#and the tiniest of references made me so happy

[crxss01]

— Never Felt So Low

pairing ʚɞ ⁺˖ ⸝⸝ 42!miles morales x reader

summary ⁺˚⋆｡°✩₊ you see miles a month after his dad's funeral.

warnings ✧˖ ° angst, comfort, sad miles, grief, mentions death (obvi), sad tía morales.

m. list, main m. list.

translations ✧࿓☾ mija: dear, bonito: handsome/pretty boy. princesa: princess, gracias, muñeca: thanks, doll.

miles had been distant ever since his dad died, you completely understood him (in a way) and the fact that he wanted to be there for his mother. but you also wanted to be there for him, to be able to give him the comfort that he needed.

since he had made no attempts to contact you, you decided that you were just going to his house with no invitation. you would not only fail yourself if you didn't go but you would also fail him because right now he needs all of the support that he can get.

knocking on the door, you waited until it was answered by rio morales, who you liked to refer to as tía morales. the woman looked a mess, which was understandable, her eyes were bloodshot and she had dark bags under them, her nose was red, her hands were shaking and her bottom lip was quivering.

"ohh... tía morales." you walked in, pulling the older woman into a hug.

she held you close and tightly, not tight enough to the point that it was uncomfortable but to the point where you felt the pressure, tía morales did not start to cry instead choosing to just enjoy the comfort you were offering.

you let her hug you for however long she wanted. a couple of seconds or minutes later, you lost track of time, she started to pull away slowly.

"i missed you, mija." she told you, her hands cupping your cheeks and her thumb gently caressing one of them.

"i missed you too, tía." and it was true, the woman was pretty much a mother figure to you.

"go check on our boy, i'm starting to get so worried about him." she shook her head, holding back tears. "he's been suppressing his emotions."

you nodded. "alright, i'll try to help him."

tía morales pointed at his bedroom and you walked to the door, stopping right in front of it and lifting your arm to knock.

“ma, i already told you that i don’t wanna eat anything right now.”

“it’s me, bonito.” you called out softly. “can i come in?”

there was a minute of silence and you were scared that he was about to tell you to leave when he finally spoke. “yes, come in.”

so you did. the moment you saw him sitting down on his bed, head thrown back and staring at the ceiling you felt relieved to see that he was at least looking healthy so far.

“miles…”

your previous thought changed when he turned his head to look at you and your heart broke this time. he looked pale and so tired, you wanted nothing more than to bring back the rich color of his skin and to make the happy look return to his tired eyes.

“hey..” he said with no emotion whatsoever, even his voice had a rough edge to it that you didn’t notice while you were outside his door.

“hey, bonito.” you walked closer to him and sat beside him on the bed, taking his hand in yours.

“i’m sorry, it’s been a while.” he apologized. “i made you feel alone.”

“don’t apologize, i understand.” you shook your head. “but now i want to be here for you and i think it was the other way around, i wasn’t there for you and made you feel like you only had your uncle and mom.”

“i knew i had you too, princesa. i just didn’t want you to see me like this.”

“miles, i don’t care about your appearance as long as you look healthy, you know that. you are going through a tough time right now and i want to be here for you.”

miles laid his forehead on yours. “gracias, muñeca.”

“can i stay here with you?” you asked, wanting to spend the night with him in your arms but still not wanting to intrude. it was good enough that he didn’t argue with you about you being in his home, yet you even were willing to spend the whole week with him if it would bring back the tiniest spark back to his eyes.

“yes, you can.” he nodded, raising one hand and softly stroking your cheek with his thumb just like his mother did.

after what seem like hours in the same position, his face had lost part of the tension on it, a calm expression replacing it and it made you feel a little better that you had that effect on him.

“here, mi niño.” tía morales had walked in and was passing two plates of food to you and miles.

“ma, i already—”

“thank you, tía.” you took both plates from her. “we’ll both eat it.”

the woman nodded, a smile on her face before she left the room, closing the door and leaving a 4inch gap.

you turned to miles and put one plate down on his bed and focused on one. lifting a spoonful you blew on the rice and chicken on it before directing the spoon to miles’s lips.

“say ahh.” you told him.

miles looked at you for a second before rolling his eyes and opening his mouth. “ahh.”

you put the spoon inside his mouth, and he gladly chewed the food when you took the spoon out.

grabbing food from the plate on the bed you also ate and closed your eyes at the taste of tía morales’ delicious cooking.

after miles swallowed his mouthful, you took another spoonful from the plate on your hand and lifted the spoon to his lips.

miles once again looked at you for a second but instead of rolling his eyes, he smiled showing the dimples that you loved so much.

his smile was contagious and you couldn’t help but smile as well while you led the spoon inside his mouth.

after you both finished eating you took the plates out to the kitchen and washed them before going back to miles’ room and changing into one of his shirts and shorts then laying next to him on his bed.

“i missed you so much, beautiful girl.” miles said, hugging you close. his head on your chest.

“and i missed you too.” you said truthfully.

miles nodded into your chest and you both stayed quiet for a few minutes. when you felt little droplets of tears falling onto the shirt you were wearing, you didn’t say anything. already knowing how sensitive miles was and how he preferred to cry in silence unless he spoke first.

your hand started going up and down his back, letting him know you were there and he got the message because he hugged you more tightly and sobs were coming out of his throat.

“i just miss him.” he finally spoke, his voice breaking.

this was your queue that you could speak now. “i know, bonito, i know.” you told him. “let it all out.”

“it hurts so much.” more tears started coming out of his eyes.

you needed to use all the strength in you in order to not start crying right then and there along with him instead focusing on being as comforting to him as you could, whispering sweet nothings to him and pulling him close to you.

the night went on like this and you made sure that miles was asleep before you allowed yourself to fall under exhaustion control and also fall asleep.

taglist: @anikaluv @janaeby @queerponcho @laylasbunbunny @onginlove @all444miles @fiannee @sp1dercunt @milesandcorysupermacy @loonalockley @miguelslefteyebrow @dxille (if you asked to be added to the taglist and you’re not on here is because your @ didn’t appear!)

ʚɞ ⁺˖ ⸝⸝ reblogs are really appreciated!

#42 miles morales #earth 42 miles morales x reader #miles morales fanfiction #miles morales x reader #earth 42 miles morales #prowler miles x reader #earth 42 miles x reader #spiderman across the spiderverse #earth 42 miles morales x you #earth 42 miles fluff #earth 42 prowler #earth 42 #earth 42 miles morales x female reader #earth 42 miles angst

[fuckmymunson]

thinking abt steve and robin teasing eddie about how nervous he gets around reader and how she probably ruins him in bed.

little do they know, he’s the one that ruins her, teasing her until shes begging him to fuck her and then fucking her into the mattress until she can’t think about anything but him🥴

💌; Oh fuck yeah, definitely. Especially because Robin and Steve helped him to fucking rehearse asking you on a date... Which didn't end up as expected. Not mattress because I'm in the mood of wanting to be fucked in a car sorry I love u anon.

💌; 18+!, smut, minors DNI. Oral sex (m), a lil' of facefucking, the tiniest bit of mean!Eddie (if you squint, like he's not even mean?), dirty talk (he says slut like 1 time), facials <3.

"Again! From the start, come on Munson you can do it" Robin sighed from her place in Steve's couch.

"Can I please take this fucking thing off?" Steve groaned from his place in the kitchen, referring to the cheap party shop wig he was wearing. It wasn't even your hair color.

"No you can't, now bring your ass over here, and please make a better impression, she doesn't sound like that, she's not permanently congested" Robin yelled from the living room and shook her head. "This cheap actresses that I gotta work with..."

"Hey! I heard that!" Steve yelled back. "Can we please focus?" Eddie complained from his spot on the living room as well, rubbing his face with frustration. "She would never go out with me! I can't even talk to her without stuttering and getting all flustered and—"

"But that's why we are here, dumbass" Robin interrupted him, crossing her arms over her chest. "So you can practice your pick-up lines on our cheap harlot" "Hey!" Steve chirped, again. "I'm not cheap!" "So you are a harlot" Robin laughed. "I can't do this" Eddie ignored them, already sinking on a spiral of anxiety and disappointment.

Unbeknownst to him, or anyone really, a certain someone knocked on Steve's front door. Their voices combined and Eddie's tantrum muffled the gentle knocks. The door was unlocked, and you saw Eddie's van, so you might as well just invite yourself in.

As you walked in, your eyes met the back of a leather jacket, Eddie was unaware of your presence as he continued rambling about how much he hated himself for being an illiterate fuck. Robin, on the other hand, saw you— But quickly pretended not to, instead, she pinched the bridge of her nose. She only had one chance to pull this card.

"Okay, Munson. Let's pretend she is here" Robin called your name and that made you stop your tracks. Were they talking about you? A lump of anxiety started forming on the pit of your stomach. "What would you say to her, if you had the damn ability to talk without sounding like an idiot?" "Well..." Eddie sighed, already feeling his cheeks reddening at the thought of your soft, caring smile, to the sweet sound of your voice. "That I like her, so, so bad. That I can't spend a single fucking day without thinking about her. How much I want to fucking yank her and kiss her every time she places a hand on my arm to ask me how my day was. Fuck, I think I'm in love with her. I wish I could tell her how fucking insane I am about her. I just want to make her happy, dude, but I can seem to form a single damn rational thought whenever I'm with her. I probably sound like an idiot" "Probably?" Steve asked from the kitchen's arch frame. He also failed to notice you. "But how in the hell I'm going to tell her all that?" Eddie gripped the end of his jacket with frustration.

"I think you just did, dumbass" Robin smiled and pointed at your direction with her chin.

Both Eddie and Steve screamed your name; One, by embarrassment of you listening to his literal love confession, and the other one because you saw him wearing a horrible, odd smelling wig.

Since then, you two had been dating. At to say it was practically like touching heaven, was bit of a understatement.

Sharing every little moment with him was absolutely amazing.

As time passed, other things started to happen as well...

It started off slowly, both of you exploring each other's bodies, learning what made you moan, cry, scream his name... Eddie was as fast as he was eager. This boy was utterly starved, and he treated you as his favorite desert, or meal, or drink, or whatever.

Robin and Steve usually bothered him of how much of a whiny bottom he was. If he had to pretend Steve was you to fucking ask you on a date (which was a disaster), how could he even have the balls to dom you when the doors were closed? They learned that under your sweet, caring façade, you were quite bossy.

"Eddie, let's go" You frowned, grabbing his arm. "It's getting late"

"But love" He whined, dragging the pet name. Sometimes he could be a pain in the ass. "I don't wanna go yet"

"I don't care, we have school tomorrow, plus you are driving me home. You're not drinking anymore" Your tone was worried and a tad annoyed, it wasn't your best day either.

"Go with your mommy, Eddiebear" Robin laughed, using the nickname she heard from you to tease him endlessly.

"Or else she will spank you" Steve joined, twisting another beer and throwing the tap around his backyard.

"Fuck you" Eddie groaned and flipped them off.

"Not our job, Eddibear" Robin snapped back and the pair started laughing until it hurt.

Eddie pouted the whole ride, already scheming what he had stored for you. You failed to notice how his eyes looked at you from head to toe, feeling already eager to bend you over the kitchen counter and have his way with you.

At the end, he couldn't wait either.

He parked the van next to a closed restaurant, closer to the alley where the trash truck drove by. Dragging you to the back of his vehicle and forcing his cock down your throat. He watched how the tears rolled down your cheeks, and how your hand sneaked between your skirt to finger your already wet cunt. Yanking your hair, he slapped your cheeks a few times for good measure.

"Keep your fucking words in line, okay?" He asked and you nodded weakly. Sucking the swollen, leaking tip of his cock.

"Sorry," You apologized, going down to lick and suck on his balls, making him groan in delight.

"What did you say, slut?" Eddie grunted and yanked your hair to rub his dick in your forehead as you choked on his balls, trying to speak. The muffled sound made him moan, close to cumming.

His hand on your hair tightened and Eddie slid his hard, thick cock inside your eager mouth again, fucking your face without any restrain, already knowing how you liked it, how soaked it made you, and of course, how much he loved it.

"F—Fuck" Eddie whined and came all over your face, pleased with your little cry of satisfaction. He watched you lick him clean and use your finger to smear it over your lips, tasting him, moaning in contentment. "Only I can fucking use you like this, did you hear me, princess?"

"Yes, Sir" You smiled and he leaned down to kiss you, shoving his tongue down your throat. "I love you, Eddie" You moaned against his lips as his free hand came down to pinch your nipples from over your thin tank top.

"I love you, princess" He sighed back, kissing you again.

💌 Bit of a rushed ending? I don't know. Hope you like it! Mwah.

Sorry for any mistakes! English is not my first language. Thank you for reading!˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚

#Anya is writing! ᜊ( ᜊ ´ ˘) ੭ #Anya’s love letters! ۪ 💌 ۫ #Anya dreams of Eddie!(〃＾▽＾〃) #eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x reader smut #eddie munson blurb #eddie munson x you #eddie munson stranger things #eddie munson x yn #eddie munson smut x reader #eddie munson oneshot

[raspberryslushie]

When You're Scared

Ft. Xiao, Wanderer, and Kazuha x gn! reader (Separate)

Warnings: crying 😔, cringe, freaking tf out. I didn't pre-plan this on a doc either, so it's kinda weird and messy to read idk. I kinda also messed up on pacing but it came out in a whim so WTV HAHA

Wanderer is referred to by his old alias, Scaramouche, since wanderer is more comfortably said as "the wanderer," but thats kinda wacky so i just got lazy and used scaramouche instead LMAO

Prompt: How would they comfort you in your times of need?

Xiao

He probably came in out of nowhere and scared you more than whatever else u were worried about before

Teleports in the second he hears ur sniffling tho 

questions u in all caps, bold, and italics irl

The second he realizes that interrogating you probably wasn't gonna help, he sits the both of you down and stares. for like half an hour.

Xiao doesn't know how to react when you suddenly cling onto his shirt and cry into his shoulder.

But it doesn't matter how long it takes for him to calm you down, because even if he's inexperienced, he'd do anything to make u happy again

Hands shaking and clenching into fists so tight to the point where your nails were digging deeply into your skin to the point of numbing, you felt a scream begging to tear itself out of your throat. But when those sobs of terror found themselves out, they sounded of something desperate, and you weren't the only one who heard.

"What's wrong?" A rough hand pulled against your arm and made you face the person in question, who was unsurprisingly stoic, weapon already out to fight off whatever might've been troubling you. Yet when you look into his eyes, they're frantic and scouring your form for even the tiniest of cuts. After all, Xiao promised the world that under his watch, none would do you harm. And as an adeptus, it was his duty to protect mortals who couldn't defend themselves.

But Xiao didn’t realize what was bothering you at first, because in his eyes, there was little to be afraid of when nothing else was in the room, yet the gods had sent down demons that even he couldn't conquer: your own mind. Even so, with you by his side he learned how to comfort someone without a spear in the moment that your body leaned against his, warm arms hugging around his torso tightly. What comes first from him is an awkward gasp that sounded like something between a yelp and a hiccup, but then you feel a series of gentle pats on your back, and soon the yaksha finds himself softening into your hug. It's comforting because maybe Xiao doesn't exactly mind the prospect of loving you like this after all.

Wanderer

probably isn't as sensitive to these types of things as Xiao or Kazuha might be

wonders who might be bothering you once he finally notices the tears rolling down your cheeks.

threatens u to tell him

pretends like he doesnt care

secret hugs at night or in private, because he's really just shy 

"Who hurt you?" Scaramouche stared you dead in the eyes, refusing to back down.

"No one! Archons, would you just leave me alone!" You hardly ever talked back to him so aggressively, and it’s at that moment when he finally realizes that you were scared, because once you brought up the idea of leaving him, he knew he felt the same as you did right then.

But Scaramouche knew no other way of hushing you up than to bring you close and smother you in his embrace because with how tightly his arms were wrapped around you, it might've been lethal. Once he finally does let go, it takes you a few moments to catch your breath. The second you look at him though, his expression has you in a chokehold. The boy wept for you.

He wasn't someone who felt too strongly about anything, no, and would rather end his own existence than openly admit his feelings, but how could he bear your tears? Abandonment left its marks on him enough times to dread the day you would too, leave him, and even if you hated Scaramouche for how he seemed to not care for any human decency, there was nothing he wouldn't do to keep your smile.

That night it took everything in you to try and act as if you were deep in slumber once Scaramouche made his way to your room. You felt him sit atop the bed before dragging the sheets across his form and pressing your back flush against his chest. Slender arms were covering your body protectively, and the entire night was spent by him mumbling quiet “I love you”’s until he fell asleep, face red hot and snuggled in your shoulder.

Kazuha

He knows fear as an emotion well, and knows you as a person just as well, too.

100% sure of what’s wrong and what you need bc he pays more attention to you than anything else.

If you’re in public and don’t want to be seen, he’d take his arm with the long sleeve and cover you with that and his body while you walk home.

Picks up take-out or makes you his own dishes once you get him.

Hugs and kisses irl please make out with me /hj

“Are you alright, love?” Kazuha puts an arm around your shoulder before looking down at you.

“Y-yeah, fine Kazuha.” Lies. And Kazuha knew that well enough to end your excursion early to head home. The city streets were crowded by festival times, and he was willing to leave early for your sake.

“No, you’re not,” He covered your face with his sleeve and guided the two of you away from prying eyes. “Let’s get back, the evening air is beginning to mellow out.” The rest of the walk home is wordless, aside from a few muffled sniffs and cries, but Kazuha made the panic drown out in the soothing winds that whipped around your hair.

By the time you got home, your heart had already found itself back at normal pace, and Kazuha laid you down on a blanketed mat. But you got up anyway to follow him while he cooked, for the sake of “company”. (He knew that you really just wanted to stay near him). 

The rest of the night you ate together in private, and as much as you tried to apologize for breaking down in the middle of your outing, he didn't listen into any of it, relentlessly pecking your cheek with kisses in his own way of telling you that it was all alright.

That night Kazuha actually had more trouble sleeping than you, for he was out past midnight scribbling down all the words he found himself fond of in the wilderness. One by one, the lines and rhymes flowed together, until you wake up the next morning to the smell of fried fish and a piece of paper on the nightstand that told you all the words he couldn’t last night.

#genshin impact headcanon #genshin impact #kazuha #xiao #genshin imagines #genshin x you #xiao x reader #albedo x reader #kazuha x reader #xiao imagines #kazuha imagines #xiao x you #kazuha x you #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #scaramouche imagines #scaramouche x reader #scaramouche #scaramouche x you #wanderer #wanderer x you #wanderer x reader #wanderer genshin impact #xiao genshin impact #kazuha genshin impact #kaedehara kazuha #🍓-Completed #xiao headcanons #kazuha headcanons #wanderer headcanons

[lightlycareless]

okay i have a headcanon but what if y/n has this like very new lip balm that has like a really good fragrance and taste to it and naoya is like "what did u put on ur lips" when they kissed

then goes on and buy like 20 of them so she would never run out of it 🏃‍♀️

and naoya gets comments abt how his lips look fuller and hydrated but its just the result of them kissing nonstop because of the lip balm-

Hello anon!!!!!

Now THIS is something I had lots of fun writing hhahahahahahahahahahahahahhaahha specially after that dream I got with the lipstick... everything is alingning....

I genuinely believe Naoya would obsess over something like this—like, he's intoxicated in your scent, now add something sweet/tasty? He's an addict :)

Anyways, I won't say much hehe I hope you enjoy the little drabble I wrote:

warnings: tiniest mentions/implications of nsfw (smut, you know, the deed) and making out. But outside of that, nothing.

Happy reading!

Naoya would first notice something glossy over your lips when meeting up with you for breakfast.

He doesn’t think much of it, except that it looks good, and that it made your lips look even more kissable.

Which obviously, he doesn’t hold back from doing whenever possible, he literally must kiss you once every 5 minutes or he’ll die.

When Naoya eventually kisses you goodbye, off to some other boring mission he needs to do, it’s when he spots the slightest difference from your always welcoming warm and soft lips.

Now, don’t get me wrong, those things were still there much to his heart’s delight, however, a new lingering sweetness would have him dumbfounded for a moment, carefully analyzing this discovery as he licks it up, wondering…

“Did you eat strawberries right now?” You’re no stranger to eating anything sweet that crosses your sight; but that would not be the case—In fact, you’re glad that he noticed, a bright grin quickly forming on your lips as you respond.

“Nope! It’s my new lip balm.” You explain, he raises an eyebrow.

“Lip balm?” Naoya repeats slowly.

“Well actually, a lip balm and an exfoliator! I found them the other day at the mall, that time I went with my staff, remember?” He nods “I was surprised that things like these existed for lips! So, I decided to give it a chance, and I gotta say, my lips definitely feel softer—look!”

You purse your lips into a pout which Naoya doesn’t hesitate to touch with his own lips, pecking them with a gentle kiss—rightfully amused when discovering that you were telling the truth.

“So? What do you think?” you smile, but Naoya doesn’t say anything, opting to give you a kiss instead… and another, and another, as if trying to convince himself he wasn’t making things up.

And you happily obliged initially, taking in all his gestures and returning them too, until you suddenly remembered he was supposed to be on his way to work, unless he wanted to be late!—and all because you wanted to show off your new lip balm, which he also effectively removed by now thanks to his kisses!

“Naoya!” You whine, and your tone was all he needed to understand what you were referring to.

“Just wanted to be sure of the flavor” Naoya smirks. “Didn’t catch it the first time.”

“But you guessed right the first time!!” you cry back, and he gives out a light chuckle before kissing you once more. You pout. “…well, at least one of us is getting their lips hydrated…”

“Don’t be angry, my love, I’ll buy you all the lip balms that you want if that’s the issue.” Naoya promises, pecking your lips one last time before departing off to his next mission.

Even when he had the means to do so (as well as past experiences), you wholeheartedly didn’t expect Naoya to keep his word regarding your lip balms; and you didn’t really care much for it either since you were still trying out this new thing—however, as always, you seemed to have underestimated your husband’s dedication and his fixations, for he quickly became an avid fan of your flavored balms, first seen on the new stick or scrub that would “mysteriously” appear on your vanity just before the other one ended…

Or by the way he’d grab your lips hostage with his, demonstrating both his well-known adoration for you, and newfound curiosity for the new flavor of the moment that lingered on them.

“Na—Naoya…”  you’d whimper, or attempt to through his incessant kissing, lips already numb at that point, as he cages you with his arms, keeping you underneath him and against the futon. “St—Stop…”

“What? I’m just trying to see if your new balm is working…” he murmurs, with eyelids halfway open and undeniably drunk in your scent and taste, desire is the only present feeling in his actions. “What is it… cherry?”

“I… I don’t know…” you blushed—but even when complaining about the breathless, heated situation he was putting you through, your lips still searched for his.

“I think so… but it doesn’t matter, we still have lots of flavors to go through…” he purrs before leaning down and closing the gap between the two with another kiss, tongue pushing past your lips and onto your mouth, diving deeper into the intoxicating combination of your flavor alongside the lip balm of the day, the newest sensation he didn’t know he needed until finally trying it.

“What will my little mochi taste like today?” Naoya teases you from over the futon as you apply lip balm onto your lips, just as you diligently did every morning.

Ever since your lips became softer thanks to your new routine, he proclaims you are now living up to that nickname, being the only one he calls you nowadays.

Not that you minded, it was certainly amongst the sweeter of his selection, nonetheless it still flustered you.

“It’s a secret.” You respond. By now Naoya has gotten you a thousand flavors, ones you weren’t even aware they could be used as balms—but given his craving to try them all out (from you), you determined to put on a different one every day just to keep him on his toes.

“Can I at least have a sneak peek?” he smirks. You giggle, shaking your head.

“Nope! Until I come back maybe.” Naoya scoffs, rolling his eyes. “I won’t be away for long, my love, just gotta pick up some things from the store. I’ll be back before you know it.”

“Don’t know why you don’t ask the servants to do it…” he says. “We could be spending the morning in bed instead.”

“Because I like to go out once in a while.” You respond. “Besides, this is one of your days off, I want you to rest.”

“Why? Think I won’t be able to with you around?”

You give him a look that asks him if he’s being serious right now.

“Alright, you have a point there, mochi. Just don’t take long.”

After finishing putting on your lip balm and fixing the last details of your makeup, you begin to make way towards him, intending to bid your farewells by kissing his cheek…

Before he outsmarts you by swiftly grabbing you by the arm, pulling you down to him, careful so as to not hurt you, but sternly enough to hold you against him, wrapping his arms around you as he looks down to you, a smirk on his face.

“Naoya!” you whine, attempting to free himself from his grasp, he chuckles. “I gotta go! My staff is waiting for me!”

“Give me a kiss.” Your husband orders. “Or I won’t let you go.”

Did you really think you’d be able to hold him off from trying today’s flavor?

Luckily for him, you love him so much that you easily indulge him without much insistence, giving him a quick, soft kiss at first… until Naoya’s greediness pushes him a step further, converting your soft gestures into a more heated endeavor, his tongue quickly savoring your mouth and your balm of choice—honey, coincidentally his favorite—by gently sucking and biting on your lips, enjoying the treat his wife willingly prepared for him, until the two eventually become breathless, only pulling away when they physically couldn’t continue together.

“You’re going to ruin my make up…” You’re the first to speak, moving your face to the side in efforts to stop him from ravaging you again—how you hated being the voice of reason.

“Alright, alright…” he breathes, kissing your cheek instead. “I guess I can wait for later tonight.”

“You’re insatiable…” you hypocritically murmur, giving him one last kiss before pushing yourself up from the futon, patting away any creases on your dress, turning around to the door soon after…

Only to sharply tense up when Naoya’s hand harshly lands on your ass, a smack that resonated inside the room, making your cheeks even hotter as you quickly aim to confront him.

“Naoya!”

But he only responds to your scolding with a laugh, ignoring your flustered reaction as he goes back onto the futon, attempting to make the best of his day off by resting, until you come back of course.

Because even if he had other things to tend to, it didn’t mean you were free of his clutches.

Naoya was known to be very diligent when it came to his appearance: well-kept and clean were some of the words most associated with him. And depending on who you asked, unconventional too.

But even then, there was no denying that he looked good, liked looking good, and was not afraid to do what he wanted to continue being perceived like that.

However, even when knowledgeable of this aspect of his… something did not match one day.

It was like he had done something to his appearance, different from the norm, yet no one managed to pinpoint what it was. Eventually spurting rumors about it, whispers, all from people trying to figure out what was odd from Naoya-sama’s face, without having to ask him directly…

Until a member of his personal staff was able to notice it. And when he did, he couldn’t believe it, perhaps didn’t want to, never thinking Naoya would be that kind of person, even with his vanity.

But alas, curiosity took ahold of the poor man, and with all embarrassment and courage in the world, decides to ask him.

“Naoya-sama, pardon my intrusion, but I must know.”

Naoya doesn’t respond, never does, really. He doesn’t like interacting with those below him, after all…

The man takes it as his cue to continue.

“Um… well, I… wished to know if you… put something…. On… Your… lips?” the man squeaks out the last part, anyone else would’ve thought he didn’t say anything eligible.

But for an irritated Naoya, with senses heightened thanks to that same frustration, it was nothing but clear.

“What?” he asks, with a tone that immediately makes his servant tense up.

“No, I mean—They look good!” He rushes to explain, thinking his question had been misinterpreted into something negative. “Hydrated… and all that. They seem healthy!”

“Don’t you have anything better to do than stare at my lips?” Naoya frowns, the room seems to start spinning around the man.

“No! I mean—yes, I do!” He cries, wishing nothing but the earth to open and swallow him whole, alongside his shame, humiliation, and blatant stupidity for having thought bringing up this topic was a smart career move! What was he even thinking? Oh, now he’s going to get fired! “I’m—I’m sorry.”

“Get out of my sight.” Is all that your husband says, not that he needed to do much after that; he didn’t even get a chance to threaten him before the man was already out of the room and far away, freeing Naoya of his senseless idiocies and allowing him to continue enjoying his meal in peace.

Yet, even when the interaction between the two was nothing less than undesirable, Naoya couldn’t stop himself from chuckling, finding his observation to be particularly accurate, hoping that you’d come back soon to continue his “treatment” and wondering where else it could also work…

bigasspervert... lol also I think Naoya might've thought his staff member had the hots for him, omg 😂 I mean what else could he think from that???? hhahahahahah

Anyways, I want to write that lipstick story. Imma do it. :) Hopefully soon, after everything else...

Thank you so much for sending in this ask! It was a joy to write for sure ❤️❤️❤️take care and hope to see you soon. ❤️

#ask #naoya zenin #naoya zen'in #naoya x reader #naoya zenin x reader #naoya zenin x you #jjk naoya #naoya zen'in x reader #jjk x reader #jjk fluff #jjk x you #prompt series: jujutsu kaisen

[drunkenlionwrites]

AAA imagine gojo coming back to civilian readers house after khm *recent events* when she thought he was gone forever after she heard what happened

Lucid dreams Warnings: none, g/n reader, though Gojo refers to them as "princess" and "honey"

Today you woke up earlier than your alarm rang, so you thought. Upon opening your eyes, you saw a familiar frosty locks of hair laying on the pillow next to yours. The morning light, coming from your not fully curtained window making it look less frosty, more light platinum. The long white lashes brushing the cheeks, the familiar scent and the sound of other person's breaths filling your bedroom.

The air inside the bedroom smelled like early spring, the morning breeze, getting in from the window made the hair sway the tiniest bit. Must be dream inside a dream then you thought. Well, it was not the first time, so you didn't dare to move or blink, or even breathe, wanting to prolong this moment of bliss where you can just busk under the morning rays, feeling the familiar closeness from your past happy days.

You looked, and you savoured, and you indulged yourself in this moment of happiness, not sure if you will remember it upon waking up. You must have not registered the movement of your hand, but you shrieked and hastily closed your eyes, trying to wake up, when the oh so familiar eye snapped open, the pupil constricting and dilating in the mere seconds, and your hand was snapped at the wrist by his own. “Heey princess, I thought you always told me I look like a piece of art…what, too Cubisme-ish for you today?” You heard the pouting voice, the one you’d never forget.

Terrified, you started opening your eyes slowly, awaiting for the dream to dissipate once you do. Only it didn’t. You were lying there, continuously blinking, awaiting to hear the alarm’s sound and looking at the cheeky grin and sparkling cerulean eyes facing you. Only it also didn’t. Gojo’s head plopped on his hand now, elbow landing on your pillow, your wrist still being held by his other hand. “No way…it can’t be…Shoko told me…Shoko told me...20 days have passed...it can’t be..” you started mumbling incoherently, your eyes fixated on your wrist, the feeling in which also was surreally tangible for a dream.

“Ohh now you won’t even look at me? I was hoping you’d missed me” the voice continued piercing your ears. “Or should I say ‘Honey, I’m home’ for you to acknowledge me?” he purred in your ear, pulling closer to you, his breathing fanning the side of your face, the indistinguishable smell of sunshine and all the sweet things in the world, that has been clinging to him, has also filled your personal space, now that he was so close to you.

“No way! Satoru?!” you said, perking up, taking your wrist from his hand only to push them to his torso and flip the man to his back, you now straddling his hips, palms against his chest, looking into his face in disbelief. He only smiled back at you, without a glimpse of teasing or cheekiness in it this time. Strands of his pretty hair scattered on the pillow. Minor eye bags under his eyes, which were usually absent there. All you could do was look at him and take in all these details, your eyes trailing all over him. “Honey, I’m home” he repeated quietly to get your attention.

Turned out a little longer than I expected. Oh well..

#jjk spoilers #gojo x reader #gojo x you #satoru gojo #satoru gojo imagines #gojo imagines #gojo fluff #lion writes #lion event

[existslikepristin]

Slightly long installment, but I did this to myself, so whatever

This upcoming week's going to be pretty busy, so the poll is set for a week. I'm guessing that I know the outcome already though, so if I happen get some writing time before the poll closes and yall aren't surprising me, I'll cut it early and go right into the next part

Tags: NSFW, S.M.U.T., genie, futanari, P-in-V sex, handjob

(Story Index)

The most versatile

“Hey, no, that’s cool Anecha,” you make sure to pronounce it correctly this time, “but just to verify, do you want to have sex?”

Anecha blushes bright red. “M-me, master?!”

You look around at all the other people in the room. It’s Joy. Joy is all the other people in the room. “Yeah, you.”

“With you?!”

She could be referring to Joy, but it still feels a little silly. “That was the implication, yes. It’s cool if you don’t want to I guess, I’m just a bit surprised since the whole idea—”

“I would love to, master!”

“Coulda just said that…” you mumble, “Well, awesome! Would you, Anecha, like to have sex with me... now?”

Anecha nods enthusiastically, and stands there, awkwardly fidgeting with her sword. Perhaps that should be put away sooner than later if it’s actually made of lava.

“S-sorry master, I don’t really know what to do now.”

You point inquisitively at her. “So, you’re a virgin?”

She squints. “No?” she says with a suspiciously Australian accent that she hasn’t demonstrated before now. Australian accent or not, you don’t quite understand, but not understanding has come with the territory since last night.

“Okay, well you have a pussy, I assume?”

“Yes master,” she says in a totally non-Australian accent, “as well as a penis.”

You take one more glance at Joy, who is paying absolutely no attention, mumbling down at your phone. “You know what, Anecha? That is excellent news.”

Anecha looks like she might cry from happiness. “Really? That’s okay?”

You place a hand on her knee and glide up her inner thigh. “It’s better than okay,” you say, “Let me show you what I think of it.”

She gasps and gulps when you reach her bikini bottoms. You rub around gently, taking your time to enjoy her tiny, sensitive vocalizations. It’s pretty obvious to your palm that she does, in fact, have a penis in there, though it’s quite small. That explains how you didn’t notice at first, despite the skimpy swimwear… or armor… it’s too skimpy to effectively be either, really, and it’s thin enough that it’s soaked through in seconds by Anecha’s pussy.

You stand up, reangle your hand to get inside the fabric, and give Anecha a kiss. You realize in the moment that you still haven’t kissed Joy yet, or at least not a proper kiss on the lips. But Joy’s weird, and Anecha seems like she’ll be much more interested in that kind of intimacy (an assumption quickly proven when she drops her sword and flings her arms around you in a sudden, heated passion (and not heated literally by the lava katana, thankfully)).

Not only does Anecha lean hard into kissing you back, but she falls quickly into time with your strokes. With the assistance of her hips, those strokes easily dip the tiniest bit into her wet core, before sliding all the way up, dragging that wetness to the tip of her short but solidly hard dick. You note with some amusement that there are no balls in between.

“Master…” she whines adorably, “M-may I have something more?”

You smirk and move around her, curling a finger into her bikini bottom as you do and pulling it down until gravity takes over and deposits it on the floor. Her ass isn’t especially big, but in tandem with her flared hips, it’s a pleasure to behold.

Anecha’s trembling hands follow you around, trying with great effort to stay attached to your body. “Master, are you going to…?”

“If you’re ready,” you confirm.

“Gods, yes,” she whispers.

Slipping between her thighs with the aid of an immense amount of natural lubrication, you press your cock to her pussy, and your entrance is so easy it’s accidental. No really, like you meant to tease her for a few seconds, but you just went right on in. Not that you’re complaining.

You take Anecha’s dick in one hand and cup her still-covered breast with the other. As soon as you do, she hunches down, groaning sweetly.

“Enjoying?” you ask.

She moans her response, “Yes. Yes, master. I-I’m sorry, I think I’m already close.”

“That’s perfect, Anecha. You can let it all out.”

Only a few more seconds pass before Anecha’s pussy tightens around you. “I’m… oooh, master!”

“Hey Joy!” you shout.

Joy looks up from her app tutorial and toward you, “Whassup, mast—?”

As you had hoped, Anecha’s first spurt of cum hits Joy just below the eye. Joy flinches back and blinks in surprise, then another spurt catches the tip of her nose.

Options:

Tell Joy to join you. Anecha surely won’t be satisfied with one orgasm.

Actually, you’re good now. See if you can put Anecha back in the app.

Wish for a camera to take a picture of Joy’s face… or actually, just take your phone back.

[firstofficerwiggles]

Gimme the Beskar Spear

An April Fool's crack smut fic

Pairing: Din Djarin x Female Reader

Rating: M/E, 18+ only

Warnings: Very bad SMUT, this whole fic is a warning, probably no one should read this, but if you do, be on the lookout for fingering, unprotected P in V sex, and terrible Star Wars euphemisms throughout. Also since “jizz” is “jazz music” in Star Wars, I have decided to use the ridiculous word “jyzz” thanks to the brilliant @tailorvizsla as we were discussing this challenge

Word count: ~1000

Author’s note: As part of the April Fools Smut Fic challenge that takes its inspiration from the Bad Sex Awards, I give you this terrible mess of a smut fic. You should read this as if you have only learned about sex through bad porn. Also please enjoy the many, many ridiculous Star Wars words and references to Star Wars creatures, food, places, animals, and what have you. Please enjoy it by laughing so hard you spill your spotchka!

Working for the Mandalorian, Din Djarin, meant you walked around like a lothcat in heat all the damn time. How could you not when you work with the hottest stud in the Outer Rim?

His broad hulking shoulders, as broad as a star destroyer, make your mouth water and those giant arms all corded with muscles like two sexy ion blasters make you wish to be their target. Not to mention his huge thighs, thicc like the gnarltrees of Dagobah, and that perfect ripe Jogan fruit ass that makes you think of all the dirtiest things in the galaxy. Din Djarin has some space junk in his trunk! 

You’ve been trying to get him interested in your lothkitty for weeks now. You prance around the ship wearing the tiniest shorts and tank tops. It’s the best way to show off your sweater meiloorun melons and your sweet poma-drupe fruit. You try to bend over in front of him as much as possible, even shaking your badonkadonk or shimming your chesticles to entice him. Once you even managed to brush up against him, and as you felt that big bantha salami in his tight pants you knew he was definitely happy to see you. You just need to make a big move because Din Djarin doesn’t do subtle.

You see him in the hull of the ship, cleaning his blaster, his talented hands stroking it the way you want him to stroke you. You walk over to him, popping your hips with each step, and then climbing onto the crate in front of him. Your feet are bare and you put one right in his lap, letting it seek out his forbidden trouser Dashta eel. You rub your foot back and forth over it while you bite your lip and tell him,

“Don’t you want to have some fun for a change, my big bad bounty hunter?”

His visor pops up to look at you, “You sure you know what you’re asking for, Cyar’ika?”

You can feel him growing in his pants, the Zillo beast is awakening and it is large. 

“I know I want you to give it to me, hard.”

You open your legs so he can see how you’ve soaked your panties and shorts with your glistening moistness. 

“Fuck,” Din says, his voice deeper and darker than the blackest of space. He grabs your clothes, ripping them off as if they were made of only gossamer tissue flimsi. His strength makes you whine for him.

You shriek his name as your nipples turn so hard and pointy like two shards of transparisteel in your chest. 

He chuckles as he plucks your sweet binkberries. The roughness of his leather gloves adds to the sensation, the feeling of the work worn material moving over your downy flesh makes you cry out again.

"Shit! Din, your hands are the best, I want those trigger fingers in all my tight places."

"You like my hands, I see you, licking your lips with that slutty Gungan-like tongue as you stare at them," Din’s voice rasps through the modulator, “And as for your tight places, that’s exactly where I want to stick them.”

You moan obscenely as he slams two of his fingers deep inside your wet cavern of mystery, pumping them with a vengeance. His other fingers rub your pleasure nubbin turning you into a bawling mess for him. You grip his biceps, crying out,

“Din, what big blasters you have!”

“All the better to make you cum, my dear,” he tells you, his fingers pounding your secret hot spot making you ooze even more girl juice around them. 

“I’m cumming for you right now!” you yell out as you shake hard and blow up like a Deathstar of desire.

Din brings his fingers up under his helmet and you can hear the sexiest slurping sounds, like he’s enjoying a delicious fried crispic as he cleans your feminine secretions from his gloves.

“Mmm, I knew you’d be tasty,” he says, “And now it’s time for the main course. You ready for a heaping serving of man meat?” He undoes his trousers and finally you get to see that big, girthy blaster cannon of his.

“Yes, my sexy metal man, gimme your beskar spear,” you coo at him.

In one forceful turbothrust, Din stuffs your special box full to the brim like you’re a Life Day roasted porg and you scream with pleasure.

“Fuck yes! Ride me hard like a blurrg!” Your cries of ecstasy bounce off the walls of the ship.

“Yeah, take it, baby, take my real Darksaber,” Din growls at you, pounding into you so hard your tits practically slap you in the face.

“Yes, it’s the most powerful sword in the galaxy, everyone wants it, and when you wave it around, they’ll follow you anywhere!” you shout your enjoyment of his legendary weapon.

Your hips are rolling like the waves crashing against the shores of Scarif. Each rise and fall brings you closer to another sonic charge climax. Din pushes your legs up high, bending and twisting you into a pleasure pretzel. His hips shift into lightspeed as he humps you like a draagax in its frenzy, determined to spread his love seed into your weeping hole. 

“Fuck yes, cyar’ika, I’m gonna bring you in warm!” Din yells.

“Do it, my hot hunter, make me melt with your twin suns of spunk!” You cry out.   

Your bodies undulate as you both chase that delicious release. The place where you’re joined is creating a friction and heat that is more overpowering than the Mustafarian lava fields. Convulsing together, you both explode in orgasm simultaneously. You feel Din’s searingly hot jyzz filling your precious Dagobah meat flower, so much that it seeps out of you. It’s mixing with your own vag sap, creating a blend of love nectar that is uniquely you and Din. 

“Mmmm, Din, you really are the best in the parsec,” you moan out, so satisfied and happy.

“Cyar’ika, I’m gonna show you I’m the best in all the parsecs,” Din tells you with a tilt of his helmet and an electric jolt of his hips.

You feel his one eyed Krayt dragon swelling inside you, and as he takes off again like an X-Wing on the run from a Tie fighter, you soar with him into a galaxy of pleasure far far away.

Thank you for reading this nonsense, I hope you enjoyed it and are not currently trying to gauge out your own eyes.

I'm almost embarrassed to tag people in this so to my loyal supporters, I apologize: @onabouteverything @boomtowngirl @kavecika @beskarprincessjenny @startrekkingaroundasgard @writeforfandoms @kazthedestroyer @ladykatakuri @noodlesfics @the-good-shittt @princessxkenobi @jewfro24 @vaderthepotater @pinkiemme @elinedjarin

#AprilFoolsSmutfic #april fools #crack fic #the mandalorian #din djarin #din djarin x female reader #the mandalorian x female reader #din djarin x reader #the mandalorian x reader #18+ #smut fic #smut crack fic

[princessmisery666]

The Fall - Part 2 Under The Radar Mini Series

Summary: Jake has proven he’s an asshole; you shouldn’t be surprised when he proves it again at graduation. But at least graduating means you’ll be free of him, or does it? 

Warnings: angst, mentions of cheating, injury described, fluffy Rooster, sex references. 

W/C: 3k

Rating: M (mature)

Characters: Lieutenant Jake "Hangman" Seresin, Lieutenant Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw, fem!reader (You. Call sign: Huntress), some needed OC’s. 

Pairing: past Hangman x Fem!Reader, Rooster x Fem!Reader, Hangman x OFC.

Notes: no descriptions of reader body type or ethnicity. Takes place before Top Gun: Maverick. First-time recruits at Top Gun. 

A/N: I am blown away by the response to part 1, thank you for every like, reblog and comment. I hope this part doesn't disappoint.

Betas: @deanwinchesterswitch / all mistakes still belong to me.

Graphics: title card made by me Dividers: @writercole

Master Lists: Under The Radar // Main //

The Fall

It’s here. Finally. The day you and your fellow classmates graduate Top Gun. Jake’s assholery got you set back two weeks with having to have medicals, but you're filled with an abundance of pride that after putting in some extra work and with Rooster’s help, you’re standing beside your colleagues on the deck of the USS Enterprise. 

The speeches are finally coming to a close, you’re all congratulated and told, “now the real hard work starts,” and you can’t wait to get out there. The formalities are done, and you get to relax and celebrate with your families.

Rooster’s mom and dad have passed away, and after the Jake incident, the two of you have grown closer, so he huddles with your family. He and your father start talking about football, and you know the conversation will be a lengthy and passionate one. You catch Rooster’s eye and mouth, “are you okay?”

He winks and gives you a thumbs up with a big smile before focusing back on your dad. You take a deep breath, breathing in the atmosphere. You scan the deck of the ship, watching happy reunions of families that have been separated for a while, the proud smiles of parents and siblings. It’s electric and joyful.

“Oh, he’s a handsome one,” your mom says, and you follow the subtle point of her finger.

Jake.

Like mother, like daughter, you guess. He sees you both looking and gives a dull smile with the tiniest of waves, but you give him nothing in return - not even a dirty look. 

Jake’s tried to speak to you all of four times. But you don’t make eye contact unless you have to or by mistake and only speak to him when absolutely necessary. You don’t even bust his balls, make no snide comments or react to him in any way. You haven’t since the night you broke his nose, almost two months ago. Figures that it healed perfectly aligned with his dumb face as if nothing had ever happened. 

You turn your back on him and focus on your mother. “Yeah, that’s Jake Seresin,” you mutter. 

“Let’s go say hi,” she suggests, already making a beeline for him. “I want to meet the rest of your class.”

“No, Mom!” you say, but it's too late; she’s already five steps away and not listening. You have no choice but to chase after her.

By the time you’ve caught up, your Mom has introduced herself and is shaking Jake’s hand while he introduces her to his parents. “And this is Amelia,” he says, pointing to the pretty blonde woman beside him. You assume it's his sister. “Everyone, this is Y/N Y/L/N, also known as Huntress.”

“Oh, hi!” Amelia says happily, rushing to clasp your hand in a friendly handshake. “I’ve heard so much about you.”

“Hi. I’m sorry I don’t know who you are,” you shrug, “Seresin isn’t much of a sharer. Are you his sister?” 

She laughs brightly and rolls her eyes as if she’s used to the question. But the way she gently wraps her small hand around Jake’s bicep, you know before she says it aloud, your assumption is wrong. “No, I’m his girlfriend. It’ll be three years next month.”

Three years. It rings in your ears like a siren. You see Jake’s whole body tense up, and you know he’s panicking. You feel a little sick. He’s made you the other woman.

“Wow, three years. Maybe it’s time you make an honest man of him,” you jest and not so gently punch Jake on the arm. You hope you hit the nerve, and it goes numb. Amelia laughs with you, a slight blush on her cheeks.

Jake’s mom asks your mom a question and the group seems to focus on that. You can feel Jake’s eyes boring into you, and when you finally look at him, his expression is both pleading for forgiveness and thanking you for not throwing him overboard without a life jacket. He mouths, “Thank you.”

Not ‘I’m sorry.’ It makes you furious. He’s never sorry because there are never any consequences to his actions. He smiles that perfect teeth smile that makes his tanned skin glow, and everyone forgives him. Not this time. Still, you’re not going to embarrass Amelia and cause a scene.

In return, you mouth, “go fuck yourself.” You know he understands as his shoulders slump and he averts his eyes. As soon as it seems polite to do so, you excuse yourself and go in search of Rooster.

“Three years!” you practically yell at Rooster back in your dorm later that night. “Three fucking years, and she has no idea. I mean, how many women have we seen him take home?”

Rooster listens without interruption to your rant. He should be used to it by now. Outside the confines of your room, you're completely and utterly impartial to Jake. Bradley jokes that you should have an acting career because you're so good at feigning indifference, but you don’t hold back inside your dorm and when Rooster is a willing ear to vent to.

“And now he’s made me the other woman! I should go break his nose again.” 

“You should,” Bradley agrees from his spot on your bed. “I wholeheartedly agree and approve of this idea.”

You chuckle, but only because your tears for Jake Seresin ran dry a long time ago. “I’d just get my ass suspended.” 

“Okay, I take it back. I like your ass, and I don’t want to see it suspended.”

That makes you laugh properly. He’s a goofball, but he always makes you smile. He waits until you’ve stopped laughing and then looks you dead square in the eye, “as much as I love to see your ass pacing up and down while you moan about Hangman, can we open our letters now?” he asks. 

“Fuck yes,” you say, forgetting about Jake and grabbing the sealed envelopes from your nightstand.

You both rip them open and unfold the piece of paper. 

“San Diego,” you both yell simultaneously. It's the assignment you wanted.

Bradley’s smile is so broad it's almost funny, but before you can comment on how thoroughly ecstatic he looks, he’s hooked an arm around your waist and pulls you into him. His lips press against yours. For a moment, you think he’ll step back and make an overly dramatic “mwah” sound. But he doesn’t. He holds you tight, and when your arms slip around his neck, his tongue prods your bottom lip, and as soon as your tongues meet, you melt against him. 

Breathlessly, you part, and his cheeks have a crimson hue. “Sorry, I just… I’ve wanted to do that for a hot minute, and this just seemed like a good time. Sorry.” 

“Don’t be sorry,” you shake your head, clearing the shock. “Unless you don’t want to do it again?”

“I absolutely want to do it again,” he says and follows through in doing it.

There’s a loud knock on your door, and you both jump apart as if whoever it is can see through the wood. You look at one another and burst into a fit of laughter before you open it. 

It’s Jake. Not surprisingly, the laughter dies immediately.

“Y/N, let me,” he starts, but you're already closing the door on him until he slams his palm against it. “Let me explain, please.”

“I don’t need an explanation, Seresin. I already know you’re an asshole. I shouldn’t be surprised when you demonstrate it time and time again.”

“Hey, Bagman,” Bradley calls from behind you. “What assignment did you get?” 

“San Diego,” he smiles, smug as if he expects he’s the only one.

Fuck! Now there’s really no escaping him. 

“Us too,” Bradley answers for you, and Jake’s face loses its color a second before you slam the door closed. 

A few months later. 

The adrenaline is still pumping through his veins when he watches you step off the helicopter. The mission failed; Jake fucked it up trying to prove a point. A point he no longer remembers needed to be made, and as a consequence, you had to bail. The few seconds between ejection and seeing your chute were the longest of his life.

He wants to hug you. To make sure you’re real, that his mind isn’t playing tricks on him, and you’re not actually burning in the fireball that became your jet. He can’t. He won’t because he knows you’d more than likely break his nose again if he ever tried. Still, that wouldn’t hurt more than the heat of your disregard toward him.

He’s not sure how to explain it but losing you, you not talking to him, it’s like a deathless death. Numbing and dark. And he desperately wants to be revived. 

As you get closer, he sees the scratches on your cheek, a rip above the left knee of your jumpsuit, a nasty-looking cut still oozing red, making you limp. It must have been a hard landing, he suspects, amongst trees.

“Huntress,” he says. You look through him. There’s that indifference shining through. You don’t even care enough to call him out on his shit for screwing up the mission. That’s probably what hurts the most - your indifference to him. “Y/N, please,” he pleads. 

Despite the pain it must cause, you stand to attention, and Jake sees Admiral Hart over his shoulder and immediately does the same, falling in line next to you. 

“We lost comms. What the hell happened out there?” Admiral Hart asks. 

This is it - strike number three. Jake will have his marching orders and be gone before the sun sets. 

“I made a miscalculation, sir,” you say before Jake can. Jake looks at you, and your expression is non-negotiable. You’ve chosen to tell the lie, and he has to go along with it. It will only land you both in more hot water if he contradicts you now. Still, you're taking a risk. Neither of you knows at which point communication was lost, so you could be digging your own grave.

Yet you keep shoveling. “I made a bad decision, and it cost us the mission. I’m sorry, sir.” 

“Sorry?” He shouts. “Nine months of planning and infiltration just went up in smoke, along with your eighty million dollar jet, and you’re sorry?” 

It’s a rhetorical question, and you both remain silent.

“You’re done here. Lieutenant Seresin, escort Lieutenant Y/L/N to medical, then back to the dorm to gather her things and directly to my office,” he commands before focusing his gaze on you. “I’ll have a new assignment for you by then.”

“Sir,” Hangman starts, but you take a step forward and interrupt him, speaking louder, “I understand, sir.”

Jake’s trying, he really is, but you can’t bring yourself to forgive or forget. It’s all still too raw. Every time you see him, you fight the urge to shy away with embarrassment. You're not embarrassed about the things you did. The things you're into are nothing to be ashamed about. But you are ashamed that you opened up and trusted someone who so very clearly didn’t deserve to see those parts of you, emotionally or physically.

Though you never respond when Jake brings it up, he just kind of talks at you; he’s still never said he’s sorry. Not that you’d ever believe him if he did apologize. 

So why did you step up and take the blame for something he did?

You knew the fuck up was enough to be reassigned. No doubt you’ll be grounded for some time too. So why take the punishment when Jake deserves it and more? 

You tell yourself it's the reassignment, knowing there was a way out, a way to be free of him without giving some weak ass excuse and asking for a transfer.

“Y/N,” Jake says as you limp your way toward the Admiral’s office, bag slung over your shoulder. “I’m going to come clean.” 

“No, you’re not!” you snap, still facing forward, refusing to look at him. “We’ll both be punished, and where’s the sense in that?” 

“Where's the sense in you taking the fall for me?”

“Cause it gives me an out,” you admit. “I get to get the hell away from you, and there’s no price too high to pay for that.” 

He stops dead in his tracks, and you continue walking. “You don't even care enough to hate me, do you?” Jake asks.

His tone carries so much sorrow, and it’s begging you to disagree. You almost feel sorry for him. But you tell yourself you feel nothing for him. 

“Nope,” you say, without missing a beat. “I’d say it was nice knowing you, Seresin, but I’d be lying.” You throw a peace sign over your shoulder.

Admiral Hart must take pity on you as he allows you to say goodbye to Bradley. He’s pacing the common room when you eventually find him.

“What the hell happened?” he asks, seeing you limping, and rushes toward you to help. He cups your face assessing the scratches and bruises forming. “Some guys said the mission was a bust, and you had to eject?” 

“I did, but I’m fine,” you reassure him, “I busted my knee up pretty good, but otherwise, I’m good.” 

“What happened?” 

Hangman. 

“It doesn’t matter,” you say and avert your eyes.

“Y/N,” Bradley tries again, knowing your avoidance in answering means something. 

You sigh and drop to a seat on the arm of the nearest chair. You don’t want to get into yet another discussion about Hangman. There are only so many times you can confirm someone is an asshole, and you’re running out of colorful ways to say it. “You know what happened.” 

“Hangman,” he asses correctly. “He fucked up and blamed you.” 

“He didn’t blame me,” you're quick to say. “I told them it was me.”

“Why?”

You don’t know how to answer that in a way that makes any sense, so you stay quiet. 

“Y/N!” 

“Bradley, can we not?” you ask, volume raised. “I don’t have much time. Transport is waiting.” 

“Transport?”

“They grounded me for a year, and I’m being reassigned.”

“What? No. That's not fair.” he starts to ramble about Hangman and how he needs to step up and take responsibility. He’s so animated, arms flailing, pacing back and forth, fists clenching and unclenching. “I can’t lose you. Not now. Not when I’ve just got you.”

“Bradley, Bradley,” you coo, standing in his path and putting your hand on his cheek. “I’ve been reassigned to Maverick.”

His relationship with Maverick is strained at the best of times, but you wanted him to hear the news from you. He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath before wrapping his arms around your waist.

“We don’t have any time, do we?” Bradley asks sorrowfully.

No, you don’t. You’ve only really just started your relationship, it’s been tough to find time with training and being in a new place, but you were working on it. There’s a deep pit in your stomach, and it dawns on you, perhaps too late, that your desire to be free of Hangman has cost you, Bradley. You want to take it all back, go to the Admiral and tell the truth, but you’re not sure if the punishment for lying will be worse. 

“I’m sorry,” you say, your voice cracking, and he dips to kiss you softly. 

“We’ll make it work,” he whispers, “I swear. We’ve got some time off coming up; we can go on vacation.”

“We’ll make it work,” you promise the same before he kisses you harder and deeper.

Six months later.

It’s nice to be back on the old stomping grounds. The Hard Deck hasn’t changed, and Hangman hopes it never does. The nostalgia is rampant. A memory of you surfaces in every corner he looks into, making him smile.

The jukebox, where you spent a few hours discussing music and kissing him whenever your opinions aligned. The bathroom, where unbeknownst to Coyote and Rooster as they sang a warbled version of “Danger Zone,” you gave him the best head of his life. He can’t hear that song without his cock twitching. The beach where you broke his nose. Even that, as painful as it was, makes him smile because it was a time when you cared enough to hate him.

He throws the third dart and hits the bullseye, the point embedding next to the other two. “That’s a fluke,” Coyote states, shaking his head in disbelief. 

“I’m just that good, my friend.” 

Coyote retrieves the darts and hands them back to him, holding a hand over his eyes as he lines up the next shot. Bullseye. 

“Ah, here comes trouble!” Coyote calls across the bar just as Jake prepares to fire again.

Jake turns to watch you maneuver through the crowd toward them, and Coyote steps up to envelop you in a hug. “What’s up, Y/L/N?” he greets.

“Surviving, Machado,” you reply, coming out of the embrace. You catch his eye and nod once, “Lieutenant Seresin.”

“Oh, someone’s still mad,” he jests to cover the seething jealousy that he can’t greet you in the same way.

“Water under the bridge,” you say, to his surprise. But there’s still an edge to your tone as if you’re saying it because you have to, not because you genuinely want to. 

“Wow, okay,” he smiles. 

“But I’m sure if anyone can find a way to burn that bridge, it's you, Hangman,” Rooster says, coming up behind him. 

“Oh, I have no doubt,” you laugh and high-five Rooster.

It’s nice to be back on the old stomping grounds, but he realizes nothing has changed. He’s still hung up on you, and he still despises the relationship you have with Rooster.

Part 3 - Just A Kiss

Oh imagine that a handy reblog button....

#jake seresin #jake hangman seresin #hangman #rooster #bradley bradshaw #bradley rooster bradshaw #top gun maverick #jake seresin x reader #hangman x reader #jake hangman seresin x reader #bradley rooster bradshaw x reader #rooster x reader

[heartbreakgrill]

‘violent delights…’: elijah mikaelson pt. 1.

a/n: forced to make this into two parts cuz i broke tumblr…and the second will be up tomorrow :)

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description: take romeo and juliet, but romeo is elijah mikaelson, juliet is a lounge singer, and the thing dividing them is the sexist owner named fred. playlist.

request: @theoriginalariamonroe ty for letting me have creative freedom xoxo

warnings: lots of blood, violence, injuries, cursing, misogyny, cringey romeo and juliet references. allusions to an ab*sive relationship, mentions of death, etc.

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"ladies, gentleman, creatures of the night-"

a soft roll of laughter rumbled through the crowd as the club announcer's voice dropped low, with the tease of horror.

then, the renowned owner, fred lavigne, continued, his figure outlined in the dim, lavender stage lights, "please put your hands together for the one and only...juliette dupont!"

every body filling the walls of the club jumped to their feet, whoops and hollers filling the space between  the music. it sung out from the speakers surrounding the stage, curling into the air sweetly, soulfully.

juliette dupont, dressed in her infamous purple evening gown, stepped into the same-shade spot light, the smoky air around her creating a hazey vision of beauty. she reached a gloved hand out before her, and wrapped it around the microphone displayed on its stand. the lights grew brighter as the music raised in volume. the club attendees were still glued on their feet, though their cheering quieted slightly. they anticipated her voice to cut through the night, ears practically perked like dog's.

then, she started singing...

"he left no time to regret-"

juliette's hip popped, hand poised perfectly on her waist, as the band intruded the rhythm of the song with a rehearsed beat, loud, teasing. the band held the note, juliette sayed still. the crowd cheered again in the intermittent silence.

juliette's lips curled into a smirk, anticipating her next phrase- "kept his dick wet-"

another pop from the drums. another pose. another cheer.

the tease continued, until they reached the 4th line of the song, "me and my head high...and my tears dry...get on without my guy!" by that line, the band was in full swing. juliette was commanding the entire room, swaying and swooning with ease, like she was the director of the room. everyone moved to her accord. she said jump, and they flung themselves.

juliette couldn't see much beyond the front row, due to the stage lights blinding her from above. but, the door to the establishment opened, drawing her gaze for a split second from the blaze of streetlights through the threshold. a figure stood in the door, emblazoned by the street lights. then, as the door shut, she lost sight of the tall, slender man. she continued on with her song, moving her eyes over the blackened crowd, gracefully. others came, but very few left the building- they were all entranced.

said man stood just inside the building for a moment, taking in the smokey club before him. he'd never been here before. he usually frequented his own part of town- but his family was starting to find him in even the tiniest nooks and crannies, so he was adventuring out, looking for a night cap.

he was happy he had picked this establishment. because, standing here, with this angelic voice singing softly through the speakers, he felt somewhat peaceful. though the music banged in his ear drums, and bodies pushed past him, the singer made the environment heavenly. his eyes lingered on her face, watching her glossy lips caress the crowd with gentle notes, words so carefully falling from her throat. she was absolutely beautiful.

and, her name was in big, purple LED lights beside the stage. juliette dupont. in all his years on this earth, he'd never met a juliette before. it was almost shakespearean, literally and figuratively. he was encapsulated by the singer, like romeo. may these violent delights have but violent ends.

the man took a seat at the end of the bar. he ordered one bourbon, on the rocks. and he curled into the dark corner, like a practiced star fixated in the night sky, like he belonged to the darkness. he planted a palm against his chin, and continued watching intently at the performance before him. he examined juliette's curves, shortly, before focusing on her face. she had soft, delicate features, but they were cut somewhat sharply by the makeup she wore.

juliette's eyes, a color the stranger could not recognize beneath the lights, scanned the audience. the dark figure was there, sitting just at the edge of the glowing round of the splot light. she swore they met eyes, and she played into it. that was her job- demand the audience, seduce them with her voice. she leaned forward slightly, one heeled foot dug into the stage before her. her manicured fingers wrapped around the mic, shoulders wriggling rhythmically. draw in the customers, rig their money. she was the siren, the club was a vast ocean. and she sung.

he smiled lightly at her, pleased at their interaction. she sent a wink towards the handsome stranger. he tipped his glass towards her, before she averted her attention again. it was nothing special for her, though he was attractive as he was. but, she couldn't focus on one person.

elijah reveled in the moment.

fred had moved back to his alloted seat behind the bar, slouched on a stool, coaxing back a glass of whiskey. he didn't pay attention as his employee sang- he never really did. he concerned himself, mostly, with alcohol, and bills. green ones. within the next few moments, like a hamster on a wheel, he'd start counting the drawers again, hastily checking to ensure every single penny was correct- only to end up in his pocket later that night.

but, before he could greedily count his coins, a fist rapped on the counter, just once, loud enough to make fred flinch. he glanced over his shoulder. the server was at the other end of the bar, mixing some drinks. so, fred turned back to his money. he licked his pointer finger and went to flip through some bills. but the same knock resounded.

"bar tender'll help you out, buddy," fred's real voice, not his practiced stage-play one, was gruff, southern drawled, and slurred. he tossed it over his shoulder.

the figure shook his head, a curt no. "no, thank you, sir. i'm not looking for a drink."

the club owner stood and faced the man. fred, many feet shorter than his overly-confident presence, shuffled about. he planted his hands on his hips, jutted out his beer belly, as if it made him taller. stiffly, "what are you looking for, huh?"

elijah mikaelson stepped forward, splayed his palms against the counter, looming, "a name."

fred's eyes searched the man's face, sharp edges and all. he thought elijah was scary looking. off-putting. "whose?"

elijah turned his head, locking his eyes on juliette dupont, who was now finishing up that opening song. she stood, breathing heavily in the bright spotlight, one hand poised against her waist, the other straight in the air, with the wrist limp and fingers curved up at the tips. powerfully feminine.

elijah beamed at her pose and, as the music for the next song wound up, he switched his eyes back to fred. "hers."

the club owner scoffed, lifted his depleting cigarette butt to his lips. "yeah, right, buddy. get in line."

fred turned back to his whiskey and went to take a drink of it, when that same fist knocked the counter again. he turned around, examined elijah's annoying smile. he knew his intentions. they were all the same. besides, fred didn't like trouble- and this creature of the night reeked of cautionary tales.

because he didn't like elijah's demeanor, he rambled off, growly, "listen, buddy, i know you're looking for more than just a name. i'm here to tell you to get in line. it'll never happen. and before you ask, she's not up for sale. we're a professional establishment, thank you very much." that was  a lie. fred sold- somewhat innocently- her and the other's singer's companies constantly. the crowd work frequently extended beyond the stage. any regular at the establishment knew that. but, fred knew this man wasn't a regular.

elijah lowered his gaze as he laughed, "i don't want to buy her company." silly suggestion on fred's part.

he couldn't help but feel slightly relieved. elijah was good looking. attractive men always disrupted business with fred's singers. the club owner flicked his cigarette onto the counter carelessly. a fleck of ash landed on elijah's wrist. fred watched it burn his skin with a satisfied smirk. elijah, whose eyes were still downcast, slowly looked up. fred's eyes lingered on the burn that disappeared within seconds.

fred, off-put, met the man's eyes. they were dark, stormy. fred took a step back, fearful. elijah smirked, "i just want to buy her a drink."

the club-owner waved two frivolous hands, denying any and all possibilities. another lie. and his hands were shaking  a little bit. "that's not going to happen, buddy. this ain't no strip club-" it had been, before fred was shut down, and he evolved the terms of his establishment under legal circumstances, just over 4 years ago.

elijah tilted his chin, smoldering down at the powerless man. "no?"

"no," fred took his turn to smolder. he slammed his palms onto the counter, "if you keep bugging me, i'll get security to throw you out. so you either sit down and shut up, or we can handle this outside."

elijah was, slightly, taken aback by the little man. fred was full of anger, and it amused elijah, to a point. he worried, though, for her- juliette. for her, and the other women who worked with her. for their safety. surely an angry little boss like fred caused problems quite freqeutnly. especially when he doesn't get what he wants.

elijah moved back to his seat at the end of the bar, frowning now. he ordered another drink and sipped infrequently as her set continued. when it came to a slow-burning end, elijah rose to his feet, clapping his palms together with everyone else. the lights rose slightly, allowing juliette to get a better look at the crowd. she blew kisses, red lips smudging on her fingers. a few people tossed flowers onto the stage.

fred eyed elijah, suspiciously, wandering if the creep would try anything. fred downed his liquor, and braced himself. he looked away for a moment, back towards his money. when he looked up, elijah was gone, his empty glass the only sign he'd ever been there. the owner looked around, wide eyed, and freaked out by the man's quick departure. he looked around the building, but didn't see him anywhere. fred shook his head of the worry thoughts. he had more important things to concern himself with, like his money, and his bourbon.

juliette continued thanking the crowd, joyous from the praise. she delighted as roses were thrown on the stage. the singer reached down to grab one, eyes still burning from the bright stage lights. her hand landed on another. she drug her gaze up from the ground, meeting the deep, midnight glance of the man before her. he held a purple rose between his pointer finger and thumb, a sweet smile on his face. elijah offered the flower to the singer. she smiled- a real, genuine grin- and took it from him. he quickly caught her other hand in his, holding her gaze as he placed a single, butterfly-awakening kiss against the back of juliette's hand.

and elijah thought to himself– "what's in a name? that which we call a rose by any other name would smell as sweet."

-

a few weeks passed sine elijah's first appearance. since then, he'd only frequented the club once or twice. he knew fred was suspicious of him. so he needed to keep some distance.

the performer looked for him every night. it was a pleasant surprise each time she spotted him at the end of the bar, in his self-proclaimed 'spot.' she would toss him a wink, a sweet smile. he would bring a single purple rose, kiss her hand, swoon her at the end of her set.

but he never tried for a conversation.

until tonight.

"thank you all for being so kind. all my love, new orleans! goodnight!" juliette sunk into her practiced bow, and she picked up a bouquet of red roses from the edge of the stage.

as she departed the stage, she stuck her nose into their silky embrace, inhaling the scent gratefully. it was one of her favorite parts about performing- soaking in the applause, the adoration. and the crowd's praise. the validation made her heart alight with valuation.

she thanked her band members in passing, on her way to her dressing room. and, when she finally shut the door behind her, her grin dropped. she was stone-faced. the singer slipped off her heels, shimmied out of her evening gown. she changed into a sweatshirt, leggings, fuzzy, socks. next, she sat before her vanity and began washing her face free from the makeup caked there. when she was finally finished getting undone, she tugged her bag over her shoulder, headed out the door.

the singer didn't have to stay tonight, didn't have to continue her painted smile. it was a rotated schedule between her and the other girls and tonight, luckily- if that's what luck was- she got to go home to the comfort of her bed and her cat. though she loved the crowd, she didn't like the individuals within it. many tourists saw the club as an attraction. but, maybe half of the club-goers were regulars- slimy, creepy men, with too much, time, and hormones on their hands.

fred was behind the counter, pouring over his money, as per usual. she pushed the divider up and back down to reach him. she splayed an empty palm in his line of vision once she was stopped at his side.

fred grunted in greeting, "next time, doll."

she took a deep breath, urging patience to find her. her fingers clasped shut, empty hand falling beside her. "you promised i'd get it tonight. i need groceries, fred."

he stood from his stool, barely an inch taller than her.. but, his attitude made him a dark tower, a controlling presence above her. "next time. we're short tonight."

she crossed her arms over her chest, "whatever." she pushed her way out from behind the counter and headed for the door. just as she exited the building, out onto the bustling streets of new orleans, she met eyes with a familiar figure.

elijah pushed off of the wall where he had been waiting, smile poised so sweetly on his face. if fred wouldn't tell him, he would find out for himself. "good evening."

she shifted slightly, arms loosening around her stomach. "hello." those dark eyes met hers again. they shone slightly under the streetlights, but the crevices of his pupils were dark. it was sweetly enticing- these stormy clouds he carried around. familiar butterflies tickled the girl's stomach. and she smiled.

he stepped towards her and held out his hand hand, "we haven't had a chance to meet. my name is elijah."

she lay her hand in his, watching as he bent forwards by his waist and kissed her knuckles. she liked when he did that; a responsive blush heated her face, "i'm y/n." 

"ah?" he begrudgingly dropped her hand. her skin was warm, soft. "no juliette?"

y/n shook her head as she shrugged. "juliette's my stage name."

elijah's head nodded curtly, "ah, of course. well, y/n, i wanted to tell you that i thoroughly enjoyed your performance tonight. you are a fantastic singer."

y/n was used to compliments. when she'd go into the audience after shows, drinking with strangers, faux flirts dripping off her cherry lips, that's all she'd here. and she had to pretend like everyone's words were original. then, they tipped her- fred would take most of the money- and it drew back their business. she was more than used to people shoving their adoration down her throat with repetitive phrases.

for some reason, some strange twist of fate, those words on elijah's tongue sounded like a unique penmanship, like he was the first man to create words, syllables. he was the first human to see her standing there.

additionally, she'd never even told anybody her name before. she was never supposed to- it took away the appeal of her stage persona. and fred would have a cow if he knew she was talking to a  customer, sharing explicit details of her life. she felt that elijah deserved to know, like he was worthy.

besides- she couldn't think about fred when elijah was talking to her, looking at her like he was.

"thank you," she brushed her hair behind her ear, perfectly done curls that were patted down with hair spray beginning to loosen on her shoulders, "it's nice to meet you, elijah." 

a crowd of tourists pushed between them. y/n laughed loudly as she and elijah locked eyes, forced to back away to make room for the stomping escapade of people. she waved slightly, an assurance that she was good, and she wanted to come back in front of him once the group passed. elijah tilted his chin, grinning. y/n then glanced around and spotted an open spot against the wall to the shop next door, free of bodies. she met elijah's eyes again and pointed towards the gap. he nodded.

"sometimes i forget how busy it gets," y/n laughed as she pressed her back into the wall.

elijah stood beside her, shoving his hands into his pockets. "it's a busy city."

"yeah," she breathed out. the moment made her dizzy.

y/n looked up at the man, still chewing on her lip. she was sheepish, especially when elijah tilted his chin back down to take her in. "how long have you been performing?" his dark orbs searched her vision.

y/n blew out a raspberry, cheeks puffing out cutely from the expression. elijah beamed as her personality started to shine through. she thought, "'bout 4 or 5 years now. since i was 18."

he nodded encouragingly, intrigued, "that's a long time to be doing this. especially so young. you must be exhausted."

"oh, you wouldn't believe," she rolled her eyes with a short laugh, "but it can be rewarding." plus, i don't have a choice, y/n thought to herself. she bit back the notions- she couldn't go trauma dumping on this stranger just because he was attractive. and kind.

beats passed, as elijah ventured through her eyes again. he noticed a hesitation there, a loneliness, twisted within the exhaustion. she was lying, just a bit. so pushed past her uncomforted feelings and boldly asked, "i know this is...sudden, but may i take you out for something to eat? you must be famished after such a night. and i want to continue our conversation."

y/n glanced behind her shoulder, lips parted in a wanted response. she bit down on her bottom lip, pained, as she spotted fred through the window in the front door. his face made her remember her place. "i'm sorry," y/n  turned back to elijah, "i can't. i've gotta get home. feed my cat."

elijah smiled, tight-lipped, "that's alright. another time." he couldn't lie- the rejection stung. but, he wondered if her look towards fred was the actual reason.

she couldn't help but grin at the handsome man before her. "another time."

elijah's smile opened up. so, it was because of fred. he was going to have be careful. more than he already was being.

after y/n bid farewell to her new friend, she watched him walk away, moving carefully, elegantly, through the crowded streets. her chest pattered, heart skipping a beat, her stomach whirling. elijah heard the rhythm of her navel, he nearly laughed at himself. don't get too hopeful, he thought.

y/n knew it would never happen. it couldn't. fred had eyes everywhere, all over new orleans. and fred liked to think that y/n- juliette, whomever- belonged to him. it was a star-crossed affair, and she should jsut let it go before it grew into conflictual belonging.

y/n made herself remember on her walk home what was at stake. a singular, fleeting moment couldn't be worth all the money she owed fred. no, it was probably worth her life.

–

another night, another crowd.

y/n stood backstage, feet aching in her 4 inch heels, toes crushed by the pressure of the deep arch. she swayed from foot to foot, the length of her dress balled up in her fist. she fanned herself generously, as sweat formed on her upper lip, between her armpits.

fred stood in front of y/n, peering around the curtain of the small stage, like a giddy child. "i think this is our biggest night, yet, baby."

she stood beside him, nearly coughing in the air of his cheap cologne, and followed his gaze to the crowd. the club was full to the brim, bodies lining every chair, every inch of wall. a small smile painted her cherry lips. the nerves vanished. this was what really made her stay- her debts be damned. this was what kept her alive sometimes. the rush of the room, the spike of adrenaline in her veins.

"that's so exc-"

"listen," fred turned back to her, grabbing either of her biceps as an interruption of her excitement, "you better give your best tonight, kay? stick to the music and the script. no funny business between sets."

y/n's face fell slightly. she tugged herself out of his hands, let her dress fall back around the dirty floor. last night, she had ad-libbed a few lines, told a joke to the crowd. she had forgotten she was juliette, and laughed a little too loudly. like y/n did. fred chewed her out after the show, threatened to hit her with a raised hand. she was a cog in his frivulous machine.

"okay."

fred patted her cheek with his palm. she flinched hard at the familiar positon. he ignored it. "alright, dolly," he flashed a thumbs up, and stepped out onto the stage.

she listened intently as he spoke to the audience, her heart aching from the interaction. ee never wished her good luck anymore- so she should just get over it. but, she missed when the magic was shared with someone- when she had support, a fan who knew her heart beyond the stage. fred used to be that person for her. he really did used to be more loving towards her, too. things changed, she supposed. stress, money, owning clubs like he did- it changed him. or perhaps the more obvious excuse she tried not to focus too much on was that he was just a manipulative ass-

"juliette dupont!"

she painted on her smile, strutting onto to the stage and into the lights. her body went numb with presence, dissociating from any nerves she could've felt, any sense of identity she had offstage. she shed her old skin and filled out the mannequin onstage. juliette began singing her signature song, moving along to the beat of the band.

towards the end of her song, the front door popped open, and in moved a tall, familiar figure. y/n's heart skipped a beat, and she missed a pose as the song moved faster. she caught herself, smile never faltering as she performed the song. nobody even noticed the mistake.

she couldn't see elijah anymore, as the spotlight arched over her body, binding her vision. but her eyes wandered the shadowy, smokey figures of the crowd, trying to find him. to find his comforting presence.

it was no use.

by the end of the set, y/n was feeling jittery. she wanted to speak to this familiar stranger again. she wanted him to be outside the club, leaning against the wall, with kind words lingering in the fleeting air between them. the way he looked at her- the way his brown shimmered in the moonlight. it all made her giddy with anticipation.

but she knew she couldn't.

so, she stopped herself in her tracks. y/n had gotten in her head. she took deep breaths, eyes fluttered close, caged her thoughts back to work, her job, her money, and fred.

y/n bee-lined for her dressing room, peeling off her heels. fred appeared through the stage door, though, cigarette in the corner of his lips, whiskey glass spilling as he hobbled to her. "uhuh, doll," he wiggled a finger. "you're on the floor tonight." he was wasted.

she wiped a bead of sweat from her forehead, brows furrowed, disappointed. did she read the schedule wrong? "i thought it was fiona and delaney."

"delaney did last night. it's your turn, baby. get out there and make daddy some money," fred moved closer, and wrapped an arm around her waist.

y/n shuddered a deep breath, trying not to focus too much on his grip, his reek of cologne and alcohol. "okay."

fred squeezed her hip, "that's my girl."

y/n slipped her heels back on, raising her nearly half a foot taller than fred. he really was weak- tiny. yet he made her feel so small. he winked, finally took his hand from her waist. fred hobbled, back out the door to the club. y/n rolled her shoulders back, taking a deep breath, before following his blazoned path.

a few club-goers cheered as she stepped out of the door, painted grin greeting them. juliette blew kisses and waved delicately. a few men crowded around her, drinks offers being thrown around like paper confetti; careless, insubstantial offerings. she let them touch her, her waist, caress her cheek. juliette took pictures with a few tourists, signed some of the photos fred sold up at the bar. he was right there beside her, plucking cash from people's hands like a bird pecking at seeds on the ground. juliette let two men guide her to the bar.regulars. fred shambled after them, demanding sums of moneyto touch her.

elijah was watching from the other end of the bar. "ironic," he mumbled to himself. so, fred did like to sell juliette's time when the men weren't 6'0 tall and intimidating like elijah was.

elijah coaxed some bourbon down his throat, and as he swallowed, his eyes focused in on juliette. y/n. he didn't care about the men showering her, or fred. just her. she slid upon a stool, tilted her head back to laugh at something one of the slimy men said. she carried herself so wonderfully- like a gust of wind, controlled yet somehow free-flowing. her hair shone under the dim lights of the club, ringlets caressing the curve of her neck like a kiss. he couldn't see her eyes very well, but he knew they were probably still full of life, so wondrously bright and warm.

god, she was beautiful.

he turned his head forward and waved a finger at the bar tender. the server strutted over, leaned upon the counter, "another bourbon, sir?"

elijah curtly shook his head, pressing his chin into the palm of his hand. "no, thank you. would you send a cosmopolitan, for the beauty at the end of the bar. and, could you somehow make it purple?"

the bar tender followed elijah's gaze as it focused on y/n. he chortled, and pointed to fred, "the owner charges $10 extra on drinks for the performers."

elijah leaned back in his stool, and tapped his fingers against the counter. "purple cosmo, please."

so, the bar tender went to work, mixing the lavender-hued drink quickly. elijah continued to watch juliette. who grinned, accepting a drink offered to her from the man on her left. it was a shot of tequila. she cheers-ed with the club goers, before tapping the shot glass onto the counter, and tilted her head back to slide it down her throat- no! she tossed it over her shoulder, emptying the liquid onto the floor behind her. elijah saw fred roll his eyes at her antics. the former man bit both his lips, holding in a pleased laugh. that was y/n.

then, the bar tender moved down the counter, setting the drink before juliette. she pressed a hand over her heart, thanking him graciously. elijah watched her cherry lips form the question, "who's it from?"

the bar tender pointed to elijah. then, fred, the two men, and juliette followed his finger. elijah dipped his chin, raised his glass in a short wave, grinning. fred rolled his eyes, again, and the two men beside juliette looked between each other grimly. oh, did elijah feel pleased with himself.

y/n's smile brightened, her hand raising and waving wildly with excitement. fred reached a hand forward and pinched her side. she seemed to remember herself and her hand dropped to her lap. her smile stayed.

elijah watched as the two men went back to stuffing her ears with their voices. his face was a little warm with anger at fred's balls.

but, as she admired her drink, absentmindedly nodding along to the men, elijah could care less about anybody but her. she wrapped her pretty red lips around the straw, and took a sip of the liquor. it left a red lip print on the straw.

she looked over, again, towards elijah, and her heart sunk when she saw his seat was empty.

fred followed her gaze, glaring. he added this second disappearance to the list of reasons why he ought to watch out for the strange customer.

he had suspicions- and god forbid he be right. elijah would have more to worry about then catching y/n's affections.

–

elijah was there every night from then on. he watched from the same stool, nursing the same glass of whiskey, wearing the same, glowing grin. almost every night, too, he gifted y/n with a purple cosmopolitan. she was always grateful for the drink. it was just enough alcohol to get her through the conversations with the men who crowded her. and it was beautiful. purple was her favorite color. that was the only part of her character that was true to y/n- the color scheme. lavender, the hazey color of tender romance.

and she couldn't help but admit that she enjoyed his presence. it was growing ever-friendlier. comforting. consistent. when she felt anxious on stage, rigid during her visitations, she simply found his gaze. and his sweet smile would coax her down. she barely knew anything about him- but you could always tell the type of person based on their eyes.

and his were like a golden-brow ray of sunshine, piercing her with homeliness.

elijah always left after sending her the drink, though. she would look for him, down at the end of the bar, after taking a sip. and his seat would be empty. it was touch and go- a gentle routine, one that tickled y/n. he wasn't demanding her attention, her time. he wasn't flashing his money and stealing her company with dollar bills.

elijah was just there- a fixture. a fly on the wall.

it was strange, to say the least. but she enjoyed their game of cat and mouse. y/n anticipated the day they would speak against, the day she'd walk out of the club, and he'd be waiting for her, leant against the wall. to hear his voice was to be seen. she wanted him to ask her out- even if she'd have to reject him. she wanted to know that elijah craved her like y/n yearned for him.

she'd catch these lights before they flew away from her. at night, she'd scribble them all down in the journal. try to be mindful throughout the day, and and ignore them as they pecked at her skull. 

however, one night, when he ordered her drink, he slipped a note to the bartender. a napkin, filled with messy, scrawled handwriting. elijah knew he was on thin ice. he knew fred was watching him carefully. he kept telling himself he would lay off, stop coming around so much. but, then he'd see on that stage, sitting at that bar. and he'd forget danger. forget about anything but her.

the bartender, a friendly coworker to y/n, made sure fred was looking away when he slipped it to her. "parting is such sweet sorrow that i shall say goodnight till it be morrow."

y/n grinned wider than she ever thought possible. it was a passage from romeo and juliet. so, elijah seemed to be a hopeless romantic. it only made the thoughts stronger, her affection fonder. it made it much more difficult for her.

fred peered over shoulder. luckily, y/n heard his breathing before he could peek a glance at the note. she stuffed it down her bra. when she got home, she pinned it on the white board stuck to the front of her fridge.

the next day, before the show, she started rereading romeo and juliet.

-

a month had passed since he first introduced himself. since he first began viewing her shows. and that day, that non-existent, yet treasured anniversary, was going to prove to be the day y/n had been waiting for.

y/n walked out of the club, a little giddy because fred had given her a bigger pay out than usual. she had planned on it using it to buy a new book she'd been eyeing. and tomorrow was her day. her focus was pointed down, at her purse, as she shoved the wad of cash into her wallet. the door pushed open at impact to her shoulder, and it swung shut with a soft click.

a throat cleared to her left, and y/n flinched harshly at the sound. she looked up from her bag, jaw clenched with fear. her gaze met elijah's, warm from his smile, and her shoulders relaxed.

"you scared me," she grinned, busy hands dropping to her sides.

elijah stepped forward, arms crossed behind his back, suit pristine and sharp. "my apologies, y/n."

her name, her actual name- not some stupid stage-name- sounded so beautiful. it shivered her heart. "it's okay."

elijah hesitated before continuing, "how are you?"

y/n thought for a second or two. it wasn't often that anybody asked how she was. club goers wanted to know only a handful of things- if she would do a shot, what she was wearing beneath her evening gown, or if she would sing their favorite song. nobody ever asked how she was. not fred, not the other girls, who were jealous of her spotlight. her cat couldn't speak much. and the cashier at the super market didn't count.

nobody but elijah had asked her this in weeks. maybe months.

"i'm...okay," she answered, honestly. a deep breath trembled off her elbows. "you?"

"i am doing well, thank you," elijah dipped chin. "i don't mean to be rude, and pester you...but i was wondering..."

y/n's smile widened as he trailed off. she'd been thinking about him for weeks, about this specific possibility. the fact that he was standing here, asking her out again- she just had to say yes. fred be damned. she wanted to be known, to know him. so what if fred cursed her out, if he hit her. the good was always worth the bad.

"im starving," y/n admitted. "there's a diner down the road. do you like breakfast food?"

elijah furrowed his brows, "i love waffles." y/n giggled in response. he was so...serious. stiff. the fact that he loved waffles was extremely adorable.

elijah stepped to the side and gestured with his hand, "after you."

they fell into step on the sidewalk, pushing through the crowds carefully. each time someone bumped into y/n, he pressed a steady hand onto her back, ensuring her steps weren't interrupted. she'd look up at him, skin scorching under his touch. and they would share this adoring smile. it was indescribable. you just had to be there.

when they finally reached the diner, y/n's stomach was growling. she was grateful he couldn't hear it. and he tried not to laugh out loud each time his super hearing picked up on it.

she chose a booth towards the back of the diner, one where the light bulb above was nearly burnt out. she ordered a water and an oreo milkshake. elijah asked for a coffee.

y/n laughed after he ordered his drink. he looked to her and rose a brow, "what?"

y/n tucked her hair behind her ears, "a coffee? this late? are you going to be able to sleep?"

elijah shrugged, "i don't sleep very often."

y/n crinkled her nose, "insomnia?"

elijah shook his head. "i just...don't like to."

she giggled again, "o...kay. well, tomorrows monday. so, don't you have work? you need sleep to work."

elijah shook his head again. "i don't work."

"you're very strange. and cryptic. you're not a serial killer, are you?" she pointed to him accusingly, a smile on her face. she knew he had to be rich, rich if he could afford those drinks he bought her every night and not work. not that she cared much about money- she was just trying to know him better.

elijah swallowed another laugh, "no, no. i promise i'm not. and; i know i'm strange. i apologize for that."

"you don't have to apologize. im strange, too."

the waitress set their drinks down upon the table. y/n reached for a straw, opened it, and took a big swig of her milkshake. her real personality was forming, tried and true before him. it was so pleasant.

elijah stirred some creamer into his coffee as the waitress asked, "y'all ready to order?"

y/n laughed, quickly opening her menu. "i forgot to even look."

elijah watched her face as she scanned her eyes down the pages of the menu. she felt his gaze and glanced up, "look at your menu, weirdo. she's waiting."

elijah looked to the waitress, who popped a hip and crossed her arms. she was very annoyed, even though the diner wasn't busy. elijah quickly dipped his head and flickered his eyes across the menu's pages. he sneakily peeked over the top at y/n, whose menu was already folded in front of her. she blushed as they met eyes.

"i'll just have two chocolate chip pancakes. and a couple chicken strips. please?" y/n handed her menu to the waitress, averting her eyes from elijah's. "thanks."

the two women looked back to elijah, who was still flicking through the menu. he looked a little stressed by the pressure their gaze enforced. y/n reached forward, tugging the menu out from beneath his gaze. he looked at her, a little stunned. she handed it off to the waitress, "he'll just have three waffles. yeah?"

elijah stared blankly, "s-sure."

"cool. thank you, ma'am," y/n called after the waitress, her southern accent bleeding through more noticeably. the latter woman flicked her wrist back at them.

y/n crossed her arms over the table in front of her. she propped a chin up on her fists, gazing curiously, "so...elijah."

he tilted his head, a grin creeping up on his face. she looked so beautiful in this faded lighting. "y/n?"

"tell me about yourself!" she raised her hands. "you're, like...my stalker. and i don't know anything about you."

elijah chortled, "there's not much to know."

"don't be cryptic or else i'll leave," y/n warned with a pointed finger.

elijah sat back, leaning his wrists on the edge of the table. "might i ask why you agreed to this?"

y/n shrugged, resting her arms again. "i'm intrigued by you. you come in every single night, and you never speak to me. you just buy me a drink...like what kinda game is that?"

he replied, "i enjoy your singing. and...i don't want to be non-gentlemanly by hovering like those people do."

y/n drug her eyes over his face, squinting slightly. "...are you, like, one of those self-proclaimed nice guys?"

elijah furrowed his brows, taking a sip of coffee despite his confusion. "a...what?"

"you know," y/n crossed her arms, "guys who think basic social expectations deserve to be rewarded with sexual favors. like, if you're nice to be during this conversation, and you pay for dinner, you're gonna expect me to send you a picture of my boobs later."

elijah's bottom lip fell from his top, brows drawing tighter together, wink king his forehead. "people like that exist?"

y/n widened her eyes, smiling at the exchange. "what century are you from?"

she scanned his face as his eyes flickered. her smile faltered- wait- why did he look like he was actually from a different century?

"are you- nevermind." y/n began to sarcastically inquire before cutting herself off with a laugh. he was weird, and she loved it.  "just look it up online."

"what is the online?" he cleared his throat, hoping she would move past her suspicious looks.

y/n simply burst out laughing, bent forward over the table, her shoulders shaking. elijah couldn't help but grin. her laugh was ridiculously cute.

"the online?" y/n emphasized. "no, it's just online. the internet. the web. you can look stuff up there."

elijah oh'ed, pink lips parted. then, the waitress interrupted the moment by placing their before them. hungry silence filled the space between them as they settled in with their food. y/n took a big bite, and elijah started cutting up his waffles."

"so...anyways-" y/n started,

elijah matched her words, "anyways-"

their eyes latched onto one another. they laughed.

"go ahead," elijah waved at her with his fork.

y/n chewed, covering her mouth with her hand, and swallowed before continuing, "so...now that i know you're a time traveler, i'm completely sold. tell me about yourself. full name, age, why you are weirdly rich but don't go to work...go!"

elijah looked thoughtful. he wiped the corner of his mouth with a napkin, and answered, "my full name is elijah mikaelson. i am 30 years old. i have...investments that don't require my full attention. so, i spend my time trying to live a fulfilling life. literature, film, music. i enjoy it all. plus, this city is full of culture. and i am but a consumer."

y/n smiled, watching him speak. he was just...ethereal. interesting. then, elijah motioned to her with his coffee cup before taking a sip.

"oh," y/n cleared her throat, "mine's not as fun; i'm y/n y/l/n...uh, i'm 22. i unfortunately do not have the luxury to explore the city. in fact, since i moved here four years ago, i've not once stepped outside of my district. i go to work, sometimes the bookshop below my apartment, and home. that's all. though, i'd like to use your time travel powers sometime to slow the world down for me. i need a day to myself, ha."

elijah frowned as she finished rambling. "so, you've never explored the city?"

y/n shrugged, "nope. i don't have the time. or money."

"do you get any days off from the club?" elijah inquired.

"usually sundays. just that one day, though."

elijah set his fork down, wiped his mouth with the napkin again, and dropped his hands to his laps. he looked...annoyed? "how much do you even get paid?"

conventionally, that was a rude question. but elijah wasn't offensive. y/n could tell. "enough for rent. fred takes the rest," y/n's throat tightened a little. she looked down at her plate.

"and why does he do that? that's money that you obviously work very hard to earn. he can't just...take it," elijah demanded. he was starting to hate this fred guy.

y/n clutched her fork, "uh, he can, actually. it's just...complicated." she went silent.

elijah didn't press. he could tell that y/n was uncomfortable with the topic of conversation. so he laid off. he asked her a question about this bookshop, and enjoyed the shift as her face lightened up with a bright, beautiful grin.

but, he couldn't help but feel uneasy. he wondered if he should actually start hanging around more, and make sure that this fred character wouldn't lay a finger on her.

he would simply not be able to live with himself if anything happened to y/n, he decided within that moment. his own safety didn't matter anymore.

–

they were risking everything.

fred would not be happy with her for going to a diner with a customer- a man, someone who wasn't him. and he definitely would not be happy to learn that their friendship did not stop there. he would be furious to know that she saw him again and again.

but they couldn't stop it, the snowball.

the second of many was on another night like before. he asked her on another diner date. y/n, rightfully worried about fred, told him no.

"but you can walk me home?" she counter-offered, after an anxious glance over her shoulder. fred's body guards were littered by the door, the bar, and the stage. fred himself was counting money furiously.

they could stick to the edge of the sidewalk, against the buildings, in the dark. no one could see them if they kept moving. yeah, that could work. she could have her cake and eat it, too. this could be okay.

elijah pursed his lips, the small smile on his face tugging one onto y/n's. "as long as you'll let me carry your bag."

y/n giggled, holding up her purse. "you can handle the strange looks from tourists?"

oh, if only she knew what elijah had been through. carrying a woman's purse was nothing compared to all he'd done and all he'd seen. it was a walk in the park, almost literally.

and, so he walked her home, carrying her pink purse confidently over his shoulder.

they talked and talked and talked. so much so, that, at certain points, y/n would run out of breath. elijah would chuckle as she'd interrupt herself with an, "oh, my gosh, hang on-" and take deep breaths. and, then, she'd jump back into a story from her childhood.elijah chimed in, here and there, but she devoured the conversation.

and he could not mind it. becauae elijah was qucikly convinced she could read him the bible and he would become a devout christian just because she had religion on her lips.

"this is me," y/n interrupted herself once she noticed her apartment was right there in front of them.

she stuffed her hands into the pockets of her jacket, a blush rolling over her face. she always hated saying goodbye- it was corny, and awkward.

elijah stood, holding onto the strap of her purse, admiring the bookstore before him. "this is a beautiful building."

y/n grinned. he appreciated ordinary things. "i think so, too. im very lucky to have landed it."

elijah turned to her, handing off her purse. "i'll have to stop by sometime and meander the bookstore."

y/n nodded, "you should! it's a hole in the wall. but, they are closed on sundays. and that's usually my day off- not that you were at all suggesting you wanted to come with me. sorry, that was-" y/n blushed deeper, annoyed at her own suggestive thoughts.

"i was," elijah interrupted. of course that's what he meant.

she looked to the cheeky smile on his face. "well, maybe i'll talk to fred and see if he'll let me get a different day off."

"you should. he really should give you more days off anyways. it's unethical," elijah replied, letting his own thoughtful opinions spill. he noticed that comment made y/n uncomfortable. she bit her lips and looked, uncomfortably, down at the sidewalk. elijah made a note to never mention fred, and picked back up the conversation's original subject, "i am interested in knowing what books you enjoy."

"you can always tell the type of person by the type of book they like," y/n finished his probable thought. "well, i know you like romeo and juliet. but, what is your favorite book?"

elijah appreciated that she was dragging this out. he stepped to the side as a person came running down the sidewalk, bright neon pants suggesting he was exercising. he touched y/n's shoulder, reflexively protecting her. his fingers lingered for a second, basking in the warmth bleeding through her jacket from her skin.

he sheepishly dropped his hand, "the stand. stephen king."

"you're so hot," y/n slipped out. she shocked herself, and her jaw fell open for a moment. then she saw the blush paint over elijah's cheeks, and the goofy smile he wore in response. she grinned widely, giggling at her own foolishness. "sorry. that is just a really good choice."

elijah chuckled, too, shaking his head. he rubbed a hand against his cheek, willing away the red there. "thank you?"

they continued to laugh for a moment or so, before y/n continued, "mine is little women."

elijah nodded approvingly, "a classic. so are you of the belief that jo and laurie should have ended up together?"

y/n frowned deeply, scrunching her nose, and shaking her head slowly. "if they ended up together, it would have ruined the entire premise of the story."

then, she watched his eyes for a moment, and her face slowly fell as she recognized the shame swimming within his dark pupils. "no...elijah- no!"

he grinned cheekily and shrugged. "what can i say? im a sucker for friends who become lovers!"

"yeah, me, too- but- but- no! no, you can't!"

their argument didn't end there, not by a longshot. they spent a minutes- probably closer to about 20- just countering each other's points for their personal beliefs. though he thought she beautiful, she just could not sway him.

then, y/n happened to look down at her phone screen and she was shocked by the time. they bid farewell. she rushed upstairs after closing the door to her steps. he had waited until he heard the lock to her door click to. she watched him from the window. he lingered on the sidewalk with that handsome grin on his face. he kicked a rock across the concrete, before shoving his hands in his pockets, and beginning to walk away.

y/n smiled brightly, and let out a soft sigh. elijah's ears pricked up at the sound. he turned back towards her apartment, and spotted her in the window. y/n gasped as he met her eyes. she fell to her knees, praying to whatever god that he hadn't seen her.

he simply bit back a wider smile, and continued on his way home.

–

a week had passed since the walk home. elijah, begrudingly, stayed away from the club. he didn't want to risk y/n's safety too much. it pained him to not see her face, though.

so, he finally started coming back. the week without his face was awful for her. she was hopeful each time she went on stage, and that hope got diminsihed by his absence. when she spotted him there, in his spot, she couldn't help but grin.

he beamed back, raising his glass to her.

then, they saw each other throughout the week, at the club. elijah continued to buy her drinks, and y/n continued to exchange longing gazes across the bar. he'd always leave too soon, and although y/n wished he would stay, she knew that it was for the best. fred would grumble in annoyance elijah's deserted seat every night. he was suspicious of elijah, though she didn't know why. probably because he was handsome and made y/n shine through juliette's demeanor. y/n just hoped nothing would happen to elijah. though it would be her fault if it did. fred was...territorial. and she was practically dangling meat in front of the dog.

on saturday evening, after y/n was finished entertaining club-goers, she retired to her dressing room. she changed her clothes, washed off her makeup, and was ready to leave, go home, and enjoy her day off. elijah had not shown that night, which was probably for the best. fred was in a particularly bad mood.

a knock came from her dressing room door just as y/n was tugging her purse strap over her shoulder. her posture slumped when she turned her head and saw fred pushing through the door frame. "you're coming in tomorrow," he stated, matter of factly, with his pudgy hands on his hips.

y/n frowned, already sunken stomach even more panged, "what? no, tomorrow is my day off."

fred raised a pointed finger, and y/n flinched, taking a step back. he squinted his eyes at her, angry at her defiance, "you're coming in tomorrow. 9pm. i won't make you stay after, but i need you to perform. delaney's sick."

"well-" y/n stuttered, face red hot, "well, can i get monday off or something? i can't work this many days in a row. i-i'll get sick, too."

fred lowered his hand and thought for a moment. he sighed, as if he actually felt guilty. "fine. monday. but, you better come in tomorrow with a better attitude."

y/n tried to smile sweetly at him, though there were exhausted tears brimming her eyes. "thank you so much, freddie."

she stepped past him, ready to go home and pass out before she had to be back here. fred grabbed her wrist, halting her to a firm stop. "cmon, baby, give me some sugar."

y/n trembled under his hand, as it snaked around her waist, pulling her firmly against his side. she took a deep, shaky breath, before leaning her head over towards his and kissing his cheek.

fred hummed as she displayed the forced affection. he squeezed her hip and said, "alright, doll. get outta here."

how gracious of him.

she rushed out of the club, nearly running home, with tears streaming down her face. y/n was just so, so tired. and fred was pushing her to a limit she didn't want to reach. she wouldn't be able to come back from that.

y/n jammed her key into the door knob that opened to her stairwell, shaking still. a voice appeared over her shoulder, calm, yet laced with gentle worry.

"are you alright?"

y/n twisted her head, hair whipping across her shoulder in a frenzied fear. she let out a huff when she met elijah's eyes, relieved, "you scared me."

he flashed a small smile, "my apologies. a-are you alright? you're shaking."

y/n looked down at her hands and saw them doing exactly as he said. she laughed at herself, sniffling, "oh, god. i just- i'm tired. i'm okay. just-just tired, yeah."

elijah nodded, though a piercing in his eyes showed he didn't fully believe her. "i was going to wait outside the club, but...i think i should stay away from that place for a while. fred doesn't particularly seem to like me. i hope it's okay, i've met you here."

y/n nodded and tried to smile, "yeah, yeah, it's fine. i was actually...looking forward to see you. i-i have some decent news." a breeze whipped through the street, and y/n shivered. she tugged her jacket tighter across her body.

elijah stepped forward, waving towards the apartment, "would you like to go inside?"

she turned back to the door, where the key was hanging from the lock. "uh, no. i'm sorry. you're a friend, but i still don't know you so well. it's probably best we stay out here."

lie. her apartment was messy, and she was afraid if they were alone, within a closed confinement, she may do something she'd regret. in public it was fine, easy to remind herself that he was a million miles out of reach. but behind closed doors- there would be no way to keep her thoughts from racing, to keep her fingers still at her side.

elijah tilted his head down as if to say he understood. "no apology is necessary. so, what's this good news?"

"oh, yes!" y/n grinned and clasped her hands together excitedly, "so, unfortunately, i now have to work tomorrow-"

"what?" elijah scoffed. "but it is supposed to be your off-day."

"i know, i know," y/n waved him away, her incessant positivity bleeding through any complaints she could have, "i'm not happy about it. but, i'm gonna have monday off. so, i was thinking- maybe we could go to the bookstore. you could show me around the city a little, all the stuff i've been missing out on? o-only if you'd want to."

elijah nodded encouragingly, brushing off her hesitance, "that sounds absolutely lovely! i am very excited for monday, then. in the meantime, would you like me to stop by the club tomorrow? maybe seeing a warm face will make the unexpected night less terrible for you."

"that's okay," she replied. "fred probably knows you don't go there on sundays, so if he sees you, he might get suspicious about whether or not we see each other outside of the club..."

"remind me again why it matters what he thinks?" elijah bluntly let spill. hands sunk into his pockets.

y/n swallowed thickly, averting her eyes from elijah to her manicured nails. it was a distraction so she didn't have to let him see her shame. "elijah, you have to understand something. fred is...very powerful. and dangerous. he can do things..." she gulped and she finally looked to him, hoping it would be impactful enough for him to lay off, "just, trust me when i tell you. you don't want to screw around and find out what might happen. okay?'

elijah didn't press. his eyes lingered on her fearful expression for a moment, before he sighed and said, "okay. i won't come." he had to give this up right now so that she wouldn't feel uncomfortable. stick it in the back of his mind and pick it up later. later, when he'd earn more of her trust, and figure out a way around this bridge between what he knew they both really, truly wanted.

"so, what are you gonna show me monday?" y/n wrapped her arms around her stomach, still shivering.

elijah stared at the goosebumps on her arms. he wanted to give her his jacket, but he didn't. "the french quarter, maybe. i know you're stage name is french, so you must be intrigued by the culture."

"oh, yes!" she scrunched up her nose, "oh, i can't wait! i'm going to buy some macarons, some cheese. ooooo, wine! ugh!"

elijah was delighted by her excitement, "it pleases me very much how much joy just discussing this brings you."

y/n simply grinned back, "i'm just happy to finally have a friend, despite the circumstances."

oh, ouch. elijah couldn't deny that the word stung a bit. obviously, he knew they weren't explicitly seeing each other. but he knew it was more romantic than acquaintances. and he knew she felt it, too. her heart rate, her pheromones, her longing gazes and lost-smiles; all signs led to a sure-fire mystique. though he felt a little self-conscious by the words, he tried not to linger on it too much. but his heightened emotions made him sensitive.

"you know what i want to see?" y/n continued on.

elijah looked up from the dirty ground, met her eyes. "what's that?"

"your house," she flicked her brows up, a devious smirk on her face. "i wanna see just how wealthy you actually are."

elijah made a humourously surprised face, "really? out of everything in this city, my house? you're a strange girl."

"says you! the old weirdo with inexplicable amounts of random money." she giggled, waving her hands wildly, "besides, i always love seeing people's houses. especially in this city. the architectures really cool."

elijah nodded yes, "alright. we can do that. so long as you let me buy you dinner."

y/n rolled her eyes playfully, "are you gonna pretty woman me?"

he furrowed his brows, pursing his lips i. a confused frown. "pretty what?"

"pretty woman me..." she quirked a brow as if he should know, "oh...right. forgot you're like a thousand years old and modern references don't connect. think of it, like...cinderella. in the movie, a wealthy guy helps out a poor stripper and makes her an established members of society. are you gonna make me go from rags to riches?"

elijah shook his head, head tilted downwards. then, he peered up through his lashes, a boyish grin on his face, "my dear, i think you'd look just as beautiful to me in a ball gown as in a garbage bag."

y/n sucked both lips in between her teeth, biting back the biggest grin she'd ever felt prickling at her cheeks. a swell rose in her chest and her heart sped off. "well...i don't either of us could say anything better than that, so...goodnight, elijah."

prideful shoulders rolled back, he bid adieu. he watched her walk inside, and waited to hear the lock click on her door before leaving. y/n let out the breath she was holding.

nothing can come of nothing. but, god, this was becoming everything.

–

y/n managed to get out of the club by 3am. she raced home, showered quickly, and popped a melatonin. usually, she'd settle in for the night, let sleep overcome here. but she knew she wouldn't be able to do so. her veins rattled with excitement. at 10am, she woke up, a little groggy and very sore from the night before, as per usual. but she was too anticipation-ridden to worry about her messed up sleep schedule.

she quickly made her bed- a rarity- fed flo, and brewed a cup of coffee. as it finished it's slow drips into her favorite mug, y/n turned on some music. it was the first time in a very long time that she had woken up in such a good mood. she usually cursed the sunlight since she'd become a forced night- inhabitant.

when she was done getting ready, it was nearing 11:00. they agreed, during their sidewalk-lingering conversation the other night, that that time was perfect. the bookstore opened at that time, too. so they'd manage to get there before rush hour. and most other tourist locations opened up late, too. new orleans was a star-studded city meant for nocturnal animals.

elijah knocked on her door at exactly 11:00am. she had left the bottom door unlocked just for him. she wanted him to be able to look into her apartment, know he couldn't come in. he'd see her couch, her fridge- her things. and he wouldn't be able to touch. silly as it was, the thought of what he might be conceiving made her skin crawl.

y/n was anxiously waiting on the edge of her couch. flo perked up at the sound of the knocks and hopped down. the cat approached the door with a curious curl in her ears. y/n followed the swift cat, at a much slower pace, and lay a nervous hand on the door knob. she took a gut-deep breath, prior to opening the door.

elijah stood there, smiling brightly, in yet another suit of his. y/n noticed his tie was a different shade, though still deep and dark in color. it was a plum- an intentional purple. she bit her lip as a grin grew across her face.

"good morning," y/n spoke.

"good morning. it's lovely to see you in the daylight," he poked fun.

y/n rolled her eyes with a breathy laugh as she took her purse from the hook on the wall behind her. "oh, i know. sometimes i wonder if i'm becoming a vampire because of how little i see the sun."

elijah's face flickered, and y/n raised a brow at him. he forced a laugh, lightening her features. she blew air through her nose, as if to say, "ooookay, then. elijah pushed off the prickly feeling, the worry that she might find out, and stepped aside so y/n could join him on the landing.

still with that curious expression, y/n locked her apartment door. she turned back to him, an smile easily converting her gaze. "ready?"

he simply nodded. they trotted down the steps, and stepped out into the busy streets of new orleans. y/n sometimes forgot that new orleans was still crowded during the day. sometimes, it felt like everyone waited to come out until the night, when it was the busiest. and, oh, my gosh, was it warm! the sun felt cleansing on her face. she loved the moon, but solar power did wonders for the humab body, which was like a flower in the dirt.

elijah noticed her close her eyes, tilt her chin towards the sunlight, like a plant, and bask in it's embrace. he looked away when she opened her eyes, matching his pupils with her own. he was sheepish.

"i love the sun," y/n remarked, leading him towards the bookstore. when she caught him staring, she got giddy. it felt good to be known.

the entrance was but 50 feet from her apartment and he held the door open. "i couldn't tell," elijah sarcastically replied. she laughed over her shoulder at him.

the door jingled above them, and the cashier looked up from some papers she was shuffling. "y/n?" that lady behind the counter questioned, a surprised smile encasing her wrinkled features.

"hi, trudy!" y/n cheered, taking a few quick steps to go behind the counter and hug the older woman.

"oh, it's wonderful to see you finally! it's been months!" trudy's accent was thick, thicker than y/n's. she was shorter than either of the visitors, with silvery hair and piercing blue eyes.

so, they were close, he thought to himself. elijah easily fell into the back ground, something he was used to. he wanted to give them space. looking around at the display at the front of the store, an autobiography about some local figurine caught his eye. he flicked through it's smooth pages.

y/n and trudy continued their greetings, "i know! i'm sorry. i've been working a lot."

trudy tsked, "you know how i feel about that."

"oh, come on," y/n lowered her voice slightly, whispering to trudy. she didn't want elijah to hear. but he could, of course. "you know there's nothing i can do."

"i still don't like it, y/n," trudy scolded.

this gained more of his attention. at first, he was hesitant to eavesdrop- but, now, his senses perked up. trudy was angry, "that fred needs be locked up-"

"trudy, you know that's not gonna happen. best thing i can do is just deal with it until it's over-"

"what if it never ends? you know i still think he's lying to you..." trudy trailed off, accent deepened by her annoyance and accusations.

"i know, i know," y/n agreed, patting the woman's hand, "but i can't think like that. i have to try to be positive about my situation."

elijah held is breath. he was angrier now. these were details that y/n had never given him. he only thought the man was a misconceived threat, an overly confident gremlin with no actual power. but, this changed his opinion. he held over fear over more than just y/n. besides, he had already had bad feelings about fred- and his intuition was rarely wrong. that was a gift enhanced by his vampirism. he was a good guesser at how many candies were in a jar. he knew there was more to fred than y/n let on. maybe he should look further into the man...

he took slow, deep breaths as his hands started to shake. anger overcame his emotions, but he needed to be mindful. then, her voice broke through his focus, like a beam of sunlight on a rainy day, "that's my friend, elijah! lijah, come here and meet trudy!"

he set the book down, knuckles white from gripping its pages. as he stepped towards the women, trudy grinned brightly and rounded the counter to hug him. he held her tiny frame gently in his hands, exchanging a cheeky smile with y/n over trudy's shoulders.

"sorry," y/n mouthed, laughing.

elijah shook his head and pulled back from the lady. trudy pinched his cheeks in her fingers, admiring his... "handsome face! did you say friend, y/n? gosh, if you don't snatch him up i think i will!"

the poke at the nature of their relationship made elijah and y/n blush. they avoided each other's eyes. and trudy's. the older lady made a sigh, as if she knew something they didn't. "okay, okay. i'll lay off. what are you kids doing today?"

elijah looked to y/n, who was always more talkative than he. "we're going to do some shopping here- actual shopping, trudes. no discounts, no freebies, okay? and, then, we're going to do some exploring."

"how'd you manage the day off?" trudy inquired. she took a seat on her stool behind the counter. "was fred actually nice for once?"

y/n made a face, wide eyes with bitten lips, as if to say, 'stop it, trudy.' the older lady raised her hands defensively. y/n replied, still frowning, "he needed me to switch shifts with someone."

"i wish you worked someone else," trudy bluntly said.

y/n huffed, and began pacing the aisle behind the counter, sarcasm on her tongue, "and why's that?"

"i want to watch you sing, lovie," trudy busied herself with some paperwork on the counter.

elijah took his cue and followed y/n down the aisle. the girl hesitated on a random section, fingers rested gently on the spines of a shelf of novels. her look was downcast, like trudy's wish made her question her existence. elijah, minding his business though he had many opinions, found a world war 2 section and peered through of books lined before his fingertips.

"you can come to the club, trudes. i'll get you a little section, roped off in the corner. elijah could chaperone you, so you don't get tied up with all those younger fellas," y/n tossed her head back to wink at elijah, sinking any negative feelings she'd had.

he grinned back at her.

trudy groaned, "you know i go to bed at 8pm, y/n. that'll never happen. i wish you worked somewhere else where you could sing songs you actually want to sing, at a time of day where more respectable people can watch."

elijah hummed in agreement. he didn't notice, but y/n shot him an exasperated look. she sighed, "i'll let you know if it ever happens, trudy."

the older lady grumbled, but y/n ignored it. she got lost in the aisles of the bookstore. and they both continued wandering the aisles for an hour or so. they didn't speak to each other much, just once or twice when y/n would find something she thought elijah would like, or vice versa. it was peaceful. even when trudy would shoot them knowing, devious looks from the counter.

when they were done, they each plopped their piles of books on the counter. y/n had a stack of three, and elijah found 7 novels he liked.

"i cannot stand here and believe that you are willingly leaving this bookstore with three books. there is no way that you walked through these aisles for an hour and only picked three," elijah stuffed his hands in his pockets, peering down at her.

y/n, sheepishly, tugged at the spines of one of the books. she avoided his eyes. it was innocuous. "i-i did. i have so many books already, and money is-"

"y/n," elijah interrupted, with the shake of his head, "go get them." she stared up at him with these doe eyes, affection pouring from her gaze, radiating off her shoulders. he nodded his head once. she simply turned on her heel and went to collect the other books she'd put back. trudy started scanning the stacks on the counter while y/n ventured to the back of the store.

"i like you," trudy remarked.

elijah chuckled in response, "thank you."

"you're good for her, i think," she continued and bagged some of the books. "from what i saw today."

he didn't respond. he didn't know what to say. y/n, thankfully, came back, a stack of 7 other books in her hands. elijah took them from her since she struggled to put them on the counter. y/n thanked elijah breathily.

"i'll pay you back," y/n said once elijah pulled his credit card from his wallet.

"no, you won't," he disagreed.

she went to interrupt, but trudy cleared her throat. the two looked up at her. trudy had her arms crossed over her chest, pursed lips, raised brows. "when a man, when a handsome man, offers to buy you something, you never say you'll pay him back."

trudy went back to scanning and bagging books. elijah and y/n looked at each other, smiles and wide eyes soon turning into busted out laughter. trudy didn't mind them, bent at their waists, faces red from the breathless humor.

when they left the bookstore, elijah carrying their bags, y/n had this bright grin on her face. they were both filled to the brim with joy. she held open the door for him this time, since his hands were full. he thanked her with a smile. she watched the back of his head as he stepped into the street. the dark curls looping throughout his hair made her stomach flutter.

then, a voice pricked at elijah's ears, whispering his name out into the stale air.

he turned his head, trying to find a face amongst the crowds. that's when he noticed trudy at the counter, an innocently intended smile on her face. "come here, please."

elijah's lips parted slightly, shock glazing over his smile. he carefully looked to y/n, who was reaching for one of the bags in his hands. "i am just so excited, elijah. thank you so-"

"i left my wallet."

y/n looked up, brows furrowed, as she slipped her wrists through the bags. he let her take them from him. "oh?"

elijah relaxed his stiff shoulders, trying to look natural. "on the counter. i'll be right back."

y/n replied before he could walk back inside, "well, i'll run these up real quick, yeah?"

elijah hesitated feeling guilty for his white lies, before matching her eyes. "okay."

he rushed into the store. trudy was leaned forward, splaying her hands on the counter. she pursed her lips, tilted her head. elijah stopped a few feet before her, confusion written all over his face.

"how did you know i would hear you?" he cautiously spoke.

trudy replied with a shrug, "i know of your family. i once knew your brother, klaus."

elijah licked his bottom lip, as if answers would bleed onto his tongue, "how?"

"i've been in this city for 70 years, elijah mikaelson. i know things. i know things most people don't. i know about you."

anxiety coursed through his veins. usually, when people knew his family, it meant his life was threatened. surely this little old lady wouldn't harm him...

"help her," trudy blankly continued, confusing the fear he felt. "protect y/n."

elijah stuffed his hands in his pockets, almost humorously relieved, "from what?"

"from who," she corrected him. "from fred. i know she's tried to convince you, like she's tried to convince me, that he's too powerful, that we can't do anything about it. that she's somehow safe. just...protect her, please. i know you can."

elijah nodded once, stern, "with my life." he meant it.

trudy finally smiled again. "okay. thank you. go enjoy yourself."

that was it? asking him to protect y/n was like asking a seed to root.

he hesitated before smiling. he turned towards the door and took a few steps. then, trudy's voice cut through the stale air. "oh, and elijah?"

he looked over his shoulder, "yes?"

"tell her," trudy flicked her brows at him.

"i'm going to, i'm just worried she'll look at me differently."

"no," trudy rolled her eyes, "tell her how you feel. i think she feels the same."

–

by the end of the day, they'd travelled across half of the city.

elijah showed her the st. louis cemetery, told her of its history, and some of the people buried there. he pretended, while they walked through and y/n admired the coping grave buildings, that he didn't recognize any of the names beyond the stone.

they went to the french market, an immediate and obvious favorite for y/n, who spent loads of money on cheeses, wine, and a loaf of bread. not to mention about a billion macarons. she'd made him try one, considering, though he'd been alive for a thousand years, he'd never tasted the pastry. he quickly fell in love with the taste, while she fell in love with him. the way he walked, the way he talked her through the history. he used his hands a lot, kept his head stiff, his expressions minimal. mostly he just let his words speak for themselves. his charisma held her on the tips of her toes.

they even walked past his house, as promised. she wanted to go inside, but elijah could hear his siblings fighting about something within the compound. he made an excuse that they were running out of time to see the buckner mansion- they weren't- and drug her away.

they ended the evening with dinner from a food truck. he had planned to take her to a fancier dinner, at a sit-down restaurant, with candlelight. but, when y/n learned where he was taking her, she insisted they not go because she was underdressed. the real reason was that fred frequented the french restaurant. they were already risking so much of their skin just walking out in the daylight. if they ran into the man...hell fire would rain down in them.

they grabbed ice cream on the way back to y/n's apartment, taking slow, full steps. neither wanted the night to end.

y/n licked her tongue along the edge of her cone as the frozen treat began to melt. "thank you so much for today," she gratuitously nudged him with her elbow.

elijah spooned some of his ice cream between his lips. when he swallowed, her replied, "no thanks needed."

"no, seriously," she rejected, "i am so grateful. i haven't a day so full of...life and fun and joy since i was a little girl. this was just...i'm happy."

he felt really good. moving the conversation along, he asked, humorously, "what did you do as a little girl that my wonderfully planned day has to compete with?"

she chuckled, and thought for a moment. "my mom used to take me out to local performances. concerts, plays, musicals, talent showcases, whatever it was, we were there. she didn't have much money, but she knew it made me happy. she was...thoughtful. reminds me of you."

the underhanded compliment caused elijah's heart rate to spike. though, he wondered, from her use of language and sad smile, "what happened to here?"

their voices hushed lightly, in the way that people's tones always did when they discussed something that was sad. "she died when i was 18. liver infection."

"oh," he didn't know what to say. "i'm so sorry."

"that's okay," y/n shrugged, "i mourned her. it's over. i live with it."

"mourning is not something you just live with. it's something you live through. you will always carry the grief in a small corner of your heart. and that's okay. you don't just have to let it go, and move on. it's not black and white like that. it's...true blue."

y/n stopped in her tracks, nearly dropping her ice cream from the way her body slowed. "who did you lose?"

elijah smiled briefly, a frown growing from his breathy chortle. "how can you tell?"

"just the way you talked about it," she bit her lip. "you know what it feels like. who was it?"

elijah had lost so many people. over and over again. like the only true twist of fate for his life was that he was to know and lose, a practiced game, a true blue clockwork. "my father. mother.

my sister, a girlfriend, friends, my brothers more time than i could count...he thought to himself.

y/n took his hand. she slid her soft fingers through his, squeezed his palm against hers. "i'm sorry."

they held eyes for a moment. just staring at each other. then, elijah stepped forward, head tilting down towards hers. y/n hesitated, nearly taking a step away from him. but, then he came closer, and she could see the depths of his eyes, the edge of his soul. she stepped off the cliff.

y/n let her body arch forward towards him, let her arms go slack at her sides. she dropped her ice cream cone on the ground and she didn't care.

elijah wrapped an arm around her back, fingers spread across her spine. his touch was warm, shooting sparks off in y/n's stomach. she knew this was wrong, dangerous. no good could come of it and she needed to refocus her thoughts, step away, but...

he was kissing her.

when two people, different in mind and body, who share fragments of a soul scattered across the universe happen to find each other amongst thousands of years, in one small moment, on one sidewalk, during one arbitrary night and seek solace in the other's arms...something in the earth's core shifts, something in the stars.

something in their fates.

–

"juliette!"

y/n flinched, striking a thick black line of mascara across her cheek. she groaned and quickly reached for a q-tip to clean it off. the door to her dressing room was thrown open, and fred appeared in her vanity mirror. of course. she could recognize his villainous voice from anywhere. his reflection was angry, hands popped on hips, mustache pushed into a deep, dark frown.

"yes?" y/n rose a perfectly arched brow at his reflection. remain calm. pretend to be somebody else- his muse. his idol. his juliet.

fred crossed his arms, "you're a stupid fucking bitch!" his chest heaved up and down, anger bleeding off his red hot skin.

he had done some questionable things. but he had never called her that. y/n lowered her mascara wand, the shaking in her body lighting afire in her core, and eating away the rest of her stability.

"wh-what?" maybe she had heard him wrong. his voice was deep, gruff, and he slurred sometimes-

fred planted a hand on the vanity beside her, and closed a fist around the back of her chair. she was trapped between his arms, her back to the wall of her dressing room. she had nowhere to go. he lowered his body, hovering his face directly in front of hers. her lips were parted, wobbling in fear. she had never seen his eyes to stormy. his breath fanned across her cheeks, cigars and bourbon.

"you heard me."

y/n felt a tear slide down her cheek, like she had been pinched in the gut. "i-i'm sor-sorry."

"remember a few years ago, when you were stuck in that hostel, infested with rats and lice? remember when you used to collect trash off the streets, and drag your feet to the recycling center, 8 miles away, everyday, just for a few quarters? remember when you used to go weeks without a shower? when you wore the same underwear everyday and wore one shoe for a week straight because the other was ripped through? remember that?" he held her eyes in his own, his voice a trepidation between them.

if he was going to hit her, she just wished he would do it already.

"i said, remember that?!" he spat into her face because she took too long to reply.

y/n flinched harshly, eyes squeezed shut. "y-yes. yes. i do. i remember."

"and do you remember what i did for you? i practically dug you out of the trash. no one wanted you- no clubs would hire you, and your own father hung up when you called him on my cellphone. i took you in. i gave you a roof over your head. i cleaned the dirt from your fingernails. and i made you into a fucking star! now, everyone in this goddamned city wants a piece of juliette dupont...AND THIS IS HOW YOU REPAY ME? BY WHORING AROUND BEHIND MY BACK?"

his spittle littered her face as his words cut deep beneath her skin. y/n was visibly trembling and fred got high off of that fear. he pushed in closer, moving his hand from the back of her chair to her shoulder. he squeezed, tightly, and she whimpered.

"i don't know what you're talking about..." she stammered out. it was probably not a good idea to lie, but stupid women were fred's ideal image of femininity. so she played into it.

fred brandished an envelope. he pushed it against her chest, and y/n's back hit the wall. "look..."

y/n managed to open the envelope's teeth, and tugged out a thick stack of photos from its confines. photographs of her and elijah...months and months worth of pictures. outside the club the first time he introduced himself, again when he asked her to dinner. a billion shots of them at the diner, laughing and chatting over pancakes. at the bookstore, outside her apartment, by the food truck.

kissing outside of her apartment.

"do you know what i'm talking about now?" fred pressed, seemingly satisfied with his cinema-reveal.

y/n's eyes were blurry as the tears streamed down her face. she ground her teeth together, willing words, miraculous, healing words to come to her memory. her mind was blank, yet simultaneously racing.

she drug her eyes up from the photos, to fred. "i-i'm so-"

"you disobeyed me. i saved your fucking life and asked one thing of you. one tiny, fucking request- to be mine. to give me your devotion, your loyalty. and you're so weak, so...fucking weak," his voice dropped in volume, as if he was simply disappointed by this. it was somehow scarier.

y/n went to speak again, and fred held up a hand. he closed his eyes, tight-lipped. he peeled his hands away from her and turned towards the door. y/n, in a haze, stood after him. she gripped his bicep, pleading through her sobs for forgiveness.

fred turned back around, adrenaline strengthening his fist as it landed on her cheek. he let out a guttural groan as he hit her, as if it took all of his energy. y/n landed in a heap on the floor, nearly knocking her head against the vanity counter. she was somehow grateful it hadn't been worse.

until,

"get up!" fred boomed, shaking out his pained fist. "get up, you stupid bitch!"

y/n lifted her head slowly, shoulders racked with her cries. fred didn't like how long it took her. so, he reached down, fisted her hair in his clutches, and drug her to her knees.

y/n screamed in pain. her scalp burned. her lip was bleeding, a tooth was probably broken inside her mouth. and her left eye was blurry from the ever-swelling bruise he left.

fred got in her face again, still fisting her hair. y/n grabbed at his wrist, trying to get his hold off of her. fred shook her side to side, "why do you make me hurt you?!"

y/n simply whimpered in response.

"beg! beg for my forgiveness, you stupid whore! beg for my mercy!" he demanded.

y/n couldn't get the words out, "i-i-i-i"

fred, annoyed by her stutters, threw her head to the ground. she fell into another ball, curling into herself. he reared back a leg and kicked her in the thigh. she screamed at the impact. he went to kick her again, when a knock came from the door.

fred grumbled about, "come in."

as if it were just another average day, one of the guards opened the door, peeping a head in to say, "we're starting."

fred planted his hands on his hips. he glanced to y/n, as did the guard. fred looked back to his man, "tell delaney she's starting. and call fiona. she's coming tonight."

the guard shut the door without any further words. y/n felt even more terrified knowing any help she could've gotten had completely abandoned her. fred leaned down to her. he gripped the back of her neck, pulling her head back to face him. he wrapped his other hand around her throat, squeezing both together palms towards each other.

y/n gurgled, her screams unable to come out. fred leaned into her ear, menacingly, "get the fuck out of my club. i don't want to see your ugly fucking face anymore. i don't want you here. jesus- your life was fucking perfect because of me, and you've thrown it all away now. you're dead without me."

fred slammed the door shut. y/n spluttered, trying to catch her disrupted breaths. she carefully touched her throat. her voice was surely hoarse by now. he had even taken that from her. he had taken everything from her. gave her nothing. made nothing perfect. he was the reason for every negative fucking thing that had happened to her since she moved to this damned city.

so, somehow, with dignity and grace, y/n lifted herself off the floor. she wrapped a coat around her robe, slid her sneakers on over her bare feet, and slung her purse over her aching shoulder. and she limped out of the club, deadpanned face staring straight ahead. she ignored every whisper, every look, every glare from fred.

she walked herself home.

elijah had been running late that night. he had problems to fix with his siblings back at home that required his unpaid attention. he glanced at his watch relentlessly, hoping for a break in the issue so he could escape and see her.

eventually, klaus stoppered accusing, rebekah stopped whining, finn stopped smoldering, and kol ceased his incessant comments. as soon as they all escaped to their bedrooms, elijah sped out of the house, vamping his way across town, to the club.

he stepped into the club, hopeful, only to see delaney on the stage. her peachy stagelights lit up her name, in place of where hers should have been. elijah furrowed his brows and glanced at his watch. y/n was supposed to be up there. it was saturday evening. and she was the main event. this was her stage.

elijah glanced around. he spotted fred by the cash register, whipping through stacks of bills. and the bartender, wiping down some spots by elijah's usual seat. he sped over, apathetic to any wandering eyes. the bartender jumped at elijah's quick appearance, and he humorously wiped a bead of sweat from his forehead.

"where is juliette this evening?" elijah pointed to the stage.

the bartender followed his finger, "oh. uh, i'm not sure. must be sick or something."

that wasn't good enough. elijah slammed a hand on the counter. the bartender met his eyes, raised a defensive posture with his palms. "woah, buddy. let's be cool, okay?"

elijah maintained eye contact and compelled a question out of him, "where is she?"

the bartender shrugged, "i don't know."

fred had heard elijah's outburst. he lifted his reluctant gaze from the money he counted, fingers slowly stopping, brows furrowing in response. he watched elijah stun the bartender, watched as he demanded a question from him.

he watched him compel the bartender. fred knew what that was.

and it all made sense.

the quick healing, the speedy departures. the menacingly dark facade. this stranger was a vampire. his name, which he had learned from his spy, was elijah. elijah mikaelson. of the family fred's ancestors had warned him of. he had probably been manipulating y/n, taking advantage of her. using her for their devilish affairs. how could he do that? it was evil. but he expected no less from a vampire.

fred stomped down the walkway, chest puffed out. he was mighty brave for being weaponless against an original.

the bartender moved away, sensing that fred would handle this. the owner stopped in front of elijah, who had to tilt his head down to match his eyes.

elijah and fred star at each other for a few moments. the originals eyes were squinted, threatening. fred just looked stupid.

"i know what you are..." the owner practically whispered.

elijah let himself smirk a little. oh, this was always fun. when they got cocky, like they could easily take him down by just saying what he was. "and what's that?" he challenged, anticipating the embarrassment when fred would fail.

"a vampire," fred seared.

"hm...interesting. and what are you going to do with this information?" elijah tilted his head to the side, like a curious child.

fred planted his hands on the counter, "i'm going to kill you."

elijah glanced down to his knuckles. he didn't pay any mind and looked back up to the little man below him. then, it registered in his mind, the black and blue bruises and red lines of blood lightening across fred's fist.

elijah's jaw clenched. he sucked in a deep breath. he needed to control his anger. fred would die- but it would have to wait.

because, somewhere out there, y/n was hurt. badly. and that's all that mattered right now.

elijah leaned across the counter, seething red hot anger, "you have made a grave mistake...one that will cost you your life. so, no, you will not kill me. i am going to kill you. it will be slow, and painful, and you will wish that you had never even spoke her name. so, enjoy your final hours on this earth, enjoy the fact that you are able to breathe right now, that you are able to look at me. sit down, have a drink, count your precious money. and wait for me to come knocking down your door."

elijah left a gust of wind in his absence. fred was silent, staring after his ghost. the bartender came back over, lay a comforting hand on his boss' shoulder. "you alright, dude? you're shaking."

fred couldn't speak.

he had pissed himself.

———————————————————————————

tagging some people hehe: @fitzs-trained-monkey @space-princess-charming @theoriginalariamonroe

#elijah mikaelson #kol mikaelson #kol mikaelson x reader #kol mikaelson x you #the originals #rebekah mikaelson #the originals x reader #the originals x y/n #the originals x vampire reader #the originals x you #the originals rp #the vampire diaires #the vampire diaries x you #the vampire diaries imagines #tvd #tvd x reader #tvd fanfiction #tvd fandom #tvd imagine

[riddle-me-ri]

hi if its fine with you id like to request riddler with an artsy s/o and like theyre suffering artblock so they do a painting of him (he finds it sweet)

can be any riddler of ur choice and i also prefer gender neutral but if u end up writing fem i dont mind!

have a good night/day

-anon

A/N: aahhh that’s meee…this request resonates with me so well as an artist that suffers from art block or a chronic victim of endless reference scrolling to where I get lost saving references for everything but what I was looking for rip…only for me to settle and just draw Eddie from different media lol. And I'm so sorry ahead of time this got ridiculously long, I got really carried away and was having so much fun with the idea rip. So sorry for the length!

Riddlers React to Reader’s Art of Him:

Arkhamverse Riddler:

Edward always appreciated your capability to occupy yourself. While he was busy plotting, building, and scheming…you were sketching, collaging, and painting.

Of course, until one unfortunate day. Nothing was coming to you. You’ve just about drawn and sketched every riddlebot, every henchmen, and you even started scribbling question marks all over the pages…wait…what? Ugh. 

You needed to find a new muse. Anything…anyone…well there was one person you haven’t painted yet. 

However, you knew you wouldn’t be caught dead with your supplies in his workspace. The minute the paint spilled on the floor or god forbid you put your eraser down and it disappeared among the chaos. 

You grabbed your phone and began scrolling through your phone. You’ve taken enough candid photos of him, surely one of them would spark your interests. Your artistic eye landed on one such photo. Edward was smiling in this one, it was when he first got one of his riddlebots to work. Quickly you took to sketching the thumbnail for the portrait. 

There was knocking on the door. 

“What is it, Y/N! I’ll have you know I am very busy!” Edward was already raving and ranting before he even opened the door. 

“I-I know, Ed! This’ll only take a minute, please?” You begged, grinning your teeth into a smile as if you were trying to coax him and he was in front of you. 

Edward opened the door and looked at you. “Well? What was so pressing, you had to–”

You pulled the canvas out from behind your back. Edward was stunned when familiar green eyes met his own. 

“Y-Y/N…w-when?” He reaches out to grab it, but you quickly snatch it back. 

“Uh-uh, not with those filthy gloves. Take them off!” You ordered. 

Edward groaned annoyingly, but took them off whilst rolling his eyes. His eyes came back to the painting however as you let him hold it. 

Ed allowed the smallest grin lopsided along his face. He looked surprised, almost mesmerized…he was happy. 

Of course, that window of vulnerability smacked close the instant it let just the tiniest bits of light in. 

“Well, I wouldn’t expect anything less considering you had the most ideal subject to work off from.” 

Now it was your turn to roll your eyes, well the moment was sweet while it was there. 

Reevesverse/Dano Riddler:

Edward was practically the perfect subject for a life drawing. He had his usual comfort positions whenever he was enthralled in any of his usual activities. Which made him sit stable in one position. Whether that was playing games online, reading the paper and doing the crosswords, or endlessly scribbling away at his ledgers. 

You both mutually respected each other’s creative spaces. Not allowing one or the other to look unless invited. You rarely saw what was in his ledgers (you doubt you’d ever get the chance to) and you equally rarely show him your sketchbooks. 

It couldn’t be helped though. He was just too adorable. His small little smirks, his round cheeks, and pretty eyes. He was the best subject…not to mention he was always so still. 

You caught yourself staring glances of him at that moment. He was writing and typing away about something. Probably jotting down some riddles or puzzles of his own. Meanwhile you were steady sketching and erasing away. 

Both of you lost in your own little worlds. 

You didn’t even realize how much time has gone by or how Edward was all of a sudden in front of you. 

You jumped back in shock, curling your arms around your sketchbook to shield its contents. 

“Oh…sorry…I-I didn’t mean to make you jump.”

You sighed. “It’s okay, just lost in the zone for a minute.”

There was a moment of silence as Edward decided to take a seat next to you. You were pondering your next move, but maybe it would be a good step towards moving your relationship forward. 

“W-Wanna see what I’ve been working on?” You offered.

Ed’s head immediately picked up. “O-Oh…uh…y-you don’t have too if you’re not comfortable.”

“I wouldn’t offer if I wasn’t.” You handed your sketchbook to him. 

He glanced his eyes back and forth between you and the sketchpad. He slowly gripped it with a soft excited smile on his face. You shrugged in on yourself, hoping you made the right call. 

“W-Wait…” He gasped. “T-That’s me? You drew me? Just now?” 

“Ehh…more like the past hour and a half.” You chuckled nervously. 

“I-It’s great…I-I’m f-flattered even. Is this how you see me?” Edward was beside himself. He usually can’t stay looking at himself in the mirror. Seeing his inner self-loathing grow and spread from the inside out, but…but he liked this Edward, the one drawn by you. 

You nodded. “Yeah. It is.” You put your hand on his shoulder and wrapped the other around his waist. You gave him a small side hug and a kiss on his cheek. 

Gotham Riddler: 

You were probably the only one in the whole precinct that actually enjoyed his ramblings and absurd amount of info-dumping. He was too animated to ignore and he made for the perfect drawing subject when you found yourself stuck on what to draw. Thankfully, he’s usually too lost in his thoughts and verbal vomit to pay you any mind to you doodling away. 

Until today anyway. 

“What’re you doing?” 

“Huh?”

“I’ve noticed that while you are actively listening to me talking, and I do appreciate you actually paying attention…I’m curious to what you’re also doing while I’m talking…” He stammered. 

Well, you weren’t prepared for that discussion. 

“Oh, uh…well…I-I’m actually drawing you..” You answered. 

The room was silent. Edward was prepared for every answer…but yet not that one. 

“I-uh-oh...um…wasn’t expecting that.” 

“Did you think I was taking notes?” You giggled.

“Err…actually I thought you were just keeping yourself busy cause…I thought I was boring you.” Edward admitted. 

“What? I don’t find you boring at all. Look!” You quickly handed him your sketchpad before any other negating thoughts came to his head. “I love listening to you, and watching you speak. You’re so animated and brilliant and I want to capture it...or try to anyways.”

Ed’s eyes lit up at you mentioning him, in a positive light. No one’s ever referred to his ramblings as…animated and brilliant before. “C-Can you show me? T-The drawings of me?”

“Oh, uh…” You seized up, the amount you’ve actually drawn finally dawning on you as probably reading on borderline creepy. However, he wasn’t going to believe you unless you showed him the proof. 

You quickly handed him the medium sketchpad before you had time to refuse. 

Ed’s eyebrows raised as his eyes widened. He immediately recognized himself, he could almost recall the conversations. He found himself softly chuckling at the small footnotes to what he was saying beside the sketches. 

“D-Do you like them?” It seemed silly to ask, but you needed vocal affirmation to the silly grin on his face. 

He looked up at you, completely bewildered but extremely giddy. His smile was stretched across his face, no doubt the biggest smile you’ve seen from him. 

“I-I-I love them…they’re great! Y-You’re incredibly talented Y/N…”

“Nah, I’ve just got a great subject.” You nudged your shoulder with his. He returned the sketchbook to you. 

There was another moment of comfortable silence until Ed stole glances between you and the sketchpad. 

“What is it, Ed?” 

“Well, I don’t want to start sharing until you’re ready!” He grinned. 

You smiled back but quickly plop down on your seat and grab your graphite pencil. “Okay, I’m ready.” 

BTAS Riddler: 

You were way too focused. After months, almost years of drawing Eddie, you were confident enough to pull off this decent sized portrait of him. He’s been your whole world for so long, he occupied a lot mroe of your thoughts than you cared to admit. Although, there was nothing wrong with showing that appreciation. 

You were too excited to wait for his birthday or Christmas or Valentine’s Day. You just wanted to give him something, plus drawing and painting him help broke you from your art block the past few weeks. Seeing his adorable face slowly come to life on the canvas, you even amazed yourself at a moment or two. 

It was the hardest secret to keep until you finally were ready to reveal it to him. You two just had a fun date night. Everything was perfect, and the mood was just right. Love, passion, and tenderness flowing between the two of you. 

You’re reminded yet again, just how much you love and adore this man. He leaned down to kiss you when all of a sudden you remember your portrait drying in your studio. You gasp which shocks Ed but you tap his nose and tell him to wait in the living room. 

He quirks a curious eyebrow at you but stays put. 

He’s shocked when he sees you carrying something almost as tall and wide as you behind your back. You pull it out from behind your back, a thin protective sheet of paper still covering the art. 

“I-I made this for you, Eddie.” You said softly, handing him the canvas.

“D-Darling..you…you didn-” When he pulls the protective back, he’s in complete awe. He finds himself breathlessly chuckling. “I-It’s me?”

“Of course it’s you, there’s no one else more handsome!” You went up and kissed his cheek. “Do you like it, Eddie?” 

“I-I-I’m in awe, I love it…You’re so talented, my dear…thank you.” He kissed your temple in return. You grabbed his chin and leaned him down to properly kiss you like he tried to do before. 

Zero Year/Capullo Riddler: 

Now, this asshole…he’s surprised you weren’t already drawing him. Like what better muse do you need, Y/N? He’s right there! He knows how much you love his face, the way he grins, his expressive eyes, and even more intricate and expressive hand gestures. You don’t say it but he can see it in your eyes, you don’t hide your obvious attraction to him well. 

However, you still sketch away even while rolling your eyes. As much as you hated to admit it (and as much I, too, hate to admit it) the smug bastard was fun as hell to draw. His face was so pudgy and he was able to do certain expressions you haven’t seen before. 

“Why don’t you ever ask me to pose for you?” He teased you. 

“Because quite frankly thinking of painting you like…uh…French girl, doesn’t sound amusing to me.” 

Edward blinked at you in disbelief. You found yourself succumbing to your chuckles at his displeased expression. 

“Now, you and I BOTH very well know, that’s a lie!” He crossed his arms defensively. 

“Is it?” You challenged. 

Edward nodded. “You may not think it, but I’ve seen you draw me before, and even I have to admit, you capture my essence pretty well.”

“Does that essence portray a conceited dickhead?” You asked. 

He narrowed his eyes at you. 

“I’ll take that as a no…damnit guess I’ll have to fix those..”

“C’mon, Y/N! Just this once!” 

“Are you paying me?” 

“What? NO!” He laid down in front of you on his side on top of the thankfully empty coffee table. “I should be offering payment for my services, but this will be a freebie.”

You found yourself reeling your eyeballs back into your sockets. After more minutes of bickering you conceded and painted the egomaniac. You tried to stay focused no matter how often he kept teasing you with winks and kissy faces. 

When you flipped the canvas around to show him the final product. You made sure to steady look at his face. He may be a conniving manipulator, but if he was pleased or surprised he couldn’t hide it. You found yourself grinning, as his mouth opened to a soft “oh” shape and his eyes were widened. 

“Well, what do you think?” 

Somehow hearing your voice snapped him out of whatever thoughts he was having. Gone went the wide eyes and speechlessness. 

“Well, I mean..it is amazing, but then again your subject matter is pretty incredible…”

You snatched your supplies and started storming off.

“Hey! Come back! It looks good! You even got my eyes right this time!” 

“Oh fuck off! I never screw up your eyes!”

“So you do stare at me?”

“Ugh!” 

Twojar Riddler:

Just call him the David to your Michelangelo. You would never outright admit it but it was pretty clear to the two of you that you had a mutual appreciation for the other as muse and artist. Whenever you had a slow art day or when you weren’t getting any ideas, Edward was usually always free to stand in as your art subject. 

Almost too willing some times, even suggested it on days you were doing well enough on your own. Although it never hurt to practice more life and anatomy practice. Edward would very much prefer it was HIS anatomy as opposed to anyone else’s. 

One day, you realized that you never actually truly painted him. It was usually just quick thirty minute or sometimes an hour long sketching sessions. He was always pleased with whatever you drew, sometimes teasing you where you tend to mostly put your focus on when drawing him. Whether it was his face, his hands, or chest. 

Regardless you wanted to wow him at least once with your skill. Lately you’ve been pulling out the paints again. Ed noticed but never mentioned them. You were thankful for, you wanted to be able to get better at the medium before putting your favorite subject to the test. When you felt like you painted everything under the moon and began running out of ideas to practice on…you felt like it was time. 

“You want to paint me this time?” Ed asked, wearing a white dress shirt with barely one bottom button barely buttoned. He also wore some dark green slacks. 

“Yeah, thought I’d change it up a bit. I’ve been practicing with the paints for a minute.” You explained as you set up your easel and paints. 

“I’ve noticed, you’ve picked up on it rather quickly, not that I’m surprised.” He grinned. 

“Well, hopefully, I can impress you instead.” You chuckled as you finally took a seat. 

“You always impress me, dear. I always admire you and your craft.” 

You smiled softly at that. You shook your head to get rid of the blushes coming to warm your cheek as you began to focus. 

It took an extra hour and a half than you liked. Edward occasionally talking to make conversation. You two never sat well in silence and oddly enough, these were the few intimate moments you got to catch up with one another. 

“Well, darling?” 

“I-I…well…”

“I won’t move until you’re certain.” 

Your heart swelled at his commitment. “You can see it, Eddie…” 

It was eternity for him to go from his sitting spot to your side. You didn’t miss the small intake of air and the wide smile on his face. 

“Well?” 

“I-It’s outstanding…y-you’ve outdone yourself my dear.” He complimented. 

You couldn’t resist the squeals of excitement that came out as you wrapped your arms around his neck in an embrace. “Thank you, Eddie! That means a lot!”

Gotham City Sirens Riddler: 

It wasn’t unheard of that there were slow days at the office. Much like this one dull and dragging Wednesday evening. After all your spring cleaning and organizing your office space was done, you figured it wouldn’t hurt to pull out your sketchbook. 

Usually Ed had the door to his office closed, but since he likely was not expecting any new cases today he decided to leave it open. 

After scribbling some random faces and various shapes to get the drawing muscles warmed up, you took a glance into Edward’s office. 

You haven’t drawn him yet. Sometimes you’ve caught Harley or Selina waiting and got to draw their faces. Every now and again you got to draw the clients that came in. Better still, there were a couple cases Edward required your artistic skill to draw a possible person of interest or whatever descriptors a client may have to help him go off of. 

You liked those cases best, they made you feel good like you were actually helping Ed and not just his book keep. 

You started sketching out your basic shape and guidelines. Stealing the glances of Edward like a kid stealing cookies from a jar. Just to make sure Ed didn’t have the slightest clue to your creative activity. 

“Well, Y/N. I guess it’s time to call it a day, I suppose it was a good day to–Y/N?” 

“Yes, sir?” You looked up and almost jumped from your seat when he was in front of you and not in his office. 

“What were you doing with your spare time?” Ed smirked. He looped around the edge of your desk to where he was beside you. 

You didn’t have a chance to explain it before he saw the drawing of himself. 

“I-I’m sorry, Eddie…I-I don’t mean to freak you out, I was just…didn’t know what to draw and I’ve never drawn you before…”

Ed scoffed. “Could’ve fooled me, this looks amazing, Y/N. And dare I say, extremely flattering too.” He winked at you. 

You gulped the slowly suffocating and growing lump in your throat. “I-I uh..t-thanks, Eddie.” 

“Thank you…come on, let’s get out of here. Perhaps we can discuss future art projects for you in the future with yours truly.” 

Young Justice Riddler: 

If you could say you had a number one fan of your art, it was Edward. You could doodle a tiny smiley face any child could draw and he’d absolutely adore it. He adored your sketches of the teammates, or your landscape studies of different places you guys travel too for the Light. 

One day on such a trip, you found yourself at a complete loss. You didn’t feel inspired to draw anything, and you wanted to draw. It always helped pass the time on these trips. 

You looked over and saw Eddie busy typing away on his PC. No doubt doing research for this upcoming mission. A lightbulb went off in your head. You quickly started sketching him, your heart every now and then skipping a beat whenever he smiled at his screen. You were thrilled he hasn’t spotted you yet, it gave you all the motivation to get it done as quickly but accurately as possible. 

“Y/N? I didn’t know you were in here!” 

You looked up and your eyes met warm brown ones. You quickly glance back down at your pad and back at him just to see if they are any more details you needed to add. 

“Oh hey, Eddie! Yeah...I-I’ve been in here for a minute.” You chuckled. 

“Why didn’t you say anything?” He took a seat next to you. 

“Well, because I wanted the chance to draw you!” 

“D-Draw me?” He even pointed to himself with his thumb to get double affirmation. 

“Yeah! Look!” 

Edward took the sketchbook in his hands and his breath was immediately taken away. He saw himself in black and white on the paper, yet…it was how you saw him. You somehow drew the confidence he struggled to find in himself…onto him. 

“Is, is this how you picture me?” He asked softly.

“Yes, babe…that’s you.” You smiled. “I’m kind of impressed with myself. I captured your sweet smile I love. I got your eyes just how I like…it’s all you, and everything I adore about you.” 

Edward found himself chuckling. "I-I…I love it, you make me look…how I want to look like.." 

You put your head on his shoulder. "You already look that way to me." 

You kissed his cheek, giggling as his face started to blush.

Telltale Riddler: 

God, it was so damn difficult and intimidating to impress him in any and every possible way. 

However, you knew Edward had an appreciation for the arts. Thankfully you were artistic, and he seemed to enjoy the little still lives you drew. Giving you the smallest nod or the lowest of satisfied hums. 

Well, what was driving you anxious now was how he’d react to this portrait of him you did. You had a major art block and wanted to paint human figures for once. It made sense to paint Edward considering how long you’ve been with him…however predicting his reaction was nerve-wracking. 

Would he like it? Would he just give you pity comments but totally roll his eyes at it? He’d probably comment about how you had better things to do with your spare time. 

However, you knew he would have questions to what has kept you so busy the past couple of weeks. While he was tinkering away in his hideout. You occasionally reached out periodically but mostly stayed in your apartment. You invited him over for dinner so you can unveil your painting to him. 

“So, what was it you wanted to show me?” As soon as dinner was over, Edward didn’t beat around anymore bushes. 

“Well, you were asking what was keeping me so busy. I was working on a little project, to surprise you with…” You tried to swallow down the lump of nervousness in your throat and slow down the anxious pacing of your heart. 

“F-follow me.” He followed you down the hallway and to your little studio in the room right across from your bedroom. 

The painting was covered with a protective thin sheet over it. You went to the side of it and with a quick breath your snatched it off. 

It was a mid-waist portrait. He was in his Riddler get-up, the hood was down, but his eye mask was still on. He held his staff in his hand and leaned it against his shoulder. 

Edward was speechless. He was hardly ever speechless…so you weren’t sure if that was exactly a good or bad reaction. Eventually the quiet was eating away at you. 

“Edward?” You asked, slowly dropping the sheet from your hands. 

“I-I-I…” He finds himself flabbergasted. No one’s ever done anything like this for him. The only pictures of him are either from mugshots or wanted posters. Pictures of him were usually videos or images of him in mid-heist. 

“This…this is very impressive, Y/N. Is this what kept you busy these past few days?” He was steady staring at his portrait. 

“Y-Yes…I wanted to surprise you with something, and I’ve always wanted to try my hand at figures.” 

He looked over at you and grinned. “You certainly did that, you surprised me and impressed me. If you ever wish to…draw from real life…feel free to bring your supplies to the hideout. Just as long as you clean up and keep up with them.” He winked. 

Hush (DCAU) Riddler: 

Hmm…just one more little line here…erase that guideline that was still there.

"Hey, Y/N! What're you drawing this time?" 

You had your supplies all lined out on the living room table. You had your artboard in your lap with your sheet of paper. You were drawing while waiting for Edward to come home. 

"Oh…just this really handsome person I know. I see him every day and yet I never thought to draw him. It was the perfect way to break out of my art block!" 

He was hanging up his suit jacket, hat, and mask while he took in everything you said. Yet it just now registered to him as he started walking towards your makeshift work station. 

"W-wait what? You drew me?

"Well I'm glad to know you know it's you." You chuckled. 

Edward leaned over the back of the couch and looked over your shoulder. 

“Whoa…you weren’t kidding.” He mumbled.

“Why would I kid you? Do you like it?” You leaned your head next to his. You could feel his smile stretch to scrunch his cheeks. 

“I-I love it…I look amazing! W-Well I mean..you drew me amazing..I’m still just me..” He chuckled. 

You giggled back, turning his head to the side, you leaned in and met his lips with yours. “I love you, and I drew you as I see you. You’re always amazing to me, Eddie.” 

He smiled back at you, with the most loving eyes imaginable. 

“I can keep drawing you, if you wish. If that’ll make you believe!” You nudged his shoulder with yours. 

He laughed. “I don’t know about that but I do know I like the idea of being your “go-to” muse.”

#ri writes #this post almost broke me #I thought I lost it when I was literally two riddlers away from finishing #the riddler x reader #edward nygma x reader #edward nigma x reader #edward nashton x reader #arkhamverse riddler x reader #reevesverse riddler x reader #dano riddler x reader #gotham riddler x reader #btas riddler x reader #zero year riddler x reader #capullo riddler x reader #twojar riddler x reader #gotham city sirens riddler x reader #yj riddler x reader #young justice riddler x reader #telltale riddler x reader #hush (dcau) riddler x reader

[anatee]

Bloody Skywalker | Pt. 3 | Anakin x Reader

Part 1 Part 2 Part 4

Summary: Obi-Wan knew that putting two young people together would result in too many emotions to handle, yet he just stood there and watched it all unfold for years. The most interesting things, however, are happening right where he can’t see the bloody Skywalker.

Content: Anakin x Female!Padawan!reader, Padme hate club, fluff, some mature content but nothing too explicit, Revenge of the Sith references

Word count: 3.2K

Thank you for all the love on the previous part! If you like this one as well, I’ll add a part 4, too ♥ Tagging as requested @badpvn​ @anhsoka​ @adoringanakin​ @sophiejiro​ @lucyysthings​ @stxrrielle​ @justiceforthomasbarrow​ @annabanana262​ @canvashearts​ @organasith​ @graciexmarvel​

Waiting for Anakin to come back was torture. She kept on hearing rumours about him dying, and although she had official information from the Jedi that he was alright, every time she heard the rumours again, her heart sank.

If fear for his well-being wasn't enough, there was also the elephant in the room: their kiss, and the unspoken confession that came with it.

Y/N wasn't surprised Yoda told her that so many bad emotions were a way to the dark side, because really dark moments came to her indeed. She kept on questioning why she couldn't be happy.... Why was love such a sin? She could have never expected Anakin to reciprocate her feelings and now that he did, she still couldn't do anything about it. This ignited the tiniest flame of hate for the Jedi in her... Or at least for the rules they represented.

She spent most of her waiting time wondering what to say to him when they do meet again. They had to talk about what happened, especially now that the emotions had calmed down - they had to establish what it meant.

However, Y/N herself didn't know what her attitude was. It wasn't the matter of whether she wanted him or not - she knew she did - it was whether they were brave, or irresponsible, enough to break the Jedi code right under the Council's nose.

The day finally came. Anakin was returning to the Jedi temple as a hero - Chancellor Palpatine had been rescued. Y/N felt relieved; he was okay, it was all that mattered, and she had to stop worrying this much. She made sure to be among the people who welcomed him in the Jedi temple, wishing to see if he was alright with her own eyes.

However, moments before his arrival, she saw something that immediately ruined her mood.

Padme. Waiting there behind one of the pillars.

Y/N felt a knot forming in her stomach and for the first time she thought... What if Anakin lied to her?

At that point there was no time for deliberating.  Master Windu was the one to welcome Anakin and Palpatine, and she was standing a bit behind him, yet she could still feel Skywalker's gaze on her. He was smiling, clearly excited about seeing her - he looked as though he might burst from anticipation, wanting to talk to her as soon as possible. She could even sense it through the Force while he was staring into her eyes, her heart fluttering out of both happiness and nervousness.

So what was Padme doing there?

Everyone began walking further into the temple at some point, and this was when Y/N thought she would get to talk to him... Before he stopped to speak with Padme instead. Feeling like a complete loser, she began walking behind Windu again.

And just half a minute later, she heard her name being called.

"Y/N!"

She stopped, then turned to see Anakin running towards her, having left Padme behind the pillar. Before she could react, he embraced her, then stepped back immediately to look at her face.

"I'm so happy to see you," he admitted, breathing heavily. "I've missed you so much."

Y/N wanted to say that to him, too, but couldn't not address "Padme in the room".

"What has just happened?" she asked, indicating her with her head.

Anakin sighed. "I told you. Padme wants me back. And I don't, that's all. She came to persuade me and to ask if I were okay."

"Oh. I see," Y/N replied, still feeling somehow uneasy. "Well, I'm glad you've kept your promise," she added with a smile that made Anakin feel warmer.

"I always keep my promises," he said with a smirk, then turned serious. "Listen, can we talk tonight? On the roof? There's so much I've been thinking about..."

"I do think we should talk, but not there... Someone may hear us."

"Then come to my room, alright?" he added, excitement gleaming in his eyes. "At any time you want."

"I'll be there. Promise," she said as an echo to his promise, making sure he knew he could count on her. "Come on now. They're waiting for you, hero."

"Oh, stop it." He rolled his eyes, but was still smiling as they followed Windu and the others much ahead of them, arm to arm.

That evening, the sunset on Coruscant was exceptionally beautiful. Anakin was watching it with a slight smile on his face, sitting on his bed shirtless, thinking about his successful mission... And, most importantly, about his upcoming meeting with Y/N.

He sensed her immediately when she appeared behind the door and told her to come in. So she did, and the moment she saw him, her heart began fluttering.

"You like to walk around shirtless lately, don't you?" she said more to calm herself down than do anything else.

"I'm just tired," he replied, still sitting on the bed as he watched her close the door behind her. "I wanted to get comfortable in my own bed after a tiring mission... Could I not?"

"Right, you're a hero now." She chuckled. "Should I bow?"

"Oh, come on." He rolled his eyes, then patted the space next to him so she would sit next to him. "It's just... Today I became a member of the Council."

"Really? Congratulations," Y/N said, settling herself next to him, but still keeping her distance. "You deserve it more than anyone else."

"Yes, but... I'm not sure if I'm happy with it. They wouldn't grant me the position of a Master." He looked down, and his words confused Y/N greatly.

"Why? How can you be on the Council without..."

"I told them the same!" Anakin interjected, looking at her in frustration. "I don't know. I'll figure it out later, somehow..." He took a deep breath to compose himself. "But now, that's not what I wanted to talk to you about."

This was when the atmosphere between them changed immediately. They both looked away from each other, hearts beating faster, considering their next words. Finally, it was Y/N who couldn't stand the pressure.

"Right... Anakin, I'll put it to you as bluntly as possible because I think that's the best way. Jedi to Jedi. Why... Why did you kiss me?" she asked, then covered her mouth as if not believing she had just said that.

But this was it, this was the question that had been on her mind ever since that night, among a few others.

Anakin took a deep breath, then grabbed her hands to her utter shock. She looked up to look him in the eyes - and he could see how surprised she was.

"Listen, I recently realised how important you are to me. More than I thought," he began, squeezing her hands. "Lately all I've been doing is reminiscing about all the moments we spent together and I realised... How good I feel around you. I have no bad memories with you... Just..."

Y/N was close to shivering. All these words, the emotions flowing through both of them, connecting where they touched, the Force swirling around them, tingling, making them feel much more than they already were.

"Before I split up with Padme, I asked myself what are the reasons why," Anankin continued, still holding her hands. "And it was not only because she didn't understand me... It was also because I found myself thinking about someone else."

He didn't have to say it. They both knew whom he was talking about as Y/N gulped, looking away.

"So my question is... Why did you kiss back?" he asked softly, trying to get her to look at him again.

"Because.... Kriff, I am not supposed to feel this way about anyone, Anakin. Let alone you." She got out of his grip and covered her face with her hands. "But I guess we both know love does not choose. And I fell in love with you, Anakin, a long time ago. That's why I wanted to leave the Order. There you have it, that's it."

After that came a silence, a scary one. Y/N was absolutely frightened and didn't dare look him in the eye after this, not believing she actually confessed her feelings, when this was the last thing she should have done. With hands still on her face, she tried to take a deep breath and prevent herself from crying - mostly out of fear - but it was getting harder.

Anakin, on the other hand, looked like he was about to jump from happiness.

"Y/N... Y/N, look at me." He grabbed her hands to uncover her face. "Y/N, I'm so happy to hear this. I feel the same about you, too. It just took me a bit too long to realise I had the special person right beside me all this time."

She wasn't even able to comprehend his confession, devoured by fear.

"But Anakin, we can't..." She moved away from him.

"Would it really change that much?" he argued, grabbing her hands to pull her closer again. "We see each other every day anyway... And nobody has to know."

Y/N lowered her gaze again, considering everything. Her heart wanted her to jump, to kiss Anakin endlessly, and to not care about the Order at all. And slowly but surely, these thoughts began clouding her mind...

"You know, I've been thinking a lot about how... " she spoke softly, still staring at the floor. "How they want to take away what's most human. Love."

"Not the only thing we don't agree with them on," Anakin said bitterly.

"But they would kick us out if they knew..."

"They would lose two Jedi knights. We would lose nothing."

After a long while of thinking, Y/N felt anger igniting inside her. The Order couldn't control her life... Not when she was about to be the happiest she's ever been in her life.

"Well..." She raised her head finally. "There's not a word about kissing in the code, is there? Oh, kriff, I'm becoming as cheesy as you. Bloody Skywalker."

"We'll handle it somehow," he replied, then used one of his hands to bring her face closer to his... And then closed the distance between them in a chaste, loving kiss.

And this time, the emotions were even stronger than the first time. She stopped thinking, because she knew it would lead her to nowhere. Kissing back with just as much enthusiasm, she gave in, allowing him to do whatever he wanted.

And so he deepened the kiss, gripping her hips firmly as he used the Force to lower her into the mattress, catching her by surprise.

"This is not how our Masters taught us to use the Force, is it?" she said, breaking the kiss.

His face was hovering right over hers, as beautiful as ever, young, fresh, and reddish from the feverish kisses they had already exchanged; he was perfect, and it was naïve of her to ever think she could resist him.

"If you allow me, then that will not be the last time I use the Force inappropriately on you."

Her cheeks flushed red when he said that, and she was glad he came back to kissing her, allowing her to forget about any kind of embarrassment. And yet, she opened her mouth, letting the kiss become less and less innocent, and her heart less and less doubtful.

She raised her hand and buried it in his longish hair, something she had been dreaming of doing for a long time. He loved it, he was getting drunk on the feeling as he used his hands to show her how happy he was, gently massaging the sides of her body, sending shivers of pleasure through her as a result.

After what seemed like an eternity, he broke off the kiss and used one hand to prop himself up while the other cupped her face. They loved looking at each other in this state, cheeks reddened, hair dishevelled, breathing uneven - and at this point they both knew they weren't going to stop just tonight.

"Remember that time..." he began, trying to catch his breath, smiling at her slyly. "That one time we walked in on each other naked?"

His words turned the atmosphere much more intimate in a matter of seconds as memories of that day immediately clouded Y/N's mind. It was years ago, and it was completely accidental - it just so happened they both wanted to use the thermal baths at the same time, and neither of them expected to see anyone else there in the middle of the night. They didn't see much, either, it was quite dark... But enough to ignite each other's imagination.

"How could one forget it?" she whispered, gazing into his eyes. "But we decided not to talk about it ever again, remember?"

Anakin moved his thumb along her wet lips, weighing his words.

"Then I may... Break this promise," he whispered in response. "I read your thoughts back then."

"Anakin!" she yelled, embarrassed even if it were years ago. She remembered what she thought clearly, and it wasn't anything appropriate. But she also thought he couldn't blame her for this; he knew how he looked like.

"Oh, look at me and don't tell me you didn't do the same," he teased and she gulped.

She was guilty, too. And she knew what he thought, too, but she didn't think too much about it back then. He was a maturing boy then, it was normal...

She tried to bite back, although she was defenceless. "At least I never mentioned it as promised." 

"But would you mind... If we saw it all again?"

The answer was all over her face. At this moment, she wouldn't refuse anything he suggested. And yet, she still tried to keep the higher ground.

Using the Force, she pushed him back rapidly so he was the one laying on his back.

"Woah! And who's using the Force wrong now?" he asked, watching her crawl over him.

"I'm following the Jedi who's part of the Council now, aren't I?" She smirked. "If you heard my thoughts, then you know what I want to do."

He gave her even a more confident smirk.

"I certainly do. You don't even know how many times I came back to these..."

"Who knew you were so needy, Anakin?" she asked, pecking him. "I did," she added in a whisper, proud of herself. "But not today. I'm going to test you first, Skywalker. You may be a good Jedi, but can you be a good boyfriend?"

"You know I'll take it as a challenge."

"Please do," she whispered, then lowered herself to begin kissing him again. It was his turn to play with her hair, and it seemed ages before they eventually became too breathless to do anything.

They fell down next to each other in darkness; the sun had already set behind the window, bringing a starry nigh to Coruscant, one they weren't going to ever forget.

Although Y/N was being hugged by him from the side, and she could feel the warmth of his skin on her own cheek, she still couldn't believe it wasn't her dream she found herself in. She kept on raising her head and looking at Anakin's face to make sure it was him beside her. For a while, they just stayed there in silence, enjoying each other's presence and the Force swirling around them, until Y/N let out a loud sigh.

"And now I will have to sneak out to my own room. Good luck to me," she said, already planning the route in her head.

Anakin pulled her closer immediately. "No, please, stay here."

"You're really demoralising me." She smacked his bare chest, looking at him. "What if Obi-Wan comes here? Pays you a little visit?"

"I wanted this for so long I don't even care," he replied, then kissed her on the forehead. "If anyone sees, we'll tell them you were feeling unwell and just came to me seeking help."

"Lying now, are we?" she joked, but then thought again that they weren't doing anything wrong and it was the Order that forced them to lie. "Alright. I'll stay."

"And I promise you won't regret this."

They slept together peacefully, or so it seemed, until they both woke up suddenly. Y/N felt Anakin's arm leave her body as he sat up, worrying her.

"Anakin?" she asked sleepily, unable to see anything in the dark. "What's happening?" she muttered, slowly forcing herself to sit up as well.

"Don't worry, Y/N, I just... I just had a nightmare," he admitted with a sigh. "To be honest, not for the first time."

She immediately opened her arms to embrace him. "Oh, come here..." 

Anakin hesitated, then decided it would be best if he told her the truth.

"It was about you," he whispered. "You were given a lightsaber, you thanked for it and it was red."

"Who gave it to me?" she asked, then wondered why it mattered to her so much.

"I don't know, this person had a hood on. But I... I feel like it's a bad prophecy. I feel like something bad is going to happen to you, I had these nightmares before my mother..."

"Talk to Yoda about it," she cut him off without hesitation, putting her hands on his shoulders. "Don't mention names, of course... But he should know what to do. I assure you."

Anakin considered her words for a moment, then smiled before kissing her on her nose.

"You always know what to say to me. Part of why I fell in love with you."

Her heart fluttered at these words. She was glad he couldn't see her face at the moment and she had time to calm down.

"Now you fall asleep, Skywalker." She fixed his hair for no reason, just to touch him in any way. "And hold me if you have any more nightmares, kiddo."

He didn't need her to repeat it twice.

Next day was full of mixed emotions for Y/N. Guilt and fear were there, because she knew she was breaking the code she swore to obey and lying to Obi-Wan's face after he helped her. At the same time, she couldn't help but smile at any mention, any thought of Anakin slipping into her mind, and that feeling of constant happiness was already becoming addictive. Finally, there was anger, burning even more than the day before - anger that she had to hide with something as pure as love while they expected her to fight to death for the Republic.

She had no idea that while she was thinking about all of this, Anakin was thinking about her, too - even talking about her with Chancellor Palpatine himself.

"You are far too skilled, Anakin. That's why they fear you," the Chancellor said loudly. "If you follow me, however... I also see a way for you to be with the person closest to you."

Anakin looked up at the Chancellor in complete shock.

"Y/N is her name, isn't it?"

"How did you know?" he asked in disbelief.

"I know everything I need to know, Anakin," Palpatine replied in an obvious tone. "Besides, I know her, too."

"Y/N really respects you too, Chancellor."

"Then bring her to me as well if she understands that the Jedi council's decisions are bad for you."

For a moment, Anakin didn't react, then he finally nodded. He decided he would bring her to him. Maybe this will be a chance for them to be together?

#anakin #anakin x reader #anakin imagine #anakin skywalker #anakin skywalker imagine #star wars #star wars fanfiction #anakin x you #padawan #skywalker #yoda #jedi #obi-wan

[emotionalcadaver]

Part 11: Don't Look Back

Fandom: Peaky Blinders

Pairing: Tommy Shelby x OC

Summary: Lucy tries to convince her family to move to someplace safer, but her brother was never one to make things easy for her.

Word Count: 4,605

Notes: I apologize for how long it’s taken me to update Lucy’s series, but I’m back! Warnings for depictions of minor character deaths, religious fanaticism, murder, blood, violence, and references to past sexual assault.

Masterlists: Main • Series • Fic

Previous Part • Next Part

Chapter 1: We All Fall Down

Lucy did not like London.

The city itself was fine. But the memories that the place drudged up left her on edge, nerves shot. And the closer she got to that…place, that narrow little alleyway, the closer she tattered towards an emotional meltdown.

Her mother’s home, the home she’d spent a large share of her teenage and early adult years in, was not all that far from that place.

It was with a heave of will that she pushed down the jitteriness building within her, and braved to walk those familiar roads, winding her way to the family home she’d lived in since they’d moved from Yorkshire to London while in her teens. The gray stone looked perhaps the tiniest bit more beaten up than before, but everything else seemed to be utterly unchanging; right down to the street lights and moss growing over the sides of the house.

There weren’t a lot of great memories waiting for her inside.

Stealing her nerves and drawing in a deep breath, she rapped her fist twice against the wooden door. There was the sound of footsteps on the other side, then the clicks of locks being undone, and finally the door swept open.

“Lucy,” Teddy grinned at her, his head of red locks overgrown and messy. He pulled her into a great hug that squeezed her ribs.

“Hey, Teddy,” she smiled, stretching on her toes to ruffle her little brother’s hair.

“Come on in,” he stepped aside to let her inside. The interior of the house smelled like freshly baked biscuits. Very little had changed, since she’d last been there. The decor was all the same, with books and photographs crammed into every tiny space, the red and green rug faded, even the couch and armchairs in the living room were in the exact same placements as the last time she’d visited.

“How’ve you been?” she asked, shedding her coat and hat to hang on a hook.

“Not bad. You?”

“Busy,” she said. Teddy offered her another grin.

“I bet. I’ve got some more stuff for you and Thomas. Remind me before you leave and I’ll get it for you.”

“Great, thanks.”

“No problem.”

“Tommy says thanks too.” 

“Glad to hear that the boss is happy,” he shot her a conspiratorial look. “Mum’s in the kitchen.”

“Hey,” her voice dropped in volume, catching his arm before he could turn to lead her to the kitchen in the back of the house. “Have you made any progress in getting them to move?”

Teddy’s smile fell. “Mum’s open to it, but…”

“Lucy.”

Her heart sank, turning to the stairs, where Elliot was standing with his hands in his pockets, lips pressed in a firm line.

“Hi, Elliot.”

“What are you doing here?”

She shrugged. “We’re in the city on business. Thought I’d come by to say hi.”

“We?” he asked. Lucy swallowed roughly.

“Me and my boss.”

“Hm.”

“Luce, come one. Come say hi to Mum,” Teddy said, tugging on her arm, steering her towards the kitchen and away from Elliot.

The kitchen was warm, pots and pans soaking in water in the sink, a kettle on the stove.

“Hi, Mum.”

Her mother was a short, slender woman, with long, curly dark red hair and green eyes that matched those of all her children. Her hair fell nearly to her waist, flowing loosely. Her eyes were lined with dark makeup, an obscene amount of rings and bracelets adorning her slim hands. 

“Lucy!” she flung her arms around her only daughter in a bone crushing hug, shockingly strong for a woman so small. “Oh, my baby girl. It’s so good to see you. What are you doing in London?”

“Just a quick business thing.”

“You should have said! You and your friends are always welcome to stay here!”

Behind her, she heard Elliot scoff, brushing past her to remove the whistling kettle from the stove.

“Have you been alright?” Lucy asked, shifting from foot to foot, choosing to ignore her brother.

“Oh, yes, yes of course.”

Nodding, Lucy leaned awkwardly against the wall, then wetted her lips. “Listen, Mum, there’s something that I wanted to talk to you about.”

“Oh, here we fucking go,” Elliot growled out. 

“Elliot, please,” her mother scolded, then turned attentively back to Lucy. “What is it?”

Her foot tapped anxiously against the floor. “There have been some things happening with the company lately, and I think that it would be better…safer for everyone, if maybe you and Teddy and Elliot all came up to Birmingham for a while.”

Her mother’s brows pinched. “Is everything alright?”

“Yeah,” Lucy said quickly. “Yes, of course, there’s just…there’s some things that are going to start happening here, and Tommy and I both think that it would be for the best if you got out of the city for a while.”

Her mother wasn’t stupid, nor were her brothers. But she’d never had the heart to fully tell them the truth of what she had been up to all these years in Birmingham. Teddy knew more than the other two, but not everything. Surely, her mother had to have heard the rumors, maybe even seen things in the paper, and she clearly knew that the kind of work Lucy had been doing for Tommy was morally dubious at best. But they’d never talked about it openly.

“You want us to come to Birmingham?” her mother asked, slowly. Lucy nodded.

“Just for a little while.”

“Oh, well, I suppose that would be alright–”

Elliot took a sip of the tea he’d been brewing while she got through her proposal.

“I’m not going to Birmingham,” he said. Lucy’s head snapped around to him.

“It doesn’t have to be Birmingham. You could go on holiday, all three of you. Go to…to America. You’ve always wanted to see the Statue of Liberty, right Mum? I’ll pay for it–”

“No,” Elliot set down his teacup and saucer. “I mean, that I’m not going anywhere. I’m staying right here.”

She felt her temper begin to crackle under her skin. “Elliot, it’s not safe–”

“Why not?”

Her jaw set furiously. “I can’t tell you that.”

“Then I’m not leaving.”

“For fucks sake, Elliot, could you just once do what I goddamn ask you to–”

“Don’t speak to your brother like that, Lucy,” her mother said.

“I’m not going,” Elliot finished off his tea, heading to the backdoor. “And that’s final.”

Lucy watched him go helplessly, hands hanging at her sides. “Okay, well, we can at least get you and Teddy set up at…” she trailed off at the look on her mother’s face. “Mum?”

“Lucy, I can’t leave without Elliot.”

“Mum, please–”

“I’m sorry.”

She glanced over her shoulder at Teddy, who gave her a sad, helpless shrug. A furious, frustrated growl rumbled in her throat.

“Stay here,” the back door slammed shut behind her after she pushed it open and stepped through it, storming towards where Elliot was bending over a little garden they had on the backside of the house. “What the fuck is your problem?”

“I’m not leaving my home without good reason.”

“Oh and is you might get fucking killed not a good enough reason for you?”

“Who might kill us?” he asked. “Why would they kill us?” his eyes narrowed. “Do you even have any answers? Or are you just following the orders of your boss up in Birmingham?”

“I can’t tell you without compromising–”

“You know, I’ve been reading about all of the shit he’s done, the past few years. The shit that you’ve done,” he was suddenly right up in her face. “The Devil. That’s what they call him up there, right? That’s what they’re starting to call him down around here now, too. You might’ve sold your soul to him, but I’m not about to let the rest of us be dragged down with you.”

“You don't know what you’re talking about.”

Elliot leaned back, eyes gleaming cruelly. “I know what you did. What you still do. If there is anyone who this family needs protecting from, it’s you, Lucy,” he licked his lips. “You’re a monster, a demon wearing human skin–”

“Can you please stop it with the melodramatics?”

“Oh? So you're not the one that they call the Red Demon up in Birmingham?” 

She went silent, looking at him in quiet calculation. Elliot scoffed.

“None of this would have happened if you’d just stayed and done what you were told.”

“Excuse me?”

“You should have stayed here and married Matthew.”

Bile rose up in her throat at the very thought. “You would say that, knowing what he did to me?”

“It would have been better than you giving yourself away to the fucking Devil,” the next look Elliot shot her way was one of pure disgust. “I know that you’re fucking him,” at her shocked look, he laughed, humorlessly. “Please. The innocent act only works on Teddy and Mum. Not on me.” 

Crossing her arms around herself, Lucy stared at him with silent dread. He sounded so much like their father, it was as if he was standing right in front of her. The very thought had a chill running up her spine. “I’ll have Tommy place protection outside the house. If you won’t leave.”

“No. We don’t need him.”

“Elliot, I’m trying to keep you all safe you daft fucking idiot!”

“If I even think that I see Peaky Blinders outside this house, I’ll chase them off with Teddy’s revolver myself,” he looked at her hatefully. “You know I’ll do it.”

“You’re going to get you all killed.”

“No, I think that would be more your fault than mine,” he turned back to the garden.

A stab of hatred flooded over her, lips pulled back from her teeth in a snarl. “Fuck you,” she hissed at him, fighting back the desire to strangle him, spinning on her heel, she began to walk towards the back door of the house.

“Dad was right, you know,” Elliot’s voice called to her from across the yard. “You really are nothing but a fucking slut.”

Her steps staggered, the breath punched from her chest for a moment at the words, throat constricting. It took a controlled, deep intake of breath to stave off the tears suddenly building behind her eyes.

She didn’t allow them to fall until she bid Teddy and her mother goodbye, walking down the gray streets all alone. 

∗ ∗ ∗ 

Tommy was in the washroom when he heard Lucy come in, key unlocking the hotel room before the door opened, then closed behind her. Drawing the razor across his jaw in careful, calculated movements, he finished shaving his face, wiping the remnants of shaving cream off, splashing some water on his face, wiping over his chest, then drying off and pulling his shirt back on.

When he stepped out into the hotel room, Lucy had folded herself onto the windowsill, legs hugged to her chest, fingers pressed to her mouth as she stared out the window at the rapidly darkening city. Night would be upon them soon.

“Luce?”

She coughed. “Teddy collected some more information for us. Thought you might want to have a look,” she held out a bundle of papers that had been cradled in her lap to him. Tommy took the packet, glancing at her curiously as he set it down on his bed.

“Alright.”

She still wasn’t looking at him, instead keeping her head turned to the window. Settling his hands in his pockets, he tilted his head.

“How did the conversation go with your Mum?” he asked, even though by her grim mood, he could already have made a pretty good guess.

“They’re not moving,” she said. Tommy nodded.

“I’ll have men posted outside the house.”

“No. If you do, Elliot will just try to chase them off and probably get somebody shot,” she rubbed her palms together, looking down. Tommy felt his brows furrow, moving closer until he was right beside her.

“Are you okay?” there was something in her voice that he didn’t like.

“Fine.”

He cupped her chin with one hand, tilting her head back until she looked at him. Her eyes were red, clearly she’d been crying.

“Lucy…”

“Really, I’m okay.”

“We’ll figure out how to keep them safe.”

Her face twisted and Tommy cocked his head.

“What?”

“Nothing,” she scrubbed at her face. “Elliot’s just a dick.”

A flare of protectiveness built within his chest. Tommy had never even met Elliot, and yet he still held a not insignificant dislike for the man. It didn’t help that he always seemed to leave Lucy jittery with nerves and sadness, though her crying at something Elliot had said was new.

“What did he say to you?”

Lucy just shook her head stubbornly, jaw tensed in that way that he knew meant he’d have to practically pry her jaws open to get an answer. Sighing, deciding that it wouldn’t be a good time to push her, he just drew her into the circle of his arms, her head thumping against his chest while he rubbed her back.

“It’ll be okay.”

She nodded silently.

“We need to get going soon.”

“Right,” she stood from the windowsill, going to the washroom, blotting at her eyes and redoing her makeup, fluffing her curls. Tommy leaned against the doorframe, watching her with his arms crossed over his chest. Once she was done, she sat down on the end of one of the beds while he pulled his waistcoat and holster back on, the toe of her shoe rubbing against the carpet.

“Do you think that I’m a slut?”

He almost dropped his revolver as he tucked it back into the holster. “What?”

Lucy was looking at him with big eyes, face uncharacteristically vulnerable as she shrugged. Stalking across the room, he came to a stop in front of her, cupping her face in his hands.

“Of course not.”

Her breaths rattled, nodding once, eyes closing as she leaned into his touch. Tommy bent to kiss her lips, rubbing a dark red curl between his fingers.

“Besides, who said that there’s anything wrong with that?”

That got a tiny laugh from her, eyes darting down, to his relief a bit of life returning to her cheeks. Taking both her hands in his, he pulled her to her feet, enjoying the way that she bumped against his chest.

“Come on, let’s go cause some trouble.”   

∗ ∗ ∗ 

“Lucy, there’s a phone call for you.”

She glanced up from her papers, frowning. “For me? Or for Tommy?”

“For you,” Polly whisked around her. “It’s your brother.”

“Oh.”

“Phone in the back.”

“Thanks,” she put down her pen and stood, squeezing around the other men in the betting shop to get to the phone in the backroom. Picking it up, she held it to her ear. “What’s going on, Teddy?”

“It’s Elliot.”

She started. Never before had Elliot called her. Never. It was always only Teddy or her mother.

“Where’s Teddy?”

She listened as the voice spoke on the other end, a numbness seizing her bones, leaving her cold. She might have mumbled out something that could have been considered some form of instructions, or she might have just hung up the phone without an answer; she wasn’t sure, staggering back to the kitchen and slumping down into a chair.

“Oh, good lord,” Polly looked up from the kettle of tea she was making. “What’s wrong with you?”

The floorboards creaked, Tommy stepping in from the front sitting room and into the kitchen, swiping a cigarette across his lips.

“My brother just died,” Lucy said numbly, and Polly froze.

“What?” Tommy said, moving to squat down in front of her. Lucy fumbled to tuck a lock of hair behind her ear.

“Yeah, he, um, Elliot just called me. I guess he was following someone, and the man noticed, confronted him about it…things got out of hand, someone pulled a gun…”

Tommy’s hand moved to rest on her knee, pressing circles in through the material of her slacks. “I’m so, so sorry, love.”

Polly went to close the double doors to the main part of the shop. Tommy rose to remove the kettle as it started to shriek.

“Which one is Teddy?” Polly asked Tommy in a hushed whisper as she moved to help him with the tea. “Is he the one she likes, or the one she doesn’t get along with?”

“The one she likes,” Tommy said, plucking the teacup from Polly and bringing it over to sit in front of Lucy. She stared down at her hands, the tiniest of tremors having found its way into her fingertips.

“I have to go back to London,” she said. Tommy nodded.

“Of course.”

“I should–I should see about moving Mum and Elliot closer…”

“One thing at a time, love. I’ll come with you.”

“Tommy, we need you here–” Polly began to bristle.

“You can manage a few days without me. Besides, we need to look into this man Teddy had a conflict with,” he took Lucy’s hands pulling her from her seat. “Come, let’s get you some fresh air.”

“Tommy–!”

“Not right now, Polly,” he said sternly, guiding Lucy with a firm arm around her to the door.

They stepped out onto the gray street, Tommy ushering her away from the betting shop, around a corner, and then into a secluded alley. And there, without the pressures of needing to appear stoic and strong in front of Polly or the public, she let her head fall forward onto Tommy’s chest, and began to weep.

∗ ∗ ∗ 

“I need to go see my Mum,” Lucy said, looking out over the expanse of the river from where they were standing on the road. Tommy cocked his head, hand reaching out to brush against hers.

“Do you want me to come with you?”

“No, I think it better if I go alone,” she tucked a lock of hair behind her ear, wrapping her arms around herself and offering him a weak smile.

“I’ll go see what I can find about the man who killed him.”

“Divide and conquer, then? Meet back at the hotel around noon?”

“Alright,” he stooped to press a quick kiss to her lips. “Be careful.”

“You too.”

She started to walk down the road. When she looked over her shoulder, it was to find him still staring after her, hands shoved into his pockets and frowning. But upon her giving him a little smile and wave, his lips tilted upwards. She could feel his eyes on her until she rounded the corner. As she moved further and further away from Tommy, her smile fell, head hanging as she sniffed.

The house seemed to loom over her more than normal; its shadow dark and cold as it cast over her. Lucy gulped as she pulled the spare key Teddy had given her from her pocket, and opened the door. The hinges screamed.

“Mum?” she called out as she closed the door behind her. “Elliot?” Baskets full of flowers and baked bread were stacked neatly in the living room, the odor from the flowers sickly sweet and pungent. There was the sound of footsteps clattering down the stairs, and then a figure was flying at her, arms outstretched towards her throat.

“You! This is your fault! This is all your fault! You disgusting whore!” Elliot was screaming as he threw himself at her. Lucy’s back collided with the door, hands barely managing to catch at his wrists before they would have wrapped around her throat.

“Elliot!”

“He’s dead, he’s dead because of you!”

She lifted her knee to crash into his stomach, and he doubled over coughing, then choked as her next punch struck him directly in the throat, leaving him to collapse to the floor. Stepping over him, she rested a foot on his chest, pushing him down roughly into the hardwood. 

“Don’t ever come at me like that again.” 

Elliot looked up at her with hateful eyes, but made no other move to attack her. With a deep breath, she removed her foot to allow him to sit up.

“Where’s Mum?”

Elliot didn’t say anything, instead just rubbing his throat. Rolling her eyes, Lucy stepped past him and headed into the kitchen.

Her mother was seated in her rocking chair in the corner of the little breakfast nook, staring out the window. Her red hair was tangled, clothes wrinkled and rumpled. The rocking chair creaked back and forth, back and forth.

“Mum,” Lucy said, quietly, taking a cautious step forward. When she didn’t respond, Lucy knelt down in front of her, grasping her hands. “Mum?”

“Oh, Lucy,” her mother said, as if waking from a daze. “Lucy, you’re here.”

“Yeah, I am,” she stroked some of her mother’s hair away from her face. “Are you okay?”

Her mother’s bottom lip started to tremble. “They don’t know–the police don’t know–”

“I know. It’ll be okay,” she said, raising to hug her mother.

“Oh, I’m so glad you’ve come home.”

They parted. “Have you eaten?”

“O-oh, no.”

“How about some of the bread and jam your neighbors have sent you?”

“Alright, I suppose so.”

She went back into the living room, snatching a loaf and a container of dark purple jam from one of the baskets. Elliot had pulled himself to his feet, and he followed her back into the kitchen. Lucy scraped a knife over the slices of bread, smearing the jam before passing a slice to her mother.

“Mum,” she crouched down in front of her again. “I know you probably don’t want to hear this right now, but after the funeral, I thought maybe you could come stay with me in Birmingham for a while. You and Elliot. Or maybe you could go out into the countryside. Join up with the caravan with your kin.”

“I said no, Lucy,” Elliot growled. But her mother looked tempted.

“Wait, Elliot, maybe…maybe Lucy’s right.”

“No.”

“But-”

“I am the man of this house. What I say goes. And it certainly isn’t going to be superseded by a disgusting slut.”

“Elliot that is enough! You do not speak to your sister like that!”

“I don’t want her at the funeral,” he growled. “It’s her fault Teddy’s dead! She has no right to go!”

“That is not–”

“No, he’s right,” Lucy said, voice quiet. “I shouldn’t go.”

“Oh, my Lucy, no. Please, come,” her mother reached for her hand, choking on tears. “Teddy would have wanted you to come.”

“That’s sweet of you to think, Mama,” she said as gently as she could. “But I don’t want to cause any problems,” she shot a glance at Elliot. If she went to the funeral, there was almost bound to be a fight between them; be it during or after. That was the last thing that her mother needed right now.

“I’m sure that it has nothing to do with you being unable to step foot inside a church, does it?” Elliot sneered. Lucy rolled her eyes.

“I’m not a fucking vampire, Elliot, I can walk in a church just fine,” thought honestly, she didn’t particularly enjoy it. Churches made her uncomfortable. Reaching out, she combed her fingers through her mother’s hair. “Think about what I said about leaving, okay?”

Her mother nodded wordlessly, and she stooped to kiss her cheek. She caught at Lucy’s hand, holding onto her with a grip like iron. “Lucy, don’t go.”

“I have to, right now, okay? But I’ll be back. I’ll come see you after the funeral,” it took a long moment before her mother loosened her grip on her and nodded. Straightening, Lucy left the kitchen, heading back to the front door.

“We’re not leaving,” Elliot insisted, following her. 

“We’ll see.”

“Where are you going?”

“I have things to do.” 

“Things with the Devil?”

“Things like tracking down Teddy’s killer. I’ll see you later,” she closed the door before he could say anymore.

∗ ∗ ∗ 

“You’re really not going to go to the funeral?” Tommy asked, lighting her cigarette for her as they stood at the edge of the park, the shadows of the tree above them almost completely hiding them from view. Lucy shook her head.

“No, I don’t think so. Elliot doesn’t want me to. It would just cause unnecessary problems,” she took a puff of her cigarette. “I’ll pay my respects later,” there were times where the grief that she had attempted to shove down, at least until these issues with Teddy’s killer and her mother and brother were resolved, started crawling up her throat and she had to swallow it back down, voice choking around it. 

Tommy put a hand on her hip, letting her lean backwards until his chest met her back, arms going around her. Lucy closed her eyes. They were alone in the park, it well past midnight. The whole area was secluded and not often traveled. There would be no risks of interruptions.

A car drove up to stop at the edge of the park, and two of their men stepped out, the silhouettes of their caps clear in the dim light of the streetlamp. Tommy coughed, letting her go as the men went around to the trunk, popping it open and pulling out a figure, bound and gagged, and beginning to drag him along the grass to them. He groaned as they tossed him at their feet.

“Thank you, boys,” Tommy pulled from his coat pocket a wad of bills that he split in half, handing each to the men. They nodded in silent respect, went back to get into their car, and drove off. Lucy squatted down in front of the man, her head tilting. It hadn’t been all too hard to find him. There were plenty of witnesses to the altercation between him and Teddy. After that, it was just asking around, learning which pubs he liked to frequent, then sending some of their boys to pick him up.

“Hello, Mr. Larry Baxter,” Tommy said in that deep purr of his. “Do you know who we are?”

Baxter shivered in his bonds, eyes darting from one to the other, then nodded.

“Good. Do you know why you are here?”

Baxter hesitated only a moment, then nodded.

“Good,” Tommy reached into his coat, pulling his revolver from its holster. “Would you like to do the honors, or shall I?” he asked her.

“I want to do it,” Lucy said, staring down at Baxter in silent, shivering rage. Tommy held out the grip of the gun to her. Taking it with one hand, she plucked from her lips her cigarette, giving it to him. Tommy brought it to his lips casually, watching lazily as she approached Baxter. Raising the gun to aim at one of his eyes, she cocked it.

Her brother had been shot in the face. The funeral would be a closed casket one, considering the extent of the damage.

An eye for an eye.

She pulled the trigger, and blew a bullet directly through his eye, into his skull. Blood and brains splattered onto the green grass.

Green and red. Like the faded rug in her mother’s living room.

Tommy took the gun from her, sliding it back under his coat. His hand touched her hair, massaging the base of her skull.

They weighed Baxter down with stones and tossed him into the river. And as they walked home Lucy let her head rest against Tommy’s shoulder, the scent of blood still lodged deeply in her nose, the taste of the salty tears rolling down her cheeks on her lips.

Thank you for reading! Please consider leaving a comment, reblog, or like. I always appreciate feedback and love getting the opportunity to interact with you and hear your thoughts!

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Masterlists: Main • Series • Fic

#tommy shelby #tommy shelby x oc #peaky blinders #lucy winters #lucy winters x tommy shelby #my ocs #fanfiction #my fanfiction #don't look back

[beautifulhigh]

my whole life I’ve been under her raincoat Gen, 2k, AO3 link

So we can fully blame @reyesstrand​ for this. She reblogged this post of two tigers playing, saying it was a certain couple. To which I sent her this ask which gave out all the feels and so I said I'd write it.

Then she went and put the tag "#tk makes him feel like he can take up space as he’s meant to" on a Carlos post and my heart just went into overdrive.

So thank you for letting me write something so sweet and fun and lovely - it was exactly what my heart and head needed in the difficult times I'm dealing with and gave me something to break my semi-hiatus on.

Maddie also had the honour of naming TK and Carlos' daughter and gave me the best name which allowed me to put in a line I didn't think I'd get to use, which made me all the more grateful. Remember to tip and feed your neighbourhood fic writers: it really does help us give you more of the sweet, sweet fic joy you like so much.

Anyway, have just shy of 2k words of something that is pure joy, fluff, and our boys being happy husbands and fathers. Minor warnings for references to TK’s addiction, and he misses his mom, but that doesn’t stop him from being so in love and so happy and having everything he deserves.

----

Once upon a time TK didn't let himself dream of being happy, of being loved, of being a husband or a father.

Now he's all of those things.

----

He never imagined this. Not even in his wildest dreams, those quiet moments where he dared to hope. It was always the hope that hurt the most, those dark nights and darker days between highs and hits. The moments where he fleetingly wondered but what if? and let the seed germinate the tiniest of roots before he pulled it out.

Maybe I will be happy. Pull it out.

Maybe someone might love me. Pull it out.

I'd like to be a husband one day. Stamp down that idea and put up warning signs. That one was dangerous.

One day I'd like to be a— Don't even finish that thought. Scorch the earth, because how could he be? Why would he want to be anyway?

Then all was forgotten in the next deal, the hazy and colourful dreams on dirty mattresses, the parade of guys who never stuck around long enough to even see the places where those dangerous ideas might be planted.

Then his mom hauled him out of the den and onto a plane and he began to dare to think about what those seeds might look like if he let them take root for a little longer.

He tried again, planted new seeds, let the roots take hold but they still didn't survive. In a fit of anger and self-destructiveness he tore them up, let the frost settle over it. Which, if he were holding to this metaphor of seeds-as-dreams, meant that the frost was never going to last in the Texas heat. It may have thawed but what could he cultivate here?

And even when he took the chance, when he watched the first signs of spring bloom into something real and strong and lasting and come back after a frost (literal, metaphorical, who knew at this point?) he started to believe that he could plant these moments, these dreams and desires, and he could maybe, possibly, hopefully have the things he wanted.

Even then, it never looked like this.

Keep reading

#writing jen is writing #tarlos fic #tarlos #tk strand #carlos reyes #911 lone star #911ls #otp: hey baby

[vivalabunbun]

Hello Viva!!

I am the same anon who had shared about my married life being similar to the plot for "As I am, I will be"! I've loved that work with my entire heart for months as each and every single line struck a resonance with me! I don't know if you'd recall me ranting about how broken my relationship was at first because it was an arranged marriage TvT

Seeing the continuation for it being posted, I couldn't help but feel overjoyed! Even to say, I logged off from work to read it!! . Your writing was up to the finest mark anyone could make it out there! I love the descriptions and details you make, even the tiniest references you've thoroughly researched before makes me feel truly immersed in the story, as if I am witnessing this unfold before me.

Despite what had happened once, I'm glad to see the two share such sweet moments without any strain or doubts :) A happy marriage is when you no longer doubt one another and only wish to lead a silent, tranquil and peaceful life with one another. No third parties, relatives or anyone involved in it, just the two of you in your own comfortable space, may it be in each other's arms or the under the same roof on the same bed.

The morning grocery scenes, the afternoon napping scenes and even the rain part, all of them struck me with a sense of nostalgia as if you had known my entire life plot! I kept giggling as I read it (fluff makes me giggle) and my husband had to really check on me LOL

To see Alhaitham laze around and even convince Y/n, who was known to be responsible to laze around with him was such a sweet moment and personally that '30% chance to rain' hit real hard! It's ok Alhaitham, sometimes things never go the way you want it to, especially with weather.

Lastly, thank you for creating this masterpiece. It made me reflect on my entire life time filled with grief, pain and all that sweet moments i've had. I am glad to see Y/n and Alhaitham get closer in their nerd language! Thank you so much, peace out!

Stay hydrated, take care of yourself and make sure you're well rested !!

With lots of love,

a strange married anon

Oh! Hello again!! 🥹🥹

I'm excited to see you in my inbox! The soulmate au is really one that made me ponder about love the most. I just really really love it when readers share their inner monologues as they read my works.

There's no better feeling than the contentment of just doing nothing with someone you care about in a private little microcosm 🌌

For his birthday and Valentine's day, it just felt right to give him a sweet and tender moment. Especially after the heavier works.

Maybe in some way, when I was reading up on theories and factoids as I was writing, this short(er) fic was a sensible way to provide a happy ending for universes where one wasn't possible.

#vivaramblings

[frischkasekuchen]

Greenhouse (Yandere!Vanya x Reader)

Credits:

Vanya - @/thriftlita

Iosif - @/lordofsteel

Content Warnings:

Teacher/Student Relationship

Kidnapping/Hostage

Swearing

Suggestive References

Mean Bisexual

(Author's note: This was originally going to be a full-length sequel to the first piece. Unfortunately, I pushed myself too hard and now the creativity well has run dry. I decided I'd rather give you guys something of quality rather than a rushed cesspit. I encourage readers who want to see this story continue to write/draw their own ideas for Y/N's fate and Vanya's loss or triumph. I'm sorry I can't give you guys anything longer or more thrilling, but senior year is going to be a bitch, and I need to be well rested if I'm going to graduate. Thank you for being so patient with me. Happy Pride Month and happy birthday @shu-dzhoker )

Satan Trismegistus subtly rocks our ravished spirits on his wicked bed until the precious metal of our will is leached out by this cunning alchemist. -To The Reader (Au Lectre) by Charles Baudelaire (transl. Richard Howard)

February XX, 20XX - Post Break

Three months and there's feeling in your leg again.

You peel off your cast and risk moving it up and down in a kicking motion. It hasn't snapped off. You pump your fists in the air with a silent "wooo!". 

You jump out of bed and pace around your room. Thank the gods, or, whomever's watching. It was humiliating for Vanya to scrub you down like a child. The man mistook your expressions of discomfort as insecurity, and made an effort to compliment your..."assets''. Sometimes, you wished you could drown yourself in the bath.

You don't notice Vanya barge in as you're aimlessly pacing with your newly recovered leg. 

"What are you doing out of bed-?"

You freeze and Vanya processes that you're standing on your own two feet. And the discarded cast at your bedside. 

"It's healed? You should have at least let me look it over." The man crowds you, bending over to lift up the skirt of your nightgown to see your leg.

You hurriedly smack his hand away. "It's fine- it works- nothing to see here!"

He huffs at your bashfulness. "Hmph! You behave as though I haven't seen more than your leg-"

You tip-toe to clap your hands on his lips, "SHUSH!" This man is going to make your blood vessels pop!

"Fine, fine. Will stop my teasing." he takes your hand, "Come along now. We can actually have breakfast at the table together."

***

Breakfast is mildly normal. 

The strawberry crepes taste great and the table gives you and Vanya a little distance between each other. On another note, you feel the tiniest bit of concern for the safety of your legs. Medy is helping herself to a bowl of  broth and a mix of animal fats. But she's also glaring daggers at you. You're thinking she holds a grudge now, which doesn't bode well for another escape attempt.

Vanya finishes his food before you, and excuses himself from the table to prepare for work. You can't believe how envious you feel that he can actually go to uni while you're stuck here. 

As he's leaving, he discards the house keys on the dining table along with a scrap of paper. What? Should you call attention to that or-?

"You're allowed free reign of my property. Even outside."

You look up at him in shock. You can just leave? The man smiles at your confusion, adjusting a tie on his dress shirt. "Except what's beyond the fence. And I expect you to respect my privacy, no?"

You nod.

"Good." Vanya picks up his briefcase and kisses your cheek. He's getting more comfortable with you, you realize. "I'll be back no later than eight, okay? Lock the door behind me."

Behind you, locks unlatch and there's some clicking noises. The door swings open and it shuts. You get up from your seat and take your dishes to the sink. Through the kitchen window, you see Vanya leave. Once his car is out of sight, you turn to Medy. 

You chuckle, "And then there were two."

***

You do as you're told and lock the door behind him. From the inside, there's four. A knob, a latch, another sliding lock and a padlock. They click and squeal as you basically lock your own birdcage. Hmph, being in captivity is making you disgustingly poetic. Medy's still giving you a hateful look, but she seems uninterested in stalking you around the house. She trots over to the living room, to take a nap you guess. At least this gives you time to snoop. 

With a Grinch-like sneer on your face, you slither down the hallway to Vanya's room. You gleefully push the unlocked bedroom door open, and poke your head inside. Does he really have nothing to hide? There's a bed, dresser, mirror and nightstand with a lamp on top of it. You look back down the hallway to see if you have incurred the beast's wrath. She isn't charging down the hallway- that's a development. You stick a foot through the doorway...nothing. Maybe, there isn't anything to hide. You put your whole body in the room; investigation time!

(C'mon (Y/N), take this kidnapping predicament a little more seriously!)

You look in the first cliche place: under the bed! You stick a hand in the darkness, and your knuckles brush metal. Finding the corner of the item, you bring it out into the light.

A silver and black trunk that's kind of flat like a briefcase. You inspect the latch and it appears to not have a proper lock. In your brainless curiosity, you open it without a shred of hesitation, and gaze upon its contents. There's a riding crop, handcuffs, gloves, silk black rope, a series of much shorter pieces of fabric-

...

...

Regret.

So many regrets.

As your eyes cross over the silicone apparel, you slam the trunk shut and shove it under the bed.

***

In the kitchen, you find something interesting in the cabinets. 

Prescription bottles galore, along with some regular pharmacy drugs. You pick out a prescription labeled with DO NOT DRIVE OR MANAGE MACHINERY AFTER DOSE, MAY CAUSE DIZZINESS OR NAUSEA. It’s not a pill bottle, but a bottle of liquid. You twist off the cap to see a tinfoil seal with a small puncture hole. The back of the bottle reads Recommended dose: 2.5 milliliters.  Beside it is a container labeled Diazepam, a name you only recognize from older novels.  

So, Vanya always had a plan B prepared; this whole thing was premeditated. You need to start a journal or something for the coppers.

***

Your last venture is outside. You slip into the boots you came here in, and take a step off the porch. Snow crunches underneath your feet, open air caresses your face. You spin around, allowing the wind to whip your face with winter. You’re surprised that you didn’t get congested with how long you were bedridden for (to be fair, Vanya did clean your room on a weekly basis).

You check behind yourself to see Medy sitting near the door, observing you. Well, let’s see how far you can exercise your freedom before your warden goes beserk. You stick your nose up in the air faux-arrogantly, gazing at the sky as you strut forward blindly.

At some point, the she-bear does come running, and you quickly take five steps back. You look down to see the beast growling, then look to the line in the sand(or, snow). A picket fence seems to dictate your stomping grounds, at least when Vanya’s at the university (lucky bastard). 

An insistent bark from Medy snaps you back to reality.

“I get it, I get it! I’m going back inside.”

At least the professor didn’t assign you any chores, that at least gave you the excuse to laze off with a book. 

***

When Vanya comes back home, only the sound of the door opening announces his arrival. Shuffling, thuds; it appears the man is in a hurry. You try to ignore him and immerse yourself in your book, but you can’t help but jump when he starts slamming the fucking doors without pause.

Things get worse when the old man barges into your room, slick with sweat despite the winter air. You leap in your bed and shut the paperback around your thumb. “C-could you at least knock?!”

He scans the room like a goddamn security camera. Then, he charges up to you, forcing you to shrink into the corner behind you. “Whoa-whoa- WHAT DID I EVEN DO?!”

Vanya clamps his hands on your face and shoves you to the wall. He's clearly trying to feign stoicism, but with the pressure- you can tell he’s trying to make you crack. But for what? The worst you’ve done is snoop through his shit- you put the keys back when you were done. Was he upset that you went outside?

When he sees that he’s not getting the reaction he wanted out of you, he backs off. Warmth returns to his pupils and he makes himself comfortable at the edge of your bed.

You let yourself breathe. “Could you just- I dunno- not fucking do that again?”

“My apologies, but no promises.”, yeah that’s definitely reassuring. “May I ask that you be less invasive while I’m gone? If you wanted to see my bedroom, you could have asked.”

You turn away from him.“Bold claim; I haven’t touched your room.”

The man chuckles, “Bold of you to have left my trunk unlatched.”

You freeze up. Oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck.

“I wanted that to be surprise for when we- what’s the saying? ‘Hit third base’?” a grin grows on his face when your cheeks tint pink. “I had to do proper research and shopping after I discovered where your more…sensual desires lied based on your literary tastes.” The devil has the gall lean to your ear and whisper, “No need to be so shy, no need to rush either.” A warm hand strokes the thigh of your recovered leg. “Just ask, and I’ll indulge you, my dear.”

He finally backs off and leaves the bed with a satisfied smirk on his face. “Dinner will be ready in thirty; okay?” Vanya exits the scene with a skip in his step and a melody under his breath.

You look down at your discarded novel.

…

You throw it at the door.

***

On Saturday morning, Vanya doesn’t visit your room. It’s become routine that he’d wake you for breakfast at eight. But when you look over to the small clock on your nightstand (a gift), it was half past eight. That’s suspicious; that’s weird. And as the blatant horror-thriller protagonist- you must investigate. 

On the corner before the kitchen doorway, you hear Vanya…speaking with someone! He let someone else in the house? While he has a hostage…? Wait a second-

You crane your neck uncomfortably to eavesdrop. Unfortunately, you can’t understand them. Fast and fluent Russian is all you can hear, but you can’t translate by ear. But by leaning forward, you can see a folder and papers spread amok on the dining table. There’s your passport mugshot, and a “MISSING!” poster as well. People are looking for you, good to know!

In your attempt to see more, you lean much too far and stumble through the doorway. “Shit-!”

Both men stop talking to look at you. You freeze, as though they’re T-Rexes who won’t see you if you’re still. Vanya immediately shoves all the papers into the loose folder, and the stranger removes them from your sight. 

“Good…morning..” you squeak in fear.

Despite Vanya’s panic, the stranger calmly returns your pleasantries. “Good morning.” Their voice is rough and- familiar.

Vanya relaxes at the other’s casual behavior. “Good morning, (Y/N), this is one of my sons, Iosif.”

SON(oh yeah, Vanya has kids)?! Are you a parent now? Does Vanya consider you his spouse now? Should you treat him like he’s your kid too? Wait, what’s his name again-?!

“Iosif, this is (Y/N), my beloved; you remember them from December right?”

December? Why would he-? NO-

You point an accusing finger at Iosif. “YOU- you-” you pause when you see Vanya giving you this look. You pin your lips into a line before you throw out another expletive. But you’re nosy enough to keep talking, “Those papers are kinda, really, interesting.” You boldly approach the table and hold out a demanding hand, “Can I see?”

The old man huffs, and gets up from his chair. The air suddenly thickens with an intimidating aura when Vanya places two heavy hands on your shoulders. He leans down and whispers, “What happens outside is no longer your concern, so behave yourself, alright?”

You look to Iosif, as to not make eye contact with Vanya. He glances at you, with an emotion you’ve only ever seen in bystanders at middle school. He seems to regard you with a mix of resignation and pity. 

***

That afternoon, Vanya is content to forget that this morning ever happened. He lugs a phonograph into the living room and pushes the small table and couch aside. 

“What’s that for?” you ask as you twiddle your fingers in your lap.

“Music.” he states in a matter-of-factly tone. “Want to test how good your leg is after you broke it.”

“This will help me, how? Like, what about a physical therapist?”

His movements stiffen for a moment, before he changes the subject. “(Y/N), do you dance?”

“No. And if this is what the music’s for, no thank you.” you tuck your legs in, then stuff you face into one of the throw pillows.

Vanya sighs and sits down beside you, placing a hand on your back. “Why not?”

“I’ll make a fool of myself.” you murmur. You weren’t going to give this asshole another reason to look down on you! 

“Oh, my dear,” he nuzzles into the back of your neck, “You have been a fool long before I met you; nothing to be ashamed of now.”

Ouch. 

You stuff your face further into the cushion. “If that was supposed to make me feel better: it didn’t.”

He chuckles and wraps his arms around you to drag you off of the couch. Your feet clumsily meet the carpet, and you stumble as he pulls you back. “Since you’re a fool I will guide you, keep you safe from harm.” 

“What does that make you?” you query.

“Good question. Back in my younger days, many fancied me a prince.”

You make an audible “pfft” noise. “Aren’t witches more prone to kidnapping?”

Vanya turns you around to face him, and guides one of your hands to his shoulder. The smile on his face appears strained as he kicks the phonograph to life. Static soon bleeds into an introduction by a group of violas. The man clutches you close, a gentle but firm grip on your waist. His large fingers slotting into yours perfectly. With how close the both of you are, you have to lift your head so as to not get squished in his chest (even though you’re tempted to just let it happen-). 

He’s looking down at you in a manner you can only describe as lovesick. You feel a little nauseous yourself- a little tinge of satisfaction. It felt nice to be desirable in the eyes of the old prince, that someone wanted- no needed you around.

…You really need someone to talk to, internal soliloquy is not good for your twenty-first century health-

You’re torn out of your thoughts as Vanya begins swaying to the music. You nearly trip over yourself as your body registers Vanya’s speedy footwork. Somehow, you manage to catch up with him despite being inexperienced. 

“Too fast?” he asks, leaning down to your height.

“Oh no- you just caught me off guard. I’m not much of a waltz-er person…or a dancer, in general…” you spare a glance down at your feet.

“You dance well for a beginner- that posture could use some work though…” he teases.

You shake your head in confusion. “What posture-whoa-”

Vanya twirls you, one, two, three times, before pulling you into a dip. One of your hands shoots up to claw at his collar and you gasp.

Vanya quickly pulls you up, pressing an apologetic kiss into your hair. “No fear, no fear little bird. I’ve got you.” Your face flushes in humiliation at his coddling (this just proves your point!). “Have more faith in me.” You give a shameful nod, and allow him to guide you back into the melody.

The next time he’s ready to dip you, he squeezes your waist as a warning. This time, you loosen your grip on his shoulder. Pinching his sleeve at most. Twirl, twirl, twirl- dip.

As the man leans you down, you slacken and throw your head back in a theatrical manner. The pressure on your waist reminds you that there’s someone to catch you. Your eyes flutter close, blissfully submitting yourself to the rhythm and your partner. 

The music swells- then stops. Vanya pulls you back up once more, and you sag into his (soft and warm) chest. 

“Mmh? Something wrong?”

“Nah. You make a nice pillow.”

He pets your head as white noise fills the room.

The prince is gentle, doting, and hopelessly devoted to you.

You’re getting too comfortable.

#tw kidnapping #dreamtalia chapter zero #my writing #tw swearing #tw suggestive

[shir0ch4ns-art]

TW// MISCARRIAGE

I know that this isn't what I usually post or even have on this blog but like I feel like I'm gonna scream or break down if I just don't put this down on some form of like "physical" words.

This got really long and does kinda goes through the emotions felt so I suggest not clicking the read more if you're not in a good space to read this

As the trigger warning suggests, I just had a miscarriage. The same fucking day I did a pregnancy test. It was simultaneously the best and worst day of my life. I had started off kinda scared and nervous but it also just confirmed my suspicions for the past few weeks since I missed my period. I then just felt so happy, like I was on cloud 9 the whole morning. I went to work I called my mom I was on the phone until I had to officially open the store (I was on opening shift so I'm there half an hour early to prepare) I was just so happy. Then I noticed some spotting and then some more spotting and finally I caught the tiniest bit of red and I fucking left. I told my lead what was happening, and they were just shoving me out the door. I left work 2 hours early and then spent literally the whole day at the Urgent Care just to get a fucking "we don't know". I was a bit mad then but I have since realized that I had detected my pregnancy super early and most people don't even realize they're pregnant until way later on, I'm just super observant of my monthly because it's a bit irregular. And with that it would be extremely hard to tell what was happening. They put me on bed rest for 2 days and to go back the second day. I was bleeding so much between then that I just knew I had miscarried but I was deluding myself into thinking that I was wrong that maybe it was something else, something that can be fixed or maybe I was freaking out over nothing. Only to go in and do some blood work that I got the result back from before the UC doctor did and just...blue screened. I knew, I waited in that waiting room with my husband and mom for the confirmation but I knew. And just like that it was gone.

I'm devastated and angry because logically I know there's no reason, logically I know this just happens sometimes, logically I know it was nothing I did or didn't do...but emotionally I wanna know why, why did this happen, how did this happen so quickly, seriously what the fuck happened. I'm mad because I didn't even get a chance to see what kind of person it would have been, I didn't get a chance to see this potential person grow up, I didn't even get a chance to at least hold them. And I'm just gonna mention it right now that I am vehemently pro-choice and I don't want my use of referring to what wasn't even an embryo at the stage I lost my pregnancy as a potential person to be used for pro-life rhetoric. I don't make this threat casually or at all but I will fucking block and flag you if you do. I'm referring to it as a potential person because I actually wanted this pregnancy not because it was even a life at the point of miscarriage, if I hadn't done a pregnancy test I would have thought it was just a really late really bad period. But I did, and I knew, and that's what's making it so hard to fully come to terms with. It wasn't entirely planned but it was wanted and that hurts.

I'm doing better now, I have a really good support web of friends and family that have helped me through these past few days. My husband being the most supportive one and being my rock throughout this. I'm not even sure why I'm making this post but if anyone else in my position sees this and find some kind of comfort that they're not alone in this and that yes their feelings of despair and anger are valid and that just having someone else experience the same makes them feel less alone then I'll leave this up. I might delete this later or I might forget but if it helps then I'll purposely leave it up.

I nicknamed it capsicum since it made me crave spicy foods like no tomorrow.

#tw miscarriage #miscarriage #shiro blogs #im sorry for this very depressing post but i just have some very Big Feelings and they need out #if anybody needs the hotline for support i can edit in the number i found on the planned parenthood website #might delete later #i am doing better though i have already talked my feeling out and rationalized what happened but im just very tired #need a few days to recharge my social battery to face the public again without crying