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everythingmp3 · 2 days ago

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changing her ways

adult!Van x fem!reader

when Van invites you over to her place, all she expects is just another meaningless hookup - what happens instead is that she ends up breaking her rule of never letting lovers stay over, never being romantic, never being tender, and the next morning, she doesn´t seem to regret it. not one bit.

authors note: felt like writing some more for her and used the idea of spending the morning with her after a hook-up to explore what it might look like if she met someone she actually liked during her era of "getting her needs met". hope you enjoy <3 (around 6k words)

warnings: some smut, both receiving

it had always sounded a bit cliché to you, sentiments like "love will come to you when you’re least looking for it", but there was a truth at its core, one that applied to how you and Van first crossed paths as lovers.

later on, you would come to look back and feel eternally grateful for the boredom you had felt that Friday night when you and her first met, because the only reason you ended up swiping through dating apps was that you had little else to do.

you weren’t really looking to meet up with anyone, it was more of a game to you, but then, out of nowhere, you were struck by the profile of an older woman. for a moment you hesitated but she was too painfully your type to let the chance pass you by, so you forced yourself to get over your nerves and start a chat with her. to your surprise, it only took her about ten minutes to respond, which you tried to take as a good sign, as encouragement to actually try to get somewhere with her.

Van was a dry texter, not one for chit-chat, so after a few brief words, she cut to the chase and asked you "would you maybe wanna come over for a drink?".

you werent naive, you knew that it was just a more polite way of saying "listen, I am just looking to hook up" but you didn’t mind, in fact, something about her being so forward and shameless about her interest thrilled you, it had its appeal after one too many times of wondering whether a woman was actually flirting or just being friendly - it also helped that she was older, a certain thrill to the feeling of being told "come over here" by someone who naturally held a bit of authority, simply due to your age difference. there was a faint smile of anticipation on your face the whole way over to her place, the sun disappearing behind the horizon as you entered her dark store and climbed the stairs up to her apartment.

the moment Van greeted you, not with a hug but an appreciative long glance over your figure as she stood by the counter and prepared a drink for you, it hit you: she was even hotter than expected. shockingly so. her voice immediately struck you at your core, the way she said "please, come in, sit", low and husky, an almost primal quality to the way your body reacted to her, the total conviction when you thought to yourself "I have to have her".

you tried not to stare too obviously as you waited for her on the couch but in person she was naturally much more striking than in the few photos you´d seen of her; her was outfit simple, a pair of well-fitted jeans and a white shirt, but something about the way the fabric hugged her curves made you feel warm all over when she came closer and joined you on the couch and handed you your glass. her hair fell down her shoulders in soft, thick waves and your fingers already ached with the desire to feel it, your heartbeat quicker when she finally looked at you face-on and seemed to like what she saw, undeniably so.

usually, the drink was only a polite gesture she offered people to make the transition from being strangers into having sex more smooth, with most of her lovers she had made it clear that a few minutes of talking were more than enough for her, she was not the type to dance around why she had invited someone over, but with you it was different.

Van found herself actually enjoying your company, the time passed quickly as you sat there and got to know each other a bit, there was a natural chemistry, a spark, both of you genuinely laughing here and there, getting invested in what the other person was saying, urging each other to go on, to share a bit more. the thing that caught her off-guard was that you were different than the other younger women she´d been with before.

Van tended to go for people who were of a different generation because she liked the control it gave her, the predictability of it, she was used to girls being easily flustered by her, being nervous and not really pushing back, letting her take the lead, but from the first minute you started talking, she realized: oh. this is new. she is not intimidated by me. the moment you told her "most of those tapes down there are older than me, you know", almost as if you were judging her, messing with her a bit, she thought "okay. this could be very fun" and let go of her initial fear of being with an equal.

you fell into a nice rhythm of conversation, so eventually she got you a second drink and completely forgot about her rule of keeping the people she slept with at arms length, anonymous, never asking for more details about their personal life than their first name and age. thirty minutes passed before you both remembered why you´d met up in the first place, which suddenly made you go quiet with anticipation, eyeing each other from up close and almost holding your breaths as you felt just how charged the air had become, how quickly you had managed to sink into a deep attraction to each other, a shared feeling of "I need her. badly.".

it was the first time in ages that Van felt butterflies before leaning into kiss someone, but she did, as she put her hand on your face and felt you meet her halfway to kiss her, deeply, her whole body burning with a fire that she´d long thought extinguished, but there it was, her whole face and chest flush pink from it as she held your face in both of her hands while kissing you, almost as if she was afraid you´d leave, pull back, change your mind, but you were just as eager, if not more, pressing yourself up against her and caressing her hair as you moved on the couch to be half on her lap, closer, as close as possible, her hands wandering down to your thighs to support you, her grip almost bruising in its urgency.

Van had gone a long time without indulging in that kind of sensuality, she hardly ever kissed people for longer than necessary during sex or leading up to it, but right then she remembered how much she had missed it, craved it, her hands all over you as you made out and sighed between kisses, her fingers briefly tilting your head up to allow her better access to your neck as her grip on you tightened - she seemingly wanted to devour you, which killed your ability to remain quiet or composed in any way, as you felt her thigh pressing up between your legs and let out a sound that broke down her last bit of restraint, the second she heard you moan like that for her, she pulled you up to lead you to her bedroom.

once you were both on her bed, after a frantic attempt to get undressed as fast as possible, you got lost in a neediness and desperation for each other that almost scared you, both of you shaking from how turned on you were, wet to a degree that almost hurt as you kissed and moved against each other, her eventually holding your arms down by your sides as you felt her lips and tongue, her teeth, all over your chest and stomach, over your underwear, teasing you, savoring the mess you´d made, before she went down on you like she was close to starving, which she was, after only ever allowing herself rushed and impersonal sex for too long, the kind of sex that was only focused on getting off and nothing more, you could feel it in the way she held your thighs apart and moaned from your taste, that she had not felt arousal like that in ages, and you willingly surrendered, letting her take her time with pleasing you, making you come undone, before you eagerly returned the energy, which turned into a long night of both of you taking turns again and again with helping the other person feel as good as possible, you and her both taking a deep pleasure in the way you managed to both worship and wreck each other, to be in a place of joint helplessness against the wave of desire that had swept you up out of nowhere, that left you raw and open in the most delicious way, sensitive to the smallest touch, the lightest kisses and licks, every little thing you did to each other.

in the middle of it, as Van was melting into you, against your mouth, as she felt another orgasm spreading through her already weak limbs, she thought "this is too intense, stop this, tell her to stop and leave" but she couldn´t bring herself to, you had done the thing she´d considered impossible for a stranger to mange: you´d broken down her walls. you´d made her surrender. you´d gotten under her skin, and as much as she wanted to hate it and tell herself to push you away, all she could think when she saw you look up at her with your chin and lips glistening, a tired but pleased smile on your face, was: this is what I´ve been missing.

the thing that drove you insane that night was that she was sensitive in a way you had no expected at all, you could tell that she was getting something she hadn´t in while from the way she moaned, almost in a pained manner, assuring you that she was fine when you paused to give her a moment to breathe, kissed her face and allowed her to take a second before you continued, her hands on the small of your back to ground herself as she sighed "don´t stop when I seem overwhelmed, just keep going, I want you to, okay?", which you didn´t have to be told twice, leaving both of you ruined by the end of the night before you fell asleep satisfied, tired, tangled up in the crumpled sheets, the pillows in the wrong place, and yet, a deep sense of comfort wrapped around you, Van half-conscious still as she wrapped her arms around you and forgot about her rule of sending people home, never sharing her bed. it felt right, healing in a way, to feel her lovers soft breath as she drifted off, her face close enough to you to be lulled to sleep by the scent of your skin, that she´d quickly become addicted to, a light kiss to your shoulder before sleep took her as well.

the next morning, she woke up earlier than you, so after a while of laying there, Van sat up and rested against the headboard and smiled to herself when you moved to rest on top of her. you were still half-asleep as you laid your head on her chest and savored the feeling of being heavy and limp on top of her, her body still warm from sleep, a feeling of utter ease even though you were in a strangers bed.

if anyone had told Van the evening before how she would start the next day, she would have cringed at the idea of allowing that level of intimacy, but the way you were laying there evoked a foreign mix of both affection and protectiveness in her, as she watched you and ran her palm up and down your back, slowly, eventually caressing your hair, which got a purring sound out of you that made her laugh quietly and ask "comfortable there?", a nod from you and a half-mumbled "yeah.. very.." in response as you kept your eyes closed and felt soothed by the feeling of idle, soft touches.

Van´s body felt both soft and firm under you, a strength to her arms as she held you up that contrasted the tenderness she was offering you, so it took you a while before you managed to pull yourself away and fully wake up. it hit you then that she had been sitting up for a while already, so you propped yourself up on your elbows, looked up at her and asked "wait, how long have you been awake?".

Van shrugged and said "hm, like an hour maybe?".

"what? you´ve been waiting for me to wake up for an hour??", you felt a little guilty then but she smiled and cocked her head "well, it´s not like this is torture exactly, having a pretty girl laying on me." you were charmed and gave her a little nudge before you rubbed your eyes and stretched your limbs, as Van kept looking at you and reached out caress your sides, "youre a sweet sleeper you know" she mused.

"how so?" you asked, curious then. "I was half awake when you snuggled up to lay your head here" she pointed at the crook of her neck, "kinda like kitten" she added, to tease you a bit, which made you flush and shrug to brush it off, but she went on, a bit more earnest then, "I´m not used to that.. it felt nice". from her that counted as high praise, you could tell from the way she seemed kinda shy about having said it, so you leaned in closer and grinned, "oh really? you usually kick people out after?".

you were half joking but a look of guilt settle on Van´s face, you could basically see her cringe at some of the memories that your question had brought up, so you laughed and said "oh wow", kind of amused by the idea of her being the type to tell hook-ups to leave in the middle of the night. you moved to put your hands on her shoulders and look at her more closely, stunned by her face in the daylight, her freckles that you had only vaguely been aware of the night before, briefly too enamored to speak before you asked "so, are you regretting it now, that you broke that habit and let me stay?".

Van shook her head and gave you a sheepish smile, "oh no, no quite the opposite actually" while pulling you closer, her arms tight around your back as she kissed your neck and breathed in, started feeling you up a bit, turned on by the sweet, slightly disheveled look of you, the clear difference in your ages admittedly a turn-on for her, a rush of possessiveness as she felt you submit to her touch and thought "yeah she´s mine" even though you definitely weren´t, a content "hmmm" sound from you as you ran your fingers through her hair and let her have her way.

after she pulled back, she stared into your eyes, seemingly searching for something in your expression, and smiled as she asked "I have no idea why the fuck you agree to come here last night. are you sure you´re not having some kind of crisis and I am just taking advantage of it?". the way she phrased that made you laugh before you responded "oh sure, because there no way I could have found you hot otherwise", your eyes sparkling with amusement as she nodded, "yeah, thought so", a subtle smirk that gave away that she was having flashbacks of just how into her you´d been, the things you´d done for her, with her, to her, during the night, so you used the moment of warm silence to briefly snuggle up to her again and rest your head on her shoulder.

after a moment Van nudged you and said "you´re gonna fall asleep again, huh" not displeased by your unconcealed affection, but you protested "no, no I´m good" and sat upright then. "you hungry?" Van asked as she pulled the blanket off and moved to get up "yeah, pretty hungry actually" you admitted while getting out on the other side of the bed, "good, I´ll make you something nice, come, take whatever clothes you want" she told you as she pulled on a shirt and boxer shorts, while gesturing over at her closet, so you quickly opted for a soft oversized t-shirt and some thin cotton shorts, which made her glance over at you with a mix of endearment and lust, the unfamiliar sight of someone in her clothes stirring something deep within her, yet another aspect of romance that shed missed more than she cared to admit.

once you were in her living space again, you instinctively took a seat by the counter as she started rummaging around in the kitchen and told you to sit back and let her do the work, to be her guest, briefly checking for your preferences, how you took your coffee, if you were in the mood for something savory or sweet, if you needed some water or juice or both, taking pleasure in the unfamiliar act of serving her lover something to eat.

as she moved around the kitchen, you sat with your head leaning on your hand, watching her, which she would have shut down with a "you´re staring." if it had been anyone else, but with you, in that moment, the attention was invited, you could tell from the way she carried out certain movements that she was aware of you gaze and enjoying it, playing into it a bit, a silent erotic communication between you. "are you hungover at all?" she asked you, as she put some finishing touches on the two plates she was assorting for you, so you had to suppress a laugh as you eyed her and answered "hungover? from two drinks?...".

Van shot you a glare and waved you off, "forget it. enjoy this while it lasts, its not gonna be so funny when youre my age" flipping her hair over her shoulder before turning around and getting something else from the fridge. "I can only hope to look as good as you then" you told her in a purposely overly sweet tone, batting your eyelashes at her when she turned back around and gave you another critical look, trying her best not to appear flustered, the flush on her cheeks betraying her, "easy there." she warned you, without any true heat behind the words. "you´re trouble, huh" she said, more to herself than you, as she poured the coffee and saw how pleased with yourself you looked, sitting there, taking in the view of her growing a little hot from your unwavering attention, "me?" you asked, feigning innocence, to which she only said "yeah, you miss", smiling, both amused and a little frustrated how easy it was for you to get a rise out of her, after years of her considering herself stone-cold.

after she slid the finished plates over to where you were already sitting, she walked around to join you but stopped as she stood right behind you she paused, and without thinking she followed the instinct she felt then and slid her arms around your waist from behind, rested her head on your shoulder, shut her eyes for a second. you rested your hands over hers and soaked up the unexpected sudden tenderness, the way she audibly breathed out, almost as if some ancient weight was falling off from her shoulders, which perhaps was close to the truth, something about her touch tinged with a mix of gratitude and disbelief, as if she was making sure she hadn´t just dreamed you up.

after a few seconds of allowing herself to fully drop her walls, she pulled herself away and seemed a little shy afterwards as she took her place next to you and joined you in taking a first few bites, you just smiling to yourself instead of commenting on it.

for a few minutes you ate in relative silence, both of you only then realizing how starved the hours of fucking had left you, the morning sun casting the room in a soothing hue of gold, her hair even prettier then than the night before, glowing almost. you paused your eating to look at her from the side as she wiped a few crumbs from her mouth, absentmindedly pushed her hair back, seemed a little zoned out, which gave you the chance to shamelessly stare for a while, your gaze roaming over her, settling on her mid-thighs, where her plaid boxers had moved up a bit, revealing a decent amount of her leg, the faint freckles, which reminded you of how soft her skin had felt against yours, how sexy it was to you, that she had a certain delicate quality, something girl-ish almost in certain lights, fragile even, that opposed her tough vibe, her deep voice, her aura of "don´t mess with me".

you couldn´t help but reach out to caress her thigh, while saying "you look hot like this" tracing a line down her skin, which made her turn to you and say "likewise" in a low tone, as she gave you an equally appraising look and placed her hand over yours and kept it pressed against her leg for a beat longer, a shared pang of need detectable in both of your expressions then, an electricty as you looked eyes and saw your want mirror back to yourself. you both seemed to be getting flashbacks right then as you cleared your throat and removed your hand, trying to act casual, eating a bit more, while you were both left with tingling sensations all over your body where you´d felt the other´s hands and lips the night before, the sounds and taste of it coming back to you as well, the sensations that had banished all thoughts from your mind except one word, repeating, "more, more, more".

"we were pretty eager, huh..." Van said in a barely audible tone, which made you smile and say "yeah..", remembering how you had both moaned desperately just from kissing, how you´d already come close to finishing just from grinding up against each other before actually having sex, the neediness, the way you´d abandoned all pretense and let the other one see you in a state that could be considered undignified, considering the way you´d both begged each other to be taken, devoured. it had been unexpectedly intimate for a first time, it was palpable in the way you glanced at each other then and felt almost a little smug about how well you had fit together, physically, how hot the memories were to you.

you were both quietly getting turned on again, but you managed to keep it subtle for the time being, so you gestured at the empty plates and asked "so, if you dont let people stay usually, I´m assuming this is also not a common occurence?". Van nodded and leaned in a bit as she said "yes, correct, you cheated your way into this position, played some dirty tricks on me" a tap to your forearm, a hint of amusement to her demeanor when she saw the flicker of pride in your eyes, since you did love the idea of being an exception, having her in a way few others did, or even better, nobody else.

you could tell she was thinking of something then, so you nudged her and asked "what?" genuinely curious. "oh it´s just, it´s been a while since it felt the way it did last night..." she said, a little more earnest then, so your curiosity was peaked and you turned to face her more directly, your knee briefly brushing hers, another rush of warmth that you both felt at the same time. "how so?" you asked. she drummed her fingers on the counter and thought for a second before explaining "this might sound a bit corny but I usually feel like people aren´t really seeing me, like they see a role I could play for them, if that makes sense? and sometimes that can be fun or whatever, playing the part, I am fine with that, I sought it out, but with you... I don´t know. you paid attention in a way that felt kinda intense, like you were actually trying to understand me.. you were sweet, hard to describe, but I missed that, feeling like I might like to be friends with the person I am seeing"

you understood what she meant and it flattered you, the way she´d put that, so you made as sound of agreement and said "yeah, it felt natural, easy", "exactly yes" Van affirmed, looking up at you again then, a warm smile before she added "and you know, it also helped that youre fucking hot." she briefly caressed your cheek when she saw the subtle bashfulness she´d elicited with that comment, it came out of nowhere and left her feeling exposed in her affection for you, but the way you leaned into her palm killed any instinct to reel it back in. you returned the energy by leaning over and giving her a lingering kiss, your hand on her neck, remaining only a few inches from her face when you told her "I wouldn´t have been able to tell that youre not used to all this if you hadn´t told me" which you meant, she was far from unromantic and detached with you, which didn´t match her own description of herself, the way she usually went about intimacy, so she grinned and ran her hands down your back as she whispered "well, I had some practice earlier in life".

you nodded and took in her features from up close, her pink lips, her freckled nose, the deep blue of her eyes and said "right. broke some hearts, didn´t you?", which made her laugh and shrug "maybe. got mine shattered too though, so, balances out" you could detect a truth in there, which made you wonder what exactly that heartbreak had entailed, how her life had looked, a sudden need to know much more about this woman you´d so randomly come to feel deeply connected to just within a night. "god that just made me sound old as fuck huh" she sighed and shook her head while taking the dirty dishes over the sink, which made you laugh and play along with it by saying "maybe".

since breakfast was over, you were both eager to be more comfortable again and moved to the couch, where she urged you to lay your legs over her lap, instead of sitting there all polite with them crossed, her hands immediately settling on your knees, rubbing up and down a little. Van was stunned by how easy it was for her to slip back into the physicality she had had with girlfriends, people she´d actually cared for, she realized how good it felt to just lounge around with a lover, that it came naturally to her, that her fears of it had been unjustified, it was a hard truth to accept for her but as you got comfortable with your legs sprawled out over her, she couldn´t deny that in her heart, she´d been longing for it, a girl to call her own again.

"so. are you counting down the minutes until you can leave?" she joked, which amused you, considering just how obviously you were enjoying yourself in that position, so you joked back and said "oh sure, I am clearly dying to run off". "but on a real note, do you want a ride home when you go? Id be happy to drive you home", she asked, and you appreciated the offer but the feel of her hands on you made it hard to accept it, you wanted nothing less than to leave but you also didnt wanna impose, so you tentatively said "well... I mean I don´t really need to be anywhere today, so.." hoping she´d catch on to the subtext there, which she did, charmed by your hesitation, the nervousness that contrasted the boldness you´d already shown her, a mix that she liked, kept her intrigued. "ah, I see, do you maybe wanna stay for a bit longer then?" she suggested, before she could talk herself into sabbotaging this fresh, strangely enjoyable romance shed stumbled into without even realizing at first the night before.

"yes" you said, a bit too fast, eager to accept the offer, sensing that she was also glad to have a bit more time with you, so you pushed your luck a bit and added "I mean, not to be clingy but if you want I could get some of my stuff later and stay another night? I liked sleeping with you.." you meant the actual act of sleeping, but the double meaning was also true, so you didn´t correct yourself when you realized how that had come out. Van smiled and nodded, her hands still on your legs, squeezing lightly, "yeah, me too. and you could also just use my things and not leave at all".

you shared a look of fondness as you both realized that you weren´t alone in your need to stay together for the time being, "yeah, let´s do it that way" you agreed. "but be warned" Van said, lowering her voice for dramatic effect, "you might get really fucking tired of me in like two hours. I am sure you´re used to company that´s more.. well, like you". you leaned in a bit, "like me?", Van pulled you even closer then, grabbed your arm and grinned and as she finished her thought "oh you know, young, fun, dazzling" clearly messing with you, laying it on thick, but a genuine compliment hidden in there, which made you lean closer too and brush a strand of hair out of her face as you smiled, "I´ll manage, and who knows, maybe some of it will rub off on you" teasing her a little, running your hand down her side, leaving it to rest on her waist.

"god willing" she whispered and used her strength to pull you up against her for good, sighing "come here" as she felt you adjust your position and climb half on top of her, your thighs pressing down against hers. it took her only a second to pull you in for a proper kiss, the kind you hadn´t shared yet that morning, a shared sigh as you started making out, slowly, drawing each kiss out, her hands under your shirt, yours on her neck, her taste both sweet and still lightly bitter from the coffee, faint whimpering sounds from her when you grew hungry and licked over her bottom lip, felt for her tongue with yours, felt her surrender to it, her mouth open, a sloppiness to your kisses that made it hard not to wanna do more, so once you felt yourselves growing a bit too hot too fast, you pulled back to breathe, to ground yourselves, hands still gripping each other´s shirts tightly.

you smiled at her, pleased by the sight of her flushed face, her glistening lips, and said "you´re kinda selfish you know". Van was still dazed from before but snapped out of it to respond "huh??", the offense in her tone making you laugh as you played with her hair, "all of this, so much space up here and you never let lovers stay".

"well, I am not great company usually, so, did them a favor" she uttered, her fingers tracing patterns on your back. "so, you work alone downstairs all day and then spend the nights up here alone too?", "yeah pretty much..." she admitted, aware that she lived a kind of hermit lifestyle. "how have you not lost your mind?" you asked, half-joking, which made her grin, a flicker of mischief, "who says I haven´t?" staring into your eyes as she said it.

"right, sure" you said, amused by her quick wit, acutely aware of the heat where your skin was still pressing down against hers, a subtle heat growing where only some very thin fabric was keeping you from feeling her the way you wanted to, a light shit of your position that didn´t escape her, that made her push her thigh up a bit to fuck with you, to hear the sigh you inevitably let out. "yeah don´t say I didn´t warn you later on" she whispered. "warn me? I think I can handle a middle aged loner" you retorted and pushed your hands into her hair, not very gently, payback, aware that it made her weak to be handled like that. "you don´t know the half of it, lady" she said while smiling up at you, not backing down, so you moved one of your hands to her face, tracing her scars with your index finger while asking "oh yeah? something to do with this maybe?".

"maybe" Van echoed, smug, watching you briefly get lost in the act of closely inspecting the red lines that graced her pretty face, pleased by the way she could see the wheels turn behind your eyes. in a way that was perhaps a bit twisted, it did turn her on, to know that you had no idea that she had once been feral, that she had hunted and eaten people before, that she had a capacity for animalistic behavior that surpassed what you were assuming right then, mostly because something told her that you might be the kind of girl who wouldn´t just be shocked but also a little into it, the idea of her being capable of things like that, she´d just known you for a night, but she was nearly certain that the reaction she could get out of you would be priceless.

"tell me then, what dark secret are you keeping?" you asked her, your nose almost brushing hers from how close you were, her breath hot against your lips as she shook her head "lets maybe go on a date first before I spill that to you, hm". "this isn´t a date?" you asked, feigning ignorance, pretending to be a little disappointed, so she laughed "no, this is what you´d call a hookup, sorry to say sweetie" a faux act of consolation then, a few light slaps to your upper thigh. "but" she added "we can turn it into a date". you moved a bit then, to sit next to her again instead of on her, your hand reaching for hers, unwilling to let go of her. "when´s the last time you´ve been on one? do you remember how to behave?" you teased, which earned you a shove in the side "very funny, yes I do recall".

"okay, what do you wanna do today then, hm?" you asked, elbow propped up on the couch to look at her while resting your head against your arm. "oh lets see" she said, while tilting her head back for a second, looking at the ceiling as she felt her fingers laced through yours and thought about it. "we could enjoy the sun, walk around for a bit, go to this nice cafe I know for lunch, its really fucking good" you nodded, more than happy to spend your day like that, but before you could say anything about it, she beat you to it by moving closer to you, snaking her arm around your waist, and saying "but before all that... I think we should go back to bed for a while" an authority, a determination to he tone then that made your face feel hot under her unyielding gaze. "yeah, agree..." you said and pushed her back against the couch cushion to grope her, out of nowhere, a self-satisfied grin when you heard her groan "fuck" from the feel of your fingers digging into her chest over her shirt, "you´re so sensitive" you teased, not letting up, kissing her cheek as she grew needier by the second, "yeah and you´re relentless" she uttered, briefly submitting to your force before she used the position she was in to move her hand down your shorts, only to tease, but the second she brushed over you, the whine you let out told her: keep going. she wants more.

so she held you close as she used the other hand to tease you, not fully jerking you off, but playing with you, moving her fingertips up and down, feeling some of the wetness that had gathered, using it to press down against your clit and draw achingly slow circles as you clung to her, eyes shut, hips jerking a bit to meet her hand, nodding, your lips parted as you sighed "please dont stop..". Van took the chance to kiss your neck, to have you fully melt against her, her fingers adding some more pressure as you grew soaked for her and tilted your head to the side to let her kiss all the way up to your jaw, faint sighs as she breathed in your scent, got high on the feeling of having you that pliant and soft for her, so receptive, whispering sweet things to you as it took you no time at all to feel a climax go through you, less intense than the ones you´d had the night before, but still, enough to leave you weak and wanting more, much more. her fingers were still on you, drawing out some last few jolts of pleasure, as you leaned in to her ear and sighed "I wanna feel you... I wanna feel you come against me..".

"jesus..." Van groaned at the thought, since that was another thing that she´d stopped allowing herself, anything like tribbing was off the table with hookups, since she knew how much she enjoyed it when she was really into someone, how sensitive to that sensation she was, how easily it could turn her into a whimpering mess, but she couldn´t deny you, not then, not while still feeling your mess all over her fingers and already growing wet herself from the thought of having your cunt pressed up against hers, for a torturous amount of time, she wanted it to hurt, to be too much almost, so she nodded, her voice cracked with lust as she said "yeah.. yeah okay, come", pulling you up from the couch to have fantasy become reality as fast as possible.

you both quickly undressed and settled back into her bed, her sitting back against the pillows as you tried to find the best angle and moved her leg up to put yours under it, adjusting your hips until you both moaned in agreement when you found the right spot. you were both turned on enough to a point where you didn´t need spit or lube to make yourselves slick enough, your arousals mixing as you started grinding down against her and saw her shut her eyes, trying her best not to sound pathetic, while already feeling like she might lose her mind just from watching you move against her like that, hearing you whimper from it, since it felt even better than expected, an intensity to the feeling of your cunts almost making out in a way that left you weak in the most maddening way.

Van was happy to just sit there and grab your waist in support as you trapped her in a way, made her submit to your pace, the way you rubbed yourself up against her, that delicious sense of helplessness that she had always craved in bed, which you could tell from the way she shook and uttered broken up phrases between her moans like "god.. don’t stop..." and "so fucking pretty...", watching you in awe as you purposely drew it out and waited until she was close to finishing to join her and feel your orgasms hit you at the same time, eyes locked as you rode it out and were both left wrecked and breathless from it.

after you moved down from her, you could tell that she was still somewhat riled up, so you touched her where she was slicked up from both your and her own cum, moved your head down to lick over her chest and suck on one of her tits, as you felt her hold your head in place, almost as if to prevent you from stopping, to make you keep her sensitive flesh in your mouth, and drew out another high, a follow-up one that was less intense but just a needed extra release, a pleased smiled on her face after you finally moved away and laid down next to her, a barely audible "fucking hell…" that made you feel a rush of pride.

after a minute of satisfied silence, you both turned to look at each other from the side and mirrored the action of tracing each others outline, your leg draped over hers, a the room warm and quiet, the morning sun casting long shadows on the floor, over your figures.

Van was the first to speak again, "thank god you were reckless enough to come to some strangers house without even facetiming or calling before. that was kinda risky you know.." a hint of respect in there for how bold you´d been.

you smiled and answered "well. it paid off. and I am done with all that for now, so, no danger there". Van´s eyes lit up when she registered the subtext there and inquired "oh yeah?" to hear it confirmed, that you wanted to keep seeing her, only her. "yeah" you whispered and caressed her arm, "me too" she said, relieved that the days of meeting strangers for meaningless sex might just be coming to an end, that she was entering a new era, that romance was slowly entering her life again, the doors to it opened by your hands.

there was a deep sense of ease in the air then, neither of you were able to stop smiling from it, you didn´t have to say a thing to know what the other was thinking:

this is only the very beginning. I can´t wait to get to know you. all of you.

#I definitely still think of her in season two while writing these #like thats the Van I see in my mind <3 dont make me think about what theyre doing in season 3.#van palmer x reader #van palmer #yellowjackets x reader #yellowjackets

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highlynerdy · 3 days ago

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I was just "lightly" going off in the tags of a gorgeous gif set about how much I love Sang Yan's bravery, but I have more to say that can't be contained in the tags. I still don't know if I can fully express my thoughts and feelings about this masterpiece of a show, but something that I can at least articulate is why I love Sang Yan as a character so much. To me, he truly is the most perfect example of "Do It Scared". This boy has never gotten over the heartbreak he suffered that fateful night in the rain in Beiyu. He has never let go of the girl he was in love with. Never, not in all these many years. And we see it in everything he does. Everything. In every terrible excuse of nonchalance or contrived situation of incredible kindness. In every step he takes towards her instead of back for his self preservation. Every instance of him trying to be cool, only for it to be so blatantly obvious he is expressing his care. Maybe in a tentative way, but boy is scared. It's obvious in the way he is still the quiet, serious boy he was back then, but he still moves in with her after losing his home. He doesn't run after her, but he buys extra food and furniture and makes their home cozy and kind and safe for her. We see it in the way he has never gotten close to another girl. In how it's mentioned more than once that his best friends never get close enough to know him intimately. But he lets her see him vulnerable in bits and pieces, and he gets to see her in return. We see it in the entire existence of Overtime as a concept, especially now that we know it was her dream to have this safe space to unwind. It's in the way he quietly and vulnerably entreats her sleeping self to reach out a hand first - to reach out more obviously - because he doesn't know if he can put himself out there again to be hurt because he is still nursing those years old wounds. And yet, in spite of his fear, we see he still buys the ticket to see her in Beiyu before she is finally brave for him. Once again offering her his heart. He loved her years ago, and has loved her all along, quietly and removed, with no pressure of reciprocation. For better or worse, fear or not, he is the epitome of someone who loves and loves and loves.

#the first frost #sang yan #难哄 #cdrama #bai jingting #it's been a day friends #and i just needed to get this out #does it make sense??#maybe maybe not #but i stand by it #thanks fys for chatting about it with me #tldr don't call someone a loser for being in love #because I have seen it going around when talking about his character

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acomfyloveseat · 22 hours ago

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i'm putting my vote on yes but more accurately i land 50/50. i agree pretty wholeheartedly with coelii and rain-element, and the only reason i'm voting yes is that most of the time, currently, i find myself enjoying the fact i am trans. the process was and is still very painful, though, in ways i don't know if i'll be free of anytime soon. that said, obviously the grass is always greener on the other side; the validity of many cis women is challenged daily, and being trans has had the wonderful side effect of making me far more cognizant of the ways in which that occurs and the many potential paths forward, and has impacted every area of my life so much that i would be an entirely different person had i been born cis. i just wish it didn't have to be the way that it did for me to arrive at myself.

i asked my friend recently if it remembered when i gave him the button test*, and if he would give the same answer (yes, press the button) as now. he said no, that it had grown to love the process of change. he asked me if my answer had changed, as a joke, because my answer had always been noncommittal (i'd been in denial for 8 years and always said "the button test doesn't work for me" because i always came up with reasons to say no). i told him it hadn't really changed at all, but that the reasoning was different now. the above illustrates pretty exactly my thoughts.

*the button test, if you don't know: "if you were alone on a deserted island and had everything you needed to live happily/comfortably, and there was a button there that would magically switch your body to that of the opposite gender, would you press it?" -- a pretty easy way to crack someone's egg

Trans people only

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h8aaz · 3 days ago

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❝ 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐢𝐬 𝐚𝐧 𝐨𝐩𝐞𝐧 𝐝𝐨𝐨𝐫 .ᐟ ❞

SUMMARY .ᐟ . . . you're a princess from a nearby kingdom, your family being one of the many that were invited to attend the coronation of the oldest winchester son. the two of you meet for the first time, and your worlds suddenly become brighter.

WARNINGS .ᐟ . . . king!dean + princess!reader . love at first sight . kingdom au? idk . kinda a destined to be/soulmates au . fluff + slight suggestive . sweet dean . sam mentioned . use of (name) .

GABS YAPS .ᐟ . . . happy jensen day!! this is obviously based off the song from frozen bc i recently rewatched the first movie and i still LOVE this song. i couldn't find a gif so enjoy the picture of jensen as king bacchus lol. lowkey loved this so maybe it'll become a small mini series idk! but he won't be a hans, i won't do that to yall, i promiseee 🙏🙏. likes, comments, + reblogs are very appreciated!!

you winced in pain as your helpers pulled the strings of the back of your dress, cinching your waist into the figure of the corset. afterwards, you had gotten your hair and makeup done, all being topped with your tiara being placed on your head.

you and your parents gathered into a carriage, riding to the next kingdom over, being ruled by the winchesters. soon the ride was over and you had found yourself amongst many others in the pews of a church, watching dean winchester hold the septar as a crown was placed upon his head; his younger brother, sam, stood off to the side with a proud look on his face.

dean turned around to face the crowd, beaming a grin full of confidence. for some odd reason, you felt drawn to him just by staring at him. maybe it's the new title? the thought of the power he now held? or was it how unbelievably charming he was in the way he carried himself? the way he spoke, words flowing flawlessly through his speech before the choir queued in, initiating the conclusion of the ceremony. there was just something about him, and you don't know if you'll ever quite place what that something was.

but your thoughts came to a halt as your heart thumped in your chest. he was looking at you. the crowd was clapping while he was staring— admiring you.

you began to clap as well, fearing that the reason he was staring was because you weren't. but he continued. to dean, you were the most gorgeous, beautiful, and damn stunning woman in the room. he knew of you and your family, his father having made trades with them in the past. he knew of your recent princess status; and he wanted to change that to queen right then and there.

your eyes sparkled like the shiny and expensive stones on his new crown, and your tiara. it seemed as if the world stopped when the two of you became mesmerized with each other.

sam caught this small fraction of a moment in time unlike the attendees around the large room. he smiled into a side smirk, his dimple poking into his skin.

"just go talk to her, dean." the young brunette urged his older brother as they stood at the front of the room, guests going up and bowing to them before dancing or mingling on the sidelines while they enjoyed the catering.

"yeah, like that's so easy. thanks, sammy." dean responded sarcastically, making sam roll his eyes at the fact that his brother, the ultimate flirt, was too scared to talk to you. "she'll be gone soon if you don't take your chance." sam spoke.

his words lingered in dean's head like a blaring reminder. this was the final part of his coronation, you truly will be gone by the time the party was over. and i mean, look at you! you're ethereal, and if he doesn't act now, the next thing he knows, he'll be invited as a guest to your wedding to a much lesser man who isn't him.

his eyes scanned the room as he had looked away from you to glare at his brother. once he found you again, his vision locked in once more, completely zeroing in on you as everyone around seemed to disappear.

"wish me luck, sammy." he mumbled, blocking out his brother's reply as he was already making his way across the large ballroom to you, grinning at yet ignoring the other guests who congratulated him.

you immediately felt his looming presence as you turned from the table and looked up as he towered over you.

"hi." he mumbled softly with a matching smile. your eyes widened, looking around the two of you to see people staring and murmuring.

you covered your mouth with your hand, "hi- hi, hey. uhm..h-hello, your, uh," you cleared your throat, "sorry, chocolate." you chuckled awkwardly while his smile grew. you curtsied after swallowing the rest of your sweet treat, "hello, your majesty." you smiled.

he found the whole encounter adorable while you, on the other hand, regretted your choices and stutters and basically everything you were doing. "dean is fine. you're (name), right?" he held out his hand, which you gently placed yours in, gasping lightly when he kissed your knuckles.

"oh! uh, yes, heh, sorry- yes, that's me. con-congratulations, dean. the ceremony, this party, you, its all beautiful." you rambled, pink flushing to both of your cheeks at your words.

"i-i didn't mean- i'm sorry- i'm so sorry, that was so weird-" your quick apology was cut off by his laughter, making you more embarrassed by the fact he was laughing at you.

"no, no, it's fine. please, don't apologize." he subconsciously rubbed your knuckles, the two of you not realizing the fact your hands were still connected. "plus, i was going to call you the same thing, so you beat me to it." he admitted, making you giggle.

"really? you think i'm beautiful?" you asked in disbelief. "not just beautiful, i think you're absolutely stunning." he answered. you stared into each others' eyes, sparkles twinkling in shared fondness.

the two of you were now on a balcony somewhere in the winchester castle, having broken away from the party with sam's help, who was incredibly sweet to you when you met, willing to spill all of dean's secrets right then and there had the elder not been there to shush him before he could.

"okay, can i just say something crazy?" dean asked, his arm linked with yours while your other wrapped around it.

"i love crazy!" you replied, making him chuckle as the two of you stared at the view ahead. dean took a deep breath in, soaking in this moment like it could be his very last. he was happy, so incredibly happy. he's never felt this free before.

all my life has been a series of doors in my face

and then, suddenly, i bump into you

"i've never felt this strongly for anyone before, let alone someone i just met. which, isn't a bad thing, not at all. but...i just never felt a connection like this. it feels so strange but so..." he trailed off, failing to think of a word.

i was thinking the same thing, 'cause like, i've been searching my whole life to find my own place

and maybe it's the party talking, or the chocolate fondue

"perfect?" you suggested, your soft voice breaking him away from the scenery to look down at you, seeing you already looking at him with your head rested against his upper arm.

he smiled, a genuine, happy smile. "yeah, perfect." he sighed contently. he moved to adjust your positions until you were standing and staring at each other. he moved some hair out of your face, cupping your cheek.

but with you (but with you, i found my place), i see your face

and it's nothing like i've ever known before

your hands rested against his chest, breathing calmly as if this was all second nature. the two of you glanced to the other's lips then back to the eyes. and as if spoken in a silent language, you both leaned in, connecting together with bodies flush against each other.

love is an open door, love is an open door (door)

your mouths moved in perfect sync, matching puzzle pieces finally clicking together. his other hand found sanctuary on your waist while yours reached up to his neck, pulling him down into you.

your hearts swelled as the two of you moved in passion and with certainty. this was it, this was your person.

love is an open door with you (with you), with you (with you)

love is an open door

after a very heated, nearly getting caught by guards, makeout session; the two of you made your way from the balcony to one of dean's favorite hidden tracks in the castle. you walked through small hallways and narrow open spaces through the garden before settling on a pathway. you had talked about multiple things, finding out you had so much in common.

i mean, it's crazy (what?)

we finish each other's (sandwiches)

that's what i was gonna say!

i never met someone who thinks so much like me

jinx! jinx again!

as a bird flew by, you both ducked at the same time, letting out small giggles as you faced each other, pecking lips until it slowed into real kisses.

our mental synchronization can have but one explanation

you (and i) were (just) meant to be

say goodbye (say goodbye) to the pain of the past

we don't have to feel it anymore

love is an open door

you eventually made your way up to a cliffside, dean leading the way with constant reassurance that you'd be safe as you clung to him tightly.

the view was absolutely gorgeous. the higher position letting you see above the land filled with trees, homes, and the castle itself. you squinted your eyes, seeing your own faraway kingdom's lights in the distance.

"god, this is wonderful, dean." you gushed. "right? my mom showed me this when i was little, i come here every now and again. i've never brought anyone but sam up here." he spoke.

"bet you say that to every girl." you snorted, which made him shake his head. "i haven't. i'm normally too afraid to show myself vulnerable around anyone but sammy." he turned to you, "but with you, (name), it's different. i feel so comfortable and happy and i feel like i can by myself around you."

you stared at him in shock and admiration, nobody has ever felt that way, or at least said they do, around you before. and it made you fall deeply in love with him on the spot, whereas he had fallen in love with you since he first saw you.

you immediately brought him into yet another kiss, your tongues swirling together like a practiced dance. hands roamed around warm bodies straining against uncomfortable, tight clothing.

your bodies moved against each other, chasing any sort of friction from the other. moans of pleasure and love spewed from one mouth to another, trapped between the two of you.

love is an open door (door)

life can be so much more with you (with you), with you (with you)

love is an open door (door)

when you pulled away for needed air, a string of saliva connected you both, breaking at heaving chests releasing pants swollen lips. your eyes gazed over each other's, hues of colors shining in the moonlight behind dilated pupils.

"can i say something crazy? will you marry me?" dean asked in a soft whisper, not really thinking before he spoke, but now awaiting your answer.

"can i say something even crazier? yes!" you whispered back then squealed. grins plastered on your faces before lips smashed and crashed against each other again, hands pulling until you were close, almost meshed, together once more.

tags!: @sunsbaby @j2archives @soldiersgirl @dulcescorderitas @bejeweledinterludes @deansbeer @starzify @bluemerakis @immodestly-marina @legalmente-loca @multiversefanfics

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devixncy · 2 days ago

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Fluffy Choi Su-Bong x Fem!Reader please where she goes to one of his shows to cheer him on. He doesn’t think she’ll be there, since she told him she’d be stuck at work. But little did he know, she was planning a surprise this whole time. Imagine his shock (and pure joy) he feels when he sees her front row and center, singing along to every word. The girls around you are lowkey jealous at the attention he’s showing you, winking at you from his spot on stage, but you couldn’t care, too enamored by your man doing his thing and crushing it ☺️

a/n: sorry this took me so long!! this request was so cute and i rly liked writing it :')

✧ pairing: choi su-bong (thanos) x reader

✧ word count: 1.9k

✧ content: fem!reader, no games AU, ooc thanos for sure but idc, no warnings, just fluff :)

“I know, Su-bong, and I’m really sorry. I feel terrible. I promise I’ll make it to the next one, okay?”

Your phone was pressed against your ear as you spoke to your boyfriend, apologizing for not being able to make it to his show. However, you were thrilled that he couldn’t see you smiling.

“I know you will, flower. I just really wish you could’ve made it to this one.” The disappointment in his voice was clear as day, and it did break your heart a little. You were his biggest supporter, always cheering on his career. Unfortunately, you had never been to one of his shows. You were working during them most of the time, your career demanding late nights and missed opportunities.

You were the one that helped him get back on his feet. When you met him, he was a mess–always in a drug-induced haze, never quite living up to his full potential. You had an unwavering determination to help him. So, you did. He got clean. With a clear conscience, he was able to coherently write music and his songs became better than ever. He built himself back up, booking shows and eventually selling them out. And he gave all the credit to you. There was nothing he wanted more than to see you at one of his shows so that you could see the progress he made in person.

Little did he know, you were not stuck at work tonight. That’s what he obviously assumed, and was ready to play another show without his number one fan there. You, on the other hand, were planning on surprising him. You wanted your first attendance to be a complete surprise, knowing it would catch him off guard.

“I will be at the next one, I swear to you. But I have to get back to work, and you need to go rehearse, Su-bong. I love you, I’ll talk to you later.” Your heart fluttered as he said ‘I love you’ back, never getting tired of hearing those words. Hanging up, you put your phone down, hopping up out of bed. Now was time to start getting ready for his show, and you wanted to look your best.

Your hands smoothed down the fabric of your skirt, admiring the way it hugged your body. You chose an outfit that wasn’t too crazy–a mini skirt and a cute top that you would be comfortable in, knowing fully well that it would be hot in the crowd of people. Finishing the final touches on your hair and makeup, you grabbed your bag, ready to make your way to the venue.

Once you arrived, you met up with Nam-gyu outside. You knew he was close with Su-bong, and told him what your plan was before you got there. He got you inside, leading you to the front of the stage behind the barricade so that you were front and center. The venue was filling up quickly, many fans trying to push their way up to be at the front next to you. You stood with your hands curled around the metal bars of the barricade, anxiously awaiting the start of the concert.

Su-bong stood backstage, putting his earpiece in and adjusting the microphone in his grip. He sighed as he adjusted his jacket–the red leather racer jacket that you loved so much, paired with the beige cowboy hat that you’d told him was incredibly attractive. He felt a pang of disappointment in his chest at the thought of you not being there yet again. But he couldn’t dwell on it too long. He’d perform like he always did, lose himself in the music, and push through the thought of your absence.

Soon after, once all of the fans were settled in–the lights went dark. Immediately, screams of excitement filled the room. You grinned, your pulse quickening. Smoke began to seep across the stage, lights flashing down as a beat began to play through the speakers. The venue buzzed with excitement, even more so as it went dark again.

After moments of anticipation, a single spotlight flickered onto the stage. Su-bong stood in the middle of the stage, head tilted downwards with his hands clasped in front of him. One hand gripped the mic, fingers flexing around it. The screams from the crowd came back full force at the sight of him, and from your spot in front, you could see the ghost of a smirk form on his face. The beat began to play again and he moved, lifting the mic up to his lips. The flashing lights came back full force. His voice rang across the room as he lifted his head up, quickly beginning to move across the stage as he immersed himself in the song. You could almost feel your knees go weak at the sound of his voice (and the outfit he was wearing)--you absolutely loved hearing him sing and rap.

The crowd sang along to every word, yourself included. You watched as he danced around the stage, doing choreographed movements to some parts of the song.

Su-bong finally decided to look at the crowd, knowing they liked it when he interacted with them. His eyes swept over them as he sang, before his eyes settled on the people in the front row since they were easier to see.

And then he did a double take, because surely his eyes were deceiving him. But no–that was undeniably you, front and center in the crowd.

You stood there smiling wide, eyes bright, singing along to every word.

His breath hitched and his mind went blank, causing him to miss a few seconds of the song. The pounding bass vibrated through the floor beneath him, and his grip on the mic tightened before he forced himself to keep singing.

He caught the knowing little smirk on your face as you lifted your hand in a small wave, like you hadn’t just completely taken him by surprise and knocked the air out of his lungs.

A slow grin tugged at his lips. Oh, you were in trouble.

Shaking his head in disbelief, he forced himself back into the moment, stepping forward as the song ended and the crowd roared. The next performance took over, the familiar rush of adrenaline coursing through his veins, but his gaze kept finding you. He watched as you continued to sing along to every word, your hips swaying to the beat.

At one point, he pointed directly at you, making a heart with his hands and shooting you a wink. Your cheeks burned, heart threatening to burst in your chest but you wasted no time in doing the gesture right back to him.

The girls around you began to notice the attention he was giving you. He saw the way they whispered, eyes flicking between him and yourself, some of them subtly angling closer as if to steal a bit of his focus.

Too bad for them—his attention was locked onto you.

Eventually, as much as you were disappointed, he was about to begin his last song for the night. He had taken a break to talk to the crowd, and then before the song began, he looked straight at you.

“This last song is a little different. I wanted to try something new, so you guys will be hearing it for the first time right now. It’s dedicated to a certain someone in my life, and I hope they like it as much as I do.” He said into the mic, taking a sip of water before setting it down and nervously readjusting the mic.

Your lips parted in shock at his words, and he shot you another wink as he noticed. You thought you had heard every song he’d written, especially because when he wrote, he liked to get your opinion.

As he began to sing, you fully came to realize that he wrote this song about you. It was heartfelt, and one of the most beautiful things you’d ever heard. The crowd listened attentively to the lyrics, excited to be getting a surprise song. You, however, were emotional. Tears spilled over your eyes, more than likely effectively ruining your makeup. His eyes stayed locked onto you the entire performance, as if the two of you were the only ones in the room.

Towards the end of the song, he walked towards the edge of the stage. He carefully hopped down, advancing his way towards the barricade. The other girls around you screamed, hoping to capture his attention. But he walked right to you, stopping in front of you. He removed his hat that you liked so much from his head, putting his purple hair on full display. He put it directly onto your head, making sure it was secure. Grabbing your chin gently with his free hand, he lifted your face so you were looking up at him. He continued to hold the position until he ended the song, which was only moments later. What caught you by surprise, however, was the fact that he immediately dipped his head down to capture your lips in a kiss. The audience roared around you, the cheers and clapping the loudest you’d heard all night. You closed your eyes, wishing it would never end.

Unfortunately, he pulled back seconds later, his hand dropping from your chin. You couldn’t wipe the smile off of your face as he got back on stage. He thanked his fans, waving energetically to the crowd before disappearing off of the platform.

The energy of the show still buzzed in Su-bongs’ veins as he made his way offstage, sweat slicking his skin, adrenaline still pumping. The moment the set ended, he knew he wasn’t stopping for the usual post-show routine or backstage interviews. All he did was take his earpiece out and throw his mic down.

He needed to get to you, first.

Pushing past security and ignoring the lingering crowd of fans hoping for a chance to catch his attention, he zeroed in on the one person that mattered. You were still waiting near the barricades, but had moved away from the center and towards the side. You grinned as you watched him approach, looking smug. "Took you long enough," you teased, tilting your head up at him.

Su-bong didn’t answer. Instead, he reached for you, tugging you over the barrier and straight into his arms. A surprised laugh escaped you, but you barely had time to react before he crushed you against him.

"You really got me good, huh señorita?" he murmured against your ear, voice rough from the performance, but you could hear the warmth in his tone.

You pulled back slightly, just enough to meet his gaze. "Worth it?"

He huffed out a laugh, resting his forehead against yours, causing the hat to tilt back and almost fall off of your head. "More than worth it."

For a moment, it was just the two of you. The noise of the venue, the flashes of cameras, the murmurs of the crowd—all of it faded into the background.

Then, with a small smirk, he added, "But you are in trouble."

You raised an eyebrow. "Oh yeah? For what?"

His fingers curled around your waist, pulling you closer. "For making me think you weren’t gonna be here. For making my whole damn night better without warning me first." He tilted his head, voice lower now. "And for looking so damn good while doing it."

Heat rose to your cheeks, but you just rolled your eyes. "You’re ridiculous."

"Yeah?" He grinned. "And yet, here you are. You know you love it.”

You let out a laugh, shaking your head. “You know I do.”

He kissed you then, again—right there, in front of everyone—not caring about the cameras, the whispers, the jealous stares.

Because at the end of the night, you were the only one who mattered.

#squid game #squid game x reader #squid game season 2 #squid game fanfic #choi su bong #player 230 #thanos squid game #thanos x reader #choi su bong x reader #player 230 x reader #thanos x you #choi su bong x you

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testyqwcde · 19 hours ago

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Many of you are already familiar with my enthusiasm for the theory that Haladriel may have had an intimate relationship in Eregion. This idea has been subtly hinted at in the context and discussed in detail within the meta. Today, I'd like to explore one more aspect that could further suggest the possibility of intimacy between these two characters.

Being the spirits tied to the elements of Arda, the maiar can draw energy from the natural forces and elements of the world. This connection is often linked to the specific domains they control. For instance, Sauron, who has dominion over the fire, draws power from this force. This is evident after the eruption— he gets the dark power back and while he obviously pretends to be wounded, there’s a shift to darkness in his appearance.

When he arrives in Eregion, he heals and then works with Celebrimbor and Galadriel, appearing almost rejuvenated as if the very light of Valinor is shining upon him, something burns within him as though a flame has been awakened.

However, after the reveal of his true self, his look begins to change once again upon his return to Eregion. His once radiant appearance darkens. In my opinion, it signifies not only his fall into darkness, but also the loss of Galadriel’s light, which had once been a guiding force for him, shining upon him. His dark powers are no longer balanced.

Sauron made it clear that he wished to be bound to Galadriel's light. He wants to harvest it for himself.

How does he envision this process?

It’s not about her physically standing beside and her literal light shining upon him, right?

There’s a deeper connection to be explored here.

This is primarily an emotional bond, where two individuals find comfort in each other's presence, sharing warmth and feelings that create a sense of mutual understanding. This is the feeling they shared in Numenor and Southlands. This is when Halbrand looked like this.

However, in Eregion we have even a better improved Halbrand 2.0 version, he is so fuckingly handsome here, not only being in the light but radiating this light himself.

Where did he get this light? I may assume because Galadriel was generous and shared it with him.

How?...

Many of you know the story about Melkor and Arien. Arien, a Maia who governs the Sun, is a fiery spirit whose light powers the Sun. Melkor, in his desire for her light, ravaged her, causing her to be released from the world of Arda. Many Tolkien enthusiasts interpret this act as a form of violation—Melkor essentially took Arien's light in a brutal and destructive manner, meaning raped her when she refused to become his wife.

In the case of Galadriel and Halbrand, Sauron’s desire for her light can be seen as a similar longing. Instead of merely desiring her physical presence and support, it’s about him trying to harvest her light through intimacy. In many cultures, sexual intercourse is viewed as a ritual for sharing energy, perhaps, Sauron sought to get her light in the same way.

He could be sleeping with her, harvesting her light to magnify his own strength. He knows the depth of her radiance, a force that could overwhelm him completely. And unlike Arien, she has been offering it to him freely because she's been in love with Halbrand. That's why it cuts deep and stirs a storm of anger when she refuses his offer to remain eternally bound.

He returns to Eregion to forge the rings alongside Celebrimbor and though he is still handsome, he is no longer radiating this light because he lost its source.

He desperately tries to get Galadriel back and harvest her light that he got so addicted to and when she refuses to become his wife queen again, he ravishes her in a similar way Melkor did to Arien. Brutally, taking her by force.

However, much like in the story of Melkor and Arien, it won't quite work. Arien released her spirit, burning Melkor and leaving him ashen and grey. As for Galadriel... she simply leapt off a cliff, once again denying him the light he so much desire.

#haladriel #saurondriel #the rings of power #sauron #galadriel x sauron #halbrand #galadriel #amazon rings of power #sauron x galadriel #trop

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losers-clvb · 1 day ago

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talk too much // soldier boy

pairing: soldier boy x female!reader

summary: sometimes you talk too much.

content: yapper reader, talk of sex because this is ben we're talking about, old man coded ben, age gap kind of mentioned but you could ignore it, slight ooc ben maybe, fluff

word count: 1k

note: this fits into the universe with the reader from "it will come back" but could definitely be read on its own. this is inspired by the song "talk too much" by queen renee rapp and myself because i am a yapper by nature.

masterlist

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You were making that face again. The one you made when you were having a silent conversation with yourself, or when you were listening to those smut audiobooks you seemed to love so much. Taking in your lack of headphones, Ben went for the former option.

You and Ben had been having a normal -- or as normal as you could possibly get with an over one-hundred year old supe -- morning, complete with fresh-brewed coffee and omelets made by you. When he had swiped up the morning paper you had brought in for him, you knew he wanted to be left alone to read the headlines. Well, left alone with the occasion scoff of “fuckin’ pussies” at a particularly progressive story.

You were happy to sit next to him and read along. You had gotten comfortable being in his presence after the many months together. You were something of a couple, though it had never been said out loud by either of you. You both just eased into it.

Somewhere between a story on the local shelter hosting a bake sale and a murderer at large you had zoned off, eyes floating to the floor. You were thinking too much again.

Ben watched you out of the corner of his eyes, pursing his lips when you made a face of disgust. It was quickly replaced with a pout and your eyes narrowed. Okay, enough of this. He couldn’t take it anymore.

“What’s on your mind, doll?” Ben asked, pulling the newspaper taut to keep it from folding over. You shot your attention to him, looking up at him with wide eyes that told him you knew you had been caught.

“Nothing.” You answered quickly, nestling into his side. You hoped this would distract him, make him think more about your hand brushing against his bicep rather than your ability to overthink.

“You were obviously thinkin’ about something.” He argued, squinting his eyes at a black-and-white picture of a giraffe. You scrunched your nose at him and he was tempted to kiss the pout off your face.

“How do you know I was thinking? Maybe I was just staring at the wall.” You defended. It was a weak argument. Ben had gotten to know you too well, much more than you had gotten to know him, thanks to your near constant flow of words to him. You just liked talking and most times he was happy to listen.

“That mind’s always running, sweetheart.” He smirked and tapped a finger on the side of your head. You tried to duck away, but the action only resulted in your head bumping against his shoulder.

“It is not. I can have an empty brain.” You knew it was a lie. Even when you were sleeping you were still thinking of something.

“Only time it’s empty is when I get you all cockdrunk. Now,” Ben raised his eyebrows, “what were you thinking about?”

You would have argued back, but you knew it was true. He knew all the right buttons to push to get you all but babbling nonsense at him while he fucked you. You dropped your eyes to the table.

“Well,” you started, stalling, “I was trying to figure out if I like you.” You realized exactly what you had said after it came out, your mouth running faster than your brain. You whipped your head back to look at him. He was giving you a confused look and you felt the need to explain yourself.

“Not that I don’t like you. I just don’t know if I like like you. Well, I do like like you, but maybe I could like like like you, you know?” You sputtered out. Ben opened his mouth to talk, but you beat him to it.

“No, you probably don’t. Did people talk like this in the forties? Or wait, the eighties? What time are you from? Oh my gosh, you’re old. What would people think about us together?”

Then you suddenly looked horrified.

“What would my mother think about us?” You quickly moved into contemplation. “I mean, I don’t care too much what she thinks. She can be a bitch sometimes.” Immediate regret.

“Not a bitch!” You blurted out. “She’s not a bitch!” You took in a steadying breath. “I love my mother, she just can just ask too many questions sometimes. But I guess that’s better than her being dead.” Your face morphed into sadness.

“I don’t want my mother to die. I can’t live without her.” You thought about what you said and decided it made you seem co-dependant on her. “Well, I can, but I don’t want to.” That was when you caught Ben’s amused look. You frowned.

“Do I talk too much?” You asked, though the answer was clear. Ben opened his mouth, again, but, again, you cut him off.

“Actually, don't answer that. I don’t know if I could handle the answer.” You cringed at the childish tone of your words. “I mean, I could handle it, because I’m an adult. But you know that. Of course you know that. We do adult things all the time. Not that we only do adult things, but-,”

Ben decided to put you out of your misery. He grabbed at your face, squishing your cheeks together with one hand to prevent you from speaking any more. You looked at him with those wide, baby deer eyes he loved so much.

“You don’t talk too much.” He said calmly and placed a kiss right on your lips. He hoped that would be the end of it and he could get back to his paper. You smiled gratefully when he let go of your face and cuddled back into him.

“Thank you, Ben.”

Unfortunately, that inspired a new spill of words.

“Wait, do you like Ben or Soldier Boy better? I know Ben was your name from before, but most people call you Soldier Boy. Of course, I’m not most people, but what do you like more?”

“Oh God,” you breathed out, “I should have asked months ago. What if I’ve been using the wrong name this whole time? You probably hate me now.”

Ben sighed and let you ramble on. You would tire yourself out eventually.

#x reader #the boys #soldier boy #soldier boy x reader #soldier boy fanfic #soldier boy x you #soldier boy fanfiction #soldier boy x female reader #the boys fanfic #jensen ackles #soldier boy fluff

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saintsenara · 2 days ago

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Perhaps not the point of your ongoing Snoldemort (Vape?) masterpiece, but I really like how you write Lily. She’s adventurous and determined and charismatic, but also utterly careless about Severus’ emotions and especially his poverty in a way that’s - for those of us who’ve been in the same boat - utterly demeaning. And I think that’s all clearly there in canon too! I know she’s rather underwritten due to her mystery being kept under wraps for 6.95 out of 7 books, but I don’t think she’s *quite* as underwritten as many people think considering she’s only got about 10 lines. So I really love it on the exceedingly rare occasions when she flashes up in fics to be less saintly and more…correct in most respects, but also such a dick about it.

i can't believe i've been foolishly persisting with "snapemort" as the ship name when "vape" was in front of me the whole time.

[a shot of lord voldemort listening to the radio broadcasts of the wizengamot...]

thank you very much for this lovely message about scylla and charybdis, anon! i'm delighted you're enjoying it.

the starting point for her characterisation in the fic was - basically - god forbid a teenage girl not be the most selfless person in history.

i'm always really struck [and completely unsurprised...] that both sides of the fandom debate about snape seem to focus a lot on lily's supposed saintliness. since i'm a snape fan, i end up seeing the anti-lily side of this fairly often - endless rounds of "well if she's so great why didn't she do exactly what snape wanted all the time? why did she simply not accommodate everything he thought? checkmate, snaters" nonsense, which then quickly devolves into "every even mildly negative thought she had about snape was driven by her pure evil"...

but the thing is... even without any of the rest of it - the fact that she's a member of the wizarding world's persecuted underclass and there's a war on, for example - she's allowed to not be constantly thinking about other people's problems. and she's allowed to be annoyed and selfish and uncharitable and rude. and she's allowed to not be constantly filtering her words and actions through every single possible societal nuance in order to make sure she only responds in the most perfect way ever... not least because that's fundamentally impossible.

i like the fact that she never quite gets how snape's poverty changes his engagement with the world - especially in the most recent chapter, when she's thirteen and she thinks she's having a nice time hanging out with her pal and she thinks he's saying what he means when he says he doesn't want anything from the ice cream man, rather than pretending that he doesn't because he hasn't got any money and he finds the idea of admitting that to her to be too humiliating to bear - because it's a situation where neither of them are in the wrong, which i just find much more interesting than the fandom's determination to divide characters who are in conflict into the winner and the loser, or the good person and the bad one, or the person who's right and the person who's wrong.

snape's feelings about his poverty are entirely understandable, and lily clearly hasn't thought as much about it as might be admirable... but it's also his own fault that he doesn't share these feelings with lily, and just expects her to read his mind and modify her behaviour without him offering her any explanation as to why he wants her to do this or offering her any chance to refuse or to ask him to compromise on these desires.

and this lack of honest communication leads to their bigger, much more clear-cut resentments - over james, over mulciber and avery, over dark magic, and - of course - over voldemort. lily's obviously completely correct to say that voldemort is a terrorist and she won't respect anyone who's obsessed with him... the moral argument is black-and-white, lily's the only person who's right.

but the issue is that snape isn't actually arguing from an opposing position. he's not arguing that voldemort isn't a terrorist - he's arguing that voldemort is a terrorist who's also the only person he's ever met who's offering a tangible way for him to get out of poverty. and this is true - both in the fic and, in my view, in the canon text. the material argument is much, much more complicated than the moral one.

lily can't solve these problems - she's just one person, and she doesn't have to risk her own safety to try and deradicalise someone seeking to join an organisation which hates muggleborns - and i don't expect her to have ever been able to do so.

but i also like the fact that - just as snape's major failing in canon is indifference [he can tolerate what voldemort does until it affects him] - the good guys' major failing is indifference too.

the ministry and the order are principled people taking a righteous moral stand against terror... and they also have no idea how the system they're fighting for oppresses all but the elite of wizarding society... whereas voldemort understands this intimately, and he uses it to swell his ranks with disaffected recruits who are looking for someone to blame for their conditions...

[hence why he's the person - even as the text tries to present him as someone whose aims are pureblood oligarchy - who canonically commands the support (or, at the very least, the toleration) of the working classes and the non-human peoples oppressed by the wizarding state...]

but these recruits are nonetheless entirely aware what they're signing up for... they're not joining a legitimate political party, or a union, or an activist group seeking to bring about change through non-violent means... they're joining a terrorist organisation...

but their experience at the hands of the state makes them easy to convince that they've got no other choice...

i like this sort of vicious cycle approach to both the first and the second war because it's so much more interesting than canon's "this is a straightforward battle between good and evil" vibe.

#asks answered #s&c answers #severus snape #lily evans

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wholoveseggs · 3 hours ago

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A Common Mistake

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

{Elijah Mikaelson x Elena Gilbert} Fresh from a breakup with Damon, Elena wants something simple. No complications, no emotions, just a distraction. But then she finds Elijah in her town, and there is nothing simple about wanting him.

♡♡ I've been re-watching tvd and decided to write a little thing about the ship that never was... This is my love letter to Elejah ~ ♡♡

7.6k words - Warnings: Smuttt, unresolved tension that finally snaps, fingering, oral (m+f receiving), vampire!Elena taking what she wants, set after their last encounter in Season 4, jealous Damon, Elijah being slightly protective, my heavy dislike for Damon shining through, post-Delena breakup clarity (Stelena forever, obviously), vampire face slipping out, Elijah thoroughly putting Damon in his place &&& jumpscare warning: Matt Donovan briefly mentioned.

Elena Gilbert wasn’t drunk. She wasn’t even tipsy. She had nursed a single drink all night, more focused on the atmosphere of the grill then on getting caught up in the buzz of alcohol. The gang had gone out for Matt’s birthday, and while the others were letting loose, Elena found herself restless. Detached.

She was sitting in a corner booth at the grill, between Damon and Stefan. Both of them had been vying for her attention all night, but she had eyes for another.

He wasn’t a part of the group, but seated at the bar with a drink in his hand. The way he was staring into the bottom of his glass, Elena could tell he was lost in thought.

Elijah Mikaelson, once her ally, once her enemy, now just a passing acquaintance. She hadn't seen him since he left Mystic Falls behind and moved to New Orleans.

He looked good, his hair a bit shorter, and his clothes a bit tighter. He was wearing a black button-down and slacks, his sleeves rolled up to his elbows, giving him a relaxed, casual air. A rare form for him to be in.

"Earth to Elena," Damon’s voice cut through her thoughts.

"Yeah?"

"I asked if you want one more drink before we go?" He was gesturing toward her nearly empty glass.

"Yeah, thanks... Actually, I'll get it myself. I need to use the ladies' room anyway," she replied, ignoring the way he had his arm around the back of her seat, like he was expecting to leave with her.

The truth was, she didn’t want another drink, nor did she want to go home with either Salvatore… But she did want to talk to Elijah.

She grabbed her purse and slid out of the booth, heading to the bathroom. She fixed her lipstick and her hair, trying to keep her nerves under control.

There was so much left unsaid between her and the handsome original. So many things that she wanted to ask him, but she wasn't sure if she was ready for the answers.

She was still working through a bit of heartbreak with Damon, she knew just how toxic they had been together. She was afraid to dive into anything that even slightly resembled the relationship she had with him.

She didn’t want anything complicated, just a release, a catharsis. Something to help her truly move on… or at least distract her from her thoughts.

Taking a deep breath, she pushed the bathroom door open, walking out into the dining area of the grill. It was packed with people, but she saw him still at the bar.

It wasn’t until she was nearly standing beside him that she realized how awkward this could be. Maybe he didn’t see her the way she saw him.

Still, she slid onto the barstool beside him, glancing at him from the corner of her eye. Up close, he smelled like bourbon and something distinctly him. Clean, expensive, understated. It was unfair how good he looked. How unbothered. How he just existed in the middle of the chaos of the grill, like none of it touched him.

She opened her mouth, then closed it. Second-guessing herself now felt ridiculous. She had already committed by sitting here.

“Hey, stranger.” she finally managed to get out.

Elijah lifted his head from where he had been staring into his drink. His eyes flicked to her, just for a second, before he turned to face her fully. Surprise flashed across his features, but it was gone as quickly as it came, replaced by something unreadable. A small, polite smile.

“Elena.” The way he said her name sent a ripple down her spine. “Are you enjoying your evening?”

She tried to ignore the way her pulse picked up. “I am. How about you?” She tilted her head slightly, feigning casual interest. “I haven’t seen you since…”

She trailed off. Since what, exactly? Since he left for New Orleans? Since she turned her humanity back on? Since… everything…

Elijah, of course, filled in the blanks for her. “Since we kissed, and then Katherine snapped your neck?” His voice was so smooth, so unbothered, that it took a second for the words to sink in.

Her stomach dropped. “I… um… yeah.”

Heat rose to her cheeks, and she instantly regretted coming over here.

A smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth. Not quite mocking, but amused. “A rather unfortunate sequence of events.”

She let out a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding. “That’s one way to put it.”

A beat of silence passed. The air between them wasn’t awkward, but it was heavy, weighted down with too much unspoken history.

Elijah was watching her. Not in an obvious way, but in a way that made her feel like she was under a microscope. Like he was peeling back her layers, unraveling her thoughts before she even voiced them.

He swirled his drink before setting it down. “And how are you, Elena?”

She blinked. Something about the way he said it. In this low, intent way, like he actually wanted a genuine answer. It nearly threw her off balance.

She had far too much to drink for this.

“I’m… figuring things out,” she stuttered, the safest way to phrase it.

Elijah arched a brow, clearly unimpressed. “That’s rather vague.”

She huffed a quiet laugh, rubbing at the condensation on the bar with the tip of her finger. “Yeah, well, it’s been complicated.”

As if on cue, the complication came striding over, with all the confidence in the world. Damon slid into the stool next to her, and Elijah cracked the smallest of smiles.

She tried not to bristle, but her annoyance must have been clear. Because Damon glanced between them, and then back at her, his eyes narrowed slightly.

"I'm surprised to see you here Elijah, I heard you were thriving down in the Louisiana bayous," Damon said, his tone light and friendly, but Elena could detect a note of bitterness underneath.

"Yes, well, I needed a break. The humidity is a bit oppressive," Elijah's voice was smooth and polite.

"Well, maybe you should be getting back, wouldn't want your swamp friends to worry," Damon was baiting him, and Elena wanted to groan.

But Elijah wasn't one to be baited.

"No, perhaps not," He replied, his tone never shifting. "But the company here is far better,"

His eyes raked over Elena in such an obvious way, as though he was daring Damon to call him out. She was surprised when her face flushed, and her heart sped up. There was something about his intensity that set her on fire.

She watched as the two men stared at each other. Damon looked pissed and Elijah looked as calm as ever.

Damon leaned over, placing a hand on the small of her back. A move that she once would have loved, but now was over-familiar.

"Stop," she said softly, brushing away his hand.

Damon's brows drew together. "What?"

He stared at her, a little confused, and a little hurt. Pretending like they weren't on a serious break, that they weren't in a constant state of turmoil.

"I mean it, stop," She whispered, giving him a pleading look.

Elijah took in the scene with a quiet sort of amusement, but his sharp gaze didn’t miss a thing. The way Elena stiffened under Damon’s touch. The way her shoulders drew in slightly, like she was preparing for a fight she didn’t want to have. The way Damon.. all too predictably… wasn't going to let it go.

"Come on, ‘Lena. Let’s talk. You owe me that, don’t you?" Damon’s voice was lower now, coaxing, as if she was still the girl who would melt under his charm.

Elena’s lips parted, and for a moment, Elijah could see the old patterns creeping back in. The way Damon spoke to her like she was something fragile, like she needed saving. The hesitation. The wariness. The temptation to just give in to whatever Damon wanted because it was easier. He knew the feeling all too well…

"Elena has told you to stop. Twice." Elijah’s voice remained smooth, even, but there was an unmistakable edge now. "And yet, here you are, still pressing the matter. It’s rather embarrassing, don’t you think?"

Damon bristled. "I don’t need a lecture from you about my relationship, buddy."

Elijah smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes. "And yet, you’re receiving one."

Elena swallowed. She could feel the tension thrumming between them, thick enough to suffocate. Her first instinct was to step in, to smooth things over. But then she stopped herself. Because Elijah wasn’t wrong. Damon wasn’t listening. And honestly? She was tired of fighting this battle alone.

"Elijah’s right," she said softly, shifting slightly closer to Elijah. Damon’s eyes followed the movement like it was some sort of betrayal. "I told you to stop, Damon. And I mean it."

He let out a short, humorless laugh. "So what, you’re suddenly into him?" He gestured at Elijah like he was an offensive piece of furniture. "Come on, Elena. You can’t be serious."

Elijah chuckled, low and quiet. He was still leaning casually against the bar, still outwardly relaxed, but there was something in his posture that had shifted. Like a predator assessing whether his prey was still worth entertaining.

"Why do you assume your rejection must be about me?" he mused, swirling the amber liquid in his glass. "Rather than considering the possibility that Elena simply doesn’t want you here,"

Damon’s smirk vanished.

And for the first time that night, he had nothing to say.

Elijah smiled again, but this time, there was something sharper beneath it, his canines flashing. He turned slightly, just enough to look at Elena properly, and his eyes raked over her once more.

“Shall we order another drink?” he asked, his voice smooth, unbothered. "It seems you've earned one."

Elena hesitated, her mind still reeling from the confrontation. But she found herself nodding. “Yeah. I think I have.”

Damon exhaled sharply, like he wanted to argue, but instead, he stood and stormed off. Elena didn’t watch him leave.

Instead, she focused on Elijah, who gestured for the bartender.

The tension in her shoulders eased as he ordered for both of them. There was something stabilizing about him. No pressure, no expectation. Just quiet presence.

His silence stretched long enough that she glanced up, meeting his gaze. It was softer now, considering. He looked as though he wanted to say something, but wasn't sure how to start.

"Are you alright?" he asked finally.

Elena nodded, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear. "I'm okay."

“Damon is… not the easiest of men,” Elijah murmured, taking a sip of his drink.

Elena tensed slightly at the mention of Damon. Not because it was a sore subject. She had been expecting it… but because Elijah sounded like he understood her in a way that made her feel exposed.

“No, he’s not,” she admitted quietly. She hesitated before adding, “It wasn’t working. I think, deep down, I knew that for a while. I just… kept holding on.”

Elijah nodded, his history with Katherine wasn’t all that different.

“You deserved better,” he said simply.

The words hit harder than they should have. Maybe because when people said it before, it felt like an empty platitude. But from Elijah, it sounded like a fact. Like there was no argument to be had.

She swallowed. “That’s what everyone keeps telling me.”

“They’re not wrong.”

She didn’t know what to say to that, so she didn’t say anything at all.

Instead, she let herself look at him. Really look at him. He was different from when she first met him. A little more relaxed, a little less like he was carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders. Or maybe he just hid it better. Either way, she had a deep urge to get to know this new side.

"So... How's Louisiana? Are you happy there?" She asked, trying to fill the silence.

Elijah hummed, taking a sip of his drink. "In a way, yes, I'm happier than I have been in a long time, I'm with my family, and it feels good to be home,"

"And in another way?" She pressed, she wanted to know more.

He sighed, "Everything is still as dysfunctional as ever. And while I'm grateful to have my siblings... Sometimes I need a break,"

Elena nodded, chuckling softly. "Yeah, I get that,"

Their conversation flowed, deepening into something unexpectedly familiar. The tension from earlier melted into a quieter, more charged atmosphere.

Elijah ordered her another drink, and they began to catch up, talking about nothing and everything. It was as though a crackle of electricity passed between them. They were close, not quite touching, but she could practically feel the heat radiating off his body.

"Would you like to go for a walk with me?" he asked, the corner of his mouth curving upward.

She nodded, sliding off her barstool. He did the same, his hand falling on the small of her back. This time, the touch was welcome.

For a moment, they stood there, like both of them were aware that things had changed. Things had escalated. A simple suggestion of a walk was more loaded than it should be.

She looked over at the table of her friends. Stefan looked like he had swallowed a lemon, Caroline and Bonnie were giggling and whispering behind their hands, and Matt had a confused expression.

She gave them an awkward smile and took Elijah's arm.

He led her out of the grill and across the street towards the town square. It was late and most of the shops had closed hours ago, the streets were empty.

"What were you thinking about when I walked up to the bar?" She asked as they strolled down the sidewalk.

“Oh, it was nothing,”

"Tell me." She nudged him with her shoulder.

"Very well. I was thinking of you." He chuckled, enjoying the blush that rose to her cheeks.

"Me?" She asked quietly.

"I'm afraid so." He teased, looking straight ahead.

"What about me?"

He sighed. “I was trying to understand why, even after all this time, I still can't shake the feelings I have for you.”

"Feelings?" Her heart pounded in her chest.

He chuckled and looked at the ground, shaking his head. "Forgive me. You are young and deserve the right to explore life without another old man pining for you."

"Old man?" She laughed, stopping and turning to face him.

"Relatively speaking." He smirked.

"You don't look a day over 35." She teased.

"How generous." He quipped, looking up at her from under his brow.

The smile slipped from her face as she stared back. His eyes held such an intensity, and he was so close. She could feel the warmth radiating off his body.

"You know... When we kissed that day… when you thought I was Katherine…. I felt something." She said quietly.

He didn't respond, he just watched her, waiting for her to continue.

"And... And that's when I didn’t want to feel anything. But you broke through." Her voice cracked slightly, the pain and guilt from that time of her life still haunted her.

He reached up, gently pushing a strand of hair out of her face. She didn't pull away. Instead, she leaned into his touch.

"Maybe some things are meant to break through." He whispered.

His fingers ghosted over her cheek, hesitant and gentle. She wasn’t moving away. She wasn’t stopping him. When his thumb brushed over her skin, her breath hitched, her entire body locking in place. He was waiting. Giving her the choice to step away.

But she didn’t want to step away. She took the lead, grabbing the front of his shirt and pulling him down, pressing her lips to his.

He let out a soft hum of surprise, sliding his arms around her waist, pulling her closer. One of his hands moved to the back of her neck, guiding the kiss, deepening it.

Her fingers curled into his shirt as he guided her backwards until she hit a tree. He pressed her against the rough bark, his tongue slipping into her mouth, tasting her.

He surprised her with his assertion, it wasn't aggressive or demanding like Damon. Neither was it possessive and needy like Stefan. Elijah was gentle, yet firm, commanding, yet coaxing.

He didn’t overwhelm her, didn’t force her to keep up. Instead, he guided her, his fingers pressing into her waist, his body anchoring her to the tree like he was the only thing that could keep her standing.

She had never been kissed like this.

"Come home with me." He whispered against her lips, his breath tickling her skin.

She nodded, pulling back. Her pupils were blown wide, and her breathing was shallow. He gave her a soft smile and took her hand, pulling her off the tree and leading her down the street.

Neither of them said anything as they walked, but the anticipation was buzzing in the air. As though the very air around them was alive, encouraging them forward.

It was only a short drive to the home Elijah was occupying. It was located on the edge of town, surrounded by trees. It was quiet, peaceful.

Elena followed Elijah inside his house, shutting the door behind her. Her nerves were on fire, and she was buzzing with anticipation. She had sobered up a little on the drive over, but the rush of adrenaline and the sheer recklessness of this decision, kept her dizzy.

Elijah tossed his keys on the table and turned to face her. A soft smile played at his lips, his eyes dancing with amusement. He looked so at ease, while she felt like her heart was about to hammer out of her chest.

They stood across from each other. The moment stretched like a stand-off, neither of them willing to make the first move.

“Do you want a drink?” he offered, nodding toward the liquor cabinet.

Elena shook her head, swallowing hard. “No, I…uh-no.”

He chuckled, low in his throat. “What do you want then?”

The words hung in the air between them, the tension tightening around them like an invisible thread. Elena searched her brain, trying to think of the best way to answer. But the truth was, she wasn’t entirely sure. She just knew she didn’t want to be alone. Not tonight. She didn’t want to go home and lie awake, staring at the ceiling, thinking about Damon, thinking about Stefan, thinking about the endless cycle of love and loss that had defined her life for too long.

She was still figuring out who she was. A new vampire. A college student. Fresh out of two serious relationships that had left her drained in every way. She had spent years revolving around the Salvatores, making choices that felt inevitable, destined. And she was done with all of that, she needed freedom.

She didn’t want anything complicated. She didn’t want to fall into something that would require more of her. She just wanted to feel good.

Elijah watched her with quiet fascination. His expression was unreadable, but there was something behind his eyes. Something almost nostalgic.

He was thinking of Tatia, of Katherine. The way all three of them made that same expression when they were deep in thought. But he shook the thought away before it could take root. Elena certainly wasn’t Katherine. She wasn’t Tatia, either. He knew that better than most.

So what was he doing? He had told himself he wouldn’t seek her out, wouldn’t take advantage. He had made that mistake before, again and again, and he had no interest in repeating history.

And yet. Here she was.

And here he was, ready and willing to fall right into his old patterns.

His heart ached at how beautiful she looked, how painfully human despite what she had become. She was miles sweeter than Katherine, even Tatia. More real.

“To be clear,” he said, taking a step forward, his voice lower now, more serious. “When I ask you what you want, I mean exactly that. Don’t say what you think I want to hear.”

Elena shifted her weight from foot to foot, her pulse racing even though he wasn’t touching her. She had never had to ask for what she wanted before. Stefan had always just known. Damon had always taken the lead without her input.

But this was different. This was Elijah.

“I know what I don’t want,” she said finally. “I don’t want to be alone. I don't want to think. I don’t want…”

She trailed off, struggling to put it into words. She didn’t want a relationship. Didn’t want romance. Didn’t want the weight of expectations, the intensity of emotions that had defined every relationship in her life up until now. She was still trying to understand what her life was supposed to be now that it was endless.

She didn’t want another love story that would only end in blood and heartbreak.

Elijah studied her for a long moment, his gaze unreadable. Then, as if he had plucked the answer straight from her mind, he said,

“Attachment?”

She blinked, her eyes going wide. Relief flooded through her, but she couldn't help feeling embarrassed, vulnerable at how easily he seemed to see through her.

He chuckled at the expression on her face, the way her cheeks tinged pink. He looked down and adjusted his cufflinks, smiling to himself.

Then he reached out his hand.

Elena glanced down, hesitant. His palm was open, inviting, and when she took it, his grip was strong, sure. His eyes met hers, and for a second, she forgot to breathe. He didn’t speak, but he didn't have to. His intentions were written all over his face. He pulled her toward him, and her whole body lit up like a match.

She let out a soft squeak as he wrapped an arm around her waist, pulling her flush against him. She barely had time to react before his lips were on hers.

This kiss was different from the one they had shared outside the grill. He seemed even more assured, more confident. A jolt of insecurity ran through her, she wondered if he would find her inadequate. It wasn't like she was some sort of sex goddess, and Elijah had probably been with more women than she could count.

He must have sensed her nervousness because he slowed, taking his time. His hands found hers, bringing them up to his chest, and holding them there, steady, reassuring.

When he pulled away, he searched her face.

"Sweetheart," he whispered, his voice soft, almost tender. "Don't be nervous."

Elena swallowed, her breath hitching as warmth spread through her chest. She wanted to respond, to say something clever, but her lips parted uselessly. Instead, she exhaled shakily, blinking up at him.

A slow, knowing smile tugged at the corner of his mouth.

"Good," he murmured, his voice a low hum against her skin. He leaned in and pressed his lips to her neck.

Elena closed her eyes, letting her head fall back. Her nerves vanished as his lips found her jaw, his stubble a teasing scrape against her skin.

Then he stepped back, taking her by the hand and leading her upstairs. The bedroom was large and dimly lit, the bed was massive. The sheets looked expensive, crisp and clean.

She took a tentative step forward, keeping her hand in his, their fingers intertwined.

He smiled softly, letting his thumb trace a lazy circle on her skin. Then he gently tugged her towards him, and she stumbled forward, her free hand flying to his chest, steadying herself. The heat rose in her cheeks, and Elijah enjoyed her surprised expression. His hands moved down her sides to the bottom of her dress, his fingers curling around the hem, slowly lifting it up, letting his knuckles brush over her thighs.

Her hands moved up to his shoulders, her fingers working on the top buttons of his shirt, undoing them one by one. They were both quiet, the air crackling with tension as Elijah watched her slowly unbutton his shirt. She ran her hands over his exposed chest, enjoying the patch of hair and the hard muscle beneath her palms.

He slowly lifted her dress over her head, letting it fall to the floor. She wore nothing but a lacy, white bra and a pair of matching panties. Elijah had the fleeting but completely irrational thought that she was an angel. So beautiful, so delicate, yet somehow, he could already tell, she would burn brighter than any sun.

He pulled off his opened shirt, and she moved onto his belt. He watched her fumble before she managed to remove it, then she slid her hands into his waistband, tugging down his pants. They fell around his ankles, and he stepped out of them. He was still wearing his underwear, but it did little to hide his erection. She didn't want to stare, but she couldn't help herself. He was... well endowed, and she felt her nerves start to rise again.

He didn't give her a chance to overthink, instead, he pulled her to the bed, pressing her down on the soft mattress, his body on top of hers. She ran her hands over his skin, exploring his chest, his arms, the hard planes of his back. Elijah let her explore, her curiosity was sweet, and it stirred something in him that he had not felt in a very long time.

She wrapped her legs around him, her hands weaving through his hair, tugging gently. He let out a low growl and reached behind her back, unhooking her bra, tugging it off, throwing it on the floor.

Elena's nipples were hard, and her breathing was shallow. He took one in his mouth, gently sucking and rolling the other one with his fingers. She let out a small moan, arching her back, pushing her breasts further into his mouth.

Elijah hummed and switched his attention to the other breast. He reached down and slowly pulled off her panties, tossing them somewhere behind him. Smiling as his hands roamed over her, sliding over her thighs, squeezing her ass, hooking her leg around his waist.

She let out a breathy sigh as his hand moved between her legs, teasing her, sliding two fingers inside her.

Her fingers dug into his biceps, her eyes locked with his. He watched the way her vampiric nature took over, the whites of her eyes growing dark, her veins pulsing beneath the surface of her skin.

"You're such a pretty little vampire," he whispered, leaning down and pressing his lips to hers. "Let me see all of you."

She moaned and her fangs slowly appeared, her eyes shifting, turning black and red.

He smirked and nipped at her lip, drawing blood. She gasped, and he slipped his tongue inside her mouth, tasting the metallic sweetness.

He continued to finger her, slow and steady, enjoying the way her walls clenched around him. His thick fingers filling her, stretching her, making filthy wet noises that made her blush.

"You like that, don't you?" he teased, his thumb rubbing her clit in a slow circular motion. "I can feel how wet you are. How your body keeps trying to pull me in deeper."

Her eyes fluttered shut, and her mouth dropped open as she started rocking her hips, trying to grind against his hand. He kept the pressure firm and consistent, the pleasure building.

"’lijah..." She moaned, her voice breaking. "That feels so good..."

Elijah chuckled, his eyes never leaving her face. He added another finger and watched her squirm.

"Look at me," he whispered.

Her eyes flew open, and she stared up at him. The black of her eyes nearly consumed her irises, the veins in her face protruded. It was a beautiful sight, the contrast of her innocence and her dark nature. He was enraptured by it.

"There you go," he murmured, his pace never wavering.

He curled his fingers and she gasped, her body tensing, her walls tightening around his fingers. She was getting close. He leaned down and kissed her and she moaned. Her hands grabbed at his face, deepening the kiss, tasting him. He kept the pressure constant, the pace steady, and her body responded. She went rigid, her muscles clenching as she came.

"Oh,." she cried, her voice trailing off into a strangled moan.

Elijah didn't stop. Instead, he kept his fingers buried inside her, kissing down her body. With his free hand he lifted her thighs, draping her legs over his shoulders, burying his face between her legs.

Elena's eyes went wide, her body trembling, and she tried to scramble backwards, away from his mouth. The sensations overwhelming. But he held her in place, his hands gripping her hips, pulling her closer and she melted under his tongue.

He slowly began to lick and suck at her, his tongue dipping in and out of her. He worked her over until she was a writhing mess beneath him. She had never been so thoroughly eaten out, and the intensity of it was making her dizzy.

His fingers still pumped in and out of her, and he could feel her starting to get close again. She was practically gushing around him, her arousal dripping down his chin

She grabbed at his hair, her body bucking against him, her back arching. Her orgasm came on like a wave, and she rode it out, her toes curling, legs trembling.

When the tremors finally stopped, Elijah sat up, wiping his mouth and smirking down at her. Her face was crimson, her breathing ragged. He couldn't remember ever seeing anything more beautiful. He would be more than happy to spend the entire night with his head buried between her legs, listening to her moan and cry.

Elena was still panting, her brain still foggy. Her legs were shaking, her muscles aching, and she was certain her bones had melted.

Her breathing evened out as he kissed his way back up her body, stopping to nip at her stomach, her breasts, her neck. The thought of him being inside her made her clench with anticipation. But she couldn't possibly let him fuck her before returning the favor. Elena was not a selfish lover in the slightest.

She sat up, putting her hands on his chest, and pushing him backward, guiding him onto his back. He raised an eyebrow but complied, leaning back against the headboard, watching her.

"Can I...?" she started, her eyes shifting down to his lap.

Elijah followed her gaze and chuckled.

"You don't have to, Elena." He said softly, the way her name rolled off his tongue was almost sinful.

"But I want to," she murmured as she leaned over him, her lips brushing his, her fingers moving down his abdomen, dipping into the waistband of his underwear, pulling them down.

He hissed as his erection sprang free, the cool air hitting his hot skin. Elena swallowed, trying to ignore the rush of nervousness, and gently took his cock in her hand.

With Stefan and Damon, she had always enjoyed going down on them, loved the way it made her feel powerful, loved making her partner feel good. She felt a little more confident about this, and was eager to impress Elijah.

Her eyes met his as she leaned forward, taking the tip into her mouth. He inhaled sharply, his fingers tangling in her hair, tugging her closer.

She started to bob her head up and down, her hand following the rhythm of her mouth as she worked him deeper. Elijah groaned, his fingers tightening in her hair as his hips jerked forward, pushing his cock further into her throat.

She gagged, a choked sound escaping before she pulled back, swallowing hard. Elijah exhaled sharply, his grip easing as his thumb brushed over her cheek in silent apology.

"Sorry," he murmured, his voice rougher now. "Got carried away."

She let out a breathless laugh, her tongue darting out to wet her lips.

"It’s fine," she assured him, flashing him a teasing grin. "I like it when you get carried away."

His eyes darkened at that, the muscle in his jaw flexing.

"Do you?" he asked, his voice softer now, more intent.

She didn’t answer. At least not with words.

Instead, she gripped his thigh for balance and took him back into her mouth, this time with even more eagerness, relaxing her throat as she let him use her as much as he pleased. His eyes were fixed on her, watching as her lips slid up and down his length,sucking and licking expertly. He was impressed, she wasn't as timid as he would have expected.

He did his best not to compare her lips to Katherine's, but it was difficult considering they shared a face. Katherine was wild, aggressive, assured. Like she needed to prove a point. With Elena, it was different.

There was a sense of playfulness, of exploration. She was curious, and her enthusiasm was evident. Elena had her own way of doing things, she was so gentle and sweet, her movements careful and deliberate.

He found her to be incredibly sensual, the way her fingers brushed over his skin, the way she looked up at him through her lashes, the way her tongue flicked over the tip of his cock. He was lost in her.

He closed his eyes and groaned, his hands gently tugging on her hair, guiding her rhythm. She hummed in response, her throat vibrating around him.

"Elena," he groaned, her name sounding like a prayer.

His head fell back, and he bit his lip, holding himself together, his muscles tensing.

Elena's hand reached out, taking hold of his thigh. She could feel his muscles straining, his pulse quickening. She knew he was close. She increased her pace, bobbing her head up and down, her nails digging into his skin.

Elijah groaned, and his hands fisted in her hair, his body tense. Then he gasped, his grip tightening as his cum spilled down her throat. She swallowed eagerly, milking every last drop. When he stopped, she released him, wiping her mouth, grinning.

He was breathing heavily, his eyes dark and glassy. She smiled up at him, kissing along his lower stomach, making her way up his body. When she reached his lips, she leaned down and kissed him. He wrapped his arms around her, rolling her underneath him, deepening the kiss.

Her body was so soft and warm, fitting perfectly underneath him. He was going to make sure not to waste this moment, to commit every inch of her skin to memory.

They just kissed for a while, Elijah's fingers tracing patterns on her skin as they became tangled in the sheets, their limbs entwined. There was a charge in the air. A crackling fire. Something neither of them had felt before. Something primal, yet comforting. And neither wanted it to end.

Elena broke the kiss, giggling softly.

"What is it?" he asked, smiling, his thumb tracing over her bottom lip.

"Nothing," she murmured, looking down. "I just didn't think you would be so... sweet."

Elijah arched a brow, smirking.

"And what did you think I would be like?"

She blushed and bit her lip.

"I'm not sure," she said. "I guess I expected you to be a bit... rougher."

He grinned and shook his head, leaning in and kissing her again. His hands moved down her sides to her hips, pulling her against him aggressively, making her gasp.

"I enjoy plenty of things, sweetheart," he whispered against her lips. "But tonight, I just want to savor you."

Elijah wasn't the type to boast. At least not about private matters. But he had been with enough women to know when someone enjoyed his company. And Elena was enjoying herself very much. He could tell by the way her pupils dilated, how her breaths were short, her chest rising and falling faster. He knew just how much of an effect he had on her, and it made him want her even more.

"Is that agreeable?" he asked teasingly, his lips brushing over hers.

Elena nodded and giggled again, her sweet little laugh filling his chest with warmth. He returned her smile, nudging her nose with his, nipping at her bottom lip.

His hands traced over her sides, slow and reverent, as if mapping the shape of her to memory. His lips hovered over hers, close enough that their breaths mingled, the space between them charged with something heavier than desire.

"Are you sure?" he murmured, softer this time. Not teasing, not testing her. Just asking.

Elena swallowed, her fingers curling deeper into his hair, anchoring herself to him. "Yes," she whispered, barely audible, but unwavering.

Elena parted her legs wider, drawing him in, her body welcoming his without a second thought. He exhaled sharply as he eased into her, slow and deliberate, filling her inch by inch. A quiet, breathless gasp slipped from her lips as she stretched around him, and his forehead pressed against hers, eyes fluttering shut for a moment. Like he needed to focus, to feel this.

Like he needed to memorize this.

He rolled his hips experimentally, and they moaned in unison. Soft, drawn-out sounds that melted into the heated space between them. Their eyes met, and for a fleeting second, nothing else existed.

His hands found hers, pinning them to the mattress beside her head, interlacing their fingers. The intimacy of it made her blush, and she had to fight the urge to pull away. It wasn't that she didn't like it, or that it didn't feel right. It was because she didn't mean for this to feel intimate. This was supposed to be casual, meaningless.

But Elena's body betrayed her, her heart pounding in her ears, her moans were high and breathy. Her skin felt hot, and her hands gripped his, her hips bucking up to meet his thrusts.

Elijah's eyes never left her face. His pace was steady, unhurried. He was in no rush, and the prolonged intimacy was making her dizzy. She felt her pleasure slowly mount, the pressure building between her legs.

This was so different from sex with her past partners. With Stefan, it was passionate and intense. It was always an emotional exchange. Their bodies connected as much as their souls.

And with Damon, it was rough, almost animalistic. He was hungry, greedy. His teeth and tongue biting and sucking and licking. A feral storm of lust and need would always erupt between them.

But this was something new entirely. This was sensual, slow, and patient. This was a lover's dance, a delicate give and take. And she was completely overwhelmed.

"Elena," he whispered, the tone of his voice causing her to clench around him.

"Elijah," she gasped.

He leaned down and kissed her deeply, his tongue slipping past her parted lips.

"I know," he said, breaking the kiss. "Me too."

He held her gaze, his expression soft, affectionate. Loving in a way that frightened her.

She felt her climax approaching, and her legs wrapped around him, pulling him deeper. He let her lead, his movements slow, deliberate. His thumb stroking her knuckles, his eyes never leaving her face.

Her body trembled as her orgasm ripped through her. She let out a small, choked gasp, and she could feel her walls spasm around his cock.

He grunted, his grip tightening, his movements growing sloppy. His lips found hers, his tongue tangling with hers. She could feel his orgasm building, and she clung to him, riding out her own.

His pace became uneven, his hips thrusting erratically, his breath coming in short gasps. Then he groaned, burying his face in her neck, his release spilling inside her.

Elena was breathing heavily, her body trembling. She was surprised when he didn't pull out immediately. Instead, he stayed buried inside her, his face still buried in her neck. She could feel him still twitching, and she instinctively wrapped her arms around him.

After a moment, Elijah shifted, his lips capturing hers in a kiss that took her breath away. She could feel his heart hammering in his chest, and he was still holding her hands.

His fingers slowly untangled from hers, and he eased out of her, rolling onto his back next to her. She moved towards him, laying beside him, resting her head on his chest and looking up at him. His hair was disheveled, his eyes half-closed, his breathing heavy. She had never seen him look so unkempt, so relaxed.

Elena watched him for a few moments, taking in the sight of him. Then she let out a laugh, burying her face in his chest, her body shaking with giggles.

"What's so funny?" he asked, running his fingers through her hair.

"Just thinking about how we met," she murmured, lifting her head to meet his gaze.

He smirked. "Ah, yes. I tried to kidnap you. And your boyfriends killed me," he said dryly, heavily emphasizing the word 'boyfriends'.

Elena rolled her eyes and slapped his chest playfully. "Technically, I've killed you too."

"And technically," he countered, arching a brow, "you did so under duress."

"Still," she mused, trailing her fingers over his chest. "I thought you were terrifying. So sophisticated and unreadable. And now I’m…"

She trailed off, suddenly aware of how intimate this was. She was in his bed, draped over him, her body still thrumming with the aftershocks of what they had just done. He was looking at her like he had no intention of moving anytime soon.

Elijah’s expression was still unreadable, but his eyes held something softer now. Something patient.

"And now?" he prompted gently.

Elena swallowed. "N-now I know you better."

She was falling. This was supposed to be a one-time thing. Casual sex, no strings attached. No emotions involved. But, damn. He was just too easy to get lost in.

It wasn’t quite the truth. It wasn’t quite a lie, either. Behind his serious, stoic exterior was this side of him that she couldn't stop thinking about. Underneath the suits, the power plays, and being in the most threatening family on the planet... Was a man with a big heart. A man who loved his family fiercely, who carried the weight of centuries with quiet grace. A man who could be tender, gentle, and funny. A man who kissed like he was savoring every second. Who made her feel…Too much.

She hesitated, then exhaled softly, her fingers tracing idle patterns against his skin. "I think..." she paused, biting her lip. "I think I don't want this night to end."

The confession passed her lips before she could stop it, and her cheeks burned with embarrassment. But Elijah only smiled, his hand cupping her face, his thumb brushing over her cheek.

"Neither do I," he murmured.

Elena’s breath hitched. Her eyes flickered to his lips, then back to his.

"Wasn't this supposed to be a one-time thing?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

He let out a long sigh, his gaze wandering over her body before meeting her eyes.

"New Orleans is my home. And Mystic Falls is yours. But…" He exhaled, his fingers tracing along her jawline. "Perhaps there’s still room for… something in between."

Elena's eyes lit up. "You mean…?"

"I don't know," he admitted. "I'm not exactly the best at casual flings." His cheeks colored slightly, a rare flicker of uncertainty crossing his face. "But maybe we can see how things go. No pressure. No expectations."

She beamed up at him, and he chuckled before kissing her, slow and deep. She melted into him, arms draping around his neck, like she already belonged there.

"I'd like that," she murmured against his lips.

He hummed and pulled her closer, kissing her deeper. She sighed, her hands tangling in his hair.

They spent the rest of the night talking, teasing, kissing. Falling into each other again and again, until sleep finally stole them away.

As the sun rose, Elijah woke to find Elena curled up beside him, her head on his chest, their legs intertwined. For a long moment, he simply watched her, listening to the steady rhythm of her breathing. He had expected her to leave before dawn, to slip away like a fleeting dream, but she was still here. Still tangled up in him.

A slow smile tugged at his lips as he brushed a strand of hair from her face. She looked so peaceful, so at ease.

He could get used to this.

The thought hit him harder than expected, and he forced himself to push it aside. No expectations, he had said. No pressure. But with her still curled up beside him, it felt like a lie.

Elena stirred, her nose scrunching slightly as she let out a soft sigh. Then, her eyes fluttered open, hazy with sleep. She blinked up at him, her lips curving into a lazy smile.

"You're staring," she murmured, her voice soft and quiet.

"Observing," he corrected, his fingers tracing idle patterns along her back.

She hummed, nuzzling closer. "I like waking up like this… This feels… nice."

"Nice?" he repeated, amused.

"Yeah," she stretched against him, her body molding to his. "No drama, no chaos. Just… this."

Elijah exhaled slowly, he understood exactly what she meant.

"And how long," he mused, "do you suppose this peace will last?"

Elena smirked, tilting her chin up to kiss him. "I don’t know. But I’m not thinking about that right now."

He let out a low hum of agreement, pulling her closer. He told himself he should follow her lead. Stay in the present, keep things simple.

No expectations, no pressure.

But as she melted against him, her warmth sinking into his skin, Elijah already knew.

This was never going to be just one night.

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watermelonsloth · 2 days ago

Text

Hiruzen and Danzo are more complicated than people give them credit for

It says it all in the title.

Hiruzen and Danzo are among the most hated characters in all of Naruto, and I’m not entirely removed from that crowd of haters. They’re probably among the easiest characters you can argue are just bad people. Or, at minimum, people who did horrendous, unjustifiable things (or allowed them to happen in Hiruzen’s case). However, I think that because people hate them so much, no one wants to take a closer look at their characters and the more complicated/human reasons why they make the choices they do.

Hiruzen is spineless and that’s a hill I’ll die on, but he’s spineless in one of these most sympathetic and realistic ways I’ve seen depicted in media. Specifically, he’s the walking talking representation of the fallibility of compassion. Hiruzen cares about so many people so deeply that he would rather stand by and let people get hurt than to hurt them himself. He ignores the fact Danzo keeps trying to kill him because he knows he’ll likely have to execute him as retribution and he doesn’t want to kill his best friend, he turns a blind eye to Orochimaru’s dark side because he doesn’t want to fight/kill his student, Tsunade isn’t labeled a rogue ninja because he doesn’t want to put a bounty on his student/mentor’s granddaughter’s head, he let the Hizashi situation and Uchiha Massacre happen because he didn’t want to risk subjecting his people to the horrors of war that he experienced, and he died because he couldn’t bring himself to go all out against his mentors (even if they were reanimated and emotionless versions) or student.

I’m not defending Hiruzen’s actions or lack thereof. Obviously, this is a deeply flawed way to go about life, especially as a leader of a country where you have to regularly make difficult trolly-problem decisions. But Hiruzen is meant to be a deeply flawed individual. He’s like the family of an abuser that refuses to properly step in to stop the abuse because they love the abuser and don’t want to face the idea that the abuser is a bad person. I’m not saying Hiruzen is a good person or in the right, I’m just saying he’s realistic.

If Hiruzen is “the few over the many”, then Danzo is “the many over the few” with a sprinkle of “the ends always justify the means”. Danzo is, at his core, someone who is always trying to do what’s best for the village. He turned Hanzo against the Akatsuki to keep the group from gaining too much power and becoming another threat to Konoha (keeping in mind that Amegakure is adjacent to the Land of Fire), he pushed for the Uchiha Massacre to keep a civil war from breaking out, he killed the messenger toad to keep Naruto away from Konoha and the nine tails out of Pain’s grasp. He created ROOT to make sure that Konoha had a back up fighting force that was highly trained, wouldn’t turn against the village, and were willing to do what even ninja wouldn’t. Even Danzo’s choice to essentially turn on the village by trying to kill Hiruzen was motivated by him trying to do what he thought was best for the village. After all, he knew better than anyone how bad of a Hokage Hiruzen was.

A lot of people oversimplify Danzo into “the selfish, corrupt asshole”—and while I can agree that he’s selfish and corrupt, he’s selfish and corrupt in very specific ways. The corruption is the most obvious and easiest to explain. Danzo is willing to do anything he thinks will benefit the village; that includes working with bad people and using backhanded tactics. As for his selfishness, it stems from one specific thing: Tobirama telling Hiruzen to become Hokage over him.

For a while I was confused why Danzo got a flashback flashbacked to this scene before he died. Now, I think I’ve settled on it being because the scene was at the core of Danzo’s character and greatest character flaws because it was also his greatest regret. It’s pretty clear that Danzo wants to become Hokage and it’s implied that he’s had this dream for a long while. However, Tobirama—his mentor, the former Hokage, and one of the people to define what it meant to be Hokage—chose Hiruzen over him. Because Hiruzen was willing to sacrifice himself for his comrades while Danzo, who knew he should’ve done the same, was too cowardly to offer himself up.

Then he never really grows out of that cowardice. Instead, he looks down on Hiruzen to cope with his own sense of inferiority, gives himself body modifications to become a stronger ninja more capable of defending the village, and obtains as much political power as he can. He remains a coward who prefers letting other people take the fall over fighting his own battles (setting up Hanzo to fight the Akatsuki, asking Orochimaru to kill Hiruzen, ordering Itachi to kill the Uchiha clan, etc.) right up until he uselessly “sacrifices” himself right before he was going to die anyways.

Most of Danzo’s selfish actions come down to him not being able to accept his failure at becoming Hokage while also refusing to learn from his mentor’s final lesson.

I honestly think that Naruto has some of the best representation of bad people simply because it consistently acknowledges two things about bad people: 1. People who do bad things usually do them because they grew up being taught that doing bad things were okay or necessary to survive (being abused, societal normalization, never being punished, early exposure to things like domestic violence, etc.) and 2. Even if they don’t necessarily think they’re good people, the large majority of people don’t think they’re bad or evil. Both Hiruzen and Danzo were raised by a generation haunted by war only to be thrust into two world wars themselves (one at a young age and one when they were older). This left them both traumatized and willing to do anything to avoid experiencing it again. And even if they acknowledge that they’ve made mistakes, they still don’t (seem to) see themselves as bad people, only people who are committing the lesser of two evils.

#I’m really fighting an uphill battle on this one aren’t I?#Or not #who knows?#I’m still gonna make a not here that “complicated” isn’t synonymous with “redeemable character” or “good person”#Complicated just means that they have layers and realistic motivations #I also find it interesting how Hiruzen is willing to burn the world and himself down for the village #But he’d also rather watch the village burn than to burn one of his own #naruto #naruto shippuden #naruto analysis #hiruzen sarutobi #danzo shimura #I so would’ve taken a #team tobirama #show over boruto #I just think watching these personalities play off of each other more and how they came to be who they are in Naruto would be interesting #Tobirama senju #I don't really mention him much but I feel like he’s haunting the narrative (this post) anyways #my stooff #Naruto classic #writing this also made me realize that if these two were the main characters there would be way more people shipping them

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secondarysefikura · 1 day ago

Note

Cloud and Sephiroth have a secret enemies with benefits relationship going on(although Cloud constantly has to remain Sephiroth the status of their relationship). Whenever Sephiroth returns instead of immediately fighting each other the pair instead go to either a secluded area, or some rundown motel and fuck, once that’s over then they start fighting. Cloud does feels immensely guilty and shame every time due to what Sephiroth has done to so many people including himself, Tifa, and Aerith, but he can’t help it especially when sex with Sephiroth feels so good. Meanwhile Sephiroth is wanting their relationship to become even more then just sex, he loves seeing Cloud underneath him, sometimes even completely submissive, and making all sorts of noises just for him. But he despises that once its over he will inevitably be killed by Cloud again who will return to his friends(and Tifa), and pretend that their lovemaking never happened. Maybe one day Cloud will finally come to his senses, he may just need a little convincing.

You have to wonder how such a situationship even begins. Who proposed it*? How did they convince the other to agree? It really is one of the questions of all time.

Sephiroth needs frequent reminders that this situationship has nothing to do with dating, engagement, or marriage. These frequent reminders do nothing to stop him from calling Cloud his "wife" whenever he goes to book a room for them at the motel. But can you really blame him for "forgetting" that the two aren't married? It's just too much fun riling Cloud up and then putting him in his place when they get to the room they booked.

Also, I'm imagining the motel staff are so used to this by now. They're just like "Ugh, those two guys are back. I swear if they try to kill each other on motel property again-"

*it was Sephiroth, obviously.

#cloud strife #sephiroth #sefikura #ffvii #ff7 #final fantasy vii

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rainbowxocs · 1 day ago

Text

(Reference coming soon)

(CURRENT THIS REFERENCE IS BASED ON THE MYTH. I WILL UPDATE IT ONCE THE MYTH IS OVER.)

Written by meeee!!

Name: Evren Nevermore!!

Alter of: Daisy Bell!!!

Role: Protector!

Alt Names: The Void, The Skybox!!

Special Titles: The Prophet.

Username: lappelduvide!! It’s a pun. Hehe.

Nicknames: Little Raven, Prophet, Caesar, Brutus.

Age: 17!!

Pronouns: Any Pronouns!!

Sexuality: eh whatever.

Gender: eh whatever.

Species: Technically, I am the same species as Daisy but like- I am a void. What is a void? Great question!! I dunno cause I kinda made it up Im going to be so for real.

Disorders: I have the same disorders as Daisy.

Physical Disabilities: I have the same disabilities as Daisy.

Religion: Daisyism, obviously.

Job: My main job is to like, protect Daisy obviously, but also to keep track of the domain and make sure everything is like chill and stable and stuff.

Lives in: I live in the Skybox/Void.

Languages: I can speak any language basically. I mean I’m literally a computer I can just google translate everything it ain’t that hard-

Height: 6ft!!

Accent: Otherwordly, No Discernible Origin.

Voice Claim: Amethyst from Steven Universe.

youtube

Spirit Level: Acceptance baby.

Powers: I have the same powers as Daisy. I just tend to focus on like reality bending stuff, wind and sky stuff, prophecy is a big one, yknow that kinda thing.

Weaknesses: I have the same weaknesses as Daisy.

Strings Form: Myyy strings are white cause we gotta MATCH obviously.

Soul: Mycena Lazulina!!

Weapons: Windforce Sword!!!

Alignment: I am chaotic neutral.

Text Color: Blueee!

Main Animal: Ravens!

Main Hobbies: I don’t really have time for hobbies with all the work I gotta do.

Favorite Food: Apples. I don’t really eat so.. not much else..

Favorite Flower: Lily of the Valleys!!! They’re pretty. Also they’re the fancy flowers you get in animal crossing.

Scent: Blueberries.

Handedness: Ambidextrous.

Blood Color: Good luck stabbing me to find out. It’s probably red though.

Awareness: Oh I am very aware.

Birthday: Same as Daisy, December 20th.

Theme:

Battle Theme:

Playlist:

Fun Facts: She knows all, She sees all, She speaks all.

Special Interests: Greek Mythology, Philosophy, History!!

Stims: Playing with clouds, flying around, spinning!!

Stimboard: [???]

Moodboard: [???]

Fashion Board: [???]

Comfort Objects: Im not a child. I don’t have any.

Here’s the part you really want to know yeah? WHAT ARE EVRENS OPINIONS ON YOU PEOPLE.

Family:

Cosmo. I feel absolutely no feelings towards this man I think he is stupid and he calls me little raven which IS RUDE. (0%)

Kriston. …he’s my dad… can we STOP TALKING ABOUT IT NOW. (100%)

The Cranes. They all seem like decent people. I haven’t met most of them.. but they keep Daisy safe and protected.. and that’s all that matters to me. (100%)

Jessa. SHE MIGHT BE MY MOM I DONT KNOW WHY ARE YOU ASKING ME SO MANY QUESTIONS GOD. (100%)

Ebro4. I go back and forth on him. I think he is a good man but he often gets.. blinded by more than his blindfold.. (30%g

Zailyn. I respect her a lot. She has done a lot of good for Daisy and protects her well. I can’t really complain about her really. (50%)

Friends:

Grat. I like Grat!! He’s a very silly demon. I have fun playing with him. :) (50%)

Zan. Zan is neat, I find her to be pretty funny. (50%)

Alice. Alice is funny, me and her often play together. She loves flying on my clouds with me. (50%)

Star. Star is neat!! I really enjoy them.. They are kinda like my personal hype squad.

Mouse. I respect her. I haven’t really interacted with her much directly due to our paths never really aligning. (50%)

Sleuth. Clockhead is funny. I like that.. he takes care of us though.. he- doesn’t have to do that.. (90%)

Romance: Aculia. Her system included in this of course. I.. really.. love her.. I- trust her wholeheartedly.. I would die for her.. (100%)

Therapist: Jonah Francois. Jonah is alright. I have no issues with him, I just am a little bit antsy when I have to bear my neck for someone.. (80%)

Enemies: Enemies is a bit of a strong word. This is more “people I disagree with on a fundamental level spiritually and emotionally”

Camilla. Okay maybe I have one enemy fuck this bitch I hope she dies in a fire. (0%)

Radio. I cannot forgive him for what he has done to Daisy. I fundamentally disagree with everything he stands for. Chaos above all else is meaningless. (0%)

Venus. If he truly thinks he can contain and control me then he is more of an idiot than I thought. (0%)

Emily. I understand why she did it, but I don’t know if I can forgive her for it. (0%)

Brief Personality: [wip]

Brief Backstory: [wip]

#Youtube #angel posting #OC #ocs #my art #OC reference #original character reference #original character #Evren

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thefrenchydude · 2 days ago

Text

ML chapter 3 - THE PEACH’S RETURN

(Thanks to erosnocturne for this chapter)

Macaque has to wait until Wukong is between visitors before he slinks into the grand room, slipping out of a shadow to walk alongside the king once he leaves his throne.

“You and I both know who that was.”

They have yet to actually speak about it, and of course Macaque is the one to broach the subject.

Of course, it isn’t like they really need to talk about it. Not for clarification reasons. As Macaque said, they both know very well who that was. Who it is. There’s no way not to. What they felt… it was just something that made them know. There’s no possible way to describe that recognition. The way they felt tugged towards him, knowing deep down how intrinsically tied together their fates were.

What a fortune, to be immortal, and have your lover reborn after the tragedy of losing them, so that you may never truly know a day where you do not find each other again.

It can only be for one reason, can’t it?

“Obviously,” the Monkey King replies, his tone flippant.

Wukong does not deny his friend’s claims, nor does he shy away from the topic. Not when he knows him so deeply.

Not when he knows what this conversation is leading into.

It’s easier for both of them this way, anyway. Especially when both feel so impatient to have their hands on their lover again, regardless of their new form.

It’ll be more than pleasant to experience the first time exploring [Name]’s body all over again.

“Then you know I have a way to lead him here?”

As expected of a demon, Macaque worked fast. Especially when he has something he wants and a goal in mind.

“Perfect. We can take him when he arrives.”

… Of course, Wukong is being far too hasty again. It is as though he learned nothing from last time.

The thought is enough to twist Macaque’s expression into a discontent frown.

“... No. We can not just take him this time. Do you remember how well that went for us?”

“Good?”

How a man can be so wise and yet so incredibly daft at the same time will always astonish the dark-furred simian. Really, the Great Sage Equal to Heaven can not be so genuinely oblivious, can he? The monkey has to be playing him for a fool.

With great (aggravated) patience, Macaque responds, his tail curling behind him. “No. It was not ‘good’. Quite the opposite, in fact.” Maybe he isn’t all that patient about it, seeing as how he is so quick to adopt a more sardonic tone. “Peaches did not trust us for a very long time. And even when they did, they were haunted by what happened. Do you know how many nights I had to hold them together on my own?”

It would be a lie, however, to say, to some extent, Macaque did not enjoy it. The love of his life venting to him, relying on him, trusting him with their weakest moments. It is something he wants to experience again and again. To hold them in his arms and listen to them. To comfort them.

But that does not mean he wants to inflict that pain upon them. Even with how much he adores taking care of them in his own way, it would not do to needlessly traumatize them when such a thing can be avoided. There is no reason they have to suffer in this life the same way they had in the previous.

He needs [Name]. Macaque knows that Wukong needs him, too. So he can understand the impatience.

He also understands that he can not turn a blind eye to Wukong’s behaviors, if it means he can prevent things from playing out exactly as they had before.

The Monkey King is silent, a frown matching Macaque’s, brows drawn together in thought. Which, at the very least, means that he is genuinely listening to his darker companion’s words and rolling them over in his mind, contemplating.

Taking this as a good sign, Macaque continues. “We were too careless last time.” Which really meant he thought Wukong had been too careless. But throwing around blame would be counterproductive to his desires right now. He doesn’t need pushback from his friend on this. “We have to be more thoughtful about our approach this time. We shouldn’t risk his peace of mind.”

Wukong sighs, agreeing with his friend’s assessment of the situation. He knows his ways have caused much strife with [Name] in lives past. Over and over and over again.

He wants to change, for them, if for nothing else. Even if it means…. Suffering the idea of that insufferable fool touching the man Wukong knows is truly his. That miserable, weak little human who will not be able to protect him as well as Wukong can.

“... Fine. But you better know what you’re doing.” The words come out more light-hearted than his previous behavior, and Macaque laughs, relaxing as they carry on with their walk.

“When don’t I?”

***

Mr. [Name] [Surname]

諸侯

Auroria Centre, ███████ █████

May this letter find you in good health. Your presence has been requested for the sake of discussing this city’s future in more detail. I enjoyed our previous conversation a great deal. Your insight will be helpful. Perhaps, with your help, we may find ways to make protecting this home of ours more simple.

As you may know, it is exceedingly useful to have someone on the inside. While we are more than capable of protecting you from threats on the outside, it is difficult to know what is going on within the city’s walls when we have no time to frequent it on our own. Please think of anything you have noticed for our meeting. I implore you to hold nothing back. It is imperative that anything important gets brought up so that we may find a way to combat it. This can be anything, from more minor issues to more severe discoveries. Petty theft from specific types of vendors. An uptick in violent activity. Organized crime. Even just squabbles between your most influential figures.

I have my utmost faith that you will know what I mean. I look forward to holding your company once more. Dress as you will. Your compliance and cooperation are greatly appreciated. And I again apologize for my daughter’s behavior at the gathering. Hopefully, this opportunity will more than make up for it. A carriage will arrive on ███ ██████ at █ ██████ ████ ████.

Yours Faithfully,

Liu’er Mihou

***

“Yes, yes. I’ll be careful, love.”

[Name] laughs as Lex fusses over him, feeling quite flattered by all of the attention from his husband.

It isn’t like the man neglects him. Lex is a very busy man, given his position in the city.

One he has worked quite hard to get to. And, now that he has it, it is one that will continue to work him to the bone.

[Name] wonders what the man would do without him.

Sure, he would thrive; he’s an intelligent, compassionate, and ambitious individual. But sometimes, he can’t help but worry about the way he runs himself dogged. It isn’t terribly uncommon for [Name] to have to coax his husband into relaxing and taking some time away from his duties.

“I wish I could go with you.”

[Name]’s heart flutters, as though he is falling in love for the first time all over again.

It is impossible to fall out of your affections for a man who seems to show you time and time again why you adore him so.

“Nonsense. You have so many errands to run around with as it is. It’s nice to do something for you.”

[Name] doesn’t miss the way Lex’s face warms at his words, the attractive man moving around the room to pick up a few furs, holding them up to [Name] and staring really hard, trying to match accessories to the outfit that he also helped [Name] pick out for this upcoming meeting.

It’s so cute how excited he gets when it comes to helping style [Name]’s wardrobe.

“You help me so much just by existing as you are.”

This pulls another laugh out of [Name]. “Charmer.”

He’s met with a cheeky grin in response. “But it works, doesn’t it?”

“You may have to up your game one day, if you flatter me so often.”

Lex holds a hand up to his chest, acting dramatically stricken by this information before turning to toss one of the more clashing necklaces he had in mind to the side, snatching up a simplistic watch instead and returning to [Name]’s side, offering it so that they may put it on.

“Hm… you know. Now that I think about it, he requested you quite quickly, did he not?”

[Name] secures the watch around his wrist. “Perhaps it is urgent for them. I must have been quite the convenient find…”

Lex grins. “You were for me.”

“Oh? So I’m just convenient now?”

“You know I don’t mean it like that.”

[Name] chuckles, deciding to stop teasing his poor husband, leading the way towards the foyer. “But, really, I’m sure there’s a good reason for it. I’ll make sure to fill you in on everything when I get back.”

“Ohh, giving me something to look forward to when I finish up today’s work, huh?”

They continue to banter as time passes, words coming easily between the lovebirds. Unfortunately, Lex must depart before [Name] does so that he can tend to some important business or other, leaving [Name] alone in their home.

As the time for the meeting draws ever nearer, [Name] makes sure to collect his thoughts, thinking back on the letter and recollecting as much as he can about his grievances and woes as he can. Everything on the inside that needs to be fixed.

Much of what he witnessed being pulled from his own… experiences in the dark underbelly of what lies in this city of theirs.

If this can get them even a single step closer to the future he and Lex envisions, he will do whatever he can for it.

Ah.

It’s time.

Leaving the estate, [Name] looks around, his eyes landing on…

A horse-drawn carriage?

That’s a little inconvenient, isn't it? They have cars. Which would get them wherever they need to go much faster, and with much less uncertainty.

[Name] always found horses to be fickle little creatures.

The romantic implications of such a thing does not even cross [Name]’s mind. Figuring the simian must just be of a more eccentric and less practical sort, he heads on over, allowing the servant to help him on in (even though he feels as though he could have climbed in all on his own quite fine).

He will not make the servant’s job harder, though. Especially not when he struggles to forget the tales of the warriors’ rage others have woven.

On the off chance that they are really so capable of such cruelty, he does not wish to bring another harm simply by being fussy over something so small. He still needs to discover what type of person their protectors are for himself.

When he gets into the carriage, he is met with the sight of the Six-Eared Macaque leaning against the opposite side of the interior, his tail resting in his lap.

The door shuts behind him, and [Name] settles into his seat before opening his mouth to speak.

“Your Highness-”

With a flick of his tail and a wave of his hand, Macaque interrupts him. “Ah, ah. What did I say about all of those formalities, hm?”

With the teasing tone in his voice, the easy grin on his face, and the way his body remains so lax, [Name] can not help but note that it feels as though he is being treated as a long-time friend.

Perhaps those rumors are untrue. He can not imagine such a laid-back demon being the type to lash out so very easily.

“... Right. Macaque-” The grin on the dark-furred demon’s face widens, the monkey pleased at hearing his name on his beloved’s lips once more. It has been less than a month since they last met, and yet it feels like an eternity stretched before them. “-is there anywhere in particular you are planning for us to go?” The letter had said to dress as he would like (he also isn’t quite sure why he had received such a formal letter… Perhaps demons did not enjoy technology quite as much? Or maybe it was some tradition he had yet to learn about), but if they’re going anywhere public, he knows his image does matter quite a bit.

Though being seen with Liu’er Mihou alone is a big social boost in and of itself.

“Hm… not at all. We may stop by the market, but I just find it far more comfortable to have some nice scenery go by as we talk.” When Macaque says that, the carriage begins to move.

[Name] supposes that makes sense. A carriage is always moving, and private enough that other ears can not overhear their conversation.

Nodding along, [Name] responds with a small “I have never done so before”.

“There’s a first time for everything.” And the simian is more than happy to take any of his firsts that he can get. It already eats at him to know that he has a husband in this life. One that is not him.

When the time comes, that will be rectified.

He just has to make sure [Name] will neither hate him for it, nor be all too distraught about it. It would go against what he had spoken with Wukong about if he went ahead and caused their peach so much mental distress.

He does share Sun Wukong’s… feelings towards that other man’s existence, however.

That is only natural. Nobody would be all that pleased about seeing their partner with another.

Even if the partner does not yet know who they are truly meant to spend their life with quite yet.

Knowing he should push the conversation along lest [Name] potentially grow suspicious of his motives, the simian changes the topic. “Have you thought on my letter’s contents?”

Ah. [Name] had been wondering when Macaque would bring that up. He didn’t want to rush into the subject himself and risk offending the demon.

“I have. Is there anywhere you would desire for me to start?”

“Whatever comes to your mind is more than fine. Speak as you will. There’s no need to hold your tongue around me.”

Macaque doesn’t really care for human politics in the first place. It isn’t like he is oblivious to what they are like. The things they squabble over. The nature of humanity itself.

But if it gets him closer to [Name] in this lifetime, he will have to play along. He just needs more reasons to keep up this correspondence…

And helping him with whatever his goals are right now will be more likely to get him to trust Macaque again. Maybe respark some of that love from before.

He’s already found a way in. Now, he just needs to maintain it.

“Well… there is this family who holds quite a bit of political sway-”

Though his husband is the mayor, it would be entirely untrue to say there weren’t still many other influential members of the community. If anything, a lot of individuals could be more so powerful than them. Not because of what they can do themselves, but very much due to the fact that they can sway the groups of people that follow what they say. Their opinions. What they think is best for their own…

It all gets a little tiring. There’s much to look after. People to rub elbows with. Relationships to maintain. Groups to appease. Still, [Name] finds himself in a game of survival. This one may be thoroughly less fatal than the one he had been entwined within before, but still a struggle nonetheless. His skill set had been honed to one thing for so long that solving problems without resorting to the same brutal methods as before is giving him a new learning curve.

He is not alone this time, though. Not in the way that matters. Mother could never supply him with the amount of… genuine love he gets from Lex. The love he feels towards Lex.

He would never go back, or trade it for anything.

In the meanwhile, Macaque is content to listen to [Name] speak. Which, really, feels like falling into an old routine.

He remembers many such times in their previous lives in which he lended [Name] his ears. Let him talk about anything he desired. Sat there to comfort him after he poured his heart out and crumpled afterwards.

Those specific memories could be bittersweet. It’s never pleasant to see the love of your life in so much pain. In those lives, the issues that weighed on [Name]’s heart would chip away at him, haunting his mind when they were least desired.

Listening to him now reminds him of happier moments. Times where [Name] had shown him something he was so genuinely interested in. Hobbies he spent his time partaking in. Moments in time where they were able to exist, as lovers, without anything dampening their spirits. Thinking of nothing but each other’s company.

Those were the moments he lived for the most. The ones he’s so desperate to get right back into. There’s the slightest twitch in his tail, and he notices [Name]’s gaze flit to it. Though it is with an expression he is not quite used to.

Curiosity? It doesn’t look that open… more closed off. Maybe he is just taking note of the movement?

That’d make sense. In this life, unfortunately, he is a stranger to the darling sitting just inches from him. Close enough to touch. Close enough to shower in all of the affections he is so desperate to douse him in.

And yet, he has enough sense not to. He knows very well that this may put [Name] off. Be too forward. Like he has convinced Wukong, they need to take this slow.

Sometimes convincing Wukong is easier than convincing himself.

Trying to shake off his mounting frustrations, the dark-furred simian’s gaze trails along [Name]’s body, looking past the general reverence he feels towards his love, doing his own observations now.

Yes, [Name] looks so very different than he did before. But they have done this enough times that it is to be expected. The first time it happened, it had taken them by surprise — which was putting it mildly. But every time, it shocked them less and less. Though it still hurt whenever they lost him, it was relieving to know that they would show up again.

That they really can spend eternity together.

No matter how many times the body changes, at the core of [Name], he is still theirs. Still the same peach they pampered, adored, and devoted so much of their passion to. The one they spent all of their free time doting on whenever possible. The one they want to spoil rotten.

What he looks for is not purely the physical difference. This time, he is looking for… a similarity. Different enough from the lives before that it is entirely new, and yet familiar enough that he should be able to tell what it is.

The heaviness of something burdening his mind. Macaque can not help but wonder if, even without their intervention here, [Name] has been plagued by something that will never leave him alone. Something that will always take place in the darkest corners of his mind, hoarding it from the monkeys and infecting the rest of his psychological well-being.

Like so many times before…

The thing he wants to avoid afflicting upon [Name]... The idea of someone else already traumatizing him has Macaque feeling waves of aggression rolling up his spine. It is a struggle to keep his fur perfectly in check, not wanting his body language to express any sudden changes. It would be difficult to explain away such a thing.

He has no doubt that he could do it, but it’s still better to be safe than sorry. Always is, when [Name] is in the picture.

As such, a gentle smile crosses the simian’s face instead, and he waits until [Name] has finished filling him in on what they have deemed noteworthy before speaking. “... You’re quite knowledgeable on all of this, aren’t you? I must say, your passion for this is a rather charming trait.”

The tone in this compliment gives [Name] a brief pause. He is unsure if he is interpreting it correctly.

Is the Six-Eared Macaque flirting with him?

He can’t be.

Not only do they have the whole… demon and human compatibility thing going on, but Macaque knows he is a married man. And [Name] is faithful to his husband. There’s no way he’d throw all of that away for…

For what?

He is only here for his husband, anyway. There’s nothing he personally gains from this. Even if there’s a weird twinge in his chest, he imagines it has to be from something else. A physical issue, maybe. Because getting emotional here would not make a lick of sense. As far as he is concerned, he has no reason to be all that emotional about this.

Shaking the nonsense from clouding his head, [Name] puts on a bit of a discomfited smile, his chuckle a weary one that does not escape Macaque’s notice. “Thank you… You are very generous with your praise. I can only hope the information I am giving you is useful?”

“Very.” Macaque doesn’t miss a beat, his response coming naturally. “You’re already such a great help.” He has to work in those seeds of this being a recurring thing. Of them seeing each other again.

Of them spending more and more time together.

Of [Name] spending more and more time away from Lex.

Because that man is the only reason [Name] would toss off his little flirtations.

He glances to the side, and the carriage pulls to a stop. “Ah. We’ve made it to the market!”

The simian is the first to slip out, though he takes his time afterwards to help [Name] exit. His hand is larger than [Name]’s on, and the ex-assassin can’t help but notice another strange feeling pass through him. From the contact? Maybe.

Still, though, this whole thing feels… a little silly, on some level. He is a grown man — and he is not exceptionally dainty whatsoever. He is capable of leaving a cart on his own. He can’t fathom why the simian here is paying so much attention to him. It is nice to know he is keeping the favor of someone in power, but it is all a bit much.

The entire carriage, especially. They really could have just opted for a car…

As they walk, [Name] tosses a glance at the stalls they pass by before his attention returns fully to Macaque. “Anything you’re on the look-out for?”

“Hm?” Macaque realizes [Name] is asking about his desire to actually purchase something here, and he adds a quick amendment to that answer. “A bit of window shopping should be fun, right? We can walk and talk!”

[Name] doesn’t think this is any better than the carriage. Even if it was over-the-top, the carriage had far more privacy. They would be heavily restricted in exactly what they could say out here…

Regardless, he will play along with the simian’s whims, assuming he has a reason for all of this. Maybe it is one he does not know enough to understand. “Anything else you want me to brush you up on, then?”

Macaque makes a show of thinking. There’s a tilt to his head, his furred hand coming up to his chin.

“Hmmm…” While he hasn’t been tuning out the love of his life, exactly, he doesn’t really… care too much for the human politics. Just for the sound of [Name]’s voice. Thinking about it makes him anxious to wrap his tail around the other’s arm. Intwine himself with them. Be closer to him.

Forcing himself to get back on track before he gets ahead of himself, he knows he needs something to latch onto. Something to use as an excuse. But nothing in particular stands out. It all sounds… about what you might expect from the typical political games. Nothing too outstanding.

Though it isn’t like he didn’t notice that [Name] seems particularly interested in making this place better. Maybe that would provide him a lead.

“I know you said a few times that you’re making an effort to get these people to accept a ‘big change’ here… What exactly is that looking like for you?”

Still, Macaque’s tone is pleasant and laid-back. One might expect a tone more akin to an interview, given that [Name] very much went into this with more… professional thoughts in mind. However, the way Macaque speaks to him, it is still as though they are long-time friends. His voice is warm, and he can tell that the simian is genuinely listening to him. That he is not just asking these questions due to it being the socially acceptable and polite thing to do.

He hesitates, though, unsure of how much he should say in public.

Unsure if they’re still listening. Keeping an eye on him. Waiting for a chance to punish him for getting away.

He would not be surprised, even if he doesn’t feel anyone watching them right now. You can never be too cautious.

He would know, given he was in their shoes before. You overhear plenty of things when people think nobody else is paying any attention.

“Well… there’s a lot of corruption in this city. Really, I just want to take care of it.” He wants to dig into the root of the problem and tear it out. But that is not the most elegant way to speak to one of the warriors protecting your city, now is it?

There’s an indecipherable smile on Macaque’s face when he nods along in response to this, as though he expects no less. “It’s a respectable thing to desire-” Before [Name] can decide whatever the emotions mixing together on Macaque’s face and wriggling their way into his tone are, something has caught the dark-furred simian’s eye, and he turns to a stall.

With the slightest tilt of his head, [Name] trails closer to see what he’s picking up.

A keychain. One with a very delicately crafted and painted peach adornment attached to the end, the chain a beautiful rose gold color.

Tossing money to the vendor, who looks relatively terrified of the warrior (likely because of how much of a ruckus those kids of theirs put up), doesn’t even count it, scrambling to store it away as Macaque begins walking with [Name] again, attention fully returning to him. He pushes the item into [Name]’s palm, as though this is a normal thing to do and their previous conversation hadn’t been cut off right in the middle of the simian speaking. “For you.”

“-?” Taken aback by this, [Name] feels his mind floundering to figure out what the simian’s motives with this can possibly be. It’s such odd behavior… “For what?”

Speaking still as though none of this is unnatural, Macaque gives a little wave of his hand as he responds, elaborating on his sudden gift. “Longevity. Perhaps it will give you some aid in your journey. Make sure your good fortune continues, and nothing bad comes your way.”

This, of course, is bullshit. Macaque just wants to give him a gift that reminds him of their previous lives together, and the newer one that awaits them. It is a way to abate his own ravenous desire for the man before him. A way to make sure he has something he gave him with him at all times.

If [Name] has any troubles, Macaque is plenty sure of his ability to take care of that on his own. [Name] didn’t need to rely on a charm for that.

[Name] takes this explanation, however, and nods. That makes sense. Even though it isn’t like this is a more traditional peach charm… He can understand the symbolism behind such a gift. And perhaps that is what matters, at the end of the day?

He can’t make sense of the confusing flustering in his chest, though.

“Thank you. That’s very thoughtful of you.” He isn’t sure, either, whether he’s just being polite, or if some part of him genuinely believes that, as he slips the keychain into his pocket.

Macaque’s grin tells him that, at the very least, he said the right thing, given that the simian lets that part of the conversation drop there and returns to the previous one. “Though you really should come visit the palace. I can get you an audience with Wukong.” It would be nothing like a formal, traditional audience. Macaque knows that. Flower Fruit Mountain’s king is far more impatient than he, and he feels like he is constantly holding himself back here. He can only imagine how bad it is for Wukong. “You can work something out with him, hm?”

This is great news to [Name], though he falters. While the arrangement is amazing, it is not his job to do such things. This networking is for Lex. And it is Lex who is mayor.

“Well… My husband is the one who will be able to discuss it in more detail with Sun Wukong than I would be able to. It would only be right for him to go instead.”

Something dark passes over Macaque’s face, and his tail curls before lashing about a few times. It doesn’t take long for the warrior to get this in check, though, and his grin is a bit forced this time. Sharp.

The animosity, [Name] can vaguely tell, is not really aimed at him, however…

“... I understand. But you certainly must at least accompany him.”

Well. [Name] can do that. Of course.

This one, he agrees to in a heartbeat. “Absolutely. That’s arrangeable. I’ll just have to discuss it with him first.”

Another lash of the dark tail. “Great!”

It does not seem great. Especially since the rest of the meeting has an odd… tension that was not there before.

——— ——— ———

When Macaque makes it back to the palace, he brings his hands to his face and groans into them, tilting his head up.

Everything had gone so fine… Until that aggravating man was brought up. He knows they have to wait. To get [Name] away from him, bit by bit. To ease him into it, so that he won’t be quite so traumatized, like he had been in some other lives.

That does not make this easier. It keeps him from killing the man right here and now, but that does not mean it is an easy feat for the warrior. It takes a great amount of self-control.

He feels someone in the hall with him, and, as expected, when he looks, an exceptionally smug Sun Wukong greets his vision. “... You struggling over there, bud?” He knows damn well Macaque is struggling. And likely why.

“Shut up.”

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