#hes just sat in the corner of my sketchbook

[windwenn]

This has been in my head for weeks i couldnt let go of it

[g1rld1ary]

the way i see you ; remus lupin x reader

synopsis: you're an artist, but you never let any of your friends see your work. they finally attend one of your exhibits and see your feelings on paper

wc: 4346

cw: swearing, allusions to sex, gryffindor reader but literally mentioned once, no pronouns but implied to be fem reader, kissing, no war AU!!

me: the remus brainrot is strong rn

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You were an artist, you had been the whole time the boys knew you. Even in first year as a shy eleven year old, you were always scribbling away in a little sketchbook that lived in the big pockets of your robes. The hobby only developed as you got older, expanding mediums and filling countless sketchbooks. When you weren’t studying (or even when you were supposed to be) it was almost a given that you’d be working on a piece somewhere, far from the prying eyes of others.

Your friends caught glances of your art sometimes, doodles on the corner of your essays or notes, maybe a stray page left out in your dorm which told them you were good, but you never ever willingly let them see it. They didn’t know why, truthfully, you didn’t know either, but it had always been that way and everyone had more or less accepted that.

“Have you ever drawn me?” Sirius asked one afternoon as you all sat out by the Black Lake, cocky grin on his face.

“’Course,” You answered simply, moving to turn back to your conversation with Remus.

“Wait, really?”

“Well you have to have drawn me then, right? Can’t just be Padfoot!” James cut in quickly, making you laugh, nodding.

“Before everyone starts asking, lets just establish that I’ve drawn all of you at some point, okay?” You thought that would calm them down, but it only riled them up further, much to your chagrin.

“And you haven’t shown us?” Marlene cried dramatically.

“I deserve to see you capture my beauty!” Sirius collapsed in an exaggerated performance and you couldn’t decide whether you were amused or embarrassed, giggling and hiding your face in Remus’ shoulder. He merely pat you on the shoulder, shooting you a fond gaze you couldn’t see. James caught it though, and smirked in a way that Remus knew he was about to be embarrassed.

“Have you drawn Moony?” He asked, and you both looked at him suddenly.

“Prongs, don’t,” Remus said sternly, then turning to you, “It’s okay, you don’t have to answer… I know they must ruin the picture.” He gestured down to his scars. You just looked at him for a moment, utterly baffled.

“As if some silly scars would stop me from drawing you,” You said, a sweet smile on your lips, “You’re my biggest inspiration, Moony.” He blushed at that but the rest of your friends tactfully ignored it, though the boys shot him some shit-eating looks.

It was probably true that you drew Remus the most, but it was only because you spent the most time with him! Or, that’s what you told yourself anyway. Remus Lupin was your best friend in the world, and you loved him more than anything. Since you were always together and hanging out, clearly you’d draw him more, it was perfectly natural!

Your study sessions together in the library often devolved quickly, essays abandoned to the side, both of you falling into chatter as you studied and sketched him.

“What’re you drawing, dove?” He’d always ask, knowing you’d never tell. You’d simply press your lips into a cheeky smile, shaking your head resolutely.

“Uh-uh,” You’d say, “An artist never reveals her secrets.”

“I’m pretty sure that’s magicians, stupid,” He laughed, running a hand through his curls.

“Oh,” You frowned, “Well I’m that too, aren’t I?”

“Hardly,” He snorted, “Your essays are more doodles than writing.”

“Hey, Slughorn gave me a whole extra mark for the portrait I drew last week, so none of that.”

Or you’d follow him out of the pub you were all in when Remus needed a smoke, sitting on the blacked out window ledge as he lit up. You thought he might have been the most beautiful person in the world when he smoked, the way the lighter brought out the gold flecks in his eyes and hair and the shadows of night emphasised his unreal bone structure. You’d probably drawn him in that exact scenario hundreds of times, but it wasn’t your fault he looked like a fallen angel. When he leaned over to give you a puff you took it gratefully, if only for the proximity. You weren’t much of a smoker, but for Remus you’d let your lungs rot.

It was moments like that where you’d wonder what it would be like to kiss him, lean past the cigarette and put your mouth on his. Sometimes you thought he wanted it too, the way he’d get slightly too close for best friends, his own hand being the one to stick the dart into your mouth, sometimes so close your lips brushed his fingers. Moments like that made you wonder if he loved you back. Then later, when everyone was drunker, you’d see him stick his tongue down some prettier girl’s throat and you’d remember your place as his best friend. If it stung you tried not to show it, letting some sleazy guy a few years older than you buy you drinks until Peter told you it was time to leave.

Still, you were mostly alright with just being friends with Remus. You still got most of the benefits; his conversation, his dry humour, the ability to look at his gorgeous face. Who needed everything else? Plus, you could draw him whenever you wanted, doing whatever you wanted — not in a weird way. Mostly. You still would never admit that you’d drawn him holding your hand, or kissing you, or other things you desired… The magic of art, right?

After years of bugging, you finally submitted to your friends constant nagging. The day that you officially graduated Hogwarts was an emotional one. Seven years of constant laughter and magic (both literal and the sentimental kind) were over, and the world seemed too large and intimidating compared to the familiar walls of your school. Yet there was no stopping it, and you were all Hogwarts graduates.

While all your parents cried and reminisced over coffee in the Great Hall, your friends had gone for one last deep conversation by the Black Lake. Discussions of the future were unavoidable, but were mostly positive. Talks of trips you’d take, apartments you’d live in and hell you’d raise. When you all quietened down slightly, struck by it being the last time you’d sit in front of the lake, you cleared your throat.

“Um, I have something for you guys, a graduation gift.” From your purse you pulled the envelopes, all filled with fancy cardstock from the art shop near your family home. You’d drawn a simple grey-lead portrait of each of your friends, framed with a little message of congratulations. You watched anxiously as they each opened the envelopes, nervous all the hype would make the art seem inconsequential. Your fear couldn’t be farther from the truth.

Sirius gasped dramatically as he saw what it was, but a genuine smile followed straight after. James burst straight into tears, hardly getting the picture all the way out. You could tell Lily was trying not to follow, but seeing her boyfriend cry set off the waterworks for her. Marlene and Mary were inspecting the others, pointing out the little details you’d put in, like Mary’s favourite daisy earrings or the slit Marlene had impulsively shaved into her eyebrow only a few weeks before. Peter was bright pink, flattered to the highest degree. Remus was hard to read, simply staring at you with the strangest look in his eye. You couldn’t ask him about it though, being ambushed with hugs from every direction.

“I can’t believe you’ve been hiding all this talent from us,” Peter said, the rest agreeing.

“Didn’t know we had our very own Da Vinci hiding behind a Gryffindor tie,” Marlene added, making you blush and grin.

You dreaded to imagine what it would look like from an outsider’s perspective, the eight of you teary, sweaty messes all piled on top of each other. Well, seven of you.

“Come on, Moony,” James called in a sing-song voice, “If you can’t submit to a hug at our graduation I am going to give you the biggest, slobberiest kiss and you won’t be able to do a thing about it.” Remus snorted, rolling his eyes.

“You look like absolute wankers,” Was all he said, but joined the pile nonetheless, and you were extra glad he was mainly holding on to you. When you all finally pulled away it was minutes later, but the whole thing was strangely cathartic.

“We all have to promise that we’ll always be friends, no matter what,” Mary said, putting her pinky finger out. The rest of you agreed, sticking your pinkies in for a very convoluted eight way promise. With that sorted your friends started heading back up the hill to the school building, ready to leave Hogwarts forever and prepare for a long night of heavy drinking. Remus held you back. James sent you a suggestive glance when he noticed but left it that, drawing Lily in for a bittersweet kiss.

You turned to Remus, only for his eyes to be locked on the portrait. You’d spent so much time trying to get it perfect for him, practising the stupid knot he insisted on tying every day despite the rest of the school going with a less convoluted method of wearing their ties.

“Do you like it?” You asked, subconsciously twisting your ring around your pointer finger. Remus let out a half laugh.

“I love it, honest. It’s insane, really. That you can make this just like that. It’s just…” You searched his eyes for the rest of the sentence. “You make me look…” He didn’t finish but you knew immediately what he meant. Remus hated looking at himself, training his eyes down in the bathroom and opting to always be the photographer so he didn’t have to see himself in the final product. You knew of course it was because of his scars, but you genuinely couldn’t believe he thought they were ugly, much less made him ugly.

“I wish you could see yourself the way I see you, just once,” You sighed, grabbing his free hand and interlocking your fingers, leading him back to where the others were waiting.

Four years out of Hogwarts and you’d all kept your promise. Of course you didn’t see each other quite as much as the boarding school schedule allowed, but the boys all had an apartment together which brought you together often enough — except James and Lily who were married and had moved down to Godric’s Hollow to raise baby Harry. That similarly brought you all to meet often, all determined to spoil Harry as his aunts and uncles.

You weren’t a full-time artist professionally, though you still did it just as much. You’d evolved to paints by then; living with a muggle because the rent was cheap had the added bonus of not having to worry about leaving your paintings on the easel since you didn’t really care what they thought about your art anyway.

Your friends were all huddled in the boys’ apartment living room, every seat taken as you all caught up. You were on the couch with Remus, absentmindedly running your hands through his hair as his head rested on your lap. You still weren’t dating, but Lily always said you might as well have been. You laughed her off every time — if he hadn’t said anything by now how could he feel the same way? You tried to pretend it didn’t still sting.

You’d tried dating, Remus too. He’d had countless partners since you’d finished school — even more one night stands. Nothing lasted more than a few months. You’d done slightly better, you made it about a year with some bloke that Remus hated before he revealed himself as a colossal dickhead, and you’d been mostly single since.

The group was trying to organise their next meeting.

“What about the movies next Friday? I wanna see that new muggle film, Knife Runner,” James suggested and you and Remus both snorted.

“Blade Runner, love,” Lily corrected with a giggle and James burst out laughing, making a quick joke at his own expense. You’d dug your planner out of your purse to check your availability and frowned, closing the book quickly.

“I can’t do next Friday, sorry, how about Saturday?”

“And what plans have you got on a Friday night, you minx?” Mary asked with wiggling eyebrows. Even Remus looked interested, which made your heart stutter.

“Just a work thing,” You answered quickly, not wanting to reveal the real reason.

“You lie like a rug!” Marlene yelled, sitting up from her spot on the floor. You winced, you shouldn’t have made an excuse that she could so easily disprove, being in the same department of the ministry. “What plans are you too embarrassed to tell us about, slag?” You laughed shortly, their assumptions were so completely off.

“It’s not what you think—”

“Not what you think my arse, who’s ‘Davis Show’ and why is he surrounded by hearts, you absolute tart!” Sirius cried, displaying the planner for everyone to see. You couldn’t help but burst out laughing, wheezing as you looked at your friends’ faux-scandalised expressions.

“Look you twats, Davis Show isn’t a man. I’ve been invited to put my art in a show at the Davis Gallery down on Welking Road next week. I can assure you I’m not shagging a man named Davis.”

The whiplash was immediate, the gossip sniffing exchanged for celebrations, you couldn’t tell whose yelling was whose. Peter immediately ran to the kitchen for a bottle of champagne, passing glasses around the room. When the initial excitement wore down you were subjected to a million questions, and tried to answer each of them patiently.

“I can’t believe you weren’t gonna tell us,” Mary pouted and you sighed.

“You know how I get about my art,” You explained, “It’s not that I don’t love you all, obviously, it just makes me so nervous thinking about you guys all seeing my stuff.”

“You know we’re all coming now, right?” James said, wiping his glasses where the champagne bubbles had created smudges.

“You really don’t have to,” You put in quickly, “It’s so embarrassing.”

“Why won’t you let us appreciate you?” Marlene whined.

“It’s just, my art is like an extension of my soul. I don’t think I’d be able to recover if you didn’t think it was good.” Your friends grew rowdy at that, offended you’d even think they wouldn’t adore your art no matter what. You felt Remus put a hand on your thigh and gave him a weak smile, knowing he’d shut down the conversation if you wanted him to. You didn’t want to make a big deal out of nothing though, especially when everyone was being so supportive. You figured everyone was so busy they’d forget it by the next week anyway.

Friday came, and you were a wreck of nerves. Although you’d sold pieces here and there throughout the years, this show would be the first time your art would be displayed as a collective, and you were terrified of rejection.

You’d figured your friends weren’t actually coming since none of them had really mentioned anything since. Apart from Lily, of course, who’d sent an owl to your desk that morning with a sweet good luck note and your favourite chocolate.

Even Remus hadn’t said anything when you went for coffee on your lunch break. That did puzzle you, you knew he would never go if he thought it would make you uncomfortable, but it wasn’t like him as your best friend to forget something so monumental in your life. You thought he was acting kind of weird though, more affectionate than he usually was. He kept looking at you longer than he should, and you wondered if you’d miscounted how far away the next full moon was. When you asked him about it he just brushed it off, looking down at his tea instead like he’d been caught.

“I love you,” He said and you laughed.

“I love you too, Lupin!” You cooed, patting him softly on the hand.

“You’re amazing, you know?” You arched a brow.

“What are you trying to make up for?” You asked suspiciously, giving him a once over to search for answers.

“Nothing, promise,” He smiled in a way that made your knees a little weak, “I just wanted to make sure you knew.”

“You’re gonna give me an ego,” You grumbled, packing up your things to get back to work. As you parted ways he pressed a kiss down to your cheek and you stumbled. Remus was never this affectionate as a person — a pat on the back, a hug if you needed one, yes, but he was never one for casual platonic kisses. You figured it must have been his way to apologise for not coming to the art show? But he knew you didn’t mind, so what was he apologising for? You tried to shake it off and get back to work, but you couldn’t get your closeness out of your head.

Evening fell and you were setting up your stall before the other patrons came in. Rearranging the paintings until you were pretty much perfectly happy, you looked around, still not fully believing you were really here. People were filtering in, well dressed and chattering softly as young waiters handed out flutes of champagne. You straightened out your silky black skirt in an effort to look more presentable, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear.

At first things were slow, and you almost regretted not inviting your friends, if only so they could make your area look more interesting. And once you let that thought in, you kind of regretted not inviting them anyway. After all, they were the dearest people in your life and this was such a meaningful event to you.

You couldn’t think about that for long though since people had begun to filter over to you, making polite small talk as they admired your paintings. You tried to be energetic, smiling widely if you ever locked eyes with someone. However, deep down, you just wanted your friends.

A little old woman approached you for a while, wanting to know the meaning behind basically every painting and you told her happily, sharing the memories that inspired each work.

“Seems like you’ve got some true friends,” She said, “I hope you keep them close.” You agreed, thanking her profusely as she bought a landscape of the Whomping Willow.

It was growing closer and closer to closing, and honestly, it had been a wonderful night. Seeing the way that people reacted and interacted with your art was a magical experience, and changed the way you thought about it entirely. You decided that if you ever got the opportunity again, you’d want to share it with everyone else.

You were just moving to start packing up when you heard a myriad of gasps.

“What the fuck, dude?” The unmistakeable voice of Marlene McKinnon said from behind you. You whipped around to meet them, breaking into a cheek splitting smile.

“What are you guys doing here?” You asked, rushing over to scoop them all up into a hug.

“Fuck that, why didn’t you tell us that we’re your exhibition?” Sirius cried, running up to examine the paintings more clearly.

“And that they’re literally professional?” Peter added, eyes wide in wonder. You flushed red under their praise. If your friends thought your pencil portraits were good, they were nothing compared to your paintings.

Plus, every one of them was of your friends, or something sentimental to you all. Landscapes of Hogwarts, portraits of your friends, captured memories of long summer days, or life sketches from when you were all together. You watched them observe the paintings with nervous excitement, loving as they gave specific, personal compliments that only people who truly knew you could give.

“This our apartment,” Sirius said, pointing to one of your biggest pieces, “That’s our couch, the pillow Prongs has permanently ruined with butterbeer, that’s Moony!”

“There are a lot of paintings of Moony, aren’t there?” James whispered to you, wiggling his eyebrows. You flushed again. Sirius continued on, seeming (or pretending) not to have heard.

“We have to have this in the flat. Right boys?” Your eyes widened.

“Really?”

“For sure,” Peter said, “I’m buying this one too.” He gestured to one of him and James playing chess in the Gryffindor common room.

“And this is taking pride of place at home.” James pointed to a portrait of his and Lily’s wedding, and Lily similarly chose one of her and baby Harry. Marlene took one of her and Mary on the beach and Mary took one of the group at a house party. Half your paintings ended up being sold by the end of the night, and you couldn’t feel luckier. The only one who hadn’t said anything was Remus, who couldn’t keep his eyes off the paintings.

You shooed your friends out of the gallery once it really was closing time, and got to work packing away your things. You were deep in thought, reflecting on the wild day when someone cleared their throat behind you. It was Remus, and he moved to help you put your things away, stacking the paintings between bubble wrap to protect them.

“These are really beautiful,” He said, “I mean, we knew you were talented but… these are seriously on another level.”

“Thanks, Remus.” You smiled, unable to make eye contact as you watched him handle all the paintings you’d done of him. Portraits like the others, but also studies of his hands — god you were obsessed with his hands — his profile, and one less than innocent picture of his back, scars resting over muscles. You probably shouldn’t have put that one out, but to be fair you didn’t know he’d see it.

There was a somewhat awkward silence between the two of you. Not uncomfortable, per se, but there were definitely things you both wanted to say that neither knew how to.

“Let me drive you home,” Remus settled on and you nodded, letting him help you load your work into the boot of his car. You sat in the passenger seat, absentmindedly tapping your fingers on the dashboard to whatever radio station Remus had turned on. Remus stared straight ahead, knuckles pulled tight around the steering wheel.

“I’m really proud of you, you know. This whole show was incredible.” You went to thank him again but he kept talking. “I just wanted to know, um, there were a lot of paintings of me. I was just wondering why, why me?” You hesitated, unsure of what was going to come out of your mouth.

“I wish you could see yourself the way I see you,” You decided on with a bit of a sigh.

“You’ve said that before, what does that mean?” Your breath hitched. You definitely didn’t intend for it all to come out tonight, but if you didn’t say it now you doubted you ever would.

“You are the most beautiful person I know, Remus. I mean, even aside from your personality — which we know I have to be at least somewhat a fan of after all these years — you’re totally fit. Your eyes, your hair, God, your fucking bone structure, you’re literally a walking renaissance painting. And I know you think your scars make you ugly, but you don’t know how turned on I get thinking about how they’d feel on my skin.” Shit, you probably should’ve stopped talking.

You hadn’t realised he’d parked while you were rambling, but now you were sitting outside his apartment and he was looking at you with eyes that looked more like the wolf than him.

“I turn you on?” He whispered, voice suddenly gravelly as he leaned closer in to you.

“More than anything,” You breathed, brain buffering at the feeling of his breath on your face. Suddenly his mouth was on yours, hot and electric and not at all gentle. It felt like years of pent up frustration being let out all at once, and if he was anything like you, it probably was.

“Up,” He mumbled between kisses and you heard him undoing his seatbelt, hurrying to do the same. You barely disconnected to get out of the car, attaching yourself to his arm as he led the way up to the boys’ flat.

You made it up the three flights of stairs, not without Remus pushing you up against the stairwell wall to stick his tongue in your mouth, and stumbled straight into his bedroom, shedding layers as soon as the door was safely shut.

The next morning you awoke first, initially convinced you were dreaming when you saw him lying peacefully beside you. Eventually you rolled onto your side, ready to get out of bed for a glass of water when his nightstand caught your eye. There, in pride of place, was your graduation portrait of him, with a polaroid of the two of you stuck to the corner. Maybe he really had liked you as long as you’d liked him.

[talesofesther]

first in my heart

Astarion Ancunin x Reader

Summary: Astarion hasn't seen his own face in 200 years and this bothers you deeply. You find a solution to finally show him how you see him, yet it leads to much more than simply that.

A/N: Gotta thank my sweet @iamnicodemus for encouraging me to write this. Undoubtedly one of the sweetest things I've ever written.

Word count: 4,7k

Masterlist

"I've never even seen this face. Not since it grew fangs and my eyes turned red."

It was something that lurked in the corners of your mind, those words of his. No matter how many days passed, you couldn't shake them off. It saddened you deeply. Each new passing mention about the last two centuries of Astarion's life drove a knife into your heart and twisted bitterly.

To the naked eye, it was imperceptible, never there. Even now, as you sat around the warm bonfire, watching as the pale elf bickered halfheartedly with Gale, he seemed as ordinary as your group of misfits could be. His smile loose, adorning those sharp fangs you'd become quite familiar with; silver hair curling delicately around pointy ears; deep red eyes reflecting the fire embers with a unique shine whenever he'd steal glances at you. He was the embodiment of lightheartedness and witty remarks, eccentric, unbothered, and with a quick tongue for anything.

And yet, he wasn't, not always. You felt secretly privileged, in a way, to be able to see the real him—to be allowed to. To hold him close when he wakes up gasping for air he didn't quite need and with watery eyes in the dead of the night; to softly kiss each and every scar on his back, whispering promises of love where before he had only known pain; to remind him again and again of his worth.

Astarion had a side to him you were slowly uncovering; you think, that he himself is only now uncovering as well. Vulnerable and fragile, broken but not beyond repair, yearning to be cradled by gentle hands.

He deserves to be mended, you know it in your heart. To get back what was taken from him. And you wanted to help, if only a little.

Earlier today as you ventured through Baldur's Gate, you stumbled upon a discarded sketchbook. It was a little dirty and a little worn, but it was still very much usable. Amidst your—many—questionably valuable loot, you knew you had a few good pencils to spare too.

It's been long since you picked up some paper and let your mind run free—before your whole adventure, to be precise. Maybe you'd be a little rusty around the edges and it would take a few tries to get him close to perfect, but you had time; or, you'd make time. He deserved as much.

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The lines that made him him came almost like second nature to you, maybe because you'd traced those same features with your fingertips countless times before within these last weeks. Ever since he admitted he'd fallen for you beyond his plans of seducing you, things had been easier, lighter. He allowed himself to be cherished and you were more than happy to do so.

A faint smile tugged at the corners of your lips as you created curly strands of his hair with your pencil. Delicate and precise, even for the mess that was his curls.

The sky bathed in shades of orange, pink, and baby blue as the sun lowered in the distance. The camp was as lively as it usually was during the evenings. Karlach was playing fetch with Scratch and the Owlbear cub, the latter who was mostly just running around aimlessly. Gale and Wyll were hunched over the fire doing something you could only hope wouldn't end in mild disaster. Lae'zel sharpened her blades, a scratching sound piercing your ears from afar. Shadowheart looked to be in deep conversation with Astarion, to which the vampire gestured wildly as he apparently tried to make a point.

You never expected that your unfortunate encounter with a mind flayer would give you a makeshift family, but you were thankful that it did. For better or worse, you were all in this together, and that was comfort and motivation enough.

With the strangely soothing sounds of laughter and bickering, you turned your attention back to your sketchbook. Going back one page, you had already finished a rough sketch of Astarion's profile, focused on the contrast of his sharp nose and soft curls. Now, on the next page, you were working on a more elaborate portrayal of his features, depicting a look he often wore when you sauntered over to him; the faint smile on his lips that had grown all the softer ever since you first met; the gentle tilt of his head as his eyebrows scrunched expectantly; the sharp and alluring eyes who could pierce into your soul.

"What are you up to, my sweet?"

The sudden honey-coated voice startled you, you jumped slightly on your seat and hastily covered the pages on your lap with your forearms.

The elf himself stood only a few feet in front of you, his lips pursed and an eyebrow raised in curiosity as he tried to peek past your arms.

You chuckled timidly, "Nothing, I was just- just resting a bit." Shrugging nonchalantly as you smiled.

Astarion narrowed his eyes at you but didn't push it, he never did. "Gale is trying to make us something to eat with what he got from the vendors today," he gestured behind himself and to the fire where Gale stood in front of, "I wouldn't be the first to try it out if I were you but I'm dying to know everyone's opinion on it." A sly smirk got his fangs poking out, "bonus points if someone vomits it out."

You shot him an amused look, biting back a laugh. You never quite got why he had this little rivalry with Gale—besides the fact he wasn't overly fond of Gale's flirting attempts with you in the beginning, but that had long since subsided. To be honest, you think it's more routine than anything else at this point, for show and amusement; a friendly rivalry.

Slightly cold fingertips caught hold of your chin when you didn't answer, his thumb pressing against the corner of your mouth as Astarion held you. "Do join me, will you?"

The smile you still wore shifted into something sweeter, reserved only for him. And you leaned into his touch, closing your eyes momentarily. "I will… in a moment."

Astarion blinked at your briefly evasive answer, but nodded anyway, "I'll… be waiting."

He walked away, slow steps taking him towards the commotion around the campfire. You felt a little bad for denying him company right away, but it was for a good cause, you had to follow your streak of inspiration if you wanted to finish the drawing to the best of your abilities.

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Dinner proved to be pleasant, tasty even, for Gale's culinary standards. This time of day had to be one of your favorites, with everyone sitting together around the fire at night and forgetting about life's misfortunes for a moment.

You sat by a rock, leaning your back against it as your shoulders shook with laughter at one of Halsin's stories. Astarion had plopped down by your side not long ago, the weight of his shoulder resting against yours as comforting as it always was. He took just a while longer to take your hand in his tonight, cold fingers hooking around yours and squeezing as he brought your joined hands to rest on his thigh.

Everything felt so new, you thought of yourself as a giddy teenager sometimes; heart fluttering with each lingering touch and stolen glance. For most of the time, you let Astarion set the pace of things, giving him the freedom to choose to be by your side. And there wasn't a time when he chose not to be.

He played with your fingers, palm to palm as if to compare sizes, alluring red eyes focused solely on where you touched. Innocent, boyish even. It was new for him too, you thought, perhaps much more than it would ever be to you.

And then your mind drifted back to the gift you had been steadily creating for him, excitement twirling in your stomach. You leaned closer, lips brushing the fabric of his shirt on his shoulder, "I'm gonna head to my tent for a bit, got a few things to organize. I'll find you later, yeah?"

A low hum fell past Astarion's lips, his eyes flicked to you, all big and vulnerable. "Oh, alright," his voice quiet and sweet.

You smiled, squeezed his hand, and planted a kiss on the corner of his lips. His eyes never left you as you walked away.

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It had never been on his plans, falling for you. It wasn't even something he considered would happen when he first started to slip a few honeyed words your way. But then you threw his heart off course with your tender touches and whispers of comfort, leaving telltales of your warmth all over his cold body. And he was a goner.

The last time Astarion dared to care about someone, he endured a year of punishment locked away, alone, starving, and crying for help that wouldn't come. There had been a fear, clawing at the back of his mind as he watched himself crumble for you; a fear that this would end much the same.

When he finally bared his heart for you—shaking like a leaf with the proverbial organ stretched out in his hands—he expected you to deny him, scream at him, maybe even send him away.

You didn't.

You said you cared for him. You hugged him.

There was no one else in the world like you, he decided.

Three dangerous words lingered on Astarion's tongue each time he woke up to your sleeping form beside him. For the time being, he settled for kissing the shape of them into your skin, over and over, until maybe one day you figured it out.

He scoffed at himself, finally tearing his gaze away from where you sat on the other side of the camp. If his much younger self saw him now, he'd probably be laughing. Or he'd be very envious. No in-between.

Stars danced in the night sky, alongside a half-moon dusted with faint clouds. It was late, most of the group had already turned in for the night, with Karlach keeping watch, as much to her dismay, it was her turn.

Astarion ran his tongue over his fangs, grip tightening on the book he had in his hands. He'd been trying to read the same page for minutes now.

There was no one else in the world like you. He wondered when you'd realize that. When you'd realize that you were infinitely too good for the likes of him.

With a shiver running down his spine, Astarion worried that you might have started to.

It's been a few days now that you've been… distant; tucked away in your tent whenever you settled camp, not sparing him much time of day, at least not nearly as much as you used to.

With an annoyed click of his tongue, as he closed his book, Astarion realized he missed you, even with you sleeping side by side each night. How needy of him.

But he missed your mindless talks by the fire as everyone settled in for the night; he missed your walks through town just before sunset or sunrise; he missed the causality, the simplicity of calling you his. He'd gotten used to the sweet routine quite quickly.

The thought that you might already be growing tired of him made his dead heart clench agonizingly inside his chest. He glanced back at you, hunched over your makeshift desk as you scribbled something down in a book, Scratch lying by your feet. That is a kind of pain he wasn't sure he could endure.

Perhaps against his better judgment, his feet carried him to you anyway; yet he hesitated, words heavy on his tongue. Astarion stood awkwardly behind you, fidgeting with the edges of his shirt and praying that anyone who might still be awake wouldn't look this way. Scratch raised his head when the elf approached, a whine coming from him as his head tilted from side to side as if he wanted to ask what was wrong. Seems even the dog pities his predicament.

Old habits die hard and Astarion couldn't help but assume the worst, every time. He doesn't know how to be with someone, doesn't know the first thing about being in a relationship—was that what you two had? It's not like you ever labeled it. Maybe he did something wrong, and that's why you've been limiting your time with him.

"Astarion?"

With several blinks, his eyes focused again, only to see you regarding him with a frown, hand resting atop the closed book you had been writing in. Now your head was the one tilting inquisitively.

"Is everything okay?"

Still, your voice would always be sweetest to his ears.

Astarion shook his head softly to clear the fog his insecurities had brought and plastered a smile on his lips. "Of course, my darling," he approached, extending a hand to your sitting form and twirling a strand of your hair between his fingers, "I just think you should be getting your beauty sleep by now. Come warm up my bed, won't you?"

The faint blush that dusted your cheeks whenever he sweet-talked you would never cease to endear him. "We can read that book you're so fond of if you don't want to sleep, the cheesy romance one," Astarion purred, his pointer finger tracing the edges of your jaw.

You turned your head, planting a small kiss on his palm. "I'll be going soon, just want to finish something first. You can read without me, I don't mind."

But how could he ever tell you, that the words looked blurry and tangled without you by his side?

Longer than an hour had gone by when you finally decided to come to his tent. The night was mostly quiet, eery, with only the sounds of crickets, frogs, and the crackling of the dying fire. Astarion lay on his side, back turned towards the tent's opening. He didn't need sleep, not really, some meditation here and there would usually be enough to keep his energy up. But it was a habit he'd picked up when you started sleeping together through the night.

He wasn't asleep tonight, however. He heard your footsteps approaching him, quiet and cautious so as to not disturb him. He felt you lying down beside him, ever so slowly.

Astarion closed his eyes tightly, trying to hold himself back and failing miserably. One taste of your affection had been enough to get him hopelessly addicted.

He turned, shuffling closer and curling his body around you. His arm went over your stomach and tugged lightly, like a kitten asking for attention. You didn't say anything as you closed your arms around him, your lips finding the bridge of his nose and then his forehead. Words were futile when actions spoke the loudest.

Your gentle touches, the way you hold him without malice, he could hardly get enough of it. Your arms wrapped around him and your lips grazed his skin with lingering kisses, and it didn't hurt, it didn't burn or make him feel sick. You were the first one to ever do it, to hold him without hurting him.

Astarion nuzzled your neck, burying himself in the feeling, gladly drowning in it as he drank every last drop. Tears prickled his eyes, they usually did on nights like these and he's never quite sure why. Maybe it's because of the way your fingers gently tangled in his hair yet didn't tug or scrape; maybe it's the way you tighten your hold on him as if trying to mend his fragile heart; maybe it's because of how much he longed for someone like you to come and save him, on nights where all he knew were pain and unwelcomed caresses that scarred his skin more than any blade ever could.

And now, he wanted to lose himself in the comfort he found, that you so generously provided. His fingers closed forcefully on the fabric of your shirt, nearly ripping it, afraid you'd leave if he held you any looser. The fear of waking up alone and finding out that he'd lost you was all too consuming, tugging at his heartstrings.

He closed his eyes and rogue tears dampened the collar of your shirt. It was okay, it would be dry come morning, you wouldn't know. You were warm, you chased away everything that haunted him.

⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆

You stared at it intently. You have been staring at it for a while now, teeth chewing at the inside of your cheek in nervousness and anticipation. You checked it once, twice, turning the pages with careful fingers. The sketchbook wasn't filled, it would take too long to do so, but at least half of the pages inside it held some kind of scribble. Art pieces of various styles and levels of progression, some much more detailed than others, some mere hasty lines put together to paint a dear image you wanted to keep for a while longer. All of them of him. A book filled with the pointy ears and pale hair you adored so much.

You could only hope he would adore it just as much.

It was early in the morning and the day had yet to properly start. Most of your companions were still tucked away in their tents, some huddled around the burned logs of the fire from last night, coffee mugs in their hands and a sleepy look on their faces. You were never much of an early bird yourself, but today you made a point of rising before Astarion—you were lucky he'd picked back up the habit of sleeping and wasn't much of an early bird himself.

Hugging the sketchbook to your chest, you padded back to the warmth of his tent. As you opened the flaps, you were greeted with the sight of soft slivers of sunlight coming through the thinner part of the tent's fabric, they glimmered over Astarion's laying form, kissing his pale skin and making it shine.

You could easily get used to it; waking up to him, watching as the early morning rays painted his features golden, small wisps of dust flying in the air only giving him that bit more magical touch.

Astarion had his back to you, so you quietly kneeled beside him, extending a hand to run through his mess of curls; oh how soft they were, molding in between your fingers like seafoam on the shore. You counted yourself remarkably privileged.

You placed the sketchbook behind you so you could lie down, only keeping yourself up on one elbow. Your lips found his temple and the elf lightly stirred in his sleep. You kissed the tip of his ear next, waking him up gently. Always gently. He deserves gentleness.

With a hoarse groan, Astarion turned around to face you. He blinked several times as his ruby eyes adjusted to the soft sunlight, his face adorably scrunched from sleep. An easy, small smile appeared on his lips as soon as his gaze landed on you.

You weren't an early bird, yet you came to love the mornings, if only for this sight alone.

"Good morning, my star," you said quietly so as to not disturb the peace of the moment, still twirling a strand of his hair between your fingers.

He chuckled, "Good morning, beautiful." His voice all husky and deep, one hand finding your waist and trailing all the way up to your neck to pull you closer.

You kissed the corner of his lips and then the apple of his cheek, and Astarion's hold on you only grew tighter, pulling you on top of him. A welp escaped you as you laughed, nuzzling his neck before baring your teeth and giving him a playful nibble.

"Ow, you menace!" The vampire gasped halfheartedly, holding back a grin.

You pulled back from him with the ghost of a smile, bracing yourself on his chest. "I've got something to tell you."

His expression shifted to something you couldn't quite decipher, but he quickly masked it with a teasing tilt of his brows; "Oh? Are you gonna confess your undying love for me?" Both his hands brushed along the sides of your waist, gingerly raising your shirt as his pinkie grazed your skin.

"I thought we'd gone over that part already?" You teased back with a glint in your eyes, pushing yourself back up to sit beside him.

A whimper of complaint escaped Astarion when you separated, but he sat up with you anyway; his hair askew and all over the place, cheeks with the faintest flush to them, eyes just a little droopy, and… a strange stiffness to his shoulders. "What is it, my love?" He wondered, scrunching his nose endearingly when a piece of lint grazed it.

You squirmed in your seat; heart burning hotter than Karlach's in your chest, valves working overtime as the connection you shared enveloped you whole. You haven't actually told him how much you loved him, the four-lettered word hadn't been brought up yet, mostly for fear of the weight it held. But you wanted to, you've been feeling it for a while now.

"Well? Don't leave me in suspense," Astarion chuckled, but the sound didn't feel quite right to your ears, his smile wasn't reaching his eyes. And as you looked at him—one of his hands gripping tightly onto the fabric of his bedroll while the other tapped his knee incessantly; the ruby of his eyes almost nonexistent, covered by shiny black pupils as he looked intently at you, gaze filled with sentiment and vulnerability—you could notice it there now, that lingering fear of solitude gripping at his chest.

For a moment, you berated yourself, for you knew you'd spent quite some time on your little project, and maybe it had affected your routine more than you cared to admit. You felt a nagging guilt and sorrow for making Astarion even consider the possibility of loneliness again.

You tried shrugging it off. It would be worth it—and you'd be showering him with love and affection in just a moment anyway.

"I made something for you." The words rolled off your tongue more easily than you thought they would. You reached behind you with unsteady hands, heart in your mouth as you held onto your breath.

Astarion stared intently at the black sketchbook that was now clasped between your hands. He looked up at you, and back down, lips pursed in confusion.

"Ever since you told me… you haven't seen yourself in so long," you started, voice gentle as your thumbs traced the leather cover of the book. "And asked me how I saw you. I- I kept thinking about it and… when I found this," you wiggled the sketchbook in the air, "I guess I found a way of showing you…"

You extended the book for him to take, lowering your voice to a near whisper; "how I see you."

A short, trembled gush of air went past Astarion's lips. It was a difficult task to get him speechless, yet you had done it. He said nothing as he ever so carefully took the book from your hands, holding it as if the smallest wrong move could break it.

You watched as his throat worked through a heavy gulp, his eyes shining bright under the faint sunlight, swimming in a pool of sentiment and he hadn't even opened the book yet. Or properly looked at it, for that matter; his eyes still trailed on your face, as if waiting for confirmation that you meant it. Only when you gave him a tiny nod, did he finally look down. It hit you hard that this was probably the first gesture of this kind that he had received in his long life.

Shaky, pale hands reached to turn the first page. He hesitated for only a moment, almost looking afraid. About to see himself after 200 years of living as a ghost.

The first drawing you had made in the book wasn't your best, now that you looked down at it again; a simple portrait of Astarion looking down at a book in his hands, a little rough around the edges, hardly detailed. It had been your first try after not drawing for quite some time.

A beat passed, and a drop of water landed on the bottom corner of the page. You whipped your head up, only to see rogue tears steadily dripping down Astarion's cheeks until they reached his chin and fell on his lap. He cried silently, barely moving; the only signs being the obvious tears and the quivering of his lower lip.

He turned each page as if they were made from the purest gold. Stopping at every single drawing of him, to take it all in. He traced his fingertips over the lines that formed the curves of his curls, the tips of his ears, and the slope of his nose and lips.

People had referred to him as many things already; sexy, alluring, charming, attractive. Never had any of them referred to him as something… precious, delicate, bewitching, more than just a pretty face. Yet that's exactly how he saw himself now, through your eyes.

Astarion took his time, never speaking once. You let him, making yourself comfortable beside him and laying your head on his shoulder, simply existing in each other's presence.

Several minutes had gone by when the elf finally spoke up again. He was finally on the last used page of the book, and when the next appeared in white he slowly closed the book, still grasping onto it reverently. "For a moment I- I thought you'd grown tired of me already," it was the first thing he told you, and he refused to meet your eyes. A humorless chuckle fell past his lips, trying to laugh off his feelings.

You raised your head from his shoulder, lifting a hand to tenderly brush long strands of silver hair behind his ear; as you did so, you allowed your fingers to travel further, burying in the mop of hair behind his head. "Never. Never in a million years," you whispered.

Astarion met your gaze at last, ruby eyes glimmering with unshed tears while dried tracks of the ones before still lingered on his cheeks. This was the real Astarion; fragile, vulnerable, pleading for a gentle love, yet so beautifully strong.

"I'm sorry, my star. For allowing that thought to plague you. I just wanted this to be a surprise." You leaned forward and touched your forehead with his for a brief moment, hoping to bend the rules and physically give him your love.

"You made this," Astarion's voice broke in the middle, yet his smile was the most sincere you'd ever witnessed, "For me."

Catching a single tear that rolled down his cheek, you nodded, with a smile of your own.

There was a beat, a moment of silence where you simply looked at each other, wondering if the other felt just as much. And you didn't need a tadpole connection to confirm it.

Astarion set the sketchbook aside before all but throwing himself at you. Both his arms encircled your waist with desperation as he buried his head in your neck. His lips drew sloppy patterns and raised goosebumps in your skin as he kissed you relentlessly, from shoulder, to neck, to jaw; until he finally reached your own lips.

You brought your arms around him, pulling him in until your very souls were intertwined. Giggles escaped your lips as he kissed you, the shape of both your smiles making it difficult and all the more delightful.

When you parted, Astarion had you pinned down on his bedroll, with him resting snuggly on top of you. He refused to let go, clingy as he'd never dreamt he'd be. Your hand buried in his hair, his nose brushed the skin of your collar bone. "I had asked the gods for salvation, for any kind of blessing, countless times before. I could never guess it would come in the shape of you." He breathed in. He didn't hesitate. "Thank you. I love you."

You felt his smile. Felt the shape of his words on your skin, your soul. You kissed his hairline. "And I love you."

⋆* ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ

Thank you for reading this little story. Feedback and reblogs are literally what keeps me motivated to continue posting here, so I’d appreciate it if you could take some time to reblog and comment. <3

You do not have permission to repost, copy, or translate my works on any platforms (even with credit), please respect.

Astarion’s taglist: @milkiane @v1ci0us

[ilovemitsuya]

Hello, here to request a lil somethin somethin (since you said you’d kiss anyone who did ;))

I really enjoyed the fic u posted with the sick MC soooo I was thinking abt something with either Sylus or Xavier where MC has a secret sketchbook where she draws pretty portraits of him but then he finds out by chance and how would he react?

muah

sylus x reader

decided to do sylus since I know him a bit better

thank you for requesting ♡

I sat cross legged on the floor in front of Sylus’s room, a sketchbook balanced delicately in my lap.

The scratching of my pencil against the paper was the only sound I could focus on as I sketched the corner of his eye.

I had filled pages and pages of this sketchbook with him. Something I could look at while I was in Linkon away from Sylus.

The door to his room was slightly open, I could still hear his voice, giving orders to someone through his phone. I took this chance to keep drawing his face while he wasn’t looking.

The pages of my sketchbook were filled with these little moments. Moments I stole when he wasn't paying attention. He didn't know, of course. I never intended for him to find out.

Suddenly, I heard his door fling open, making me move in a panic I slammed the sketchbook shut, but my fingers fumbled over the pages. I became clumsy in my rush to hide it.

The door to his room flung open without warning, and I jolted, nearly dropping the sketchbook as my heart leapt into my throat.

I clutched the book to my chest, as though holding it there could somehow make it invisible.

“Oh hey Sylus..”

He was already walking toward me.

"What's this?" His voice was calm, but there was a glint of curiosity in his eyes.

He tilted his head slightly, that smirk of his tugging at the corners of his lips. I knew he wasn't going to let it go now.

"Nothing.”I stammered, my hands clutching the sketchbook harder as if I could somehow keep it from him.

His eyes narrowed slightly, a dangerous sort of amusement playing across his features as he approached me. Before I could react, he used his evol to snatch the book from my grasp with ease.

"Sylus, give it back!" I reached out instinctively, but it was too late. He held the book out of my reach, flipping it open with a flick of his fingers.

I could only watch. I stood frozen as his eyes scanned the pages.

"You've been drawing me.” he said finally, his voice low but steady. It wasn't a question.

I chuckled nervously after being caught red handed.

“It’s not what it’s looks like. That’s not you.”

“Oh? That’s not me? “ He turned the sketchbook to my direction and showed me an unfinished drawing of him and Mephisto.

“Must be someone else who looks exactly like me and has a crow by his side.”

I swallowed hard, unsure of how to respond. "I was drawing Mephisto you just got in the way.” That was a stupid thing to say.

“Yeah, whatever you can say to make yourself feel better, Sweetie.”

Sylus moved to the doorway, the sketchbook still in his hands. He kept flipping back and forth through the pages, his eyes scanning each portrait with a sharp gaze, though I couldn't exactly tell what he was thinking.

He closed the book with a quiet snap and looked down at me, that familiar smirk playing at the corner of his lips.

"You've captured me rather well.” he said, his tone deceptively casual.

As he stared at the sketchbook cover I took the chance to snatch it away from his grasp.

But then he raised the sketchbook way too high - basically dangling it out of my reach.

“Nice try, Sweetie.”

"Sylus!" I protested, half laughing but also genuinely desperate to get the book back.

He arched a brow, his smirk deepening as he watched me from above. "What? You don't think I'll keep this for myself?"

"You're going to give that back." I said, though the smile tugging at my lips made it hard to sound serious.

I shot to my feet, reaching for the sketchbook, but of course, he held it effortlessly above his head.

Sylus was tall, and he knew exactly how to use it to his advantage. I stood on my toes, stretching my arms as far as they would go. He didn't even have to move. He just stood there, his dark eyes watching me with amusement as I tried in vain to reach it.

He tilted his head, as if he was considering.

"Hmm... I'm not so sure." His voice had that playful edge now, the kind that told me he was fully enjoying my frustration.

"You've been keeping these drawings hidden from me. Perhaps I should keep the sketchbook hidden from you too."

I jumped a little, trying to swipe it from his hand, but he simply raised his arm higher, looking impossibly tall and completely unreachable.

"Not fair.” I huffed.

He chuckled, his deep voice vibrating through the room. "I don't remember agreeing to play fair." His teasing tone made my eye twitch.

"What do I have to do to get it back?"

His gaze softened just a fraction, though his smirk remained.

"You'll have to earn it." he said, lowering his arm slightly, as if teasing me with the possibility that I might reach it.

"I drew those for you.” I pointed out, trying to reason with him, though it was clear he was having too much fun to give in so quickly.

"Which is why I should keep them, don't you think?" He raised the sketchbook just as I lunged for it again, barely missing it by an inch. His smirk deepened yet again.

I let out an exaggerated groan, rubbing my forehead dramatically. "Sylus, please!"

After another beat of silence, he finally relented but not without one final move. He dropped the sketchbook just enough for me to almost grab it, then caught me off guard by wrapping an arm around my waist, pulling me close as I stretched out for it. His breath was warm against my ear as he leaned down slightly, the sketchbook still just out of reach.

"If you want it…" he whispered, "ask nicely."

I swallowed, rolling my eyes

"Please?”

He chuckled softly, his grip around my waist loosening just enough to let me slip out of his hold. With a triumphant grin, I snatched the sketchbook from his hand before he could change his mind, holding it close to my chest as if I had won some great victory.

Sylus watched me, his smirk softening into something more amused, more tender.

"Do it again.” he said, with a casual grace.

“Do what again?” I looked up at him confused.

"Keep drawing me."

I stared at him for a moment, trying to process his words. His eyes never leaving mine.

His lips twitched into a small smile. "I’m yours to draw, it seems."

I smiled softly, the tension in my chest easing.

As he turned to leave, he paused at the door, glancing over his shoulder.

"Next time," he said, a small smile tugging at his lips, "ask me to sit for you."

Then, with a final glance, he turned and left the room.

I stared at the book in my hands unable to hide the smile spreading across my face.

if you requested already dw! I’ll be uploading your requests soon ♡ tysm

[bloodibambiidoll]

Beautifully Broken (Eric Draven x Reader)

Ever since you arrived to the rehab facility you were sent to, you can’t keep your eyes off of him… 900wk, Unprotected sex, choking, dirty talk 18+MDNI Part 2

A/N: I just saw this movie an hour ago and I am absolutely possessed. Bill skårsgard is the love of my life and this just did something to my brain. You’ll probably be seeing more of him…

Ever since you arrived here there’s only been one thing on your mind, one thing keeping you going and it was him. He was so beautifully broken that you were immediately taken by him, even if you’ve never spoken to him. But you watched. You watch the way he almost always chooses silence over speaking. He never shared at circle or sat with anyone during meal time. You watched his defiance to the guards and doctors. The way he rebelled against them with a stone expression and a locked jaw, still not saying a word. You watched the way he would draw, scribbling away in his sketchbook like it was the only thing in the world to him. The way his large tattooed hands would grip onto the charcoal pencils made your thighs clench and his face was so beautiful it made your heart ache.

His sea green eyes always held a look of determination, his plush pink lips were always slightly downturned and it made you want to know what he looked like when he smiled. His jet black mullet was always slightly messy and the pink sweatsuit sat taunt against his large frame, you’re surprised they even had a size long enough to accommodate his height. He was an irresistible mystery that you wanted to pick apart and piece back together with pieces of your own broken soul. So you couldn’t watch anymore, you couldn’t wander, you had to know. You square your shoulders and march forward with purposeful steps before plopping yourself down at the table next to him.

“Hi.” You give him a soft smile and tell him your name and he just stares at you, those striking eyes roaming your face intently. That ever neutral expression gave nothing away. His eyes lock with yours and you stare at each other like you’re trying to search each other’s minds. After a moment he releases you from his hypnotizing gaze to glance around the room before looking back at you.

“They don’t really like opposite genders sitting with each other.” He rests his hands on the table, tapping the metal of his rings against the cheap glazed wood.

“Yeah? Well I don’t really give a shit.” You tilt your head to the side, your eyes sparkling with mischief and your lips turned up in the most beautifully sinister smirk he’s ever seen.

“I’m Eric.” His corner of his lips raises slightly and it makes your stomach erupt with butterflies. You can’t help but wonder what his laugh sounds like.

“Well, it’s nice to meet you, Eric.”

“Shhh, baby, you gotta be quiet for me.” Eric’s inked hand comes up to cover your mouth as he pounds into you deep and rough from behind. He has you pressed up against the wall in the back of the laundry room with your pink sweatpants pooled at your feet. Your back is arched as far as it can go, your hips meeting his own with each brutal thrust. His free hand is shoved up your sweatshirt, groping your braless tits and playing with your sensitive nipples. Eric leans down to place sloppy kisses on your neck and it has your pussy clenching around him. “Are you gonna cum for me?”

“Mhm!” You moan into his palm, your drool starting to drip down his wrist. Eric moves his hand from your mouth so he can grip onto your throat instead and it has your eyes rolling back.

“I want to hear you say my name when you fall apart on my cock.” His voice is like honey when his lips ghost against your skin, his breath sending shivers down your spine. “Touch yourself for me.”

“Fuck, oh my god, I’m so close.” You bring your hand between your legs and find your slick clit, the feeling of your fingertips against your sensitive bud sending you over the edge. “Fuck, Eric! I’m coming, I’m fucking coming.”

“Yeah, that’s my girl, fucking cum for me.” His grip on your throat tightens as he fucks into you mercilessly, chasing his own high. “I’m going to fill you up so deep it won’t be leaking out until we are in the yard for gym hour and you start doing jumping jacks.”

“Oh, fuuuuck. That’s- that’s so fucking hot, please please, give it to me. Give me your cum, Eric.” You reach behind you to yank on the hair at the nape of his neck and it has his hips stilling against yours while he spills inside of you.

“Fuck, that’s my good fucking girl.” Eric growls in your ear as his cock continues to twitch inside you, filling you to the brim just like he promised. He pulls out gently, holding onto you with one arm so your legs don’t give out. He runs his fingers along your inner thighs and over your sensitive pussy, gathering the cum that leaked out before pushing it back in. “Wouldn’t want any to go to waste.”

He leans down and pulls up your pants and your panties before flipping you around so your back is against the wall. Eric chuckles before smiling down at you sweetly, those beautiful green eyes twinkling with adoration and it’s everything you could’ve ever dreamed. He’s so beautifully broken, and entirely yours.

Divider is by @thecutestgrotto

[fluffylino]

strawberries and cream with hyunjin🍓

-suggestive themes (its all very soft)

hyunjin hummed away, as he took a bite of the strawberry. you dipped one in the whipped sweet cream, relishing its sweetness.

"the strawberries are extra sweet this season" you shook your head, throwing him a side eye when he reached for the same one as you. before you could reach it, he gobbled it down whole.

"hyunjinnnn" he smiled, his teeth stained with a lightish pink juice.

it was a peaceful silence as he doodled away in his sketchbook. you too were writing down some stories in your diary.

the two bowls, one of strawberries and another of cream sat between the two of you. he was on one side of the couch and you on the other side, using the armrest to keep your book steady.

the sunlight peeked through the gap between the curtains, just enough to light up the room with a yellow haze.

"oh nooo" you let out, stuffing the berry in your mouth before anymore cream could fall on you.

you looked around for a handtowel on the table behind, freezing when you felt his breath on your neck. his warm breath was followed by an even warmer sensation.

he licked the cream off. making sure to run his tongue over the spot. giving you a soft smile he went back to what he was doing. you blinked multiple times, brain refusing to form sentences.

"it couldve fallen on the couch" he mumbled. he faced you, eyes focused on your lips. hesitantly you ran your sleeve over it.

"c'mere"

you scooted closer, carefully. he cupped your face in his hands, leaning in to press his lips on yours.

"you always make a mess"

you could feel your cheeks heat up, when he pulled away, swiping his tongue over his bottom lip, which had cream all over it.

"you don't want me to write, do you" you commented, realising this was his way of asking for attention.

"and now, you don't want me to go back to sketching, do you?" he tilted his head in a cute way. a smile threatening to erupt.

of course you didn't want him to. in fact from the second he sharpened his pencil, you wished he would look at you with the same eagerness.

you picked up a strawberry. now being extra careful, dipped it in the cream.

"hyunjinnie, open wide ahhh" you said in a baby voice, moving it around just like how babies are fed. he giggled opening his mouth.

"is it delicious hm, my baby" you cooed, patting under his chin. hyunjin hummed, eyes going all puppylike.

"you know what would make it even better?"

"hm?"

he extended his arm, pulling you to him by the base of your neck. your eyes widened.

"say ahhh"

you did as he said. he kissed you. pushing it into your mouth. the fruity juices ran down the corners of your mouth. he seemed to notice, immediately pulling you even closer. licking it up desperately.

you moved away, head slightly throbbing from the aftertaste of the kiss. his soft lips still lingering on yours

"don't do that" you muttered, feeling your heart beat increase.

you placed your hands on his chest, pushing him lightly. he took another, holding it to your mouth, waiting for you to take it from him. pressing his thumb against my bottom lip, he kept your mouth open.

"one more" he whispered, kissing you much deeper this time. it was slow, almost a little too slow. you were starting to get impatient as he explored at his own pace. arms looped around his neck to hold him there, you weren't going to let him get away. your book and pen falling off your lap onto the floor. he himself, mindlessly took his sketchbook, throwing it on the table behind.

all while he chased your lips.

your fingers tangled up in his long hair.

hyunjin gasped as you pulled at his locks.. now looking at you with pure need.

pure love.

your eyes trailed down to where reminants of pink cream had dripped down his chin. you tugged his hair, loving the way his breath hitched.

"another strawberry please" he teased.

[landososcar]

packing it up ; LN4

— pairing(s) ; college hockey player!lando x figure skater!reader

— summary ; in which lando's transfer to a new school not only brings him a new team, classes, and friends, but a girl who will change his life forever.

— warnings ; not edited, i'm not american, im also not a figure skater so there's probs plenty of inaccuracies lolll

chapter two — prev … next

⸝⸝ ʚ 𖥔❆ ! ⌗ °•˚❆ ˖⋆*ೃ ༄

that night, i couldn’t stop replaying the dinner conversation in my head. lily’s unwavering support wasn’t surprising—she’d always been in my corner—but lando? his empathy had caught me completely off guard. i didn’t know if it made me feel comforted or embarrassed. 

as i lay in bed staring at the ceiling, lost in thought, my phone buzzed on the nightstand.

i sat up, my heart skipping a beat as i reread the message. my thumbs hovered over the screen, but i had no idea how to respond. why would lando go out of his way to talk to his mum about me? we weren’t close; i barely knew him.

but as i put my phone down, a spark of hope flickered in my chest.

⸝⸝ ʚ 𖥔❆ ! ⌗ °•˚❆ ˖⋆*ೃ ༄

the next morning, i returned to the rink, throwing myself into practice with a determination that bordered on desperation. the icy air bit at my cheeks as i glided across the ice, pushing my body to its limits. the rhythmic sound of my blades slicing through the rink was usually soothing, but today it wasn’t enough to quiet my thoughts and the knot in my chest wouldn’t loosen.

i was mid-spin when a warm, unfamiliar voice called out from the edge of the rink.

“beautiful form.” startled, i faltered slightly but regained my balance before turning toward the source. a woman stood near the boards, dressed in a stylish coat and scarf, her posture poised and confident. there was something familiar about her—the same warm eyes, the same gentle smile, “you must be y/n.”

i skated over, unsure of what to say. “that’s me. and you are...?”

“cisca norris,” she said, extending a hand. “lando’s mum. he told me a bit about your situation, and i thought i’d come take a look.”

my cheeks flushed with embarrassment. “oh, i—he didn’t need to do that.”

she smiled kindly. “he’s a good boy, my lando. and a little stubborn when he wants to help. i’m glad he told me, though. i can see you’re very talented.”

“thank you,” i said, still feeling flustered. “but i don’t even have a partner or a coach anymore. i’m kind of stuck.”

her expression softened. “you’re not stuck. you’re just at a crossroads. if you’re willing to put in the work, i’d be happy to help.”

“you’d... coach me?” my voice cracked slightly, disbelief colouring the words. i didn’t know what to say – i didn’t want to be a burden to her, and i didn’t know how to repay her.

she nodded. “i haven’t coached in years, but i still know what it takes. and i’ve got a really good feeling about you, y/n.”

i blinked rapidly, overwhelmed by the sudden rush of emotion. “thank you, b-but i don’t know how to repay you for this… i don’t know what to say.”

“say you’ll show up tomorrow ready to work,” she said smiling, “we’ll take it one step at a time.” i nodded almost desperately and she must’ve seen the water brimming on my eyes because she went to pull me into a hug, “and as for payment,” she said gently, “just make sure my son is feeling at home, would you?”

i laughed softly, wiping my eyes. “i was gonna do that anyway.”

“i thought you might say that,” she said with a smile, brushing an invisible strand of hair from my face before we parted.

⸝⸝ ʚ 𖥔❆ ! ⌗ °•˚❆ ˖⋆*ೃ ༄

as i got back to my dorm for the night, i was greeted by my best friend’s beautiful smile. lily was sprawled across her bed, headphones on and sketchbook in hand, her pencil moving in quick, confident strokes.

she looked up as i closed the door behind me, her eyes lighting up. “hey! how was the rink?”

i kicked off my shoes, my heart still buzzing from the day’s events. “you’re not going to believe this.”

her eyebrows shot up in intrigue as she sat up straighter. “spill. right now.”

i tossed my bag onto my bed and sank into the desk chair, still trying to process everything myself. “okay, so... lando talked to his mum about me. apparently, she’s a former skating coach.”

lily’s jaw dropped. “no way.”

“and not only that—she came to the rink today. she offered to coach me, lily. can you believe it? out of nowhere, she just... showed up and said she wanted to help.”

for a moment, lily just stared at me, then she let out an excited squeal, throwing her arms in the air. “i knew it! i told you lando was the best! and his mum? she sounds like an actual legend.”

i laughed, her enthusiasm infectious. “she is. i mean, she’s amazing. the way she coaches, the way she just... believes in me. i don’t even know how to thank her—or him, for that matter.”

lily rolled onto her stomach, propping her chin in her hands. “you thank her by killing it at practice tomorrow. and as for lando...” she smirked mischievously. “you could always bake him cookies or something. or, you know, just say thank you like a normal person.”

i rolled my eyes, though i couldn’t help but smile. “i’ll figure it out. but honestly, it feels like things might actually be looking up for the first time in forever.”

lily beamed at me, her expression softening. “of course they are. you’re incredible, y/n. you just needed the right people in your corner. and now you’ve got them.”

warmth spread through me, easing some of the tension that had been weighing me down for weeks. i didn’t say it out loud, but lily’s unwavering belief in me meant just as much as cisca’s. maybe, just maybe, she was right. maybe things really were finally looking up.

⸝⸝ ʚ 𖥔❆ ! ⌗ °•˚❆ ˖⋆*ೃ ༄

the next morning, i arrived at the rink early, my nerves humming with anticipation as i laced up my skates, the sharp cold of the ice already creeping through my layers. today wasn’t just another practice.it was the first step toward figuring out my future—and maybe, just maybe, rebuilding what i thought i’d lost.

as i stood on the ice, stretching and warming up, cisca arrived. she walked in with a graceful confidence that made her instantly commanding yet approachable. a small bag hung from her shoulder, and her warm smile made me feel instantly at ease.

“good morning, y/n,” she greeted, her voice as gentle as it had been the day before.

“good morning,” i replied, my voice trembling slightly with nerves.

she set her bag down on the bench and pulled out a notebook, “i have to admit, i missed this,” she said, almost to herself. “it’s been a while since i’ve coached, but it all comes back so easily.”

i couldn’t help but smile, her enthusiasm was a little contagious. “thank you for doing this. it means more to me than i can say.”

she waved a hand dismissively, though her smile softened. “lando said he’s been told you’re very talented,” she paused with a smile, “i think you’ve got some amazing friends willing to help you however they can… let’s get started.”

the next hour passed in a blur of movement and focus, diving into the intricacies of technique. cisca’s coaching style was unlike anything i’d experienced. she was direct, offering feedback that was honest but never harsh. when i struggled with a step or faltered during a spin, she didn’t scold; she analyzed.

“your jump is good, but let’s work on the timing of your takeoff,” she said at one point, skating out onto the ice to demonstrate. “if you push off too early, you lose momentum. watch me.”

she executed the jump with ease, landing gracefully and turning back to me with an encouraging nod. “now you.”

i tried again, this time paying closer attention to her tips, and when i landed smoothly, she clapped lightly. “there it is! perfect.”

her praise sent a swell of pride through me, something i hadn’t felt in months. maria had always been strict and demanding, rarely offering compliments unless the move was flawless. with cisca, it felt different. her belief in me wasn’t conditional; it was unwavering.

by the end of the session, my muscles ached in a satisfying way, and my spirits were higher than they’d been in weeks. i sat on the bench unlacing my skates when cisca joined me, her expression thoughtful.

“you’re a hard worker,” she said, breaking the comfortable silence. “that’s a quality even the most talented skaters can lack. if you keep that up, you’re going to go far.”

i looked at her, unsure how to put my gratitude into words. “thank you,” i said, my voice soft. “for everything. i don’t know how to repay you.”

her hand rested lightly on mine, her touch warm and reassuring. “you don’t owe me anything, y/n. i’m happy to help. and honestly,” she added with a playful smile, “you’ve already made it worth my while just by showing up and giving it your all.”

i chuckled, feeling my cheeks warm. “still... thank you.”

she leaned back slightly, her gaze turning more serious. “and don’t forget what i said yesterday—make sure lando feels at home here. he’s putting on a brave face, but i know my son. he’s adjusting, too.”

the mention of lando made me pause, her words stirring something in me. “i will,” i promised. “he’s been so kind to me already. he must get it from you.”

cisca smiled, her eyes crinkling at the corners in a way that reminded me of lando. “he’s got his moments,” she said with a wink.

⸝⸝ ʚ 𖥔❆ ! ⌗ °•˚❆ ˖⋆*ೃ ༄

later that afternoon, i found myself walking back toward the skating arena. lando had practice, and while i hadn’t planned on going, cisca’s words lingered in my mind. i owed him at least a thank-you.

the unmistakable sound of skates cutting across ice greeted me as i stepped inside. the cold air nipped at my cheeks, but the energy of the rink was infectious. players zipped back and forth, their movements sharp and deliberate, the clatter of sticks and pucks echoing through the space.

it didn’t take long to spot him. lando moved with a precision that stood out, his focus intense as he weaved through the defence. even as someone unfamiliar with hockey, i could tell he was good—really good.

when he skated off the ice for a break, he noticed me standing near the boards. his face lit up with surprise as he walked over, his cheeks flushed from exertion. “y/n! didn’t expect to see you here.”

i smiled, feeling slightly awkward because of the other men around us, but pushing through it. “i just wanted to say thank you. for talking to your mum. she’s... amazing. i can’t believe she’s helping me.”

he grinned, leaning casually against the boards. “told you she was the best. so, how’d it go?”

“she’s incredible,” i said earnestly. “i feel like i might actually have a chance now. i don’t know how to repay either of you.”

“you don’t need to,” he said easily. “mum wouldn’t do it if she didn’t believe in you. and honestly, i’m glad i could help. you’ve been through enough.”

his sincerity caught me off guard, and for a moment, i just looked at him, unsure what to say. finally, i smiled. “well, i owe you at least a coffee or something.”

he laughed, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “i’ll hold you to that.” i laughed, watching him skate back onto the ice with the rest of his team before heading out of the bulky double doors and back to lily and i’s shared dorm. 

later that night, as i laid in bed trying to rid my mind of the pretty boy with the brown curls so i could sleep, my phone lit up with a notification. i sighed and debated on checking it, knowing the light from my phone would completely restart my attempt at sleeping. i grabbed it from the bed side table and couldnt help the upturn of my lips when i saw what it said.

landonorris started following you!

⸝⸝ ʚ 𖥔❆ ! ⌗ °•˚❆ ˖⋆*ೃ ༄

a/n ; i’m so sorry this took so long lmaooo chapter 3 is pretty much done so i’ll post it asap (fr this time)

taglist (comment or send an ask to be added<3) ; @leclercdream @britenysbitch @cabbyhabs @jule239 @tvdtw4ever @doofenshmirtzevil-inc @f1and1d4eva @sid-is-gr8

[miguelhugger2099]

Punk!Miguel who’s proud of his tattoos. At least most of them. He has some professionally done and others were stick and pokes from when him and Gabriel were younger.

Punk!Miguel who watches you with a smile when you touch up and down his arm. He hides the shivers down his spine when your perfectly manicured pink and green nails rake across the art decorated on him.

“What’s this one?” You poke at a terrible done smiley face, it was a little blobbed but barely noticeable with the much nicer ones done around it.

“One of the first tries my brother did on me when he was starting out.”

“And you kept it?” You tilt your head with a scrunch of your nose. Miguel laughs.

“Sentimental value.”

You scoff. “No way.”

“Yeah, way.” He takes your hands and pulls you closer, lugging you forward onto his lap where you belonged. Getting yourself comfortable you placed your hands on his chest.

“Are you just gonna have them on your arms?” You ask, tugging down his shirt for a peek at any new ones. Miguel smirks and stops your peeking by tsking and shaking his head—a knowing look on his face.

“Course not but tattoos cost money, babe.”

“You should get one of me.” You pout your lips, crossing your arms that makes you seem snobbish.

“What? Like get one of your face?” He laughs and leans back on his hands.

“No! Like—I dunno! Something sentimental about…me?” You look away, feeling the prickling embarrassment crawling up your neck. “Never mind!”

“Oh, so you want to be on my body, huh?” He teases, taking your hand and sliding it under his tank top to feel his warm stomach, faint dips of abs.

“You know what I mean!” You whine, feeling frozen with him holding your hand in place. He can’t help but find you adorable. Letting go of your hand to come around your waist as he leans up again, one hand coming down to cup your ass. He swallows your squeak with a kiss, unable to stop himself from biting into your sweetness.

Punk!Miguel who—even if he teased you about it—actually adored the idea of having a tattoo of you on him.

Punk!Miguel who thought day and night of what could represent you. Flowers he felt was done often, your name was cute but basic and anything else could very well be mistaken for something else. He wanted something that was obviously you.

Punk!Miguel who was rearranging his room again, bustling through various boxes for some spring cleaning.

Punk!Miguel who found his box of memories from when you two first began dating. It had been filled with all your gifts and letters you’d given him—every last piece saved securely in the corner of his room.

He smiles as he opens the box up again. Some pieces of papers falling out and the little broken keychain you got to match with him until it snapped when he accidentally sat on it.

He sits at his desk, flipping through the pages and tiny plushies you’ve given him. His heart swelling at the swirls in your writing with blue ink—the bunny pen you always wrote with.

The smile on his face continues as he reads through your words of love for him—words that you often found too difficult to say. He slams his forehead on the desk, blush coating his cheeks and ears while he groans loudly.

Each letter you’d given him ended with a print of your kiss mark at the very bottom. Some of it was a matte red, others was a faint glitter stain, but most of it was a soft pinkish color. The kind that was glossy and gave you just enough color that it looked tinted and natural.

His finger grazes the mark, an idea popping in his head.

Punk!Miguel who goes to a tattoo shop he was very well acquainted with, with an artist he knew extra well.

He slams his arm on the counter where a man was behind it, sucking on a lollipop and doodling in his sketchbook. The guy raises an annoyed brow.

“Do you have any space open for a walk-in client?” Miguel asks with a smirk.

“I don’t have space for annoying ones.” He sighs and puts his drawing pad away.

“I have money this time, Gabri. Plus, family discount.”

Punk!Miguel who is both afraid and excited to show you what he’s done to himself. He feels his heart hammering while he preps himself to show you. He’d done the aftercare as precisely as possible, taking extra care of it because this was no ordinary tattoo.

Punk!Miguel that lets you take off his shirt when he tells you he’s gotten a tattoo of you.

Punk!Miguel who smiles with amusement when you gasp and hit his arm that you were joking before! That tattooing is a permanent thing! He tells you that he knows.

His heart stills when you eyes land on his chest. On his left side, where his heart would be was your kiss mark. Just like the ones you left on the letters you used to give him.

You touch your lips subconsciously, your other set of fingers hovering over his lifted skin. You look up for permission and he nods, brining himself closer.

You marvel at the piece of work that replicated your lips. “Oh, Miguel…” You sigh, blinking back tears.

“Are you getting emotional?”

“No!”

He brings you to his chest in a tight hug, your hand still resting beside your kiss mark now permanently etched on his person—a permanent reminder that he is yours and that he loves you.

[atlasscrumpit]

Hannibal/Will x Reader

He was an addiction, he knew well enough what he did to you and he enjoyed every second of it.

Will had warned you over and over, but it was too late, you were trapped in Hannibal's web of obsession and sickly desires.

Will sat across from Hannibal, staring him down.

"I don't know what your plan is here, but it shouldn't involve Y/N. She is young and naive." Will grumbled making Hannibal chuckle softly.

"She's lonely and vulnerable, I merely want to take care of her." He responded making Will scoff and roll his eyes.

"You enjoy that she is naive and relies on you, until one day you'll shatter her heart and kill her." He growled, Hannibal tilted his head with a smirk.

"You think I would kill something as beautiful as her? I just wish to sculpt her into the best person she can be. She's a very smart young woman and could be very useful to me." Hannibal replied, Will's eyes darkened as he glared at his 'friend.'

"You're taking advantage of her and you know it." Will warned, his voice low.

"You don't know her like I do, she's fragile... A wilting flower, to anyone else they would just leave her to whither away." Hannibal spoke, his voice smooth with barely any emotion like usual.

"So, you would rather manipulate her then let her live her life?" He asked making Hannibal smile again.

"She wasn't going to make it past college, she was on the edge when I found her, one day away from suicide. Much like you were, Will." Hannibal mocked as Will's jaw tightened.

It wasn't a secret that Hannibal liked to collect broken things.

"Excuse me for trying to save someone from the same fate I suffered." He grumbled as Hannibal stood up and moved towards Will.

He reached down and tilted his chin up.

"Do I sense some jealously, Mr. Graham?" He teased, Will's eyes glaring into his very soul.

"I'm not jealous of her, I'm worried for her." He replied, doing his best to keep his anger in check.

"How sweet..." Hannibal muttered studying Will's face.

They both heard a noise and turned to see you coming around the corner.

"Y/N?" Will questioned, he hadn't been aware you were here.

"Hey, Will... Is everything okay?" You asked glancing at Hannibal as he offered you a soft smile.

"Everything is perfect, my dear. I was just comforting Will after a hard day. Are you all set up in your new room?" Hannibal asked, letting go of Will's face.

Will looked between you and Hannibal in confusion.

"New room?" He questioned as you smiled and sat across from Will.

"Yeah... There was a fire at the dorms, mine has the worst damage so Hannibal offered to let me stay here." You explained as Will glanced at Hannibal.

"A fire... How unfortunate." He grumbled as Hannibal smiled innocently.

"Yes, very unfortunate. But, Y/N is lucky to have us in her life to help her out. Isn't that right, Will?" Hannibal said.

"Very lucky." Will said, a slight scowl on his face as you smiled and sat beside him.

"At least I can spend some more time with you guys... Plus, Hannibal feeds me a lot better then I feed myself. I'll take his cooking over microwave meals any day." You said with a chuckle making Hannibal smile.

"Exactly, you deserve a lot better than some measly microwave meals." He said, mischief in his eyes as he looked at you

Will wanted to scream at you to run while you still could, but he knew it was too late.

After all this is exactly what had been done to him.

--

That night you sat up in bed doing some sketching when your door opened and you saw Will.

"Oh, hey. I didn't think you were still here." You said with a smile as you put your sketchbook down.

"He's lying, Y/N. You're a smart girl, so either you're not as smart as I thought or there's something else going on." Will said as you looked at him and sighed a little.

"I knew... I know he set that fire." You muttered making Will shake his head and sit on the side of your bed.

"Then why are you staying here?" He grumbled and you looked at him and hugged your knees to your chest.

"I've never had someone care about me like he does." You whispered, Will looker at you sadly.

"Y/N, you have to get out while you still can. You know what he is capable of." He said as you sighed.

"Maybe I'm capable all the same..." You replied.

"No, you aren't. Do not go down this path, do you hear me?" He warned as you sighed and rested your head on your knees.

"You know what he did to Abigail. She trusted him and he killed her as if it were nothing. You need to run." He growled as you looked at him again.

"There's a difference between Abigail and I. She hated herself for killing... I embraced it." You said as he looked at you in confusion.

"Y/N, what the hell did you do?" He asked in shock.

"I set the fire. I was also the one who killed my professor and my roommate, and my father, and my two sisters." You replied as he stared at you in shock.

"What?" He muttered as you smiled.

"You're lucky I like you Will, I like you and Hannibal together. You're like the fathers I never had..." Your face darkened.

"Don't fucking ruin this for me, don't ruin my family." You growled, as Will finally the real you behind the innocent girl you had been playing.

"Why not be truthful to Hannibal? Hannibal of all people would be happy to know you're a killer." He said as you smiled, the innocent facade coming back.

"We both know he knows, Hannibal is smart. But, we both like to play the part of the protective daddy and the innocent little girl." You said with a sickly sweet smile.

"Seems your perfect for each other after all."

[chaos-in-deepspace]

L&DS Rafayel: Pouty Portraits | Drabble

So @la-spooky ended up inspiring me to make this little drabble of the fish on accident. You know, when inspiration hits, you go with it. Now personally I can't draw at all, my artistic talents ends at being able to string words into pretty stories, but I hope you artists out there enjoy this. Even if you don't consider yourself an artist and just doodle, this is for you.

Pairing: Rafayel x Reader Warning: N/A Disclaimer: This is an original fan work for “Love and Deepspace”. Do not repost on other platforms or plagiarize. All characters shown in this fic is 18+.

Blog Information | Masterlist

Rafayel

Art was something of a guilty pleasure. You wouldn’t say you were an expert at it, especially not when compared to your boyfriend, Rafayel, but you certainly weren’t bad at it by any means. It was just something you couldn’t do often; you had your career to think about, which would always come first. It was something you had to sacrifice in order to stay focused on your mission, even if it was painful.

Still, as you relaxed in the studio, bored out of your mind, you couldn’t help but want to go back to those days where you’d laze about your room with a sketchpad and some music to keep you company. You looked over at your boyfriend who was promptly passed out on the couch after having pulled another all nighter. He had invited you over for a date, but by the time you arrived exhaustion had already taken him.

You hadn’t the heart to wake him up, so you did your best to entertain yourself until he woke up. Originally you had taken to playing on your phone, a few mobile apps and social media was enough to catch your attention for a while. The longer you sat around though, the more tempted you had gotten.

Rafayel had his studio littered with sketchbooks in every corner so he’d never have to worry about looking for one when inspiration hit. You were certain he wouldn’t notice a few pages going missing after you ripped them out.

With that in mind, you grabbed hold of one of the sketchbooks that had been teasing you, and some pencils to sketch with. You flipped open the pages, your heart blooming with affection at the gorgeous sketches that were in the book. You finally found a blank page and sighed. It almost felt like you were committing a crime, drawing in a sketchbook like this. His artwork was flawless, and you…well you could draw at least.

You sighed and grabbed your phone, popping in some headphones and listening to music. You took one more glance at your sleeping boyfriend before deciding to just draw him. So you did, mainly just several headshots to help you get into the groove of making art.

You didn’t even know how much time had passed as you moved to the third page, ready to draw your sleeping boyfriend since he was right there. Your eyes went upwards to where he was…or had been. You blinked in confusion, noticing Rafayel was noticeably not on the couch anymore.

Your head swiveled for a moment before suddenly you were staring directly into those sunset eyes. Your own widened in surprise and your brain buffered before you let out a shrill scream. You clutched the book close to your chest as you backed up. You could hear Rafayel's jovial laughing through your headphones, which you promptly ripped out to scold him.

“Raf, what the fuck, when did you wake up?” You said, glaring at him. Amusement swam in those beautiful eyes of his as he reached over and took the sketchbook out of your hands.

“Were you drawing me?” He said, looking at the pages of headshot sketches you had done. You felt a small blush creeping up your cheeks as you tried to be stern with him.

“Answering my question with a totally off topic question isn’t what I wanted, you know.” You huffed, going to take the book back, but he pulled it closer to him.

“These are really good, you captured my essence perfectly…why didn’t you ever tell me you could draw?” Rafayel said, never looking up from the sketches. You groaned and looked away, feeling bashful as a true, recognized artist looked at your crude warm up pieces.

“It’s just an old pastime of mine, nothing more.” You said, “Sorry I used your stuff, I should’ve asked.” You admitted.

“What’s mine is yours.” He said offhandedly, “Still, can I keep these? I really like them.” He said and you looked confused for a moment before nodding.

“If you really want to, I guess you can. They’re in your sketchbook after all.” You shrugged, “Why would you want them anyway? You could do a way better self portrait.”

“I don’t want a self portrait made by me…although I have to ask why did you draw this expression on me?” He said, pointing at all of your sketches having a similar theme.

“Your pouting face was…inspiring.” You settled on; Rafayel didn’t look amused by this, in turn showing you that adorable pout. He looked away for a moment before getting an idea. A smile gracing his pretty face.

“Well how about you do a proper drawing of me.” He started, leaning close with a sly grin, “You can draw me from reference. I’ll sit however you want, just make sure to get my good angle…wait never mind, that would be all my angles.”

You bit the inside of your cheek as you fought your inner emotional turmoil, “Okay, but it won’t look good, you know?” You pointed out. Rafayel's eyes furrowed in a confused expression, his hand cupping your chin to make you look at him.

“Anything you make is breathtaking.” He said, “I wouldn’t ask anyone to draw me. I’m very selective. Consider yourself lucky.”

“Cocky bastard.” You said, but didn’t bother to slap his hand away, “But fine…I’ll sketch you but on one condition.”

Rafayel smirked, “And what would that be?”

“Later you…need to give me a drawing lesson or two.” You said and his eyes widened in surprise before taking a soft turn.

“Sure, but why are you suddenly so interested in drawing when you said it was just a pastime…unless you deceived me earlier.” He said, trying to lighten the mood. He could see the unsure expression on your face as you stared off to the side.

“Because drawing like this again reminded me how much I enjoyed it.” Even though you knew you needed to focus on being a good hunter and a steller bodyguard…perhaps you can give yourself some enjoyment in your life again. Art was freeing and you had dearly missed it.

Rafayel's hand was still on your chin as he forced your eyes back on him. He pressed his forehead against your own and stared into your eyes, “Anytime you want to relax and draw, just let me know.” He said, clearly realizing just how stressed you had been.

You smiled, relaxing into his touch, “Fine…shall we get started? Things are getting a bit too depressing in here.” You joked. Rafayel's grin seemed to spread once more.

“Sure…so did you want to do a nude sketch ooooor?”

“Oh my god Raf, just lay on the damn couch…clothes on.”

Hope y'all enjoyed this one! It was fun to write, and honestly I think formatting this took longer than the actual writing lol.

[just-another-personal-side-blog]

Session 0 - Damian Priest x Tattoo Artist

Part 1 of 6

Rating: T

Beta Reader: @jstarr86

“Trust me Dam, she’s the best at what she does. It doesn’t hurt that I’d trust her with my life. You’ve been going on about finally getting that back piece, there’s no one better.” Rhea practically herded him towards what looked like an absolute hole in the wall, his nerves judged it based on first appearance.

“Most of my art was done by her, I’ve been meaning to introduce Dom as well. You got first dibs of course.” She paused at the door giving him a single raised brow, “You do trust me, don’t you Damian?”

Cornered he let out a sigh, it doesn’t hurt to at least take a look to appease her. 

“Fine, after you.” 

A bell above the door could just barely be heard over the heavy rock that beat like a pulse within the confines of the lobby. Framed detailed tattoo sketches hung upon the walls, behind the front desk were a collection of awards and licenses to prove this place was legit. Folders full of premade basic bitch designs sat on the coffee table by comfortable leather chairs, Rhea pressed a button at the front. No sound could be heard but in a span of seconds a young woman came out from the back.

“How can I- Oh! Shit! Rhea! Hey girl! Why didn’t you give me a heads up that you were coming?” Priest looked up from one of the framed pieces he was admiring. Apparently the new arrival hadn’t noticed him from the angle he was standing, not something he was used to given his size. He took a moment to admire the person before him…

Purple faux hawk with an under-fade, full tattoo sleeves on both arms, legs, and back, several piercings both visible and one not, brilliant blue eyes with some intense metallic goth eye makeup and a stunning smile. A pair of fake leather leggings with lace ups on the outside of the legs, a fishnet crop top under a Beetlejuice tank top, tying it all together was a basic durable black dog collar and a pair of Demonia knee length boots.Unlike the blonde Barbie she was finishing up, Rhea’s friend wasn’t stick skinny. She was probably a good size 9 or 10, there was some plump flesh but it appeared to have some sturdy muscle underneath. A full pair of breasts accentuated beautifully with the fishnet, and hips perfect to dig fingers into.

“I brought a friend that I thought you might like meeting, he’s been talking about wanting a new big tat for awhile now. So I told him there's only one person I’d trust with that.” After a moment the girl turned to look at him, there was immediate recognition as well as shock across her features. It was brief and fleeting before putting up a friendly facade.

It took Rhea slapping on the bicep to smack Damian back present, realizing he’d been staring at the artist long after the gal she’d been working on had left happily. Meaning he had given her an intense resting bitch for a good minute now. Incredibly embarrassed Priest offered a hand which she accepted with an impressive firm hand shake.

“You can call me Minnie, only people I like get to use that.” Rhea playful shoulder checked her with a warm smile,

“It’s short for Minerva, her parents were from Athens originally”

“So your namesake is a Goddess of War, seems fitting.” Bright sky blue eyes flicked up from the sketchbook she’d grabbed to start jotting ideas from him. And without pause blossomed like a Sunflower, taking note of the dimple on her right cheek. 

“Best make sure you never get on my bad side, Rhea has some great stories of me chasing off her exes prior to Wrestling. I’m only five years older than her, not to mention like 5 inches shorter even without those elevator shoes she stomps around in.”

“Wouldn’t have guessed that at all. Both of you still don’t have me beat.”

“Well you clearly discovered immortality in high school, because you haven't aged a bit.”

Rhea perched herself on the spare stool in the room, a mischievous sparkle in her eyes as she watched the two getting comfortable with their back and forth.

“What she neglected to mention is the three times she chased them off with a metal bat wrapped in barbed wire and nails welded to it.”

“Jokes on you, I still sleep with that bat beside my bed. Safety first and all that fun stuff. Safer than a machete, I’d rather not accidentally stab myself in my sleep.”

“That’s why we’re best friends.” The Aussie grins before giving Minnie a cheeky wink.

“Why do I feel like I got led into a trap?” She wrinkled her nose at Damian before opening the sketchbook before her.

“You have nothing to worry about Butterscotch, I take my art very seriously. Now let’s start discussing what you’re looking to get and where. I’ll let you know now, that while I’m sure you’re likely VERY blessed… I don’t do anything where I gotta see dick or vag.”

Priest momentarily choked on his saliva while Rhea guffawed in glee. A quick side eye glare at her smothered the sound to a quiet chuckle. Something about her felt like she was messing with the poor Puerto Rican man, akin to a cat staring directly at their owner while pushing a glass of water off the counter playfully.

“You’ve already got plenty of gorgeous pieces on that flawless flesh. What are you thinking of doing?”

No hesitation he pulled his t-shirt up and over while turning to show the empty expanse of his back. Her breath caught audibly, eyes briefly went wide glancing at Ripley wildly. The female wrestler grinned like the Cheshire Cat, watching each interaction with fascination. Plans coming to fruition.

The tattooer bit down hard on the inside of her cheek to focus on what he was actually saying. Once locked in, Minnie began to sketch up fluidly upon paper, at one point he was leaning over her shoulder admiring the work of a talented creative. Bringing his vision to life on the crisp white paper, each description rumbled like incoming thunder located in the man’s voice box. Thank god for hyperfocus cuz lord only knows this was gonna be a genuine challenge for her self-control. All she wanted to do was trace those tattoos on him with her tongue. She had to shake her head to focus back in again, hands working on autopilot, taking in his words with each glide of charcoal across parchment. 

When he finished describing it she looked back up at him with a friendly smile,

“How big are you thinking of making it? So I know what to prepare for, as well as how many sessions to schedule in advance.” He tilted his head in thought momentarily before answering,

“Ideally I’d like it to cover a majority of my back.” She nodded in agreement,

“Alright, I’ve got the sketch started. I'll email you three different versions and you let me know what you like and what you don’t. And if there's aspects you like in one and want to add it to another one, just let me know. This is your tattoo on your skin, I want you to love it decades from now. How’s that sound?”  Damian was genuinely impressed with her professionalism, even as he controls the strong desire to flirt with her. This was a time to behave, she was Rhea’s best friend, and thus not someone to attempt to make any moves towards. 

“That sounds great to me, thanks.” Her smile was so sweet it could have made him diabetic just looking at it. 

“Great. Oh and Rhea, let me know when you want to come in and do those matching ghost tattoos with Dom.” 

“No rush, he’s busy planning his wedding right now so it’s gonna be a bit.”

“Sounds good to me. Now unfortunately I do have another client coming in twenty minutes so I gotta start prepping.” She pulled a business card from her bra, handing it over to Damian,

“My email and personal number is on there in case you think of something you want to add to the tat.Sound good?” Minnie gave a bashful little smile, and it made something deep in his chest want to say something incredibly forward. Rhea snagged him by the elbow, grinning like a cat that caught the canary. 

A nod of thanks was all he got out before being ushered back out, quicker than able to verbalize his appreciation. Ripley called back loudly,

“Thanks love! I’ll make sure he remembers to check his email regularly.” As if he didn’t already do that for work contacts to begin with. Once back in the car Priest gave his companion a look of utter suspicion, he could tell that she had ulterior motives. Nothing vicious or cruel, but she’d tried to set him up on a couple dates in the past, none that worked out. He’s focused on work, most women didn’t appreciate not being number one in his life. It’s been a string of disappointments, to where he bluntly asked Rhea to stop playing cupid. 

“This better not be an attempt at matchmaking again-” She cut him off with a sigh,

“I’ve long accepted that the ball is in your court from now on. I really truly just wanted you to go to an artist I’d trust my life with. She’s a good one, professional, talented, she spent twenty years as an apprentice before taking on her own clients. To top it off, she’s loyal, fun, and could use more genuine friends other than me. Can you blame me for that?” Her tone of voice was honest, after how much time they’d spent together, he could easily tell when she was bullshitting. Damian nodded to her as a show of acceptance to what she was saying. Her attention locked on the drive back to her place, Buddy was gonna get some sparring practice in with the other man. 

His gaze trailed a spot in the distance, trying to keep that woman out of his thoughts… failing miserably. She had such a lovely face, and all the art on display was impressive to be sure. The name Minerva fit her perfectly, especially with how protective she was of the Australian wrestler. It was endearing how she was barely 5’3 and was ready to take on the world to keep her 5’7 well-muscled friend safe. He hadn’t noticed the small smile that spread across his features, but Ripley sure took note of it. Keeping her features stoic while internally she was so pleased with herself. 

She pulled into the driveway where her man was waiting, he waved as they got out of the car. Buddy smiled at them, 

“I’m guessing it went well? Minnie is great at what she does. Rhea doesn’t like to share her with people, so it’s a hell of a compliment she brought you.” She gave him a quick kiss before heading into the house calling back,

“Play nice boys don’t forget the Terror Twins have some matches coming up.”

Damian shook his head w a huff before following the ginger towards their personal gym. Somehow he still had a sneaking suspicion that Rhea was playing a long game now instead of all the quick fruitless dates in the past… The image of Minerva slid by again, and for once… he might be okay with that.

Tagged:

@superlove167 @midnightlycan @mooshroomii420 @hotwheels1108 @misslackey @gigisview @abadbitchblogs @sexyblacksimper @sweetmoonlove0214 @daithideolishmer118 @tomandbuckyfan1 @terrortwinunicorn @iy-16-18 @sluttysierraaa @jstarr86 @zombiedixon89 @horsekoala @fearlesschimera @eringobragh420 @elainneoneill570 @gretavanhockey @moonwolfdemonprincess21 @sad-dreamer93 @agustd202204 @nubian-queen22 @kaitlinlovetwister @bosslady3168 @gabberzzz1998 @mol2311

[astoldbylanii]

Ignorance

dealers!shuriri x black!reader

warnings: smut, cursing, reader has a kid

-------------- "Is everyone clear on instructions?" Your professor asked from the front of the classroom. There were whispers among the class but ultimately everyone answered yes. Prof. Diggs nodded, giving permission to start the project before he took a seat at his desk. He was your art teacher, as calm and chill as they come. He was one of your favorites considering he wasn't always jumping down his students throats.

As you finally started to get into the flow of your sketch, his phone rang. He picked it up, muttering a few words before he stood from his desk, clearing his throat.

"I have to run down to the front office real quick. Best behavior please, lord knows I don't need miss Mulligan asking about my teaching capabilities. Again." He said, throwing on his suits jacket and tightening his tie. "Until I come back, ask your neighbor for help and if they can't I'll answer your questions when I get back." He instructed, saluting goodbye before he left the room. 

Immediately, the room was filled with chatter. You sighed, throwing down your pencil, your thought process now thrown off.

"What's wrong?" Your friend, Eden asked from beside you. She was already well along with her drawing. It looked like it was going to be of her late brother.

"This finna be hard as hell. You know I don't mess with that hyperrealism shit." You said, rolling your eyes as you picked up your pencil, twirling it around your fingers.

"Well, just draw someone but like, abstract. We're in the second semester, by now Diggs knows your style." She suggested, starting to blend her own piece at some points. You shook your head at her idea.

"Nah, he specifically said he wants it to look like he can touch the person. I don't know, I think I might just settle for a nice D at this point." You shrugged, staring at the circle on your page. You took the paper off, crumbling it in your hands and replaced it with a fresh one. After that you didn't pay any more attention to it, pulling out your own sketchbook instead.

"Shii, I could settle for some good D too." Eden joked, smacking your hand down when you playfully shoved her, laughing too. "I'm not kidding!" She said, glaring at you with an offended look when you continued laughing. She rolled her eyes, going back to her drawing as you went back to your sketch.

Some minutes passed by and you two sat there in silence, surrounded by chatter. You were looking for inspiration in your old works while she was focusing on her new one. You were confused when out the corner of your eye you saw her put down her pencil too. Thinking she might've been done already, you looked over to see it unfinished. But maybe that was the look she was going for. You went to ask about it when she spoke up first.

"Girl, who is that fine ass specimen walking towards us." She asked, gawking over whoever it was. You were sure they couldn't have been that good looking that she had to stop drawing, but you stood corrected when your gaze met Riri's. She had been surveying the room for you, and once the two of you made eye contact she started making her way up the stairs to you. "Wait why she coming up here? And why y'all staring at each other like y'all know each other? Wait, bitch, you know her?"

"Shhh!" You hushed, staring at Riri in shock as start to get closer to where you were seated. Why in the hell why she in your class? Much less in your building? You quickly fixed your shocked face when she stood in front of you, her hands in the pockets of her plain grey nike sweatsuit as she stared down at you. "The fuck is you doing here?" You whispered, looking around for any watching eyes.

"Since when you think it's ok to curse at me?" She asked, cocking her head to the side. You stayed silent, leaning back in your seat as you mugged her instead of apologizing. She chuckled down at you, obviously a little surprised at your attitude but she didn't mind it, knowing it'd be fixed in no time. "You haven't been answering our texts, mama."

"Yeah, I know." You said, rolling your eyes and going back to your sketchbook. Duh, why tf she staring the obvious like you don't know what you've been doing. You knew exactly what you were doing. Being petty. But ain't no way you was gon watch them sit there and talk to that girl and not react. This was you reacting, and they caused it so they can fix it.

Now you were starting to tick her off. You could tell you were. The way she rolled her tongue against her cheek as she looked down at you. The way her hand clenched up inside of her pocket. The way she softly scoffed under breath when your attention went back to your book. You could tell. It was because you knew how to piss her off. No eye contact, attitude, basically just being disrespectful. She was big on respect.

A hand came between you and your book and before you could stop it, it was snatched from your grasp. Your gaze snapped to her as you stood, trying to reach over the desk to grab the book but to no avail. She kept it out of your reach, using her free hand to grab your own, keeping you in place just from that grip. She leaned her head over your shoulder so her mouth was right by your ear.

"I don't know what you're trying to pull, but you're lucky your in class right now. When this class is over you're coming to The Palace. By then I want what ever you got going on fixed." She leaned away from your ear so you were face to face, looking you in the eye. "Or, I will fix it for you. Ok?" She warned, waiting for an answer. You nodded, though you changed to a verbal yes quick after you saw the look on her face. She smirked, pecking your lips before she pulled away. She caught sight of Eden, who's jaw had dropped at the affectionate action. Riri waved, knowing who she was to you before she took her exit, taking the sketchbook with her.

You assumed she took that for assurance that you'd actually show up at The Palace. She knew you rarely went anywhere without it. 

Finally relaxing again with her gone, you slumped in your chair. You groaned, dragging a hand down your face as you thought about how the rest of your day was going to go. If God was on your side today, you'd still be able to crawl come tomorrow. But it was Friday. Meaning you didn't have class for the next couple of days meaning both Riri and Shuri were less likely to take pity on you. Damn you fucked up. Why couldn't Riri have came on a Teusday?

"Bitch, you know Riri? Wait never mind, you fuck Riri? I couldn't tell that was her at first but you're with Riri? Wait a minute don't she got a girlfriend? And you bottom too? I knew you was just shit talking all them times you-"

"Eden!" You interrupted her, not enjoying the rant that was soon to come. "Yes, I'm with Riri. Yes she has a girlfriend, I'm with her too. Also no one needs to know about the whole bottom shit, you know? We can just...keep it to ourselves." You admitted, looking around the room for anyone that might've been watching the whole interaction. Why did she have to pull that in front everyone? She could've pulled you outside, texted you. You know what, maybe she did text, you had been ignoring her to be fair.

"We gon circle back to the bottom thing but girl you're with two fuckin drug dealers?!" Eden whisper-shouted but still you shushed her, not exactly fond of the idea of them getting caught. "I am shushing! How did you even manage to- wait how the fuck did she get in here?" She asked, looking around like she felt unsafe now.

"Girl first of all calm down. Acting like someone coming to kidnap your ass. They don't do that type of shit anyway. And that front office call was more than likely her so she could make her way up here. I also heard there was a tour or something today? She proli pretended to be apart of it." You answered, still stressed about what you were going to do after this class. You hoped it felt as long as English usually did, the longer you have to form a plan the better.

"Don't she go to MIT? The hell is she doing on Harvard campus?" Eden asked, but more to herself. For the first time since Riri left, she turned to look at you, seeing the nervous look on your face. "Girl why you shaking in your boots for? You bout to get your doonies beat down goodt. By two people! I'd be clacking my heels."

"I'm not even sure that's what's gon happen for real. That's what's making me nervous." You replied, taking your nail into your mouth to bite. Your best friend shrugged, going back to her painting.

"Well either way if you're not here next week I'll tell your teachers you had some sort of accident. Maybe one about your legs not working." She said, giggling to herself. You looked at her with a fake annoyed face, holding in the smile that threatened to show itself.

"You think you funny, huh?" ---------------- Finally, your last class was over. Usually you'd be happy but unfortunately it did not go by as slow as you had hoped. You had no plan. You'd have to go to The Palace.

"I still can't believe you ain't tell me." Eden said, packing up her bag. You rolled your eyes at her dramatics, hearing her sniff like she was crying. You swung your own bag over your shoulder, waiting for her to be finished.

"Girl please. Like you be telling me every person that be dicking you down every two to five business days." You scoffed. Eden paused her actions, lifting her eyes to stare at me.

"You ain't een had to do that." She shook her head, finally fitting that fat ass computer into that small ass bag. She threw her bag on and we started to head to the door. As soon as we turned into the hallway we were face to face with Riri. She had been posted up on the wall checking her watch. Eden looked between the two of us, quickly dismissing herself while wishing me good luck. 

Ri watched her leave before turning back to me, pushing herself off the wall. She was in the same outfit from before, except now her gold chain was untucked, and you could see what shoes she was wearing. They were just some dunks, ones Shuri bought all three of y'all so we could be matching. Coincidently, you happened to be wearing yours too. Riri leaned in closer to me, You thought she was going to greet you with a kiss. At the last minute, she swerved her head, reaching out and pulling my book bag from off your shoulder.

Yeah. Deserved that one.

She pulled your bag over her own shoulder, reaching her hand out to grab yours and smiling when you took it.

"I see ya attitude fixed." She said, using my hand to pull me so I was walking in front of her, then dropping it. "For now anyways."

"How you even here? I'm sure you got classes or something." You asked, wrapping your arms around yourself when you made it outside. It had gotten colder since morning. You'd forgotten to check the weather again and were wearing a short sleeve shirt. It was a little big too, which made it easier for the win to blow through.

"I got my ways. You of all people should know that by now." She answered shortly, giving you just enough for it to pass as an answer. You felt a soft fabric touch your shoulders and looked behind you to see Riri now in a grey shirt, continuing to make sure her hoodie was covering your shoulders.

"Thank you." You smiled, sticking your arms through the sleeves of the sweater. You zipped up the hoodie, leaning into the girl as she wrapped her arm around your shoulder, now next to you. She leaned down to press a kiss to your temple.

"'Course, ma." She muttered, using her free hand to take her phone out. You sunk into her some more. As petty as you had been, you'd miss her. You'd miss them. Of course you did, but you still weren't happy about the girl. You knew, however, there was no competition. Riri and Shuri would never do that to you. It was just the mere fact that they had entertained her. That's the part that bothered you.

You went to turn into the parking lot, only to be pulled in another direction by Riri. You looked up at her confused, but followed her nonetheless. She led you to some field on campus where a group of white guys were hanging. Some throwing a football, others just sitting and talking. She went up to one of the ones that were sitting, snatching the phone out of his hand. Your eyes widened, stepping behind her a little as she dropped her arm from around you, using both hands to type on his phone.

"Yo! What the fuck?" He yelled, standing up so his height difference was apparent. Riri was unfazed, continuing to type something on his phone. You looked over her shoulder, only to see her stuck on his cashapp, he was signed out. Obviously she didn't know the boy's password.

"You owe me." She told him, muttering something else under her breath as she turned the phone to him. "5k."

"5- what?!" He gritted his teeth, glancing around to make sure no one heard what they were talking about.

"I supplied your entire party white boy. That's how much you and your frat bros snorted. Pay up." Riri demanded. One thing you were quick to learn about her, there were three things she didn't play about. One of those being her money. She was gonna get it one way or another and when the boy didn't move you had learned that today it was going to be another. 

You could see Riri getting even more irritated than she already was about the payment being late in the first place. You saw her survey the place one last time before lifting her shirt just little, flashing something. You couldn't see it from behind her but the look on the boy's face told you what it was.

"Ok, damn." The boy agreed, snatching the phone. Riri dropped the end of her shirt, watching as he typed in the information. Soon he turned around the screen to face the two of you, showing that it was sent.

"Good, next time you do a deal with me again, have your money with you. I'm not doing no more after pay with you." She said, not waiting for a reply before she grabbed your hand again and started walking away. 

She led you to a familiar foreign and flashy car, opening the door for you to get in and crawling in after you. You could see Okoye, their right hand women, in the driver's seat through the divider of the front and back of the car. You waved shyly and she smiled at you through the rear view mirror.

"I thought you wanted me to meet you at the club, not pick me up." You expressed with slight confusion in your voice. Riri finished typing some things on her phone, sliding it back into her pocket to give you her undivided attention.

"So now you wanna listen?" She questioned, doing the same tilt with her head that she always did when she was mad. So she was definitely still mad. Okoye voided her eyes of the situation after hearing Riri's words, sliding the divider closed. You looked down at your hands, picking at the fresh polish on your nails. Only looking up when you heard Riri snickering. "Clearly I had some business to handle, figured I'd might as well pick you up too. That way I knew you couldn't avoid us. Not that you could even if I didn't."

You rolled your eyes at her cocky behavior, pulling out your own phone from your pocket. You typed in some things, noticing Riri looking at your screen from her position. Dialing your sister's number, you put it up to your ear waiting for her to pick up. "Hey Bianca!" You greeted once it finally did.

"Hey y/n, what's up?"

"Do you have any plans for this weekend? I'm gonna be running a little late tomorrow night, but I don't want you to be staying up late if you do have something to do." You questioned, feeling slightly guilty to be asking this of her.

"No no, it's fine! He can stay longer, it's no problem." Kylie answered, you could practically hear the smile in her voice. Man she must love kids. Asante had been staying there for a week now. Bianca had practically begged for him to come over and spend some time with his cousins, of course you said yes. She didn't live far from you so it wasn't like he couldn't attend school, and you could seen him whenever you liked. He'd been staying there since Wednesday now.

"Ok, thank you so much! I'll send you guys more money for some food and stuff. Could you please put Asante on the phone?" You asked, deciding against ending this call just to call the 6 year old's iPad. The babysitter agreed, and soon you heard your son's voice.

"Hi mommy!" His preppy voice blared through the phone, making you slightly pull the phone away from your ear in surprise.

"Hey baby." You giggled out, putting the phone against your ear. "Mommy's gonna be a little late coming home tomorrow. Do you think you'll be ok? Bianca's gonna stay with you a little longer."

"Yes! I love Aunty Bey, she bought me a new toy car! Does this mean we can have pizza for dinner?"

"Yes, you can have pizza for dinner." You agreed, laughing at his celebrations over the phone. "Okay, when I take you home you can tell me all about school today. Call me if anything happens, okay? I love you."

"You can tell me about yours too! Love you mommy, bye bye."

"Bye, 'Sante." You sighed, hanging up the phone. You put your phone away, looking at Riri after feeling her eyes on you the whole time. "What?"

"Asante could always come to the house, if you want." She offered, not trying to pressure you. You shook your head, laughing at the suggestion.

"No, thank you. The boy hasn't even met you yet, love." You denied, rubbing your hand over her knee. Riri shrugged, throwing her arm to rest on the back of the seats.

"Who's fault is that?" She taunted, watching as you turned your head away from her. She used her hand to turn your head back to her, wanting you to see that she was serious. "Me and Shuri plan on making you a wife. We aren't going anywhere, y/n. We care about you, which means we care about Asante. But, he's your son, we're not going to pressure you into meeting him. Just know that we want to." She assured. You smiled, pulling her in for a hug which she graciously accepted, wrapping her arms around your waist and resting her head on your chest.

"Thank you."

It's not that you didn't want them to meet Asante, your feelings were growing stronger by the day. You didn't stop they'd ever stop growing, really. You were just worried. You didn't want your son hurt. Emotionally, you didn't want him to get attach only for them to not come home one day, a job gone wrong. Physically, they protected you already, and you knew they would protect him even more. But still, there was always room for human error, and you didn't know if that was a chance you were willing to take. 

You loved them, but you would always love your son more. Who would you be to purposely put him in harms way for your own gain and comfort? Sacrifice was something you were used to when it came to Asante. But isn't that what mothers do? Then again, maybe there was supposed to be a certain balance. One that you didn't have. --------------- The Palace. It was their club, also their headquarters. It was protected and secured by all women bodyguards, Okoye being one of them. It was also where you met them for the first time, but that's neither here nor there.

You, Okoye, and Riri made your way through the entrance, the metal detector going off as you walked through, but no one said anything. Once you were inside, Riri pressed a small kiss to your head, making you turn to look at her questioningly.

"Go find Shuri, baby. I got something to handle real quick but I'll meet with y'all as soon as I'm done." She stated, signaling Okoye to follow her. You pressed a short kiss to her lips, wishing her luck with whatever she had to do. Then, both her and Okoye left your side.

You never felt scared to be alone in their club. You knew for a fact more than half of the guards were watching your every move, knowing they'd probably suffer consequences if anything happened to you under the roof of The Palace. 

Anyway, back to the problem at hand.

You did not want to find Shuri. She was more than likely pissed. Just like you knew what made Riri mad, you knew what made Shuri mad. And one thing she hated was being ignored by anyone, and you were no exception.

There was also that fact that she was the harsher one out of the two. Usually, you could always pull one over with Riri. Talking back, rolling your eyes, smacking your lips, the whole nine yards. At least, for a while. After a certain amount of times she'd get mad too. But with Shuri, she'd be mad if she even heard you thinking about talking back.

You weren't scared of her by any means, you knew she wouldn't do anything to hurt you purposefully. Intimidated though? Oh yeah, 100 percent you were shitting your pants. 

But their was no doubt Shuri had been alerted of your arrival and was keeping and eye out for you. So either she knew where your were and was on her way, or she was already here.

You sighed, excepting your fate as you made your way over to the stairs. She usually stayed on the upper two levels as they were more secluded and had some VIP sections. You climbed all the way up to the third level, hoping for some time to prepare yourself before she caught you.

Your hope was crushed when a hand wrapped around your throat, your back being pressed up against the wall behind you harshly. You were going to let out a panicked scream when your eyes met her familiar chocolate ones, a cocky smirk that her and Riri shared spreading across her face.

"My y/n." She greeted with a light smile, letting you catch a glimpse of the gold grills she wore today. You reached up to grab the wrist of the hang currently around your throat. Shuri noticed, loosening her grip just a little with caution. "What a surprise it is to see you here after what I think was-" She pretended to count on her free hand. "Right. Three weeks."

"It was actually two and a half weeks. Unless you rounded-" Your sentence was cut off when she tightened her grip once again, a silent warning that she was not in the mood for your slick comments today.

"Still a smart aleck." She observed. Her eyes trailed down your figure to take in your outfit, Riri's hoodie that was now open had fallen to an off the shoulder look, showcasing the cropped short sleeve you had on. Other than that, you just had on some simple ripped jeans with writing on them. 

Her eyes returned to yours, a certain glint in her eye that made you nervous. Just like Riri had, she leaned in closer so that her lips were right next to your ear as she spoke, her tone sending shivers down your spine. "I want you to tell me why you think it is ok to ignore me. To ignore Ri."

Keeping your act up, your turned you head away so she wasn't right next to your ear. Shuri only chuckled at your defiance, taking the opportunity to mark up the now open side of your neck. The hand that was once around your throat moved down so it was on you hip, keeping you pinned against the wall as her lips trailed down, pressing light kisses to your neck that you knew would get harsher soon.

Shuri moved her head so she was in your line of sight again.

"Things haven't changed since you were gone. When I ask you something, you answer." She said, watching as you turned away from her again, crossing your arms. She took your chin in between her thumb and finger, forcing you to look at her. "What happened to my good girl, baby?" She asked, swiping her thumb over your bottom lip. For a second, you almost fell for it. But you snapped yourself out of it, ripping yourself from her grasp and quickly walking away from her before she could react.

You were confused when you didn't hear her footsteps following after you. She could easily catch up as you were still very in her line of sight. But soon your question was answered when Riri appeared out of nowhere, turning a corner and backing into the same position you were just in. Pressed against a wall.

"Such a fucking brat. Walking away when we're talking to you, talking back. What are we gonna do with you?" She asked rhetorically. She gave you a smile, letting her hand come up to pull at one of your hairs that had fallen out of the bun you made. Shuri came to stand next to her and you pressed yourself further into the wall, if that was even possible. Separately, you were willing to pull almost everything. But when the two were finally together, you knew better than to try anything.

Unfortunately, it was too late for anything else. You had to continue. Gots to see it through my boy.

You were gonna 'see it through' alright. ---------------- "Please, I came already." You whined, trying to push Shuri's head away as you came down from your high for the umpteenth time. Riri's hand grabbed yours, pulling them away while she kissed on your neck, trying to calm you down.

"Cum again." Shuri muttered, pressing a wet kiss to your overstimulated clit, chuckling when you jumped from how sensitive you were.

You three had been going at it for what felt like forever. After the whole confrontation, they drove you to their house, teasing you the whole way. Once you did get there, they spared no time getting you to the bed. Since then, it felt like you had done everything under the sun but stop.

Literally, everything. You'd lost count of how many times you'd came, but you knew for a fact it had to be in double digits. You could only imagine how you looked.

Hair frizzy, sweaty, tear stains running down your cheeks, cum around your lips that you were unable to wipe yourself. Riri and Shuri didn't bother to either, quite liking the look on you. You were exhausted, overstimulated, and clinging on to consciousness by a pinky toenail. But they never stopped. There hasn't been a break since you walked through the door. 

At first, you were conflicted. You couldn't tell if you even wanted them to stop. It hurt so bad that it started to feel good. The pain blended in with the pleasure and you couldn't help but ask for more. But when you felt another one of Shuri's digits dip in for another round you knew something had to give.

"Okayyy, I'm sorry. Please." You begged, seeing your vision get cloudy as more tears appeared. Riri's voice came from behind you, you could feel her warm breath on your neck though you could barely make out what she was saying.

"Sorry for what, mama?" She pressed. All that came from you were mumbles of an apology as you still tried to break your hands from her grasp. 

In the moment you weren't in a good position to realize it, but the fact that she could keep you pinned down with just her own strength was making you even more wet than you already were. Shuri realized though, smirking between your legs as she slowed down her pace.

Shuri used her free hand to push herself up from the bed, kissing up your body and over fresh marks until she met your tired eyes. "What are you sorry for?" She repeated, looking down at you with lidded eyes of her own. 

You began to reply but only a groan left you when you felt her purposely angle her fingers at your favorite spot. "Hm?" She mocked, still waiting for an answer.

"M'm sorry for- fuck, sorry for ignoring you." You apologized, your head falling back onto Riri's shoulder as your eyes rolled behind your lids, feeling Shuri speed up once again, targeting that same spot. "Shit, Shuri please."

"Please what, baby?" She teased, tilting her head with a mock of confusion. You whined again, frustrated with her taunting.  

She shared a look over your shoulder with Riri, who released your hands and started to pin down you hips instead. Your hands immediately flew out for something to ground you. The first things you could get your hands on being Shuri's wrist and Riri's hand.

"Do you want her stop or do you want more? You're confusing her baby." Riri added, watching closely at how your brows furrowed and your back arched when she applied the slightest amount of pressure to your abused clit, practically shoving you over the edge.

"Stop! I want her to stop." You mumbled, finally able to get your thoughts together enough to make a complete sentence. Having some pity, Shuri slowly dragged her fingers against your walls while she pulled out, curling them one last time just to see you squirm. 

Just as slow, she brought them to her lips. Feeling both your and Riri's eyes watching her carefully, she decided at the last second that she wanted you to take them instead. She tapped them on your close lips, watching as you opened them to take in her coated digits.

Taking the sight in, she hums, obviously please with your obedience (as it did take a long time to get back). That was all the acknowledgement she gave you before she and Riri made eye contact over your shoulder again, and Riri's hand began to circle your bud again. 

You whimpered, trying to back yourself into the girl to get away from her touch. They both ignored you in their own conversation about what to do with you, Riri keeping you in place while Shuri forced her fingers further down your throat, making you gag.

Suddenly, the feeling of Shuri was ripped from your mouth and replaced with Riri's tongue as they tried to distract you from the feeling of Shuri's slender fingers dipping back into your already sensitive hole. You immediately pulled away, already feeling yourself starting to ache.

"Shuriii." You dragged, watching as the girl lowered between your thighs again. She shushed you, placing a delicate kiss to your thigh, though dangerously close with your entrance.

"Just one more baby, I promise." She soothed, caressing the same thigh she had kissed with her free hand. "Can you do that for us, love?" She spoke softly, taking one of your hands in hers to kiss.

"You've been doing so good for us tonight, pretty girl. We just wanna make you feel good one last time, can you let us do that mama?" Riri coaxed from behind you, rubbing soothing circles on your stomach to calm you. Debating, you took Riri's hand in your other one, trying to relax yourself into her. "One more, we promise." She whispered, pressing a sweet kiss right under your ear.

"Okay." You agreed. Your words came out mumbled but they both understood you. Shuri smiled up at you, pressing another kiss to your thigh as a thanks before she joined her fingers that had never stopped moving.

The second her tongue makes contact with your clit your hands are fisting through her hair, pulling around the tight coils on her head.

There are a few more strokes of her tongue before she wraps her lips around your awaiting clit, your slick coating her tongue as she swirls it around your clit just before wrapping her lips around the bud.

Her fingers are buried deep inside of your cunt as she sucks your pulsing bundle of nerves into her mouth. There's a second where she sucks just hard enough to make your vision go white at the same time Riri decides to pinch and rub on the sensitive buds on your chest.

Feeling the coil in your stomach tighten, you let out a load moan when Shuri curls her fingers against your g spot one more time before you let go, clenching the sheets in your hand. Riri whispers sweet praises in your ear, rubbing soothing circles on your hips to calm you down while Shuri fingers you through your high, waiting for your legs to stop shaking before she pulls away, your essence coating both her fingers and lips.

She slipped the drenched fingers between her lips, licking your cum from between her fingers before leaning over your frame to trap Riri's lips in her own, who moaned at the familiar taste of you. Though you were drained, you still manage to keep your hooded eyes open long enough to watch them swapping your cum with each others tongues, eventually swallowing when they had enough.

"Are you ok baby?" Shuri checked, rubbing your side comfortingly. You nodded, sinking into Riri more as she rubbed your thighs. Shuri leaned down, pressing multiple kisses to your forehead, cheeks, and nose, making you laugh tiredly, pushing her away. She smiled, leaving you to go get some new sheets, clothes and something to clean you up.

"It wasn't too much, right?" Riri asked softly. Confused by the question, you craned your head to look up at her, not even wanting to attempt to move your bottom half. Riri had already been looking down at you. "I mean, you didn't pass out this time, but still, we didn't overdo it too much?"

"No, Ri," You answered, reaching up with one of your hands to smooth over her cheek. "It felt good, I promise. Even though there was one point where I was fighting for consciousness." You joked and she smiled, leaning down to press a kiss to the crown of your head. "To be fair though, it was supposed to be a punishment so I figured it wouldn't be all love making and soft caressing."

"Yeah, why were you ignoring us in the first place?" She questioned. You shrugged distractedly, running your thumb over her furrowed brow. "y/n, I'm serious." She said, taking your hand from her face and holding it in her's. You let out a dramatic groan. She was ruining the vibes.

"I got mad because y'all were talking to that bitch Ashley." You mumbled, playing with the hand that had took yours. Before she could even respond you continued on, defending your actions. "But I had a right to be mad, I mean y'all went into a whole ass private room with that chick. Without me!"

"Ok, first off, Okoye was in there so we couldn't have done anything, not like we would want to. We only talk to Ashley about business, that conversation wasn't any different. But, if it helps whenever we talk to her again, we'll make sure you're there too." She compromised and you agreed, thanking her. You two continued talking until Shuri returned with a wet cloth, some sheets, and new clothes.

And the night ended with a nice warm bath. Which you fell asleep in. ----------------

You groaned waking up to the sound of your ringtone. You stretched, feeling a certain weight on your chest. Looking down you saw Riri sleeping soundly with one hand up your shirt and on your boob, Shuri spooning her. You smiled at the sight, reaching over to your nightstand for your phone. You wondered how two supposedly high alert dealers hadn't woken up from the sound, but no matter.

"Bianca?" You mumbled, messing with the features on Riri's face. Two big and bag drug lords and yet they looked like puppies in their sleep.

"y/n, when are you coming to get Asante? No rush, because I'd keep him around forever if you'd let me, I just wanna have him packed up and ready to go." Your sister asked, you could hear your nieces and nephews running around in the background. You pulled the phone away from your ear, checking your phone and groaning once you saw how close it was to noon.

"I'll be there at like, one. I still have to shower and everything." You said, rubbing your hand down your face. You and Bianca chatted about some smaller things before she finally hung up, giving you time to get ready. You smiled at the two next to you, leaning down to press a kiss onto both of their lips, even though they weren't awake to respond to it.

You pulled Riri's strong grip off your titty. She was holding on it like a hungry newborn. You replaced yourself with the pillow behind you, slipping out of the bed, only for you to stumble into the nightstand when you did, startling both of them awake. 

The two sprung up from their place as if they weren't just knocked with drool in the corner of their mouths, searching the room frantically until their eyes settled on you, who was currently using the nightstand to stand. They turned to look at each other, holding in their laughs. You glared at them, trying to keep yourself upright so they took your next words serious.

"Both of y'all shut the fuck up and come help me to the bathroom."

"We ain't een say nothing." Riri protested, though she swung her legs to the side, getting up to come help you.

"You ain't need to, your face said enough." You said, holding your hand up for her to help you. Riri disregarded your hand, her small frame bending down to toss you over her shoulder. "Riri!"

"You told me to help you, now you mad I'm helping you. You just acting like this cause we fucked ya lace front off and now you walking like there's an earthquake." 

"Shut the hell up and take me to the damn bathroom, Riri!" You demanded, smacking her back and flipping off Shuri who watched on from her position in the bed, clearly amused. ----------------

BRING BACK SHURI AND RIRI X READER ALL 2024!! I'm jumping into the writing scene because i honestly miss the era where everything was about them, and i miss some of my fav writers😔✊🏾

anyways hope yall enjoyed

thank you guys for the inspiration, whether old fics or new @shinsousliya @inmyheadimobsessed @quintessencewrites @saintwrld @marsolgy @pinkwright @vixentheplanet

[letmesleep8]

the fucking punchline // elliexreader

CHAPTER 1: White Carnations

Ao3

content warnings/tags: drug usage (weed), implied daddy issues

notes: hello lesbians! this is my second ever fanfiction here on tumblr, quick reminder: i didn't drop the other one. this is kinda slowburn and also kinda daisy jones & the six inspired, so if you like that book you might like this too. i'll always link up the songs I used in the story at the end of the chapter. hope you enjoy. <3

taglist: @lorelaihehe @lonelyfooryouonly

•─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────••─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────••─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•

September 09th, 2023 

Time shakes, found you at the water 

At first you were a problem my father, now I love you like a father a brother

Earthquakes shake the dust behind you

This world at times will blind you

Still I know I’ll see you there

The calloused, ink stained hands scribbled on a sketchbook, next to a drawing of what seemed to be a wolf. On the same page, Ecology notes got lost between chord progressions and two-sentence long lyrics. Near the margin, a quick but precise drawing of Dina’s eyes. 

Ellie was sitting in the corner of her Organic Chemistry lecture at Jackson’s Community College, hiding her freckled body under a gray sweatshirt and her sleepy eyes behind overgrown face-framing bangs. As the professor finally called the class off, she got up from her seat, walking to her visibly well loved truck, its blue paint holding scratches and slight dents, clearly faded from the sun

I sat on my window as I watched her old truck drive by, as loud as always. I was waiting for my nails to dry, afraid that the maroon polish would stick to everything if I didn’t have the  patience to let it take its sweet time. She got off her truck and stepped on her cigarette before  going through the front door. 

I had met Jesse a few weeks earlier, it was karaoke night at the bar. I managed to get a few drinks from the old creeps there and was already feeling a bit too “happy” when I stepped onto the improvised stage we had set up and gave that bikers’ bar the best drunk performance of “Hopelessly Devoted to You” they had ever seen. 

I have always loved to sing. Writing, playing  the  guitar, putting up concerts for my family in my living room. Music is my soul. But I’ve come from a reality where art wasn’t an option, being an artist would not pay my rent, nor would it show to my  parents that I wasn’t a complete disaster. So I worked as a waitress and saved up  to  the last cent of any tips I would get, only spending enough to pay my parents my contribution to what they spent so I  could go to cosmetology school

After I finished my fifteen minutes of fame, I went back to the cold reality and started cleaning up some tables. That was when Jesse came up to me, drunk and full of compliments to give. He had a girl beside him, Dina. He started rambling about his band and how they’re so good that they even do weddings, and then he asked me if I had ever auditioned for a singing  gig  at all. I was full of confidence and whisky, so I gave him my number when he said they could  use another vocalist

The next morning I had basically forgotten about my new deal, and I figured he would have forgotten about it  too. But I was wrong. The boy did not forget about it, in fact, he kept calling me to schedule my “audition”. So I finally gave in. I grabbed my guitar case and started walking to the address he gave me. It was just down the street from my house, at  the Miller’s. I held the case on my shoulder and walked towards the open garage door. There were Dina, Jesse and the girl I had only seen from my window every now and then. 

– You actually came! – Jesse got up from his seat, walking his way to me. – Oh, you play the guitar  too? Damn, Williams, found someone else to do your work. – He joked and the girl gave him an annoyed look, sitting comfortably on the old chair inside the garage. I couldn’t help but observe how her thighs set apart from each other and her head was thrown back mindlessly. 

– So, are you gonna show me what you’re all about? You seem to have really impressed the other two. – She gestured for me to sit on a stool, her voice was, honestly, cold but not in an unfriendly way. She seemed nonchalant, but not distant. Her green eyes had the warmth her mouth seemed to lack and her face was strangely expressive, like someone who had spent their developing  years in front of the tv instead of talking to people, but it complemented her sharp voice just perfectly. 

– This is a song I wrote a few weeks ago. It’s not finished yet, but I think it’s fine. – I spoke as I tuned in the guitar while keeping my eyes mostly on the girl, who seemed to be paying close attention to me and, at the same time, seemed to disdain me. 

She analyzed my every move as I started singing. I could see some curiosity peeking through her eyes when I began performing the first verse. 

“She's asleep in the backseat

 Looking peaceful enough to me

 But she's wakin' up inside a dream

 Full of screeching tires and fire”

I played the chords and kept singing the words, trying to mask the knot on my throat. “Emily, I’m sorry, baby / You know how I get when I’m wrong” I tried to keep my voice from shaking;  not because of the lyrics, I haven’t talked to Emily since 8th grade and, honestly, I just think it’s a beautiful name. I wanted to cry because I felt anxious. Turns out it hurts more to overcome your fears when your blood is not 50% whisky.

It was as if I could listen to my  father screaming from a distance: “you are a waste of time!” Suddenly, it was like I could slowly feel my blood going through my veins all throughout my body, sliding like raindrops on a window. I was feeling overwhelmed, the song felt never ending and I was sure that I had gotten at least 30% of all the notes wrong. I didn’t realize how much I wanted this, how much I craved for a chance to showcase my songs, a chance to pretend that my dreams were possible. And in my head, it was all over, until I heard Ellie’s voice from across the room.

– Sounds good to me. – She shrugged her shoulders and raised her eyebrows. – If you two think she’s good then she’s good and she’s in. I’d be the odd one out anyway. Dina flashed me a warm smile and gave me a side hug.

– Welcome to the band! – She nudges my arm.

– Rehearsal every Sunday, Wednesday and Thursday from 3 to 5 pm. – Jesse smiled from the worn out couch he was lazily lying on. 

We decided to spend the rest of the afternoon getting to know each other better. Dina talked about some songs she would like to perform at their next weddings, Jesse laid back on the couch and played with the drum sticks. The band had some work of their own, but not many since Ellie was basically the only one who was more interested in writing than playing covers. 

– Hey – I was sitting on the floor and scrolling on my phone, Ellie scooted closer to me, brushing her jeans against my knee. – D’you write that song by yourself? The “Emily” one and shit? 

– It’s called “Emily, I’m sorry”. – I chuckled, nodding. – Yeah, I did. I actually write a lot of songs. Why?

She reached out for her sketchbook inside of her forest green backpack, I couldn’t help but notice how it matches her eyes almost too perfectly. She flipped the yellow pages  until she found a small verse of lyrics to show me. I wasn’t really used to showing unfinished lyrics to people but I grabbed the small handbook in my pocket.

Do you understand the things that you’ve been seeing?

Do you  understand the things that you’ve been dreaming?

Come a little closer, then you’ll see

– I woke up in the middle of the night last week and wrote this down on my phone. Do you think it could perhaps work with the melody you wrote? 

– Well, actually… – She scratched the back of her head and looked up. 

– You haven’t thought of a melody yet, have you? – I smirked.

– No, no, of course I have, I just… – She stuttered. – It just needs a bit of… refining.

– Refining, huh? – I chuckled.

Jesse told Dina he was bored and, with a smirk, they both decided it was time to go watch a movie at his house. I was ready  to take my things and leave too, but Ellie stopped me.

– Hey, wait! – She called for me. – Do you want to work on the song? I mean, I ain’t got no professional studio but we could make it work with what I  have. The others don’t really like to write and shit, I was thinking maybe we could give that one a try.

– Oh, sure. – I smiled softly. 

She closed the garage door, giving us some more privacy. Ellie reached for the laptop on a tools table, it was plugged into a reasonably nice mic, she must have saved up for ages to buy it. She also got an electric guitar out of the case and started to tune it. With my acoustic guitar, I started humming a few different generic melodies that came to my head, until Ellie liked one and decided to try to follow it with her guitar. We stayed there for a while.

– Do you like it that way? I don’t think it’s working out well enough. 

I scratched the back of my head, my eyes narrowed. I rubbed my hands over my face. 

– I don’t know, I'm just having trouble locking in, I guess. We could give up for now, if  you want. 

– I know something that could help, if you’re up for it. – She smirked slightly. Maybe I was overthinking it, but I could swear I saw her eyes wander to my mouth. – I  mean, if you’re even a smoker, of course. 

– Oh. – I fell into reality and felt stupid. – Oh yeah, sure, I- I mean, we could try. Cool.

She got up and gestured to me to follow, I put the guitar on the case and took it with us. We exited the garage through a small door that led to the kitchen. Her house was messy enough to be acknowledged as a college student’s but it was furnished like some kind of family had once lived in that space

She led me up the stairs, into her room. I shyly sat on the edge of her bed and she got some weed and some silk out of her bedside table. She started rolling it up and I watched as she licked it together in record time, I would be lying to say I wasn’t impressed. A simple lighter came out of her pocket and she took a long hit before passing it over to me. I brought both the blunt and her gaze up to my lips, taking a drag not as experienced as hers. It wasn’t  my  first time smoking but I was scared to bite more than I could chew, for some reason.

– So, are you from around town? Never seen you around. –  She was trying to break the ice. I got up from her bed and walked towards her window, she was quick to follow after me. 

– Right there. – I pointed to the other side of the street, about three or four houses over. She seemed surprised. 

– Really?! – She spoke, surprised. –  I thought that was where the annoying lady from the Neighborhood Association lived. The one that’s always telling people to speed down and shit.

– Yeah, that’s my mom. – I laughed as I watched her cheeks  grow a bright red, her eyes trying to look anywhere but mine. – It’s okay, she really is annoying. She does that to me too and I’m her own daughter. – I sat on her windowsill, taking another drag of the joint. She joined me, sitting by my side. 

– I mean, she never complained about the noise during the band’s practice sessions. Gotta give her that, though. 

I laughed and she took the weed back. 

– She can be a bit mean but she is a music lover, after all. Maybe you’ve found her soft spot with that one. 

– Aw shit, gonna have to give her tickets to our next underground-bar concert. 

We both laughed at the idea of my mom at one of our shows. 

– Gonna make sure to tell her to look out for it. – That was when I realized I hadn’t asked a really important question. – What’s the band’s name anyway?

– White Carnations. – Ellie took another hit, blowing the smoke outside and passing it to me.

– White Carnations… – I breathed out the smoke. – I like it. Any particular reason for the name? 

– I don’t know. – She shrugged her shoulders. – Sounded good, I guess. – She was clearly lying, but I didn’t want to push her too hard so I changed the subject. 

I went back to playing some chords on the guitar and we were lost in a comfortable silence, until I had an idea. I started humming something along the lines of: “Ten thousand people stand alone now / And in the evening the sun sank, tomorrow it will rise / Time flies by, they all sing along”, repeating the last line over and over until Ellie started singing it too. At some point she simply changed it to “time flies, bye-bye” and I absolutely loved it. It sounded like something you’d point the mic at people so they could scream at a concert

Only then I realized my bare feet were in her lap, like we had been the closest of friends for ages and not distant neighbors that only now realized that each other existed. Her tattooed hand rested on top of my ankles and her hazy eyes and smile seemed as familiar as my mirror. That evening we wrote the entirety of ‘Come A Little Closer” while sitting on her bedroom window, then ate a bunch of chocolate covered ice cream bites.

[sweetbillwriting]

In The Dead of Night

THE LAST CHAPTER

& EPILOGUE

Characters: AU Eric played by Bill Skarsgård from The Crow (2024)

Setting: This story is set in A WHOLE OTHER WORLD than the movie. Shelley isn't a part of this story. Eric will be different from the movie.

Warnings: 18+, NSFW, heavy themes.

Notes: Thanks to @b-afterhours for helping me with the language. Picture credit to @hiddlelecki

It was obvious Robin had done something to destroy for Eric, and the only thing I could see it could be, was the relationship with Lotti. The relationship with Simone wasn't good enough to feel a victory over by destroying, and it didn't have anything to do with their relationship either. The thing the two of them had fought about their whole lives was the love from their parents, so it must be that Robin had taken away from Eric.

Eric didn't see Lotti; Lotti even believed he was dead, but that seemed to be his own decision—not anything Robin had forced him to, but Eric grieved his relationship with Lotti, even so loudly he cried over her like a little child. Once again I thought back on Eric's hurt look I had inflicted, and I swallowed dryly. I owed it to him to get to the bottom of this, and if Robin didn't want to talk to me, I must find someone else, someone who had been by Lotti's side more than her sons had in recent years.

×××

I had visited Lotti several times at the home and started to get used to the procedure, but that day I wasn't there to visit her but to talk with someone else; Fiona, her contact nurse, who had the closest relationship to her of all the nurses. I didn't know if she would give me anything because of the patient's confidentiality agreement, but I needed to at least give it a try for both Lotti and Eric. They deserved having a functional relationship, and something obviously stood in the way for that to happen—something Robin had created.

At the reception stood a young nurse I recognized, and with a small smile I asked for Fiona.

“She's with a resident right now, but if you want to, you can wait for her here.”

“Oh, yeah, I’ll do that then. Would you let her know I'm here? I just have some questions.” The nurse nodded with a bright smile before turning her gaze back to a laptop. I looked around while waiting and felt my nerves going up by just standing there. Fiona might refuse to talk to me. After ten minutes, I saw her come out from the door behind the reception, and when she saw me, she smiled.

“Here to see Lotti?”

I took a deep inhale and approached the reception again.

“No, I want to talk to you actually.”

Fiona looked at me surprised but then nodded a little.

“Is it a sensitive topic?”

I nodded, and it made Fiona nod too, and then she gestured to me to follow her.

She took me to a little room with a view over the yard and with four armchairs. It felt like the room where they told family members someone had died, and it made me a bit uncomfortable, but I still sat down in one of the armchairs while Fiona fixed coffee from the machine in the corner.

She sat down with a loud exhalation and corrected her ponytail.

“So what can I help you with?”

I looked down at my phone and looked through my phone’s gallery. It was full of pictures of Eric. It wasn't weird; he was so photogenic it would be a crime not to photograph him. I found a picture, modest but sweet, to show Fiona. He sat on the couch, occupied with his sketchbook, brows furrowing deeply. He wore an acid patterned t-shirt; in many of my pictures, he was shirtless. I gave her my phone, and she looked at the picture of him and nodded a little.

“The son she lost?” Fiona said carefully. My gaze lowered into my lap, avoiding the question, but she probably believed it was a yes.

“Did he ever visit her?

Fiona laid my phone on the table and gave me an empathetic look.

“I can't talk about that.”

“But I don't mean to know anything about Lotti, I just want to know if he was here. Fiona looked between my phone on the table and me. My eyes were glassy, and I tried to make my hands stop shaking by dragging them over my jeans-clad thighs. Fiona licked her lips and then nodded.

“Once… Not long before his accident happened. He… He didn't look like he felt so good…” She said everything low, like she was afraid someone would hear her. “Then it was so... It was really awful—his last meeting with his mom, and she didn't recognize him. Robin told me she more or less had screamed at him, and,” Fiona pointed to my phone. “He ran away. I didn't get a chance to talk to him and explain it was a bad day.”

I swallowed hard and dragged my hands over my cheeks. I couldn't even imagine what happened in Eric's head when his mom didn't recognize him, but I could also guess what Lotti saw instead of her youngest son. I had seen the pictures of the unhealthy Eric, thin and pale, hollow-eyed, and then on top of that, all his tattoos. The meeting must have been heartbreaking for Eric. His loving mom screamed in terror at seeing him, the person he loved the most judging him. I laid my hands over my face when I once again could hear my own words to him. Fucking junkie. I was the worst human ever.

“I can't tell you more; I've already said too much…” said Fiona, and I nodded.

“Thank you, thank you…” I said when I had removed my hands from my face. Fiona gave me a small

smile before we said goodbye.

×××

I sat on a bench in one of my town's parks even if the wind blew cold. I looked at Eric's number on my phone. I didn't want anything else than to call him and beg him to forgive me, but I had already done that once, and it felt like it was harder to defend my right to do it.

I wanted to be able to say something real to him—not just whine and beg again, but it also felt like I had something to say.

I tried to paint up a timeline in my head, and for everything I put on it, a more and more clearer picture grew in front of me.

Eric Senior; Robin and Eric's father had died, and it had made Eric lose his footing again. Once again, he started to use drugs. Lotti got in an accident, causing her stroke, and when she met Eric, she couldn't recognize him. Robin got him into rehab, but they also said to Lotti that Eric was dead.

Looking at the timeline, it felt obvious what was missing. Robin had never told Eric it was just a bad day, that Lotti did remember him but just had a confused day. He had let Eric believe his mom saw him just as a druggy guy. Robin had taken his mom away from Eric when he had the chance and left Eric alone, without a family.

I let my tears run down my cheeks slowly while I looked down at the ground. My heart was bleeding for Eric, but I also felt so fooled by Robin. He had been my best friend for two years, and never had I thought he was capable of such an evil crime. I couldn't see another reason to do it than just punish him for being the favorite son, but with this, it became even more understandable why Eric was the favorite. He had a heart of gold, while Robin obviously could let his heart become stone.

Eric needed to know this as fast as possible; he had already missed so much time with Lotti.

×××

It wouldn't be easy to get Eric to listen to me; I knew that, but that didn't make it any less frustrating when he didn't pick up when I called him. I called him every day that week while working in the salon. Robin was sick, but I was quite certain the truth was he didn't want to meet me.

When the weekend came, I had decided to go to Eric, but to my surprise my sister showed up with Odin. I didn't think Robin would keep our schedule, but clearly he would. Desiree looked at me irritated when she just dropped Odin's leash so he could give his wild hello to me.

“Are you fighting again? Come on, you too shouldn't have a dog together!”

I sighed a little while patting Odin's dark fur. It looked like Eric's hair, but Eric's hair was much softer. “He refused to see you.”

“Yeah, because he lied to his mom about Eric being dead,” I said with a pointed look. Desiree looked at me with big eyes; once again, the gossip devil burned in her eyes.

“Seriously??”

“Yeah, because he's jealous. If I could, I would crush his nose!”

“That's insane! But are you and Eric a couple now?”

I gave her a pained look.

“It's so fucking messy, but I will fix it. I know it sounds silly, but I can't live without him. I can't breathe right without him.”

Desiree smiled a little at me and nodded. She probably started to understand Dante wasn't the real deal, Eric was.

“What is your plan?”

“I must go to him and tell him about Robin so he can fix his relationship with his mom. It's a super long story... But his story.”

I meant it wasn't my story to tell, and Desiree nodded, but she looked disappointed. She wanted more gossip.

“But now you have Odin, will you wait-”

I stop her with a head shake.

“No, I'll bring him. Eric loves him. He loves Eric more than anyone else.”

She giggled. “More than you?”

“Totally. I'm the third wheel with them.”

Desiree giggled, then gave me a hug.

“Fix this then. I want to know how dad reacts when you have a boyfriend with Lovecraft on his back.”

I smiled warmly at her but also nervously, not because of my dad's love for gothic literature but because I couldn't mess this up now when Desiree rooted for me.

×××

“Please open Eric! Please!” I shouted outside of his door. I didn't know if he chose to not open it or if he actually wasn't home. “Eric!”

Odin barked twice, but not even that made Eric open the door. I walked to my car again and tried to find a solution. I looked at Odin in the seat next to me, and he looked at me with one eyebrow lifted and eyes full of worry that I wouldn't fix this.

“We will fix something for us to eat and take a long walk and maybe a nap because we will visit someone late tonight…” I said to him and patted his head and ear.

I bought us each a hamburger, not the best dog food, but for one night it was okay, then I tried to make the time pass by walking around; it was boring as hell, but at 00.30 am we could finally go to Jackie’s. I didn't care that it was desperate; I was desperate.

Jackie opened with a smirk. He was obviously high and didn't even give us a confused look. I let Odin's leash go; that way Jackie or anyone else couldn’t easily kick us out. Odin ran into the living room so fast he slipped on the floor. That kind of joy could only mean Eric was there. My heart speeded up at once, and for a few seconds I wanted to turn around and flee.

“Eric is here if you’re searching for him, but I don't think he wants to see you,” said Jackie teasingly. Normally I would answer such teasing with attitude, but now I just swallowed hard and looked down at the floor. Jackie turned to the living room but stopped in the doorway, probably because of my big dog. I looked at myself with the help of the front camera on my phone. I had fixed my makeup and hair earlier in the car, but now, with the nerves, it felt like it all had fallen. After that, I finally brought myself together and walked into the living room. The scene there looked like it usually did. Five guys listening to music, drinking cheap beer, and smoking herbal joints. The air was heavy with the spicy smoke and the mist hung in the air for a long time after someone had exhaled.

Eric had moved down to the floor to cuddle with Odin, and he lay on his back while the dog licked his face almost sensually. I wanted to lay down with them but knew that would be too much, so I sat down on the armrest of the couch. His friends looked at me with big eyes, but none of them would get themselves involved in our mess. Eric sat up and pushed Odin away when he started to get way too excited, and with a snap of his fingers, he got him to lay down on the floor next to him. Odin looked at me pleased, and I envied him for how easy it was for him. When I looked at Eric, he looked away. I had planned to be cool in front of his friends but forgot all about that when he finally looked at me. The sob and tears came from nowhere, and even if I didn't see anyone's expression, I knew everyone in the room was uncomfortable.

Eric didn't let me sit and cry in front of his friends for a long time, he was too kind to do that and took my hand so we could get away.

He guided me out to the hallway and succeeded in having Odin as a tail.

“We’ll take a walk, okay?” He said lowly to me, and then he put on his khaki-colored vans and his long black coat. I put on my outerwear with some struggle, and when I was finished, Eric stood with Odin, leashed by the door.

We walked in silence, the only thing we could hear was my nose that couldn't stop running and Odin's claws landing on the concrete. I looked carefully at Eric, who looked sad and disappointed. I hated the look, and especially that it was me who had caused it.

“I want to say sorry three hundred times for what I said to you—that I accused you of taking those pills, but it isn't why I am here, or not just that reason.”

Eric gave me a quick look but then looked away, uninterested.

“It's about Lotti. Why did you stop seeing her?”

Eric scoffed after a while and shook his head.

“None of your business.”

His answer had some attitude, and even if it was just a little, it surprised me.

“Is it because she forgot you?”

Eric scoffed again and looked down at the ground. He really tried to have a cold attitude, but he was too bad at concealing his real emotions.

“She hasn't forgotten you-”

“Fuck Della! Please, why do you do this?” He said, irritated, and stopped to look straight at me. I stopped just in front of him and looked up at his face.

“She hasn't forgotten you; she misses you all the time-”

“I've met her! She threw a fucking glass at me! She has forgotten me, okay?!” His voice was loud now, but it didn't feel scary because it was such understandable frustration and pain.

“It was just then. It was just that moment. She forgets me too; the next time she's her normal self again. Robin has lied to you. She talks about you all the time and is broken without you!”

My voice was also loud now, to make him listen and shut him up. It worked because Eric stood and looked at me with big, glassy eyes they gave more light than the street light next to us.

“...what?” He said after a while, with a small voice.

“It's a lie, Eric. She hasn't forgotten you. She believes you're dead because that's what Robin said to her, and you believe she has lost the memory of you, but she hasn't! She thinks about you daily!”

I looked at him straight in the eyes, even if they shifted round and round. He dragged his hands over his face and dropped Odin's leash, but he stood by his side anyway. Big tattooed hands covered his face while sob after sob left his mouth. I wanted to hug him but didn't dare, but when he started to cry uncontrollably and was forced to sit down on the ground, I sat down in front of him.

“You can meet her, baby... You can be with your mom again…” I said calmly, and it made him lean his forehead against my shoulder. I took that as an invitation to hug him, and it caused him to unleash his feelings again. He cried loudly in a way I never heard a grown man cry before, and that made it even more heartbreaking. He wasn't a man at that moment, he was Lotti's little boy.

I hugged him hard with Odin sitting close to us, and Eric hugged me around my waist like he was much smaller than he was. I wiped his tears over and over, hushing him, but it took so long for him to calm down. He was shaking when he looked at me with red eyes and nose.

“I want to go home,” he said, wiping his eyes and nose with the backside of his hand. I nodded and dried away a tear on his jaw.

“Let's get home.”

×××

He calmed down quite quickly at home and let me help him take off his clothes down to his boxers and then bundle him up in bed. If I hadn't known better, I would have thought he had a serious cold; he both acted and looked like a sick person, but he was just upset. I sat down on the edge of the bed and forced him to drink a glass of water. He looked at me with his red-rimmed eyes. I was prepared for him to turn his back against me, but instead he pulled my top and pants like he wanted me to take them off.

“Do you want me to lay here with you?” I asked softly, and I got a nod back.

I took off my clothes close to the bed—so close he could drag his hand over my leg while I did it. It was obvious my skin was calming to him, and he tried to feel as much as he could. When I just wore my bra and panties, he looked up at me, then stretched out his arm and pulled in my panties. He did it again when I looked at him pointedly, so I pulled both them and my bra off. He lifted the cover so I could crawl down next to him, but he pulled me up over him. I sat up, straddling his hips to be able to look into his eyes.

“I love you, and we should talk and all that, but... I need you now, please. I need you now.” He said with a low voice while pulling down his boxers. I nodded and leaned down to kiss his lips. After that, I didn't drag it out; I let him slip into me, and I rode him until he couldn't handle anymore. 2 minutes and 36 seconds.

×××

I asked so many times if he had forgiven me, and he said yes, and that he loved me, every time. He could see that both of our emotions had been wild in every way lately, but I still continued to say I was sorry for a long time.

I had hoped he would want to see Lotti at once, but something held him back, so it wasn't until two weeks later he dared to come to my town to visit her. I would talk to her together with Fiona the day before so she wouldn't get a heart attack from the news. Robin hadn't tried anything to stop us from seeing her, and maybe he had given up. I tried to tell myself he wanted to do the right thing, but to be honest, I didn't know. It felt like I didn't know him.

Fiona and I looked at Lotti as she fixed coffee for all three of us and searched for some biscuits, but they seemed to have disappeared, in some sort of way. She was a bit confused that day but still in a good mood, and me and Fiona waited patiently on her to not destroy the good mood. She needed to be calm to be able to hear that her youngest son was still alive.

“I don't need any biscuits; I think just coffee sounds great!” Said Fiona optimistically to not make Lotti sad.

“Yeah, same,” said I, so Lotti would sit down with us. She gave us a bit of a bothered look but accepted what we had said and sat down by the little table with us and took a sip of her coffee. I looked at Fiona to have permission to talk, and she gave me a nod. She had never heard anything like Eric's story before, so neither she knew the best way to do it.

“Lotti, I am here to tell you something, something great, really, really great but strange,” I began and smiled nervously. She looked at me with a bright smile, like she thought I would tell her I had a bottle of wine in my handbag.

“Eric, Eric is alive and wants to see you.”

Lotti stared at me, then turned towards Fiona with an upset face; she probably wondered if I was lying.

“It's true, Lotti,” said Fiona, who had talked with Eric over a video call.

I could see how Lotti's face changed in slow motion from anger and confusion to laughing in disbelief.

“What are you saying? Are you trying to give a sick lady a heart attack?” She said with a laugh while wiping away tears with a plaid handkerchief. I took her other hand in mine and smiled at her.

“Eric is alive, Lotti.”

“But Robin..?” The emotions swam in her eyes, and I could also see disappointment, like she knew Robin had lied. I just nodded a little; she got to interpret that however she wanted, but she didn't seem to have time to because she laughed and cried in a beautiful mix of emotion.

“But where is he then??”

“He's at my place. We thought you maybe needed some time-”

“Time?! You say my son is alive, and you think I need time to calm down?? I need to see him! I'm his mother! I should see him now!”

Now Lotti sounded angry, and Fiona patted her shoulder a little.

“Delilah, maybe you can tell him to come, while Lotti, you can rest a bit on the bed?”

“Rest?! I want to see my son!”

“Lotti,” said Fiona, giving her a strict look. “This is a big thing, so you should be rested when Eric comes here, right? So he can see you at your best.”

Lotti looked irritated and wiped away some more angry tears, but then listened to Fiona and went to bed.

Seeing Eric in the reception of Lotti's home was surreal even for me, and it seemed so even for Fiona. She looked at him up and down like she really was seeing a ghost, but she also smiled a little embarrassed when he took off his long coat and showed off muscular tattooed arms in a black t-shirt that also hinted about the rest of his fit body. I smiled big with every positive feeling in my body but also to calm Eric down, who looked so worried.

“Sometimes you're the only thing she talks about... She has been angry at me now because she can't wait,” said Fiona with a giggle. It felt like she acted differently in front of Eric, and to make things a little more clear, I took Eric's hand in mine. He smiled nervously at Fiona and then at me but didn't say anything. I knew talking to new people wasn't his thing and especially not when he was nervous.

“I’ll go in and see if she's ready,” said Fiona, and Eric gave her a little smile.

When we were alone, he leaned down to kiss my lips, then rested his forehead against mine. I laid my hands on his cheeks and breathed deeply together with him.

“I'm so fucking nervous... It feels like I will throw up…”

“It's Lotti. Your mom, no one else, you will feel better at once when you have seen her.”

He nodded and moved away from me so he could smile at me. I smiled back brightly, high on love, and fixed his hair and played a little with his dagger earring.

“You're so handsome.”

He shrugged his shoulders but kissed me with a smile. I let our tongues say hello a couple of times before I giggled into his mouth.

“I love you.”

“I love you too. Most in the entire world.” He whispered and kissed me again.

I left them alone to have their meeting to themselves. Just like I most often wanted Eric to myself, I knew Lotti felt the same. Eric was everything, after all.

×××

Epilogue

Mine and Eric's lives changed drastically after he and Lotti had a relationship again. He wanted to be close to her as much as he could, so after a couple of months, he moved into my apartment. Robin fled from us to another town but still visited his mother. Odin became mine and Eric's dog. It wasn't anything we discussed; it just happened.

My mom succeeded in finding a job for Eric. He was skeptical at first when he heard it was at a daycare and couldn't understand how my mom could feel that was a good idea, but after just a few months, he went from being an extra staff member to getting himself established employment. The whole thing was so sweet, and sometimes I just went by the daycare to see him play in the sand with the kids or have three of them climb his long limbs.

Life was good for thirteen months, without really any big problems, but then Eric's beloved mother had another stroke and left us without a warning. It led to Eric getting depressed again, but with a stronger, better safety net, he didn't fall down the hole with drugs, but he still ended up sleeping for weeks and weeks while I tried to encourage him to do something instead, but he didn't listen. He just wanted to sleep.

It was a sunny March day, and he finally wanted to leave the apartment. He had lost a lot of his muscles and was a skinnier version of himself. He had moved to the couch from the bed a couple of weeks before but now felt so good he even smiled when we spoke.

“Do you want company?” I asked while he put on his running gear. He shook his head with a smile.

“I just want to clear out my head; I can take Odin, though.”

He gave me a peck on the lips when he had tied his shoes, and I gave him several more after that. He smiled at me and then buried his nose in my neck.

“I can make tartar tonight.”

“Really?” I said excitedly and lifted his head so I could look at his smiling face.

“Yeah, with your help and a better alcoholic-free wine than the last time.”

He didn't even drink anymore, and I glowed with pride when he said it. He had made so much progress. But life has a tendency to break when it is finally good. I wasn't even worried when Eric left our home with Odin. I had been that in the beginning of our relationship, but now I felt sure he wouldn't do anything crass; the only thing I didn't think about was that there were also things like bad luck.

The first thing I noticed was that he was out running for a longer time than usual, but I thought he probably just needed some more time in the fresh air. When he had been out two and a half hours, I started to think about calling him, but it was then an unknown number called me. I thought about not answering, but something made me do it anyway. I regretted at once doing it because the thing they said was nothing I wanted to hear. I knew something had happened as soon as they said they were calling from the hospital and wondered about my relationship with Eric.

“I'm his fiancee; has something happened?” I said worriedly and held on to a chair in front of me. I rarely called myself his fiancee because it sounded a bit silly to me, but I was, he had proposed to me in the October sun, at a farmer's market. It was spontaneous, like he often was, but straight from the heart. He didn't have a ring, so we bought one together instead. I didn't care that he couldn't afford one by himself; that wasn't important.

“We want you to come down here; it's good if you bring a friend with you,” said the nurse.

“What happened??” I asked, upset because that sentence made it seem like something was really, really wrong.

“Eric has been in an accident, but it's best if you come down here instead.”

I started to cry on the phone because if it was good, or at least if there was hope, they would have told me.

I brought Desiree with me, who came and got me in her car. I just cried and cried in panic while she tried to say it was probably not as bad as I thought, but it felt like not even she believed it. At the hospital, they took me to a similar room I had spoken with Fiona in. Desiree hugged my hand in hers because now she couldn't pretend it wasn’t worse than it was.

“Eric came in with a gunshot wound in his chest an hour ago. He had stepped in and tried to stop a fight between some teenage boys without knowing one of them was armed… We did everything we could to stop the bleeding, but... I'm sorry, but he didn't survive.”

..

.

…

How do you react when the love of your life gets taken away from you so fast? How do you react when they tell you how unfair life is?

Eric had come jogging with Odin in one of the rougher parts of town. He didn't think much about it because he had always been in those sorts of areas and people had respect for him. He was tall and built and tattooed in a way that made some believe he was in a gang.

The teenagers were just fifteen, and in his eyes it looked like kids having a fist fight. Other people let them fight; they either didn't care or didn't have the courage to do something, not even when one of the boys lay on the ground, getting kick after kick towards his head and neck. Eric acted on impulse. Fear was nothing that held him back, and if he thought something was wrong, he would jump in, so he did. People around saw how calm he was, how he acted like a safe grown up and got the kids to move away, everyone except one who acted just as impulsive as Eric.

It was his older brother's gun. He had brought it to be cool, but he fired it when he felt powerless, shooting Eric in the chest once and Odin in the neck twice. People around just looked at the mess for several minutes while Eric disappeared slowly from the world. Odin had left it behind at once. My fiance lay several minutes without receiving help until a young couple ran up to them, even if the boy still held the weapon pointed towards Eric. The boy was in shock, seeing the grown man on the ground fighting for his life. Another man succeeded in taking the gun, and others around called 911, but their help was too little, too late.

Eric died in the ambulance. He never even saw the harsh light of the emergency room.

How do you react when a kind soul as Eric dies while he tries to do good? How do you react when someone who has fought his whole life dies in such an awful way?

They showed me his body. They had tried to make the room look nice with dimmed light and him lying on a covered observation table, but it couldn't be nice because then they showed me Eric's lifeless face, pale and relaxed. His face had changed because of the relaxed muscles. He looked much softer but still so regal with his high cheekbones.

How do you react to seeing the man you love not breathing? How do you react when you realize that everything the people have said is true?

Eric didn't exist anymore. The light had left his eyes, his voice just living inside of me. The magic was gone forever, and I was left behind. My whole little unit disappeared on the same day. My fiance and our dog. My whole life. I didn't have a life anymore.

×××

I didn't cry after leaving the hospital. A numbness took over—a feeling of resignation. Crying was for people who were cleansing, that tried to move on, I wouldn't move on. Tears were a relief, making tension disappear. I didn't need that. I didn't have any tensions, I wasn't scared, and I wasn't vindictive because I didn't have a future. I was just as dead as Eric.

I could feel everyone around me staring. I just sat on the couch, looking straight forward. Even Robin stretched a hand out but I didn't give him any response. My family thought about calling the psychiatric hospital but let it be, they thought I would come out of the daze I was in. They were wrong, so wrong. It wasn't even a daze; it was my reality. They believed I was stuck in grief, but I had left all earthly feelings behind. They lay forgotten on the hospital floor.

If there is nothing left for you at the party, you should leave it; you will have it better at home. I needed home again—Eric's warm embrace.

If my family knew what I was thinking, they would have taken me to a hospital, but it wouldn't really matter. It was too late. I would have done it anyway.

They had taken me to my parents house so I could live there. They thought I just needed love and comfort, but I couldn't even understand what they tried to do because I wasn't there; I just searched for an exit. They didn't believe I would go out in the dead of night in my trance-like state. I already had found my exit. I didn't have time to spill; I needed to go to Eric.

The exit was at the central station, the trains came all hours of the day, even in the dead of the night. It was easy. My party was over, and I needed to come home to Eric. It was easy.

.

..

…

I recognized the place at once. I had been there many times—oh, so many times. I was at my old street again, by the playground. It wasn't as dark as it had been the last time I was there; all the streetlights were on, and the sky shifted in a warm peach color. The sun was on its way up. I looked around, seeing if there was someone there; it was, I heard a loud bark. I recognized that bark so well, and it made me shiver in comfort. I laughed when Odin came running, and I sat down on the ground to let him give me a proper hello. While he licked my neck, I heard footsteps in the gravel. I wouldn't even need to look up to know who it was, but why wouldn't I want to do that? I stood up and looked at my tall fiance standing there, looking like he did in the prime of his life. His cheeks were a bit rosy from the coldness in the park, but still he just wore a black t-shirt with his khaki cargo pants.

“Hey,” he said with a warm smile, and I threw myself around his neck at once, without even thinking. His warm embrace caught me. I was home again. He laughed a little and then kissed me. I couldn't stop, and when we had started, we let it become a make-out session. I giggled into the kisses, and I could feel him smile.

“Did you get to decide on a meeting place again? Fuck, I thought it was my turn now!”

I laughed and dragged my fingers through the hair in his neck.

“So you remember this place?”

“Yeah, from when I was in the coma. I didn't remember the girl's face though, but it was you… the whole time.” He hugged my waist while looking me deep my eyes.

“I never dared to tell you about my dreams; I would have sounded like a stalker.”

“More than you already did, you mean?” He teased, and I hit him playfully on the arm, but then we laughed together. He gave me a soft kiss but then looked at me seriously.

“You shouldn't have taken your life, babe. You had so much to live for.”

He looked sad, but I wasn't really. I felt bad for my family, but I wasn't sad; I was with Eric.

“I think it was meant to be. Here we are, the three of us again-”

“Four.”

“Hm?”

He pointed to a light pole, and I looked up at it where Crow sat, looking down at us.

“He has guided me back two times; I know he will guide me away today. To my parents.”

I looked at him seriously.

“And I will follow you wherever you go.”

Eric looked at me examining with big green eyes. The mesmerizing eyes. He nodded and looked up at Crow.

“I love you most in the entire world, you know," I said with a giggle and took his hand in mine. He smiled at me and kissed my hand.

“And I love you most in the entire world and wherever we will go!” He said it playfully. I giggled, because I wasn't afraid. Eric looked at Odin, then at Crow. The bird made a caw and lifted his wings. I knew that was the signal, and when Crow lifted from the light pole, all three of us followed him towards the sun.

×

[lazycats-stuff]

PLEASEEEE DO A PART TWO TO THE ORPHAN READER MAYBE THEY GET COMFY WITH THE FAM AND THERES TIMES WHERE THEY SHOW IT?? and their reactions too? And at the end they accidentally says they're the best robin and the bat bros + bruce tease them!! if u can do this tysm!! (Sorry 4 caps i just loved that story!)

I was planning a part 2, no worries. All right, time to get to writing. Famous last word of the author who will procrastinate... Oops. Also, people who didn't read the first part, they can read it here: PART 1

Summary: (Y/N) is slowly getting more comfortable with his new family. The others are happy.

Warnings: fluff, (Y/N) thinking about his new life, teasing.

Quick note, this GIF is too adorable to not put here...

It has been a month since (Y/N) came to live with the Waynes. It was a difficult adjustment for (Y/N). After spending years on the Gotham streets, it wasn't easy to adjust to a warm room, a comfortable bed or 3 regular meals a day.

He also didn't like that he had to go to school. He preferred to learn on his own, it was much more better. But Bruce left him no choice. Bruce used his suit as leverage, using the threat of taking it.

(Y/N) disliked him even more due to the threat.

(Y/N) sighed as he walked down the school corridors, adjusting the straps of his bag. He was really going to escape one day. He thought about escaping often, but Bruce made sure that the house was secure like Pentagon. No out.

He was walking to his biology class, just ready to end the day. And he was hoping that he would avoid Damian, who disliked him. Even after a month of living with them, Damian still didn't tolerate him and would be set off by anything that (Y/N) did.

(Y/N) could only hope that he didn't have biology with Damian. He would rather shoot himself then sharing this class. He was avoiding Damian in school like a plague.

For a moment he thought about the other members of the family. Tim was the only one that (Y/N) could come to talk to. If one had a question, they would go ask another one. But he was still iffy around Tim, not knowing if he can trust him just yet.

Dick? Well, (Y/N) found him annoying with how much he was trying to welcome him into the family and into the home. But at least Dick was trying.

Jason was not welcoming towards (Y/N), but didn't fight with him like Damian. He just stayed out of (Y/N)'s way.

And Bruce? Well, he tried his best to get closer to (Y/N), but (Y/N) refused to open up to him. He can't expect (Y/N) to open up when Bruce adopted him by force.

Out of the corner of his eye he could see Damian, but he ignored him, turning his head completely.

" (Y/N) can you come and help me? " Tim asked him, popping his head into his room. (Y/N) lifted his head from his sketch book, sketching a new version of his bites.

" With what? " (Y/N) asked from the bed.

" It's a case, I'm just stumped. " Tim explained, scratching the back of his neck, clearly not wanting to admit the defeat.

" Sure, why not. " (Y/N) said, putting the sketchbook down and standing from the bed. He followed Tim to the cave. It seems like Tim was tired from the case itself.

" What is the case about? " (Y/N) asked.

" It's a murder case, my guess Professor Pyg, but I can't prove it. It's just... This case is so annoying. " Tim said, entering the cave.

(Y/N) didn't like the cave very much. It brought the memory of being brought here and (Y/N) didn't want to remember the night that changed his life. For the better or for worse? He still didn't know.

Tim pulled two chairs and (Y/N) sat down next to him, looking up at the big screen of the computer. Tim pulled up everything he had.

" So what is bothering you about this? " (Y/N) asked.

" Well, Professor Pyg was in Arkham, but he escaped, but there was a string of murders before hand. It seems like he was in Arkham and killing in the city at the same time. " Tim explained.

" Okay, well, it seems like he has a helper. Did you look into who spends the most time with him in Arkham? " (Y/N) asked Tim, now realizing that the others were in the cave too.

Shit.

" I didn't, but I will look into it. Thanks. Oh wait, I figured out the problem with the bites you said you had. " Tim said, giving him a few pieces of paper.

" You did? Thanks. " (Y/N) thanked Tim, moving to walk back upstairs, passing right past the others without a word. Bruce watched him walk off. He had a plan to get closer to (Y/N).

" I think that (Y/N) might be right about this. " Tim said, biting his nail.

" Good. " Bruce said, moving closer to the screen.

" Did you talk to (Y/N) about the internship at Wayne Enterprises? " Tim asked Bruce, looking at him.

" I will talk to him tonight after dinner before we go to patrol tonight. "

Tim nodded, turning his head back to look at the screen.

And after dinner, after (Y/N) went upstairs to his room, Bruce went after him, knocking on the door. He opened the door after her heard a faint come in.

Bruce entered the room, closing the door behind himself. (Y/N) was sitting at his desk, books open all over the desk.

" Are you busy? " Bruce asked, trying to ease the tension.

" At the moment no. " (Y/N) said dryly, turning in his chair to face Bruce. Bruce noticed how tense (Y/N) was and he hoped that this idea would work. He wanted (Y/N) to be comfortable with him and he knew that it would take time.

" So, I have an idea and you can say yes or no to it. " Bruce started, sitting down at (Y/N)'s bed. " I know you love to work on your suit, but I feel like there is more to your intelligence, so I talked to Lucius Fox, one of my trusted friends. He is the one who is responsible for making our suits. " Bruce stopped for a moment, watching (Y/N)'s reaction. He is interested, good.

" I talked to him about you helping him out as an intern. And you will be paid for your work. " Bruce said, making (Y/N) stand up from the chair in excitement.

" Really?! " (Y/N) asked, just shaking with excitement.

" Yes. I thought about you going everyday after school, but for a few hours. I can't forget about your school. " Bruce said and (Y/N) just flew into his arms into a hug.

When (Y/N) stopped hugging Bruce, already composed. He always dreamt of working in such a lab.

" And the money would be mine? " (Y/N) asked, liking the idea of earning his own money.

" Yes, you would have your own account and that is just yours. " Bruce said, happy to see that (Y/N) was happy.

" Thank you Bruce. " (Y/N) said, moving to sit back at the chair.

" No need to thank me. I saw how you don't really like being in school and the fact that you don't go out on patrol anymore, I thought that it would be nice to let you get out sometime. " Bruce said, suppressing a smile.

Everyone in the house could see the change in (Y/N)'s demeanor. He was happier since he started his internship and more so, he got more comfortable with Bruce. And Lucius was an amazing teacher and a mentor. And Bruce was definitely happier knowing that (Y/N) was more comfortable with him.

While (Y/N) was more comfortable with Bruce and Tim, the other three weren't so lucky. They didn't want to look like they didn't want (Y/N) here, but still, there was still some resentment towards him for taking their missions.

Jason came home from patrol, stressed out from the criminals and the lack of leads for a case. He had a plan. Take a shower and go on the roof to smoke.

Important note, be alone.

Jason took a quick shower then took his pack of cigarettes. He opened the window and climbed onto the roof. Jason shared a wall with (Y/N)'s room so he was and wasn't shocked when he saw (Y/N) sitting on the roof.

Jason noticed how tense he got when he saw him and simply put his cigarette in his mouth to raise his hands, to show that there is nothing to be tense about.

" Don't worry, I just came to smoke here. I had a rough night. " Jason said, taking a lighter and lighting up his cigarette. He took a long drag before letting the smoke out.

" What is bothering you? " He asked, letting the smoke out.

" It's nothing. " (Y/N) said, waving Jason off.

" Are you sure? I know we aren't close, but you can tell me. I won't tell Bruce. " Jason said, shocking himself with his statement. Since when did he care?

" Promise me that you won't tell Bruce? " (Y/N) asked.

" Promise. " Jason said. " You smoke? "

" No, I don't. " (Y/N) said, taking a deep breath.

" I just miss going out on patrol and I just miss my old life. " (Y/N) admitted to Jason, who nodded.

" I mean, it's nice to have 3 meals a day and a home, but all I knew all my life are the streets of Gotham. It's difficult to just switch your mindset. "

Jason took a drag, before letting his smoke out. " You know, I had the same problem when I first came here. I didn't really live on the streets, but I was close to. Bruce saved me and it was difficult for me to adjust too. " Jason admitted to (Y/N).

(Y/N) just raised his brow, maybe shocked to hear Jason's confession. But it felt nice knowing that he wasn't the only one who has felt the way he has. After going back into his room, Jason smiled at himself. (Y/N) got more comfortable with him...

Alfred asked Dick to pick up (Y/N) from his internship, since he couldn't make it. Dick didn't mind picking up his younger brother, in fact it meant that they could spend more time together. Usually Bruce would drop him off at home when he was done with work, but he had more work today.

Dick parked his car just when (Y/N) came out of the building. He waived him over and (Y/N) sped up to the car. He sat in the front, putting his bag down onto the car floor and putting his seatbelt on.

" How was your day? " Dick asked, driving to a cafe that he knew (Y/N) would love.

" It was fine. " (Y/N) said.

" What did you work on today? "

" Just some minor improvements for the suits and something for the company, just to keep up the façade. " (Y/N) said vaguely.

" That's nice. "

" Where are we going? " (Y/N) asked, noticing that they weren't going to the manor.

" You and I are going to hang out today. " Dick said, with a far too much of a cheerful voice than (Y/N) would have liked.

" Great. " (Y/N) said dryly, clearly not happy with the idea.

" Don't be so negative Jinx. We are going to go to a cafe to get some drinks. "

(Y/N) didn't know why they would do that, but he has no choice. he doesn't want to walk back home.

" Don't be so negative about it. You will like it. " Dick said, finding a spot. He turned off the car and both of them stepped out. Dick led them into the quiet cafe and they both order coffees. They sat down, waiting for their drinks.

" I heard a rumor that you miss going on patrol. " Dick said, taking a sip of his coffee.

(Y/N) remembered the talk with Jason. Did he spill? " Who told you that? " (Y/N) asked, tilting his head.

" Nobody, I'm just messing with you. I can see it in your eyes. " Dick admitted, seeing the relief in his eyes. Jason definitely told Dick, but threatened his if he told anything to (Y/N) about his involement.

" I do miss it... It was way more free than now. "

" What if I tell you that Bruce wants you to go? " Dick said, bringing his mug to his lips.

" What? " (Y/N) asked, now completely shocked. What is Dick talking about?

" He told me that he is sure that you will like to be back on patrol. He saw how you miss it and since you have been here long enough for Bruce to trust you, then he said you are allowed to go. " Dick said, reaching for his pocket. There was the USB he handed out to (Y/N).

" I know you were working on a case when we... Took you in. So, I took it upon myself to investigate it. Here is everything I have collected. " Dick said, nodding to (Y/N) who was hesitant to take it.

" I know you are still hesitant, but I just want you too feel comfortable with me. " Dick said, watching (Y/N) sip his coffee.

" Well, it's not easy to get comfortable with the people that forced this on you. " (Y/N) said, tapping his fingers against the wooden table.

" I know, but it's better than you living on the streets. " Dick said, fixing his jacket.

" You are right about that, but I had fun on the streets. There wasn't a set of rules... "

" But there was a struggle. " Dick said, saving themselves an argument.

" Yeah, but still. " (Y/N) said, shrugging his shoulders.

And that same night, Jinx was officially back on the Gotham scene. It was obvious to all of them that patrol was something to bring out the old (Y/N) and not the new withdrawn (Y/N).

Bruce had to say, (Y/N) listened to them and let them know where he was and he listened to the orders and plans. He was paired with Damian. On tonight's agenda was destroying Penguin's weapons cache.

" Alright everyone, lets go. Watch out for the henchmen. " Batman said through the comms.

Everyone let out noises of agreement and on they went. Robin and Jinx moved swiftly and quietly, taking everyone out quietly. They didn't talk, they just moved around like shadows.

After a while, they met in the center of the building, looking at the weapons piled up here. There was enough to start a civil war in the city and probably the tristate area.

" Okay, even I don't need this much weapons. " Jason said, looking at the caches, whistling afterwards.

" Lets just destroy it and go home. " Jinx said, looking into his belt for explosives.

" Hang on, if we can put them into those vaults and in the process destroy the money..." Dick started, pointing at the vaults with his baton.

" That's not a bad idea. " Batman said, ready to push, but the doors closed and locked.

It was Penguin sending his goons in to kill them. All of them jumped into fight mode, each of them holding their own. During the fight, Jinx saw a goon pulling out a gun. It was pointed and Damian and Jinx didn't think before jumping in front of it, protecting Damian from the shot.

Damian was shocked to find that (Y/N) was shot because he was protecting him. None the less, they finished fighting and went straight to the cave. Bruce drove like a maniac, every single second precious to them when it came to being shot. They had notified Alfred to get the medical wing ready.

After coming to the cave and Alfred taking over the medical for (Y/N), everyone was silent. Damian didn't know what to say. It was weird and incomprehensible to him why would (Y/N) do that for him. They changed into their pajamas, just waiting for Alfred to come out with good news.

After what seemed like an eternity, Alfred came out, giving them those good news.

" He is going to be fine gentlemen. I will spend the night here just in case. You can go up and sleep it off. "

That same day, more precisely morning, they all came into the medical wing of the cave, waiting for (Y/N) to wake up. They were all anxious, watching like hawks.

After a while, (Y/N)'s eyes opened and everyone was silent. " Look, it's the best Robin. " (Y/N) giggled, pointing at Damian. Jason had to step out to let out a laugh. Bruce looked up to at the ceiling, wondering why did he adopt him.

Dick coughed, covering the snort that came out. (Y/N) is going to get teased relentlessly for the next couple of months.

Tim was shocked that it wasn't him. He felt slightly betrayed.

And Damian was outright shocked, which doesn't happen often. Holy shit. He was going to use this piece of information at every opportunity possible.

(Y/N) giggled and got quiet again. (Y/N) was okay and he was going to fit in with them.

[valentinedaughtler]

Haven’t I Given Enough?

Kaz Brekker x GN!Inventor!Reader

TW: use of Y/N, mild, mild angst, slight ooc Kaz(?) (I think that’s it, let me know if I missed anything please.)

Synopsis: You’ve known Kaz for years, inventing gadgets to assist in heists and being his right hand ‘man’. One night you ask him if you can join a heist, but it doesn’t go as planned….

REQUESTS: OPEN✅

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My eyes flitted between the arriving guests in the bar. The Crow Club was packed tonight, and pigeons strolled in with restless naivety. I sat in the corner of the bustling room, sighing with exhaustion. I had just spent seventeen hours imitating mechanical watches in order to create a ‘fake’ for Kaz do swap with a real one. ‘Just something I need for a heist,’ was all he had said.

It would be worth it to know Kaz was proud of me in the end. Though, it was a long shot to think he would even do much as acknowledge anything I did.

I pondered whether I should slip through the crowd to find Jesper, but I couldn’t spot him. Instead, I pushed my way out of the suffocating bar out into the damp streets of Ketterdam. The cool air calmed my mind as I crossed toward the Slat. The cold made my cheeks rosy.

With the flick of a wrist, I flipped a switch blended into the old building’s exterior wall. It was hidden to an unsuspecting pedestrian yet, but it set off a system of pullies I had integrated into the inner walls a long time ago. A soft shlink was followed by the outward jutting of brick.

The side of the building became a rock-wall of sorts, since I could not climb up every surface like Inej. I began to grip the bricks, digging my nails into the gritty platforms.

Kaz was not always a fan of my inventions. A few had blown up in his face- literally- but it seemed he kept me around due to my many successes. I could fix any machine made by man. I didn’t have to know what it was, I could just take it apart in my mind, then do so in reality.

This was one of my inventions, a brick wall that was easy to climb, but could be hidden. Inej loved it- Kaz felt it was a waste of time.

He said there were stairs for a reason.

I shimmied the window of Kaz’s office open, the latch flipping and the glass sliding. I hopped off of the ledge and into the office, making sure to reset my brick contraption. I turned around and cleared my throat, but Kaz did not glance up at me. I rolled my eyes as he squinted at the blueprints that lay on his makeshift desk.

“Good evening, Brekker,” I greeted with a jokingly enticing tone. His eye twitched and he proceeded to turn his attention to me.

“Hello, Y/N,” his gravely voiced rasped in response. I smiled slightly, regretting so, and dig into my left pants pocket. I pulled out a shiny, gold watch with engraved initials. Whose they were was unknown to me, but if I asked, Kaz would most likely just shut me down. I had to respect his odd secrecy after all he had done for me. Out of all the years I’d known him, it has always been as if he kept me at an arm’s length. He was careful to never be vulnerable, as if that was the same as his skin touching mine.

I gestured for him to catch the watch when I tossed it, but he glared. I let out an exasperated sigh.

“You’re such a buzzkill,” I teased while handing the fake to him.

“You’re… difficult,” he retorted, but there was no malice behind his words- surprisingly. I huffed and plopped onto the blanket sprawled out on the windowsill. My eyes followed Kaz’s movements as he tentaviety inspected the watch. After a few minutes he placed it onto his desk and resumed his work. I waited patiently for any sign of recognition, but it never came.

“You’re welcome,” I mumbled while stretching out my legs. I opened up my leather sketchbook to doodle a new invention design. That or I’d just draw Kaz. But I was too annoyed with him to do so.

The dark haired boy sighed as he looked over at me. “You did good. It looks identical.”

I didn’t say anything in response, but I smiled slightly, my face heating up. It was embarrassing how easily I was flattered by Kaz, who could barely do the bare minimum.

“What ere you using it for— the watch, I mean,” I asked with growing curiosity. Kaz halted his work for a moment, most likely deciding if he felt like sharing or not.

“A local banker,-“

“The more-of-a-wanker-than-a-banker one?” I cut off his response, immediately feeling embarrassed. Kaz looked at me with mild confusion. “Inside joke with Jesper,” I elaborated.

He hummed in response, then continued, “He’s more of a swanker. For the past few months he has been flaunting his wealth a little too much. Especially his watch. It’s his most prized possession. I plan to take it from his vault; a simple swap.”

“What would you do without me?” I asked with a sly smirk. Kaz huffed, perhaps laughed.

“I’d have less of your inventions explode on me.”

“It was one time, Kaz,” I said with exasperation. My eye glittered as I met his gaze. I open my mouth to speak, but immediately close it again, pressing my lips together firmly.

“Kaz?”

“Y/N,”

“I want to go on a mission with you and the crows,” I blurted out. Kaz froze, only for a fraction of a moment, but Kaz Brekker froze. He nodded towards my left arm, where a tattoo of a crow craning over a guatlet was etched into my skin.

“You are a crow,” he finally rasped, dodging my question until I glared daggers into his skin. “And I have everyone we need for the mission-“

“Wylan is sick. You need someone who can easily disable complex machinery- the alarms, the traps-“

“I said no,” Kaz’s voice raised, sounding threatening.

“Why not?”

“Y/N,” his voice sounded as if he meant, don’t push it. But I did. I always did, and Kaz always kept me by his side anyways.

“I don’t understand- ever since I got hurt on that one heist you haven’t let me participate-“

“Exactly! You got hurt,” he said. His jaw clenched and his eyes avoided mine. I watched his Adam’s apple bob as he gulped.

“Dregs get hurt all the time- saints, some of the crows do too-“

“This is different,”

“How?”

“You’re an investment,” he stated blankly, “and I protect my investments.” I felt heat flush my face, my fists balling up and my shoulders tensing.

“That’s rich, Kaz, real rich,” I spat. Embarrassment pooled in my stomach and my eyes. “But that’s all you want, right? Kruge? Money? Power?” He didn’t say anything as I slitted my eyes and scrunched my nose. “Saints forbid the people who help you get to that point.”

Before Kaz could respond, if he even chose to, I got up and walked across his office, my shoes clacking against the hard, wooden floors. The old floorboards moaned and groaned at the pressure I subjected them to.

“Y/N-,” Kaz tried to get up, but his bad leg involuntarily spasmed at his abrupt movement.

The door slammed behind me. I knew it wasn’t a big deal, it felt like the last thing to topple a delicate card tower. Each card was a jab or a deny Kaz made regarding our… relationship, if you could call it that. He and I had been friends long before the other crows came along, yet I felt I’d come to know him the least. I sighed.

I turned back around on my heel, opening the splintered office door. On the other side was Kaz, reaching for the handling on the opposing side.

“You’re not an investment,”

I kept any snarky comments bottled up inside, along with my tears. I could tell what he was convey was eating away at him, so I let him speak.

“If I lost you, I’d have to burn Ketterdam down, and then I’d have no kingdom to rule,” his words soared through the air between us and to my heart.

“I just keep feeling like I’ve given enough, Kaz. I know I deserve to go on heists. If you see my as an equal, you have to treat me like one.” I met his deep, coffee-brown eyes.

He nodded. One of his gloved hands hesitantly, begrudgingly, came up to touch my face. He cupped my cheek and I leaned into the cold, leather touch. I knew this was the best answer he could give me at the moment. It was a more meaningful gesture than anything he could’ve said. He’d let me help on the heist, and for once in a very long time, it felt like he had let his high walls crumble a bit.

I knew I’d given enough.

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Word Count: 1460

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Part 2????

-Valentine