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helloalycia · 3 years

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The Wrong Lifetime – Three // Wanda Maximoff

chapter two | story masterlist | main masterlist | wattpad | chapter four

author’s note: i have nothing to say except enjoy!

Chewing on my bottom lip, I looked over the shelves at the different kinds of stationary the shop had to offer. I needed a new notebook and some ink since I'd ran low at home, so I decided to come into town to have a look.

A brown leather-bound notebook caught my eye and I picked it up, flicking through the pages. Sadly, they were too thin for my liking, so I replaced it and kept looking.

Moments like this were one of the few luxuries I had to myself, where my mother wasn't nattering in my ear about finding a husband and learning to do something useful other than writing, or where my brother wasn't overshadowing me in everything he did, making me feel even worse about myself. No, moments like this, I could just be.

"Y/N? Is that you?"

And there goes my moment.

Plastering a smile on my lips, I spun around and was surprised to see Wanda approaching me with an equally surprised expression on her face. She really was everywhere, wasn't she?

"Wanda, hello," I greeted as she stopped by my side. "It's good to see you."

She looked good, considering I hadn't seen her for a few days. Maybe once when she'd popped in to say hello to everybody before her date with my brother, but that was hardly a meeting. Now, she looked cheery, eyes sparkling with their usual excitement.

"You, too," she said softly, a smile creeping on her lips. Her eyes fell to my hands, where I was holding some ink. "Don't you have servants to do that for you?"

"Don't you have servants to do that for you?" I countered lightheartedly, eyes flickering to the vast amount of paintbrushes and paint in her arms.

She narrowed her eyes in a playful manner. "Touché."

Rolling my eyes in good nature, I asked, "So, what made you decide to go shopping?"

"I needed some new supplies," she quipped with an adorable smile, lifting her arms which were filled with said supplies.

"And you didn't think a basket would help?" I joked, before turning to grab a stray basket beside the shelves and helping her to put everything in it.

She chuckled, accepting my help, and answered, "Truthfully, I only came for the paint, but then I saw some new brushes I wanted to try, and then there were some new colours in stock and, well, before I knew it–"

"This happened," I finished for her with amusement, handing her the filled basket.

She took the basket from my hands and nodded. "Exactly. I would have sent my servant to get the paint, but last time I did, she came back with the wrong one."

"Oh, the scandal," I teased.

Her cheeks flushed with embarrassment and it was refreshing to see the shoe on the other foot. I guess I could see the fun in it now – no wonder she teased me often. Plus, she looked cute when she was caught off guard.

"What about you?" she countered, attempting to take the attention off her.

Content smile on my lips, I watched her. "What about me?"

She gave me an isn't it obvious? look. "I told you why I was here. What about you?"

I shrugged, looking back to the shelves. "I just needed some things... and I may or may not get excited when buying stationary."

Her melodious laughter filled the air. "Of course."

"I just don't know which to get," I told her, motioning to the notebooks. "There's so many options!"

She hummed with amusement, stepping by my side closely and reaching out to get a better look. I was acutely aware of her shoulder pressed to mine and tried to stop thinking about it, but obviously, once I told myself to stop thinking about it, it was all I could think about.

"How about this one?" she suggested, picking up a notebook wrapped in a burgundy-coloured sleeve. She was probably biased since it was her favourite colour.

I took it from her grasp as she held it towards me, feeling tingles at the tips of my fingers when they grazed her hand. God, I needed to get a grip.

Before I could look at the notebook properly, I noticed a smudge on her hand, subconsciously grabbing it before she pulled away. Flipping it over so I could see her palm, I saw several smudges of colour and stared with confusion.

"Paint," she explained, mildly embarrassed as she pulled away. "The stuff goes everywhere."

I hid a smile, finding it cute, before looking to the notebook again.

"I like it, but now to see the pages," I said, flipping through them to see if they were thick enough. I hated getting a notebook with flimsy pages that ink seeped through.

"Are they to your liking, your majesty?" she teased, and I looked up to see her tilting her head and watching me through her eyelashes.

"Yes, they are actually," I retorted with a childish glare, before closing it. "Thanks."

She half-suppressed a laugh. "Good. Let's hope it gives you some... vdokhnoveniye."

She paused, scrunching her nose in thought, probably searching for the right word in English. I was too distracted by how enchanting she looked when she did that to care about her struggle to find the word.

"Vdokhnoveniye is like inspiration," she explained, eyes looking back to me after staring up in thought, "but it's something better. It's from the word vdykhat', meaning to breathe."

"So, you want me to get a good breath from this?" I asked, quirking a brow with bemusement.

"No! No." She laughed, running a hand through her curls. "It's like... when you get inspired by something so quickly, as quickly as it takes to take in a breath. Never mind, it's stupid."

"It's not," I reassured her with an appreciative look. "I get it. Thanks. I like that. Russian is definitely a fascinating language."

She seemed glad that I made sense of her ramblings and I smiled, realising there was much more to Wanda than her ability to make me a stumbling mess.

"Have you got everything?" I asked her, glancing to her basket, before quickly adding, "What am I saying? Of course you've got everything. Practically half the store is in there."

She shoved me gently. "Not nice. But yes, I have everything."

I refrained from chuckling at her dismay before leading the way to the till so we could pay. As we took turns, the cashier made conversation with both of us. I knew of him because I'd been here enough times to make a friend, but I was surprised to see Wanda was the same. I was certain I'd never seen her here before. And I'd been here a lot.

When we finished paying, we began to head outside and I decided to speak my thoughts.

"You know, it's strange to think that we've both been coming here for a while and yet we've never crossed paths," I noted. "I mean, unless we have and just didn't know who each other were then."

She shook her head casually. "Oh, no, we haven't crossed paths. I'd definitely remember a pretty face like yours."

I paused, bewildered at her words as they took time to sink in. She seemed to notice as she laughed, holding the door to the shop open for me. I walked outside and she followed after me, eyes glancing at me satisfactorily.

"So, er, what are you doing now?" I changed the subject, recovering from my momentary shock.

She settled with a smile as she answered, "I'm in the middle of adding some finishing touches to a painting I'm working on. I'll probably head back to finish it."

"Ah, the paintings that you talk about but I've never seen," I joked, relaxing under her stare. "I'm starting to believe you're lying to me, love."

She rolled her eyes, though her smile widened, revealing a dimple by the corner of her mouth. "I'm not... You can come with me if you'd like. I don't mind showing you." When her eyes met mine, she quickly added, "If you're not busy, that is."

Humour disappearing, I nodded with surprise. "Sure. I'd love to."

And that wasn't a lie. I was curious to see the Sokovian's work since she seemed to enjoy talking about art so much. Plus, I could appreciate some good art when I needed to and I wondered if hers would fit the bill.

Or at least that's what I told myself when she flashed her dazzling smile my way, making my heart explode with adoration.

—

Just like me, Wanda didn't have a dedicated place to work from because her parents didn't deem her passion an appropriate hobby for a young woman in today's day and age. So, just like I did, she worked in her room and made the most of the space she had.

As soon as we took a step inside, I was amazed by how much stuff there was. Of course there was the expected – a bed, an ottoman, a wardrobe and a desk – but it was as if that was all secondary furniture to the main focus.

Closest to the giant window on the opposite end of the room were several canvases being supported by easels, some painted and some blank. Papers with sketches of literally anything you can think of were taped to the walls, some scattered along the floor and some scrunched up entirely, missing the bin.

Her desk was filled with jars of paintbrushes, oils, pencils, chalk and any other art supply I'd probably never heard nor seen of before. The place was messy, but not dirty. Her bed was made, the sheets as crisp as could be, her books were lined up neatly, her paintbrushes all had a perfect spot. It was clean, but it was a giant mess, and it was the most beautiful mess I'd ever seen. I refused to believe art was merely a hobby for her when it seemed like her room was dedicated to it.

"This is your room?" I asked with disbelief, eyebrows raised.

Clearly mistaking my amazement for critique, she dumped her newly purchased art supplies on her bed before rushing to pick up some loose papers and canvases from the floor.

"Yes," she squeaked, attempting to kick some papers under her bed as she straightened up sheepishly. "Sorry for the mess. Believe it or not, it does follow a system."

I laughed wholeheartedly, heading further into the space to where her makeshift studio was. "Wanda, you don't need to apologise. This place is amazing."

She snickered, glancing around at everything. "You think? I'd love something more – a real studio – but of course, women aren't supposed to have hobbies apart from pleasing their husband and hosting dinners every other week."

The last part she said with a hint of bitterness, clearly repeating what she'd been told before, no doubt by her parents. I was surprised by her vulgarity, but I wasn't in disagreement. She was absolutely right and it was such a shame because women were so much more than their husband. Too bad society would never see that.

"My father only allows me this... sanctuary," she finished with a sigh, before her hand rested on her desk. "It's not much, but at least it's mine."

"Well, I love it," I told her honestly, making her smile as she looked my way. "Can I look around?"

She waved her hand. "Of course. Nothing's off limits, but do be generous. My ego is easily bruised."

I chuckled at her joke and she flashed me another smile before grabbing her neglected art supplies. As I helped myself to looking around at her work, I heard her rustling around behind me and glanced her way, seeing her making herself comfortable on a stool before a particular canvas. I presumed it was the piece she was working on that she mentioned earlier and got back to my browsing.

She was extremely talented, not that I had any doubts to be honest. There were her bigger pieces, the extremely detailed ones, that she'd painted of grassy landscapes. Some were green full trees with falling leaves, some were cherry blossom trees with pink blossoms floating in the air, some were buildings overgrown with mother nature. I recognised none of them, but they transported me elsewhere like a nostalgic reminder of being a kid and playing in the garden with my mum. Even now, I helped her do the gardenening, but I'd never really appreciated my surroundings until I saw Wanda's work.

And those were just the huge pieces. She'd done sketches that were taped to the wall, to her desk, floating out of sketchbooks. Some were plans for bigger pieces, others were daily observations, all of her surroundings. She didn't draw people, I noticed, it was mainly scenery. But it was all stunning and it brought a smile to my lips as I imagined her producing all of this in her own little sanctuary, as she called it.

"You've been quiet for too long," she called out jokingly, after a while of me perusing her sketchbooks.

I looked up from my seat at her desk, seeing her focused on her painting, but an amused smile ghosted her lips. The sunlight from the window was hitting her perfectly at the moment, and even from where I was sat, I could see the flecks of gold shimmering in her eyes, matching the auburn streaks in her hair. The breath got knocked out of me momentarily, and I almost forgot that she'd said something.

Clearing my throat, I returned her smile. "I'm admiring your work, Wanda. You're bloody talented."

She lowered her paintbrush and gave me an incredulous look. "Tell me what you really think, Y/N."

I grinned, laughing slightly. "I am! I genuinely think this is amazing."

She pressed her lips together, still reluctant to believe me, but she nodded gratefully and returned her attention to her painting. I didn't fail to notice the pink spreading across her cheeks at the compliment, and my heart fluttered at the sight.

"Would you ever sell any of these?" I asked her, standing up and approaching her side to see what she was working on.

I noticed the addition of stray paint that had made its way to her hands and forearms and it made me smile. I don't even think she realised it was there.

She scrunched her nose up at the idea. "I've given some away to family friends because my parents made me. But no, I don't think I'd sell them." Something seemed to make her snort with amusement, then she said, "Nobody would buy them anyway."

I frowned as she sighed, her shoulders sagging at the thought. It was horrible to admit, but she was right. Female authors – questionable, but sure, they existed. Female painters? Let's just say that it was easier to be successful if you worked under a pseudonym and pretended to be a man. Which she clearly wouldn't do, or at least her parents wouldn't allow her to do. Sadly, Wanda Maximoff was in the wrong lifetime.

Hoping to cheer her up, I stood by her side and admired the strokes she made with her paintbrush. "If it's any consolation, if we were in another lifetime where I actually made money, I'd buy them."

She glanced at me, partially disbelieving my words, partially intrigued. "Seriously?"

I nodded with certainty, eyes flickering between hers and her painting. "Seriously. All of them. I'd buy every single one."

She looked away, swallowing hard, then a soft, barely noticeable smile appeared on her lips, and I was glad I'd said the right thing.

Focusing my attention on the painting again, I saw it was a stunning view of a stream, and the way she'd painted it made it seem like it was flowing off the canvas. Her last minute touches, adding white flecks of oil paint on the water, managed to bring the piece to life without any effort. I was amazed at how someone could make nothing turn into something so easily.

"Where is this?" I asked curiously, not recognising the scene, and also wondering where she'd gone for the inspiration since we lived in a busy town that didn't have water sources nearby.

She pointed to her head with the end of her paintbrush. "Up here."

"You made this up?" I asked, surprised for the millionth time since arriving.

"Uh-huh." She tilted her head to study the piece, whilst saying, "I usually paint what's in the garden. Sometimes what I see in town is good, too. But I really wanted to paint water, and apart from the constant rain we get, there is none. So, I made it up."

I was impressed at her ability to make up something like this, but also slightly confused. "Why don't you just visit Blackpool? There's a beach – water, sand, pier, everything. And it's not too far from here. You could make it a day trip."

She shrugged, distracting herself with dipping her brush on her palette. "I don't want to go by myself."

I probably should have recommended she visit with my brother. You know, the man she was engaged to? But my eagerness got the better of me, and I ended up saying, "Maybe we could go together. If you want."

She looked up, a slow smile forming on her lips. "I'd like that."

I mirrored her expression, nodding slightly. "Great. I'm sure we can arrange something. Promise."

She held my gaze for a second longer, saying, "I'll hold you to that, milaya," before looking back to her painting.

"What does that mean?" I asked suddenly, my mind clearly not controlling my words today. "You keep calling me it."

She chuckled, leaning forward to get a closer look at her work with her paintbrush. "Darling."

"Pardon?"

She shook her head, glancing at me with amusement. "No, Y/N. It means darling."

I swallowed awkwardly, certain my cheeks were as red as they felt warm. I wasn't sure what was more embarrassing – that I'd responded to her calling me darling when she hadn't, or that she'd been calling it me this whole time without me knowing. "Oh."

"Pull up a stool," she changed the subject, though my mind was still racing at her revelation. Had she called Y/B/N that? I couldn't recall. "I'll show you how to paint a little if you want."

Dazed, I did as she said whilst chewing on my lip with thought. She watched me, grinning from ear to ear, but said nothing. Was it normal for my heart to flip-flop in my chest like it was? I couldn't tell anymore. And when she grabbed my hand without saying anything, my hand felt like it was on fire with her touch.

The tip of her paintbrush swiped against my inner palm, her soft fingertips holding it up. Every area that her finger touched was burning, sending tingles up my arm and leaving me paralysed. Good thing I was sat down.

"There," she said like it was obvious. "Now you're an artist."

Blue eyes met mine excitedly and I gave her a small smile in return, hoping that these strange thoughts and reactions would disappear soon enough. Because this was definitely not appropriate.

—

My dreams were never anything worthwhile.

For someone who had a creative mind and could string sentences together to create a story I was proud of, my subconscious was the opposite. It was dry and boring and I rarely remembered my dreams unless they were scary enough to wake me up. But this time, this was a dream I was certain I'd never forget...

As with all dreams, I was unable to control what was happening. I was myself, observing from a first person point of view like it was real, but I had no control over my words or actions. Everything was predetermined, like a script I was forced to follow.

So, in this particular dream, I was sat in the back of a carriage, wearing a dress that was fancier than my usual taste. One hand was clutching my purse and the other was in someone else's hand, the person playing with my fingers soothingly.

"We're stopping now. Are you ready?"

It was Wanda. I had no idea why she was in my dream, or why she was leaning into my side comfortably, or why she was playing with my fingers like she did it all the time. I just knew that it shouldn't have been happening.

"Yeah, c'mon," I said with a smile, following my dream's script.

I intertwined our fingers and raised them to my lips, pressing a kiss to her palm. She smiled with adoration and allowed me to lead her out the carriage quickly. We were at the theatre and the first thing I thought was that my mind was creating a date similar to the one she shared with my brother. Oh, God, this wasn't good.

"Promise you've got the tickets?" she asked as we walked inside, hand in hand.

In my dream, nobody around us seemed to care that we were together, that we were two women showing affection and simply existing in a way more than friends. As wrong as I knew it was to dream of my soon-to-be sister-in-law like this, my mind was at peace, knowing I could be myself in my dream state. I didn't have to hide my identity and it was liberating.

"No, I decided to leave them at home," I answered her sarcastically, smiling.

She squeezed my hand and tugged me close, stopping me from walking any further. Her face scrunched together with a feigned annoyance.

"You don't need to be mean," she mumbled, eyes peering into mine, and my heart raced at the contact of her body pressed to mine.

Grinning, I pressed a kiss to her nose. "I've got them right here, love. Now let's go before we're late."

The dream didn't have a clear transformation. I just knew that one second I was staring at Wanda and the next I was sat beside her in the theatre, waiting for the lights to go down.

"Here," I said, passing her the programme for the show that was in my hand.

When I looked down at it, I was surprised to see a wedding ring on my left hand. Huh.

The lights dimmed when Wanda looked my way, green eyes bright in the dark. She shrugged, grabbing the programme and tossing it over her shoulder to the (thankfully) empty seat next to her.

"Looks like I missed my chance," she said, referring to the lack of light.

I opened my mouth to counter her words, but she didn't give me chance to as she pressed her lips to mine, hand raising to hold the back of my neck and pull me closer. Real me was freaking out, wondering why the hell I was allowing myself to have such thoughts about the girl who was going to marry my brother. And dream me was melting into her touch, shivering at her warmth and the way she began to suck my bottom lip.

"Wanda," I breathed out, pulling away breathlessly, but she continued to hold me close with a stifled grin.

"Isn't that why we got these tickets?" she said jokingly, eyes meeting mine.

My heart raced as she did, the simplest of glances making me weak in the knees. I was beginning to learn that her eyes were irresistibly beautiful.

"Right," I found my words, smiling in agreement as my eyes flickered to her lips.

They were painted red tonight, slightly smudged from the abrupt kiss she gave me, and I could only imagine the state of my own lips.

"We can watch the play now," she whispered, and I just about managed to tear my gaze from her lips to see the entertained look in her eyes.

I hummed in response, not trusting myself to say something comprehensible. Her lips curved into a smile and she linked our arms before settling into her seat, head leaning on my shoulder. I leaned mine on top, kissing the top of her head gently before also getting comfortable.

When I woke up, I didn't remember the rest of the dream, or know if there was a rest of the dream. I opened my eyes and found myself laying in my bed alone, tired and in the dark. It was still nighttime and my mind was foggy with fatigue. It took a moment for me to remember what I'd just dreamed. And then it hit me.

I liked my brother's fiancé.

#wanda maximoff au #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff x you #wanda maximoff imagine #scarlet witch imagine #scarlet witch #elizabeth olsen x reader #elizabeth olsen imagine #elizabeth olsen #marvel #marvel imagine #mcu

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multifandom-girlie · 3 years

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𝐅𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐡 𝐅𝐚𝐜𝐞𝐬

Imagine:Imagine Requested by Anon. You move to New Orleans and meet Elijah who then introduces you to his younger brothers. You take him to your brothers wedding as your date but he also brings his brothers as plus ones.

Pairing: Elijah Mikaelson x Human!Reader

Warnings: None

Words: 3596

Edited: Yes

Hi! I'm sorry so for the long wait, this was a really good request and I wanted to make it perfect for you. Now I can honestly say it still isn't to the best of my ability but I was stumped half way through and had to power through it. Sorry about the length I wasn't planning for it to be this long but it just ended up being so. Anyway I really hope you enjoy! Please comment requests or what you think of the imagine please. Thank you !

Recently, I moved to New Orleans. I did so because I heard great things and I am not disappointed. I moved here right in Mardi Gras season so it was okay but it's been a couple of months now and the tingles of excitement thinking about living here is incredible. At this moment in time, I was walking my dog. Barney. He's a beautiful German Shepard, he's getting older now but he'll always be my baby. We were walking down bourbon street and I was looking at my phone to check the time when I bumped into a pristine looking man. I dropped my phone and started giggling nervously.

"I'm so sorry, sir."

I bent down to pick up my phone but as I did we bumped heads, seeming as he lowered to pick it up too. We both looked at each other and started laughing. It's like I came straight out of a high school romance movie.

"It's absolutely okay. I should've moved when I saw you on your phone. I couldn't help but be-and forgive me if I'm overstepping-but be captivatingly beautiful."

I couldn't stop or even stall the luminous red blush engulfing my cheeks. The wind picked up in time to cover my face with my Y/H/C coloured hair.

"Oh, uh thank you."

"Sorry I shouldn't of said it, that was out of line."

I giggled as he walked away.

"Wait ! It wasn't, I'm just not used to compliments from people I bump into on the street."

He looked down with his hands in his trouser pockets and blessed my Y/E/C eyes with his sweet and wide grin.

"Sorry. Let me make it up to you. Would you let me buy you a coffee ?"

I giggled and Barney started licking the man's hand.

"Barney ! Stop it baby."

He laughed.

"It's quite alright. So coffee ? We can have it to go if you'd like?"

I smiled and Barney sat down next to my legs.

"Uh yeah, that would be nice."

***

"So you've bought me coffee and are walking around with me and I still don't know your name."

We laughed together.

"I apologise. My name's Elijah."

I looked at him in awe. His name was so beautiful and it matched his pristine look.

"I love your name, it's beautiful. My name's Y/N."

"Talk about beautiful names."

I looked away, again blushing. It made me smile so much because I always used to get picked on for my name despite loving it myself. It made me uncertain of the importance of self-love.

"Thank you, it means more than you may think."

We smiled and continued to walk in a serene silence.

"So, Elijah. When your not carelessly bumping into girls and dishing out compliments, what do you like to do ?"

He chuckled softly.

"I like to read a lot and I can cook when necessary."

This man becomes more intriguing by the second. I bet he's a great cook and the reading explains his extensive range of vocab.

"That's so cool, I cook and bake all the time. I love it so much and I don't read as much as I'd want but I like to sing."

"Oh yeah, do you sing for people ?"

"Uh sometimes, mainly special occasions like birthdays and stuff. I'm actually singing at my brother's wedding in a couple of months."

"Really, what a shame I don't get to see for myself your talent."

"I wouldn't really call it a big thing but I mean if it means that much. You seem nice so far, I was just gonna go stag but if you want to join me you can. It might be more fun if your there, I don't particularly love the women he's marrying so."

"That would be lovely. What's wrong with the woman?"

"Well, she's always stuck up around him you know. She licks his ass so much but whenever he's not around for a second she is the bitchiest most irritating girl in the world and not forgetting she's incredibly immature."

"Really, must be a irritating women then ?"

"Like you wouldn't believe."

I looked up and realised that it's already quite dark out, which means I've spent a good couple of hours talking to Elijah. I told him where my apartment was and he left but not before exchanging numbers. That very night, I had no sleep because Elijah and I were texting all night.

In the morning, after still not getting any sleep. I had a text from Elijah just as I had finished brushing my teeth.

Elijah: Good morning Y/N! I hope your energised. How would you like to get lunch today ?- E.M

Reply: As energised as I can be, Elijah. I would love to get lunch today. I also need to get my dress for the wedding, help me pick ? Good morning by the way.

Elijah: Of course you do, trust you to not be prepared. I would be honoured to help you, I don't want to go to a complete stranger's wedding with my date looking like a tart.

Reply: Thank you Elijah. Self-confidence risen dramatically... what time do you want to meet ?

Elijah: I'll pick you up at 12:30.

Reply: Okay, see you then.

As soon as I sent my reply, I ran and jumped into the shower. I lathered my vanilla body wash all over my body and soaked my hair in cherry almond shampoo and conditioner. I hopped out and decided to leave my face free from makeup and put on a mask whilst getting ready. I quickly applied my charcoal face mask and started rooting through my wardrobe for some clothes. I looked at the clock and realised I only have 50 minutes to get ready. I decided to wear a sheet black crop top with coloured flowers on and flared sleeves along with a short denim skirt, brown ankle boots, some black tights and and brown bag to match my shoes.

I was just spraying some of my vanilla perfume when there was a knock at the door. My eyes shot to the clock and I watched as the clock turned 12:30. I opened the door to see him stood there with a warm smile on his face. I smiled back at him with just as much warmth.

"Hey Elijah. You weren't kidding when you said 12:30 were you ?"

He chuckled and straightened his posture more even if it was impossible to be standing any straighter than he already was. I get it now, he's a perfectionist.

"When I say a time, I mean it."

I giggled and shut the door, locking it behind me. I replied to his comment with a smirk on my face and walked off.

"I can see that, Mr Perfectionist."

He chuckled and followed me out. We we're taking a comfortably quiet stroll down bourbon street, not rushing to get to the mall.

"So Elijah, what is it ?"

He turned to me with slight confusion.

"What ever do you mean, Y/N?"

I could tell he was genuinely confused so I made the choice to elaborate. I turned my head to look at him with my arms crossed but still walking.

"You. The way you talk, your timing ? I mean your not just on time you were there in the second of it turning 12:30. How about that both times I've seen you, you've been wearing $10 000 suits. I mean we are going to lunch. Probably to get some pizza or sushi, not for a meal that costs like $300 take like one zero off that at least."

He looked shocked at me understandably so. I just called him out on practically everything that makes him Elijah. It's not that I have a problem with any of it. A man who has impeccable timing, amazing-expensive-but amazing dress sense and knows how to talk properly not "Sup baby, you busy tonight ?" The number of times that lines been used in me is incredible.

He looked at me with a prominent look of worry. Maybe I said the wrong thing, was I too blunt maybe ? Or he might think I don't like any of it. So I quickly decided to save myself.

"Before you think or even ask yourself if I don't like any of that, I do. I'm just not used to speaking to a man. Someone with great fashion sense, doesn't talk like in idiot and can actually pronounce and word things properly-in other words speaking actual english, someone who has manners, the looks, impeccable timing and knows how to charm a women. Your a women's dream I just didn't know you were so....dreamy."

A wide grin broke out on his face, with made me blush profusely. I saw the mall in front of us.

"Dreamy ? You have a way with words Miss Y/L/N. I apologise if I may have distracted you for being so dreamy."

I giggled and smacked his arm playfully.

"Hey it's not funny. Take the compliment or leave it, alright ? It just slipped out."

"Slipped out of your mouth or your dreams."

We started laughing together feeling more comfortable than when I had my curious outburst minutes ago.

We walked in the mall and I was lost for which shop to buy my dress in. I nudged Elijah's arm.

"You know any good shops to buy dresses ?"

I asked jokingly but to my surprise he dragged me into a shop I didn't see the name of. He stopped at the entrance and turned to me.

"We are going to do something because you have massively boosted my ego today unintentionally, I think. Your going to let me do something for you. To make sure you don't look like a tart is why I came with you, correct ?"

I nodded.

"Your are going to pick five dresses you like in this store and I am going to pick my favourite one and you have to wear it to the wedding, deal ?"

Not how I expected the day to go, being bossed around by a man who was a stranger not more than 2 days ago.

"How do you not have women lining up to be with you? As long as your this bossy in the bedroom, I will say deal to you as many times as you like."

I winked at him and walked further into the shop. Elijah stood there with a wide grin at the once innocent flirty comments turning rapidly less innocent and followed her.

Five. Five dresses is not hard to pick. Come on Y/n. Just one more. I stopped and looked around until I spotted the last one. I handed them to Elijah with a whispered comment as I walked out.

"One of those dresses are harder to get off then the rest I might need some assistance, make the right decision Mr Precision."

I waited outside for him to pick the dress. Minutes later he walked out of the shop with a wide grin on his face and a white paper bag that most likely has my dress in it.

"So ?"

He looked at me and winked.

"I made the right decision, don't you worry."

***

We walked over to Rousseau's and I persuaded him to sit down and eat. When the food arrived he looked at me weirdly.

"I can't eat this, Y/N."

I giggled at him a rolled my eyes.

"What worried about getting grease on your $10 000 suit. Don't even tell me you don't like it, what's not to love about a big greasy burger and fries with a beer. Or do you only drink wine and eat lobster with caviar ?"

He chuckled at me and took his jacket off and placed it on the back of his chair. He unbuttoned his sleeves and rolled them up so they were now three quarters in length. The next thing I know is he's picking it up and taking a big bite of the burger whilst staring at me in the eyes to prove a point.

***

A little while later after it's like 6 pm we decide to leave the bar and go back to my apartment. I unlock the door and hang my jacket up whilst throwing my keys on the worktop in the kitchen. I kick my shoes off by the door and walk into the kitchen to look for some wine. Elijah follows me in a little later, having just taken his jacket off and hung it up.

"You look confused."

I'm rooting around in my pantry looking down my wine rack not finding the alcohol I wanted. Then the idea that it might be in the fridge popped into my head. I walked out of my pantry closing the door and opening my fridge finding the label staring at me in the face. I smiled and grabbed it before turning around and showing it to Elijah.

"I was trying to find this. A bottle of wine I was saving for when I had good company."

He grabbed the bottle out of my hands and inspected it, lastly he smirked.

"No wonder you saved it Y/N, this is an expensive wine. One they don't even sell in the United States. What did you do? Go on holiday and smuggle a bottle of rare and incredibly expensive wine back here ?"

"I guess you could say that but I didn't buy it...I won it. In a game of poker on my 26th birthday, I lived in Italy with my family and it was a bottle that was made the year I was born and my mother saved up for it and bought it. My dad annoyed her buy using it as a prize for our game of poker, he said it was pure luck just because it was made on my birthday. $6 863. That's the total cost."

"So your Italian ?"

I giggled and grabbed two glasses.

"Si signore."

He chuckled and followed me into the living room. I threw myself on the couch and sat upright so I could pour the wine.

"So you've juiced everything interesting out of me. What about you ?"

"The only interesting thing about me is my family I suppose. I have two older siblings and four younger siblings."

"Tell me about them."

"Okay. There's my eldest sister Freya she's 34; 5 years older than me. She's quite sweet but she was more of a long distance sibling for a while.Finn who's 33, we're not especially close. Niklaus or Klaus as he prefers, he's 25 and a menace all of the time consistently getting on my nerves. He's 4 years younger than me. Then Kol who is worse than Klaus, he's the most menacing of us all and an irritatingly common flirt even at 24.My youngest sister Rebekah, 17 and she's always had a flair for the dramatics, always looking for love. Then Henrik, who was 11 when he died. None of us really knew a lot about him except Klaus, he was the closest to him."

I widened my eyes and polished off my third glass of wine already. I put my hand on his, I leant forward a touch to pour more wine.

"I apologise for your loss. But, also for your seemingly irritant siblings."

"It's quite alright."

I grabbed his glass and placed the glasses down on the table and I felt my arm being dragged back and when looking forward, I noticed the close proximity of Elijah and I. Mere centimetres away we sat staring into each other's eyes with curiosity. I couldn't help but feel intimidated by the lingering stare he had on me and also slightly exhilarated. Swiftly our noses touched ever so slightly. It made it impossible to pull away like I probably should have. He leant forward some more making the pressure on our noses more noticeable and so suddenly his small soft lips reached for mine in a gentle peck. Our eyes fluttered closed, overwhelmed from the feeling a small kiss could make us feel. It was a foreign feeling, feeling this way from a kiss.

He gradually moved away a little and looked at me in the eyes. I didn't know what to say. His hands slowly raised and stroked the sides of my face before leaning in and giving me a quick peck. Just after he allowed me to cuddle into his side to watch a movie, I'd put on in the background when we sat down.

***

A couple of months later, we are still going strong. Elijah and I actually have the wedding to go to today, we flew out with his brothers unfortunately so we couldn't have much personal time. I am excited about seeing my dress though, I haven't seen it since when I picked the 5 dresses out at that store, I can't even remember what they all looked like.

I opened the bag and I pulled out a beautiful baby blue halter neck dress that will hug my body tightly, no wonder he liked it and of course it was the one with the zip. I actually will need help later now.

I decided to start getting ready and then spotting the lingerie he threw in there as well.

These last few months have been a dream. I have not been this happy for years. Elijah's perfect, yes we have a few differences that haven't been great to deal with but we've made it through and he makes me feel i'm living in my dream.

***

I walked out of the bathroom that I was getting ready in to see Elijah drinking a glass of wine on the bed.

"Babe it's 11 am, why are you drinking wine ?"

He jumped up and spat it out on the floor, unfortunately it was red wine. My eyes widened as I saw it immediately stain the floor.

"Lijah ! This is a hotel room, we aren't at home."

He shook his bed and fell on the floor on his knees, eyes still widened.

"Elijah. What's wrong with you, baby ?"

He shook his head and helped me scrub the floor. We are most definitely going to be late for this wedding. As I was squirting soap on the floor I hear a knock. I get up, leaving Elijah on the floor. I open the door to greet the brothers. They walked in and followed me to the bedroom where Elijah was still on the floor.

"Elijah mate, why are you on the floor ?"

He just continued to stare off. They looked at me and I shrugged.

"I don't know what happened. I walked out the bathroom, he spark his wine on the floor. Now we have to explain why we've stained their carpet."

***

We are greeting other guests and trying to find my brother. When I spot him he walks over. He hugs me and spins me around.

"God I missed you Y/N !"

"I missed you too Y/B/N, like you wouldn't believe. I would like to introduce you to some people I bought. This is Elijah, my boyfriend and has been for a couple of months now and-"

I introduced Elijah who was back to normal after I gave him a kiss apparently it was because I looked so beautiful. I cut myself off when going to introduce the brothers because when I looked over at them. They were the only two causing trouble, Kol was consistently flirting with married women and Klaus threatening people.

"and that's it. They are NOT with us."

Elijah and I looked at each other and he nodded. I rolled my eyes and walked over to the brothers, grabbing them by the wrists and dragging them over.

"Y/B/N these are Elijah's brothers. Kol and Klaus."

"Nice to meet you all, it's a shame I can't talk more to Elijah. I guess it's hard to talk to him when your sister doesn't tell you about him."

I looked down to the floor and back up innocently.

"I love you."

"I love you too. Right, we need to start getting ready."

"Okay go."

***

Flashback

I was sitting nervously on a couch at Elijah's House when he walks in with two good looking gentlemen.

"Y/N my darling, I would like for you to meet my brothers Kol and Niklaus."

"Call me Klaus. All my friends do."

He grabs my hand and kisses it. I blushed hard before most fortunately it disappeared, very quickly.

Kol walks closer and kisses me on the cheek and as he pulls away winks. Unfortunately, the blushed arose. Once again.

"Nice to meet you darling."

They are all insanely charming and flirtatious, it's nerve racking. No wonder, why they have so many female admirers.

***

I remember how different the greetings were for me and my brother. They were more chilled with my brother although still mischievous, yet with me it was flirtatious and misbehaving.

I can live with it now though. The flirtatiousness, I get enough from Elijah so I'm used to it. Kol and Klaus now are more comedic in my eyes with their fake sentiments of love for me, annoying Elijah and even bursting into our room after I've taken a shower to see if they scare me enough to drop my towel. Although, that's more Kol.

All I can say is, I'm way more comfortable with them now and I couldn't be happier to know that Elijah and I are going to last, a gut feeling tells me so.

OUTFIT

MASTERLIST

#elijah mikealson imagine #masterlist #the originals #the originals imagines #to imagine #Kol mikaelson #klaus mikaelson #imagines

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