#( don’t get on her bad side or she’ll throw you )

[serpentandlily]

Lost in a Labyrinth - Azriel x Reader

Lost in a Labyrinth Part II - Azriel x Reader

Summary: Lonely and heartbroken after his near kiss with Elain, Azriel finds himself at the door to the most exclusive pleasure house in Hewn City, The Labyrinth, taking Rhysand’s cruel advice. What he expected to find was a pretty girl to warm a bed with him for a single night. But instead he finds something he never thought existed—his mate. A mate that is tangled up in something far more sinister than he could ever imagine. 

Warnings: smut (minors dni), reader is a prostitute, uncomfortable situations (nothing extreme)

a/n: thanks for all the love on the first part! Hope y'all like this one just as much!

➻❥ Part I

───  ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅  ───

Part II

───  ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅  ───

“You look well rested.”

Cashmere winked at you from her seat in front of her vanity. She was brushing out her long hair, getting ready for the evening. You let out a sigh and plopped down at your own vanity in the dressing room. 

“I am,” you replied. “Someone bought out all my nights this month but no one’s shown up. It’s…strange, don’t you think?”

Cashmere shrugged, going back to looking at her reflection in the mirror. “Seems to me like you’ve got yourself a secret admirer.”

You began putting on your makeup for the night, not that you’d have any clients. But you were still expected to be in the Courtyard for a bit. “Secret, maybe, but they're definitely not an admirer. If they were, why wouldn’t they come get what they paid for?”

“Some of these Lords just throw their money around to impress us. I wouldn’t think too much about it, Serenity,” Cashmere said. You fought the urge to cringe at the fake name. “Consider it a vacation of sorts.” 

“Until Lydia finds out,” you snorted. “Then she’ll probably double book me.” 

“Just rub some kohl under your eyes,” Cashmere suggested. “Make it look like you’re still having sleepless nights like the rest of us.” 

“Not a bad idea.”

More girls walked in and you fell silent. Telling Cashmere about your current situation was one thing. You trusted her as a friend. But some of the other girls would likely pass on the information to Lydia and that’s the last thing you wanted. 

You finished your makeup before shrugging on a new lingerie set with a dark pink silk robe over it. You followed the girls to the Courtyard, ready to perform your nightly duties so you could retire back to your room for another peaceful night alone thanks to your mysterious donor. 

───  ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅  ───

Your vacation was short lived because the next day, Keir showed up and requested sixteen specific girls, your name included, for a party that was being hosted in Hewn City with some elite nobles. Even the High Lord and Lady would be present apparently. Not that you’d be allowed to approach them. Every time you worked these kinds of events, all the girls were given strict instructions on how to dress, what to wear, and what Lords to entertain. 

A dress was waiting for you in the dressing room. It was a long black dress that fell to the floor with two slits on the side to show off your legs. It was backless with a few thin straps that criss crossed on your lower back. Sitting beneath it was a pair of silver heels and on your vanity sat a matching silver jewelry set. 

You had to forgo your bra for the dress, likely the reason it was chosen. You did a sultry smokey eye and dark red lip for your makeup before you pinned your hair into a pretty updo to show off the back of the dress. 

By the time you were finished getting ready, the other girls were too. It wasn’t long before you were being led into the throne room. During parties like this, only the elite and those invited had access to this room in the castle. 

The ebony floors were polished, the carved pillars spanning so high you could hardly see where they connected to the ceiling. Various nobles mingled together, sitting on settees, smoking cigars, with glasses of wine and whiskey in their hands. 

The High Lord and Lady sat on their thrones on top of the dais at the front of the expansive room, dressed finely in all black with their crowns on their heads. Standing next to the High Lord was the General, the big, brutish Illyrian. Next to the High Lady stood the Shadowsinger, his eyes scanning the room. You’d seen the Shadowsinger plenty of times during the occasional trips your High Lord and Lady made to Hewn City. But that night he had walked through your doors in The Labyrinth, you had been taken aback by how beautiful he was. 

Memories of your night with him flashed through your head and you tried to fight off the blush and heat that started coursing through your body. Azriel had been a generous lover. Far more generous than your other clients, that’s for sure. He had actually cared about your pleasure. Not to mention he was the hottest male to walk through your doors.

It was a pity that he had disappeared so quickly and never returned.

“Alright, girls, you know what to do,” Lydia hissed at the group of you. “Do not embarrass me. Anyone who steps out of line will receive a new mark.” 

That was the last thing you wanted to do. You looked down at your hand, at the small tattoo on the inside of your ring finger. You only had two more marks left. Two marks and then freedom would be yours. 

You started mingling with the various Lords, pretending to eagerly listen to them brag about the most mundane things like their latest hunt or new investments. Servants meandered around, filling wine and whiskey glasses. 

When you were younger, you had accepted them like most of the other girls. Having a little alcohol in you always made the night easier. But you were going to steer clear of it—not wanting to jeopardize your progress with Lord Keir and Lydia. 

You started making your way towards the front of the room. You had to steer clear of the High Lord and Lady but the wealthier and more important males always sat near the front. And if you caught the attention of someone Keir wanted gone, that would be just an extra bonus to the money you’d be making off them. 

You were used to eyes trailing after you everywhere you went, but something else was tugging on your senses, making you feel not like you were being ogled at like always but watched. 

Your eyes darted around until they landed on a familiar pair of hazel ones. Azriel hadn’t moved a single step from his post but his eyes were on you. Your steps faltered for a second, taken aback by how intense his stare was. 

Was he scared that you would out him? Address him in front of his High Lord? He should know that you couldn’t. The same way he couldn’t mention anything that took place in the Labyrinth. 

Your name being called shook you from your thoughts. 

Your attention was pulled to a handsome male with long, white hair that matched his equally pale skin. Lord Thanatos’s golden eyes were running up and down your body as he sat sprawled in an armchair like it was the High Lord’s throne. He beckoned you to him with two fingers. 

Your heart dropped to your stomach as you had no other choice but to go to him. He was your least favorite client but he had a weird obsession with you. It was rare for him to choose any other girl in The Labyrinth besides you. You gave him a seductive smile, slipping into your role for the night. “How may I help you, my Lord?”

You let out a small gasp as he latched onto your wrist and pulled you onto his lap. The Lords around him all snickered. He brushed your hair to one side before whispering in your ear, “You’re going to be helping me a lot tonight, sweetheart.” 

Your insides shriveled up. Lord Thanatos was your least favorite client because of how rough he was with you. But he paid a lot of money so Lydia and the guards often looked the other way, only sending a healer into your room once he left. 

“I’m looking forward to it, my Lord,” you purred, resting a hand on his chest. You weren’t, of course. Not even because of the pain he’d inflict on you but more so because Lord Thanatos was Keir’s secondhand man and closest confidant. Which meant those two lines tattooed on your finger would still be there when you woke up tomorrow morning. 

Lord Thanatos went back to chatting with the various nobles seated on the couches and settees around him. If it wasn’t for his wandering hands on your body, you would’ve thought he was ignoring you. His hardening cock that was pressing into your backside had you shifting as much as you could to his thigh. You glanced around the room only to find Azriel’s eyes still on you. His fists were clenched, his face frozen with a hint of anger. Anger and something else that seemed suspiciously like longing. 

You shifted again in Lord Thanatos’s lap for an entirely different reason now. 

Cashmere happened to be walking by when Lord Thanatos grabbed onto her wrist and yanked her down to sit on his other thigh, forcing the two of you to share the small space. 

She giggled. “Two of us? Don’t tell me you’re getting greedy, my Lord.” 

You exchanged a small look with her. It didn’t happen often but sometimes clients wanted to take two girls at once. You preferred when you were chosen along with Cashmere, because you two were close friends which made it less awkward. 

“I think Serenity wants someone to play with,” he smirked, his thumb brushing the underside of your breast. “Isn’t that right, sweetheart?” 

“Anything for you, my Lord,” you smiled. “You know how much I love to please you.” 

He leaned back in his chair and tossed his arms behind his head like he commanded the room. “Go on then. Kiss.” 

You glanced at Cashmere who gave you a dip of the head so you reached forward and hooked some of her ginger hair behind her pointed ear before kissing her lightly. She tasted like cherry wine. You pulled back after a second and for some reason, your eyes caught Azriel’s. He was closer now, leaning on a pillar, wreathed in shadows—watching. He twirled his dagger in his hand with ease. 

“Oh come on, Serenity. Don’t play coy,” Thanatos laughed. “I know that mouth can do better than that.” 

Cashmere grabbed your face lightly, her eyes shining with a look that urged you on. You kissed her properly this time, caressing her face. This time the two of you gave the Lord what he wanted. But you could feel Azriel’s overwhelming stare still on you. 

It wasn’t until your lips were swollen and you were panting that you finally let up. You could feel your lipstick smeared all over and wiped it with your hand. 

“Oh, she’s made such a mess of me, my Lord,” you pouted. “Will you excuse me so I can fix myself up?”

“Sure, sweetheart,” he said, pulling Cashmere closer to him. “But don’t keep us waiting.” 

“Of course,” you said with a nod, rising from his lap. 

When you glanced at the pillar Azriel had been leaning on, he was still staring. It was a bit unnerving. You let out a shaky breath and quickly hurried out of the throne room and into one of the bathing chambers down the corridor. You rested your hands on the edge of the sink, staring down at the basin. You just needed a breather. Just a second to collect yourself. 

Not a moment later, you felt a prickling sensation on your skin and the hairs on the back of your neck rose. Your head shot up and you left out a gasp as your eyes met a pair of hazel ones in your reflection. 

Azriel stood behind you, his shadows swarming him. 

You whirled around, backing into the sink. 

“What are you doing here!” 

Azriel took a step forward, out of the darkness. 

“You shouldn’t be here,” he stated in a low voice that had goosebumps rising on your skin. 

You crossed your arms, staring up at him entirely confused both by his appearance in the bathroom of all places and his remark. “Shouldn’t be where? In the bathroom?”

“No,” he growled, stepping closer. “You shouldn’t be here, at this party.”

“What do you mean? You know what I am. We were hired—” You cut yourself off as you had a realization. “It was you, wasn’t it? The one who booked up all my nights?” 

Azriel said nothing, gave no reaction other than his large wings twitching. You swallowed thickly and turned back around, away from his daunting stare, finding it easier to stare at him through the reflection on the mirror. You summoned your small clutch with some magic before pulling out your tube of lipstick. 

“Look, Azriel,” you began, starting to apply your lipstick. “You’re not the first male to feel ashamed after sleeping with me. If you’re doing this to absolve yourself from whatever guilt you have, consider it forgiven.”

Azriel stepped closer, his face darkening. “I’m afraid you’ve misunderstood my actions. I do not feel ashamed because I slept with you, angel. I’m ashamed that I made you sleep with me.” 

You shoved your lipstick back in your purse, turning around to face him. “You didn’t make me do anything. I knew what this job entailed when I signed up for it, okay?”

“But is it…is it what you want?” 

You shrugged your shoulders. “I can’t say it’s been a dream of mine. But it's a hell of a lot better than being sold off to some male and having all my freedoms taken away.”

Azriel ran a hand through his dark hair, tousling it. “Those shouldn’t be your only two choices.”

“Well, take that up with our High Lord, Azriel, I don’t know what to tell you,” you sighed. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, my client is waiting—”

You went to brush past Azriel to the door but he grabbed your wrist to stop you.

“Don’t,” he breathed, “Don’t go. I know you don’t want to be with him. I could see it in your eyes.”

“I don’t have a choice, Azriel,” you snapped, trying to pull your wrist free. “So let me go.” 

“Sounds like you’ve already had all your freedoms taken away,” he bit back, his grip unrelenting. 

“You know nothing,” you argued. “If this is the one thing I have to sacrifice to keep all my other ones, then so be it. Besides, I’m almost—”

You cut yourself off, cursing in your head at your slip-up. No one could know about the deals the girls at The Labyrinth had with Keir. If word got out because of you…

“Almost what? What were you going to say?”

Azriel’s eyes were pleading with you, like he was hanging off every word that came out of your mouth. You let out a shaky breath and shook your head. “Nothing. Nothing, forget it. Now, please let me go. You’re going to get me in trouble with Lydia.” 

You tried to leave again but Azriel pulled you back. “I can’t stand to see you look so miserable with him. Please, let me help you. I paid for you tonight; I’ll go tell Lydia that I’m taking you back to the—”

“She won’t care. She’s just going to give you your money back,” you cut in. “Lord Thanatos pays a lot of money to have me. More than whatever you gave her.” 

“Then I’ll pay twice as much as him,” Azriel stressed. “Or whatever I have to in order to make sure he doesn’t end up in your bed tonight.” 

“I take my orders from Lydia. What she says goes.” 

“Fine, give me five minutes,” Azriel said with heavy resolve. “Just avoid him for now and I’ll sort it out.” 

You looked at him closely. “Why do you care?” 

“Don’t…don’t ask me that,” Azriel murmured before he disappeared in a whirl of shadows, leaving you stunned and confused. 

You left the bathroom finally, making your way back to the throne room. Your mind was screaming at you to go back to Lord Thanatos before you got in major trouble, but something else in you wanted to listen to Azriel. You had no idea why. You grabbed a champagne flute off a tray from a server and made yourself look busy near a pillar that concealed you from Lord Thanatos’s view. 

Five minutes passed and you were beginning to lose faith in Azriel, resigning yourself to the night with Thanatos when he stepped out of the shadows behind you. You let out a gasp of fright, spilling your full glass of champagne. Azriel grabbed the empty glass from your hand and set it on a table before taking your hand in his and guiding you away from the pillar. 

“I sorted it out,” he whispered under his breath to you. “But Lydia seemed…suspicious of my interest in you.”

“What do you mean?” You hissed back.

“She’s wary of you being a spy for the High Lord,” Azriel answered, quickly. 

You held back a laugh at that. “Then I guess we’ll have to make her think you’re interested in me for…other reasons.”

Azriel stopped and pulled you close to him, leaning down to whisper in your ear, “Don’t get me wrong, angel. I am interested in you for all those other reasons, too.” 

A chill skittered down your spine and you looked up at him with a coy smile. “Good, that’ll make this easier than.” 

“Make what easier?”

“The show we’re going to put on for her,” you whispered.

Azriel’s cheeks turned a bit pink and you just knew you were going to have fun with him. 

───  ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅  ───

Azriel found an armchair next to some empty couches in clearsight of Lydia and sat down, spreading his legs apart in invitation and patting his thigh. His face was unreadable as you sat in his lap, tossing an arm around his neck and throwing your legs over his thigh, leaving them to dangle. He placed an arm around your waist, his hand lying flat on your stomach, and pulled you closer to him. 

Azriel leaned in, whispering, “I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.” 

“You won’t,” you replied, honestly. 

His eyes searched yours for a second before he nodded. You placed a hand on his chest, running your fingers over his leathers. “Aren’t these a little constricting?” 

His throat bobbed as he swallowed harshly. “I’m used to them.” 

You hummed, your eyes darting towards Lydia to see her watching the two of you. “Well, I much prefer you out of them, shadowsinger.” 

Your words had their desired effect. Azriel’s chest rumbled with a quiet growl, his hand caressing your waist. You giggled, pressing a few kisses to his jaw. His scent of cedar and night-chilled mist seemed to envelope you. He gripped your dress in his fist, his entire body tense. 

“Tell me something about yourself,” he whispered, lowly. “Anything.” 

“What do you want to know?” 

Azriel nudged his head into the crook of your neck, inhaling deeply. His breath ghosted over your skin, causing goosebumps to spread. “Something real.”

You were never very forthcoming with your clients, always keeping your personal details secret and making up stories and lies to feed their curiosity. But something made you not want to lie to Azriel. 

“My name is Y/n,” you started, shifting closer to him so no one else could overhear anything said. His hand that was on your waist slipped to the exposed skin on your back, his fingers lazily trailing up and down. “I was born to a low-ranking noble and his bitch of a wife, my mother. I was going to be sold off like cattle to some Lord who had already gone through three wives—you can guess what happened to them—but my friend, the one you saw me with earlier, helped me escape.” 

Azriel’s grip on you tightened, pulling you flush against his hard chest. You melted into the heat of his body, the thin dress you had on did nothing to keep you warm. The hand that was on your back slipped to your thigh, parting your skirt so he could touch your smooth skin. Your heart jumped in your chest.

“Tell me their names,” Azriel growled into your ear. “Tell me their names and consider them gone.” 

You laughed, darkly, twisting your arm around his neck to stroke the hairs at his nape. “No need for that. They’ve been…taken care of.” 

Azriel’s other hand drifted up to your throat, grasping it lightly and tilting your head back so he could pepper his own kisses along your jaw and neck. Your breath hitched and you found yourself grinding down on him, gasping as you felt his hardening cock. Suddenly, none of this was pretend. Had it even been pretend in the first place? No…no, it hadn’t. You had been burning and burning for him since the night he had stepped into your room. 

“I’m sorry—” 

You turned to look at him and kissed him firmly before he could finish his sentence. He groaned as your lips met his and you pulled away entirely too soon, lingering only centimeters away. 

“I’m not,” you purred.

Whatever resolve Azriel seemed to have, whatever dignity of yours he was trying to preserve, all of it was forgotten in the moment. He lurched forward and kissed you again, his hand on your throat angling your head to his liking—the rings on his fingers were cold against your heated skin. You moaned at the feeling of his soft lips, at the taste of him. 

His tongue swiped your bottom lip and you gave into the subtle request, parting your lips for him and deepening the kiss. The hand that had been rubbing circles on your thigh slipped dangerously close to the place between your legs that seemed to be begging for him. You’d never been so turned on in your life. The thrill of knowing eyes were on you and the feeling of Azriel consuming you caused your brain to numb all thoughts. 

His hand on your throat slipped down your side, his knuckles running along the side of your breast. You arched into his touch with a mewl and he answered with a small huff, his wings twitching. Meanwhile his tongue was still exploring every inch of your mouth, claiming you in a way that had you throbbing in his lap. 

Azriel pulled away, leaving you panting for air as he began to trail kisses down your jaw and neck again. His wandering hand landed flat against your stomach, pushing you farther into him until you were flush against his body, your legs falling open to either side of his thigh. Your half-opened eyes darted around the room. 

It seems Lydia had lost interest in the two of you but another set of eyes were on you. 

“The High Lord’s watching,” you murmured as he tugged on your earlobe with his teeth. 

“I don’t care,” Azriel growled, his mouth moving to nibble on the delicate skin of your throat.

“He’s not going to get mad that you're allowing yourself to be seen with Hewn City scum?” 

“Fuck him,” he snarled, biting down on your skin and causing you to gasp. He soothed the mark with his tongue before kissing his way up to your mouth again. “Stop talking about another male while you're sitting in my lap.” 

“Yes, sir,” you smirked before he kissed you again, his hips thrusting up into your backside. You groaned, your core rubbing against his thigh with his movement and causing a strike of lightning to flash through your body. The need for him was overwhelming. You’d never felt this way towards anyone. 

His hand drifted higher on your thigh, until his thumb traced the inner junction between your thigh and hip and felt the wetness that had started to spread there. A small whine came from the back of his throat that had butterflies fluttering in the pit of your stomach. You pulled away from his kiss to stare up at him with lust filled eyes, his own full of hunger and craving. 

“Azriel?”

“Yes, angel?” 

“Get us out of here.” 

Azriel didn’t need to be told twice. His shadows engulfed the two of you and transported you to your room in The Labyrinth. You were on your knees before him not even a second later, overcome with the need to taste him, to touch him, to devour him whole. You pulled at the laces on his pants, your fingers working quickly. Azriel’s hand slipped into your hair, fisting your locks in between his fingers. 

“Angel, you don’t have to—”

“Azriel,” you cut him off, staring up at him with hazy eyes. “Shut the fuck up.” 

Before he could reply, you yanked his pants down causing his large member to spring up, already hard and leaking. You nearly groaned at the sight. He was so big, so big and thick. You leaned forward and pressed a kiss against the head of his cock and he hissed, his fists tightening in your hair. 

You stared up at him as you took his cock in your hand and licked up his entire length. He let out a loud moan, tossing his head back at the pleasure. You smiled at the sight, your other hand sliding down your body between your legs, hoping to relieve some of the throbbing.

But Azriel growled and yanked your head back.

“Don’t you dare touch yourself,” Azriel commanded. “Only I get to touch you there.” 

If it had been any other male saying those words, you would’ve laughed in their face. But it coming out of Azriel’s mouth only made your throbbing intensify. You whined, but listened, grasping his cock with both hands and finally taking him in your mouth. 

“Fuck,” Azriel hissed, guiding your movement with his hand in your hair. “Fuck, your mouth feels so good.” 

Your thighs rubbed together at his praise and you continued to bob your head back and forth, swirling your tongue under his cock and running it along his veins. His hips began to thrust in time with your movement, his hand guiding you to take more and more of him in your mouth until he was fucking your face. 

“You’re taking me so well,” he moaned, thrusting into your mouth. “Good girl.” 

You choked, tears beginning to slide down your cheeks. Normally you would hate a client treating you like this but with Azriel it felt different. Maybe because his rough taking of you was coupled with small words of praise and encouragement, urging you on.

“Just like that,” he groaned. “Fuck, angel, you look so pretty with your lips around my cock.” 

You whimpered, taking more of him until his cock was hitting the back of your throat. Your hands jerked the part of him you couldn’t take because of his unbelievable size. His groans and growls kept you going, kept the fire between your thighs burning. You needed him more than you needed air. 

Azriel yanked you away from his cock by your hair and you whined at the loss of contact. He pulled you up off the floor, his eyes nearly black with lust. “Take off your dress,” he ordered. 

You maintained eye contact with him as you quickly stripped yourself before him. The air around the two of you was intense, the need for one another so tangible. In this moment, you weren’t Serenity, the prostitute who worked here. But Y/n. The girl underneath the mask. 

“Get on the bed,” he demanded. “On your knees.” 

You scurried to the bed, doing as he asked. You were entirely exposed to him in this position, your arousal dripping down your leg. You could hear him taking off the rest of his leathers and waiting in anticipation until his hands fell on your hips, rubbing them softly. 

“Gods, you are so beautiful,” he murmured, one hand trailing up your back and gently moving your hair to one side so he could see your face. His cock rubbed against your folds, gathering your wetness. “Fuck and so ready for me.” 

“Azriel, please,” you begged. You could feel yourself gripping around nothing, needing to be filled by him and him only. 

“One day, I’m going to worship your entire body,” he grunted. “But I need you, angel. I need you right now.” 

“Please,” you begged again. “Take me. I’m yours.” 

Azriel slammed into you so quickly, it knocked the breath from your lungs. You moaned at the feel of him, at being stretched so thoroughly. He waited a moment, his breathing labored, allowing you to adjust before he slid back out and roughly thrust back in. 

“Say it again,” he growled, taking a brutal pace, slamming into you over and over again. 

You whimpered, “I’m yours.” 

“Again,” he snarled, his pounding into you causing the whole bed to shake. 

Your eyes rolled to the back of your head at the intense pleasure. Your whole body was tingling at his touch, at his words. “I’m yours, Azriel. I’m yours.” 

One hand stayed on your hip to help keep you in place while the other slithered up your back and into your hair, fisting it again. He pulled your head back, exposing your neck as he drilled into you. Your back arched as you cried out at the feeling. You had already been so turned on, your orgasm was quickly building. 

“More,” you groaned. “More, Azriel, please.”

He growled and yanked you up by your hair, pulling your body flush against his. The new angle felt deeper, his cock brutally hitting you in that sweet spot that had you seeing stars. His hand traveled from your waist to your breasts, squeezing and caressing them. Your head fell back against his shoulder as your body arched into his touch. 

He released your hair to rub circles on your clit, leaving you both breathless and screaming. 

Your body was entirely his in this moment. He controlled every ounce of your pleasure, every cry that came from your lips. You had never reveled in giving yourself up like this before. Not until Azriel came. 

“Azriel…I’m gonna….I’m gonna,” you panted, the lewd noise of skin smacking together the only other sound in the room.  

“Be a good girl and cum for me angel,” he whispered, huskily, in your ear. 

His words pushed you over the edge and your orgasm slammed into you. Your entire body clenched around him as waves and waves of pleasure crested through you. Your vision went white hot with it. Azriel’s name fell from your lips like a Devil’s prayer. 

“Fuck,” he hissed, fucking you through your orgasm. Until you finally came down from your high, your body slumping in his hold. He let you fall to the soft bed, your face smashing against the cushions as he held you up by your hips. His rhythm became desperate, feral until he finally came, burying himself in you with a loud growl. 

You were both still panting as he slid out of you with a hiss and fell to the bed next to you. He wrapped an arm around your waist and pulled your body on top of his, letting his wings stretch out. You laid a cheek on his chest, feeling safe as he wrapped both arms around you. 

“Don’t leave this time,” you whispered. 

Azriel kissed the top of your head. “I won’t.”

───  ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅  ───

Three days later, you were sitting in Lydia’s office, your nightgown covered in blood, a numb look on your face. Keir was standing before you, leaning against her desk with his arms crossed as he sneered down at you. 

The burning on your ring finger was lingering, one of the tally marks gone. 

“Lydia tells me that the shadowsinger has taken a special interest in you,” Keir said, stroking his jaw. Your eyes remained distant, staring past him to the wall. 

The blood was still warm on your skin and you knew the body lying in your bed hadn’t even stiffened. You knew better than to talk during these meetings, allowing Keir and Lydia to converse with each other while you sat there. 

“Show me your hand,” Keir ordered. 

You lifted your arm, holding it outstretched to him. He took it, twisting it to see your ring finger.

“She only has one mark left, my Lord,” Lydia added from behind her desk. 

“I see that,” Keir said, letting your hand drop. “Your last target is the shadowsinger. Kill him and you will have completed our bargain and will be free to go.” 

Your heart dropped into your stomach, your eyes going wide as you finally looked at the male standing above you. “W-what?” 

“You heard me, girl,” he snarled. “Kill the shadowsinger and you’re free to go.”

Kill the shadowsinger and you’ll be free to go. Kill the shadowsinger and you’ll be free to go. Kill the shadowsinger and you’ll be free to go. Kill the shadowsinger and you’ll be free to go. 

Keir’s words played in your head over and over again as you made your way to the bathing chambers to finally wash the blood of your latest target off you. 

Kill Azriel and you’d finally be free to leave this place. Finally free to take all the money you’d been saving up and leave this damned court to build a new life for yourself. The dream you’d had all along. Kill Azriel and your dream of being free would finally come true. 

Kill Azriel.   

Kill Azriel or…don’t and end up stuck here, lost in The Labyrinth forever. 

───  ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅  ───

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[athenamikaelson]

Klaus Mikaelson x Reader!Soulmate x Elijah Mikaelson PART 7

Word Count- 5.3k

Warnings- Swearing, stabbing, Elijah wanting to hold hands, witch trials

A/N- KLAUS NEXT CHAPTER BABIES!!!

“I don’t understand why you grown men keep dragging me into your shit,” I groan to Alaric as he parks his car. I cling to my seatbelt and regret ever answering my phone this morning. I really just have to throw my phone away at this point. 

“I don’t trust him around Jenna, Y/n. I have a bad feeling about the guy,” Ric says as he undoes his seatbelt and begins to exit the car. 

“That or are you just jealous?”

I raise an eyebrow and purse my lips at him and he leans down to stare at me with an annoyed look.

“Get out of the car Y/N.”

I watch as Ric makes his way from his side of the car to mine, but just as he’s about to open my door I press down the lock from the inside. I smirk at him as he tries to open the door but it doesn’t budge. He stares down at me annoyed and then presses his key fob unlocking the car. He tries to open the door but I mimic my actions from before and lock the car again. We continue doing this for another 2 minutes before Ric gets the better of me and throws open my door. 

“Seriously, Y/n!”

I huff and practically crawl out of the car. 

“For the record, I would rather jump in front of a train than be here,” I say matter-of-factly to Ric as we catch sight of Jenna and Elijah walking up a grass path together.

“For the record,” Ric waves at them and then turns his head towards me, “I don’t care.”

Once again I groan as we make our way towards Jenna and Elijah. I lock eyes with the latter and he sends me a warm smile. I don’t reciprocate and quickly turn my eyes towards Jenna. I can still feel Elijah’s eyes on me, as always, as we stand in front of Jenna and him.  

“Uh, Elijah, this is my friend,” Jenna, who seems to be annoyed, introduces Alaric to Elijah, “Alaric Saltzman. And you’ve already met Y/N,” Jenna turns to me and seems much more happy to see me.

Ric who can’t seem to catch a clue speaks, “Ya, I got your, uh, message about walking Elijah here through the old property lines. I thought I, uh we,” He gestures to me, “would, uh, tag along. You know us being history buffs and all. Where to next?”

An awkward silence follows for a moment before Elijah breaks it, “I’m pretty curious about the freed slave property owners. Some say, you know, the descendants of the slaves are the true keepers of American history.”

I am almost one hundred percent sure Mr. Suit and Tie has an ulterior motive but Jenna doesn’t seem to catch it as she tells him she has the stuff in her car and that she’ll go grab it. I watch as she walks away and then turn back to the two men next to me. Elijah stands about a foot's width away from me while Ric is to my right. Ric must’ve noticed Elijah’s staring as he moved himself in front of me. If you didn’t want me to be around Elijah why bring me here? Dumbass. 

I can still see Elijah from over Ric’s shoulder and the movement Ric made doesn’t seem to sit well with Elijah as a small twitch in his upper lip presents into a snarl. He drops back into a neutral look almost instantly. 

“So you’re one of those people on Elena’s list of loved ones to protect,” Elijah says to Ric. Even though Elijah is relatively shorter than Ric the aura Elijah protrudes makes up for it. Anyone could tell that even though Ric is trying to put up a macho front, he’s afraid of Elijah. 

“So is Jenna.”

Elijah smirks at Alaric and then shakes his head slightly, “You don’t have to be jealous. I don’t really pursue younger women,” Elijah’s eyes trail to mine momentarily, “Most of the time.”

Elijah turns back to Ric and they stare at each other for a moment before Elijah pats Ric on the shoulder, “It’s a joke, Ric, lighten up.” 

Ric rolls his eyes and nods. 

“Wait,” I speak and turn to Elijah, “Technically isn’t every woman younger than you? You know, since you’re like old. Really old. ”

Ric just brings a hand up to massage the tension between his eyebrows and sighs deeply, but Elijah lets out a small chuckle that sends shocks down my spine. 

“I guess you’re right Y/N. I am really old,” He mimics my tone with a small smile on his face. 

—

35 minutes. We’ve been walking in this dirty ass forest for 35 minutes. I should be in bed asleep right now. But nope, here I am following behind three adults as they talk about history. It’s not that I don’t like history, I do, it’s just that it’s a Saturday. I shouldn’t be learning things on a weekend. 

I half-heartedly listen to what Jenna is telling Elijah as we cross over a bunch of fallen tree logs. Alaric helps Jenna over one, and I don’t miss the dirty look she looks she shoots him, making me try to cover my giggle with my hand. The giggling instantly stops though when I see Elijah standing by the front of the log with his hand outstretched towards me. We haven’t talked in these 35 minutes since Jenna has been occupying him, but that hasn’t stopped him from turning back every few moments to catch a glimpse of me, as if he thinks I’m just going to disappear into thin air. Honestly, I wish I would.

I’m not going to use Elijah’s help but realize that my clumsy ass would probably fall over the log if I didn’t. So I lightly place my hand into his, which results in him closing his hand over mine. Locking our hands together. Our hands are locked for a long moment before Ric clears his throat from the other side of the log. I quickly look away from Elijah and use his hand to get over the log carefully. I soon as I get over it though I wrench my hand away from his and walk over to Jenna who sends me a warm smile. 

“Seems like someone is fond of you,” She whispers to me as she raises his eyebrows suggestively.

I can already feel the redness making its way onto my cheeks as I stare at her horrified. Jenna just laughs at my face as she starts leading us farther down the trail we’re on. Sadly though, Alaric has occupied Jenna, which leaves Elijah to walk next to me. 

Elijah’s quiet for a moment, seemingly just enjoying my company before he starts speaking, “Is it true what Alaric says,” I turn to him confused, “That you’re a history buff?”

I sigh slightly as I shrug my shoulders realizing that just talking to the guy might make this little trip go by a little faster.

“I wouldn't call myself a buff,” I use my fingers to make air quotes, “but it’s also not something I dislike. Learning about how our world was made and all the small factors of why it was made are quite intriguing. I also like weird history.”

“Weird history,” Elijah questions me with a frown.

“You know, like the unexplained, or the odd things in history that many don’t understand,” At the still confused look on his face I continue, “You know like the dancing plague of 1518, D.B Cooper, or Oh! The lost colony of Roanoke. That’s probably my most favorite.”

Once I realized that I had just gone on a tangent I went to apologize to Elijah but when I look at him all I can see on his face is pure adoration. The type of adoration that makes the beating in my chest stops. He smiles at me and from being so close to him I notice the small dimple on his left cheek. 

“I understand now,” Elijah says, “You seem to be most interested in The Roanoke Colony. Why is that?”

I ponder his question for a moment, “I’m not sure, it’s just something I’ve always been drawn to. Maybe because of how mysterious and odd it is. I’m not sure, I know that some people say it was aliens or cannibalism but there isn’t a known answer. It’s amazing to me that so many people, an entire village, can go missing and there are no clues. Other than the word Croatoan!”

Elijah nods his head along but the look in his eyes and the smirk on his face tells me he’s hiding something. Wait. Holy shit.

I whip around to him stopping us, “You know, don’t you! I mean you’re old enough but I didn’t even think you would…,” I stop and stare at him in awe for a moment, “You have to tell me.”

Elijah opens his mouth but then I shake my head and throw a hand up to his mouth stopping him, “Wait! No, what if you tell me and it ends up disappointing me.”

I go through all the possibilities in my head at what he could tell me and then fight myself on whether I should have him tell me or not. I can feel Elijah’s smile behind my hand and bring my hand back.

“Sorry,” I wince embarrassed. 

“No worries, I enjoy seeing you so full of life,” I blush at his words, “Would you like me to tell you?”

I think about Elijah’s question for a moment and then shake my head, “No. I think the reason I love that moment in history so much is because of the mystery behind it. I don’t want to lose interest in it by knowing.”

Elijah seems pleased with my answer and nods, “Very well.”

We continue walking for another moment before Elijah chimes up again, “What else interests you?”

I shrug my shoulders, “Nothing much, I’m not a very interesting person.”

“I highly doubt that.”

I smile slightly at his comment, “Well I like reading. That’s actually something Elena and I have bonded on. I used to get bullied for being a book nerd but now having someone who likes it too is comforting.”

At this mention of Elena, Elijah’s smile drops slightly but then turns into a small frown. 

“I’m sorry that you were bullied for reading, as a literature connoisseur myself I find it quite depressing how reading has become something so rare in these past decades. What types of books do you read?”

I nod along to Elijah’s words until he asks what books I read. At this, I instantly get red and look anywhere other than him.

“You know,” I try to find a socially acceptable answer. Not really wanting to tell this 1,000-year-old man I spend my free time reading smut, “Literature.”

“Literature?”

Elijah looks at me with a smirk on his handsome features and I just nod and clear my throat, “Yep, literature. Just all the literature.”

“What about you? What literature do you like?”

Elijah laughs slightly at my change in subject, “Literature in general as well,” I roll my eyes at his joke, “But also I appreciate all types, Historical, the classics, thriller, even romance.”

“You read romance,” I ask surprised. 

He nods his head, “On occasion. There’s something so unique about how different authors portray love and devotion. Where some show it as a neverending, intense emotion others show it as one’s demise.” 

“And which do you believe?”

This question has Elijah pausing momentarily, thinking, “I’ve lived a long time, Elskan. Seen people start wars in the name of love, and seen people kill and die in its name aswell. To choose just one thought when it comes to the idea of love is something I can not do. What about you, what are your thoughts on love?”

“I want nothing to do with it.”

Elijah goes quiet for a moment at my answer. I face back forward and we keep walking in silence for another moment.

“I understand your reluctance towards it. But still young why cut off something like love at your age?”

I fight the urge to roll my eyes at his words. My age has nothing to do with my hatred and distaste for love. 

“Don’t tell me all that romance you read is getting to your head, Elijah,” I say to him slightly snarky.

“I’ve struck a nerve,” Elijah says as he nods his head. 

“Nope. No nerves struck here,” I tell him picking up my speed and walking away from him. He doesn’t have to try hard to meet my speed though as he falls back into step with me. 

“Even though there have been no nerves struck,” He tries to lighten the tension with a joke, “I must apologize for overstepping. As I’ve said before, making you uncomfortable is the last thing I’d ever want to do.”

I move my gaze from Jenna’s back, who is currently in a small argument with Alaric, and turn to look at Elijah. Once again his face has no signs of malice or ill intent.

“It’s fine,” I shrug at him, “Like I said no struck nerves.”

Elijah slightly laughs and then nods his head. We walk for another 5 minutes in silence, Elijah helps me over logs and rocks whenever we come up to one. 

“Y/N and I should be heading back now,” Alaric tells the group as we get to a clearing. 

I nod, happy to be getting out of these woods.

“Well, thank you Y/N for coming today, I’m sure you had more exciting things to do today,” Jenna smiles at me and jokes.

“Just sleeping. But it was nice to see you Jenna,” I reluctantly look over to Elijah who hasn’t left my side, “You as well.”

This has Elijah’s deflated shoulders rising again. He almost reminds me of a dog that is happy someone is finally giving it an ounce of attention. 

“It was a pleasure to be able to spend this morning with you, Y/N,” I’ve noticed that Elijah calls me by my actual name when other people are around. But, when it is just him and I, he uses that stupid nickname. 

I nod as I go to follow Alaric back to the car but stop and turn back to Elijah, “I guess I’m not one-hundred percent against love,” This perks Elijah up, “I mean I totally loved the dress I wore to the tea party.”

Elijah lets out a deep chuckle that rattles his broad shoulders, “You weren’t the only one.”

I almost choke on my saliva at his words. Elijah’s smirk deepens and I put my lips together and nod my head fast.

“Well, um. I’ll be going now,” I don’t give Elijah time to respond as I speed walk past him and Jenna and grab Ric’s forearm pulling him roughly behind me.

“Keep up,” I whisper yell at him as we speed walk our way to the car. 

—

The original plan was that Ric and I would go on that stupid history walk and then after 30 minutes he would bring me back to my house, but of course, no one in this god-forsaken town follows any type of deal. So that’s why I am currently sitting in front of Demon and his “girlfriend,” and next to Ric who are talking about Elijah and how they don’t trust him. Thankfully Damon bought me fries so this whole trip hasn’t been an entire waste. I half-ass listen to their conversation but don’t really care so I don’t process a word they’re saying, at least not until Damon perks up.

I’ve come to learn from my time in knowing Demon that if I see him getting excited about something, someone is going to get hurt. 

So that’s why I follow his line of sight and see Elijah and Jenna walk into the Grill together.

“Ah, there Jenna with her new boyfriend,” Damon says. I know he’s just trying to get a reaction out of Ric but something about that sentence makes my skin crawl. 

Damon calls over both of them. Jenna welcomes all of us with a smile and wave while Elijah trails behind her looking complacent. As always his eyes find mine and his complacent smile lightens. 

“So I hear you two had a meeting of the historical minds today,” Damon speaks to the two.

“Yeah, I guess you could say that,” Jenna smiles looking up at Elijah who is now looking down at Demon. 

“Well, as much as I’d love to continue this, I, uh, I’ve got papers to grade and a teenager to get home,” Ric gets up from his seat and he gestures to me. I frown as I see my fries still half full and quickly grab a fist full and fill my mouth trying to get away with as many as possible, almost choking myself in the meantime. The adults around me watch me with a mix of amusement and slight disgust, but I don't care. I’m not wasting free food. 

“No, you know what,” Alex or Stephanie or whatever Demon’s girlfriend is named, chirps up, “We should continue this. Let’s have a dinner party!”

Hell to the no. 

“Ooh, my girl. Full of good ideas,” Damon looks over to her before turning back to us, “I’ll be happy to host. Say tonight. Maybe?”

“It’s good for me. Jenna,” Where Alessia agrees Ric tries to disagree. 

“Yeah, I’m free,” Jenna talks over Ric. Yikes. 

“Will the lovely Y/N be there,” Elijah asks me and I try to tell him, “Hell no,” but the fries in my mouth have left me mute.

“Of course, she’ll be there,” Damon exclaims as if there isn’t any other place I’d rather be. I send him a nasty glare which earns me a wink in return. 

“Then it’d be a pleasure.”

Damon’s smile is all but welcoming as he responds to Elijah, “Great.”

This is going to be a horrible night. 

—

This is a horrible night. 

First I get a nasty grade on my modern art project. Not my fault, since modern art is a crime against humanity. 

Then, I try to find a dress for this stupid dinner and the only half-decent dress that I have now is two inches too short.

And then after I said screw it, put the dress on and finished getting ready. I went down to my car only to find out that my front tire had gone flat. Honestly in this case I was happy about it because I had a reason to cancel, but when I called Jenna and told her the “upsetting” news, she told me she’d come pick me up. Great. 

So now I’ve been sitting on my front porch waiting for Jenna. After waiting for fifteen minutes I was close to just calling it quits and telling Jenna the fries from earlier made me throw up on myself. But, right when I stand up a dark sedan pulls into my driveway. Wait. I know that sedan. Damnit. Why the hell is Elijah here?

As if he could read my thoughts Elijah pretty much glides out of his car looking practically god-like in yet another five-thousand-dollar suit and smiles at me. 

“Good evening, Elskan,” Elijah walks up the walkway to stand before me, “Miss. Sommers so kindly asked me if I could escort you to the dinner tonight. To which I happily obliged.”

“Right,” I sigh, “Let’s just get this night over with.”

I walk to Elijah’s car as he follows me, just like before he opens the door for me. I send him an appreciative nod and get in. After another moment we’re driving down the dark road towards the boarding house. 

“You look breathtaking, Elskan,” Elijah says to me from his position in the driver’s seat. 

“Thanks,” I turn to him and look at his usual attire, “You look the same.”

He chuckles, “Yes, you always seem to remind me of my attire. Thank you for that.”

“Always here to help.”

We drive in comfortable silence for the entirety of the trip until we get to the Salvatore’s driveway.

“How are you feeling about tonight,” Elijah’s tone is flat but as he looks at me his eyes are filled with what I believe to be suspicion.

“You mean, do I think something bad is going to happen?”

Elijah’s upper lip twitches, “Aren’t you a smart one? But yes, I am not going to threaten you Elskan. I would never do that, but,” At that, I’m tensing in my seat, “I need to know if your friends are planning something, unbecoming, tonight.”

At Elijah’s serious tone, I shake my head, “I don’t know anything. Promise,” Elijah doesn’t seem to be entirely pleased with my answer, and something in me wants to fix that, “But, I do know that Damon is not one to have friendly dinner parties so,” I look at him uneased but speak in a strong voice, “Be on your guard tonight.”

“Thank you for your honesty, Elskan.”

— 

Elijah and I stand side by side as he knocks on the front door. We wait only a moment before a smirking Demon opens it up,

“Thank you both for coming,” Damon says a little too nicely, “Y/N don’t you look adorable. Come on in!”

Elijah places his hand on my lower back, “Just one moment. Can I just say that if you have less than honorable intentions about how this evening is going to proceed, I suggest you reconsider.”

“No, nothing, nothing dishonorable. Just, uh, getting to know you.”

“Hmm, well, that’s good.”

“Yeah,” I watch this back and forth waiting for something bad to happen. 

“Because, you know, although Elena and I have this deal if you so much as make a move to cross me I’ll kill you and I’ll kill everyone in this house,” And there it is, “Except Y/N and Miss. Sommers of course. Are we clear?” 

“Crystal,” Damon eyes Elijah wearily. And then Elijah leads me into the house as Jenna enters the room.

“Jenna, wonderful to see you again. How are you?”

“I’m seriously getting whiplash from you man,” I whisper so only Elijah will hear. The only response I get is a slight squeeze to my waist as he pulls me closer and away from everyone else who has entered the room to greet us. His right-hand stays resting on my upper hip. 

“Let’s eat.”

—

“I hate to break it to you, Damon,” Jenna says to Damon as she pours him a glass of wine, “But according to Elijah your family is so not a founder of this town.” 

“Hmm, do tell,” Damon responds. Damon sits at the head of the table sipping his wine as he stares at Elijah, who is currently sitting next to me on my right. Alaric sits to my left and Jenna and Abby sit across from us. I should really learn her name. There’s also this balding white man who is sitting across from Damon at the other end of the table but no one here seems to want him here.

“Well, as I mentioned to Jenna earlier a faction of settlers migrated from Salem after the witch trial in the 1690s. Over the next hundred years, they developed this community where they could feel safe from persecution.”

“Hmm, because they were witches,” Jenna chimes in.

“Yeah, there’s no tangible proof there were witches in Salem.”

“Andies a journalist. Big on facts,” Oh, so that’s her name. I liked Andrea more.

“Well,” Elijah sets down his fork and starts talking again, “the lore says that there was this wave of anti-witch hysteria. It broke out in the neighboring settlement. So these witches were rounded up. They were tied to stakes in a field together and, uh, burned,” Elijah says as if it’s something anyone wants to hear while they’re eating steak dinner, “Some say you could hear the screams from miles around us. They were consumed by the fire. Could you pass the,” He gestures to the salt and Ric passes it to him wearily. 

“I wouldn’t repeat this to the Historical Society,” Jenna says which has me wanting to roll my eyes at the mention of those bags.

“Maybe you should,” I say to myself but have seemed to catch the attention of the table. Shit.

“I’m just saying it would knock them down a peg, which is clearly needed,” I whisper out the last part, “Even though there is no proof of witches being burned at the stake during the trials. It was mostly done from self-drownings and using rocks.”

At my contradiction to Elijah’s statement he raises an eyebrow, “Is that so?”

“Self-drowning and rocks? How would that work,” Jenna questions with a slight stutter clearly having had a little too much wine.

“Well with the drowning it was more of a test,” I use fingerquotes at the word, “So to speak. The witch in question would be tossed into a body of water and if she was able to stay afloat she was condemned as a witch and was killed. But if she didn’t float, well. Y’know. So I mean either way it was just a way to punish women for being women. They used the rocks though to stone the people to death. Interestingly enough one of my ancestors was actually killed that way. R.I.P.”

I laugh at my little joke at the end which has earned me a few stares from the people at the table.

“Ok, moving past whatever that was,” Damon says as he turns back to Elijah, “So why do you want to know the location of these alleged massacres?”

Elijah thinks for a moment before smiling, “You know… a healthy historian’s curiosity, of course.”

“Of course,” Damon replies to Elijah who has already gone back to taking a bite out of his steak. I bring my glass of water to my lips and take a sip but start choking on it when I feel a hand gently grab my other one from under the table. 

“Y/N! Are you ok,” Jenna exclaims from her side of the table as Ric pats me on the back, I put up a thumbs up and try to smile.

“Yep all good. Just,” I cough out a bit more, “went down the wrong pipe. Don’t mind me.”

Even though I almost choked, Elijah still hasn’t moved his hand from mine. Instead, his fingers have begun tracing shapes into my skin. I know I should feel disgusted, but I can’t seem to want to move his hand away. He looks at me momentarily as if to check I’m ok. To which I send him a small nod. This in return makes him smile and grab a hold of my hand more firmly now.

Damon's standing distracts me momentarily, “Does anyone care for some cognac? I have a bottle I’ve been saving for ages.”

God, me, please.

“None for me, thanks. Nine bottles of wine is my limit,” Alaric says as he downs yet another glass of wine. Jesus dude, try water sometime. 

This has everyone standing from the table. Ok then, guess I’m done eating. 

“The gentleman should take their drinks in the study,” Anna says. 

“How 1950s of you Alice,” I smile at her sarcastically.

“My name is Andie,” She says back.

“Is that not what I said,” I smile at her as I walk past her into the study. I don’t even want to go in here with them but I’m doing it to stand on principle. And that I’m kind of an asshole. But that’s not my fault since I was awoken this morning before I was able to get my full 13 hours of shut eye.

—

My fingers graze the dozens of books I walk by as Damon and Elijah converse behind me. It surprises me that Damon has so many books, when he’s so dumb. Weird. 

“Are these Stefan’s?”

Damon spares me a moment's glance, “No, they’re mine.”

I hum. Weird. Maybe he just doesn’t have comprehension skills.

“So, let me guess, in the addition to the moonstone, the doppelganger, the lion, the witch, and the wardrobe… You need to find this witch burial ground.”

“Because I feel as though we’ve grown so close, Damon,” Elijah’s words have me chuckling as I flip through a book that seems to be at least one hundred years old, “I’ll tell you yes. Do you know where it is?”

“Maybe,” Damon’s answer has Elijah walking over to him, “Tell me why it’s so important.”

“We’re not that close.”

Damon getting rejected has me snorting which catches Elijah’s attention as he smiles up to me. He notices the book I have in my hands and speaks again to Damon.

“It’s quite a collection you have here. It is a funny thing about books. Before they existed people actually had memories.”

I go to make a snarky comment at Elijah’s words but Ric comes storming into the study. 

“Gentlemen,” I clear my throat and Ric looks at me, “And Y/N. We forgot about dessert.”

Addison comes over to Elijah and raises a hand for him to take, which has a nasty feeling starting in my gut. But before it goes too far Elijah turns to me instead and reaches out his own hand, “Y/N.”

I have to fight back a snort as we walk by Amelia Bedelia as Elijah leads me into the dining room where Jenna is.  

“Sorry, guys, dessert is taking longer than I thought,” Jenna’s words have me physically deflating, “I usually just unwrap food.”

Elijah leads me to a chair and moves it so I can sit down. He sits next to me and Audrey sits across from us. 

“So, I know this is a social thing but I, I would really love to ask you some more questions about the work that you’re doing here,” She asks Elijah who agrees. I’m quite interested in what he’s going to say since he��s created this big lie surrounding, Elijah Smith.

“Great,” She continues as Damon enters the room, “Oh, that’s so great. Ric, would you do me a favor and grab the notebook out of my bag?”

She instructs Ric as Elijah’s hand finds its way back to my hand.

“Elijah, did John tell you that he’s Elena’s uncle/father?’’

Damon’s question has me sitting up right.

“Huh?!”

I look between Damon and the balding man next to me and wonder how he was able to produce a girl as pretty as Elena. Also now I’m pissed and kind of sad no one has told me this before.

“Yes, I’m well aware of that,” Even Elijah knows?!

“Of course, she hates him, so there’s absolutely no need to keep him on the endangered species list.”

Now I don’t feel bad for thinking he looked like Charlie Brown earlier. 

Adeline says something to Ric but now my full focus is on Elijah's fingers which are now grazing up and down my hand that lays on my thigh.

I can hear Dead Beat saying something to Elijah but the words won’t focus as I try to calm my breathing. Elijah’s deep voice enters my ears as I hear him threatening the two men but the soft touching hasn’t gone away. 

I’m almost comforted by the feeling now until the once soothing feeling is replaced by his hand crushing my thigh. My yells are mixed with what I’ve just now realized are Elijah’s as he crunches up in pain. A loud scream escapes my lips as I see a dagger protruding from Elijah’s back and can only watch in horror and pain as Elijah’s once soft and light skin turns to grey and veining flesh. 

I blink rapidly as everyone moves around me but all I can focus on is Elijah’s dead body. Dead. Elijah’s dead. Oh god. 

I feel someone grab my upper arm and drag me out of my seat, “What’s wrong with you?”

My breathing halts. My vision goes black and, my body hits the floor. 

[brackishkittie]

ex-factor, abby anderson

— toxic!abby anderson x black!reader

synopsis: toxic abby headcanons because I’m having a really bad abby brainrot rn. 😵‍💫😵‍💫 ( I’ll probably make a full fic abt this later. )

c/n: very very nasty hate(?) sex, choking, slapping, strap riding, degradation, overstimulation, mirror sex, abby cussin you out, hair pulling, clit slapping. ( it’s alot I know..) she’s horrible tbh.

a/n: THIS SHIT TOOK SO FUCKING LONGGGG. I’ve been working on this shit for like maybe 6 months because I’ve been putting it off for so long but it was worth it…😞🙏🏾 (edit:) this was supposed to come out in 2023. ( INCONSISTENT ASS !!! )

daily click | ways to help palestine | important tlou post

idea inspo: @beetlejuice-e ofc I gotta give my creds n inspo!! pls check out niyah’s works especially her toxic abby series!!

✮ ˚ — toxic!abby who will surely text yo ass off a burner account on insta and if you don’t answer that? girl no caller id will definitely be callin you and cussin you out.

“who the fuck do you think you’re blocking?” her voice rings out on the other side of the screen. “abigail don’t play on my phone please..” you sigh loudly due to how sick of her bullshit you were. “oh I’m playin on it. unblock me.” she replies swiftly. “girl you not about to irritate me on MY phone. bye.” and you hang up. abby won’t back down though. she’ll be RELENTLESSSSS over that unblock. she’ll even post ts on her story talkin bout “unblock me.” ( obviously you’ll unblock her..but she annoyin asl!! )

✮ ˚ — toxic!abby who’ll be mad at you for posting you and your friend together. even if she has met said friend or knows them in general. she don’t gaf. she’ll slide up on the story with a “who’s that?” and you be like “that’s so and so” and then here go abby ass.. “why she so fucking close?? tell her move a bit.”

✮ ˚ — toxic!abby who comes to your house mad as hell because you didn’t pickup the phone after you two got into an argument. she’ll bang on your door and she won’t go away until you let her in. when you do let her in though, she’s cussing you out and you two get back to arguing. she’s all in your face and yelling at you for not answering and acting “bitchy”. you manage to push her away from you and walk into your room, but all she does is follow you into your room while still angrily screaming at you. “where the fuck are you going?” abby is absolutely livid and staring you down. “I’m trying to get away from you, abigail.” you respond with an obvious hint of annoyance. abby who doesn’t say a word and pushes you onto the wall, leaving barely any space between you two. “who the fuck are you talking to, y/n?.”

✮ ˚ — toxic!abby who loves it everytime you get surprised when she takes the initiative of grabbing you by your face and pushing her tongue deep into your mouth. her hands groping and smacking your ass. abby throws you onto the bed, already taking off her black t-shirt and signaling for you to take off your clothes. you knew the drill. it was a never ending cycle and you fell for it everytime. abby lifts your legs onto her shoulders and smiles as soon as her eyes fell onto your pretty pussy. “fucking slut. I barely did anything yet.” she said as you felt her fingers brush your clit. “I want you to keep your eyes on me. if you look away, you won’t be able to cum.” you nod and watch her slip two fingers into your wet cunt, watching her tongue putting in work. she sloppily eats you out like she’s been dreaming of it.

you shut your eyes and abby almost instantly slapped your clit, making your eyes fly open. “I said to keep your fucking eyes on me..” her nails dug deeper into your soft skin, she’s eating you out with such aggression and knowing that turned you on even more. you gripped her hair and bucked your hips. you felt yourself reaching your high and your eyes rolled back as your mouth fell open. “holy shittttt!— abby please..” you continued watching her tongue work in and out of you, her thumb rubbing at your sensitive clit, and her eyes shooting up at you making sure you were watching her like she told you to. you thought maybe she was just gonna go easy on you tonight because it was a small fight, right? “face down. ass up.” she said as she glared at you.

✮ ˚ — toxic!abby who loves seeing you take her strap, her eyes almost glued to the mirror as your ass bounced off her. abby fucking the anger out of you so well that you nearly forgot why you were so mad at her. abby taps your face lightly when she sees you basically go blank for a second. “don’t pass out on me now baby. you had all that fuckin mouth for me earlier.” she stuffs two fingers into your mouth and you finally find the energy to let out some form of words. “too fucking muchhh! fuck..!” your mouth agape when you feel abby fucking into you deeper. “so fuckin nasty..” she grins and reaches for your hair, pulling and tugging at it while picking up her pace as she drilled the strap into you. you were too fucked out to even speak at this point. your head was spinning, your thoughts were scrambled, and your heart was racing. abby pulled her fingers out of your mouth and looked at you in the mirror, “look at me in the mirror, pretty. are you ready to apologize?” abby tilted her head. she knew everything was her fault but for her to apologize for it? hell no. “fuck you abigail.” you responded quickly as she miserably pounded into you. her grin was completely wiped off her face in an instant once you said that.

✮ ˚ — toxic!abby who found amusement in you riding her strap. your body clearly tired and about to give out but all she does is plant kisses on your tits and grope them, sucking and licking your tender nipples. “abby please..I’m sorry! no more! I can’t- take it.” you’re losing it at this point. you’ve reached a new point of ‘fucked out’ and abby was gonna use that shit to her advantage. “say it again.” abby stared at you intently — she knew exactly how to make you forget about everything and that was through the movement of her hips. “I love you a lot baby, you gotta stop making me mad..” she purred at you with a subtle smirk on her face. “oh my god.” you pant out, wrapping your arms around her neck and pulling yourself closer to her. you place your chin onto her shoulder and continue to roll your hips, bouncing on her strap needily. you can sense yourself reaching your high once again as you dug your nails into her skin. she snakes her hand around your waist and whispers to you softly, “deep breaths baby, let it out. cmon.” abby coos as she talks you through through your orgasm, rubbing your back ever so gently.

✮ ˚ — toxic!abby whose way of aftercare was to clean you two up, cuddle you, and maybe..subtly gaslight you into believing that you’re the reason she acts the way that she does. she’s treating you as if you were delicate almost like a small bubble. abby knew that you being devoid of energy, her being so gentle with you, and talking to you with the most smoothest and kindest voice she could put on, you would fall for it. you had your head on her chest, basking in her scent and letting her delude your thoughts like it was nothing. abby knew it was wrong. did she feel bad? in another universe maybe. she just wanted you to herself. “you know I wouldn’t do anything to hurt you, right? I love you so much baby.” she said to you sweetly. all you could to is hum in response while you smiled at the affection that she was showing you. to you and abby, this was just another friday..but to your friends…that’s its own story for another day.

tags: none cs I’m js clearing drafts out. 🧘🏾 🎀

[theemissuniverse]

COMEDIC RELIEF! FEM!READER INTROS WITH MK 11 CAST PART 1

SUMMARY : You are a powerful Earthrealm warrior with the ability to pick up peoples fighting styles. (Basically Shujinko.) and shapeshift into them. You were once a part of the Black Dragon and dated Kano but left.

WARNING : Suggestive dialogue.

A/N : This was fun. I missed doing this.

ROMANCE FLIRTY DIALOGUE

Kung Lao

Fujin

Scorpion

Kitana

Nightwolf

Shao Kahn

Probably more that I forgot. main character wants to f with everything tbh

FATALITIES

Rock, Paper, Scissors

(Y/N) will shape shift into Scorpion first. She’ll throw the spear at the opponent and yell “Get Over Here!” She’ll pull you over towards her. She’ll shape shift into Sindel and use her scream, making all the skin pull off her opponent. Then she’ll change into Liu Kang and preform his bicycle kick to go right through her opponent.

Monkey See, Monkey Do

(Y/N) will change into whoever her opponent is. Then hit her opponent in the face repeatedly saying, “why are you hitting yourself?” The manically laugh and do a spin kick to kick their head off.

FRIENDS

Kung Lao

Scorpion (one sided on her side)

Nightwolf

Noob Saibot (one sided on her side)

Kitana

Liu Kang

Cassie Cage

Fujin

ALLIES

Sheeva

Sub-Zero

Raiden

Jax Briggs

Johnny Cage

Jacqui Briggs

NEUTRAL

Rain

Mileena

Jade

Erron Black

Kabal

Baraka

Kotal Kahn

ENIMES

Cetrion

Frost

Shao Kahn (one sided on her side)

D’Vorah

Geras

Kano

Skarlet

Sonya Blade

Shang Tsung

Kollector

Sindel

DIALOGUE

(Y/N) #1 : Who’s hotter? Kung Lao or NightWolf?

(Y/N) #2 : Shao Kahn.

(Y/N) #1 : There’s no hope for you.

(Y/N) #2 : Okay round two. Who’s hotter? Kitana or Sonya?

(Y/N) #1 : Skarlet.

(Y/N) #2 : Dear god, what is wrong with you?

(Y/N) : Is it hot in here or is it just you?

SCORPION : It’s me.

(Y/N) : I can’t tell if you’re going along with my flirting or if you mean that literally.

(Y/N) : *shape shifted into Scorpion* Get over here!

SCORPION : How many times are you going to say that?

(Y/N) : *back to normal* Until it gets old.

(Y/N) : *imitating Smoke* Where there is Smoke there is fire!

SCORPION : I do not say that.

(Y/N) : One of you ninja freaks do.

(Y/N) : *shape shifted into Sub-Zero but with Scorpion’s voice* Get over here!

SUB-ZERO : I do not say that.

(Y/N) : *back to normal* It’s not my fault you don’t got a cool catchphrase.

(Y/N) : Come on, Kuai, don’t give me the cold shoulder. Ha! Get it? Because you got frosty powers?

SUB-ZERO : Yes. I get it, (Y/N).

(Y/N) : Cool. Glad we’re on the same page.

JADE : You and Johnny Cage are a headache.

(Y/N) : Yeah but I’m the funny one right?

JADE : By the gods…

(Y/N) : You’re cute when you get all fiery.

JADE : I am not nor will I ever be interested,

(Y/N) : Are you Outworld women conceited? I was trynna be all girl power and compliment you.

(Y/N) : 50 bucks says I beat you.

RAIDEN : I do not wager money.

(Y/N) : If you’re broke just say that.

(Y/N) : Come on, Raiden! Hook me up with Fujin.

RAIDEN : I will not play matchmaker with my brother.

(Y/N) : So you’re broke and not a matchmaker? What are you good for?

LIU KANG : Are you ready for training?

(Y/N) : Not if Kung Lao isn’t here.

LIU KANG : You know you’re the only person to utter that.

(Y/N) : Double or nothing!

LIU KANG : *laughs* I have already beaten you twenty times, (Y/N).

(Y/N) : So??? I will be the last one standing!

(Y/N) : Is it hot in here or is it just you?

LIU KANG : Didn’t you use that line on Scorpion?

(Y/N) : Give me a break. I can’t keep track of everything I said.

(Y/N) : Do your bicycle kick into Shao Kahn. He won’t leave me alone.

LIU KANG : I pity that you have to deal with that.

(Y/N) : The chosen one pities me? I must be dead meat.

(Y/N) : I’m not the bad guy anymore, Sonya.

SONYA BLADE : You were with Kano. Bad guy still stands with you.

(Y/N) : Yeesh. If you want to fuck him, go ahead.

(Y/N) : *shape shifted into Sonya but with Kano’s voice* ‘Ello baby, did you miss me?

SONYA BLADE : That’s not funny.

(Y/N) : *back to normal* Don’t be jealous cuz you can’t do the voice.

KUNG LAO : How come you haven’t trained with me?

(Y/N) : I’m scared I’ll hurt you.

KUNG LAO : Oh, sweetheart. That’s just not possible.

KUNG LAO : You dated Kano?!

(Y/N) : Are you judging me, Lao?

KUNG LAO : I just didn’t know your type was losers.

KUNG LAO : It seems like all the men want you.

(Y/N) : I know right? I’m a total catch.

KUNG LAO : None are better than me.

(Y/N) : You know the Darth Vader thing you got going on is kinda hot.

NOOB SAIBOT : I will bring you to death.

(Y/N) : Okay on second thought….

NOOB SAIBOT : Your fighting is impressive for an Earthrealm woman.

(Y/N) : Why thank you dark shadow thing.

NOOB SAIBOT : That doesn’t mean you can beat me.

(Y/N) : Come on, Bi-Han. We were buddies, remember?

NOOB SAIBOT : I tolerated you. I do not like you.

(Y/N) : We’ll that’s just hurtful.

(Y/N) : Come on. Say it. Just once.

KANO : *sighs* Throw a shrimp on the Barbie.

(Y/N) : Aww. You do still love me.

KANO : That bloke still hitting on you?

(Y/N) : You know how many men I have lined up? You’re going to have to be more specific.

KANO : The one with the stupid hat.

KANO : Your last chance to come back to me.

(Y/N) : I’d rather be with Shao Kahn than you.

KANO : You got yourself a death wish.

MILEENA : Come dance with me.

(Y/N) : How about no?

MILEENA : Then I’ll make you.

(Y/N) : I’m kinda into the whole vampire thing.

SKARLET : I am no vampire you mistake.

(Y/N) : Ouch. That wasn’t even necessary.

JOHNNY CAGE : You and me would make the hottest couple in Hollywood.

(Y/N) : I’d rather die than be caught dating a white American man.

JOHNNY CAGE : Death over dating me? Seriously?

(Y/N) : Now that I think about it, Takeda is kinda cute.

JACQUI BRIGGS : Don’t even (Y/N).

(Y/N) : What? I said I was thinking it.

JACQUI BRIGGS : Don’t say it…

(Y/N) : Okay I won’t….your dad’s kinda hot -

JACQUI BRIGGS : Stop it!

(Y/N) : To what do I owe this displeasure?

D’VORAH : The Kahn wants you. Alive.

(Y/N) : The Kahn will be disappointed then.

(Y/N) : *shape shifted into Shang Tsung* Your soul is mine!

SHANG TSUNG : I sound nothing like that!

(Y/N) : *back to normal* Sure you don’t…

SINDEL : You are too weak for Shao Kahn.

(Y/N) : And yet…he wants me more than you.

SINDEL : A fatal mistake he has made.

KITANA : Tell Kung Lao I am not interested.

(Y/N) : Because you’re going to admit your undying love for me right?

KITANA : *laughs* You amuse me, (Y/N).

CASSIE CAGE : So do you like girls or boys?

(Y/N) : I like whatever looks good.

CASSIE CAGE : That is such a ‘you’ answer.

CASSIE CAGE : Come on, admit it. You like him a little.

(Y/N) : He keeps sending human hearts at my door. No!

CASSIE CAGE : Who knew Shao Kahn was a romantic?

(Y/N) : You know you want me.

JAX BRIGGS : Tuh. Not exactly my type.

(Y/N) : What I gotta do? Get a cheap blonde wig?

KABAL : Fighting me won’t make you gain all my moves.

(Y/N) : That is literally how it works.

KABAL : Ah shit.

SHAO KAHN : I will kill all my concubines just to have you.

(Y/N) : Why doesn’t anyone normal want me?

SHAO KAHN : You did not deny me.

SHAO KAHN : Earthrealm is wasting your power.

(Y/N) : Let me guess, you have better use for it?

SHAO KAHN : More than you know.

(Y/N) : Tell your scream queen wife to leave me alone.

SHAO KAHN : Her jealousy is its own weapon.

(Y/N) : How the hell did the tyrant want me?!

(Y/N) : Stop sending me human hearts in a box. It’s weird.

SHAO KAHN : What would you like for me to do?

(Y/N) : Not send me human hearts???

(Y/N) : How come you’re not my mentor and Raiden is?

FUJIN : Because we wouldn’t be able to go through one lesson without you flirting.

(Y/N) : I can’t help it if you’re hot.

(Y/N) : I’m ready to be blown away Fujin. Get it? Because you control the wind. And stuff…

FUJIN : Yes, (Y/N). I get it.

(Y/N) : Good. Let’s tussle.

(Y/N) : 50 bucks says I beat you.

FUJIN : Are you sure you want to lose all your money?

(Y/N) : Oh you think you’re the funny one here?

FUJIN : Ignore Shao Kahn’s advances, (Y/N).

(Y/N) : You say that like I’ve been hanging around with him.

FUJIN : After finding out about Sindel, I don’t know what to expect.

FUJIN : Your power is most impressive.

(Y/N) : *giggling* I take that like you’re flirting with me.

FUJIN : You take everything I say as me flirting with you.

NIGHTWOLF : You are a powerful warrior, (Y/N).

(Y/N) : *giggling* You make me blush, Nightwolf.

NIGHTWOLF : Show me what you can do.

(Y/N) : If your name isn’t Nightwolf then what is it?

NIGHTWOLF : I will never hear the end of it if I tell you.

(Y/N) : Aw. Don’t be shy, Nighty.

OTHER INTROS MENTIONING YOU

LIU KANG : (Y/N) says she likes you better than me.

KUNG LAO : Smart and beautiful. What doesn’t she have?

LIU KANG : The sense to realize I am the better one.

SHAO KAHN : I will have (Y/N) and take over Earthrealm.

KUNG LAO : Tuh. Don’t think you’re her type.

SHAO KAHN : Says the one who gets rejected for Liu Kang.

LIU KANG : You know…(Y/N) doesn’t seem like your type.

KANO : She wasn’t personality wise but body wise she was.

LIU KANG : You are truly insufferable, Kano.

SINDEL : That pretender has gotten under your skin.

SHAO KAHN : I don’t need you of all people to tell me that.

SINDEL : That rat will die where she stands.

SCORPION : Your ex will not stop showing her affections for me.

KANO : She’ll fuck anything with a pulse.

SCORPION : She dated you. I expect that.

RAIDEN : (Y/N), keeps asking about you.

FUJIN : Really? What has she said?

RAIDEN : Do not fall for a mortal, brother.

JOHNNY CAGE : We all know you wanna bone (Y/N), dude.

NIGHTWOLF : I can’t tell if you’re (Y/N) impersonating Cage or if that’s really you.

JOHNNY CAGE : Really? We act that much alike?

JADE : How are you friends with (Y/N)?

KITANA : She’s not as bad as you think she is, Jade.

JADE : I highly doubt that.

FUJIN : Stay away from, (Y/N).

SHAO KAHN : I am not threatened by an air bender.

FUJIN : You should be.

SONYA BLADE : (Y/N) is not your friend, Cassie.

CASSIE CAGE : Can’t you put your beef in the past? She’s cool.

SONYA BLADE : Once a black dragon, always a black dragon.

TOWER ENDING

I’m pretty much a badass so it was expected that I was the one to defeat Kronika. There was one thing I wasn’t sure about. The hourglass.

Changing history would mean the relationships I’ve made along the way would be forgotten. And I would go back to being the evil bitch in the Black Dragon.

In the new timeline, I made it exactly how it should be. Liu Kang and Kung Lao heroes. Shang Tsung, Shao Kahn, and the others casted away like they never existed.

Everything was supposed to be peaceful.

I started to feel a newfound boredom. Because there was no chaos and I made everything perfect, there was nothing. Absolutely nothing.

The people I’ve once cared about had no recollection of me and I didn’t know what to be. The only reason why I was one of the good guys was because of the people that were near and dear to my heart.

So I did what I do best, I played the bad guy.

And damn does it feel good to be the bad guy again.

A/N : part 2 or mk 1 next?????

[wanatasha]

˗ˏˋcat & mouse´ˎ˗

chapter one

⤑ bounty hunter!natasha x fem!reader

how she met you, seated across from you at the bar. leaned back, twisting her knife from under the table. it was the first chase of many.

summary ༯ space/star wars theme, not proofread (i’ll come back later), enemies(?) to lovers, bounty hunter!natasha, criminal!reader, cat/mouse dynamics, hurt/comfort, eventual smut (MDNI — top!n, bottom!reader), ambush, injuries (n and r sustaining), alcohol mentions, blood mentions, r doesn’t have a family, weapon discussion/mentions (knives & blasters), sensual dynamics, N is stronger than R

╰━━━━⋆series m.list • ✎1.7k • next chapter ⋆━━━━╯

“What,” your friend exclaimed from beside you, leaning closer, “please don’t tell me I hear that correctly.”

       “The black widow is after me,” you hissed over to him, eyes remaining on the people surrounding the pub as to act inconspicuous despite being the third most wanted on the list of criminals. You’re confident at least seventy percent of people in this building recognize your face. That other forty percent are stupid and probably entered the pub after you took down the flyers just outside on the door. 

“What. The. Hell.” He said each word with an emphasis, dramatically leaning himself back into his cair, “how the fuck and where the fuck did this even happen?”

        “Well good thing is I’m on the list like we wanted, bad thing is–I’m on the damn list. I’m going to get killed now.”

“Yeah, ain’t no way you’re running from her. Nobody does. That’s why she has the title black–”

        “Keep saying her name and she’ll appear,” you say, mumbling into your glass, “and that’s the last thing I need happening right now when I’m trying to think of a way out of this.” 

“You’re slick, but not that slick. Nobody’s that slick. I guess except for the bla–”

Your foot collides with his and he cuts his sentence off. 

It’s busy tonight as it always is. People and species from all over the universe are entering and crowding the pub. Drinks of all colors and textures are passed around, the bartenders hard at work creating such drinks and handing them out. Your friend leans over the counter, hand raised to catch one of the bartender's attention while you down the rest of your drink. 

He finishes his order with the bartender before facing you, “is there any specific way you can think of getting out of this with her?”

       “Not right now, no. The price on my head is too grand, I can’t pay higher. I can’t run or hide from her, I can try but that’s useless. I could try to kill her, but the chances of that happening are less than one percent. Best I can think of doing is running, but I don’t really–” 

Your speech slows when you feel like the hairs on the back of your neck stand. Just across the way your eyes landed on a woman with red hair and an outfit so dark it blends into the shadows of where she sits in the pub. The world closes in on you, making it hard to breathe. Your friend notices and looks in the direction you're looking, his reaction similar to yours. Just under the table she holds a knife in her hand. You watch as she twirls it with ease, flicking between each hand as she stares you down with a look. It’s a quiet confidence that surrounds her, almost playful. 

“You should run, I can try to hold her back. If you’re alive, meet me back at the ship,” your friend says beside you, voice monotone and low. 

You nod, keeping eye contact with her as your hips begin to slide off the chair you’re sitting in. In a split second you take off behind you, shoving past everyone to shove the back door open. You twist around, climbing straight up the ladder. On top you can see everything, and you wait until she comes out. Nothing. You turn around and her body collides with hers–throwing the both of you off of the side of the building. Your vision blackens around the edges as you try to inhale oxygen. She has you pinned onto the ground, her hands on your biceps and her body straddling yours. 

You take a deep breath and slam both your feet into her back–pushing her to knock heads with yours. It makes you even dizzier than before but at least it throws her off balance. She brings a hand to her face while you try to drag yourself out from her hold with a wince. No surprise that she recovers fast, bringing her hand right back down to hold onto your shoulder–stopping you. 

The sight of her left hand reaching for her knife wakes you up. Adrenaline fully rushing through you as you bring your legs up again to land your knee against the bone of her crotch. Her grip loosens ever so slightly, giving you time to use it to whip yourself out. Instead of trying to even fight, you run.

You run and run across the town. You run through a market, pushing past the people–ignoring the dirty looks they give you as you do. You run through the neighborhood, past the houses and families towards the other end of the small town. You want to scream when you hear her footsteps behind you. The sound of her feet hitting the ground creeping you out and making you almost stumble in your walk. 

An alleyway arrives and you twist into it, your hand reaching onto your thigh to take your knife. Just as you do she swats it away. The knife flies, landing in the sand about a foot away. You elbow her and move past towards your knife but her foot comes under you, tripping you and causing you to land face up on the ground. You groan, looking up and still trying to reach for your knife again. She catches your wrist, halting your movement and holding it still above your head. You meet her free hand halfway, using her momentum to swing the two of you over. With her beneath you, you reach over her to grab your knife and you quickly angle it at her neck. 

You pant above her, your legs straddling her waist and your eyes staring down at her cool, blue ones. 

“It’s a shame you’re hot,” you murmur.

      “You think I’m hot?” 

Just then a whizzing sound flies by your ear and you’re looking to find your friend standing to the left of you two, a blaster settled in his hands. He aims it lower, towards her–and you rush to pull yourself off of her. You trip and stumble a bit as you find your balance, running towards your friend. The two of you sprint, both aware you need to be getting back onto your ship and booking it to another planet. 

“Are you alright,” he asks, looking you over as you both make quick work of trying to make it to your ship.

       “Yes,” you reach to press the button on your remote to make the hatch open. He follows behind, shutting it immediately. As the door shuts, you watch her just run out of the city–slowing down to watch your plane take off. You breathe deep, almost laughing as you lean back onto the walls of the ship. Your friend on the other hand rushes up front towards the main panel, flicking switches to set the ship to fly. 

“We should head to Tatooine. Jakku isn’t safe anymore, at least for now.” 

      “Okay,” you gulp in air, holding onto the back of his seat, “yeah, I don’t care as long as it's not with her.” 

He sets the coordinates into the ship and proceeds to switch on hyperspace. The sight of the stars flying by finally relaxes both of your muscles. You tear up, reaching a hand to rest onto his shoulder. 

“We lived,” you laugh, “we lived.” 

He smiles sadly, moving to hug you tightly–embracing you in the helm for a minute as you cry your shock and adrenaline away. He welcomes you to sit in the seat as he walks back to grab the medical kit. While you wait, the gentle humming sound of the ship almost lures you to sleep.

“Where did she get you?”

       “Face, ribs, arms mainly.”

He hums, setting the kit down beside you. Wipes are applied, swiping over the area to clean them and wipe off any blood that seeped out. Your face and arms had minimal damage, it was when he lifted your shirt up that he was able to see a majority of the damage. 

He whistles, “she did some damage to you for sure.”

        “We fell off a building.” 

“That’ll do it.” 

He moves his fingers around the area gently, watching your face for any show of pain. The areas around where your bones lie had the most reaction from you, a singing hiss and the sight of you closing your eyes. 

“It’ll be best if you let me keep watch and land tonight, you need to rest.”

     “I’m not going to fight you on that,” you say tiredly, looking at him with a smile that used the last bit of energy you had. He watches you wander back to the cot–ensuring you don’t faint before he turns around and keeps watch. 

That was the first time you ran into her. 

It’s been a week and a half now of playing this cat and mouse game. You fly to a new planet, she finds you, you two fight, and repeat. It’s the same game. Rinse and repeat. Your friend sits beside you at yet another bar, sliding his finger around the glass. 

“Think she’s going to show up,” he asks, shifting his gaze to the doors surrounding you. 

        “Yeah.”

“Are you two going to flirt again?”

        “What,” you blink, looking directly at him, “excuse me, wait. What?”

He shrugs and it seemingly offends you. 

Your mouth drops open, “flirt? You think we’re flirting?” 

        “It’s been over a week and she hasn't ‘caught you yet.’ I have a feeling she’s just messing with you now.” 

“Okay whatever,” your tone is sharp, curt as you turn from him. 

Maybe it’s not been the same. She’s been tracking you for a week and a half now, strange when her motto as black widow is that she always kills her bounty on her first day. You spiral, going back over every one of your encounters. This time when the shivers wrack your body and the hair stands on your neck, it’s for an entirely different reason. 

There she sits again, across from you at the bar–and this time she smiles when you notice her.

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[wisteriaiswriting]

𝕋𝕒𝕟𝕜 𝔻𝕒𝕥𝕖 ℍ𝕖𝕒𝕕𝕔𝕒𝕟𝕠𝕟𝕤

Type of date | Location | Are they romantic? | How much money will they spend | What happens after | Blurb

Words: 1679

𝔻.𝕍𝕒:

She isn’t one for big, fancy dates. So she much prefers staying indoors playing video games.

She’ll drag you along to arcades. Making sure you two have the whole place to yourselves.

Isn’t as romantic as she thinks. It’s always interrupted by her giggling.

No matter how much you spend it won't make a dent in the amount she has. And she’s willing to let you use as much as possible.

She'll likely become tired. So she’ll fall asleep and in turn trapping you in her arms.

***

“Let’s go!”

“Finally, I thought you would never win.” Your celebrating was mixed with her teasing. You two had been playing Mario Kart for hours, with you just now winning a round.

Tempted as you were to play another round, wanting to show her you weren’t as bad as she said. Pausing when you felt a weight on your shoulder, slowly looking over to see Hana.

She had fallen asleep, in turn falling onto your shoulder. Her sleeping quickly turned into cuddles, taking her place on your lap.

Maybe a nap wouldn’t be too bad.

𝔻𝕠𝕠𝕞𝕗𝕚𝕤𝕥:

He much prefers the fancier things in life, so no surprise when he takes you to a 5 star restaurant.

He’ll reserve a private room for the both of you, making sure you’re getting the best things you deserve.

Is a real romantic and he knows it too.

Money means absolutely nothing to him when compared to you. He can give you his card to buy anything but there's no way you could make a dent in it.

When his romantic mood strikes it lasts for a while. Pulling you into a walt with him, making sure you're laughing and having fun during it.

***

The night was still young and Akande wasn’t going to waste it. Still in your outfits as he pulled you into his arms, the classical music playing faintly in the background.

It was one he had been practicing since he was a child, ingrained in his memories. And he wanted to make plenty of new ones with you. Pulling you closer as the song finished, letting the next one continue before starting the next dance.

𝕁𝕦𝕟𝕜𝕖𝕣𝕢𝕦𝕖𝕖𝕟:

She already thinks being around her is good enough so you’ll have to convince her to do something, which would be watching her fight and win.

Gonna be around Junkertown, either in the arena watching her from her throne there or in her actual throne room.

Much less romantic and more flirty. She has no clue about romance, absolutely none.

Technically none so don’t go out of Junkertown, but when inside you won’t need any anyways.

If you’re not a junker she’s taking you for a tour, but if so you’re going right up to her room and throne room.

***

All you could hear is the yelling, shouting and screaming of the Junkers around you. Odessa had won another fight, not that anyone was surprised.

Watching everyone leave, still loudly chattering away. During that time she was making her way back up to the throne, making it clear when he returned.

“How was that?” Her arms opened just to pull you into a hug, picking you up off the ground.

“Another win isn’t new, so predictable!” Suddenly throwing you up into the air, letting you fall into her arms in a bridal carry. A giant smile on her face.

“Let's celebrate!”

𝕄𝕒𝕦𝕘𝕒:

I’m going to be honest here, he can only cook very few foods. He will insist on a cooking date, just supervise him, you’ll need to.

As he’s part of Talon (So are you likely) so the only place you two can safely go to is the base.

Is more on the flirty side rather than romantic, but he can try tone down the flirting but you’ll need to ask him most times.

Normally he wouldn’t care about the price of things, but with you? It doesn’t even pass his mind once.

Even if you two cooked earlier he needs a bit to fill him up, so it’s likely you’ll have to cook again. But if you don’t want to, he'll find someone else for the both of you.

***

He wanted to give you a surprise breakfast in bed, except for the fact both of you were standing in the kitchen. By now he knew your favourite kind so he was quick to start.

“Mauga, what are you doing?”

“Huh?” Brought back to attention, realizing he had stopped cooking and was staring at you. You learnt when the fire alarm was going off. The food had become burnt, not even you wanted to try it.

“Why don’t we order in?”

ℝ𝕒𝕞𝕒𝕥𝕥𝕣𝕒:

Takes you to a small and simple cafe.

Much prefers to stay at base, but if you want to go somewhere he will take you.

He doesn’t even try cause he has no clue what he’s doing, seeing no use in romance, unless you really want it.

Has plenty of money to spend due to various jobs and resources, and he allows you to spend a lot of it. Will watch what you buy to figure out what you enjoy.

He will return to work but you can stay around if you’d want. Might even let you sit on his lap.

***

He had no idea what you wanted to do, so he ended up on the internet. Looking up ideas that seemed good, ending up on the idea of a cat cafe. You enjoyed cats and food, well he hoped. While he couldn’t understand all these attachments if it made you happy he’d be fine.

The date started simple, while you ordered food he looked around at the cats. There was a range, from calicos to ragdolls. While he looked he didn’t see the cat walking up to you, a plain black cat.

It nudged you, causing your attention to shift.

“Ram, it looks like you!” Holding it up even as it shifted, only getting comfortable. It was a plain black, short haired adult, sporting a purple collar.

“It does.” Maybe he’d look for one similar to you.

ℝ𝕖𝕚𝕟𝕙𝕒𝕣𝕕𝕥:

Enjoys walking around a market, able to spend time with you and buy you things.

Also has fun sitting around at home or the base, able to enjoy your hobbies together.

Has quite a bit of experience due to his age, but is aware of how romantic he is.

Accidentally spends a lot of money on you during the walk, as he won’t look at the prices. Isn’t worried though.

Will hold you while you both enjoy a drink, telling you stories about anything he can think of.

***

Dropping the bags onto the floor, letting some items fall onto the floor but neither of you minded. He stretched, hearing his back crack.

“You should’ve let me carry the bags.”

“Nonsense by dear,” He picked you up, letting you sit on his shoulder, “You need to relax!” Grabbing himself a beer and your favourite drink before sitting down, dropping you onto his lap.

“Now, did I ever tell you about the crusaders?”

ℝ𝕠𝕒𝕕𝕙𝕠𝕘:

He’ll take you for a motorbike ride around the outback, won’t go scavenging unless you really want to.

Most times you’d be staying at his and Junkrats makeshift base.

Has little experience, due to being isolated from others.

Due to being a junker he doesn’t have a lot of money, also meaning neither of you need any.

He’ll take you both back to base, wanting to spend time with each other.

***

The sun was beating down on the land, and on you if Mako wasn’t in the way. Instead you were covered in his shadow, slightly cooler and safer from the heat. With the goggles protecting your eyes from any stray sand or dirt.

While you were looking around this gave Mako the chance to look at you. Taking in all your features. The way the sun revealed everything, everything that he loved about you.

𝕊𝕚𝕘𝕞𝕒:

He’ll cook you both a nice dinner to enjoy away from the others.

He won’t be able to leave the Talon base so thanks to Sombra you’ll be away and inaccessible to others.

As much as he tries he’s always flustered, sometimes laughing in between words.

Due to being at the Talon base neither of you will need any money.

He just wants to hold you close, cuddling while reading some of his favourite books.

***

You felt a pair of arms wrap around your waist, pulling you off of your feet so you hung above the ground. Looking behind to see Sigma looking down at you, a hung smile on his face.

“There you are Starlight!” Moving you around so you lay in his arms, floating over to a chair. “How about I read us a story?”

Asking as he pulled a book from one of his many shelves.

ℤ𝕒𝕣𝕪𝕒:

Her first thought would be a gym date, but she knows not everyone would like it. So she goes for a nice and cozy lunch date instead.

She takes you to a small, less popular cafe that she goes to often. It's kinda small yet cozy place.

Unluckily she has no experience, being focused on other things. But she still tries, constantly looking to improve.

Normally won't spend a lot but for you she’ll go over her normal amount, you’ll be able to get most items you want.

Will pull you around to look around the town, stopping by the nearest ice cream of gelato place. Treating you to a flavour of your choice.

***

Before she even knocked at the door you knew she had arrived, her nervous pacing outside wasn’t the quietest. With fast paced and surprisingly light knocks. Stepping away when you opened the door.

There she stood, a button up shirt and simple black pants. A bouquet of your favourite flowers were held in her hand, reaching for you to take them.

“Dear, you look amazing!” While speaking her voice cracked lightly, face covered in blush. Hold out her arm for you to take. “Ready for today?”

[totheblood]

even more modern!ellie headcanons

a/n: just a little something... again AI AUDIOS AT THE END... replies and reblogs are appreciated

masterlist

ellie is a homebody, and usually will have to be dragged out by you or dina

honestly she’s never ‘dragged’ out by you, she usually likes to tag along if she knows you’re going somewhere where there will be a lot of people

it’s not that she doesn’t trust you, it’s that she doesn’t trust the people around you

you don’t really mind anyway, you like how she loops her finger in the belt of your jeans and pulls you closer to her when she notices someone staring at you

if the person doesn’t stop she’s not above pressing a kiss to the shell of your ear while making direct eye contact with the person

you giggle, throwing your head back slightly and turning to look at her in the dim light, “what’s gotten into you, ellie?”

“that dick keeps looking at you,” another kiss pressed to your jaw, “don’t like it.”

but she’d much rather stay at home with you, both of you tucked under her comforter with the air conditioner turned down to 64° and whatever show you’re watching at the time on the tv

she hates to admit it, but she loves grey’s anatomy (she swore to you she’d never like it with a scoff and “that show is shit, babe. it’s for like, middle-aged moms with no life.”)

but now as you both have your eyes glued to the screen, she can’t help but scoff every time george is on the screen

“what?”

“he’s just such a fucking loser, this guy.”

“he’s not the worst.”

“he’s pretty fucking bad… why would he sleep with meredith and then make it about him when she starts crying! it’s obvious she’s vulnerable… i just don’t like him.”

ellie gets pretty passionate when watching tv. she’s always sharing her opinions with you, looking at you for validation or arguing when you disagree with her

she’ll always add something like: “you’re lucky you’re cute” or “if you weren’t my girlfriend i’d tear your argument apart” and then kiss you on your nose and go back to watching tv

ellie is an awful cook… like so bad

one time she tried to make a recipe for your anniversary, thinking it would be easy but ended up failing miserably

she’s the type to write out the grocery list and cross shit off as she picks things up… even when she doesn’t know what it means

she didn’t know what trader joe’s was, so when she got there she’d be picking shit up and looking at it with a weird look on her face, “mango… joe joe’s? what the fuck is that?” she’d mutter before putting the box back on the shelf

but eventually she’s getting sucked in, picking up a box of mini ice cream cones, cookie butter, and the rest of the groceries needed for the meal she planned on making for you

you come over and the place is a mess, there is flour all over the counter and floors, pots and pans piled up in the stove, and ellie is stood over a bowl, mixing with a giant wooden spoon

“ellie?”

“shit.. fuck,” she curses, jumping a little bit before turning and smiling at you, her eyes looking you up and down, “you fucking scared me. you’re early.”

“no, i’m not.”

ellie’s eyes glance down at her watch, cursing as she bolts towards the stove a “no, no, no,” falling from her lips as she opens and sees the chicken inside burnt to a crisp. she’s throwing on her mitt and pulling the pan out, sighing as she watches all her hard work go to waste.

“you were trying to cook for me?”

ellie forgot you were there for a moment, her jumping a little at the sound of your voice and wiping the sweat from her forehead as she gives you her best smile, even though it’s strained.

“babe, i’m sorry, i- i don’t know where i went wrong,” she sighs, watching as you walk closer to her and put your hands on the counter behind her trapping her in.

“don’t be sorry” you kiss the side of her lips and smile against her skin, tasting her sweat, “it’s sweet… no one’s ever cooked for me before.”

she’s blushing and leaning into you, your warmth providing her some comfort from her previous stress 

“you look nice,” she whispers below her breath, but you can still feel the puffs of air coming out of her mouth, “you deserve a good meal.”

“i’m not picky,” you whisper back, giggling as ellie’s heart leaps in her chest. she loves you so much it hurts

her hands rest at your hips when she kisses you gently, saying something about missing you that you miss because of how her lips feel against yours

you order takeout that night and eat it as you help her clean up the mess she made

“have you ever been to trader joe’s? that shit was crazy”

ellie is the type of girlfriend to send you two people from a tv show or an edit and be like “babe, this is so us”

or to think it’s so cute when you have matching icons on instagram, tiktok, or twitter

she just wants to show you off all the time

she draws the line at a joint couple account though

she’s always writing things about you, whether it be in her journal, little poems, or songs about you

she’d post a song she wrote you on tiktok with the caption “wrote this song about my lover” and not expect it to blow up

but then she’s receiving a million comments about how sweet it is and how people wish someone would do something like that for them

she doesn’t like the comment “can your gf fight” so she’s responding to all of them like “no, she can’t, but i can and i will! LEAVE MY GF ALONE!!”

but she’d brag about it to you, shoving her phone in your face and saying “look, your girlfriend is fucking famous.”

when you gasp and grab her face congratulating her in between kisses her face grows red and she’s smiling so wide her cheeks hurt

“don’t forget me when you become famous.”

“how could i forget my muse?”

ellie loves listening to music with you and will make you a playlist that she updates with every song she listens to that reminds her of you

she’s incredibly corny in that way

she always wants to listen to the music you suggest to her, wanting to be closer to you in any way she can

even if she doesn’t like it she’s pretending she loves it and playing it constantly, even when you aren’t around

ai audios:

[tabbedtabby]

good luck, babe! | chapter 3

regina george x reader

summary: After the Queen Bee of North Shore makes up rumors about you taking pictures of girls in the changing room, you decide to take matters into your own hands. You didn’t think that would mean coming to a reluctant agreement with Regina George.

a/n: not proofread 😗 sorry

———————————————————————

After Regina’s demand that you help her with her math, you set up an arrangement for you to come over after school on Mondays and Wednesdays. Lucky you.

She’s in the lowest possible math class you can take as a junior, so you don’t think the tutoring thing will be too hard. What you’re really worried about is being at her house. The woods were your turf; Regina’s house was completely different territory. God, you wish you never got caught up in any of this in the first place. Not like it was your fault.

What makes it even worse is that Regina isn’t even bad company most of the time. Sure, she’s a total bitch, but she’s funny and some of her stories are entertaining to listen to. Mostly because they’re so stupid. You’d consider her a friend if you could find an ounce of compassion in her and if she didn’t practically ruin your life at school. You had to start eating lunch in the bathroom because even your group of guitar geeks started to turn on you. It was embarrassing, but perhaps a blessing in disguise since you don’t really like talking to them anyway. It was kind of nice to be ignored sometimes.

On Monday, you go back behind the baseball field anyway. You have no way to communicate with Regina and you doubt she’ll want to be seen with you in the student parking lot, so you wait for her to find you.

This was such a waste of time. Lately it felt like your entire life revolved around her. You’re a pariah at school because of rumors she made up, and then right after the bell rings you’re smoking and laughing with her. Just to go home, sleep, and do it all again the next day. You lay your head back against a tree. The days were starting to get colder.

After a couple of minutes, you almost doze off until you hear the harsh snap of twigs under storming feet. Uh-oh. Regina was pissed.

“What the hell? Are you stupid? Did you forget what day it is?” You hear her before you even see her. If she was gonna be like this, you’d rather just go home. You bite your tongue absentmindedly.

“Aren’t I too embarrassing to be seen going home with?” you respond dryly, but you can’t help but smile a bit. She got mad over the stupidest things. If anyone should be angry, it should be you.

“Obviously. But making me walk all the way back here was cruel.” she says with a small raise of her eyebrows, and you realize she’s not really pissed. You’re not used to her joking with you. You flash her a smile.

“I’m sure you’ll survive,” you snide, throwing one strap of your bag back over your shoulder.

“Won’t. Anyway, are we going or not?” Regina says with exaggerated annoyance, turning back around with a grace you’ll never have in a million years. She throws her hair over her shoulder and begins to stalk off between the trees.

The drive to Regina’s house is awkward. Mostly because she makes you sit in the back in case anyone were to see you in the passenger seat. Just about everyone in town knew what Regina’s car looked like, so you can’t say you’re surprised.

When Regina finally pulls into her massive driveway, you’re instantly in awe of the giant house that sits before you. You’ve seen it before on Instagram, but never in person. It has elegant pillars and a round shape that makes it look like a giant jewelry box. You grew up on the poorer side, so it feels like a movie to step into a house like this.

“Ugh. You’re acting like Cady, it’s gross,” you hear Regina complain as you look around the inside of the house with wonder. It’s so pristine that it doesn’t even look lived in. How a child was raised here is beyond you.

Regina seems eager to get upstairs, and you realize why when you see a woman round the corner as if she’s been waiting for this moment her entire life. You can tell she’s Regina’s mother almost immediately. They both have bleach blonde hair, sharp blue eyes, and a sharp face. Regina’s is intimidating while her mother’s is a bit kinder.

“Ooh, who’s this? Definitely not the usual three!” Regina’s mother asks with sparking excitement, taking a few steps towards you and reaching her hands out to cup your face. You’re sure she’s just trying to be nice, but her hands are cold and her attention on you is uncomfortable. Regina’s annoyance is almost palpable in the air.

“She’s just helping me with math, don’t be gross,” Regina spits out, as if the words were bile in her throat. “Please leave.”

“Okay, sweetie!” Regina’s mother says, her voice still light as if Regina’s tone didn’t phase her at all. You blink in shock at the whole interaction as her hands drop from your cheeks. “Let me know if you want snacks later! Slay the day away!”

You cringe a bit at her use of modern slang, but you instantly feel bad. She’s obviously trying her best.

Regina seems to have the same reaction, just without the pity. She immediately purses her lips in annoyance and shepards you up the stairs, apparently urgent to get away from her mother. This is the first and only time you will ever be grateful for Regina.

“God, sorry about that. She’s so annoying. It’s just like being at school; she literally wants to be me.” Regina scoffs, the perfect mix of annoyed and amused. You hardly even hear her anyway just by the sight of her massive room. It’s probably over triple the size of your own and a lot more majestic. It’s almost regal. If you lived in a castle like this, you’d act like a princess too.

Regina throws her bag on the ground and kicks her shoes off. She’s wearing a black leather vest today along with pants of a similar texture. The whole biker aesthetic she’s got going on clashes with her bright pink room, but somehow she makes it work. She looks good in the leather.

She obviously doesn’t want to start right away, but you’re not trying to stay for dinner so you make her get her math stuff out. Apparently, sitting at her desk is too much effort for her, so you both end up sitting on her bed.

She’s taking Geometry, which you don’t know how that’s even possible for a junior, but it starts to make sense when Regina displays not even an ounce of skill when you go through her review packet. If she’s trying to stay on the soccer team, it’s going to take a lot of work on her part. She doesn’t even seem remotely interested in what you’re trying to explain. You’re biting back the annoyance at this point; she could at least make the smallest effort.

“Regina, you’re not gonna learn anything unless you actually pay attention to what I’m saying.” you eventually snap, putting your head in your hands for a moment as you rub your temple. Proofs were basically just logic and she was even having trouble with that. It didn’t help that you were starving and Regina seemed adamant on keeping her mother from bringing the two of you anything.

“I was at school all day, I’m tired,” she says lazily, pushing the side of her head into one of her palms. Her hair furls up into her hand and she looks straight out of a daydream. How she manages to looks perfectly articulated even while annoyed is beyond you.

“So am I, but I’m here helping you instead of in my bed. At your request, by the way, so can you please just help me out here?” You want so badly to snap at her, but she really does look tired. You seriously can’t believe you feel bad for Regina George, whose biggest problem is staying awake while trying to do homework, but you’re tired too so you kinda get it. She’s basically falling asleep in the palm of her hand until she looks up at you indignantly.

“Do you want to play soccer?” you ask, putting your hands in your lap. Have to scare her into doing math somehow.

Regina seems to think for a moment before pursing her lips slightly. “You are so annoying.” she says, but props her head up to look at the packet again. You smile a bit and point back at where you left off.

It takes a while, but eventually you get some terms down. She’s only doing proofs for line segments so far, so you try to explain to her that it’s basically just a set of directions of how to figure something out. She kind of gets it. ‘Kind of’ will keep her on the soccer team, so overall you’re happy with today’s progress.

As Regina puts her stuff back into her bag, you slide off the bed to get your own. You want to go home, but at the same time, you want to pass out on Regina’s bed and never get back up. It was almost comforting in here with the large, soft bed and the colorfully decorated walls. You bet sleeping in that bed would be like drowning in dough.

Regina frowns at you when you stand up and gather your things. Per usual, you pretend you don’t notice to avoid an unsavory comment.

“Where are you going?” she asks. You bite your lip. You guess pretending not to notice isn’t going to work this time around.

“It’s staring to get dark out, I should probably go.” you say with a shrug. You’d probably have to make dinner for your brother tonight.

“Well, duh, it gets dark out, like, super early now.” she complains, looking at you the same way she looks at Gretchen when she says something Regina doesn’t like. “Come on, don’t be a loser. I wanna show you something.”

You like it a lot more when she’s nice to you than when she’s not, and the small smile on her lips makes her look all too innocent. You know this is just how she lures people in; you’d seen it happen in real time with Cady. But if you were aware of it, then you couldn’t be fooled, right? Besides, you want to know what she has to show you. Your brother was old enough to make his own dinner.

“Fine,” you say with a slight roll of your eyes, and Regina gives you an approving smile. You can kind of understand why people at school seek out Regina’s approval so much. It does feel nice to be accepted by her, even if it’s just by the small gesture of staying in Regina’s room a little longer. You’re not dependant on it like they are, however. It’s just nice to not be slandered by her for once.

You sit back down on Regina’s bed as she looks in her closet for something, supposedly whatever she wants to show you. The bed’s so lush it threatens to swallow you. Your eyes watch Regina’s back as she digs through baskets of what you think to be old clothes. You’d always imagined she would have one of those giant walk-in closets that are almost like another room, but her closet looks similar to yours, maybe a bit more modern.

Regina comes back with a big pink book in one hand and a dangerous smile on her lips. You raise an eyebrow at her as she tosses it on the bed, front cover up. It says “Burn Book” in different sized letters that remind you of those ransom notes you see on TV. You raise your eyebrows.

“What is this? Did you make it?” you ask as she plops back down on the bed beside you. You reach a hand out to touch the letters, but Regina slaps your wrist away before you get the chance.

“Obviously, I made it,” she responds snarkily, flipping open the cover. “I kinda forgot about it until we looked through it a couple weeks ago. Now I can’t stop.”

At first you think it’s some kind of scrapbook until you see the text underneath each photo. Calling people bitches, sluts, shrimps, or whichever demeaning name Regina saw fit. It’s demented, but exactly what you’d expect from Regina. It’s almost like having a catalog of every rumor she’s ever made up. Sure enough, you see your name on the next page. The caption on your page is along the lines of what you hear in the halls every time the bell rings.

“So this is where that came from?” you ask, feeling the annoyance bubble up inside of you again. You were beginning to forget about it after hanging out with Regina so much, she almost seemed like somewhat of a friend.

“Come on, don’t act all pissed about it. I thought you didn’t care.” she says, sounding more annoyed you mentioned it than apathetic.

“I punched you. I obviously care.” you snap in response.

What you expect to come next is an apology. You openly admitted that what Regina did hurt your feelings, although it was more of the fact that her rumors drove away all of your friends. She quite literally ruined your social life, even if she does hang out with you now. If you could even call it that. All she does is smoke your weed for free in exchange for her to not further ruin your life.

But she doesn’t apologize. Regina just scoffs then goes right back to flipping through the pages of the Burn Book, completely unbothered. She really doesn’t care. You know she doesn’t really know you, but you thought she knew you well enough to at least feel bad about spreading false information about you.

You should get angry again, storm off like you did the other day in the woods. But all you do is sit there. Why do you care, anyway? You knew she was awful, inside and out, when you made that deal with her. You know she doesn’t care about how her actions affect people, not even her closest friends. Even if she would be nothing without them. It makes sense she would disregard your feelings just the same.

You realize you’re stupid for expecting an apology from Regina. She obviously didn’t care. It’s not like you were expecting to form some kind of bond with her, but you thought she’d at least recognize you as someone decent instead of the predator she’s made you out to be. Maybe it’s unfair of you to expect decency from someone infamous for being intolerable. You sigh deeply through your nose and push yourself off the bed.

“I really should go. See you,” you say, exasperated, slinging your bag over your shoulder and leaving the room before Regina gets the chance to respond. You think she yells something at you, but you’re already halfway down the stairs. She doesn’t follow you.

It was probably a dick move to leave so suddenly, but you had to get out of there. You know you shouldn’t be surprised Regina doesn’t care about ruining your reputation, but you were starting to think she was all right. You roll your eyes. This is so dumb. You shouldn’t even be giving it second thought. This is just the way that it is now, whether you like it or not.

-

By the time you finish walking home, it’s already dark outside. There’s a pot of mac and cheese sitting on the stove, the light still left on in the kitchen. You guess your brother managed to figure it out.

You’re hungry, but so tired from not eating that all you want to do is lay down. You make your way down the hall to your room. You’re sure you’ll find your way to the kitchen sometime in the night.

You don’t bother to change as you lay down on your bed. It seems so insignificant compared to Regina’s giant princess bed that seemed more like laying on the world’s softest stuffed animal. Yours was like a rock in comparison.

You pull your cart out of your bra and take a couple hits, staring up at the dark ceiling. Everything’s already beginning to feel farther away, but it may just be the illusion of the dark. You can’t seem to get Regina off your mind. It was such a random thing to begin your junior year; you’d never imagined you’d fall victim to one of her rumors in such a devastating way. And then the whole smoking after school thing and now tutoring her. It almost felt like Regina wanted to spend time with you the way she always asks you to stay longer than you had to.

It felt rewarding to have her attention. You can kind of understand the dependence everyone at school has to it now. She’s charming in a way that lures people in, only to discard them after she gets what she wants. You’ve noticed the first few signs of Regina trying to do the same to you, but you’re not sure what you can offer her that she doesn’t already have. Either way, you have to be careful. She could just be trying to get more shit on you to spread around. You can’t fathom why; the worst thing you’ve ever done to her is avoid her.

And the fact she didn’t apologize is really starting to bother you. You feel it’s unfair to see someone every single day, smoke with them, tell them the little parts of your day, and then not even feel bad for turning them into an outcast. Maybe it’s on you for even expecting one. This is Regina George, after all. Even if she did treat you like a friend sometimes, which isn’t much better considering the way she treats Karen, Gretchen, and Cady.

Why you’re still thinking about this is beyond you. Maybe you’re not as immune to her manipulation as you thought. Whether it was positive or negative thoughts, you were still thinking about her. It was really starting to piss you off. Just the fact that you didn’t mind her company anymore was enough to make you mad.

You roll over and stick your nose in another blanket. The weed does its job at making you feel disconnected from your body and you’re thankful for it. This whole mess had you thinking way too much. It was stupid.

Maybe you’ll ask for an apology tomorrow.

[solarmorrigan]

They aren’t high, but they might as well be.

It’s so late that it’s early, sitting in those odd hours of motionless night when exhaustion throws a ridiculous filter over everything and it’s an effort not to laugh loud enough to alert Robin’s parents to the fact that there’s an unauthorized boy in her room.

She and Steve have been lying side by side on her bed for the last hour, both knowing they should probably go to sleep if they’re going to wake up with enough time for Steve to sneak out and actually drive home safely, but they’re not quite ready yet. Instead, they’re content to be pressed together, shoulder to ankle, hands intertwined between them, content to feel the other secure and nearby.

Robin lifts their hands and uncurls her fingers, spreading them open like a star and prompting Steve to do the same, until their hands are pressed flat together with their fingers outstretched.

“Your hands are bigger than mine,” Robin says, looking at the way her palm fits into Steve’s with room to spare and the way his fingers extend past hers by almost a whole knuckle.

“Probably because I’m bigger than you,” Steve says, also lazily gazing at the way their hands fit together.

“Yeah, but they’re, like, way bigger than mine,” Robin insists. “You have really big hands.”

Steve rolls his eyes. “They’re not that big. You just have stubby fingers.”

“Rude. You just have giant hands.”

“I do not.”

“Like mittens.”

“No.”

“Banana hands.”

“You are literally the only girl who has ever said something bad about the size of my hands.”

Robin smacks her free hand against Steve’s chest. “Ew.”

Steve is laughing. “You started it.”

“Lies,” Robin says, taking Steve’s hand in both of hers so she can continue examining it. “Why are your nails so nice?”

Steve watches as Robin traces the tips of her fingers over the even cuticles and neatly trimmed ends of his nails. “Because I take care of them, and I don’t bite them, unlike some people.”

“I never bite your nails,” Robin says, smiling as Steve groans dramatically.

“That was terrible. You’re terrible.”

“Nope, you love me.”

“I can love you even if you’re terrible.” Steve turns his hand so he can catch one of Robin’s and look it over for himself. “You’ve been biting your nails a lot lately.”

Robin shrugs. “Stressed,” is all she offers; she doesn’t really have to say much more for him to get it.

Steve frowns, threading his fingers back through hers and squeezing. “You used to paint them, didn’t you? Like, to help you remember not to chew on them so much?”

“I did, yeah,” Robin says thoughtfully. “It’s been a while since I’ve even thought about doing that.”

“You should do it again. Give your nails a chance to heal,” Steve says.

Robin hums, as if she has to think it over. “Only if you let me paint yours, too.”

And maybe it’s the fact that it’s after two a.m., but all Steve does is shrug and say, “Yeah, sure.”

Robin sits up on the bed like Dracula popping up out of his coffin, turning to stare at him with her bedhead flying wild around her face. “Seriously?”

“You want me to say no?” Steve asks.

“Well I didn’t expect you to just say yes!” Robin says in a hushed yell. “I thought I’d have to argue you down.”

Steve grins. “Go get your nail polish before I change my mind, Buckley.”

He doesn’t have to tell her twice. Robin swings her legs off the bed and goes to her dresser, digging through her makeup case and returning with a handful of black-capped bottles.

“Pick your poison, Harrington.” Robin gestures to the array of colors.

Steve is slow to sit up, stretching and groaning before he turns to sit cross-legged in front of Robin. “You pick. I’ve never had my nails painted before, so we’ll have to go with your expertise.”

“Hmm.” Robin clasps her fingers together under her chin, tapping her lips with her index fingers as if this is the most serious decision she’ll ever have to make. Finally, her hand flashes out and grabs one of the bottles, holding it up and wiggling it for Steve to see. “How about a little navy blue, sailor?”

Steve rolls his eyes, but he can’t tamp down his smile. “Why not?”

“Okay, gimme your hand.” Robin holds her hand out for Steve’s, palm up and fingers making grabby curls.

Steve puts out his left hand and lets Robin place it on her knee, fingers outstretched while he waits for Robin to shake the bottle of polish thoroughly and unscrew the cap.

“Try to hold still,” Robin instructs him, biting the tip of her tongue between her teeth in concentration as she applies the brush to his thumbnail.

Obligingly, Steve holds as still as possible, content to watch as Robin works her way from his thumb and onto his index finger, coating his nails in shining wet navy blue.

He pulls his hand away for a moment when Robin has to dip the brush back in the bottle for more polish, looks over her handiwork, and lets out a low whistle.

“Wow,” he says, putting his hand back down on Robin’s knee when she gestures for it. “You really suck at this.”

Robin lets out a surprised bark of laughter, narrowly avoiding streaking nail polish down the length of Steve’s finger. “Fuck off, I do not!”

“You kinda do, Rob,” Steve says, his voice full of warmth even as he denounces her skill with a brush.

“How would you even know?” Robin jibes. “You said you’ve never had your nails painted before.”

“I know the nail polish isn’t supposed to go over the edges of the nail,” Steve shoots back.

They both pause to look at the way the polish has been laid thick over the skin on either side of Steve’s nails and has even dribbled a little bit onto the tip of one of his fingers.

“Shut up. It’s a process,” Robin finally says, taking the brush to his ring finger.

“A process, huh?”

“Yes! You paint the nails, and then you use nail polish remover and, like, a Q-tip to clean up the edges.”

“Uh huh.”

“You’re just fussy, that’s all,” Robin pronounces, grinning at Steve’s little noise of offense.

“I am not fussy,” he insists.

“You kinda are, Steve,” Robin replies. “Anyway, I’d like to see you do a better job.”

“Deal,” Steve says, maybe a little too quickly for Robin’s liking. “I’ll do your nails next.”

“Well that, I have to see,” Robin says, putting the brush back into the bottle and motioning for him to switch hands.

True to her word, Robin quietly retrieves the nail polish remover and some Q-tips from the bathroom and neatens up her paintjob once she’s finished, and Steve appraises her work like a jeweler looking over and handful of gems.

“Not bad, Buckley,” he says, shrugging his lips.

Robin rolls her eyes. “What are you now, a fashion critic? Hurry up and paint my nails so I can make fun of you.”

Steve’s answering grin is unsettlingly sharp, but Robin still lets him pick the color. He settles on red—“To accent the blue, obviously”—and shakes the bottle before pulling the brush and starting on Robin’s left hand where it rests on his knee.

His strokes are smooth and even, not once straying over the edges of her nails, not even over the bitten, ragged ends, and he moves from one finger to the next with a kind of practiced ease.

“What the fuck!” Robin barely remembers to keep her voice down in her outrage. “Why are you good at this?”

Steve ducks his head, clearly holding in a laugh. “I used to paint Carol’s nails for her all the time.”

“Carol Perkins?” Robin asks, brows furrowed.

“Did I spend a lot of time with any other Carols?” Steve shoots her a look from beneath his lashes before turning back to his work.

“Why?”

Steve shrugs. “She tried to get Tommy to do it one day and he refused, so she asked me to do it instead, and… I dunno, I figured, why not? I did suck at it at first,” he admits. “But I think she just liked having someone’s focus on her for the time it took to do her nails. And I guess I just – like, it felt good, I guess. Taking care of someone else, even just in that little way. And I liked how the nail polish looked when I finally got it right.

“Any time we hung out at her house, she’d ask me to paint her nails for her, or she’d steal my mom’s nail polish if we were at mine. It was, like… our thing, I guess?”

For a moment, Robin sits in the knowledge that Steve and Tommy Hagan and Carol Perkins had actually been friends.

From the outside, the three of them had looked like a toxic hurricane of derision and unfairly nice bone structure; they were rarely seen without looks of condescending amusement or lounging around being too cool for everyone else. It had been easy to think of their arrangement as some kind of superficial bond of mutual bitchiness, but at the same time, everyone distantly knew that Steve and Tommy and Carol had been a package deal since at least middle school.

Tommy and Carol had been the only two people Steve routinely hung out with, now that Robin thinks about it. People from basketball and swim and other hangers-on came and went, but those two had been fixtures. They’d probably been his best friends.

And midway through Junior year, Steve had left them.

He’d realized they weren’t who he thought they were, or maybe he’d realized they weren’t who he wanted to be, but the fact is that he’d left behind the two people he’d known the longest and had stepped uncertainly forward without knowing if he’d have anyone at all after that.

For a while he’d had Nancy. Then had come Henderson and all the other rugrats – but as much as Steve loves them, that isn’t quite the same as friends your own age, is it?

But now, he has Robin.

And she’s going to make sure that’s worth something.

“I can’t believe I’ve had some kind of professional manicurist under my nose this whole time,” Robin laments, grinning at Steve when he glances up at her with a huff.

“I’m pretty sure you have to get paid to be a professional. Are you gonna pay me for my services?” he asks.

“I will pay you in love and affection,” Robin declares. “Money can’t buy you these things, Steve.”

“That’s convenient,” Steve shoots back.

“Isn’t it? And I’m going to paint your nails yellow next time,” Robin says.

Steve glances to the side, where Robin’s collection of nail polish sits. “You don’t have any yellow.”

“I’ll buy some.” Robin shrugs. “I think it would look good on you.”

“And you just assume I’m going to let you paint my nails again.” Steve raises an eyebrow at her as he dips the brush back in the bottle to rewet it for the last couple of nails.

“Yep,” Robin says easily.

Steve looks back down, like he really needs to focus that hard on getting the nail of her ring finger just right, but she can tell he’s biting down on a smile.

“Okay,” he finally says, quietly.

“Okay,” she echoes back, giving him a sleepy smile when he glances up.

It’s late, and it’s going to be even later by the time they can go to sleep without ruining their nails, and in fact they’re probably not going to get any sleep at all, but somehow, Robin doesn’t mind.

Even being sleep deprived together with Steve is better than anything she can think of doing apart.

[Prompt: Comparing hand sizes]

[luvyeni]

❛LOVE N’ DEVOTION❜ ( y. jeongin )

p. yandere!jeongin x yandere!reader w. 1.3k+

warnings? dark fic, toxic relationship, minor characters death, mentions of blood, oral sex ( m. receiving ), shower sex, rough sex, unprotected sex,

— 𖦹 ( both of you are willing to do crazy things to show your devotion for each other ) !

freaktober masterlist

you waited for the girl to walk away , excusing yourself , making your way over to the bar. “i'll have another margarita.” you asked the bar tender. “that will be 7.50.” he said. “i'll pay for it.” the boy handed over his card. “coming right up.”

you turned to boy leaning down , to where he could only hear. “she’ll die by the end of the night if she touches you again.” you whispered in jeongin's ear , anger and jealousy laced in your voice making the boy smirked. “really?” he loved seeing you like this , seeing how far he get you.

“and what about him.” He pointed to the guy across the bar who waiting for your return. “can i kill your date , if you kill mine.” the girl came back to the bar , just as the bartender , returned back with your drink. “your drink ma'am.” you thanked him , eyeing the boy as you walked away , still in earshot.

“innie.” you stopped dead in your tracks , jeongin taking notice of this. “innie who was that girl? do you know her?” the boy knew he should’ve chosen his next words wisely , but he couldn’t help himself. “no , just some girl.”

you bitterly made your way back to your table , ready for this date to be over.

jeongin watched you flirt extra hard with the guy , with a murderous glint in his eyes , how fucking dare that guy touch you like that , he’ll cut off every single one of his fingers for touching what’s his.

both of you knew you’d be here with other people , it’s the same routine – you break up , you find a random person to go on a date , knowing the other will show up , and at the end of the night both of you end up back at his house , covered in blood.

“jesus princess , all this blood.” he chuckled opening the door for you. “had the bitch not called you innie i may have let her live.” You took your heels off throwing them to the side. “keep it up and the cops will be sure to find you.” He closed the door.

“where is he?” he pointed to his garage. “i killed him already , he didn’t put up much of a fight.” you shrugged , “too bad he was cute.” he scoffed , his bloody hand wrapping around your throat , slamming you against the wall.

“princess you may have a few loose screws in your head , but you aren’t stupid , say some stupid shit like that again and i'll cut your tongue out.” he growled , squeezing. “you understand.” You nodded , and he let you go , you coughed. “now be a good girl and get on your knees.”

you obeyed , looking up at him through your lashes. “you’re hard even after killing someone.” You undid his jeans , letting them pool at his ankles , pulling at his boxer , his cock springing out , hitting his stomach. “says the slut covered in blood about to suck my cock.”

you took him into your mouth , but he quickly grabbed your hair. “if you bite me , i'll kill you.” he slowly moved your head , letting go while you kept going , bobbing your head up and down. “f-fuck that’s it suck my cock.” he groaned.

“if you don’t speed up , im gonna fuck your throat.” he grunted , but you ignored his request. “you’re really being a brat tonight.” he yanked on your hair , keeping it still as he thrusted into your mouth. “is it that girl -fuck- is it what she said?” he didn’t even let you answer before he , came with a grunt. “ngh , fuck!”

he let you go , spit and his seed dripping down your chin. “don’t mention that bitch.” you spat bitterly. “even her blood is making me angry.” he smirked , you truly were just as crazy as he was.

you weren’t always like this , you were once normal – that was until jeongin , he did this to you. when you first started dating , he was nice , but then as time went off , he began to slowly remove people out of your life , gaslighting you into thinking they were bad for you , and that you only had him.

you didn’t know how dangerous he was until one night he came home covered in the blood of some random guy he thought was looking at you. that’s when you should’ve left , called the cops , but you didn’t and everything just went to hell.

he'd find ways to break you , little by little , until those no longer worked , then he up the ante. while you continued to stay at his house , no one to go to , only having him , and he knew that – that’s when the girls came in.

he’d bring home random girls , not to sleep with them , but to put fear into your heart , that he could find someone better , when he knew he couldn’t , he was addicted to you , he just wanted to see what you’d do.

eventually , that fear boiled over and turned to anger , and that’s when you killed for the first time , and jeongin knew he had you forever , you were tied to him , you loved him and was devoted to him so much , that you’d kill just to be with him.

“you get so angry princess.” he pressed your naked wet body against the shower door , the blood mixed from your bodies making it’s way down the drain. “it’s so sexy.”

he held the flesh of your cheeks , spreading them , lining his cock with your hole. “fuck such a messy pussy , i can just-" you moaned as he slammed into you. “slide right in.”

he pulled out , pushing himself back into you. “fu-fuck jeongin!” you screamed as he fucked you , you gripped on to the side. “harder.” he slapped your ass. “you truly are my little pain slut.” he reached around squeezing you boobs , rutting his hips into you. “my crazy little pain slut.”

He pulled out of your hole , flipping you around , holding you up against the wall , wrapping your legs around his waist , filling you back up with his cock. “innie!” your nails raked down his arm , scratching his back.

“fuck.” he hissed , his hand once again coming up to your neck , his thrust hitting deeper. “my crazy girl , you’d kill for me wouldn’t you.” he squeezed. “y-you know i would.” you managed to get out. “say it then." he said. “say you’d kill for me.”

“fu-fuck innie , im gonna cum!” you screamed. “hold it , you’re not cumming until you say it.” You whined. “sh-shit , i will kill for you innie.” you cried tears spilling down your face. “good girl , you can cum.” you gripped his shoulders leaving more marks as you came.

he didn’t stop once you came , his thrust became more erratic , he was close to cumming himself. “you don't have to worry princess, im -fuck- im all yours , how many people do I have to kill to prove it to you.” he groaned. “i'll do it , i'll kill anyone I have to.” he felt the band snap in his stomach , cumming.

he let you down , holding you up due to your jelly legs. he helped you wash the rest of the blood off your bodies , turning the shower off. he carried your body to the bed , both of you not bothering to put on clothes.

“you have to get rid of his body.” you said. “i will later.” he wanted to wait for you to go to sleep. “you shouldn’t bring them back here anymore , im tired of cleaning up blood.” you whined. “i'll do it this time crazy girl.” you pouted. “don’t call me crazy , you’re just as crazy.” he chuckled.

“whatever you say darling.”

©LUVYENI

[seresinhangmanjake]

Stolen Angel - Part 5

Demon!Jake Seresin x reader

Summary: You thought you were having a one-night stand with some random, normal guy. Turns out he’s a winged, demon-like stalker who has been obsessed with you for years.

Warnings/Notes: Jake is a little dark. Kidnapping. Manipulation. Obsessive behavior. Eventual smut and happy stuff. I’m sure there are typos. This used to be a different fic for August Walker, so if you see it, it’s fine. I wrote that one too.

Words: 3550

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4

JAKE POV

Jake sighs at the knock on his door and sits up in his bed. It’s too early. Last night was long, watching you struggle to not verbally defy his every attempt to help you. But your wing was inflamed, which would soon lead to your back becoming inflamed, and he knows you’re intelligent but is it so hard to understand that not taking care of the injury could mean infection? Being here does not make you immune to such ailments and yet you puffed and huffed and barely held your tongue at his cleaning the area and applying a bandage with ointment. And just when you’d had a conversation with him about you being good. Terribly disappointing. You better shape up if you intend to get what you want. 

“What, Javy?” Jake calls at the second knock. 

Javy enters Jake’s room and leans against the door after closing it behind him. “So? You taking her?” he asks. 

“Possibly,” Jake says, throwing his legs over the side of the bed. “There are stipulations, but she’s determined. She’ll do whatever she has to to get there.”

Javy raises a brow. “Does that explain her cozying up to you yesterday?”

A slight smirk sneaks onto Jake’s face. ‘Cozying up’ is definitely one way to describe what you were doing the day before, although your actions were nowhere close to how affectionate you’re capable of being. There is plenty of passion in that body of yours that a few soft touches don’t do justice, but for now Jake will take what he can get. 

“It does,” Jake confirms with a nod. “She’s my clever little angel, but manipulative attempt or not, it’s not like I’m going to push her away.”

“Oh no, of course not,” Javy snorts. “You? Do the respectful thing?” With a shake of his head, he lets out a low whistle to which Jake rolls his eyes. The sarcasm in his friend’s tone is wildly unappreciated.

“Do you honestly expect any better of me?”

“Not these days,” Javy says, “but is it so horrible of me to want you to see the error of your decisions and change? When I offered you a life here you were a different man.”

A different man. A weaker man. A man who had nothing left to live for. 

Losing everything he once cared about—that is what changed him, but who’s to say the man he is today isn’t who he was always meant to be? Maybe it burrowed inside of him long ago and was waiting for the encouragement to expose itself. And what is so wrong about that? That doesn't make him a bad man. 

He was a man who was missing the drive and purpose he needed. But then—despite being under the cruelest of circumstances—he found it. And when you find purpose you have to take hold of it and claim it any way you can before it’s ripped away from you. If Javy still can’t understand that then it must be the type of thing you have to live for yourself in order to grasp how it feels.

Jake’s eyes contain a challenge against his friend’s stare as he leans forward to brace his elbows on his knees and clasp his hands. “You try having Fate fuck you over, and then we’ll see the kind of man you become,” he says.

Javy sighs and crosses his arms. “I’m not denying the poor timing of your first meeting, but you coped with that for years, and now that you’ve snapped–”

“I haven’t snapped,” Jake snaps.

“Yes, you have. She was moving up in her life, finding some happiness, trying to make some friends at a new job, and then you took her,” Javy tells him, but not to chastise. That lecture was one Jake received weeks ago and Javy knows another won’t alter what has been done. “And you can’t keep her in The Tower forever. When this catches up with you—because it will—what do you intend to do?”

“She will love me by then.”

“You’re hoping she will love you by then,” Javy counters, “And you’re hoping when questioned, she’ll lie for you.”

Jake groans and shoots to his feet, running a hand through his hair. Gesturing in the general direction of your room, he says, “If she loves me then she’ll be lying for both of us because she’ll know it’s the only way we can be together.”

“And if she doesn't?”

“I'm not entertaining ‘if she doesn't’,” Jake says harshly. “She will. I’ll get rid of that stubbornness and she’ll remember why she wanted me in the first place.”

Javy pushes up from his leaned position, nearing the blond. “She wanted you because the two of you had some kind of carnal pull to one another, but–”

“It’s more than that,” Jake stops him. “We share more than that. She just refuses to see it.”

But you will. You’ll come to your senses. He knows that it’s more than sex, but it’s because of that sex that he believes something in you felt him over the years even though you did not see him. That’s why it was so easy to come together that night. You don’t sleep with just anyone. You’re picky and careful, as you should be, but you showed no reservations when giving yourself to him. You weren’t timid when he stripped you of your clothes; you were too focused on ripping him out of his. You weren’t embarrassed by your sweet moans and pretty cries. You were comfortable around him, and you will be again. 

When Jake realizes Javy hasn’t spoken, he shoves his thoughts aside and pays closer attention to the look directed his way. It’s a medley of emotions. Skepticism and concern. Cautious hope and pity and acceptance. Acceptance of what, it’s hard to determine. Impending doom, likely, since Javy’s so sure of its inevitability.

Finally, Javy blinks. His lips stretch into a thin line, then he says, “Be smart about this, Jake.” 

And Jake replies, “I’m always smart.”

“You're not,” Javy has no shame in telling him. “That's the problem.”

—

READER POV

“You can’t speak to anyone from your past, you can’t be seen by anyone from your past, you have to stay in my sight at all times, and you can’t do anything that would jeopardize our ability to return here on time,” Jake says. “You break any of these rules and I drag you back before midnight.”

Raising a brow, you cross your arms over your chest. “You think I can’t manage that? I’ve complied with everything you’ve asked of me for two whole weeks.” 

Everything down to accepting his cupping of your cheek one night as he nearly kissed you. He hadn’t though, and his reasons for pulling back instead of taking what he wanted as he’s so used to doing robbed you of four hours of sleep.

“I wouldn’t put it past you to go rogue,” he says. “But you can’t. There are actual consequences I can’t protect you from.”

Yes, you know. He has mentioned that often. “Consequences, Angel. There are consequences to not following the rules.” For the last couple of weeks, it has felt like hours upon hours of the same droning on, the same lesson as if your short-term memory is flawed. But then he’d thrown in “It's your first time, and there’s a chance you’ll forget everything I’ve told you the minute you touch foot down there. You’ll be tempted to break them.” 

That was what finally struck a cord of concern.

Of course, it had crossed your mind to break them, even though you’d known of Jake’s fate when he had done the same, but if he had to warn you of the temptation, you wondered how tempting it would really be. Would you be spending your precious, limited time there miserable because of the invisible chains on your wrists and ankles and the gag in your mouth as you try to resist the desperation to bond with the life you left behind?

“How tempted?” you had asked. 

You were taken aback by one look from him. A harshness was in the green, but you are no fool, and you could see exactly what it was concealing. A memory—pain. 

“Incredibly,” he’d told you. “At least, I was. And I paid for it.”

You hadn’t responded, but you kept his words in the back of your mind, ultimately deciding to trust in your strength. It was either that or risk never seeing home again, and that wasn't, and isn’t, an option for you. 

“I’m not going to do anything, Jake,” you swear. 

He peers into your eyes a little too long, but you let him search for the lie that isn’t there until he’s satisfied. He blinks and then gives a sharp nod. “Good,” he says. “Then close your eyes.”

“What?”

“Close them,” he repeats. “You don’t need to know how to get where we’re going.”

Another thing to comply with. Rolling your eyes, you drop your arms to your sides. Jake pulls a blindfold out of his jeans pocket and folds it in thirds. 

“Seriously?”

He looks up and steps closer. “Close, your, eyes,” he instructs again.

With a sigh you do as he says, then he wraps the fabric around your head, tying a little knot in the back. 

“This is–” Stupid, you were going to say, but you’re cut off by the yelp that escapes your throat when you’re suddenly lifted into his arms, your legs and wings draped over his forearms. 

“Hold on Angel,” he says. 

Your hands clasp behind his neck. “Yea, no kidding.”

When he shoots up into the air, you have to tuck your head against his t-shirt to block out the rush and whirl of wind that’s quickly encompassing you. It’s all too fast, the pressure much too extreme that you feel as if you’ve gained thirty pounds in ten seconds. It’s the initial take-off of the rollercoasters at the theme park you went to as a child. The kind of feeling that locks your limbs in place. 

However, it’s not long that you’re going up before you begin to fall back down at a speed that suggests the man holding you can’t fly and you’re about to greet the end of your life. The sharp change in movement twists and curls your insides. Your lungs are confused, unsure whether inhaling or exhaling would better suit you at the moment. You don’t know, so you don’t breathe. 

Jake lands with a thud and sets you down on wobbly legs. One large hand wraps around your upper arm; the other slips the blindfold over your head and back into his pocket. You’re well-hidden behind a large tree as your eyes adjust to the bright neon lights that bleed from the city night.

Home. You’re home. You’re at the far end of a sidewalk by the docks that no one visits after six o’clock in the evening, but it’s still home, and you already feel yourself being sucked in by the central bustle of bodies and cars. 

You take a step forward, much weaker than you intended, and Jake’s grip on you tightens. 

“Not yet,” he says. “You need to shed your wings.” 

That detail had escaped you, the excitement too overpowering. But you keep that excitement from showing on the outside, just as you had when he’d told you a few days ago that removing the wings was possible for you, too.

Standing taller, you prepare yourself for more instructions.

“Close your eyes again,” he begins, his voice a deep vibration in your ear. “Clear your mind. Create an image of your wings and the feathers plucking free, falling to the ground one at a time until you have no more. Picture the bone and cartilage crumbling,” he says. “And keep doing that until you feel the loss of the weight.”

It takes at least a full minute, but you’re lighter. When you look down, your feathers coat the ground, a few layered with his. Like ash and snow. 

“Good,” he says, but his tone doesn’t match the praise. It’s the slightest bit wounded as if he’s grieving something he held dear. 

You turn your head. Your eyes flick to his and you find them glued to your back—your back which is now bare of the one thing that shows the world you’re something other than human. 

His Adam's apple bobs. “Let’s go,” he says. 

“Where can we?”

“Anywhere that keeps you from running into someone that would recognize you or would’ve been concerned about your sudden absence.”

That definitely knocks out work, the old late-night cafe you used to frequent, the park on third—too small. But as far as you know, everything else is fair game. And if it’s not, you’re sure Jake won’t hesitate to inform you.

—

The temptation he’d warned you about isn’t as aggressive as you anticipated. It’s there, for sure, but you don’t find yourself itching to be bold. There’s no one you wish to see, and you skirt the perimeters of the locations you choose because of the thought that you might fuck up and give him reasons not to bring you back in the future.

He should be thrilled with your behavior. He should be riding one of his ego trips from getting you to do what he wants without additional scolding, but that’s not what’s happening. Instead, he’s worse by the hour. 

Occasionally his eyes light up when you smile or chuckle at the places and things you haven’t seen for the month that has felt like a year, but between your grins and laughs, his face hasn’t once failed to fall. 

He has taken to trailing behind you. If both hands are not in his pockets it is because one is running through his hair or down his face. To your statements, he hums. To your questions, he mutters answers. He hates it, you realize. All of it. Almost as much as you hate the place he has forced you to exist in ever since he took you.

His mood is only exacerbated by your desire to go to your apartment.

“Can you hold this?” you ask as you raise the window. “Won’t stay up, and maintenance ignored all of my requests.”

Jake nods, placing his hand on the base of the sill so you can ease yourself through the opening. You do the same for him as he steps off the fire escape onto the ragged carpet of your living room floor. 

You take in the space, and it’s so…weird. Not a thing has shifted from the place you left it. The only additions left out of the memory you’ve kept in your mind are the layer of dust coating every surface and the slip of paper under your front door with Eviction Warning written in red lettering. And the smell. It doesn’t smell like you remember. You’re not immediately soaked in the scent of lavender essence left over from the half-burnt candle on the side table.

“Feels like I’ve been gone forever,” you say. You look over your shoulder at Jake. “Does time move differently there and I just didn’t notice?”

His hands are back in his pockets. His eyes are tired. “No, Angel,” he says.

Your sigh fades into a hum. 

As you move about the room, you measure it all with your eyes.

Your couch. You always sat on the right. That cushion is more worn than the other two. 

The lampshade is still crooked from when you last changed the lightbulb. Its poor alignment had caused a slight burn mark in the material from the shade leaning against the heat of the bulb, and yet, rather than straighten it out, you had twisted it on its diagonal axis so the mark faced the wall.

The TV remote is nowhere in sight, of course, because you were never the best at remembering where you put it down; a habit so frustrating you’re tempted to hunt for it now. 

Your coffee table still has the scratch in the middle from when you’d dropped your mug onto the wood, shattering it to pieces. That had pissed you off. You’d just bought it from the flea market.

A mug—you’d left one out that morning. You turn your head to your kitchen where it still sits on the counter. 

You walk over and grab it. There’s a coffee ring in the bottom, so you take it to the sink and wash it out, then flip it over to dry on a dishcloth. You weren’t a fan of leaving dishes scattered about, even for half a day, but you don’t know why it ever mattered. Since moving in, no one had entered this place but you, and well…him. 

Suddenly, something deep and thick descends upon you. Though the space around you appears to have frozen in time from the moment you disappeared, there are things that did not freeze along with it that you can’t ignore.

Like the food in your fridge and the special chocolate cookies in your cabinet that the grocery store rarely had in stock. Rotten and stale. What a waste. 

There’s a plant in your bathroom—a little one that relied on your sense of responsibility to keep it alive. It sits on a shelf in a dark purple pot you’d found on sale and now brittle leaves surely litter the tiles. 

And, oh god, the cat. You used to leave a bowl of tuna out for the stray cat that climbed the stairs to paw at your window. What about him? Is he ok? Did he give up after being ignored? How long did that take? Did he feel abandoned? Does he miss you?

Bracing your hands on the counter, your head falls forward. You close your eyes and take a breath, and then you open them and—Fuck, there’s a cheerio on the floor. You forgot the damn cheerio; that tiny ring of processed wheat from breakfast that has been hanging out here in limbo wondering if it’ll be trashed or devoured by ants because you were running late that morning and told yourself you’d throw it out later but you didn’t and so there’s a fucking cheerio on your floor. 

You can’t look at it, but then you don’t know where to look, or what to do. You don’t dare go into your bedroom. The sheets will be rumpled. Your underwear will be wherever it landed when it was taken off your body and tossed aside.

Shit, the laundry! You forgot to take it out of the washing machine. Mildew probably grew in the creases and folds. They'll have to go through the cycle again. You'll need detergent. You're out of detergent—used the last of it on the load that needs to be rewashed. Your favorite t-shirts are mixed in there somewhere. But it’s fine. You’ll do a quick wash, quick dry, quick fold, and put them in the drawer where they belong. How long could that take? An hour? Two? You have enough time, right? And while you're at it you really should set some tuna out and get rid of the spoiled food and fix the lampshade and find the remote and apologize to the plant and–

“We can pretend, Angel,” Jake whispers from behind you, making you jolt in your spot. You didn’t hear his approach—he keeps doing that—and he’s so close that his breath flutters wisps of your hair. “Forget everything, for a bit. Be the way we were that night.”

His disruption sidetracks you from the laundry, the cheerio, the cat, the plant, the food. For a second, you can barely process his words, but it doesn’t take long for the confusion to sort itself out.

You swallow. “I thought I wasn’t allowed to be human anymore,” you whisper, reminding him of what he has drilled into your brain again and again and again.

“You’re not,” he says. Then his arms are flanking your sides, palms pressing into the edge of the countertop. “But we look the part, don’t we?” Hot air is on your neck. You think you can hear his heart thumping. “Just tonight. Just here.”

Just here. Here, the last place you were before he made you into the creature you are. Here, the last place you can say that you were entirely you. Here, the last place you spent a happy moment. Your final happy moment. A moment that included him, back when you believed you were bringing home some guy. Just some guy. A beautiful guy. A human guy. 

You liked that human guy.

You miss that human guy.

Sometimes you wish he'd show up again. Save you and promise you it was all a nightmare.

“Why?” you ask.

“Don’t ask why,” he answers. “Just tell me yes.”

And because you don’t want to go back to thinking about what you’ve lost; because you’re uneasy and overwhelmed and numb and weak now that you're realizing home really isn’t home anymore but a ghostly echo of who you were, you don’t possess the mental wherewithal to care about your decisions. All you want is a memory—a good memory—within your reach. 

So you turn yourself right around, and you kiss him.

[glow-worms-are-believers]

Catwoman's new sidekick (dc x dp)

This is very loosely inspired by this prompt. Enjoy the blurb:)

Danny didn’t really like guns. Not the ecto-weapons his parents made, but the actual bullet-filled guns. He knew how to use them, as that was what his parents had based themselves off of to create their own ectoplasm-powered version of it, but he didn’t like them. So when he’d found one not only loaded, but with the safety off in his apartment’s garbage bin, he’d plan to take it and go throw it in the river to make sure nobody would get to use it. Danny wasn’t exactly shocked to see it, this was Gotham after all, but it was a bit of a nasty surprise to say the least. It wasn’t like it could really hurt him anymore, it seemed halfas had a sort of built-in instinct for going intangible (which had explained why the Nasty-Burger-explosion-that-never-happened hadn’t affected him despite being taken completely by surprise).

Not to mention he was already in a bad mood at the news that Vlad was in the city right now for some rich guy nonsense, which Danny was 100% sure meant the fruitloop was going to come by to bother him at some point in the next few days.

“Hello, Daniel,” came Vlad’s voice from behind him as if summoned.

“Get away from me, you creep,” Danny answered, not turning around. Instead, he started walking in the opposite direction.

“Is that anyway to talk to your unckie Vlad?” The man said with his smarmy tone. “And I came by such a long way to come see you.”

“You saw me, now you can leave.” Danny didn’t bother turning his head as Vlad caught up so they were walking side by side.

The billionaire tsked as he looked around. “It’s such a shame you live in such a poor neighbourhood. You know the offer to pay for your tuition is still open.”

“Not in a million years,” Danny answered dryly.

“You’re just as stubborn as my dear Madeleine used to be,” Vlad sighed and Danny felt the disgust twist his features into a grimace.

“Still being a creepy disgusting old loner, Vlad?” Danny snarked. “How many cats are you on, number 5?”

There was flash of anger in the older man’s eye before he smirked. “And how is dear Danielle these days, it’s been so long since she came by. I think she’ll be due for another meltdown soon.”

On impulse, Danny raised the gun, knowing full well the man would go intangible faster than any bullet and pointed it at Vlad. “Don’t you dare touch her.”

“Oh please, Daniel,” Vlad scoffed. “What are you going to do, shoot me?”

“Maybe,” Danny retorted.

“It wouldn’t change anything,” Vlad dismissed.

“Might make me feel better,” Danny said even as he lowered the gun a bit, knowing it wouldn’t do anything.

Vlad knew this just as well, and he sneered before turning his back to Danny and walking away with a parting shot. “I always get what I want, Daniel. Whether it’s through you or her.”

The gun that Danny had lowered slightly now came back up. He was so tempted to empty the stupid thing at Vlad, no matter if it would all pass through him. Before he could do anything though, a voice from above sounded.

“He’s not worth it, kid.”

Danny looked up to find the masked face of Catwoman peering down on him.

“He deserves worse than this,” Danny said, mind still on the temptation of shooting at Vlad’s intangible back. This was a deserted part of the city, it wasn’t like it would hurt anyone else.

“I promise there are better ways to make him pay,” Catwoman answered.

Danny scoffed bitterly. “Vlad’s so rich, he can pay off anyone and cover up any scandal I could think of.” And if money didn’t work, there was always straight-up overshadowing innocent bystanders.

The masked woman hesitated for a while before she called down determinately. “Look, get rid of the gun, and I promise I’ll help you make him pay.”

“Really?” Danny wasn’t too sure what that entailed but anything that would hinder Vlad was a go for him. “You promise?”

“I do,” she stated with conviction. “But you have to lose the gun.”

“Yeah, ok,” Danny said. He was going to do it anyways, but if she wanted it gone even faster, Danny wasn’t going to argue.

Selina watched as her new sidekick dropped off the gun into the river. It fell in with a splash that had something in her curling comfortably. Maybe Bruce was really rubbing off on her if she was picking up strays

But, Selina had a good feeling about this. Talking a kid out of murder had been how Batman had gotten his first Robin, after all.

[millervrse]

𝐓𝐄𝐀𝐒𝐄𝐑! BY THE COFFEE MACHINE ! javier peña x reader

summary: Javier Peña doesn’t like you. You’re too nice, too bubbly, and you get on his last nerve. He didn’t get how anybody in this line of work could be so goddamn cheery all the time. Though aside from your, in his eyes, forced and fake kindness, you had no bad features, and perhaps that, added to your beauty, is what ticked him off so much. Could he learn to like you the more time passes, or would you do this dance of hatred forever?

pairing: javier peña x afab!reader

warnings, notes: EVENTUAL 18+ smut, reader has a bit of an established backstory, a few uses of y/n but only when necessary, r! has a dog, references to narcos and thus real life people and occurrences (pablo escobar, the cartel, etc), ENEMIES TO LOVERS but it’s one sided because javier hates r!, r! has an established personality, grumpy x sunshine

word count: 500-

LYN SPEAKING! so this is an already finished piece that i wrote nearly a year ago, a word count of 20k+ to boot! holy fuck! this is a series from javier’s pov, though if people are interested, i’d like to throw in more chapters from reader’s pov using second person, especially for smut as the original piece was written as an sfw work. if people like this, i’m down to share much, much more! anyway, enjoy this little prologue. lyn out!

edit: read the next part HERE!

My name is Javier Peña, and I work as an agent for the DEA in Bogotá, Columbia.

I’ve never been a commitment kind of guy. Not unless we’re talking about work, anyways. For the longest time, the only thing I’d ever call myself loyal to was just that: Work, with a side of coffee and cigarettes.

And tracking down a Columbian drug lord, but we’ll talk about that later.

I’ve seen this job do a lot of things to people. I’ve seen it better them as a person, and I’ve seen it tear them to shreds even more. I’ve seen it end up in friendships, just as much as it ends in divorce.

And I’m no genius, but if you look at the odds, the latter happens way more often.

I never would’ve guessed that, of all the goddamn people in the DEA, I would be one of the ones to experience the phenomenon that is this job bringing people together.

If you think the odds of people in the DEA either making friendships, or divorcing, or even becoming enemies is low, the odds of them falling in love is ridiculously lower. It’s almost laughable.

And let’s just say: Javier Peña was not the kind of guy who those odds would fall upon.

A year ago today, I was bullying the woman who would soon become my girlfriend, and hopefully, one day, my wife. Now that I look back on it, it doesn’t seem palpable that it even happened at all.

That same woman is in my line of vision now, playing with her dog as they run around in front of me. She’s laughing as she throws a frisbee around, chasing the Shepard mix as it runs after it. From time to time, she’ll turn back to me, flashing that brilliant smile of hers that made me fall in love with her in the first place.

“Hey, Peña! Are you coming over here or what?” she yells at me with that witty sass that’ll always bring me to my knees.

Or, in this case, my feet.

I get up from where I lay in the sand, shaking my head at her as I approach. She looks even more gorgeous than usual as she holds her hands on her hips, hanging fire for me as the sun is setting behind her.

I don’t like getting sappy. I didn’t like getting sappy, I guess. But every love with no end, surely has a beginning.

Allow me to give you ours.

if you made it to the end of this, i really hope you liked it! please consider leaving a reblog, as they help my work immensely <3 kisses!

[peachpitlover]

Head Over Heels

After a movie night at the Chateau, Y/n wakes up with a migraine.

Word Count: 1,159

Pairings: JJ Maybank x Reader

My Masterlists

~~~

Y/n wakes up to a sharp, pulsating pain in her left eye and a dull ache on the top of her head accompanying it. She’s sprawled out on John B’s couch next to Kiara, Pope on the other couch, John B and Sarah in his room, and JJ in the guest room. She reaches for her phone that’s laying on the floor charging. She squints and stifles a pained groan at the dim light emitting from the screen. Thursday, June 6 2:31 AM. As she sits up, that piercing pain shoots up from her eye and spreads up to the top of her head and down the back of her neck. With ears ringing aggressively and colorful squiggles clouding her vision, Y/n makes her way to the bathroom as quickly and quietly as possible. Closing the door behind her, she drops to her knees and holds her hair up with one hand. She really didn’t mean to wake everyone up, but how quiet can you be when throwing up?

Sarah was the first to wake up, she walked out to the bathroom and knocked on the door.

“Give me a sec,” Y/n squeaked out as she tried to catch her breath.

Sarah knows all about Y/n’s migraines, they started when she was so young; too young to have to deal with pain like she has. She slowly opened the door and crouched to rub Y/n’s back.

It wasn’t long before John B and JJ came out of their rooms too, at this point Y/n was lying on her back in the bathroom, her legs resting out the doorway of the small bathroom and in the hallway. They both exchanged a confused look as you hadn’t had anything to drink last night.

“Baby, do you have any pain killers?” Sarah whispered as she stood from her position on the bathroom floor.

“No, I finished the Advil a couple days ago. What happened?”

“She has a migraine, she gets really bad ones. I’m gonna go wake up Kie and ask her.”

JJ turned the bathroom light on and she let out a small whimper, turning her head and pulling her arm over her face.

“Let’s get you to bed,” he whispered as he crouched and pulled her arm up around his neck while John B slid his hand under her back to help her stand. Once she was standing, JJ put his hand around her back and hooked his other arm under her legs to carry her to his room.

“Kie has some tylenol in her car, she’ll bring it in a second. Do you want some water?” Sarah asked as she peeked her head into the room.

“If you don’t mind,” Y/n asked as she settled on the bed. Just then, Pope made his way over to see what was going on, Y/n felt so embarrassed and guilty for waking everyone up. As Kiara came in with tylenol and a bottle of water, John B helped Y/n sit up.

“I’m sorry for waking everyone up,” she whispered.

“That’s ok, we know you’re hurting,” Sarah smiled.

“It’s no big deal,” Pope added in.

Y/n was so grateful for her amazing friends. But right now, all she wanted was to sleep off the pain. Everyone went their separate ways again, leaving JJ at the doorway and Y/n feeling guilty for kicking him out.

As JJ stepped out slightly, beginning to bid her goodbyes, Y/n piped up sheepishly: “JJ? Will you please lie down with me?”

The truth is, JJ likes Y/n. Like a lot. There have been no hookups since she came around as no one peeked his interest but her. And Y/n always finds herself giddy when JJ makes a flirty joke as he often does, her heart and stomach fluttering when his skin brushes hers. So she’s taking advantage of the moment and asking for some comfort, and how can JJ say no to the girl he can’t get off his mind?

“Of course,” he smiled. He walked to the other side of the bed and got under the covers with her and waited for her to make the first move to cuddle. If that’s what she wanted, that is. She turned over and looked at him with tired eyes and he was suddenly so aware of how much bare skin was available to his hands. Wearing only a small, cropped tank top with spaghetti straps and loose cotton sleep shorts.

She could barely open her eyes, she wasn’t tired at all. But her body often shuts down due to the excruciating pain: when she has a migraine, Y/n could sleep on and off for days on end. She reached her hand up and sunk her fingers into her hair as she curled her hair around her middle and pointer fingers and pulled slightly, trying to relieve some of the unbearable pain. Though, she couldn’t hold that up for long as her body was so weak.

“Don’t do that,” JJ frowned, though she couldn’t see much in the dark. “You’re gonna hurt yourself.”

“It helps,” she croaked out.

He took it upon himself to untangle her hand from her hair and replaced it with his. But instead of pulling at her hair like she did, he scratched gently at the spot she had been trying to relieve. With that, her eyes fluttered closed and she ever so slightly shuffled closer to him. After a while, her breathing slowed and her hand clutching JJ’s favorite blanket went limp, he resorted to running his fingers through her hair; something he often found himself wanting to do.

He stopped once he was sure she was asleep, but as soon as he pulled his hand away, she mumbled something he couldn’t understand and rolled over onto her stomach, her hand grabbing onto his bicep.

“It hurts,” she sniffled.

“I know it does, I wish I could do more to help you, do you want to put your head on me?”

Without a word, Y/n shifted closer and laid her head on his chest and draped her arm over his bare stomach, like she had been waiting for him to ask. He could feel tears dripping onto his skin and he felt so useless in that moment: “I know, I gotcha,” he whispered. His hand slid under her shirt and began rubbing along the expanse of her back in an attempt to soothe her to sleep. He was lightly scratching at the skin and she hummed in pleasure.

She did eventually find sleep with JJ’s soft breathing in her ear and the back scratches she didn’t know she would love so much. His heart fluttered at the sight of his sleeping friend on his chest, and with a kiss to the top of her head, JJ’s eyes closed and he drifted off to sleep with warmth surrounding him.

[brittle-doughie]

No Dice (Ancient Cookies)

White Lily WILL throw hands with Clotted

The Ancients were protective of you, incredibly so. Anything that had to do with you will always have their input, and that included your Soul Jam. It wouldn’t be right of them to treat a long time friend of theirs with the upmost friendliness and respect.

So when Clotted Cream Cookie turned to you if you were willing to share your Soul Jam, hope and anticipation in his eyes that your generosity will extend its hands to his and the Republic’s aid, you hesitated with your answer.

To give up your Soul Jam?

Something you swore to protect and keep away from evil?

The thing that makes you who you are?

The very thing that symbolizes the Light that you were bestowed upon?

This slight hesitation was enough to get the other Ancients’ ire as they raised strong objections, how dare this whelp try to take advantage of your giving nature, you give cookies everything and they would just keep taking, taking, TAKING. They understood it was in your nature and they held no lasting ill will towards cookies who asked, but to see you give a complete stranger your Soul Jam…

Something they swore to safeguard with their lives, a precious item that makes a cookie, YOU, truly alive, to see you even contemplate handing it over only brought their hidden rage towards the Consul to greater heights.

Pure Vanilla pleaded with you that there had to be another way you can lend your hand to other cookies, you always do. But please don’t hand over your Soul Jam, it pained him to see you willing to give everything to help, so in your stead, let him give his Soul Jam instead!

Hollyberry got protective, getting between you and Clotted. You had been through too much to just hand it over and Clotted’s attempts to get your sympathy to accept made her grouchy! Your kindness is not a weakness that Clotted could exploit, if he wanted to get to you, he’s got an angry Hollyberry to deal with first!

Dark Cacao is the angriest of them all, he’s fully aware of your giving nature and to see this WHELP trying to take advantage of that and even having the audacity to try and appeal to your soft-heartedness to get your Soul Jam…it made him pissed beyond all belief. He had to hold himself back for your sake, otherwise this Clotted Cream Cookie would be crumbles from where he stood

Golden Cheese Cookie huffed in annoyance, this cookies dared to ask something that high to an ancient cookie like you?! She claims to never act on a whim, but in this case, she couldn’t help herself voicing her stance against Clotted Cream’s proposal. With how she is in comparison to you, she had to step in and protect you from such foul deals like this. She didn’t want to lose you…just like how lost her kingdom, she wouldn’t know what she’d do if you were crumbs and dust in her hands…

White Lily Cookie oh man….if you thought Pure Vanilla’s response is bad, White Lily is worse. As soon as attention was brought to you by Clotted Cream Cookie, White Lily had already rushed to your side, holding your hand tight with hers.

She’ll use any excuse in the book to have you refuse this cookie’s offer, you already give so much and she loves you for your warming benevolence…she simply can’t allow cookies to take advantage of you like this.

Just say the words and she’ll poison Clotted with her lilies. She’ll do it with no hesitation for you.

[upat4amwiththemoon]

i need some wanda angst ANYTHING PLSS

Wretched mirrors

Summary: Mom, are your arms open tonight?

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x daughter!reader

Warnings: angst, cursing, complicated mother-daughter relationship, bad mental health

Word count: 2259

a/n: you asked for it

Tags: @thought-of-you-and-me @rafecameronswhore @sayah13 @wandsmxmff @emsmultiverse @natashamaximoff69

masterlists | guidelines

Wanda hums a Sokovian lullaby with a smile on her face, as she braids five-year-old Y/N’s hair into a french braid. Y/N is swinging her legs, as her short feet can’t reach the floor yet, while she’s watching Bluey. Sometimes she giggles at the characters ok the television, and sings the opening song with them, clapping when the episode starts.

Every once in a while, Wanda has to set Y/N’s head back into a good position, so she can actually braid her hair, buy she doesn’t mind. This is her favorite time.

It’s early morning, the sun has just risen. There’s porridge in the pot, ready for them to eat once the braids are done. Birds are chirping outside and Wanda is spending time with her little girl. And she loves that little girl with her full heart. Her eyes are so innocent and big, they shine every time she learns something new. Her hair and skin is so soft, Wanda loves to hold her close as much as possible. Her tiny nose and chubby cheeks are perfect for playful pinching. She’s perfect. She couldn’t have asked for a better babygirl.

“All done, Y/N!” Wanda crouches in front of her, looking at her handiwork. “You look so cute, baby.” She smiles with her teeth and Y/N giggles. “Are you ready for breakfast?”

“Uhuh!” She raises her arms high in the air.

Wanda grins and lifts her up to the side of her hip. “Oh my goodness, how did my little girl get so tall all of a sudden?” She gasps, twirling them around.

Y/N giggles, “you’re holding me, mommy!”

“What are you talking about?” She gasps even deeper this time, lifting one of her arms up. “I’m not holding anything in this hand.”

“No!” Her laugh is like music for Wanda’s ears. “Other hand, silly mommy.”

“Is mommy being silly again?”

“Yes.”

Smiling, Wanda rubs her nose against Y/N’s. “Yes, she is, silly mommy. But guess what?” She grins, rubbing her cheek. “You’re my daughter, so you’re just as silly!”

Y/N starts laughing with her full body. The sound echoes through the house, making Wanda’s heart ache with joy. Her eyes tingle as she stares at her daughter.

Her daughter.

She’ll never get tired of saying that.

The pots and pans clang loudly as Wanda washes them. She’s using a lot more force than necessary for washing dishes. Y/N is sitting at the kitchen table, a math book in front of her and a pen in her hand. She’s trying to math work for school, but instead she’s crying.

“I’m sorry, mommy.” She cries out, too scared to look at her mother. “I’m really sorry, mommy.”

Wanda doesn’t answer. She slams a plate to the drying rack. Y/N is scared a dish will break.

“I didn’t mean to do so badly, I just didn’t get it.”

The tap gets turned off with force. “Do you understand how badly you embarrassed me?” Her voice is loud. She walks over and stops right next to Y/N, who is still too scared to look at her in the eyes. “Your grades have been so bad, the principal asked me if there are troubles at home. Do you at least get what that means, huh? It means your teachers think I’m a shit mother!”

“I’m sorry!” The tears are coming out faster.

“And then you start crying in front of the principal? You don’t do things like that!”

“You were yelling and I-“

“Oh, it’s all my fault again. I guess I’m the fucking worst mom then!” Wanda throws her hands in the air, walking to the living room and sitting on the couch. She turns the television on.

Y/N gets out of her seat, “you aren’t the worst mom,” she walks a few steps closer, trying to talk over the loud sound of the television, “you are a good mom, please. No one think you’re the worst.”

When Wanda doesn’t answer, Y/N drops down to her knees and start sobbing loudly. Wanda doesn’t stand up and come to comfort her, she doesn’t say anything, she doesn’t even look at her. All she does, is watch the show, and let Y/N cry, until the tears stop and she goes back to doing her math work.

“I think there’s something wrong with me.” Is the first thing coming out of Y/N’s mouth since they got into the car.

They’ve been driving for twenty minutes towards the campsite where Y/N will be sending a week with her friends. There’s still and hour and a half left to drive.

“No honey there’s nothing wrong with you, you’re perfect.” Wanda assures, fiddling with the control of the radio. She’s trying to find a good channel. “You’re just thirteen and a teenager. It’s all normal.”

“No, mom,” she lets out a heavy sigh, “I think there’s really something wrong with me. Something doesn’t feel right in my head.”

“You’re just tired.”

“But the tiredness is never ending!” She turns her head to look at Wanda. “Look at me, please, mom. I need you to see me. There’s something wrong with me and I need you to see it too.”

Wanda’s eyes stay on the road. “Stop saying that, there’s nothing wrong with you.” Her lips are in a thin line, and her brows are scrunched. She’s starting to get annoyed.

“There has to be something wrong with me! This can’t be who I am. Please, mommy!”

With sharp moves, Wanda drives the car to the side of the road and stops it. “Shut up, right now! You’re being so grateful right now. You had a good childhood, you got food and water whenever you wanted, you had a roof over your head and all the toys you wanted to play with. There are people with worse lives, who have actual problems. So either keep your goddamn mouth shut, or walk the rest of the way, do you hear me?” She doesn’t start driving against until Y/N nods.

The rest of the car drive goes in silence. Y/N looks out the window all the way to the campsite, fighting her tears while Wanda hums along the song on the radio.

Opening the door as quietly as she can, Y/N steps inside the house, slowly putting her shoes to the mat. She closes the door and starts sneaking towards the living room. She stops on her tracks when she notices the television is on. “Well, are you going to come in or not?” Wanda’s heavy voice comes from the living room. Not bothering to be quiet anymore, Y/N walks to the living room, where Wanda is sitting on the couch, watching the mute television. “Where the hell have you been?” She turns to look at her daughter, but all Y/N does is shrug. “Do you know what the time is?”

She glances at the clock, “three.”

“Three in the night.” She’s staring Y/N right into her eyes, and Y/N stares back. Her eyes are red, but it’s not from crying. She hasn’t cried in a long time.

“Fun.”

Wanda stands up, coming right in front of Y/N, so she has to look up at her. “What the hell is wrong with you? This isn’t the girl I know.”

“I’m not five anymore.”

“For fucks sake, Y/N, I know that, but you sure aren’t acting like a fifteen-year-old.” Y/N rolls her eyes and goes to walk away, but Wanda grabs her arm. “Don’t you roll your eyes at me. I am your mother and you’re supposed to respect me!”

“You don’t deserve my respect. You’re not a good person.” Her teeth are bared like an angry dog’s.

“And you think you are?” Wanda scoffs. “You’re my blood, so you’re just as bad. You’re horrible.”

Y/N is packing her things to two different boxes. One says to donation and the other to dorm. She’s nineteen years old and ready for college, ready to move away from her mother’s house. Most of the things in her room are already back, though she has to wait until tomorrow to actually leave. She’s taking the train to her university, not wanting to be in the same car with Wanda for six hours.

“Is packing coming along nicely?” Wanda appears to the doorway, leaning her shoulder against the doorframe. “I could help you out if you need me?”

“Uhh, I think I’ve got it.” She rubs the back of her neck, looking around her room. “There’s not much left.”

“Okay.”

They stand there in silence. Neither of them know how to talk to the other. Wanda never bothered to learn and Y/N gave up on trying. Besides, she couldn’t talk about the things she wanted to without crying, and she really doesn’t want to cry in front of her mom.

“Did you find any things to donate?”

“Some.”

Silence again. It’s making Y/N shake from the need to lay it all out for her. She wants to scream and throw things, but she just bites her lip. There’s no use. No matter what she says, her mother won’t lis-

“What do I have to do?” Y/N suddenly breaks the silence.

“Hm?” Wanda looks at her with a confused expression.

“What do I need to do to make you love me.” The silence is deafening. They’re staring at each other, but Wanda isn’t saying anything. She never does. “Tell me what to do!” Her voice gets louder, but Wanda doesn’t react. It makes Y/N angrier. All the times she was sobbing while her mother punished her with silent treatment coming to her mind. She hates silence. She can’t sleep in a quiet room anymore. “Tell me how to change myself to make you love me!” The tears start falling, and all Wanda does is stare. “Because it hurts, mom, it hurts so bad.” She’s getting desperate. She wants to hurt her, not physically, but the way she has hurt her. All she wants is for Wanda to feel the way she has always felt growing up. But instead of saying something hurtful, all she says is, “I’m sorry for being a bad daughter.”

Wanda walks out of the room, and Y/N wipes away her tears before continuing her packing.

After a few hours, Y/N is sitting on her bed, reading a book. A smell is coming from the kitchen, which tells her dinner is almost ready. She doesn’t want to go downstairs, at least not until Wanda somehow expresses she isn’t angry anymore.

Her whole body tenses when she hears steps coming upstairs. She’s holding her breath when Wanda walks into the room and sits behind her on the bed.

Y/N puts her book down, but doesn’t say anything. All Wanda does is set her head to a correct position and start making a french braid. There’s a piece stuck in Y/N’s throat as she sits there, it makes her whole body hurt, but she fights back the second set of tears threatening to fall.

Wanda’s fingers work in a fast and skillful pace, having done this multiple times. Y/N’s hair is longer now, and there’s a lot more of it, but still it gets done quickly. She puts the ponytail in place, kisses Y/N’s cheek and walks right out of the room.

Y/N takes the braid to her hand and holds it against her cheek. She starts crying silently. It doesn’t feel the same as it did when she was five years old.

Breathing in through her nose and out through her mouth, Y/N holds her phone in hand. There’s a small cupcake in front of her with candles that say 22 on them. She hasn’t eaten it yet.

Her hands are shaking and black spots are starting to appear in her vision. Whatever is wrong with her, is starting to get worse again. She thought she had gotten better after moving on her own, but it all came rushing back after the initial relief. It was manageable for a long time, but these past few months, she has started to feel like she’s drowning.

She’s afraid she’ll do something bad if she doesn’t get help.

Which is why she has been gathering courage to call her mom and tell her she want to come back home, that she needs to come back home. How she feels like she won’t survive if she’s all alone. She needs her mom.

“I need help, I want to come home.” She mumbles quietly to herself as practice before pressing the contact on her phone and bringing it to her ear. She waits for three rings before Wanda answers. “Hi, mom.” Her voice is quieter than usual.

“Hi, honey. Happy birthday!”

She’s tired.

“Thanks, mom.” She huffs out a laugh.

She’s just tired.

“How’s it going over there?”

“Hm, it-“

“Oh, you can’t believe what the weather has been like over here.”

Y/N freezes. She grips the phone tighter. “What has it been like?”

“Crazy. It was raining so much yesterday, and today there’s some kind of wind monster outside.” Her mother laughs. “What’s the weather been like over there?”

“Sunny.”

“Oh, isn’t that great! I wish we’d get sun more over here, I’m getting fired of…”

And Wanda continues talking. And Y/N continues listening. The phone call lasted for thirty minutes. All they talked about was the weather.