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sagesolsticewrites · 2 years

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“i can’t keep kissing strangers, pretending they’re you.” | Austin!Elvis x fem!reader

12 years ago, Elvis chose his career over you. What happens when he shows up at your door asking for a second chance?

a/n: this is entirely based on a dialogue prompt I saw from @twelvegods: “I can’t keep kissing strangers, pretending they’re you.” apparently it was a really good prompt because it inspired all 8,735 words of this lol. I I hope you all enjoy reading it as much as I loved writing it <3 Thank you all again so so so much for 500 followers!!

Word count: 8.7k

Warnings: a couple swear words, lots of angst in the first half, Y/N has trust issues oops, I think that's it? As always, please let me know if I missed anything!

Please like/rb if you enjoyed! 🤍

“I’m gonna marry you someday.”

That’s what Elvis Presley had said to you when he was just 20 years old and his career was starting to take off, thanks in large part (as Elvis said) to the Colonel. And you, being the young girl in love that you were, believed him.

What a fool you were.

You managed to stay together for another year before the Colonel, his claws digging into Elvis’s heart and soul to bleed all the green he could out of him, managed to convince him that appearing single would be what was best for his career— he had to let all those screaming girls believe they had a chance with him, after all.

“Baby please,” Elvis pleaded, “this is for my career. I promise it won’t be for long. We’ll get back together, you’ll see.”

You shook your head, “No, Elvis. I’m not gonna sit around waiting for you like some damsel in distress. If you want me, keep me. But otherwise…”

You paused, waiting for him to say something. Begging, pleading, praying he would say something, that you had managed to change his mind.

When he said nothing, you exploded.

You had screamed and cried, and he had screamed and cried, and you had taken your things that had made their way into his room in Graceland and stormed out of his life for good, only pausing to give him one final sincere “I love you” before you walked out the door.

The last image you had of him (that wasn’t on a tv screen or poster) was of him standing in the foyer in Graceland, tears streaming down his face, refusing to chase after you.

You hoped that time would eventually heal your wounded heart, but apparently whoever said time heals all wounds was a fucking idiot because it was now just over a decade later and you were still as in love with Elvis Presley as you had been when you were one of the only girls in the world who knew his name.

He, evidently, didn’t feel the same.

That much was clear, at least, based on the way he was still overly flirtatious with his audience in his shows, not to mention the rumors about relationships with his movie co-stars. In his shows, before he went off to Germany, he had taken to stepping down into the audience and kissing practically every woman in the room. That alone cleared any remaining doubts from your mind that he still thought about you in any capacity, despite that little voice in the back of your head that still held out some futile, desperate hope.

You’re about to curl up on the couch with some tea and your copy of Anne of Green Gables — exactly what you need on a rainy day like today — when someone knocks on your door.

“You expecting anyone, Y/N?” your friend Annie calls from the hall. You had been living with her for about 5 years down in Louisiana, after the memories in Memphis had become too much, and you loved it.

“Nope,” You call back, wondering who on earth would be knocking on doors in this weather. “If it’s one of those door-to-door salesmen, slam it in his face again.” You suggest with a laugh.

“Will do,” comes her reply, and you can hear the smile in her voice.

You turn you attention back to your book as the door opens, and nearly spill your tea all over yourself as you hear a sultry drawl you hadn’t heard in person in over a decade.

“Hi Annie… is Y/N here?”

There’s a moment of silence where you’re sure Annie is as stunned as you are, then:

“Maybe,” she replies curtly, “What do ya want?”

Annie knew the whole story of you and Elvis, and she had sworn that she’d never let you get hurt like that ever again.

“Please, Annie, I just wanna talk to her.”

“And why should I let you? You’ve got a lotta nerve comin’ here after what you did—“

You’re not sure what prompts you to set your book and mug down and sigh “Annie, just let him in,” but you’re just as surprised as Annie is that you did.

She reluctantly steps aside to let him in, eyeing him warily the entire time.

Your eyes drink him in; this is the first time you’re seeing him in person in over 12 years, and your mind automatically catalogs the differences since you last saw him. He’s tanned, with a few more freckles, a result of the California sun, no doubt, and tinted glasses hide his eyes. His burgundy suit is soaked, and his hair, which was no doubt carefully styled before, now flops onto his forehead, dripping into his eyes.

He takes off his sunglasses, revealing tired blue eyes. From the way his eyes track along your body, he was drinking you in the same way you had done him.

There’s a beat of silence, then his eyes finally meet yours.

“Hi,” he says softly.

You maintain a straight face, unwilling to be taken in so easily.

“What do you want?” you ask, your voice cold. You want nothing more than to rush into his arms, but you remind yourself: he chose his career over you, and never looked back.

“I fired the Colonel,” he blurts, after several moments of trying to figure out what to say.

“About time,” you snort, dropping your serious demeanor for a split second, “but what does that have to do with me?”

“I made a mistake, Y/N. A lotta mistakes, really, but letting you go was the biggest one I ever made in my life. I missed you so, so much, and I—“

You cut him off, “Elvis, cut the shit. You made it very clear you moved on from me.”

“Y/N, I never stopped thinkin’ about you, I promise.”

“Sure, and was that before or after you kissed every girl in the audience at the end of every damn show?”

“Y/N, I—“ he starts, frustrated, then takes a deep breath. He starts again, calmer, softer, “I know how that looks. But I… I can’t keep kissing strangers, pretending they’re you.” He looks earnestly into your eyes.

You feel your cracked heart melt just a little at his words, and yet…

“I don’t…” you sigh, “I don’t believe you. You put your career before me over a decade ago, and I tried to move on, but I couldn’t when I was seeing your face and hearing your voice everywhere, and it hurt like hell. And now you walk back in here, tell me you just made a mistake, and… what? Expect me to take you back just like that?”

“Please, Y/N,” he says, an echo of his plea back when he broke your heart for the first time, “I know I messed up bad, but… it’s you. It’s always been you, with those girls in the audience, even with Ann-Margret… I was always thinkin’ about you. And I’m willin’ to do whatever I have to to fix this. Anything. I mean it.”

And you can see the conviction in his eyes, like he’s that little boy again who believed he was Captain Marvel Jr. and could fly his family out of poverty to the Rock of Eternity. You know in your bones that he’d buy you the moon if it meant he could love you again.

But you’d made the mistake of believing his promises before.

“Elvis, I don’t know if I can trust you. How do I know you won’t drop me when your next manager thinks that’d be ‘what’s best for your career’?”

He winces as you throw the Colonel’s words from all those years ago back in his face. “I know I ruined any kind of trust you had in me that day, and I can’t tell you enough how goddamn sorry I am, Y/N. But I’m not askin’ for you to forgive me right now, I just want a chance to try and fix this. That’s all, I swear.”

He waits as you process his words, practically holding his breath as you think of how to reply.

“I’ll think about it,” you say softly.

He nods. “That’s all I’m askin’ for, sw— Y/N,” he fumbles to avoid using the old pet name for you.

“I think you should go now,” you say, your voice cold again to hide how the almost-pet name brought a storm of feelings rushing back..

“Right, um..” he fumbles around in his pocket, producing a scrap of paper with a phone number scrawled on it, “Gimme a call, if you want? I’ve gotta head back to Memphis in a couple days, that’ll probably be the easiest way to reach me if you, uh, decide anything.”

“Okay,” you nod, glancing at it quickly before stuffing it in your pocket. The number was for Graceland’s house phone; a number you’d never forgotten for a second, not that you’d be telling Elvis that.

“Well, um… bye Y/N, Annie,” he nods as he moves past your roommate towards the door. He pauses, hesitating for a moment before turning back to you. “You look good, Y/N,” he says softly before heading back out into the downpour.

The “you, too” you whisper in reply is lost in the sound of rain hitting the pavement outside.

The enormity of everything that had just transpired suddenly hits you and you fall back onto the couch, tears welling up in your eyes.

Annie rushes over, concerned. You look up as she fusses over you.

“Was that… did that actually just happen?”

Annie nods, “Yeah, it did, honey. I can scarcely believe it myself.”

“Did I do the right thing?” You wring your hands, suddenly second-guessing every decision you made during the interaction with Elvis.

“I know I’ve always said that I’d punch him in his smug face if he ever showed up here after what he did to you,” Annie says, “But I see the way you look at him when he shows up on the TV, and that ain’t the look of someone who’s just angry at an ex. You’re still in love with him, honey, I know it, and I feel like a fresh start is what both of you need. I don’t mean to overstep,” she drawls, “But if I can give you some advice: just start over as friends. Don’t jump back into a relationship right away. Try to make it organic. A clean slate.”

“A clean slate,” you echo, processing her words.

You mull over what to do for a few days, worst and best-case scenarios swirling around your brain, and eventually dial Graceland. Your foot taps anxiously as you lean against the wall by the phone, listening to it ring.

“Hullo?” A raspy voice comes over the receiver.

“Hi, Elvis,” you say, trying your best to sound casual, “It’s, uh, it’s Y/N.”

“Oh, hey,” he stammers, sounding less like the confident King of Rock and Roll superstar and more like the shy little kid you’d grown up with, “Uh, how are you?”

“I’m alright.” You reply, “Look, I did some thinking about what you said and, well… I’ve got a couple questions before I decide anything.”

“Sure, yeah, what is it?”

“Well, first of all… why now?”

“Huh?”

You sigh, “It’s been over 10 years, Elvis. What made you come back now? What made you fire the Colonel after all this time?”

“Well, to be perfectly honest, I wasn’t very happy with the movies the Colonel was signing me up for. And then he planned this whole silly special for NBC…” he sighs, “I’ve been lost ever since I lost Mama— before that, even, when I lost—“ he cuts himself off with an awkward cough, “uh, anyway; he wasn’t helping. And I finally realized that he didn’t really care what I wanted to do. It was all about profit for him,” he says quietly. He goes on to explain hiring Binder and Bones to help with the special, to “find himself” again, and the realization he’d had that he hadn’t truly felt like himself since he’d left you.

“Hm,” is your only response at first, trying to shove down the warmth growing in your chest. “Well, um… thank you for telling me.”

“You’re welcome. I want you to know, Y/N… you can trust me. I know I ruined that back then, but I’d really like a chance to try and rebuild it with you if I can.”

“I think I’d like that, too.” You say after a moment of silence. “Look, Elvis, I… I don’t think it would be a good idea, if we’re gonna do this, to pick up right where we left off. We need a… a clean slate. So what if we started over as friends?” You fidget with the phone cord as you await his reply.

There are several moments of silence, and you're wondering if something happened with the call before his raspy drawl comes over the phone once more.

“I’d love to be your friend again, Y/N.”

A wave of relief floods your body, and you smile. You think for a moment before speaking again, saying hesitantly, “I’m coming up to visit for Mama’s birthday next weekend, and… maybe we could see each other then? That would be a ‘friend’ thing to do, right?”

“Yeah, I’d… I’d really like that.”

“Great, well,” you worry your bottom lip between your teeth, “I’ll just give you a call when I’m back home and we can figure everything out then?”

“Whatever works for you is fine with me,” he assures you, “I’m lookin’ forward to it.”

“Me, too,” you say softly, allowing a tiny bit of the warmth you felt earlier to creep back. “I’ll see you next weekend, then.”

“See you then,” he says and with a click, the phone is back to humming a dial tone.

You’re buzzing with anticipation for the next week, not only excited to see your family but also to see Elvis.

“Y/N!” Your mother rushes out as you pull into the driveway of your family’s Memphis home, “My baby’s home!”

“Happy birthday, Mama,” you smile as she rushes up to give you a hug, squeezing you tight.

“Thank you, darlin’. Come inside, honey, come in!” she insists, grabbing your suitcase from you despite your protests.

“Honey!” she calls to your father as she leads you into your childhood home, “Look who’s finally decided to come for a visit!”

“Mama, I was just here for Easter,” you remind her as you head to the living room to greet your father. “Hi Daddy,” you smile as he pulls you in for a hug.

“Good to see you, sweetheart,” he says, “Louisiana treatin’ you well?”

You nod, “Mhm. Everyone’s real nice, and Annie’s always lookin’ out for me.”

You fill your parents in on life in Louisiana, and in return they (your mother, mostly) regale you with all the Memphis gossip you’ve missed. Apparently the young couple next door had a baby recently, another young couple in town just got married, and oh yes, Elvis came back fr—

“Mary Ann, you know I don’t like talkin’ about that boy!” your father exclaims, cutting your mother off.

“Well, I don’t know what you want me to do, Walter,” your mother retorts, “It’s not as if we can pretend he doesn’t exist, not when he’s such a big part of this town…”

As you listen to your parents bicker, you decide that now might as well be as good a time as any to bring up your new friendship.

“Actually, Mama,” you interrupt their bickering, “I’m gonna try and meet up with Elvis while I’m in town this weekend…”

Your father’s expression flickers between confusion and anger at your words, while your mother’s morphs into one of delight.

“Oh honey, that’s wonderful!” She exclaims, “Though I admit, I thought you’d’ve at least called to tell us you got back together—“

“Mama!” You cut her off, heat flooding your face, “We’re not back together, I promise,” you add with a glance over to your father. “He showed up at our place last week, we had a talk, and we’re gonna try to be friends again.”

“Well I’m glad to see the two of you are startin’ over, honey,” your mother says with a smile

“I still don’t trust that boy,” your father grumbles. “Just… be careful, alright?”

You nod, “Of course, you know I always am, Daddy.”

”When were you two planning on meeting up?” your mother asks.

You shrug, “We haven’t figured out the details yet. I was gonna call him today to sort everything out.”

”Well you should invite him over for dinner while you’re in town.” your mother suggests, with just a hint of a mischievous sparkle in her eye, ignoring your father’s clear alarm at the suggestion.

You groan. “Mama, no, he really doesn’t need to come for dinner—“

”Y/N L/N, inviting a friend over for dinner is a polite thing to do,” your mother scolds, “and in this house we are always…?”

“Polite and respectful,” you mumble, repeating the words that had been drilled into you in childhood.

She nods, satisfied. ”It’s settled then. You two will have your little meetup and then he can come over for dinner that night, or the next if it suits him.”

”Yes, Mama,” you say, resigned. “I’ll go call him now.”

You make your way over to the kitchen, dialing the number you’ve had memorized for over 12 years.

“Hello?” The same raspy voice comes over the receiver.

”Hey, it’s um, it’s me. Y/N.”

”Oh, hey. Um, how are ya?”

”I’m alright. I’m back in town now, and Mama’s bein’… well, Mama, so you can imagine.” you say with a soft laugh.

”Oh, I can imagine,” he agrees, and you can hear the smile in his voice. “How was the drive up?”

The two of you make small talk for a bit, slowly easing back into being a part of each other’s lives, and eventually you remember the reason you called. “Oh, yeah, by the way; I was calling to see if there was a day or time that worked for you as far as meeting up this weekend?”

”Oh, yeah.” You can hear some rustling on his end, and you assume he’s checking his schedule. “I’m actually free this afternoon around 1 if that works? Or tomorrow?”

You weren’t prepared to see him quite so soon, but you suppose now is better than putting it off until tomorrow. “This afternoon is perfect. You still like that diner on Beale Street, right?”

He hums an affirmative, and you smile, “Great, I’ll meet you there at 1, then.”

”I’ll see you then,” and the line clicks back to a dial tone.

You head back to the living room, entering to see your parents doing a wonderfully poor job of pretending as though they weren’t listening to your conversation. You roll your eyes.

”I assume you already heard, but Elvis and I are meeting for lunch at 1, just as friends, Mama,” you say pointedly, noting the beam on your mother’s face. “I’ll ask him about dinner then.”

Your father harrumphs, but mainly keeps silent, a firm frown on his face.

”That’s wonderful, honey,” your mother beams, “You’ve gotta get goin’ pretty soon then, huh?”

“Huh?” You glance over at the clock on the mantle and sure enough, it’s already 15 past noon and you still haven’t changed out of the outfit you wore for the 6-hour drive up to Memphis. You grab your suitcase and race to make yourself presentable, managing to change into a dress that seems nice enough for a lunch outing (but not too fancy), fix your windswept hair, and reapply your makeup in a cool 30 minutes before racing out the door.

Before you can make it out to the porch, though, your father stops you, calling your name as you’re about to step out the door. You turn, “Yes, Daddy?”

He has a solemn look on his face. “Just… be careful, darlin’. You know me, I hold grudges like no one else, and I admit I still haven’t forgiven him for what he did to you all those years ago. If you let him in, and he hurts you again somehow I… I don’t know what I’d do.”

You step back into the room and envelop him in a hug. “Thank you for looking out for me, Daddy. I’ll be careful, I promise. I’m not the same girl I was when I met him.” You add with a sad smile.

He squeezes your hand comfortingly, “I know you’ll be smart. If he does anything, you come right to me and I’ll sort him out, alright?” You nod and, satisfied, he kindly shoos you out the door with a soft “Go on, have fun.”

You pull up to the diner to find that Elvis is already there, if the deep purple Cadillac parked nearby is any indication.

He waves from a booth near the back as you enter, his bodyguards seated at a table nearby. You slide into the seat across from him, pushing down the butterflies that threaten to stir. It might’ve been a bad idea to choose the place you went on your first date, you realize belatedly, but too late now.

“How are you?” he asks with a casual smile.

“Pretty good,” you reply, “My parents have been updating me on all the Memphis gossip I’ve missed since I was away, very exciting stuff,” you say sarcastically. “Mama says hi, by the way.”

“Tell her I say hi back,” he grins.

“Will do. Uh, how are you?” You say, trying to fall back into the rhythm of talking to him.

“I’m alright. There’s this big thing I’m gonna be workin’ on soon, I’m pretty excited for it.”

“Oh, big thing?” You ask, your interest piqued.

“It’s a…” he pauses, looking around, “no one really knows about it yet, so you gotta promise not to tell anyone, alright?”

You nod, and he continues, leaning in to whisper, “You remember that special I told you about, the one that Steve and Bones are helpin’ me with? It’s gonna be a TV special for NBC. A Christmas show, kinda.”

“Kinda?”

“Well, it’ll have a couple of Christmas songs, but I really want it to be about finding myself again. Gettin’ back to the real Elvis.”

“Sounds exciting,” you reply, a genuine smile coming across your face at how excited he seems.

A starstruck waitress comes to take your order, and the conversation continues.

“So,” Elvis says, “how are you doin’ in Louisiana?”

“I actually really like it there,” you reply, smiling. “Annie’s great, obviously, and I found a job at a bookstore that I really love, things are goin’ pretty well. I do have the occasional grumpy customer, but that’s just how it is.” You finish with a shrug.

“Grumpy customer? Sounds like you’ve got some stories to tell,” he says, sounding genuinely interested, and you can’t help but launch into the story of a man who was sure that Stranger in a Strange Land was in the nonfiction section no matter how many times you tried to lead him over to science fiction.

You finally fall back into a rhythm of friendly conversation, trading stories for over an hour before you finally bring up what your mother had asked.

“Oh by the way,” you say, sipping your milkshake, “Mama wanted me to invite you to dinner tomorrow night.”

Elvis nearly chokes on the fry he’s just taken a bite of. “Sorry, what?”

“I told my parents that we were meeting up and she was adamant that I at the very least invite you to come over for dinner tomorrow— you know how she is about politeness—“ you explain, “but I promise, you don’t have to come if you don’t want to. I completely understand, I’d be more than happy to make up an excuse for you.”

“And refuse an invitation from Mrs. L/N? It’s like you want her to kill me,” he jokes. “I’d be more than happy to come,” he says, in a more sincere tone. “Besides, friends come over for dinner right?”

“Of course,” you say, trying to reassure yourself as much as him, “and Mama’s very excited to see you, so be prepared for that.”

“I always am,” he replies with a smile.

You arrange for him to come over at 7 the next night, and the rest of lunch goes smoothly until the check arrives, which starts off a round of bickering between the two of you about who should pay.

“Please let me get this, I want this to be a start to making it up to you,” Elvis argues.

“I appreciate it but I’m perfectly capable of paying for lunch, thank you very much,” you retort, and this goes on for several minutes before the two of you eventually agree to split the check.

“It was good to see you, Y/N,” Elvis says as you exit the diner, his bodyguards dutifully on alert as they follow you out.

“You, too.” You say. “I…” I didn’t realize just how much I missed you, is what you want to say, but instead, you go with “I had a good time.”

His face lights up as if those 5 little words were all he needed to brighten his day. He steps towards the Cadillac, throwing a friendly wave to you as he calls “See you tomorrow!”

You wave back, and you don’t realize how happy you are until your cheeks start to ache from smiling on the drive home.

The next day, your mother is practically frantic, bustling around the house making sure everything is perfect for when Elvis gets here.

“Mama, it’s not like it’s the first time he’s ever been here! And we’re just friends, please try to remember that.”

“Alright, alright, I know, honey. I just think it’s nice that you two are spending time together again, that’s—“

The doorbell rings, and your mother jumps into action, plucking microscopic bits of lint from your dress before hurrying to the door and opening it with a polite smile.

Elvis stands on your porch, bearing a polite smile and a bouquet of lilacs. “Hello, Mrs. L/N.”

“Hello, Elvis!” Your mother beams, “It’s wonderful to see you again. And you brought Y/N flowers, how sweet!” She looks pointedly at you.

Elvis lets out a nervous laugh as he steps into the house, “Actually, Mrs. L/N, these are for you. A birthday gift.” He holds out the bouquet to her with a shy smile, looking remarkably like the shy boy he had been back in ‘51 when you first became friends.

“That’s very kind of you, thank you dear. Wasn’t that kind of him, Walter?”

“Very kind,” your father grumbles in a tone that makes it seem as though Elvis had brought a pile of mud as a gift. He nods a greeting, “Hello, Elvis. California’s treatin’ you well, I hear.”

“Uh, yes, sir, it is. Thank you.” he replies.

When your father doesn’t respond, Elvis turns his attention to you. “Hi, Y/N.”

“Hi,” you reply, resisting the urge to fuss with your dress.

The awkward silence that follows is broken as your mother ushers everyone to the dining room, arranged so she and your father are at the heads of the table while you and Elvis are sitting across from one another.

The meal begins, and the conversation that follows is strained but polite, with your mother eagerly asking questions about life in California and Hollywood and Elvis answering modestly then turning the conversation back to your family, remaining the picture of a Southern gentleman. The conversation remains polite apart from your father’s not-so-subtle grumbling about Elvis running off the California, and just when you think it can’t get any worse, he decides to bring up the rumors of Elvis’s womanizing.

“So, Elvis,” your father says casually, though his eyes remain calculating, “what’s all this I hear about you and… what’s that actress’s name, Ann-Margret? Or have you moved on to someone new by now?”

You feel your face flush, and you’re sure the mortification shows on your face as you hiss for your father to stop, please.

“Oh well sir, that’s really all just the tabloids tryin’ to get their stuff to sell, there’s no truth to that at all, I promise. Ann-Margret is a good friend of mine now, though.” Elvis answers politely, unfazed as your mother quietly scolds your father.

“Walter, quit it, you’re scarin’ the boy!”

“Well good, he should be scared after what he did to my little girl!”

“Dad!” you exclaim, mortified, “We talked about this! We’re friends now, you promised you’d be polite!”

“No, it’s alright, Y/N,” Elvis assures you, briefly breaking eye contact with your father to glance over at you, “He’s just lookin’ out for you like any father would, and I respect you for that, sir.”

Your father grunts a reply, and the conversation picks up again, still polite but even more strained than before.

Elvis remains as polite as ever, even offering to take care of the dishes — “Oh I can get those plates for ya, don’t you worry Mrs. L/N” — and despite your determination for a clean slate, your mind betrays you, reminding you of how shy and overly polite he was the first few times he was over for dinner, especially after the two of you first got together. Sure, he’s gotten a little more confident, which you’ll admit is kind of attractive, but— NO.

You firmly cut off that train of thought, no matter how badly that little voice in the back of your head (the one that practically melted at the sight of him at your door with a bouquet, reminiscent of your first date) wants to keep on track. Just friends, clean slate, you remind yourself.

After the dishes are done, your mother prepares coffee for everyone and the four of you head to the living room. At one point, Elvis gets up to get a refill, and your father follows him.

Your father approaches Elvis once it’s clear that neither you nor your mother will be getting up, and corners him.

“Now Elvis, I’m gonna try to be polite, because my daughter’s told me you two are tryin’ to be friends and I respect her wishes, but I don’t trust you after what you did to her. And if I get even a hint that you’re playin’ with her feelings, well… I’m afraid that won’t end well for ya, son.”

Elvis nods quickly, “Sir I promise you, I have no intentions of playing with your daughter’s feelings. She’s very dear to me, and I swear I’d do anything to make sure she’s happy.” He says, conviction clear in his eyes.

Your father eyes Elvis for several long moments and, apparently satisfied, returns to the living room with more coffee for you and your mother.

Elvis takes a breath to compose himself — he’s forgotten how scary your father could be when he wanted to — and exits the kitchen, re-entering as you’re laughing at some comment your mother made.

You turn as he enters with a wide smile on your face, and he’s suddenly slammed back to a time where you looked at him like that every time he entered a room— when you looked at him as though he’d hung the moon and stars just for you.

Fighting the urge to rush over and kiss you senseless — that’s not something a friend would do, he reminds himself — he moves to sit in the armchair across from you, turning his attention to whatever neighbor your mother is gossiping about tonight.

The night eventually winds to a close and Elvis thanks your parents profusely for “a wonderful meal and even better company.”

Your mother waves off the compliment modestly, “Oh it was nothin’ darling. We’ll be glad to have you back anytime. Y/N, why don’t you walk our guest out while we take care of these last few things?” she says, gesturing to the coffee mugs still sitting out.

Elvis gives one last wave to your parents, wishing them well, before stepping out to the porch with you.

“Well, my parents loved you,” you tease as the two of you make your way to the pink Cadillac looking more than slightly out of place in your modest gravel driveway.

He lets out a shy laugh, “They haven’t changed a bit, that’s for sure. Your daddy’s still as protective as ever.” His tone softens as he continues, “It was nice seein’ them again. ‘Specially your mama. She’s always been better to me than I deserve.”

Acting on impulse, you lean over and squeeze his hand as you remember his own mama isn’t waiting for him at home anymore. “You’re welcome over anytime. I mean it.”

“Thank you,” he replies in a near whisper. Your hand stays clasped with his, the warmth of him tempting you closer, and his gaze drifts slowly down to your lips before the two of you snap back to yourselves and create a respectable two feet of distance between you.

“Uh, anyway,” you attempt to continue the conversation, refusing to acknowledge that moment of… whatever that was, “Are you gonna be here for a while longer?”

He shakes his head, “I’m actually gonna be leaving for California again tomorrow.” he says almost apologetically, adding with a nod to the house, “But I’ll still be able to call ya for a bit, right?”

A frown crosses your face as you remember: “I’m actually headin’ back to Louisiana tomorrow. But,” you brighten, “I can give you my number for down there if you want?”

“I’d love that,” Elvis smiles.

You rummage around in your pockets for anything you can scribble on, producing some long-forgotten shopping list and a small pen. You scrawl your phone number down and hand it to him, determinedly not noticing the sparks you feel as your fingers brush.

“I’ll call ya every night,” he says as he stuffs it in his pocket, “I’ll need ya to keep me updated on all the Louisiana gossip, hm?”

A sad smile crosses your face at the memory of the last time he’d made a promise like that. Despite all your talk of a clean slate, you can’t help but remind him, “Let’s not make promises you can’t keep, Elvis.”

You give him one last wave, wish him goodnight, and walk back inside, his pleas of “What? No, Y/N, this ain’t gonna be like that!” falling on deaf ears.

You put on a brave face for your parents the next day, joking about what a coincidence it was that both you and Elvis happened to be leaving town on the same day, but behind closed doors, you’re unable to block the memories of the last time he had promised he’d call you every night: when he went along with the Colonel on Hank Snow’s tour.

1955

“I’ll be back in time for prom, darlin’, I promise,” Elvis reassures you over the phone. “I’ll bring you a corsage, we’ll have a great time.”

“Okay,” you reply, “I’m sorry, I know I must sound silly, but I’m just really lookin’ forward to going with you.”

“That’s not silly,” he assures you with a soft laugh, “I’m lookin’ forward to it, t—“ he cuts off, and you can barely make out what sounds like a knock on the door on his end of the line. “That’ll be Scotty again, no doubt.” he groans good-naturedly. There’s some shuffling as he makes his way over, yanking the door open with a “Scotty, how many times do I have to tell ya—“

“Elvis?” you say, concerned at how he cuts off mid-sentence, “Is everything alright?”

There’s a moment of silence, after which he stammers out a response.

“I, uh… I gotta go, I’ll call ya back, darlin’, alright?”

He doesn’t bother to wait for an answer before hanging up, but in the split second before it goes to a dial tone you can just make out a woman’s sultry voice over the receiver.

1968 - Present Day

He had still called after that, but not as frequently; certainly not every day like he promised. And while you forgave what happened on tour, you had never quite forgotten what him being away for a stretch of time could mean.

Still. Clean slate. Maybe this time could be different, you reasoned, though you were barely convincing yourself at this point.

You head back to Louisiana, promising your parents you’ll visit again soon and that you’ll give them a call as soon as you get home. You stumble through the door of your little house, exhausted after the 6-hour drive. Annie rushes over to hug you.

“Hey honey! Good to have ya home,” she grins, taking your suitcase from you, “I’ve got lunch for ya, you go sit down. I’ll put this in your room. And then I wanna hear all about how that li’l meetup went,” she adds with a wink, gently shoving you towards the kitchen while she heads down the hall.

You smile as you enter the kitchen to see a little card with the words “Welcome Home” in Annie’s signature scrawl next to a plate on the counter. You take a bite of the sandwich waiting for you — grilled cheese, Annie’s specialty — and finally allow yourself to relax. At that moment, Annie slides in with a mischievous grin, plopping herself down on the stool next to you.

“So…” she leads, a sparkle in her eye. “How was it?”

“It was good,” you reply, purposefully misinterpreting her question, “We took Mama out for dinner and I made her a cake—”

Annie cuts you off with a playful swat to your arm, “Not that! Elvis,” she says, dragging out the ‘s’ longer than necessary.

You roll your eyes, “Fine! It was… fine. We met up for lunch at this old diner we used to go to, we talked… Mama had me invite him over for dinner, and he brought flowers for her” you say pointedly, noticing the gleam in her eyes. “It went well, all things considered. Daddy did have some things to say, he still hasn’t quite forgiven him for what he did, but Elvis was a real gentleman the whole time. He actually went back to California today, filming somethin’ for TV, but he said he wants to keep in touch.”

“That’s great, honey!” Annie squeals, “I’m glad y’all are doin’ well.”

You give a weak smile in return. “Yeah, he said he’s gonna call every day, but…”

“Oh…” Annie’s eyes soften in understanding, recalling what you had told her about your relationship before. “Y/N, I know it might be scary, but what if it’s different this time? What if he actually keeps his promise? He’s said he wants to work on trust with you again, right? This is the perfect opportunity for him to prove to you that he’s worth trusting. And if he doesn’t,” she adds in a lighter tone, “I’ll fly out to California and sock him right in his pretty face myself.”

“I know you will,” you laugh, “but you’re right, I’ll—“

You’re cut off as the phone rings, and you lock eyes with Annie. It can’t be him already, can it? No, it’s probably your parents calling to make sure you made it home safely, you reason as you move to answer it.

“Hello?”

“Hey, Y/N,” the heavy drawl surprises you, and you nearly miss what Elvis says next, “I’m glad I caught you, I was callin’ a bit ago and got quite a tellin’ off from Annie sayin’ that you weren’t there yet.”

At that you turn to glare at Annie, who only gives you a smug, mischievous smirk in return.

“Yeah, I just got in maybe twenty minutes ago,” you reply, the shock slowly fading into a kind of warmth as his voice washes over you.

“How was the drive?”

“Long,” you say with a laugh, “I’m glad to be home now. How’s California?”

“‘S alright,” he replies, “I just got back from finalizing some stuff with Steve for filming tomorrow.”

“Oh yeah,” you recall your conversation from a few days ago, “The Christmas special, right? Or,” you correct yourself, “the not-entirely-Christmas special.”

“Exactly,” he laughs, “I’m actually pretty excited about it.”

“That’s good,” you smile, “I hope everything goes well.”

“Thank you, Y/N,” he says sincerely. “But anyway, enough about me. How are you?”

“Well, Annie had one of her famous grilled cheeses waiting for me when I got here so I’d say we’re off to a pretty good start. Tomorrow’s an inventory day at work, though, not nearly as exciting as filming a special for NBC.”

He sucks in a breath in sympathy, “I remember you never liked those days. Good luck with that,” he says, “and I’ll tell ya what: I’ll make sure to tell you all about the boring parts of filming so ya don’t get too jealous, how ‘bout that?” he teases

“Sounds perfect,” you laugh.

You don’t even notice the time flying by as the conversation continues, the two of you talking about everything and nothing, and you fall into a rhythm of talking for hours every night. Slowly, the nagging fear you feel that today’s the day he won’t call starts to fade, and you look forward to your nightly chats where you fill him in on any interesting customers and he tells you about the goofs he made that day during filming.

“I’m not kiddin’, I legitimately forgot the words!” he laughs.

Your only reply is to laugh even harder at the image of him surrounded by cameras forgetting the words to Heartbreak Hotel.

“Alright, come on, it ain’t that funny,” he says in a mock-hurt tone.

“Oh, I promise it is,” you say, wiping a tear from the corner of your eye, “I might need you to send me a copy or whatever of these goofs, I haven’t laughed this hard in ages.”

“I’ll see if I can arrange that for ya…” he replies, his voice trailing off as he seemingly turns away from the receiver for some reason.

“Is everything okay?”

“Yeah, just someone at the door,” he assures you, “Gimme one second.”

There’s some shuffling as he makes his way to the door, and your surprise at the thought of him carrying the phone with him across the room turns into a sinking feeling in your stomach as you hear the squeak of a door open and the muffled sounds of a woman’s voice. Your heart sinks as the memory of that day on his tour starts to play again in your mind, a cacophony of not again, I knew this would happen, I shouldn’t have trusted him filling your ears.

“-N? Y/N, you there?” You slowly blink back to reality as Elvis calls your name over the receiver, “Everything alright?”

“Y-yeah,” you reply hesitantly as he dives into an explanation about some crazy fan sneaking past security to his room. He pauses, picking up on the uncertainty in your voice.

“Y/N… you can talk to me, you know that, right? What’s wrong?” he says softly, and he sounds so genuine you want to cry.

“It’s… it’s silly…” you reply, embarrassed at the thought of telling him that that memory from all this years ago still haunts you.

“You don’t have to tell me, but I’d really like to know if I can help,” he replies patiently.

You sigh, and launch into an explanation of that night back in ‘55. “You just hung up on me, and the last thing I heard was some woman’s voice, and I didn’t realize how much that hurt me until I started worrying about who you were with whenever you were gone for a long time.” You explain softly, nervously fiddling with the phone cord.

“So just now, when you heard that girl at my door…” he sighs, realization dawning on him, “that brought all that back, didn’t it? I’m sorry, Y/N.” He says, and the sincerity of his words does bring tears to your eyes this time.

“I’m alright, I promise,” you reassure him, “surprised you turned her down,” you tease, wanting to move on.

“I don’t do that kinda thing anymore,” he laughs, picking up on your attempt to move to another topic, “besides, why would I stop to talk to some stranger who thinks they know everything about me when I could talk to you?”

Your heart flutters at the compliment, and you hope he can’t tell how much you’re blushing over the phone, “Aw, you’re sweet.”

There’s a moment of silence; not an awkward one, but comfortable, like the two of you don’t need to talk to enjoy each other’s company, even if it’s just on the phone. The moment is cut short, however, as Elvis speaks up again.

“I was thinkin’— and you’re free to say no, of course— well, Steve’s organizing this screening of the special before it airs. Right now it’s just Steve, Bones, Dad, Jerry, and me, but I’d like you to be there, too. Maybe get an opinion from someone who’s not family or paid to be nice to me.” He jokes.

“I’d love to,” you reply, “I’ll have to see if I can get off work, but if I can I’ll absolutely be there. And don’t worry, I’ll be brutally honest about the whole thing,” you add teasingly.

“I’m countin’ on it.” He laughs, “I’ll call once Steve has the day arranged and hopefully you can make it.”

The date Steve apparently figures out is November 19, two weeks before the special is actually set to air. Elvis relays to you that he’s arranged to do the screening at Graceland, and luckily you manage to convince your boss to give you both that day and the following day off for the long drive. Your parents are delighted to see you, of course, and you just barely miss the knowing smile on your mother’s face as you gush about how well your friendship with Elvis is going. Your father has warmed up to him the slightest bit, it seems, since your visit back in June, if the fact that he doesn’t scowl at every mention of Elvis’s name is any indication.

You take a deep breath as you pull up to Graceland. You force down the surfacing memories from the last time you were here, when Elvis officially put his career before you. Clean. Slate. you forcefully remind yourself as you step up to the front door.

The door swings open barely half a second after you ring the doorbell, and you find Elvis standing there, a nervous smile on his face.

“Hey.”

There’s a moment where the two of you simply stare at each other before he blinks, as if coming back to his senses, and steps aside to let you in. “Come on in, lemme introduce you to everybody,” he says, leading you to a room with not one, not two, but three TVs mounted into the wall, as one of his household staff comes to take your coat. 4 spaces on the immense couch taking up most of the space in the room are taken, one by his father and three others by people you don’t recognize. “This is Jerry, my manager,” Elvis says, gesturing to a man in a brown suit who looked to be in his late-20s with shaggy blondish hair, “and Steve and Bones, the masterminds behind this whole thing,” he introduces the two men sitting beside Jerry with a smile, one with neat brown hair and an ascot tied around his neck, the other with dark curly hair and round glasses. The three men give you various waves and smiles.

“And of course you know my dad,” Elvis finishes, gesturing to where he’s sitting next to Bones.

“Of course, hi Mr. Presley,” you say with a smile, coming over to shake his hand.

“Good to see you again, Y/N, how’ve ya been?” he asks as you take a seat next to him.

You’re hyperaware of Elvis sitting next to you as you make small talk with everyone, carefully leaning so that there’s a bit of distance between the two of you. As the screening begins, your attention is torn between the performance onscreen and real-life Elvis making jokes in your ear about “this is actually the take right after that goof I told you about—“ Your senses are full of him: the scent of his cologne, his arm brushing against yours, the feeling of his breath on your neck as he whispers to you, and it takes more and more of your energy to actually focus on the TVs in front of you.

About half an hour into the special, you excuse yourself and wander out to the hall, needing a break from the proximity. You don’t realize Elvis followed you out until his hand gently wraps around your wrist, making you jump.

“Sorry, I just wanted to make sure you were alright” he explains, releasing you.

“I’m fine,” you assure him, “just… needed a break.”

“It was that bad?” he jokes, “Damn, I’ll have to let Steve know.”

You shake your head, “No, no, it’s not that, it’s…” You hesitate, unsure if you should say what the real reason is. Your friendship is going so well, you’re not sure how he’ll react if you admit that your feelings for him were back in full force, that in truth they never really left.

“What is it?” he asks, concern in his eyes.

You take a deep breath, deciding it’s now or never.

“I’m in love with you. I never really stopped being in love with you, if I’m being honest. But being with you these past few months, being your friend again… I’ve loved it. I’ve loved talking with you on the phone for hours about everything and nothing, seeing you talk with my parents like nothing’s changed, and I… I wanna try again. For real this time.” You bite your lip, nervously gauging his reaction.

“You— you mean that?” Elvis asks softly, eyes wide.

“Yes,” you reply, “I mean it.”

“Y/N, I’d… I’d love that. I promise,” he says sincerely, “I’ll do it right this time. I’ll be the man you deserve.” He steps closer, his lips now just a breath away from yours. “Can I—“ his eyes flick from looking into yours down to your lips, “I really wanna kiss you right now.” he breathes.

You nod your consent, and he swoops down to capture your lips with his, one hand cupping your cheek while the other grips your waist, pulling you close. Your arms wind around his neck up into his hair, mussing the carefully styled locks as you savor the feeling of his lips velvet-soft against yours. He walks you backward until you’re pressed against the wall, his lips never leaving yours as his body presses against you. Eventually the need for air gets the better of you, and he reluctantly pulls away, keeping his forehead and nose pressed to yours as if he can’t bear to be any farther away. His blue eyes lock with yours as you catch your breath.

“I missed you so much,” he breathes, lips brushing against yours, and the amount of love clear in those 5 little words brings tears to your eyes.

“I missed you, too,” you reply softly, a smile spreading across your face.

The two of you stay like that for a while, pressed against the wall of the hallway, before Elvis mumbles “As much as I’d love to just stay here with you forever, we should probably get back before they notice we’re gone.”

“Oh, right,” you laugh sheepishly as you remember the reason you were there in the first place.

The two of you slip back into the TV room, your absence seemingly having gone unnoticed, and assume the spaces you had occupied before you left, with one small difference: your hand is intertwined with his throughout the rest of the screening.

Taglist: @queenslandlover-93 @anangelwhodidntfall @austin-butlers-gf @butlersluvbot @killerqueenfan @kittenlittle24 @beauvibaby @kingelviscreole @justjacesstuff @sweetheartlizzie07 @coldonexx @londonalozzy @kaycinema @annamarie16 @adoreyouusugar @djconde58 @mirandastuckinthe80s @luke-my-skywalker @tubble-wubble @apparently-sunshine @kisseskae @whotfatemywaffles @gyomei-tiddies @friedwangsss @shynovelist @sassy-ahsoka-tano @she-is-juniper

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gimmethatagustd · 2 months

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venor (6) | kth + jjk

The barista at the university’s café keeps telling Jungkook not to come back, but Jungkook is too busy daydreaming about kissing the beauty marks on his face to be paying attention to his warnings.

○ Pairing: Tiger!Taehyung x Bunny!Jungkook

○ Rating: Explicit/18+

○ Genre: Hybrids, predator/prey, college au, strangers to lovers, slow burn, fluff, light angst, eventual smut

○ Word Count: 3,727

○ Warnings: It's what the gworlies call self-lubrication aka slick, how delish

○ Notes: This one is dedicated to @remmykinsff cuz they realized i forgot to delete an old draft from my queue so i ended up posting the wrong fucking thing 😭 Also, I tried so hard not to write too much about the Amarna Period during the 18th Dynasty of Ancient Egypt 💀 It was hard to control myself tbh

○ Post Date: March 11, 2024

○ Masterlist | AO3 Cross-Post

○ What was Jai listening to? The series playlist

Series Masterlist

“Are you sure you don’t want a jacket?”

Taehyung’s question ends with his lips downturned. He leans against his car while he holds the door open for Jungkook and watches with narrow eyes as Jungkook scoots out of the passenger seat.

“I’m okay! We didn’t park that far from the entrance.” Jungkook’s attempt to look confident by crossing his arms against his chest makes him look even colder.

It’s relatively chilly outside, and despite Taehyung’s pestering, Jungkook hasn’t bothered to dress appropriately for the weather. He doesn’t miss the way Taehyung’s gaze drags over his body, taking inventory of his cropped sweater that stops just before the waistband of his tight, ripped jeans. When Jungkook turns around, he swears he sees Taehyung’s eyes drop to his fluffy white tail poking out of the little hole in his jeans. It almost excites him enough to wiggle, but he holds it in. He can’t possibly embarrass himself before their not -date has even begun.

It’s not really a date if they’re only going to the museum together for a school assignment, Yoongi had pointed out. Suyun said otherwise, but Jungkook isn’t sure if he should get his hopes up.

“Museums are always cold,” Taehyung finally points out before closing the car door behind Jungkook. “I have an extra one in the back.”

“I swear, I’m okay,” Jungkook rushes to shut Taehyung up. He grabs Taehyung’s wrist and tugs. “Let’s go!”

Surprisingly, Taehyung lets Jungkook drag him through the parking lot without fussing. By the time they slip through the museum’s front doors, Jungkook’s hand migrates down to Taehyung’s, their palms pressing together and fingers intertwining.

There aren’t many people lingering in the museum’s lobby, but the few around are mostly prey hybrids. One of them, a mouse hybrid, turns around so sharply to stare at Jungkook and Taehyung that it startles Jungkook into nearly tripping. She doesn’t speak when they walk past her toward the check-in desk, but her nose wiggles and pulls up into a deep scrunch.

In the still air of the museum and without the outside breeze to muddle smells, even hybrids with weak senses can pick up Taehyung’s scent mingling with Jungkook’s. They bring with them the smell of a warm spring rainstorm, earthy and floral, life-bearing.

Taehyung doesn’t seem to notice the mouse hybrid’s reaction to them — or he pretends not to, choosing to keep his attention on the task at hand. He had been focused like this on the drive from Jungkook’s dorm to the museum, so quiet that Jungkook had assumed he might be angry with him over them scenting each other. It wasn’t until a Girls’ Generation song came on the radio that Jungkook sang along to that Taehyung’s hard edge melted.

It was overwhelming to be in such a small space with Taehyung, surrounded by his petrichor scent and distracted by the flick of his tail, which rested on the center console. Jungkook had to stop himself from staring while Taehyung drove, just like he has to stop himself now.

On the outside, Jungkook is calm as he waits in line to buy their tickets for the Egyptian art exhibit. Internally, he’s freaking out over just how big Taehyung’s hand is. He even lets himself sneak a peek and tries not to burn with shy embarrassment when his heart flutters at how his hand is engulfed by Taehyung’s.

“Bun,” Taehyung calls out, bumping his shoulder against Jungkook’s. The ticket line is moving, and Jungkook isn’t.

He needs to pull himself together.

But first, he needs to pull himself apart from Taehyung.

Letting go of Taehyung’s hand, Jungkook reaches into his back pocket for his wallet. However, he’s too slow, and all he can do is watch as Taehyung slides his credit card to the employee behind the desk in exchange for two rectangular strips of paper.

“You’ll take the elevators to the left up to the third floor. The exhibit will be on your immediate right,” the employee explains, but Jungkook isn’t listening.

“Why did you do that?” Jungkook hisses as Taehyung heads toward the elevators, not even bothering to glance at Jungkook.

“Do what?”

“Pay for both of us!”

“Because I wanted to?” Taehyung shoots his arm out to stop the elevator doors from closing and ushers Jungkook inside.

There isn’t a reasonable rebuttal, so Jungkook glares at him while the elevator beeps as they pass the second floor. They stand on opposite sides, leaning against each wall's handrail. Luckily, the elevator doesn’t stop for anyone else to get on.

“So pouty,” Taehyung smirks but keeps his eyes on the changing number above the elevator’s doors. “Don’t prey like to be taken care of?”

“No.”

Jungkook’s answer comes too quickly, and his tone is too petulant. It makes Taehyung laugh, finally bringing his bright gaze to rest on Jungkook’s face.

“Not even little domesticated bunnies like you?” Taehyung teases.

“You’re domesticated, too!”

“Are tigers domesticated?” Taehyung’s boxy grin widens.

At a loss for words, Jungkook follows Taehyung out of the elevator.

As the museum employee said, the entrance to the exhibit Jungkook and Taehyung are looking for is directly to the right of the elevator lobby. Another employee in uniform stands at a small podium in front of the large glass doors to check guests’ tickets. He’s young, likely a college student working a part-time job, with black and orange striped ears poking out of straight black hair.

“Good afternoon,” the tiger hybrid greets lowly. He pauses to look over Taehyung before gazing over Jungkook’s form.

It’s intimidating, standing between two large predators. Jungkook never feels weak, but he feels meek, knowing he is the weakest one here. As usual, this doesn’t deter him. He stands with his head held high and his eyes locked on the employee.

“Have you visited before?” the employee asks Taehyung, who shakes his head. The employee explains the setup of the exhibit and then hands Taehyung a pamphlet about the artwork and a museum map in case they need it.

It shouldn’t bother Jungkook that the employee never speaks to him, but he feels irritation prickle his skin as he walks away. His mood must sour his scent or muddle his expression because Taehyung bumps shoulders with him again once they’re inside the exhibit.

“What’s up, bun? Already tired of being here?” Taehyung folds the pamphlet and map to stick them in the back pocket of his jeans. It’s obvious that he’s been to this museum before; he has only listened to the employees explain everything to be polite.

“That guy didn’t even talk to me. He only talked to you.”

“Oh, yeah.”

Jungkook pouts at Taehyung’s dismissive response. He doesn’t seem to be paying attention to what Jungkook says; instead, he is scrolling on his phone.

“Taehyung.”

“What, did you want him to talk to you?” Looking over, Taehyung gives Jungkook a boxy grin. “Did you think he was cute?”

“No!” Jungkook whispers harshly, peeking around to see if they’ve disturbed anyone with their talking.

Unconcerned about their surroundings, Taehyung advances on Jungkook, forcing him to shuffle further into the exhibit.

“Do you have a thing for tigers, Jungkook?”

Jungkook’s floppy ears hug tight to the side of his face, hiding him from Taehyung’s sparkling amber eyes. Mortified, he turns on his heel and walks past the large signage welcoming guests to learn more about Amarna art, the art style of the Amarna Period during the Eighteenth Dynasty of Ancient Egypt.

The exhibit comprises open rooms connected by long, wide hallways. Each room is organized by art medium, with the first devoted to sarcophagi. Taehyung follows Jungkook into the first room, laughing under his breath about Jungkook being “skittish.”

Jungkook pretends not to hear him.

“Starting off with the mummies is an interesting choice,” Taehyung mutters as he strolls through the massive glass display cases. Some of the sarcophagi are empty, and most are closed, but a few mummies are on display near the back of the room.

“Why do you say that?” Jungkook asks, his natural curiosity and infatuation with Taehyung winning over his desire to be pouty.

“Mummies are all people care about. Shouldn’t they make us work for it by putting them at the end?”

Jungkook shrugs.

“I’m sure people don’t only come for the mummies. If they’re paying money, they might as well see the whole exhibit.”

Taehyung gives Jungkook a look that tells him he’s being naive, but Jungkook doesn’t care. He wants to believe people aren’t so simple-minded, even if Taehyung is the one going to school to study this stuff.

Despite appreciating art and considering himself an artist, if only to an extent, Jungkook has spent little time in art museums. His parents never celebrated the value of the arts. It seems silly to think about since he’s an adult now and can visit museums whenever he wants. Perhaps having the chance to appreciate art at his own pace is part of why it feels nice to meander through the different rooms with Taehyung.

Jungkook is also self-aware enough to know that he’s enjoying himself because half of his energy goes into watching Taehyung examine the art. Every once in a while, they’ll run into other museum guests discussing the displays in hushed voices, and they even come across a small group tour, but for most of the visit, they’re on their own.

The solitude allows Jungkook to see Taehyung in what appears to be his element. Taehyung occasionally hums to himself as he squints at the pieces, though Jungkook most enjoys it when he frowns. When it seems like he really likes a piece of artwork, his tail skirts the floor, flicking up to curl around his calf like he’s giving himself a little hug. It makes Jungkook wonder what Taehyung is thinking about — if his thoughts are purely about the Art History assignment they’re working on or if there’s more to his analysis.

Jungkook quickly concludes that Taehyung is simply a giant nerd when he peeks over his shoulder to find Taehyung skimming an article on his phone about the statue he’s standing in front of.

“What made you want to study art?”

Taehyung slips his phone into his pocket and frowns at Jungkook’s question – his face stuck in art examination mode.

“I’m good at it. Making it, critiquing it, researching it,” Taehyung begins, his hands finding the pockets of his jean jacket. “But mostly because it’s rather magical, right? How is it possible for art to trigger our emotions? How can a painting or song make people cry? Or for sculptures to make us nostalgic for a world we didn’t come from?” Taehyung gestures to the wooden toy horse amongst other treasures found in a child’s tomb.

From what Jungkook has learned about Taehyung over the semester, he is more of an observer than a participant in conversations. Still, when Taehyung has something to say, he never fails to leave Jungkook speechless — for better or worse.

They’re silent for the rest of their time in the exhibit, only stopping to exchange quiet words when they need to take pictures or write notes about certain art pieces. They take their time admiring the busts and sunken reliefs of the ancient pharaoh Akhenaten and his wife, Nefertiti.

Jungkook gets easily caught up in the transformative magic of art history, losing track of time and place as he examines canopic jars in glass cases on raised pedestals and takes too long reading the information placards next to every item.

Just over an hour passes before Jungkook and Taehyung reach the end of the exhibit. Jungkook feels like hardly any time has passed at all.

“Wait,” Taehyung pinches the sleeve of Jungkook’s sweater as he’s about to push through the exit doors to return to the main hallway. “We have to take a picture as evidence.”

“Professor Jung is so silly for that. Who is going to lie about going to the art museum?” Jungkook says with a laugh.

Taehyung gives him another skeptical look. “You are too trusting.”

Jungkook lets Taehyung pull him into his side to take a selfie in front of the exhibit signage. Taehyung’s arm is a heavy weight around Jungkook’s waist. He tries not to be obvious when he breathes in deeply to cherish their brief closeness as Taehyung takes the photo before stepping away.

Not once does Jungkook question spending alone time with a predator or letting one get so close to him. Maybe he is too trusting.

“Do you want to leave now?” Jungkook asks once they’re out in the hallway.

He pulls at the sleeves of his sweater, giving himself sweater paws and avoiding Taehyung to look down the hall where the elevators are instead. He doesn’t want to leave because leaving means Taehyung will take him home, and Jungkook wants to spend more time with him. He’s just afraid to say that out loud.

“Want to go back to my place?” Taehyung asks like it’s the easiest question in the world.

Feeling hot in the face, Jungkook hides behind his ears when he mumbles a shakey, “Sure.”

“Cool, cool,” Taehyung nods, tail flicking as he leads Jungkook through the winding hallways to get back to the elevator lobby. “We can get food and work on our project.”

It takes everything in Jungkook not to launch himself into a hyperactive fit of wiggles, even with such a strong urge to jump at Taehyung, to throw his arms around his neck and latch on for dear life. It’s just too much excitement all bottled up in the young bunny’s body. He tries to focus on getting back to the elevators and keeping his heart beating at a normal rate, so much so that he doesn’t realize he’s leading the way rather than Taehyung.

Jungkook has definitely taken them down the wrong hallway because they end up in the Renaissance era rather than the elevator lobby. He’s so hyped up on excitable energy verging on panic that he forgets to ask Taehyung to check the museum map.

“Bun, look at this portrait.”

Noticing that Taehyung is no longer behind him, Jungkook backtracks down the long, wide hallway. Whichever painting has caught Taehyung’s eye must be unique; he seems picky about art.

“Wait,” Taehyung grabs Jungkook’s arm and pulls him to the side, positioning him for the perfect viewing experience. “Okay, now look.”

Following Taehyung’s gaze, Jungkook turns to look at the portrait — only to realize that the art hanging on the wall isn’t a painting, but a mirror. The sixteenth-century walnut frame is impressive, rectangular, and adorned with beautiful carvings and gold details painted around its curled edges. In the middle is an oval glass, clear as a teardrop.

“Beautiful, isn’t he?” Taehyung whispers, his eyes meeting Jungkook’s through the mirror from where he stands to the side. “Who knew such gorgeous bunnies existed in Renaissance Italy.”

Jungkook watches with shining eyes as his cheeks turn pink in the mirror. Taehyung’s praise floods his body with warmth even as Jungkook trembles when Taehyung takes a step closer.

“Stop teasing me,” Jungkook whispers, afraid his voice might echo through the empty hall.

“I’m serious,” Taehyung purrs against the curve of his ear. He curls his arms around Jungkook’s waist, pulling him close in a back hug and making Jungkook’s breath quicken.

“You’re just saying that.”

Taehyung maintains firm eye contact with Jungkook through the mirror as his tongue darts out to lick his bottom lip. He’s warm and solid against Jungkook’s body, securely holding him into place when he trembles.

“Are you nervous?”

Breathless, Jungkook nods.

“Because little bunnies should stay away from big, scary tigers like me?” Taehyung teases in a syrupy voice that’s darker than it is sweet.

Is that why Jungkook can’t calm himself down? He doesn’t know; he can’t think straight. He watches a slow smile build on Taehyung’s face, one that ends up sharp and, well, predatory.

“I…”

“Hmm?”

Taehyung presses his palm against Jungkook’s lower stomach and rests his chin on Jungkook’s shoulder.

“I don’t know.”

Jungkook licks his lips like Taehyung had, leaving them slightly parted as he tries to slow his breathing. He feels Taehyung’s quiet chuckle rumble through his chest and against his back. It brings Jungkook’s attention to the rest of his body, and he nearly goes weak in the knees when he realizes his ass rests against Taehyung’s crotch.

“Can I kiss you, bun?” Taehyung whispers in Jungkook’s ear.

Jungkook can hardly formulate a response, every coherent thought fizzling from his brain like water evaporating off a summer sidewalk. It’s embarrassing how badly he wants to feel Taehyung’s lips on his. Rarely has he let himself consider the possibility that it may happen, always too shy – perhaps even insecure – to let such a genuine thought grow inside him.

But now Taehyung’s breath fans across Jungkook’s neck, and he wishes he’d let himself fantasize more about the predator who’s always on his mind. Maybe then he could have been confident and sexy rather than the goopy mess he’s turning into as Taehyung cups his chin to tilt his face up and to the side.

“Am I embarrassing myself right now by reading this whole day wrong?”

“Y-yes,” Jungkook stammers, cheeks flushing pink. “I mean, no, yes, you can kiss me. Please.”

Taehyung’s sharp mouth turns boxy, and a bit of his predatory allure falls back to reveal the boyish charm Jungkook only rarely gets a glimpse of.

“Good,” Taehyung hums as he slides his hand along to grip the back of Jungkook’s neck.

Jungkook’s breath gets caught in his throat when Taehyung squeezes his neck to hold him in place. His grip isn’t tight, but his hand is large, and his hold is firm. The odd sense of security it brings Jungkook makes him feel gooey inside.

Despite his aggressive hold on Jungkook, Taehyung kisses him gently. It starts with a soft but sure press of Taehyung’s lips against Jungkook’s, close-mouthed and almost a test run, as if Taehyung thinks Jungkook might pull back if he dives in too deeply.

When Jungkook doesn’t, Taehyung kisses him harder, running his tongue over the seam of Jungkook’s lips until they part with a small gasp. Emboldened, he sucks Jungkook’s bottom lip into his mouth, swiping his tongue and dragging his teeth over it before he lets it go with a wet sound far too loud for a museum’s hallway.

“I love that you smell like me,” Taehyung murmurs against Jungkook’s lips before capturing them again and slipping his hot tongue inside Jungkook’s mouth.

Jungkook twists in Taehyung’s embrace so their fronts fully press together. Throwing one arm over Taehyung’s shoulder and using his free hand to grip the front of Taehyung’s shirt, Jungkook pulls him close so Taehyung can hold up his weight. There’s no way Jungkook can stand properly when Taehyung is sucking on his tongue and biting his bottom lip, coaxing out shameless whimpers from the bunny hybrid.

“You taste so good,” Taehyung murmurs against Jungkook’s lips when they finally pull back just enough to breathe. He slides his hands down Jungkook’s back to grab his ass, squeezing and kneading it in his large palms.

“Oh,” Jungkook gasps and tightens his arm around Taehyung’s neck. Heat floods his body as his floral scent sweetens and spikes so strongly that Taehyung audibly inhales.

It’s Jungkook’s slick. He can feel it drip between his cheeks and soak his briefs. It’s embarrassing how his body pulses with desire, stronger than he has ever felt in his entire life.

“Fuck, Jungkook,” Taehyung growls as he surges forward to steal another kiss. The deep, gravelly sound makes Jungkook leak more slick.

Taehyung squeezes Jungkook’s ass again, this time pulling him closer when he does and forcing their hips to grind together.

“Taehyung,” Jungkook tries to speak through his uncontrollable whimpers. They’re making out in the middle of a museum, and now, Jungkook is so wet that he’s sure he has soaked through his pants. “Taehyung, there are cameras.”

“I know.” Taehyung grins into the kiss, causing his teeth to press against Jungkook’s lips.

It isn’t until Taehyung’s fingers brush Jungkook’s fluffy tail that Jungkook finally jerks away.

“Tae,” Jungkook rasps, panting and flooded with embarrassment that leaves his body shaking. “I’m, I, um...”

Flustered, Jungkook trails off. He tries to look away, but Taehyung squeezes his chin, thumb pressing his cheek to force him to look at Taehyung.

“Hey, bun,” Taehyung speaks softly, “I’m sorry. I got carried away.”

“My pants,” is all Jungkook manages to say, his brain a fuzzy mess, the only coherent thought being Taehyung Taehyung Taehyung.

“Shit, take my jacket.” Taehyung quickly removes his jean jacket and wraps it around Jungkook’s waist, tying it by the sleeves at the front so the rest of the jacket covers Jungkook’s butt where his slick has leaked through his pants.

“Can anyone tell?” Jungkook whispers while checking over his shoulder to see if other museum guests are nearby.

“You’re okay.” Taehyung chews his bottom lip, cheeks tinged pink and eyes heavy. “I can take you home.”

“No!”

Taehyung raises his eyebrows, and Jungkook feels his face burn even hotter.

“You don’t want me to take you home?”

Jungkook plays with the sleeves of Taehyung’s jacket, and a different kind of warmth floods his body when he considers how well Taehyung is trying to take care of him. He knows he should go home, but he doesn’t want to leave Taehyung – especially not with his lips tingling from his kiss and his head spinning from how Taehyung had sounded, practically moaning his name.

“I thought we were going to work on our projects together…”

Jungkook doesn’t mean to put on the charm; his sparkly doe eyes naturally react to how giddy and alive Taehyung makes him feel.

With a grin that makes Jungkook’s stomach flutter, Taehyung grabs the jacket sleeves tied around Jungkook’s waist and tugs, forcing Jungkook to stumble toward him. It’s impossible to deny how much Jungkook enjoys Taehyung taking control and how Taehyung looms over him when they’re standing flush against each other – especially when Jungkook starts leaking even more slick.

“Let’s go.” Taehyung’s sharp canines glint in the fluorescent lighting, and Jungkook finds it difficult to swallow.

What has Jungkook gotten himself into?

Series Masterlist

Disclaimer: All my writing is fictional and for entertainment purposes only. None of these characters are meant to actually represent the real people mentioned in the stories.

All rights reserved © @gimmethatagustd - Do not copy, repost, modify, or translate any of my writing. Do not use my writing for any AI purposes whatsoever. Do not use my fics for anything aside from reading and commenting on them. My fics will only be posted on this Tumblr and on AO3 (gimmethatagustd & daddytaehyungie). Request an AO3 account here.

#taehyung x jungkook #bts fanfic #bts smut #bts fluff #jai writes #gimmethatagustd #venor #taekook fanfic

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corvase · 2 years

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when in doubt fake a marriage! prompts

feel free to use:)

“let’s get married.” “… ok…” “OK????”

character a kneeling down like “will you ma—“ and character b like “get up.”

rather than strangers to fake lovers, best friends to fake lovers or coworkers (!!!) to fake lovers

what if one of them just put up a tinder account solely for attracting someone to beg them to be in a fake relationship with them

“we need a reason, though. my parents won’t be too approving of us living together if—“ “what if we got married?”

“what’s the timeline?” “let’s say we met.. nine months ago.” “woah… suspicious.”

how well do they work together? do they like each other? hate each other? indifferent? and if so, what makes them begin to see the other in a new light?

they’re at an event together and one offers the other food not knowing they’re allergic so now they have to explain why their spouse wouldn’t know their allergies

they choose to get married because both their families are pressuring them

they choose to get married because they need that requirement for a certain benefit, etc

“why do you keep looking at me like that?” “no reason… the dress is just.. you’re just…” “i mean, it was from party city, but thank you.”

“thank you for thinking of me… even if this isn’t real.”

a sudden “what if we got married?” and a “…… it scares me that that was the first solution you could think of.” response

the first time their called by the others’ last name

“oh my gosh i just lied to your parents. i never lie to parents. i feel sick. they were so kind.” “breathe.”

“oh. you got me flowers. wow.” “you are my spouse, aren’t you?”

“does this mean anything to you like… truly, at all?”

the moment they walk down the aisle and neither are in love just yet so they’re both thinking “i can’t believe this is my life🙁”

“let’s pretend to be married.” “ARE YOU OUT OF YOUR MIND????”

a confession like “i love you.” and a blank stare in response so they go “no like, for real. like actually. like i genuinely love you.”

“sorry… my family can be a bit much.” “no, i love them.”

“ok but how do i explain to my fake husband that i want him to be his real wife who got married with real vows and stuff?”

one character whispering to the other while they’re asleep, “i want this so badly to be real.”

the wedding night… i won’t elaborate

the first time they kiss and why… how is it explained away? is it even acknowledged?

“i want to marry you, for real.”

“i think you’re the most radiant person i’ve seen ever. i’m glad i married you.” “the first or second time?”

a scene where they discuss the logistics; are they actually legally getting married? if so are they living together? splitting bills? what about transportation? consider all these things :)

#i’m having too much fun with my titles #fake marriage prompts #fake dating prompts #fake marriage #writeblr #writing #writing tips #writing advice #writing romance #writing prompts #romance prompts #dialogue prompts #romance writing prompts #imagine your otp #imagine your ship #ship prompts #fake dating au #fake marriage au #romance aus

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hargr0vefield · 2 years

Text

fixable — b.h

billy hargrove x reader (gender neutral)

tw: cursing

inspired by a prompt from @babyprincessharrington <3 thank you!

in which billy makes a surprise visit to the reader after a breakup

a/n: first billy ficcc hope it’s not too awful 🫶🏻

the clock reads 2am as you’re finally in bed, ready to try and sleep the edge off, nothing but the white noise of your bedroom filling your ears.

it’s november, and although no windows are open, the atmosphere is cold enough to slink its way under your walls and into all throughout the house. the bone dried broken autumn leaves still falling even in glistening moonlight.

your boyfriend, well, ex boyfriend billy, snapped your heart in two only a month ago today. prior events were seeming to make this the hardest fall of your life, in more ways than just the weather.

you knew billy, though, and that just didn’t make sense. was he having another episode? with thoughts crowding your minds forefront, you’re brought back to reality by a startling knock on your window.

you knew of only one person who’d dare try and enter through your hellscape of a window. at 2am? in november? ‘guess it had to be serious.

another knock. “i’ve had a long day and you’re about to either be a waste of my time or the object of my tantrum. i’m calling the latter,” you say, as you pry open your window to find a dirty blonde mullet and a dangling earring.

“no need for all that, sweetness,” he calls as he pushes past you into your dark and quiet bedroom. you scoff and gently pull the window down, securing the cold to stay outside and not in.

“what the hell are you doing here,” it’s more of a statement, more disbelief than genuine concern.

“truth be told,” he pauses as he lights up a cigarette he extracts from his brown leather coat, “i’m not sure.”

this was so typical. wasting your time like this when it could be spent doing something much more fitting of the hour; sleeping.

“go to hell.”

“i’ll have to see you there then,” he slinks closer, gently placing a hand to your waist.

you scowl, the domino effect beginning as his face twists into a smile, knowing he’s done the right thing to garner a reaction. “do you know if hell has spots for shitty boyfriends? oh i’m sorry,” you mockingly clear your throat, “ex boyfriends?”

you stand there, eyes blazing as you stare up into his deathly glare. no ones a match for those blue eyes. no one.

he scoffs. “come on, y/n, don’t be like that,”

the new fallen silence consumes the room as he looms over you, dread clear in his expression, confusion clear in yours.

you suck in a deep breath and look down before you speak, knowing your next words might cause a riff. “you should leave, bill.”

you refuse to look up. what, meet his damned eyes that you’d never be able to look away from if given into? he couldn’t keep doing this. running back after he’d cooled off whether it be an hour later or a month later, this time the latter.

your thoughts are disrupted as he takes a hand and slowly lifts your chin with it, forcing you to meet his eyes.

your eyes are glossed over and you hope he can’t tell. the last thing he needs is to know you’re showing a sign of weakness. you’d hate for him to feel bad although you know deep down he should.

“i,” he stops short, not being able to continue his thought. squeezing his eyes shut, it’s as if he wants to tell you, but knows it wouldn’t be like him to. you press, hoping he’ll be willing to break the image for just a second, “what, bill?”

you lightly press a hand to his chest, showing him you’re at least attempting to break up some of the tension in the dim room.

“i can’t keep kissing strangers pretending they’re you.”

regret etching onto his features practically instantly after the words leave his mouth.

the air in the room suddenly feels exceptionally heavy. what did he just say?

“billy,”

he removes his hand from your chin and turns his back to you in a panicked motion, “no, y/n, don’t. spare me the pity bullshit.”

a single tear escapes your eye as you stand there facing his back, knowing once he turns around his old habits of wanting to protect you at all times will kick in.

“no billy listen,” your voice breaks against your will and in an instant, he’s turned around, remorse written all over his face.

you quickly clear your throat and wipe your cheek, hoping he didn’t get too good of a look.

“y/n,” he takes a couple steps, until he’s directly in front of you, his eyes meeting yours. the distance between you mere inches.

“billy, i don’t know what you want anymore,” your voice merely a whisper, hands curling into fists as the rage you’ve felt the past month threatens to spill out into the thin space dividing you both.

he closes his eyes, sighing. you two being so close yet not touching in any sense only adding to your anger. why won’t he just look at you? is he ashamed?

“damnit billy fucking look at me,”

“i can’t ok!” he throws his hands up and lets them land on his face, covering his eyes.

“and why’s that?”

“because i fucked up and i don’t think i can fix it this time. that’s all i do. fuck up and expect it to not reap any consequences.”

he runs his hand over his mouth, refusing to let his eyes drift up and meet yours.

you stand there, now with some distance between the two of you as he leans against your dresser.

“you know that with us,” you begin to inch closer to him, causing him to look up and meet your eyes as you settle directly in front of him, “it’s always fixable.”

your eyes ache with unshed tears at this sight of him, clearly beating himself up and probably having done so since the night he broke it off.

he had never cared for anyone the way he did you. he was always afraid he was doing it wrong, or he’d fuck up and there were lots of those times, but he was learning. and he never let that stop him from attempting to be the best he could to you.

you place a hand to his jaw and let another tear fall, except you don’t realize it’s fallen until he reaches up and swipes it with his hand.

without saying another word, billy stands up from his previous slumped position on the dresser, and wraps you into a tight hug, clearly stemmed from his spoken fear of not being able to fix things and possibly losing you for good this time.

slowly but surely, you hug back, placing your arms around his middle.

#billy hargrove #billy hargrove imagine #billy hargrove x y/n #billy hargrove x reader

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missjanjie · 1 year

Text

100 Prompts #3

the first prompt list of the new year! yall know the drill, send a number + ship (and au/trope if applicable)

“I’m happier than ever, honest.”

“Do you ever think about me? About us?”

“Just be cool, act natural.”

“You’re lying. Tell me you’re lying.”

“No, I’m not okay.”

“Please? I’ll make it up to you.”

“I wish I’d never laid eyes on you.”

“You have to admit, we’d be hot together.”

“I said I’m in love with you!”

“You are… really something else.”

“I didn’t know you could do that.”

“Make me.”

“We’re gonna get caught.”

“I can’t do this anymore, I have to go.”

“You started without me?”

“I had nowhere else to go.”

“Please, just hold me.”

“Explain it to me like I’m five.”

“I never meant for any of this to happen.”

“You broke me.”

“I have to go after them.”

“They say you’re trouble.”

“I don’t need your pity.”

“You have to promise not to fall in love with me.”

“You’re leaving? Now?”

“I don’t think you even know what you want.”

“They’re the one that got away.”

“I’m not trying to be your friend, I’m trying to fuck you.”

“How long have you been standing there?”

“They’d kill me if they knew.”

“You’re not dying, you have a crush.”

“Are you always this oblivious?”

“When I’m with them I’m thinking of you.”

“Fuck, it’s locked!”

“Don’t start singing. For the love of god, don’t start singing.”

“What do you want me to do, get on my knees and beg?”

“Heard you were looking for me.”

“Ignore me all you want, you can’t un-fuck me.”

“I can’t give you anything but time.”

“Why are you naked?”

“Oh my god, you’re in love.”

“I swore I’d never fall in love again… then I found you.”

“Jealous? I’m not jealous, I just think they can do better.”

“Do you have any idea how much self control it takes just to exist in the same space as you?”

“Just listen to me for once in your life.”

“Come on, you said you’d behave today.”

“I think I misunderstood the assignment.”

“Whose baby is that?”

“Call me tomorrow if you’re still alive.”

“You’re the love of my life… just maybe not this life.”

“That’s not what you said last night.”

“I’m on my fifth White Claw, that’s the kind of night this is.”

“Why are you bleeding?”

“Damn, you look like shit.”

“You weren’t supposed to see that.”

“I know it’s three am but I couldn’t let you be sad by yourself.”

“Can I touch you?”

“Run away, run and find something better.”

“All I wanted was you.”

“I think I just met my soulmate.”

“There’s nothing more to say.”

“What happens next?”

“Stop, you’re wasting your time.”

“I don’t know how to be fine without pretending.”

“Oh. I didn’t realize you moved on.”

“I thought you were dead!”

“You can’t keep kissing strangers and pretending it’s me.”

“Uh oh, you’re listening to your extra-angsty playlist, I see.”

“Aren’t you a little old to be playing hard to get?”

“Don’t settle for me.”

“Ugh, just kill me now.”

“I haven’t seen you smile like that in a long time.”

“We can learn to love again.”

“All you needed to do was ask me to stay.”

“You… You just kissed me.”

“What’s a pretty thing like you doing in a place like this?”

“Stop being so stubborn and let me help you.”

“I’ll believe that when I see it.”

“That… is an interesting choice.”

“Well, let’s make another bad decision while we’re here.”

“I’m bored. Wanna make out?”

“Okay, I guess we’re doing this.”

“Wow… I’m speechless.”

“Let’s see what you’re made of.”

“I just need some air.”

“I’m tired of you treating everything like a joke.”

“Holy shit, do you ever stop talking?”

“It finally feels like my life has meaning.”

“I never stopped loving you. Not for a second.”

“I’m happy as long as you’re mine.”

“It’s my first time.”

“Believe me, I didn’t want to fall in love with you.”

“One of these days, you’ll have to stop lying to yourself.”

“It’s now or never, baby.”

“The fact that I can’t have you makes me want you more.”

“You have a choice to make, better get it right.”

“Oh, honey, I was born for this.”

“How high did you have to get to come up with that one?”

“I feel like I’m too old to be dealing with a crush.”

“I hate that your smug attitude is turning me on.”

#writing prompts #writing starters #sentence prompts #sentence starters #fic prompts

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henry-fox-biggest-stan · 11 months

Text

I Kissed Shara Wheeler and Taylor (also did rwrb, one last stop is next)

Chloe Argumentative, antithetical dream girl / You’re a bandit like me / And it’s all good if you’re bad, and it’s okay if you’re mad / Takes one to know one / Thought I had reason to attack / Maybe I’m just a girl on a mission / Asked me what I learnt from all those years / I don’t like slow motion double vision in a rose blush / I'm ready for combat, I say I don't want that, what if I do? / No more keeping score, now I just keep you warm Green

Shara A pathological people pleaser / To make them love me and make it seem effortless / I’m still trying everything to keep you looking at me / Confess my truth in swooping, sloping, cursive letters / She's not a saint, and she's not what you think, she's an actress / My reputation’s never been worse so, you must like me for me / My town was a wasteland, full of cages, full of fences, pageant queens and big pretenders / I laid the groundwork, and then just like clockwork, the dominoes cascaded in a line / Don’t pretend it’s such a mystery / I had a marvelous time ruining everything Wheeler

Rory Can’t you see than I’m the one who understands you? Been here all along / I’ve been the archer, I’ve been the prey / “Oh my god, she’s insane, she wrote a song about me” / I’ll stare directly at the sun but never into the mirror / He's the song in the car I keep singin', don't know why I do / This place’s too crowded, too many cool kids / All those other girls, well they’re beautiful, but would they write a song for you? / When the truth is like a stranger hits you right between the eyes / Don’t need another metaphor, it’s simple enough / Put the money in the bag and I stole the keys Heron

Smith Hey Stephen / They all wanna be ya, but are you still the same soul I met under the bleachers? / And my so-called friends, they don’t know / Through it all nobody gets me like you do / And at every table, I’ll save you a seat / Is it cool than I said all that? / You can feel it on the way home / I still got love for you / And it always leads to you, in my hometown / I’d tell you I miss you but I don’t know how Parker

Georgia I want auroras and sad prose / I’m so in love than I might stop breathing / And I’m wearing my heart on my sleeve / My hands shake, I’m not usually this way / Every dead-end street brought you straight to me / Now I read all of the books beside your bed / I wrote a poem, you say “What a mind” / I can’t stop you putting roots in my dream land / On the outside looking in / I believe in what I feel, I've always been the same girl Neale

The rwrb one:

#iksw #i kissed shara wheeler #shara wheeler #chloe green #casey mcquiston #rory heron #smith parker #georgia neale

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the-beskar-alchemist · 1 year

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Episode 2 thoughts

Here we go with more of my ramblings!

(Also just a reminder, I’m including game canon information so heads up if you need to bypass this post to avoid spoilers)

Thoughts below the cut....

It appears they’re making Indonesia “Ground Zero”, I don’t know if this is a result of Indonesia having a surge of fungal infections within the last few years, or if their environment would be considered potentially hospitable for the cordyceps. There’s also the fact that in-game the cordyceps seemingly started in the U.S. before spreading worldwide.

I’m not quite understanding the physiology behind the mouth tentacles thing, but I’ve seen enough hentai that it’s creepy either way

There’s a running theme of butterflies surrounding the girls (Sarah and Ellie)

Ellie’s sarcasm is on-point again, Bella really did bring our precious babygirl to life on a level that makes me so happy

I have to wonder about Pedro having to do things like move furniture, considering his poor back

So not anything significant, but I really appreciate that the leaning building from the game was incorporated into the background shot. A little sad that they didn’t show them going through that building like in the game, but I guess it would’ve been an issue of set design costs/extra film time.

Ellie actively avoiding mentioning Riley (“Matter of fact, let’s just keep our histories to ourselves” ~ Joel in the game), so that figures

Okay they moved up the hotel scene where Ellie pretends to be checking in, originally this took place in Pittsburgh at a later point in the summer, not Boston. And it was AFTER the thing with Tess.

Joel and Ellie’s awkward conversation-turned-moment of bonding, and her asking about Joel/Tess? Joel shot that shit down so quick lol

So they’re basically saying that the infected only last for 2-months, but they’re still some that last for years. This sounds like the infection not only deteriorates the brain but maybe the body temperature is so high for so long that the body eventually burns out….?

The infected have a connection, kind of like the hive-mind situation in Stranger Things. In-game the infected would just spawn out of nowhere even if an area looks clear (it’s a game so that’s a normal thing), it seems that this was their way of bridging the gap of how a clear spot would suddenly become overrun. Games like TLOU and Left 4 Dead had what they call “event doors”, or pathways that when taken would suddenly trigger hordes

Clickers!!!! But seriously they did a good job with the acting during this scene, I’m wondering if they did a “zombie school” type thing, kind of like TWD.

“You can’t deny that view” - so glad they kept this, it’s such an important moment for Ellie because of [redacted]

So Tess name-dropping Frank is interesting, unless in-game Tess knew about Frank and just didn’t tell Joel (HIGHLY unlikely), because in-game Joel doesn’t even know Frank exists, let alone have any contact with him specifically

Annie Wersching does a really good job of capturing Tess’ nuances, and the part where she’s foreshadowing her infection by acting defensive? Love it

Tess/Joel’s relationship being kind of one-sided isn’t much of a surprise. I’d imagine Joel prefers not to get romantically close to people because of past trauma

So the hive-mind connections trigger a horde, forcing Tess to sacrifice herself. In the game the military shows up and she holds them off while Joel/Ellie escape through the capitol building. To me the horde makes more sense because I never quite understood why the military suddenly went on a field trip outside of the QZ to coordinate an attack on a couple runaways when they could easily have left them to their fate with the infected and not waste time/supplies (same thing applies if they were going after the Fireflies outside of the QZ)

I’m enjoying the unfocused camera shots of the infected, it helps to leave some things to the imagination and makes it more scary/intense

The mouth-tentacles “kiss of death” thing is weird. It’s like the infected are coherent enough to want to actively spread the infection instead of just eating people. I’m also getting the impression that, kind of like in World War Z, they can sense when someone else is infected.

Definitely enjoyed this episode, the acting was really good and the story is moving a bit faster now. Still a lot of ground to cover because of [redacted]

Endure and survive!

#tlou #tlou spoilers #the last of us #the last of us series #pedro pascal #joel miller #ellie williams #bella ramsey #tess servopoulos #anna torv

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wizardingdiaries · 1 year

Text

🥀 angst | ☁️ fluff | ✨ faves | 🔥 smut

🪐 already on notes | 🍂 to be read

George Weasley

By georgie-weasley

Spontaneous ☁️ one | two 🍂 - You were rich, pretty, smart, and everything George wasn't. According to George, you were untouchable.

By littlelonelyone

Forget You 🍂 - After a shared kiss between Reader & George, it causes a strange rift in their friendship. Neither of them wanting to risk losing something they’ve always had.

By potter-imagines

Pink Love Potions 🍂 - Fred and George ask the reader to smell a love potion and when she can only associate the scent with George she refuses to tell them.

Library Confessions 🍂 - Some sort of best friends to lovers.

Sunday Morning 🍂 - George and Y/n have been dating for sometime now but hardly anyone in Hogwarts knows much about the couple.

By val-made-a-mistake

FIREWHISKEY. ☁️

By sergeantbuckybarnes

rumour has it 🍂 - You and George had a perfect relationship, but everything crumbles when you are told that he’s cheating on you.

mastermind ☁️ - You like Fred but he doesn’t seem to reciprocate your feelings, so you ask George to fake date you to get his twin's attention.

it’s definitely you 🍂 - George doesn’t have the courage to ask you out, so Fred gives him a hand, but things don’t go as planned.

forget me not 🍂 - Your parents aren’t very pleased when they find out you are dating George Weasley, so they decide to take the matter into their own hands.

sweet nothing 🍂 - You’ve had a crush on George for a while, but he doesn’t seem to notice you… until he does.

By sunrisefairy

red cheeks and sunsets 🍂🪐 - George has been pining over Y/N for far too long and Fred decides to give his twin a little push.

Chocolate ☁️✨🪐 - Y/N drunkenly confesses her feelings for George thinking it is actually Fred she’s talking to.

Love songs ☁️✨🪐 - Y/N and George realize they have feelings for each other, feelings you probably shouldn’t have for your best friend.

Sketches ☁️✨🪐 - Y/N likes drawing people. More specifically, she likes drawing George Weasley.

Cameras and crushes ☁️🪐 - Y/N is used to being a background character. But more recently she longed for someone to see her.

By helnjk

Sweater 🍂 - The 5 times George Weasley sees you in his sweater and the 1 time you get your own.

All I’ve Ever Known 🍂 - George finds her extremely intriguing, the way she spends her days drawing and creating art.

Stitching Together ☁️ - reader owns a shop in diagon alley and one day they walk into WWW and George knocks over a whole display, he is a complete SIMP & cannot compose himself.

By george-fabian-weasley

Shower Buddy ☁️🪐 - You asked him to join you in a shower, and it’s absolutely the best decision you ever did.

Smell Like Pink 🍂 - You tried to comfort George as the poor boy had a rough day, and what better way to do it than washing his hair?

By hxlyhead-harpies

The Only Exception 🍂 - (Y/n) swears that she will never fall in love. George is determined to change that.

Don’t Call Me Kid 🍂 - When her soulmate’s name appears on her wrist on her twentieth birthday, (Y/n)’s heart stings with betrayal when she finds out who it is.

By weasleydream

Grenade 🍂 - “I would rather be hurt and be with you than be okay without you”

By iwritesiriusly

When Everything Changes 🍂

Slow Dancing 🍂 - Dancing in the rain with Georgie.

By awritingtree

A Dance 🍂 - A telling of George and Y/N’s first date, The Yule Ball.

Never Let Go of You 🍂 - Y/N is absolutely gutted to find her boyfriend, George Weasley, come back to the Burrow with a missing ear, bloodied and unconscious.

By willowbleedsonpaper

Three Means Love ☁️✨ - Squeeze three times for I love you.

By coffee--writes

Two Lonely Fools 🍂 - In which, George Weasley and Y/N Potter are two lonely fools brought together by something as cliché as a ball.

The Art of Sneaking Around 🍂 - In which, your boyfriend, George Weasley convinces you to sneak out with him.

By selenes-sun

Not Again 🍂 - “I can’t keep kissing strangers and pretending that they’re you.”

By heloisedaphnebrightmore

Fools in love 🍂 - Your best friend, George has been gone for 3 months, but when he finally decides to come back, you welcome him in a warm embrace which none of you can step away from.

By iliveiloveiwrite

Teas and Tisanes 🍂 - nightmares, panic attacks, and fluff.

Love is all you need 🍂 - “Take my bed for the night. I’ll sleep on the couch.”

Pick Me, Choose Me, Want Me 🍂 - angst with a happy ending, unrequited love?

Falling 🍂 - A timeline of your love for George Weasley.

Meant To Be ☁️✨ - he asks her to teach him to dance for the yule ball, but then they fall in love.

Sleepy Cuddles 🍂

Awful Days Lead to Better Nights 🍂 - “Can I stay with you tonight?”

To Comfort and Heal 🍂 - don't speak, just... kiss me.

#mine

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pennylanefics · 2 years

Text

BLURB EVENT TIME!! i am free from college, i officially have a bachelor of arts in scriptwriting and a minor in film studies!! so to celebrate having all the time in the world on my hands, why not do a blurb event??

rules:

choose up to 2 prompts (can be one or two total) or send in your own, for one character. no descriptions please. also, please send the number, and not the sentence.

if you see one has been done for the person you want, select another number or person.

regarding that, if you send a number that has been sent in that i haven't done yet (meaning it's been requested but i haven't posted it when you send yours) i will either choose the other prompt you selected or ask that you send another, if you only sent one.

there are 50 prompts, so please be diverse in selecting them. if you see one number has been sent in a lot, for a few different characters, please choose differently.

when it gets to the point where i am not able to think of much for the number and it has been requested for at least 3 characters, i will cross it out from the list.

requests will remain open until i say so!

some of these are from smut prompt lists, but i will not be writing smut. steamy and suggestive, yes, but no smut.

people to request for:

josh kiszka

danny wagner

patrick verona

derek hale

paul lahote

jacob black

embry call

seth clearwater

prompts:

“you’re so important to me.”

“i know you’re mad at me, but will a kiss change your mind?”

“god, i miss you so much.”

“i can’t believe you’re all mine.”

“i hate you.”

“i had a nightmare about you and wanted to make sure you were okay.”

“why are you pushing me away?”

“no, don’t cry, i hate when you cry.”

“you’re perfect to me.”

“your eyes are so beautiful.”

“your lips are so soft. i could kiss you all day.”

“i think i might be falling in love with you.”

“no no, it’s alright, come here.”

“no, please, don’t leave.”

“are you jealous?”

“we need to talk.”

“spend the night with me.”

“this is a one time thing.”

“each of my thoughts about you are improper.”

“don’t give me that look.”

“i’ve never done this before.”

“would you shut up and kiss me already.”

“the first one to make a noise loses.”

“tell me what you want.”

“we’re not just friends and you fucking know that!”

“friends don’t do this kind of shit.”

“i really want to kiss you right now.”

“no one can ever find out about this.”

“let’s go somewhere a little more private.”

“i like you a lot. i just thought you should know.”

“please, just go.”

“say it one more time.”

“please just talk to me about it.”

“i would do anything for you.”

“does he know about the baby?”

“i love you and i am terrified.”

“you’re trembling.”

“i’m not going anywhere.”

“i can’t keep kissing strangers and pretending that they’re you.”

“you’ve thought about this, haven’t you?”

“we need to talk about what happened last night.”

“how much of that did you hear?”

“i should have told you a long time ago.”

“i tried to move on, but there’s a problem. they’re not you.”

“i don’t remember a fight or a reason, so what happened? why did we break up?”

“i love being with you like this.”

“come to bed. i can’t sleep without you next to me.”

“he was totally checking you out!”

“what is this? between us, i mean?”

“what do you mean by that?”

38 notes · View notes

applcrumbl · 2 years

Text

Prompt List

incase you want a little inspo...

Dialogue

“For fuck’s sake, guys! We’re NOT dating”

“You’re still the same person I fell in love with″

“Why would you prank me with something like that?!””

“I’m not gonna lie, I’m really turned on by that”

“You knew how important this was for me!”

“What did you do?”

“Oh shut the fuck up”

“Forget it, you’re not even worth it”

“Say that one more time and you’re done”

“Why? Why did you leave?”

“How could you hide something like that from me!”

“Now you wanna talk? Well fuck you”

“Just one drink”

“Hello? We’re in the middle of something”

“Oh how cute! You actually think I give a fuck”

“This means nothing”

“Don’t do it, please”

“This is so stupid” “and yet, you’re still here”

“So this was all a lie?”

“Hold up, you what?”

“I can do whatever I want, we’re not dating, remember?”

“You moved on, so did I”

“I can’t keep doing this

“Just be honest with me!”

“I’m not gonna sit pretty and wait until they break your heart”

“Just one more night, please baby”

“I wanna go home”

“Keep talking all you want but you can’t deny that you want me as much as I want you”

“You broke my nose!”

“You’re not an angel either, angel”

“Let’s face it! I’m just one of your many booty calls!”

“You’re nothing like them

“Why are you helping me?”

“You have to leave right now”

“You’re in love with her/him/them”

“You’re never letting that go, are you?”

“Love is overrated”

“I’ve missed this”

“How long has it been since you’ve slept?

“It’s too cold! Come back!”

“I’m not going to stop poking you until you give me some attention”

“I think I’m in love with you and I’m terrified.”

“You’ve thought about this, haven’t you?”

“To be honest, I’m choosing not to listen”

“Don’t look at me. I’m a mess”

“I like you a lot. I just thought you should know”

“Can I tell you a secret? I can’t stop thinking about you.”

“I’m scared. What if someone finds out about us?”

Tthe last person who should be behind a wheel is you.”

“I don’t want to discuss my sexuality with you.”

“Excuse me. I have to go make a scene.”

“It’s okay. I understand. You can leave. They all do.”

“I love you.” “Why?”

“I remember practising how to ask you out in the mirror”

“I can’t believe I got the first date, let alone a year.

“You don’t mean that”

“Will you marry me?”

“They said what to you?? I’ll kill ‘em”

“I’ll pick up the check,” “we have a joint bank account?” “you’re welcome”

“say it again”

“I still remember the way you taste”

“are you really taking his side right now?”

“I’m not going to get sick baby, just let me hold you,”

“I can’t keep kissing strangers and pretending that they’re you!”

“I need a place to stay”

“Shut up and just kiss me already”

“Are you kidding me right now?”

“She/He/They’re a keeper”

“Don’t listen to them, okay?”

“Please don’t leave me”

“How could you?”

“Are you cold?”

“Are you checking me out?”

“Eyes up here pal”

“You’re beautiful”

“I can’t help it”

“I’m gonna hit ‘em with my car”

“Don’t follow me”

“You’re killing me”

“Let me go”

“Kiss it better?”

“Don’t shut me out”

“Is that my shirt?”

“Warm me up?”

“If you don’t stop, we’re gonna have a problem”

“Okay this is ridiculous”

“Dance with me, darling?”

“Can you even drive?”

“Your lips are soft”

“Are you high?”

"Why did you buy that?!"

Scenario/Tropes

Friends to Lovers

Enemies to Lovers

NSFW Alphabet

Only One Bed

Mutual Pining

You’re the sibling of their Best Friend

Near-Death Scenario

Established Relationship

Firsts (kiss, sex, argument)

Games (spin the bottle, would you rather etc.)

How you Met

Drunken Confessions / Accidental Confessions

Fake Relationship

Types of Sex (car, phone, public etc.)

Soulmate!AU

Modern!AU

Historical!AU

Love Triangle

Miscommunication

Pregnancy

aaand, of course you can make up something of your own!

happy writing, and happy reading!

#prompt list #writing

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sagesolsticewrites · 2 years

Text

✨Elvis (2022) Masterlist✨

Austin Butler:

• Trouble - A cast outing after filming Austin's "Trouble" performance prompts you to finally confess your feelings.

• Baby - Austin knows exactly how much you like the Elvis voice he’s learned… and has figured out how to use it to his advantage

• The Wonder of You - Austin needs some assistance in re-dyeing his hair while filming is shut down

• Take My Hand - a lil slow dance in the kitchen blurb as Austin arrives home from set

• New Look - Austin arrives home from prepping for “Elvis” and he looks… a little different

• Now or Never - Cast as Priscilla Presley, a romance blossoms between you and Austin on set

• Breathe - Austin’s protective side comes out when paparazzi take it a step too far

• Way Down - You and Austin spend some time in the pool on your vacation (this gets a lil steamy, minors please dni!! 18+ only here kiddos)

• Firsts - The first big interview of your career is with Austin Butler, star of the new Elvis movie. He’s staring at you like that because he’s just being nice about your first interview, right? (gn!reader)

• Drawl - Austin needs some help getting back to himself after Elvis. Luckily, his best friend is here to help him out!

• Romance Will Reign Supreme - Austin takes his shy s/o along on a cast trip to Disneyland. Fluff ensues.

• “i could have missed the pain, but i’d have had to miss the dance” - A song reminds you of past relationship with Austin (angst!!)

• Scaredy Cat (vampire!Austin) - your boyfriend takes you to a haunted house on Halloween

• Cake & Dragons (asexual!gn!reader) - Your boyfriend goes above and beyond to help you celebrate Ace Week <3

• Diner Date - Just a sweet little blurb about Austin taking you out for a date at a 50s diner (inspired by those bts pics we got from Hugh Stewart)

• Today Was A Fairytale - You decide to surprise your boyfriend in Australia for your first Valentine’s Day ❤️

• touchstarved - reader is very touchstarved while Austin is away filming in Australia

• Midnights Series(?) (not technically a series, more of just a collection of fics inspired by Midnights)

Lavender Haze - tba

Sweet Nothing - you serve as a sweet domestic escape for Austin when the fame gets too much

Snow On The Beach - tba

Labyrinth/Glitch - tba

Adam Dunn:

• Bonfire - Adam invites the cast of Elvis over for a bonfire night after filming wraps. You've developed a giant crush on him over the course of the movie as you portrayed Bill’s wife, because of course. Circumstances arise in which your feelings for each other are finally revealed, all thanks to a shared hoodie.

Polyam Fics!

• Tell The World I’m Yours (Austin x Olivia x Reader) - Your partners have been a little distant lately, and you’re even more worried when it seems like they forget your birthday… but they end up having a very sweet surprise for you ☺️💕

Elvis (2022 movie version):

• Reunion Series

Reunion - Elvis reunites with a childhood sweetheart from Tupelo

Renew - A funeral, the service, and new beginnings

Rebirth - A wedding, and a lil thing called the ‘68 special ;)

Release - It might be time to get out from under the Colonel’s thumb…

• Good Luck Charm - your boyfriend learns about the success of his first record while out celebrating your birthday

• Take A Break - Elvis gets sick after all the traveling to his shows, and it’s up to you and his mama to help him get better

• “i can’t keep kissing strangers, pretending they’re you” - 12 years ago, Elvis chose his career over you. What happens when he shows up at your door asking for a second chance?

• Taking Care of Business You - You wake up with a cold and you’re absolutely miserable… you have to miss a date with Elvis on top of that. Luckily, your boyfriend comes to your rescue.

Steve Binder

• Guitar Man - It’s love at first sight when your childhood friend Elvis asks you to be a part of his comeback special. But Steve Binder, director extraordinaire, couldn’t possibly feel the same way… right?

• Guitar Man Part 2 - You and Steve go on your first date, and deal with being an official item on set.

Scotty Moore

• Blue Moon Boy - Your boyfriend Scotty gets nervous before a show. Good thing you’re there to help him 🥰

Dixie Locke

• It’s Nice To Have A Friend - Your childhood friend Dixie comes to you for comfort after Elvis breaks up with her at prom. In the months after, you get to spend more and more time together, and you discover something new about your feelings towards her. Better keep that under wraps, it’s not like she’ll ever feel the same… right?

Polyam Fics!

• A Night to Remember (Austin!Elvis x Dixie x Reader) - Your childhood friend Dixie Locke has started dating Elvis Presley, and you couldn’t be happier for her. And you’re absolutely looking forward to going on tour with them! You definitely won’t develop feelings for your best friend on top of having feelings for her boyfriend. There’s no way that can end happily… right?

Misc.

• happier series - Bill and Scotty’s breakup has rattled the dynamic of the Blue Moon Boys, and it’s made all the worse with the introduction of you, Scotty’s new girlfriend. This story can go one of two ways… take your pick!

the happy ending

the unhappy ending

• right where you left me (Elvis x Dixie angst) - the breakup at prom, from Dixie’s point of view, and everything that comes after

• find all of my drabbles here!

Send requests if you’d like (no smut please!) Unfortunately I can’t guarantee that I’ll write them all but I’d love to hear what y’all’d like to read!

#austin butler #elvis (2022)#austin butler fic #austin butler x reader #austin butler imagine #elvis 2022 #elvis biopic #elvis baz luhrmann #austin butler fanfiction #austin butler fanfic #sage speaks #masterlist #my writing

798 notes · View notes

piedpiperslists · 2 years

Text

KTH: College / University AU [#-I]

List of all Taehyung fics under 'College / University' AU with titles starting with '#-I':

* ² - two shots s - contains smut sm - social media format

* Last updated: 30/04/2023

D R A B B L E S

[drabble] by 1kook friends to lovers Summary: Everyone knows he likes you; Taehyung knows everyone knows he likes you. Everyone knows Taehyung is madly, stupidly, crazily in love with you, except you.

[drabble] by 1kook artist!Taehyung

[drabble] by bangtaninink FWB Summary: “So! I accidentally called you the 'love of my life' today. Isn't that hilarious?”

[drabble] by hijoonie strangers to lovers Summary: “Fight me, you attractive stranger.”

[drabble] by hobibliophile established relationship Summary: “I’m very busy right now and you’re distracting me.”

[drabble] by hobibliophile established relationship Summary: “Oh, do that again.”

[drabble] by kidguk friends to lovers Summary: Being stuck together for a long period of time + “If I kissed you right now, what would you do?”

[drabble] by lavishedinjimin s badboy!Taehyung, PWP Summary: Bad boy Taehyung teaches reader how to blow.

[drabble] by lavishedinjimin s badboy!Taehyung, sheltered!reader, PWP

[drabble] by leviackermanscleaningbuddy Summary: “I haven’t laughed like this in years.” + “Can I kiss you?”

[drabble] by yukheii FWB

* Bad Decisions by 94hixtape s friends au, PWP Summary: Dry humping.

* Birthday by hobisbeautifulass established relationship

Bittersweet Smiles by yoonslore friends to lovers Summary: “We’re not just friends and you fucking know it.” + “Why are you so jealous?”

Caramel Macchiato by gukyi Summary: You never really paid attention to the talkative kid in your college lecture, but he’s paid attention to you.

Confessions of Love are Best Done Sober by honeymoonjin childhood friends to lovers Summary: “I can’t keep kissing strangers and pretending that they’re you.” “Prove it.”

* Golden Hour by breadoffoxy friends to lovers Summary: You said you would help Taehyung out with his photography homework, but being his model and having his complete focus is just too much.

Gorgeous by seokth campus heartthrob!Taehyung Summary: There’s nothing I hate more than what I can’t have. You are so gorgeous, it makes me so mad.

* “Guess we’re sharing that twin bed.” by kpopfanfictrash

“I saved a piece for you.” by yukheii established relationship

“It was always you” by v-hope friends to lovers

O N E S H O T S

10 Muses by sketchguk s wc~9k / photographer!Taehyung, artist!reader Summary: Harboring an innocent crush on Taehyung isn’t easy when you’re jealous of his natural talent for photography, and you’re struggling with artist’s block.

4AM Rendezvous by taehyung-the-baehyung s wc~5.5k / PWP Summary: It’s Thursday night, and that only means one thing for university students– thirsty Thursday. And everyone knows beta tau sigma has the best jungle juice on campus…

All That is Gold by winetae s wc~11.2k / roommates au Summary: As a college student struggling to make ends meet, Taehyung resorts to a less than ethical method to satisfy his appetite for expensive treats. The last thing he wants is for you to find out how he acquires the Gucci in his closet… however this proves to be difficult when you are his roommate.

Ask Me Out by gashinabts s wc~5k / friends to lovers Summary: You and Taehyung get in a fight because you were allegedly cheating, the only problem is, who are you dating and who are you cheating on.

Bibliothèque by joonbird s wc~15k / rivals to lovers Summary: “You are at the very top of your college cohort, an A grade student on the fast track to a life of success. You know the answers to everything, or at least you think you do. That is until you meet quirky genius Kim Taehyung.”

Can't Fake a Feeling by bubmyg wc~12.4k / friends to lovers, fake dating Summary: Fake dating your best friend should be easy when you’re seemingly in possession of the only pair of pants on campus he’s never tried to get in or there’s a fake rule that’s broken.

Devil on Your Shoulder [AO3] by kkulfm-2 s wc~6.4k / ft PJM, boyfriend!Jimin, boyfriend!Taehyung Summary: You’re supposed to go to a Halloween party but your boyfriends change plans—and when the angel and devil looking over your shoulder both agree, who are you to resist temptation?

Dimple by ropeseok wc~4.7k Summary: Admitting his feelings is already hard enough for Taehyung - only made worse each time you see one another, sweet smiles and pleasant talk. You thought you knew what you were doing - he certainly does not. Coaxing feelings out becomes easier for you, only when it becomes harder for him.

Drawing Darcy by kpopfanfictrash wc~3k / friends to lovers Summary: Tae loves taking random photos of you secretly, and one day when you’re looking through his phone you find out

Ego: Hoe Chronicles by suga-kookiemonster s wc~4.3k / fuckboy au, PWP Summary: He stepped closer again, and though the hairs at the back of your neck rose in warning, you didn’t move back, allowing him to negate the space between you. Merely craning your head so that you could look him solidly in the eye. “Looks like you still don’t understand who you’re talking to,” he murmured. “Should I teach you?”

Exchanging Heat by jinfizz s wc~25.1k / roommates au Summary: When your roommate drops out right before the end of the semester and leaves you high and dry for next month’s rent, you’re forced to turn to craigslist to find an absolute stranger to save you from financial ruin. The shy Korean exchange student you find to replace her seems nice enough despite the language barrier, but what will happen when the heat cuts off one fateful evening, and you’re forced to turn to each other for warmth? Alternatively: “I want to sleep with you.” ‘You what?”

Falling, Falling, Gone by johobi wc~5.8k / friends to lovers Summary: Taehyung. Captain of the soccer team. Master of your heart. You’ll never tell him for fear of rejection. So why the fuck are you about to do it in front of dozens of his peers?

Flawless by wtf-yoongi wc~3k / friends to lovers Summary: You’ve lost count of how many notes you’ve left in between Tae’s textbooks, from the silliest to the most profound, loving ones. And yet, even after all these months, Taehyung doesn’t seem to have noticed any of them.

Four Weeks by gukyi wc~20k / enemies to lovers, roommates au Summary: Four weeks. That’s how long you’re trapped on campus after missing your flight home because of a grossly overtime final. And as you’re walking around your empty campus, thinking that you could sink no lower, you find yourself alone in the art building with a certain freshman-year-dorm-neighbor from hell, and he’s got an offer that you don’t think you can refuse: he’s staying on campus this winter break as well, and he’s happy to let you live with him. Or, four weeks is all it takes to fall in love.

Get You the Moon by bymoonchild s wc~19.6k / enemies to lovers Summary: Life has its ways of fucking with you, but you know you’ve hit 50 feet below rock bottom after being tasked to do a profile feature on Kim Taehyung, the varsity football captain, for your school newspaper. Pure torment awaits you, but this is alongside glassy eyes, pink cheeks and conflicted feelings that you’ve never dared to imagine with the likes of the devil incarnate.

Heart Strung Symphonies by inkedtae s wc~12.6k / opera singer!Taehyung, pianist!reader Summary: He plucks your heart strings with soulful symphonies, but professional obligations weight heavier than emotional desires. Your friends agree; why can’t he?

Home for the Holidays by triptaech s wc~5k / resident assistant!Taehyung Summary: Winter was cold and lonely, but thankfully he received a Christmas miracle.

Hot Boy Summer by taegularities s wc~2.6k / fuckboy!Taehyung, PWP Summary: Hot boy summer has arrived and Taehyung is taking this term way too seriously.

Infamous by sugaxjpg s wc~12.5k / fuckboy au Summary: You would rather die than to have someone figure out about your sexual escapades with Local Fuckboy, Kim Taehyung. It was an ego thing.

T W O S H O T S / S E R I E S

Bread Cheeks by tteokggukk sm enemies to lovers Summary: Kim Taehyung is so painfully cliché. Popular, godly looks, a casanova reputation, and yet adored by everyone. Everyone but you, of course. He knew your secret and it allowed him to constantly have his way with you. With your banter-laced exchanges, everyone knew you two did not get along. But what happens when you find out that this “bad boy” is secretly a cinnamon roll? Even better, a bad boy who bakes them.

Buzzed ² by junqkook s friends to lovers Summary: Maybe ordering a vibrator and letting your best friend open your mail wasn’t such a great idea.

Cougar ² by boymeetsweevil s Summary: …Guys like him give off two very conflicting vibes. The first says ‘wow, look at this handsome young man, I hope my kids are that beautiful’. The second says, ‘wow, I want to have his kids’.

Crossfire by btsmosphere strangers to lovers, gang au Summary: The night your life blew up sent you on a collision course with the campus bad boy, Kim Taehyung. Though you were well aware of his reputation, it was his doorstep you ran to when you were bleeding with nowhere to go.

Good Girls Go Bad by jkstompers s bad boy!Taehyung Summary: You’re tired of being seen as a nice, sweet girl— so you ask help from the notorious Kim Taehyung, to help your good girl go bad.

Insomnia | Delirious | Just Relax, Dummy | Surprise by hobiwonder s fuckboy!Taehyung, nerd!reader Summary: You can’t sleep.

#kth list #taehyung fic

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nxttheendxfthestxry · 2 years

Text

Flashback Solo Para: If “Happy Ever After” Did Exist... (Dove)

1906. A 6-year-old Camille Whiterose is lost and scared.

The child wanders through the fairground, crying, crying and crying until her eyes are swimming with tears and she can’t even see two feet in front of her, much less peer up at the adults around her and spot her own parents.

A hand on her back, she hears someone kneel down. “Shh, shh, hey, it’s okay, look at me, you’re okay, I need you to look at me.”

But though she tries, Camille can’t see enough through her tears and can’t speak for her sobs. After a minute of trying, he sighs and shakes his head. “Okay. Come on, little dove, let’s find your parents.”

He reaches down and takes her hand, walking with her, calling out to the crowd until her parents find them, rushing to her quickly and hugging her tightly. In the meantime, her tears had subsided a bit, and she’d looked up at the stranger to get a proper look at him.

When she looks up to thank him when she’s safely in her mother’s arms, he’s gone. Camille wonders how a person could disappear so quickly. But she’s grateful to him nonetheless, for helping her find her parents again.

---------- // ----------

In spring 1921, Camille was married to Robert Faulke, and happily so. It was in early spring 1923 that she’d announce to her family that she was expecting their first child. And it was two weeks after that she’d meet the strange woman who’d completely turn her world upside down.

Rebekah invited her out so subtly to a local speakeasy, and she’d turned the other down initially. But Rebekah had fixed her with a gaze and said something and the next thing Camille knew, she was agreeing to join the other instead.

Which she did have to question to herself as she was meeting Rebekah in town, but she said nothing, trying to look forward to making a new friend. When they eventually arrived, Rebekah said they would have to wait on a “friend” of hers, and in the meantime the two got to know each other. Camille had just finished telling her about her coming child when the friend joined them--

“You,” Camille breathes in shock, looking at him, standing slowly to properly see him. “You-- you returned me to my parents when I was a little girl. I was lost at this fair, you, you helped me find them!”

He blinks, silently taking her in, placing her and asking, “Little dove?”

She nods, clasping a hand over her mouth. “I don’t understand. That was-- that was over a decade ago. I was six. You haven’t... you haven’t aged!”

“Maybe you should sit,” Rebekah suddenly says, standing and glancing between them. “Both of you. Start from the beginning.”

“There’s not much more to the story,” he answers her, but slowly the other two sit, and Camille does, too, though she still has so many questions. “I saw a child walking around crying for her parents, and I helped her find them.”

“But, but you haven’t--”

He sighs, turning to Rebekah and shrugging, motioning to her. She shakes her head at him, frowning. “She’s expecting a baby, Stefan. I won’t now. We won’t now. I think it’d be better if we told her the truth.”

“Won’t what?” Camille frowns, annoyed that they’re talking about her like she’s not right there.

Rebekah looks at her, as if reminded she was there and sizing her up for a moment before commenting, “Now, you can’t go telling people about this if we do tell you.”

And Camille is honestly still reeling from what they’d told her when she does come home, kissing Robert’s cheek. “Sorry. She ended up keeping me much later than I expected.”

“Are you all right?” He catches her before she can rush back past him, turning her head gently to meet his eyes. “You look rattled.”

She reaches up, resting her hand on his. “I guess I was just in a rush to get home. I missed you.”

He smiles, bringing both hands to her face and then leaning in and kissing her. She melts slightly, almost for a moment forgetting what she’d learned.

That the man who’d saved her, and her new... friend?... were vampires.

But she can’t forget forever, even if she can put on a mask and pretend things are fine for Robert. The last thing she needs is him worrying about the world they’re bringing their baby into. So she tries to smile at him and forget everything is wrong when he pulls back from her.

She meets up with Stefan and Rebekah a few more times, but when their usual spot is closed down after a raid (and in visiting the scene she’d found a little thing that most wouldn’t know to even notice, and it led her to realize that the police had come searching for vampires), she doesn’t hear from either again.

Maybe it’s just as well. With her baby due soon, she couldn’t be caught up in their world. Stefan... she knew there was a lot of danger with him. Rebekah seemed to keep him at bay, but... she couldn’t risk it. Even if some part of her naturally trusted him, because of what he did for her all those years ago.

“What do you want?” She asks Robert idly over breakfast, resting a hand on her stomach. “The baby, I mean.”

He glances up from his paper and laughs. “At this point, Camille, I’d be happy no matter what. I know you want your little girl. If that’s what would make you happiest, darling, then I would love nothing more than for our first to be a daughter.”

She smiles absently and nods. “I was thinking Alice, or Elizabeth, for a little girl. So was Florence. She and I have a deal that whoever gives birth first gets one, and the other one gets whichever’s left.”

“Florence, which one was she again?”

“She was the bridesmaid your uncle tripped on her way down the aisle. She’s been coming by since Rebekah moved away. Sharing baby clothes patterns and the like.”

That’s what she was telling him. That Rebekah had moved away. It was much, much easier to tell him that. Rather than telling him she had no idea what state she might be in, that the police had raided looking for her and her friend Stefan, because they were--

She shuts that door abruptly in her head. “And for a boy, I’d like Jack or Thomas. But that, of course, I’d leave up to you.”

He smiles at her, glancing to the clock and getting up. “I like all of those names. We can settle when we see our baby properly. We can’t be that far away now, can we?”

“No, no we aren’t,” Camille smiles with a small laugh, gently trying to push herself to stand to meet him.

He holds up his hands. “No, no, don’t get up for me,” and he walks to her, leaning down and kissing her gently. When he pulls back, there’s the sparkle in his eyes she’d fallen so deeply in love with. “Don’t hurt yourself. Rest, for the baby, all right?”

“All right,” she nods, smiling as she holds his gaze. “I will, as long as you promise me you’ll come home safe.”

“I promise. I’ll see you tonight.”

He presses another gentle kiss to her head before making his way out.

They’re a bit rebellious in the face of tradition, her and Robert. He doesn’t hold a lot of the expectations of her she knows many men have of their wives. She wore a blue dress for their wedding, and her father hadn’t escorted her down the aisle.

So while her parents weren’t happy, they weren’t surprised either when they made the decision to have their child in a hospital instead of at home. So when she’d gone into labor, her parents had immediately volunteered to drive the pair to the hospital.

It’s funny how fuzzy the accident is to her, to this day. One minute they’re en route as fast as they can to the hospital. The next thing she remembers, their car is facing the wrong direction, and the front is smashed up.

Her parents are crushed. Literally. She manages to turn her head from them to where Robert had been beside her-- and he’s not there. He’s several feet away, outside of the car. Not moving. She gasps in agonizing pain as she tries to pull herself out of the wreck. “Robert--”

She chokes on the word, coughing. The baby is still moving. She can feel it. She must have been positioned just right, the seats protected them for the largest part. But she’s still pretty hurt. Camille pushes herself out of the car, but falls to the pavement, crying out, unable to push herself further. “Rob--!”

There’s a rush, like a breeze or motion, but she’s suddenly aware of a figure standing over her. She focuses her dizzy vision. “Stefan?”

“Easy, little dove,” he says softly, though she can tell something’s wrong with him. He seems uncomfortable, somehow. It dawns on her how bloody their scene must be. But Stefan sits her up. She’s aware of him biting his own wrist, cutting through it. “Here...”

“Wh--” she coughs hard, squinting. “What are you doing?”

He holds his wrist up to her mouth. “Vampire blood can heal you. As long as you don’t die with it in your system, it’ll pass through harmlessly in 24 hours. Let me help you.”

That little part of her, that had always firmly trusted him, because he was the man who’d helped her all those years ago as a child, immediately agrees. And she’s not sure she’s strong enough to argue with it, nodding and letting him bring his wrist to her mouth, weakly drinking, wrinkling her nose at the taste.

She leans her head back a bit, gasping as a contraction hits, and his eyes widen. Camille laughs, gripping his other hand. “Contraction. We were going to the hospital.”

“Well, then that’s where we’re heading,” he remarks, but she holds up a hand to him.

“Wait. Rob-- Robert, my husband, you-- you have to help him, Stefan, Stefan please--”

He looks to where she indicates, and she feels him flinch. “Camille...”

“No,” she whimpers, face falling. “No, no, no, Stefan, he can’t be, he’s not, please, help him, help him--”

But he picks her up and speeds them to the hospital instead. She feels herself getting sick. She can’t accept it. It can’t be real.

Not this.

The memory of her child’s birth couldn’t be clearer. Remembering that was easy. But it was after that it got blurry. She remembers the doctor saying something about how much blood she was losing. All she truly remembers was hearing the baby’s cry before the world went dark.

When she next woke with a gasp, she wasn’t anywhere that was even... familiar, to her. Stefan looks up from where he is, rushing immediately to her side. “Camille. How are you feeling?”

She frowns, looking at him, looking around, trying desperately to find something familiar to her. Anything. But nothing looks remotely...

Stefan turns her head back to him, insistent. “Camille. How are you feeling?”

She frowns, processing. The hospital comes back to her, slowly.

And her heart drops. “Stefan... I’m, am I--?”

He sighs, nodding. “You died, you’re dead. I had to compel my way back to get you and sneak you out. We’re somewhere safe.”

“So I’m...?”

“No, not yet,” he answers. “You died with my blood in your system, so you’re back for now. But if you don’t drink from anyone... you’ll die again. For good. You won’t turn if you stay away from it.”

“My baby,” she says suddenly, grabbing his arms. “Stefan, the baby, what happened to the baby?”

“I don’t know,” he answers her, not trying to break her grip even when it tightens. “Camille, they wouldn’t tell me anything. I told them I was a friend. I wasn’t family, I wasn’t your husband, I couldn’t do anything. I was more worried about getting you out of there.”

She nods, thinking, frowning. She didn’t know how long she had, and honestly, she didn’t intend to ask. She had a feeling it’d take longer than what she had to find out about the baby.

So she had to make the hard choice. Robert couldn’t take their baby, her parents were gone, her brothers scattered so far across the states they probably had no idea she’d gone into labor...

It took time to get all the relevant affairs settled. Getting a ring so she could be out in the sun was a much harder ordeal than she cared for. But it was settled and she twists the ring a bit as she walks into the hospital she’d died in.

The nurse at reception didn’t even take a second glance at her, which was good. “Can I help you?”

“I hope so,” she laughs, swallowing the lump in her throat. “My cousin, Camille Faulke, she... I was told by a friend of hers that she had a baby here and came as soon as I could. I heard she didn’t make it through the birth, and I was going to collect the baby.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry,” the nurse reaches up and takes her hands. “I’ll look into it. What was your name, dear?”

Shit! She’s quick to come up with an answer. “Dove. Dove Salvatore.”

She nods. “Camille Faulke, you said? Can you spell that for me?”

One spelling later, the nurse was off to find the file and get her in touch with the right people.

Dove fidgets more with her ring, careful to not even nudge it off, but spinning it. She had to see her baby. She had to hold the poor thing.

Robert, she’d decided for a boy. Robert for sure. If it was a girl... she didn’t know, but she’d come up with something.

The nurse returns with a doctor, who gasps when he sees her. “By God...”

“My cousin and I looked alike,” she says quickly, but she needs him to truly believe it, catching his wrist and holding his gaze, growing more insistent. “People usually think we could be sisters. It’s absolutely normal that you mistook me for Camille, but I’m not her.”

“You’re not her,” he repeats in a slight daze, before quickly refocusing, nodding and straightening himself up, clearing his throat. “Sorry for the confusion. You’re the cousin of Camille Faulke?”

“Yes, doctor,” she smiles, releasing his wrist. “Dove Salvatore. I came as soon as I could. I was hoping to collect the baby.”

“I’m sorry, I wish I had better news for you,” and his tone is so extremely apologetic she can feel her heart sink. “It was already adopted away. Don’t have a lot of room to hold onto the thing while we look for next of kin. If you’d contacted us sooner...”

“How could I have when I was in transit here?” Dove straightens up, infuriated. They’d sent her baby away?! The way the doctor spoke about it, so callously, like it didn’t mean anything--

She forces herself to calm down. It wouldn’t do her any good to lose control in a hospital in the middle of the day. “Thank you, doctor. I can understand the bind this situation put you in. If any information comes up,” she hands him a slip with the phone number of the Salvatore home on it, “Please reach out. This is for my cousin’s friend’s residence, the one who brought her in that night. He’ll be in touch with me.”

“Of course, Miss Salvatore,” he answers with a kind smile. Still, Dove is burning with rage at him. She needs to get out of here now while she can still convince herself to go.

If she had it her way, Dove would already be out looking for her baby. But Stefan annoyingly insisted she needed to stay and adjust more. She wasn’t sure what made him the authority on the matter. She knew for a fact he was still learning to control himself after going over the edge and being in what she now knew what was being referred to as a “ripper” phase.

Quickly, though, Dove would learn Stefan was far, far away from being the annoying one.

One day, she came downstairs to find a strange guy casually propped on the couch. “Who are you?”

He looks up and apparently his ever so polite reaction to someone who lives in the house you’re randomly in is to blur at them and slam them against a wall with a vamp-ed out face.

She, however, manages to stay unruffled, the veins extending down her neck and eyes turning as she snaps back. “Not so special; I can do that too. Question remains.”

He glares but finally lets her go. “Damon Salvatore. What, did my brother not mention me? I’m hurt.”

Brother? Stefan had a brother? Dove frowns and crosses her arms. “He didn’t. Am I supposed to just believe you?”

“Damon, you can’t just leave kids on the lawn, the neighbors will call the cops again,” Stefan is remarking crossly as he walks into the room, raising an eyebrow. “I see you met Dove.”

Dove. She’d told him at some point she was just going to go by “Dove” now, but it was still jarring to hear it. She smooths out her clothes and goes to Stefan. “I guess that means he’s telling the truth, then.” She pauses. “Kids on the lawn?”

Damon had gone off in the direction of the front door, where Stefan had come from. He’s followed by a girl who looks to be very close to her age. Raising an eyebrow, Dove glances back to Stefan, who gestures to her vaguely. “Alongside my brother, you also have the pleasure--” his tone disagrees with his words-- “of meeting Andromeda.”

She nods quietly, raising an eyebrow a bit. New faces. New names. A new life. Dove didn’t think she could go back to Camille’s world anyways. Not really. So she supposed she might try and settle into this.

Fitful sleep was a given for her these days, it seemed. Dove was out searching for her child, who’d be about nine years old now. It was impossible to track anything down. She was running up on dead end after dead end. It was honestly stupid to try, but here she was.

She was in a motel for the night, trying to sleep. And she was, but her dreams...

Robert. The face she’d never forget, the way he’d hold her face when checking on her wellbeing, especially if she seemed worried. Promising they’d tackle any challenges together.

She was dreaming, she knew it, but she couldn’t help but rush to his arms when she saw him, reaching out to hold him. His hands come to her face. “It’s all right, darling. It’s all right,” he says softly, and he kisses her softly.

It’s like she can’t hold him tight enough. “Robert-- I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry.”

He shushes her softly and shakes his head. “Camille, you didn’t have a choice. It’s not your fault this happened. None of it.”

She sobs into his arms, holding him, and for a moment, it’s almost real.

Almost... and she wakes up crying, clutching a pillow to her stomach, and a part of her breaks.

Auradon. Whatever the hell that was supposed to mean, it was a thing now. Of course, the Salvatore clan kept their heads thoroughly down. Dove had popped in and out of Mystic Falls through the years, kept up on what was going on. Elena was... all right. She didn’t particularly care one way or another how that situation was going, though she was happily brought in on occasions to help pick a fight with Katherine.

Mostly, Dove stayed out of town. She didn’t, however, ignore the news.

And while humanity didn’t take notice, she certainly did when Stefan told her about the king of Auradon’s new policy and apparent crusade. She, frankly, wouldn’t be surprised if it was sanctioned by the rest of the world.

She was horrified by the things she heard about. The attacks, the gruesome deaths being reported, the violence... and everyone had been powerless against an entire army.

An army. This wasn’t anything less than a genocide against vampires.

So she’d kept an eye on things, kept an ear out. It was in North Carolina that she crossed paths with the monster himself.

It was a bar, where she was meeting with another vampire, a friend of hers she met up with sometimes when out searching for her family line. The two girls exchanged pleasantries and talked for a while, catching each other up on their respective exploits since they’d last spoken.

Kiley had excused herself for a moment. When she didn’t come back soon, Dove had slipped out the back to find her.

He didn’t see her, and she was quick to hide in the shadows, so he never did. Beast had cornered Kiley against the wall. The girl was strong, she was skilled at compelling others, and she was doing it now, Dove could see it.

But then he laughs coolly, doesn’t repeat her. He taps the frames of his glasses. “These don’t let your little mind control magic get through. You’re wasting your breath.”

Dove barely contains her reaction when he stakes her, slowly, coldly, a sneer on his face. She blurs out of the alley and away, doesn’t stop until she’s back at the place she’s been staying at, closing and locking the door before collapsing weakly onto the bed.

He was in North Carolina. It was only a matter of time.

It was only a matter of time.

Dove knew what she had to do, and she grabbed her phone, dialing the third emergency number saved in it.

“Hello?”

“Bonnie, I need your help. The Beast is coming that way.”

Bonnie was leaning against the wall. “I hate this plan of yours.”

“You think I like it?!” Dove rakes a hand through her hair. “No, of course not. I don’t want this any more than you do. But it’s the only way I’ll be strong enough. And I want him to understand that there’s a lot of things that’ll come for him if he dares to try, so it can’t JUST be you.”

“Dove, I’ve seen Stefan go all... blood-crazy. This is a bad idea. If you go off the rails...”

“You’ll be there to aneurysm me. Right? Bonnie, I called you for that, too. I know I’m gonna need your help to maintain my self-control when this is settled. I know what I’m signing up for. But we can’t let him find Mystic Falls. I know how you feel about vampires--”

“I’m not,” she interrupts, fixing a gaze on Dove, “Going to let him screw with them, any of you. He doesn’t get to show up and run our town to fit his standards. I don’t want him there any more than you do. I just want to be sure you’re sure this is how it has to be done.”

“I am,” Dove sets her shoulders. “I have to be.”

“There’s a lot of difference there.”

“Shut up, Bonnie,” Dove mutters, sighing and shaking her head. “We don’t have other options. I’m not gonna let the Salvatore brothers do this, and we have no clue where Andromeda is. I have to. Just... make sure I pull back. Yeah? Don’t... don’t let me go down that path.”

Bonnie sighs, reaching out and grabbing her arm. “Dove. I have a lot of faith in you. And when that fails me, I can handle you.”

“Don’t you mean ‘if’?” Dove cracks a weak smile.

Bonnie raises an eyebrow at her, and Dove sighs with a weak laugh. “I thought not. Okay. I guess it’s just a matter of...” But she doesn’t say it. There’s nothing she can say that’s going to make this next part okay. She’d literally rather do anything else.

And that’s how she’s here. Resting her head on her hand, Dove idly taps her nails against the bar, her drink untouched, watching those around her. She didn’t know how to do this. She never did this. She would never do this. She literally never planned to do this.

God, she wished Andromeda were here.

Bonnie was here, too. Watching for Dove to pick her mark. Waiting so she could follow, could stop Dove from going overboard on the poor soul. She could feel the witch’s eyes, sometimes, before Bonnie would glance in whatever direction Dove was looking, tracking the same people. Judging the same way Dove was.

Dove sighs. She doesn’t feel good about this. Her stomach is in knots. And then the door swings open and a sight that unnerves her even more than the idea of having to hurt someone graces her.

He’s back another night. Why is he back another night? Dove manages to have the same disinterested lookover of many patrons and disregards the Beast. But she shares a look with Bonnie and gives her half a nod. Bonnie nods back just slightly. They needed to get this done and over... with...

Dove’s head picks up when a guy slips past her, groping her ass. Bonnie’s eyes widen and she raises an eyebrow as if asking what she thought she’d just seen had just happened. Dove glances to the girl beside her, who glances to her and nods. Dove nods back. “I’ll take care of him.”

She frowns. “That’s not a good idea.”

“Probably not. But I can handle myself. Thanks for the concern, sweetie,” she pats the other’s arm and hops up, going after the guy and catching his arm. “Hey!”

He turns around, sneering already. Dove doesn’t know where the idea strikes her, but it does. “You wanna feel a little more of that, or not man enough to handle me?”

He smirks, grabbing her shirt collar. She reaches her hands up to his, pushing on them gently. “Get me out of here, hmm?”

He might have said something. Dove honestly stopped paying attention. Just paid enough mind to get into a back alley with him before she pinned him up against the wall. “My turn to feel up what I’m after. Only fair, hm?”

His cocky smile changes to something of confusion when she reaches up to his neck, smirking when she finds just the vein, and then letting her face turn-- black veins, eyes, and extending those fangs.

She doesn’t stay in front of him long enough to see him react to that as she suddenly goes at his neck.

The first taste, and she’s reminded of how good this is. Giving in to her nature, what she was supposed to be doing all along. The taste, the strength she could feel when she was just feeding--

Vaguely, she’s aware of some part of her reminding her that no matter how much of a jerk he was, she shouldn’t drain him, but she wants to ignore it, Bonnie would understand this one, she’d seen it too, she--

“Camille,” she hears, knowing it’s in her head. “Darling. Don’t.”

Robert.

She forces herself off the creep’s neck, catching his gaze, easily forcing, “When you got outside, the hot chick slapped you across the face, and you ended up walking away on your own. But you got jumped. Some mugger got you in the neck with his knife. You really don’t remember much else. Probably karma’s way of telling you not to put your hands on people uninvited.”

“The hot chick slapped me. I got jumped. The mugger got me with his knife. I don’t remember much else,” he answers, dazed.

Dove nods, pushing off of him and blurring out of the alley. On the sidewalk, though, she wipes her face clean, bringing herself back. She was faster. She was stronger. She--

No. She had to deal with the Beast. She checks her reflection in a closed shop’s window, then goes running-- like a NORMAL person would-- back to the bar, bursting in the door, eyes wide in fear.

Beast is still pulled up to a table that Bonnie had moved closer to. Dove rushes to him. “Excuse me? You’re-- you’re him, right? The king of that Auradon place?”

“That’s me,” he confirms, raising an eyebrow at her. “Why?”

“I... I’ve heard some rumors about why you’re here in America. Is there any truth to them?” She looks around nervously, leaning in. “Are you really here to kill vampires?”

He sets his glass down, looking troubled. “What’s wrong?”

“I-- this guy and I left here but we-- something attacked us in an alley--” Dove lets herself tear up, getting scared. “He managed to get its attention off of me and told me to go for help-- it’s moving so fast-- I don’t think it’s human-- please, can you help?”

And he’s on his feet in a flash. “Where?”

Dove nods and motions for him to follow her quickly. “This way!”

He gives chase on her heels, and she knows Bonnie will be behind them in a few minutes. But it was her step first.

Leading him back to her unfortunate companion, she gasps and turns away with a dry heave as they reach the scene, partially to cover her urge to go finish what she’d started.

The Beast rushes to his side, managing to get the man semi-conscious again. “Hey. Hey, look at me. What happened? What attacked you?”

“Mugged,” mutters the guy weakly, reaching up to his neck. “Think his knife got me...”

“Damn,” Beast growls. “It must have controlled his mind. Made him forget what he saw.”

“Wh-- what?” Dove looks back with wide eyes, shaking. “They-- they can do that?”

He pulls away from the creep and comes to her, setting his hands on his shoulders. “They can, don’t ever let your guard down if you think there’s one nearby. They can twist your memories around.”

“What if-- what if I’m under that one’s control??” Dove looks scared, shaking more. “Is there some way to know? I don’t want to put anyone in danger.”

“Take some deep breaths,” he tells her, his tone even, still holding her. She follows along somewhat, and he nods. “Do you feel any strange urges? Anything you feel like you have to do, you have no choice?”

“N-no,” she stutters out. “I don’t think so. You-- you’re really calm about this.”

“They can’t get into my head,” he answers, tapping at the side of his glasses. Confirming what he’d told Kiley, though he has no idea she knows any of that. “I had a member of my magic council enchant these. Vampires can’t even touch them.”

“Really?” A voice behind them interrupts. The glasses fly off his face and into Bonnie’s open hand, the witch catching them with ease. “Cool.”

Beast looks at her in shock and confusion, but Dove moves first, blurring them back into the wall, smirking. “I thought so, too, but I’m not sure Kiley did.”

His face hardens as he glares at her. “You’re one of them.”

“Guilty as charged. You ruined my diet. Do you have any idea how long I’ve gone without drinking from people? But, well, I wouldn’t have been strong enough to deal with you, so sacrifices have to be made.”

Dove motions to the creep who was long unconscious with a shrug, grabbing the Beast’s jaw and forcing him to look at her when he turns his head. “I don’t think so.” She locks into his eyes before he can close them. “You won’t be going to Mystic Falls, Virginia.”

He tenses, he resists, but he doesn’t get out of her gaze now, so she pushes harder. “You won’t be going to Mystic Falls, Virginia. Nor will any of your army. It’s all rumor and boredom. The founders of the town were strung out on medication of the era. There is no evidence of vampires in Mystic Falls, Virginia.”

“There’s... no evidence... of vampires... in Mystic Falls,” he finally lets out, defeated, and she knows it from the slight daze that his words take on.

“You won’t waste your time on rumors with no evidence.”

“I won’t waste my time on rumors with no evidence.”

“You don’t even want to hear about the place anymore. You’re done with it.”

“I don’t even want to hear about the place anymore. I’m done with it.”

“You won’t order anyone to go in your stead, and you won’t go there yourself.”

“I won’t order anyone to go in my stead, and I won’t go there myself.”

“Moving forward, you’ll forget the whole town even was mentioned. You won’t worry about following up on it if you get reminded of it.” Good measure.

“I’ll forget the whole town was even mentioned. I won’t follow up on it.”

Dove nods, smirking. “Good.”

He blinks back together, as Dove lets him go with a shove back against the wall, backing off.

He glares at her, taking deep breaths, rolling out his neck. “A vampire who doesn’t like to feed on people, huh? Now I really have heard it all.”

“Heaven forbid we don’t fit your brutal murdering stereotype, I guess,” Dove snarks, crossing her arms. “He’s yours, B--”

“No, really, I have to ask how you do it. Being out and about with all the people you must go around. How do you handle it? Wouldn’t it be so much easier to just go for what you need on the spot?”

“He’s baiting you,” Bonnie points out unhelpfully, putting a hand in front of her. Dove waves her off slightly, glaring at the other.

“And what about me? All the vampires I’ve seen, that I’ve exterminated. And all you want is to keep me away from some friends of yours? I bet I’ve killed a lot of your friends. You didn’t seem all that surprised when I told you about my glasses. Did you overhear me a few days ago? Was that ‘Kiley’ you mentioned a friend of yours I staked?”

Dove grits her teeth. It’d be so easy, so easy, it wouldn’t take any effort at all to just drain him completely, to just--

“I’m not going to stop unless you stop me,” he taunts, and something in her snaps--

But she barely moves a step before a splitting, blinding pain hits her head, and she sinks slowly to her knees, choking a bit as she tries to react at all, closing her eyes, bringing her hands up, it hurts, it hurts, it hurts, she thinks she might die and is honestly almost relieved at the idea--

And then it’s gone. Blinking the tears from her eyes, she looks up to see Bonnie glaring down at her. She nods slowly, silent. “I’ll be back at the room.”

“Good idea.”

Dove drags herself to her feet and, breathing hard, blurs out of the alley.

Dove never asked Bonnie what she did after she left. She never asked what Bonnie had done on top of her compulsion. She had other things to worry about-- regaining her self control, mainly.

She hadn’t taken the time to return to Mystic Falls until she had herself in check again. She and Bonnie had already agreed that none of the others needed to know, so she didn’t want them to see her until she was back to herself. Which made even more years she’d been gone when she finds herself on the doorstep.

Since it had been so long, she decides to be polite, knocking on the door, crossing her arms and leaning back on her foot slightly.

Damon opens the door, raising an eyebrow at her and turning back to the house and calling out into it. “Stefan, you can’t just leave kids on the lawn, the neighbors will call the cops again.”

“You still think you’re cute.”

“And you still think you’re pleasant.”

“One of us, he actually wants here, Damon, and last I checked it sure as hell wasn’t you,” Dove remarks as she finally pushes past him into the house.

He rolls his eyes and shakes his head. “Been a while, Dove.”

“It has,” Stefan agrees as he comes to meet her, pulling her in and hugging her, which she returns tightly. “I was worried about that Auradonian king.”

“He’s not that good,” Dove rolls her eyes with a laugh. “Never even crossed paths. Any news about Andromeda?” The other had been missing far longer than she had.

“Ask her yourself,” Damon motions to the doorway. Dove turns around, eyes widening at the sight of the other girl.

She blurs over, grabbing the other’s arms, checking her over. “You’re alive! Where the hell have you been?!”

“Prison.”

“Since when?!”

“The 80s?”

Dove pauses, an eye twitching. “What?”

“The mayor’s wife was hot. I regret nothing,” Andromeda shrugs, holding up her hands.

Dove lets the other go, holding up her hands and processing. “You-- since-- and because-- you-- YOU FUCKING IDIOT!”

Without even thinking about it she suddenly snaps Andromeda’s neck and drops the dumbass, flinging her arms up and looking up. “Why do I associate with you morons?!”

“I told her so,” Damon remarks before taking a drink. Stefan just nods in silent agreement without comment.

When Andromeda finally comes back around, Dove had calmed down enough to actually talk to the other. It was in the time it took for her to bounce back that it had occurred to the three that if she’d been imprisoned that long...

Andromeda had no idea about Auradon, about its king, about what happened.

So when Andromeda sits up with a gasp, Dove turns in her seat, resting her arms on the back of the couch and her head on her arms. “Not sorry. Come here, sit.”

“Why the hell would I do that?” Andromeda glares at her, stretching her neck out.

“Because we have to tell you about something else you missed. Something major,” Stefan motions to the open spot for her. “Get over here.”

Andromeda looks ready to snark him when she sees Damon’s expression. He’s leaned back in his seat, and had largely let Dove and Stefan handle this. But he nods at her when she looks at him. She nods and slowly comes over to sit down. “What could be this serious?”

“So... Disney movies are real now, which is not the news but is probably news-worthy,” Damon starts sarcastically.

“What he means,” Stefan interrupts, sighing and leaning forward... pausing. “...is, Disney movies are real now, actually.”

“An alternate plane of reality clipped with ours,” Dove finally explains with an exasperated eye-roll at the boys. “No one really knows the full specifics. But a new continent appeared. The country on it is apparently called the United States of Auradon, and... yeah, it’s essentially what the guys were saying. Their former democratically elected leaders were Belle and the Beast, of Beauty and the Beast. After that election, the power was passed onto their son when he came of age, so he’s the current king of Auradon. He’s also dating the daughter of Maleficent, quite publicly. But they’re not the issue. The issue is the former King Adam, the Beast.”

“I’m sorry, the cartoon characters are real and you’re glossing over that to focus on the furry?”

“You’ve been in prison since the 80s!” Dove seems exasperated.

“I caught up fast on the internet,” Andromeda shrugs. “News, no, but language’s evolution, sure.”

Dove suspects Andromeda overheard the term from someone and learned what it meant specifically, but she does find the image of Andromeda trying to understand a computer hilarious so she’s choosing to ignore that suspicion.

“Anyways, I wish it could be broken down to something that hilarious,” Dove sighs heavily. “But...”

“Beast committed a genocide. Against vampires,” Stefan finally breaks down and tells her.

“What?!”

Dove holds up her hands. “It’s over. He’s gone into retirement from everything, apparently. And his offspring hasn’t shown much interest in following in dear old dad’s footsteps.”

“That doesn’t mean anything!”

“Andromeda, it’s handled!”

As the girls begin yelling at each other, Damon shakes his head and looks to his brother. “Oh, look, the lawn children are fighting.”

“I believe they’re called cabbage patch kids,” Stefan remarks.

Dove breaks off mid-thought in the argument, looking over with a wheeze. “CABBAGE PATCH KIDS?!” She cracks up, doubling over.

Now the phone call she couldn’t believe she’d just gotten. Dove leans against the wall of her room, grateful the boys were out doing fuck knows what. “I’m sorry, what?”

“There’s more here. There’s-- Dove, there are people here that are dead ringers for Caroline and Matt. It’s not just Elena.”

“That... that doesn’t make any sense,” Dove runs a hand through her hair.

“No, really?”

“Shut up. I’m coming out there.”

“What?! Dove--”

“I’m coming out. See you before long.” Dove hangs up to not have the argument. She sighs, looking over her desk, to a framed photo on the corner, reaching over and picking it up gently. It was her wedding photo. Her eyes are on Robert, both now and in the photo. Her finger traces along his face in the photo with a small, weak smile. She straightens up as she sets the photo down. “Situation got more complicated.”

Stefan stands up from where he’d been leaning against the doorframe. “I gathered. You know I don’t think either of you should be in Auradon.”

“Concern noted,” Dove answers, turning back to him. “Stefan, we can take care of ourselves.”

“I think you already have,” he says, walking over and setting his hands on her shoulders. “You really never crossed paths with the genocidal maniac touring the country specifically to off vampires?”

“Not once. Did you?”

“He apparently stayed completely out of Mystic Falls, out of Virginia as a whole. You wouldn’t happen to know anything about that, would you?”

“Can’t say as I do,” Dove answers, gently nudging his hands off her shoulders. “But I’m relieved to hear that.”

He holds her gaze, and she refuses to break under it, crossing her arms. “Stefan.”

He sighs. “Camille, I have to ask. I can’t figure out what kept him out of town, much less out of Virginia as a whole.”

They have such a complete trust of each other. She knows she’d just have to reaffirm one more time that she had nothing to do with it, and he’d accept it as the truth. He wouldn’t question it.

Damn it, she can’t do it. She sighs, holding up her hands, leaning back against her desk and running a hand through her hair.

“He was in North Carolina. It didn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out where he was heading. I called Bonnie to back me up. Had to break my diet to be strong enough. Compelled him to stay out of town. I don’t know why he stayed out of state. I’d guess something Bonnie said. She had to aneurysm me and then sent me back to the motel I was in before she spoke to him. I didn’t come back here until I was in check again. I didn’t want you to see me like that.”

Stefan sighs heavily, nodding slowly and walking over to join her, leaning back against her desk as well, crossing his arms.

They sit in silence for a moment.

“You didn’t kill him.”

“I wanted to.”

“You didn’t, though,” he points out.

“I couldn’t,” she amends softly. “Not because of Bonnie. I just knew that... if I did. If I did, it would just make me everything he said we were. And that if I did, someone else would take his place. I couldn’t kill him. I couldn’t stop him completely. But I could keep him out of town. It was the only thing I could do.”

Stefan nods. “And that’s why you’re going to Auradon. You know when you have to do something, little dove. You always know when there’s no other way around it. You always have.”

“You’re not mad?”

“Not even disappointed. I’ve always trusted your judgement, Camille. Okay? Never doubt that.”

Dove sighs, nodding slowly and looking at him. “And I’ve mostly always trusted yours.”

He rolls his eyes and pushes her a bit. She laughs and sighs. “I should get packing.”

“Probably,” he agrees. “I have to go. Something to take care of. Don’t leave without saying goodbye, all right?”

“Fine,” she answers, smiling softly. “So long as you come back in a timely manner.”

He laughs and shakes his head before heading out. Dove smiles softly, reaching over and picking up her photo again.

It wasn’t where she thought she’d be, not that day, surely. Camille Faulke had planned her future, having kids, living a wonderful adventure with the man she loved, watching her children grow up and get married and have kids. Camille Faulke hadn’t even really thought much of the man who’d helped her find her parents all those years ago.

But Dove Salvatore owed everything and then some to him.

Hospital records from 1923 indicated Camille Faulke died in childbirth. Camille would have probably said she died in that car accident, when her parents were crushed and her husband bled out on the road. Not to mention the disappearance of her baby.

Camille Faulke was dead. Dove Salvatore had to live on. But she couldn’t let it all go. Not yet. Not until she knew where the last of Camille’s life, her family, were.

When she knew, she’d put Camille to the rest she long deserved. Not until then. She gently kisses the photo and sets it down to pack her bags.

If "happy ever after" did exist I would still be holding you like this All those fairy tales are full of shit One more fucking love song, I'll be sick

#i traded my soul for this; breaking in my skin || dove #dove / para #flashback para #broken wings || covered in blood; just girly things

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