The Little Witch's Imagines

Elijah: That's my wife

IMAGINE: Being Elijah's shameless wife.

You married Elijah only a short time ago, much to his family's surprise. They never thought Elijah took a liking to girls who were always in control. You were sweet and sensitive, but also very careless—so they were used to you walking around the house in your lingerie or even less. They did admire your spirit and sisterly instinct in the family, especially since acting like you'd never heard the word "no" in the family was praised.

You liked to get up before anyone else in the family to call your family back in Chicago and check up. You got out of bed in your bralette and sleeping shorts as you took the empty cup on your nightstand with you out of the room. Elijah was already sitting up reading as he watched you walk past. 

"At least put some longer shorts on if you're going to go outside," he sighed. 

You splashed water on your face in the bathroom and then fixed your messy morning hair in the mirror.

 "Ask me again and I'll just leave them off altogether," you replied. 

You snapped your thin underwear on your hip as you left the room, drawing a smile out of Elijah. You sat on the back patio, with a mug most people would think was coffee, but you always had to have filled with something stronger. Marcel appeared from around the side and you looked at him nonchalant. 

"You know I leave the front door open for you in the morning," you told him.

 He made his browsing quick of you as he smiled at his shoes.

"Hey Y/N. Haven't seen you out here in a few days," he said. 

You stood in your bra and short shorts as you shrugged. 

"It's been pretty hot out here and I'm still trying to get used to it," you sighed. 

"Good grief your a strip show," Rebekah sighed as she past the patio door. 

"It's Saturday, leave me alone," you replied playfully. 

Elijah was then at the patio door a warning look at Marcel. "Marcel," he spoke sharply. 

"I'm not looking," Marcel muttered to him defensively as he went inside with Rebekah.