#zmxchs

➤ Summary: When you arrive in New Orleans to settle your late grandmother’s affairs, you never expected to be swept into the supernatural politics of the French Quarter—or to meet a man like Elijah Mikaelson. ➤ Warning: Mild supernatural elements, suggestive romantic tension, mentions of blood (typical for The Originals setting). Fluff-heavy. ➤ Word Count: 1,030

The city smelled like sweet decay—jasmine, old brick, and something darker woven through the air like shadowed thread. You stepped out of the cab with your suitcase in one hand and your grandmother’s worn leather journal in the other. She’d left you a key to her apartment above Royal Street and a list of “important names to avoid.”

You hadn't believed in her stories. Not really. But now, standing in the heart of the French Quarter with the sun slipping below the rooftops, you felt watched.

The iron-gated courtyard was still when you entered. Ivy curled like tendrils over stone and lanterns glowed softly, despite no visible source of power. You found her door, unlocked it, and stepped into her world. The scent of cloves and old paper greeted you.

You didn’t expect a knock at the door within the hour.

You opened it cautiously—and froze.

The man before you was impossibly composed. A charcoal gray suit hugged his tall form like it had been tailored for his very bones. His dark eyes scanned you with the kind of quiet intensity that made your lungs forget how to work.

“Elijah Mikaelson,” he said smoothly, as if that explained everything.

You blinked. “I’m sorry…?”

He offered a subtle smile. “I was acquainted with your grandmother. She was a friend to our family… in her own way.”

“Our?”

“Elijah,” came a voice from behind him—careless and clipped. Another man stepped into view, blond, scruffy, dangerously charming in that storm-before-the-fight way. “You’re scaring the poor girl.”

Elijah didn’t so much as flinch. “I believe she’s more curious than afraid.”

You should have shut the door. You should’ve called the police or told them to leave. But your body betrayed you, rooted to the ground by the sheer force of him—Elijah. His presence was gravity.

“What do you want?” you asked.

“I only wished to welcome you to New Orleans.” His eyes softened, something respectful yet terribly ancient hiding in their depths. “And to offer you protection, should you find yourself… overwhelmed.”

You scoffed. “Overwhelmed by what?”

The blond one smirked. “Oh, she’s going to be fun.”

“Elijah,” you repeated, testing the name on your tongue. “Why would I need protection?”

His gaze flickered—just enough to know he was choosing what not to say. “Because your grandmother kept company with monsters. And some of them remember her.”

You thought about the stories she told you as a child—witches, wolves, vampires with endless lives and deeper hungers. They’d been fairy tales.

Until tonight.

“Let me guess,” you said, voice steadier than your racing pulse. “You’re one of them?”

He inclined his head, almost reverent. “I am.”

And you believed him.

Elijah didn’t push inside. He didn’t offer a warning or a threat. Just a business card, thick and elegant, with his name embossed in gold. You took it with trembling fingers.

“If you ever need assistance,” he said, “call me.”

“Why?” you asked before you could stop yourself. “Why help me?”

Something flickered across his expression. “Because kindness runs in your bloodline. And… because I felt I should.”

A beat. Then two.

His gaze locked with yours, and the rest of the world dimmed.

You knew then—soul-deep and silent—that this wasn’t the last time you’d see him.

✦ ✦ ✦

The second time was at midnight, when a spell gone wrong lit up your grandmother’s grimoire and nearly set your curtains on fire. You called him in a panic. He arrived before the smoke cleared, cradling you out of the chaos like you weighed nothing.

You saw the blood on his sleeve and didn’t flinch.

“You’re not afraid of me,” he murmured later, as you sat wrapped in a blanket, sipping wine he’d conjured from somewhere below.

“I think I should be,” you whispered.

He smiled—something sad, something breaking. “And yet… you’re not.”

You shook your head.

He leaned in close. “Then perhaps, for the first time in centuries, I’ve met someone extraordinary.”

You felt it again—that gravity. That pull.

Love at first sight was supposed to be impossible. Foolish. Fleeting.

But with Elijah, it felt like a memory waking up.

A promise whispered across lifetimes.

Too Much

ofc here you go love sorry it took so long

Pairing: Carlisle Cullen x Fem!Reader

Warning: Smut, Overstim, oral (female receiving)

Request: Yes ^^ @lillybearblog

Word Count: 263

Carlisle just couldn't stop. He never grasped to the concept of ‘too much’ when it came to you, he was addicted. 

He has you tied on your shared bed bed with a vibrator strapped to your clit. He is sitting on to small couch on the other side of the bed stroking his fat cock, watching you squirm and convulse at the stimulation. From your angle you can see his red tip dripping of pre-cum and the veins of his cock popping out.

This was going on for hours, turning up the vibrator whenever he feels like it. 

“feel good?” he crouches beside you on the bed, patting your hair lovingly as if your whole body isn’t twitching beneath him.

“no more, baby. can’t take it.” you moan and writhe but he looks at you and can’t help but think how silly you are. he decides right then and there, cock on hand, that he wouldn’t even dream of stopping. 

“not today, princess. maybe tomorrow?” he plays with your hair again, his occupied hand running up and down his cock slowly as he listens to your desperate pleas. 

“what? no, no, please? i’ve had enough,” your hips buck as you round another orgasm. you swear you’ve been cumming all day. and perhaps you have, you have no other way to tell. 

he doesn’t dignify you with a response. instead, he smashes the vibe into you harder and no matter how hard you buck your hips, the pressure stays. it stays and stays and stays.  but maybe after just one more he’ll stop. right?

------

➤ Summary: In 1721, Carlisle Cullen meets a dying woman on the streets of London. Her name is Victoria. Desperate and drawn to her in a way he’s never felt before, he breaks his century-old vow—and changes everything. (Esme doesn't exist in this timeline) ➤ Warning: Themes of death, turning into a vampire, early 18th-century illness and societal norms. Emotional vulnerability, gentle angst, romance. ➤ Word Count: 1,045

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━ 🕯️ Part I: 𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘍𝘪𝘳𝘴𝘵 𝘓𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 🕯️ ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

London, 1721

Carlisle had not turned a single soul in the hundred years since his own transformation.

He'd seen plague, famine, and war. He’d stood helpless over countless humans in agony—begging, bleeding, dying. But always, he held his hand. He refused to curse another with the monster’s hunger that clawed inside his own ribcage. Mercy, to him, had always meant letting go.

Until her.

She was collapsed in an alley beside St. Bride’s church, her breath shallow, her skin pallid and soaked through with rain and fever sweat. Auburn curls stuck to her forehead. Her eyes—green, bright, and burning with life despite the sickness—met his as he knelt beside her.

“Leave me,” she rasped. “There’s nothing for you here.”

But Carlisle couldn’t move. There was something in her that stilled the centuries in his bones. Something bold. Defiant. Familiar.

“What is your name?” he asked.

“Victoria,” she whispered.

And he knew.

He would not let this girl die.

✦ ✦ ✦

She didn’t scream as the venom took her. She gritted her teeth and thrashed beneath the fever of fire, her hands clenching the edge of the mattress he'd laid her on in a physician’s abandoned chamber. But not a single scream passed her lips.

It made Carlisle ache. Not because of her pain—but because of her strength.

He sat beside her every hour. His blood boiled at the scent of her transformation, the predator within him snarling, craving. But he would not leave. Not again. Not this time.

When her eyes finally opened, red and brilliant like coals, she did not ask where she was. She only said:

“You saved me.”

And he, humbled, said: “I damned you.”

But Victoria only smiled.

“I think I was already damned,” she said. “You just gave me the chance to rise from it.”

✦ ✦ ✦

The years between them and that night passed like rivers folding into the sea.

Carlisle taught her restraint, compassion, and silence. Victoria, in turn, reminded him how to laugh.

Where he was composed, she was fire. Where he tread carefully, she danced without hesitation. They hunted deer and wolves in the forests of the north, and she teased him for always apologizing to the animals.

He adored her for it.

He thought at first that she needed him. That he’d made her. That he must guide her.

But the truth bloomed slowly: he needed her more.

✦ ✦ ✦

A winter evening in 1783—Scotland.

Snow blanketed the hills and Victoria was pacing beside a frozen stream, her curls wild beneath the moonlight. Carlisle stood beneath a tree, watching her, his breath fogging the winter air though he didn’t need to breathe.

She turned. “You’re staring.”

He smiled. “I often do.”

Victoria approached slowly, every step a temptation he resisted less and less.

“I used to wonder,” she said, brushing snow from her shoulders, “if you only turned me out of pity.”

His chest tightened. “Never.”

“I believe you now.” She stepped closer. “It’s more, isn’t it?”

“It always has been.”

There were no more words.

He kissed her then—slow and reverent, like she was both prayer and answer. Her lips were cold, yet her presence burned brighter than any fire. When she kissed him back, Carlisle felt something in him melt, ancient and stubborn.

And for the first time in over a century, he allowed himself to hope.

✦ ✦ ✦

They stayed far from human cities for decades, perfecting their thirstless peace, learning one another. While the world waged wars, Victoria painted wildflowers in books and read Shakespeare aloud by candlelight. Carlisle taught her Italian. She taught him how to dance again.

And every night, they watched the stars.

She never questioned their love. She never needed declarations. But Carlisle gave them anyway.

“You are my redemption,” he told her once beneath a Spanish sky.

Father figure!Lin x underage!reader

Fluff ☁️

Trigger: Anxiety; abusive parents

First Time

Pairing: SoftDom!Carlisle x Inexperience!Reader

Warnings: virgin reader, soft sex fingering, praising, etc

Request: Yes. ^^Above in ask^^ @lillybearblog

Note**Has been re-written bc there has been claims that i copied another blog even though i did not**

You and Carlisle have been seeing each other for a little while now, you were inexperienced in everything when it came to a intimate relationship.

Yes, you have had one or two relationships now and then but none that got that far.

You were layed on Carlisle chest just basking in the quietness of the house. All of Carlisle's adopted children were out doing their own things, which doesnt happen often.

"Carlisle" you say breaking the silence. He hums in response.

"I think I am ready." You say looking up to him. He looks at you eye brow raised.

"Are you sure doll?" he asked slightly concerned, yet held a wanting for it as well. He couldn't deny that he thinks about intimate moments with you quite often. He always wants to ravish you, but he always stops himself, never wanted to make you feel uncomfrotable.

You sit up, sliding onto his lap, leading Carlisle to have to stiffle a groan. You were always able to turn him on, without even meaning it. With a slightly confident face nodding you head "Yes I'm sure."

Your gaze switches between his pretty brown eyes and his plush pink lips, the sudden need to taste again was surprising more intense in the situation. Carlisle, who always seems to know anything thats going on your mind, tilts your head up before and closes the distance between you, his lips capturing yours in a soft kiss.

You tasted like grapefruit and white wine. He tasted like blood and lemon. To taste that when it came to you two tasted amazing.

You feel like your head is spinning, your whole body stiffening from above, of course this kiss was different than the others you shared. All of a sudden your mind catches up with you and the thought of inexperience flooding your mind and so you quickly pull away from his soft touch, even though it's the last thing you wanted too do.

Kissing him was always something you loved but this time it also made you nervous

Carlisle seems concerned, looking up at you with his eyebrows slightly curved, questioning if your intents have changed, just by reading your actions. Of course if they had changed he would not contine, but would have to go take a cold shower.

"Im nervous Carl." You whimber out

"Shh, darling. It's okay.I promise. Im here to help you through everything" he says again running his thumb over your cheek until the fear in your slowly goes away.

You nod your head telling him he can contuine.

He flips you over gently so he is hovering over you. He tilts you head again for better access before he slowly closes the gap between your lips, kissing you just as gently as before, waiting for you to catch up on his movements.

You rest your on the bed not knowing were to put them while he snakes an arm around your waist to pull you closer, making you melt in his arms.

You soon realize how to move your lips against his to avoid clashing teeth and the kiss grow a bit hungrier. You find yourseld pressing yourself against his frame more prominently, begging for more stimulation.

He breaks the kiss and then he buries his face in the crook of your neck, leading kisses down your burning skin probaly leaving brusies. The new sensation making you body shiver and smalls moans leaving your mouth.

"Look at you, darling. So eager for my touch," he murmurs, before he sinks his teeth into your shoulder, biting you gently, making you whine out his name his fangs in you making the pleasure so much more intense, which only turns him more.

He keeps peppering your skin with kisses and nibbles, turning you into a puddle in his arms, your head tilted back to allow him more access as your fingers tug on his dark hair, spurring him on.

You feel the heavy warmth of arousal pool in your panties, filling your mind with the same want that's been tormenting you for a while, the need to let him have your way with you.

"Baby, please," you whimper arching your back into him, making him let out a soft grunt.

You can feel his erection rub against your thigh, a sign that he wants you, needs you, just as much as you need him.

"What do you want, baby?" He murmurs against the shell of your ear before sucking a soft mark right underneath it, forcing you to hold back a whine.

"Y-you. I want you, Carl," you let out, cupping both of his cheeks to bring his lips to yours, the taste of him on your tongue getting way too addictive.

He grunts against you, your actions surprising him, but he soon catches up with you, his hand running to the back of your thigh so he can hike it up, wrapping it around his waist, allowing him access to your dripping core. He immediately starts rocking his hips against yours, making you break the kiss with a moan as your head falls against his shoulder.

"Does it feel good, darling?" He asks and all you're able to do is nod, the delicious friction of his clothed cock against your sensitive clit turning you into a hot mess.

"Schatz please" you whine softly, grasping on his shoulders, bunching up his white shirt in your hands as if that could save you.

"Please what darling" he groans out

"M-more," you whisper, knowing that even though this feels amazing, it's not enough to make you cum.

He dreamed so much of having you like this, his to ruin, his to break and now he has you and it's better than he ever anticipated. He didn't know it would be so easy to get you so cock-drunk even before the real thing happened but here he is, with you on the palm of his hand, begging him for more. And that's exactly what he's about to give you.

"What exactly do you want, darling?" He asks, pulling your head from his shoulder gently to force you to look at him.

Your pupils are blown out, your lower lip puffy from how hard you've been biting on it, your body fluttering with every roll of his cock against your tender pussy, the sight alone making him groan out your name, his cock twitching in his pants.

"I- I want- f-fingers," you sigh out in defeat, sinking your nails into his back as you buckle your hips into his.

"Anything for you, my good girl," he murmurs, planting a kiss to your temple before he lets your head fall forward to rest on his shoulder again.

You whine at the small praise, delighted to be called his, which makes Carlisle smile softly as he sucks another mark to your exposed shoulder.

He slowly runs his fingers over your side and down over your tummy to the hem of your cute pink panties, tugging on the waistband and letting it hit your skin, making you whimper.

You're so fucking wet that he fails to suppress the groan that leaves him as he runs his digits over your slippery folds, making your breath hitch in your throat, your lower belly clenching.

"Baby, please," you whine and he tuts at you, pressing a kiss to the mark he left on your shoulder.

"Don't worry, baby," he mumbles, sliding his fingers between your folds, making you gasp.

He spreads your slick all the way to your puffy clit, pressing two fingers against it and he starts drawing lazy circles that make your eyes roll back into your skull as a whimper of his name leaves your lips. You struggle to to keep your legs spread wide on the bed, you were already sinking into the bed.

"You like that, baby?" He asks, picking up a bit quicker pace that turns your body into mush.

You moan, nodding your head softly as you claw on his shoulders, the knot in your abdomen slowly tightening as a promise of an orgasm that sends shivers of excitement through your entire body.

"I- I- Carl," you whine, slowly rolling your hips against him to chase the building pleasure, making him chuckle.

His sweet girl is all cock drunk on already

"What, darling? Are you gonna cum?" He asks, quickening his movements, making your head fall back, your lips parting in bliss as you still cling to him for dear life.

"In-inside. I wanna- wanna feel y-you," you manage to put together, your voice breathy and high as your body trembles with pleasure.

He slides his fingers from your swollen clit to your wet hole, not hesitating a second before he pushes one finger inside. He curls it against your warm walls, while he keeps rolling your clit underneath his thumb. His fingers are so much thicker than yours, making you already feel full as your pussy clenches on him.

"Fuck," He breaths out, panting at how much he's trying to stop himself from rubbing his cock against your thigh but you're so freaking soft and warm and tight, making him painfully hard.

Arching your back as he strokes especially good spot inside of you, making you moan. He groans, attaching his lips to the crook of your neck to add more marks to those that already paint your skin. You whimper, thrusting your hips against his hand, making him grunt.

He slips another finger inside of you, stretching you out, making you whine, your pussy griping him, eliciting a curse from his lips.

“That’s it, baby,” he mumbles as he starts thrusting his digits in and out of you, making your thighs tremble, your toes curling as the pleasure in your lower belly growing, ready to burst.

“I- I’m close, schatz” you whisper, arching your back into him as he keeps abusing that sweet spot deep inside you that makes you see stars.

“Cum for me, darling” He asks, his heavy hot breath dancing over your collarbone and you nod with a hum, sinking your fingers into his soft hair.

All it takes are a few more strokes and you’re coming on his fingers, your pussy clamping down on him as you ride out your high, head leaned back and lips parted as you chant his name. He watches you with adoration.

He only stops once you whimper in over-sensitivity, pushing his hand away softly and so he takes his fingers out of you before bringing them to his mouth and licking them clean, all while keeping an eye contact with you, your eyes widening at his actions.

“So sweet, baby,” he hums in appreciation, giving you a bright smile before leaning closer to kiss you softly.

Summary: Draco is the head Healer at St Mungo's. You are the new Mediwitch that Draco can not help but slowly fall for you. You being oblivious to it all. -Both characters are 23 years old. Astoria is affected by the blood curse much earlier in her life. -

Part 1- Word count: 1,121

Warnings: None, Fluff,Scorpius (if kids are a trigger for some)

Its your first day of working as a MediWitch at St Mungo. You have studied and worked hard for this job and you did not want to blow it.

As you step out the lift, shaking with nerves and a million thoughts racing in your head you bump into someone, papers and files flying around you.

So much for not embarrassing myself on my first day you think.

Without looking up at the person you fall to the ground and start gathering everything "I-i'm so s-sorry" you stutter out still gathering all the persons things.

You fell the presence drop to the floor across from you, gathering the belongings too. "Its quite alright dear" a deep, husky voice says.

This is when you finally decided to look up at the man that you pumped into. Shit. Your boss and a former classmate. Draco fucking Malfoy.

"M-Mr Malofy. I'm so sorry." You say again finally standing up, him doing the same. You hand him his papers and press down your skirt that had made its way up your legs. You did not catch Draco's eyes lingering on your bare legs before finally snapping out of it and speaking.

"Y/n Y/l/n. Well its been quite a while since I have seen your face." He states playfully, fixing his tie.

You and Draco were not friends at school but you weren't enemies. You would be paired up with him for projects and would be nice to each other at parties. But other than that you guys were apart of two different worlds. You were not one that was caught up in all the mess of the war. You kept your distance from others just due to the amount of losses that many faced during the two wars.

You could not help the blush that started to grow. Just like all the other girls at Hogwarts you fancied Draco when you two were at school. And you could not notice he was still very attractive, now even more than when at school. Then you caught the attention of the gold ring on his ring finger. Of course you idiot. He's married. You think to yourself.

"You could say that Mr. Malfoy" you responded to him formally, he was still your boss.

He looked at you and cocked a brow "Mr.Malfoy? 1. That is a horrid of a father and 2. Why so formal Y/n?" he asks confused.

"Well you are my boss now and this is a working environment, so I have to be polite." You state.

Thats when something dawns across his face "Miss. Y/l/n. The new MediWitch. I thought the name sounded like something i've had in my mouth before, but i could not figure it out for the life of me."

You merely nod, wanted to go and find your post, not wanted to be looked down for being late on your first day. He goes to walk away in the opposite direction of you to the lift and you start to move to the nurse's station.

Not even two steps away you hear him clear his throat and you turn around.

"Where do you think you are going?" he asks

You are beyond confused "To the nurse's station."

He lets out a little chuckle, "I see. Your orders were not passed down to you then. You will be assisting me on my rounds and appointments."

You look at him shocked "O-oh okay." you yet again stammer, still standing in your place.

He moves aside and motions for you to come into the lift "Come on don't wanna be late for our first rounds together" and with that you made your way into the lift next to him not daring to meet his face.

But due to your actions, you missed Draco looking down at you fondly.

--------------------

After two weeks of your job

"Good morning Draco" you say as making your presence known to the blonde wizard as you put your bag down in his office.

After a few days of working with Draco you started to leave his bag in his office instead of the locker room. There wasn't anything wrong with the locker room you just started you day in his office.

"Good morning Y/n. I'm thinking today will be a slow day so I believe we can stay in here and you can help me complete paper work before the weekend." He responds as he separates the paper work into two piles for the both of you to work on. You take a seat in front of him and grab the paper work to start on. "Yes sir" you say jokingly and he sends you a stern look while grinning.

You and Draco have fallen into a easy and comfortable dynamic. It was like you two's relationship back in school but closer now. You really enjoyed his company. After the war you didn't have much friends, and you didn't know if what you and Draco had was a friendship but you will continue to pretend that you guys are friends.

You two stayed in a comfortable silence for a while and the paper work was getting done much faster. It was Friday and it was usually slow, so Draco preferred to get the paper work done so you both could have a free weekend. Draco requested that you work along side him so your scheduled allowed you the weekend off, even though you did not mind working on weekends.

The day went by quite fast. You two finished all the paper work by noon had a few check ups that were scheduled, but luckily there wasn't any emergencies.

You were now back in Draco's office collecting your bag and ready to head off for the weekend. "Is there anything else you would like me to complete before heading off for the weekend Draco?" you ask because you truly did not want to want anything to do this weekend.

"No, it looks like everything has been completed, but I do have a question for you Y/n" he states and you send him a questioning look. "Tomorrow at 2 I am hosting a small get together for my son, Scorpio's 5th birthday and if you are free would like for you to be in attendance. If you want to of course."

This request truly did take you by surprise. Draco had told you a few stories about his son. And as the fact that you did not have any children yourself the invitation was a shock, but you did love children and free food.

Chris Evans Instagram Story

Pt.1

Warnings: Fluff, anger, press hate, stupid in love, Chris Evans. Reader is Scarlett Johansson younger sister, 6 year age gap (reader-35, Chris-41)

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