#when she had the same conversation with Michael and gave her a through the looking glass book instead

[klausysworld]

Nik Michaels

Klaus had been going back to the same little art shop for weeks now. His studio at home was stacked with paints but it didn't stop him going back at least once every few days.

The little bell chimed gently above the door as he stepped inside the cozy room. The scent of lavender floated through the room whilst the soft hum of music drifted past the selection of canvases and shelves.

His eyes immediately searched for her familiar face.

Y/N was handing a customer their receipt along with a beautifully decorated paper bag which contained whatever supplies they had bought. He moved out the buyers way when they headed for the door and took their place at the till.

"Hi Nik." She greeted, a smile on her face which he couldn't help but mirror.

"Busy day, sweetheart?" He asked as that damned bell rang again and a fellow artist made their way inside.

"Always busy in New Orleans!" She chirped, her eyes bright and keen as she waved at the other woman in the shop.

Klaus hummed faintly and tapped his fingers gently against the wood that stood between them. He waited relatively patiently for her to serve the woman before waiting for her attention again.

She turned back to him and gave him a cute little head tilt. "You can't possibly need more paint?" She laughed, the sound ran right along his spine and he felt his hairs stand on edge.

"Well paints aren't all you sell now are they, love?" He grinned and she shook her head.

"Pick whatever you like." She told him, gesturing to the contents of her shop making him push that little pout to his face.

"You aren't going to come out from behind there and help?" He questioned, tone playful. Her cheeks went an adorable shade of pink as she pushed the pointless gate that separated her and her customers to come over to his side.

Klaus smiled as she came over to him. He loved when he got to be so close. She was the kindest, most gentle hearted person he had ever met.

His eyes took in the soft, beautiful features of her face before trailing downwards. Her dress was a soft shade of blue in colour, one of his favourites. The bodice was fitted perfectly, the built in cups showing the perfect shape of each of her breasts before the aline skirt hid the rest of her curves. He glanced to the comfortable but never less than pretty flats that adorned her feet. Klaus loved that she never wore heels, kept her small and dainty.

Klaus was certain that even without his superhuman strength, it would be easy to pick her up, spin her around, lift her up, catch her, anything.

His eyes snapped back up to hers, taking in the way her irises swirled with colour. Suddenly the realisation dawned on him that her soft lips were moving, he tuned back into the conversation.

"Canvases? Or do you want something else like uh the dream catchers and things? I know you don't usually but there are some more...masculine ones you could have..." She offered, eyes darting round the room as she spoke about different things and thought of anything else she could offer him. "I have candles and incense? Uh...evil eyes? Some things to bring luck and stuff? You don't seem like a crystal guy..." She murmured, thinking aloud and he couldn't help but feel a little amused.

"Not particularly, but for you sweetheart I could be." He smirked and Y/N looked down with a smile.

"What did you come in for Nik?" She asked and he clicked his tongue.

"Well.." He muttered, his expression never dulling. "I came in hoping for a date...perhaps you have a spare evening this week?" Klaus proposed, his eyes wondering over her again without meaning to.

Y/N bit the inside of her cheek, it wasn't the first time he had asked for a date; in fact he asked pretty much every single time he walked in there.

"Nik-" She sighed softly and he huffed.

"Oh come on sweetheart! Just one dinner, one glass of wine...one kiss...one touch...one-"

"Nik!" She scolded and he groaned unseriously.

"Y/N..." He borderline whined and she giggled. "I'll buy every last brush in this store. Every last tube of paint, every sheet of paper, everything for one evening where you're mine and mine alone."

"If you buy everything it'll take me forever to restock." She shrugged and he swallowed down the little growl that his wolf produced.

"Then I'll spend all week helping you stack the shelves," He grinned and looked down at her, wanting nothing more than to grab her perfect little face and kiss that teasing smile right off her face. "I'll have to lift you up to help you reach those high shelves. Do tell me love, how did you get those up their?" Klaus asked as he eyed the beginners painting gift sets that rest far to high up for her adorable height to reach.

"Hm? Oh. My ex put them up there...they're just display ones, thats why people ask for them and I get some from out back." She explained and his light mood lowered.

"When was this ex last around?" He questioned, desperately trying to sound casual however it was anything but.

"Oh he doesn't come around here anymore." She told him simply but there was an underlying tone to her words.

"Did you end on good terms?" Klaus asked, curiosity obvious but also his concern.

"Uh...sure...you know, all breakups are messy." She mumbled, her attention on a little feather that dangled from a dream catcher she was fiddling with.

Klaus nodded silently, understanding that the topic needed to be dropped for the time being. He cleared his throat and picked the decoration from her hand.

"I like this one." He decided, whether it was because it was pretty or because she had touched it was unclear.

"You sure?" She checked, that smile on her face always contagious and it made him nod.

"Definitely."

"I'll bag it up for you" She told him, taking the dream catcher back and going back behind to the till. Klaus leaned against it, gazing at her as she picked a bag out for him. Each paper back was hand painted by her to be unique, there must have been hundreds ready and he couldn't help but wonder how much time she spent each week preparing them all. His eyes watched her hands wrap the item in a couple layers of tissue paper before gently placing it in the bag and placing it up in front of him. "Cash or card?" she asked, eyes back on his.

"Cash" He answered automatically, pulling out a fifty and she shook her head.

"Nik, no. No more big tips." She told him, borderline whined and he grinned.

"Oh love, you deserve the tips. Think of it as me paying for the bag." He offered a solution and she huffed.

"The dream catcher is $5. The paper bag is not worth $45." She argued and he shook his head.

"The bags are as beautiful as the item. And the dream catcher is worth more than $5" He countered and she sighed softly to herself as she reluctantly took the money from his fingers. "So...about that date" He brought up and she shot him a playful glare.

"I'm...very busy." She muttered and he hummed, clearly unconvinced.

"Perhaps you could schedule me in for next week then? Morning, afternoon, evening, middle of the night, it doesn't matter." He listed, becoming all the more eager, bordering on desperate.

"I'm just not ready for a relationship at the moment Nik and I don't think I could go on one date with you without wanting another." She sighed and he softened.

"Alright" He whispered with a nod. "I understand that..." He paused for a moment as he took the bag. "I can wait." He shrugged and her brows furrowed slightly.

"Wait?" She questioned and he nodded.

"I'm a patient man, I can wait for you to be ready." He told her and he meant it.

Y/N was human. She didn't know who or what he was. He wasn't Klaus Mikaelson the crazed hybrid, disgrace to the wolves and tyrant to the vampires, father to the tribrid and son to the original witch. He was just Nik, an artist. So simple yet it allowed him to be so much more. A man instead of a monster.

It was nice having Y/N's attention, she didn't have any twisted intentions. No ulterior motives, she wasn't evil or calculated, she was just kind and genuine.

"I'll still be coming here every week for paints and what not, then when you're ready I'll take you somewhere fancy." He winked and she laughed softly.

"I'll see you in a few days." She told him as he stepped back toward the door.

"I'll see you soon sweetheart."

And obviously he did. He came back all the time. Often giving her little paintings he had made with things from her shop. They could be seen hanging up in the back. Y/N lived in the apartment above her shop and almost never left the building, she had no need to unless she needed to go shopping. She went out for her weekly visit to town on Monday as it was the only day her art job closed. Klaus would almost always be roaming around the supermarket, waiting for her to show up so he could help pick out her dinners for the week and carry her bags home for her whilst she scolded him for trying to pay for her groceries.

Back home his family never knew where Klaus was going so often. All he said on a Monday morning was that he'd be back later to Hope and then would be gone for hours.

Never would any of them have thought he would be pushing a trolley round each aisle or juggling cartons round a shop.

Once he helped her get everything inside he would carry the bags up the steep steps leading from the back of her store but he never went into her apartment. She hadn't ever invited him in. He would just pass her bags over the threshold whilst she spoke to him from her kitchen as she put things away. When she came back out he would help her organise out back and sometimes he got to decorate the paper bags with her, swirling beautiful patterns and scenes across the material.

He'd only leave when it got dark and she became hungry, not without offering to take her out of course. Inevitably Klaus would go home in a strangely good mood, taking Hope to bed and reading her a story before going to his own room with only one thing or person on his mind.

Hayley, Rebekah and Freya would all hold the same look, knowing that Klaus was in over his head. Elijah would shake his head every time at their childish giggles and tell them to leave Niklaus alone, not that Klaus seemed the slightest bit aware. He was sure that he was very discreet about his visits.

But they all would get nosey each time he came down the stairs, skip in his usually dull step, a smile on his usually grumpy face. The girls would start to whisper and even Marcel would crack a joke every now and then. Klaus however, remained oblivious.

He hung around Y/N like a love-stuck puppy, bringing flowers and sketches for her to enjoy. But one day when he walked in, the little bell didn't ring.

A frown settled upon his face as he noticed the item on the ground. "Y/N?" He called, picking up the bell and walking further in. He heard a crash from out back and immediately pushed past the gate. Y/N was yelling incoherently, crying and backing away from a very rageful man.

A switch flicked in Klaus's mind.

Y/N sat in the corner of the room, face in her knees and hands over her ears whilst Klaus mercilessly beat the man until he couldn't blubber a word. The guy was dragged out into the alley round the back of the building, propped up by the bin and told that should he try to move, Klaus would pick him apart limb by limb.

Klaus went back to Y/N, his hands bloody so he wiped them on his shirt before taking her face into his hold only to see light bruising starting to form across the top of her cheek. His arms moved to pick her up, carrying her upstairs.

"I need you to invite me in, love." He told her, ignoring her confusion and making her say the words that allowed him inside. Once she was sat down on her sofa, blanket draped over her shoulders and an ice pack in hr hand, she started to calm down.

Her gaze stayed on Klaus as he cleaned his surprisingly unbruised hands in the kitchen sink. His henley was stained, finger smears of blood that made her feel sick.

"Who was that man?" Klaus demanded, voice much colder than she had ever heard it. It frightened her.

"He's my ex-" She told her, voice wobbly as she sniffed.

"I thought he didn't come round here?" He snapped and she flinched.

"He's not meant to...I have a restraining order" She whimpered and Klaus swallowed, trying to push his anger down. It wasn't directed at her, it was at the man bleeding out downstairs.

He wasn't thinking straight, but he knew that he needed to stop yelling. If Y/N had been in a presumably abusive relationship before then witnessing Klaus almost killing a man would not bode well for him. Being too loud, too aggressive in his movements would scare her more.

His hands rubbed down his face, trying to conjure ideas on how to fix everything. Klaus considered compelling her but he was certain that it would come back to bite him in the ass. He didn't want to be a vampire to her, a hybrid. He couldn't heal her, it would complicate things further.

What would a human do? He wondered, glancing over at her tear-stained face as she looked up at him silently begging for help.

"Should I...call the police?" He sort of offered, feeling strangely nervous. He thought maybe it was the right thing to do. He would compel his way out of any charges of course but at least to Y/N he would be a good person doing the right thing.

"No..." Y/N whispered and he was a little surprised when she shook her head. "You'll be in trouble."

"I won't...it'll be ruled as defence of innocent life, I didn't attack him, he attacked you and I stopped him. He's in the wrong." Klaus argued, voice much gentler now.

"You don't know him...he has ties and connections, the police will ruin you, you'll be taken away. He's not gonna come back...you scared him but if you take him to court he'll win. I only got the restraining order because I gave everything for it." She explained. Klaus hated how vulnerable she was because of that man.

"Okay" He murmured, nodding. "We should get you to a doctor though, you're still hurt."

"It's just bruising, nothings broken, I'd know." She uttered, her eyes glancing down momentarily in shame.

Klaus knew that he would have her ex strung up by his own intestines. Tearing him apart from the inside out and watching the fear and horror leave his face when death took his filthy soul.

Cautiously, he sat down beside her and helped her over to him to hold her in a comforting hug. Her tears began quiet before they developed into broken sobs that she must’ve been holding in for so long. Klaus understood now why she wasn't ready for him but he made her a promise that he would wait and he would continue to uphold that by being there for her so that she may heal.

Later that day once Y/N had cried herself to sleep, Klaus went out back to move her ex-boyfriend. He put him down in the dungeons of the abattoir before returning to the shop and cleaning everything up. Putting every last piece of paper back on their shelf, he picked up the torn bags that Y/N had made and put them in the bin before spending his night making a hundred more to replace them.

The next day Y/N didn't come downstairs, he could hear her lead in bed, sniffling away to herself. He didn't want to make her come down so he ran the shop for her, serving customers and packaging things the way he had seen her do and restocking shelves at the end of the day so that everything was perfect like she had it. He locked the front up for her and went upstairs, going through her cupboards to cook her something for dinner.

Her tired little self had shuffled into the room once the inviting smell travelled through her door and enticed her presence.

Klaus brought her the plate of food to the little kitchen island and helped her onto the chair. "It wasn't too busy today but it wasn't too quiet either." He told her whilst getting her some water.

"You worked for me?" She whispered and he nodded.

"Course I did, I'm not the only artist who relies on your shop." He told her, a playful element to his words to make her smile.

"Thank you" She whispered earnestly. "For today and yesterday."

"We don't need to remember yesterday." He murmured, shaking his head.

"You didn't do anything wrong... you saved me."

"Right place, right time." He argued and she scoffed softly but he wouldn't let her contradict him.

Eventually they just agreed to disagree and they tidied everything up before Klaus went home.

He got in and went straight to Hope's room, apologising for being gone so long and promising to take her out for the whole day tomorrow.

They went for ice cream, to the park, for afternoon tea and to a soft-play. All women loved seeing a dedicated father, especially an attractive one. However no matter how many mothers hit on him or how many by passers would flirt, Klaus wouldn't bat an eye. Y/N was at the centre of his mind all of the time when it came to women. He barely noticed the amount of eyes on him, the attention he usually craved.

Now the only eyes he needed on him were hers.

Weeks passed by of him continuing his routine of dropping by. Her ex-boyfriend was long gone and very mutilated. He fell harder and harder for her, he could've stared at her for lifetimes. Sometimes he would linger around the shop until she gave in and asked if he wanted to use her art studio upstairs, it was smaller than his at home but felt much more intimate. It was as though he could see her every feeling sprawled out across the walls, the floor, everything everywhere. He ended up with his own rack on canvases in her studio which he would add to as often as she let him.

He waited a fair amount of time before he got to take her out. She met him outside of her shop, dressed as gorgeous as ever when he pulled up beside her in his car. He got out to open the passenger door for her, making sure she knew how much she brightened his evening.

Y/N was a little quiet on the drive there, her walls were up when it came to dating and he knew that and made sure not to push his limits.

Dinner was as sweet as expected, he behaved as the perfect gentleman to charm her and treat her correctly. There was never a moment of doubt or a second she felt even the slightest bit uncomfortable. Everything seemed to flow perfectly.

At the end he brought her home and made sure she got in okay. There were no kisses but he had expected that and didn't mind. Klaus was too overjoyed that he had finally gotten to take her out to be stressed over a kiss.

Oh but once he got that first kiss, he never wanted a day without one.

Klaus wasn't a touchy person usually. However whenever given the opportunity to have hand on his girl? Whether it be the small of her back, her hip, her waist, her hand, her knee? It didn't matter where, so long as she was happy and comfortable.

Once the relationship started rolling, it seemed to have a smooth journey. Klaus had practically moved into her apartment.

He was always curled up around her on the sofa, tickling her sides and nuzzling her hair while she tried to finish a drawing off. Often they would both be in her little studio, getting paint everywhere as they tried to create a joint painting. Klaus would always be there for at least one out of the three meals.

After a couple months of dates and kisses, he told her something really important; that he was a father.

Y/N had been shocked and a little upset that he hadn't told her sooner but eventually she understood why he didn't want to broadcast it.

"It's nothing to do with you, my love. I wouldn't have told any woman until I..." He paused, he wasn't sure this was the right time to say he loved her. "Until I really care about them, If I had told you then I would have introduced you and I couldn't do that unless I was sure...everything's much more complicated when a child's involved." Klaus explained.

"I get it Nik, I do. I just- I need some time to digest it, okay?" She sighed and he felt his heart sink as he nodded, kissed her head and headed home.

He loved Y/N and it would break his heart but if she couldn't be apart of Hope's life ever then she couldn't be apart of his, not truly.

A few days went by, he gave her some space and didn't come by the shop, before he received a message from her asking if he would come over. Klaus knew he would never let her go after that. He let her meet Hope only a week later, watched as she pushed his daughter on the swings and went down the slide with her on her lap. Hope was still young, only just getting ready to start school so she latched onto Y/N easily.

Everything moulded together so beautifully. To him, they were the little family he had secretly craved. A family where hatred was non-existent. Love was truly boundless and honest.

Arguments were rare and were over surprisingly fast. Klaus was used to endless grudges and growing hatreds against everyone but not her and Hope. There wasn't a bad thing to say about either of them.

But it was getting difficult for a few reasons.

The main one being that he was keeping a lot of secrets. She didn't even know his name. To her he was Nik Michaels. Not Niklaus Mikaelson. He was human, an artist who was doing really well and had lots of foreign buyers. She knew he had a big family, he had mentioned some names and stories here and there but it was strongly implied that they didn't speak anymore. Y/N wouldn't have ever guessed that he was living with them. She didn't know where he lived, just assumed he hadn't ever taken her before because she'd never asked and because of Hope.

Another growing issue for Klaus was his need for further intimacy. He had so much understanding for how she felt and how she had been treated in the past, he wouldn't voice his desires but they were slowly driving him crazy.

The amount of masterbation he had engaged in since he met her was making his balls hurt. As a man who had never really had such tight loyalty to a woman or had to wait so long for any sort of sexual contact, the past months drove his body crazy. Especially with how perfect she was.

Sometimes when they'd snuggle up he'd feel himself get all hard again, he'd ignore it for as long as possible before it became painful. It was unclear as to whether Y/N was unaware or choosing to ignore what was happening when he would disappear to another room to try to ease the tension.

There had been a lot of times that he had smelt her lovely arousal, often when making out or lead in bed but she never addressed it either so he knew she wasn't ready.

Klaus knew she wasn't ready to have sex but he wondered if she was ready for anything else.

So when she was laid against him on the sofa beneath a blanket with a romantic film playing in front of her, he let his hands slip downwards. He mirrored the actions of the man on the screen, letting his fingers disappear under her waist band and graze over her panties. Y/N's hand held onto his shirt at his shoulder, she was tense but nodded silently. Klaus's fingers pet her clit through the cotton barrier, varying his pressure and direction. A series of little mewls and gasps left her soft lips whilst her head went down, her face pressing into his shoulder as her hips rolled against his hand and wrist. "You feel so lovely." He whispered as he pulled her underwear aside and coated his fingers in her wetness.

Y/N held onto him so tightly, her breathing messy and unpredictable as she whimpered. "Please Nik, please keep going."

Klaus groaned at the sound of her begging and eagerly obliged. He leant down to kiss her forehead softly to keep her comforted as he circled his fingers over her sweet little jewel. He was slightly hesitant to let his middle finger sink into her but after another minute of her delicate little moans he let her tight heat encase his skin.

The sound she produced was pornographic and her hips thrust forward with desperation. Klaus felt her nails break through his shirt and dig into his skin making hiss in a pained delight and pump a second finger within her velvet walls.

"Nik!" She cried beautifully and he leaned down to kiss below her ear before nipping her earlobe. Her moans fuelled his wrist to move faster, push deeper. The slippery swollen clit beneath the pad of his thumb felt as though it was buzzing as her face pushed right into his neck, a muffled call leaving her as she came undone.

Klaus eased his fingers out of her gently and gradually slowed the stroke of his thumb before pulling his hand out from under the covers and sucking her taste from them. His eyes rolled back and his tongue licked over his bottom lip to catch the drip.

He looked down to look at Y/N as her chest rose and fell dramatically with each breath and her hair stuck to the back of her neck making him push the blanket down a bit to help her cool.

Klaus kissed her cheek before turning her head with his hand to feel those lips he loved so dearly against his own. He loved how she panted into their kiss, stealing all the air from his lungs and letting him be blessed with another soft little moan he had dreamt of for months.

He pulled away slowly and kissed her lips a few more times, looking down at her eyes through his own and enjoying her disheveled state.

"I love you." Klaus whispered, his eyes darting between hers to gage her reaction.

"I love you too." She replied without missing a beat making him release a breath and kissing her again for a little longer to really saver that feeling.

From that day Klaus almost lived in her little apartment. He restocked shelves in the evening, helped her cook, helped clean and then snuggled until bed. Hope had been coming round a few days in the week, not sleeping over because he didn't want to raise alarm bells with his family and also because there wasn't room but she came over to play after the store closed and on Mondays when it was closed they would often drive out of town to go to softplays and parks.

A couple times Hope had accidentally called Y/N 'Mommy'. Every time Hope would either feel really bad and cry or wouldn't notice at all, no in between. Klaus would calm her down and tell her that Y/N didn't mind and that they knew she didn't mean it to upset her real mommy. Y/N would just soften even more. Being a parent was something she did want one day and knowing that to Hope she was good enough to be called her mommy gave her such joy and love for the sweet child.

Klaus and Y/N never mentioned having children. It was a little difficult with them living separately and her working nearly everyday so it wasn't brought up. They didn't think nor worry about that.

Well...not until she wound up pregnant.

Klaus had just unlocked the door to come inside, bouquet of flowers in his hand and smile on his face before he heard her soft sniffles from the bathroom. His face dropped and he quickly shoved the door open.

His brows furrowed before his eyes widened as he looked around. At least five pregnancy tests were littered on the floor around her as she curled into herself and cried.

Slowly he picked one up and read that magic little word. Klaus swallowed thickly and knelt down to wrap his arms around Y/N's frame.

"It's alright, love." He whispered to her. His hands rubbed her back and sides gently whilst he focused his hearing on her body, listening for that faint little beat of their baby's heart.

Her head shook with a sniff as she leaned against him. "I can't afford a baby...it's too soon. I'm not- I was gonna wait at least a couple years, we haven't been together long enough-"

Klaus tried to shush her gently but her breathing became more and more rapid and her words started to blur together. Klaus could feel the worry building except he was worrying for two now.

"Y/N" He murmured, cupping her teary face in his hands. "We'll figure this out. I'm gonna be here, I can afford this okay? You can't worry about that. Just... just worry about your health and our baby." He trailed as his hand slid down her front to her tummy.

Y/N looked up at him through glassy eyes before glancing at his hand. She was quiet for the longest time, staying on the floor as he cleaned up the tests, throwing all but one out.

He made sure she ate something for dinner before going to bed with her, snuggling close and whispering about how beautiful their little boy or girl would be.

Y/N went back to work the next day, despite Klaus trying to persuade her that he could run the shop whilst she had a few days to herself.

So whilst she ran the art store, he started looking at real-estate nearby. He knew that they would need a house with at least three bedrooms if not four; one for them, one for the baby and one for Hope. If he could get a four bed it could be a playroom and then one day another bedroom. Klaus worried a bit over how his family would be, if they'd let him take Hope. Of course Hayley would have her half the time but he knew Hayley and he knew she wouldn't want split custody. But he couldn't leave Y/N and their child so he'd have to get it to work.

In the early months of Y/N's pregnancy everything was normal. Klaus kept up his visits, took her to doctors appointments and hid little sonograms in his room at home.

Though they didn't stay there long before he found a house.

It was perfect.

Five bedrooms, two of which were en suites with showers. A separate bathroom upstairs with both bath and shower and then a smaller one downstairs. The kitchen was spacious and had a lot of potential which Klaus immediately took advantage of and had people in and out all of the time to fit the marble countertops. Then he had an island fitted for the mental image of his cute little family having breakfast still dressed in their pyjamas and slippers. He still had a dining table for their evening meals and for when Hope got older and wanted to invite friends over or anything. He also furnished the living-room to be comfy and inviting with a beautiful fireplace and everything.

Klaus had lived in many houses, mansions, apartments but they were never a home. They were soulless, empty buildings that he just floated around so this time he wanted to make it homey and special. Warm, comfortable and full of life.

Once Y/N was six, almost seven months pregnant, Klaus told he had a surprise for her that required her to be blindfolded. She had yawned and told him that she was too tired which made him chuckle before leading her into the car.

When he took the cloth away from her eyes she was faced with such a stereotypical sight; that big white picket fenced house with a lovely lawn covered in flowers and berry plants.

Klaus wrapped his arms around her from behind, resting both hands on her now prominent baby-bump whilst placing a kiss to her temple.

"I know you were worried about raising our little one in your flat...The house is all ready for us, I'll keep your apartment above the shop so that you still have it and I’ll run the art store whilst you’re on maternity- We can have your things moved here- though I did buy some new-" He kept rambling but Y/N spun round and pushed her lips to his to shut him up.

She pulled away after a moment and rest her head in the crook of her neck, Klaus nuzzled into her hair before he realised she was sniffling back tears.

"What's wrong, my love?" He whispered and she wiped her eyes.

"Nothing...it's just perfect...you're perfect." She whimpered and he smiled, holding her tight. He chuckled softly, her pregnancy hormones had made her so teary over the smallest things but he didn't mind.

"You want to go see inside?" He asked her and she nodded vigorously, holding onto his hand as he lead her to the doorway.

He showed her the downstairs before taking her to their bedroom. On the bedside table was a framed sonogram and a framed positive pregnancy test. Y/N was a sniffling mess in seconds and Klaus was kissing all over her face to try calm those cries away. She was a mess when he brought her to the nursery, it wasn't decorated yet, only a simple crib in the room.

"I couldn't design this room without you." He whispered, stroking her bump as he did so.

That night Y/N and Klaus cooked for the first time in their new house, snuggled by their never before used fireplace and then went up to their new bed.

Klaus helped her our of her maternity clothes, shushing her when she told him she was gross like this. "You're gorgeous like this, I love that you're pregnant with our baby." He told her as he unclipped her bra making her whimper.

"I just want it out of me now." She sniffed, trying to cover her body with her arms and hands but he wouldn't let her.

"I love your body, it's always beautiful." He promised while pushing her to lay down on her back. Klaus wiped away the little tears that gathered in the corners of her eyes and kissed her sweet lips. His hands slid up to gently cup her swollen breasts, caressing them softly and kissing her jaw.

"We can't have sex like this...I look like-"

"You look like an angel." He cut her off, refusing to hear her talk bad about herself. He trailed his lips down her neck to her chest before sucking little red marks into her breasts. Klaus listened to her whimper, glancing up to check she wasn't hurting from how sore she was becoming lately. He smiled when he saw the look of pleasure in her eyes and slipped his hand down between her thighs where it belonged.

He stroked her pussy gently, feeling how wet she was without him having to do anything. Klaus knew Y/N needed him, his body, much more then she would ask for because she had become so self-conscious since getting a little bigger. Klaus found it silly that she could think being full of his child would make her less attractive, if anything it made her ten times sexier. Of course he knew that sometimes she was too tired but there were many occasions when she needed him and he knew it but wouldn't want him to touch her.

Tonight he felt the strong need to satisfy his love. So he circled her clit rhythmically whilst getting his pants off as swiftly as possible.

Y/N had no time to protest before his cock was burying inside her. She whimpered loudly and rolled her head to the side. "Nik..." She moaned and he groaned, leaning down to kiss her cheek round to her lips.

Y/N was desperate for the feel of his mouth on hers, the thrust of his cock between her walls and the grip of his hands on her hips but she couldn't help but worry about how she looked and she only knew she was going to get bigger in the remaining three months. Her eyes glanced down at her belly and the was he tried his best not to touch it as his hips rocked up against hers. Their lips parted and he cupped the side of her face.

"I'm just making sure I don't hurt the baby is all." He whispered, noticing her sad stare. "Don't think I don't want to touch you all over." He purred into her ear before sucking her earlobe between his teeth. "Once our little one is born and you're all rested I'll make sure you remember how good it feels when I get rough, hm?" He murmured whilst kissing the side of her face.

Y/N nodded stiffly and pushed her face into the crook of his neck, just focusing on the heat of his skin on hers and the electricity running in their veins.

Klaus kept his body moving, bucking his hips just right to make her moan into his skin. His hand kept playing with her swollen clit, teasing her closer and closer.

He grew more needy for her cunt to clamp down as he felt himself leak a few drops inside her. Klaus was grateful that she couldn't see his face when his eyes went gold and his fangs elongated, threatening her flavoursome flesh. Y/N could feel his breathing against her shoulder as his fingers dug into her sides.

"That's it, love-" He gasped, thrusting faster before slowing and giving a few slow, calculated plunges of his cock before feeling her sweet pussy squeeze tighten and gush around him. Klaus released a fast breath, urging his hybrid features to go away when he felt her shift beneath him, whispering if he was okay. He forced the fangs back in, the gold away and the veins to fade beneath his eyes as he felt her insecurities start to bubble.

Klaus pushed up on his arms, leaning down to kiss her deeply. His hands caressed up and down her body, making sure not to leave an inch of her untouched before he pulled himself out of her and slid his hands under her.

"Oh god- Nik don’t even try-" She protested but he picked her up with ease, much to her surprise, and carried her to their en suite bathroom.

Y/N went quiet at how easily he seemed to hold her as he ran a bath. Then lowered her into the warm water and continued to clean the sweat from her body and lean down to leave a display of kisses on her already marked up skin.

She couldn't help but just gaze at him as he let her relax amongst the bubbles and washed himself in the glass shower. The hybrid smirked to himself as he felt his love's eyes on him as the water ran down the length of his body. He cast a few looks her way, admiring her shy smile as she sunk into the water though that beautiful bump of hers still peaked up at him.

Once they were both out they laid down in the now clean bed. (Klaus had managed to secretly use his vampire speed to change all the bedding). They curled up together and drifted to a peaceful sleep.

The weeks seemed to go so fast, Klaus kept forgetting to go home to the point where his siblings actually thought something bad had happened.

Which was why when Klaus had gone grocery shopping for the two of them, Y/N was home alone to answer the door to three of his siblings.

Rebekah, Elijah and Freya all held threatening stances as they glared down the door, expecting a witch or a vampire. None of them were expecting nine-month-pregnant, overly emotional and tired young woman to answer the door.

She looked back at them a little confused and frightened when she realised they did not look friendly and she did not recognise them form the little neighbourhood she and Klaus had been getting to know. She shifted on her feet and placed a protective hand on her pregnant tummy.

"Can I help you?" She asked, voice soft and clearly nervous making the three siblings share a few looks. Elijah was about to apologise and claim they had the wrong house but Rebekah got in first.

"Do you know Klaus?" She questioned, tone coming out too harsh making Elijah wince.

"Uhm no...I'm sorry, I don't think anyone called Klaus lives close. Uh... two streets over theres a Clyde?" She tried to be helpful and it was obvious to all three of them that this girl wasn't going to have the answers they were looking for.

"We're very sorry for the intrusion miss." Elijah apologised, silently urging his sisters to leave this woman alone. "I think we got the wrong street, I hope you can forgive us." He told her earnestly and she nodded.

"It's okay...theres a lot of roads its easy to go down the wrong one- oh!" She cut herself off with a cry and they all went tense. Elijah stepped forward offering his arm for her to grab and squeeze painfully and she yelled out in pain.

"Rebekah! Start the car!" He called, wrapping his arm round the woman and helping her out the house. "Freya? Where's the closest hospital?" He questioned whilst squeezing her hand as her breathing started to level out.

"It's okay" Y/N whimpered, not wanting to give birth without Nik.

"Of course it's okay darling. Has your water broke yet?" Elijah asked, guiding her to the car.

"Yeah- It went just before you knocked... I was about to call- Oh god Nik- my phone I can't-" Her breathing picked up again but this time in a panic before another contraction came and she cried out, clutching his hand for dear life.

"It's alright, it's alright. The hospital will have his number, is he your next of kin?" He asked and she nodded, relaxing at the realisation and letting him ease her into the car.

Rebekah drove like a mad women, trying to keep conversation flowing; name, age, family, future plans. Freya was talking through breathing exercises and Elijah kept himself as a human stress ball.

Once they pulled up at the hospital they were all rushing in, yelling that they needed nurses, doctors anything to help this woman.

Surprisingly they all remained in the waiting room for a couple hours after feeling a strange bond with the mother-to-be after finding and helping her.

None of them really linked the fact that her boyfriend’s name being Nik could have been Niklaus, especially with how confused she was when they said Klaus.

So nobody was ready for Klaus to come rushing through the hospital, barging past anything and shoving the door open.

A silence fell over the three for the first time in years as they just stared at the closed door. Nobody moved for ages, even as Klaus dashed in and out of the room for more ice-chips, they just stayed put.

Occasionally one of them would go to the bathroom or to get a sandwich from a vending machine but they didn't even consider leaving the hospital until they heard the cries of a beautiful newborn baby.

Rebekah physically relaxed, collapsing in her seat when she was sure that the baby was okay. Hayley received a vague text that they'd be home sometime in the next couple days before they got back to patiently waiting for Y/N To be well enough.

The next morning the door opened and all three of them got up to their feet at the sight of Klaus with his arms around Y/N and her arms around the sweetest little baby ever.

"Oh. Those are the lovely people I told you about." She told Klaus, looking straight at them making Klaus turn his head.

His face dropped when he saw them and her heart-rate spiked. He tried to shake his head, to get out of this but he was panicking.

Y/N didn't know about the supernaturals. She didn't know about all his siblings. She didn't know he was Klaus. She didn't know anywhere near enough to be dealing with any of it right after giving birth.

"That's...that's very...kind of them." He choked out, trying to get anything out of him.

"We should thank them, they didn't need to stay." She whispered to him and he hesitantly nodded.

"I'll thank them, you get him into the car okay my love? He needs to get away from all these sick people." He told her, kissing her head and then his son's.

"No- Nik, come on lets just go say thank you." She argued, tiredly and made her way over making him hurry after her and keep his hand on her so they couldn't get too close.

He glared them down, daring them to say a word as Y/N thanked them so so much for getting her there safely and talking to her. She showed them the baby and Elijah worried that Klaus might actually snap when Rebekah asked to hold him.

"I think he's a little tired, probably best to get him home. Come on love, we all need rest." He urged and Freya nodded, putting a hand on Rebekah's shoulder.

"He's right, they need to get settled. Maybe one day we'll get to see the little man again." She agreed but the underlying question was there as to whether Klaus was ever planning to come clean about whatever was going on.

He let out a sigh and slipped his hand round to hold his son's tiny hand.

"Perhaps. Now we really need to leave." He was getting frustrated and Y/N was confused.

He lead her away and she looked up at him.

"Nik...is something wrong? Do you know them?" She asked as they got out the door and a frown swirled across his features.

"It's...I'm gonna explain it later okay? I just need you both inside and safe and comfy, I just..." He swallowed down his worry and strapped their little boy into the carseat. "I love you." He told her, standing up straight and cupping her face.

"I love you too...I don't understand what that-"

"It doesn't, I just need you to know how much I adore you." He whispered and she smiled.

"I love you too." She kissed his lips softly. "Nothing's going to change that." She promised and Freya, Elijah and Rebekah listened from round the corner with soft smiles on their faces.

Everything was going to be different when they got home. Klaus was worried. His son had just been born, healthy and perfect. He had planned to bring them home, feed her a lovely dinner and possibly propose to her.

He had chosen the most gorgeous ring. Klaus wanted to be with her forever, especially now that they had a new little angel that they shared. He hadn't ever had such a normal, domesticated relationship.

The house, the kids.

If they got a pet his life would be every movie ever.

But now he had to ruin it all. He had to reveal the worst parts about himself.

How would his darling Y/N react when she found out he was a serial-killing monster who's haunted millions of people for hundreds of years. Or that he daggered his own siblings, tortured innocents and sacrificed teenagers.

Could she forgive that? Should she love him? Would she even want someone like that near such a delicate baby boy?

Klaus stared at himself in the mirror, tucking the ring box back into his hiding place and taking a breath as he tried to ready himself.

[backwardshatnick]

𝗁𝖾𝗋 𝗌𝖾𝖼𝗈𝗇𝖽 𝗋𝖾𝗊𝗎𝖾𝗌𝗍 𝗐𝖺𝗌 𝖾𝗆𝗉𝗍𝗒

in which her requests sound less like a message in a bottle but more like a conversation barred from going direct.

pairing: college radio dj!chris x childhood neighbour!reader wc: 852 notes: i suck at writing angst oh my god, i need them to be happy asap as possible (in the wise words of michael scott loool). click here for the masterlist :) and divider by @bernardsbendystraws!

She saw him from across the cafeteria before he had a chance to see her, her heart jolting within her ribcage, deafening the constant chatter from the students and the shouts from the workers at the various stalls. Her inner monologue rang throughout her mind, telling her to instantly stand up straight, fix her hair, brush her bangs, adjust her gold hoops and wipe the sides of her lips from the crumbs of her sandwich that she had hours ago.

Chris was walking towards her, AirPods in with hoodie sleeves pushed to his elbows, showing just the right amount of forearm that could make her sweat incessantly and have the sight tattooed in her memory. He had a half-full can of Pepsi in one hand and a stride so slow and expression unbothered until their eyes met making her breath catch mid-inhale.

It was too late for her to turn around and fake a phone call, looking around the cafeteria mindlessly to pretend and memorise the plastered menus on the wall. He gave her a smile— polite, friendly and casual. Something that everyone could see etched on a stranger’s face because that was what they are now, simply strangers with no stories to share and no letters exchanged.

Her own lips twitched involuntarily, unsure if they should return the gesture or tremble, hence she stepped to the side to give him his way, but so did he.

They did the awkward mirror-shuffle thing, both causing the other to let out a soft laugh and mumble an apology at the same time. And for a second, Chris’ arm had brushed against her mahogany cable-knit jumper, but that was all.

Chris gave her a simple nod before walking away, leaving her standing in the middle of the canteen with her breathing shallow as she watched the back of his green hoodie disappear into the crowd.

She wanted to scream “It’s me! The girl next door. The bike. The golden retriever. The song. And I'm sorry.”

But she did not.

Instead, she turned her heels to the other side of the exit, heart thudding with something that was not quite rejection but it was not far off either. Her steps sending her a constant reminder for her to wonder if he had remembered anything before she had to say anything out loud.

Back at the booth, Chris was halfway through reading someone’s review of a cult holiday movie on-air when his computer had lit up with a new request coming through.

“And that is why I will never rewatch Home Alone because what in the actual hell is wrong with Kevin’s parents? And that sadistic little monster could’ve just called the cops before wreaking havoc in his own house with marbles— Oh, looks like we have a new song request!”

He nearly let out a pained laugh through the mic when the first thought that had crossed his mind was whether it was a request from the very same Anonymous.

“This one is coming from yet another named anonymous, asking for Empty by The Cranberries. Dedicated to themselves as a reminder of bottled-up feelings and how regret is just a passing ghost. I’d have to say I feel the same way, too. Bottling up feelings is one of my coping mechanisms but it never really works out in the end. So to the dearest ScaredOfConfrontation, I hope everything works out in your favour soon. May we all heal from our past wounds.”

With a click, Chris turned off his microphone to allow the haunting piano notes of the song to play, domineering throughout the booth as the synth builds up.

The guitar finally kicked in as he kicked his legs back to relax in the swivel chair, but he just could not. Relaxing turning into a moment to think. There was just something in the song that tugged at him like a thread.

He just did not know why.

Yet.

Elsewhere in a serene neighbourhood, lit up by tall streetlamps and patio lights of homes which reflected the white crystals of thick snow on bushes, was a laptop screen which glowed upon a feminine face, her body all curled up in bed with the fleece blanket pulled up to her chin.

The crescendo of the song emanating throughout her room as the somewhat purging emotions of the song, the feeling of emptiness, boomed from the speakers of her laptop.

Despite that, Chris’ voice kept on ringing in her ears, his very last sentence replaying in her head like a broken cassette tape. She had not meant for it to feel like a dialogue, but somehow, her second request to him felt less like a message in a bottle and more like a conversation that had yet to start.

She was certain that he did not know who she was, the light brushing of arms from this afternoon surely bore no meaning, not even knocking in the slightest bit of reminiscence in his mind.

Maybe he never will be reminded of anything.

But somehow, the strange closeness sent through the static of his voice reverberated with a warmth that surely was not empty.

It felt meaningful. And maybe hopeful too.

📻 @mattsdiva @oopsiedaisydeer @izzylovesmatt @mattspillowprincess

[iboatedhere]

Thank you @anincompletelist @liminalmemories21 @clottedcreamfudge @cha-melodius & @lemonlyman-dotcom for the tags♥️

Most of my words are either a secret (AWY event) or already posted (Ficlet Friday) and I’m swiftly running out of unshared words from my other WIPs BUT:

—

FirstPrince Reporter AU

He feels like he’s stuck in limbo. Not as young as he once was, but not old, either. Not lonely, but definitely alone. He’s simply floating through life, waiting for something big to happen.

He doesn’t really think it’s going to happen tonight, not at this club. The music is loud and the drinks are cheap but Grant, with stubble and green eyes, is cute and clearly into him. It’s not a life changing encounter, but it could be fun.

“You know my flat isn’t far from here,” Grant says as he leans in, his hand falling to Alex’s hip.

It would be nice but before Alex can accept the invitation, he glances over Grant’s shoulder and catches a flash of brown hair and a familiar face.

Maybe it’s the fact that he’s only one and a half drinks in while everyone else is at least four, or the low lighting, or that nobody here looks like they give a flying fuck about the monarchy but Princess Beatrice floats through the crowd without turning a head.

Since Alex has been covering the royals, he’s made a game of spotting their protection details. Some of them are obvious—dark suits and glasses, a flash of a handgun on one hip and a radio on the other. Sometimes they like to blend in, especially in large crowds, winding their way through the masses to stop a threat before it starts. But jeans and jumpers don’t hide the straight line of their shoulders or the way their heads are always on a swivel. Alex can spot them from a mile away.

Tonight he doesn’t see anyone.

There’s no one to stop her from plucking a drink out of a stranger's hand and downing it all in one go or for some random guy to grab her around the waist and pull her against him.

It’s concerning, given that she’s supposed to be at a wellness retreat for the next three weeks even though everyone knows that’s code for rehab.

“Fuck,” Alex says and Grant nods.

“Yes, that’s the plan.”

—

WolfNichols Grief Fic

Wolf’s never met Josh’s parents—at least not formally.

He’s answered Josh’s phone when they’ve called; when Josh was up to his elbows in soapy dishwater or just stepped into the shower, or stepped out to get the mail. Josh had told him to answer—that if it went to voicemail he’d just have to call them back and that’s more work than he wanted to put in.

He’s had polite conversations, mostly with his mother. They’ve talked about the weather and the hospital—everything vague and impersonal. Wolf knows they know who he is and what he is to Josh. Josh has never made an excuse for him or took a call to another room. At some point, Josh must have told them that they were living together because the next Christmas card came addressed to both of them. Wolf had thought it was nice while Josh tossed it onto the counter with a grunt before dumping the junk mail into the trash.

That’s really the extent of it. Michael and Deborah Nichols, now just Deborah Nichols, who lives in Stonington, Connecticut, and gave birth to a son nearly fifty years ago who, inexplicably, has decided to love Wolf and who Wolf loves as easy as breathing in return.

It’s a lot to know, but it’s also nothing to know. For as open Josh is to talking about his feelings, his parents seem to be a major sticking point. Josh has had a three-sixty view of Wolf’s family drama for years. He has listened to Wolf rant and cry and comforted him when Wolf felt like he didn’t deserve it. He’s stood by him through his father’s sudden reintroduction into his life and during his slow and painful exit. Wolf has always wanted to ask what the deal is. He’s always wanted to be on the same page but he’s never wanted to push.

Now it feels like life is pushing back as they make their way through stop and go traffic on I-95, just outside of Milford.

—

Tagging: @porcelainmortal @bitbybitwrites @dizzymisslizzie @ericka--kinney @onthewaytosomewhere @suseagull5914 @sophie1973

[priceyprice]

Prof!Price

Prof! Price as a literature professor. He's giving an online class to his students talking about how romance is involved in books. Until one of his students through the computer interrupts him.

"Professor, do you believe in love?"

He won't lie. That question threw him by surprise, halting his words. He stares at the computer for a few seconds, trying to analyze what's the answer. Just then, he raised his eyes to something in front of him.

Or someone.

Does he believe in love?

Well, if love is described as one of his students entering his class on the first day and struck Price the instant she stepped food into his classroom, making him almost unable to greet all the people, then yes. If Love is described as how he found her days later in his favorite coffee shop trying to do her homework, him feeling confused (and strangely happy) because he's seeing her in one of his favorite places, took the courage to stepped closer to her and talk to her for a few minutes as she showed him her precious smile, then yes. If love is how the talk went for hours and hours until the coffee shop had to close, neither the two of them checked the time, just immersed in the conversation and realizing they have so much in common then, yes. If Love is how they got closer when months passed and Price was feeling kinda anxious because he was falling hard for her and she was his student, he was her professor and he is older than her, but one day she walked iinto his office —she had been visiting him— and he couldn't take it anymore, he stepped closer and kissed her lips so softly, as if her lips were some kind of fine porcelain. His emotions exploded then and there, and when they separated, he realized what he had done. He kissed one of his students, he could get in trouble, she could get in trouble or worse... he didn't know if she felt the same as him as she was frozen on the spot. But when he felt her hands go to his face cupping him and bringing him closer to her lips once again, all his worries vanished within a second, as if her kiss had some kind of anesthesia. If love means all of that, then yes.

If love means the two of them in his room filled with gasps, kisses, and whispered words as he thrusts her in a slow, intimate way, demonstrated how much he loves her, then yes.

If love is the woman now sitting in front of him on his other desk, her eyebrows together as she concentrates on doing her homework, oblivious to the topic her lover is teaching. She has one of his t-shirts, her neck showing a few love bites he gave her forty minutes before class started, then yes.

He believes in love.

His lips curve into a small smile. Without taking his eyes off her, he says; "Yes."

Once he says that, she looks up at him, grabbing attention to what he just said. He smiles, and she looks at him with a confused smile.

"I do believe in love."

Her smile dropped a little as she stared at him with surprise, then she smiled again, a warm feeling spreading over her chest. She mouthed an 'I love you too' while blowing him a kiss and looking at him with those eyes he loves.

Fuck, how could he not love her eyes? It was like Van Gogh painted them, and Michael Angelo sculpted them. They are so beautiful.

He doesn't care about the consequences of being with a student, he only cares about her.

And she cares about him too.

Until then, she loves him, and he loves her.

: : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : :

I apologize for any mistakes or misspelling. Any suggestions are appreciated.🫶

[daiseukiis]

╰ ⋆ 𝐇𝐘𝐏𝐄 𝐁𝐎𝐘 ଓ.° ╮

𓄹 ⌗ OVA 002. ⠀⠀⠀⠀passenger princess

CONTENT. profanity, alcohol

001 | MASTERLIST | 003

⠀⠀⠀⠀"you're so insufferable, y'know?" izumi pulls up to the same hijiri-bashi bridge kaiser had stopped by. her brown locks flying through the wind as she approaches the german boy who peacefully drinks his pilsner silently as he listens to cars that pass by. kaiser scoffs at her retort, "really? then what are you doing here."

"wanted to watch you get drunk and fall off the bridge." she stands beside him, body leaning on the rails like he was. the boy rolls his eyes, taking a sip of his beer without even looking at her. "what a shitty friend you are."

"you've never acted like this with the other girls." the tokyo night breeze blows through both their bodies, refreshing them and even cause kaiser to sober up the slightest. "do you really like her this much?"

he glares at izumi, "who said i liked her?" with a deadpan expression izumi manages to spews out her words in disbelief, "you left the party after she posted a picture with shohei."

"my love life isn't any of your concern."

"it is from the moment you butted into mine, asshole."

"you're so fucking annoying."

"and you think you aren't."

it wasn't a rare sight to see the both of them upset and irritated at each other, if anything it was like as if they were cats and dogs. you think isagi and kaiser could argue, get stuck in a room with these two.

yet izumi couldn't help herself, "but thanks,"

"for what?" kaiser raises a brow in confusion, it's not often that izumi would show her appreciation vocally to him. in fact, he was actually weirded out with the stink face he pulled. he even thought he was starting to hear things until he saw the genuine smile on the australian's face.

"i heard you told tatsuya that i liked koalas, he gave me a plush of one on our first date." izumi playfully punches kaiser's shoulder midway as he takes a sip of his bottle, "you can be quite a gentleman when you want to be."

"don't go falling for me next—"

"shut the actual fuck up."

kaiser bursts out laughing at izumi's quick and sharp voice, instantly turning his flirtatious joke down in an instant. yet his laugher slowly fades when the phone in his hand lights up with a reminder notification to mae's earlier text from him.

"mae?" izumi peaks over trying to take a look at their conversation, yet to no avail for her since the two of them texted in only german. curious, "what did she say?"

"she congratulated me on tonight's win." kaiser sucks in a breath, looking at the most recent text— which was actually from almost half an hour ago. the bright screen illuminates his face and the the text was right in front of him, as if it was mocking his existence.

"you left her on read." izumi stated the oh so obvious, knocking kaiser out of his not so existential mid-life crisis. "i know." he exasperatedly says causing izumi to blankly snatch his phone. "what are you doing?!"

"replying danke to her because you wouldn't." izumi knew the basics of german, hell, she even knew the basics of common courtesy ( though that didn't apply to a few people ). she hands back his phone, staring at the irritated look on kaiser's face. "your read receipt is on, she probably thinks you're ignoring her since you haven't responded for over half an hour."

he sighs in defeat, giving izumi his signature smirk. "aren't you insightful." he can't help but acknowledge those facts, stuffing his phone in his pocket and running a hand through his hair to untangle it from the wind's doing. his other hand brings the bottle to his lips, downing the remainder of the alcohol.

"how many beers have you drank?" izumi eyes down the football player that smirks, throwing his bottle into the nearest recycling bin. "like seven?"

"yeah, you're not driving."

"i'm your passenger princess tonight?"

"i'll push you off this bridge, michael kaiser."

𝐂𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐌𝐘 𝐏𝐇𝐎𝐍𝐄 𝐑𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 𝐍𝐎𝐖 !

⠀⠀⠀⠀￫ izumi knows basic german and majority swears because kaiser taught her.

⠀⠀⠀⠀￫ izumi and kaiser actually share locations for fun, majority of the pretty trust fund kids gc all share locations with each other. except for rin who only shares his location with aki.

⠀⠀⠀⠀￫ izumi doesn’t actually like to drink a lot, hence the reason why she was able to drive to kaiser.

REBLOGS ARE APPRECIATED !

© daiseukiis 2025. all rights reserved. do not repost, modify, translate without permission. do not claim work or layout as yours.

[marvelobsessed134]

Halloween party shenanigans

Pairings: Early 2000s!Tommy Lee x Fem!reader

Warnings: drinking, drunk reader and her shenanigans,Tommy punches a guy for hitting on you cause I think it’s hot, age gap, reader has an Elvis obsession because yes.

Summary: you go to a Halloween party with your boyfriend

You’re dressed as none other than Priscilla Presley this year because your obsession with Elvis is ever growing and your love for his wife was growing too. You love her hair especially. So you have a black wig with the giant beehive. You’re wearing a shorter version of her wedding dress with a veil on top of your head. Her iconic makeup adorning your face.

You walked down the tile stairs to the foyer where your boyfriend was waiting. He was dressed as spiderman, ever the kid at heart. Especially after the new Spider-Man movie with Tobey Maguire came out.

The drummer heard your heels clacking and looked up to see you walking gracefully down the stairs. “Holy fuck, babe. You look beautiful.” Tommy had nothing but love and adoration in his eyes.

You giggled, “Thank you. You don’t look to bad yourself.”

“Yeah well, I definitely don’t look as sexy as you holy shit.” He held his arms open for you and you walked into them after reaching the floor, the two of you in an embrace.

The moment was interrupted by his cellphone buzzing. “Ugh, it’s probably Nikki saying ‘where the fuck are you?’ He can’t stop being an asshole outside of work. So fucking glad I left motley.”

“Oh but you love him.” You gave him a teasing smile.

“Yeah, yeah. Let’s go before he personally shows up to our house.”

The two of you made it to the party which was being hosted at none other than Saul Hudson’s house or as most people know him, Slash.

You’re pretty good friends with him since you produced a couple of his songs. Yep, you’re a music producer and damn good one at that.

Making your way through the crowd you greeted the man himself, who was dressed as a vampire but still adorned his iconic top hat.

“Slash!” You cheered with open arms. The two of you had a brief hug because someone is a little territorial. You love him for that though.

“Y/n!” He exclaimed back with a wide smile before exchanging a brotherly handshake with Tommy. “You make a great Priscilla.” Slash commented.

“Thanks. See I wanted this one to go as Elvis but as soon as he saw Spider-Man he was dead set on his costume.” You pointed you thumb to the drummer.

“Hey, in my defense it was much easier to get a Spider-Man costume than an Elvis costume.” You playfully rolled your eyes at that, “Whatever. Come on let’s go find everyone else.”

When the two of you spotted nikki who was comedically dressed as Michael Meyers, freaking you out just a little bit until he took the mask off when he realized it was making you feel uneasy.

“Sorry sweetheart, didn’t mean to scare you.” The bassist apologized and you smiled with a shake of your head. “It’s fine, I’m just a not a slasher person.”

The terror twins continued to have a conversation when you were distracted by one of your friends, Holly Madison. You quickly told Tommy you’d be right back as you rushed over to her.

She was dressed as tinker bell looking beautiful as always. “Holly!!” You exclaimed and her face lit up when she saw you. The two of you hugged tightly before letting go. “Oh my god you look beautiful.” The two of you said at the same time looking at each other’s outfits.

“Ok I’ve been waiting for you to show up so we can get drunk!” The blonde cheered and you laughed with a nod.

Four drinks later you were already drunk. Dancing on the counter top, Tommy watching you carefully to make sure you didn’t get hurt. When you got down with the help of some random guy who you didn’t know would cause you trouble in just a few moments, you tripped and almost fell when you were caught by him.

“Whoa, careful babe.” He chuckled and you immediately pulled his hand off of you. “Thanks for helping me.” You said.

He waved you off, “It was no problem. Hey, you’re that music producer. You produced for my band once.” You don’t even know this guy. “I did?”

“Yeah. Always thought you were pretty. You wanna go out someti-“ he was cut off by a punch being thrown at him, knocking him to the floor. Your boyfriend stood over him, anger in his eyes.

“Stay the fuck away from my woman. Got that?”

The man nodded and hissed in pain.

“Oh my god Tommy! You can’t totally do that!” You we’re slurring your words and he knew you were very drunk. “Come on, let’s get you home.” The brunette whispered.

“Noooo I wanna stay right here.” You made a show of stomping your foot on the ground with your arms crossed. Tommy wrapped an arm around your waist, “No, you’ve had enough partying tonight. Cmon baby.” And with a huff, you let him take you home.

[caspianmaxson]

The sea called again, as it always did. And like every departure, it left something behind in its wake. This time, it was not just land or stone walls or fleeting warmth—it was something heavier. Something closer to longing.

Michael stood at the edge of the dock, his dark coat whipped by the wind, the familiar tang of salt and morning mist clinging to his skin. His ship, The Vagrant Star, was ready to depart, sails furled like wings aching for the sky. Behind him, footsteps softened over the wooden planks—his cousin Luca’s easy stride, Mila’s quiet presence beside him, and the gentle rustle of silk announced the arrival of Princess Aurora.

He had returned to the Isles only for two reasons, though both had stirred deeper tides within him than expected. The first was Bianca. His most loyal friend, his confidante, and his stalwart advisor through storms of court and sea alike. She had given birth—a beautiful, dusky-eyed child named “Mikael.” His name. The gesture struck him with more weight than he expected. Joy, yes, but also a pang of something he hadn’t admitted aloud. Time had moved, even when he hadn’t. Friends became parents, and he remained a voyager—married to the tide, with no hearth of his own to return to. He had held the child in his arms and wondered quietly, When will it be my turn? Or, perhaps more honestly, Will it ever be?

The second reason was the King. His oldest friend, his brother in all but blood, had sent for him—personally. A quiet summons, laced with warmth and purpose. The matter? A wife. A potential match, at last, with both the King's blessing and encouragement. There had been interviews, formalities, conversations under the carved rafters of the royal court. He had helped Caspian find his second wife, successful.

Luca clasped him on the shoulder with a wry smile. Mila gave him a letter, tied in a green ribbon—always wordless, always thoughtful. Aurora, radiant in the morning light, offered him a farewell that lingered in her gaze longer than in her words. He bowed low, as was proper, but allowed himself one last look before turning away.

Michael’s boot hit the gangplank, hand tightening on the railing of The Vagrant Star, when her voice broke the hush of the harbor.

“Michael. Please… wait.”

He turned. Slowly. The morning fog was thinning now, pale light stretching across the bay, casting her in gold and shadow.

Princess Aurora stood alone. Luca and Mila had discreetly stepped aside—whether out of courtesy or understanding, he couldn’t tell. Her expression was raw, no longer composed, the court mask abandoned in favor of something far more human. Fear, and something else. Remorse.

She walked up to him, closer than royalty ever should to a man like him.

“Paraiso hasn’t stopped searching,” she said in a rush, her breath hitching. “He still wants me back—wants to bury what I escaped. What I did. You know what he’s capable of, and I... I can’t be found. Not yet.”

That should’ve been enough. But her hand caught his sleeve.

“There’s more.”

Her voice cracked.

“I know what I took from you.”

Silence stretched between them, heavy as the tide.

His face didn’t change. Not much. Only his eyes, dark and sea-worn, flickered.

“I never meant for you to pay my debt. I only wanted to be free. And I used you to buy that freedom.”

Michael studied her for a long time. Long enough for her breath to catch again, long enough for her to break the silence herself.

“I just needed you to know. And if... if one day, you can find it in you to forgive me...”

He reached up, gently removing her hand from his sleeve.

Michael met her eyes.

And then, with the same brutal calm he used to command storms and silence mutinies, he said:

“No.”

She blinked.

“I will never forgive you, Aurora. Whatever you’re talking about... whatever you did—I don’t want your apology. I want it to haunt you. Because that’s what justice feels like when it’s too late.”

Her face paled, but he wasn’t finished.

“That’s the difference between you and Caspian. He faced his demons. He owned what he did, no matter how wretched. You? You play the part of a victim while cloaking yourself in innocence.”

His voice dropped, sharp as a blade.

“And whatever crimes you committed... may they never leave you in peace. May they scratch at your soul long after you’ve stopped running.”

Aurora’s lip trembled. A single tear slipped down her cheek. Still, Michael continued.

“I personally looked into what happened with Henry. I know the truth.”

Her breath hitched—but he didn’t let her speak.

“And I pray Charles never finds you. Not out of mercy. But because the man I once was... would still try to protect you.”

He stepped back onto the gangplank, leaving her rooted to the dock.

[vivianleighwishesshewasme]

Cursed-3 sisters Peaky blinder -12

 Talks, truths and truces

Violet was aware Charlie's heavy gaze was on her while they sat on the bow of the boat slowly enjoying their lunch. They had several light and polite conversations within the slow hours. She was trying to ignore his staring but it had gone from flattering to intuitive perception quickly. She felt like an insect about to be pinned down to a white board and examined. Each section is a detailed dissection of her innermost thoughts and being. 

She shivered. Being a natural born witch she was highly intuitive and good at reading people. It was unnerving when someone could do that to her.

Charles Strong came from good rich traveler blood. He probably had a witch in the line somewhere. Most families did here. 

"Violet, look at me." He commanded. His already right voice wafted through her ears and tugged at her soul. She reluctantly turned her head and gave him a soft smile. His eyes bore into her soul. He moved the oar slightly to adjust his lean limber body to face her. 

"You are not okay. What's going on and don't you dare tell me your fine or you'll be fine. I already know you will be." His voice was firm but demanding. She sighed and rolled her eyes earning a raised eyebrow and scoff from him. "Stubborn woman." He muttered under his breath. She was looking at him. Anger, pain and aggression lurked behind her purple eyes like a predator brought back to an awakened state. 

Violet didn't want to talk. The last thing she needed was to show him her darkening deep heart. He didn't need to drown needlessly with her. 

"Look, you wont hurt me Violet. I know what it's like to lose the love of your life. I watched mine marry another man, be abused and neglected in ways you can only imagine. I allowed myself to harbor her in my heart and when she needed it my bed. I had a child I could never fully raise with her until her husband left her. I watched her depression slowly drown her until she finalized her pain. I fished her out of the same canal I take on every trip. I know the exact spot I pulled her from. I hold my breath everytime I pass it." He took  a deep breath and closed his eyes. He was feeling the pain again, allowing it to pass through him. 

Violet's eyes widened as the realization hit her. He was talking about the Shelby's mother. He had been in love with Amara Shelby and watched her demise leading up to her final act of pain. Death by her own hand. 

"You take a particular interest in Thomas. Even Sabrina says he looks up to you like a father." Violet's eyes honed in on his tired blue orbs. Thomas Michael Shelby was indeed Charlie's biological son born in forbidden love between a pain filled woman and this hardworking man. 

"What I'm trying to say is, I know a thing or two about pain. How it can slowly erode a good person and drive them crazy." His voice was lower and slower. Like he was trying to calm a crazed animal. Her heart felt caged and terrified like a bird realizing it had been caught and kept. 

Violet nodded stunned into silence. He was safe, she adored him and trusted him…so was it that she was afraid to talk about the pain of their deaths…or her feeling left behind with her sisters moving on.

"It's…confusing to me." She felt the saline prick the back of her eyes. She could feel the damp rolling around her purple orbs ready to spill out. Her heart was still raw but maybe she needed the tears to purify and heal the tender organ. There was really only one way to find out. 

"One conversation at a time, yes?" She wasn't asking permission even though it almost felt like she was, sounded like she was. He nodded. She had his attention and empathy. She sucked in a breath. 

"I'm not good at talking." She confessed. His chuckle had startled her and forced her partially offended gaze to meet his soft face. 

"You my dear are i deed great at talking, I'm convinced you probably talk in your sleep." He chuckled at his own joke. She started giggling. The tears slipped out and ran down her face with such intensity they were both caught off guard. 

" Fine, I'm a good communicator…except when it comes to sharing my fears. I feel." She paused, feeling the anxiety rising and slowly constricting in her chest like a snake coiled tight and ready to strike." 

"Take your time luv, we have a full day before we get back. You have time." He took her hand in his and squeezed. 

"I feel left behind. Like suddenly my sisters have their own lives. My life advice isn't sought anymore, I just feel….like I have no purpose. I have all this knowledge and for what? Do I teach, do I rest, do I go crazy…..I have no idea. Does it even matter anymore?" Her voice dipped with pain and Charlie's face morphed with understanding and sympathy. He wrapped her fingers around her chin firmly and forced her tear stained eyes to meet his. He looked like he'd been slapped in the heart. She knew the feeling. 

"You're too physically young to be an old Violet, you may feel that way. I promise you I understand. Any person who ages and watches the kids they made grow up will tell you it's always sudden and painful to watch them grow up and not need you anymore or as much. You might not agree with their decisions and sometimes their choices cause you pain. It doesn't mean you don't have a purpose. This time's for you to reconnect with yourself. " She really looked at him, into him and saw the wisdom in his words and the pain that had shaped him into an intelligent man. 

"What?" He looked at her. She was staring at him. 

"I knew you were smart and kind, I didn't realize how emotionally intelligent you are." She meant her words not as honeyed kindness but profoundly amazed by his words. She took his hand from her chin and kissed his palm. 

"You learn a few things, even if you don't want to as life drags you along." He smiled at her. He squeezed her hand and grabbed the oar. She hadn't realized but they were at a turning point in the canal. He helped guide the boat back to Birmingham and she couldn't help but wonder if the symbolism in that was her sign that she could process everything now and bloom on her own. 

Thomas tucked Sabrina behind him as if he was keeping her protected like a gentleman. She felt the shift in him. She'd wondered what had happened between him and Grace during the races. When she'd come to the garrison Grace almost looked worried about Sabrina, had Thomas treated her like this? A pawn in one of his dangerous schemes? 

She'd take him to task if he had and make him publicly apologize to the Irish women. 

She heard a familiar voice greet her boyfriend. He suddenly sat down and took her hand guiding her to stand beside him. She placed her hand on his shoulder. He looked up at her and gave her a soft quick reassuring smile.

It helped for a moment. Why exactly did he need her here? She was more than content to not be a part of his business deals. She felt so uncomfortable here. 

Sabrina smiled at the whiskey maker but tried not to meet his eyes. He'd been rustling around in his desk and pulled out some hand drawn papers. They looked official whatever they were for. She wondered what they pertained to and why Thomas had insisted she be here. 

"Hey, poppet. How are you?" He smiled up at her his eyes dancing with excitement.   Tommy, that's the little gypsy girl from the other night I was telling you about. Looks like she came right out of a movie screen, she does." Sabrina blushed deep and crimson at his words. She was not good at flirting or accepting flirtations.

"So you're his woman are you?" He asked her. Sabrina nodded, her heart racing, something about this man made her shut down and guard herself. He seemed polite and jovial...to her at least. Thomas seemed pleased that Alfie was so taken with her. She wasn't thrilled that her boyfriend was okay with other men finding her attractive. 

"She doesn't talk much does she?" Alfie asked the Birmingham man. Thomas chuckled and raised an eyebrow at the other man as if challenging his question. He knew otherwise.

"Cat seems to suddenly have her tongue, Alfie." Sabrina scowled at Tommy and rolled her eyes. She might be embarrassed but she wasn't going to let that slide. 

Alfie laughed. His laughter bounced off the walls and filled the space. Thomas had described him as moody, unpredictable and sullen at times. Where was that man? 

"See I knew she had to have a personality. I couldn't see you with a small quiet girl." He sat up and slid the contract towards Tommy. Sabrina smiled at the jewish man politely. She was trying to keep from being rude and glancing at the contract. 

"Me, I'd like a sweet little woman like that. She's got Tom's wife's eyes Tom. She's be making your dinner fresh and hot every night,  rocking the babies to sleep and she is loyal.You can tell by her demeanor towards you. If you ever get tired of this mean man let me know. I'd marry you poppet. House by the sea even. " His offer seemed legitimate. He sat back and crossed her hands over his stomach looking her in the eyes. He meant it. She was briefly taken aback by his boldness. Thomas was busy reading. She almost wanted to slap the back of his head. 

Alfie winked at her. Sabrina giggled as Thomas read over the contract. He looked up and raised an eyebrow glancing at both parties. He didn't look angry but she could see the jealousy seeping in. It didn't bother her. 

He was a man of quick violent actions. It was nice to see the human side coming out. 

"Right well, here's my proposition….." Thomas said firmly as he addressed the Camden town" baker".

"Where is it?!" Sera's screech of frustration had Luca refilling his whiskey glass. He thought she'd go back to some sense of normality after they had left the boat. He had been proven very wrong.

They booked a hotel suite while they spent time apartment shopping. She was like a caged animal. She was restless, crying and harder to deal with than usual. He enjoyed her passion, her scathing tongue not so much. Her most recent episode included tossing clothes trying to find the crystal ball. Her energy was like lightning: quick, hot and unpredictable. 

Luca was actively trying to avoid her but there were only so many rooms. 

He heard the sharp ringing. He tested the phone but it wasn't a normal call. He searched around the living room area and found it buried under a pillow. 

"Hello! Sera, can you hear me. Oh, hi Luca." Luca shook his head. There were a lot of mysteries surrounding Serafina DeGhant. How this piece of glass showed an image and turned into a long distance phone was one of them. 

A frustrated screech tore through the apartment. Luca shook his head and shished. He was about to call the Bronx Zoo and acquire some tranquilizers. 

 " How bad is it?" Sabrina's soft sweet voice asked cautiously. She'd lived with Serifina. She knew the depths of these episodes. She honestly looked worried. Luca wasn't sure how he felt about that.

"She's literally tearing apart the hotel's suit. I gotta find a home for her to nest in soon." He looked over his shoulder to make sure she wasn't lurking somewhere ready to hex him. " I thought the ship was bad, she screeching like a harpy." 

" Yeah, speaking from experience…go lock yourself in the bathroom, take snacks and wait for her out. If it falls eerily quiet…your safe" Luca's eye widened at the seriousness of Sabrina's often caring tone. Geez, what was he in for? 

"Good to know." He replied sarcastically.

"Can I talk to you actually?" Her request startled him. Why in the world would she want to talk to him? He technically wasn't married into the family yet. He didn't understand this witchy stuff.

"You wanna talk to me?" His voice is low and gravel filled. He felt overly cautious but his curiosity won. She was a nice girl so how bad could her question be?  "About what exactly?" 

"Oh nothing bad…I'm dating a gangster in Birmingham." Sabrina blurted out rapidly. Her breathing had increased slightly and she was flushed. Something had happened. He'd seen enough of his own women find out something or see something less desirable about his line of work and start to panic in the past. 

"I heard, I must run in the family huh?" He tried to distract her, calm her down a bit. She chuckled and blushed. He still had it. 

" I….I don't want to be a part of what is going on with his business and illegal dealings. I just want to bury my head in the sand like an ostrich…is that bad? Am I a bad partner?" He could see the guilt building in her eyes and threatening to spill over as hot tears.

"Take a break Sweetheart. Is he trying to get you involved?" Luca kept his voice soft and steady. Trying to keep her calm and focused. 

"Not necessarily…." She looked frustrated. She wasn't sure how or why she was feeling her emotions. His heart was wrenched. He hated when women cried. He looked around for his woman…she was nowhere to be seen. Maybe a mixed blessing.

"What are you trying to ask Sabrina?" He knew she'd called to talk for a reason. Not initially with him but he'd help if he could. He just needed to know the exact question. 

"I dont know." She sighed and bit her lip. " I guess I'm not sure how I can take his stress off, how good I am to him or if my witch powers will be of much use." She was doubting herself and her role in his life. Luca knew a good woman was a massive part in a gangster's success and a longer life. 

"If he's with you for your power, he ain't gonna treat you right princess. Dump him and find a nice Italian across the canal." He tried hiding his smirk. Her head shot up but she was focused now. Just like he wanted. 

" I just…I don't have a place. I cook, I help his Aunt keep the house and I sell my spells and such I just…" She wasn't sure she was important. He should be telling her that but Luca knew British men could be oblivious to emotions. 

"You and Serafina are very modern women, you know that. I don't know who this guy is…but if he loves you and he's from the same time I am…he appreciates knowing you are safe at home and waiting for him. Our life is hard Sabrina, not just for us but the strong women we choose to share it with. It ain't for the faint of heart but knowing some stuff about you DeGhant's…you got what it takes." He meant it. He knew that having a strong, safe and loyal woman at home was the balm to a shitty day. Especially if a good man died next to you or because of you. It was a massive need.

"I see how you were able to ground Serafina. You're a smart and sweet Luca." Sabrina's compliment puffed him up a bit. It was nice to see he was appreciated by his lady loves family. 

"I'm italian." He said tongue in cheek. He winked at the crystal ball causing them both to laugh. She looked lighter now. Sounded better too. 

Sera stood silently by the door frame watching the exchange between the love of her life and her baby sister. She had no idea he had such a sweet insightful calming side to him.  She was more willing now to try to give him a child. 

"Thanks Luca." Sabrina's sweet voice filled the room.

"Your sister appears to be calm now." He commented on not hearing her rage anymore. 

"I'm good now. Thank you for taking my call. Go. Take her out to eat and tell her she's beautiful." Sabrina's advice would be perfect if he already wasn't the perfect partner to her sister and adaptive to her needs. 

"Everynight." He smiled. "She deserves to be spoiled and treated like a queen. I know how good I got it." He grins at her little sister as she aww'd. The ball went blank and he sighed, shaking his head. These women would be the death of him.

Movement caught his eye to the left of him. He turned and raked his eyes slowly and appreciatively over her scantily clad form. Her long black hair was down and her slip had a slit right up to the top  of her thigh. He loved it when she looked seductive, dangerous and confident in her sexuality. He was a lucky man.

"What? He asks Sera. He extended his hand handing her the glass orb. She smiled and tossed it to the side. She looked ready to fuck. 

"That was pretty sound advice there Mr. Changretta. Makes me realize that you could probably handle children a lot better than I can." She purred and slowly stalked toward him. He smirked and rubbed his lips. Definitely turned on now. 

" You wanna practice making them then?" he offered as he grabbed her by the hips and pulled her flush to his lilith form.  

She laughed and grabbed him by the collar roughly forcing his face dangerously close to her lush red lips "I always enjoy the practice." 

[zippiestdraws]

Choking Curiosity Ch 18

Michael Myers x ftm reader

Read on ao3

Laurie picks up on the last ring sounding out of breath.

You frown towards the phone. “You good?”

“Yeah, I just had to run up the stairs to reach the phone.” She breathes out. “So, you want to talk about yesterday?”

It’s less of a question and more of an expectancy with a verbal cringe.

“Mhm” you grimace, remembering. “Was he always like that? Because I can’t imagine you wanted to work with someone so…”

You blank on the descriptor. Perky. Flirtatious. Touchy.

“-Pushy.”

You can hear Laurie’s twitch over the phone “Ugh, He wasn’t like that when we met. He actually sounded smart, like an investigative reporter, ya know?”

“Yeah, I didn’t think you’d send him over if he was creepy.”

“What do you mean?”

“He came over while I was decorating outside a couple days ago and said you sent him, for like, an interview and stuff.” You gently remind her.

“I didn’t do that.” Her tone was grim, but your brain quickly rationalizes it for you.

“Well, it’s not like he couldn’tve just found the house on his own after talking to you, so it’s not that bad.” It wasn’t great either, but it’s easy to accept.

There’s a pause before Laurie responds.

“Hmm, maybe, but I still don’t like how he treats this like a game.”

You open your mouth to reply but she cuts you off in a fury.

“-use you as bait? Is he crazy?-”

“-Yeah, I didn’t like that very much. I mean, how does he expect me to-” you interject but then look around and speak softer like someone might hear. “Get a picture with his mask off?”

“Exactly. The shape wouldn’t take its mask off if it was on fire.” She sounded annoyed and angry, so you’re glad she couldn’t see the reaction on your face.

You draw a blank on what you were going to say next as the weight of her words hit you. The image of Michael’s face under the mask floats into your mind followed by a seeping guilt. The heat of attraction and shame burns across your cheeks as you spit something out to keep the conversation flowing.

“Do you- do you think we could pull it off?”, before you even finish your sentence you’re shaking your head and clarifying yourself with a stutter. “I mean, like physically take it- the mask- off, but I guess it could be the same thing if we could get away with it at all? anyway…”.

“Geez, you need to take a breath. But…I know how you feel. How scary the idea of seeing him again is after what he’s done to you.” Her jesting tone softening with empathy.

“I’m not going to let anything happen to you.” The resoluteness of her statement is jarring, and you agree almost too quickly.

“I know. I mean- I trust you and I could always get a taser, so…” you end with an awkward laugh.

You already know that you aren’t in any danger. Or at least much danger.

Laurie makes a disapproving noise at your confidence but doesn’t say anything further. You suspect that she wants to quip about a taser not working against the shape, but holding back so as not to scare you. Thinking back, if he can stop a bat with his bare hands and survive gunshot wounds, you don’t think a taser would stop him either.

You have to excuse yourself to get ready for work later, but with a promise to get together at some point. Just the two of you, no Jed.

Your hands pull at your hair. It sucks to have to deceive Laurie, but now it feels like betraying Michael. Talk about a rock and a hard place.

He wouldn’t take his mask off if he was on fire. But he took it off for you.

Your shift ends after the library closes, but you put the books you borrowed in your bag to return through the book drop. Michael’s room is a mess and you find the one you gave him underneath the blankets where he sleeps, luckily not too worse for wear.

He isn’t home, so you don’t know how he’d react to you touching his things, but a small fantasy plays in the back of your head as you step out the door to work.

You can’t help it- living together is intimate and every so often your mind will wander to that tight black t-shirt and soft pink lips. And your hands will wander when you hear Michael’s soft groans under the shower spray…

The nippy weather is enough of an excuse to shield your flushed face with your hands by the time you arrive for work.

***

A steady stream of shoppers keeps you and Quentin pinned to the registers while Dwight makes the rounds and maintains stock. By the looks of it, Halloween is still on, considering nearly every customer has snagged one of the bulk candy packs from the sale section.

Out of the corner of your eye you see a child run towards the candy aisle.

“Oh-hey no running!-'' your words don’t land. You, Quentin, and the child’s parent watch as the child runs gracelessly into the M&M's display. The child hits the ground first, followed by the crash of cardboard and chocolate 3 long seconds later. After the kid notices everyone watching, they begin to cry.

Dwight, appearing at the other end of the aisle, simply sighs and heads toward the broom closet.

Finishing the last transaction at your checkout and flipping your light off, you nod to Quentin-the two of you have an almost nonverbal understanding at this point- and start performing first aid on the cardboard M&M man.

Dwight returns with a broom and dustpan and scoops a split bag of loose candy into it, before stacking up the intact ones to pile onto a spare shelf.

As you work, Dwight looks in your direction once before making some conversation.

“Oh, by the way, you left early from the cookout…”, he states rather neutrally.

You sweat, it had just seemed like time enough had passed that it wouldn’t be brought up.

“yeah, sorry about that, I was a little nervous to drive home after it got dark. I got lost a couple times trying to find the place.” you’re glad he isn’t looking you in the eyes. Had he seen?

“No wait, sorry, I mean-”, he apologizes in return, “I wasn’t trying to make you feel bad, I was going to ask cuz you missed it, David wants to throw a halloween party. Do you want to come?” Dwight stands and wipes his hands on his kakis.

You chuckle in relief, thinking of David, “you didn’t seem like the halloween type, but I’d love to. Where and when?” Laurie’s plan flashes in your mind after you reply, so you quickly tack on that you can’t make it on the 31st.

“I’m not! I had to have David promise not to jump out at me.” he looks exasperated. “Same place, on the 30th. Don’t worry, I have to work until six on Halloween, so I’m not going out either.”

He promises to tell you the time for it when he figures it out himself, and you head back up to the registers.

You stop, confused for a moment, when you see that there isn’t anyone up there. More specifically, Quentin isn’t at the register, but there’s only one person who seems to be waiting.

“Sorry about that, I hope we didn’t keep you wait-”

Brown curls, square glasses, beanie, smug looking face.

“Hmm~ hey (Y/n), fancy meeting you here.” Jed looks at you like you were exactly what he was waiting for.

“Yeah, hi…”, you log into the register to look anywhere but him, “I didn’t know you lived in the area.”

“Oh you know, I just had to pick up some stuff to get ready for the holiday, that’s all.” You look at his items. Bulk assorted candy, duct tape, trash bags, bleach. You swallow thickly.

“Now that I have you, is there any chance you’ve had a change of heart? I know you probably think you’re safe, but you never know what could happen.” He leans on the counter with his forearms and looks up at you with a pout as you finish the transaction. “I’m here to help you, (Y/n), but you act like you have some huge secret you’re keeping.”

You’re thankful that another customer enters your line and you don’t have much room for more than a ‘see you later’.

You finish your shift with a cold anxiety in the pit of your stomach and don’t look at Quentin whenever he returns.

*** Hugging your jacket close and looking behind you often, home doesn’t run up to greet you as fast as it should. Crossing the threshold suddenly drops the exhaustion of the day on your shoulders and you trudge up the stairs, wanting out of your work clothes an hour ago.

It takes a second to register in your brain, the sight of your bedroom door wide open with Michael in the middle of the room. Caught red handed (though, not literally) with his hands in your underwear drawer.

[zahri-melitor]

DC Universe Holiday Special #1 (2008)

Another of my favourite Christmas Specials.

The Man In Red – Santa Claus. An origin story for Santa Claus, modelled on Clark’s histoy. (Hits all the beats of a Last Son of Krypton recounting)

Somewhere Beyond the Sea – Aquaman! You know who I haven’t seen in any of the compilations yet? Arthur! We’ve had Garth, but no Arthur. In any case this is uh quite a story. Arthur rescues a couple lost at sea in a boat, the woman extremely pregnant. He's guided to shore by his father's lighthouse...only to realise it was a star behind the lighthouse, not the lighthouse itself. When the couple gets ashore they're met by two men 'dressed like kings' (this is the point when I groaned). Yes, Arthur's the third Magi/Wise Man here.

Instinctively, willingly, I join them and knee before her and her unborn child. I look at the other men, who came bearing gifts. I feel ashamed because... "I'm sorry. I have no gifts to give." "No, Sea King, you gave me the most important gift of all." They walk away. I know I will never see her again, never meet her child, I should feel empty, but this is the most special of nights. I fight every urge to join them. Instead I make my way to my one true home, the sea.

Good King Wenceslas – this is a Paul Dini and Dustin Nguyen team, if you need selling on it. It's just the main verses of the Christmas Carol, but it's done as an Elseworlds where the King is the Bat and the Page is a Robin (The peasant is Alfred).

A Day Without Sirens – Commissioner Gordon, Batman, Oracle. The premise is the city bands together for a day without the need for emergency calls or police intervention. Jim gets a little bit of hope (Oracle actually diverted the phones for a day and had Supergirl doing all the work, as a Christmas present for her dad).

Reminiscent of and in conversation with The Silent Night of the Batman from Batman #219.

It’s a Wonderful Night – Nightwing and Robin. This one I know inside and out. Tim goes to a Christmas Eve showing of It’s a Wonderful Life because it was Jack’s favourite Christmas movie. He runs into Owen Mercer there for the same reason, which makes things awkward as their dads killed each other. Dick, who’s been looking for Tim, arrives and gives Tim his Christmas present: one of Dick’s original costumes, a gift that he manages to sneak in RIGHT under the deadline of oncoming events, as Battle for the Cowl starts only three months later.

Christmas With The Beetles – Blue Beetle. The story of four generations of a criminal family and breaking the cycle, through the lens of three generations of Blue Beetle. (It's sweet. It's exactly the sort of ethos I love to see in a Blue Beetle story).

An Angel Told Me – Huntress. 'Teacher!Helena and her students'. In this one Helena lends a hand to one of her students, Alejandro, who is about to be suspended for bullying and who has an abusive homelife. She gets the kid's father locked up for drug possession and illegal firearms, so he'll be placed in care with his grandmother, and gets his suspension transferred to helping her with the 'Reach' program, which is community assistance for disabled students. (The depiction of autism in this is very stereotyped, and it's clearly not the ONLY disability in play)

The Night Before Christmas – Teen Titans. They all go to a Christmas market.

Jaime and Traci are an adorable couple in this.

But the meat of the story is Cassie and Tim, who are both more settled now, after One Year Later has finally fully spooled out, and able to talk about their losses.

(Also I've always adored the art and colour in this story, which is by Michael Dimotta and of a style you really don't see in superhero comics much)

Party Animal – JLA. John Stewart and Roy Harper capture Shaggyman right during the start of the JLA holiday party. Vixen, who's organising it, orders them both up there asap so the two decide to bring Shaggy along.

It's very much an office party.

Let There Be Light – Doctor Light. This is basically a character history piece of Kimiyo Hoshi for people unfamiliar with her backstory and motivations. The villain fight she's in knocks out the Metropolis power grid, so Doctor Light turns it back on.

[bitletsanddrabbles]

WIP What The Hell...

I've several pieces for the Poly!Verse that are basically just me exploring various background things and are probably going to wind up on the scrap heap as a result. No plot. No climax. No resolution. No interest, really. But there's a scene or two I actually like, so I might stick them here for posterity.

This is one of them. If I ever do decide to do something with it, it's going to need a lot more research, but for now...eh, why not? Have a thing.

BTW, if anyone looks over my collected works and reaches the conclusion I've no real use for tabloids...that is accurate. If it didn't run in the World Weekly News, I was not interested. Give me Bat Boy!

-

“But it turns out he doesn’t have three boyfriends, he only has one. It’s his boyfriend who has three boyfriends,” Michelle was griping to David when Sam walked into the break room.

“That is the wrong conversation to walk into the middle of,” Sam noted, crossing the room to the coffee machine. There were days he regretted taking a job in A&E rather than getting himself a nice private practice in a surgery someplace. Even if you weren’t directly dealing with the screaming child who’d broken their foot, the sound carried. Hopefully a cup of coffee and a bit of food would be enough to cure the headache.

David laughed. “Michelle was just complaining that her tabloid had a misleading headline, if you can imagine such a thing.”

“You mean tabloids aren’t the pinnacle of honest journalism?” Sam asked, reaching into the cupboard for a clean mug. He shoved it in place, popped one of the capsules into the machine, and hit the button. “You’ve destroyed my faith in the system right there.”

“Hah hah you two,” the radiologist rolled her eyes. “I’m just saying they could have come up with a better headline, that’s all. ‘Guy Dexter Announces Poly Relationship’ has just as much shock value as ‘Guy Dexter Reveals He Has Three Boyfriends’.”

Sam had to admit, she had a point, not that he particularly cared. He didn’t have much use for the tabloids, or for Guy Dexter, although he’d heard the man was going to be in the latest Agatha Christie adaption. He liked mysteries. “How many bets the next headline is ‘Guy Dexter Contracts Nasty, Possibly Terminal S.T.I.’?”

David gave him an unimpressed look. “Way to be progressive, Dr. Barrow.”

“You were the one just criticizing the tabloid’s accuracy, Dr. Fletcher,” Sam countered.

“Eh, okay, you got me there.”

“I admit, I never understood why they’re so fond of announcing people are dying and only have two months to live. Do they think readers won’t notice when, two months later, the person is still alive and kicking?” Michelle flipped through her magazine, frowning a little. “I mean, the Queen and Camilla both started dying of cancer in what? 2002?”

“Pretty sure that started in the ‘90s,” David snorted. He then leaned in and looked over Michelle’s shoulder at the page in front of her. He frowned. “Hey, Sam? What was your little brother’s name again?”

“Michael, why?”

“Just curious,” the nurse asked. “Mr. Dexter’s fellow has the same last name as you. You know, the one with three boyfriends.”

Sam rolled his eyes and, waiting just long enough for be sure there were no drips left, lifted the coffee cup to his lips. “Not bloody likely. Mike would probably jump off a bridge if he thought three guys were even interested in him.” He couldn’t imagine Mike even knowing about poly relationships, honestly. The younger man was a chip off of their father’s close minded block. “And Barrow is a common enough last name.”

“This guy sort of looks like you, though,” Michelle admitted, frowning at the page. “Maybe a cousin or something? I don’t know, do you have any relations at all named Thomas?”

Sam about spit his coffee across the room, to the surprise and alarm of the other two. “Thomas?” he sputtered. He then slammed the cup down on the counter and crossed the room in three long strides, hand held out for the magazine. “Let me see that.”

Michelle mutely handed over the tabloid, her expression shell shocked.

Without quite meaning to, Sam snatched it out of her hand and stared at the picture they’d been looking at. It was like looking into a mirror, only his reflection styled his hair differently and had his mother’s pale, blue grey eyes instead of the brown the rest of the family had inherited. It felt like he’d stepped into an episode of Dr. Who or something…not that he actually watched that, but it seemed like half the rest of the staff did.

The other two exchanged looked, then David cleared his throat. “I, ah, take it he is a cousin?”

Sam shook his head. “He’s my brother. The older one.” He gave a shaky little laugh. “I haven’t seen or heard from him since he left home. It was on his sixteenth birthday. We didn’t even bother getting presents or having cake, he just… I woke up and he was walking down the road to the bus.” He closed the tabloid and looked at the cover. The picture there just had Guy Dexter’s face, with three silhouettes in boxes around it, each with a question mark over it’s face. Michelle was right, it was a horrible presentation for that story. “Now this…”

“Damn,” David eyed him, clearly uncertain how to react. “That’s…well, that’s one way to find out he’s alright, I suppose?”

“Yeah.” Sam opened to the photo with Thomas again. Did Margaret and Mike know? Did his parents? If not, they were bound to find out eventually, with news this big. “Well, that’ll finish Dad off.”

[singingshutin]

Islands: Sunset

alex feels alive again.

Read on ao3 or down below!

The first day after the island came and went like a scene from an old movie: grainy, muted color streaked across the landscape, blurring together in a runny watercolor palette of rain and mud and quiet Sunday stillness. No sun peeked through the clouds—the only hint of the passage of time was the fade of the cold, hazy light into pressing darkness. Even the house lights felt heavy on her skin, casting a grim yellow spell across the distant dinner table conversation. Yes, Mr. Wright, no, Mr. Wright, she didn’t know, Mr. Wright. Her mom was happy, Mr. Wright, and that’s all that really mattered, wasn't it, Mr. Wright?

Sleep, school, dinner, sleep again: three more days passed, the sky heavy with unrelenting rainy malaise. Alex went about her business, a single ant falling in line with eight billion others, all in a mindless march toward a state of normalcy that she wasn’t sure was ever going to come. None of it felt real—not classes, not homework, not even Alex herself.

It was a Thursday evening: her mother was working late again, and Jonas’ dad had run out of milk halfway through cooking—something. The look on Jonas’ face told Alex it was probably better not to get her hopes up. Not like she was hungry, anyway. Being unreal wasn't conducive to developing an appetite.

“We’ll be back soon, Dad,” Jonas folded himself into his green jacket. “Just milk, right? Nothing else?”

“I’ll text if I think of anything,” Mr. Wright smiled through steam-fogged glasses. Whatever he was stirring glopped unappetizingly in the saucepan. “Thanks, Jo-Jo.”

“Yeah, no problem.” Jonas herded Alex out the door with an embarrassed huff.

“Be safe! Be good-”

Jonas shut the door.

Alex pulled Michael’s jacket tighter around her arms, wrinkling her nose at the nippy autumn air. Red and yellow summer trees blurred together in the cold, cloudy light, washed out and stark against the backdrop of green-black pines and grey sky.

Jonas gestured down the sidewalk. “After you,” he said.

Alex obliged.

Perhaps, to an outsider, the silence between the step-siblings making their way down the road would have looked awkward. Uncomfortable. Resentful, even. Michael’s kid sister, bright and quick and smart, and a boy branded by the law—tied together by the thin, thin thread of their parent's remarriage.

Absolutely nothing could be further from the truth.

Alex was older than time. She’d watched the universe explode into being a million times, and watched it fizzle out a billion more. She’d seen countless lives, sailing across the churning seas of time and space like tiny ships—some sticking together in tight fleets, others breaking off and disappearing over the horizon all alone. Each time it was different, pasts, presents, and futures all converging and diverging in endless different ways simultaneously.

But for all that, for all the eons she’d existed—she was still only seventeen. Seventeen and infinity at the same time, all tangled up inside her, whirling in a frantic loop of never-ceasing contradictions. She had seen possibilities on possibilities that could have, would have, should have happened. She knew every single way the earth would end, every single way humanity would go down with Terra’s sinking ship, every single way it could live on among the stars—and yet she had no idea what was for dinner tomorrow.

And that was painfully lonely.

Jonas had believed her. Every single time, every single loop, he believed her when she told him “we’ve done this all before.” He always tried to flip the breaker switch, always fussed at her reckless leaps across the island cliffs, always cracked the same bad jokes. He was always there, and when he wasn’t, he always found his way back.

He was always her brother.

And for Alex, that was enough.

"You doing alright?"

Alex looked up. Jonas was next to her now, his eyebrows knitted together in a concerned frown. "You've been really quiet since…well—you know." He gave his beanie a quick, awkward tug. "Since we got back.”

Ah, yes. Hell.

“I—hah,” Alex cut herself off with a sigh, folding her arms in a tight knot, squeezing herself against the foggy undertow of swirled-up feelings. “I don’t know yet. I’m…thinking. I think. Processing? I don’t know.” She tilted her head towards him. “And you?”

Jonas looked down, treating the asphalt passing beneath their boots to a humorless smirk. “I was kind of hoping you’d have an answer so I could figure out how I feel.” 

Alex bumped her shoulder gently against the sleeve of his jacket. “We’re on the same team, then, bud.” 

“Bud?” Jonas pulled a face at her. “Who are you, my dad?”

“Champ,” Alex shot back, unable to stop the smile creeping onto her lips. “Kiddo. Big guy.”

“Little sis,” he retorted.

Alex faked a gag. “No one really says that.”

“I could start.” Jonas’ threat didn’t hold much weight when compared to the wide spread of his lopsided grin.

“Fine.” Alex tossed her hair over her shoulder. “But I get to call you Jo-Jo.”

What little Alex could see of Jonas’ ears flushed beet red. “Ugh,” he groaned, “I give up, I give up. You win.”

“Dork.” Alex flashed him a grin of her own.

***

The fog of unease had gathered over Alex’s mind once again by the time they reached the corner shop, and the old feeling of unreality was slowly creeping its way back into her body. The sensation was both blurry and stark: her feet didn’t feel like her own as she floated up and down the narrow aisles under the deafening hum of the fluorescent lights. She could barely feel the chill of the cooler on her skin as she picked out a gallon of milk at random—a bright blue cap, she noticed, the pebbled plastic of the bottle an alien texture on her fingers as Jonas slid it from her grasp—and she hardly registered the cashier’s voice as she handed over a crumpled bill gone soft with time. The register dinged and slid open with a mechanical click. Cold metal clinked into her palm, and she closed her fingers over the smooth coins. Huh—what little remained of her dark nail polish was chipped and peeling…

Back out into the open air they went, the hiss of the automatic doors accentuated by the thick smell of tar and the heavy glow of the street lights against the darkening blue of the sky. Blue as the cap on the milk jug.

A forgotten something stirred in Alex’s chest.

“Clouds’re gone,” Jonas remarked. The thin plastic grocery bag hanging from his arm rustled with the movement of his long, slow stride.

Alex nodded.

“Wonder if we’ll see the sunset tonight.”

The something in Alex’s chest clenched.

“Sunsets in North Valley were always, like, this weird muddy yellow, I—hey, where are you going?”

Alex’s feet were moving on their own, shooting off the side of the road in a flailing sprint. Blood thrummed through her veins as she flew up the nearest knoll, wind rushing across her eardrums, drowning out Jonas’ shouts behind her. Grass and weeds and wildflowers all fell before her boots, the sharp, clean scent of green flooding her head in an intoxicating rush: faster, faster, faster, she had to see, she had to see it—

She skidded to a stop.

Red and yellow and orange and purple: the most vibrant flames she had ever seen licked at the bottle-cap blue sky, wreathing the dazzling golden sun in a crown of paradise. The tiny corner store—before so plain, so sleepy, so everyday and grey—lay beneath the face of the heavens like a pendant, windows gleaming like rubies and diamonds set in silver. Bright and hot and heavy, the whole scene dripped with scintillating splendor, the thick oil paints of nature running down and mingling in brilliant rainbow smears that she could see, that she could taste, that she could hear, that she could breathe—

“Hey—! Ho—holy shit—” Jonas’ voice wheezed up behind her. “What the Hell—”

Alex whirled with a shout of laughter that echoed off the trees. “Just look at it, Jonas!”

He swallowed, eyes fixed on the sky over her shoulder. “...whoa.”

“Don’t you feel alive?” Alex whirled around him in a wild dance, her chest heaving in something between a breathless laugh and a happy sob.

“It’s—wow, uh—” he took a shaky breath. “Holy—damn, it’s—”

“Yes,” Alex crowed in triumph, spinning into his chest with a thud, wrapping her arms around him as tightly as she could, squeezing him like her life depended on it. “It’s all that and a bag of chips!”

“Careful—” he wheezed, catching himself from a stumble, “you’ll knock us down the hill—”

Alex laughed. “God, I feel drunk.” She buried her face in Jonas’ shirt.

Jonas chuckled at that. Alex drank in the sound—oh, so, delightfully Jonas—raspy and dry and low, laced with a light cough and accented by a gravelly huff. It was warm and soft and familiar: just like the time-worn fabric of his jacket clutched in her hands and the wrinkles of his shirt pressed against her nose.

“Everything’s gonna be okay,” she whispered.

“Yeah,” he agreed.

“We’re gonna be okay.”

“Yeah.” Jonas folded her into an all-encompassing hug. “We are.”

And—you know what? In the end, Mr. Wright’s weird casserole-soup-thing was the best meal Alex had ever eaten.

[away-ward]

Hey, replying to that love language conversation, i definitely believe that emmy's are: physical touch, quality time, acts of service, and maybe words of affirmation. My opinion of quality time is pretty much the same with the both of you so i dont really have much to add to that.

As for physical touch, Emmy is definitely someone who loves to be touched: from the hug in the pool, the kisses, loving gestures, and sex she watched others doing since high school (school hallway, bus scene, etc.) to the train scene. And yes, she never shown much aversion to physical threats even after all the weird threats she got from aydin and taylor at the start of the book, she just felt like she needed to run away because she was scared of being alone there, kidnapped, stranded, and might die from the climate or by the hands of the people around her at that time. Aydin and emmy bonded not only through shared experience, but also physical touch, from the moment they met, the lilith scene, her wearing his clothes, her being casually touched by aydin when she watched will shower (even with no romantic undertones), i dont remember her being weirded out about it at all, only rolling her eyes at his words lmao, even if she knew he might not be good from the start (Imagine alex watching this from a peephole, emmy being touched by aydin so much like she was kissed, hugged, in his lap, in his bed, in his clothes, fed her strawberries, he ate her handmade brownies, had private conversations with Em, and Emmy always said she heard noises in the wall and they always happen to be whenever Emmy was near aydin or with aydin's stuffs lmao, i dont think this was talked enough! Aydin and emmy just hit it off well and weirdly from the start, as opposed to alex who didnt even get to touch him even after everything betwen them, so no wonder Alex was jealous of Emmy in the train because Alex's pov must be like emmy's with Will/Alex. Worse is when she watched how aydin could get along well with Emmy right off the bat, but never even gave two fucks about his ex-fiance, less than a week. This puts a much clearer perspective of Alex's pov in the train tbh).

The same goes when micah was washing her hair and carry her away from michael in the train, or when rory and micah was sleeping beside her in the train, or when michael, rika and alex was guiding her in that chase-and-run, or even when taylor was jerking off with her panties. When she saw danger, it doesnt weird her out physically like banks did, Emmy just sensed danger and runs away or fights when she can, but then banks only felt like that because of her fucked up relationships with Damon, Natalya, Gabriel, her biological mom (who's a shitty prostitute, opposite to Alex's character) and all the useless women and men she grew up with in that Torrance manor. Banks had serious issues of being touched, except by Lev and David, who had been her guards for a long time. Oh yeah, speaking of Lev and David, didn't Emmy walked naked with a rope around her neck, and guided by Lev and David to her cubicle, with post-sex look i bet?!!! I almost forgot that scene. And when she met the girls again, her only auestion in her head was "is there gonna be consequences?", not any kind of shame about taboo sex or physical nude with others like winter had, lmao. Emmy didnt even have any problems slapping alex's breasts too when she found out about her in blackchurch, or when alex was casually touching her, or walking around naked around strangers, or remember when damon touched her multiple times in the past (without any romantic or secual undertones), be it in the first shower scene, or the second shower scene and she wasnt repulsed to touch? So yeah, physical touch is definitely not a problem for her, AT ALL, in fact, might be her number one way of connecting to others. Not ony she like to be kissed, she also loves to touch and kiss others, even in innocent ways, like with Madden and Ivar in the epilogue.

As for acts of service, some of hers didnt need physical touch but some can turn from physical to acts; when micah and rory cared for her in blackchurch and train, then she appreciated them very much by caring for them and making them food, then actually wishing them to say longer by her side, when damon gave her the key to the carfax room, and built her a gazebo and she was so touched she teared up, when Will gave her that godzilla plushy and snack bar because he knew she loved the movie and was fasting that day and got a gist of her religious practise (judaism) and it wasnt even a religion that the majority of the thunder bay believed in (christianity), so not only did she had to fast alone, she could only go pray in meridian city's synagogues with her family on weekends, as compared to thunder bay itself having the church as one of the many historical building of the area, so Will himself had to do his own research about it without much help from anyone. And probably some others that i dont remember. Maybe it also stems from her not always being loved through acts of service freely and not being weaponised as a "debt" against her because of the way Martin "loved" her, but it made it even more memorable to read these scenes on page, because when we were shown how she reacted to them and how much these acts impacted her, we saw her being quite positive and appreciative of them, as opposed to words of affirmation.

Now, on one hand, I put words of affirmation the last because i dont really agree with anon about this one. I think someone who has gone through so much betrayal from her "supposed" loved one, as well as someone as logical and rational as emmy, she would not care much about words by mouth rather than actions by hands; she got over a lot of things that was said to her, but not things that were DONE TO HER. When Will said good or mean things, she didnt fully believe him, but when she ACTUALLY saw Will DOING said things, only then she outwardly intensely reacted. Examples: Will looking happy with pretty rich girls at school--Emmy had to skip classes, Will burning the gazebo--Emmy believed that he hated her so one of the many reasons she never came back was because she thought he deserves and NEEDS someone better, Will smiling while hugging alex and sleeping in the same bed together when Emmy herself never saw him smile anymore or never slept in the same bed with him--Emmy feeling so sad about the whole situation and wanting to run away because she cant watch him be happy with someone else (same with rika's thought process about michael's reaction to her infertility in conclave, ironically), Will confronting emmy and damon in the locker room--Emmy cried while trying to vaguely explain about the situation, when she watched how much will deteriorated in the questioning room + martin's threats--Emmy was so sad and angry she nearly wanted to kill martin in a LITERAL police's workplace.

On the other hand, many of her hesitation to be with will was BECAUSE his words didnt match his actions, like when he said he "loved" her but his actions were aggressive and cage-y (almost similar with Martin's), when he said she was the only one but then he went to flirt and sleep around with anyone in a skirt, then fucked around with Emmy's mind afterwards, and even threatens her to be with other girls when she rejected him, instead of using that rejection to correct his methods by showing his feeling's sincerety through actions (and we saw how he regretted this later), when he said he cared about her and will kill anyone for her but did not check up on her health and safety ever again afterwards and AGAIN regretted not doing so for the next years to come, when Will said Emmy was everything but then he was absent from her life for nearly 10 years, and wasnt even there for her even knowing she was always alone, wasnt as privileged as he was to access expensive caring needs (education, oldfolks house, housing, job opportunities etc.), and could be in potential danger! His words were not always equals to his actions. They just dont match up (a big factor was because he was ashamed of his failures and kept on destroying himself, BUT STILL), and thats why I dont always fault emmy for everything, because as much as emmy had her push-and-pull-bitchy moments, Will was NEVER painted as a kind hero, or a reliable romantic interest.

This was probably also one of many reasons why Emmy cannot accept Will's love then, because Martin did similar things like Will, but WAY WAY WAY WORSE. She saw Martin's patterns' of contradiction in Will's and the contradictory of words not matching with actions was only one of the many reasons why she held back her want to trust Will. And that's the sad thing about willemmy's love languages, we saw how Will was actually the opposite of her. I remember he mentioned a couple of times how much he needed to hear her say she needed and loved him even knowing through actions that she did loved him, but not knowing she needed him (for a different reason than he though, which was not for survival, but for her own happiness) and it was mentioned several times; when he beat up martin and was expecting a call from her, when emmy unexpectedly confessed her feelings to him in blackchurch, when he locked her up in the catacombs and emmy begged him to stay, when emmy (again) unexpectedly verbally proposed to him in front of everyone, and in fire night when he asked if emmy loved him during their dance etc. Will's the kind that needs words to reassure him, before he can believe that he can and would do something, thats why his Grandpa was his main support system and damon's manipulation hits him so hard. "You were a lie, she was a lie". When Damon talked down to Will about how much Emmy will never choose him at that bonfire, because he said Will was shallow and all, instead of uplifting him to be the kind of person Will always wished to be: more and better, just because his personality fits Damon's selfish needs and narrative at that point (even though we understood where damon came from, it only gives context, not excuses for his words and actions), and then Will just completely broke down, and who was there for him again? That's right, Damon. Just like what winter said, damon wanted to be the poison and the cure for his people, so his manipulation worked with some people, especially Will and Banks. But Did it worked on Emmy? No. Emmy cut him off right off the bat, so good for her. (Also noticed how the fandom only talked about how much sex Will/Damon had, but never mentioned that all three of them were born out of dubious consent, intoxication and manipulation? Right. Queerbaiting and MLM Fetishization. PD should go to jail for this queerbaiting, because Will didnt even want to admit that he fucked and fooled around with a man. In his mind, it was all Emmy that he gets off to. Wasnt this sexual dynamic similar to Will/Alex too? Ugh, they're all so icky, we cant even have queer moments in peace without all these baits, and then we got the whole fandom salivating over these two men as if their sexual moments weren't weird and so heteronormative. Was damon potentially queer and his sexuality could be fluid? Sure, but was will's? Nah. Will was just a voyeur to taboo sex, like Michael and Kai. + Will called damon out for always trying to sexually control and manipulate others, including him. Like damon would even fuck michael and kai if they would let him, and knowing that he only did this with will because others didnt want it, watered down Will/Damon's "special" bond to me. Also, Thankfully, i never expected a good queer rep from PD, because if i did, I would be even more pissed off and aggravated by their books tbh because there were so many questionable queer moments in DN but this is a discussion for another day, and something that no one in this fandom is ever ready for).

Which was why i said willemmy's love language in the past and until the train scene were sad, because i feel like if that whole Martin-abuse thing didn't happen, i bet emmy would have probably caught onto this earlier and loved Will so good the way he wants and needs to be loved. When Will said that they were from two different worlds, i thought it wasnt just about their background and pasts, but also about their core personalities and love languages being quite different too. Sure, Will would definitely love to touch emmy (physical touch), and spend time with her (quality time), but i dont think it was as assuring as listening to emmy saying how important he was in her life. He loves to do things with emmy, but he's the kind that will asks his partner "do you love me if i'm a worm?" In the middle of an important situation, and expects a serious sincere answer from her. Might also be why when Emmy said hurtful things to will in blackchurch, alex was angry on behalf of him (still didnt grant her the permission to insert herself in willemmy's situation though) and when Will was mad at aydin because he wrongly misunderstood that aydin's words had more control in emmy's brain than his own. It escalated even more after every threatening words from aydin and intimate actions (like the feeding strawberry thing, emmy baking a brownie and making food for some other men she just met but denying Will to cook for his meal and eat at his table after everything lmao, wearing other men's clothes but never his-damon and aydin-and then poor Will had to witness emmy being kissed, hugged and touched by aydin, and saw emmy caring about aydin before the train scene. And remember when Will always remember everything emmy said (and do)? Right. No wonder he was so mad in the train. Emory was Will's girl, why was she hanging around aydin or other men so much-thats what will probably thought then. I remember PD saying that Will didnt like to share (putting asid ethe train scene) and when you look at his reactions about all these little things, he really hated sharing her. He's one of those boyfriends that will say something like "if you cant peel shrimps for yourself, then dont eat shrimps at all" to his friends that emmy tried to peel shrimps for. Got mad at aydin for cleaning her wounds! Cleaning her wounds!

Unfortunately for the both of them, time was not their biggest friend, and they both werent healthy and mature enough to figure this out earlier, so even if they got together earlier, they still would have so many misunderstandings, and those problems will just be amplified with all the hurt and miscommunication that were already going on at that time or way before that. So yeah, in the rare moments where words matter, maybe Emmy would seek words of affirmation (like will LTERALLY confessed to her on the train, and she still wanted to run away lmao), but it's definitely not her go-to love languages, but Will's the opposite, and by fire night, we saw how they've worked this one out and knows what kind of ways they love to be loved. I wished PD had shown us this instead of whatever bullshit that was the last 20% of Nightfall. Even in Fire night we just cant have them alone! The torrance's bloodlines always had to be in everyone's businesses somehow 🙄

Anyway, i love your latest fic, but a comment i'd like to add, i wish everytime you post something sad in a fic, you double up the fluff, your fluff writing is just so!!! 🥹🥰🫶 i always reread your fics just to saw more glimpses of willemmy frfr, so thank you for the boost of serotonin!

Ahh nice to see someone who knows what’s going on because I certainly don't! See, I never looked much into love languages because from what I understood, we all require all aspects of the different “languages” to have a healthy, thriving relationship, but it was trying to determine which one communicates love the best way for you, if that makes sense. So it was like, your primary method of displaying and understanding love. So to have multiple seemed redundant to me? But I really love your analysis and explanation! It’s so clear.

Regarding the physical touch, you brought out so many moments that I hadn’t touched on and it just solidifies for me that physical touch is important to emmy – and it makes sense too! She’s a builder. She works with her hand! Touch is going to be one of her most important tools for processing information, whether she realizes it or not.

This shows how much I don’t think about Alex and Aydin – I hadn’t made the connection that the times Em heard noises in the wall, it was when she was bonding with Aydin. It would be a good reason for some of Alex’s behavior. I think it went over my head because, well… aydin. But also I just assumed that Alex had made the same connection I had – everything Aydin did was all for her, so it wouldn’t have mattered if he bonded with Em in the process when she was still clearly his focus. But maybe that’s just the way I’m looking at it. Either way, it would be a good explanation for some of Alex’s jealousy and some of her other behavior.

I think you’re talking about this scene -

I hadn’t ever pictured her naked, though. In my head, she arrived on the train with clothes (not her clothes, but clothes), and they were all dressed, so it made sense to me she’d be in something too. Besides that, she mentions later that she found the overalls in Rika’s closet but she’s also wearing a black bra, so I just assumed she already had it. Not that it matters either way. It just took me a second to remember what you might have meant, lol

Acts of service and Words of Affirmation are probably going to be tough areas for her, because of the reason you mentioned. They were often mixed and crossed by the people who could cause her the most pain. So she would value actions over words. Words mean nothing if the action isn’t there to back it up. Kind actions are especially valuable to her. Even more so if they’re done quietly, without calling attention to it. That’s such a good observation on your part.

Will did talk a big game, but failed to follow through. It fed into Emmy’s doubts about him, and rightfully so. Emmy made mistakes, but I don’t think they make her a bad person. For me, it’s just easier to point out that neither one of them were perfect. They both made mistakes, and that’s what makes them such great characters to root for. I think Will’s were more serious than Em’s, for sure. I also didn’t expect him to be perfect and I don’t blame him for not being perfect. Sometimes, and again it’s probably just me, it seems like some of the readers are mad at Will for not growing up faster when he had every advantage or they’re mad at Emmy for hurting Will when he “clearly” loved her (though I agree that it wasn’t that clear to Em because his actions didn’t match his words and often it was really confusing because he’d be nice, but the second she didn’t return it he’d remind that the could find anybody to take her place. That’s what some of the die hard will stans call love? Seriously?... couldn’t be me.) And like… yeah. They both screwed up at times. But that’s why they’re so great.

I’m getting off topic again. Anywho.

You’ve got excellent points about Will’s love language too. I’ve discussed some of my HC about his family and background. It would go along with that that he was raised on kind words and never developed any reason to doubt them. Words would be enough for him. And in fact, like you said, something he’d need to hear and hear constantly. I think this would probably be truer with Emmy, considering their history. He might need to hear it more often from her. Her silence might even bother him a little bit, despite knowing he shouldn’t doubt her. It could even take her a while to learn to say it because she’s used to displaying her love through action and touch. And just like empty words mean nothing for her, touch wouldn’t be enough for him. He’s been touched so often by so many. Touching/physically affection doesn’t mean love. It’s just… touching. It feels good in the moment, but it doesn’t last. It lies.

You brought up so many good moments!

These two… they’re so much fun.

(I have noticed the Will/Damon shippers, and it doesn’t really bother me. What canon is and what we make of canon are two different things in my book. I will say, when I wrote the post about Will and Damon I was bringing out the depth of Damon’s affection for Will, and specifically thinking of their friendship, but what people use it for is besides me. I never thought of Will as bi, only desperate. And same for Damon. Desperate for different things, but desperate, nonetheless. I’m actually surprised there isn’t a bigger shipping cultural between all of the characters but maybe this is something I’m blind to since I have a singular focus. And being straight myself, I wouldn’t be qualified to say if it’s queerbaiting. I always thought their relationship was quite clear. I also never thought Will would end up with anyone but Emory – not Alex or Damon or someone else. From Corrupt, the endgame couples were pretty clear to me (except for Banks but that’s because I didn’t know she existed yet). I would even be hesitant to comment on Damon’s sexuality because I think the other Anon said it really well – he used sex to manipulate and bond. It was usually a means to an end with little meaning, until Winter.)

Which was why I said willemmy’s love language in the past and until the train scene were sad, because I feel like if that whole Martin-abuse thing didn’t happen, I bet emmy would have probably caught onto this earlier and loved Will so good the way he wants and needs to be loved.

They would have been so cute in HS if it weren’t for Martin. But now I have the scenario in my head of Will waking Em up in the middle of the night to ask her the worm questions.

And she’s all like “I’m questioning my love for you right now.”

“You serious?”

“No. go to sleep.”

“…but…babe. You do love me right?”

Like he needs to know. He needs to hear her say it. Even at three a.m.

PD said that, about will not liking to share? I feel like that contradicts a lot that in my head, but whatever.

Unfortunately for the both of them, time was not their biggest friend, and they both werent healthy and mature enough to figure this out earlier, so even if they got together earlier, they still would have so many misunderstandings, and those problems will just be amplified with all the hurt and miscommunication that were already going on at that time or way before that.

Yeah!

But the idea of emmy being one of those girl’s who’s scared to hear words of affection is also hilarious. I love it.

 Will forcing her to listen to him say I love you. Emmy crying on the inside.

I know right? Those damn torrances messing up all my willemmy moments.

Ahhhh! I’m so happy to hear you enjoyed the fic. I usually go for the sad stuff. But what can I say, I like problems. I’ll try to put out some fluffier stuff in the future.

Thank you!!

[the-wild-queen]

Albums

Chapter VI- Renegades

Chapter V Here

“Kaylah, are you okay? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

“Oh, it’s much worse than that. Michael!”

“What? What is it?”

“I think you know what. Sam, I need to talk to Michael privately, and if you listen in on our conversation, I will bust out your eardrums. I swear.”

“Okay. Fine. I won’t.”

“You better not.”

“Alright, Kaylah. What do we need to talk about?”

“I saw it, Michael. I saw what they did. I could smell the flesh and blood flying through the air. I could smell the carcasses burning. But please tell me, that you did not take part in it, or so help me God, I will stake you right here!”

“I did not commit my first kill! I swear! And how did they not see you?!”

“They were too focused on the kill at hand, thank God. Plus, I was praying. And my God is more powerful than all of the demons in hell and the devil himself combined! I was hiding in the woods. I waited until y’alls left on your bikes before I got on mine.”

“Kay Kay. Will you come tuck me in?”

“Of course, I will, Babygirl. We have got to find a way to turn you back. And kill them in the process. I’m coming, Desi.”

“Yay!”

“Kill all but two of them. Maybe even three.”

“We’ll continue this after I get Desi to bed.”

Kaylah knew what Michael meant by all but three of them. Michael knew how Marko looked at her, but the only thing he could do was somehow keep him from killing her.

“Where did you go after you sang, Kay Kay?”

“I had to go find Michael and make sure he made it home safe. Was Tiffany nice to you?”

“She was. Aunt Lucy gave me a bath.”

“I figured she would. Do you want me to sing you a lullaby or read you a story?”

“No, I’m too tired.”

“Okie dokie. Goodnight, Babygirl.”

“Night night.”

“Okay, Michael. First of all, I have no feelings towards Marko. But, he does towards me. And no, not feelings of wanting to devour me. If he wanted to devour me, he had the chance. He just didn’t take it.”

“When?!”

“The night we were in their cave. The night you turned. He raced me back to the boardwalk remember? But guess what he did?”

“What?”

“He kissed me on the cheek.”

“What?!”

“He didn’t even act like he was gonna bite me. I don’t know what it was that kept him from doing so. He seems to be mesmerized by me. But there is something that those boys don’t know about me. No one but me and God know this fact.”

“What is it?”

“Michael! Can I come up? I have to talk to you!”

“It’s Star.”

“She’s gonna come up anyways.”

Kaylah was right. Star flew right into Michael’s room.

“You don’t look surprised or scared, Kaylah.”

“That’s cause I know what you are. I know what Michael is. I know what Laddie is. I know what the other four are.”

“Kaylah, you said there is something about you that only you and God know about. What is it?”

“Hold on. Sam, come in here.”

“Why?”

“Just come in here. The fact is, I’ve killed vampires before.”

“What?!”

“In Connersville, about two and a half years ago, we had the same problem that Santa Carla does. There were three of them. All boys. I knew what they were, cause I saw them across the road from my house one night. So, I decided to lure them into a trap the next night, and it worked. I chopped their heads of and cut their hearts out afterwards. I burned every bit of them and cursed the ashes back to hell. Star, I swear if you tell them, you will get the same punishment. The same goes for you, Michael. They cannot know. Not even Marko. Not even Laddie. He could tell them if he knew.” 

“We won’t tell them.”

“You’re an actual vampire hunter, Kaylah?”

“Yes.”

“Well, this knocks the Frog Brothers right out of the water.”

“It sure does.”

“Well, I’m gonna get some sleep, and I assume that Sam is, too. You two, do whatever, just don’t kill anyone, or I’ll kill you. Goodnight.”

“Goodnight.”

“By the way, Michael. Who did they slaughter? I couldn’t tell.”

“Just some surf nazis. David said he had crossed them before.”

“Was one of them bald?”

“Yeah, I think so.”

“Did the bald one have a septum piercing?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, at least he won’t be around to bother me anymore. He was always hitting on me and everything, and I came this close to cutting his balls of.”

“I believe it.”

Kaylah woke up the next morning with no problems, and no worries. She put on a black lace crop top, white bell bottom jeans, black cowgirl boots, and of course her fedora.

“Good morning, Sam. Did you sleep okay?”

“I slept alright. Why are you always up so early?”

"I find a moment of peace in the early mornings. When everything is quiet, I can think straight.”

“What have you got to think straight about?”

“Lots of things. Like, where I’ll be in twenty years. What? You don’t think about that stuff?”

“Not really, no.”

“That explains a lot, then.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I’m just teasing you, buddy. Don’t worry. If I don’t tease you, that means I don’t love ya. Now, get dressed. I’m taking the lot of you out for breakfast.”

“Okay.”

“Desi. Time to wake up, baby doll. We’re going to IHOP.”

“Yay! IHOP!”

Everyone but Michael and Grandpa went to IHOP that morning. Kaylah got her usual diner meal of steak and eggs. Desiree got waffles smothered in all kinds of waffle toppings, Kaylah loved to spoil her. Sam and Lucy both ordered bacon and eggs.

“Desi, you are almost covered in syrup.”

“But I like to be covered in syrup, Kay Kay!”

“I know, and you look cute with syrup all over your face. I’ll take a quick picture then we’ll go get you cleaned up.”

“Okie!”

Desiree gave a big smile at the camera, then Kaylah took her to get cleaned up.

“You are an absolute sticky mess, baby doll. But you make being covered in syrup look cute.”

“Did you bring me more clothes?”

“I did. I figured you would be covered in syrup.”

Kaylah got Desiree cleaned up as best as she could then they went out of the bathroom, and everyone else had finished eating.

“Y’alls ready to leave?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay, cause I gotta drop Desi back at her house.”

“But I don’t wanna go back home, Kay Kay!”

“You have to babydoll. You don’t live with me.”

“I wish I did live with you, Kay Kay.”

Desiree tried not to cry on the drive to her house, and she succeeded. Later that day, Kaylah had to go do modeling at Santa Carla’s country and western clothing store.

“What’s today’s outfit, Krystal?”

"Leopard print bell bottom jeans and a striped t-shirt.”

“You gotta be kidding me.”

“What?”

“Number one, I don’t look good in animal print, so someone else will have to model the jeans. Number two, even if I did look good in animal print, the outfit will still look tacky. Stripes do not match with animal print, at all. What other clothes are new?”

“Uh, we just got in some white bell bottom jeans, and a new t-shirt in red.”

“That will work. I won’t even have to change my boots.”

“Actually, you will, Kaylah. Would you please model these black snake skin boots?”

“Black snakeskin doesn’t look right either. You can barely see the snakeskin.”

“Okay, fine. Just the t-shirt and jeans then.”

“Fine by me.”

After Kaylah was done with the modeling shoot, she changed into a casual black jumpsuit, a denim tie knot blouse, and sandals. She then went over to the Frog family comic book store, where she knew Sam already was. She had some news to reveal to the Frog brothers.

“Edgar and Alan. I need to talk to you boys in your office.”

“What about?”

“I’m not saying anything out in the open.”

“She told me this news last night. Michael knows to, and the girl he likes.”

"Let's get inside so no creatures hear us."

The group headed to Kaylah's room to talk

“I’m a step up from being a vampire hunter, boys.”

“What’s a step up from that?”

“A step up up from being a vampire hunter, Alan, is being a vampire killer.”

“You’ve actually killed vampires?”

“Three, cause that’s how many were in Connersville. And, I saw a certain four here take Michael to show him what they are. I hid and the woods and watch them devour a bunch of surf nazis. Thank God Almighty they didn’t see me.”

“Do those certain four know this?”

“No, and I will keep it that way until the time is right. They come to the board walk every night, so I know you’ve seen them.”

“It’s that gothic-punk biker gang, isn't it?"

"Yup"

"I knew it!"

"Well, what are we gonna do about them?"

"We have to be careful at planning how to bring them down, boys. I was there the night they turned Michael. But I kept praying because I knew what they are. They are demons, and all demons get scared at the mntion of the name Jesus."

Edgar and Alan went home, while Kaylah and Sam went to check on Michael. He was scared half to death.

"Michael, I saw what happened."

"How did they not see you?"

"I've always been good at hiding. You have to limit your interactions with them, or you will be tempted to kill."

"Kaylah, if he doesn't kill, he'll get weaker."

"We'll satisfy his cravings with animal blood. Grandpa is a taxidermist, that shouldn't be hard."

So, Sam and Kaylah started holding back any animal blood that Grandpa drained from animals.

[masterab]

It had been five years since Sarah had approached these big wooden doors. They were closed now and ringing the doorbell gave her an odd feeling. They used to stand wide open, letting everyone in; unless you were late of course. Then you would’ve had to ring the bell and head to the secretary’s office to explain yourself before going to class. She knew she wasn’t going to receive a scolding or a note for her parents today, but still the feeling persisted as she made her way past the office, through the main hall to auditorium one.

All the chairs and tables were gone, except for a few that were filled with bowls of snacks and half-empty glasses with drinks. It surprised her how small everything seemed, not as big as she seemed to remember.

She recognized many old classmates and friends and wondered why she had never really kept in contact with any of them. In college she had made new friends, friends with whom she had more in common, while she forgot her high school friends. Still she tried her best talking to most of them, the conversation the same every time: How have you been, what did you do after school, do you have a boyfriend yet?

Her teachers seemed most interested in her studies and what she was going to do in the future. She was just talking to Mr Stevens at the make-shift bar the school had provided. Unlike the rest, he was just as she remembered him. He had been very young when she was in his class and in five years he had grown even more handsome than before.

Sarah had never swooned over her high school teachers like some of her friends – most of them over Mr Stevens – but she did have that secret fantasy long ago. It felt odd addressing your ex-teachers as if they were equals now, she kept referring to him as Mr Stevens, even though she knew his first name was Michael.

Bored of the repetitive discussion of her future, they were chatting about their past.

“I’m glad you choose to study architecture Sarah.” He said. “I remember you were always one of my best students.”

It was true, Sarah always got good grades in mathematics.

“Well, I can remember you standing in front of class, tapping that short wooden ruler in the palm of your hand when you were angry. That was usually when someone did something very stupid.” Sarah replied, she had never been very comfortable with receiving compliments.

“I studied hard, because I always thought that some day, you were going to spank someone with that and it wasn’t going to be me…” She blushed deeply as she realized what she said. The words had come out without thinking, as a joke. But in fact it was the fantasy she’d kept secret and almost forgotten during her years with ugly college professors.

Luckily Mr Stevens only laughed at her joke. “Wish I could Sarah, sometimes I think some of you make those mistakes on purpose, just to torture me.”

Sarah smiled, she wanted to steer this conversation back to a more normal discussion. But that naughty part of her that had been awoken by the memory was curious. “So you do imagine more imaginative punishments for your students than that extra homework that you used to hand out?”

Mr Stevens smiled back at her. “No Sarah, I think that would be quite inappropriate. First of, all of my students are under-age and secondly, it would be a gross abuse of my power as a teacher to do, or think about doing something like that.”

Sarah blushed, she shouldn’t have pushed the joke and now he must think she was weird.

After a short silence he asked: “You seem disappointed?”

Sarah laughed and immediately felt better, knowing he could still joke about it too. Time to talk about something else she decided, but she wasn’t given time.

“You know, you’re no longer a student of mine and not under-age either.” Mr Stevens said with a grin.

Sarah blushed scarlet.

“Oh relax.” He said. “I’m only teasing you…”

Sarah smiled and with courage she didn’t know she possessed she looked up at him and said four words: “Well, now I’m disappointed.”

Her stomach was making somersaults as Sarah followed Mr Stevens through the empty hallways. He led her to their old classroom, it looked exactly like Sarah remembered: the tables and chairs, the big teacher’s desk and the small blackboard. She was almost inclined to go to her seat in the left front row, but instead stood in the middle of the room as Mr Stevens locked the door. She looked at him as he proceeded to his desk and picked up that small wooden ruler, the same one as he used to carry around five years ago.

“You have grown up into a fine and beautiful young lady Sarah.” He said, making her blush. “But right now I want to discuss some of your behavior from back when you were still of my students. Come to the front of the class please.”

Sarah blushed and moved to stand next to his desk. She wasn’t sure where he was going with this, she had always been a good student she remembered.

“You always had good grades Sarah, the sort of grades a girl gets when she is naturally good at something.” The compliment made her blush again. “But sometimes being good at something makes a girl lazy. Many times I was sure you could have gotten even better grades if you had actually studied.”

Sarah frowned, but it was true, she rarely did study because she knew she could pass her tests anyway.

“This laziness was even reflected by not doing your homework as I asked you.” Mr. Stevens continued.

Sarah looked up in surprise. That wasn’t true, she always did her homework, except maybe once … or twice.

“At the time all I could do was give you an extra task. But since you’ve come to me here today I think we both know a better way to deal with such behavior, don’t we?” He asked

Sarah felt that he wanted a response, so she nodded. “Yes, Mr Stevens.”

“Good, I want you to stand over there and put your hands on my desk.” He said.

Sarah moved in front of the desk, her back facing the classroom.

Mr Stevens dropped the ruler on the desk and moved beside her. Her placed his hands on her shoulders and urged her forwards, bending over his desk.

“You’re lucky I waited all this time to do this Sarah. Imagine, if I had done this five years ago, all your friends and classmates would’ve been watching.” Mr. Stevens teased her.

Sarah blushed again, suddenly imagining all the tables behind her being occupied by her classmates. The thought increased her rising embarrassment as well as her excitement.

Mr Stevens hand slowly slid down from her shoulders, over her back to her bottom. The touch of his hand, encompassing her left cheek through her thin dress made her feel how turned on she was, her panties already moist with excitement.

With only two of his fingers he pulled up her dress, inch by inch it crawled up. The hem of her dress passed her thighs, her bottom, the edge of her panties, until her bottom was completely bared, her dress in a pile on her lower back.

Mr Stevens hand stroked her bottom now, his fingers tracing the edge of her panties and she moaned softly.

“These are very cute, Sarah.” He said to make her blush. “But they have to come down too.” Turning her blush into a gasp of excitement. His fingers reached behind her panties and pulled them down, just as slowly until they were dangling between her knees.

There she stood, bent over her teachers desk, her bared bottom facing the – fortunately empty – classroom and Mr Stevens’ hand caressing her pale cheeks, her thighs and then sliding up between her legs.

“Are you enjoying this Sarah?” He asked as he felt how wet she was.

Sarah no longer cared how embarrassing it was having him touch her there, being at his mercy, all she wanted was that he didn’t stop. “Yes, Mr Stevens.”

She had been thinking this was all going too fast, that she’d made a rash decision to fulfill a long forgotten fantasy; but when she felt how moist her lips were beneath his exploring fingers, she knew: It was now or never.

Mr. Stevens pulled his hand away, leaving her wet and wanting.

“Well, maybe we can do something about that later, but it’s not really a punishment if you enjoy it, is it?” He asked, before his hand smacked her bottom once, hard.

The sound echoed in the classroom and Sarah gasped. It didn’t really hurt, just an enjoyable sting that spread through her cheek. She was more afraid of the echoing sound. They were far away from the rest of the school, but it was so loud!

Another smack landed on her other cheek and she moaned appreciatively, sticking her bottom up high in the air, begging for more. Mr Stevens moved beside her, pressing his hip against hers, using one hand to hold her against him.

“It seems like you’re still enjoying this Sarah.” And his hand landed again even harder.

Sarah moaned and the spanking now really began. Smacks landing fast, one after the other and the sting in her bottom started to built. It did hurt, but not more than she could take. She squirmed and moaned as the hard smacks turned her bottom red, but Mr Stevens held her firmly in place.

Embarrassment and excitement fought inside her; it hurt and she wanted him to stop, but at the same time she really wanted this to go on forever.

The smacks kept coming and she felt tension rising inside her, she was wet even between her thighs now and for a moment she was afraid she was going to have an orgasm, driven over the edge by nothing more than a fantasy come true.

“Please Mr Stevens.” She begged as the pain in her bottom rose even higher. “I’ll be good, I’m sorry I didn’t do my homework and that I didn’t study.” She said. Another smack landed, and another, but not as fast, not as hard.

He had heard her pleas. “I’m glad to hear that Sarah.” He said, his hand now caressing her bottom once more, slowly making the pain subside. “Are you going to be a good girl and do as you’re told now?” He asked.

“Yes.” She answered immediately, she would do anything he asked of her.

“Good. Stay as you are.” Mr Stevens let go of her and walked around her. “If you really are a good girl that does as she’s told, there is no reason for me to hold you down.”

Sarah stayed bent over his desk, her bare red bottom high in the air. She could only imagine one thing happening now: Her old teacher fucking her wet pussy after he had thoroughly spanked her. She urged to feel him inside her and grant her that orgasm she’d barely reached from the spanking alone.

Mr Stevens however, picked up the wooden ruler from his desk. “Now I think you had a specific fantasy about my ruler, didn’t you?” He said.

Sarah blushed, she had totally forgotten about that thing. She didn’t want him to spank her more, especially not with that ruler. She wanted to be fucked; but at the same time that excited feeling came over her again. She wasn’t supposed to get what she wanted, she was supposed to be punished. The thought turned her on even more and suddenly she felt that she didn’t really want her spanking to be over just yet.

“Yes Mr Stevens.” She said obediently.

“Good girl.” He said as he moved back behind her. “Ten strokes should do.” He said as her placed the cold wooden ruler on her hot backside.

Sarah lifted her bottom, welcoming her punishment even though she feared it as well. When the ruler landed, the sting spread across her bottom rapidly and she yelped.

“One.” Said Mr Stevens and he lifted the ruler again.

‘No wait, no.’ She thought, this would hurt too much, but the ruler already landed again.

“Two.”

Her bottom protested in her mind, but Sarah refused to show weakness. She could take the punishment she deserved, and kept her bottom up high for every smack.

“Three.”

Such a naughty and embarrassed yet sexy, excited schoolgirl she felt.

“Four.”

She was dripping between her legs, she realized, even while her bottom was set on fire.

“Five. Six.”

She was proud that she didn’t dodge the ruler, that she was able to keep her position bravely.

“Seven.”

Her bottom had accepted the pain, only three more to go, but she felt like she could take more. She could take all he wanted to give her.

“Eight.”

She no longer cared if anyone could hear her outside, she yelped loudly at each stinging smack.

“Nine.”

Only one more, she told herself, panting. She lifted her bottom to welcome it.

“Ten.” It landed hard and sharp, making her squeal loudly, but finally it was over.

Mr Stevens took her by her arm and lifted her from the desk. She followed him willingly, not sure what he was planning, until he placed her in the corner of the classroom.

“Hands on your head young lady.”

She blushed deeply as she realized he had added corner time to her punishment. Behind her he rolled up her dress so that her bottom stayed bare, her panties had slid down all the way to her ankles.

Mr. Stevens let her stand there for several minutes and as the pain in her bottom cooled down, the excitement between her legs only grew. She started imagining what else he would do to her, how he was going to fuck her after this and slowly the feeling of an embarrassed schoolgirl subsided and was replaced by horniness and wanting.

When he finally came back, standing behind her, his hands caressing her sore bottom, her knees were weak and her breathing ragged. “Do you want me to fuck you, Sarah?” He asked

“Yes, please.” She whispered.

He took her back to the desk, bending her over in the same position as her spanking. It was exactly what she had hoped for, to be fucked like she’d been spanked.

She could barely take the anticipation as he unzipped his pants, no longer touching her as he fished a condom out of his wallet – how schoolboy of him she almost joked – before his hands grabbed her bottom, squeezing the sensitive flesh tightly as he slid inside her.

They didn’t say a word as he pushed inside of her, quickly building a steady rhythm. He fucked her hard and fast, his hips slapping against her red bottom and all the excitement and anticipation of the afternoon built inside her.

She held on to the desk hard as she moaned loudly, her body shaking as she quickly reached that orgasm she had not managed during her spanking. Shortly after, she felt him shake and stop and she knew he had been just as excited, reaching his orgasm just as fast as she had.

She blushed as she pulled her panties back on after finding them left behind in the corner. Mr Stevens had cleaned away the condom and was sitting in his chair, watching her. The soft fabric was cool but chafing against her sore bottom and she blushed when he smiled.

“Time to get back to the reunion, I think.” He said as she let her dress drop, covering up the evidence of their play.

Sarah followed him back through the hallways as an idea formed in her head. She gathered the courage she had found earlier in the day and looked up at him once more. She had to ask him before they reached the others.

”You know … I’m thinking of getting my masters degree, but I could really use some tutoring for mathematics.” She managed without a blush.

Mr Stevens looked down at her with a smile, his hand quickly reaching down and stroking her bottom. “I would love to help you, Sarah.” He said. “But when it comes to the private tutoring of college girls, I can be a lot stricter than for my own students.”

Sarah smiled. “That’s what I was hoping for.”

[aplacetosharemyfics]

Mary Poppins: Introducing Mrs. Banks

Jane Banks looked up from chasing down a crunchable leaf to find her nanny was no longer at her side. Michael was only a few steps away poking at a bush with a stick. Turning around a couple of times, she finally spotted Mary Poppins on the other side of the street.

“Michael, look.”

She pointed across the street where Mary Poppins held a middle-aged woman in a tight grip on her upper arm as she whispered in her ear. The woman had her back to them so they couldn’t see her expression, but Mary Poppins looked alarmingly serious. The other time they’d seen her look so serious was when their father had attempted to reprimand her.

“Is she threatening her?”

The two Banks children looked at each other, worried.

On the other side of the street, Grace listened attentively as Mary described Mrs. Banks to her.

“You think she needs help?”

Mary paused, pressing her lips together as she considered.

“She needs friends.”

In the weeks Mary had spent in the Banks household, she’d watched the erratic behaviour of Mrs. Banks. She’d return from a Suffragette protest brimming with suppressed energy, desperate to share her stories. And then her husband would return, and she’d shrink into a meek maid for George Banks.

Grace didn’t question her. She knew Mary’s predictions often came true, and this was the first time she’d been employed to help with a family Mary was actively caring for. She nodded.

“I’ll see what I can do.”

Mary gave her arm a squeeze before crossing the street to join the Banks children. Grace watched her go before continuing along her way. She would need to plan this carefully. It was exciting.

-----------------

The best approach, she decided, was to find her after a protest. It was the only time Mrs. Banks appeared to leave the house. Attempting to catch her on the way to a protest would introduce a time limit, and could possibly lead to her being convinced to join in the demonstration. And it was best for her to maintain a low profile.

That day, the Suffragettes were protesting outside a politician’s house conveniently close to Grace’s house. She arrived halfway through the demonstration to find a large group of women gathered in front of the house, some waving large posters. A small crowd had gathered to watch on the other side of the street. Grace slipped among them, hovering near the back, and peering at the Suffragette. She’d dressed for the occasion, leaving her favourite red hat at home – the same hat that Mary had saved her over – in preference for a dull brown hat with a large brim. She didn’t want to stand out.

“Votes for women!”

If she was younger, Grace thought, and hadn’t Mary’s children to worry about, she might have found herself on the picket fence herself. However she realised, as she finally spotted Mrs. Banks amongst the protesters, the mother was a similar age to her.

“Alright, ladies. Time to move on.”

The policemen arrived with little fanfare, given the protest today had been peaceful, and the ladies quickly dispersed. Grace hung back, biting her lip, as she watched Mrs. Banks take her time talking with a fellow Suffragette. Which direction would she take? Would she go along? And now she began to worry about what to say. Mrs. Banks finished her conversation, waved goodbye, and headed alone towards the street leading to Grace’s house. Breathing a sigh of relief, Grace followed.

The streets were more crowded than usual, possibly due to the protest. Mrs. Banks had to take a corner particularly sharply, brushing roughly against the front of the house. Her dress snagged on the stupidly ornate railings. She gave it little thought and a strong tug, and it broke free. Grace, a few steps behind, grinned. A plan had formed in her head. For, you see, when Mrs. Banks pulled her dress, the sharp edge of the railing had torn a large gash in the skirt.

“Excuse me, Miss.”

Grace called out, jogging to catch up, touching Mrs. Banks on the shoulder. The woman whipped around, her hands held up in pseudo-boxing fists, prepared for an anti-suffragette attack. Grace quickly stepped back, holding up her empty hands.

“I’m sorry, I wasn’t thinking.”

When Mrs. Banks didn’t relax, she continued.

“I just wanted to point out that you’ve ripped your dress.”

Mrs. Banks gasped, shifting her skirts to reveal the large tear, wincing at the damage to her favourite dress.

“What will George say,” she muttered.

For a second, she lifted the skirt to examine it closer. A couple of passing gentlemen slowed their pace as they passed, eyebrows raising in interest. Mrs. Banks quickly dropped the skirts, her cheeks pink.

“I’m a seamstress. I could fix it,” Grace offered. “My house is just nearby.”

“Would you?”

Grace pressed her lips together. She wanted to scold the woman for so readily accepting a stranger’s help – after all, she’d heard so many horror stories from the girls who arrived at her door. But, in this case, it made her plan a little easier. So, she bit her lip and motioned for Mrs. Banks to follow her.

“Thank you, so much. This is my favourite dress,” Mrs. Banks chattered away.

They fell into step together.

“My name is Winifred Banks.”

“Grace Hunt.”

They shook hands. Mrs. Banks worse soft leather gloves over dainty hands. Grace’s hands were strong and bare, showing off the scars and callouses from years of use. Even so, Mrs. Banks happily gripped the work-worn hands, no sign of the disgust Grace had seen many times from the noble ladies in town.

Mrs. Banks paused as Grace fiddled with the key, looking up at the massive house. Surely, she merely rented a room. Or was that house her husband’s? But, for the first time, a thought crossed her mind questioning whether she should trust this woman. This didn’t prevent her from following Grace inside, removing her hat to place it beside Grace’s on the coat hooks. Inside, the house was littered with belongings, shelves straining under books and toys, and photos lining the walls of people from all walks of life. In the living room, a large table was covered with scraps and rolls of material, one corner cleared where a state-of-the-art sewing machine was sat.

“Would you like a cup of tea?”

Mrs. Banks absently nodded, still enthralled with the room and its contents. Crossing to the table, she recognised the beginnings of a dress, covered with fine embroidery. George would never allow her to leave the living room in such a state. In fact, his picky nature meant that the house needed to be perfect in every aspect. She blinked. There was something about the thought that niggled at her brain. She looked around the room again, this time taking in the little details, before exclaiming as she finally realised what she’d been missing. There were no signs of a man in this house. The coat rack where she’d hung her hat held only Grace’s coat and hat, along with a worn red hat that no man would be seen dead in. The little table next to the armchairs had no ashtray for a man to put his pipe.

“Here we are.”

Grace bustled back in with a cup in her hands, sweeping aside some of the mess on the table so she could place the cup down. Mrs. Banks found herself wincing as the cup was placed down without a coaster.

“Now, sit down here, and I’ll see to your dress.”

Mrs. Banks obediently sat, perching on the edge of the offered chair, spreading out her skirts so the tear was accessible, and picked up her tea. It was cool enough to drink. She sipped. It was pleasant. As she lowered the cup from her mouth, she caught sight of Grace sitting down to sit on the floor in front of her. She quickly put her cup back down again. Her cheeks felt quite warm. A bobbin of thread and pincushion had been retrieved from the table and now lay on the floor beside Grace who was closely examining the tear. Mrs. Banks was not accustomed to having a woman in such a position. She wanted to suggest that she remove the dress for it to be fixed. But then she’d be sat there in her underwear, and that felt even more inappropriate. So, she had to sit there, blushing, as Grace started to work.

“Are you married?” she eventually blurted out.

Grace didn’t look up, but she did reply:

“Never found the right one. You?”

After a second of silence, Grace glanced up. Mrs. Bank blinked.

“Oh, yes. George Banks. A wonderful man. He’s a partner at the bank,” she replied quickly.

“And he’s okay with you being at those protests?”

Mrs. Banks bit her lip and grabbed her cup for another sip.

“He doesn’t know,” she admitted. “But I don’t believe he’d mind. As long as I’m there to greet him when he returns from work.”

She took another long sip of tea, trying to ignore how Grace was staring.

At that moment, the bell rang. Grace swore under her breath as she climbed to her feet.

“I’ll be back in a sec. Wait there.”

Before opening the door, she took a few deep breaths so she was no longer angry at the rude stranger who’d interrupted her talk with Mrs. Banks.

“Grace.”

It wasn’t a stranger. Rather, the tall man standing on her front step was one of Mary’s children, Doctor Brown. After his short stay in Grace’s house in his early twenties, he’d gone on to open one of the most popular medical clinics in London. A fair number of his patients had found their way onto Grace’s doorstep.

“It’s my niece.”

There was some resemblance between the towering doctor and the timid girl at his side. They had the same nose, though it looked significantly better on a feminine face. The girl ducked behind her uncle, clutching at his coat, whimpering.

“It’s okay. She’s my sister,” Doctor Brown reassured her.

He turned to Grace, leaning closer so the whisper passed only between the two.

“He beat her.”

Again, Grace’s eyes flicked towards the girl.

“Come in.”

She glanced towards the living room, checking that Mrs. Banks was still where she’d left her. The doctor followed her eyes, raising his eyebrows.

“I see you’re already busy.”

“James,” Grace scolded him. “She’s just a client.”

She picked at the pins she’d tucked into her sleeve to prove the point. Doctor James Brown grinned.

“So, I shouldn’t go introduce myself?”

Occasionally, Grace would call the good Doctor round to look over some of the more battered children who ended up at her door. She pushed him towards the stairs.

“Choose any bedroom.”

James nodded, his mood becoming more serious as he gently gathered his niece into his arms, princess style, to carry her upstairs. Grace winced. She hoped it was merely James’ sentimentally towards his niece.

The Doctor was down again quickly.

“Here.”

He pulled a cheque from his coat pocket. Grace barely glanced at the number scrawled in the Doctor’s crabby writing before pushing it back to him.

“I can’t take that.”

“Sure, you can. I know you need the money. And it's for helping my niece.”

He shoved the cheque into her hands and left before she could throw it back at him. Grace groaned, smoothing it out to look at the massive number. She did need the money – it was unsurprisingly hard to run a boarding house when none of the occupants had much money.

“Was that Doctor Brown?”

Grace jumped, stuffing the cheque into a pocket before turning around to find Mrs. Banks in the doorway.

“I didn’t know he had a sister.”

Grace gave her a stern look.

“You cannot mention that you saw him here.”

Mrs. Banks blinked, shocked, and hurt. She’d felt they’d been getting along. Grace winced and quickly relaxed her facial expression. It was no use letting her anger out on Mrs. Banks.

“This house operates as a safe house for people with nowhere else to go,” she explained softly, leading Mrs. Banks back into the living room. “The people who end up here are often at the lowest points of their lives.”

She sat back on the floor and retrieved her needle from where she’d left it in Mrs. Banks’ skirt.

“To protect them, it’s best to keep quiet.”

Mrs. Banks swallowed. Grace was bent over her skirt again, but she’d caught a glimpse of an expression of love and care. It was beautiful.

“And terms of the sibling comment,” Grace continued, straightening up to consider how to best explain without revealing her connection to Mary Poppins. “It’s a reference to the woman who protected us.”

Mrs. Banks nodded, though she didn’t quite understand.

The room fell into silence. After a while, Mrs. Banks started to describe her children, laughing about an absurd story they had told about their latest outing with their nanny. She felt like she could tell this woman anything.

“George tried to tell her off, but Mary Poppins managed to turn it around so in the end he was thanking her.”

Grace joined in the laughter, imagining the scandalous look Mary would wear as her employer tried to tell her that she was out of line.

“There.”

She cut the thread and held out the skirt to check the result. Mrs. Banks bent over too, squinting at the fabric. She couldn’t even tell where the tear had been. It was as if the accident had never happened. It was amazing. How much would such a feat cost? She quickly found her purse in her coat pocket, but found Grace’s hand upon hers.

“You don’t need to pay.”

This was an investment, Grace thought. A saviour, Mrs. Banks thought.

“But” Grace continued, “if you ever need a safe place, or someone to talk with, feel free to come by.”

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