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glorismorningstar · 4 months ago

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THE LION CHRONICLES

Pairings: Lute x f!reader, Carmilla Carmine x f! situationship!reader, fatherfigure!Alastor x f!reader

Summary: Now that Alastor's back, Y/N joins him at the Overlord meeting, where more information about the recent extermination is revealed. Later, her relationship with Carmilla has an interesting development.

Warnings: WLW, casual relationship, unrequited love, pain, heartbreak, lesbian smut (cw - fingering, oral, mommy kink, strap on, tail pulling), angst, violence, death, homophobia

A/N: I apologise in advance for everything, this part was so deep and interesting to write, contains a lot of character development and each part will contain more drama than the last *cough* episode 6 *cough cough*

| PART 2 // PART 3 // PART 4 |

˚₊‧ ꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

˚₊‧ ꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

"How much higher do you want it?" I ask as my tail wraps around the side of the ladder for balance, hands holding up the banner we made together.

"A little bit more... there,” Charlie says and got up from the other side of the ladder to hammer it down as Vaggie holds the ladder still. "That looks perfect! Aah! I'm so excited that Sir Pentious is staying at the hotel!"

"Um, Pentious was just trying to take over the city with his weird steampunk bullshit a few days ago." Vaggie points out.

"Well, I haven't seen him try any of that in here." Just as Charlie finishes the sentence, Pentious comes in with his Egg Bois, wheeling in something that looks like a cannon, but... fancier. Huh.

"What the Hell is that?”

"Oh, hello, purple female. It's my new invention, the SkinFlayer 11.000!" He hisses proudly, tipping his hat as the eggs chase each other around the room. One of them begins climbing up my tail and I yelp, then chuckled quietly and let him play with the fluffy tuft, swishing it from side to side. “I'm really looking forward to shooting the other residents."

"What? Why?"

"Everyone is being too nice. Obviously it must be a lie. I can sense they are planning to kill me, but when? How? I must be prepared!" Ah, yeah, trust issues. That's a bitch. Been there, currently doing it. “Ooh, the new parts of my machine are here."

I turn to look at the doorway and beam, it was Clara and Odette, Carmilla's daughters. But as expected, they're delivering weapons to Pentious.

Damn it.

"Y/N!"

"Hello, girls." I smile and trot over to give each of them a hug. I look at the weapons and at Pentious before directing my gaze back to them with a nervous chuckle, “What's going on here?"

"We got a delivery at the Hazbin Hotel. We assumed you'd know something about it." Clara speaks as she unloads the boxes, while Odette asks for the signature. I run a hand over my face and sigh, this is exactly what I was supposed to stop from happening.

"Yeah, so did I." I sigh, burying a hand in my mane and looking at Vaggie with an apologetic grimace.

"Thank you for your business. Enjoy your Carmine purchase."

"Carmine? As in Carmilla Carmine? You're buying parts from an Overlord?"

"So, Y/N, are you coming to the meeting today?" Clara asks me. Since Alastor is back, I don't know how much he'd need my help, but then again, I wouldn't mind. It's not like I have a lot to do right now anyway.

"Uh, yeah, yeah, I am. Tell your mother I said hi."

As soon as they leave, I redirect my attention to the Egg Bois playing with my tail. Apparently some others joined in while I was talking to Carmilla's daughters and began following me everywhere. I giggle and wag my tail for them to chase, leaping around the room and being extra careful not to squish them. One of them catches my tail and I smile, swishing it to curl around my hip so that I can look at the Egg properly. "Hello, little one. Do you have a name?”

"It's Frank, ma'am." The little creature says in a silly, goofy voice, which makes me giggle and shake his hand with my finger.

"My name is Y/N.” I introduce myself with a smile, eyes sparkling with cuteness overload when he grabs my finger.

"Hello, Y/N!"

"You absolutely cannot build weapons in this Hotel. No one wants to kill you. People are being nice to you because they want you to feel welcome!" Vaggie lectures with a raised finger. She gives off mom energy, I bet she and Charlie would make great parents one day.

Both Sir Pentious and I turn to look at the other members of the group: Husk is chugging on a bottle of booze in the bar and peeks at the serpent, then extends his middle finger; Angel Dust does the same, and Nifty stops her dusting to look in our direction with a creepy look that terrifies me to my very soul. And don't get me started on Alastor.

"Mhm, I have my doubts." Pentious hisses.

"Well, it's true. You have to trust us." Trust is a tricky thing. It's not easy to do so again after misplacing it so many times. Surprisingly, the one that taught me that was Sera. She first betrayed my trust when she agreed to punish Lucifer; she's the one in charge, the one that's supposed to preach forgiveness and generosity, yet she destroyed the life of a man that grew up with me - with us. The second time was when she approved the extermination. She'd be willing to murder human souls, men, women, children, all in an attempt to protect us? From what? And worse, she's the reason Lute puts herself in such danger by coming down here every year.

I don't know why I hide from her every extermination day. To be fair, I'm hiding

from them, not her. Adam, that frat boy of a commander, Celeste, that coward that resorted to homophobia when her tiny peanut brain couldn't come up with a comeback, and of course, all of her posse that tore my wings off and threw me down here... ugh, stop. I don't even have the courage to face my girlfriend now. She's an exorcist angel, she murders the damned for a living. What would she think of me if the sweet, (somewhat) well behaved girl she fell in love with became... this? A sinner.

I think that's why I never contacted Lucifer or Vaggie when I first got here. Lucifer is my childhood best friend, my partner-in-crime, and when he fell, I was far beyond devastated. I didn't know what I'd do without him, he's almost like my brother. We'd sneak out of the palace past curfew and get in trouble all the time. I tried everything to keep him from falling and I failed. I just don't think I'd have the courage to face him. And it's the same with Vaggie. We used to be friends when she first joined the army and got pretty close, and then I lost her, too. I ended up coming in contact with her when Alastor dragged me here, but I was still scared to death.

"Hey, Y/N, are you joining us for trust exercises today?" Charlie asks with a grin and slings an arm around my shoulder, which brings a smile to my face. She's Lucifer's daughter. My dearest friend's daughter. I'm so proud of her.

"As much as I'd like to solve my trust issues, I have a meeting to attend, dear.” I reply and ruffle her hair affectionately, chuckling softly and fixing my black and purple bow tie before walking upstairs to go get Alastor and leave.

˚₊‧ ꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

Rosie and the other Overlords are already there when Alastor, Zestial and I get to the meeting room. The first thing I do is lock eyes with Carmilla: there she stands, at the head of the table and with her daughters on either side of her. She flashes me a small smile from across the room, which I reciprocate and also give her a small wave. She chuckles quietly and returns the gesture, the affectionate glint in her eyes making my cheeks go pink as my ears pin back against my head in shyness. I smile at her once more before looking for a seat. I was hoping to sit next to Alastor, as usual, but he and Rosie must have lots of catching up to do, so I leave them be and opt for the other side of the table. The first chairs next to the head of the table are her daughters’, so I leave Clara her seat and begin to pull out the chair beside her. That's when I feel a big hand on my shoulder and immediately recognize it as Carmilla, her touches always feel like a wider than usual span of warmth. My ears perk up at the contact and at the sound of her angelic steel ballet slippers clicking on the floor and I smile at her once again. The Overlord rests her other hand on a fancier chair to the right of her own spot and offers, “You can sit here if you want.”

There are only two chairs like these in the room, one on either side of her. The left one is normally occupied by Zestial, with whom she's really close, and she's offering me the other seat. Me. She wants me to sit with her and her family. My heart swells and my pupils soften even further, now looking like the sweetest kitten ever. “Really?”

“Mhm. Come, corazón, we're about to begin.” She replies quietly and gently pulls me along, letting me sit on the chair beside her as she prepares to start the meeting. While our situationship isn't some big secret, she doesn't like public displays of affection very much. She says she's afraid of making me a target and wants to protect me - the irony of my secret draws out bitterness from me. Regardless, her habit of calling me by my term of endearment in her native language fails to falter, which is why she kept her voice down while talking to me.

“Welcome, Hell sovereign Overlords.” Carmilla begins as I take my seat, silencing the quiet chatter of the other Overlords. The soft and familiar metal clicking of her ballet slippers soothes me, my ears twitching towards the sound each time she takes a step. “I've invited you all here because you represent the controlling powers of our city. Together, you own millions of souls.”

I watch her with a relatively neutral expression from beside her, curious eyes veiling the silent admiration underneath. I don't know what's wrong with me sometimes, she's wonderful. I've struggled to connect with her in the past outside of sexual encounters, and I have no idea why. It's not even her issue, it's mine. I'd never want a relationship that's just physical, it's outside of my comfort zone… but then again, so is being with someone like this. Physical, yes, but the emotional side of our relationship is just hard for me. I guess I was so convinced I'd spend eternity with Lute for more than thirty years that I struggle with the fact that it won't come true. I know that the other day she was about to ask me to be her girlfriend before we got interrupted, but subconsciously, a part of me was almost… relieved she didn't? Ugh, what is wrong with me?

“Alastor?” The call of his name snaps me out of my train of thought, attention shifting to my father figure as my ears perk up once again. I don't have parents. My father is technically God because he created me, but I've never met him, and while Sera raised me and was sort of a maternal figure to me, she's my older sister - with whom I have numerous issues - I was never able to make that strong of a bond with her as I did with Emily. So I guess that's why I'm so attached to Alastor and Rosie.

“Yes, I know, I've been absent some time. I'm sure you've all been wondering.” He replies and I roll my eyes with fondness. I know for sure he was trying to look mysterious by planting Carmilla the opportunity to ask questions only to give her a vague answer. The poor dear.

“Not really. But welcome back in any case.” The small angry radio noises almost draw a snicker from me. He looks so annoyed right now. Poor guy, she could have humored him, at least.

With a snap of her fingers, Odette hands her a clipboard and she turns on the presentation as Carmilla keeps speaking. “This year's extermination was brutal, far more even than years past. We have assessed that about 16% of the population was lost. With the angelic legions now returning twice as quickly, I think it prudent we-”

I jump in my seat for a split second when the door slams open and I roll my eyes at the obnoxious, thickly accented voice chattering on the phone, suppressing an annoyed growl.

Oh, fuck me.

It's Velvette. She appears to be on the phone with one of her dear, dear colleagues - who are technically supposed to be here, for the record. “I've got it handled, Vox. Are you doubting me? Really? Me? That's what I thought.”

I hate to say it, but out of the three Vees, she's the most responsible. No, less worse would be a better suited definition. Between a porn director, the host of a video podcast that brainwashes people into doing his bidding and a fun-sized influencer, I guess I'd have to go with the latter. But that doesn't make her any less annoying. “Yes, I know. They're all a joke.”

The annoyance and contempt on the three Carmines’ faces is mirrored in my own as well as Zestial's. My ears pin back against my head at the insult, not for myself, but for the others. She's like a fussy child. And Carmilla less than deserves this bullshit at her own meeting. “Thank you, V. See you soon. Kisses, darling.”

I smell lesbian.

“Nice of you to join us, Velvette. Will your… colleagues be joining?” The sincerity in her tone is completely lost and with reason. I can sense it in the way she emphasizes the word colleagues and how the deprecation she feels is written all over her face, regardless of how much she tries to appear professional.

Oh, say no, say no, say no…

“No. They have better shit to do than to listen to an old windbag who thinks she's tough shit. I'm here to represent.” And so it begins. While Carmilla only narrows her eyes at the jab, I'm not that graceful when my loved ones are offended. My ears draw back and my tail sways behind me as I bare my teeth, pupils slitting while a soft growl rumbles from my throat. It's barely noticeable, but not to someone right beside me.

“Charming.” She mutters as she turns around, taking advantage of the fact that the table is tall enough to conceal her hands and brushing the back of her fingers along my arm in a gentle, soothing caress, which brings a flutter to my stomach as my posture relaxes. My ears and tail return to their usual position and my pupils soften once again, but the protective pout on my lips remains. No one fucks with my loved ones.

“So, as I was saying, we need to discuss-” Carmilla begins once again, but is interrupted by Velvette waving her hand once again. Ugh. “Yes?”

“On the subject of discussion…” she begins, then pulls something from out of nowhere and throws it on the table, golden splashes splattering on the surface.

It's an exorcist's head.

While a collective gasp rises from the group, a shuddering exhale falls from my parted lips as my eyes land on the severed head of the angel, ears drooping and eyes wide with terror. Exorcists… they can die? Oh, no, no, no, no… what about Lute? Is she safe? Who did this? How did they do this?

Wait, I know that mask.

She was a member of Celeste's posse.

One of Celeste's buddies was murdered?

I remember them. Celeste is a sergeant in the exorcist army, above the other soldiers but below Lute. The rest of her posse is only made of soldiers and they're all kinds of trouble, but one of their worst faults is homophobia.

“Do you take medicine for homosexuality?”

“What kind of a Seraph are you, tempted by something so unholy?”

“You and Lute have been getting really close lately.”

“It's just some trend, it's not real. You're just pretending.”

“I wonder what you call the lieutenant when you're alone…”

The very thought makes my skin crawl. One time, Lute started a fight with them because they wouldn't stop insulting me. Luckily, Adam was smart enough to break it up, which I only think he did because Lute was involved, otherwise he would have been thrilled. Lute ended up with a broken wing while Celeste had multiple bruises and a broken nose. No one had ever defended me that fiercely before.

“Where did you get this?” Carmilla isn't nearly as appalled as I thought she would be. She looks somewhere between surprised and frustrated, yet at the same time neither. I can't tell what she's thinking right now, what she's doing. Her posture looks more tense than before, her eyes narrowed and her white irises smaller, more slitted. Her daughters appear far more surprised, but not as much as I expected two young adults to be either. Did I miss something?

“We found it during extermination day. If these holy rollers can be killed, the game has changed. We can take the fight to them.” Absolutely not. Declaring war on the Heavens is about the dumbest idea I can possibly think of, not only because I want to protect my family and loved ones, but because this happened once before, and it's the reason the extermination even exists. Well, that and that man child Adam and Sera with her power and her lack of moral compass. “The boys and I have come up with a full assault plan-”

Her suggestions are interrupted by Zestial and his aggressive slurping on that cup of tea. The sound, annoying but not as much as Velvette's voice, drags on for a few seconds as the room falls silent. The Overlord then puts the cup down on the saucer and interweaves his hands together, then speaks, “If it be true thee and thy colleagues desire to war with such meager proof, thou art far more foolish than I be thought.”

“Meager proof? It's a dead fucking exorcist. I'd say that's pretty fucking definitive.” She scoffs. It's good to see that Zestial and I are on the same page, all I need to do is get the others on our side, too. “You going blind, old man?”

“We know not how this perished, mayhaps t'was not by a demon's hand at all. If we rush to war without knowing, mightn't they purge all of Hell for daring an uprising?”

“I agree with Zestial. If I recall correctly, the very reason the Heavens approved the yearly exorcism is to punish the population of Hell for attempting a coup d'etat. This can only make things worse.”

The soft muttering of agreement that rises from the room is my greatest victory of the day. I think of Sera and what loads she bears on her own, regardless of how angry I am at her, I think of young, naive little Emily and how she still thinks that Heaven is perfect, I think of Lute and her safety and her happiness, despite believing that she's probably already moved on. I wouldn't blame her if she has, it's been twenty seven years, but her wellbeing will always be my priority.

My eyes flicker to Carmilla and now I'm sure something's up. She hasn't pitched in with any opinion on this, she didn't look shaken in the slightest when the other Overlord revealed the severed head, and now she looks like she's hiding something. Her eyes are squinted and she's looking to the side with a small pout on her lips, likely lost in her thoughts. Is there a secret afoot? When she meets my gaze, I look at her with soft, gentle eyes and make a soft quizzical noise just loud enough for her to hear, something between a grunt and a purr. What surprises me most, however, is how a flash of guilt appears in her eyes before she schools her expression once again and adverts her eyes from me. It was her, wasn't she? I'm not angry at her for killing the angel, because I'm sure she has a reasonable explanation for that. She's not the type to act on impulse or violence unless it's a last resort. But it just bothers me a bit that she didn't talk to me about this - not that I'm in a position to judge, anyway - but I was hoping she'd trust me with something like this.

My eyes flit back to Velvette just in time to notice the look on her face when she sees Carmilla acting odd, and that's exactly what makes me tense up with protectivity again. “Oh, I get it. So grandpa and the scaredy cat are too pussy to fight, so I guess there's no point, right?”

Then she gets up in Zestial's face to attack him, which annoys me even further. And why does she have to step on the table? She might be small, but that's so rude. “What's the matter, fossil? Too senile to make a real power grab for-”

♪ You better show some respect

Check your behavior

No one speaks to Zestial that way ♪

Whoa.

Carmilla has never snapped once in the entire time I've known her. I'd say it's not a good look on her but I'd be completely lying if I did, because she looks so unbelievably attractive. Oh, my God, how did I ever pull a woman like her? She's just so… ugh. She's strong and dominant and gorgeous. I want to fling myself into the sun right now and I'm pretty sure I'm blushing. I'm having a lesbian panic in the middle of the most serious meeting of my life and the small familiar tingle between my legs isn't helping much either. Okay, this is not good. Alright, do something normal. I cross my legs to shift my position while trying to soothe some of the heat between my thighs by subtly squeezing them together, then rub my jaw with my hand to cover up the soft pink color rushing to my cheeks.

♪ Did you expect us

To sit back and take your

Insolent, brazen display? ♪

I don't even pretend I'm paying attention to what Velvette is saying, because why would I listen to some British chippy when I can daydream about my girlfriend? The way she defends me and Zestial makes her look so hot. She has that determined pout and that protective glare in her scarlet eyes… I swear that sometimes it's like she doesn't even know how gorgeous she is. Somehow, our first kiss comes to mind.

˚₊‧ ꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

This meeting was longer than expected. I've been sitting in this chair for almost two hours and my ass is square. I get up and lean back against the back support of the chair, my vertebrae cracking with a satisfying pop. I hear her soft chuckle and my ears perk up at the sound, so gentle and brief yet meaningful to my ears. The other Overlords already left, it's just the two of us and I have to put my paperwork in order because it was a little disorganized today. “Do you need help with that?”

“Oh, no, that's okay. Don't trouble yourself.” I say with a casual wave of the hand and a small smile, endeared by her kindness. She's sweet, I like that.

“Ah, it's no trouble.” Carmilla replies, moving to stand beside me as she joins me in fumbling with the messy paper sheets. She's pretty close to me, and she's actually like eight feet tall which is so hot and only serves to thicken the tension simmering between us. My ears go flat against my head every time my tiny hands brush against her bigger ones and sparks shoot up my body and heart. I haven't felt like this in a long, long while. It's almost been thirty years, yet I'm still grieving a life I'm never going to have with a woman I'm never going to see again. I've dated Lute for so long, long enough to still own the engagement ring I bought her before I fell. It's damn time I move on, I bet she already has years ago.

“Here.” My thoughts are interrupted when she hands me half the handful of papers. Oh, thank god.

“Oh- thank you.” I reply and smile softly at her, tail wagging behind me as I take the papers and rest them atop the other half of the pile. The silence is almost deafening, begging to be broken as our eyes meet once again. The glow of her ruby sclerae has me entranced for a few moment, my own pupils dilating with awe and attraction as my ears pin back against my head once again. She looks so pretty right now.

I swallow thickly and clear my throat, wussing out as I scratch the back of my neck and point to the doorway and take a few nervous steps forward, “I should- um-” For fuck's sake, why don't I want to be with her? What's wrong with me? I know I'm sexually attracted to her, but it can't be just that, can it? I'm incapable of having purely physical relationships. I do feel affection for her, I genuinely do, but it's not as… strong as I would have hoped. Even so, this is the most attracted I've been to someone in the last twenty-seven years. I hear the metal clinking of her shoes and her hand around my wrist stops me. “Y/N, hang on.”

“Hmm?”

“Would it…” she begins, pausing for a moment to collect her thoughts. The fact that she might have doubts, too, comforts me greatly. It doesn't have to be a serious thing so fast, right? “Would it be okay if I kissed you?”

She's asking me for consent. That makes my stomach flutter with butterflies. I look up at her with puppy eyes and nod, ears drawing back in fluster. “Yeah. Yeah, it would.”

In account of our height difference, I get on my tip toes and she tilts her head down, hand cupping my face before she gently locks lips with me. The kiss is soft, tentative, and I can sense she hasn't done this in a while either. Since she has two daughters and a company, she probably doesn't have much time for a relationship, which is cool because to be honest, casual is the best I can do right now. My tail swishes up to rest on her waist and I feel the shiver that runs up her spine when the fluffy brown tuft brushes against her lower back. When we pull back, our cheeks are flushed and her eyes are still closed for a second longer than mine. “That was nice.”

“Yeah… it was.”

There's a moment of pause where we're just looking in each other's eyes, and then in a split second, like magnets attracting each other with unbelievable force, we lunge at each other until our lips collide, this time more aggressively as our tongues slide against each other and a few soft noises escape both of us.

˚₊‧ ꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

♪ You and the Vees are inane and uninformed

Smug wannabes who don't need when you've been warned ♪

Her voice pulls me from my thoughts once again and my focus zeroes back in on the meeting, ears once again pulling back at how beautiful she looks. I love how the black and white strands of hair flop and curl over her forehead like that. It looks so cute.

♪ Oops, did I strike a nerve?

‘Cause when I brought out the angel's head

Couldn't help but observe

That your wrinkled face was turning red ♪

The way Velvette keeps attacking Carmilla like that makes my blood boil. Does she have any idea what kind of allegation this is - regardless of whether or not it's true? It's really grave to accuse someone of murdering an angel, and an Overlord no less. I hate the way she's getting under her skin. I see how her teeth are gritted and her nails dig into the table, the way her glare is piercing and frustrated, how her body almost twitches. It makes my ears droop with sadness, yet they pull back immediately when Velvette starts getting closer. My posture tenses and my tail stiffens with each step forward she takes, teeth baring as well as my pupils slit once again.

♪ And why are you avoiding war?

That's what the guns you sell are for

Thanks to my being respectless

One thing I'm starting to suspect is

You know why this angel's headless

Do you have a disclosure? ♪

♪ This meeting's over! ♪

While the two are standing nose to nose, the rest of the Overlords and I are just giving dead stares and grimaces, the pause giving way to an awkward silence as my eyes seem unable to break off from Carmilla, who has genuinely never looked so hot before. Okay, stop it. Not the time. “Hmm, fine. Safe travel back to the nursing home, fuckers. Kiss my ass.”

“What the hell? We literally just got here.”

“Mother?” Odette utters softly, and Carmilla gestures for us to follow her in response.

The three of us follow her to her office and the girls sit on the two chairs in front of her desk while I lean against the wall beside the windows and the coffee table, watching with a small frown as Carmilla mutters something in Spanish and pours herself a drink, but then ends up drinking from the bottle. I rest a hand on her arm and look at her with big puppy eyes, noticing how she seems to relax a bit under my touch, and a weak smile appears on her face. “You okay?”

“Fine.” She replies softly and caresses my cheek with her hand for a second before letting it drop to her side, but we both know that she's not fine. As a rattling sound that we recognize as Zestial makes us turn our heads to the door, watching him come into the room.

“Carmilla, what troubles thou? Losing thy composure is unlike thee.”

“It's nothing, Zestial, really.”

“The felled angel… t'was by thy hand, was it not?”

“Let's not talk about it.” I'm looking at her intently enough to see the same flicker of guilt that passed through her eyes when it was brought up in the meeting and I wordlessly questioned her about it. Whether it's guilt for murdering a soul or keeping this from Zestial and I, I'm not sure, but I don't get why she'd keep this to herself. She could have told me, I would have helped her.

“Mom… maybe they should know.” Clara says gently, which makes my ears twitch in her direction. The three of them know what happened, but we don't.

“Nobody should know!” Carmilla says, slamming her palms on the desk and taking her seat. Whatever happened, it sounds like it's something that's taking quite a toll on her. My ears droop at the thought. She doesn't have to go through it all on her own, she's got us. “I did what I had to do. I'm not discussing this.”

I want to go over there and comfort her, I really do, but maybe I should let them have a moment. They're a family, after all, and had she not invited me in, I would have either stayed outside or gone back to the hotel.

♪ What weighs on your soul, old friend?

I implore you to share the load

If it was thou who slew the angel

Why not let your strength be known? ♪

I'm not sure why I'm frustrated with her keeping this from me. I have no right to be, anyway, and for a series of reasons. First off, I'm keeping a gigantic secret from her myself, most definitely bigger than hers. And second, we have a more casual relationship, we're not even girlfriends yet, I can't really expect her to be comfortable sharing this with me. But I guess I'm upset I didn't know sooner because this is about my home, my loved ones. This is a risk to them, and I'd give anything for them to be safe.

♪ I always thought

That I would keep blood off my face

But when that thing attacked

I had to act

To cross that line and keep them safe ♪

She killed in self defense. That's completely reasonable. She killed to protect her daughters. But they were out on extermination day alone? Why didn't they call me for help? I would have gone down there in the chaos if it meant protecting them. I would have risked being found out if it meant protecting them. But one thing I dislike is how angels are dehumanized here. It's like we're animals to them, which from their point of view is fair, but not all angels are like that. The exorcists might be, but not all of them. Not all of us.

♪ But if anyone knew

Then all of hell would rise to war

And who's to say who'd survive the fray?

I might lose the ones I was killing for ♪

♪ So I

I'll be your keeper

Do whatever it takes

I'll make the mistakes

I'll keep you safe and keep this secret ♪

The way she hugs her daughters, the way they look up at her with affection and gratitude, it makes my heart warm as a smile comes to my lips. And the fact that she lifts her head to look at me for a moment during that last sentence makes me feel so cared for, even just for a second.

˚₊‧ ꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

It doesn't take long for us to find refuge in her room, all alone and under the cozy lighting of the evening. Because the girls are out for the night, Carmilla seems to feel much more loose and free with her movements and actions, testified by how she pulls me in for a kiss milliseconds after I close the door behind us. My hands fly to her cheeks and I get on my tiptoes to reciprocate the kiss better, squeaking in surprise when she picks me up and carries me to the bed. She breaks the kiss and sets me down on the mattress, then sits beside me and kicks off her ballet slippers. I do the same with my own shoes and crawl to sit behind her, wrapping my arms around her waist and giving her a gentle squeeze as I litter kisses on her bare shoulders. I can feel the tension leaving her body when I hug her, then nuzzle my nose into the crook of her neck and give it a gentle bite before trailing kisses up the side of her neck and under her ear, using my tail to tease her by looping it around her side and tickling her chin with the tuft. “You need some help distracting yourself, cielo?”

“Mhm, is that okay?” She replies softly, hands undoing the neatly tied up hair to let it down. The sweet scent of her perfume and shampoo almost makes me dizzy as the black and white waterfall cascades beside me, nose nuzzling into the soft fluffy hair as I inhale its smell with a sigh.

“Of course it's okay. Just lie down for me, yeah? I'll take care of you, hermosa.” I purr as she obeys and lies back on the bed for me. My terms of endearment for her used to be in English before I asked her to teach me some in Spanish. I knew a few already, but I wanted her to tell me which ones she likes, and after I gained more confidence with the words, I started calling her those - and a few of my own as well.

I crawl on top of her and pull her in for another kiss, hands roaming up and down her sides before beginning to fiddle with the buttons on her shirt. My lips trail down her jaw, neck and collarbone as I undo the last button without looking, relying only on familiarity and basking in the soft sighs of pleasure that she lets out at my soft kissing and nipping. I lift her shirt over her head and smile down at her, connecting our lips once more as my hands gently cup her breasts. She gasps softly into my mouth at the contact and I feel her chest rising and falling under my touch, her breaths soft and slowly increasing in speed. I break the kiss to attach my lips to her nipple and swirl my tongue around it before lapping at it, relishing in the soft moans that escape her mouth. Her hands rest at the base of my neck as her head leans back against the pillow, the warmth of her touch giving me the urge to pleasure her right. The touch of her hands on either side of my neck feels familiar, it reminds me of-

No, don't you fucking dare.

I open my eyes to meet her ruby ones and focus on her face, contorting with pleasure when I switch my mouth to her other breast. “Mhm- ahh, Y/N…”

Sliding between her spread legs, I make a trail of kisses down her stomach until I reach the waistband of her spiked skirt, then pull it down her legs along with her black pantyhose. The sight of the glistening precum between her legs makes me shiver, pupils dilating with hunger before I delve my tongue into her folds, tail stiffening at the taste. My ears twitch at the wonderful sound of the sharper moan that falls from her lips at the pleasure and her fingers tangle into my mane, tugging and ruffling at the golden tuft as she grinds her pussy on my face to look for further stimulation. Her back arches off the mattress when I wrap my lips around her sensitive clit and gently suck on it, her louder mewls sending waves of arousal to my pulsating core. “Oh, fuck… oh, that's good, amor, don't stop…”

I'm not even planning to.

To make the sensations even more intense, I tease a finger to her entrance before sliding it inside, stomach flipping as her tight walls clench around my digit. She moans my name with a gasp, squirming on the bed as her hand reaches for mine and clasps it tightly. I remember how Lute started doing that once she got more comfortable, letting the roughness and passion give say to more tender moments once in a while.

No, wait, what am I doing?

Stop. Now.

Don't do that. It can never end well.

I stick another digit inside her and push both of them deeper, the pads of my fingers hitting the spongy spot that makes her body arch as she lets out a loud cry of blissful pleasure and her fingers tighten in my mane. “I'm almost there, almost- ah, fuck…!”

To help her get there, I piston my fingers inside her with more force and let go of her hand to rub circles on her clit, giving it a gentle smack and watching as she comes undone. The way her hand claws at the bed sheets, the arch of her back, her face contorted with white-hot pleasure as her moaning turns slightly higher in pitch.

As soon as she relaxes on the bed, I crawl up to her and kiss her on the lips, then leave gentle kisses on her temple and cheek, soft purrs escaping me as my hand brushes away the hair sticking to her forehead. “Better, mi ninfa?”

She smiles at me and chuckles softly, nodding as she wraps her arms around me and brushes my mane back into place with her fingers, “Much better. But now it's your turn, come here.”

“Hey, come on, you don't have to. You had a long day, just have some rest.” I coo, kissing her forehead and caressing her cheek. She must be tired out from the meeting and the stress and all. Or maybe we should stop before I do or say something stupid and fuck this up.

“I'm not tired, I can take another round.” She replies and sits up on her elbows, looking at me with a little smirk. I know that face, she's up to something. She's not at all shy when it comes to trying new things in bed, but as it turns out, it's something I've tried before. Her hand reaches into her drawer for something that I assume is a toy but when I see it, my ears and tail perk up in recognition. Is that a strap? “Do you wanna try this?”

The first time I tried this was with Lute, and pretty early on in our relationship. She'd fuck me with it as often as she could, she'd always put aside a bit of time every day just to rail me, and man, did we get noise complaints from her neighbors. “Yeah, why not?”

She smiles and gives me a quick peck on the lips, then we switch places and she starts putting on the strap while I undo my bow tie and take off the rest of my clothes. Once I'm laid out on the bed and bare before her, she lies on top of me and bends down to capture my lips in a passionate kiss while she teases the tip to my entrance. The familiar sensation draws a small gasp from me, letting out a softer moan as she starts to push it further inside. More moans and babbles fall from my lips at the familiarity of being half-filled like this, panting and whimpering out, “M- More… please, more- ahh…”

Carmilla chuckles and rests a hand on my lower stomach for leverage as she bottoms out, pausing to wait for my go ahead. Shit, I forgot how good this feels. I give her a weak nod and let my head lull back against the pillow, eyes fluttering shut as I wrap my legs around her and lock my ankles on her lower back. My head becomes a bit fuzzy with the intense sensations that are only enhanced when she snaps her hips forward and back before bottoming out again, setting a slow and gentle pace. A string of moans, whines and curses spills from my lips as my hands grip the bed sheets tightly, a bead of sweat trickling down my temple, “Please… please, harder… mommy, please…”

The word makes her stop for a moment, my confused eyes meeting her lust-blown ones before I realize what I just called her.

Damn it.

“What did you just call me?”

“Mommy- mmph!”

Before I can even finish speaking, she pulls out and manhandles me onto my stomach, this time intruding my pussy with much more haste and aggressively pounding me from behind. I've never seen her like this, so animalistic, so rough. Her hands gripping my hips, the sound of our skin slapping together, the tip of the plastic dick hitting just the right spot each time with flawless precision, it all makes them blur together. The mental image of her porcelain skin and her snowy white hair bouncing above her shoulders, her golden eyes flashing with desire and adoration, the warmth of her body, muscular and delicate at the same time intrudes my mind at the best yet worst of times and it's too clear to get it out. It's her flawless hips and her calloused hands gripping me when she fucks me, it's her wings unfurling and flapping with the effort, it's her lips leaving hickeys on my shoulder when I cry tears of overstimulation. And with an unexpected rough pull of my tail, a high-pitched moan is ripped from my throat as the orgasm washes over me like a tidal wave and I cry out,

“Lute!”

˚₊‧ ꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

God, what the hell did I just do?!

Lute.

I said Lute.

I cried out another woman's name during sex.

“Carmilla, wait-” I begin as I button up my shirt with haste, following her out into the hall of the mansion and reaching out to touch her arm. I knew there was nothing I could say to make her feel better, but I had to try.

"Don't." She warns, hurt etched across her face, which made me retract my hand, ears drooping with resignation. It breaks my heart to see her like this. Damn it, I screwed this up forever. How could I have been so dumb? “I've always known you had issues, but if you were in love with someone else, why didn't you end things with me?"

"I- I didn't even know, I-” I sigh mid-sentence, tears stinging my eyes. How would I even explain this to her? “Look, it's... complicated. I used to date this person 30 years ago, and now she thinks I'm dead. I just- I saw her by accident last week, and it just came crashing back."

"She thinks you're what? I don't understand...” she squints her eyes, hands on her hips as she gazes at me with bewilderment. I can't tell this to her, it's too risky.

"It's really complicated, just drop it." I say and turn away for a moment, taking a few steps down the hallway. I can't tell her, what's the point anyway? You can't change the past. It's not going to change anything, and most definitely not for the better. It's going to kill our relationship. No, no, I can't lose another person. She's the only one that affirms me and is there for me at any moment of need. And I just hurt her feelings.

Carmilla grabs my wrist to stop me, crimson eyes flashing with heartbreak, bafflement and something akin to anger. I don't blame her, I never could, to be honest. I'd hate me, too. "Y/ N, you just called me another woman's name while we were having sex. I deserve to know about her."

"It's better for the both of us if you don't know."

"Y/N, just talk to me!"

"No!" I swiftly turn around and snap at her, ripping my hand from her grip. A soft slicing noise and a pang of pain drags across the back of my hand and I cry out, covering the wound with my other hand while my entire face pales.

Oh, shit.

My blood.

Oh, no, no, no, no, no, fuck, no, this cannot be happening to me!

It's over, the relationship is definitely over now.

Carmilla gasps and looks at the angelic blades on the wall, the distress in her eyes mellowing into concern. That sends a stab of guilt in my heart. She's angry with me but she still cares about me enough to worry when I'm in pain. God, she's going to loathe me if she sees. She reaches her big, soft hand out and murmurs a gentle, "Let me see.”

"No, it's fine. I'm fine." I flinch back like a startled cub and hold my hand close to my chest, terrified of her seeing the golden blood. I hate this. I hate this so, so, so, so much.

"Y/N, that's a dangerous weapon. Let me see the wound." She presses, gently gripping my forearm and trying to pry it away from my chest, to which I apply resistance and take a few wobbly steps back as my tail tucks between my legs. She can't know, she just can't. She'll turn away from me forever. She wouldn't be wrong in doing so, but I would be shattered if she did.

"No, please don't."

"Y/N-"

She pulls my hand from my chest and her scarlet eyes land on the golden liquid cascading down my hand, beautiful face morphing into an expression I hate with every fiber of my being. Pain, confusion, betrayal, fear. The way her eyes drop, the way her eyebrows crease, the way her lips part with shock. The color drains from my skin and my eyes fill with tears, choosing to stay silent for now. Her mouth opens and closes repeatedly, she has no idea what to say. And what can she say? What do you say when the person you're dating lies about where they come from?

I stifle a sob and wait for her to say something, anything. What is there to say? I might not be able to take this much longer.

God, I just want to vanish right now. My legs, arms and body tremble violently as I struggle to make eye contact with her, shifting the muscles in my back to wrap my wings around myself... except I don't have wings anymore. "You... you're an angel...?"

"I used to be." I reply, sniffing softly and roughly wiping the tears from my eyes, angry at myself for letting them fall, for not watching myself with the weapon, for letting Lute's name slip.

"You're no exorcist. You can't even touch a weapon." She thinks aloud, slightly shaky from the shock. I don't want to tell her more about my past, but am I really in the position to ask her for favors? I lied to her, I broke her heart, I didn't treat her right, I never did. This is less than fair to her. "What are you, then? Archangel?"

"Seraph." I sigh, ears drooping as I look up at her like a cub that's been kicked, but not to try to sway her or get my way. I don't even know what my way would be. To be honest, I'm just hoping she won't leave, but at this point, even that seems like too much to ask for.

When did things get so complicated?

A breath of disbelief puffs from her lips and she runs a hand through her hair, trying to make sense of the situation. I can't even begin to imagine the thoughts running through her head right now, the questions she must have, the pain she must be in. "That glow you have, how you're never around after extermination day... those six... bumps on your back...”

I sniff and look to the side in shame, shrinking myself into my shoulders as if to hide myself from her. I tried to protect my family, I tried to protect the love of my life, my philtatē, and failed so horribly. I got my wings torn off my back, I got ruined for it. A Seraph whose family didn't even know where she was. But she thinks I'm a bad angel. An evil one that just cares about herself.

“And Lute... as in Adam's second-in-command Lute?" She asks, tears beading up in the corners of her eyes as she came to so many realizations. My ears go flat against my head as I force myself to look her in the eyes. It's the least she deserves. "You dated the lieutenant of the exorcist army?"

"Yeah... yeah, that's her.” I breathe, brushing the tears off my face and forcing myself to come to terms with it. The connection I had with Lute is unlike anything I've had in more than four billion years. The things I'd do to make her happy, to keep her safe and well. I'd give anything to be able to spend the rest of my life with her and give her anything that would make her happy... but it's not the life we're meant to have. And because of some stupid dream I built up in my head that's destined to go unfulfilled, I hurt a person that actually wants me and cares about me. I took her for granted and hurt her feelings.

"Were you ever going to tell me about all this?" She asks as tears bead up in the corners of her eyes. Why did I have to go and make her face look like that?

"Yes! Of course I was..."

"When?"

“…”

"..?"

"Um..."

"Ugh! I can't believe you!" She groans and whips around to walk down the hallway and I dash to follow after her, reflexively reaching out for her wrist, but then I stop and let my hand drop to my side. She doesn't want me to touch her.

“You want to talk about keeping secrets? What about the exorcist you killed?” I reply, my own frustrations bleeding through the argument as my ears draw back. I'm completely in the wrong and I know it, but the stubborn part of me can't help but want to argue with her. Good going, dipshit.

“Oh, please, don't even pretend you care about us. I saw the look on your face when you saw the angel's head. I know you recognized her, and I know you only care because you're selfish!” She yells back, pointing a finger to my chest, and glaring down at me with a venom that makes my stomach churn, but the accusation makes me so much angrier.

Selfish? I severed my bond with my older sister in an attempt to protect Lucifer and then lost it altogether when I tried to clean up her mess. I tried to do the right thing and protect my baby sister, to protect the woman I love from this crackpot idea that all sinners should die, and instead I lose everything I ever cared about. She doesn't truly know what selfish means if she's got the gall to call me that. “Selfish?! Is that what you think?!”

“Yes, that's precisely what I think!”

I take a few steps closer to her to stand almost a breath away, close enough to speak right in her face, and grit out, “If I were truly as selfish and petty as you think, I would have been grateful to see that bitch's head on your table, because her and her buddies are the reason I couldn't show my face anywhere near the army for being queer. That woman held me down while the other ones ripped out my wings. They're homophobic assholes who deserve to die, but I wasn't thinking of them, I was thinking about my family. I have people I'd die for, too - because I did - so don't lecture me about selfishness and secrecy when you don't know anything about me and especially when you did the exact same thing.”

I don't like talking about these things, in fact I hate to do so, and I can't believe that the first time I'm opening up to her is to win an argument. While I was defending myself, I didn't even realize when tears started streaming down my face, but I can feel my cheeks wetting now. I hate this so much. How did I even get in this situation in the first place? It could be so much simpler if I'd just done so many things differently. But you can't change the past.

“You're right. I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said that.” She seems to have deflated a lot, despite her posture still being tense. She genuinely regrets calling me selfish, I can see it in her eyes, but she's still really angry with me, and I honestly don't blame her. “But that still doesn't justify the fact that you called me another woman's name. If I'm not your person, that's fine, but you shouldn't have led me on like that!”

"Carmilla, listen, no one hates me more than I do right now-"

"Are you so sure about that?"

I grimace and my ears go flat against my head. That stings, but I had it coming. The way she turns around with crossed arms and looks down at me with that sneer of resentment, that quirked eyebrow and that expression of disgust, I never thought it would be directed at me. On second thought, she probably didn't either.

"You're right. I'm completely in the wrong, and I'm not trying to justify myself. No one hates me more than I do except for you. I wanted to tell you, I honestly did, but I was scared of this. I was scared you'd hate me and push me away. I was hung up on my dumb feelings and didn't take you seriously when you were the only one to care about me - and I know I have no right to say this, but I care about you, too - and I'm so, so, so sorry for doing this to you." I want to comfort her so much, to wipe her tears and reassure her that everything would be alright, but even if she'd ever let me touch her again, it wouldn't be true. It's far from alright. So instead I settle for asking the question I'm petrified of knowing the answer to. "Is there anything I can do to salvage this?"

Carmilla pauses for a few seconds - the longest eternity I've ever experienced in my pre-creational existence - and sighs, running a hand down her face to wipe her tears as her expression mellows back into the more raw, real one she had before. The sight makes my heart crumble to pieces: the way her eyes are so full of pain, how her cheeks glisten with her tears. And I'm the cause of it. I'm the reason.

"No."

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be-my-ally · 10 months ago

Text

I Feel The Earth Move

for the prompt: something weather related. (wow, a genius must have come up with that)

I, I don’t know how or when this turned into 5k (7k now), I truly don’t - take it from me, nothing happens in this fic, it is pure (somewhat domestic) fluff and smut. It’s also - well, this is probably the closest you could get to a peek inside my brain of my current favourite sleep/daydream fantasy - i.e it's just reader and elvis having a chat?

warnings: 18+, smut (of the gentle kind), slight body-negativity (from reader, about herself). Because this is fanfiction, suspend your disbelief and assume Elvis was allowed a day off during his November 1971 tour during which this fic takes place, and that Joyce isn’t available. Red being a bit of a dick. I change tenses about 12 times.

1971!Elvis x fem!reader – soft belly mentioned.

wc: 7.3k - idk enjoy my long descriptions of choosing pjs, and sitting around watching Elvis sit there.

(It's been so long since I posted a non-series fic, that I truly can't remember taglist info so here is a PSA to message me/comment if you want me to tag you in everything!)

Elvis had called you, unexpectedly, just a few days ago, to join him for the rest of the tour and though you’d found the whirlwind of movement and activity exciting you were already tired. You couldn’t imagine how Elvis himself must be feeling. So, you were grateful that you were stopping for a little while, even if it was just for the night. The town you’d ended up in wasn’t anything special, just a convenient stop-off for the brief rest before you all continued to the show the next night. The hours from the show the night before, and the following afternoon weren’t long enough of a break for anyone to go home and relax, but Elvis had been twitchy and anxious to do something else for the day, and you weren’t surprised to be told there was to be a new car delivered to the hotel to play around with.

When the new, shiny, black car had pulled up outside the hotel you’d stood beside him at the window, nodding as he pointed out specific features, ooh and aahing at the right moments, even though, as far as you could tell it looked much the same as the others you’d seen him drive. But it made him happy and that was what mattered. Elvis had grinned at you and curled an arm around your waist, asking you oh so nicely if you wouldn’t like to go out for a ride with him in it. He’d had a long week, it was all getting a bit much - the tour, and the travelling and he just wanted to feel normal for an evening - you get that right? You’d readily agreed once he’d hitched your shirt up to brush his thumb against your skin and whispered he wanted it to just be the two of you. You would have agreed regardless, truthfully you would have agreed to anything he suggested after having had the call, so unexpectedly out of the blue, to come and spend a few days with him; you wanted to make the most out of every second.

You soon live to regret that sentiment, however, as you hurry to the car with your arms wrapped around yourself. It’s freezing and, though it isn’t raining yet, the dark grey sky isn’t looking particularly friendly. Elvis starts to follow you down the motel steps after a few muttered words to the boys, but pauses for a moment - watching you rapidly trot to the car before disappearing back into one of the rooms. You watch, shivering from the passenger seat, hoping he won’t take too long when he appears a minute later, hurrying down the stairs himself, this time carrying a second of his coats - a short but thick suede and shearling jacket that he throws onto your lap before climbing in himself. He’s wearing a red suede coat that falls to his knees, and he’s forced to unbutton it to sit down in the car. He mutters to himself about it, as he stands back up before finally getting in and slamming the door shut. He glances over at you,

“Look - get that on ya now, there we are - I’ll, I’ll turn the heat on in a mo, once we’ve got her running.”

“Thank you,” You shoulder into the jacket gratefully, “I didn’t realise it was so cold.” He hums at you, twisting the ignition and sending the car purring to life. He grins at the engine noise, turning to look at you with boyish delight.

“Alright then, honey, let me show ya what this can do.” You squeal as he takes off, and he laughs as you grab at the handle while he wildly turns the first corner, calming down a little himself once he was on the open road. He sings along to the radio, The Temptations are playing, Just My Imagination, and he hums along to the words he doesn’t know, singing the ones he does. It’s absurdly endearing and you’re momentarily breathless getting to watch and hear him like this. You have no idea where you are, too distracted with watching him than the passing scenery. He’s so pretty in the early evening light, happy and relaxed. He taps his hand on the wheel to the beat, moving his head, turning to sing to you. You smile, overwhelmed but not wanting to scare him off and unsure how to respond, but he clearly understands your facial expression and appreciation, offering his palm up on your thigh for you to hold.

You drive in what feels like an endless combination of loops and “Which way looks exciting baby? You wanna go left or right here?” until, somehow, it’s been almost two hours and you were passing through a small town on the outskirts of the city, gaining more and more distance from the hotel. If you’d started to pay any attention to your surroundings you’d realise you were starting to recognise them.

The storm starts slowly, just a little rain, a grey cloud here and there, and Elvis ignores it as he drives, laughing when he drives through a forming puddle and splashing up the water onto the windows. Simply turning his radio up higher in response to the worsening rain patter. You’re showing him your fully choreographed dance routine to I Feel the Earth Move, and he laughs at your wiggles and shakes while you giggle performing it, signalling to the sky and emphasising the ‘tumbling down’ lyric that matches the downpour picking up.

Almost at once, as the rain increases in tempo, the car starts to slow, sputtering and shuddering to a halt. The radio keeps playing although you immediately reach out to turn it down,

“Uh… what, what’s happened?” You have no clue about cars, but you’re hopeful Elvis might have some idea. Elvis growls, trying to turn the ignition again, the car sputters but refuses to start.

“Fuck, fuck, just fuckin’ great man.” He slams his hands on the wheel in frustration, and you flinch, turning to look wide-eyed out into the rapidly darkening evening sky, stormy and intimidating, the rain falling into flowing streams down the road. Elvis tries again, yanking his glasses off like that might make a difference, but it just won’t start and though you really don’t want to annoy him any further, you have, while peering over at him, noticed something that might be related to your sudden lack of power.

“Um, El, is - is that the gas blinking at you?” Elvis lifts his head up from the wheel, frowning at the fuel indicator. He swears again,

“Fuckin’ piece of junk - it must be broken already! I swear, honey, it had a full tank when we left - didn’t, it gave me no ind’catshun it would do that.” He shakes his head, muttering about a hunk of junk new cars while the E continues to flash. You worry your bottom lip between your teeth,

“Uh, well, at least we know what the problem is,” You rack your brain for a solution, “We’ll just have to get one of the guys to run us some gas!”

“Yeah real smart idea, ‘cept we don’t have a phone.” You whirl around to look into the backseat but sure enough, no phone. “In the goddamn middle of nowhere,” He slaps the wheel again. You look out of the windows, realising with a start exactly where you were. You debate for a second if you should confess but the rain picks up again, hammering down even harder than before, and you realise you don’t have a choice. “Guess our only choice is to go knocking on some people’s doors.” He sighs, putting his head into his crossed arms on top of the wheel,

“We-e-ell, not quite.” He rolls his head to peek at you,

“What d’ya mean?” You blink at him,

“Uh, my house is right around here. Just - just a little past that next corner.” Elvis sits fully upright, mouth agape, with a furrow forming in his brow,

“Your house? Around that corner?” You nod, anxious that he’s about to be mad that you hadn’t told him. He side-eyes you suspiciously,

“Thought you were from…uhhh, wasn’t it, uh, Louisville?”

“Well - yes and no, that’s where I go to college - my parent’s house is right around that corner ‘s only about another, I don’t know - maybe a 20 minute walk?” Elvis looks at you a little strangely again, but after he looks up at the sky, he nods.

“We’ll have to make a break for it I guess. Not quite how I planned the evenin’ - your folks be ok witchyou bringin’ me home?” You nod,

“Course! And, well, they’re visiting my aunt at the moment up in Chicago anyway - she’s just had another baby.” He pauses looking at you questioningly,

“And you didn’t wanna go? Don’t women like babies?” You roll your eyes,

“God, no I didn’t want to go! What can they do at that age anyway?” He frowns like he’d wanted to protest your point, but then realises he can’t deny it’s true, “I’ll go and see her when she can stand and look at me - and, well, I, I, I had plans made by then anyhow.” He grins at you and pleased that he liked your plan you continue,

“I can’t promise the fridge’ll be stocked, but there should be something we can eat in the pantry while we wait for the guys, and obviously we can use the phone -“ Elvis shakes his head, eyes bright,

“Yep, needta tell ‘em where we are, wouldn’t want them sending out a search party but…” He makes a show of peering out of the window, leaning forward, “You know, I wouldn’t want to make any of ‘em come out in this.” You blink at him, it was a bad storm, sure, but it would be a push to call it undriveable, “I s’pose we may as well stay the night.” He pats your thigh and you stare at him for a second, processing, before nodding.

“I suppose that does make an awful lot of sense. It wouldn’t be right for them to get stuck out here too…”

“Be nice to spend the night alone with you, baby.” He winks, nodding at the door, “Whenever you’re ready, hon, lead the way, I’ll follow you.”

You’re both soaked through by the time you reach the little front porch. Although your matching suede jackets had done the job of keeping some of the rain off, you had had still been out in the rain for a little too long - it had been a rapid walk, or slow jog for about fifteen minutes before you’d reached civilisation, frantically picking up the pace as thunder started to rumble overhead, for the last few minutes of dashing to your street. You scramble under the little decorative frog on the top step for the spare key, desperately hoping your mother hadn’t decided to move it while they were away. You hold it up triumphant, oblivious to the way the moonlight was reflecting off your blouse under Elvis’ open jacket, the rain making the white totally see through. Elvis grins at you encouragingly, and you open the door with a flourish, allowing you both to tumble into the empty house. You slam the door shut, leaning against it, dripping wet, to watch Elvis look around curiously and you anxiously begin to fill the silence.

“Um, I don’t know what clothes I have here - but, I definitely have something and I’ll bring down something for you, uh, you’ll probably have to wear my father’s pyjamas, and he’s a touch bit bigger than you, but we have a dryer!”

“Thank you sweetheart, that’s mighty kind of you -“

“So, I can get your clothes dried for you.” Elvis is looking at you with bemusement, and you can feel yourself rambling, and you force yourself to take a breath before continuing, “I’ll have to check if daddy’s left the water on - we might have to make do without a shower, but I’ve got plenty of blankets to warm us up instead.”

“Sounds great - I’m sure that’ll -“

“So if you just -“ you gesture to the kitchen doorway, “-I won’t be a minute, help yourself to anything you like. The phone’s just on the wall there if you wanna call the hotel.” You sprint up the stairs, furious with yourself for the rising panic you were starting to feel - what were you thinking. You were an adult, you could cope with this. You could deal with Elvis Presley. In your house. With nothing prepared.

You take a deep breath, forcing yourself to calm down, trying to think straight, right. First things first, you head into your parent’s room, quickly finding an inoffensive pair of button down pyjamas for Elvis to wear, and you’re about to take them down the stairs when you’re suddenly made aware of the sticking sensation of your wet skirt to your legs - Elvis must be soaked through too, so you detour to the bathroom to fetch him a towel, shouting down to him,

“El! Here ya go!” He appears at the bottom of the stairs, looking up at you with some amusement, as he tries to catch your particularly terrible throw. Clearly he doesn’t normally have his clothes thrown at him from above and it makes you laugh watching him flounder on the opposite side of his stage scarf dynamic for once.

“ ‘re you not coming down, baby?”

“Um, I’ll be down in just a second! Just leave your stuff on the table and I’ll run it down to the dryer in a bit!”

“Uh, well, sure thing, honey, thank you.” A moment or so later you can hear the clinking of what hopefully wasn’t too many firearms in your house as he gets undressed and then his murmuring voice as he speaks to someone on the phone.

You really didn’t have much by way of clothes still in this house, and even less that you would consider acceptable to wear with Elvis Presley in the room. You stare into your drawer for a little too long, willing for another choice to appear. Such magic powers are, apparently, beyond you however so there’s just the two options; a little chiffon babydoll set you’d left behind because it was now pretty much indecent, or a gingham flannelette set complete with embroidered teddy bear on the pocket. On the one hand the little babydoll set was pretty cute, but you were also freezing and warm cotton sounded appealing to your damp skin - but was being so bundled up really the image you wanted to give off to Elvis? He’d never seen you in anything but your very, very, carefully chosen outfits. You start to unbutton your shirt, determined you’d just have to freeze for the sake of fashion but as soon as the cool breeze hits your damp skin you change your mind, rapidly rubbing yourself down with a towel and changing into the snug flannelette of your winter pyjamas. When you come bouncing down the stairs he’s stood waiting for you, and you pause near the bottom, suddenly uncertain. He grins at you, reaching up to lift you down the last step, placing you right in front of him.

He’s taken his glasses off, tucked them into the breast pocket of the shirt, and clearly had been trying to tame his wet, lightly curling hair, into some semblance of order, the newly long shagginess pushed back against his ears. The borrowed PJs swamp his frame, Elvis is far slimmer than your father, and when you look him over you have to stifle a giggle. The pants ending about two inches too short and stopping far above his delicate ankles and bare feet. He looks down at them himself, following your eyes, and where at home he might have been self-conscious, here he takes it in his stride, smiling back at you with his eyes sparkling.

“Think I oughta wear this on stage?” He points his toes and you giggle, shaking your head, and gesture to the living room.

“I don’t know... I think we’d make a good looking pair.” You pose with your hands on your hips, blowing him a kiss,

“Uh-huh, sure, ‘specially with your lil’ bear there.” He flicks at the pocket on your chest and you blush,

“They’re warm!” He grins, pushing back his hair,

“They sure look it, you look snug as a bug.” He grabs your waist, pulling you into him. He presses a kiss to the top of your head and you melt into his hold for a moment, before he pulls away, peering into the living room. You gesture,

“Feel free to sit anywhere.” Elvis looks around before walking over and settling in the armchair, resting his ankle on his knee. You anxiously consider your options before settling onto the couch, feeling silly for being nervous in your own home. It’s silent for a moment, well, somewhat - Elvis humming to himself as he continues to look around - assessing the bookshelves, before he finally speaks up;

“Don’t suppose you have any smokes ‘round here?” You shake your head apologetically,

“No - My da-” Before you suddenly remember that you do, and go running off up the stairs, hoping you were right. You come sliding back down, socks slipping on the stairs much to Elvis’ amusement as you come racing back in, but he says nothing and gratefully accepts a proffered cigarette from the box you hold out.

“Sorry, daddy doesn’t have any cigars - he doesn’t smoke.” You add on, as if otherwise you might have been embarrassed at not having any to offer. He shrugs,

“S’ok, I don’t mind.” You go to put the box away and he shakes his head,

“Jus leave it there - s’alright? Don’t of’fen smoke ‘em now-a-days but when I do, I uh, I’ll have a few.” He pauses as if remembering his manners, “If that’s alright?”

“Oh of course - by all means.” You hand it back to him, sinking back down into the couch. He leans back, the picture of ease, studying you, a glint in his eye,

“They your mama’s? I’ll replace ‘em.”

“Oh no, she doesn’t either,”

“You forget where you’d hidden them or somethin’?” He says it delicately, and you can feel him teasing you - like he already knows. You inwardly cringe in embarrassment,

“Uh, well, my parents didn’t like me to smoke - neither of them do, they’re not - they’re from before I went away, obviously, they were in my dresser still.” He grins at your bashfulness,

“Sensible. I wouldn’t let my little gal smoke none either.” He offers you the box, and you shake your head at his gall at offering you your own belongings, but still take one, letting him light it for you. You sit for a moment, but the silence drags, and it gets all too much for you all too fast. You get up to turn on the television, but the signal keeps dropping no matter what you try to do, and eventually Elvis says,

“Oh, look honey, just give it up - you gotta have somethin’ else we can put on? Look there’s your records over there,” He points to the player on the sideboard, and you readily agree. He sighs, pushing up to his feet and coming to stand next to you, crouching down to cast a judgemental eye over the collection. He pats your shoulder, pointing to what he wanted on, and you immediately obey.

You sit back down, just for a second, before you realise you were starving. “Are you hungry?” You don’t even give Elvis the possibility to respond before you continue, “Sorry, silly question - I won’t be a minute, I’ll see what I can come up with.” You disappear, rummaging through the cupboards to compile as much of a meal as possible,

“Well, there’s not much…” You bring in the tray, “But there’s pop-tarts!” Elvis looked it over, laughing -

“Jeez honey, you got anything not rolled in sugar?” You blush,

“Well sure but, it’s - I’m not a great cook Elvis,” He laughs, reaching over to grab a handful from the nuts you’d found, “Besides - there’s really not much here.”

“Nah, nah, this is great honey, truly, great.” You hand him a cup of hot cocoa, and he’s just as pleased with that as with his tray of exceedingly random snacks, and you settle on the floor by his feet with a deck of cards. He plays with your hair as you shuffle, swearing as the intimate moment is wrecked by your yelp at the strands catching on his chunky ring.

Once you’re untangled you suggest gin, and you play for a couple of rounds, putting up with Elvis somehow winning every time before he sighs as if bored, picking up a book your father had left on the side. He opens it up, glancing at the pages, nodding in pleasure,

He whistles, “Whoo, boy, your daddy’s got good taste - c’mon up here and I’ll read to you, baby.” You scramble up to clamber onto his lap, squealing as he tugs you onto him more than the chair, tucking your feet into the crease of the cushion and the arm and situating you into a comfortable position. You glance at the cover, internally groaning, it’s a WWII history, and you’d really rather not at this time of the night, but it’s harmless enough to let him drone on above you, his delicate cadence and deepening voice gentle on your ears. You don’t realise you’ve drifted off until he nudges you,

“You’re not paying attention.” You wiggle your toes, yawning,

“Sorry, sorry I am, ‘m just warm.” He snorts,

“You were snoring,” You blush,

“I don’t snore,” Elvis pokes your side as he laughs, nodding his head at you,

“Oh, sure you do.” You frown - about to protest some more but he cuts you off before you can, “I think, I’ve gotta leave for the show in, uh, ‘bout eight hours, so prolly need to get some sleep.” It had gotten quite late, and while you wouldn’t admit to snoring, you had been asleep, so you readily agree.

You hadn’t really thought about the sleeping arrangement past taking him up the stairs with you, just assuming you’d be in together - like you were at Graceland, or in the hotel but stood in the doorway of your bedroom with Elvis now you weren’t so sure. You have no idea what it is about your teenage bedroom making you feel nervous again, you’re an adult - you’ve spent more than enough nights in Elvis’ bed and yet for some reason you feel like you’re sixteen again, nervously sneaking a boy upstairs.

He peers around you to investigate the room, assessing the floral wallpaper and curtains. He brushes past you to take a closer look, turning in a circle. You watch his brow furrow as his eyes land on the glossy magazine pages surrounding your mirror. It’s as if he can’t stop himself, nodding with self satisfaction as he puts the image of George Harrison face down onto your dressing table. He doesn’t seem to have the same issue with the images of his younger self.

“Uh well, here we are. I guess if you have in here, I’ll go downstairs - or, I’ll go into my parents room.” He whirls around at your suggestion,

“No, no, wanna stay with my girl in her bed, y’can’t leave me all on my lonesome inna new place; I might sleepwalk right outta here!” You shake your head, tummy flipping, even as you smile at his vehemence.

“Well sure, but,” You gesture to the bed, “I forgot about this.” He frowns looking over at your pink, ruffled bed.

“Forgot about what? ‘S not got clean sheets or something, honey?”

“No, No, of course they’re clean!” Elvis smirks at your immediate outrage, “It’s just it’ll be uh…cosy. I forgot how small the - well, it’s not quite a full” You brace yourself for a second after you say it, forgetting that you’re not on the road with the boys at the moment, you’re in your home and he knows that. Knows that even if the situation would have normally caused him to pitch a fit he wouldn’t here. Here and now he’ll be on his best behaviour, and if you accuse him of acting any differently he’d deny it with a twinkle in his eye. You imagine how ridiculously polite he would be had your parents been home; “Why, this must be your sister! Thank you for having me over, I know it’s a real impo’sitshun.” and “Yes ma’am, you have a lovely home.” all, “No ma’am I wouldn’t rather be anywhere else.” and of course why yes, he is a good southern boy. Although, if they had been, he probably wouldn’t be squeezing into your bed with you. Still that was probably unfair, he really had been on his absolute best behaviour all evening.

“Cozy is a-ok with me, baby, y’don’t mind me getting real close do ya now?” He takes a step closer to the bed, patting the covers.

“No, no but I - you’re used to, god your bed must be four times this - are you going to be able to sleep?” You ask, concerned, and he shrugs,

“Prolly not - truth be told, but I don’t have my med’cation either. Hadn’t expected to be out very long.” Oh, of course. You frown continuing,

“Oh - maybe it would be better then if we split up - it probably is too small for the both of us.” He shakes his head,

“No, no, come sit over here now, listen here and I’ll tell you somethin’.” He pats the bed and you perch onto the side of it, watching him talk, “When I was little - just you know,” he gestures to his knees to indicate his height, “Momma an’ I used to share a bed that I’m pos-i-tive was small’r than this one.” He sits down next to you, leaning back on an arm to better look over it.

“With your Mama?”

“Yeah, yeah, we were - lord, we were poor as anythin’ and we just didn’t have no spare money for beds or, anything- and the like; while daddy was away ‘specially.” You didn’t know any of this,

“Oh. That must have been hard.” It’s hard to imagine him as anything less than the expensive, gaudy, generous man in front of you. But then, it does make sense - no-one who’s that giving comes from money.

“Well, you see, I s’pose I didn’t know any different - and I love my mother, I really do - did. That’s why I bought ma house, well, why I did everythin’ I suppose - it t’was all for her really.”

“Oh - that’s, that’s really lovely Elvis.” He nods, a little sadly, shrugging,

“Yeah, well, never mind. I know ‘s a little weird, but it weren’t anythin-” You interrupt his bashful commentary, hating the idea that this totally natural behaviour might be something he feels bad about.

“I was 12 before I could fall asleep by myself - my mom had to lay with me, or daddy hadta read to me - so you know I don’t think that’s weird at all El, ‘specially if you didn’t have room.”

“Yeah well, I was prolly a little too old by the time we could ‘ford a second bed, but it’s just like what you say - it weren’t anything strange.” You nod, pleased he seems less embarrassed. And wasn’t that just a wild thought - that Elvis might be the one embarrassed in your childhood bedroom.

“Well, in any case, there’s no point being uncomfortable - maybe we should…maybe we should try my parents room?” Elvis shudders,

“Sorry doll nothing ‘gainst your folks, but uh I don’t much like the idea of bein’ uninvited into someone’s bed…” You nod, standing back up and starting to tug down the sheets,

“Well then, let’s give this a go…I’ll just go fetch the spare pillows.” He looks over at you incredulously,

“Honey, you can’t possibly think we need more pillows?” He gestures to the overstuffed bed, “I’m not even sure how you fit in there with all of them!” You giggle,

“I do!” You start to pull off the decorative ones, “Not these ones though - I don’t sleep with these, or those.” You point to the others, and he shakes his head as he joins you in throwing them onto the floor, leaving just the main pillows at the top. It still left five pillows though and Elvis shakes his head,

“You got an itty-bitty bed and enough cushions for ten!” You laugh, defending yourself,

“I just like to be cocooned!” You wriggle, as if imitating being wrapped up, and he laughs back at you, eyes crinkling as he watches you.

“Cocooned! Well, you won’t need them tonight, can just sit’ate your bitty self right by me.” You smile, and he settles the nerves that were starting to swirl in your tummy as you’d continued to prepare the bed for both of you. “Seriously though - how’d you fit all these in?” He stands back, hands on his hips trying to picture your usual sleeping arrangement.

“Well, I normally sleep on that one there, and then those two go on either side, and that one goes ‘tween my legs.” Elvis waggles an eyebrow, before placing the pillow you’d gestured to atop ‘his’ side of the bed.

“Oh! and a friend!” As you tossed another cushion to the floor, the stuffed bunny tucked between the pillows had gone flying, you flush red at the sudden swirl of guilt as you watch Clarissa hit the floor, “Who’s this?” You force yourself to be nonchalant,

“Oh Elvis - don’t tease me.”

“I’m not teasin’ honey, you tryin’ tell me it’s not got a name?” He picks her up,

“El, she’s no-one.” You shake your head,

“Aha! A girl bunny!” He holds her aloft, “She’s mighty cute!”

“Really - El, I don’t know how she got there again.” He sighs, tucking her under his own arm, whispering to her,

“She’s gonna let you sleep out in the cold, yeah-huh, you’re right, it’s not right. You jus’ wanna be warm and fuzzy too don’t ya.” Though your tummy clenches at his teasing, the way he continues to have her tucked into his armpit, carefully placing her into the bed when you climb in and tucking her back into his chest makes you feel some soft sort of way. You climb in too, a little tense at first. It’s not like you’re unused to sleeping next to him, but there’s usually just a few minutes of cuddling before he rolls away across the vast expanse of mattress. But today he holds you close, arm wrapped around - your face smushed to his chest, it’s a little strange, the combination of him smelling like your home and him. Not that he has a choice but to hold you close - if either of you tried to roll away, you’d go clear off the side of the bed.

“Goodnight Elvis,” You whisper, and he whispers it back to you, tucking his chin over your head. You try to settle your breathing, anxious to fall asleep as you feel his own breathing deepen as he settles in. He makes a little tutting noise a couple of times, and you worry you’re encroaching on his space, so you inch away, clinging onto the edge of the mattress.

“Where y’going baby?” He mutters into your ear, “C’mon back here.” He rolls you into him,

“Don’t wanna smother you.” He huffs a laugh, smoothing down your hair,

“Wanna be smothered by you.” He settles with a happy hum, kissing your head again, and you relax your breathing, trying to will yourself to sleep.

The way you’re tucked against him means every movement feels exaggerated, so when, a minute later he starts to kick his legs down you’re forced to just put up with the motion for a few moments - until it becomes a bit more vigorous;

“El - stop.” He doesn’t stop, continuing to kick at the bedding. “Elvis! You’re kicking all the blankets off of me.” The motion ceases, but less because of anything you said and more because he’s succeeded in shoving the sheets to the bottom of the bed. He throws himself back, laying there on his back and dramatically panting as if in relief at the temperature change. You shudder in the chilly air, “Elvis! You can’t possibly be too hot, it’s - it’s practically freezing out there!”

“You know I like it cool, hon.” You frown, tucking your knees up,

“Well yeah? But I’m freezing!” He rolls his eyes, but tugs the sheets back over you, leaving one of his legs out.

“There we are see, just cuz ‘m a gentleman.” He tugs you back to him, “Now, stop ya yabberin’ on and let me get some sleep.” You gasp in outrage -

“Stop yabberin’!! It was you! You were the - “ Elvis hushes you, play snoring in your ear, and you snort back at him, settling with your back against his chest. You’re starting to drift off a little, not quite there, but not truly awake either, when his hand, that had been gently stroking your shoulder moves down to your waist. He snuffles a kiss against your shoulder, pushing the collar of your pyjamas down. Your eyes fly open,

“Oh!” He hums behind you, pulling you closer and curling his arm across your abdomen. He mutters against your skin, whispering into your ear,

“You gotta be all riled up, baby - I sure am, can hardly stand it, lying here all close to you.” He’s breathy on the hard consonants, breath tickling your skin,”Just need you, honey, need you real bad.” Whether it was intentional or not it sends shivers of arousal down your spine, tummy flipping as the heat begins to pool. His hand toys with the bow on your waistband, “Bet you’re close unner there, huh? Bet you’re right and ready for me,”

“I’m - I’m…” You can’t think of anything past stuttering at him, but it doesn’t seem to bother him, and he moves his fingers to unbutton your shirt. It falls open, and he leans back just enough to pull it off - you allow him, docile as a doll and he returns to hug you, kissing your now naked back.

“Gonna warm you up now, don’t you go worryin’ bout that, get you all nice and hot.” You wriggle against him, unsure what to do with your hands besides clasp at the sheets, “Mmhmm, that’s right baby, bet you’re all slippery already honey, aren’t you?” You gasp,

“I think - I think so Elvis, god you’ve gotta touch me properly,” He giggles, slipping a hand into your cotton trousers. He brushes over the wiry hair there, gently twisting a curl with his finger. Stroking down, he rubs you with a single fingertip, between the seam of the trousers and your skin, and you rock into him, “El-Elvis, I swear, I’m good to go,” You can feel his smile against your skin,

“Uh-huh, sure are, aren’t you? Feels like satin down here, you got satin skin baby?” You gasp at how his fingers dance over you,

“What-whatever you say!” Elvis’ fingertips aren’t satin smooth against you, a gentle rough edge that cuts through the slipperiness of your slick folds enough to make your eyes flutter closed. He withdraws his other hand from where it had been curled around your shoulder, and a moment later you feel him against your back, tugging down his trousers and letting his already hard cock pop out. He rubs against you, almost as if inadvertently, and you arch your back with a moan, he wiggles himself down to better position himself, the whole while still gently petting you.

Your eyes re-open as he growls, pulling his hand out and away to rapidly tug down your bottoms, letting you kick them off to the bottom of the bed, before clutching at you and tugging you even closer. You lock gaze with the judgemental beads of Clarissa and gasp out a giggle before reaching out to knock her flying to the floor,

“I can’t - not with her watching.” Elvis laughs, the sound mixing into a groan as he presses into you. You’re wet enough for him to slide in, and the angle is gentle enough that you feel just the slightest hint of a stretch while he snugly fits in, rocking into you further and further.

It’s not a position you’re usually in, and though he can’t really see you, you feel more self-conscious than you have with him before. Elvis’ hands rove over your stomach, and you’re unable to pull his arm up like you usually would, and instead his fingers are playing around the little overhang of your belly, brushing a finger on the sensitive skin there. “So soft doll, you’re like a little baby - so goddamn soft, I could, could just sink right into ya.” You gasp, it’s so antithetical to what you expected him to say,

“Oh,” He hushes you, stroking your stomach again,

“Lis’en to me, ‘m so lucky, honey,” You make a noise of agreement, “So lucky, you’re so goddamn pretty, y’hear?” Your leg moves of its own accord, up a little, giving him a little extra wiggle room that he quickly takes advantage of, continuing to rock into you. His hand on your stomach has slid down to stroke the crease of your thigh, reaching around to rub at your clit, and he leans down to kiss your shoulder and neck. You don’t expect it, enjoying the intimacy enough that you didn’t really care if you achieved it, but the feel of his lips on your neck, the speed of his hand, the rocking deep into you is all enough to cause your thighs to clench, fists gripping the sheets as you ride out the shakes of a gentle orgasm.

Elvis follows momentarily later. He stays where he is, curled around you, slowly slipping out his softening cock, breathily heavily against your back, his hand still stroking you even as he moves his arm to rest upon your stomach. His touch briefly disappears for a moment to swipe clumsily at you with your own trousers, and with the motion you find yourself suddenly bursting into overwhelmed tears. He immediately rolls you over to look at him,

“Oh no, baby, what’s’a matter?” His eyes crinkle at you, “C’mon now, ‘nough of that,'' He wipes the tear tracks away with a thumb and you gulp at him, breath hitching as you find yourself unable to stop, “You’re too pretty to make yourself all red,'' He changes tact, attempting the stern tone that sometimes seems to work on the audiences. “C’mon, stop it now, take it easy.” He sighs, pressing a kiss to your cheek when you can’t stop yourself.

“I’m,” Your voice wavers, “sorry - I don’t, don’t know - I’m so-“ He cuts you off, tugging you closer to him,

“Alright, alright, you just stay there, just let it out, that’s it, c’mere, go on, I don’t mind.” He tucks you into his chest, “Shh, shh, didn’t meanta make you cry, honey - it’s alright.” He soothes, large palm stroking your back until you calm down into sniffles. God how embarrassing, you feel stupid for it - how silly can a girl be?

“Oh nah, now, not silly, honey, ‘s just, just the effect I have on the girls I reckon, god knows why, but seems to be the case.” You hadn’t realised you’d said it aloud and you let out a watery giggle against the soft fuzz of his chest. “C’mon now, curl in and let’s go to sleep,” He shifts a little, to make it easier for you to practically lie on top of him, he tugs the covers around you, effectively tucking you in, shushing you when you start to sniffle again, before you drift off to the sound of his steady heartbeat.

You awake with a start, the phone ringing insistently. You quickly realise, though, that it wasn’t the phone that had awoken you, but Elvis shouting on his back for,

“Daddy!! God I swear, Charlie!! I swear to god man, I swear to god. Someone shut that damn phone up ‘fore I shoot the goddamn thing off the wall!” His eyes are still closed even as he roars out the order and you can’t help, now that your heart has stopped racing, but laugh at him. He sits bolt upright at the sound of your giggle, blinking in the daylight,

“El - El, it’s my phone - you can’t go round shooting other people’s houses.” He flops back, just as dramatically as last night, patting at your thigh and back,

“Oh lord… they’ll be wantin’ somethin’ offa me - go on then little’un - go see what they want.” The phone stops for a second, and you look over at the clock on your bedside, 12:04.

“They’re probably going to say we’re late.”

“Late? Nah, barely, barely slept, got plenty of time.” You throw the alarm clock at him as the phone starts up again and, grabbing your robe from the door on the way, you start to head down to answer it, leaving him swearing behind you.

You regret picking it up, almost immediately being shouted at from the guys on the other end of the line. Whoever had been the one calling had been pleasant enough, for the brief “Hello” you’d been allowed before the receiver had been taken over by Red and you were now near tears again at the way you’re being spoken to, told off, and degraded for keeping him out. As if it were entirely your idea, and how you can forget about accompanying him on the rest of the tour. You were, according to Red, a goddamn liability - the monologue had just turned into questioning your motives, suggesting you were heading to the tabloids any minute when the phone was plucked out from your hands. You’d failed to notice, in the haze of trying to absently defend yourself, Elvis coming down the stairs.

“You talk to all my girls like that?” As much as you enjoy his angry tone, you didn’t love being reminded in that moment that you were probably one of many. Still, his furious expression made your heart feel like it was pounding out of your chest, a deep glow emanating. There’s silence, then, “Whatever, man, I’ll talk to you ‘bout it later, not got time right now - ‘s the car ready? Gonna be late for this show else, Colonel’ll have my ass I swear, if that car ain’t out there -“ He pauses, “Well, why the hell not? Thought you’d have been - right, okay, well that’s what it’ll have to be - just get it out here in twenty.” He hangs up the phone without a goodbye, immediately turning to you and cupping your cheeks in his hands as he kisses you. “Pay him no mind, he don’t know what he’s talkin’ ‘bout.” You nod,

“Ok, but Elvis - you know I would never; that’s not what I’m - “ He shakes his head,

“I know, I told you - don’t listen to a word he says.” You do your best, even as it reverberates around your head as you collect up your clothes from the dryer, watching Elvis redress. You wonder if you should go with him, where you’re so clearly unwanted, and though he doesn’t say anything you can tell Elvis thinks you’re being weirdly quiet. It’s barely any time at all before the car outside honks, and it’s time to leave. You make the last minute decision that you’ll see him to the car, but stay behind, but as if he can read your mind, after he climbs into the car Elvis turns to look back at you,

“You’re comin’ too, baby, right?” He holds out an arm, and despite feeling the glare from the guys in the car, you grab onto it - your desire to stay with him outweighing any worries.

taglist:

@ellie-24 @vintageshanny @thatbanditquee @lookingforrainbows @whositmcwhatsit @from-memphis-with-love @missmaywemeetagain @peskybedtime @powerofelvis @shakerattlescroll @dkayfixates @18lkpeters @literally-just-elvis-fics

#elvis fanfic #elvis presley fanfiction #elvis smut #be-my-ally #elvis x oc #elvis x reader #elvis x you #writing prompt game

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trolls-poppy-specialist · 8 months ago

Text

so, I was working on a RedCrackle fic and i wrote a reunion scene coz it was in my to-dos

@grahamcarmen

@redxcrackle

@redcracklestan

@redcxackles-backup

@redcxackle

@redxcrackle

(from gray’s pov)

“GRAY!”

I’m fiddling with the electricity supply, barely managing to place the final touches before I get wrapped up in a bear hug. My heart skips a beat at the familiar voice, and from the corner of my eye, I see the familiar lump of curly auburn hair and register the scent of rose-scented perfume I know all too well. The wetness on my coat is surprising.

“Carmen?” I break the hug, staring into her blue-grey eyes, and they are slightly swollen and red, “you’re crying.”

Oh gosh. I messed up.

“I know… I just… I thought you were gone…” the last of her sentence becomes an inaudible murmur as she sobs and lets out a soft hiccup.

“Why are you here?” I try not to sound too condescending, and the straight look of Shadowsan appears in my head. I instantly feel scared.

Her face falls in five seconds, and I’d feel guilty if I didn’t hear what she says next, “My team dragged me here.” I grip onto her bare hand as she buries her face into my chest, and my heart flutters to seventh heaven. But at the same time, I can tell that she’s more closed off than usual, and I tuck a strand of hair behind her ear. Zack and Ivy are probably whispering somewhere, Shadowsan is probably judging me, and Player is probably on video call listening in to this conversation.

So I better not screw anything up.

“You seem quiet. What’s going on? Are you okay?”

“I don’t know how to say this but I… I… I love you.” the confession nearly goes unheard, but I manage to catch it amidst the whir of the air-conditioning, and it’s then I realise that most of the men who work here have stopped in their tracks, staring at us, and the chatting crowd outside has partially gone silent. I try my best to ignore it.

Did she just…?

Oh god, she just did. What do I say back? How’ll she react? Will it be bad or good? Somewhere in the back of my mind, I hear the two Boston siblings giggling, and I do my best to shake the thought out of my head.

“I love you too, and–” I manage the best and most reassuring smile I can, only to have the remaining words die on my tongue when I feel a tug on my coat, followed by her lips on mine. I don’t know what to do for a second as I hear my heart pound in my chest and feel the blood rushing through my ears.

She’s kissing me.

My first kiss with the most beautiful girl in the world is great.

I can’t think straight, and I’m left stunned.

But it is kind of nice, actually.

I let my eyes slip shut, wrapping my arms around her waist and pulling her closer as I run a hand through her auburn locks. The world seemingly stops rotating as if frozen in time. It’s not like the kissing scenes in movies, but just something new, something that I haven’t gone through, even with my first girlfriend.

Heaven. Sheer heaven.

Heaven is what it is.

As we pull away, my hands moving to grip hers, I open my eyes, and it’s then that I register what’s going on in the real world. My male colleagues are standing, frozen in shock, one of them yelling, “YOU GO, GRAY!” while the rest blend in with the ocean of ‘oohs’ and ‘aahs’, some staring at me with what I perceive as envy in their eyes. Carmen’s crew has moved forward– Zack and Ivy are filming the entire thing and snickering, Player has his jaw slack from what I see on Carmen’s phone, and Shadowsan has his eyes widened as he’s chewing on something that looks like a Snickers bar.

I can hear whispers washing through the crowd, like ‘have you seen the look in his eyes whenever he mentions her? You should’ve seen the sparkle in them. That’s true love there’ and ‘this is Grammy-class romance here. I’m filming this for my Instagram’. Shadowsan is now uttering something that sounds like ‘Carmen is officially not single anymore.’, the last of his Snickers bar gone; and Zack is literally screaming at a volume so loud the security guards at the other end of the country could probably hear him, “OH MY GOSH! THEY KISSED! THIS WILL MAKE GOOD CONTENT FOR THE KIDS!”

Shadowsan, please, PLEASE don’t kill me. The last thing I want is to be at the hands of a sharp knife as he hurls profanities at me.

“Well done, Carm,” Ivy walks over, putting her hand on her shoulder, “you two are officially a couple now.”

Her cheeks turn crimson, and I can’t help but make the association.

La femme rouge.

“So…” I speak up, “you want to… go out on a date with me?”

#carmen sandiego #carmen sandiego 2019 #carmen sandeigo 2019 #carmen sandeigo netflix #carmen sandeigo #carmen sandiego netflix #carmen x graham #graham x carmen #graham crackle #graham calloway #redcrackle #i am alive #these two are the definition of angst and romance at once #can i just tag all the RedCrackle peeps here #okay #hc that dude is super awkward #and his first kiss was *great*#screaming crying throwing up #where my RedCrackle shippers at

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stabbyfoxandrew · 9 months ago

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Hey, I hope you have a great day💕 Could I have some arsonist neil/firefighter andrew?

WIP Wednesday (3/6) | Arsonist Neil / Firefighter Andrew AU (Part 107)

Boyd and Wilds are already at the table with plates in front of them. How nice of them to wait for Andrew and Renee. Renee grabs a couple plates from the cabinet and passes one Andrew’s way. Each of them loads their plates up with spaghetti and garlic bread and goes to sit down. Andrew’s first bite doesn’t make him gag. That means Kevin isn’t here today.

After a few minutes, Boyd looks up at Andrew and grins. “Hey man. Are you going to tell us about—”

“I already asked Matt. He’s giving out no details at this time.” Renee says, holding up a hand.

“Boring.” Wilds shakes her head.

“I will tell you one thing about him.” Andrew says, making his crew mates ooh and aah. But he chickens out. “He... is a man.”

“We already knew that.”

“Too bad. I didn’t tell you to be perceptive.” Andrew shrugs and starts to cut his garlic bread into small pieces. “I don’t ask you people about your personal lives.”

“We’re literally married. You know both of us.” Boyd says, gesturing between him and Wilds.

“Yeah. And I never ask you about that.”

There’s footsteps in the hall and suddenly Wymack is coming into the kitchen. “Thanks a lot for coming to tell the old man food was done.”

“Oh shit.” Boyd says, looking sheepish. “Sorry, Chief.”

With that, any and all discussion of anyone’s love lives flies out the window. Andrew thanks his lucky stars, and Spiderman while he’s at it, and eats his meal in peace.

#i love them all being nosy about andrew! it's my favorite thing TWT #like in this au they didn't all go to college together? so like... they don't know Manic insane Andrew. just regular prickly andrew! :)#andreil #aftg #WIP Wednesday #Arsonist Neil / Firefighter Andrew #🕊️#answered #anon

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toomuchracket · 10 months ago

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this is random but I had a thought about maybe flatmate girlie getting a bit put out by the girls in the girls video. like not mega jealous, but maybe a bit insecure? like obviously they’re GORGEOUS and stuff but seeing them all in their underwear and matty is obviously around them and looking at them and stuff. idk, just a thought. like maybe they’d get home and she’d be a bit snappy and short with him (I too get like that when I’m jel or sad lol), and he’s like have I done something wrong? is everything okay? and she just doesn’t know how to say how she feels without being like I want it to be me that you gawk at in lingerie!!!!!!

you meet them in the pub after the shoot and it's all nice and fun until hann (bless him) slides his phone to you and says "here, we did a little behind the scenes thing to show you because you couldn't make it earlier"; literally the second clip is matty chatting to a couple of the models in their underwear and them being a bit giggly, right into an actual video clip of them kissing him on the cheek, and you're literally clenching your teeth to try and keep a straight face as you ooh and aah at the rest of it. matty leans forward after you've watched it to be like "so this is the idea it's a pisstake of pop vids and then there's the robert palmer reference with the hot girls and the lipstick and-", and you cut him off like "yeah i'm not stupid i understand the concept and the inspo" - he's slightly taken aback like "oh. of course. yeah. sorry, darlin", but you're already chatting to george about something. and it's all fine for a little bit, until ross casually says "matty. are you gonna see that girl with the short hair again? she was cool. seemed to really like you", and he's like "oh maybe. she's so fit. couldn't keep my eyes off her when she was pretending to be me, to be honest lol", and that's IT for you; you're like "oh it's my round, same again? i'll be back in a minute", and go up to the bar for a bit of space and some silent seething. but that's fucking ruined by matty following you like a lost puppy giving it "hi sweetheart. thought you might want a hand carrying everything over. missed you today", and all you can do is hum in response - he's immediately concerned like "you alright, darlin?", and you're like "yeah. just tired. i'll take these two drinks back if you can get the others. cheers" and walk back to the table. he can tell there's definitely something up with you, but he can't tell what specifically; there's no way you're jealous, right? no, must be something else (🙄). he asks when you get back to the flat and wordlessly take your shoes off in the hall, before you can go to your room and slam the door - he's like "darlin, i know you're upset with me, and i want you to tell me why so i can properly address it, please. was it me explaining the video? i didn't mean to make you feel like i think you're daft, you're the smartest person i know. i'm sorry if i came across like that", and you sigh like "it's not that. it's just..." and you think of how best to phrase it without giving yourself away before continuing like "i think i feel a bit left out". not a lie, because you want him to look at YOU in your underwear and not some random model, and matty just nods and says "because this is the first 75 vid you haven't been on set for?", and you're like "mhmm yes that's it. just felt out of the loop! exactly". he hugs you and apologises, and you feel better after the contact; even better when he looks at you softly and says "you know, you look really beautiful today, if you don't mind me saying" (and you don't), because shocker! he was wishing you were the one he was looking at the whole time too! god you two are so stupid in the early days lol. cute though <3

#mads answers asks #matty asks #fluff asks #angst asks #flatmate!matty #moots <3

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borathae · 7 months ago

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Chapter 6

HOSEOK BITCH STOP GRANDMA???? THATS A STRETCH AND KNOWING U ARE AN ANCIENT BEING, DAMN I-

Hoseok stumbles, colliding with Seokjin’s chest. ofc he laughs with his entire body FUCK I MISS HIM WTF NAH NOPE WE WONT CRY WE MUST STAY FOCUSED BROTHER

JIN U BETRAYED ME??? HOW COULD YOU

Seokjin pleads, giving you the biggest puppy eyes that man hates aegyo on command, but watch his ass do aegyo on command if its on run bts tasks 😭 ik he will be the most supportive one if you told bts you are selling feet pics

who calls their fraternity Alpha? What kind of superiority complex do they have?” 💯fr

What are you? Secret vampires or something?” um

So mysterious”, Hoseok says, ok ig

“that man can be an asshole.” WHAT DO U MEAN MY KITTY IS AN ASSHOLE????

dig his metaphorical fangs into your neck and drain you of your metaphorical blood WHAT DOES THAT MEAN??? (ik what it means, but 👀👀)

at least she got her sleep and is stress free now, i guess thats a win

JAMAL CHILL?? OOH JIN TELL EM SIS, WHATS HIS PROBLEM?

they are quaking with the desire to punch each other’s faces in. BE LESBIAN, PROBLEM SOLVED YEEHAW

Without me? homie really said that with his whole chest

It’s one of those activities you like to call terribly boring." ??? sir ??

also u know what, i will make it unboring for you real quick, lets go on a pirate ship, that will make u scream

dont judge my man yall, he was giving birth to lie on the pirate ship

WHAT DID TAE TELL HIM???? JAMAL SMILED AT ME??? his moodswings be like ➡️⬅️⬆️⬇️↗️↘️↙️↖️↕️��️🔄️↪️↩️⤴️⤵️🔃

joon asks me out to study AAAAAAH 😩

holding his arm before you giggle into it. *twitching eyes WHY SHE GOTTA LIVE MY DREAM AAH BUTTER TAE THOSE ARMSS 🤤😋

“Oh you’re still here?” Taehyung asks STOP HE IS SOO SASSY, GIVE THAT MAN LONG NAILS

making Taehyung chuckle.......... one of his weirdly dishonest ones. tae when jin forces him to laugh at puns (that still makes me cackle)

He is a self-centred peacock PEACOCK DAMN GURL

“Violence is never the answer IT IS THE SOLUTION

ok sorry tae, back to serious mode, IS THAT FORESHADOW TO HIS PAST(mentioned in drabbles)

we are going swing dancing today UWUW

I can’t dance. What if I make a fool of myself?” I CANT DANCE EITHER, LETS GET MARRIED we can swing dance together for shits and giggles and get drunk in each other's laughter and smile, kissing passionately as if we are still in high school.

(omg that was so romantic, lemme just copy that)

did i tell you i still love the way he talks, its so coquette, in a manly way

I am a terrible student. i got exams in a month i have barely studied 😃😭

time does really fly fr it does, you wish it went fast, but when you think back, you wish you could live in that moment one more time

“cake is quite the delicacy oof the fanciness

ah yes old stuff *sighs in delight and coziness

There is fog in the air. It got stuck on the rooftops of the houses. Like a perfect gradient it makes them disappear into a grey nothingness. if this scene was on tv, what color light would it have?? (background lights you know) i was thinking of yellow, since we are talking about antiques

“I guess…” you look out the window for quite some time to think of an answer. You look at the perfectly polished stones of the sidewalk. You watch how the rain builds little rivers in the nooks and crannies. And that is when you get your answer. and the lights slowly becomes cool and blue (blue for calm, unity and stability)

thats a nice perspective of history but for the love of god, i cant stay awake or mentally present during it 😭

With your cheeks burning up like crazy and a big smile on your face you look out of the window again. A swing song comes on the radio, Taehyung turns it louder the tiniest bit. AND THE LIGHTS TURN PINK

“N-no? I-I’m alright”, you stutter. we can see that

Taehyung gets a few (probably painful) steps on his toes, but he doesn’t say anything. MASOCHIST ALERT 😭

stop flattering me im shyyyyy *shakes booty like jimin

this is so cute bye im soo single

“this was like in the movies! Do it again!” SHE IS SOO CUTE UWUW MOVE TAE SHE IS MINE *hits the gym so i can yeet tae out of the way and carry her

HE DID IT AGAIN HEEEHEEEEHEHHE

“Okay but that throwing thing you did? You can’t just do that without training first. Also why are you so strong? It’s inhuman really.” SAY IT SIS

I just think you are beyond precious”BYE IM GONE

Why do an elderly lady and Taehyung know each to such extent that they are hugging as if they were two old friends reuniting? dont overthink, they are just besties, um they met on a idk metro yeah

“it’s been so many years and yet you still look the same. While look at me”, OBVIOUSLY ITS SUS

Perhaps I should have taken the offer back then.” 👀👀

“What offer?” um the plastic surgery offer, anti aging laser. HERBS YEAH IT WAS THE HERBS, SHE MISSED OUT ON AN HERBAL MASSAGE

No way! That’s splendid! Just what you dreamt of!” they are such cute besties pls

It is hard not to choke on your olive, not when your body is burning up like that. i choked on air

How is it?” WHY IS THIS SOO HOT STOP DONT FOLD THAT FAST BITCH NA UH *also folds like a lawn chair in a sec

Taehyung gets off the barstool and closes the distance between you and him. SIR MY MENTAL HEALTH???

you stutter, knees buckling slightly as he helps you stand up. SLIGHTLY???? u mean buckling like a trying on heels

You haven’t told anyone ever but in your dreams you always pictured your prince charming to be good with elderly people and kids. Not that you would tell anyone your stupid fantasies, but you really did picture him like that. we all do, tae is a prince charming *sighs in high standards

“I think you gave that lady proper heart palpitations fr, i got so giddy just reading

And so full of life”, 👀👀👀as opposed to what sir???

Taehyung seems properly flustered for a moment, eyes flitting downwards and blinking rapidly. YES WE GOT THE CUTIE PIE FLUSTERED YEEHAW THIS IS A WIN FOR THE GAYS AND UNGAYS (i love to use this in sentences unrelated to sexuality)

quite sad to think that we are looking at something which has died thousands of years ago ... Well if you say it like that mood sis

it is nice to know that we can look at the past when we look at the stars?” waaaah im in love with her

I always thought of them as a reminder of death”, “or rather hell.” AYO??👀👀

they are still burning bright. Mustn’t it be such a burden to never get to rest?” ooh

*starts playing love maze

“Then you mess up, you mustn’t worry about mistakes you haven’t even made yet” i will try to remember this all the time

because right now I am thinking that this lamp is also alone, surrounded by darkness and thick fog and it should feel so terribly lonely and yet here it is, outshining both of them."

HOW DO U WRITE THIS WELL?? LEAVE US SOME TALENT CRUMBS

People normally aren’t happy when they are around you and finally experiencing it feels so good. WHO HURT YOU POOKIE??? IM COMING WITH MY FRYING PAN

this is soo cute i cant, the writing, them, the lamp and the stars gosh, i feel so giddy i wanna spin around the lamppost like a simp does in music videos

Yes darling” Taehyung whispers and there is obvious seduction in his voice. OHO HO HO I SEE U NAUGHTY BOI

this was a cute chapter im gonna sleep soo good with idk grass and unicorns in my dreams

HOSEOK BITCH STOP GRANDMA???? THATS A STRETCH AND KNOWING U ARE AN ANCIENT BEING, DAMN I-

lmoaoao he is so mean for no reason fajsdfja I love him JFAJDFJ

Hoseok stumbles, colliding with Seokjin’s chest. ofc he laughs with his entire body FUCK I MISS HIM WTF NAH NOPE WE WONT CRY WE MUST STAY FOCUSED BROTHER

LISTEN I MISS HIM TOO OMFG I'M IN PAIN

I miss him so much 😭 BUT ALSO LESS THAN A MONTH TILL HE IS BACK OMGMGMG (the most supportive for feet pics would be Tae though change my mind. you can't.)

who calls their fraternity Alpha? What kind of superiority complex do they have?” 💯fr

no but it will ALL MAKE SENSE LIKE LIKE LIEK LIEKEKE LIKEKE

“that man can be an asshole.” WHAT DO U MEAN MY KITTY IS AN ASSHOLE????

the foreshADOWINGNNG (i said too much)

dig his metaphorical fangs into your neck and drain you of your metaphorical blood WHAT DOES THAT MEAN??? (ik what it means, but 👀👀)

HELLOOOOOOOOOO

Without me? homie really said that with his whole chest

THE JEALOUSY of this man LIKE

It’s one of those activities you like to call terribly boring." ??? sir ??

i love their sass fr fjadsjf

WHAT DID TAE TELL HIM???? JAMAL SMILED AT ME??? his moodswings be like ➡️⬅️⬆️⬇️↗️↘️↙️↖️↕️↔️🔄️↪️↩️⤴️⤵️🔃

perhaps something with her metaphorical blood HELLOO

joon asks me out to study AAAAAAH 😩

AAAH (scared)

holding his arm before you giggle into it. *twitching eyes WHY SHE GOTTA LIVE MY DREAM AAH BUTTER TAE THOSE ARMSS 🤤😋

when this video dropped I lost IT

ok sorry tae, back to serious mode, IS THAT FORESHADOW TO HIS PAST(mentioned in drabbles)

mhmhmmhmh

time does really fly fr it does, you wish it went fast, but when you think back, you wish you could live in that moment one more time

YES THIS OMFG the most painful thing ever 😭

ALSO I love how you thought of different colours during the scene <3 I love this energy heheh <3

Taehyung gets a few (probably painful) steps on his toes, but he doesn’t say anything. MASOCHIST ALERT 😭

there are no lies to be found here tbfh

“this was like in the movies! Do it again!” SHE IS SOO CUTE UWUW MOVE TAE SHE IS MINE *hits the gym so i can yeet tae out of the way and carry her

NO BUT THANK YOU i LOVE HER SO MUCH she is so cute frrr

“it’s been so many years and yet you still look the same. While look at me”, OBVIOUSLY ITS SUS

it IS

lmaooao you losing it over Tae existing is so me fr

it is nice to know that we can look at the past when we look at the stars?” waaaah im in love with her

me fr

I always thought of them as a reminder of death”, “or rather hell.” AYO??👀👀

THE FORESHADOWING GOES CRAZY FR ps: i forgot the stars and photography part during this chapter and now im <3 holy moly they were so cute together in the beginning im so soft

People normally aren’t happy when they are around you and finally experiencing it feels so good. WHO HURT YOU POOKIE??? IM COMING WITH MY FRYING PAN

NO BUT FR

this is soo cute i cant, the writing, them, the lamp and the stars gosh, i feel so giddy i wanna spin around the lamppost like a simp does in music videos

I'M HAPPY YOU LOVED IT SO MUCH HEHEHE 💜💜

#asks: sanguis alpha #asks #minusback #tw: long post

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reminiscentreader · 1 year ago

Text

I Bet You Think About Me

Chapter 4

“We were both young when I first saw you, I close my eyes and the flashback starts”

love story, Taylor swift

*flashback*

Cordelia presses her face against the hot window, she had never been to Texas before but it was so hot, she was worried she might melt before they even got to the mysterious Hawthorne family her father had told her so much about “me and your mother have been friends with Skye and Zara Hawthorne for as long as I can remember Cordelia, they have sons your age, I’m sure you’ll get along with them just fine” was what he had said as they stepped of their private jet.

._._._._._._._._._._._._._.

They pulled up into the Hawthorne garage that was filled with fancy cars like the ones at Cordelia's home back in Oxford, “daddy” she whined, Aaron Ambrose turned his head to look at his daughter, “what is it Della?” He sighed, exasperated, “I want to go home, I don’t want to meet the stupid Hawthornes”

“Della you will be fine, only one of them bites, or so I’m told.”

She reluctantly jumped out of the car, standing to the side as her mother got out holding her baby brother and her father thanked the driver.

._._._._._._._._._

Stepping up to the doors of Hawthorne house, her brother kept making noises like “ooh” and “aah” and “so pretty” Cordelia was unimpressed, her house looked just like this and they had way prettier plants.

An old man greeted them in the lobby, he was a pretty ugly old man and Cordelia was tempted to tell him that, but decided it would be wise to keep her mouth shut to avoid a scolding from her father later .

._._._._._._._._._._._._._

“Welcome Ambrose’s, how nice it is to have you here” he stepped toward Cordelia and knelt down on one knee so they were the same height “ ahh you must be Cordelia,” he turned towards her father “how old is she now, four?”

“I turn five in December”

The old man laughed, though she wasn’t sure what was funny about her birthday, “well Cordelia I’m sure your eager to meet the boys” no she thought, though again kept her mouth shut, “there just through that door there” he gestured toward an intricately decorated door in the corner of the room.

Cordelia didn’t move.

“Go” her father hissed in her ear, slowly she made her way over to the door, and with one last look at her parents and brother, pushed it open.

._._._._._._._._._

Three out of the four heads in the room turned to look at her, one blonde, one brunette, and one that seemed slightly older and had on a cowboy hat. Cordelia froze, tempted to run back out the door and never come back.

“Hello” the blonde one said, putting down the puzzle piece he was holding, “would you like to come help us with our puzzle?” Cordelia nodded quickly as the boy patted the empty space next to him, inviting her to sit.

._._._._._._._._._._

Cordelia moved to sit next to the blonde boy who had spoken, and for they first time saw his eyes, they were so grey they looked silver, she could’ve sworn they glittered in the sun. “What’s your name?” The boy inquired. Cordelia whispers her name but doubted the boys had heard her, the boy with the cowboy hat lent slightly toward the brunette, “what did she say?” He whispered, Cordelia looked into her hands and started to fiddle with her fingers, “I’m sorry, we didn’t hear you can you say it again?” The blonde boy said gently, “Cordelia is my name” she said, louder this time.

“Why do you sound like that?” She looked up it was now the brunette boy talking. Cordelia was mortified that the boy had made a comment on her accent, she decided the only thing she could do now was run, so that’s what she did, she ran out of the room tears pricking her eyes, the blonde boy said something she couldn’t quite hear over her own sobs.

._._._._._._._._._._._.

Cordelia’s face was buried in the pillows of her bed when somebody knocked on her door, she assumed it was her father, coming to ask about her outburst earlier in the day. She dragged her self out of bed and pulled open the door.

Grayson fiddled with his fingers as he waited for the girl to open the door, he wanted to apologise for what Jameson had said, the girl had clearly been offended, and it didn’t help that she had looked terrified the minute she walked into the room, When she spoke for the first time Grayson had actually thought her voice was quite pretty and made her sound smart. He was just about to knock again when the door opened.

._._._._._._._._._._._.

It was not her father at the door, instead it was the blonde boy from earlier, he had his fist half way in the air as if he was just about to knock again, “I- um hello” he said twiddling his thumbs “I- uh came to apologise for what my brother said earlier,” he cleared his throat “I actually think your voice makes you sound very smart” Cordelia couldn’t tell if this was some cruel trick the boys were playing on her so they could make fun of her again, the boy did seem sincere enough, but maybe that was a part of the plan, “ I really am sorry,” the boy said looking down at her, “I tried to get Jameson to apologise himself but he said he did nothing wrong” “I’m Grayson by the way” Grayson stuck out his hand, Cordelia shook it, “I’m Cordelia” she said again.

Cordelia smiled at Grayson, and Grayson flashed two dimples back, and in that moment Cordelia felt that for the first time in her life, she had a friend.

._._._._._._._._._._._._ This one was a cute chapter, sorry for how long it was tho 🫶

#the final gambit #xander hawthorne #avery grambs #nash hawthorne #the brothers hawthorne #the hawthorne legacy #jameson hawthorne #the hawthorne brothers #grayson hawthorne #the inheritance games

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drustvar · 2 years ago

Text

Ch. 7: Standstill

A few days spent in quiet respite before the drama begins again.

WC: 1,196 A/N: Tried to shave this chapter down to a more reasonable word count as opposed to the big fat boy ones I've been posting. Asra and Rosie's dynamic hurts my heart in the very best of ways. Ao3 Link in reblog || Full text available under read more.

The smell of hot lemon tea drew Rosie from her slumber, and she groggily followed it into the kitchen; all the while trying to shake off the dull headache that panged at her temples. Whether it was from chugging moonshine or from screaming until her voice was hoarse was anyone's guess. “Good morning, Rosie.” Asra looked up from the bubbling kettle. “I didn’t wake you, did I?” She said nothing, just wrapped her arms around him and rested her head on his shoulder. “Oh? What’s this for?”

“I wasn’t here to give you a hug when you came home,” she murmured. “And I’m sorry for being such a bitch last night.” “You were really hurt,” he said as he pressed a soft kiss to her forehead.

“But I shouldn’t have lashed out at you. That was wrong o’ me. And that couch sucks, we need a new one.”

He laughed and squeezed her hand. “How about I go pick us up some breakfast, are you sick of pumpkin bread yet?” “Never,” she smiled as he poured her tea. “And then we can have a nice self-care day, how does that sound?” “Sounds perfect,” the steam from her tea curled gently around her face, and for a brief moment she was able to forget everything that had happened. She smiled as she playfully bumped Asra with her hip. "Now get going, I'm hungry!" The next few days were quiet and mercifully and uneventful. Rosie had sent word to the Palace that she was sick and needed a few days to recover, and they’d kept the shop closed just to maintain the façade. Pippin had made his way home and promptly scolded her for lying, but after being given a slice of banana bread he seemed to forget all about it. The days were a much needed reprieve, but every day at sunset she found herself staring out the window at the streets. Her journal had started to fill up with prose and sketches of a familiar face; any notes about the Count’s murder were quickly being crowded out.

Asra had left before she’d even woken up that morning, which wasn’t unusual. But given the recent events, Rosie had hoped he would have ditched the habit. Up until then, he had been quietly attentive; always nearby like a sympathetic shadow. A sudden, loud knocking at the front door startled her as she was going about her morning routine.

‘Who could that be?’ She wondered as she made her way downstairs, drawing her shawl closer around her shoulders. ‘ It can’t be Asra, unless he’s forgotten his key again. ’

“Rosie, are you home? It’s Portia,” a voice called from the other side of the door. “I know you said you were sick, but we really need to talk.” ‘Portia? Oh no, is Julian…’ She hurriedly opened the door and ushered Portia inside.

“I’m glad I managed to catch you. Have you been feeling any better?” “Yes, yes. What’s going on? Is everything alright?” Rosie didn’t have the heart to tell her that she’d never been sick at all. But Portia didn’t answer, her attention was now drawn to all the various wares of the shop.

“Oh wow, look at this place!” She was completely awestruck. Tea tins with brightly painted florals on the shelves, bundles of herbs carefully tied in vases, crystal suncatchers sparkling as they caught the sunrise; her eyes glittered as she took it all in. “ This is your shop?”

“Oh, it’s not much,” Rosie couldn’t help but smile at the way Portia darted around, ooh-ing and aah-ing at everything. As nice as it was to be visited, what Portia had said at the door had worried her. “You said we needed to talk. Is everything alright?”

“You’re right, sorry!” Portia said, focused again. “There’s a couple things. Milady wanted me to see how you were faring…and, uhm, to see if any progress had been made on the investigation,” she said, her words becoming much quieter. “You know, with Ily- with Julian.” Her bright smile had faded, as if it had never been there. “I’m uh,” Rosie ran her hands over her arms. “I’m working on it.” ‘If you consider drawing him surrounded by little hearts, “working on it”.’ She thought. Portia stared at her for a long moment, wringing her hands in her sash. “Really? Have you made any progress?”

“Sort of. I think,” Rosie pulled her shawl tighter around herself and fiddled with the tassels on its edge. “Did you find him?” “Have you had anything to eat this morning?” Rosie asked, trying to change the subject. “Can I make you tea? Coffee? I made muffins yesterday if you'd-” “I’m just worried,” Portia continued, having not seemed to hear her. “I haven’t seen him since that day I ran into him here. If you had run into him since…”

Rosie sighed. "I've seen him."

“You have?”

“Aye, uh…well.”

“Ugh, listen Rosie,” Portia grasped her hand. “We all ran into each other here the other day. And I know neither of us are in any hurry to turn him in, but if Milady catches him, she’s going to hang him. I’m not about to let that happen.”

“I’m not either.”

“I know, but it's still good to hear... So, we need to get him out of the city,” Portia began to pace. “It’s the only way to keep him safe.”

“That’s what I told him. Bless him, but…he’s a bit dense isn’t he? Will he even let us help?” Julian’s insistence that she would get caught in the crossfire if she didn’t stay away from him was still painfully fresh in her mind. She doubted he had changed.

“Sounds like you’re speaking from experience.”

“I guess I am.” Rosie sighed again as she sunk down at the table. “The other night…” “The other night? You had better spill the beans.” “He pushed me away. Told me he needed to do this alone. Some big to do about a ‘darkness’ inside him,” Rosie laughed bitterly and waved her hand dismissively. “And to think, I really thought…” She trailed off and shook her head. "Doesn't matter, does it? What matters is we find him before he gets himself killed."

“That definitely sounds like Ilya… And let me guess, he said it was to keep you safe? He used to do that to me all the time when we were younger. He never let me handle anything on my own,” Portia leaned back, looking off into the distance. “Always shouldering someone else’s burdens while lamenting how heavy the load is. I mean, it’s nice to hear he’s still the same brother I knew; maybe now that I’m older I can finally carry some of that weight. Rosie,” She got to her feet and offered her hand. “Ilya needs people he can rely on. He might need you, so let's go find him.” “Do you have any idea where he might be?” “Oh, I think I know exactly where he is." "Right," Rosie ran her fingers through her hair as she got back to her feet and grabbed her bag off its hook by the door. "Lead the way then, captain."

#all those little drawings are a surprise tool that will help us later :^)#rosie on the floor PINING you know shes blasting sad indie folk records 'no im fine dont worry about me i promise'#kismet #rosie #julian #julian devorak #portia #portia devorak #arcana #mine

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tobythesudriantram · 2 years ago

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Learning with Mingle and Friends: Superheroes (Nermalized), A.K.A. a rewrite of Superheroes based on how I imagined it.

*Mingle is looking around the house trying to find her friends.*

Mingle: ...Oh, didn't see you there. Hi! I've been trying to find Dingle and Donk all day, but I can't seem to find them anywhere!

*A mysterious tall figure runs between doors in the background. Mingle turns around in confusion, having heard a noise.*

Mingle: Hm? Who was that? *She walks out to Donk's bedroom, looking around in confusion. She then turns to the audience.* Can you see anyone in here?

*A small piece of green fabric sticks out from Donk's closet.*

Mingle: Oh? I should check his closet? Alright...

*Mingle walks over to the closet and opens it up, causing Donk (who's wearing a crocodile hat, green mask, black cape and matching green croc shoes) to hop out.*

Donk: HAI-YAH!

Mingle: AAH! Donk, it's me, Mingle!

Donk: ...Who's this Donk you are talking about? I'm the Croc! I have no idea who you are talking about!

Mingle: ...Donk, I can tell it's you...

*Donk pulls off his mask.* Donk: Mingle, nobody should know my secret identity!

Mingle: Secret iden... Ohhh, I see, you're playing superhero?

Donk: Playing? I am a superhero!

Mingle: Alright, alright... *Mingle assumes that Donk is simply playing around.* Well then tell me, Croc... *She allows Donk to put his mask back on.* What are your superpowers?

Donk: A... What now...?

Mingle: You know, a special ability that sets you apart from everyone else!

Donk: Ohhh, that! Well, uhhh... My superpower is a very powerful bite! Here, let me show you! *Donk walks over to a random chair in the room and attempts to chew through it... With little effect.*

*Mingle's trying her best not to laugh.* Mingle: ...Heheh... Nice superpower...

Donk: ...Something's wrong, I can feel it! Maybe I should try again later!

Mingle: Alright then... Say, uhh, Mr. Croc... Anything else you have that's worth mentioning?

Donk: Oh, yes! My two sidekicks! The Cyan Snacker and the Scrunkle-Dingle! The three of us always stick together to fight crime! Like-

*Boyfriend hops into the room, wearing a mostly blue costume with red gloves and shoes, a white cape and the initials 'CS' written on his hat.*

Boyfriend: beep bop boo skdoo bee!

Mingle: Ooh, hello Boyfr... Uhhh... I mean... Hello, Mr. Cyan Snacker! Say, what kind of superpowers do you have?

Boyfriend: babeep bebop skrrt skedop! *He takes out a chocolate chip cookie and eats it in one bite.* ...beebo boop bap bee- *Buuuurp!* ...bop bee...

Mingle: ...So you gain different abilities based on what you eat? Sounds interesting! *Giggle*

Boyfriend: beep bo boop! *He runs towards Mingle and hugs her softly. Mingle, in response, hugs back...*

Donk: Say, now I wonder where Scrunkle-Dingle is? We should definetly introduce him to you soon!

*Dingle's voice can be heard from outside.* Dingle: HEEEEELP!

Mingle: ...Hm? Was that Dingle?

Donk: *Gasp* He's probably been captured! Triple Trouble, roll out! *Donk attempts to hop out the nearby window, but ends up hitting his face on the glass.* Owww...!

Mingle: Oh no... You know what, Do... Mr. Croc? Maybe you should get some rest and let me and your partner deal with the problem? Here... *Mingle takes off Donk's crocodile hat and instead gives him an ice pack.*

Donk: But... I need to help...! My best friend is in danger...!

Mingle: Calm down, i'm sure your partner will help me out enough to help Dingle!

Donk: ...Alright... But please help him quick...!

*Mingle and Boyfriend run outside to see where Dingle is. Dingle (who's dressed in a grey cat hat, a matching tail and grey cape with black stripes) is sitting in a tree next to an actual cat...*

Dingle: HEEEEELP!

Mingle: Dingle? How did you get up there?

Dingle: I wanted to help this kitty cat out of the tree but now I can't get down! *Dingle looks down at the broken branches that he used to get up, which have now broken off the tree...*

Mingle: Don't worry, i'm sure I can help you! Mr. Cyan Snacker, you stay here, while I go get some things to help! *Mingle walks back inside and into the garage.*

Mingle: ...I think I know what can be helpful. *Mingle walks into the garage, standing in front of a handsaw, a ladder, a water bucket and a box of rubber balls. She then turns to the audience.* Which do you think will help the most?

*Mingle waits for the audience to respond.* Mingle: The rubber balls? *She thinks about what she could do: She imagines herself tossing the balls at Dingle until he falls down from the tree.*

Mingle: ...No, that seems very mean... Plus it could mean that Dingle could get injured! He is very high up after all!

*Mingle looks at the handsaw.* Mingle: This? *She once again thinks about what would happen: She imagines herself sawing off the branch that Dingle is sitting on, causing him to, once again, fall down.*

Mingle: What? That seems plain silly! And again, Dingle could get really injured! Even more so than with the balls!

*She looks at the water bucket.* Mingle: What about this? *She thinks about what would happen: She could have Dingle jump down into the water bucket for a safe landing.*

Mingle: That sounds good, but I think this bucket's a bit too small - Dingle could miss and fall onto the ground instead!

*Finally, Mingle looks at the ladder.* Mingle: There, that should be much safer! *She imagines what to do: She sets up the ladder, climbs up it and takes Dingle, along with the cat, out of the tree.*

Mingle: Smart thinking! *She winks to the audience, before taking the ladder and walking back outside where Dingle is. However, now Dingle and Boyfriend are both on the ground, Dingle with his hand scratched and head hurt and Boyfriend with his back injured due to Dingle falling onto him.*

Mingle: Oh no, guys, what happened!

Dingle: The... *Sob* The cat scratched me and I fell off...!

Boyfriend: b-beep bop skdoo bo! *Boyfriend and Dingle both start crying.*

Mingle: Oh no, guys... Don't worry, i'll get you some help in a second... *She takes out her phone and calls 911.*

*...A few minutes later, the doctors arrive to help Dingle, Donk and Boyfriend, and the firefighters are there to take the cat out of the tree.*

Dingle: *Walks up to Mingle with a bandage around his head and a cast on his hand.* Hey Mingle?

Mingle: Yes?

Dingle: Sorry if we caused a problem...

Donk: *Walks up to Dingle and Mingle, with a bandage around his head.* We just wanted to help out, but we caused an even bigger problem...

Boyfriend: *Walks up to Dingle, Donk and Mingle, with some band-aids on his back.* bop bee boo skdoo bo bop...

Mingle: Awwww, guys, don't worry... It's not your fault... You just need to know that there's a difference between pretending to be a superhero and being a superhero! When you see a big problem like what you just saw, you need to ask someone else for help... Trying to deal with the problem yourself may make it even worse!

Donk: Oh... So... Do we just... *He takes off his mask and cape.*

Dingle: Yeah, I don't think we deserve these anymore... *He takes off his cat hat, tail and cape.*

Boyfriend: bop bee boo... *He takes off his gloves and cape.*

Mingle: Ohhh, guys... You don't need to give up... Here, I've got something that may interest you! Follow me! *She leads the three back inside and into her room. She turns off the lights.*

Donk: ...Mingle?

Mingle: Who's this Mingle you speak of, hm? *The lights turn back on, and Mingle is dressed in a red bustier, a blue mini-skirt, red knee-high boots and a golden belt.* Because I am Wonder-Fox! Come on now, let's fight some bad guys! Look, there's Mr. Piranha over there stealing money! *Mingle points to a small plush toy in the corner next to a bag full of play money.*

Donk: Yay! Criminals, beware! The Four-Way Fracture is now on patrol!

Dingle: Woohoo!

Boyfriend: Beep!

Mingle: Thanks for helping us out! See you later! *Mingle waves to the camera before running off with her friends to play, ending the episode.*

Credits: @friendlyfox34 - The series, plus the original Superheroes episode. @comforting-cartoons - Cyan Snacker BF concept. DC, Marvel and everyone else - The superhero concepts. And, of course, me! - Writing the story, plus the original idea.

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corpseaten · 19 days ago

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well, it is almost 3 pm here, but is is early for me to be up and moving! i typically have breakfast around 1, but today i had it at 11.... and i am much the same in real life. quiet, that is. i tend to just sort of blend into the background, which is nice. and yes, i have two siblings, an older sister and younger brother. the woes of being a middle child! technically i have two stepbrothers, but i only met them twice, as they live somewhere else. my siblings and i are all pretty good at staying out of each others way though, as my sister has her own apartment and my brother is always out with their friends. we hang out sometimes, but the two of them together can get so rowdy, i get drained easily....

and yes, i always hated the lack of clothes that i enjoyed! there was a halloween one i had found one time and was obsessed with, though.... and the else games! scary times. ooh, was it the ita bag you had posted a screenshot of? it looks quite nice.

aah, i am glad. i would hate to be bothering you in your inbox. like a blanket of nails, that is good metaphor.... which is exactly why i am terrified of not keeping myself occupied. and yes, i would so i do get annoyed pretty easily.. i just find most people irritating! i think i have always been this way. and it is funny that you say that, because i do feel as if we have some similarities.... plus, if i had the money to replace my devices, i too would smash them with an axe! i am sure it would feel nice.

i agree.... she is always telling me to get out of the house more and to see my friends, to which i always have to tell her i do not have any! it is generally fun, as i do like trivia. and the point of the club is to practice, as we have a statewide competition usually around the end of january or beginning of february. and we see which school has the most nerds, i suppose! i do say i am unwell sometimes, but i cannot do it too much or she will worry and send me to the doctors. but we do not have practice this week, as one of our teachers will not be there, so i get out of this week!

3pm . . i think (?) we have a six hour difference . . I am not good at times. Unless I have class, I usually wakeup at 11:30, but I skip breakfast! I just have lunch, which, i have a breakfast food for . . . I would blend more into the background if not for my clothes, it is the only part of me which draws attention, as I am prone to hiding my face behind my hair so people will not look at me. Oh my ! You have a lot of siblings , I am glad to have none as, one less person to cut off in the future. It is nice they still let you be alone, I know of a few people that have quite annoying siblings, so, it’s good yours aren’t.

I don’t understand why they make dress-up games and then give you so little to dress up in , it makes zero sense! Who is dressing here, as it certainly is not me ! I cannot name any specific ones, I just know I played them on my Grandmas computer a lot . . as I didn’t have one. Yes it was! I didn’t know you had seen it , it’ll come around mid-late November apparently, I cannot wait ! It’s based off of an asset in the old love live games, I don’t know if you’ve heard of it.

You are not a bother in the slightest, I look forward to hearing from you, you know, you are one of the only people i talk to these days. Some days I do find myself being good with my words, that was the best thing i’ve said this week ! I’m sure you’ll find solace one day — doing nothing can be lovely once you learn how to tune things down. I find people irritating as well, perhaps because i feel ostracized from them, they are another species to me. Oh really ? I did not take you to be so violent! I shall run if you are ever given such weaponry.

I am probably not the best person to talk to on this matter but, I think friends are useless, they will just become nothing to you eventually, why have them? there is no role a friend could fill that a lover could not ! I also do not really go outside much either, though I am never nagged about it. I am not good at things like trivia as I am not overly smart, as long as you enjoy it, that’s nice. I’ve never been in any sory of competition as that type of thing makes me overly anxious . . I hope you’ll win though ! Ahhhh that is true . . I never think of that when I say it, likely as my parents do not ever take me to hospital. Yay ! That means you can stay shut-in.

#⚰️.exe

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ghost-ghost-baby · 3 years ago

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Narcissist (alpha!readerxOmega!Bakugo soulmate au)

An: this is heavily inspired by the song narcissist by younger hunger definitely recommend listening to it!

An: BIG TY TO MY BETA FOR EDITING THIS ABSOLUTE MONSTER OF A FIC WE STAN!

Word count: 3.2k (ur welcome)

Summary: Bakugo being a little shit basically- Mina and Denki r sick of him- reader runs out of scent blockers-

Warnings: omegaverse, swearing, Bakugo being a dick, reader just thinks he’s hot, gets a bit spicy but nothing graphic, non traditional dynamics (subby alphas) drug use (weed)

You were in a familiar room, one you’d come to love since you’d started dreaming of it, and you sat on the bed and waited… any moment now.

“Oi, are you here, shithead?” The voice of your omega was dreamier than it was in real life; his harsh words unable to punctuate the tranquility of your dream.

“I always am, Katsuki!” You chirped, grinning as he slowly faded into existence. The black tank top and jeans he wears make him look far too good, and your brain short-circuited for a few seconds.

“I told you not to fucking call me that!” He growled, but you only laughed. Reaching out to grab his hands before he could stop you, you pull him down so you could kiss him. Any anger he had quickly melted away, and Katsuki had pulled one hand away to rest on your shoulder and pushed back. You got the point, you pulled away for air and leaned back on your elbows as you did. Katsuki followed and straddled you without a moment of hesitation. His mouth latched onto your neck and you let out a hum. With one hand gravitating to tangle in his hair, he gave you another push that had you lying flat on your back.

“Hey-”

“Shut the fuck up, don’t ruin this.” Katsuki bit down on your throat and you squeaked, although he licked over the mark seconds later to soothe it, and only pulled away to kiss you when you tried to talk again. You melted, let your hands wander down to his thighs, and had your thumbs rubbing absent-minded circles. Then, Katsuki was unbuttoning the shirt you had on, hands quickly trailing lower to-

“Y/N! Did you hear what Mr. Aizawa said?” Mina’s voice brought you back from the dream you had the night before, and you blinked at her as you blanked.

“No way I'm working with their dumbass!” Katsuki snarled as Kiri forced him into a seat at your table, and you turned your head to Sero with a questioning look. He usually knew what was going on in class.

“We have a group project for a presentation, Mr. Aizawa picked the groups-”

“Oh hell yeah, all my best bro’s working together? Sounds like fun to me!” Denki leaned over to hug you and Mina, and the pieces started to click together. You were working on an art project, with your mate, who hate-

“How could anything be fun with Y/n around, they fucking ruin everything.” Katsuki grumbled to himself, refusing to meet your eyes despite sitting opposite you. Kiri mouthed an apology to you from his seat next to Katsuki. Honestly, you had no idea why he’d decided to act like… such a brat really, but it was just an act, however annoying it was. The two of you were soulmates, he’d come around, eventually.

“Oh hush, Bakugo, Y/n’s a riot and we all know it! You’re the one who goes to sleep at like, 8pm” Denki came to your aid. The electric blonde then pressed a kiss to your cheek that had Katsuki gritting his teeth.

“So, what's the project, guys?” You flipped through your book to a fresh page, resting your chin on your hand as you waited for the others to speak.

“We have to show the versatility of styles and composition under a singular theme!” Kiri was the one that answered you, and the group immediately started throwing around ideas.

“I think we could do horror, a lot of horror artists have different composition styles and still manage to convey the-”

“Tch, that’s the best you could come up with? I’m not surprised, an alpha as shitty as you can’t be capable of any decent ideas.” Katsuki sneered, but you only smiled at him as the group agreed with your idea. Your omega merely grumbled and hunched over in his seat as the group discussed the different artists you could use as examples.

You’d stayed late to double-check something with a professor, and you were still flipping through your notebook as you walked through the unusually empty halls. You weren’t paying attention to where you were going, and before you knew it you ran into someone, the same someone who shoved you against a wall seconds later, but your fear subsided when you realised it was just Katsuki.

“Watch where you’re fucking going, dipshit.” Katsuki wasn’t even sure why he’d pushed you up against the wall, but being this close to you, touching you… it was..nice…

“Tch, god your scent is so weak, you smell like a fucking beta, how’d I get stuck with such a runt, huh? Some sick kind of joke.” Katsuki’s tone didn't match what he was saying. The way he leaned forward to rub his cheek over your scent gland definitely said otherwise, but you stayed quiet, he always found some excuse to scent you, but he’d usually get embarrassed and storm off if you dared to say anything.

“You’re pathetic, you know? Being this submissive for an omega, are you sure you’re not a beta? It’d make more sense.” You bit your lip when Bakugo pressed a kiss to your neck, only hesitating a moment before he started sucking a mark onto your skin. His words bounced right off of you because all you could focus on was how hot he was and how he’d subconsciously put his thigh between your legs and thank fuck you were on scent blockers, or you’d never hear the end of it.

“Really, you aren’t even going to try and defend yourself? You’re even weaker than I thought.” A growl next to your ear made you shiver, and Katsuki pushed away with a snarl when he was satisfied. He cursed at you again and warned you ‘not to tell anyone or he’d kick your ass’ (he wouldn’t) before he walked away, leaving you to walk home with your head completely in the clouds.

“What took you so fucking long, huh idiot?” Katsuki was on you the second you appeared in the dream, pulling you down into a rather ferocious kiss before you could say anything. He bit your lip when you didn’t open your mouth fast enough, swallowing any protests you would have made, and continued to kiss you until you were dizzy. “I’ve been waiting two hours…” He pulled away to kiss under your jaw, and if you didn’t know him so well you’d miss the insecure tone in his voice.

“Sorry, Midoriya wanted-” You stopped when Katsuki growled, biting down so hard you were surprised he didn't draw blood.

“Why the fuck are you saying his name here, huh? Are you tryna piss me off?” He pulled away to sneer at you. You opened your mouth to explain, but the words died in your throat when he unzipped your hoodie, and any coherent thought you had went out the window when he started to kiss your neck.

Everything was ready. The lounge room was set up, complete with snacks, drinks, and stationery for you and your friends to work on the project. They were meant to be here any second, and you couldn’t help but hover near the door to your apartment. You weren’t used to having people over and it still put you on edge having others in your space. But that thought left your head when a knock sounded on your door. You quickly opened it and were almost knocked over by Denki and Mina engulfing you in a hug.

“Thanks so much for hosting bro!”

“Awww you laid out all these snacks and stuff too! An omega’s gonna be really lucky to have you one day Y/n!” They pushed inside. Denki closed the door as Mina oohed and aahed over the setup, their praise had a slight blush rising to your face as you sheepishly rubbed your neck. Sero was next, quickly hugging you before he joined Denki and Mina, then Katsuki and Kirishima last. The blonde pushed past you without saying hello, but Kiri pulled you into a hug so tight you couldn’t breathe for a second, and was complimenting the setup as you took a seat. You tried to sit next to Mina, but Denki let out a whine and the pair was pulling you down between them before you had time to protest. Denki immediately leaned on you once you were settled. Katsuki couldn’t focus on the project, how could he, when his two dipshit friends were all over his mate. And you weren’t even doing anything to stop them! In fact, you were leaning into their hugs and giggling at every stupid joke they made! It had Katsuki fuming. Kirishima was the only one close enough to smell the angry shift in his scent, and he glanced between his friend and you, slowly putting the pieces together. You really had no idea what was happening, but Denki’s head was on your shoulder, and Mina’s arm around your waist as she asked questions about the project, giggling and pressing a kiss to your cheek whenever you got confused, which happened more than you’d like to admit. The blonde gritted his teeth when Mina’s hand went to your thigh, you were his! Nobody else should ever be touching you like that! You should know better! So when you excused yourself to grab something from your room, of course he made up some excuse about needing the bathroom so he could follow you.

The door to your room closed with a click, and you quickly spun around, expecting to see Mina or Denki, anyone except Katsuki to be honest.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” He was seeing red at this point. He cornered you and made you stumble back until your waist hit your desk.

“Uh- getting more pens-?” You held out the pack of pens with a confused look on your face that only made Katsuki angrier. How were you so stupid? And so fucking cute when you were- he cut off that thought, he needed to focus on yelling at you. Not the way your brows furrowed and how you nervously bite your lip as you waited for him to say something. Wait- were you blushing? Fuck, maybe he should-

“Katsuki? Are you oka-“

“Shut the fuck up, dipshit.” He snarled. Then, catching you both off guard, he leaned forward and kissed you. Your eyes fluttered closed immediately. He’d only kissed you in your dreams, which was nothing compared to this, and you hesitantly placed your hands on his waist. His hands went to your hair to pull you closer, tugging it until you got the message and parted your lips for him. Katsuki let out a hum of approval as he deepened the kiss, why hadn’t he done this sooner? You couldn’t focus on anything other than how much Katsuki tasted like caramel, he didn’t taste like caramel in the dreams. You couldn’t help but whine when he pulled back. Another insistent tug on your hair had you tilting your head back, and Katsuki didn’t waste any time kissing over your neck. You were so lost in the feeling you almost missed the words he growled against your skin.

“You should know better, you’re mine. Other people shouldn’t be fucking touching you like that.”

“Do you think they’re like…. Finally-” Mina made a hand gesture that had Denki cackling, even Kiri cracked a smile.

“I hope so, it’s getting hard to watch all the back and forth.” Sero sighed, dropped his pen, and stretched.

“Yeah, have you seen how mad Bakubro gets though? It’s pretty fun to push his buttons like this!” Denki grinned as he leaned his head on Mina’s shoulder, and she wrapped her arm around his waist.

“I don’t know… Bakugo’s uh… stubborn, to put it nicely.”

“Your scent is weird… are you wearing a different perfume?” Mina leaned her head on your shoulder, arms wrapped around your waist as you glanced at Katsuki. After whatever the fuck had happened in your room, he’d gone back to acting like he hated you, so, you’d kept letting Denki and Mina do whatever they wanted. He had his eyes fixated on the work, and you turned back to Mina with a smile.

“Oh, sorry about that! I forgot to refill my scent blockers and my doctor’s not available until next week.”

“Don’t be sorry, bro! It’s nice, like really, really nice!” Denki came up behind you, throwing a quick glance at Katsuki before he leaned forward, crooning and rubbing his cheek over your scent gland, Mina doing the same a moment later. The pen Katsuki was holding snapped, his angry scent pumping out in waves as he glared daggers into the book in front of him, all too aware of you laughing.

You were hyper-aware of how strong your scent was, this was the longest you’d gone without scent blockers since you’d presented, and you’d lit a scented candle to try and cover it up. It hadn’t really worked, maybe you should light some incense-

“Y/n! Sorry we’re early!” Mina’s hand on your shoulder broke you from your thoughts, and you shook your head before you smiled. Denki cut you off before you could apologize about your scent.

“Damn Y/n! It smells like you baked cookies- oh my god did you bake-”

“Don’t be stupid, babe, it’s just their scent.” Mina shoved him inside, shaking her head as she followed and closed the door behind her.

“Oh! Of course!” Denki nodded, and he and Mina linked arms with you. They walked you over to the couch and sat you all down with grins on their faces.

“Uh… guys-?” You didn’t trust that look, it never leads to anything good.

“Well, since the project is like, 99.5% done-” Mina started, hand coming up to play with your hair.

“We thought we deserved a reward!” Denki interrupted, reaching into his bag and producing a blunt. You felt your own grin forming.

“Oh my god- is that from-”

“Shinso! You know he sells the best stuff on campus, I decided to splurge for my bros!” Denki looked incredibly pleased with himself, and you couldn’t help but tackle the blonde in a hug.

“Oh my god Denki, you’re the best!”

The three of you were blazed by the time the others got there. Sero happily bounced over to share the blunt, while Katsuki and Kiri just sighed and sat down with you. Katsuki’s eyes instantly zoned in on where you were lying on Mina and Denki on the couch. He was oddly silent as he tried to keep his cool, the nagging thoughts that had always been there slowly got stronger. He’d always had to be strong, people perceived him as weak just because of his dynamic, so he’d rejected the thought of being with an alpha, hoping for a beta or omega. Or you. You never made a big deal out of your dynamic, and always treated him as an equal. Then the dreams started. He loved you, he really did! But his whole reputation would go down the drain if he was claimed by an alpha, especially one with such a weak scent and mild presence. So…. he pretended to hate you in public because the two of you had your dreams, where nobody could judge him! Even if they did pale in comparison to real life. But lately… he couldn’t stop wondering… were you getting tired of waiting? With the way you were acting… the thought made his stomach turn and his canines come out. Especially since you had run out of blockers. Your scent getting stronger and stronger as the days went by. You were his alpha! You shouldn’t be scenting other people! Especially omegas! And you certainly shouldn’t be laying on them while you were ignoring him! You hadn’t even said hello to him! You were too busy getting high with those assholes like you didn't belong to him! You were his, it wasn’t fair!

Mina was the last out of the apartment. She kissed your cheek and winked at you as the door closed. The exhaustion set in as you leaned against the door.

“What the fuck was that?” Katsuki growled and made you startled when you saw him by the table. You only shrugged as you went to pack up the stuff on the couch.

“Denki got us some weed because the project was done-”

“Not that, dickhead! They were all over you!” He marched over to you, trying to ignore how good you smelled up close.

“And? We’re not-” You responded, and Katsuki was shoving you before he realized, ignoring the way you yelped as you fell on the couch. You sprawled on your back and glaring up at him.

“Katsuki! What the fuck!” Katsuki didn’t reply, eyes traveling over your vulnerable form. Flush rose to his face as he realized how provocative the position was, causing warmth to pool in his tummy. If kissing was so much better in reality, what would it be like to be inside you? Feel you clench around him and pull his hair when he hit your sweet spot? Would your thighs shake the same in real life when he just kept going? The omega didn’t even realize his scent had changed, he just licked his lips and stared at you with hooded eyes, fuck he wanted-

“Are you okay? You zoned out.” Fuck, when had you gotten up? You were so close now, your scent overwhelming. He never wanted you to go on blockers again.

“Fuck, Katsuki! Katsuki! Are you in heat?” It finally dawned on you. Katsuki’s scent had taken on a sweeter tone it didn’t usually have, and with the way he kept zoning out, it was obvious. Plus thoughts of him on top of you that wouldn’t leave your brain alone. Your question snapped him out of his daze, and the omega snarled at you, stepping back and stumbling when a jolt of pain went through him.

“Fuck off, like you could trigger-” His voice cut off as another wave of pain went through him, causing you to reached out to steady him without thinking. The omega was going to let out a growl but it quickly changed to a whine as it escaped his mouth. You pulled your hand back like it had burned, although your mate’s temperature was so high it wasn’t out of the question. You took two steps back and froze when a feral snarl ripped through the room, dark red eyes pinning you in your place.

“He-hey Katsuki…” Your voice stopped his growling, and it took every ounce of self-control you had to stay coherent as he advanced, your rut already trying to cloud your judgment. Your eyes darted around the room, maybe you could make it to the bathroom? Then Katsuki could ride out his heat and you could talk about it? yeah. Katsuki was only a foot away from you now, the grin he had on was somehow more unsettling than the snarl, and you shook your head to get some of your resolve back. Okay, three, two, one-

You made it maybe ten centimeters before Katuski caught you, and pushed you back down on the couch. He wasted no time sitting on your lap and tilting your face up to look into his eyes.

“You’re not getting away from me, Alpha. I know you want this. I should have done this months ago.” Sincerity shone through your omega’s lidded eyes, and you felt your small shred of resolve shrink away even more. Your hands flew to his chest to push him away.

“Ka-Katsuki it’s just- just your heat, you don’t mean-“

“Don’t tell me what I do and don’t mean, alpha.” Katsuki was back to growling at you. His hands grabbed your wrists, pinned them down, and used his knees to keep them in place. He went back to cupping your face, red eyes boring into yours as he thought of what to say and a growl leaving him whenever you dared to look away. You were so, so obnoxiously pretty, it made it even harder to focus. Katsuki kept getting distracted by little details, like how your eyes shone and you kept biting your lip.

“You’re so fuckin stupid, ya know that? Of course, I fuckin want you, you’re my alpha- I don’t… I don’t care what other people think anymore, I just want you.” Katsuki’s tone was softer than you expected, and you could only gape at him as a blush quickly rose to your face. You knew he didn’t hate you, but hearing him say that lifted a weight off your shoulders you’d been carrying for who knows how long. The moment passed, all the softness went away as Katsuki leaned down to kiss you, and this time you kissed him back without any reservations.

#bnha #Bakugo x reader #omegaverse #bnha omegaverse #bnha x reader #omega Bakugo #alpha reader #reader insert #omegaverse imagine #bnha imagine

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tempenensis · 4 years ago

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Jujusanpo #8

They go to Sendai! Itadori eats too much and get stomachache even though they have mission. Title is “Business trip to Sendai”. Translation under the cut.

Itadori (I) : “Ooh, after long time not going home, this place is nostalgic after all. I’m home, I’m home, I’m home… Welcome home, welcome home, welcome home…”

Kugisaki (K): “Oi, Itadori…”

I: “See? Just like I said, it’s like Tachika—”

K: “Roundhouse kick! How can there are two Parco?!”

I: “Whaat?”

K: “This place is too urban! Never say that you are from countryside again!”

I: “It’s not a countryside! That’s why I said this place looks like Tachikawa when we went there!”

K: “Uugh”

I: “Eh? What is it?”

K: “Nothing here really feels like ‘City of Trees’ (1). This place is just Tachikawa.”

I: “I said only in the front of station. If we walk out a little bit, you can actually feel the ‘City of Trees’. Sendai is a good place, you know.”

K: “What are doing? Boasting? Don’t act like you are city people.”

I: “Then what should I do…?”

K: “By the way, where’s Fushiguro? Is he lost?”

I: “Huh? Now that you say it, he’s not here.”

K: “Oi, look over there. He’s alone messing alone with his phone. Is he playing erotic game?”

Fushiguro (F): “No, I’m not. I’m looking for beef tongue restaurant.”

I+K: “Beef tongue restaurant.”

F: “Didn’t you guys said you want to eat it?!”

I: “O-oh. My bad. You’re right.”

K: “So?”

F: “Ha?”

K: “Did you find the beef tongue restaurant?”

F: “I found it.”

K: “Why are you getting angry?”

F: “You should understand at least that! By the way Itadori, aren’t you one of locals? Don’t you know any restaurant?”

I: “Uhh… I didn’t really eat out a lot…”

K: “Locals actually don’t eat out that much, right? So, how about that restaurant?”

F: “For now, let’s go inside the station. The restaurant is called ‘Gyuutandoori’. It seems to be a famous restaurant and a lot people goes there.”

K: “Eeh? Isn’t better to go to other place that isn’t for tourist? I want to go around the city and feel the ‘City of Trees’ atmosphere!”

F: “Tch. I thought you’d be like that. How about here?”

K: “Ooh, a restaurant founded in ’52..”

I: “Aah, I know this place. It’s famous among the locals.”

K: “The restaurant that said to be the first to started business and the ancestor of beef tongue. Hm. Nice. Then, it’s decided.”

I: “Yes, let’s go!”

. . .

I+K+F : “Let’s eat!”

I: “Delicious! Is this a lie? Is beef tongue really taste this good?”

F: “Even if you say it, I don’t care.”

K: “The strip is fine, the smokiness too, this is a perfect beef tongue. On top of it, it’s simple salt taste.”

I: “Uh oh. I think I can eat twenty bowls of rice with this.”

F: “If you eat too much, you won’t be able to do the mission.”

I: “I’m coming to the mission, too! It’s alright!! Excuse me, seconds please!”

K: “By the way, why is it beef tongue goes with barley rice? It does also come with yam…”

F: “After the war, when the American army left Sendai, beef tongue and tails was left to the Japanese to be used. For that reason, beef tongue and tail soup were made into a set meal. After that, there was food shortage and white rice was substituted by barley rice.”

I: “The first person to thought of eating beef tongue was a genius.”

K: “The soup and soup stock are nice, it also has meat.”

F: “The misokatsu (2) also seems to be famous.”

K: “I also want to taste the one with strong taste but…”

I: “Well, since we took the trouble to come here, why don’t we try it?”

K: “If you eat too much and can’t move later, I‘m not taking care of you.”

I: “I told you, it’s alright! Excuse me, one misokatsu set meal, please.”

K: “The set meal? Fushiguro, what about the next restaurant?”

F: “Huh?”

K: “Since we took trouble to get here, let’s go to Sendai sweets, too!”

F: “Google it yourself!”

. . .

I+K: “Ooh, three colors!”

F: “This shop was founded during Meiji era, the three-colored mochi with zunda(3), sesame, and walnut fillings is famous.”

K: “If we’re talking about Sendai sweets, it can only be zunda mochi. Zunda is edamame, right? Why do you think sake snack(4) is made into sweets?”

F: “I don’t know.”

I: “But you somehow always end up telling us. Fushiguro is really kind.”

F: “It doesn’t matter if you end up not listening.”

K: “What is that, are you saying I never listen when you are telling me stuff?”

F: *ignore her, eating* “Hmm.. this walnut tastes good.”

K: “Listen to me! Anyway the right way is to eat the zunda first.”

I: “Hm. Hm. The sesame mochi is good too!”

K: “Oi!”

I: “Eat quickly, Kugisaki. Otherwise we won’t be able to go to the next shop.”

K: “Haa? You still want to eat?”

I: “Since we took the trouble to come here. I never eat a lot of local specialties. Oh! There’s also oshiruko (5)! Excuse me, one oshiruko please!”

F: “Kugisaki, you said you wanted to enjoy Sendai gourmet too, right? Just eat it already. We’re running out of time.”

K: “I’m eating!” *eating* “Zunda tastes delicious. The edamame is good, don’t look down on edamame’s potential.” *gulp* “Yosh! Next!”

I: “Wa-wait, I’m still— I’m squeezing it—”

. . .

K: “Eh? Why cold noodles?”

F: “Cold noodles seems to come from Sendai.”

I: “Eeeh?”

K: “You really don’t know a thing about locals. By the way, the place where cold noodle comes from… it keeps getting farther from ‘City of Trees’ feelings.”

I: “Um. Cold noodles is delicious! This taste good! Excuse me, gyoza and shumai, and Mappo too please.”

K: “How much are you eating?”

I: “Well, we ate sweets before? Now that we eat something salty, I’m getting hungry again.”

F: “You… you are really going to hurt yourself when we get to the mission.”

K: “Usually people choose three types.”

I: “I said it’s alright! Don’t underestimate my strength.”

K: “I don’t care.”

F: *sigh* “This cold noodles… eaten with sesame sauce is the most delicious.”

K: “As expected.”

F+K: *eating*

. . .

F: “Oi, Itadori. Oi, what are you doing?! We’re going to be late to mission!”

I: “Sorry.. wait a minute… I ate too much after all…”

F: “I told you so. How stupid can you be?!”

K: “Trying to hold back from buying and eating but finally gives in huh.”

I: “That last Kikufuku zunda with fresh cream now felt unnecessary. Mochi is dangerous— This is the first time in my life my stomach feel this full.”

K: “I thought you are an idiot, but I don’t know your stupidity goes this far.”

F: “I never saw an idiot like this.”

K: “Too stupid.”

I: “Don’t call me stupid too much.”

F+K: “What goes around comes around, stupid!”

(end)

(1) City of trees (Mori no miyako) is Sendai city’s nickname (2) Misokatsu : cutlets seasoned with miso (3) Zunda : edamame cream. The one recommended and bought by Gojo when they went to Yuuji’s school lol. (4) Sake snack : the snack eaten with sake when drinking. Edamame is a staple drinking snack. (5) Oshiruko : red bean soup served with mochi

#jujutsu kaisen #jujusanpo #dramacd translation #fushiguro megumi #itadori yuuji #kugisaki nobara #plant trio #ah yes some serotonin boost

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mae-gi-writes · 4 years ago

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Once Again (PT.3) | Iwaizumi Hajime (Haikyu!)

ONCE AGAIN | PART THREE

Summary

Iwaizumi’s broken marriage results in his five-year-old son trying to match him up with his primary school teacher, whom he thinks will make a wonderful replacement for a mother.

Genre: fluff, angst, f! Reader x dad! Iwaizumi

A/N: A little Iwa and Hoisuke sketch to accompany this chappie ❤ Thank you for all the love and support. My inbox has boomed since I last posted and I’m so grateful that it is being appreciated by y’all :,) <3

ON TO PART THREE! Let me know what you guys think of this part :) xx

PREVIOUS PART | NEXT PART

------

"Miss Y/N! You came!"

Hoisuke has a beam on his face the moment you step into the Iwaizumi household. That slightly calms your jittery nerves as you remove your shoes and step in, balancing the container of cookies in your hand.

"Hi Hoisuke," you greet back with a smile, "I brought your favourite cookies."

"Really?!"

"Really," you hand him the container with a grin, relishing as he oohs and aahs as he gets a whiff of the said baked treats. He beams up at you, "thanks miss Y/N. You're so cool."

"Not as cool as you are," you ruffle his hair and he giggles, before grabbing onto your hand and tugging you inside, "come, Daddy's warming up the pizza."

To be honest, part of you had combusted when you'd read over Iwaizumi's message repeatedly to make sure you weren't reading it wrong. The other part of you was screaming that this was definitely out of bounds and plus, could you consider this to be a sort of date?

No, of course not. Definitely not. He'd invited you over as a friend. And because Hoisuke liked you.

When you put it like that, it stung a little.

As Hoisuke drags you into the living space, you spot Iwaizumi grabbing for beers in the fridge and he nods at you, "hey."

"Hi," you reply, feeling a bit shy.

"The pizzas just got here," he says, chin jerking towards the pizza boxes already set upon the coffee table, surrounded by four plates, "a friend of mine is joining. I hope you don't mind."

"Oh no, not at all."

"Uncle Tooru! He's the best volleyball setter ever!" Hoisuke adds with a clap of his hands, eyes sparkling with excitement, "do you play volleyball miss Y/N?"

"Nope," you singsong, "I can't even catch a ball."

"But you always tell us to do well in PE."

"Do what I tell you and not--"

"Not what you do," Hoisuke sings along and you can't help but laugh before ruffling his hair fondly, "at least I know you're listening in class!"

"I always listen to you, miss Y/N."

"Unlike his father," Iwaizumi points out while walking over to the pair of you and handing you a beer can, "whom he never listens to."

"But you don't listen to me, daddy."

"Wha--yeah I do."

"Noooo uncle Tooru had to beg you to invite miss Y/N over when I told you a hundred times!"

You burst out into a fit of laughter just as Iwaizumi hollers out, "wha--No! That's--"

"Uncle Tooru said that you should man up and invite her otherwise he'll do it himself," his son chatters on, oblivious to the redness rising in his father's ears, "what does man up mean, miss Y/N?"

"Okay that's enough babbling," Iwaizumi's hand shoots out to press down onto Hoisuke's head. He nudges it towards the couch, "bring miss Y/N to the living room. Scoot."

"But--"

"Now." His father scowls. His son scowls back and you try to shove down the round of laughter bubbling up your throat, for they look like the spitting image of each other and they probably don't even know it.

You reach out, tugging Hoisuke by the shoulder, "come on then. What movie are we watching?"

It makes you slightly giddy on the inside to hear such words fall from Hoisuke's mouth. If there's one thing you've learnt from being around children is that they never lie. That, coupled with the way Iwaizumi's face has reddened a deep shade of tomato, is enough to cause a small tingling in your chest.

Since Oikawa is goig to be late, the three of you decide on watching Harry Potter -- Hoisuke's current obsession at the moment -- while munching on too-greasy pizza and washing it down with beer, coke for the minors. It's been a while since you've watched the series, thus finding yourself cheering and hollering along with Hoisuke which feels like you're seeing it for the first time all over again.

Multiple times, Hoisuke would turn and beam up at you, sometimes hugging your right arm and burying his face into your shoulder during action-packed scenes. You'd be lying to say you don't enjoy his warmth sticking to your side, sniffing the soft baby scent of his hair that still clings to him. The smell of childhood filled with innocence and maybe out of impulse, you pull him a little closer.

You're so immersed in the moment to notice the pair of coffee-coloured eyes are gazing at you with growing tenderness.

"Hellooo! Cool and Handsome Uncle Tooru is here!"

You jump at the sudden intruder's voice booming through the apartment, followed by Iwaizumi's scoff upon meeting your eyes. Hoisuke bounds up without delay, rushing to the door while crying out, "uncle Tooru!"

"Hi my beautiful boy!" Oikawa does not hesitate to sweep him up into his arms, kissing his cheek in affection and causing the child to giggle, "how's my favourite person doing? Has iwa-chan been treating you well?"

Hoisuke nods jovially, giggling some more when Oikawa pinches his cheek, "alright alright. You look dashing--oh, Iwa-chan! And this must be the famous Miss Y/N you've both been telling me about?"

You pink at his words but it doesn't faze Hoisuke in the least, "yeah! Isn't she pretty? She's the best teacher ever and her cookies are amazing!"

"H--Hi," you nod at Oikawa shyly, quickly avoiding his gaze to stop yourself from combusting with embarrassment. You've forgotten how beautiful this man actually is even though his reputation preceded him.

"Ahh it's nice to meet you Y/N," he flashes you a sweet smile, causing you to flush right down to your toes while you manage to stutter, "n--nice to meet you too, Oikawa-san."

"I see why Hoisuke and Iwa-chan like you," Oikawa turns to wink at Iwaizumi, "I approve!"

"Shut up Shittykawa," Iwaizumi scowls.

Oikawa gasps mockingly while covering Hoisuke's ears, "Iwa-chan! Not in front of the child and the lady!"

"I said fuck off--"

Oikawa's quick to slap his shoulder, hollering, "no swearing either! Oh gosh, excuse him Y/N. He gets very flamboyant whenever I'm around. If ever he does swear at you, it's just a matter of showing his affection."

You let out a laugh, spurred on by how red Iwaizumi's ears are, "I'll keep that in mind. I didn't know Hoisuke's dad was such a potty mouth," you say, narrowing your eyes playfully at the said man who scowls in return.

"Only when Oikawa's around," he states, crossing his arms over his chest with an expression that mimics his son's sulking.

"What's a potty mouth?" Hoisuke asks as he and Oikawa take their respective seats, the latter swiping a slice of pizza out of Iwaizumi's plate, who growls and kicks at his shin in turn.

The handsome man groans while you turn to Hoisuke, "potty mouth means someone who swears a lot."

"Like daddy?"

"Uhm--" you stutter, his response causing Oikawa to burst out laughing, "yes! What a bright little mind! Totally like your Uncle Tooru!"

Before Iwaizumi can bash Oikawa's head in, you hurriedly resume the movie with the excuse that the best part hasn't come up yet. That simmers down the atmosphere a little, all eyes now captivated by Harry Potter and his friends fighting against the ogre. Hoisuke gasps, nails digging into your arm as he latches on for dear life, all actions not going unnoticed by the pair of men.

"I like her," Oikawa mouths out to Iwaizumi, whose scowl deepens tenfold.

As per what the rumours stated, Oikawa is fun and easy-going to hang out with, a complete stark contrast to his best friend. You understand why people tend to gravitate towards him the more the evening wears on. It’s not just the fact that he puts you at ease and is naturally adept at making conversation, but it’s in the genuine spark of interest in his eyes, a look that says that he’s listening to you even if that might be faked on his part. It’s that expression stating that he cares, that makes you realize why Oikawa Tooru had been such a hotshot back in your high school days.

So why do your eyes still manage to find their way to the brooding figure on the other side of the couch, who is filled with nothing but spiteful comments and sarcastic responses?

Oikawa's little 'pssst' snaps your attention back to the present to find the sais man pointing at Hoisuke while mouthing "he's asleep." Indeed, your eyes travel down to Hoisuke's tiny figure slumped against your side and your mouth curves up in an affectionate smile.

You're about to shift him into your arms but Oikawa beats you to it, deftly slipping the boy into his arms and glancing between you and Iwaizumi with that same knowing smile that sets you on edge, "I'll tuck him to bed. Iwa-chan, buy me snacks would you?"

"Hell no--" Iwaizumi starts protesting only for Oikawa to walk out of the room, whistling softly without waiting for an answer. You sigh silently, pressing your lips together and glancing at Iwaizumi from the corner of your eye.

He averts his gaze, but not quickly enough, grunting softly, " wanna go?"

"To the convenience store?"

He nods, already moving to grab his jacket by the door as you scramble to join him while trying not to act so desperate to spend just a little more time with him.

The evening is colder than you'd expect, a mixture of wind and rain that makes him curse slightly while you hurriedly open up your umbrella the moment you step into the street. He nods, mutters a 'thanks' and guides you down the pavement where you jostle your way through evening strollers.

Quite surprised by the amount of movement on the street, you catch yourself asking, "is your neighbourhood always that busy?"

"I think there's a fancy fair around the corner," Iwaizumi sidesteps a man as he speaks, his shoulder brushing yours and sending warmth all the way down to your toes, "give me that."

Without warning, his hand engulfs yours holding the umbrella up and jumping at the contact, you quickly retract your hand, "thanks," you murmur, glad that the dark conceals the red splotches dotting your cheeks.

Your mind races to find something --anything -- to get you out of this awkward predicament. You'd die if he finds out how fast your heart is beating, "so uhm--Oikawa-san seems nice. You still keep in touch with him frequently then?"

"More like I can't get rid of his annoying ass," Iwaizumi mutters.

You chuckle, causing his eyebrow to quirk up, "what's so funny?"

"I'm just wondering whether Hoisuke will turn out like you when he grows up," you can't help but grin up at him, "you have a talent for dissing people."

"Only the ones worthy of my attention."

"Am I not worthy of your attention?" You tease.

He scowls down at you, "you're Hoisuke's teacher, that complicates things."

"In what way?" A passerby suddenly nudges against you and you stumble slightly, only to feel Iwaizumi's arm clasp your shoulder to steady you.

He's warm, your mind chants. And he smells good. Like citrus.

He, on the other hand, doesn't seem to notice your flustered countenance, "watch it," he barks out. Then, he turns back to answer your question, "how do I know you won't make Hoisuke fail his grade if I upset you too much?"

"Woah there mister. I didn't know I was that low on your list."

"That's not what I meant," he growls. A few weeks before might have caused you to fear his temper. But things are different now and you've come to know that it's just in Iwaizumi's nature to be so rough around the edges.

So you just bump your shoulders against him, flash him an understanding grin, and say, "I get it, hothead. No need to get riled up."

"What'd you call me?!"

Bursting into fits of laughter at how easily triggered he gets, you reach up to ruffle his hair, "down, boy--"

And that's when it hits you -- you are touching Iwaizumi's hair. Iwaizumi.

Oh fuck.

Your hand drops like wildfire, body instantly cowering away with a furious blush, "I'm so sorry," you squeak out, "that was not appropriate I know--"

Someone else bumps into your back which knocks you straight into the said man's chest. His hands find your waist on instinct as he steadies you both and for a minute, the world stops moving. Nothing matters, apart from the fact that your face is pressed against his torso, his scent overwhelming your nostrils with bliss, his warmth making you melt ever so slightly.

"Asshole," you hear his dim hiss like an echo in the back of your head. Dazed, your eyes stay glued to his shirt in hopes that he won't notice your embarrassment, "s--sorry about that," you squeak out.

Only then do you feel his gaze slide down to your face. He asks gruffly, "you okay?"

"Fine."

Dear god. Someone kill you now.

"Come on," and before you can protest, you feel his warm hand wrap around your own as he tugs you along, ensuring that you are tucked into his side while he weaves through the throng of people.

You're glad he can't see your face, nor the way your pulse is racing underneath your skin.

And the more you gaze at the strength of his shoulders, the more you are hit by a crumbling realization:

That you might be falling for Iwaizumi Hajime, and that might be the worst decision you’ve made yet.

----

He tells you about his married life when you sit outside the convenience store that evening, about how young and inexperienced he was, and how it had ended on pretty bad terms.

The fact that he even opens up about the topic surprises you, but nevertheless, you want to hope that it's his way of showing that your relationship isn't just tied by Hoosuke.

“Why...” you hesitate slightly, tentative, unsure whether one word will cause him to clam up, “why did it not work out? With you and Hoisuke's mother?”

It is to be expected that you are met with his silence. It’s stoic and filled with warning, and you quickly scramble for an out, “I’m sorry, that was inconsiderate of me,” you bow your head and bite your lip.

“She wanted more.”

His words catch you by surprise. You blink, before looking up at him. He doesn’t look away.

It takes a moment. Then, he murmurs:

“She wanted more...of everything. Things I couldn’t give her.”

It stuns you, that he’s so outright. Your mouth opens, but you don’t have anything to say, and you don’t realize that you’re holding your breath until he continues thickly, “she was never satisfied with what I gave her. Always complained that I wasn't enough of a man to sustain a family," he pauses, "I think she was envious. She worked in a big corporation as a financial auditor, and her friends -- well, they all live pretty decent lives. So when we always had our arms full with cleaning up after Hoisuke, they went to get cocktails and eat sushi. I guess she felt like she was missing out somewhere along the line."

It's not the things he says, it's more about the way he says it, voice so thick with emotion that you can hear the tears about to fall from his lips. Your own chest aches with sympathy and your fingers ache to reach out to just hold him.

But you're not that close. You know it's not within your boundaries.

Iwaizumi chuckles before your mind can form a coherent answer, "sorry. Didn't mean for it to get depressive."

You turn to look at him, gaze at the way the streetlight dances over his side profile and down his jawline, "You don't have to say sorry, Iwaizumi-san," pausing and unsure whether you should go on, you decide it's worth the risk, "and while I don't blame her priorities, well, ...was money really such an issue that she left you and Hoisuke behind?"

He shrugs half-hearted, "not my place to say. I was labelled the cheap bastard that wasn't worth shit when she decided to sleep with her ex."

Disgust coils in your stomach, but you decide on letting the anger simmer silently in the pit of your stomach. You don't realize, however, that your fist is clenched so hard into your lap until the warmth of Iwaizumi's fingers flutter over your own.

You look up in surprise only to find his dark orbs searching your face, "hey," he murmurs out quietly, voice surprisingly soft, " s' okay."

You flush against the chilly night air, "sorry," you mumble, "I just-- I know how it feels like. Not to feel like you're enough."

He doesn't respond, only watches you intently. You continue, "my boyfriend cheated on me back in college. I didn't know about it, until six months later."

Iwaizumi sucks in a breath and his fingers tense over yours. Your throat feels scratchy, "so I know the feeling."

"Asshole," is what slips out of his mouth. You chuckle half-heartedly, though with the way he isn't pulling away from your hand makes you feel warm and giddy on the inside.

You'd like to think that this little bit of time spent together has brought you closer, if only to share your woes. But one thing's for sure, you think to yourself as you slowly walk back to Iwaizumi's flat now that the crowd has thinned out, Is that you both have Hoisuke's best interests at heart.

And that is your top priority that you should not forget. Even if you can feel your breath tug in your chest every time your eyes linger a little too long upon each other's.

----

Ha, who the hell were you kidding?

It’s almost impossible to put the certain dark-eyed, dark-haired scowling face of a man out of your mind as the next week comes by. It’s even harder when Hoisuke is more than intent on spending time at your desk in-between classes, chatting on about what he and his father were up to throughout the week. And though you restrain yourself from asking too many questions burning at the back of your tongue, you can’t help but be drawn to the small snippets of Iwaizumi’s life as presented by his son. Even if it’s presented by his son.

So why do you find yourself back in his apartment the very next week with flour all over your clothes ans currently coaching Hoisuke to make figures with his clumsy five-year-old hands?

"This is hard miss Y/N," Hoisuke pouts, arms dropping to his sides, "can't you do it?"

"But that would be no fun," you nudge him playfully as you work on your own little cat figure, "all you need is patience, practice and love."

Glancing at the clock above Hoisuke's head to see that it's already past six in the evening, you wonder where Iwaizumi and Oikawa have disappeared off to. They hadn't told you anything, only that they were picking up some groceries. You guessed it was merely the thought of baking that made them so reticent.

"Don't worry miss Y/N. Daddy's coming back soon," Hoisuke says, as if knowing exactly the thoughts occupying your mind.

"Where did your daddy go anyway?" You decide to play along and ask casually as you move behind Hoisuke to help him mold tiny fingers.

"He and uncle Tooru said that they wanted you to taste the food from the sushi place they love," he then adds casually, almost like an afterthought, "daddy said you looked tired."

He said what now? Your eyebrows shoot up in curiosity.

The sound of the door opening grabs your attention, revealing a dishevelled Oikawa in the doorway with grocery bags hanging from his arms, "we're back with food!"

"Uncle Tooru! Look at the cookie I'm making!" Hoisuke doesn't hesitate to tug onto Oikawa's shirt and drag him to the kitchen counter to marvel at the little misshaped man. Dusting your hands onto your apron and turning to help Iwaizumi, your step falters upon noticing the undecipherable expression shadowing his features.

"Iwaizumi-san?" You blink.

It's gone in a flash, replaced by his usual scowl, "sorry we're late," he murmurs as you help him with the takeaways. You try not to think too much into the way he'd been staring, but your own heart skips a beat at the possibility that maybe--

Stop. You mentally slap yourself. Stop it right there.

Similarly, Iwaizumi is having the exact same mental debate.

Don't get him wrong. There isn't anything he loves about the fact that you've just created havoc in his kitchen. Had he insinuated it when he'd asked about your famous cookie recipe? Maybe. But shit man, call him old and cranky but the amount of cleaning up after the mess in his kitchen is something he isn't looking forward to.

But that small nugget of stress instantly melts away the moment he lays eyes on you and Hoisuke, together. Hoisuke is giggling, you are holding onto his hands, maneuvering them so as to make a semblance of a human limb. You're both dusted with flour, pink in your cheeks, and Iwaizumi swears his heart is going to drop out of his chest.

"Daddy daddy! Wanna see the man me and miss Y/N made?"

"That miss Y/N and I made," you corrected out of impulse, grinning as the child repeated what you saie with no less conviction, and Iwaizumi forced himself to move towards his son with nonchalance, "let me see."

Now that he thinks about it, he shouldn't be inviting you over so casually like it's a weekly thing. And maybe you don't even want to be there. Maybe you're just doing him a favour because you pity him. That's enough to make him sick in his stomach.

But this thought dissipates the more the evening wears on and the more he catches your soft eyes, the motherly affection you radiate towards his child, the gentle giggles falling from your mouth.

Iwaizumi wants it. He wants it so bad his heart aches.

And Oikawa seems to know exactly what he's thinking. Or maybe he's too obvious.

"This is so good," you groan in satisfaction while digging into the takeout sushi. Oikawa doesn't hesitate to pipe up, "right? Iwa-chan literally dragged my butt out of town for th-- fuck!"

He howls, clutching his leg where Iwaizumi had kicked at it in growing irritation and when you look at him in confusion, he feels his face grow red, "don't listen to him."

"Uncle Tooru, you're a bad man. You said the F word," Hoisuke chimes in, "it's okay though, daddy. You don't have to be embarrassed."

The redness of a fire engine can't compare to the flush riding the back of his neck. He wishes for the ground to swallow him at this very inetant, though his lips do quirk up in a smile seeing you burst out laughing before ruffling Hoisuke's hair.

"I see the way you look at her," Oikawa tells him a few nights later upon meeting up at the gym where they both train a few nights a week. It is also one of the few times where Hoisuke stays at his mother's place.

Iwaizumi grunts in response. He turns his head away to focus on his pushups, but if his best friend can deduce from his face alone, then that's an obvious way of showing his embarrassment when he is past the point of denial.

"She likes you too you know," Oikawa casually throws in, wiping the sweat from his face as he straddles a rowing machine, "she's like an open book."

"You don't know that," Iwaizumi hisses as he bends his arms, lift them with another grunt.

"Oh yes I do. And if you're smart you'd do something about it before someone else comes in to swoop her away."

As annoying as he is, Oikawa has a point. The nagging thought eats away at his subconscious mind the more Iwaizumi turns his feelings over in his hands. Despite this, he invites you out with him and his best friend one Saturday night and is mildly surprised that you accept so quickly.

"How have we never met if you went to Aoba Johsai?" Oikawa asks while munching on a french fry. As per his request for greasy comfort food, they'd ended up dragging you to one of their local eateries that make the best burgers in town, "would've noticed a cutie like you."

You can't help but roll your eyes, grinning, "simple, I didn't have any talent. I sang like I was deaf and had two left feet. And don't get me started on sports."

"You could've been a cheerleader," Oikawa smirks evilly, causing you to swat him and reply, "unless I wanted to come out of high school with two broken legs, which I did not."

"Good thing anyway, Iwa-chan hated those cheerleaders with a passion," Oikawa nudges him, "whenever I'd get bombarded with them he'd just scowl and they would scurry off like ants. They were scared shitless!"

"As if you didn't like watching those cheerleaders," you throw Iwaizumi a smug, pointed look with raised eyebrows, to which is scowl deepened. But you're used to it at this point, it doesn't even make you flinch.

"They were annoying and whiny. Why would I like them?" He muttered into his strawberry milkshake. A surprising revelation, considering his bitter, rough countenance.

"Cause they were hot."

"Cause they had long legs."

You and Oikawa blink at each other before you burst out laughing. Iwaizumi merely rolls his eyes, "idiots," but his mouth says otherwise, tugging up in amusement.

"Do you have a girlfriend, Oikawa-san?" You ask aa you munch on your burger.

"Bah, girlfriends don't agree with me."

"He's too much of a playboy to get himself a girlfriend," Iwaizumi mutters loud enough to reach your ears and you snort at the dagger-eyed stare Oikawa throws him, "I can't just give that," he motions towards his figure, "hot bod to anyone, Iwa-chan!"

"Mine's hotter than yours."

"Shut up! Why are you always so mean to me? You know I've been working my ass off for those back muscles!"

Your snort causes your milkshake to spurt from your nose and as Oikawa yelps and scoots furthest away from you, Iwaizumi doesn't hesitate to thrust a bunch of clean napkins in your face, chuckling deeply as he eyes you with the same fond amusement he's been denying himself of in the last few weeks.

Is it selfish? To want more of you than he can have? To feel the naked throb of his fingers that ache to reach out and just tuck your hair behind your ears?

Of course it is. If he does that, he'll cross a line he isn't quite certain he's ready for yet.

Daddy, do you really really like Miss Y/N? Hoisuke's voice is as clear as water that same evening, after he's tucked his son in, after all lights have dimmed in his flat and he sprawls atop his bed with heavy eyelids and a content stomach.

Yes, he thinks to himself as his eyes slowly slip shut, I think I do.

Fuck.

-----

Taglist: @multi-fandom-fanfic, @168-cm-png, @bakugouswh0r3, @yatoatyourservice, @ayocee, @marvel-ing-at-it-all, @astrolcve, @lilith412426, @elianetsantana, @schleepyflocci, @oohlalie , @kaashikoi , @tendo-sxtori , @iwaroses , @its-the-aerieljeane , @lalalemon101 , @lanaxians-2 , @dora-the-grownup , @sharin-gone , @nekomavsnohebi , @crayonwriting , @imafan , @random-fandom-girl-24 , @bucinhajime , @izumikunmy , @iwaoioioi , @evesmores , @meri-soni-meri-tamanna , @paintedstarres , @okadaxo , @michaki

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blessednereid · 3 years ago

Text

Pity the Living

Daniel Sharman x Reader Series

A/N: The Much Requested, and By Requested, I mean @rogershoe wanted me to write this, MY DANIEL SHARMAN FANFICTION!!!!!! The character that Y/N plays is based on my OC for FTWD and is not an actual character in FTWD. Basic Premise of the setting for this chapter is that they're in high-school/ secondary school. But for the majority of the story(minus flashbacks) it's set in 2016/17 when s3 of FTWD was filmed.

Story Summary: When (Y/N) (L/N) reunites with a high-school friend on the set of the job she's been working on for the past 2-3 years, not only is she excited to work with the guy who inspired her to go into acting, but to hear about what he's done since she's seen him. But the more they talk, the more she realizes, this reunion is not going the way she had planned.

CW: Cursing? brief mention of alcohol, anxiety, mentions of food, fake dagger, fake blood, bets,

☆◦ 。＼｜／。◦☆

Career Day

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Most of the students around you were chorusing to the tune of your school anthem, but not you. You had heard the melody and sung it almost a million times. Whether you were exaggerating or not, not even you knew. Instead, you were whispering and laughing with one of your best friends, Daniel Sharman.

You met Daniel when you first came to the school. You didn't know many people. You didn't even know yourself in this place. It was a completely foreign experience, but he stuck by your side and showed you around.

Since then, you had made friends, joined the swim team, learned your way around the school without ending up in the boys' restrooms instead of the girls' ones. Despite not needing Daniel to show you around anymore, he still provided plenty of comedic support and pick-me-ups and was a great mate all around.

Your teacher had just finished introducing all the parents who were presenting at career day. The assignment being after the presentations were finished, you were supposed to think about what you wanted to be in the future. You had no idea what you wanted to be. But of course… Daniel did.

"An actor."

"An actor?" he nodded. "Like Macbeth?"

"No, Macbeth is a character. An actor is a person who plays the character."

"Why an actor?"

"Dunno. Just seems right."

You frowned. "Huh, that's nice. Knowing what you want to be."

"You could always try acting. It's worth a shot."

"Hah, if I ever tried acting, it would probably be when I'm old, senile, and look like Betty White."

"Oh, come on. You're a great actress!"

"What's that supposed to mean, Sharman?" you gasped.

"Just that you tell fibs and stories as if they were the truth. That's all acting is."

"I DO NOT!"

"How did you convince your mum that your dog jumped onto the table and ate the cake without making any noise last weekend, then?" You opened your mouth to speak before closing it.

"Cat got your tongue?" he teased.

"Shut up, Sharman."

☆◦ 。＼｜／。◦☆

L/N Residence

☆◦ 。／｜＼。◦☆

You and Daniel were both swimming in the pool in your backyard when Daniel asked you the question.

"Did you think about it?"

Still floating, you asked, "About what?"

"Acting."

You laughed incredulously. "You were serious?"

"Of course I was." He swam closer to you and pulled your leg down, making you flop around and splash water.

"WHAT THE HELL!"

"Was just trying to get your attention," he remarked innocently.

You coughed. "You had it."

"Picture this," he waved you off. "Us, on the red carpet-"

"Who's red carpet?"

"Does it matter? We'll be each other's dates anyways."

"Why is that?" you asked.

"Because we're best friends."

"What if one of us has a boyfriend or girlfriend?"

He shrugged. "Ok, whatever. We're on the red carpet separately. It's both of ours red carpet-"

"So, does that mean we're in a movie together?"

"Yes, Y/N," he muttered exasperatedly.

"But that's impossible?"

"Why do you say that?"

You leaned closer to his ear. "BECAUSE I'M NOT BECOMING AN ACTOR."

He jumped away from you, proceeding to splash you with water.

"Mark my words. I know talent when I see it."

You sighed. "Could this just be you not wanting to be lonely in the acting world?"

He jutted his lip and spoke in a whiny voice. "Maybe…"

You laughed before splashing a giant wave of water at him. While he still had water in his eyes, you dove under and pulled him down.

He flailed around before his head popped up, and he calmed down.

"WHAT THE HELL!"

"PAYBACK, SHARMAN!"

☆◦ 。＼｜／。◦☆

Announcement

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The intercom gave a heavy buzz, and static-y noises ran amok over the building before a voice actually came through the speakers.

"Hello, Teachers, Students, and Faculty. Welcome back to school. We hope that you all enjoyed your holidays and got the rest you needed to pay attention in class today," the last part was passive. Your principal gave more announcements for clubs and sports around the school, such as upcoming games or reminders for students to buy the school yearbook.

You were nodding along interested, or looking for interest really when something caught your best friend's attention.

"The school will also be hosting its first-ever play, Romeo and Juliet. Interested people should report to the music room before the end of the week to receive information."

You saw Daniel's eyes widen only moments before he spoke up. "Hey," he waved at you. "You should audition!"

"Daniel, are you insane?"

He chuckled, "No, but I think you'd like it."

You tried arguing, but he wasn't taking no for an answer. "You're the one who said you didn't know what you wanted to do after you graduated. Doing this cannot hurt."

"Yeah, it can't hurt until I trip on my costumes and break my neck!"

"That rarely ever happens," he said exasperatedly. "Ok, how about this? You audition, and if you end up getting a role and actually doing the play, I'll give you fifty pounds."

You squinted. "Do you even have fifty pounds to give me?"

"Do you even have to ask," he feigned shock in the accusation? You gave a sour face before he truthfully answered. "Fine, I don't have it now. But I will by the time the play comes around."

"What do I get just for auditioning?"

"I'll convince my mum to make that cake you like."

"Fine."

"BUT!" he exclaimed. "You have to audition for Juliet."

"You're kidding?"

He laughed. "No, I'm not. You have to audition for Juliet."

"I hate you," you mumbled before sighing a whispered 'fine.'

He gave a toothy smile. "Then we have a deal."

☆◦ 。＼｜／。◦☆

Auditions

☆◦ 。／｜＼。◦☆

You reluctantly walked onto the stage, Daniel's widening grin so visible in the audience. He said that he only put his name on the audition sheet so he could watch the auditions. He would've already been gone by the time it was his turn.

"Hello, My name is Y/n L/n, and I am auditioning for Juliet," your lips pressing into a straight line after saying the sentence.

You stammered through your first few lines. "Sh-Shall I speak ill of him— that is my husband?" You said with a laugh.

"Ah," you paused and clicked your tongue. "Poor my lord, what tongue shall smooth thy name… When I, thy three-hours wife, have mangled it?"

You said your following line in an accusatory manner. "But wherefore, villain... didst thou kill my cousin?" you said, though your voice squealed trying to pronounce 'didst.' "That villain cousin would have killed my husband."

"Back, foolish tears, back to your native spring!" Your voice rose and fell several octaves. "Your tributary drops belong to woe, Which you, mistaking, offer up to joy." Fake tears spring to your eyes, your voice cracked, and you began slowly falling against an invisible wall.

You looked down at your paper for what to say next. "My husband lives, that Tybalt would have slain; And Tybalt's dead, that would have slain my husband. All this is comfort; wherefore weep I then?" You wiped your cheeks dramatically.

"Some word there was, worser than Tybalt's death, That murd'red me. I would forget it fain;" your lips quivered, and you sucked in deep, heaving breaths before speaking your line.

"But O, it presses to my memory. Like damnèd guilty deeds to sinners' minds! 'Tybalt is dead, and Romeo--banishèd!" You shouted.

You stood back up in a startling jump, and with a proud smile, you said triumphantly, "And Scene!"

The directors and some students in the audience, especially Daniel, gave a round of applause before the director dismissed you.

You took the steps to the stage and sat next to Daniel as the director called the next student to audition.

"You were amazing! The director might as well have given you the role right then and there."

You laughed, "Hang on, charmer. There were a bunch of Juliet's who literally said that entire thing so… fluently. I stammered through the whole thing."

"But you showed more emotion than anyone else. You only had a week to prepare. The actual show will be like child's play."

"They want people who can memorize and recite. The emotion can be added later, but it's worth nothing if they forget their lines."

"There is such a thing called improvising for a reason," he reassured.

"Who in their right, bloody minds wants to improvise Shakespeare?"

He turned his head and chuckled before waving a five-pound note in front of your face. "Here, I got to go before they call me, but you earned this at least."

"Five pounds for being forced to audition for a stupid play so you can prove a point? Wow, you must really fancy me, huh, Sharman?" you said sarcastically.

"Goodbye, L/n," he whispered before sneaking out the back door of the auditorium.

"Alright, next up. Daniel Sharman!" The director shouted your friend's name a few more times before giving up.

☆◦ 。＼｜／。◦☆

Headmasters Office

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A week after your audition, you were called to the headmasters' office. Thus is the cause of the curious looks from your classmates. Oohs and Aahs flooded your ears as you grabbed your bag and headed out the door to the front of the school.

When you got to the front of the building and went into the headmasters' office, you saw the Theatre director, Ms Parker, standing behind the desk. "Headmaster Leo allowed me to use his office to do this. Isn't that cool?"

Ms Parker was one of the younger teachers in school. She was twenty-four, and this was her first year teaching after receiving her bachelor's degree in education and a master's degree in music production. A fact she could astoundingly ramble about for fifteen minutes. As proven at the auditions.

"I didn't want to call you to the theatre room. That would be too predictable, correct?" You'd come to realize she was a very eccentric woman. "I have called you in here to inform you that you have been selected to perform in this year's play of Romeo and Juliet."

A wave of shock coursed through your body, and you were sure it reflected on your face. "Are you sure?"

"Darling, I'm positive!- your audition was totally spectacular! So brilliant-in fact- that I am completely sure in my choice to make you our female lead- Juliet!"

"What!" Your eyes widened into a blank stare. Your thoughts were running rampant in your mind. You thought that performing on the stage would be a breeze when you weren't the lead.

"Ms Parker, I didn't actually want the part of Juliet! It's just that my friend dared me to audition for Juliet! Is there no way I can get a smaller part? I'm no Juliet. The show would be ruined," you rambled.

The directors' facial expressions softened, "Darling, you are the only choice. None of the other people who auditioned can even compare to the amount of passion you produced in that audition. I am determined to have you as our Juliet."

You whimpered out an "Ok." Professors had a strange way of convincing you to do extra credit assignments or things that aren't necessary.

"We have a chemistry read for you and a few of our other choices for Romeo after school today. Do you need to contact a parent to let them know where you'll be?"

"Uh, yes, please."

After you made your call, you walked back to your classroom with shaky hands. The class period was almost over, but you had to tell Daniel that you had gotten a part in the show. Not just any part- THE PART!

You shuffled into the classroom reluctantly. All eyes were on you as every student had assumed you'd been in trouble. Either suspended, expelled, or told your parents were going to have a sit-down with the headmaster.

You took your seat next to Daniel before taking out a piece of paper and writing out a note, encompassing the words, "I got the part!"

You slid the sheet discreetly onto his desk. When he read it, his eyes widened, and he quietly moved his hands toward yours, beckoning for a high five.

☆◦ 。＼｜／。◦☆

First Rehearsal

☆◦ 。／｜＼。◦☆

After the chemistry read, the role of Romeo was given to a kid named James Mercer-Allen got the part. Though it was more because the directors were starting to become tired.

The next day was the first rehearsal. Swimming season was last semester, so there was no clash in schedules with the play.

"Alright, this rehearsal is to get acquainted with the stage, your fellow actors, and directors," she insisted. "Now, let's introduce ourselves. Can our Romeo please stand up?"

James stood up and gave a brief introduction. You were called on next. You stated your name, "I was on the swim team last semester, and I'm in my thirteenth year. I hope I can do this role justice."

More students stood up to introduce themselves. The entire process took more than thirty minutes.

The next thing to happen was that the rest of the students were called to recite lines for various roles. The only parts that had been cast preliminarily were Romeo and Juliet.

You and James had sat on the wooden stools unless there was a scene going on that needed Romeo and/or Juliet.

By the end of the first rehearsal, the majority of the speaking roles were cast. You went home exhausted but not expecting the conversation that waited for you.

☆◦ 。＼｜／。◦☆

The Talk

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"We're moving?" you shouted at your parents from your seat across from them in the sitting room. "What do you mean we're moving."

"Honey, your dad got a job in the states, so we have to move," your mother argued.

"But what about school? No school will take me in the middle of the year, and it's my last year of secondary school. I don't want to spend the rest of my last year knowing nobody."

Your dad, the man of the hour, spoke up. "Dear, we're moving at the end of the year. After school ends."

"But- What about Uni?"

"You said you were taking a sabbatical year!"

"Yes, so I could intern in London!"

"Can't you intern in California?" Your mother whined.

"We're going to California? It's the furthest state?"

Your dad attempted to reassure you but failed. "Darling, it won't be that bad. Maybe you'll like it there more than you like it here!"

"I could never like anywhere more than I like it here!"

You agreed to go to your room and spent the rest of the day there. Later on, after you finished moping, you ringed up your closest friends to tell them you were moving. You did that until you were so tired you fell asleep on the phone with Sarah before you even called Daniel.

☆◦ 。＼｜／。◦☆

Confrontation

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"Why am I hearing from everyone besides you that you're moving?" Daniel appeared out of thin air behind you, and the accusation was an assault on your conscience.

You could lie and tell him that you wanted to reveal that to him in person, or you could just tell him the truth- say you fell asleep. Mix-and-Match? You ended up just telling the truth. "I fell asleep when I was making some of my other calls. I was going to tell you, I swear!"

"Why didn't you call me first. I'm your best friend?"

"That's why! It was too hard. I kept putting it off and putting it off and putting it off because I didn't want to tell you, I don't want it to be true, and telling you of all people would make it feel real."

"Why can't you stay for Uni?"

"I already told my parents I was taking a gap year. I didn't apply to any colleges."

"Crap!" he sighed. "Ok, well, we're going to have to make the most of it. And! You're getting a going away party!"

"Daniel, I don't need-"

"No debate! You are getting a going away party!"

☆◦ 。＼｜／。◦☆

Opening Night

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Four months later, after all the rehearsals and memorizations of lines. After much running around the entire film department, it was finally opening night, and your nerves were shot.

You were scrambling all morning to find everything you needed. All your costumes were at the school, but you still needed to bring your black leotard, skin-coloured tights, and wear your hair in an up-do style.

You decided to do your skincare routine, but your panic got the best of you, and you forgot what every single product was used for.

Daniel came over and helped you get ready but found you practically hyperventilating.

Your parents drove you both to the theatre, and when Ms Parker told you that Daniel couldn't be backstage, you promptly told her that he was your emotional support. After much arguing, she finally let him backstage.

Around an hour before showtime, the director told Daniel that he had to go wait in the audience if he already bought his ticket or that he had to go do it now.

Before he left, he gave you a pep-talk. "Hey, so one time, I was in this play, and the idea was that I was expelled, and there was a piece of paper I had to give my 'mother,' but I lost it. So we had to improvise, but I couldn't find the paper, and I felt horrible. So just know, even if you forget your lines, you must improvise, and remember, it still probably won't compare to the embarrassment I felt that day. So you can laugh at my humiliation. "

You chuckled, "I will. Ok, go before you get in trouble."

"Ok, me, our parents and all your friends will be in the front row. I've already reserved the entire row. I brought a whole bag of jackets just for that reason!"

"You can't do that," you said in between cackles.

"For you, I'll do anything," he grinned.

A few hours later and the show was almost done. "What's here? A cup, closed in my true love's hand? Poison, I see, hath been his timeless end," you wept.

"O, churl! Drunk all and left no friendly drop to help me after? I will kiss thy lips; Haply some poison yet doth hang on them, to die with thine restorative." You leaned over James and let your hair fall to the side of your head to cover your face. You pulled back without actually kissing James.

"Thy lips are warm."

A whispery voice came from offstage, "Which way?" The cue for you to take the poison, which was actually cranberry juice.

"Yea, noise? Then I'll be brief. O happy dagger!" You grabbed the dagger and brought it near your chest. "This is thy sheath;" you drew the fake knife back three inches from your chest and stabbed it to where the bag of more cranberry juice was and punctured the bag. 'Blood' soaked through your dress. "There rust, and let me die." You fell dramatically onto the altar and waited for the scene to end as the crowd cheered.

After the show, you dashed into the crowd where your friends and family waited for you. Ovations and Applauses were passed, lauded boxes of chocolates and gorgeous roses were given.

When you got to Daniel, he practically tackled you with a hug. "I actually thought you died for a split second. The blood looked so real."

"Daniel, most people don't bleed that fast, do they?"

"I don't know but fear kicked in, and I couldn't make sense of anything."

You grinned and almost went to your parents before Daniel grabbed your arm. "You don't have a date to the Leavers ball, do you?"

"No, I don't. Why?"

He sighed. "Well, I was thinking that you could go with me. I don't have a date either."

You squinted, thinking there was some ulterior motive behind his actions. "Ok, I'll go with you if you give me the money you owe me before then."

"It's right here," he smiled.

Your face scrunched up, but you reluctantly agreed. You only had a month of school left, and you might as well spend it having fun with your friends.

☆◦ 。＼｜／。◦☆

The Leavers Ball and the Getaway Party

☆◦ 。／｜＼。◦☆

You were dressed in a light blue, pleated, Mikado prom dress that cut off at mid-thigh. You had black wedges on your feet and a black pearl-beaded bracelet on your arm.

You were wearing a half-up, half-down style that framed your face and a silver necklace with a circle-shaped diamond.

You were sitting in the parlour when Daniel rang the doorbell. He was ten minutes late.

"Sorry," he said when your dad answered it. "I know I'm late. I was picking up Kat and James."

Kat and James were your and Daniel's respective friends who'd started last year after you and Daniel introduced them.

"Hi," you popped out of the shadows. "Alright, Mom, Dad, we're late, so we're just going to get goi-"

"Wait! I have to take pictures! Go get Kat and James."

"No, Mom. No pictures!"

"It's only right. I just want a few. We can take it outside."

You sighed but reluctantly caved into your mother's will.

The four of you took pictures outside of Daniel's Jeep Wrangler. You took ones with silly faces, just girls, just boys, and ones with all four of you before your parents allowed you to leave.

You were forty minutes late, and the ball was already in full swing by the time you got there.

You got on the dance floor immediately because one of your favourite songs was playing, but the DJ switched the song as soon as you found a decent spot. It was a slow song. You chuckled, and Daniel put his hands on your waist.

"Well, this is awkward."

A few minutes later, Daniel posed an interesting question.

"Did you know that I had a crush on you when you first came to school?"

"Uh, you stammered. "No, I didn't know that."

"Yeah, I did. It was short, though. Surface-level."

"Oh," you said. "Should I take offence to that?"

"What?" His eyes widened in realization with what he said. "No, that's not what I meant. You have an amazing personality. I just meant that… I just meant I like you more as a friend than to ruin that with any of those feelings."

"Oh, ok. You wouldn't have, though."

"I wouldn't?"

"No, everyone needs an ego boost every once in a while."

"Haha!"

"And besides, I've had feelings for you at one point too. But it was very cliche, so I tried to shake it as hard as I could."

"Oh?" He raised his eyebrows. "And did you?"

"Like I said, as hard as I could. If it's still there somewhere, it's buried very deep, so much so that I was embarrassed."

"Embarrassed to like me?"

"I mean embarrassed to try and make my life seem like some movie."

"Oh, well, if you did, it would've just made you that much better as an actress. Speaking of that, would you consider acting in the least?"

"Maybe, now that I'm leaving, it's basically the last thing I have to connect me to you."

"No," he said, pointing to your bracelet. "You have that."

You had forgotten that it was Daniel who gave it to you, but the realization brought a smile to your face. "Oh yeah, I'll never take it off."

Later on, long before the ball ended, you saw many of your friends leaving.

"Hey, are you ready to go?" Daniel approached you.

"Where is everyone going?"

He wriggled his eyebrows. "Afterparty!"

"But it's not over?"

"Quit being a party popper and just come with us, L/N!"

You gave in, something you did a lot, and you all started driving. When you got there, you realized you were at Daniel's house.

"The afterparty is at your house?" you asked.

"Well…" James answered.

Kat joined in. "It's really an afterparty!"

"This is your going away party!" Daniel finished.

"But I'm not going away for another month."

"Well, now you have an entire month for people to give you gifts and stuff, and you don't have to worry about the party!" He reasoned.

"But why did it have to be after the Leavers ball?"

"Because you're already in a dress, and it has to be a surprise! Surprise!" Kat exclaimed.

"Alright, fine!"

The entire night you partied and danced, and though you didn't drink alcohol, plentiful amounts of pop and mocktails were passed around. The music was a delight to your ears with all your favourite songs. There were chips and pizza with all your favourite toppings.

"This party is awesome!"

Daniel grinned. "Well, I am an amazing party planner if I do say so myself."

☆◦ 。＼｜／。◦☆

Airport

☆◦ 。／｜＼。◦☆

Daniel's parents drove your family to the airport. Your parents had sold the car. Your dad would return in a week to close a deal on the house. Everything was official, and now you were leaving.

You got out of the car, and the tears forcefully began to fall.

"I'm really gonna miss you, jerk," you said disdainfully to Daniel.

He chuckled. "I'm going to miss you more."

"Impossible!"

He wiped the fallen tear from your eye, and for a moment, you could see every single multi-coloured speck in his eyes and noticed how sometimes they looked blue, and at others, they looked grey or green.

You noticed the curvature of his smile and the chisel of his jawline.You saw the hurt in his eyes that said, 'why do you have to go? You're killing me,' and wanted to never move from that position.

He continued to rub the tears that fell onto your cheek, and the sad moment was as sheltered as it could be. You felt safe with him, in his arms, just looking at his face and being reminded of how he comforted you in a place that felt as familiar as Oz felt to Dorothy.

"What am I gonna do without you?" you whispered.

"Get at least one acting job, get an assistant and an agent, I'll do the same thing, and then either one of us has our assistants reach out to our agents, so we get back in touch in case we ever lose touch."

He sounded so grave that you couldn't help but laugh. "That's assuming I do become an actress, Daniel."

"You're right," he whined. "But don't forget me."

"I promise."

And you tried to keep that promise. Throughout your first year, you interned at UCLA, working in the lab. You then applied to go to school there, and you still tried to keep Daniel in your mind. Maintaining a social life on campus combined with schoolwork already wasn't easy. However, you still wouldn't let yourself forget your best friend.

It wasn't until you entered your senior year and you were about to graduate that he started to wane in your memories. The things you did together became obsolete as new friends and memories replaced the old. The things he taught you were thrown out to make space for the new lessons you learned each day.

Even when you did become an actress, you never really remembered why you decided to. You remembered that your friend pushed you to do that play, but it was almost ten years ago, and for the life of you, you couldn't remember his name.

But you did do it, first as an extra, then a body double, and then you started getting l roles on smaller shows. But your big break was getting a quasi-lead role on the spin-off of a big television show, The Walking Dead. For two years, you enjoyed going to conventions and playing the complex character, Valeria Bishop, and you thought you had it all figured out.

But life has a funny way of coming full circle and throwing you a curveball that knows you off course and changes your life.

#Daniel Sharman x reader #daniel sharman fic #Daniel Sharman imagine #Daniel Sharman fluff #Daniel Sharman angst #very angsty #ftwd imagine #twd imagine #troy otto imagine #dylan obrien imagine #that last one is for exposure #I have no regrets

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