#nobody understands me like him i’m dead serious

[waitimcomingtoo]

The Script

Pairing: Peter Parker x reader

Synopsis: you and Peter break up once you find out his secret and he falls apart

Masterlist

“We broke up.”

The words fell out of Peter’s mouth as he pulled his mask from his tear stained face. Ned turned around in his desk chair and pulled his earbuds out of his ears.

“What? No way.” He laughed dismissively at the assumed joke until he noticed the red rim around Peter’s eyes.

“It’s true. She broke up with me. She doesn’t want to be with me anymore.” Peter repeated through a childlike cry.

“But I thought you had a date tonight? Did something happen?”

10 minutes earlier

“Peter?”

Peter froze in the alleyway and stopped looking for his backpack. He turned around slowly and saw you standing there under a harsh street light with his backpack in your arms. The webs he had shot on it to keep it secured against the wall were still hanging off.

“It’s you? You’re the Spiderman?” You asked in a voice barely above a whisper. You were looking at him with a mixture of betrayal and confusion as you clutched his backpack like you were a child with a teddy bear. Peter still had his mask on so he stayed dead silent.

“Say something.” You seethed, a newfound anger in your voice and eyes. Peter gulped and nodded his head, knowing there was no point in lying.

“I am.” He said, making your face crumble when you heard his voice. You held the backpack tighter and stared at him as your face crumbled.

“What are you doing out here? Did you follow me?” Peter asked you.

“No. You never showed up to our date. I called you when I was walking home. Alone. I heard your phone ringing in this alley way. It was in your backpack. Here’s your stupid fucking backpack.” You said through clenched teeth and threw the backpack at him. He caught it with ease and dropped it to the floor.

“There have been Spiderman sightings on Youtube for years. Years. You never told me?” You asked and surveyed every inch of his suit as you saw it up close for the first time.

“Nobody knows.” He said quickly. “I mean, May knows. And Ned. And a handful of people I work with. But that’s it, I swear. I don’t expect you to understand this all right now but please believe that I have to keep my identity a secret for my safety. And your safety too.”

“You don’t expect me to understand?” You laughed and tilted your head to the side as if to ask if he was serious.

“I just mean that I know this is a lot to process right now.”

“It’s not a lot. You’re the Spiderman and you never thought that was something I should know. I had to find out on accident after getting stood up for the hundredth time. But, sure, I’m glad Ned knows.” You nodded and looked up so your tears wouldn’t fall.

“I would’ve have told you eventually. I just needed more time. If people knew who I was, everything would change. I wouldn’t be able to help people there way I do now. I couldn’t tell anyone.”

“Since when am I just “people”and “anyone” to you?” You shook your head. “How could you keep this from me for this long? We’ve been dating for over a year. And I’ve known you since middle school. How much time did you need?“

“I don’t know. It just never felt like the right moment to say it. I wanted to tell you so many times.”

“You just never did.” You shrugged. Peter recognized that the situation was quickly escalating and you were not reacting the way he always imagined you would.

“I don’t understand why you’re getting upset right now.” Peter said calmly. “I thought you’d be happy to understand why I have to miss so many dates and flake all the time.”

“You thought I’d be happy to learn that you’ve been lying to me for our entire relationship?” You laughed again as tears fell down your face.

“I wasn’t lying.” He defended. “I just couldn’t tell you the truth yet.”

“Yet. Right.” You smiled tightly. “We’re over a year in but haven’t gotten to the point where you can be honest with me. I see.”

“I am honest with you. This is the only thing I’ve ever lied to you about. I promise.” He said and tried to step closer to you. You immediately stepped back and hugged yourself.

“I thought you loved me.” You said as you stared at the ground.

“I do love you. How can you even question that?” He laughed in shock. You looked up at him and he saw that your anger had turned to sadness.

“Peter, you stood me up countless times. Tonight included. You let me cry myself to sleep for so many nights. All those times I walked home alone after already getting to the restaurant or watched movie by myself through tears because you couldn’t bother to show up. You knew I was feeling insecure lately about the distance between us but you still decided to say nothing to cue me in as to why it was happening. Do you know how painful it is to feel someone you love pulling away and have them tell you your suspicions are all unfounded? How long would you have let me feel that way if I hadn’t caught you tonight?”

“I…I don’t know. I’m sorry. I didn’t think about how this was affecting you.” Peter said quietly.

“Of course you didn’t.”

“Look, I know this is really upsetting now, but I’ll make it up to you. I promise.” Peter said and put his hands on his shoulders. You pushed him off of you and took a step back. Peter gulped and wondered how he was going to make it out of this conversation alive because he had never seen you reject him like this.

“You always say that. And you never do. I have a long list of things I’m still waiting for you to make up for. Why should I believe this time is different?” You asked him and folded your arms.

“It will be different. I promise. I’ll fix this. Stop walking away from me.” Peter pleaded and reached out to touch your face.

“It’ll be different. You promise. You say the same thing every time. And yet, I always end up crying over you. I shouldn’t have to cry over a relationship I’m still in.” You said as you pushed his hand away from you. An anxiety built in Peter’s stomach as he was used to you telling him it was fine every time he had disappointed you in the past. This time was clearly different and he didn’t know what to do. You turned and started to walk away from him so he quickly followed after.

“Where are you going?”

“Home, Peter.” You said without stopping.

“No. You can’t leave now. We have to talk about this. I’ll listen to whatever you have to say. You can take it all out on me. Just don’t go, please.” Peter begged as he stepped in front of you to stop you.

“I don’t want to cry anymore, Peter. I’m done. This is done.” You cried and pushed past him to keep walking. Peter froze when he heard you use that word and felt his blood run cold.

“What? Done? Done with what?”

“With you. With us. With all of it. I’m not doing this anymore. I’m breaking up with you.” You said as you turned around to look at him. Peter felt his stomach drop and could barely hear you over the sound of his heart pounding in his ears.

“What? We can’t just break up. I love you.” He protested as he got that feeling in his nose that told him he was about to cry.

“That’s not good enough for me.” You shook your head.

“What?”

“You can say you love me as much as you want but until you prove that, I can’t be with you. I won’t be with you. I’m done.” You repeated and turned to walk away again. Peter quickly ran after you and dropped down to his knees in front of you.

“No, no. No. Please. Don’t leave me. Please. I’m so sorry. I’m sorry, baby. Just give me one more chance.” He begged as he took both your hands. You looked down at him for a long time as you thought things he wished he could hear.

“Please.” He whispered, barely audible. You looked up again but it was no use to stop your tears from falling.

“Say something.” He pleaded and squeezed your hands.

“I’m saying goodbye.” You said after a beat of silence. Peter made the mistake of letting his hopes build up during that silence. He stayed on his knees as you pulled your hands out of his and walked away. His tears fell rapidly down his face and it wasn’t long before his heartache turned into misplaced anger. He got off his knees and turned in your direction.

“You’re not being fair.” He called down the street. You stopped in your tracks and turned around.

“Excuse me?”

“This isn’t fair. I didn’t ask to be bitten. I didn’t ask for this life and all this responsibility. But it happened to me and I’ll never know why but I do know that I have to do something about it. I wish I could be a normal guy my age and take my girlfriend on dates, but I can’t. I have a duty to this city to protect it. I hate that it’s true but sometimes, I have to chose helping someone in need over spending time with you. You’re acting like I went out of my way to neglect you on purpose.”

“I understand that you didn’t choose this, but you could have told me all of that from the start. Then maybe I would’ve been more sympathetic. But right now, all I can think about is every little lie you told me to keep me in the dark. Oh, I’m sick. Oh, I have homework. Oh, I have to help my boss with something. Tonight, you told me you weren’t gonna make it to our date because your aunt needed help with something. You didn’t even care enough to lie about what she needed help with. But, yet, at least I got a lie tonight. Sometimes you just don’t show up.”

“I had to lie, okay? Do you have any idea how much danger I’d be in if you let it slip who I really was?”

“So is it that you couldn’t tell anyone or you couldn’t trust me not to tell?” You asked as you walked back up to him.

“You know how you are. You tell your friends everything.” He said coldly.

“Are you seriously saying this is my fault?” You raised your eyebrows.

“I’m not saying it’s your fault.” He sighed. “I’m just saying that you’re being kind of selfish right now.“

“I’m being selfish?”

“Yes, you are. It’s selfish to expect me to prioritize you over the safety of-“

“Of who?” You cut him off. “Of literally all of New York? Of the world? Where does your domain of responsibility end? Who do you prioritize me over? Where do I rank? When do I matter to you?”

“That’s not fair.” Was all he could say because he didn’t know the answer to your questions.

“You know what else isn’t fair? Making me have to be the only bad guy here. Because the funny thing is that I would have been proud of you. I would have been honored to be the girlfriend of someone who risked their life and gave their time to protect people they didn’t even know. But you never gave me the opportunity to feel that way. You chose to lie to me. You chose this over me every single time. You never chose me. That’s why we’re breaking up. I would have understood if you needed to prioritize saving lives over dates with me but I cannot understand you lying to my face every single day for years. I spent birthdays, anniversaries, holidays, and countless nights staring at the empty seat I saved for you that you never showed up to. So no, I don’t think I’m being selfish right now. I don’t think it was selfish of me to share my boyfriend with all of New York.”

Peter was quiet again as he processed what you had said. There was no way to undo what he had done and it was clear apologizing wasn’t cutting it this time.

“I don’t know how to be without you. You’re my best friend. None of this matters without you.” Peter said in a small voice. You sighed and felt sympathetic towards him for just a moment.

“Peter, you were and always will be my first love. That’s always going to mean something to me. But now I have to look back at our relationship and never know what was real and what was a lie. If you’re not going to choose me, then I will. I’m done waiting around for you. I’m done.”

“Please, don’t give up on me. I didn’t mean to hurt you.” He croaked out.

“But you did.”

“I know. I know I did. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, baby. I’ll never stop trying to make things right.” He pleaded and tried to reach for you again.

“Don’t bother, Peter. You need to stay away from me for a while.” You told him in a calm voice.

“What? How long?” He blinked in disbelief.

“I don’t know. A long time.”

“But can we at least be friends? Like we were before?” He asked desperately.

“We can’t be friends.” You shook your head and turned to leave again.

“What? Not even friends?” His voice cracked as he called after you.

“I can’t be your friend. I can’t be in any kind of relationship with you. That’s what I’m trying to say here. I don’t trust you.”

“Ever?” He squeaked out. “We can’t ever find our back to each other?”

You didn’t answer him as you walked home alone. Peter stood on the sidewalk for a long time, unsure of what to do with himself now. He wanted to run after you and get you to see his side, but he knew that would just make things worse. You had said what you needed to say and he had to respect that as much as it pained him to see you walk away. Instead of going after you, he swung to Ned’s house and climbed through his window.

“We broke up.” The words fell out of Peter’s mouth as he pulled his mask from his tear stained face.

Peter let a month pass before he tried to speak to you again. Minus a few texts and voicemails left on particularly miserable nights, he had left you alone for the most part. But after counting down the 31 painfully long and quiet days without you, he went up to you in the hallway on campus one day.

“Hey.” He greeted you with an anxious smile. You stopped walking and looked behind you to make sure you were the one he was talking to.

“Hi.” You said with knit eyebrows of confusion.

“How are you? How have you been?”

“I’m fine.” You said flatly.

“Did you just come from class? Was it okay?”

“Um, I really don’t want to be mean here but why are you talking to me?” You asked him. Peter blinked in surprise at your response and lost all the confidence he had built up.

“Oh, um. I don’t know. We haven’t talked into a month. I was giving you space.”

“Why’d you stop?”

“Stop what?”

“Giving me space.” You replied. “I still don’t want to talk to you.”

“But it’s been a month.” He pointed out and realized how silly he sounded as it came out of his mouth.

“Okay? We ended a year long relationship and years of friendship. We can’t just go back to normal after that.”

“But…but we’re different.” He stammered. “We were different. I thought, I don’t know, maybe…”

“Maybe what? I’ll just forget about the shit you put me through?” You asked when he trailed off. He shut his mouth and went quiet and you couldn’t help but feel bad at the deer in headlights look he had in his eyes.

“Peter, I told you.” You sighed. “We can’t be friends.”

“I know we can’t go right back to how we were but we don’t have to pretend the other doesn’t even exist.” He insisted.

“No, Peter, you’re not understanding. I won’t be your friend. I won’t even fake niceties with you. I’m not trying to be mean but I don’t want you in my life in any capacity. I’m not changing my mind on this.”

“We can’t just never speak again. Our story can’t end like this.” He said quietly and you could tell he was on the verge of tearing up.

“It wasn’t supposed to. But it is. So please, just leave me alone.” You asked calmly so that he wouldn’t break down.

“I can’t. This is killing me. You and I not being together doesn’t make sense to me. Please. I’ll do anything to make this right. I still love you and-“

“Peter. Please. We’re at school.” You cut him off and uncomfortably looked around for who was listening.

“You’re telling me you don’t feel anything for me anymore? Because I don’t believe that. I know you. I know you can’t shake things that easily.”

“I didn’t think so either. But I’ve never been hurt like this.”

“Then can we please go somewhere and talk? I’ll listen this time. I swear.” Peter pleaded and stepped forward to touch your arm. You stared at him for a minute and looked sympathetic so he thought you might say yes.

“I can’t.” You said finally. “I have class. I have to go.”

“Oh, okay.” He nodded in disappointment. “Maybe some other time then. Just please know how sorry I am for hurting you.”

“You don’t need to keep apologizing, Peter.” You sighed. “I’ve moved on. I think you should too.”

“You’ve moved on? Like, with another guy?” Peter blinked a few times to stop the tears he felt threatening to spill out at this new bit of information.

“Not that it would be any of your business if I did, but no.” You amswered. “I just mean that I’d been mourning our relationship before it even ended so I accepted our breakup a long time ago. I’ve moved on now.”

“Were you really that unhappy?” Peter asked in a small voice.

“Well, yeah, Peter.” You admitted. “I loved you when you were around but it felt awful the nights you were gone. I felt completely alone a lot of the time. And even when you were with me, I was never sure you wanted to be there.”

“I always wanted to be with you.” He promised. “If you ever believe something I say again, just know how badly I wished I could have been there with you.”

You chewed your bottom lip and stared into his eyes as you tried to decide if you should believe him or not. You swore never to believe another word out of his mouth but his tired eyes seemed so genuine that you knew there must be truth to his words. But even if he was telling the truth, that didn’t matter to you anymore.

“I can’t talk about this right now. I have class.”You repeated. “Get some sleep tonight, okay? You don’t look so good.”

Another month went by and Peter was starting to feel used to not speaking to you. The thought of it beginning to feel normal to not have you in his life scared him so he called you up one night and listened to your voicemail with tears in his eyes. By month three, he pretty much just felt numb. He was falling to pieces very quickly and you were the only one who could save him. He’d seen you around on campus and sometimes get a pity wave if he stared too long. Every so often, he’d follow you home but keep his distance on rooftops. He swore you knew he was there as sometimes you’d stop and look up. He made no effort to hide but you made no effort to seek him out.

Peter was on his nightly patrol one night when his police radio started going crazy. He heard the words “bus crash” and “pile up” being reported over and over so he picked up his radio to listen for where it was. Once he had a location, he swung to the bridge and landed in the middle of the scene. Peter saw one of the large city buses on its side and twenty some cars piled up behind it. Police officers were already on the scene and helping people but Peters senses were telling him danger was still present.

“How can I help?” Peter asked an officer.

“Usually I don’t like seeing you at crime scenes but you might be able to help us. A bus is about to over the side of the bridge and our extraction guys are having a hard time getting onto the bridge with all the traffic.”

“Which bus?” Peter asked and looked around.

“It’s over there. Bus Q8.” The officer pointed out. There was a bus hanging over the side of the bridge with its nose pointed towards the water. Peter could see people inside trying to stay calm so they didn’t shake the bus.

“Q8? My girlfriend takes that bus.” Peter’s mouth went dry as his head shot back to the bus teetering over the edge of the bridge.

“Then you better hurry.” The officer called after Peter. The bus was on its side so Peter opened up the emergency hatch on the top and climbed inside. He calmed down the people on the bus one by one and assured them that he was there to get them to safety. As he spoke to the passengers, he kept an eye out for you but didn’t see you in any of the seats. You normally took the bus home at this time and Peter found it hard to believe this was the one day you didn’t.

“Was there a girl on this bus with a purple backpack? She was wearing brown converse and a jean jacket today. Did any see her?” He asked the passengers.

“Yeah. She was sitting over there.” Someone answered and pointed to the back of the bus. Peter went to your seat but only found your backpack.

“This is her backpack. Where is she?” He asked and felt his fear rise quickly. He looked around and saw that the back door of the bus was opened. He pushed the door open a little more and the bus wobbled at his movement.

“Did she leave?” Peter asked with his panic evident in his voice.

“She was helping a few people get out of the back until this little boy ran out. She told the mom she’d go find him. I haven’t seen her since.” Someone else informed him.

“Okay. Thank you. I’m gonna get you guys to safety.” Peter promised. He helped people out of the back of the bus one by one after securing the bus to the bridge with his webs. Once he was sure everyone was out safely, he began to search for you. He had an anxiety like nothing he had ever felt as he searched through the crowds for your face. As he looked around the scene, he heard a woman talking to a police officer about a girl falling over into the water. Peter felt his hair stand up and approached them.

“Excuse me? Was the girl who fell into the water wearing brown converse?” He asked and hoped the answer was no.

“I think so.” The woman replied but couldn’t be sure.

“Can you tell me what happened?” He asked.

“This girl helped me get my son after he ran off the bus. He had climbed into an empty car nearby to hide so she climbed in to get him. But the car fell into the water before she could get out herself.” The woman replied as she clutched her son to her chest.

“Did…did the car go under?” Peter asked with a dry mouth. The woman looked pained at his question and he already knew her answer.

“When I looked over the side, I saw it sink under the water. I’m so sorry. There was nothing I could do. Did you know her?” The woman asked and placed a hand on Peter’s shoulder. The police officer started asking Peter questions but he couldn’t hear anything. He felt like he was about to pass out and stumbled backwards. He took off running towards the side of the bridge and looked over into the water. The rocky river water looked especially treacherous that night, sending a sick feeling to Peter’s stomach. He wasted no time and dove into the water in search of you. He swam down and eventually found a car in the water but when he pulled the doors open, there was no sign of you. Peter quickly swam up to gasp for air before going back down to look again. He did this five times before he exhausted himself. He dragged himself onto the little patch of grass at the base of the bridge and laid on the ground. He pulled his mask off and let out a guttural sob as he covered his face with his hands. He knew he had to pull himself up and help the people on the bridge but his entire body felt like lead. He rubbed the saltwater out of his eyes and took another minute to recover. As he rolled over to get himself up, he made eye contact with you.

“Peter?” You asked in a shaky voice. You were wet from the river and holding yourself as you slowly walked toward him.

“You’re okay?” Peter asked as he got up off the ground. You were shivering from the cold and he wished desperately that he had something he could cover you with.

“Yeah. I managed to get out through the trunk of the car. I was on the other side of the platform when I heard you crying. Did you go looking for me?” You asked when you realized he was wet too. Peter was still in stunned silence at the sight of you okay after accepting that you had likely drowned.

“You’re okay.” He said and started to get all chocked up again. Peter took a step forward and opened his arms to hug you hit stopped himself. He stepped back and hugged himself instead.

“What are you doing?” You wondered.

“Giving you space.” He said seriously. It made you laugh for some reason which he didn’t understand but he didn’t question it.

“Shut up.” You said when your laughter stopped.

“I didn’t say anything.” Peter said as you threw your arms around him. He stumbled back in surprise but then hugged you back tightly. He buried his face in the crook of your neck and slipped his hands into your hair to hold you closer. It felt like muscle memory to hold you again and the chill in his bones was gone in seconds.

“That was really scary. When the car fell into the water. I couldn’t breathe.” You choked out and he held you tighter.

“I know. Shhh. I know.” He whispered in your ear as you struggled to catch your breath. You pulled away just a little so that you could look at him.

“I thought of you.” You admitted. “When I was trying to find my way back to the surface. I was so tired and my lungs felt like they were going to explode but I just kept thinking that I needed to see you again. That’s what kept me going.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t get to you sooner. I should’ve been here.”

“It’s okay. You’re here now.” You smiled sadly and touched his face. Peter returned the sad smile, the kind the made his eyes crinkle. But as he stared into your eyes, he couldn’t help but think of the things you had said the night you broke up.

“I should’ve been there for you a lot more than I ever had been.” He began. “You didn’t deserve to spend all those nights alone wondering where I was. I should’ve been a better boyfriend to you. I should have just told you the truth. I don’t even know who I was protecting in the end. I told myself it was you but that’s not true because you still got hurt and I was the one who hurt you. And I’m so sorry for that. I’m so fucking sorry. I’m sorry for all of it.”

“Peter, you don’t have to do this right now.” You assured him.

“I do. Because I don’t know when you’re gonna talk to me again and I have so much I have to tell you. So I need you to know that I’m sorry for all the times you got dressed up for me and just never showed. I’m sorry I let you think the distance between us was all in your head even though I felt it too. I’m sorry for all the calls and texts after we broke up because I could never stay away from you. And for following you home everyday because you looking up when you thought to was around was the closest to an encounter that we had most days. And I’m sorry that I clearly didn’t love you hard enough if you were able to move on so quickly. I guess the absence of my love wasn’t much worse than the presence of it. Or maybe the presence of it already felt like an absence. I know I was barely there in the end. I know you deserve better. And I hope you get better. You were always the best part of me and now I’m just the loser who got really lucky that a cool girl liked him and found a way to fuck it all up.”

“You didn’t fuck it all up.” You smiled sadly. “We had a lot of good times too. We were happy.”

“Not enough for you to stay. Which I don’t blame you for. I wish it didn’t take losing you to realize how much I needed to change but it did. So I don’t blame you for being fine without me. You’ll always be fine. You’re better off now without me in your life and I’m just falling to pieces. I guess when a heart breaks, it doesn’t break even.”

You started at him for a moment as your eyebrows came together. You let out a short laugh and expected him to do the same but he just looked confused.

“That’s that song.” You said finally.

“What?”Peter frowned. “What song? I’m pouring my heart out here.”

“I’m falling to pieces, yeah. I’m falling to piece, yeah. Cause when a heartbreak no it don’t break even.” You sang quietly and Peters eyes went up in surprise.

“Oh shit. It is that song.” Peter realized. “Damn it. I thought I made that up. I’ve been listening to The Script a lot lately. Especially the one that’s like “cause if one day you wake up and find that you’re missing me and your heart starts to wonder where on this earth I could be.” I’ve been blasting that one so much that May had to take my speakers away. So then I started scream-singing it and she threatened to kick me out.”

“It’s so like you to accidentally quote a popular song and think you made it up yourself.” You laughed softly. “You said I so confidently that I genuinely believe for a second that those were your own words. But no. It was just the musical stylings of the popular early 2000s band The Script.”

“The Script are the only people that understand me right now.” Peter mumbled, making you laugh again.

“You laugh but they make the best music for yearning.” Peter continued just to make you laugh again. He smiled at the sight of you laughing at something he had said after so many months of silence between you. When your laughter died down, you looked at him for a moment the way that you used to.

“I don’t want you to yearn anymore.” You told him and gave his hand a squeeze. Peter understood what you were getting at and nodded his head.

“Do you think we could try again?” He asked in a soft voice. You smiled a little and took a step closer to him to rest your hands on his chest.

“I think so.” You answered.

“I swear, everything will be different this time.” He insisted. “I won’t leave you lonely anymore. And we can take it at any pace you need. Just tell me what I can do to earn back your trust.”

“I don’t know. I think maybe I can trust a guy who dives into the Hudson River for me.” You said with a coy smile as you nodded towards the water.

“I really hate to do this right now but that’s actually the East River of-“

“I don’t care.” You laughed and pulled him into a kiss to shut him up.

Tag List 🏷️

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[2knightt]

「 you are—unforgettable.」

IN WHICH—you’re them and they’re you!♡ ໋֢ 👒✧

🍵ヾFT. THE GREASERS࿐ྀུ ♡

⌗ 👒 notes !𖥔༌ ᰷ ﹅ people in this fic refer to two-bit as ‘keith.’ who cuz who the FUCK says ‘he got his two-bits in🤓’ NOBODY! but in the descriptive parts he will be two-bit. ALSO IF U DON’T UNDERSTAND WHAT I’M SAYING LOOK IN THE TAGS!

Ponyboy Curtis ;

his class was gonna watch this movie before reading a book. ‘the outsiders,’ or somethin’.

it was made in the ‘80’s—he didn’t want to even watch it. watching movies in class was the worst!

ponyboy sat at his desk, head in his arms. he heard the music and looked up, chin resting on his arms.

when ponyboy seen you writing down and narrating, he could’ve sworn he died and came back to life. LIKE WHEN HE HEARD YOUR VOICEEE HE GOT A LITTLE BLUSH ON HIS CHEEKS.

his friends beside him noticed, snickering to themselves. they shoved him, asking if that was his future partner. he just pushed them off, quietly telling them to fuck off.

when ponyboy seen you covered in the soot??? phew—he questioned his morals, man. and THEN HE SEEN YOU BEAT UP?? he was getting FED.

ponyboy came out of that school a new man.

his ears were hot, his cheeks were red, and he was already looking up edits of you. ponyboy shoved those almost broken wired apple headphones in his ears and tuned everyone out.

when he got home he ignored any questions darry and soda threw at him and immediately went to his room. ponyboy quietly closed the door before hopping into bed, pulling out his phone, and going on tiktok.

spent like a solid 30 minutes tweaking over edits of you. like full on screaming into his pillow—i’m so serious.

“darry, what the hell is that noise?”

“i dunn—ponyboy?”

“AHHH!!”

when he found out that, outside of the outsiders, you’re decades older than him he was SO HEARTBROKEN.

the gang seen him looking at photos of you and immediately started teasing him. he absolutely tried to back himself up with stutters.

“they’re how much years older than you, bro?”

“NONO HEAR ME OUT, PLEASE! KEITH, BRO, PLEASE.”

reads fanfic. look at me in the eyes and try to tell me that ponyboy motherfucking curtis doesn’t read fanfiction.

you can’t.

like bro he’s so desperate for more content of you to the point where he writes the fics he yearns for—got pretty popular to.

“why the fuck is your phone blowing up?”

“PLEASE don’t ask me any questions about it.”

he’s a freak. he knows everything about you. ponyboy’s even began to watch your interview’s about the movie. and your other movies.

literally a teenage girl.

“THEY’RE SO FINE THOUGH, PLEASE!”

“nuh-uh.”

“FUCK YOU MEAN ‘NUH-UH’?”

Johnny Cade ;

seen you when he was watching random movies at the curtis house. at first he was like, ‘wait!! they’re so me coded😛.’ it never occurred to him that you could be so cute.

he seen you crying and something in him like actually snapped.

“wait….am i getting a crush? they’re kinda…”

when he seen the equivalent of ponyboy in this universe snuggled up to you in the church he was soooo jealous.

yk that one audio where it’s like, “how long is he gon’ be talking to my WIFE.” that’s literally johnny cade when he seen that person kiss the top of your head.

“what the fuck?”

“…what do you mean?”

“nothin’. it’s just kinda bullshit that they swoop in and steal my chance😒.”

“you never had one.”

“okay, pal😐.”

heart broke when he seen you in the hospital bed btw. like was full on gripping onto a pillow with tears in his eyes.

johnny was in such denial when he seen you die😭. ‘bro, no. they literally aren’t dead.’/‘guys!! it’s just a prank!!’

when he got to the scene he was in SHAMBLES. HE WAS INCONSOLABLE. ripping his hair out, screaming, crying, allat.

“stay gold…”

“NOOOOOOO-“

was so pissed when you didn’t come back. was even more pissed when your letter was read out loud.

“HOW COULD THEY KILL THEM OFF?? THEY DIDN’T DESERVE IT!”

“johnny, it’s a movie.”

“this is so unfair. i hate movies.”

gets nervous looking at photos of you. like to the point where he tries to look up your name on pinterest before bailing mid sentence and giggling. like full on throwing his phone across the room, kicking his feet.

will talk for hours about you. thinks your the coolest character ever!! defends you like his life depends on it.

“they killed someone?”

“so?? you’re acting like you wouldn’t do it to🤣🤣 fake ahh friend.”

—

“they legit can’t stand up for themselves. you want someone like that to be out walking them streets?”

“oh, god for bid a person has trauma. and YES I DO🗣️. i hope they walk right into my arms, HO.”

all said online btw. he would never ruin his ego by speaking like this. i am a strong believer johnny cade puts up a strong front online.

johnny literally thinks you’re the cutest person he’s ever seen. like his cheeks get so hot when he thinks about you and he gets a silly little smile on his face.

he looks at photos of you and his friends think he has a little girlfriend.

“who you textin’, johnnycakes?”

“nobody-uh!”

“c’mon—we see that smile!”

and it’s literally just you with blood dripping down your face.

Dallas Winston ;

caught a glimpse of you at some girls house he slept at. literally stopped dead in his tracks as he seen you light a cigarette before mumbling, ‘nothin’ legal, man.’

“i-uh, what movie’s this?”

“huh? oh, the outsiders. pretty good movie.”

he thanked her and threw on his jacket before speed walking to bucks place. he had to watch this movie or he’s actually lose it.

imagine buck’s bar is actually a house, kay? dallas sits his pretty little ass on that couch, flips to whatever streaming service, and turns on ‘the outsiders.’

thought it was all boring until he seen you walk into frame—mocking the main character. at that very moment he was all, ‘wait that’s kinda hot.’

seeing you help the two younger ones run away while still acting tough was so attractive to him. dallas felt like he was losing his mind.

seeing you run in after the two into the church kinda made his knees weak.

“BAE NO!”

“what the hell are you screamin’ ‘bout?”

“nothin’, buck…”

he was so scared that you’d die in the fire. (little did old dallas know am i right fellas!!!!) like i swear to god he was so scared you’d end up like the johnny in this universe.

WHEN HE SEEN YOU FIGHTINGGG. he went feral. dallas was like so flustered. he was trying so hard to hide his blush to the ghosts around him with his hair.

his flush was short lived however. seeing you cry and then literally point a gun at a cashier was lowkey whiplash for him.

“what the fuck is happening?”

dallas figured out what was gonna happen early on and started kinda tearing up. like one tear formed in his eye before he blinked it away. but he was still devastated.

WHEN DALLY HEARD SOMEONE SCREAM “they’re just a kid!” he lost it. like actually. he went limp on the couch and spaced out. like damn…his fiancé, who doesn’t know they’re his fiancé yet, really WAS just a kid.

nobody knows he likes the outsiders OR that he has a crush on you. and they CAN’T know, it’s way too embarrassing. like actually.

when he’s with the gang and he’s just casually scrolling on tiktok and he sees the tags with your name, he immediately favourites it and scrolls. he saved it for later when he’s alone.

also defends you like there’s no tomorrow.

“they were hitting on someone who had a partner??”

“okay?? fucking live a little jesus.”

—

“THEY’RE A FUCKING CRIMINAL?”

“i’m into it tho lmfao”

swears up and down that if you and him were in a room together—you’d have a crush on him. top tier delusion.

like if he gets drunk with keith, he will rant about it.

“no—hear me out. put me in a room with y/n l/n and i swear to god they’re gonna be madly in love with me.”

“no they won’t, dallas.”

“yuh-huh.”

looks at photos of you and probably has you as his pfp on his spam. includes you in every other photo dump.

Sodapop Curtis ;

seen an edit of you on tiktok and audibly gasped. full on went, “WHO IS THATT😜” went to the tags and just scrolled under it for a good long while.

he seen a angst edit of you and made up his mind that he had to watch the movie.

for the while that you weren’t on screen, he was trying to push through. he really was. but deep down—in his head he was screaming, “BORING! SHOW ME THE PRETTY ONE!!”

when sodapop seen you tending to your younger sibling he could’ve sworn he was on cloud 9.

“my turn when :/.”

WHEN SODA SEEN YOU GET OUT OF THE SHOWERRR😭😭. he lost his BREATH like was full on gripping his imaginary pearls.

had to take a breather to walk around the house before unpausing the movie. had a blush across his cheeks, i can’t even lie.

when he learned that you were described as, “movie star attractive,” all he did was nod. like,

“mhm. i always knew my fiancé was good looking.”

SODA WAS APPALLED WHEN HE FOUND OUT THAT YOUR PARTNER CHEATED ON YOU. like jaw was on the FLOOR.

“I COULD TREAT THEM BETTER🗣️🗣️ THEY KNOW WHERE HOME IS!!”

he is so open about his little crush in you—it’s so cute :(

“steve, look at ‘em.”

“i see them—get your fuckin’ phone outta my face.”

“aren’t they so perfect??🤭🤭”

“i guess.”

“well, BACK OFF. we’re already happily married.”

“in your dreams maybe.”

“oh my god.”

soda has you as his pfp on at least two platforms. his name on one platform is “y/n’s boyfriend (REAL!)”

seeing you run out on your siblings after they grouped you into your argument made him just wanna hug you so bad. like he just wanted to tell you it was all gonna be okay.

has a album in his photos where it’s edits of you and photos. giggles and twirls his hair as he looks at it.

Darry Curtis ;

his parents used to watch the movie all the time and you’ve always just been a life long crush of his.

like when younger darry seen you walk into frame, comforting your kid sibling, something in his head snapped.

suddenly everything was in slow motion, there were hearts everywhere, he had rose coloured glasses on, and for some reason—harps play in the background.

as darry grew up it literally never went away. whenever the outsiders comes on when he’s home he always still goes, “woah.😍😍”

like he thinks you’re so fine.

he doesn’t like watch edits, read fanfic—none of that🗣️. but if he gets asked who is celebrity crush is—your name is coming out of his mouth ASAP.

“so, darry, who’s your celebrity cru-“

“y/n l/n.”

“but they’re a character?”

“Y/N L/N.”

he has like ONE printed out photo of you in his room from years ago. he knows exactly where it is and where to hide it, but he still keeps it.

at least once every two months, when everyone’s asleep and he has no work the next day, he’ll stay up just to watch the movie.

he’ll have a budlight in his hand as he watches you absolutely DEMOLISH at the rumble.

“i always knew they’d win.”

“you’ve watch this movie a thousand times.”

“PONYBOY?!”

the gang eventually found out his little crush on you. only light teasing ‘cause they’re so scared they’ll get that darry smoke if they push him further😭😭.

“oh my god! look, darry! you’re little crush is on screen!”

“steve, i will beat some sense into you if you don’t shut up.”

“…okay, bud.”

—

“when’s the weddin’?”

“after your funeral, keith.”

“wow. hater.”

Steve Randle ;

his dad fell asleep on the couch one night with this old movie playing in the background.

steve was about to turn it off before he caught a glimpse of you offering this half naked person some cake. he was all, ‘WAITTTT🙈🙈!!’

like he seen you in that sleeveless jacket and immediately fell in love. literally was on a mission to figure out who you were.

when he did? all he wanted to do was watch the outsiders. WHEN HE SEEN YOU SCOLDING THE MAIN CHARACTER HE SOO KNEW YOU WERE HIS TYPE

“wish they’d scold me like that…damn…😞✊”

was TWEAKING SOO HARD WHEN HE SEEN YOU ALL BLOODY WITH YOUR HEAD THROWN BACK.

“…you think i look tuff?”

“YES BAE!!!”

making his name on like insta or something, “y/n’s HUSBAND.” he puts emphasis on the husband because he believes that you want him so bad.

like actually. he’s fucking delusional.

“guys…they like cake…and I LIKE CAKE! do you see my vision??”

“no??”

“man, fuck you.”

photo dumps on insta of pictures of you with the caption, “from our honeymoon 😍😍😛😛!” his friends are ripping him apart in comments btw.

WOULD GO FOR WAR FOR YOU.

“they’re actually so gross what.”

“YOU’RE GROSS!🗣️ KEEP THEM OUT OF YOUR MOUTH YOU FOOL!!”

—

“they have 0 depth.”

“0 depth to YOU. to ME they’re the love of my life.”

Two-bit Matthews ;

seen the outsiders when he was drunk. he didn’t remember anything that night but the cute lil’ actor who was laughing after flirting with some rich lookin’ kid.

the only thing he remembers saying that night was,

“damn—when is it MY TURN😩😞”

WENT ON A FUCKING HUNT TO FIND THIS MOVIE ISTG. he was looking up shit that didn’t even matter to the plot—so he got different movies each time.

‘cute actor flirting’

‘cute actor in old ass movie’

‘mickey mouse shirt’

‘when was mickey mouse created’

‘who is walt disney’

he got a little distracted but that’s not the point. two-bit found the movie and cried tears of joy. fell to his knees and all😭.

he immediately turned the outsiders on and waited to see you. HE WAS SOO SAD TO FIND OUT YOU HAD LIKE SUCH LITTLE SCREENTIME.

but he worked with it. he was taking SO MUCH PHOTOS OF HIS TV WHEN YOU WERE ON SCREEN LMFAO. they were all so shaky too😭😭.

doesn’t shut the fuck up about you.

“they want me so bad🤣🤣😂😂.”

“they wouldn’t touch you with a ten foot pole, keith.”

“what if i killed myse-”

—

“they’re so find i won’t ‘em.”

“what the fuck are you saying?”

“what are YOU SAYING? back up.”

saves edits of you. he is ABSOLUTELY THE TYPE OF PERSON TO SAY THE MOST OUT OF POCKET SHIT ABOUT YOU IN THE COMMENTS LMFAOOO

‘they could beat the shit out of me and i thank them :3’

‘WHAT?’

‘omg who said that’

you are his profile picture everywhere. and anywhere.

genuinely believe you’re the love of his life. i swear to god he does. KING OF DELUSION ABOVE ALL ELSE!

[brookghaib-blog]

Whispers of the past pt.13

Pairing: Hoshina Sohiro x reader

Summary: 10 years ago, Y/N went missing after being attacked by a kaiju, now working by Gen Narumi's side as his secret weapon, she hides herself in hopes that one day she reconnects with her first love, Hoshino Soshiro.

pt.12

Y/N's pov:

The cool night air rustled my hair as I stood on the rooftop, the city sprawling beneath me like a glittering sea. I held my phone to my ear, waiting for Narumi to pick up. The mission had been weighing heavily on my mind, and I needed to share the details with him.

"Hey," Narumi's familiar voice crackled through the speaker. "How's it going?"

I took a deep breath. "Narumi, I've been following up on the mission you assigned me. Trying to find another human-kaiju is proving to be more difficult than we thought."

There was a pause on the other end. "What have you found so far?"

"Not much," I admitted, frustration seeping into my voice. "Whoever this kaiju is, they’re very good at staying hidden. I can’t detect them when they're in human form, just like I can’t be detected. But I’ve been keeping an eye on the new recruits."

"Anyone stand out?" Narumi asked, his tone serious.

"Yeah, actually," I replied, leaning against the railing. "There's this guy, Kafka Hibino. He’s an odd choice for the Defense Force. He's incredibly slow and seems to have no power at all. I can’t figure out why he was recruited."

Narumi sighed. "Keep an eye on him. Sometimes the least obvious suspects can be the most dangerous."

"Will do," I said, jotting down a mental note to watch Kafka more closely. "I'll keep you updated on any developments."

Narumi's voice softened slightly. "How was it facing Soshiro?"

I hesitated, the memory of our confrontation still raw. "It was...normal. He tried to talk to me, but I kept him at arm’s length. I plan to keep it that way."

"I’m sorry you have to go through this," Narumi said. "If you need to get out of the Third Division or if things get too hard, just let me know. I'll make sure you’re reassigned."

I felt a surge of gratitude. "Thank you, Narumi. I appreciate it. But I want to see this through. I need to prove to myself that I can do this."

"I know you can," Narumi said confidently. "Just remember, you’re not alone in this. We’re all here to support you."

I smiled, feeling a bit lighter. "Thanks. That means a lot."

"Narumi," I said, my voice hesitant, "do you have any updates on Mr. Orochi's murder?"

There was a pause on the other end before he replied. "Nothing concrete yet. No cameras caught anything, and no weapon has been identified. It's like he just vanished and then reappeared dead."

I clenched my fists, frustration bubbling inside me. "How can that be? There must be something."

"I know," Narumi sighed. "We've interviewed some of the workers from the bar, but nobody knows anything beyond his odd behavior toward the end. It’s like he wasn’t the same person."

"His odd behavior," I echoed, thinking back to our last conversation. "He was acting strange that day. Almost like…like he wasn’t human."

Narumi's voice softened. "I promise you, Y/N, we’ll find out who did this. But it’s a complex case. We have so little to go on."

I took a deep breath, trying to steady my emotions. "I know you’re doing everything you can. It’s just hard to accept."

"I understand," he said gently. "Mr. Orochi was important to you. But we have to be patient. These things take time."

"Yeah," I murmured, feeling the weight of the world on my shoulders. "I just…I want justice for him."

"And we’ll get it," Narumi assured me. "In the meantime, focus on your mission. Keep me updated on Kafka and any other leads you find."

"Will do," I said, my voice firmer. "Thanks, Narumi."

We ended the call, and I slipped my phone into my pocket, the unresolved questions about Mr. Orochi’s death swirling in my mind. As I looked out over the city, I made a silent vow to uncover the truth, no matter how long it took.

The following morning, I threw myself into my work with renewed determination. Training with the Third Division was rigorous, but it kept my mind occupied. I kept a close watch on Kafka, my suspicion growing with each passing day. His behavior, though seemingly harmless, was too ordinary—too calculated.

After an intense training session, I retreated to the rooftop once again. The solitude offered a chance to clear my mind. I dialed Narumi’s number, needing to hear his voice.

"Hey," he answered, sounding a bit more upbeat. "How’s it going?"

"Slow progress," I admitted. "But I’m not giving up. Kafka’s still the most strange out there, although, there are some pretty interesting suspects, they are very strong for beginners, but nothing that indicates that the strenght comes from a kaiju.."

"Keep at it, you're doing great" Narumi encouraged.

"Thanks," I said, appreciating his support more than he knew. "Narumi, do you think there could be others like me out there? Humans who’ve been turned into kaiju?"

There was a thoughtful pause before he replied. "It's possible. If it happened to you, it could happen to others. We need to be vigilant."

I nodded, feeling a sense of purpose. "I’ll keep that in mind."

--

Sitting in my assigned room, I stared blankly at the wall, the weight of Soshiro’s words pressing heavily on my mind. His suggestion that Narumi and I had something between us was absurd, yet it gnawed at my thoughts. How could he have seen us kissing? I had no recollection of such a thing ever happening. The confusion was overwhelming.

I grabbed my phone and dialed Narumi’s number, my heart pounding in my chest. It was late, but I needed answers.

"Hey, Y/N," Narumi answered, his voice surprisingly alert for the hour. "Everything okay?"

"Narumi, I’m sorry for calling so late, but I need to talk to you about something," I said, my voice trembling slightly.

"Sure, what’s up?" he asked, concern evident in his tone.

"I had a conversation with Soshiro when I went to ask him questions about the Kaiju" I began, taking a deep breath. "He got a little of track and he suggested that you and I have some sort of relationship. He even said he saw us kissing at the bar where I worked."

Narumi was silent for a moment, clearly processing what I had just told him. "I never spoke to Soshiro about any relationship," he finally said, confusion lacing his words. "Why would he think that?"

"I don’t know," I admitted, feeling a sense of frustration. "But he was so convinced. He said he saw us kissing. Do you remember saying anything that may habe been misunderstood?"

Narumi hesitated, a sigh escaping his lips. "There was one night," he began slowly, "after one of your performances. You got blackout drunk and…you kissed me."

I felt my heart stop. "What?" I whispered, mortified. "I…Narumi, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to. I basically assaulted you."

"Hey, it’s okay," he said, his voice gentle but firm. "You were drunk, and it wasn’t like that. You didn’t know what you were doing."

My face burned with embarrassment, and I could feel my eyes welling up with tears. "I’m so sorry," I repeated, feeling utterly humiliated.

Out of nowhere, Narumi’s tone shifted. "You know Y/N, you can do whatever you want with me," he said, a teasing lilt in his voice. "I’ll let you."

I blinked, completely taken aback. "What?" I stammered, my cheeks burning.

"With Soshiro out of the picture," Narumi continued, his voice dripping with a mix of seduction and playfulness, "I can show you what a real man feels like. Can you do me a favor?"

"Um, sure," I said, still trying to process the sudden change in his demeanor. "What do you need?"

"Say my name," he requested, his voice dropping to a deeper, almost husky tone.

"Narumi?" I replied, unsure of where this was going.

"No, Y/N," he corrected gently. "Come on, say my name."

Realization dawned on me, and my heart raced faster. "Gen?" I whispered, my voice barely audible.

On the other end of the line, I heard Narumi almost moan. "Yes," he breathed, his voice sounding deeper and more intimate. "You make me so happy."

I felt a rush of heat flood my face, completely speechless. Before I could respond, Narumi added, "You have no idea what you do to me."

"Are you okay?" I asked, my voice filled with concern. "You sound…weird."

"I’m more than okay," Narumi assured me. "You just made my night. I’ll talk to you tomorrow, Y/N."

With that, he hung up, leaving me staring at my phone in disbelief. My mind was a whirlwind of emotions—confusion, embarrassment, and something else I couldn’t quite identify.

I sat there for a long time, replaying the conversation in my head. What just happened?

[henneseyhoe]

Erik takes readers virginity

Killmonger X BLACK!FEM!reader

WARNINGS: SMUT, heavy daddy kink, oral, unprotected sex, mentions of virginity, Bestfriend!Erik, slapping.

SUMMARY: reader gets tired of being a virgin and asks her bestfriend; Erik to be the one to do it.

Ps. Don’t let !!anyone!! pressure you into giving away your virginity. It should be YOUR choice on when and how you wanna do it and who you wanna do it with. don’t let anyone shame you for being a virgin no matter your age, there is NOTHING wrong with being a virgin or saving yourself or whatever the case may be. This is fiction and strictly for fantasy, it does not depict how losing your virginity actually is, simply because it’s different for everyone…and also because this is fiction lmao. Okay, enjoy<3

——

“And you sure you wanna do this? Cause once I get goin’, ain’t no turning back” Erik asked . He had a slight smirk on his face as his tall frame towered over me, making me look up at him and nod. “Yes. I just wanna get it over with” I responded timidly, fiddling with my hands behind my back.

Me and Erik had always been friends since the third grade. He was sort of a bully, but he also protected me all throughout our school years, so I always stood by him. It wasn’t a secret that I had a small crush on him either, and he always made it known that he knew by poking fun at me getting shy any time he’d compliment me, or when he’d hug me as a greeting and sneakily snake his hands down to my lower back just to make me tense up and push him away.

Because of my shyness, this is also what landed me being a virgin at age 20. Since me and Erik were best friends, I told him everything, so he knew that I was still a virgin and made fun of that anytime we’d talk about anything sexual, no matter if it was a joke I giggled at or just a simple conversation in general. Saying things like “why you talkin’? You don’t know nothing ‘bout this” or “virgin Mary over here laughing but I doubt she get the joke”.

It wasn’t like I lacked simple sexual education or anything, I just never did anything. I tried porn, but it got boring fast. I tried masterbation, but I could barely rub my own clit for more than 8 minutes without feeling an odd sensation that made me stop. I understood that it was most likely an orgasm, but the feeling felt like l was ascending to god himself, my entire body becoming too sensitive to ever finish.

When I told Erik about that, he bursted into laughter, almost shedding tears as I explained to him how I didn’t understand how to finger myself correctly either. I probably shouldn’t have told him anything, but in my defense he asked if I ever “stuck a finger up there”, so I just came clean, which was a mistake. And let’s not forget the on going joke he made up with our entire friend group with how he would be the one to take my virginity.

Everyone laughed, including me at one point, thinking it was a joke. Difference was, when he laughed, he was dead serious. Secretly he’d been plotting since senior year when back to school started and I suddenly came back with a little weight that went straight to my ass and thighs, switched my bifocals out for contacts and learned how to lay my edges correctly.

Not only that, but even with all the changes in my appearance, I never switched up. I never decided to fuck with some popular niggas cause they was all barkin’ at me, I never went off an pretended like I didn’t know nobody after the slight boost I got in socials after my ass got fatter, and that just made it better for Erik.

It eliminated all of the niggas that could have potentially broken me off and made me a freak before Erik could get his hands on me, but he knew it’d take some time for me to get on his level.

“So…is this the part where I get naked?” I asked awkwardly, rocking on the heels of my feet. Erik chuckled and shook his head “look, I’m not just gon’ fuck you like that and you don’t get nothin’ out of it. I wanna teach you a lil sumn while we at it” he admitted, crossing his arms, making his muscles press against his fitted black shirt.

“Are you-..are you flexing?” I raised an eyebrow as my eyes trailed to his biceps, the man taking his finger and lifting my chin so I was looking back up at him. “You off topic. Get on your knees”

A shiver ran up and down my spine as he spoke and touched me, a second heartbeat appearing between my legs.

-

If you told yesterday me that I would be on my knees in front of my bestfriend of ten years, with his dick down my throat and his hands on the back of my head to hold me down till my I was begging for air, I would have laughed in your face and walked away. Maybe even would have called you delusional.

“Move your hands and use your mouth” Erik grunted while thrusting his hips into my mouth shallowly, my hands being wrapped around the rest of his shaft, prohibiting him from going any further.

“What did I just say? Move your damn hands”

His gruff voice boomed to show he was serious, making me clench my thighs together tightly. He spoke with a new tone, a tone that had authority and control. An authority and control that I’ve never heard in this instance before. It turned me on.

He tugged at my box braids, making me wince and hesitantly remove my hands, slowly placing them in my lap.

“Good girl. Now open that pretty mouth up for daddy. Just a little wider”

I moaned at his self given nickname and tried to follow his instructions, opening my mouth wider while he slid deeper down my throat. I gagged strongly as he touched the back of my throat, my shoulders shrugging and drool dripping from my mouth whilst he retracted himself a little before easing back in, repeating those motions.

“Breathe through your nose and relax that throat, baby”

he removed one of his hands from my hair and placed it under my chin, helping me gain control of my gag reflexes that decided to be completely against me at the time. I let out a sigh through my nose, finally figuring out how to regulate my breathing as he touched the back of my throat once again, this time pulling back out quicker than what he did before.

“Oh shit”

he gasped quietly, lifting up his shirt and leaning back against the wall behind him as I allowed him to throat fuck me, my spit now dripping into the valley of my titties that were semi covered by a cropped spaghetti strap shirt.

“Just like that, ma. Get this dick wet”

He grunted. I opened my mouth wide enough so my teeth wouldn’t scrape against him again, the man laying a small, painless smack on my cheek any time he’d feel them rubbing against him.

“fuuuck, you finna make me nut all in that throat, baby” He moaned and gripped my hair tighter, his thrusts getting rougher by the second.

I hummed a ‘no’ with violent chokes slipping out of my mouth as he made me go down all the way, my mind racing steadily as I imagined what it’d be like to have him do anything of the sort.

“I didn’t give you a choice” he choked out while his stomach tightened, his abs suddenly becoming more detailed and prominent.

Tears trailed down my cheeks, my brown foundation being mixed in with the salty liquid. He continued his assault on my poor throat, only to stop abruptly and force my head down until my nose touched his stomach. Suddenly I felt a warm sensation trail down my throat, a taste of bitter sweetness lingering on my tongue as he pulled out with strings of my spit mixed with his cum dripping from the tip of his dick.

He used his hand and tilted my head up, forcing me to look up at him again. “Swallow”

he demanded, my head shaking rapidly as I held the remanding bit of him under my tongue.

“This is your first time, so don’t make me say it again and make this night more eventful than it already is, Y/N. I hate going back on my word, but I hate being disrespected more than that”

he threatened, my eyes widening with wonder as to why he said that and what he’d do if I had spit.

Taking no chances, I decided to save my curiosity for another day, building up the courage to finally swallow, licking my lips after. He tilted his head at me and squeezed at my jaw, opening my mouth. Humming in satisfaction, he slid his thumb into my mouth, my lips immediately closing around it and beginning to suck while looking at the man, my watering eyes gleaming in the apartments bright lights as if glitter was placed under my lids beforehand.

“Damn..”

he murmured and slowly pulled his thumb out, replacing it with his tongue as he bent down and laid a soft kiss on my lips. I melted into his touch, my pussy beginning to throb once again with him simply just wrapping his hands around my throat and arm, pulling me up from the floor.

My legs felt weird from being on my knees for so long, my throat feeling weirder from the constant pressure it just endured. He then picked me up bridal style and began walking us down the hall and into my room.

softly laying me onto my bed, he started to pull all of my clothes off one by one, leaving me naked.

I subconsciously covered myself up, and stared at him, most of my focus being on how he was gonna fit inside. He noticed my staring and chuckled while taking his clothes off. “You’ll be fine. I’ll make it fit” he spoke as if he read my mind. “I don’t think it will…” I began closing my legs, the man only gripping my thighs and prying them back open.

“I promise if it hurts I’ll stop”

“Promise?”

“Promise” he reiterated and bent down, kissing up my thighs. Shivers went up my spine as he got closer and closer to my pussy, his breath and mustache tickling my skin. He took his middle and ring finger and spread my lips apart, my juices already starting to leak out from the prolonged playing.

“Look…She already so damn wet for me”

He looked up at me and licked a long stripe up from my entrance to my clit, a moan leaving my lips.

“She sweet as hell too” he smirked before going in, his tongue making love to my pussy as he swirled and flicked it over my clit with a quickness, his middle finger now spreading my juices around my entrance before he slowly eased and slipped it inside of me, making me let out a louder moan.

He began humming and shaking his head from side to side as he closed his lips around my clit, adding suction while attempting to slip a second finger inside of me. I winced and bucked my hips up, my walls clenching and unclenching around his fingers involuntarily.

“I can’t!”

His eyes traveled up my torso until they met mine, a blank look on his face as he disconnected his lips from my clit.

“How do you expect me to fuck you good if this pussy can’t even take two fingers? Don’t tell me you backing out now”

He taunted and licked his fingers clean, a grin growing on his face.

“I’m not! I just…I wasn’t ready right then”

I lied, being scared of him literally ripping me in half in reality.

“You sure?”

He asked teasingly and kneeled onto the bed, gripping his shaft with one hand and rubbing his tip up against my entrance, the tight muscles clenching just from the light touch. I nodded, looking down to watch his actions. He began rubbing his dick through my folds, my juices making every inch and vein he had shine underneath the mood lights in the room.

“You see that shit? That pussy just beggin’ for me, baby” he let out a grunt as he attempted to push into me again, my hand immediately flying to his stomach to stop him. “Wait!…promise it won’t hurt?” His head tilted, his face reading a ‘seriously?’ Look.

“I can’t promise you that. But I promise if you want me to stop, I will”

I stared at him for a while, thinking about my decision. I couldn’t really come up with a reason not to continue other than fear, but I knew he wouldn’t intentionally hurt me.

I slowly moved my hands and Erik took that as a sign to continue, attempting for the third time to push into me, only this time the tip of his dick successfully makes it in, a sigh erupting from my throat.

He watched my face contort as he continued to slide inside of me until our hips were touching.

“Fuck…” I mumbled, taking a deep breath. a moan seemingly interrupted everything else I did after that point, every move of my hips making my clit jump and throb, the pain that was once there before now withering away. He soon began to rock his hips into me, his hands slithering up my body and holding my bouncing titties in place. The stretching felt unbearable for a few minutes, my juices seemingly making it both better and worse.

Better by making the thrusts go smoother, but worse because he was getting deeper by the second, so deep that it felt like a bulge had appeared in my stomach, stopping right under my belly button when he thrusted in completely. I know that it was impossible for him to literally be in my stomach but that’s how it felt. And it started to feel good. Really good.

My mouth was stuck open, letting out pathetic whimpers.

“I’m hittin’ that spot, huh?” Erik spoke suddenly, caressing my jaw softly while looking deep into my eyes. I nodded slowly, my hands reaching up to grip the plush headboard above us.

“Unt, Unt. Talk to me, baby. Tell me how that big dick feel”

he groaned, giving me long strokes that had me feeling delusional.

“Yesss, it feels good, daddy—oh my god!”

My words slurred as he suddenly switched his pace, the clapping noise becoming more obvious. He leaned in on my body and wrapped his hand around my throat, adding light pressure while giving me life rendering strokes, my body shaking under him just that quickly.

“I feel it, princess. That pussy squeezing daddy so tight. Tight ass pussy”

he laid a harsh smack on my thigh and I yelped, my hands flying to his arms and my French tips scratching down his brown skin. I don’t know how he knew, but it felt like I was about to explode, my legs clamping around his hips before he let go of me and spread them back open, using them for leverage to thrust into me deeper, if that was even possible with how he was doing me now.

“FUCK!”

I shouted, my back arching and falling against the bed. He watched as my pussy creamed around him, leaving a white coat of it around his dick, just how he liked it.

“There you go, baby. Get that nut”

He smiled and began rubbing my clit. It felt like electricity was running up and down my body, my eyes rolling far back into my head as I moaned louder.

“Nah, look at me, I don’t want you thinkin’ of anything else but this good dick”

He used his other hand and put it behind my neck, pulling me up a little so that I was slightly folded, forcing me to keep my eyes on him.

looking at him felt different than looking away, as if the feeling intensified. It was like he was stealing my soul with just the glare of his eyes on me.

I felt weak and powerless, my last orgasm taking all of my energy. I couldn’t lie and say I didn’t like it either.

Knocking me out of my thoughts, I felt Erik’s hips snap into me, this time it was harder, one stroke taking all of the air out of my lungs as I gasped, holding my breath in my throat.

“Right there—“

I managed to choke out, my eyes trailing down to where we connected, watching him work his magic.

“What was that?” He asked cockily, thrusting into me all the way and swirling his hips. My eyes shut tightly, taking all of him in.

“R- right-..FUCK!”

I tried to speak, but only curses seemed to do me any good. My pussy was filled to the brim with him, my walls gripping him tightly. He rolled his hips with such skill, the shaft of his dick rubbing up against my gspot with the tip of him reaching the back of my pussy.

Him having a slight curve upwards only added to the pleasure, the curve helping him reach places that only he now knew existed.

He smiled at my response, thinking that he would ‘deal’ with my incomplete sentences later.

“I want you to tell daddy how good this big dick is. Explain to me how this dick make you feel again, princess”

He cooed, his tone becoming sweet which completely contradicted his strokes, his hips speeding back up.

I could barely talk, drool pooling into the sides of my mouth with tears leaving my eyes again.

“I- I-“

“Come on. Say it”

He taunted.

He knew I couldn’t, pressure in my stomach beginning to rise again. If he asked me what my name was in that moment I probably would have had to genuinely think before answering.

“This dick got you dumb, huh? My dumb little slut”

He mumbled, his words sending me over the edge completely. My body thrashed around as I squirted all over his dick, some of it getting on his stomach and chest. The force was so strong that it pushed him out, his heavy dick sliding right on top of my clit.

“Gahdamn, baby” he watched the rest of my juices drip onto the sheets, his dick now jumping from sensitivity.

“I-I’m done”

I breathed heavily and closed my legs, the two limbs shaking as if I had been freezing for hours.

“Nah, you getting the full experience, ma. Turn that ass around”

He grabbed my hips and flipped my limp body onto my stomach, earning a cry from me. He sat on top of my thighs and squeezed my ass with his hands, spreading my cheeks apart before spitting down onto my second hole, taking his thumb and spreading it around before slowly easing it inside of my ass.

I choked out another cry, the strange new found sensation making my eyes roll back painfully, my pussy clenching around absolutely nothing.

After a few seconds passed, he was back to his original pace, pounding into my pussy from the back while slowly thrusting his thumb into my ass, the feeling giving me goosebumps and sending a shock to my clit as he smacked on my ass with his other hand before shoving my head down into the pillows under me, muffling my screams.

He leaned down, getting closer to my ear while somehow keeping up his pace, his dick now twitching inside of me more frequently, showing he was close to cumming if the constant dirty talk didn’t already do that, saying things like

“Imma be the best nigga and the only nigga to ever beat this pussy up like this”

“This good pussy all mine? Yeah? Imma lucky ass nigga”

“She so wet for me, baby. She practically droolin”

“Keep grippin’ like that, you gon’ make daddy nut”

he grunted, smacking my ass harder as he dug into me deeply, my toes curling painfully. My pussy was now drenched, my juices spreading around my inner thigh and lips, more of my cream spilling out onto his dick. I was so wet that I couldn’t even feel him rubbing up against my walls anymore, now only feeling when he hit the limit of my pussy, the ‘wall’ not allowing him to go any further.

“Daddy, please”

I begged, the pillow making it come out in a hushed tone. My pussy felt so filled and overwhelmed, my clit getting so sensitive with the sheets rubbing up against it as I laid flat on the bed, letting Erik do his worst, or what I thought was his worst.

“Fuck—…That’s it, baby, lemme use this lil pussy” we both moaned in sync, the man letting my head come up from the pillow for air.

“SHIT!- I’m about to nut!”

He shouted, his thrusts becoming more sloppy and reckless, wet slapping sounds filling the room, accompanying the sounds of the headboard banging against the wall the faster he got, one of the picture frames on the wall falling down along the line. He pulls his thumb out of me and grips my ass harshly, softly biting the top of my ear.

“Keep squeezing, baby. Just like that”

He hums, kissing my cheek softly and pausing his thrusts, grinding his hips into me.

“Erik-“

my bottom lip quivers and he smacks my ass, making me whimper and drop my head into the pillows, shaking my head.

“Now try again” he adjusts himself on his knees again, scratching his neatly trimmed and glossed nails up the sides of my thighs, swollen red stripes following after.

“Daddy—“ I cried out as I felt him ram his entire length into me once more before filling me up with a harsh sigh and a jerk of his hips.

“Fuck…”

he groans and leans up. Slowly pulling his dick out, he watched as some of his cum follows after him, spilling out of me and sliding down to my sensitive clit, my pussy clenching.

—-

“Damn…is that how sex is for everybody?” I asked. It was about an hour later and I was laying there limp as Erik chuckled, grabbing a baby wipe out of my drawer and wiping me off, my hips bucking once he swiped over my clit with the baby wipe. “Nope. But if you stick wimme, I promise it’ll be like that” he kisses my back “every” another kiss. “single” another. “Time” he smacked my ass, causing me to pull my ass up into the air and whimper, my hand reaching back to rub the spot.

————

Hopefully the person that requested this likes it, I didn’t know if they were down with the kinky shit but most of my other work looks like this so fuck it lmao.

[choclodox]

Lyle’s IQ score Head Canon

HEAR ME OUT: as much as Lyle def gives me himbo™️ energy, I also feel like he’s supposed to be…PRETTY SMART? he’s just also goofy. Like, I feel like he’s one of those friends that’s the smartest but also the dumbest person you’ve ever had at the same time.

Here is my evidence (dons glasses and grabs a laser pointer)

1. First and foremost, I’m pretty sure Quaritch wouldn’t let a dumbo be able to advance to the rank of Corporal, so Lyle needs to have SOME level of competency (but there’s still some room for his goofball nature lol).

Side note, studies show that people who are comical tend to have higher IQs since it ranks critical thinking to understand humor and make jokes. So Lyle is at least smart in that department.

2. In the first movie, we can see that Trudy trusts him enough to work on her Samson. We all know how much Trudy LOVED her Baby, so she must have had some serious trust in Lyle (someone who wasn’t an RDA mechanic) to let him even TOUCH her Rogue One’s equipment.

3. Also in the first movie, Lyle actually knows his stuff about combat theory and the AMP suits. When Quaritch has Lyle survey the aftermath of the Omatikaya’s retaliation for the destruction of the Tree of Voices, Lyle is able to describe in detail what the damages are. He’s able to tell that the arrows were fired from Ikrans based off the angles of the arrows in the damaged equipment and dead bodies, he can say for a fact that the AMP suits are not just damaged but what exactly is damaged (the Driver in this case).

4. Now in the 2nd movie, we actually get to see more of his smarts come into action. Lyle actually gets promoted from Corporal to Lieutenant and becomes second in command to Quaritch. The RDA wouldn’t let that happen if he was purely a trigger happy soldier; you needs some gray matter for that position.

5. Next, Quaritch looks to LYLE to pull the security feed off of OG Quaritch’s AMP suit. And Quaritch is a smart guy too, but it feels like Big Curly Q knows he’s out of his depth on this one and just hands it off to Lyle because he knows that he actually knows his stuff.

But ya, thanks for coming to my TedTalk :)

Also, a few other hcs I embrace

Lyle is that ONE gringo friend that knows FLUENT Spanish (and possibly knows other languages as well). And when I say Gringo, I don’t mean he’s white but is still Hispanic, no. There is a reason why JamCam named this man after Wainfleet, Ohio (the Ohio of Ohio). But nobody questions his ability to speak Spanish. You leave him alone in any Authentic Hispanic setting and come back in 20 minutes, they’re running to the liquor store because they already ran out of Tequila/pisco/etc. TEAM LATINO LOVES HIM

*side note, Jake probably knows some Spanish too since he did his tours in Venezuela. Who knows, maybe he taught some to Spider because he knows he’s team Latino. A

*and Quaritch probably knows some of Nigeria’s native languages (Hausa, Yoruba, Igbo, etc) since he did 3 whole tours there before coming to Pandora

Lyle likes 90s music (Britney Spears, Mariah Carey) but mainly SHAKIRA. I could see him just dancing alone to Hips Don’t Lie and someone walks in trying to get his attention, but he doesn’t notice and they have to clear their throat and he just screams when he finally notices them

He can dance Samba, Cumbia, Tango, Flamenco. ANYTHING in that family HE CAN DO IT FLAWLESSLY ASU PAPI

Might come from a family of mechanics and worked in a mom and pop mechanic shop (I embrace that one HC where he has a love for cars and just engineering in general). Maybe he wanted to be a more refined engineer but just couldn’t pass the tests since he was more of an intuitive thinker and tests favor more of the technical thinkers.

Likes DragonBall Z but will never admit it

[intoanotherworld23]

Deep Water

Characters: William Miller, Ben Miller, Francisco Morales and Santiago Garcia, and female reader

Warnings: Mentions of killing and blood, shooting, dead body, murder, drinking, swear words, drugging, and kidnapping

Summary: Drowning your sorrows in another bar since the mysterious murder of your family, your luck seems to run out that night when you witness a horrific murder done by the most ruthless mob in the city known as The Frontiers

I rewatched Triple Frontier for like the millionth time, and then got stuck in a loophole of reading all kinds of Triple Frontier fics, and decided to go ahead a write something of my own and was completely inspired by many people! I really hope you guys enjoy this one cause I think this is going to be an amazing read!! If you wish to be added to the tag list be sure to let me know in the comments or my ask box! Also sorry for this but I’m tagging everyone on my tag list for the first chapter just to get more opinions about this! Thank you so much! XOXO

Part 2

Not understanding why you did it, but you always ended up at the bar. Feeling the liquid burn down your throat making you hiss. The bartender laughed shaking his head every time you motioned for another drink.

Looking around the room there were all kinds of people here. Feeling your body slouching in the chair, but nobody seemed to pay attention to you. It almost seemed as if they were doing everything they could to avoid you.

Being used to that feeling of loneliness it didn't faze you not having anybody. Ever since your family was killed you were numb to every feeling you could ever have.

Coming home to finding your parents and older brothers bloody bodies on the living room floor. Wondering how they were so easily killed even when they were heavily guarded. Nobody knew who killed them, and the entire case was dropped.

Ever since they were killed people didn't look at you, and they certainly didn't want anything to do with you. It puzzled you why wondering who your family really was. There was something more to them, and you certainly weren't interested in finding out.

Your mother never told you what your father did, and always kept it hush. All you can really remember is random men always coming over wearing suits and serious faces. His office was a forbidden room, and never allowed anyone in there.

All you know is your father made a lot of money and was a very powerful man. People in a sense feared your father but you didn't realize any of this until after he was killed. Questions running through your mind all the time that would go unanswered.

"Want something else?" The bartenders voice intruded your thoughts. "Maybe the tab."

"Yeah yeah I get it." Grumbling as you shuffled through your purse pulling out your card handing it to him. "What's so great about this place anyway."

"Do you not know who owns the bar?" He seemed surprised by your question as he stood there his eyes wide.

"No." You strung out the word shaking your head your full attention on him. “Should I?”

"The Frontiers own this place." He spoke the words hushed afraid they would hear him, and appear from the darkness. "The ruthless mobsters that run this city."

"They own this bar?" Saying more to yourself then the bartender who chuckled at your shocked response.

"Yeah they own this bar." Watching as he swiped your card through the machine. "Along with every other bar in this city. Or at least Ironhead is the one who owns them.”

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.” Slapping a hand on your forehead in disbelief as you sighed loudly.

“I wish I was hon but yeah this is their bar.” Pressing his lips together with raised eyebrows a sympathetic look on his face.

"I had no idea." Your voice quiet as you started to look around hoping they didn't sneak there way in here.

"Sweetheart the minute you walk out into the streets." He started to say as you looked up into his eyes. "They own you already."

Gulping so loudly you felt everyone could hear it. If it wasn't for the liquor you had in your system you would have ran out of this place so fast you would leave a trail of smoke.

You've never seen them before but you certainly have heard of them. Knowing what they did to people who betrayed them, or simply even pissed them off. They could kill anyone and nobody could touch them.

All you really knew about them was there names. Santiago, Francisco, William and Ben Miller who were brothers. You also knew they had nicknames like Fish, Ironhead, Pope and Benny. Will was the leader of the group and was the most ruthless out of all of them. Frankie was his second in command, along with Santiago and Benny.

"Here you go." Soon as he handed you back your card you shoved it into your purse hopping off the chair stumbling a bit on your feet. "Have a good night."

"Thanks." Mumbling with a stoic look still being polite to which he responded with a small smile and a nod.

Looking around for the exit you just started to walk letting your legs take over hoping you would just find your way out of here. Stumbling down the hall seeing a red neon sign above a door that read exit.

Not planning to get this intoxicated when you unknowingly entered the Frontiers bar. At least they didn't know up here and start causing violence like they were known to do. Just wanting to get home and pass out on top of your bed.

As you pushed the door open a cold breeze gushed around your body. Tugging your jacket tighter to your now shivering body as you looked around. Turning to start heading back to your apartment.

The streets were empty and it was eerily quiet. Not even a car was driving by which was making you a little nervous. The alcohol flowing through your system was making you a little more paranoid then usual.

Moving your legs as quickly as you could just wanting to get home so you could sleep this feeling off. Your heels clacking against the pavement it sounding louder than it usually would.

"Where the fucks our money?" A dark voice shouted from the inside of an alley making your feet stop in there tracks.

"Don't make us ask you again." It was a different voice but sounded just as dark.

Unaware that your feet were slowing moving towards the potentially dangerous sounds. Clutching your purse tightly to your chest as you peeled around the corner of the alley. Your eyes locked on three men standing around another man. His hands tied behind his back and his head slumped forward.

If it wasn't for those stupid drinks your ass would have been home already. Instead your curiosity got the better of you and you had to see for yourself what was going on.

All you could make out was their faces. The man holding the gun had tan skin with dark hair and a matching mustache, and the man to the right of him had blonde hair with a matching scruffy beard, and the man to the left had darkish hair with thin scuff around his lower face.

It shocked you how good looking these men really were especially the one holding the gun. Whoever these mysterious handsome men were they certainly had something dark and dangerous about them.

What intrigued you the most was the one with the blonde hair who had sparkling blue eyes that shined beneath the moon light, and gave him an even more menacing look. A shiver ran up your spine at the thought of getting a look up close.

"I'm losing my fucking patience with you Dave." The blonde haired man spoke shaking his head back and forth slowly. He looked and sounded like he was the leader of this group.

"You've got five seconds before I'll blow your head off." The man holding the gun spoke an accent behind his voice.

"I'm telling you I don't have the money Ironhead." The man pleaded as he cried silently begging for his life. "Please don't kill me."

That must be his nickname as the blonde haired man stepped forward crossing his arms across his chest. Kicking something in front of him trying hard not to lose his patience. The man holding the gun kept looking over at him waiting for some time of signal to be given to him.

Gripping the brick of a building you were crouching behind unable to walk away from this scene. It felt like you were watching a movie, and you couldn't take your eyes off it. Your eyes going back and forth between all of them wondering what was going to happen next.

“Then tell us where the fucking money is.” The man screamed louder this time making you jump.

“It’s gone.” He whispered loud enough for them to hear bowing his head down in fear. “He’s got your money.”

"Wrong answer."

Before the man could say anything else a boom rang through the alley, and rand through your ears. Covering your mouth quickly as soon as your felt a scream bubbling in your throat. Watching as the man's body dropped to the floor a pool of blood surrounding his body.

Stepping back from the horrific scene keeping your hand over your mouth just wanting to get out of there. Feeling a tear running down your cheek realizing you had just witnessed a murder. Never have you ever seen someone get shot point black out in the open.

Before you could make it very far your body backed up into another body. Standing there frozen as you heard a light chuckle and a breath near your ear. Wishing you would have just kept walking or could find the urge to run away from this scene.

"Looks like we have a curious little kitten." His hands gripped your waist pushing you forwards towards the other three men. "Should have just walked away sweetheart."

All eyes focused on you as they watched you being pushed towards them looking terrified. The one with the dark hair putting his gun away his eyes looking your body up and down. The man behind you gripped the backs of your arms when he felt you start to move.

It felt like a light was shining down on your figure as you felt all there gazes on you. Just wanting the ground to swallow you whole so you could get out of here. Maybe you should have just stayed in the bar a little longer, and this could have been avoided.

"Who do we have here?" The one with the mustache spoke up hands on his hips as he looked at you with a smirk. "Pretty little thing."

"This little one was watching the whole thing." Your head shoved down in shame and embarrassment knowing you got caught red handed.

"See the whole thing?" You didn't realize you were being asked a question until you felt someone lightly shove you making you look up at the man who was called Ironhead.

"Yes." Squeaking out feeling your mouth becoming very dry.

There was complete silence as you felt his gaze burning a hole in your face. Not realizing how attractive all these men really were until you were standing so close to them. Feeling your cheeks heat up for the thought of even drooling over these killers.

The man holding you stepped next to Ironhead both of them whispering back and forth. He had longer hair than the rest of them, and had an incredibly youthful look about him. They looked like they could be brothers or something.

"Kill her." Was all he said as he turned away cold as ice your eyes wide in fear not thinking tonight was the night of your death.

"What?" The one holding you before stepped closer to you almost in a defensive stance. "Come on Will we don't have to kill her."

"She's a fucking witness Benny." He glared at his partner his voice filled with authority. “The last thing we need is a squeaky wheel.”

"I don't think this one will talk." The man with the darkish hair and sprinkle of gray mixed in looked deeply into your eyes making you turn away.

Benny stepped around you standing directly behind you feeling his body hovering over you protectively. Keeping your eyes focused on other things acting like they weren’t talking about you like you weren’t there.

"You don't know that Pope." He argued back with him.

"I agree with Benny and Pope man." The one with dark brown hair spoke up this time.

"Shut the fuck up Fish." Ironhead snarled feeling conflicted right now as he watched your trembling body in his brothers hands. "All of you shut the fuck up."

These nicknames they were using sounding incredibly familiar. Repeating the names in your head over and over again trying to think of where you had heard them before. It seemed like you were just talking about men who had names like that.

"What's your name?" He asked as he crossed his arms across his chest.

"Y/F/N Y/L/N." Hearing an intake of breath behind you as soon as they heard your last name.

It really confused you as to why they had the reaction they did when you said your name. Maybe they knew who your father was, and would ultimately decide to let you go, or they could tell you more about him than anyone else has. That was a fat chance though and most likely they were enemies.

It suddenly hit you as to who was all standing around you. It was the Frontier men, and you felt your entire body turn into ice. Feeling those drinks starting come back up your throat threatening to spill out of your mouth and onto the concrete.

Feeling like it was just too big of a coincidence drinking unknowingly in there bar, witnessing a murder, and now here you were in there hands. This was definitely not your night.

Having witnessed these ruthless mobsters killing a man in the alley. Feeling even more stupid smacking yourself in the face wishing you would have just walked away. Now here you were facing what felt like a trial on whether you got to live or die.

The three men were standing close together as they quietly spoke with one another. Going back and forth with each other trying to decide what to do with you. All kinds of questions running through your mind right now trying to figure a way out of this.

What was probably just a few minutes felt like hours. Staring down at your feet as the continued to talk. Not paying attention to the fact that Benny was soothingly rubbing your arms up and down.

"She comes with us." Ironhead finally spoke as he scratched his beard sighing loudly coming to this conclusion. "Keep her quiet."

"Please don't." You begged shaking your head hoping they would just let you go, but you had a gut feeling they weren't going to. "Please I promise I won't say a word."

"We can't risk that doll." Fish said with a calm sympathetic tone in his voice giving you a small smile to which you didn't return.

"Please don't kill me." Hearing your voice quiver as tears were flowing down your cheeks now.

"Did you not hear me?" Ironhead cocked his head at you as he stepped closer to you. "We're letting you live."

"Please just let me go." Pushing not letting it go hoping they would become annoyed and decide to just let you safely back home. "Please don't do this to me."

"Take her to the car Benny." Was all he said before he turned around to the other men. "We'll be right behind you."

Ironhead leaned to Benny whispering something in his ear before he looked to you. Benny nodded his head before he turned back to you with no emotion on his face.

"Come on darling let's go." His hand tugged you to face the other way as he led you into the car. "This is for the best."

You couldn't believe that any of this was happening to you right now. The last thing you ever thought was being kidnapped by a bunch of cold hearted ruthless mobsters. Thinking that maybe your family being murdered was already enough.

"I just want to go home." Speaking out loud without realizing it as you shuffled into the car.

"Maybe you should have walked away and minded your own business." He warned you with a look on his face saying not to push him.

Looking away as he wrapped something around your wrists tightly so you couldn’t escape. The fabric burning your skin as you moved your hands wincing at the minor pain. You could tell the man felt bad, but he clearly wasn’t going to help you.

"Maybe I should have." Grumbling as you looked out the car window watching the other men wrap the body up carrying it to the car.

This was like something out of a movie, and you were waiting any minute for the director to yell cut or something. Or pinch yourself hard enough and you’d wake up from this horrific dream.

"There not putting the body in here are they?" Looking over at Benny sitting at the drivers seat bored.

"Yeah of course." He shook his head with a light chuckle before he turned around to face you. "Can't have somebody finding it."

“Or maybe you just shouldn’t have killed the guy.” Spitting out before you could stop yourself but it seemed to amuse him.

“Well shit you sure got bite.” He bellowed out in disbelief at how you were talking to him considering everything. “We’ll get along just fine you and I.”

Your heart was starting to race rapidly as you sat frozen in your seat. Palms were sweating horribly as you felt the bile rising in your throat again. Your chest was heaving up and down as you slowly felt yourself start to panic.

Not moving a muscle as the three men stuffed the bloody body into the trunk of the car. Slamming it shut making your jump terror coursing through your body at the thought of being in a car with four killers.

Ironhead got into the passenger seat, and Fish and Pope got on either side of you. The tension was thick in the car, and you were starting to become overheated and overwhelmed. You can throw out not getting into cars with strangers out the window.

“What are you guys going to do with me?” Timidly asking once they all got settled in the car. There was silence for a couple of seconds which was making you even more nervous.

“That all depends on you.” A stern voice responded from the front making your eyes diverge to him.

“Behave and you’ll be okay.” Pope answered reassuringly to you, but nothing about his words felt reassuring at all.

One wrong move or wrong answer, and you could possibly end up like the man wrapped in tarp in the trunk. These were ruthless men who would kill anyone including you. For some reason though thankfully they decided to keep you alive. Well at least for the time being probably.

"Sorry about this sweetheart." Fish said with a pathetic smile before you felt something prick your neck before you could let out a scream.

Quickly realizing that it was a needle that went into your skin. Your vision was getting blurry, and you felt like the car was spinning. Trying to keep your eyes open fighting whatever drug he injected you with.

Feeling your body going limp as you slumped in your seat rolling your head to the side against Popes shoulder. Benny looked in the rear view mirror feeling sorry that this was happening to you.

"Go Benny." Ironhead growled not bothering to check if you were okay.

The last thing you remember was the sound of a roaring engine before darkness completely took over your body.

[intoxicated-chan]

𝐓𝐰𝐨 ✠ ❝𝐖𝐞𝐚𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐔𝐧𝐢𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐦 𝐚𝐬 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐅𝐨𝐫𝐠𝐞𝐭 𝐘𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐅𝐮𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐞❞

(A/n) ➳ Started playing the older games of Assassin’s Creed and when I tell you it’s so cuz I’m so used to Rogue/Black Flag controls. But you can expect some works for AC2 and Black Flag, maybe AC1 as well.

Word Count ➳ 1.6k

Content Warnings ➳ descriptions of violence, mentions of death, Chevalier being as asshole, talk about marriage/children...

Dreamers Masterlist

Liam held your arms firmly, his grip bruising. He pushed you into one of the rooms of the manor, the door slamming behind him with a loud thud, it was clear how frustrated and angry he was.  

You nearly hit the ground if it wasn’t for the desk you collided into, knocking over books and papers off the desk. You winced from the impact and were surprised by Liam’s action. You looked back at him, fearful.  

“Why did he do it?” You questioned, trembling under the eyes of your own brother. You dared not look at your arms and see the marks he left. But as scared you were, you were confused, you had no idea what went on.  

“Is it true what they say? That Shay stole the manuscript?” 

Liam paced back and forth, his hands clenched together. “You don’t understand. Shay betrayed us, betrayed the Brotherhood. There is no good reason for what he’s done.”  

“Yet you and I know him, Liam!” You insisted. “He would not do this without cause. Tell me, what happened in Lisbon?!”  

Liam froze as his head snapped in your direction. “You’re acting like a child.” He scoffed at you. “This is not a game! His choices put all of us in danger!”  

You flinched at his loud voice. “Then stop treating me like one! I can take care of myself!”  

“Can you?” He argued. “Chevalier could’ve shot you instead? Do you understand that? You could be dead because of Shay!”  

Yet you ignored his words and thought differently. “Shay had a reason.” You once again repeated. “And I intend to find out what it was, with or without you.” 

Liam pressed his lips together for a moment, his hands ran over his face as he was struggling to calm himself. “You will not.” He finally spoke. “You will stay here, on Davenport, and you will leave with me if I must.” He declared.  

“I will be keeping an eye on you.”  

You snorted, waving him off with a flick of your arm. But he remained stern, his gaze unwavering as he stared. Your smile slowly dropped when you realized that he was being genuine.  

“You cannot be serious!”  

“Would you like Chevalier to do the same?! I'm sure he would love ordering you around like a dog!”  

You stepped closer to him, getting in his face. “I am part of this Brotherhood just like you! I have fought by your side! I have fought for you all like the rest! Yet you treat me like- like-!”  

Liam grabbed your shoulder, and you froze in response. “Achilles will have you killed if you say another word.” As furious as he sounded, you could hear a crack in his voice. “I promised father that I would protect you, and I intend on to. Do you understand me?”  

Liam was right. Achilles would kill you if he caught of whiff of betrayal and Liam’s face solidified your answer. You knew that he tried to keep his anger from you, not wanting scare you away, and kept a kind face around you, yet he was honest this time. 

His eyes stared into yours, he watched as tears fell as you maintain a strong face. Or tried to. He saw right through your facade. He knew you were hurting, after all, Shay was your friend too. 

He engulfed you in his tight embrace, allowing you to cry in his arms. But he left you there. Alone.  

You cried in the room, collapsed to the ground. This time, you cried into your hands, truly believing the Shay was gone. Hope came moments later, trying to soothe your sobs by rubbing your back and whispering in your ears.  

Liam ignored the stares coming from everyone. He refused to speak to anyone, more like nobody dared to speak to him when they saw his face. His jaw was clenched, and his eyes were narrowed.  

If Shay never fell down that cliff, he would’ve strangled him with his own hands for putting his sister in danger.

 

DAVENPORT HOMESTEAD, 1755 

Either you were brilliant or just blatantly lucky. The year without Shay was painfully long, yet all those days and nights spent in a room were trying to find anything that screamed Shay. But all of them were dead ends, you were starting to believe that it was all lost cause. 

Risking your position and your life... Was it all for nothing? Questioning your loyalty to the Brotherhood, was it all for nothing?  

You tossed your bag over your shoulder, carrying all the papers, scrolls, and maps of your search. You didn’t dare leave any of it behind in case someone came across it and reported it back to Achilles or Liam.  

You had gained permission from Liam to go on a mission without him. Your heart pounded quickly as you boarded Chevalier’s ship.  

It was bustling with activity from the crew, cleaning the deck of the ship, repairing damage, working on cannons or its mortars. You felt out of place, you clutched the strap of your bag tightly and stepped towards Chevalier carefully.  

He eyed you, arms crossed as his lips curled into a sneer. You opened your mouth to greet him, but he raised his hand, cutting you off. “If you try anything girl, you shall end like the cabbage farmer.” Chevalier advised.  

You nodded in agreement. “I will be out of your way.” You replied. “Captain.”  

He scoffed at you, heading towards the wheel of the ship. “Seems like you can listen.”  

You kept silent, knowing that any sign of disobedience would jeopardize your task. When he started barking his orders, you rushed below deck, pushing past the crew going up or down the steps.  

The ship sailed smoothly for hours, from word from the crew, it was a secure path that they often took to avoid the Royal Navy.

It was dark when the ship docked at a small settlement, and the crew, including Chevalier, went towards the tavern.  

Though a couple of members stayed on the ship, it was easy to slip past them and enter the captain’s cabin. The room was illuminated by candles, and many of them surrounded a large table.  

It was easy to tell that these were his maps, you flipped through the stacks, unrolling the scrolls until you found one that stuck out the most. You wanted to cheer with joy but instead you took out your own parchment and used Chevalier’s quill and ink to copy the actives of the Royal Navy.  

The minutes flew by, yet they felt like an eternity. You felt like you were sweating, your dominant hand nearly shaking from the panic. You had to get every detail correct, you could not afford to mess up.  

Suddenly, the sound of footsteps came from the deck outside. You gasped, dropping the quill and rolling up the maps, and carefully hiding them in your bag.  

Just as you were about to slip out the same way you came in, you heard voices approaching the cabin... Chevalier.  

You rushed away from the door, your eyes scanning the room for an escape route. You spotted a small window and hurriedly climbed through.  

You climbed the side of the ship, trying to remain calm as you heard the drunken shouts of the crew, the obnoxious singing and chatter did nothing but stress you out more.  

But you took your chance, landing on the deck of the ship. But no one had said a thing, they were drunk out of their minds or focused on the drunks. You were invisible to them.  

1757 

As rather small Davenport seemed to be, it was always active. You sat on a bench, watching the community go about their daily tasks. You watched as people cut down trees, prepared food, and parents playing with their children.  

“(Y/n).” He began from behind you, resting his arms against the bench. “What’s on your mind?” 

“Have you ever wished for kids?” You asked him, you didn’t look back at Liam. 

Liam looked in the direction you were looking. “If things had gone differently, there was a chance. A different life, perhaps.”  

You laughed. “You’ve told me time and time again that my life was supposed to be different. Apparently, you had it all worked out.” Now, you looked back at him and saw him grumble which made you laugh again. “And you’re still angry about that.”  

Liam sighed and took his place beside you. “I suppose I am. You were always stubborn. I don’t know why I thought you would just go along with what I had for you.”  

You leaned back and looked up at the sky, the cloud slowly passing by. “I’ve had this dream. A wonderful husband, a child or two. My husband works aboard for work, disappearing for months but always comes home.”  

He raised an eyebrow. “Am I in this dream of yours?” His tone was playful. 

“Yes. You’re married and have numerous of children.” You rolled your eyes, earning a jab from him.  

He laughed as well until it came to a halt. You hated how peaceful this moment was. And you hated having to tell your dream that was meant to have Shay in it to Liam. 

“I know you’d make a wonderful mother.” Liam started. “But I cannot see you watching your children grow.”  

“Excuse me?”  

“The life as an assassin is a life you cannot escape. We are bound to it. Whether you are a wife, a mother, or a sister, our duty comes first. And assassins... We don’t have the luxury of a future.”  

“It does not have to be that way.”  

“It’s the order of things, we cannot change it.”  

© Intoxicated-Chan 2024, I do not allow my work to be copied, translated, modified, adapted, or put on any other platform without my permission.  

⊰ Chapter 1 ⊰ » » YOU’RE HERE « « ⊰ Chapter 3 ⊰

[dansconcepts]

DRV3 meets SDR2

A drabble for that idea where the DRV3 cast also went through a simulation.

.·:*¨ ✘♚✘ ¨*:·.

He’s been speculated, many times, if he really was the Ultimate Liar and not the Ultimate Supreme Leader with how often his mouth spews bullshit. 

But everything was a lie, so what does it matter anymore?

There’s the strange way he had to look at this man, with dark hair cropped under the cheap, shitty lighting that fills this facility, claiming to have all the talents under the sun, and simply trust that their talents weren’t real.

“But, you have them now.” He stated, again in this monotone voice that grated his ears. He sounded so bored while everyone else's world crashed around him like the predictable little pawns they were not that he was faring that much better.

“You sure seem pretty nonchalant about this! I sure thought you’d be more touchy-feely, Mr. Kamukura, sir.” 

Heterochromatic eyes immediately sharpened toward him. He heard the way his classmates whisper, how loudly they go, “Kamukura? That guy’s name is Hajime Hinata, isn’t it?”, but he ignored it all. Despite his sly tone, he knew his face is only dead serious. He heard all about this man in passing, from the whispers of other Remnants and snooping into places he got into with more ease than he probably should’ve. There was no use playing pretend with this man. He was a cold, unfeeling robot- full offense Kiibo- but a masterful genius who contributed to the Tragedy.

“I… apologize.” Kamukura’s tone turned more contemplative, but still undeniably monotone. He even had the audacity to nod at him, as if acknowledging what he said, but he knew he’s not even going to attempt to address it. “I harbour empathy for you all, despite how I express it.” 

That was the worst lie he ever heard, but the man had no tells suggesting it, or perhaps he will never be able to recover the ability to understand a person from their body language. So what’s the point then? None of this was going to be worthwhile. Might as well tune it out. It's all white noise, until-

“I was once a talentless nobody, and I gained every talent at once.”

“How… is that possible?” Shuichi’s voice chimed in, and Kokichi started. The detective hadn’t made a single sound since everyone came in.

“Human experimentation.” 

Silence. 

“I have no desire to discuss it. I hardly remember it, regardless. The fact of the matter is, I was talentless, a Reserve Course student of Hope’s Peak, and well… I obtained a talent. Talents.”

He looked around the room. “You would be going through an experience. The inverse of my situation applies to you, so I cannot say much. The talents you had in the game were false, but that does not mean no portion of it was real. I know some of you have already recovered some of your past memories.

Being talentless does not mean useless. This I swear to you.”

“Easy for you to say! You have every talent at your disposal! We lost the one thing that makes us-!”

“‘-who you are.’” Kamukura finished. “Predictable. Bor-.” A pause. 

Suddenly, his eyebrows furrowed and a scowl painted his features. This was Hajime. “I’m sorry about him, he’s trying. Look, just take it from me, even when I was talentless I was probably the most sane and helpful out of all the damn Ultimates in my killing game. Hope’s Peak were monsters for making us think that not being labeled as Ultimates suddenly meant you were useless. They forced society to care about a select few individuals and look where it got us.” 

“Your talents didn’t make you who you are. You made your way through because of everything, and the talents you had didn’t really help much in the end, did they? Because they sure as hell didn’t help me.”

[hotgirlgraps]

Battered

Streetfighter!hook

Synopsis: Hook isn’t just a ring name in AEW but you figure that out when it’s too late to stop him

Warnings: depictions of blood and injury, angst, cursing, violence

A/N: I caught the O’Malley vs Sterling fight in the break room and just couldn’t stop thinking about hook as an underground streetfighter for some reason lmao (and yes I know the boxers aren’t streetfighters but this is just where my mind went)

The low hood shadowed the thick, velvet scar crossing through the arch of his eyebrow, along with the puffed out lower left side of his lip that had an identical cut to match, but not as well as he intended.

“Where do these scars keep coming from?” You asked as you gently ran your thumb over one of the cuts.

“You know I’m a pro wrestler.” He muttered as he pulls his head away, trying to hide the wince from the pain that the slightest touch caused.

“You haven’t stepped in the ring in over a month, Tyler.” You deadpan, and he can practically feel your suspicions slicing through him, but he tries not to acknowledge that.

“I did some practice in the gym the other day and the dude got me.” He shrugged. “It’s not a big deal. I’ll heal.”

But you didn’t believe him, and it wasn’t just due to the fresh scars that decorated his face either. Tyler was a horrible liar. He’d always been. He can never look you in the eyes when he fabricated the truth, which was exactly why he was staring down at his busted knuckles instead.

You took a moment to think, but you didn’t even need to. The truth was staring you right in the face and you were tired of pretending that it wasn’t.

“You’re streetfighting, aren’t you?”

You watched his shoulders immediately tense up, his teeth locking down behind his lips making his jaw bone throb. You rolled your eyes and looked away, unable to keep staring at those wounds on your boyfriend’s face.

“So when were you planning on telling me? After I have to see you in a hospital bed with a concussion? Or were you gonna just wait until you were in a coma and I had to find out for myself that you’ve been lying to me for who knows how long!”

“Stop.” He muttered, picking his head back up. “Just try to understand-“

“We talked about this so many times, Tyler! I told you exactly how I felt about you doing this! It’s dangerous! I’ve seen my dad get his skull cracked in half and you know that! Why do you want to do this shit?!”

“I love it.” He shrugs easily. “I love the thrill and the adrenaline. I love knocking bitch ass punks out cold. I love the hype. I was meant to do this, Y/N. I know I was.”

You felt your heart sink in your chest. Clearly seeing the passion bursting through those dark eyes when he told you what it means to him, but it kills you inside knowing that he’s chosen something so dangerous. Possibly deadly, and he doesn’t seem to give that any regard whatsoever.

“It’s not the way it was when your dad broke into it. It’s rough, but people aren’t built like they used to be. I haven’t gotten seriously hurt yet, and I’ve been doing this for-“ he pauses, dropping his eyes to the floor before he says, “about six months now.”

“Six months?!” You snapped, “are you fucking kidding me?!”

“Obviously im not.” He eyes you again. “I’m being dead serious because this is something I love. It’s a part of my life now, just like you are and I guess I’m just telling you so you’ll accept it, cause I’m not stopping anytime soon.”

You felt tears stinging your eyes but you forced them back. Tyler watched your eyes well up and had to advert his attention elsewhere so he didn’t have to see those tears slip down your cheeks.

“Look” he sighs, “I’ll bring you to one of my fights. You can see for yourself that you don’t have to worry about me. Nobody’s ever come close to knocking me out. Yeah I have a couple bruises and shit but that’s just how the shit goes. I hold my own out there and I dominate everyone that comes for me. I’m the last person you ever have to worry about.”

Well, that lead to you standing in the midst of a bunch of drunk, wild people in a rundown underground basement. You couldn’t help but to bite your nails down to the nub as you intensely watched two guys aggressively throwing still jabs to each other’s jaws.

It was already hard to breathe in the smoky haze but even worse when Tyler was announced. The crowd roared when he came out, fists taped up and wearing gear similar to what he wears in AEW, but he didn’t look like that Hook.

Everyone chanted his name, some people holding fifty and hundred dollar bills in the air as they bet on his win. You didn’t even realize he was such a crowd favorite, but that just cemented the fact that he’d been living this whole double life you knew nothing about for six months.

He stepped up and adjusted the tape wrapped tightly around his wrists to cover the tender flesh on his knuckles. The scars so deep that the second they make contact with anything, they’re pouring blood.

The man he was up against had a good three inches of height on him, but he had much more muscle mass than the man did. There was no intimidation on the surface. Hook appeared just as calm, cool and collected as he always did in AEW, but you quickly realized as soon as the first punch was thrown that this was completely different.

All you heard was hook chants and the sounds of knuckle crashing into bone. One stiff jab in particular caused Hook to stumble back, dazed a bit but all it did was piss him off, and then you realized just why everyone was betting on him.

Fury bursted out of him as he threw his fists straight into the eye sockets, the jaw and the teeth of his opponent. He was a quick shooter. His opponent tried to block the shots to the face so Hook strikes them to the ribs instead, landing an uppercut when his opponent folded over.

But as soon as you thought the fight was going to come to a quick end, hook’s opponent reared his shoulder into his gut and slammed him down to the floor. The impact of your boyfriend’s spine crashing against the concrete make your stomach churn. You felt nauseas, hands trembling as you watched him getting punched everywhere that was visible.

He was trapped beneath his opponent, his knees digging into Hook’s rib cage preventing him from breaking free and all he could do was block those deadly punches as best as he could.

The chants only got louder and louder and it gave him more momentum. The crowd, but especially knowing you were out there in it.

In a desperate attempt to gain some leverage, when the next punch was thrown, hook caught it with his left hand, his right hand connecting directly into the teeth of his opponent, cracking one right down the center.

Blood oozed from the man’s mouth, leaving droplets all over Hook’s chest. He quickly reversed the roles and rolled himself on top of his battered opponent, his knees digging into the shoulders to keep the man from having any defense. With the man trapped underneath, Hook’s fists flew at a deadly speed, pounding into the man’s face until there was blood pouring out of every crevice on his skin.

He wasn’t satisfied until his opponent was limp. One good stiff jab to the jaw button followed by three clocks to the bridge of the nose and his opponent’s eyes rolled back, his entire body giving up any source of fight he could’ve possibly mustered.

The crowd erupted in wild screams when hook got off of him. He wiped the smeared blood from his bottom lip with the back of his hand, tainting the white tape with crimson to match his opponent’s blood all over his body and the floor.

He raised both arms up, eliciting more screams from the crowd before he scanned his eyes all around that smoky room, finding you within seconds. You had mixed reactions and he could see that, but all he was worried about was making sure he showed you that this is what he’s best at. This is what he loves. This is what he wants.

He made his way towards you, red welts all over his chest and neck and tinges of blood everywhere you could see. He pushed through the people in front of you until he was standing inches apart, his bloody, slick hand cupping your cheek before he crashed his lips with yours.

He was so amped up and you could feel that in the kiss. The passionate force behind his lips colliding with yours left you breathless when he pulled back.

He dropped his hand from your cheek to your hip and noticed the blood smearing across your skin that he left there.

As if he was reading your mind, he pulled you into his chest, arms wrapping tightly around you, blood staining on your clothes but neither he or you cared. You hugged him back, holding onto him for dear life he felt like. Your body was still shaking and nerves still wracking around within you but you couldn’t deny the fact that he really did dominate out there, just like he said. And it was clear more than ever that this was something he loves. Something he wouldn’t give up.

“You’re a badass.” You mumbled into his slick chest, feeling his arms tighten around you. “But listen to me, Senerchia, cause I’m only gonna say this once. You better not die on me, or I’ll bring you back to life and kill you myself.”

He pulls back and looks down at you, his eyes wide and wild and hair even more so, but a slight smirk tipping up his lips distracted you from all that. All the blood smeared on his skin and the welts that were soon bruises. That smile out-shown all of it.

“Never gotta worry about that, baby. I’m never leaving you.”

He placed another kiss to your lips briefly, leaving the taste of salty sweat and metallic in your mouth before he grabbed your hand and pulled you through the crowd, avoiding the people around trying to congratulate him and get him to sign things because all he was worried about was getting you home.

“Where are we going? I thought there were more fights? You don’t wanna stay and watch?”

“Nah” he smirks as the cold, New York air greets you both. “I got a lot of adrenaline pumping right now, im not wasting it.”

[bean-bean2000]

The Hacker - Part 12

airings: Bucky x Reader

Status: Ongoing

All feedback is very welcome and appreciated!

Warnings: angst, mention of bomb, fluffy feelings with Steve

Please let me know if i missed any warnings and I will add them.

Series masterlist

Part 11

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

You wake up in your room, head pounding. You get up slowly as you remember what happened.

You did it. He's dead. You're free.

You get out of bed and look at yourself in the mirror, tracing your fingers lightly over the harsh scar across your faces.

You realize that for the first time since it happened, you're no longer ashamed or disgusted by it. You're proud of it. It's proof of your bravery, resilience and loyalty.

You shower and throw on some comfortable clothes, heading to the kitchen.

As you turn the corner, the whole team quiets down and looks to you.

"Umm.. hey guys, what's up?" you say awkwardly, feeling weird about the silence in the room.

You move to the fridge and grab yourself a snack and drink.

"You... feeling okay?" Tony asks you awkwardly.

"Yeah?... why?... are YOU guys okay?" you question them with your brows raised.

A series of muffled "yeah, no, totally, for sure" and uneasy coughs spread across the room.

An awkward silence fills the room.

"So, are we going to talk about it, or?" Tony asks, breaking the silence.

The rest of the team shoot angry glares at him and you sigh heavily

"Okay, I get it. I killed him. I need you to remember that he wasn't my first kill. He was my first intentional kill but, it was a way for me to heal and ensure that I can move on and live my life in peace. I knew that if I let him live, I would be paranoid every second and terrified he captures me again, I wouldn't be able to even look at my face in the mirror anymore. Now, I can breathe. There's a weight lifted off my shoulders and when I look at myself, at the scar, I don't see pain and fear anymore, I see strength and resilience. I'm tired of being scared. I'm not anymore." you rant to the team. They stay silent and listen to you intently.

When you're done, nobody says anything, they all look at you with understanding looks with a small hint of pity.

The subject is soon changed abruptly by Tony again, trying to ease the tension in the air and make the mood more light. He starts ordering people around to make breakfast and so on.

You look at all of them, your eyes land on Bucky. He stares at you blankly.

Why hasn’t he spoken to me yet? What the hell changed? Maybe I thought I was seeing something that was never there…

You shake your head and walk away to your office.

You don’t hear the team telling Bucky off for his attitude.

“Dude what’s your problem?” Sam says.

“Why are you being an asshole?” Natasha prods

“Can you not show some emotion for more than three seconds?” Tony questions.

“Okay, guys that’s enough. You know how he is. I’m not happy with the way he’s acting either but he’ll figure it out. Just make sure you don’t hurt her, Bucky.” Steve says pointedly.

Bucky doesn’t reply to any of them. His mind is only focused on you.

After breakfast, Steve confronts Bucky “Buck, buddy, what’s going on?”

“Steve… I know we talked about this on the jet but I can’t help but feel like she’s better off without me…”

“What are you talking about? Why would you say that?”

“I’m the reason all of this happened… I caught her on the street when we were first chasing her. I was with her on the plane when she was kidnapped and couldn’t do anything about it—”

Steve cuts him off “Enough. Stop this. You can’t blame yourself for everything. We were all there. We all went to go get her. We were all on that first mission when she was kidnapped. The only reason you’re blaming yourself fully is because you can’t admit you have serious feelings for her and you push her away. I know you Buck, I know you better than I know myself. If you don’t wake up and realize what’s in front of you, somebody else will and it’ll be too late.”

Steve shakes his head and huffs out angrily.

“Listen man, it’s your choice but don’t come crying to me asking me where you went wrong. You fully know what you’re doing, you’re not stupid.” Steve ends the conversation and walks away.

——————————————————————————-------------------

A few days have passed since your last mission. You've been taking it easy, and doing small tasks here and there for the team. Any missions you've been on have remained remote.

As you're cleaning your office it feels different. The air is heavier. You haven't been in this room since you were kidnapped. When you had first returned, you couldn't even look at your door without having a panic attack.

Now, as you sit in your chair and start up your computer and hear the whirring, you smile at the familiarity of it. It feels like home to you now, your computer is your escape and your safety net.

You're working on rearranging your firewall and reinforcing the security of your system from any potential hydra hacking attempts when you hear a light knock at the door. You swivel around in your chair and see Steve leaning against the doorframe, his hands in his pockets.

"Hey, um....I just wanted to check on you..." Steve says.

You sigh "Thank you Steve, but honestly, I mean it when I say I'm okay. Last night was the first time in weeks since I've had a proper night's sleep without night terrors. I can handle myself."

"I know, I know you can and you proved that but even the strongest soldiers need help sometimes."

You bite your inner cheek as you take in what he's saying.

“I didn't come here as your boss or your captain, I came here as a friend, because I truly care about you and I needed to speak to you." Steve slowly enters your room, grabbing a chair to sit in front of you.

"I just wanted to let you know that I’m so happy that you’re feeling better and proud of all the progress you’ve made. I love you like a sister, I truly thought I lost you. I was desperate to save you, you’re my family and I felt helpless and lost when we couldn’t find you. Then we did find you and then we got ambushed and you almost got kidnapped again while we were right there! …. I - I’m so sorry… I’m so so so sorry that I wasn’t there to protect you, that Bucky and I weren’t there… we promised you and i’m so sorry…” Tears spill from his eyes down his cheeks.

“Oh Stevie, this wasn’t your fault. You never broke your promise, in my heart I know that you’re protecting me always, physically and in spirit. You and Bucky were protecting me when I was in that hell hole. You’re the reason I survived.” you explain to him.

“But- I…”

“I love you too Stevie. You’re my family, the entire team is the one and only true family I have ever had.”

You pull Steve in for a hug, which he accidentally crushes you a little too hard making you yelp lightly in surprise.

“Oh sorry! I’m just so happy you’re healthy and safe. Um, before I go, I wanted to mention one more thing… um... I need you on another mission. Still remote, we're not putting you in the field until you're ready again. Are you okay with that? I'll give you the debrief now if you're ready..." Steve

"Um... yeah I think I am... I think it's time for me to start getting back out there for real. I'm in, what's the mission?"

"It's a relatively simple mission. We need you to hack into the home security systems of a hydra agent. Disable all and any alarms or traps. You'll be guiding Bucky through the home every step of the way because he will be in complete darkness, only you will be able to see with the night vision cameras and guide him to the right room without being spotted."

"Alright, sounds simple enough. When do we start?"

"Tonight at midnight, be ready with your comms on. We need you inside those systems the moment Bucky steps foot onto that property."

"Understood." you say as you turn around and continue working on your computers.

Steve watches you for a little while, contemplating if he should say something but decides against it and walks away.

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

You're working on the systems, hacking into them, but they're more difficult than you had anticipated. You're hurrying as you see Bucky's truck approaching the property.

The second Bucky speaks over the comms, you're finally in. You tell him to wait while you disable all alarms and traps and turn on the night vision cameras in the home to guide him.

"Okay, all is clear. I intercepted all electronic and mechanical traps, beware of man-made ones that only you can see" you warn Bucky.

"Got it. Thanks." he replies.

Why is he being so cold? It's our first mission together after since i've returned...

"Alright, when I say go you need to duck and roll towards the bush to your left. Then, at my signal I will open the door and you'll slide in before it shuts. You have a 5 second window." you relay the plan to him.

"5 seconds? are you kidding me? Who do you think I am? The Flash?" he says sarcastically.

"No, The Winter Soldier." you reply slyly.

You hear his breath hitch as he stops in his tracks.

"Show me what you've got super soldier" you say flirtatiously.

"Doll, if you keep talking like that this mission will never get done."

"Sorry, did you prefer being called sir?" you challenge.

"Cyber...." he warns you.

"Alright you big grump, get ready... okay 3-2-1...go!" you give him the signal. You watch him duck and roll and slide through the door before it shuts quietly.

"Told you you could do it." you say with a smirk.

Bucky grunts in response which makes you laugh as you celebrate your small win.

Bucky is in the house. It's a large modern home, all glass windows and modern architecture; making it difficult for Bucky to sneak around and hide but easy for you to hack into.

The home is completely dark as you guide Bucky with every step so he doesn't make a sound and get caught.

"alright, there are 2 guards to your left. One of them is sleeping, the other is walking back and forth every minute, between where you're hiding and his sleeping buddy. When I say now, you will stealth attack the guard. Make sure he doesnt make a sound."

"Copy that." Bucky replies.

You're confused by his constant change of tones. One moment he's cold, the next he's hot and now he's cold again? Maybe he's just really focused on the mission....

"Alright, get into position he's coming your way... Now!"

You hear Bucky grab onto the guys neck and cover his mouth. He slowly chokes him into an unconscious state and then drags his body behind a counter.

"Nicely done." you compliment.

He doesn't reply, so you move on to the next opponent.

"The other guard is sleeping, so you can leave him be. To your right there's another guard. He's a big guy with lots of armour and a big gun. You're going to have to sneak past him, you can't take him out without causing too much noise."

"When I say go, you'll sprint to the stair case and hide behind that massive statue" you explain to him.

"Copy that." he replies dryly.

You roll your eyes and ruflfe your brows in angry confusion.

"Alright,... go!" you signal as you see him sprint and hide.

"I'm going to create a distraction so the big guy and his friend go in the opposite direction. You'll go up the stairs and hide behind the other massive statue at the top. This guy really likes statues damn."

You hear Bucky chuckle.

"What's the distraction?" Bucky asks.

"Oh, you'll know when you hear it." you chuckle.

Suddenly, random car alarms from everywhere start going off. Lights flashing, sirens blaring. You see the guards get up and rush away to find the source of the intrusion.

You smile to yourself in satisfaction "Are you up the stairs?"

"You weren't kidding, doll. That was impressive." he compliments you.

Now he's hot again... I don't understand?

"Okay, now when I say go, you will dash behind the plant to your right. Directly in front of the plant is the room you need to enter to grab the documents and go."

"The cameras are showing that the room is empty, but there are guards patrolling the entire floor. We need to do this properly, there are too many of them and you'll be overpowered."

"Okay... get ready.... go." you see him dash behind the plant.

Just as he's about to go for the door you see a guard start going up the stairs.

'Stop! Don't move. Guard coming up the stairs." You see Bucky squirm his way behind the plant as best he can, as the guard turns and walks in the opposite direction.

"The cameras show no movement inside the room. I removed the lock, once you go inside, go straight to his desk. I already stole all electronic files, you need to look for paper documents."

"Okay, coast is clear, get in the room." you say as he sprints to the door and quietly opens it as he slides inside.

You see him ruffling through the documents in the desk as you're keeping an eye out for the guards.

"I can't find anything. Are you sure there are paper documents?" He asks, frustrated.

"Yes. All information from the electronic data points to there being hard copies of the most highly classified documents as a safety measure. Their protocol is to burn all evidence if they get caught." You explain to him.

"I'm getting a reading from behind inside the desk. It looks like a large rectangular box. I think it's inside the desk itself. Look beneath it and see if the wooden panels are loose."

Bucky ducks beneath the desk and feels around for any loose panels when he hears a click and the panel slides open to the side. He grabs onto a rectangular metal box.

"I got it. There's no padlock or keypad to lock it.... wouldn't they keep more high profile cases more secure than this?" Bucky questions.

You're looking at him through the cameras and start scanning the interior of the mysterious box. Your breath gets caught in your throat when your computer blares a warning in flashing red

BOMB. DISPOSE IMMEDIATELY.

"Bucky. Do not move. You're holding a bomb. I can't diffuse it from here because there's no technology related to it. When I give you the signal, you will slowly get up and walk to the window that I will unlock and open. I'm sending in a small drone that will pick it up with a magnet. Do not make any sudden movements."

"Okay. I got it." Bucky says. You can see the stress on his face, his teeth gritting together in panic.

He gets to the window as the window clicks open. The drone you sent out whirs inside, hovers over the metal box and slowly picks it up magnetically, as to not touch any part of it abruptly. You control it to hover away and fly into the forest nearby.

"What was that? That was crazy..." Bucky says in disbelief.

"It's a drone, old man. I'll explain it to you later." you roll your eyes.

"Now, follow the escape plan and get out of there." you say.

You watch him climb out of the window and attach himself with a hook and rope. He starts to climb down the side of the building as you're warning him when to stop or continue whenever a guard passes by.

Bucky makes it to the bottom and hides in the bushes again. He successfully manages to get into the quinjet and fly off.

You breathe a sigh of relief when you see him taking off.

"What are you going to do with the bomb?" he asks.

"When you're far enough, you'll know."

Five minutes later, Bucky sees a massive explosion where the home was.

He shakes his head "Always one for the theatrics I see" he says while chuckling.

"I always prefer to finish with a bang." You hear Bucky groan at the awful pun.

"See you at the base." Bucky says and shuts the comms off.

You sit back and reflect on the mission. It was relatively successful except for the paper documents that are missing.

Bucky was acting so strangely... one second he's flirting with me and the next he's cold and distant.... Maybe he doesn't have feelings for me like I thought he did....

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

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[from-memphis-with-love]

Songbird - Ch. 3 - Dinner and a Show

Summary: Valerie and Elvis grow closer. Note: Okay, so there is controversy over whether Elvis actually ate peanut butter and bacon on sandwiches. Some people say he ate peanut butter, bacon, and banana sandwiches all the time. Others say it was just peanut butter and banana. And some (Ginger Alden) said he didn't eat them at all. You decide. Nevertheless, I wanted to include him eating peanut butter and bacon on sesame rolls here just as a fun little Elvis tidbit for the story. Suspend your disbelief, everyone! Word count: 7,800 Warnings: Infidelity; subtle references to sex

My eyes snapped open, heart pounding like a jackhammer. Remnants of last night's fever dream clung to my skin—searing touches, smoky whispers, the ghost of a kiss that almost met my lips. Holy mother of God, did that really happen?

I fumbled for my nightstand, nearly knocking over the glass of water I never got around to drinking. There it was. The ticket to his midnight show. Glossy and real and indisputable proof that I, Valerie Pedretti, professional nobody, had somehow captured the attention of the most famous man on the planet.

Equal parts giddy thrill and sheer pants-shitting terror. Good lord, what was I thinking, playing pattycake with Elvis freaking Presley? A very much married Elvis freaking Presley. I groaned into my pillow. I needed to call Deena pronto before having a complete meltdown.

The phone only rang twice before she picked up, voice fuzzy with sleep. "Val, hon, it's ass o'clock in the morning. This better be good—"

"Trust me, Dee, it is.” I took a deep breath, suddenly unsure of where to start. “I’m not coming home just yet. I’ve decided to extend my stay here for a little while.”

That woke her up. I could practically hear her sitting bolt upright in bed, her curiosity piqued. "Oh? You get a callback for that Sinatra gig?"

I hesitated, biting my lip. Fuck it, no use lying now. 

“I maybe kind of sort of accidentally seduced a celebrity last night."

Dead. Silence. Then an earth-shattering shriek. "ARE YOU SERIOUS?!"

I winced, holding the receiver at arm's length. "Yep. I'm in deep doo-doo, Dee."

"Deep doo-doo?! More like the motherlode! Valerie, you little minx! How'd you manage a thing like that? I want every lurid detail. Emphasis on lurid."

I laughed, flopping back against the pillows. Leave it to Deena to skip straight to the good stuff. "I can't give you all the details yet. But let's just say he's someone we've both heard of. I'll give you three clues. Very famous, very talented, and very, very handsome."

And very married. I of course neglected that little tidbit. If Deena knew, she’d blow her top. Understandably so.

She made a sound like a teakettle boiling over. "You're killing me! You can't just drop a bombshell like that and not give me a name! Landing a whale like that..." She paused, thinking. "Wait... is it Sinatra? Dean Martin? Joey Bishop? Oh honey, please don’t tell me it’s Liberace. You know he doesn't go for—"

"Sorry, Dee, my lips are sealed," I said, trying for coy and mysterious but probably missing the mark by a country mile. "Loose lips sink ships and all that jazz. And I don’t wanna jinx this. I can’t be too... eager."

Deena huffed out an exaggerated sigh. "Fine, keep your secrets, you incorrigible tease. But I'm telling you, Val, when an opportunity like this falls into your lap, you gotta strike while the iron's hot, if you know what I mean."

I couldn't help it, I burst out laughing. "Why Deena Jane Lovelace, are you trying to corrupt me? I feel like I should be clutching my pearls."

"I’m serious Val, you deserve to let loose and have some fun for once in your life. Live a little! Sow some wild oats! Ride that stallion till you break the saddle!"

"Deena!" I mock-gasped, giggling like a loon. "You're terrible!"

"You mean I'm right," she shot back, a smile in her voice. "I know you. You've got a bad habit of getting in your own way when it comes to men. Always overthinking, always holding back. Always tying yourself down to some jerk who isn’t good enough for you..."

I stopped laughing and chewed my lip. 

Deena's voice gentled. "Oh honey. Are you worried about that chump again? Because I will fly to Vegas and smack you upside the head myself. That boy is staler than last week's bread and you know it."

Oof. Andy. 

In the midst of all the Elvis-induced giddiness, I'd almost forgotten about my on-again-off-again boyfriend. Luckily, right now we happened to be more off-again, which meant I was technically free to do whatever this was that I was doing. 

Unbidden, an image of him popped into my head. Sweet, goofy, going-nowhere-fast Andy. If I squinted, his Arby's visor almost looked like a crown. Almost. Andy was... well, he was Andy. A burger-flipping, belch-ripping goofball who could always make me laugh, even when I wanted to strangle him. He was comfortable, familiar, uncomplicated. As exciting as a lukewarm bath.

She wasn't wrong. Ugh.

But Elvis… Elvis was pure electricity. He made me feel reckless, alive, like I could conquer the world in heels and a push-up bra. When a man like that looks at you like you're the only woman in the room, it does things to a girl. Things that don't involve overthinking or holding back.

Sensing my hesitation, Deena gentled her voice. "Look, I'm not saying you gotta marry the guy. But would it kill you to have a little fling? To let yourself get swept off your feet, even if it's just for a little while?"

I bit my lip, considering. Maybe Deena was right. Maybe it was time to stop being so buttoned-up and boring. To take a chance on something wild and wonderful, consequences be damned. I mean, when a choice between an Andy and an Elvis falls into your lap, you'd be six kinds of stupid not to go for the Elvis, right?

"Okay, okay, you've twisted my arm," I said at last, grinning so hard my cheeks hurt. "Operation Ride That Stallion is a go. But if I end up with saddle sores, I'm blaming you."

Deena's cackle was loud and wicked. "Atta girl! You just remember every gory detail so you can replay the highlight reel for me later. And Val?"

"Yeah, Dee?"

"Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do."

“But you’d do everything…”

“That’s my point!”

After promising to give her a full debriefing later, I hung up and started tearing through my suitcase. I needed to put together an outfit that wouldn't get me laughed out of the VIP section. What does Elvis like? I wondered as I pulled out everything I owned, frowning at my decidedly lacking duds. I'd have to go full Cinderella somehow—find some fairy godmother to zap me a gown, pronto.

But before I could do that, I had to at least shower. I spent the next few hours getting dolled up like my life depended on it. Which, considering who my "date" was with, it kinda did. I took my sweet time shaving, lotioning, spritzing myself with my best perfume. Just as I was about to return to the matter of what to wear, the doorbell rung.

I opened the door—only to pratfall over a fancy box from Suzy Creamcheese, the hottest boutique in town. What in the... 

I snatched it up. There was a card taped to the top, my name scrawled across it in scratchy, masculine handwriting. My eyes widened as I scanned the short, devastating message.

"Songbird, let's make beautiful music together. Wear this tonight. I'll be the one in black. Yours, Jon Burrows"

Jon Burrows. The alias he'd used last night. Hoo boy. Hands shaking, I lifted the lid off the box and promptly forgot how to breathe.

Inside was a dress that probably cost more than my entire life savings. Glimmering, body-skimming, hotter than a fresh sin. Draped in hand beading and fashioned of the finest silk imaginable. The kind of outfit that would've given Deena an aneurysm if she knew who sent it. In all honesty, Elvis had probably bought a million dresses just like it for a million and one little chippies. Suddenly, my stomach hurt. 

But I couldn’t help but notice, nestled right next to the dress, a pair of matching stilettos, the slim spike heels flashing like a dare. 

Eh, maybe I could take a Tums.

The dress slid over my curves like liquid sin, the slinky fabric doing favors for my figure I didn't even know were possible.

I twirled in front of the mirror, admiring the way the hem flirted with my thighs. With my chestnut curls artfully tousled and my eyes rimmed in black, I hardly recognized the minx staring back at me. If Elvis's jaw didn't hit the floor when he saw me in this getup, I'd eat my hat.

Still, a niggle of guilt squirmed in my gut as I dabbed on a pat of lip gloss. I couldn't quite shake the feeling that I was pulling a fast one on Deena. She'd blow her top if she knew who I was really running off to see. Not because of the fame, of course, but because of the ring on his finger.

But then again, maybe it was better to beg forgiveness than ask permission. Especially when permission involved a certain married megastar. What Deena didn't know wouldn't hurt her, right?

Right. Confidence bolstered, I sashayed out the door.

*

With a little more than an hour to kill before the show, I tottered down to the casino floor, the click-clack of my stilettos drawing more than a few appraising glances. 

Suddenly feeling lucky, I made a pit stop at the blackjack table. Nothing like a good old fashioned game of chance to settle the nerves. I was just doubling down when I noticed a guy giving me the hairy eyeball.

He looked to be in his fifties, paunchy and balding, with a pinky ring the size of a doorknob. A real high-roller type. And he was staring straight at me, a lewd grin stretching his thin lips.

"What's a pretty little thing like you doing all by her lonesome?"

I shifted uncomfortably, wishing I'd worn a tent instead of a curve-hugging sheath. "Just playing a little cards before the big show," I muttered, looking everywhere but his face.

"Ah, you must be one of those Elvis girls," he said, nodding knowingly. "Fresh meat. Figures."

My stomach lurched. I was just opening my mouth to tell him where he could stick his fresh meat when a firm hand clamped down on my shoulder.

"Darlin', there you are! Been lookin' all over for you."

I whipped around to find a tall, gangly older man in a ten-gallon hat grinning down at me. He had a kind, pleasantly weathered face, the type of face you instantly trusted.

"Play along, sugar," he whispered, giving my shoulder a gentle squeeze. "Looked like you could use a white knight."

I almost collapsed with relief. "Oh! Yes, of course. So sorry, I got a little turned around..." I let him steer me away from the blackjack table, offering a silent prayer of thanks for chivalrous cowboys.

"Chick, at your service," he said once we were out of earshot, doffing an imaginary cap. "I’m with the International. And unless I miss my guess, you must be Miss Valerie?"

My eyes widened. "How did you...?"

Chick chuckled, shaking his head. "Let's just say, ah, Mr. Burrows ain't exactly subtle when he's sweet on a girl. I was instructed to find you and bring you to his dressing room before the show. Reckon that dress is gonna give him the vapors but good."

A pleased flush crept up my neck. Elvis had specifically summoned for me? Maybe this was more than a passing fancy to him. Maybe I wasn't just the flavor of the week...

No. Stop that. Don't go getting attached, you ninny. He's married, remember?

Chick must've noticed my wilting expression, because he gave my elbow a fatherly pat. 

"Chin up, darlin'. I know this whole thing has you tied up in knots, but trust me—that boy thinks the sun rises and sets on your pretty little head. I ain't never seen him so gaga."

I managed a wobbly smile, even as my heart squeezed. Chick was sweet to say so, but he didn't know the half of it. Falling for Elvis was a one-way ticket to heartache city.

We snaked through a labyrinth of hallways and then reached the dressing room door. Chick gave a jaunty salute. "This is where I leave you. You take a deep breath and remember—if he’s foolish enough to let you slip through his fingers, I'll be waitin' in the wings to snatch you up my own self."

I giggled in spite of myself, some of the tension easing from my shoulders. "I'll keep that in mind. Thanks for the rescue, Chick."

"Anytime, darlin'." With a last wink, he disappeared into the bowels of the theater, leaving me to find my seat on shaky legs.

*

I took a deep breath, smoothed my dress, and knocked on the door, my heart hammering in my throat. This was it. The moment of truth.

The door swung open, and there he was. Elvis, looking surprisingly human in a plain white collared shirt and black slacks. His blue eyes crinkled at the corners as he smiled at me, a genuine, almost shy thing that made my insides flutter. He looked oddly nervous, a far cry from the swaggering sex god I'd expected. It was strangely endearing.

"Well, if it isn't my favorite good luck charm!" he said, ushering me inside with a flourish. "Get in here, darlin', before someone sees you and starts a scandal. I can see the headlines now: 'Elvis Presley Corrupts Young Songstress, Film at Eleven.'"

I laughed, feeling some of my nervousness melt away in the face of his playful warmth. "I think you're overestimating my ability to cause a scandal," I said, plopping down on the couch. "The most exciting thing that's ever happened to me was winning a pie-eating contest when I was twelve."

Elvis clutched his heart, staggering back in mock-amazement. "Be still my beating heart! A pie-eating champion in my very dressing room? I'm not worthy!"

He dropped to his knees in front of me, clasping my hands in his. "Tell me, o great and powerful pie queen, what's your secret? Inquiring minds want to know!"

His antics were so unexpected, so at odds with his slick public persona, that I found myself relaxing in spite of the surreality of the situation. This was just Elvis. Just a man. A ridiculously handsome, heart-stoppingly talented man, but a man nonetheless.

We plopped down on the couch, close but not quite touching. Elvis ran a hand through his hair, tousling it even further. I giggled, swatting at him. "Stop it, you goof! You're going to make me ruin my mascara from laughing too hard."

Elvis grinned, unrepentant. "Can't have that, can we? I need you looking your absolute best out there tonight. Gotta show all those other fellas what they're missing." His appraising gaze was warm an appreciative as it swept over me. “And you do look beautiful, by the way. That dress is a knockout on you.”

I ducked my head, feeling a pleased flush creep up my neck. "You shouldn’t have, Elvis. I’m not used to such nice things.” I looked down, tapping my feet in the maroon stilettos he gifted me. Suddenly, I found myself saying things out loud I didn’t want to admit. “When I put it on, I was hoping you’d like me in it."

"Well, mission accomplished." Elvis's smile turned rueful. "Can I let you in on a little secret, Valerie?" he said, glancing at me sidelong. At my nod, he blew out a breath. "I'm nervous as all get-out about this show tonight. Like, shakin' in my boots nervous."

“You get stage fright?”

"That isn’t even the half of it," Elvis barked out a laugh, but there was an undercurrent of tension in it. "Honey, I'm about ready to shake out of my skin. I haven't played a venue this big in years, and I keep thinking I'm going to get out there and just... forget everything. Forget how to sing, forget how to move, forget my own damn name."

My heart squeezed at the very real fear in his voice. I scooted closer. "You? Nervous? But you've played hundreds of shows for thousands of people. You're a pro!"

He chuckled, but it sounded a little forced. "Yeah, well, that was before. Haven't exactly been doing a lotta live performing lately. Feels like I'm starting from scratch."

His knee started bouncing, fingers drumming a restless beat on his thigh. "Truth is, I keep thinkin' I'm gonna get out there and just... blank. Disappoint everyone. Forget all the words, miss all my cues. Make a damn fool of myself in front of everyone." His gaze cut to me, suddenly vulnerable. "In front of you."

Oh. Oh, Elvis.

"Hey," I said softly, daring to lay my hand over his. "You are not going to make a fool of yourself. You know how I know?"

His fingers curled around mine, warm and strong. "How?"

“Because I’ve seen you dance. Even if you forget the words, just do that little hips-swivel thing and no one will care what's coming out of your mouth."

Elvis stared at me for a beat, his brow furrowed, mouth hanging open. Then, like a dam bursting, he threw his head back and guffawed, the sound rich and unrestrained.

"Lordy, woman!" he managed between wheezing breaths, clutching his stomach. "You really are somethin' else, you know that?"

I grinned, inordinately pleased with myself for cracking him up. "I’m serious! Those things are lethal weapons."

He snorted, shaking his head. "You're a mess, girl. An absolute mess." But his eyes were soft, affectionate.

“No, for real. You’ll do great,” I said, giving his knee a squeeze. "The second you step out there and see all those adoring faces, all those people who love you... it's gonna click. You're gonna remember exactly who you are and why you do this."

Elvis stared at me for a long moment, something raw and vulnerable flickering in his eyes. "You really believe that, don't you?" he said quietly. "You really think I've still got it."

"I know you've still got it," I said firmly. "You're going to go out there and give the performance of a lifetime, and I'm going to be right there in the front row, cheering you on."

Elvis's throat worked as he swallowed hard, his eyes suspiciously bright. "What did I ever do to deserve a gal like you in my corner?" he wondered, shaking his head. "I must've been a saint in a past life."

"Well, I don't know about sainthood, but you definitely rocked a mean pair of blue suede shoes," I teased, trying to lighten the mood.

It worked. Elvis threw his head back and laughed, the rich, honeyed sound wrapping around me like an embrace.

"Aw, baby, you're just too much!" He grinned at me, wide and boyish and utterly charming. "Stick with me, kid, and I'll show you a thing or two about rocking more than just shoes."

I felt my cheeks heat at the implicit promise in his words. "I'm going to hold you to that, Mr. Presley."

"You better, Miss Pedretti."

Elvis glanced at the clock and sighed, some of the laughter fading from his eyes. "Guess I better start getting into my glad rags. Show's about to start, and I've got a whole lot of hearts to break." 

I elbowed him playfully. He stood, hauling me up with him. "Walk me to the stage door?" he asked, a hint of vulnerability creeping back into his voice. "It'd mean a lot to have you there, sending me off."

I wanted to. With every fiber of my being, naturally. But good sense won out. “I don’t think it’s the best idea, Elvis. I’m sure there’ll be photographers and—”

“Yeah, you’re right,” Elvis sighed. “Good looking out.” There was a genuine sadness in his voice.

I squeezed his hand, holding his gaze. "I'll be with you every step of the way," I promised. "In spirit, if not in body."

Elvis lifted my hand to his mouth, grazing my knuckles with a kiss that sent sparks shooting up my arm. "Knowing that's going to make all the difference, honey. You'll be my guiding light out there."

I felt like I could happily drown in those bottomless blue eyes, spend the rest of my days mapping the planes and angles of that impossibly handsome face. Emboldened, I reached up to straighten his collar, letting my fingers linger on the warm, taut skin of his neck. Elvis growled, a low, throaty sound that reverberated through my bones. He tugged me closer, until I could feel the heat of him, smell the spicy, expensive scent of his cologne. "Y’know, I've half a mind to cancel this show and..."

My pulse kicked into overdrive, desire threading through me in hot, urgent pulses. It would be so easy to let him do just that, to surrender myself to the dark promise in his eyes, propriety and common sense be damned...

A sharp knock at the door shattered the charged silence, making me jump like a scared cat. Elvis muttered a curse, his fingers flexing on my hips.

"Thirty minutes to curtain, boss," a voice called through the door.

Elvis blew out a harsh breath, his eyes never leaving mine. "Guess that's my cue," he said ruefully. He leaned in, his lips grazing my ear. "To be continued. You can bet on that."

Then, with one last scorching look, he turned on his heel and strode out, leaving me weak-kneed and panting in his wake.

*

The house lights dimmed and the band struck up a familiar chord, and the audience went nuts. Shrieks and whistles drowned out the opening bars as a lone spotlight pierced the dark.

And there he was.

Elvis swaggered onstage in a black gi-style jumpsuit, his raven hair gleaming under the lights, guitar slung low around his chest. The crowd surged to its feet, but Elvis only had eyes for me. He caught my gaze and grinned, a private, knee-weakening thing that set every nerve ending aflame.

Sweet mercy. Maybe Chick hadn't been exaggerating after all.

The show was a dizzying carousel of hip-swiveling, high energy dancing, and electrifying eye contact. Elvis shimmied and crooned and thrust like his life depended on it, but every so often, he'd throw a smoldering glance my way, those bedroom eyes promising wicked, unspeakable things. The same eyes that looked over every inch of my body in his dressing room. 

During "Love Me Tender," he changed one of the lyrics ever so slightly, singing "for my songbird" instead of "for my darling." It was so subtle, I almost thought I'd imagined it. But then he caught my eye and winked, and I nearly combusted on the spot.

I spent the whole show riding a knife's edge of exhilaration and anxiety, every cell in my body attuned to Elvis's sly overtures. He was flirting with me, signaling me, making it clear I was his girl of the moment. And Lord help me, I ate it up like a starving dog.

In the back of my mind, a niggling voice of reason piped up, sounding suspiciously like Deena. "He does this with all the girls, dummy. You aren’t special. He's MARRIED, remember?"

I told the voice to can it. For one night, I just wanted to pretend this was real, that Elvis's heated promises were mine and mine alone. That maybe he really did in fact like my company. Was that so wrong?

By the time Elvis launched into “Can’t Help Falling in Love,” I was thoroughly hot and bothered, my skin humming with anticipation. Elvis took his bows, blowing kisses and reaching out to the sea of grasping hands. My own hands were stinging from clapping so hard, my face aching from grinning like a fool. He'd done it. He'd absolutely slayed. This was it. If he asked me to, I was going to go all the way. I was so keyed up, I barely noticed Joe until he materialized at my elbow, grinning like a fox in the henhouse.

Giddy and practically vibrating out of my skin, I let myself be ushered to Elvis’ suite by a cadre of burly security guards. It was already packed to the gills, a whirlwind of chatter and clinking glasses and backslapping laughter.

I recognized some of the faces from my earlier introduction to Elvis's inner circle—Red and Sonny and all the others from the Memphis Mafia, Colonel Parker looking like the cat who ate the canary, a gaggle of International execs in expensive suits. But there were plenty of new players too—starlets and hangers-on and a surprising number of little old ladies in their Sunday best, clutching Elvis albums to their heaving bosoms.

I felt a moment of panic, a minnow swimming with sharks, but then Jerry caught my eye across the room and waved me over with a wink.

"There she is!" he crowed, slinging an arm around my shoulders. "Didn't our boy knock 'em dead tonight?"

I grinned up at him, letting his easy camaraderie settle my nerves. "He sure did. I've never seen anything like it. I thought that one gal in the front row was gonna faint when he smiled at her."

"Aw, that ain't nothing!" Red chimed in, swiping a flute of champagne off a passing tray. "Back in '56, we had girls dropping like flies every time he so much as moved a finger. Quite a time to be alive, let me tell you!"

We laughed and joked and traded Elvis stories, the boys folding me into their ranks like I'd always been there. It was a heady feeling, being on the inside of something so exclusive, so legendary. Even if it was just for one night.

Speaking of the man himself, Elvis was holding court on the other side of the room, surrounded by a gaggle of suits and coiffed heads. He caught my eye over their shoulders and shot me a wink, his grin electric even from a distance.

I felt that zip of connection like a physical touch, and had to duck my head to hide my flush. Good grief, the man could spark a fire in my belly from clear across a crowded room. I was in trouble.

As if drawn by some invisible thread, I drifted towards him, skirting the edges of his adoring throng. I didn't want to interrupt, but I couldn't quite keep away either.

I was just debating the merits of "accidentally" bumping into him when I felt a gnarled hand clamp onto my wrist. I turned to find myself nose to nose with a diminutive old woman in a pink pillbox hat, her rheumy eyes squinting up at me.

"Priscilla, dear, is that you?" she cooed, her voice warbling with age. "Oh, honey, I just have to tell you how much I admire you! The way you've stood by your man all these years, through thick and thin... it's an inspiration to us all!"

My stomach plummeted. She thought I was Elvis's wife. His very real, very married wife.

"Oh, no, I'm not—" I stammered, my face heating. But she was already barreling on, clutching my hand in her paper-dry grip.

"You know, my Albert and I have been married for 53 years, and I like to think we've weathered our share of storms. But you and Elvis, bless your hearts, you've been through the wringer and back! The army, those awful Hollywood starlets, all those months on the road... it's a wonder you've made it work as well as you have!"

I opened my mouth, desperate to correct her, to distance myself from the comparison. But something in her earnest, careworn face stopped me. Who was I to shatter her illusions? What harm was there in letting her believe, just for a moment, that I was his dutiful wife?

So I simply smiled and patted her hand, murmuring something about the power of commitment. She beamed at me, misty-eyed, and tottered off to accost someone else with her marital wisdom.

I sagged against the wall, feeling vaguely guilty. Borrowing Priscilla's halo, even for a few minutes, left a sour taste in my mouth. What kind of person was I, playacting at being Elvis's devoted wife when the real deal was at home, probably wondering where her husband was and who he was with? And why wasn’t she here on opening night, anyway?

Suddenly, the dressing room felt too hot, too close. I needed air. I needed space. I needed...

"There you are! I've been looking all over for you, Valley cat."

I turned to find Elvis striding towards me, his face alight with post-show elation. His jacket was gone, his shirt half-unbuttoned, his hair damp with sweat. He looked utterly edible.

I pasted on a smile, trying to shake off my guilt like a dog shedding water. This was supposed to be a magical night, remember? My one chance to live like a star, to be Elvis's girl, if only in the shadows.

"Hey," I said, hoping my voice didn't betray my inner turmoil. "If it isn't the man of the hour himself. I'd ask how it feels to kill it, but something tells me you already know."

He laughed, low and throaty, and caught my hand in his. My pulse leapt at the casual intimacy of the gesture. "Careful with the compliments, hon, or my head won't fit through the door. Then where would we be?"

"Oh, I'm not worried," I shot back, finding my footing again. "If your head gets too big, I'll just deflate it with a few choice pinpricks. I'm handy like that."

"A real Jill of all trades, aren't ya?" he drawled, tugging me closer. I stumbled a bit, thrown by his nearness, the play of muscle beneath his shirt as he steadied me with hands on my hips.

His eyes danced with mischief and something hotter, headier. "Stick around long enough and maybe you'll get to show me just how handy you can be."

Oh. Oh my. Was he implying...

Before I could parse his words, he leaned in close, his lips a hairsbreadth from my ear. "The fellas are gonna clear out the stragglers. Why don't you hang back a while, keep me company?"

My pulse thudded heavy in my throat. "O-okay," I murmured, cursing my stammer. "If you're sure I won't be imposing..."

He pulled back just far enough to meet my eyes, something softening in his gaze. "Valerie, trust me. There is nowhere else I'd rather be than right here with you. Okay?"

I nodded shakily, thunderstruck by his sincerity. 

The next hour passed in a whirlwind of farewells and a few more furtive winks from Elvis as he played gracious host. The stragglers trickled out in twos and threes, some of the drunker ones being gently but firmly escorted by bulky security guards. Soon, it was just Elvis, the core crew, and me.

I perched on the arm of a velvet sofa, trying to blend into the scenery as the guys swapped tour stories and ribbed each other mercilessly. Elvis, sprawled in an adjacent chair with a tumbler of something amber and expensive, kept sneaking me these scorching sidelong glances that made me feel like I was the only girl in the room. Maybe the only girl in the world.

Eventually, Red gave a jaw-cracking yawn and hoisted himself up off the couch. "Welp, I'm about ready to hit the hay. These old bones ain't what they used to be." He shot Elvis a significant look. "Reckon y'all got things handled in here?"

Elvis's lips twitched, his eyes never leaving mine. "Yeah, man. I think we're good. Y'all head on to bed now. Me and Valerie here will just... clean up a bit."

There was a loaded pause, a crackle of unspoken communication between them. Then, with a chorus of goodnights and a few winks sent my way, the guys filed out.

And then there were two.

Elvis drained his glass and set it aside, unfolding from his chair like a jungle cat waking from a nap. All coiled grace and barely restrained power. I tracked his approach with my heart in my throat, my skin prickling with anticipation.

He stopped in front of me, close enough that I could smell his cologne, the warm musk of his skin beneath the sharper tang of sweat. Close enough to touch.

He held out a hand, eyes molten in the low light. "C'mon, darlin'. Let's go somewhere a little more private, hmm?"

I slid my hand into his, letting him tug me to my feet and into the circle of his arms. I had to tip my head back to meet his gaze, my hands braced on the solid wall of his chest.

"Private sounds perfect," I breathed. "Lead the way."

His grin flashed, sharp and white in the dimness. He laced his fingers through mine and led me through a side door I hadn't even noticed, into a wood-paneled hallway lined with identical doors.

We stopped in front of one. Elvis produced a key from his pocket and unlocked it, gesturing for me to precede him. I stepped inside and stopped short, blinking in the sudden brightness. It was a suite, as lushly appointed as any I'd seen—all plush carpets and gleaming dark wood and what looked suspiciously like a gilded ceiling.

In the center of the room, a table had been set with a crisp white cloth, gleaming silver, a bottle of champagne sweating gently in a gilded ice bucket. Two place settings. Candles.

My heart did a funny little flip. He'd planned this. Planned a private, romantic dinner for two. For us.

I turned to him, stunned. "Elvis, this is... I mean, you didn't have to go to all this trouble..."

He shrugged, looking almost bashful. "It wasn't any trouble. I just thought it'd be nice to have some time, just you and me. No screaming crowds, no prying eyes." His mouth quirked. "Plus, I figured you'd probably be starving after all that excitement. I know I am."

As if on cue, my stomach rumbled loudly. We both looked down at it, then at each other, and promptly burst out laughing.

"Well, I reckon that's my answer!" Elvis wheezed, clutching his side. "C'mon, let's feed that beast before it stages a revolt."

Still snickering, he pulled out my chair with a flourish. I sank into it, expecting him to ring for room service, or maybe a harried-looking assistant to come scurrying out with silver platters.

But no. To my shocked delight, Elvis ducked into the adjoining kitchenette and returned with... a greasy paper sack?

At my raised eyebrow, he grinned. "What, did you think it'd be all caviar and champagne? Nah, that ain't my style."

He upended the sack, sending a cascade of foil-wrapped burgers and fries skittering across the fine china. The commingled scents of grease and salt and ketchup wafted up to me, and my mouth instantly watered.

"I sent Sonny out for these," Elvis said, sliding into the seat across from me. "Knew I'd be craving some post-show grease. And I figured, what's better than sharing a little taste of home with my songbird?"

Songbird. Oh. There were those damned butterflies again.

"You figured right," I managed, plucking up a fry. "There's nothing better than burgers after midnight. Although..." I squinted at the foil peeking out from beneath a sesame bun. "Is that... peanut butter?"

He flashed me a guilty grin. "Ah, you caught me. Peanut butter and bacon. A little trick I picked up in the army. It sounds crazy, but trust me, it's a revelation."

We dug into our burgers, the silence broken only by appreciative moans and the rustling of wrappers. I had to admit, the combination of peanut butter and bacon was strangely appealing. Not that I'd ever tell Elvis that. His ego was healthy enough as it was.

"So," I said, dabbing a bit of ketchup from my chin. "You were in the army?"

Elvis paused mid-bite, his eyes widening slightly. He swallowed, setting his burger down. "You really didn’t know?"

“Well,” I said, chewing carefully. “I, uh. How do I say this? I never really followed you that closely. I mean, of course, I know your music and all. But the details of your life? I didn't want to pry.” 

He stared at me for a long moment, something unreadable flickering in his eyes. Then, slowly, a grin spread across his face.

"Hey, what’s so funny?”

“You mean to tell me I found the only girl around who doesn’t already know everything about me?”

I felt my cheeks heat. "What do you mean?"

He leaned back in his chair, studying me with a newfound intensity. "I mean, you're the first girl I've met in a long time who hasn't tried to impress me with how much she knows about me. Who hasn't been hanging on my every word, ready to agree with whatever I say just to get in my good graces."

I blinked, taken aback. "Really? That's... that's kind of sad, actually."

"Sad?" He cocked his head, curious. "How so?"

I waved a hand, trying to find the right words. "I just mean... you're a person. A real, flesh and blood man with thoughts and feelings and experiences that go beyond what the magazines print. It's sad that so few people seem to want to get to know that side of you. The real you." I paused, considering whether or not to continue. “It must be really weird meeting new people and feeling like they already know everything about you.”

“Well, what they think they know at least.” His expression softened, something warm and vulnerable stealing into his gaze. "You really mean that, don't you? You actually want to know me. Not Elvis the star, but just... Elvis."

"‘Course I do," I said softly. "You think I’d be eating burgers at 4 am with just anybody I meet? I promise you I am not that kind of girl,” I winked. 

As our appetites gave way to pleasant, sleepy fullness, our conversation turned to lighter things—favorite movies (his: The Way of All Flesh, mine: anything historical), craziest fan encounters (had to give it to Elvis on that one, though my tale of a particularly persistent flasher in Boise nearly made him snort soda out of his nose), best practical jokes played on unsuspecting bandmates (we were both particularly proud of our skills with a whoopee cushion).

We grinned at each other, the air between us crackling with something warm and bright. I felt like I could happily drown in those bottomless blue eyes, spend the rest of my days mapping the planes and angles of that impossibly handsome face.

But as the laughter died down and the food dwindled to crumbs, a tension crept into the air between us. An unspoken question, hovering like a ghost at the table.

I took a deep breath, steeling myself. "Elvis, I... I have to ask. And feel free to tell me to mind my own business, but... what about your wife?"

He stiffened, his jaw tightening. For a moment, I thought he might shut down, might retreat behind the impenetrable wall of his public persona.

But then he sighed, his shoulders slumping as if under a great weight. "Priscilla and I... it's complicated."

I bit my lip, my stomach knotting. "You still love her?"

A long, heavy beat of silence. Then, softly: "I'll always care for Priscilla. She's been a part of my life for a long time. But love?" He shook his head, his eyes distant. "No. I don't think I do. Not anymore."

My breath caught, hope and trepidation warring in my chest. "What happened?"

He scrubbed a hand over his face, looking suddenly exhausted. "We grew apart. Wanted different things. For a while now, we've been living separate lives, barely even speaking except when necessary. I think we both know it's over. That it has been for a long time."

I reached out, covering his hand with my own. "Elvis, I'm so sorry. That must be incredibly painful."

He turned his hand over, lacing his fingers through mine. "It was, at first. But now? Now it just feels... inevitable. Like we were always meant to end up here, no matter how hard we tried to make it work."

As the night wore on and the conversation lulled, I felt my eyelids growing heavy. A glance at the clock told me it was just before six in the morning. Stifling a yawn, I turned to Elvis. "I hate to say it, but I think I should be heading back to my room. It's been an amazing night."

Elvis reached over and took my hand, his eyes searching mine. "Will you come back tomorrow? I feel like we've barely scratched the surface. There's so much more I want to talk to you about."

I smiled, my heart fluttering at the thought of spending more time with him. "I'd love to."

"Great. How about—"

I held up a hand, stopping him mid-sentence. "Why don't you call me and invite me? Properly, I mean."

His lip curled in amusement, a mischievous glint in his eye. "Etiquette, huh? Alright, I'll play by your rules. I'll call you tomorrow night, say, around five-thirty? Room 2806, right?"

I nodded, unable to suppress my grin. "I'll be waiting."

"Lamar," Elvis called out. "Would you be so kind as to walk Valerie back to her room?"

With a final squeeze of my hand and a promise to call, Elvis bid me goodnight.

The next day seemed to drag on forever. I couldn't bring myself to leave my room, afraid I might miss his call if I stepped out even for a moment. As five-thirty approached, my nerves were wound tighter than a coiled spring. When the phone finally rang, I took a deep breath before picking up the receiver.

"Hello?" I answered, trying to sound nonchalant.

"Could I please speak with Valerie?" The unmistakable drawl sent my pulse racing.

I couldn't resist playing coy. "Who is this?"

"Elvis."

"Elvis who?"

There was a beat of silence, followed by a low chuckle. "You're a bonehead."

The playful exchange was just what I needed to ease my nerves. Elvis proceeded to explain the arrangements he'd made—a ticket for the late show and another dinner together afterward. I hung up the phone, my heart soaring with anticipation.

Maybe staying in Vegas a little while longer wasn't such a bad idea after all.

Taglist: @whositmcwhatsit  @ellie-24  @arrolyn1114 @missmaywemeetagain  @be-my-ally  @vintageshanny  @prompted-wordsmith @precious-little-scoundrel @peskybedtime @lookingforrainbows @austinbutlersgirl67@lala1267 @thatbanditqueen @dontcrydaddy @lovingdilfs @elvispresleygf @plasticfantasticl0ver @ab4eva @presleysweetheart @chasingwildflowers @elvispresleywife @uh-all-shook-up @xxquinnxx @edgeofrealitys-blog@velvetprvsley @woundmetender @avengen @richardslady121 @presleyhearted @kendralavon7 @18lkpeters@lookingforrainbows @elvisalltheway101 @sissylittlefeather @eliseinmemphis@tacozebra051 @thetaoofzoe @peskybedtime @shakerattlescroll @crash-and-cure @ccab @i-r-i-n-a-a @devilsflowerr@dirtyelvisfant4sy @elvislittleone @foreverdolly @getyourpresleyfix@gayforelvis @headfullofpresley @h0unds-of-h3ll @hipshakingkingcreole @p0lksaladannie @doll-elvis @tacozebra051 @richardslady121 @jaqueline19997 @myradiaz@livelaughelvis @deke-rivers-1957

[alixlives]

tickletober day 16- unusual spot

#augtickletober2023

ler!wilbur, lee!technoblade (DSMP CHARACTERS)

twinsduotwinsduotwinsduotwinsduotwinsduotwinsduotwinsduo TWINS DUO!!!!!!!

LEE TECHNO!!!!!!! /POS

AAAAAAHHHHHHHHHH

Technoblade wandered the caves of Pogtopia mindlessly. He was alone, and didn’t really know where anybody else was at.

Techno then heard footsteps from behind him. He turned around; nobody was there. He raised an eyebrow, but turned back to continue walking. He heard footsteps again, closer. Closer, closer, and closer.

He turned around. Nobody. He grew slightly concerned at this, turning and walking again. The footsteps returned. What the fuck is it?

Techno didn’t turn around this time, and then suddenly somebody poked him, right in the dead center of his back.

He jumped in surprise, and turned around to see Wilbur looking him in the eyes with a small smirk. One of mischief and playfulness.

“Wilbur.” Techno looked at Wilbur, his tone cold.

“Technoblade!” Wilbur chimed with a smile, much in contrast to Techno.

“Do you need something? Or is Tommy starting to rub off on you.” Wilbur didn’t quite understand what Techno meant, but then the realization hit that he was calling Wilbur annoying.

“What- No! Okay, whatever, give me your hand,” Wilbur reached to grab Techno’s wrist, but Techno pulled away and stepped back.

“What? Why do you want my h-“ “Just give me it!” Wilbur cut him off and grabbed his hand. He held it so that the palm was facing up. Techno looked very confused. Wilbur just smiled. That innocent, yet evil smile he had whenever he was up to something.

“What are yohohou- What!? Wilbuhur!” Techno brought his hand back, his other hand covering his mouth in an attempt to muffle his giggles. Wilbur had started to gently scribble his fingers over Techno’s palm.

“So he wasn’t lying! Oh, this is great!” Wilbur exclaimed, grabbing Techno’s hand and continuing to tickle his palm. He held on tighter, and had somehow managed to make it impossible for Techno to bring his hand away.

There was only one other person who knew Techno had ticklish hands. Tommy. The bastard, gremlin child had found out by complete accident. Techno was petting a cat, and it rubbed its face against the palm of his hand while Tommy was nearby. He noticed, and immediately questioned him.

“Tohommy told yohou!? I’m going to kihihill hihim! Stohop!” Techno smacked Wilbur’s wrist, but he cared enough to make sure it didn’t actually hurt.

“Stop? Why would I stop? This is adorable! You’ve got ticklish hands, man! Wait, I wonder if…” Wilbur trailed off as he held Techno’s hand closer to his face, and promptly blew a raspberry on the palm of his hand. Techno starting giggling a little louder. He wasn’t a very ticklish person, but he had a few spots. His hands seemed to be one.

“Stohohohop!” Techno pulled for his hand, he felt weak. Almost like he couldn’t escape this torture Wilbur had decided to give him for no apparent reason aside from, ‘he just felt like it.’

“Aww, has the big, strong, and scary Technoblade been defeated by a few tickles on his hand~? How cute!” Wilbur teased, finally letting go of Techno’s hand.

“I’m going to kill you. And Tommy.” Techno threatened, holding on to his own hand. “Tommy first, for telling you about this.”

Wilbur only giggled, then yelped as Techno suddenly grabbed him by his shirt.

“If you so much as speak a word to this to anybody, I will wreck you so badly you won’t be able to think straight for hours.” Techno looked Wilbur dead in the eyes, he seemed serious. Wilbur put up his hands in ‘surrender,’ a nervous smile on his face as Techno let him go. He promised to stay quiet about it, and with that Techno left.

Later Wilbur had found out that when Techno left, he had immediately gone to find (and wreck) Tommy.

[theemporium]

lestappen angst anon reporting for duty (don’t worry, fluffy resolution)

you’ve made your way over to the guest suite and plopped yourself on the couch in there to catch your breath, having pulled an old Prema sweatshirt and somebody’s old boxers out of the closet in this room that you all use as overflow, seeing as the closet in the main bedroom wasn’t made for three people, and start to slide out of the lingerie in favor of the pajamas

at the same time, you hear footsteps and a quiet voice singing “happy birthday to me… wait, mon doudou, don’t take that off yet, I haven’t gotten to enjoy it” as he scurries into the room, setting the cake with the candles that he had re-lit and the knife and the champagne and two flutes down on the coffee table and coming around to squat down in front of you when he hears you grumble “doesn’t matter, don’t want me like this anyway”

at which he scrambles to get in front of your face and tips your chin up with a finger to make you look him in the eye and says “I can’t speak for him, I don’t know what he wants or what the fuck he was thinking when he totally shut you out but I will always want you, mon indispensable, like this or however else you want to be and, so help me, I will leave him if that’s what I have to do to be with you, do you understand? It’s you and me, l’amour de ma vie -” when he’s interrupted by an “oh”

you both turn to see Max standing in the doorway, holding a third champagne flute and three plates and forks, looking like he wants the floor to open up and swallow him whole, and Charles just says “you heard all of that, didn’t you?” and when Max is still standing there shell-shocked, he immediately runs over to fuss over him and tell him that he didn’t mean it like that, see

and that’s your last straw, yelling at both of them “then what the fuck did you mean it like? you,” tipping your chin at Max, “planned his whole birthday without me included and kept both of us in the dark about why, and you,” nodding to Charles, “didn’t even notice when he did and then came home and told me how much you will always want me and then changed your tune the minute he walked in the room, not to mention that nobody said a word on my birthday and we’ve been so wrapped up in celebrating the two of you that it’s nearly been a month and nothing’s happened. you two really ought to be together without me, you fucking deserve each other”

you start to see a tear glisten on Max’s cheek and shoot him a glare and spit at him “you don’t get to cry, Maxie, you know what you did” and he just spills over, sobbing and gasping that Charles wants to leave him for you and you want to leave both of them and doesn’t anybody love him or want him or at least want to hold him right now

so you send the two of them back to the main bedroom by way of the kitchen to take all of the food and related items out and tell them not to come get you until you’re ready for them

you finish putting your pajamas on, grab a cup of cut up fruit and a bag of popcorn out of the kitchen since you missed dinner, and curl back up in the guest room bed to watch the SNL episode you missed over the weekend, laughing at Pete Davidson singing the I’m Just Ken song and squealing when Travis Kelce appears on screen

by the time the show’s over, it’s 3am and you’re exhausted, so when you fall asleep, you’re dead to the world

Max and Charles, meanwhile, find themselves on opposite ends of the California King the three of you usually share, Max a snotty mess and Charles angry at everyone but you, and eventually creep toward the center with Max carding his fingers through Charles’s hair and Charles laying out the exact elaborate plan he needs Max to help him execute to get both of them back in your good graces and prove that Max is serious about you both

Charles wakes up at the crack of dawn and leaves messages with the florist and your favorite bakery, telling them that he needs an entire field of hydrangeas and peonies and he knows those are spring flowers, he needs them now, cleaning the apartment top to bottom as he waits for them to be ready, waltzing back in the door at 10am with more flowers than he can comfortably hold and a giant strawberry shortcake with “the love of our lives” written on it (he had had to say it was for a baby’s first birthday, but no matter) to find Max executing his half of the plan perfectly

he could hear his boyfriend in the office on the phone with Hermès, saying “yes, this is Max Verstappen… yes, world champion Max Verstappen, I need to know what bags you can bring me in the next hour… well, preferably the blue crocodile Constance… you only have the Constance in croc in red? yes, that will be fine… yes, you can put it on this card… whatever it is, it’s fine… thank you for all of your help”

Charles slides in, shutting the door behind him and wrapping his arms around Max’s shoulders as he approaches the office chair from the back, pressing a kiss to his cheek and whispering “so you got one?” Max turns to look at him and breathes, “yeah, but they only had it in red…” Charles chuckles, “even better for my girl”

“our girl” Max corrects, “and they’re going to bring it in 45 minutes so start getting everything together”

When you wake up at 11:30 to streamers and balloons and flowers and cake and presents, it’s all you can do not to well up

both boys are clearly on a hair trigger with your tears and hold their breath until you say “I just love you both so much” and look Max in the eye and give him a watery smile and he’s on you like the two of you have magnets in your chests, telling you how much he loves you and how he’ll never ever do anything like that again

Charles hangs back for a second, letting the two of you have your moment before wrapping his arms around you both and mumbling “you’d better not”

babies🥹

she’s much better than me because I’d have ignored them for much longer BUT IM GLAD THEY ARE HAPPY

[kusagrasskusa]

Hi there! so i have read your request rules and i have no idea if i can find if they are opened or closed but if they’re closed, please do not take this!

Raiden finding his S/O dead after a argument. Not a suicide, just a murder. I’m about to go all out on these details. 😭

So S/O and Raiden got into a argument about his safety and what not and they separate for a few hours (not break up, just avoiding.) He noticed how the house they shared got a bit to quiet. He went to go and find her, but found her dead on the living room floor dead with a tranquilizer (filled with poison) in her neck. I know my request is crappy and probably makes no sense whats so ever. 💔 But if this is not crappy to you, you can write it! But if your request are closed, you don’t have to. Also, no happy endings for NOBODY. 😍

But thats all for my request. Ty for your time!

Ohhh I like this!! Thank you so much for your request! I love it whenever people give me a scenario with details, it makes it easier for me to write and not worry about if the requester will like it 😂❤️ But fr though, happy endings are no bueno… life just isn’t gonna be a happy place, especially if you’re named Y/N 😈 or in this case, Raiden too

Also I found this sexy piece of art from u/all-men-die on r/MortalKombat!! All credit goes to them! And also, Raiden has hair in this hehe.. sorry not sorry 😋❤️

And I’ll update my Request Rules after I post this!

Raiden finding S/O dead after an arguement

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☁︎ ⋆｡˚ ☁︎ ˚｡⋆｡˚☽˚｡⋆ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☁︎ ⋆｡˚ ☁︎ ˚｡⋆｡˚☽˚｡⋆

Shinnok had been given a fate worse than death and his blood may fall to Raiden’s hands. He was no longer the thunder god Y/N had married- no, he was someone else entirely. Y/N was a human but it didn’t take a genius to learn of Shinnok’s amulets’ doing to her husband as suddenly his mercy had disappeared overnight a while ago. Ever since then it had been a weight on her shoulders; this was a man who killed those who he believed to be a threat to his ideologies unlike the man who had once advocated to protect Earthrealm at all costs, and murder was only needed in certain cases. A genocide against all his foes was something Y/N couldn’t sleep at night to the thought of. Who had her husband became?

Y/N was biting her lip in thought, leaning over her kitchen counter. Her eyes were blank as she daydreamed, and her focus only broke whenever her husband had suddenly walked in through the front door. It was a little house she lived in near the sky temple that was provided by her dear husband, though now, it almost felt like a prison. “Raiden?” She called out instinctively as she turned her head towards the front door. The lightning god himself and stepped in, removing his conical sedge hat and sighing.

“Hello, dear,” he replied with a tired voice. Y/N was easily the mother type whenever it came towards caring for her husband, and simply hearing that string of tiredness made her anxious. She quickly made her way over to her husband as his hair dropped down and a little tangled, making her frown. “I have something important to discuss with you.” Y/N wrapped her arms around her husband with a feeling of dread in her stomach, but nodded softly.

She knew her husband had something bad to say, but never this.

“Raiden, how could you!” Y/N seethed, her eyebrows furrowed and her eyes wide with rage. “Why in the heavens would you be so irrational? Do you ever think about yourself in those moments?”

Raiden’s emotionless stare was enough to tell her he wasn’t at all feeling guilty for this actions. “Shinnok was the greatest threat to Earthrealm. I would have thought you to be more reasonable,” he replied in a serious tone, “had I not put an end to him, you may never know what evils he would bestow upon Earthrealm again.”

Sickening; Y/N felt like vomiting just then. Raiden had come home from torturing Shinnok and then beheading him. Yes, the Elder God was a cruel creature however how could Raiden act on such torture? Whether one agrees that Shinnok deserved it or not must understand the one who enacted on this was someone who would have never done something like this just a little bit before now. “This isn’t you, Raiden,” she hissed, standing up from the couch. “Will you subject anyone who defies you to such torture? A fate worst than death? Had you ever considered the effect of your actions? Had you ever considered the effects on you?”

Zzzz-CRACK the lightning went, appearing from no where. Y/N gasped and fell from her seat. Raiden stood up off of the couch, towering over her. “Y/N, I don’t suppose you are defending him, are you?” Lightening trailed off of his body in a threatening manner, which she would have thought attractive if she wasn’t at the victim of it. Her moment of fear quickly passed as she shot up off the ground. The lightning quickly disappeared as if quickly realized his mistake.

“Raiden, until you are thinking more clearly, I want you away from me. It’s for your own safety, and it seems I must think of my own when I’m around you as well.”

The look in his eyes were obvious that he was sorry. Though the words didn’t come out since he knew the way his wife would get- she wouldn’t accept it until she feels better. He nodded his head and began to walk down the hall and into their shared bedroom, leaving Y/N to look out at him as he walked. She felt a pain in her chest when she watched him leave but… what just happened? Who was that man who had just threatened her just then? It couldn’t have been the same god she fell in love with.

She let out a little gasp as she spun around, having heard the door open. Did Raiden walk around her without her noticing and tried to leave?

No, he had been in the bedroom for at least a few minutes at this point. He laid in their bed, hands on his head, as he processed what was going on. “Dearest, I hope you’ll understand one day,” he mumbled, “but please forgive me. I had stepped out of line and made you feel threatened.” He spoke as if he were praying to her for her forgiveness which he sort of was. Why, she’s the (now) immortal wife of the lightning god. She’s close enough, is she not?

And to a mortal praying to their god, him praying to his dearest wife is something just as dear if not more. He promised eternity’s worth of protection and love yet he had almost broken the first promise. How could he make up for it? As he sensed the amulet’s energy off of him, he sighed, “perhaps it has darkening my judgement… No, this is it. I shall no longer let this evil cloud the better of my mind.” He seethed through his teeth as guilt began to wallow inside it. Dammit, what had he done?

However, the deafening silence as minutes and minutes to half an hour has passed made it a little hard to think. “That is it,” he decided, getting up out of bed, “no more fighting until they call me to it.” He smiled softly, combing his hair with his fingers as he walked out of the bedroom. Actually, during one of his thought processes, he decided to change out of his regular gear and put on a special outfit his dear Y/N made for him during one of his trips. It was soft, warm and had obviously had the perfect loving touch of his wife and so he felt like it would perhaps appease her to see him have it. As he stepped out into the living room, he looked around- no one.

“Y/N?” He called out softly, furrowing his eyebrows. He made his way around the couch, calling out, “Dear, I know I have upset you, but-… Y/N?” He voice was the most unstable anyone had ever heard of the pronounce lord, however whenever he saw his wife laying on her back, wide eyed, and mouth gapped on the floor, he was more distraught than he had ever been in his entire immortal life.

“Y/N!!!” Running to her side, he lifted her head up as his breathing hitched and grew unstable. He felt like he was being choked. Beneath her hair was a tranquilizer filled with a foggy substance, and he yanked out and threw it across the room. His fingers ran over her pulse as he checked, praying- praying the fucking gods above for the sanctity of this situation. “Y/N please! How could i have let this happen?” He cried upon no pulse. He urgently picked her up in his arms and teleported to the SS base where Johnny and Cassie were per usual- and upon his arrival, they were quick to hear of his presence.

Y/N had quickly been taken into their poison control and as Raiden stood by her side and learned there was nothing they could do to being her back, it was so clear to see how the color had drained off of him.

“That is all?” He asked distaughtly, his eyes not even being able to focus on anything. “There is nothing to be done?”

Raiden obviously knew the answers. He had been around and seen it happen for millions of years but this mortal- this woman- was something that had exceeded all his expirences and knowledge together. He never knew he could love someone as much as this woman who now lay lifeless with a bag over her. This is what he remembers warning his brother about before entering Earthrealm. He remembers warning him of the dangers of falling in love or getting too close. Yet in the end, he had tasted the feeling love brings and had felt incredible loss his mind was not capable of comprehending.

Now, he no longer had a reason to care for those who inflict pain on Earthrealm and their inhabitants.

And with how he let his wife die, he no longer cares for himself either.

[constellationcrowned]

THE CROWN OF LEAVES starter sentences Featuring prompts from chapters 1 and 2 (all routes), change pronouns and etc as necessary.

"I don’t often ask you to do something for me but today I’ll make an exception…"

"According to yours and _____’s words, constellations/_______ are important, probably even the main part of me."

"Next time you’ve a mind to lie to me, come up with a better story, you dolt."

"You can trust in my senses, they’re a touch sharper than yours."

"I don’t want to be entertained. I just want to find a silent corner in this house."

"You’re not supposed to be constantly on guard with the ones you love. Being able to trust is a very valuable quality."

"If something unexplainable happens, the spirits are to blame. And if blaming the spirits is not enough, you can also break loose on some clueless fool."

"Let’s smooth out our unfortunate acquaintance with the rules of decencies and introduce ourselves to each other."

"Do you think I wouldn't come to my ______'s rescue? I’d be the first to run if I only knew where to."

"That’s enough, _____. It’s obvious that you spoiled him/her as a child. S/he’s stupid and lazy because you didn’t teach him/her the value of hard work."

"Okay, that’s enough. I don't believe in destiny or predetermination. I change my life myself!"

"_____ never do anything for others, only for themselves."

"You won't deny yourself the pleasure of challenging and refuting me, will you?"

"Don't forget, you still need to protect me!"

"I’m talkin’ about your brains, alright? As if somebody’s gone and pried open your skull and given it a good bit mix-up with a spoon."

"I’m serious. For him/her, there is no friend more important and closer than you."

"It looks a bit… Well I don’t want to be rude… but… boring."

"I just want to understand why you are making this such a big and terrible secret."

"If you absolutely have to write down your name, write it all wrong. In that case, an evil spirit won’t be able to possess you."

"Nobody will forgive you if you screw up."

"Why so grumpy? I just wanted to see my friend."

"I’m only asking you to stay in touch, that’s all. And should you run into trouble — well, I'll always come to the rescue, if I can."

"I asked you for at least a day---a single day!---not to touch those blasted constellations/_____."

"As your faithful friend, I prefer to ignore your failures."

"Won’t you tell me what’s wrong with the little one? S/he’s extremely silent."

"If one learned how to hide all of them did. The dead helped the living to avoid their mistakes."

"As far as I know, amnesia's not contagious."

"Some challenges need to be addressed head-on. I have an axe, for example…"

"Some _____ are eternally exiled for violating the rules. What if _____ is one of them?"

"Not everyone knows what they want from life. And not everyone has as much energy as you do to look for the best place for themselves."

"Honestly, I've had enough of aggressive communication for today."

"Can I see them? The _____, I mean."

"I'm not eager to end up like my ______! And neither do I want to be a substitute----no matter for who or what!"

"That's right. If you've chosen your way, then follow it."

"You're going to die until none of those who are willing to save you are left---and they're already few."

"_____, bark."

"Mark my words, I’ll ensure your punishment is long and exciting."

"Even such a touching confession won’t make me become your partner/_____."

"There’s no time to be tired, I need to pack my things."

"Now I know exactly what kind of monster under the bed I was afraid of as a child. It was you!"

"I don't know about _____, but ______ definitely loved you very much."

"In what way can one become a murderer? In the most direct one."

"And here I thought you were just foolin’ with me, but you really, truly don’t understand a bloody thing."

"I have no choice and you know that! I don't want to run into _____ again!"

"A part of me is in _____. Moreover, it saved his/her life."

"This is my real home! All jesting aside, if you lived here for awhile, you’d realize it’s not nearly as bad as it seems."

"A long tail is useful for plowing the ground, but that’s it."

"I knew there was something dangerous about you, something otherworldly. I should have followed my hunch."

"So you don’t remember _____, do you?"

"If s/he acts like this towards friends, then how does s/he act towards enemies? I don’t even want to know."

"You mentioned something about your destiny---we're going to test it now."

"That’s just how our culture has turned out. It’s full of mysticism, even if you don’t like it."

"I… I remembered I had another wound, aside from the one _____ gave me."

"Remember this once and for all: you don’t play these stupid games with me."

"Glad you care about me and my health! How sweet of you!"

"I’m not staying with him/her. Leave it to him/her to kill me in the middle of nowhere."

"Sometimes, as it happens, I see a human and my stomach growls."

"I'm not insulting anyone---I'm telling the truth in the most straightforward way."

"I’d like you to understand this: I don’t hate you."

"Who is “everybody”? Does anyone else other than you want to see me?"

"I shan’t be messing about with your head anymore. Seems to me it’s suffered quite enough."

"You’re a friend of our birthday boy/girl, aren’t you?"

"If you want to get rid of insomnia, I advise you to stop drinking coffee first."

"If the ______ doesn't get banished, people will start dying."

"Grow up and stop believing in fairy tales."

"I work with what I see. You looked like you were about to throw up."

"______ would happily go to any lengths to save you."

"I remember everything very clearly! Why won't you believe me? Why would I lie?"

"Did s/he really get so mad at me for not coming to his/her party?"

"Just admit it. Admit that you’re bursting with envy."

"It’s okay, you can keep it. It suits you---with all the stars and everything."

"How do I know it's not poisoned?"

"Two of my friends are dead! Why?! Who allowed them to die?"

"Your mind isn’t all that good and well, and you know why? You broke my restriction."

"Now I can’t even take it away…...only kill it."

"You really hear them? And just what are they going on about?"

"It's difficult to trust someone who's been constantly stalling from the very beginning instead of speaking frankly, isn't it?"

"You think I enjoy yattering about myself? Not even close."

"Good, be afraid. A horrendous monster with giant sharp teeth dwells in that house/_____---it will gobble you up and not even choke."

"It occurred to me that I could ask about your childhood and get to know you better."

"Keep in mind though, I can replace mercy with rage at any time."

"There’s no such thing as “______”. It sounds like some beaten fantasy book trope."

"Maybe s/he's gone totally nuts and started suspecting everyone around of some evil deed."

"Such a delicate ringing… a pleasant sound….it must be that one day it will grow louder."

"And what’d it get you? Nothing. Not a bloody, damned thing."

"You know what happens to mortals if they don’t leave _____ when....when they should?"

"Was it too hard to smile, huh?"

"I haven’t done anything wrong! I have nothing to do with it!"

"Your head has finally got rid of _____ and made a space for me. I’m glad it did. Now I’m going to be your best friend/____."

"I used to be very friendly---perhaps much friendlier than I am now."

"I’m not exactly what you’d call the finest at maths, but that’s already two conditions, and not just one."

"You managed to defend yourself. On your own."

"If you're the savior of the _____, then why did _____ kill you?"

"That title isn’t ringing any bells? Oh, okay, I knew I should have chosen something else."

"Just tell me this: do you hear the stars?"

"I know better. I’ve been around him/her longer than you."

"There’s no wound….but s/he stabbed at me right here."

"Obsession is passion! And what’s so bad about passion?"

"I think you give too much importance to fairy tales. Although, this isn’t surprising of you."

"Let me tell you who you reminded me of, to make this awkward situation even more awkward."

"They dragged you away, and I was afraid you were done for. Are you okay?"

"I’ve lived my entire life by the ______’s side, I know all about them!"

"Both were so determined, so desperate. A perfect example of self-sacrifice."

"Trust is the very thing I don’t demand. I just suggest helping each other. Wouldn't it be the best decision to stick together?"

"____’s right smart at telling stories. I’m even a touch envious, really---s/he’s always got the best of ideas, meanwhile my brain is all full of spiders and dirt."

"What’s the point of saving the ______ if there will be no one left to dwell in it?"

"I… hate him/her....but….what would I hate him/her for?"

"Carry your ladies/______ in your arms, and they won’t run away from you."

"I'd hate to find your bare corpse somewhere under a birch."

"Well, why so silent? We haven’t seen each other in ages! You could have said “hello”, at least."

"If you forgot about _____, just let it stay like that. And this is my best advice."

"Did I get into a scrap and make a scene?"

"You’re as good as a tool for them, and they’ll indulge you for as long as you are useful to them."

"_____.....Why on earth am I thinking of her/him? I don’t know….but s/he’s driving me wild right now."

"They judge me… hate me…"

"You're a despicable son of a bitch used to being fussed over by everyone."

"This world---whatever world it is---is empty, and there’s nobody in it except me."

"This creature has a soft spot for eyes/____, because it has none of its own."

"Oh, my little friend. You will always be safe."

"S/he is generally incapable of holding long meaningful conversations."

"Am I the only one lucky enough to see you both from a slightly different perspective?"

"This is my secret, and you are the only one privy to it. Well, happy now?"

"I only hope that you’ll always tell me about your adventures."

"It is difficult to get along with someone who is light-minded about deadly danger."

"Part of it is true. You may decide yourself which part exactly."

"You are our bright star, and you need to take to the skies."

"Oh, _____, where did your blind trust in _____ go? Weren’t you the one insisting just half an hour ago that s/he only wants the best for me? Naive."

"Do you think I can just go back to my regular routine without thinking about any of this?"

"Yes, I condone his/her shortcomings. There is not much good in me myself to force _____ to change for me. I love him/her the way s/he is."

"S/he was my companion, s/he means a lot to me! There were supposed to be the two of us….but you let ______ die!"

"I’m your partner, me! I’m the one you must trust!"

"How about a good ol’ goodbye hug?"

"What am I going to do without them? Who's going to help me? I can't deal with it on my own. I need them by my side!"

"The order is disturbed. If _____ is gone, what's the point of _____? If ______ is gone, what's the point of me?"

"Who brought me back to life if it wasn't _____? And what for if nothing will ever be the same again?"

[misguidedasgardian]

The Lifeaters (II.8)

VIII. Guilty

MASTERLIST

Chapter Summary: All eyes turn to you

Pairings: Draco Malfoy x Fem!Reader (platonic)

Warnings: Cursing, magical objects, Mugglephobia, classism, charms and curses, people getting petrified, might miss some warnings 

Wordcount: 2,2 k

Notes: Just get swimming… I’m thinking about making edits in tiktok, that’s how far I’ve come with this story… Considering I very much dislike video editing

It was bad

You knew because Snape had personally escorted you back to the common room after the canceled game, he looked exceptionally gloomy, extremely serious, more than normal. He didn’t even have to raise his voice, he only stood there, in the middle of the common room, and it was mere seconds before everyone quieted down so he could tell you lot about what he needed to. 

“Because of the recent events, the school had thought it prudent to impose strict rules, in benefit of your safety”, said Professor Snape. He took a parchment with official stationary and read it outloud, “All students will return to their house common room by six o’clock every evening. All students will be escorted to each lesson by a teacher. No exceptions. Quidditch is canceled for the remaining of the school year, as other activities in big groups, and after six o’clock”, he said and then he lowered the parchment

Many hands were raised, many had questions, everyone started speaking, you, mainly, and Draco, whining about Quidditch being canceled, you only got to play one game on your very first year as a chaser with your very new broom, and next year you were going to get challenged again, and you didn’t think it was fair, wouldn’t it be good to be in a place with a lot of people? more witnesses? they wouldn’t dare attacking someone in a place filled with people, wouldn’t they?

“If the attacks don’t stop, you will go home, I advise you… if you know something, come forwards, to me”, he said slowly

“Would they close the school?”, someone asked

“Indeed”, he said slowly, he then searched among the crowd, “head boy, head girl, prefects follow me”, and then he dramatically turned and left, followed by the top students in your house, as it was already around 5.30, you couldn’t leave the room again and you were content with finishing the day early. The common room get cleared except for your closest friends, to your surprise, even Flint stayed around 

“They wouldn’t close the school”, muttered Matthew, and for the very first time, you thought you saw a hint of fear in those dark eyes of his, “would they?”

“No if they find the wacko who is doing this”, muttered Theo

“Nobody is dead yet”, Draco said like he was disappointed, “people will be un-petrified”

“Yet! you said it”, mocked Flint, “it’s just a matter of time” 

“But this… person or thing… Why is petrifying people if the objective is to kill them?”, asked Pansy, “I don’t understand”

“We don’t even know what is this monster, perhaps it can only petrified people”

“Some monster”, mocked Matthew

“What is going to happen when they close Hogwarts?”, asked Daphne

“If…”, corrected Draco 

“If they close Hogwarts, they will send me to Beauxbatons”, you whispered, Draco looked at you

“I’ll be send to Dumstrang”, he said back

“Are they going to have space for all of us?”, asked Pansy 

“How are you going to get in?”, mocked Matthew

“My family is one of the founders, and… they have had a space for me in it since I was born, basically”, you muttered, “You can’t imagine my grandfather’s face when they told him I was coming here instead”

“So you can hook us all up”, said Theo with a soft smile

“They won’t close this thing”, muttered Draco

“How do you know?”, you asked, he only winked at you.

“My father is one of the governors of the school, he won’t let this place shut down, although, he can totally blame it on Dumbledore, get him sacked!”, he mocked

“Maybe he can get a Slytherin as headmaster”, muttered Daphne with a soft smile

“GUYS!”, Blaise entered the room almost running, “It’s Granger!”

“WHAT?”, Draco asked, a smile showing up on his lips 

“She is the one that has been petrified!”, he said, “she is the last victim, alongside a Prefect from Ravenclaw”. You looked at Draco who looked like Christmas had come again. 

Blaise knew everything about everyone, maybe it was because of his calm demeanor, he was silent, and sneaky, he knew a lot of things, if something was going on in the castle, he knew at least to some extent what was going on.

“Two more”

“They are definitely closing this joint”

Nothing could spoil Draco’s mood, or Matthew’s or Vince’s or Greg’s 

You had to admit it was empowering to walk at his side, through the corridors, everyone would move out of your way and look at you fearfully

At the both of you

Rumor was spreading that Potter could not possibly be the heir of Slytherin, since Granger was one of his best friends, and also, because no one in the Slytherin house had been attacked….

Well, except for you

Even though you weren't really attacked and nobody found out so… maybe that is why you weren’t attacked, because you were a pure-blooded Slytherin

Were you?

And a couple of weeks later, Draco was jumping with joy

You asked him of course what was that about, but he just said that he had a surprise for all of you, and tomorrow they were going to figure out what.

It was a long night, you were very curious, and you couldn’t help but feel a bit sad that Draco wouldn’t share things anymore

He had caught on that you were not as enthusiastic about this whole situation like he was, in fact, you were clearly scared and concerned, unlike all of them Slytherins 

He would reassure you constantly, that you were not in danger and everything was going to pass, but you really didn’t see how that was going to be possible/ Draco told you to… “have faith?” What was that supposed to mean?

It was a long night, you could barely sleep, or not at all. 

And the very next day, Draco was jumping with joy through breakfast, but in the teacher’s high table, no one was smiling, nobody. You could feel it in the air, that there was something bad going on, besides the attacks

And then, when everyone was sitting on the table… Draco told the lot of you, the entire table, what had transpired last night 

Uncle Lucius had come to Hogwarts, late at night, as a governor, in representation of the other governors, and asked for Dumbledore to step away from the school, for an indefinite time, he had almost been sacked, he was in the very steps to being so. 

Also, Hagrid…

Hagrid was a suspect of opening the chamber of secrets

Nobody knew why, but he was sent to Azkaban. They must have known something terrible

“That oaf isn’t the heir of Slytherin!”, mocked Malfoy, as you were at the end of the day, in the common room drinking pumpkin juice and hanging out

“Maybe he did it by accident”, you suggested, “you know how much he loves animals, maybe one of those animals broke loose and…”

“Not even he could be that thick”, muttered Theodore

Granger petrified, Hagrid sacked, Dumbledore suspended… It was a good week for Slytherin in everyone’s book. 

You realized that Draco had become more… sensitive… when you were near, as you didn't like it when he spoke like that, but you still could hear him express his disappointment that the monster hadn't “finish their job”

Classes were now almost boring because Granger wasn’t there incessantly raising her hand to answer whatever question the professor was asking

Potter and Weasley looked like Christmas hadn't come at all

So you guessed that Potter wasn’t the heir of Slytherin, he couldn't possibly have petrified Granger, right? Because nobody believed that Hagrid was the one who did all of this, well, nothing but uncle Lucius’ friend Cornelius Fudge

Why him though? if they send him to Azkaban they must have a good reason to. 

You could barely focus on class, thinking about what was going on, it was even harder with Draco, in potions, as he couldn’t stop boasting about what had happened with Dunbledore and Hagrid 

“I always knew it was going to be my father to get rid of Dumbledore”, he whispered to Vince and Greg, not caring of who was listening, that by now, it was the entire class, “I told you he thinks he is the worst headmaster the school’s ever had. Maybe we’ll get a decent Headmaster now. Someone who won’t want the Chamber of secrets closed. McGonagall won’t last long, she is only feeling in”

You knew he was boasting because Potter and Weasley were there, he had told you these things personally, thanks to the chamber and said monster, you pure-blooded witches and wizards were on top of the world.

That is when Professor Snape walked by. 

“Sir”, Draco called for him, “Sir, why don’t you apply for the headmaster’s job?”

He was the head professor of your House, and even though he was very strict and severe, you admired him and his mastery in potions

But him as a headmaster looked like something out of a nightmare, like he would turn this into some version of Azkaban, you didn’t imagine events. Quidditch games and fun activities or feast with him on the helm of these huge ship

“Now now Malfoy”, muttered professor Snape, he was almost smiling, “professor Dumbledore had only been suspended by the governors, I dare say he’ll be back with us soon enough”

“Yeah right”, boasted Draco, “I expect you’d have Father’s vote, sir, if you wanted to apply for the job, I’ll tell father you’re the best teacher here, sir”

Again… a Hogwarts run by Snape sounded like a nightmare, but again you didn’t know anyone else to take the mantle, Dumbledore might be Gryffindor coded but… at least he was cheerful, you believed that Mandrakes would take the lead in a more entertaining way if given the opportunity, instead of professor Mcgonaggal

But Snape smiled, actually smirked… and you started day-dreaming about Headmaster Snape, perhaps it wouldn’t be that bad. 

“I’m quite surprised the Mudbloods haven’t all packed their bags by now”, he went on, “bet you five galleons the next one dues. Pity it isn’t Granger”

You trembled at the mere thought, trying to concentrate on the potion in front of you 

The very next weeks went by a blur

A certain monotony had spread in Hogwarts, nobody was supposed to be outside, or alone, you moved in groups, you were even escorted to the bathroom

You didn’t dare to tell anyone what you thought you saw in the bathroom at Christmas, you had nothing of value to tell anyway, you had convinced yourself you imagined it 

Were you spared because of your blood status? Because you were a Basili…

And then… you knew, you gasped loudly and everyone looked at you, surprised

“What?”, Draco asked, raising his head from the book on astrology he was studying, but you shook your head, coming back to your senses.

“I just remember something”, you muttered, “homework”

“Yeah, we still have to study for those exams!”, said Draco, closing the heavy book 

Did you cracked it? could it be?

Next weeks went by so slowly, there was no fun, only study and learning, which before it was fine, but now it isn't. Even Astronomy had canceled its late nights, and now it was in daytime, which made no sense, because you couldn’t see the stars or anything really.

So you only depended on the books and illustrations 

Professor Sprout was very cheery, apparently Mandrakes were sneaking into each other's pots so that meant they were almost ready to be chopped up and…

You still thought that was insanity 

Draco however, seemed to enjoy the chaos and terror

And you couldn’t help but… liking it too

Nobody had died, right? and this feeling about needing to stick together with your friends, and having to be in the common room with the rest of your house, hanging out, you felt guilty of how much you were enjoying it

Even Marcus, and Adrian stick around you and Draco, didn't leave you because the season was abruptly cut short, instead choosing to even talk to you!

You were over the moon

The Gryffindors though seemed to be in an awful mood, when you heard Lockheart that it was all going to be alright, people will be un-petrified and the guilty part had been caught

Potter however, you had heard him defend Hagrid publicly, saying that there was no way that he was the one who opened the chamber of secrets

You didn’t believe it either

He didn’t struck you as a bad person, in fact, you liked him -a thing you couldn’t admit to Draco even if you were being tortured-, from your experience with him in the forbidden forest… he was kinda nice, he had talked you out of your fears about the headless troll, and he had somewhat protected you in there.

But if he was taken to Azkaban, it meant he was guilty, nobody was taken to Azkaban with mere suspicions, they had to have something big against him.

You didn't know what to think anymore