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sinful-mind-joyful-thoughts · 6 months ago

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𝕿𝖜𝖎𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖉 𝕿𝖊𝖒𝖕𝖙𝖆𝖙𝖎𝖔𝖓𝖘 | 1

Read Chapter two - here [MASTERLIST]

screencaps and gifs: Pinterest

Pairing: dark!Joel Miller x Fem!reader

Warnings/tags: MDNI 18+, DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT, BLOOD, Auctioning people, talks of BDSM, talks of virginity, talks of STD and STI tests, Dom and Sub dynamics, underage drinking (20), THIS IS A WORK OF FICTION, YOU ARE RESPONSIBLE FOR THE CONTENT YOU CONSUME

Summary: 20,000 dollars in student debt can lead to irrational decisions, like engaging in a questionable discussion when a friend who is knowledgeable about BDSM mentions an auction she's attending.

WC: 3.6K

A/n: the first of the new and improved version of my mister miller fic🫶🏻

For notifications follow - @sinful-mind-joyful-fics

Cold and heartless, Dr. Richards, your financial aid advisor, was a stern woman. You had expected that, considering the difficulty of having to inform hundreds of students about whether they could afford to continue their college careers or not. Last week, you discovered an unpaid dues notice from the school when you were looking through your financial reports. You had thought that all your dues were covered by a creative writing scholarship and financial aid.

Dr. Richards set your papers down and sighed, taking off her glasses and looking at you with an unexpected hint of pity. "Would you like me to be kind or blunt?" she asked, her voice steady but softened by the weight of bad news.

Your hand slapped to your forehead instinctively as dread pooled in your stomach. "Blunt," you muttered, bracing yourself.

"You're $20,000 in debt," she continued without missing a beat. "The total cost of your first year was $40,000. $20,000 was covered through financial aid and the scholarship, but if you wish to continue, the remaining $20,000 has to be paid by the start of next semester."

Shock and anger twisted inside you, making your vision blur. "Three months?!" you exclaimed, your voice rising with panic. "How am I supposed to afford that? I can barely afford anything as it is."

Dr. Richards leaned back, her eyes holding a mixture of sympathy and resignation. "I understand this is difficult, but the reality is, you need to find a solution quickly. Perhaps a private loan, more scholarships, or even a part-time job."

The office walls seemed to close in around you, the air thick with the weight of impossible choices. You stood up, feeling the urgency of time slipping through your fingers. "I'll figure something out," you said, your voice a brittle whisper of determination.

As you stepped out into the corridor, the gravity of your situation bore down on you. The campus buzzed with the usual life of students, oblivious to your internal turmoil. Every step you took felt heavier, each echoes a reminder of the $20,000 chain now dragging you down.

Night fell as you wandered the campus, lost in thought. The familiar paths seemed alien, shadows stretching long and menacing under the flickering streetlights. Once you made it back to your cramped dorm room, you opened the door and flopped onto your bed without even glancing at your roommate, Faith.

"Whoa, are you okay?" Faith asked, concern lacing her voice.

You lifted your head from the bed just enough to reply. "Remember the financial notice I got last week? Turns out I'm $20,000 in debt, and I didn't even know. Ugh, I should have read the papers more thoroughly." You sunk your head back into the thin, scratchy comforter on your bed, feeling the weight of the world pressing down on you.

Faith sat down on the edge of her bed, her eyes wide with concern. "That's... a lot. What are you going to do?"

You sighed deeply, the sound muffled by the comforter. "I have no idea. Three months to come up with twenty grand? It feels impossible."

Faith was silent for a moment, the tension in the room thickening. Finally, she spoke, her voice a mix of determination and desperation. "We'll figure something out. There has to be a way."

You nodded weakly, and Faith gently moved your shoulders to get you to sit up. She sat next to you and nudged you playfully. "Maybe a sugar daddy? You're a hot 20-year-old with a banging body," Faith joked, her mischievous grin breaking through the tension.

You managed a small smile, though part of you wondered if she was actually being serious. Faith was always open about her sex life, unlike you. You were a virgin, but the thought of a sugar daddy did sound appealing in your desperate situation.

"Yeah, right," you replied with a chuckle, though the idea lingered in your mind longer than it should have. Faith's laughter filled the room, a momentary reprieve from the oppressive worry.

Faith stood up abruptly before walking to her laptop and bringing it over to you. "A Twilight marathon isn't going to fix this," she cut you off, her tone serious, as she settled beside you.

"I know, I know... but," she hesitated, her expression grave, "well, I might have a solution." With a look of persuasion, she showed you her laptop screen, displaying a website named 'Twisted Temptations.'

"Your BDSM club?" you blurted out, taken aback.

"Okay, okay, listen," Faith hurried to explain, sensing your shock and disapproval. "We're doing this auction... You get 10% of whatever they bid for you."

You stood there, frozen in disbelief, waiting for Faith to continue. "How do you think I paid for college and..." she paused, choosing her words carefully, "most don't even want sex. You should at least look at the application."

You shook your head, doubt clouding your thoughts. "I don't know, Faith. This is so out of my comfort zone."

Faith moved closer, her expression softening with concern and determination. "Listen, I wouldn't suggest this if I didn't think it was safe. The club is strict about boundaries. You set the limits, and they are respected. Plus, I'll be there to guide you through everything."

You glanced at the laptop screen, the application form open and waiting. The prospect seemed overwhelming, yet there was a glimmer of hope—an unconventional solution to your daunting financial problems.

Faith sensed your hesitation and continued, "I know it's a big step, but think about the benefits. You need the money, and this way, you control what happens. You set your limits and preferences, and everything is mutually agreed upon with your partner. Trust me, you'll be safe."

You took a deep breath, considering her words. "But what if something goes wrong?"

Faith smiled reassuringly. "It won't. The club has strict rules and procedures to protect everyone involved. I'll help you with everything—filling out the application, setting your boundaries, and making sure you're comfortable. You won't be alone in this."

The weight of your financial troubles pressed down on you, and Faith's unwavering support felt like a lifeline. You sighed and sank onto the bed next to her. "Alright, I'll do it, but you have to help me. I don't want something to go wrong."

Faith's eyes lit up with excitement. "It won't," she assured you confidently. "Let's get started." She quickly filled in your name, age, and other essential details, then looked at you with a reassuring smile. "Okay, now we need to talk about your preferences and limits. This is really important."

You nodded, feeling a mix of apprehension and curiosity. "What kind of preferences?"

Faith glanced at the screen, scrolling down to the next section. "Let's start with the basics. Are there any absolute no-go areas for you? Things you absolutely won't do?"

You bit your lip, feeling a flutter of nerves. "Well, I'm a virgin, but I'm ready to...you know, not be. I just don't want to do anything I'm not comfortable with."

Faith nodded, her expression serious but supportive. "That's totally okay. You can specify that you're new and what your limits are. Many people in the club respect that and will help you explore at your own pace."

She typed as she spoke, checking off boxes and filling in fields. "What about things like light bondage, sensory play, or role-playing? Have you ever thought about those?"

You blushed slightly, feeling a mix of excitement and fear. "I've never tried any of it, but I guess I could be open to light stuff. Nothing too intense to start."

Faith smiled encouragingly. "Perfect. We'll start with light bondage and sensory play. You can always update your preferences later as you get more comfortable."

She continued filling out the form, asking about your comfort levels with different activities, safe words, and any medical conditions or allergies. You answered as best as you could, relying on Faith's guidance and the snippets of information she'd shared with you over the years.

"Remember," Faith added, "most of what you like and don't like is decided mutually between the dom and sub. Communication is key. You'll discuss your limits and preferences with your partner beforehand, and you can always say no if something doesn't feel right."

Faith noted your availability and reviewed the application one last time. "Alright, I think we're all set. Ready to submit?"

You took a deep breath, nerves, and excitement swirling within you. "Ready."

Faith clicked the submit button, and the screen flashed a confirmation message. She turned to you with a grin. "Welcome to Twisted Temptations. You're going to be great."

As you sat there, a mix of relief and apprehension settling over you, Faith squeezed your hand. "Remember, you're in control. This is about exploring your boundaries and discovering what you're comfortable with. And I'll be here every step of the way."

You nodded, and Faith smiled. “The auction will be held next week. You’ll need to get an STD and STI test done, and you desperately need to get something sexy.”

You gasped at Faith. “I own sexy clothes?”

Faith giggled and walked over to the closet. "Well, maybe not yet, but that's what I'm here for."

She flung open the closet doors and began rifling through your clothes. After a moment, she pulled out a baggy hoodie and a pair of sweatpants, holding them up with a look of mock horror. “Unless you plan on seducing someone with the allure of ‘Netflix and no chill,’ we need to do some shopping.”

You couldn’t help but laugh. “Okay, okay, point taken. But where am I supposed to find something sexy?”

Faith’s eyes sparkled with mischief. “Leave that to me. We’ll hit up the mall tomorrow, and by the time we’re done, you’ll have an outfit that’ll make jaws drop.”

You felt a mixture of excitement and dread. “Fine, but no leather. And nothing with feathers. Or sequins. Or—”

“Relax,” Faith interrupted, still laughing. “I know just the thing. You’ll be sexy, not sparkly.”

As Faith closed the closet doors with a flourish, she turned back to you, her expression turning serious. “But seriously, the tests are important. We need to make sure you’re safe and everything is in order.”

You nodded, the gravity of the situation sinking in again. “I’ll make an appointment first thing tomorrow.”

Faith grinned and flopped down on the bed beside you. “Great. Now, let’s watch a terrible rom-com to celebrate your big decision. It’ll be our last bit of normalcy before you become a sex goddess.”

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help but smile.

Faith and you decided to Uber to the auction. The city lights blurred past the window as you fidgeted with the hem of your newly purchased dress. Faith noticed your nerves and squeezed your hand reassuringly.

“Alright,” she said, her tone both calming and excited, “let me walk you through what’s going to happen tonight.”

You nodded, trying to focus on her words instead of the churning anxiety in your stomach.

“When we arrive at the venue, we'll check in at the front desk. They'll hand you your papers and auction number,” Faith explained. “Then, we can mingle and meet some of the other participants. It's like a real auction party, so don't be shy about striking up conversations.”

You took a deep breath, feeling slightly reassured. “And when does the bidding start?”

Faith grinned. “Bidding starts at 10 PM sharp. That's when the real excitement begins.

As the Uber came to a stop outside the venue, I looked out the window at the unremarkable building that awaited me. Faith led the way, exuding confidence as she stepped onto the sidewalk.

Stepping into the venue, anticipation swirled around me like a gentle breeze, mingling with the soft melodies of background music. The interior whispered of understated elegance, with dim lighting casting enchanting shadows across the polished floors and plush furnishings. Faith guided you towards the check-in desk, where attendants bustled about with papers and pins. You exchanged a nervous glance, excitement bubbling beneath the surface as you approached the desk.

“Welcome,” greeted the attendant with a warm smile, “may I have your names, please?”

You and Faith exchanged introductions before the attendant handed you each a set of papers and pins to attach to your dresses. With a playful grin, Faith nudged you and held up her pin, wiggling it teasingly.

“Alright, partner in crime,” she said, her eyes twinkling with mischief, “let’s get these on and make sure we’re looking sharp for the auction.”

You chuckled, feeling a surge of affection for your friend as you both leaned in to help each other attach the pins to your dresses.

With your pins securely fastened, you and Faith made your way toward the main ballroom. The air seemed to buzz with an undercurrent of excitement and anticipation. As you approached the entrance, the grandeur of the room came into view.

The ballroom was a striking blend of opulence and decadence. Crystal chandeliers cast a warm, golden glow over the space, illuminating velvet drapes in deep, sensual hues that lined the walls. The polished marble floors reflected the ambient light, creating an almost surreal atmosphere. Guests mingled in clusters, their laughter and hushed conversations weaving a tapestry of sound that filled the room.

At one end of the ballroom stood a grand stage, draped in rich, crimson fabric and adorned with luxurious golden trim. The stage was set for the auction, with a sleek podium at the center and rows of plush chairs arranged in front, ready for the evening’s main event.

As you stepped further inside, the scene grew more intense. The guests were an eclectic mix, their attire ranging from sophisticated evening wear to daring, barely-there outfits that left little to the imagination. Leather, lace, and latex dominated the fashion choices, with some attendees adorned in intricate harnesses and collars, their outfits hinting at the BDSM theme of the event.

Faith squeezed your hand one last time before she was swept away by a familiar face, her confident stride never faltering. You stood there for a moment, feeling a sudden pang of anxiety as the crowd seemed to close in around you. The noise, the lights, the sheer number of people—it was all too much at once.

Your heart raced as you tried to navigate through the sea of faces, each one strange and intimidating. The grandeur of the ballroom that had seemed so captivating just moments ago now felt overwhelming. You took a deep breath, attempting to steady yourself, but the sensation of being out of your depth only intensified.

The guests were like nothing you had ever seen before. A man in an immaculate tuxedo strolled by, a jeweled mask obscuring his eyes, while a woman in a full-body latex suit and stiletto heels sauntered past, her movements deliberate and commanding. A couple nearby caught your eye: the woman wore a sheer, flowing gown, her partner trailing behind her on a leash, wearing nothing but leather shorts and a collar.

In one corner, a group of people had gathered around a figure suspended in a rope harness, their intricate knots both artistic and functional. Soft moans and murmurs of appreciation floated through the air as the person twisted slowly, lost in the sensations the ropes provided. Another attendee, dressed in a sharp, tailored suit, held a riding crop, playfully tapping it against their thigh as they chatted with a scantily clad submissive whose eyes never left the ground.

Guests lounged on plush sofas, some openly engaging in power play dynamics. A woman in a sleek corset held a leash attached to a submissive kneeling beside her, while another couple whispered intimately, their hands exploring each other's bodies with practiced ease. The atmosphere was charged with an erotic energy, a palpable sense of anticipation for what the night would bring.

As you continued to weave through the crowd, searching for a familiar face or a quiet corner, the overwhelming nature of the evening began to settle heavily on your shoulders. The mix of luxury and raw sexuality, the boldness of the guests, and the anticipation of what was to come all blended into a dizzying mix that left you feeling adrift.

In that moment, you longed for Faith's reassuring presence, her confident guidance. But she was somewhere amidst the throng, leaving you to navigate this new and intimidating world on your own. You felt a prickling sense of vulnerability, the realization that you were truly stepping into uncharted territory sinking in as you tried to steady your breath and find your footing in the extravagant chaos surrounding you.

So, like every college student in a social bind, you made a beeline for the bar. "Shit," you muttered, realizing you had left both your fake and real ID back in the dorm. Trying to muster some confidence, you approached the bar, hoping your outfit might be convincing enough. You sidled up next to a tall man with salt-and-pepper hair, dressed impeccably in a well-tailored suit. You could catch the faint scent of pine and campfire from his cologne.

Putting on your best flirty face, you addressed the bartender. He was the complete opposite of the man beside you—average height, slightly taller than you, skinny, tattooed, and wearing an ill-fitting button-up uniform top. His head was shaved clean. "One shot of Tito's, please," you said, playing with your hair in an attempt to seem older and more sophisticated.

The bartender chuckled. "ID, please?"

You leaned forward, arms together to emphasize your cleavage. "ID, really?" you said, trying to be as seductive as possible.

The bartender looked tempted but quickly shook his head. "No ID, no alcohol," he said firmly, turning away.

You groaned in frustration, which caught the attention of the man next to you. He smiled, his eyes crinkling at the corners. He was older, that was clear, but he looked good. His stubble was neatly trimmed, his curly hair slicked back in a way that seemed both effortless and intentional, and his eyes were large and expressive.

"So, no ID?" he asked, his voice warm and slightly amused.

You smiled back. "No, but a girl can try."

He set down his glass of whiskey, the amber liquid catching the light. "Well, how old are you then?"

"Twenty," you admitted, locking eyes with him.

Before you could continue the conversation, Faith appeared, grabbing your arm and pulling you away from the bar. "What were you doing talking to Joel Miller?" she asked, her voice a mix of shock and concern.

You glanced back, watching Joel as he turned back to his drink. "Just chatting. Why?"

Faith handed you a pamphlet and opened it to a specific page. "Page four," she instructed.

As you skimmed the page, she continued, "Joel is... intense. He's someone to shy away from until you're more experienced. Trust me on this."

Your eyes widened as you read the details. "Intense" was an understatement. "So, who's the safe bet?" you asked, feeling a bit overwhelmed.

Faith's face softened. "His brother, Tommy. He's more laid-back and a better choice for someone starting. You'll find him much easier to talk to."

You sighed, glancing back toward the bar. "Guess I dodged a bullet, huh?"

Faith smiled. "Yeah, you did. Now, let's find Tommy and get you introduced. He's around here somewhere."

Joel suddenly appeared as you and Faith navigated through the crowd, stopping you both dead in your tracks. "Tito's," he said, handing you a glass with a wry smile. He glanced at the number pinned to your dress before walking away, leaving you stunned.

"What was that about?" Faith immediately questioned, her eyes wide with surprise.

Before you could respond, a voice boomed from the auction podium. "May all the products please make their way backstage."

Faith turned to you, her expression shifting from curiosity to urgency. "We'll talk about this later. Right now, we need to get backstage."

Your heart pounded as you nodded, clutching the glass of Tito's Joel had given you. You downed it in one gulp, hoping it would calm your nerves, then handed the empty glass back to Faith. She gave your hand a reassuring squeeze. "You'll be fine. Just remember what we talked about. You're in control."

With a deep breath, you joined the other "products" making their way to the designated area. The backstage was a flurry of activity, with organizers checking names and numbers, and participants adjusting their outfits one last time. The air was thick with anticipation and a hint of perfume mingled with the scent of leather.

An organizer approached you, checking your number against his list. "You're number 3, correct?" he asked.

"Yes," you replied, your voice barely audible over the din of conversation and last-minute preparations.

"Great. Just wait here until you're called," he instructed, pointing to a row of chairs along the wall.

You sat down, your mind racing. Faith's words echoed in your head: "You're in control. You decide your limits." The reality of what you were about to do began to sink in, but you steeled yourself, determined to see it through.

As you waited, you couldn't help but think about Joel. His unexpected gesture with the Tito's, the way he had looked at you—something about him intrigued and unnerved you. But Faith's warning was clear: he was intense, someone to be cautious around. Your thoughts were interrupted by a tap on your shoulder.

"Number 3, you're up next," the organizer said.

You stood up, smoothed out your dress, and took a deep breath. As you stepped towards the stage, the curtain drew back slightly, giving you a tantalizing glimpse of the auction room. The ambient lighting cast a soft glow, illuminating the expectant faces of the bidders, their anticipation palpable in the air.

Stepping into the spotlight, you felt a surge of adrenaline coursing through your veins. The auctioneer's voice echoed in the room, commanding attention as he announced, "And now, presenting number 3, starting bid at $500."

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space-cowgirllll · 2 months ago

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Wildflower

a/n- I'm super sick and might have written this in a NyQuil induced haze lol but I've been obsessed with this song lately and I just couldn't help myself and then these pictures pop up on my Pinterest??? I had to.

Reader is not a girls girl in this I'm sorryyyy.

You're already awake when she starts to stir, laying on your side staring out the small window across from the bed. The pretty blue and pink pastels of the sky are in the early stages of transitioning into a vibrant orange as the sun starts to rise.

This used to be your favorite time of the day. Listening to her breathing mixed with the birds chirping through the small crack in the window. Happy to wake up to her legs intertwined with yours, the warmth radiating from her body against your back. Now? The once comforting feeling of her breath at the nape of your neck sent chills down your spine, her tattooed arm felt like a hundred pound weight around your waist.

A gentle kiss is placed on the back of your head, followed by a mumbled good morning. The old bed creaks as she shuffles to the edge. Your body follows her movements, rolling over to face her. Her short hair is sticking straight up in certain spots from how much she'd tossed and turned all night. She was overdue for a haircut. You watch as she sits there, shoulders slumped and staring at the wall lost in thought. There are dark circles underneath her eyes. It was getting harder to pretend you didn't notice.

"Are you hungry?" You whisper.

She shakes her head as if she just remembered you were still there and you frown. She hadn't had dinner last night either. "We have to go see Tommy today."

Ellie gives you a small smile, her fingers run down the bare skin of your arm. You tense when she leans down. Lips just a hair's breadth away from yours when you turn your head to the side, hands pushing against her chest. She huffs when she's met the skin of your cheek instead.

"At least let me brush my teeth first Els." you giggle halfheartedly when she rolls her eyes. Her lips curve up in a grin.

"Okay, weirdo." she moves to press a quick kiss to your hairline instead, giving your hip a small squeeze.

"I'm going to go get Shimmer ready." She speaks into your hair. "I'll meet you at the gate?"

You nod silently, watching her slip out of the room and into the bathroom down the hall. The smile slips off your face the second you hear the sound of water running.

You shift uncomfortably in your seat, eyes focused on the table in front of you. Your hands fidget with the frayed edges of the napkin. To your left, Maira chatters with a couple of the older women in Jackson. You'd been laughing as they shared stories about their lives before when you hear it. A knot in your stomach forms at the sound of her voice, tightening as she gets closer. Your hands clench into fists on your lap. A hand on your arm makes you jump, your knee bumping against the edge of the table. Maria watches you with a knowing look on her face.

You give her what you think is reassuring smile, but judging by the frown on her face, she's not convinced. You chew on the inside of your cheek wishing you'd been able to stay back at the farm. In your peripheral you check on Ellie. She's hunched over what seems to be a map, while Tommy points to different areas on it. He talking excitedly about something, the determination on his face scares you.

The last time you were all in the same room together you'd been standing in the sidelines having a drink with Jesse. You happily watching your best friend dance with Ellie, while he avoided looking Dina's way.

Today, the seat next to hers is empty and the three of you avoid each other as best as you can in a town with a population of three hundred people.

The ten month old in Dina's arms wiggles around as his chubby hands bang on the table. Little babbles reach your ears over the hum of conversations around you. You chance a quick look at him. It's bittersweet to see so much of your friend in JJ's sweet face. There's a dull pang in your chest, knowing Jesse deserved to be here, watching his son grow. God, you could use a stupid joke or two of his right about now. He'd never let you and Ellie live this down.

Your eyes involuntarily move to Dina. She's deep in conversation with Jesse's mother. It had been months since you've seen her, and even longer since you'd spoken. You were too ashamed to ask anyone how she was doing knowing it would immediately get back to her. Your closest friend had become a stranger and it was all your fault. But what could you say? Sorry I got involved with your ex girlfriend five months after you broke up, let's still be friends? She'd probably punch you in the face. She had done it for less.

You press your lips together, fighting the bout of nausea that crawls up your throat. Your chair scrapes loudly across the floor, but you don't even care at the looks it earns you. With a rushed goodbye to the women, you book it outside. The humid air does little to help your already clammy skin, your tank top sticking to your back in the most uncomfortable way.

The doors of the dining hall burst open just a moment later, startling you. Ellie storms out followed by an equally angry Tommy. His lips pulled down in a scowl. She doesn't even seem to notice you're there, striding right past you.

"What the fuck, Tommy?" You whisper shout at the older man, making no move to stop in fear of Ellie getting too far ahead. He just grumbles an apology, a fleeting look of regret on his face as he heads back inside.

Your feet slip slightly as you pick up the pace, the ground still muddy from an unexpected storm the day before. Ellie doesn't even seem fazed by it as she powers through to the stables. She has the decency to look embarrassed when she sees you following, and you try to ignore how much it hurts to know she'd completely forgotten you were there.

The silence leaves you alone with your thoughts longer than should be allowed. You spend the whole time thinking so hard it feels like your head is going to pop. Remembering how upset Dina had been after the breakup, unable to deal with all the stress of dealing with a grieving partner while navigating the loss of her child's father shortly after finding out she was pregnant. The late nights where you held her as she cried. When no one had heard from Ellie for weeks, you made the trip up to the small farm she and Dina shared for those first short weeks of their return from Seattle. You found her sitting on the porch looking worse for wear. Her attempts to kick you out were futile. It started off innocently at first, you heading over to help her clean or look after the couple of sheep she kept around. Making sure she at least tried some of the food you'd bring over. Ellie was happy to let you do most of the talking, giving her the rundown on whatever the rumor mill was churning that week.

It had taken months before the Ellie you knew slowly started making an appearance. Her art slowly appearing around the house, the strumming of her guitar becoming background noise while you prepared dinner. The first time she cracked one of her lame jokes you'd stared at her like she'd grown another head.

Before you knew it you were practically living at the farm and one day when Ellie asked you to just stay, you listened. The look of betrayal on Dina's face as you moved what little you owned out of your house haunted you some nights.

It had been easy to ignore it in the beginning, the guilt overshadowed by the attention Ellie gave you. These days you can't shake the thought that maybe she'd kept you around because she was scared of being alone.

You reluctantly tighten your grip on Ellie, watching the profile of her face as she leads the horse onto the trail that goes back to the farm. She looks back at you, lowering one of her hands to squeeze yours resting on her waist. Try as you might, you had never been the best at consoling the girl in front of you.

As you look back over your shoulder, you contemplate how stupid you'd look if you came back to Jackson alone with your tail tucked between your legs.

"Ellie! Sit still."

"I am!"

The two of you are crammed into the tiny downstairs bathroom of your home. Her in a chair, you behind her with your hands in her hair. The room is silent, safe for the occasional snipping of the scissors.

"I told you to just wait for me." You mumble as you try to fix the messy uneven strands at the back of her head.

"You were taking too long."

"Well you can kiss that little half up bun of yours goodbye." The small pout on her face makes you laugh.

She'd gone a little wild with the scissors this time. Her once shoulder length hair now a shaggy cut that kept the hair off her neck. You huff as she moves her head from side to side, making it harder to keep cutting. She hums in approval.

"Not bad."

"I'm not done yet." You whine, letting her pull you to sit on her lap.

Her chin props on your shoulder, smiling at you in the mirror. "It looks fine. Thanks babe."

You rest your head against hers, admiring the way the morning sun coming through the window brings out the red in her hair.

The sweet moment is ruined by your treacherous thoughts. Remembering that night a little over a year ago. You'd showed up to Dina's one night after patrol to find the two girls in the bathroom as she trimmed Ellie's hair. It had been just before the two left for Seattle to chase after Tommy. Ellie had been a mess, staring off into nothing as your friend combed through her hair.

And amidst all the chaos in her life you saw the way her eyes lit up when Dina looked at her. The flush of her cheeks whenever they locked eyes. Watching them interact had always felt like you were intruding on something.

"Oh I love this song!" Ellie cranes her neck, listening to the soft music coming from the record player in the living room.

Your chest tightens, the burning sensation from earlier returning. As she hums quietly, you think back to the day Dina had found the record in an old music store while on patrol. She'd probably left it behind. It was one of her favorites too, and if Ellie knows it, she doesn't show it.

There was so much of Dina intertwined with Ellie. The two had been friends for years before they dated. They made far more sense than you and Ellie did. Some days you wondered if she ever even truly saw you.

Would there ever be a moment that was just your own?

You lay there in the middle of your shared bed, knees tucked into your chest with the covers up to your chin. Ellie's side of the bed cold and empty when you woke. Just as it had been every night since her argument with Tommy. The one you still knew nothing about, being brushed off every time you asked about it. You'd gotten used to her reserved nature over the past months, but this was different. There were still smiles and kisses thrown your way, but those no longer felt genuine.

The house is unusually quiet for Ellie not being in bed. No guitar being played or the quiet hum of the tv downstairs. Quickly slipping into one of her old hoodies, you notice that her jacket and backpack are gone from their usual spot. In a panic, you rush down the stairs. The ratty sneakers you constantly begged her to get rid of are missing from where she threw them every night after kicking them off.

Without even thinking you run towards the barn barefoot. The animals startle at the loud groan from the old door being opened but you pay them no mind as you move towards the small stable near the back. When only one horse pokes its head out to greet you, your blood runs cold. It wasn't Shimmer.

She left.

You don't even have to energy to cry, too in shock to truly process that Ellie's gone. Muddy footprints track inside the house, ruining the floors you had just cleaned before bed. You don't even realize you're in the kitchen until you collapse in one of the dining chairs.

It isn't until hours later, when the sun finally starts to rise that you see it. The singular scrap stuck to the fridge underneath an old magnet she'd stolen from Joel. You recognize her the swirls of her messy handwriting as she apologizes for leaving. She'd gone after Abby. Her words start to blur as tears spill over, smudging the ink as they land on the paper. You angrily swipe at your face as you reach the end, staring at the three words she'd underlined twice before promising she'd see you soon.

I love you.

No she didn't.

#ellie williams x reader #ellie x fem reader #ellie x reader #ellie tlou #ellie the last of us #Ellie William angst #ellie x you

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roronoa-roro · 2 years ago

Text

ᴘʀᴀɴᴋ #3 "ꜱᴇɴᴅɪɴɢ ᴛʜᴇᴍ ɴᴜᴅᴇꜱ" !!!

CW: nudes¡ suggestive language¡ mentions of sex¡

Pairing: (all post timeskip) suna, atsumu, osamu, ginjima x gn!reader

Network: @tokyometronetwork

ꜱᴜɴᴀ ʀɪɴᴛᴀʀᴏ

Guaranteed returns. All favors are returned x1000.

Send him a partial nude and you will get a dick pic within 3 milliseconds. Send him a thirst trap and an audio capture of him moaning your name is sent back.

Suna prides himself on his ability to collect quality material, so it's no surprise he's so very enthusiastic about this nudes exchange business.

Has pretty lights set up around his room just for the sake of clicking aesthetic dick pics.

There's even a special folder on his desktop dedicated to you. All these frisky pics and videos are stored there. He even names it his 'personal pornhub'

Comes home with hundreds of nasty fantasies filled in his head. Trust me he's created a very nice simulation of all the things he'd love to do to you.

ᴍɪʏᴀ ᴀᴛꜱᴜᴍᴜ

You just know this motherfucker is choking on his spit every time you send a pic that's even closely revealing.

This one time you send him a suggestive (only to dirty minded people) picture of your newly done nails holding your glass just for fun and next day videos of Miya Atsumu, star athlete clumsily fumbling with his phone are trending on the internet.

I'm really really sorry for this one but he totally responds in Adam Levine style😭😭😭 he's embarrassing you know it but you love him and that shitty replying style is something you and him have to work on.

He comes home all needy and whiny after that. Needs all the love and affection— much much more than usual.

He might not admit it but every time his phone pings and it's a message from you he pulls in a deep breath to stabilize his heart and be ready.

Atsumu is too much of an innocent boy for that cocky front he puts up.

ᴍɪʏᴀ ᴏꜱᴀᴍᴜ

Now this guy is a totally different story. Unlike his brother, although equally cocky, he has the guts to back it up.

You once sent him a nude while on a double dinner date just to see his reaction and this mf looked at the picture and smirked, licking his lip. Never tell him how flustering you found it you'd just be digging your own grave.

He's an observant guy, he knows all your preferences– from the food to the positions, so it's not a huge surprise to you when he sends you detailed, nasty, toe-curling replies.

Lowkey think he could run his own pornblog and we would still follow him like dick hungry bitches.

Sometimes, he would send you unprompted random messages while you are at work. Like sirrrr, you get it. He knows you very well but it's none of his business to ensure you're melting in your chair at work thinking about him.

But that's not all. The real nastiness starts when you return home, or his hotel. This man is filthy. And he's gonna pull you down with him whether you like it or not.

ʜɪᴛᴏꜱʜɪ ɢɪɴᴊɪᴍᴀ

You were sorely mistaken if you thought he was an innocent baby boy who had to be introduced to the art of sending nudes gently💀💀💀

He is the devil. This man laughs at you and calls you weak when you send him a partial nude.

The insult digs deeper when he sends you a beautiful, Pinterest worthy image of his pants pulled down just enough to show his perfect v-line. The sunlight kissing his pretty skin doesn't help either.

This ensues a nudes war. Who can click the better nude.

You both give each other occasional runs for your money. But it's usually him powning you most of the time. This guy has some serious aesthetics.

But the funny thing is, although you both forget the original intention of sending nudes, you both develop a cute and adorable sort of bonding activity out of it.

Lost the taglist so i won't tag anybody and this isn't gonna be a regular writing phase anyways so🙏🙏🙏 also drop some holy water in the comments and reblogs plej i need it I've been thinking very nasty thoughts abt a certain white haired sensei from naruto

#miya atsumu x gn!reader #miya osamu x gn!reader #suna rintaro x gn!reader #hitoshi ginjima x gn!reader #atsumu x reader #atsumu x gn!reader #osamu x reader #osamu x gn!reader #suna x reader #suna x gn!reader #ginjima x reader #ginjima x gn!reader #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu smut #haikyuu suggestive scenarios #haikyuu x gn!reader #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu scenarios #haikyuu fluff

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bad268 · 6 months ago

Note

hiiii i love your writing 🩷🩷

i was wondering if you could do a kimi antonelli x reader? i really liked the clingy antonelli one, so something like that would be amazing !!

maybe the reader is latina and her brother it’s also a f2 driver? and kimi’s meeting their family?

i would really appreciate you doing something like that, have a good day!❤️

Some Kind of Reaction (Andrea Kimi Antonelli X Marti! Reader)

Fandom: RPF/F2/F3

Requested: Clearly (I may have made it more Pepe/fam-centered than I wanted, but I like how it turned out)

Warnings: Aged up Kimi (I imagined him in second year of F2)

POV: Second person (You/your/They/them)

W.C. 1157

Summary: The walls are a bit thin in your house, and your 'meet the family' was spoiled.

As always, my requests are OPEN

MASTERLIST // HITLIST

~~(^Pinterest)

To say you were nervous to introduce your boyfriend to your older brother would be a lie. For once, you were not nervous at all! It’s not like Pepe did not know about your boyfriend. He just did not know who it was.

Little did he know, it was his competition.

Pepe was shockingly supportive when you first told him you had a boyfriend, and he took little convincing for you to get his approval. That was at the beginning of your relationship. Now, you were going on six months, and it was time to introduce them officially.

You decided the weekend of the Spanish Grand Prix would be the best, and your brother would not ask any questions about why you were in the paddock. Plus, you could cheer for both of your favorite boys!

Qualifying had just finished up, and you were ecstatic! Not only was Kimi on pole, but Pepe was on reverse grid pole for the sprint. That was the best-case scenario for you. Now, you just had to hope that they would be able to convert those positions into wins later this weekend.

You were standing outside of the Campos garage, waiting for your brother to pull into his spot. You were minding your own business when someone decided to run up behind you and jump onto your back. Thankfully, you were used to Kimi running up behind you, so when he jumped up, you immediately caught him.

“I’m so proud of you, Kimi!” You cheered as you spun around with him, laughing as he wrapped his arms tighter around your shoulders and littered your shoulder and neck with kisses. As you stopped spinning, you released his legs and allowed him to stand on his own. Immediately, you turned around while Kimi grabbed your face and planted a kiss on your lips as you wrapped your hands around his wrists, holding him against you.

You moved in sync with each other like you were made for each other. It was like the other hundreds of times you had kissed before. Maybe this one was more passionate, but to you, it was just like the first time you kissed him. The same fireworks and butterflies exploded in your stomach, and you never wanted to stop kissing him.

But when someone cleared their throat behind you. You knew who it was, there was no question about it. The only person that would not immediately jump at your throat: Pepe.

You slowly pulled away from Kimi, not really wanting to but also knowing you needed to face your brother eventually. You did not know if he was alone or if your parents had followed him back to the garage (you hoped they didn’t). Then, you took a deep breath, moved your hands to grab one of Kimi’s, and turned to see who interrupted you.

“Did you have fun there?” Pepe joked with an uncomfortable laugh and a grimace.

“As a matter of fact, yeah!” You replied with a light chuckle at his expression. “I always have fun kissing him!”

“Can you not do it in front of me? Like ever again?” Pepe cringed as he walked past you two, heading straight for his driver’s room.

“That’s it?” You questioned as you followed him. Kimi would have followed as well, but he was stopped by the Campos crew. Drivers of different teams were not allowed in different garages unless they were empty. You pushed through the door after Pepe. “No “That’s my sibling!’, no ‘You better treat ‘em right’, no ‘If you hurt ‘em, I’ll kill you’? Where’s the passion? Where’s the overprotective brother I know and what have you done with him?”

“Do you want me to freak out?” Pepe said, disinterested in the whole conversation as he set his helmet and balaclava to the side. He took a seat on the couch, throwing his legs onto the table. He had already changed to the Campos kit, but the team needed to check his helmet for something. You stood there dumbfounded at his laidback attitude.

“I want some kind of reaction here!” You exasperated. He was usually so expressive, especially regarding his friends and family. You had never seen him act like this, and it scared you. “Scream at me, scream at him, tell me off for dating another driver, tell me I don’t know what I’m getting myself into, give me something, Pepe! You’re my brother, and your opinion means a lot to me. The fact that you’re not reacting at all is scaring me.”

You were tearing up, eating yourself up at the thought of Pepe not approving of your relationship. Pepe was your older brother, and you looked up to him for everything from advice to a genuine friend. His opinion meant a lot to you, and truly, if he did not want you dating Kimi, you would break it off. You would be heartbroken, but your family’s opinion has always been your priority. Seeing the tears in your eyes, Pepe immediately stood up and pulled you into a hug.

“Aye, hermano/a (brother/sibling//sister),” He whispered as you hid your face on his shoulder as some of the tears fell. “Hey, I’m not shocked, and I’m not upset with you being with Kimi.” You pulled back a little to look up at him. He wiped the stray tears as he whispered, “At first, I was mad, but I’ve come to terms with it.”

“What do you mean ‘at first’?” You asked skeptically as you pulled back even more, almost putting him at an arm's distance.

“I may or may not have heard you on the phone a few weeks ago, and I may or may not know a few people who speak Italian, and I may or may not have asked them to translate what you said,” Pepe rambled with a sheepish smile when he finished. “And if it were, hypothetically, true, would you be mad?”

You stood frozen for a second with your jaw dropped before breaking out in laughter. Pepe might have gotten nervous then, but he started laughing nervously with you.

“I should have expected that,” You finally said, “Ain’t no way I get any privacy in that house.”

“My bad, the walls are thin,” Pepe shrugged before switching topics, “If it makes you feel better, I can go give Kimi a heart attack. I can go get Mamá and Papá.”

“Am I ready for that? Probably not, but thanks for offering,” You joked as you moved to leave the garage, but Pepe did not follow you. “Let me rephrase, I want you to give him a heart attack, not Mamá and Papá. I’m not trying to kill him before the race tomorrow.”

“Why not? That would be good for my campaign,” Pepe teased as he followed you out. “Then you would be on the front row for the sprint and ninth for the feature, pendejo (stupid).”

~~~~~

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marleyybluu · 1 year ago

Text

Differences

husband!Rio x f!black!OC ( Toni - no relation to Miss Braxton.)

Word count: 3.2k

Content warning: 18+, smut out the ass, riding, fingering, p in v, creampie, use of the word cock sorry oops, baby-making boogie, doubts about marriage, doubts about kids, fluff, Rio being in love, lot of switching between his names, allusion to food play if you squint hard enough (?). lmk if I missed any.

A/N: this was orginally for... someone else iykyk mind your business, but I switched last minute. Also I gave Rio a middle name lol

(Not my gif, found off Pinterest. but FUCK ME he looks good)

They'd been married for four years. They enjoyed their marital life, going on various trips, spending their money all willy-nilly since it was just the two of them, having parties at their house every holiday but something was missing. At least for Toni. She always wanted to be a mother, children invaded her heart and soul her whole life. Her sisters had children that she loved to babysit, she was even in the delivery room a few times. She'd become a teacher for the sole purpose of spending her days with young ones, making a difference in their lives and loving them wholeheartedly as much as she could.

But it seemed like Rio wasn't in the same boat. Which was stupid because they made sure to have this discussion before they got married and he was on board one hundred percent, Toni wanted to make her husband a father, she wanted to see him cradle a little blanket in his arms, she wanted to see him snuggling next to the chubbiest cheeks and she wanted to see his face light up at their first word but, again, he seemed to not want it for himself.

It was frustrating.

She'd let the four years pass, it was a good time window, they had time to get their lives together and buy a house, fully furnish it, settle into a decent neighbourhood and buy an SUV to fit the little family they dreamed of.

Toni even made sure to let him know when she was ovulating, the perfect opportunity to try and make a child, but he'd shrivel up and disappear when she brought it up. Then she'd spend her nights quietly doubting his interest in kids, his interest in her.

They hadn't spoken in four days, the aftermath of their first real argument, the vibes in the house were heavy and sometimes a bit awkward. She even started staying late at work to avoid him even longer.

They weren't all that selfish, they still said good morning and good night but that was about it. Little to her knowledge it was killing Rio. He hated the silent treatment from her, she was his girl they talked all the time, this had been the best relationship he'd ever been in, he didn't want to fuck it up but it felt like he already did.

He tried sneaking his way back into her heart by leaving little love notes, cooking her favourite meals and turning on her favourite shows in hopes she'd join him on the couch but all he got was the cold shoulder and he understood. He fucked up big time.

"I'm ovulating." She stated plainly. Rio just blinked and shrugged. She groaned. "Christopher, I can't do this anymore, I'm dropping hints that I want to start trying and you... you ignore me."

"I'm not ready."

"When will you be? Because I am."

He chuckled nervously. "Come on, Toni, we cannot be parents. We'll fuck it up."

The look on her face sent his heart into the pit of his stomach, her eyes glossy with tears coming in, and a harsh; "Fuck you, Christopher!" To follow suit. It stung hearing those words, if she ever said them it was more so in a playful manner but this time she had rage, anger behind her words and rightfully so. But tonight he was determined to make amends, he could not keep living like this.

It was Friday, and Toni decided she'd come home a little earlier. Rio sat up quickly at the sound of her car door slamming and the keys on her keychain jingling as she sifted for the house key. The door opened and he tried his best to keep his cool. "Hi, darlin." He greeted.

"Hey." She said in the most monotone voice he'd ever heard. "Hungry?" He asked. "Nah, I'm cool."

Toni slipped off her shoes and crept up the stairs to their room, she placed her purse on a chair nearby and sighed, just ready to shower and lay down for the rest of the weekend. She walked past their bathroom intending to head to her Vanity but a red spot on the floor caught her eye, and then another... and another. But they weren't spots, they were rose petals, a trail of them leading up to the tub that was already filled with water, the smell of her lavender bath bomb invading her senses. On the counter were a few lit candles and her little speaker so she could play music.

She swallowed her smile and headed back to the room to collect her clothes for the night. Meanwhile, Rio was finishing the final touches on his persuasive dinner downstairs. He made Macaroni just the way she taught him, some rice and chicken, even topped it off with a red velvet cake... okay so he bought the cake but it was the thought that counted right?

He set up the table for both of them to eat together, he set up the forks and knives on the table with a small vase of her favourite flower, pink Dahlia's. His palms were suddenly sweaty, tonight was make or break. If he didn't fix things tonight he had no idea where they would stand after.

Almost an hour later, Toni decided she'd close the distance between them only because she was hungry. Her feet pressed against the carpeted stairs as she descended onto the main floor, the living room was empty, Rio left whatever he was watching on pause. Her head whipped over to the kitchen smelling a lovely fragrance, she followed the trail and stopped in her tracks at the opening to the kitchen. She watched as Rio scrambled to plate their food, she tilted her head and smiled lightly, her eyes slowly forming into hearts. Oh, how she loved him.

"Do you want help?" She asked making her presence known, Rio shook his head. "Just sit and be pretty." She giggled. "I have no problem doing that."

She sat around the table, her eyes landing on the Dahlia's, her smile widened. "You got these for me?"

"Of course," He replied walking with two plates in his hand like a waiter, he put hers down first and then his. "Any drink requests?" He asked. She motioned her finger in a 'come here' motion, his eyebrows knitting with confusion but following her non-verbal instruction, she cupped his face pulling him even closer until their lips, moulding into one. She'd been wanting to kiss him for days, she didn't know if she could ever hold a grudge this long again.

The kiss was quick, just a little show of appreciation. She could see a light shade of pink take over his cheekbones. "Do we have any wine?"

"Went and got two new bottles." He says matter of factly. Toni pecked his lips again before sending him off for her drink. He grabbed two wine glasses and the bottle. "You're going to drink wine?" She asked in utter confusion. He couldn't stand wine, his famous line was 'I don't know how you drink this shit.'

He shrugged sitting down. "I can drink wine."

"Christopher... baby you hate wine."

"I can learn to like it."

She knew he was doing everything to soften her up, but the look on his face when he took a first sip was priceless. "Go and get a beer, leave me and my wine alone." He chuckled and quickly grabbed a bottle from the fridge.

The two sat and actually conversed for the first time in four days. It was nice. They talked without missing a beat, he was making her smile and laugh, she told him about the kids at work and the twinkle in her eye at the smallest mention of them was beautiful. She truly loved her students, they made her day every day with the silly stuff they'd say to her. He was in love with how motherly she could be toward everyone, how forgiving she was of anyone and especially of him. He didn't deserve her and he'd made it known numerous times and in the same amount she'd reassured him that he was just for her.

In the middle of her ramble, she noticed the way he was staring at her and suddenly she became shy. "What?" She asked. "I love you, mama."

"I love you too, Christopher."

He shook his head vigorously. "No, I love you more than you could ever imagine, Toni. And I am so so sorry for what I said."

She sighed. "It's okay."

"No, it's not okay. You will be an amazing mom to our kids and I couldn't picture anyone else having them, shit I couldn't even picture having a family until you came, it wasn't in the cards for me." He confessed. "My whole life has changed and I'm forever grateful for it. I want it to keep changing."

She tugged on her bottom lip, trying her best to swallow her tears. "When I saw how my words affected you, baby, my heart broke. I never want to be the reason you're sad. Never. I've missed you these few days. I need you back. I'm sorry."

Toni was speechless, her lips parted to say something but how do you respond to the sweetest apology ever?

Her eyes darted between his pretty brown ones, she stood up and walked over to him, swinging her leg over his she planted herself comfortably on his lap. His hands instantly rested on her hips. She didn't say anything, just leaned down and kissed him and he could swear that on her lips he could taste his past, his present and his future and she was there for every step, for every second. He wouldn't dare say such foolishness to her again.

Toni could feel a little poke through his sweats, she quietly moaned into his mouth, his hands exploring her warm chestnut skin under her shirt, his fingers trickling down her back. His lips moved to her chin and down to her neck to the spot he knew oh so well, his facial hair tickling her skin only adding to the sensation and a ray of goosebumps formed on her skin. "Christopher...mmm." Was all she could mutter, her hips involuntarily moving back and forth desperately searching for friction to soothe the aching of her clit. He got the message though, firmly splaying his hands under her ample ass, he stood up and she wrapped her legs around him.

He was halfway out of the kitchen when he realized; "Wait, I got you a red velvet cake."

Toni laughed, and she kissed his forehead, god he was so cute. "Boy, forget the cake. Take me upstairs and you can eat a different cake."

Rio raised his eyebrows, didn't have to tell him twice. "That's why I married yo ass girl."

She gladly hung off of him while he carried her up the stairs and once they made it to the room he dropped her on the bed, her sweet laughter filled the room. He settled between her legs, peppering her with kisses and affection. "I can't wait to see you, walking around here with a little belly, carrying around our love." He twitched at the thought and she noticed. A small surprised look on her face. "Is the thought of me pregnant... turning you on?"

"No." He quickly denied it. "Christopher Javier Martínez, yes it does." She teased reaching in between them to cup his hardening erection. "Mm, so you want to fill me up? Hm?" Her voice was so smooth and silky yet seductive, her lips pressing against his only for a moment. "You want to see me carrying your baby around? How swollen and plump my breasts are gonna get? Practically spilling over my tops."

"Toni." He groaned. She giggled but her taunting was cut short when he reached into her (well, his) boxers, his fingers teasing her slit, her wetness coating him. Her back arched as he quickly dipped his fingers inside her heat and back out. "Stop playin' with me." She moaned. "Why?"

Her shirt slid up her torso and past her breasts exposing her erect nipples, his mouth quickly latching onto one, his tongue swirling around her pretty brown areolas, so delicious. His free hand massaged her other one, his thumb and index fingers playing with her nipple. Her back arched and her legs squirm under him.

"Christopher, baby, please." She whined. He chuckled and something about was kind of sinister like his intent was to tease her all night until she begged for what she wanted. He popped her nipple out of his mouth, planting a kiss on it before moving on to the next, his hips grinding into hers pressing his clothed cock on her needy clit. "Yes... oh, I need more, please." She gasped.

He kissed between the valley of her breasts, down her torso and finally reaching his destination above the band of her underwear, he tugs them off in almost a hungry manner, his mouth attaching to her pussy like a magnet. His tongue going to work on her clit, his thumb caressing the rest of her slit. Toni's entire body shivered, her legs slowly closing around his head, he used his free hand to smack her inner thigh, she squealed and spread them out, holding the under of her thighs for support.

Her eyes glided to the back of her head, she squirmed, her back arching just a little bit. "Oh... y-yeah." Her toes cracked while pleasure coursed through her veins. Rio hummed against her sensitive nub, his own hips losing themselves as he hunched against the mattress with neediness. Her thighs trembled as they partially rested on his shoulders. She moaned and whined, whimpered and croaked as he devoured her existence.

"fuck, baby, I'm so close." She warned with her jaw slacked as the hairs on her arm stood, her body stiffened, her nails scratched at his scalp with appreciation and love as he carried her through the tantalizing loops of her orgasm.

She was dripping down his beard and he smiled against her thigh, his teeth gently biting on the flesh. "Oh!... Mr. Martinez." She giggled. He kissed his way back up her body, his lips landing on her chin. "I'm so glad I married you." She hummed running her nails over his skin. "Hm, I love you, ma." He cooed pressing a kiss to her nose. Rio slid off his sweats and boxers, dick sliding between her soaking folds. Her hand reached between them wrapping her fingers around his well-sized shaft.

Their lips connect as she guides him inside her soft walls. She gasped and softly moaned as he eased his way in until she was stuffed. Toni wrapped her legs around his waist. "You good?" Just checking. She nodded, too full to speak. His lips occupied her neck, her mind in the clouds as he fucked her stupid. Mutters and mumbles of "fuck me! Yes!" Or "right there!" As he skillfully worked his hips. He held her close, his face buried in the curve of her neck. His thrusts were hard and slow, he was making her feel every inch, every bit of stretch he provided.

Her high creeping its way into her bones, her moans became louder as he consistently tapped against her g-spot. There was no way he was about to make her nut again in such a short amount of time. He could feel her juicy walls contracting around him, hugging him so tight. "You're so wet for me, huh, my pretty baby?"

Toni's jaw slacked while he talked to her, nibbling on her ear. "So fucking wet, can feel it dripping down my balls, fuck."

She whined. "I can't- shit! shit! ooooh!"

He chuckles as he pulls out, regrettably at that. Toni cried out, her climax so close yet so far. Rio fell onto the bed, slapping her thigh he said, "Get on top."

She sucked her teeth, in no mood to be on top, still irritated from being denied her needs. Rio pinched her and she yelped. "Ow! You dick!" She laughed slapping his arm. "Hurry up and get on this dick." He urged pulling her arm to help her over. She swung her leg across his body, perching herself on his lap like earlier. His dick resting perfectly against one of her cheeks. She looked down at him and he was so fucking pretty. His Adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed thickly, her eyes landing on that notorious Eagle tattoo on his throat then down over the rest that he had scattered on his body, she moaned at that alone.

She leaned forward, raising her hips and skillfully lining him up with her entrance, no hands needed. She watched as his rosy lips parted slightly and a small crease in between his eyebrows formed when they came together. "Fuuuuck." He dragged out feeling his dick be re-enveloped in her velvety walls. Toni moved her hips back and forth with one goal in mind, to get herself off. She used her knees as leverage to lift her hips up and back down, her ass jiggling when colliding with his thighs. With her lip between her teeth, her head tossed back she got to work on him.

Rio's hands gladly squeezed at her sides, her moans filling the room once again. "You're so fucking pretty on top of me, mama." He encouraged, but he truly meant it, she looked like a fucking angel. "Oh god, oh god... fuck yes, Rio!" He felt himself twitch, his wife rarely called him by his street name, she only did it when she wanted to tease him, loved to do it when they were around others.

He groaned spanking her. She smiled, a hazy look in her eyes. "What's my name, mama?"

Toni cried out, her head falling forward as she bounced out her orgasm. "Fu-fuuuck, Rio!"

"Squeezing this dick so fuckin' tight, come on..." He sat up hooking his arm around her waist, his tongue darting out to the underside of her breast, tasting the saltiness of her sweat. Toni sang out his name, her back arched and her eyes rolled. He grabbed her hips and guided her up and down, her body going limp. "Shit! Oh... Toni, I'm comin' baby." He growled through gritted teeth, he pressed his forehead against her sternum and she softly smiled feeling his warm seed spread inside her. "Fuck... that feels so good." She giggled, she was cock drunk. He kissed her glistening skin.

They stayed like that for a moment, she kissed the top of his head, her hands on his shoulders as she slowly pushed him onto his back again, she climbed off of him and sighed in satisfaction. "You want something to drink?" He asked, she shook her head. "Nah, you gotta hydrate ma. I'm making sure I put a baby in you tonight." He laughed lightly smacking her thigh. Her cheeks warmed as a smile fell onto her face.

She watched as Rio, naked and all, left the room to go downstairs. "Bring the cake too!"Toni shouted, he could just hear the smirk in her voice.

"You are so nasty!" He yelled back.

"You love it though!"

If you liked this fic free to like this fic, likes, reblogs and comments are appreciated. peace and love, see you in the next one 🤙🏾 If you're interested in reading other fics based on songs just like this one you can find them here in 'The Mixtapes.' playlist.

tags: @darqchilddaydreamz @rio-reid-whoreee @skyesthebomb tags that might be interested: @bigenergy777 @realhotgurlshit @lovedlover

#good girls rio #rio good girls #smut #husband!rio #black!xOC #reader discretion advised #Rio fanfic #Rio smut #Spotify

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nei-ning · 1 year ago

Text

Gonna rant a bit. I saw one set of beautiful anthro arts on another website. Sadly they were done in AI. I did left a comment, complimenting how beautiful these arts were but how sad it made me that they were AI arts.

The artist themselves was kind and polite, telling they use AI because they want to learn and be able to make game arts one day (but they too, apparently, with AI so...)

But then there was another user, AI "artist" too who replied to me that there's absolutely NO ARTIST who can draw anthros with detailed fur, goat like arm, lights, colors etc without editing or photoshopping. On the whole planet, absolutely none! This person clearly don't believe in people's skills when it comes on arts. Heck, I followed one artist on DA who drew ALL her arts traditionally and she drew, and still does, SUPER DETAILED FURRY ANTHROS! No photoshop, editing, nothing digital. Just her hands, paper and a set of color pencils.

Also, if people's art skills wouldn't had been amazing back in the days through mankind, we wouldn't have cave paintings, old amazing paintings or sculptures, ALL DONE BY HANDS IN TRADITIONAL WAY. NO AI, NO PHOTOSHOP OR EDITING.

Humans can learn amazing skills if they only want to. AI artists, maybe not all, just wants to take the easiest way / be lazy (and get lots of likes - like that other person who straight forward said it. That he uses AI to create furry arts to get hundreds of likes).

They also mocked my style / arts, saying they are not good enough to be used in AI arts - yet.

Like what the actual fuck?! I am pissed! I don't even want my arts to be used in AI arts by some lazy idiot (or at all). At least I draw EVERYTHING in my arts, from first sketch line to the last shade / light. Surely my skills are not as good as they could be. After all I'm self-taught, not gone in art school like some have. Not to mention I draw for fun, I draw to bring joy to my watchers, I draw therapy arts to myself, I like to keep my style easy and simple. My arts are a hobby, not professional thing or to fish a lot of likes. If my arts can make someone's day a bit better, then I've done my job! I never haven't taken my arts or skills too seriously, trying to improve them to the top.

Is there times when I wish I would put more effort to my arts, learn and study more, becoming better? Absolutely! But do I bother? Not really. Like I said, this is a hobby. I know I would burnout myself if I would start to force and pressure myself to do better, to learn more, to improve my skills. I mean I struggle to draw even now!

I do have some saved tutorials on Pinterest what I would like to try, yes, but still not in a way like if I would have a fire under my ass.

#Text #rant #AI #AI art #I'm honestly so fucking pissed right now #Been feeling pissed overall the last few days #And now this to fuel that anger #I need to calm down and do something #Because I don't want to bake my birthday cake for tomorrow while feeling like smashing someone's skull with a hammer #Sorry for the rant guys but I honestly need to let out some steam #Not to mention you guys are my friends #Only ones who I can talk to #Delete later

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paisleypens · 6 months ago

Text

too cool pt.3 | spencer agnew x f!reader

pls send me spence pics pinterest isn’t giving anymore 😔

folks we did it last part!! shes a lil short but like this gets to the point yk yk

part 1, 2

~~~

Spencer couldn't shake off the conversation with Shayne. What if he didn't screw it up? What if he could muster the courage to tell Y/N how he felt and things turned out better than he imagined? The idea was both terrifying and exhilarating, a leap of faith he wasn't sure he was ready for but knew he had to take.

The following day, as he and Y/N sat in the kitchen during their lunch break, Spencer's heart raced with uncertainty. He had rehearsed what he wanted to say a hundred times in his mind, but now that the moment was upon him, his words felt idiotic.

Y/N glanced up from her sandwich, catching Spencer's nervous expression. "You seem quiet today. Everything okay?"

Spencer took a deep breath, readying himself for what was about to come. "Y/N, there's something I need to tell you. Something I should have said a long time ago."

Y/N's curiosity was piqued, her gaze fixed on him with genuine concern. "What is it?"

Spencer's heart hammered in his chest as he spoke, his voice a mixture of nerves and sincerity. "I... I really like you, Y/N. More than just a friend or a coworker. I've been trying to hide it, but I can't ignore how I feel anymore."

There was a moment of stunned silence, the air heavy with anticipation. Y/N's expression softened, her eyes searching his as if trying to read the truth in his words.

"Spencer," she began, her voice gentle, "I had no idea you felt that way. I... I'm not sure what to say."

Spencer braced himself for rejection, his heart sinking at the thought of losing their friendship. But to his surprise, Y/N reached out and took his hand, a small smile playing on her lips.

"I've been feeling the same way," she admitted, her cheeks tinted a rosy hue. "I didn't know if you saw me the same way, if you could ever like someone like me."

Spencer felt a rush of relief and joy flood through him, a weight lifted from his shoulders. "Y/N, you're incredible. You're smart, funny, and so damn cool. I've been drawn to you since the day we met. I still think you’re too cool for me.”

Y/N's smile widened, her eyes shining with happiness. "Shut up. This is... unexpected, but in the best possible way."

And just like that, amidst the buzzing of the break room and the aroma of lunch, Spencer and Y/N's unspoken feelings were laid bare, their hearts intertwining in a moment of raw honesty and mutual affection.

“So, where are you taking me to dinner first?” Y/N asked playfully.

“See, only someone cool with that level of confidence could say that.”

“Hmm, so maybe this won’t work.”

“Don’t you dare.”

As they sat there, faces red from embarrassment and laughter, Spencer knew that this was just the beginning of their story. A stupidly cheesy love story that had been silently brewing beneath the surface, waiting for the perfect moment to bloom.

#smosh #smosh fanfiction #smosh x reader #spencer agnew #spencer agnew x reader #smoshblr #paisleypens

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lili-of-the-wildfire · 10 months ago

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okay fine, u all forced my hand in this one. these are MY azzie headcanons, mostly based on what’s canon in the books but i’m nothing if not a woman who would have been forcefully lobotomized so there’s also some delusion sprinkled in. enjoy 😙 (not proof read or correctly punctuated or even coherently arranged, we die like men on this blog)

* he may be a bit quiet in some situations, especially when meeting people who’s intentions he hasn’t quite figured out yet, but if he does nothing else, he’ll offer up a small smile in greeting. he’s not just going to sit there aloof in a corner, sans introduction.

* he’s a total vibe reader tho, his line of work has made sure of that. like he just knows when something is off about someone even if there is evidence saying otherwise. and he’s right every time, damn him.

* he tucks his hands behind his back out of habit, not necessarily shame. he used to be far more insecure, but as the centuries dragged on, he’s become less and less ashamed of what was done to him as a defenseless child.

* that’s not to say he’s fully healed and moved forward, just that time has given him some perspective and wisdom.

* (btw he loves hand massages with your lavender and lemon verbena lotion and he is not afraid to admit it)

* when he gets himself into trouble he tries to slink off into the shadows slowly, instead of disappearing all at once. nobody has a problem calling him out on it, but sometimes he honestly does get away with it.

* he has TASTE! he took one look at cassian and feyre’s gods awful decorating and didn’t even remove his outside clothes before he was fixing it.

* he and his mate’s house would look like something out of a Williams Sonoma holiday catalog.

* the two of you would put up lebron numbers on a joint pinterest account in a modern au.

* he’s quick as a whip with his dry humor and comebacks, and while cassian may be his main target, the two of them combined?? Mr. your mother and Mr. two hundred years at least TOGETHER? jesus it’s a wonder rhys came out of Illyria with the ego that he did.

* he differs from his brothers in that PDA is not his jam. he’s not getting blowjobs at the dining room table or fucking in tents while people die outside. he’s definitely not fingering you for the first time in a shabby inn, either. he’s more publicly reserved than that because he favors romance more.

* you know how rhys/feyre and cassian/nesta fucked before they were in any sort of relationship? azzie’s not doing that with someone he genuinely wants to pursue a relationship with.

* consider the following: does a man who’s spent centuries pining after the same woman come off as anything other than a romantic? no, lovely reader, not in the slightest.

* he’s got the softest heart, i just know it. while he’s kind, he has his reserved exterior, but i think once you get past that as a relationship develops, he’s so tender and thoughtful.

* his gift to nesta was so personal and thoughtful despite their superficial relationship, and he expected nothing in return. imagine what he could come up with for someone he knew on a more personal and intimate level!!

* his gifts may not be as over-the-top extravagant as Rhys would prefer, but they’re so well-planned and personal because he actually listens to you! and he watches you! and he takes the time to actually think about what would be useful and meaningful for you (Mor could NEVER, luv u tho baby)

* while he’s not overtly sexual, Azriel is a FLIRT! a shameless flirt! he doesn’t need to resort to poetry because when you exasperatedly tell him “stop trying to distract me, I’m busy!” he just arches a thick brow, looks you up and down and says “make me.”

* BROOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

* And your cheeks heat a bit because he’s looking at you like he knows exactly what you’d taste like and he’s starving for it and then he just laughs and you realize you’re a fly that got stuck in those honey-trap eyes again

* So you huff and roll your eyes, turning to leave the room but a hand on your wrist tugs your momentum backwards and suddenly there’s another hand cupping your cheek, thumb stroking along your jawline.

* A deep hum rumbles from the back of his throat, his gaze dragging from your mouth up to your eyes, “Do that again, I like watching your eyes roll back for me.”

* ladies/theydies i am PROFUSELY sweating !!!!!!!!!

#azriel x reader #azriel #azriel fanfic #acotar

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didishawn · 2 years ago

Text

Vogue (Pedri x Model! Reader)

Warnings: basically you showing off your home to Vogue, a bit of Spanish here and there

Masterlist

You do the simulation of opening the door as if the cameraman has caught you by surprise, ample smile on your face as you greet the future viewers.

"Hello Vogue, I am y/n s/n and today I am giving you all an inside look into my home"

The video starts in the living room, modern furniture, a bit impersonal at first if you will, the true essence lays in the small details.

"So, this might be disappointing for some, to hear out furniture doesn't have a deep meaning behind, but it is the truth. When my boyfriend and I were looking to fill up the house, we honestly just wanted everything to fulfill their duties, a coach to be a coach and a desk to be a desk. The only real thought we put into it were the color coordinations really, but not even that as you will see in some parts"

The camera follows you as you direct yourself to the chimney, watching it with a special glint in your eye "The one thing I really wanted the house to have was this, all my life I have dreamed of the typical scene, you know? The cuddling in front of the fire with your loved one and a good book"

The camera zooms in to the decorations on top of the chimney. Photos of you and Pedri, his family, your own, your friends, the lens of the camera stops in a photo of Pedri and you, waiting for you to explain yourself about it "This was back in Qatar for the World Cup when he had a free day from training and we just went around the city. Unfortunately, this was the only photo decent enough to set up here, but we have probably hundreds of that day" the photo shows the two of you on a date back in the day, bright smiles and the sun setting on the background.

The camera then follows you into the kitchen, much more colorful than the living room and not matching at all. There are plant decorations all over the roof, and cooking robots that not even you are sure what they are for.

"For the kitchen I must confess we did have some help from Pinterest, and by that I mean there is probably another kitchen somewhere in the world that looks exactly like this"

You walk to the counter "Of course we have lots of Canarian bananas, I wonder why, and then, I am more of a sweets as a snack type of girl, I know, not the healthiest but I promise I don't abuse them either" you open one of the closets and show them all your snacks "and here we have every kid's dream, you all better believe that our house is ready for whenever one of our friends needs someone on babysitter duties"

"Now, I must confess neither Pedri or I are the best cooks, we won't burn the kitchen down but someone might get sick after eating. And while Pedri has lunch on the club, I most of the time eat out too because of work. But we are pretty lucky that Fer, Pedri's brother, is quite the culinary and comes lots of times to eat with us and cooks us something too"

"We have heard Pedri's mother is a pretty good chef" the cameraman says and you nod.

"Yes, she totally is, I have asked her to teach me a thing or two, but a few lessons in and I think she has learned that I am a total disaster, but don't worry Rosy, I promise I will get better and won't kill your son with my food"

You leave the kitchen and they follow you through a long hallway decorated with pictures of you in the front pages of the most famous magazines in one side "This decoration was Pedri's idea, I hate it but he doesn't let me take them down" on the other there are photos of Pedri with both the Barça shirt and the National Team's, as well as some shirts of other players -Messi, Mbappe, Agüero... - and his own all signed "And my revenge were this pictures"

You walk them into your office "This is where I lock myself up to work if I ever need it" the room is filled up with books, some photos with friends and fashion magazines "as a model you always have to keep up with fashion trends, or even study to create your own" you point to the projector hanging from the roof and the screen "I also study old catwalks to see what I can improve"

You walk them closer to you bookshelf, and show off your precious collection "As some of you may know, I am a huge bookworm, most of my freetime I am buried into the pages of one"

"Any recommendations?"

You think for a moment "Well, it depends, for younger ages my absolute favorite is the Percy Jackson saga, probably my favourite too as you never grow too old to read them" you point to the books, in the center of them all for everyone to see "Now, for older ages I do like very much Daisy Jones and the Six, The Song of Achilles or maybe The Secret History. They are all typical really, but a good way for new readers to start or if you simply want someone to comment books with, its easy to find people who have read these"

You now direct them to see the photos "Now, this is for sure one of my favorites areas of the house, there are photos with friends..." photos with Gavi, Ansu, Ferran and then also with your own friends "Pedri..." photos of you two kissing, one with his parents and another with his brother "my family..." a big family photo, then single ones with each member "and now onto the big part, celebrities..." photos with Messi, Neymar, Bella Hadid, Ariana Grande, Dua Lipa - anyone you can name, really.

"Which is your favorite one?"

You think for a moment, then answer "I really like this one with Pedri and Messi when Pedri won the Golden Boy, it was a good night, I almost cried when Messi said my name"

You leave your office and next is the gym "Mostly Pedri uses it really, I am more of a run around the city type of girl, but yeah, we have everythung he needs to stay in his top form"

Next are the guest rooms "Mostly Pedri's family uses them really"

"Does your family not come around?"

"Oh they do, just not as much as his. His family adore each other so much, my own knows we better not spend that much time together or we will probably end up killing each other"

You direct them through a door and lead them into your dressing room, the thing is full with yours and Pedri's clothes, mostly yours though.

"My favorite part here is definitely this one" you say and lead them to a zone full of sweatshirts that are definitely not yours "I must confess I am a steal-your-clothes type of girlfriend"

You show them your shoes, pointing to your favorite pair, the same with other types of clothing's before showing off the famous mirror you take selfies in that everyone is in love with and leave the room.

The bathroom comes next, big enough for two people to be inside at the same time "There is a side for Pedri and one for me" you say in front of the two sinks "He says things are not proportionate, though" and it is true, as you open you own closet the thing is full of everything you own, on his there are a couple of things that are his, the basics, and on the lower part he too keeps some of your stuff "I don't see what he says, everything is good in my opinion"

As you leave the bathroom, you hear the door open on the background, and are quick on your feet to greet your boyfriend, the crew almost struggling to keep up with you and film the kiss you two share.

"Perdón, se me olvidaba hoy tenías esto, me puedo ir si quieres" (sorry, I forgot this was today, I can go if you want me to)

You turn to look at the crew, they all sake their heads "Noo, quédate, igual solo me queda por mostrar el patio" (noo, stay, only the backyard is the one thing left)

"¿Mostraste la habitación?" (you showed the bedroom?)

You shake your head "Claro que no, no se van a morir por no ver una cama" (of course not, it's not like they will die if they don't see a bed)

"No lo sé, algunos de tus fans son muy intensos" (I don't know, some of your fans are pretty intense)

"Hablo él que tiene a las niñas de 12 años peleándose por él en tiktok" (says the one who has the twelve-year-olds fighting for him on tiktok)

You are followed by your boyfriend and crew outside to see the big pool, the goal, the basket full of balls, a barbecue and the seats you use to tan.

"I must confess it's Pedri who spends most of the time here, I mostly only come out during the summer to keep myself tan"

"¿Les estás diciendo que no usas nuestra piscina?" (are you telling them how you don't use our pool?)

"Más o menos, ¿por qué no presentas tú nuestro gran jardín?" (more or less, why don't you present our great garden?)

"Seguro lo haré mejor que tú" he clears his throat and puts on the same face he does on Barça videos "Espera, ¿tengo que hacerlo en inglés?" (I most definitely will do it better than you do. Wait, do I have to do it in English?)

The crew shakes his head "We will make sure to translate it later"

"Menos mal. Bueno, acá tenemos una gran piscina que la señorita no usa más que para postureo, se habrá metido cuatro veces contadas" (thanks god. Well, here we have a great pool that the young lady only uses for photos, she will have been in it about four times)

"¡No le digas eso!" (don't tell them that!)

"Silencio, que estoy en mi entrevista con Vogue. Bueno, también tenemos esta portería, así para practicar un poco, aunque la portera s/n no es muy buena que digamos" (silent, I am in my Vogue interview. Well, here we have a goal to practice a bit, even though goalkeeper s/n is not very good)

You roll your eyes and he sticks his tongue out at you.

"Las tumbonas para que la señorita se ponga morena y una barbacoa que ninguno tocamos porque nos la cargamos" (the chairs so the lady can tan and a barbecue that neither of us touch because we would break it)

"Well guys, that is all our house, we hope you liked the video, thanks so much to Vogue for coming all the way to Barcelona. ¿Quieres decir algo?" (you want to say something?)

"Ehhh, give a like? Subscribirse y... ya está, ¿no?" (subscribe and... that's it, right?)

"Yeah, that's it, lots of kisses and I will be seeing you next time"

The camera takes one last shot of you two mustering out your best smiles and the video is over.

#pedri #pedri headcanon #pedri imagine #pedri x reader #Vogue #barcelona #fc barca #barca #spanish nt #spain national team #spain nt #football imagine #football player

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railingsofsorrow · 9 months ago

Note

Hi!! Hope you're doing fine! I was wondering about the one shot “the way I loved you” in the originals masterlist. I'm really curious and I wanted to ask when you plan on posting it?

a/n: I'm glad you asked. this has been sitting on my drafts for a while! happy I can finally post it. hope you like it!

The Way I Love(d) You

[stefan salvatore x reader; kol mikaelson x reader]

[all pictures belong to pinterest]

SONG INSPIRATION » THE WAY I LOVED YOU by taylor swift

summary: stefan salvatore is kind and sensible and you couldn't ask for anything better. but beneath the “you look beautiful tonight” you miss the "screaming and fighting" and the way his name slipped out of your lips at 2a.m. you liked assurance and perfection but you missed insanity. more than anything, you missed the way you loved him. you missed kol mikaelson.

pairings: s.salvatore x f!vampire!reader; k.mikaelson x f!vampire!reader

w.c: 9.4K (I got carried away)

warnings/content: portrayal of healthy and unhealthy relationships dynamic; discussion about life and death; blood (mentioned); non-graphic descriptions of violence; pregnancy (mentioned); slight damon and tyler bashing because they are the most annoying characters ever created; camille o'connell plays therapist; katherine pierce x reader (you blink you miss it); gemini coven (mentioned); discussions about marriage; canon divergence; fluff; happy ending depending on which you're rooting for; paragraphs in italics are flashbacks.

A/N²: this one shot does not follow the tvd + t.o original timeline, so some facts may be out of order.

[part of “the taylor swift anthology”]

navi

masterpost

tvd masterlist

t.o masterlist

[alternate ending]

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

❝ he is sensible and so incredible.

and all my single friends are jealous

he says everything I need to hear, and it's like I couldn't ask for anything better. ❞

“Did you arrive alright?”

You reply with a soft hum, distracted by the bag filled with books related to witchcraft. You really did not think you'd be swiped back to this city again, less alone acting as a librarian for the Original vampires for the hundred time in your life. Oh, well. Who could ever deny Rebekah Mikaelson of her wishes? You had been extremely close before, despite the unsaid goodbyes. She did try to threaten your life if you didn't come to New Orleans soon, but those were empty words. And you could easily take her in a fight – not that she could ever know that.

“Yes,” you say through the phone, remembering there was someone in the other line. “I'm settling in on the hotel.”

“Okay.”

“Stefan.” The corner of your mouth twitches slightly. “Say what you want to say.“

You hear him let out a breath as he usually does when he's holding something back.

“Are you sure you don't need me there with you? I could easily—”

“No,” you cut your fiancée off, albeit in a gentle manner. You sit down at the edge of your hotel bed, feeling the rough fabric of the mattress against your jeans as you inspect the cover of a rather thin book compared to the other thick ones scattered around. “Stefan, I'm perfectly fine. You don't have to worry. And I know you won't listen to me and you'll worry either way…” a smug grin stretches on your face when he tries to speak again. “… but I can handle myself, okay? You can call and text and I'll reply right back.”

Ever since you met Stefan Salvatore, he has had your best interest at heart. Not only yours, but everyone he cared about. In the friendship stage, he slowly inserted himself into your life, taking careful steps to not scare your cold heart away to the mountains. You never knew why, somehow, you had some importance to him. When you started dating, he made sure to introduce you to something that by no means you wanted to partake in: safety. Not the kind in which you are suffocated and trapped, but the kind in which you are held by someone and still are able to take a breath of fresh air. The real meaning of safety.

He takes you on dates and he opens up your car door as the perfect gentleman that he is. The line you look beautiful never straying from his compliments. It took you a while to get used to that. Being loved without having to look over your shoulder, being cared for by someone who would truly be there at the end of the day.

Stefan is safe. He is the warm blanket on a cold day with hot chocolate and a good book. He's the guy who never makes you wait while carrying that endearing softness around him. You couldn't ask for anything better.

“Yeah, alright.” He says with a resigned sigh. “You really don't want me there, huh?” The playfulness being drowned out by a tinge of hesitation in his tone that if you didn't know his tells, you might have missed it.

“You know that's not it.” The book is placed on top of the bedside table. Your choice has been made. “But I don't want to draw unnecessary drama into our lives. As soon as I can get this done, I can come back to New York. To you.”

He offers you a sound of contentment. “That sounds nice to me.” There is some ruffling on his end and he lets out a muffled groan. “Hey, beautiful? I have to go. Damon is hijacking our apartment.”

You briefly recall Stefan making a comment that his brother would visit you guys soon. That had been around a month ago? You are never one to question Damon and his stupid decisions. Fortunately, you were far away to deal with any of that.

“I'm sorry,” you mumble without masking your joy for not having to be present in the same room as Damon Salvatore. “Good luck and don't let him mess with my stuff or I'll personally break his neck and set his dick on fire.“

“I heard that!” You reply that it was meant for him to hear. “He's calling you a menace.” Stefan chuckles at your bickering but he eventually has enough. “Call me if you need anything, yeah? Be safe. I love you.”

“I love you too, and I believe you'll need more backup than I will.” You smile at his scoff and the call comes to an end.

You resist the urge to go to Russeau's to enter an alcoholic coma instead of facing the people you haven't spoken to in a decade. No, you have faced worse and what could possibly go wrong while visiting some old friends?

You snatch the book from the bedside table and tuck it under your arm.

Guess it's time to pay a visit to the Mikaelsons.

━━━━━

Meeting the Mikaelsons had been the best and the worst moment of your vampire life. Yes, some people could be both at the same time. You met Rebekah before you met the others, in a ball a really long time ago. The Mikaelson name had yet to be spread around like a disease due to the extreme danger they represented – where you lived, at least. Vampire groupies already had lots of knowledge about them at the time.

The thing was, you had no idea who Rebekah was until almost everyone in your city was murdered. Her brothers searched for her after a few years of radio silence, apparently. That's when you understood how protective family could be. Klaus, most of them. But that one was more obsessive and paranoid than any other. Rebekah told you that herself, but you saw it with your own eyes through the years you tagged along in their journey.

You have to say that out of anyone in that family, Klaus Mikaelson would be the last person you'd expect to become a father.

He was the one responsible for practically destroying Katerina Petrova's life, along with many other people you couldn't care to mention right now. She had been your friend once, before she became a nuisance in your life. But still. Klaus was ruthless and anyone capable of making an enemy out of him realized the bitter poison that came with it; if not death, of course.

Nevertheless, the cruel reputation of the Mikaelson family did not belong to Klaus only. In levels of pent up rage, you could easily mention Elijah. He was nothing but kind to you in the moments you've spent as friends, but you were aware of the demons he kept at bay for most of his existence. The man tries hard to be a good person and, in your opinion, he achieved that in all of the senses, although he was never really one to trust other people's opinions about him, whether they'd be good or bad.

Elijah could be just as cruel as Klaus, but as Klaus was loud in a broadcaster type of way, Elijah was silently dreadful.

Finn and Freya were the last ones you encountered. They were both gentle in their own way. As Freya kept up a mask right after breaking her curse, doubtful and distrusting, Finn was overall distasteful towards his own kind. You noticed that between the countless times he attempted to kill his siblings and himself. At first, you held a grudge over the fact that your boyfriend (back then) could never catch a break from his own brother. But eventually you understood Finn's reasons and everything that was left was sympathy. You had trouble adjusting to the vampire life yourself, mostly the drinking blood part but also the eternal life bit as well. Living and dying was something you had never doubted. It was the cycle of life, after all, why would you question it?

Some days, you didn't want it. But those became rare ones as you tasted the sweet flavor of having people that went through the same dilemma by your side. They made everything bearable. You just hoped Finn could also find those people, if not his siblings, then maybe he could find peace somewhere far from them. He had every right of taking some time away if that was his wish.

Family can be suffocating.

Freya had been one of the nicest people you have ever met. Beneath that cold front she built before warming up to the Mikaelsons, there was a tender-hearted woman whom one day you used to call your friend. Freya was there when you crumbled down, she had been the one to help you pull yourself up and she was the one who let you know it was okay to leave if that's what you needed to do. If that's what your heart desires, do it. Her words never left you in some way, you were forever grateful.

Hayley entered your life before she became an honorary Mikaelson – she hated that joke. You helped her find information about her pack when both of you were still back at Mystic Falls. She had been the first person to point out Stefan's interest in you, though you didn't buy it. You actually became closer during her pregnancy. You weren't present in Hope's first months after she was born, but Hayley made sure to send you occasional pictures over the years. You didn't feel so out of the loop thanks to that.

And then, there was Kol.

The epitome of recklessness, wrath and chaos.

He was the a car accident that drove you over a bridge when you couldn't swim and a pillow fort you built overnight to dissipate your nightmares. Kol was the reason why you considered the Mikaelsons to be both the best and worst moment of your life. He was the rollercoaster that fed your desperation for love, displaying a pretty view at the top of the ride, before the crash eventually came and killed all that excitement.

Neither of you expected to fall so fast for one another. Or fall at all.

But he pushed his way into your heart with no permission granted, with his convinced smirks, wild persona and careless nature. He was cold in a warm manner. Tender in the way he held your fingertips with the same bloody hand that also had possession of your heart. And unbelievably good as he cared enough to let you into his heart.

You were too similar for it not to happen, until you were too different to remain together.

Kol Mikaelson conveyed all of the rumors that were spread about him, never once hiding behind a mask, and that's the reason you fell in love with no way back. It had never been an easy choice – choice... that's funny. Does love ever give you a choice? — his enemies became your enemies, you were a target, besides the unstoppable family hassle you always seemed to be involved in. In spite of the obvious reasons, the grounds for breaking up arose from him, surprisingly. Or not so surprisingly. It may have been his way of running away, but it was your way out of the mess he created in your head and heart. According to Hayley, he wasn't left unscathed. He suffered in a way that they had never seen before: through silence.

Kol had never been silent. He craved an audience, which was why he enjoyed discounting his ire on people. He wanted them to fight back in order for him to retaliate much harder. After you left, he didn't murder villages, tortured old enemies or provoked his siblings enough to get a rise out of them. You weren't that surprised once Hayley told you he left as well. What truly left you bewildered was the fact that he didn't cause trouble, turning into a shadow of the wildest Mikaelson people used to hear about.

You couldn't bear to feel guilty. If he wasn't being himself, that was his own doing. He left you first. Looking into the bright side, maybe he had finally mustered the act of growing up.

However, even with the all the heartache he had caused you, loving him was never a regret. You don't know if he felt the same, maybe you'd never know.

Stepping inside the Mikaelson manor made you self-conscious but still nostalgic. You hadn't lived in that house, of course they had built up many other expensive properties over the decade you've been gone. But there is something in the air when the Mikaelsons are around. And it isn't death or blood that you were referring to.

“Are you the friend my mom said was coming to visit us?”

A little girl with dark red hair met you in the entrance of the house. A stuffed bunny dangling from her small hands. You couldn't believe your eyes, but in the meantime you observed her sage green eyes that carry a brush of cinnamon and the tip of her nose, the familiarity practically slapping you in the face.

“I believe so,” you croak out as your lips quirk up in a soft smile. You tell her your name, introducing yourself and say, “and you must be Hope.”

“That's right.“ She gives you a little wave. You nearly leap on your feet at the idea that you're not considered a stranger for her to immediately turn away as parents would advise children. “I'll tell my mom you're here so she can invite you in.”

You nod, leaning on the door, you could feel the spell barely pushing you away. A harsh breeze brush your strands in your face and you roll your eyes at the familiar scent of a hybrid nearby you.

“I have lipstick on, you know how that does not match with hair?“ Two arms engulf you in a strong embrace. You can't help but laugh as your body entwines with Hayley's. “Hay,“ you mumble to her shoulder. “You are kind of ten times stronger than me. Perks of being a hybrid and all...“

“Oh, please. I should be actually crushing you.”

When she cups your cheeks, like a mother would when her child has been gone for too long, you stare at the sage green eyes you had just seen in the entrance. “I missed you too.“ Hayley gives you an eyeroll, letting you go as she asks Hope to let you in. Ah, it made sense. She's not a vampire.

Hope smiles timidly at you as you enter the foyer, her gaze switching to her mother almost pleadingly. Hayley mentions with a tilt of her chin towards the backdoor and Hope quickly rushes away to what you assume is the backyard of the house.

“She's playing hide and seek.“ Hayley clarifies their short interaction, turning to you. “When did you arrive?“

“Today.“ You say, lifting the book to her line of sight. “I told you I kept something that could help.“

“I know,“ she smiles gratefully. Hayley hasn't aged a day since you last met. Of course, she isn't physically able to age at all due to vampirism, but her perpetually concerned gaze was replaced by relaxed shoulders and a proud smile. She has joy written all over her. For the looks of it, motherhood has done her good.

“She's like a mix of you and Klaus.“ You watch the girl running around searching for whoever she's playing with. Hayley takes you to the balcony, the view is pretty that it takes a bit of your breath away. The forest on display is filled with orange and yellow because of the Autumn season. You've always found the sounds of the forest were the perfect noise to live close by.

“So I've heard.” Hayley crosses her arms above the railing, driving her attention to you after pointing somewhere to Hope who's in desperate need of help in the seeking aspect of the game. “How's your life been?” She asks, shifting her whole body towards yours. “New York, huh?”

You nod, imitating her previous position. “Yes. It's a great city.” She remains silent, probably waiting for you to elaborate. It's not like this is a casual visit and the Mikaelsons could be in any corner with their enhanced hearing. Not that you're ashamed of your current life, you just don't feel like yelling from the rooftops.

“That ring is pretty.” Hayley muses when you avoid looking at her. She can see your blush and her eyes soften at that. It's been so long since she has seen you remotely happy, she likes the sight. “You seem happy.” Her squeeze in your shoulder states reassurance. “I hope he doesn't screw up or I'll be coming over with more than just an army.“ A deep groan escapes your throat as your head falls on your forearm.

“You are worse than a whole freaking army.“

“You missed me.“

Shaking your head, your lips twitch in a bitter smile.

“Of course I missed you, Hayley.“ Your smile falls slightly as you see that Hope finally found who she's been looking for in the past half hour.

Kol is coming out from behind a tree and dramatically throwing himself on the grass as Hope's giggles echo around.

“I missed all of you.” Slips out in a whisper.

As soon as Hayley follows your gaze, she picks up the reason for the sudden change in your demeanor. This is what she's been trying to delay.

There's no point now. “He came back at the beginning of this year.” You blink, turning away from the cute scene happening right below you. “Said he missed his niece. I don't know if that's a good thing or not.”

She steps away from the balcony and that's what it takes for you to stop staring at a playful Kol tickling Hope to death.

“Why wouldn't it be a good thing?” You swallow hard, sitting down on one of the loveseats. The ceiling is not bland white as you expected it to be, as you analyse the colors and the shapes, you recognize the famous painting you've been in love with since it was first made.

Van Gogh's Starry Night brings the ceiling alive with the false sensation of movement the circular brush strokes provides.

“He's teaching her magic and she makes some of my stuff disappear for fun. Kol's such a bad influence— Oh.” Hayley's face stretches into a smile upon seeing where you were staring at. “Klaus painted it. This is Hope's bedroom.”

That's when you realize the soft blue on the walls along with colorful drawings clearly made by a child.

“It's beautiful.” You let out in admiration. “God, that bastard is talented.”

Hayley huffed, “Yeah, well, ever since you mention it in that very first Skype call she can't stop talking about it. So he painted it.”

Leaning back on the chair, you glance at her. “That's such a dad thing of him.” She shrugs in silent agreement. “He's not a bad influence,” you utter after the conversation dies down. You're not referring to Klaus. “He loves children, that's just his way of teaching her how to protect herself.” In extreme cases. It's better to teach her to protect herself instead of delaying it when she actually needs it.

Hayley's eyes travel across your features for a while and just as you begin to grow self-conscious of what you said, she flips the topic back to the real issue at hand.

“So, do you usually keep old grimoires in a secret passageway at your apartment or something?”

Your lips raise in amusement, “It's from an old friend. He lent it to me for safekeeping.”

The hybrid's eyes regarded you with suspicion, then she glances down at the book in her hands.

“Should I even be touching that?”

“C'mon,” you say in jest. “My friends aren't that bad.”

“I am not that bad. The Mikaelsons are certainly debatable and if I can recall someone called Katherine Pierce who was also considered your friend — who I still doubt that it was all that she was — then we need to discuss what you mean by not that bad.”

“Should I mention Tyler dogbreath Lockwood, Hayley? He was a nuisance!” You throw back in a complete mature way. “I can't believe you would voluntarily hold a conversation with the guy.”

Hayley snickers, “He wasn't as bad as you make him out to be.”

“You're right,“ you nod. “He was worse.“

Hayley hums, quietly analyzing the grimoire with what you can tell is interest that leads to boredom. She closes it in a thud and stands up. “I'll have to give this to Davina.“

You frown in confusion, following her out of the room. “The Claire witch? You're trusting that teenager with the life of my niece?” Your tone raises in light disbelief as Hayley descends the stairs completely unbothered by your accusation. “Where is Freya? Where is everyone— You can't possibly be serious, Hayley.”

“Freya is generously taking an early flight back to Virginia as we speak, cutting her honeymoon short. She was the one who requested Davina to be put to use in this task, if I can recall.” You knew it was Elijah before you saw his impeccable suit, merely because of his eloquence. He offers you a smile as you reach the living room. “Welcome back.” You're amused by the way he ignores your attempt at handshaking to lay a kiss on the back of your hand. He's always done that, it's no surprise. That's an Elijah thing to do. His eyes fall on your left hand. “And congratulations on your engagement. I've heard.”

You give him a close lipped smile in return, withdrawing your hand to cross your arms.

“Yes, it seems that everyone has.”

“You know, the term being put to use might not be taken as a good thing to every person.” The voice behind you causes your body to freeze. “Hello, stranger.”

Elijah is gone with the wind before you can notice and Hayley, who seems to have ventured off somewhere, still isn't back.

“She's not a stranger, Uncle Kol.” Hearing Hope's voice as you turn around is a form of relief, you admit. She's smiling kindly at you from her Uncle Kol's shoulders. “That's mom's friend. Remember, the one she told us was coming over?“

Kol acts fascinated. “That is true, Hope. Thank you for reminding me.”

She giggled, mouthing out to you above his head “Forgetful.”

You crack a smile at that. Mikaelson humor.

It doesn't take long for Hope to get tired of your attention and scurry away to her bedroom. And then, there were two.

How do you greet someone who broke your heart but still has a part of it with them?

“You look beautiful.”

You can affirm something: do not start like that.

“Thank you.“ You reply shortly. The stairs are right there, you could literally take a step back and you'd be on your way to the first floor. Still, you remain in the same place.

You had yet to look him in the eye since he entered the living room. That doesn't happen until he stops right in front of you.

The first thing you notice about Kol was his voice. Centuries back, when you first met, he had said your name before you even acknowledged his family. It slipped out of his tongue; honey mixed with pepper. A strange mixture that ends up being perfect once you taste.

Saying someone's name is like holding a secret beneath your tongue. You have the power to reveal it, you can pronounce it and you can choose to savour it to yourself. The taste is not made for everyone, it is reserved for you and you only. And he had that power from the first moment he called out your name.

“How's married life going?“

Your head tilts in confusion as his eyes are cast downwards. A scowl turns your lips into a frown. Just like that, the peaceful haze is over.

“Not married,” you say through gritted-teeth, turning away from him and from the flight of stairs. You want to get out of this house. If someone else asks about anything related to marriage again you'd probably snap.

“Yet, right?”

“That's what engagements work for, have you not had your fair share of those to understand that?” He has followed you outside and is faster than you since he's currently leaning with his body on your car door. Arms crossed and a side smile.

You hated to know what that meant. You hated that you knew him at all.

“Can you move?“ You snap, eyes narrowing. Kol hums softly as if he's considering your request. Dick. “Okay, I'll walk then.”

The defeated sigh you heard as you turn your back on him is almost a reason to make you relieved. But your arm was pulled back and that cold touch just made your whole body halt instantly.

❝ but I miss screaming and fighting and kissing in the rain... ❞

“Can you stop being stubborn for a second?” He exclaims, kicking the car door shut as he walked with heavy steps towards you.

The rain softly paints the car windows with its tears. You forced him to step on the breaks so you could get out of the vehicle because of how mad you were. You couldn't remember the reason for the fight, but it happened and you didn't want to be around him.

“It's going to rain.”

You scoff, “I'm not made of sugar. I can handle a little rain.”

The thunder rolls in the sky, causing you to flinch slightly. A cold hand grabs your wrist.

“You'd rather walk in a thunderstorm than argue with me, is it?” Kol shrugs off his jacket with a scowl, covering your shoulder with it in a swift movement, one he had done many times before. “Real mature, love.” He shoves the car keys into your hand.

“What—”

“Take the car.” He had sped off before you could ask him to go to hell. Because no. You wouldn't take his car and leave him in a freaking thunderstorm. But he decided that just like he decided to put an end to your relationship.

“Stay.“ He says, drawing his hand back with hesitance. That quickly brought you back to the present. “I didn't mean to upset you. I'm sorry.” That's one of the rarest moments you've heard him apologize, it didn't used to be something in his vocabulary.

“I'll just wait for Freya at the hotel. It's not like we can start the spell before she's here.” You clear your throat, a bit taken aback by his presence still. You feel so silly.

Kol nods thoughtfully, taking a step back from you as if you aren't allowed to be too close. “Okay.” And before you can enter your car and drive off, your ears are still very much in tune with his voice even if he's all the way inside the house. “It's good to see you again.”

You're not sure if you share the same feeling.

━━━━━

“This is from the Gemini coven.”

You turn away from Davina's chanting to stare at Freya's impassive stance. She always kept that façade while doing magic.

“And what of it?“ Freya gives you a sideways glance as you roll your eyes, leaning back on the wall as the Witch finishes up the spell and mutters something to Hayley. Freya has done her part and for some reason they needed another set of hands. You don't question it. “Don't fret. There'll be no retaliation.”

“Good, because we don't need a crazy siphoner touring around New Orleans.”

You crack a chuckle, brushing your hair behind your ear. “The grimoire is technically mine.” Freya's eyes narrow suspiciously at your claim. “What? It is. It was a gift.”

“Kai Parker gave you a gift?” She regards you with disbelief. You shrug in response, it's the truth. It's not like you were capable of stealing something from Malachai Parker and leave unscathed. He is a tiny bit insane and you aren't special.

“She has a thing for K's, doesn't she?” You flinch at the breath in your neck. It earns Rebekah a glare as she walks around the pillar you were leaning on, her smirk takes her whole face, granting mischief in her blue eyes.

“We're done.”

You cut off your jab towards Rebekah when Davina's voice reaches your attention.

“Just like that?”

Freya gives you another one of her warning looks but you are facing the Claire Witch with a hard gaze. You didn't trust her then and you wouldn't trust her now. And it has nothing to do with her age nor the lack of experience in the magic department — or life, in general — it was more of a grudge you held for the girl ever since she messed with your family. You recalled quite well how she had weakened the Mikaelsons and played a part in Marcel's stupid plan to destroy all of them. Almost. You hated both of them with your every being. No matter how Klaus may have forgiven Marcel for it or how Hayley claims that Davina was manipulated.

“We did everything that was in the grimoire. She's safe.” Her voice carries defiance and you could certainly enjoy the opportunity to play into her attitude.

A low hum left your lips and you hear someone sigh around the room, you couldn't concentrate enough to name who it was but you have a guess.

“Okay. That's great.” You utter, mouth widening into a satisfied grin. You like the way she regards you with caution as you stride over. “You're gonna need that?” You ask in a whisper, pointing towards the book in her small hands. She hands it over to you, you take it slowly, mumbling a thank you and offering a sickly sweet smile. Your distaste is a mutual feeling, you're glad to know.

The entire family heads back to the Mikaelson manor. Despite Rebekah's pestering for you to go with them, you manage to escape for some alone time.

Rousseau's is where you end up after walking aimlessly through the city. Some things have changed. There are a few new musicians playing in the corners of the streets, but those familiar faces still there as well. The streets are illuminated by the lampposts scattered around the French Quarter, the shadows of the streetlights dancing at your feet remind you of times where you'd feel happiness holding you together. The bittersweet moment is interrupted by something soft tickling your ankle, causing you to jump in surprise. Quite literally.

“Never seen a cat before?” Someone mocks your tense stance as you watch the feline exit the bar.

You would have snapped their neck if the sweet smile of Camille O'Connell didn't reach your eyes right away. She's drying up glasses on the counter, probably getting ready to close the establishment, it was around the time she usually did.

“Can you spare this poor soul a bit of alcohol?”

“I'll never get used to that,” Camille says, shaking her head and the sound of titling metal made your face stretch into a grin. “You're not old enough to drink.” She starts preparing your favourite drink. Alcohol isn't your favourite thing in the world, but Cami's drinks are sweet enough to appease your taste buds. You didn't spend hours wallowing in this bar with nothing to accompany you — the alcohol and Camille's ears to listen to your misery.

Your nose wrinkles. “I am over 400 years old, Cami. How many times have we been over this?”

She tsked, curling her lower lip, throwing the cloth on her shoulder as she leans on the bar top.

“You look like seventeen.”

“That's flattering?” You muse, sipping your blue beverage. “I can't even remember what my seventeens were like.” That last part you mumbled to yourself.

“At what age did you turn?” Her voice is sad and you start grieving the fun of the moment.

Taping your nails against the wood distractedly, you work on pulling the terrifying moment from the abyss of your mind. Camille's gaze trails over your features in her own curiosity.

“It's been a while, huh?” She felt the need to change the subject. That made you crack a smile. Did she think she had genuinely upset you?

“Ten years or so.”

“Yes.” She says pointedly. “What brings you back?” She finally finishes cleaning up and you realise you're probably delaying her sleep schedule, but she hasn't complain about your overstay and you don't mention it.

You decide on telling her the truth. “Family stuff.” The partial truth, that is. “I died in 1603,” you refer to her previous question. Her eyes nearly pop out of her head. “I had recently entered my twenties. Can say now that I never got out of it.”

She didn't laugh at your joke, but you did.

“I'm sorry. Do you still...”

“Remember it?”

“Yes.”

You shrug nonchalantly. “It was a life changing event. So, yeah. I do remember it. But it doesn't make me feel anything anymore. It's something I no longer care about.” That's the truth. The memory doesn't affect you as much as it used to.

Cami nod, a strand of her hair slipping from behind her ear. She brushes it back and you tilt your head at the bracelet in her wrist. Once that has been there ever since you first visited Rousseau's.

“You still wear it.” You point out. She frowns confused, but her gaze follows where your attention lays and she hums.

“Yes. Can't have myself walking around the zoo with no defense.”

“The zoo—” you can't suppress the snort that comes out of you. “I can't believe you just said that.”

“I did.” Camille puts her hand on your shoulder and you deflect lightly. Guess it's time to leave. “I'm closing up. It's almost 1 am.”

“Sorry, Cami.” You shouldn't have bothered her that much. “Can I walk you home?”

It's her turn to chuckle. She locks up the bar and spins around to face you, a knowing glint in her bright blue eyes. You don't like that look. It kind of reminds you of Caroline when she knows something about yourself that you don't. Or that you just don't want to admit yet.

You miss her too.

“Are you really that desperate to avoid your problems?” You gape at her. “C'mon. Did you actually come here so I could make you a Grasshopper?” Oh, so that is the name of the drink you've had since forever. Good to know.

“I wanted some company.” You confess, rolling your eyes as she waits for you to follow her steps. Half the truth, again. This was the best place to avoid your problems — one problem. “Is that such a crime?”

“You sound like Klaus.”

“Stop offending me or I'll kill you.”

“Go ahead. I'm sure you'll like it when my blood burns your throat from how much vervain I've been taking.”

Your lips quirk up in a lopsided grin.

“I'm just going to say something, feel free to ignore it.” Cami announces as you crossed the street. You've arrived at her apartment. When you stop in front of the entrance and she turns her full body to you, her face has lost all the merriment. “I don't know why you are back. I don't even know the entire reason why you left so suddenly.” That makes you grow tense. “But that's none of my business. What I want to say is that, don't allow what let you down get to you again. If you think that getting out of here, taking some space to yourself, was good, then so be it. It's your life, okay? You deserve to be happy.”

You stand quiet for a while, absorbing everything she had said.

“I am.” You say quietly. “I am happy.” Away from here.

She smiles down at you, then, surprisingly, pulls you into a hug. Cami and you have never been close. You just listened to each other's complaints in the midst of the bar's loudness. You grew to have a bond but it was nothing as tight-knit as what you had with Freya or Hayley. Although, you did miss Cami while you were gone. She was the only one who knew how to make a good Grasshopper, anyway.

“Stop by the bar before you take off god-knows-where again.” She requests after you split apart.

“I'll think about it.” You bury your hands on your jacket with a smile as she bids you goodbye.

The city is never completely quiet. There's local music playing in some corners still at that time of the day. You realise you have reached Jackson Square when you put a pause on your walk, listening and breathing into New Orleans. Even the smell is different, maybe it is the lack of tragedy in the streets. You hope it carries on that way, Hope deserves to live peacefully. Or as peaceful as Hayley Marshall's and Klaus Mikaelson's daughter can live.

“Can you step out of there? It's getting ridiculous.” A woman crossing the street gives you an ugly look and you couldn't care less. You were talking to the Edward Cullen beside the tree a few feet back from where you stand. “How long have you been following me like a creepy stalker?”

“I've just arrived.” Kol says. You can see him rolling his eyes without taking a look at him. “And I wasn't following you.”

“Oh,” you blink innocently at him. “Sorry. I didn't know you had become such a religious man over the course of ten years.”

St. Louis Cathedral has all of its lights off, which means it's closed for the night. It's not like you wanted to enter the church in the first place, you just thought it looked pretty this time of the night. You'd frequent that area a lot to read a book when you were bored. Kol never shared that particular interest.

❝ and It's 2 a.m. and I'm cursing your name...❞

“This paranoia between you and Klaus is getting out of hand.” You mention to him one night as he turned your room upside down looking for something he would not inform you about. “You better put all of that back because I will not.” You say with a shake of your head, frustrated.

“He has the dagger. I have nothing to protect myself with.”

“So run away again. It's what you do best.” You let out. Only realising what you had done after it slips past your lips. The room is quiet, the silence deafening to the point where you flinch at the sound of creaking wood.

It wasn't the bed. It wasn't the wardrobe. When you glimpse at the door, hesitantly, it has been left ajar.

He did what you asked.

You remember inhaling deeply before throwing a jacket over your shoulder and grabbing the book of the week to read at Jackson Square, viewing the passerby's that would enter and exit St. Louis Cathedral.

“You'd come here and sit on that bench right over there with a new book every week.”

Your chest latches onto unwanted nostalgia you should desperately trying to get rid of. It makes your arms go numb and a cold shiver run down your spine. You blink at him. You knew?

“What?” You grunt, slightly disoriented.

Kol seems lost in his head, much like you were a few seconds ago, but he has a bigger grasp on reality than you do. “I thought it was more of something out of spite that you did. Sit in front of a church. Watch people leave. Choose a prey and feed on them to make them somehow question their faith.”

Furrowing your brows in thought, you consider out loud, “You thought that I'd come here to prove a point?”

He shrugs. The repetitive kicking of rocks tells you he is more nervous than he's letting on. Kol could mask his feelings well, his first choice of emotion would be anger and he'd just about use it to everything and everyone.

Over the years you'd notice some tells beneath all that rage. There was resentment and there was sadness. And now you can see guilt. You wonder if you're simply imagining something you want to see instead of what's actually there.

“What are you doing here, Kol?”

You're tired. You're beginning to think that Stefan was right and you should have evaluated the pros and cons of being in this fucking city before choosing the first flight five minutes after Rebekah's text.

“I missed you.”

“No.” You ignore the way you want to run away at what feels like sincerity coming out of his mouth. “What are you really doing here?”

His lips twitch and you think that familiar smirk will appear, but it doesn't. Just a sad smile.

“I missed you.” He repeats firmly as if not to let it hang in the air enough for confusion. There is no dubious meaning. He is not playing a game. “I haven't had a chance to say that when you were here.”

You take your time surveying his features. He had cut his hair, but you noticed that when he was playing with Hope in the backyard. His style is still the same, the moles still in the same spots around his cheeks and neck, his cupid's bow hasn't changed either. Kol's physique barely suffered any alterations, but he is different. Suddenly, you remember Hayley and the new spark in her eyes.

They both mirror people who have let go of their demons. The ones who scratch your skin and sink into your shoulders claiming your body as well as your mind as theirs. It is impossible to escape all of them at once, but time makes it bearable to live with some as you learn to let go of others.

“What do you mean?” You sit at edge of a bench. Not the one you used to sit almost every week. That would be too much. He understands the space left is for him to occupy after a moment. “That you haven't had the chance to say it when I was here. Why would you miss me while I was here?”

You know exactly why. You felt that all the time with him. Most of the time you dated a shadow in place of the man you loved and it is sad that, at some point, you got used to it.

“Because I wasn't. I wasn't here when I should have been and you were gone before I could help it.” A wave of regret travels across his features and you turn away before your gazes can meet. “And yes, I have no right of saying that after—after—”

“Ten years?”

“... ten years.” You complete at the same time. “I lost your trust. I lost you. Which is something that I'll never forgive myself for. I just... I just need you to know—”

“Don't.”

He furrowed his eyebrows as you stood up, running a hand through your face in pure... frustration? Anger? Fear? Yes. Fear. He is being unpredictable. Kol Mikaelson is unpredictable, it's one of the many traits of his you spend a long time admiring, until it became a burden in your relationship.

But after ten years you had no idea how to deal with this and you don't want to deal with it. Not now. Not after you and him were over.

He says your name almost pleadingly.

“Kol, don't.” You cut him off. “You can't do this now. You just can't.” You flinch away when he tries to touch you as a form of comfort. You didn't want that comfort. Not from him. Not anymore.

His eyes soften and there's hurt in them but you can't do this now. It's not fair. “I'm not trying to do anything.”

“Yes, you are!” You croak out, slightly shaken up. “Whatever you have to say doesn't make a difference now.”

You see his jaw clench slightly. Good. You want him to be angry. At least this side of him you can handle because you'll attack just as hard.

“I'm sorry.”

Your eyes snap to him. “I'm sorry.” Kol repeats, walking towards you with much more certainty. “I was a coward, immature and just overall selfish. I shouldn't have left, but I did and that doesn't change the past, but, but I loved you. I truly did. If I could go back—”

“You can't.” Your lower lip curl between your teeth. You can't take anything back. You can't undo the past. “You can't make it better, Kol.” You say, attempting to hold your self together in front of the boy who broke your heart into pieces. You still haven't found all of them yet, they were scattered, some beyond repair. “I was a mess without you. Do you know how long it took for me to pick myself back up?”

“You shouldn't have left.” You harshly clean a tear that travels down your cheek. “If you hadn't, if you had given me a chance to, to be there for you, then, yes, it would all be different. Trust me. It would. But because of what you did, it's not.” Admitting that to yourself took too long and it was the hardest thing you had to do, but admitting that to him? No. It felt freeing. It felt liberating. It felt fair.

There was a point in which all you could think about was making him suffer the way you did. Because he deserved it. How can someone claim to love you so deeply and then vanish from your life?

However, it isn't really the anger that prevails as he stands in front of you at Jackson Square, trying to apologize for years of pain that he had caused. As soon as you spill your heart out, the only thing left is sadness and nostalgia. You miss the screaming and fighting. You miss his stupid obsession with magic. You miss his sincerity, because till this day, no one would throw the truth in your face like Kol did. You miss the excitement. You miss his insanity. You miss him.

Loving Kol Mikaelson had not been easy. Still, you wouldn't go back on your choice if you had the chance. Because loving him had been a choice, one you've made for nearly five decades. And letting him go had driven you to the edge and brought you back to life.

Yes, you miss him. But it's not strange the fact that, deep down, you'll always miss someone you fell in love with. Even if they didn't carried your heart as carefully as you deserved. They were still part of you. Maybe, they always would be.

“I know.” He says, voice rough. You'd barely hear him if you didn't have enhanced hearing. “I regret it every single day of my life.” His eyes follow as you lean back in the bench. You're sitting in opposite ones. He stares at you as if you're a wounded animal, afraid to approach. His red-rimmed eyes make your heart clench.

You think about how funny it is that your body can react the same to a person. As if they're permanently marked into your soul.

Kol had never said what you wanted to hear. The truth was the only thing that escaped from his lips, even if it would absolutely crush you.

He was real and he pulled you back from the edge many times before. Even if he had been the one pushing you over that same edge afterwards.

This truth is crushing you. But it is a pain you must feel in order to fully move on.

You exhale slowly. “I know you do.” You can see the clear regret in his eyes. It's sipping through his soul and it may have eaten some part of him during these years. You don't feel okay with that. Strangely as that may be, you don't wish his suffering.

“Do you?” He lets out faintly, uncertain. “I'm not— I am not saying any of that with cruel intentions. I never meant to hurt you. I love you, but,”

“... but it wasn't enough to make you stay.” You swallowed with difficulty.

“No.” You glance up at him, something in your chest shatters. You don't know if his honesty is something you crave now. “I miss you. I never stopped missing you, no matter how hard I tried. And I, I don't know how to change that.”

“You can't.” You say, feeling like you can breathe properly after such a long time. “Because I miss you too, Kol.” and I love you. Not the same way, but I do. “It's not something we can change, it's just there. Maybe time will somehow make it better.”

“Really?” The hope in his voice grips you tight. That desperation to move on. To forget. You relate to that so much. “Is that what you think? Sounds too human to come from you.”

You let out a scoff, throwing your head back. “What does that even mean, Mikaelson?”

His deep chuckle brings a small smile out of you.

“Time is necessary for everyone.” You watch him quietly. He has the same tell from before; when his head is full, he plays with the ring in his index finger. Whenever he did that, you'd curl your fingers around his shoulder and squeeze it, he'd relax under your touch.

You would miss that. But you can live without it. You can live without him just as he can live without you. You know it's for the better.

It's almost four in the morning when you arrive back in the hotel. The first thing you do is take a shower, then throw yourself in bed pretending it is the one in your bedroom at your home. Soft and with your favorite pillows. Not the real scratchy and thin bedding you currently have.

It doesn't work, so you dial the familiar number in your phone to actually hear home from the line.

“I'm sorry to be dumping this on you.”

“You're dumping nothing on me.“ Stefan retorts and you can clearly see him shaking his head. “Hey, you handled Ripper-me, if I can't handle you talking about your ex then what does that say about me?“

You stare at the ceiling, “Ripper-you wasn't that terrifying.“ You mock him, earning a snicker that makes your entire being warm.

“I'm certain some people would disagree a little bit.”

“Eh,” You shrug, kicking the comfort off of your legs. “Nothing I can't handle, baby.”

When his chuckles dies down, his tone comes back slightly serious and you pick up on the tinge of concern in it. Same as the day before.

You've unleashed your still-fresh wounds to Stefan a few minutes back. There's no one else you wanted to talk to after everything that's happened. You needed safety, you needed someone to ground you, to stop you from spiraling out of control. Stefan always does that.

He doesn't question too much nor does he judge the situation. He must have expected something like that would end up happening. Part of you wishes he would yell at you, telling you that he had been right and you should have listened to him from the start. Instead, he just listens.

Stefan understands that just as it's Kol, for you. It's Elena, for him. And there's nothing none of you can do about it.

“You can always come to me for anything,” he breaks the silence. “I'm here, I'm not going anywhere.”

Inhaling sharply, fiddling with your engagement ring, you ask, “Why?”

Why aren't you running away? Why do you want to deal with me for the rest of your life?

“Because I love you. And I'm not only here for the good times but also the bad times. I'm here for the ugly truth and I'll still be here for the worst part.” Your breathing is labored at this point. You refrain from telling him you don't deserve it. You don't deserve that he stays. You don't deserve that he's still here after everything. But it's his choice and he's choosing to love you with your baggage.

“For better and for worse. In sickness and in health, right?”

The snort that escapes you is nothing but awful. “You're an idiot.“ You shake your head, pressing the phone closer to your ear as if that would make him closer to you.

You can practically see his smirk through the phone. “But I'm your idiot.” He seems to ponder over your silence. “Ugh, that was cheesy, wasn't it?”

“Yes,” you confirm, biting your lip to avoid a stupid grin. “don't do that ever again.” You order, knowing he will most certainly do it more than ten times. Because that is how Stefan is like. He tells you bad jokes in bad moments to make you feel better, he keeps you company through a phone call for how long you need comfort for and he's the one that makes you feel perfectly fine at the end of the day.

“Please don't break-up with me, we're almost getting married.”

“I'll consider this plea.”

The conversation ends up reaching something lighter when he asks about Hope and Hayley. You tell him about Hope and how bright she is, you detail the tiny differences of New Orleans from before and now and you confess you miss him. Because you do.

In the end, this trip was good. It unfolded a part of your story that had been buried down in a drawer for a long time. You needed closure and you had it tonight. It's bittersweet and it's nostalgic and it's sad but it is necessary.

Which is why you no longer have doubts about your future. Everything seems perfectly clear now that you've confronted your past, the monsters do not look so big anymore.

“I love you,” he says. The line had gone silent for a while as both of you seem to be thinking over to yourselves.

His hoarse voice and clipped tone tells you that he's as affected by this trip as you are. You want to comfort him, saying that there's nothing you need to worry about, I'll come back, I'll always return to you. But none of that will get through his brain until your face to face, finally in each other's arms.

And something that you've come to see through a new perspective is that love isn't tiring, it isn't heavy nor it is draining. Love is strength, calmness and security. Love can be fire, kissing in the rain and a rollercoaster of emotions. But it's not bad and it's not rotten. It can, however, sometimes be doubtful. It can raise questions that can make you halt on your way to say yes, but that's okay. Because even though you're certain, you're allowed to not have all the answers and you're allowed to not be alone to search for them.

“I love you, too,” you breathe out, shutting your eyes to imagine you were close to him, in your safe place.

“It's so good to know that you're smiling right now.”

You let out a scoff, shaking your head but your mouth is quirking up in the sides. “Seriously, you've gotta stop doing that, Stef. Am I feeding your ego?” You don't wait for a response. “Don't answer that, I know I am.”

“Come home.”

Because no matter how much you occasionally missed your past, your present and future are greater than anything else you could have possibly desired.

❝ and that's the way I loved you...❞

“I will.”

You couldn't have asked for anything better.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

[alternate ending]

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