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running-with-kn1ves · 2 years

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INVASION

A/N: I am realllyyy iffy on how this came out, but I weirdly put a lot of effort in it,,, so tada! here it is!

TW Abduction/alien invasion, forced touching & kissing, fluids(saliva), violence, dehumanization

Synopsis: You just HAD to meet the prince of an alien race on your shift at 7-eleven that night, huh?

Word Count: 3,000

A green abyss.

That was what you had been sitting in for countless days.

Or, what you assumed had been days. Time was untellable in this coldly lush room that shined with fluorescent lights mimicking a sun and moon. The moon in this room seemed to come out far sooner than the one orbiting Earth though, and the sun was so dim you could stare at it without squinting. You wondered if your captors were used to a different measurement of time, considering they seemed to force you to sleep at earlier and more prolonged periods than you remember on your planet. Though with the noisy activity you could hear outside when you begrudgingly tried to rest, you guessed the mandatory bedtime was merely curated to keep you docile.

You had very few to complain to about your unhappiness in this newfound habitat. It wasn’t like anyone came to visit you, save for the select few anomalies that reluctantly brought your food. With the clinking metal chained to their legs, you came to realize that they were creatures forced into a servitude similar to your species.

They wore little fabric to cover up the indecent parts of their bodies, displaying their protruding ribs and bruised ankles. Their features terrified you when they first came to your room, though they merely set down food and items. Their large, unnatural eyes shone brightly, taking up two-thirds of their faces as their mouths ceased to exist; with bodies that twisted and cracked, they seemed both fragile yet flexible. You had tried to talk to the creatures on several occasions-- pleading with them, yelling, begging, crying. Even screaming once you got to your breaking point; but none of it worked. Each time, they seemed to look at you with sorrow and skittered away without a sound.

Even now, with one dropping your tray of food and scurrying out as you pleaded for help, you saw it could not understand a word you spoke. The sludge on the tray was dumped from the alien’s haste, splaying across your room and landing specks on a certain someone’s shoes.

“Would you at least try to refrain from fraternizing with the servants?” A voice called out from the corner. “It's insulting to your hosts to acknowledge them.” You watched as he slowly came from behind a potted tree, shaking his gruel-speckled shoe. “Besides, they can’t understand you.”

You made a sour face as his disguise fell. The being in front of you had taken the shape of the foliage surrounding your room, green and brown hues reflecting the plants native to your home. The colors blurred for a moment, quickly turning him from an emerald-green bush to his regular state of regal apparel and lilac-gray skin. He had blended in so well you nearly jumped when he changed form. Your stomach twisted into itself as a frown made its way to your face, unable to hide your discontent at seeing him.

His sets of dark eyes peered down at you, their scrutinizing gaze looking with disapproval. The bastard was twice your height, countless limbs attached to his side as he gracefully made himself known. His teeth were large, sharp canines gleaming when he smiled at you. The alien had small scars carved as symbols decorating his slippery skin; the marks only appeared on his forehead and upper cheeks, having long since healed; they had to have some meaning of importance on his planet.

Other than his visible differences, the creature was not far off from your own species. If he walked amongst humans on Earth, most would probably perceive him as some costume-wearing weirdo.

But his presence didn’t make you point or stare as it would on Earth; it simply reminded you of how you were torn away from your home.

“How are you liking your enclosure? I sent a few things here to make up for my absence.” He touched a leaf that seemed to be browning, looking curiously at it. “I hope you’ve enjoyed them. It’s been hard for us to find things in what's left of your planet.”

You glowered at him, pinching your lips shut. Being reminded that your planet had been destroyed was crushing. You still held a small hope in your heart that there might be some part of Earth still alive. But hearing the wails of your fellow humans on the ship before you were forced into your ‘enclosure’, made the reality all too prickling.

“When are you going to let me out of here?” You asked, picking roughly at your hands.

The creature sighed, his lips perfectly curating an unhappy expression. There was something deeply uncanny about his appearance that made it impossible for you to get comfortable.

“Does your species naturally have such a poor memory? We’ve already discussed this.”

You grated your teeth as he drew near.

“If you don’t let me out, I’m just going to…to--” You started, clenching your fists and preparing to threaten him.

“Going to what?” He quickly interrupted with a grin. “Your measly human body has already exhausted itself by trying to escape your pen, sweetling. I don’t think you should try this game anymore. Goodness knows it would still take lightyears even to get back to your little planet.”

Hearing the sheer distance you were from Earth made you shiver. Was there even a sliver of a chance of getting back there? Was it…truly gone? Would you, too, be burned and crushed to ash?

You still felt you might have been able to save your planet If you hadn’t treated his questions about Earth as a joke the first time you met him. You could still be working in that tiny gas station with your fellow humans, and not here in a cold, unforgiving spaceship made by creatures you thought to be unreal.

That night, the alien in front of you had taken the appearance of your greatest desire; a man that only existed in your dreams. He was the most beautiful being you had ever seen. You were easily fooled by his alluring disguise, stuttering out your words and trying to calm your beating heart while at the cash register. In your moments of quippy remarks and quick scanning in an attempt to appear collected, you had revealed how great your planet was, how useful it could be to him.

All your simple interaction had confirmed to him was that your species wasn’t intelligent enough to be a threat. Your planet had the minerals his race was looking for, you heedlessly revealed, and that was that. To be fair, you had no idea who he was or that he wasn’t even human. But that didn’t change the fact that you and several hundred others had been captured to be placed in his personal menagerie, and your home was now being viciously mined for his race’s gain. You wished you could have at least gone down on Earth with your loved ones, instead of being trapped in a cage, treated like an expensive pet.

“Well, if you aren’t enjoying yourself here, I may be inclined to move you into my room. At least, until we get back home.”

Home. His home, he meant.

“No. I’d rather stay as far away from you as possible.” You mumbled.

“Oh?”

Your captor turned in your direction, long layers of red and gold fabric trailing behind him that hardly covered his torso. He certainly looked regal, adorning robes finer than you had ever seen.

“I’ll make sure the arrangements are made as soon as possible if that's the case.”

Your eyes went wide in disbelief. Why did he propose the idea to you in the first place if he was just going to make a decision?

“But I just said--!”

“These tantrums of yours are causing more trouble than you’re worth. Until you learn to behave yourself, you’ll stay in my sight.” He strutted closer to you, his multiple hands caressing the leaves and stems of plants as he walked by. “What will the elders think of such a disobedient little human? I’m not quite sure I’ll be able to save you from their wrath, even if you are my pet.”

His words held no sympathy as they jabbed into you, allowing you to realize just how little he thought of your existence.

“Just-- let me out of here! I want to go home,” You stood up, saying the first things that came to mind. “you disgusting monster!”

You hoped your words would make you seem big, almost threatening. But once they left your mouth, you just felt childish.

His sets of eyes looked at you with a dull expression, clearly not interested in your newfound exasperation. But you were still hungry to get revenge, hungry to have some sort of control over your abduction. The furrowed, annoyed look on his face gave you a flawed, but tempting idea.

Getting up from the soft, plushy bed in the center of your ‘room,’ your bare feet began to make a beeline straight for him. You lunged, your hands outstretched with pointed nails. You had filed them with your teeth during your hours of alone time, waiting for the perfect moment to attack. The creature didn’t appear phased, making your hateful expression soon turn uneasy.

The only emotion he seemed to portray was… disappointment. That was not what you were looking for.

You aimed for his eyes, hoping to damage at least one. But your hesitation mixed with his strength ultimately created your failure. You grunted and screamed, trying to push away from him as he snatched your flailing arms.

“If you’re going to call me names, at least use the right one.” His blunt, clean nails dug small crescent shapes into your skin as a multitude of arms held you in a tight grip. “Aether is fine. Or if you’d like, ‘my lord’ or ‘master’ would suit well, too.” He grinned, eyes gleaming.

His lips had a natural gradient of black, almost giving him a venomous look; a detail you had never noticed from far away before. It made him look all the more dangerous; your mistake of thinking of him as similar to humans now became far more apparent.

Aether’s unmatched stature allowed him to leer forward, looking down at you as he shoved you backward. Your head knocked onto the tile floor making you see stars as the “sun” stared down at you. The alien hardly strained as he leaned down, kneeling next to you as you lie dazed. He was almost amused as you moaned in pain, fingers caressing your disheveled clothes as you held your head.

“Are you ever going to stop fighting?” He asked with a frown.

You attempted to kick him with your leg, but Aether caught it without a need to dodge.

“No!” You screamed. “So just let me go! Let me out of here!”

Even if you couldn’t return home, you couldn’t stand being locked in this room anymore.

You struggled in his grip, trying to bite his hand that tried to cup your cheek. Another set of his arms came up to quickly press you down on the floor, nearly cracking the tile below you with how roughly he shoved you down.

He sighed, clicking his tongue as you refused to look away.

“Then it seems some training is in order.”

Aether didn’t give you a chance to scream another word, sticking his large thumb against your tongue as the rest of his hands held you down. You groaned against his hand, trying to spit out his finger; yet that only pressured him to put it farther down your throat.

“You know, I read about this before entering your planet. When a human isn’t getting enough attention, it lashes out. Same when there isn’t enough food or entertainment-- you humans throw a fit.”

You could taste his salty, smooth skin as your tongue frantically slid against his thumb. His bare thigh peaked between the fabric of the robes and pushed between your legs. As most of his hands kept you held down, the rest were busy fondling you.

“I didn’t know you were so dissatisfied with my absence… if you really needed my touch so badly, I would have come sooner.”

‘You’re crazy!’ You tried to shout, but the words came out a gargled mess.

“We, too, like to indulge in similar acts of passion as your kind. And I would have satisfied you if I knew sooner;” Aether watched as tears began to form in your eyes, his thumb nearly causing you to gag. “Even if you don’t deserve it.”

He caressed your tongue, letting spit gather onto his digit until he removed it. You coughed hoarsely once it exited your mouth, the alien busy observing the liquid on his thumb. He seemed intrigued, studying it as if it was something odd. Popping the finger in his mouth without hesitation, he sucked the secretion. You watched hazily with watery eyes and a sticky nose, unable to focus on his odd behavior as your survival mode kicked in.

He let go of the slick finger after a swirl of his tongue.

“Well, I suppose you don’t taste nearly as awful as I expected. Though, that isn’t a reflection of the rest of your body;” He commented, letting his purple tongue flick against the wet digit. “How about… down here.”

He looked down as you shut your legs quickly, trying to get around his leg that kept itself planted between your thighs. Aether looked amused, taking note of how that small phrase seemed to garner so much squirming.

“Please--” You huffed, trying to struggle against him.

But that only seemed to interest Aether more, his eyebrow arching as your body wiggled against his hands. His long, dark hair fell to the side messily, destroying his preserved image of perfectness. He looked ethereal, like a being created by humans to describe a creature not of this world; a make-believe vision. But this new side of him disgusted you, showing his true, ravenous nature.

Your cries fell on deaf ears as he leaned down, one of his hands coming to hold your jaw as you tried to twist your head away.

“Relax, I won’t initiate an intimate, ‘mating’ taste yet. But I still need to understand this sweet flavor, coming from--” He bent down, prying open your lips and shoving his tongue into your mouth.

Aether groaned pleasurably, finding the taste of you quite delectable. His unnaturally long yet wet muscle took in yours. You pushed against him persistently as your breathing increased, becoming overtly anxious; but still, his strength greatly outweighed your own. His body nearly consumed yours from its utter size, including his multitude of arms that enveloped you without a care.

You drooled as Aether kept mingling with your tongue, keeping your mouth open as he shut his rows of eyes. He seemed to concentrate, almost savoring the flavor of your mouth. The alien continued his assault for what felt like an eternity, only releasing your tongue with a slick noise when he became out of breath. A line of saliva connected you to him. It was slowly licked away as the creature ran the tip of his tongue over his lips.

Aether took his time, swallowing as he contemplated whether or not he liked it. Your tongue lolled out, having been engulfed by aether so much it was nearly numb. His eyes glowed, looking down at you and seeming to enjoy your helplessness. He licked your lips and chin, cleaning up the mess he made, but only out of a desire for another taste.

Your chest pounded, wanting now more than ever to be back home, or at least with a fellow human. You didn’t care at this point, as long as you were away from him!

Aether leaned down next to your ear, taking in a big whiff of your smell and miserable expression.

“Your bodies feel so strange…There is a great deal of research to be done regarding your anatomy. Especially from how sensitive it is.”

He came close, gently biting the shell of your ear; it was a test for a reaction. You tried to stay quiet, wiggling to get free but ultimately jerking at the new sensation. His teeth grazed down your neck, his tongue almost feeling like a slimy tentacle as it poked outward. The alien’s hands left bruises on your wrists, but his other limbs were busy focusing on your thighs and stomach, riding up your shirt to grab and inspect your flesh. Were you the same all over? Did you have something he hadn’t seen before? He wanted to know all of it, see and experience everything that he had only read about before taking over your planet.

Aether was too curious to leave you to your own devices. Besides, you were so low on the food chain when it came to other species that he didn’t see much of a problem with using you as his little guinea pig.

His fingers pinched your hips, several hands getting dangerously lower as you attempted to kick again. It was clear he wasn’t going to back down on seeing every bit of your flesh; eventually, he’d manage to force you to give in to him. Even if that time wasn’t now. Your stomach sank at the thought. Bile began to rise in your throat, making your head spin.

“Please, Aether--” You tried testing his name. Maybe if you pleaded rather than defied, you decided, he might let you go. You desperately hoped for that mercy.

Your voice sent a jolt through Aether once he heard his name roll off your tongue. Instead of pity that you hoped would flash through his eyes, it was greed. He smiled hungrily at you, liking your newfound obedience.

“No. Your right to call me by name has been revoked.” Licking his lips, Aether bit down. “Call me ‘master’ from now on.”

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prince-liest · 2 months

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Wooo, the past two days have reminded me that I really enjoy medicine! It's just the emergency department that isn't for me, almost as if I chose family medicine for a reason, haha. (Also apparently our local ED is a shitshow. I wouldn't really know, as it's my only point of reference, and as far as I know most EDs in underserved areas are shitshows. At any rate, I lost a patient for 3 hours the other day because someone moved them without telling me and updated the chart incorrectly, and I hunted for them all around THRICE without finding them, and signed them out as Left During Treatment until someone finally called me like, "Heyyy... so did you send X to the pharmacy...?" and I was like, "They're STILL HERE???"... ANYWAY.......)

No matter what rotation we're currently on, the family medicine residents do 1.5 days of clinic a week, and half a day of didactics. ED shifts can't be interrupted, so mine are all lined up so that I have all of Tuesday in clinic, and Wednesday split between clinic/didactic. I've basically gotten only half a day off so far in the past two weeks due to the night shift schedule, but this litte two-day family medicine interlude has felt like a break in its own way, haha. Now that I'm getting a better hang of the EMR, clinic just feels very nice, and it's exactly what I want to be doing. And as part of our didactic, we spent a couple of hours today doing sports physicals for the nearby college, which was neat! Got free pizza after, too, eyy.

One small thing I really wish was standardized is that anybody on inpatient service and emergency medicine rotations had an official break, at least 30 minutes per shift (which is not a lot considering shifts are 8-10 hours for ED and 12 hours for inpatient service). Most other rotations (including even inpatient pediatrics) have an hour designated for lunch, but two of the most grueling ones don't, and what ends up happening is that even if my seniors have told me not to worry and to take a 30 minute lunch in the ED, I feel guilty doing it because everybody else is scarfing down a 10 minute sandwich at their computers while staring at the patient charts and I feel bad taking even 15 whole minutes because it's noticably 5 minutes longer than the EM resident took! And it's the same thing for my coresident that's currently on inpatient service. It's just a long time to go without a dedicated break and it's part of what makes those services exhausting.

Anyway, today and yesterday were both good and I have some things I'm sooo excited for! I got into contact with the new endocrinologist that works with our program because she does trans health care and we're going to start a trans health clinic together. The only real question, which my program director is going to be talking over with her, is figuring out how I can participate in that longitudinally, because unfortunately it doesn't count for my family medicine continuity clinic, and there are some rotations where the hour requirements apparently don't allow me so much as to take a half-day per month for a different service (lookin' at you, inpatient service - which is 6a-6p, 6 days a week, so they'd also be breaking duty hour restrictions if they put the clinic half day on one of my single weekly days off lol).

Regardless, we'll figure something out! I really, really want to do this and my PD is excited about it, so I think they will try to make something work. I'm kinda crossing my fingers that they do allow me to take one half-day per month for this even on inpatient service.

#personal #dear diary #residency #ICU and OB might also lack breaks but we don't have ICU until spring and I haven't asked my coresident on OB if he gets official breaks #a lot of people have said to me “oh we don't have trans healthcare here because we don't have the population for it”#and I'm like “.........you do tho. you really do. they're just not COMING TO GET HEALTHCARE because it's not accessible or welcoming!!!”#like I'm sorry I have seen local trans patients and I have literally worked with trans people in the hospital THE TRANS PEOPLE EXIST #anyway I'm so hyped for this

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houseofauggie · 2 years

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yandere!demon headcanon

The stalking started when you helped the little boy grab the stag stuffed animal off a shelf that was too high for him to reach, unaware that his father stood at the end of the aisle.

Or was it maybe when you consoled his son after the little boy dropped his ice cream in the park?

Or when his son scraped his knee on the playground and you comforted him as you patched him up with the first aid kit you always carried around because you were more clumsy than you seemed.

Come to think of it, there were too many memories of this man and his son showing up in your life for you to pinpoint an exact moment.

On the other end of the spectrum Alessandro could remember the very first moment he laid eyes on you, for that was the first moment he felt warmth since the birth of his son 3 years ago.

You were at work behind the bakery counters laughing with your coworker over a stupid joke, your head thrown back slightly and eyes closed lightly as your lips parted to unleash one of the most remarkable laughs he’d heard in his lifetimes.

Just like that he forgot all about getting his son a blueberry muffin and instead started imagining a future with you. That is until the little hand clutching his thumb disappeared as the toddler raced to the patisserie case, pudgy hand squished against the glass as he stared in awe at the chocolate biscotti.

His heart only further constricted watching you interact with his son, going so far as to let the boy sample the biscotti.

It was over for him when his son bounded back over to him with a biscotti crushed in his hand and demanded to take you home for unlimited treats. You laughed when the boy said it but only if you knew where it would end you.

hello again, I am back after four grueling shifts at work :/ meet my first ever oc alessandro, he's a grungy little man but he kinda cute. don't let him hear you say that though, he's doesn't take so kindly to being called small in any regard.

anywhore, I wanna make an introductory post for him but idk how and I don't have the motivation currently to draw a sketch of what he looks like right now :( anyways expect a meet the oc in a few days when I get the confidence to introduce him tho. leave me any requests or such in the little asks box thing, I've got quite a few fandoms I'd like to write for :)

also name recommendations for the son?? I have a theme I wanna follow but its not set in stone ^.^

august xx

#yandere #yandere!demon #yandere oc x reader #oc #demon #yandere x you #male yandere #he a dilf fr fr #chubby reader #<-----I plan to incorporate that in the future bc no taxation without representation yo #headcanon #yandere headcanons #writing #august xx

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thatbanditqueen · 1 year

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Little Blue Toes

An Elvis-o-Ween 2023 One-shot

A response to the writing prompt "Fall or Halloween".

Comments, concerns and feedback very much appreciated!

like @be-my-ally I sat down to write this today and it got lengthy and I decided to publish it raw....

This is my first time writing from Elvis' perspective, and my first time delving into the supernatural genre... But I just had no idea how to write this story from any other perspective. I was very inspired by the amazing work @peskybedtime and @shakerattlescroll did a few weeks ago writing from Elvis' pov.

Big thanks to my elvis coven @ellie-24 @vintageshanny @whositmcwhatsit @missmaywemeetagain @arrolyn1114 @from-memphis-with-love @lookingforrainbows for their help and support in the fic writing world....

This story is very loosely based on Scotty Moore's history of this show where Elvis reportedly stomped off after four songs and skipped the evening gig.

Summary: It is the summer of 1955, and Elvis and his band are back on a grueling tour schedule. Their first stop out of Memphis is Batesville, AR. The crowd is not kind, the venue is uncomfortable, and so Elvis decides to take off and make his own trouble. Along the way, he comes across a young women who is having an equally bad afternoon, and they find that spending the rest of the day in each other's company might be just the solace they were searching for.

WC: 5.8 K

Warnings: Minors DNI, smut, supernatural elements, coarse language. Typos....

Happy Elvis-o-Ween.......

4 p.m. Saturday August 6, 1955

River Stadium, Batesville, Arkansas

Elvis looked back over his shoulder at where Scotty stood, watching as the wooden platform they were on swayed up and down with the river’s tide. This had to be one of the trickiest venues they’d come upon this summer and the floating stage made it damn near impossible to move around the way Elvis liked to when he sang.

“A goddamn two-bit raft, is what this is, fellas.” Elvis spit to his right as he swore under his breath, and turned back to his mic.

They had only played two songs so far, starting straight away with "That’s Alright Mama” and “Blue Moon of Kentucky” to try and get the crowd’s energy up with. They still had the rest of this afternoon set and another one at 7, but Elvis was already drenched from his head down to his toes in sweat. Quite literally. His socks had soaked up the steady stream of water rolling down his legs, and it made his feet squish into his white leather dress shoes as he shifted from side-to-side to get his bearing. Thank god for this white lace shirt, he could stay cool and look sharp no matter how wet he got.

Not that it mattered how he looked, weren’t a cute girl in sight. Elvis looked out at the crowd of people who had meandered over from the main carnival across the street. Most of them were older, farmers and their wives, and a few families. There was only a handful of young folks in the stands, but he figured, from the shrieks and laughter he could hear, that most of the teenagers were up at the fair. He wished he was up there too, shooting racing ducks or knocking down milk bottles, stead of singing for these frowning old fuddy duddies.

It was a disappointing follow up to their show at the Overton Shell the night before, half of Memphis had shown up after Dewey put out the word on Red, White and Blue. Boy, it had been a great night. Looking down at Dixie’s familiar face in the front row had been reassuring and made him feel at home, filling him up with the confidence he needed to back on tour for two months.

And boy were they kicking out off with a bang. Elvis frowned as he considered what a sad, sorry show this was to begin the tour. He didn’t understand where their fans were. Sam had said their records were selling like hotcakes in Arkansas, and now that the Colonel was getting involved, promotion was supposed to be even better. But the way this audience stared back at him, he’d never know that he was making it as big as Sam or Bob or the Colonel told him he was.

Elvis ran his hand through his wet hair to get it out of his face, and looked over at where their manager, Bob stood, off to the side of the stage trying to smile encouraging. That fat fuck, booking us on this goddamn plank o’ wood in the middle of bum fuck nowhere. Bob’s smile got bigger as Elvis pursed his lips. This whole operation is a fuckin’ disgrace. He couldn’t hear a damn thing once they started playing, the music evaporated out to to the concrete amphitheater across from them and he had no clue if his singing matched anything Bill, Scotty and DJ played. Sighing, he thought maybe it was time for a joke to punch up the crowd. So he hugged his guitar and winked at Bill.

Bill pulled his mic closer. “Hey Elvis, you seen all the pretty little girls in this here town?”

“Why sure, Bill, this town’s got some a sweetest gals this side o the Miss’ippy.”

“Well, this red headed cutie stopped me on my way on stage, grabbed my arm and said, ‘Hiya, stud, how about a bite tonight after the show?"

Elvis mugged for the audience. “Well, whatcha say, Bill?”

“Well, Elvis, I said, I’m busy after the show, honey, but I ain’t doin’ nothin’ now.’ Sos’s I bit her.” Bill followed his punchline with a big grows and a few gnawing sounds.

It was a good joke, it made Elvis laugh out loud every time Bill did it, but the crowd didn’t seem to even register how clever they were. The barge creaked up and down, and Elvis took a deep sigh, announcing out the next song.

“Well, speaking a cute lil gals, this next song, friends, is a hit we just had called Baby, Let's Play House, I hope you like it.”

Elvis closed his eyes, blocking out the dull, blank faces in front of him as he tried to stay balanced, shaking his hips and bopping his left knee up and down to help him keep time with the melody. The stage ebbed up and down, so instead of pacing the front, or doing some of the moves he usually did, Elvis gripped the mic and leaned down to croon the final refrain.

Baby, baby, baby b-b-b-b-b baby, baby baby, baby baby baby, Come back, baby, I wanna play house wit yoooooou

A few little bitty kids started doing a square dance at the front, and he looked up to see one or two teens walking into the stands. But overall, the energy was dead and it was killing his confidence.

“Uh, al right folks, we got many more good songs comin’ up, I jus know ya gonna enjoy our hit ‘I Don't Care (If The Sun Don't Shine).’ Which we’ll play in a hot second. But uh, well, we , uh we, uh - here’s ‘Good Rockin’ Tonight.’”

Elvis really gave it his all and said fuck it to the floating stage, wigging and thrusting his hips up to bolster his diaphragm as he dug deep to find the strength to scream into the powder blue afternoon sky. He opened his eyes, still hardly any movement from the crowd.

“Wouldn’t know a rockin’ tune if it hit them in the face,” he muttered under his breath, and Bill, sensing that the younger man’s mood was turning sour, started another joke.

“Hey Elvis, you know that chick I was talkin’ bout ealier?”

“Uh, yeah Bill? The one ya tried ta et?”

“Yeah, well, you’d a think that a scared her off, but man, these Batesville babies, y’all are fearless, man. Fear-lessss. Why, she begged me to ditch y’all and go home with her right away.”

“Oh man, Bill, whatcha say to that?”

“I said heyyy, baby, the heck are you begging for? You're old enough to ask for it.”

Elvis guffawed loudly, looking out at the audience.

“You’re a good man, Billiam, teachin’ that lil gal some manners.”

The sun was in Elvis’ eyes and he couldn’t see anyone’s face, so he just kept talking, sure of his humor.

“Heck, y’all can send us all ya unmarried womenfolk and we’ll do our best to teach ‘em somethin’. We’re stayin’ at the Wagon Wheel motel, jus down the street. Send any married gals who need a lesson our way too, we ain’t picky.”

A man stood up in the front row.

“Y’all should be ashamed, talkin’ filth like that out here. Ain’t Christian! An it t’aint right!”

The sun started to go down, and now Elvis could see clearly as a few others joined the man to boo them. He looked over at Bob, then back at the band. The guys just shrugged, and Bob yelled out to try and calm the crowd.

“Aw, now, the boy was just joshin, friends, just joshing’ now, so if you’ll -”

“Play in the ‘Jailhouse Now’!”

“Play some Eddy Arnold or Red Foley!”

“Go back to the city and your sinful ways!”

A fire started to pulsate up Elvis’ belly, he clenched his fists in anger and couldn’t control the need to leave, right there and then, before he embarrassed himself in front of these people.

“Aw, nuts to this, Bobbert.” Elvis pulled his guitar strap over his head and pushed the instrument into Bob’s arms. Then he grabbed his white sports jacket and jumped to shore, muttered to himself all the way.

“Goddamn alfalfa farmers. Ain’t ever comin’ back here, boy, you can bet dollars to doughnuts on that I guarantee it.”

His anger kept his feet beating the ground for a while, but the midday sun soon turned to dusk and with it came the cooling effect of space and time. Elvis looked up to find that he had stalked a good ways down the river, and the path he walked along was now all packed red dirt lined with tall prairie grass and trees. Regret settled over him, and he kicked a pebble around wondering how upset Bob was gonna be with him. Or the fellas. He hoped that they knew what was up, that they understood what a shit show this gig was. It wasn’t his fault. He had done the only reasonable thing he could do if a crowd didn’t like him.

After all, it was Bob’s fault for booking them on a floating raft at a stupid hick carnival in the first place. He looked at his watch, it was past 6, and they had a 7 p.m. evening show. Elvis clicked his tongue, wondering if he should go back to the motel or wait and show up back at the stage just before 7. Give Bob a good scare. These thoughts, however, were soon interrupted by a loud call for help from the river. A woman’s yell.

Elvis ran to the river bank and spotted the screaming woman, grasping onto a rock as she tried to stop the current from carrying her downstream. He ran over and grabbed her hand, then grasped under her armpits to pull her out completely. Her white gown was so heavy, with layers and layers of wet crinoline underneath, that it caused him to fall back on the grass underneath her. Elvis lay there for a moment, panting as the girl clung to his chest. Her short brown bob was plastered to her head, and she sputtered water all over him as she caught her breath. On her hands were a pair of long, satin evening gloves that were lined with rhinestones sewn along the ridge. Looking her over, he realized her whole gown was shimmering in the dark with rhinestones.

“Like a twinkling angel sent down just for me.” He whispered, unaware he had said it out loud until the girls lips curled in to a smile, and she pushed herself up.

“Ha, you’re the angel, rescuing me.” She patted his chest. “And now I got you all wet.”

Elvis followed her with his body as she began to sit up, taking off his jacket and wrapping it round her.

“Oh, it ain’t no thang, miss. I like being covering in all your wet. I mean - I uh, well it - uh - it t’aint nothin’ is all. Here, you must be freezing.”

She giggled, as she drew his coat around her shoulders. “Not with you to warm me up.”

“Oh, I can do better than jus an old jacket.” He put his hands at her waist, looking into her eyes as he began to rub her sides up and down. “That ok, honey? Gosh, getting so dark out here, can’t tell if you have brown or green eyes?”

“Hazel.”

“Well, that splits the difference, don’ it.”

“Ha, well, they are hazel, but that’s also my name. Figured we should get acquainted, seein’ as you probably already know my measurements.”

Hazel chuckled as Elvis blushed. “Uh, well, they are some pretty fine measurements, if you don’t mind me sayin’.”

“No, I don’t mind. I don’t mind at all, in fact, you could hold me all day, I’m just so grateful you came along. Thought I was gonna drown.”

“Yeah, hey, say what were you doing going for a swim at this time of day.”

“Ha, dressed like this? It was not by choice, trust me - um - ?”

“Uh, oh yeah, I’m Elvis, Elvis Presley, pleased to meet you.”

Hazel looked down at where her lap straddling him and shivered. Their bodies were so close, that Elvis could feel the icy chill of her skin press down on him through his pants.

“Should I take you somewhere I can get you out of these clothes and in to someone warm, I mean into somethin’ warm?”

Hazel stood, handing him his jacket, as she stripped down to her sheer, white slip, tossing the soaking dress, crinoline and gloves onto the grassy hill near where they were sitting.

Elvis let out a whistle.

“Huh, I didn’t mean here, but man’o man, you won’t see me complainin’. Best show I been to all day.”

He stood up, wrapping her back in the now semi damp jacket, his fingers lingering at her waist, and then trailing over her cheek as he stared at her pale, white milky skin. It seemed almost iridescent Elvis in the low dusk of twilight.

“You feel a little more dry, but still too cold. Wanna go back to my motel and warm up?”

Hazel nodded, and let him lead the way. Once they got to the dirt path, he told her to jump on his back, explaining he didn’t want her lil feetsies to get all dirty, so Hazel perched over him as she navigated them back to town. It was well past 8 o’clock by the time he was sneaking her into his room, hoping that the others either weren’t back, or didn’t hear them. He looked at the clock and sighed.

“Oh well, guess I missed that show too.”

“What’s that?” Hazel asked, as she made her way past his out stretched arm and into the Wagon Wheel’s bright orange technicolor western-themed room.

“Aw, nothing. Say, you sure I can’t take you to get some clean clothes, or shoes? You from here or jus - ”

Elvis gulped and lost his train of mind as he watched Hazel sashay over to the sink and help herself to his toilette. He could see the outline of her white panties through her slip, and in the mirror, a set of pink nipples peeking through the front. It made him half aroused just watching her as she leant over the sink and used his make-up without asking.

“Trying to get rid of me? Don’t you like the way I look?” Hazel simpered with a pout as she turned to find Elvis mouth gaping open in awe at her. He put his hands on his hips to look cool, but missed them completely, unable to find them because he was so distracted by her beauty. He rested them at the top of his thighs instead, which he told himself also looked very cool. Very suave.

“I, uh, um, uh - I. Course I think you look good, suga.”

He heard his words crack and paused to take a deep breath and deepen his voice. Reminding himself to be the ladykiller he knew he was. This gal was half naked and in his motel room, for chrissakes. Clearly, she dug him.

“I mean, yes, lil girl, you look good. Real good. Just worried bout how it will look like when I drive you home in the morning.” He winked and shifted from side to side, raising his eye brow and working very hard not to smile. Only dweebs smiled. Not studs like him.

“You’re sweet, you know, Elvis?” Hazel grinned up at him, as she walked to his wardrobe, and, to his dismay, started putting on some of his clothes. “Can I borrow this shirt and pants? I love pink lace. Look, we match!”

“Well, yeah, baby, whatever you want, but I mean, uh, those are men’s clothes, and well, ugh, they might smell like my cologne or something. Sure I can’t take you back to your place so you can at least grab something more ladylike?”

“No, honestly. I bet there are a lot of folks running around looking for me, I’d rather avoid the fray, if you know what I mean.”

Elvis walked over, as she hooked his pink striped belt extra tight so that she looked like a hobo, or pirate, the way his pants bunched up around her waist. Her slip was like a chemise, and with his white sports coat, Hazel was like Marlene Dietrich, but instead of a tuxedo, she was wearing his white suit with a pink, lace top. His fingers rubbed her side.

“You ok? Running away from something? Someone?”

Hazel nodded, as his arms circled around her. “You could say that. I’m the Carnival Queen, I was supposed to arrive at the amphitheater down on the river -

“I am well familiar with that floating hunk o junk.”

“Ha, well, I broke up with my fiancee yesterday. See, I decided I don’t wanna get married, I don’t wanna live in this town any more, and he does. He wants a wife, two and a half kids, the whole shebang. Anyway, he asked me to meet him at Stamper’s Bridge before the Carnival ceremony, and, gosh, boy did we get into it, I mean, we really had it out.”

“Did he push you in the river? Cuz if he did, I’m gonna kill him.”

“No. At least I don’t think he meant to, it was all such a blur. But then, he didn’t jump in to help me neither. Now I bet my family and half the town are running round, wondering why I didn’t show up to the crowning ceremony.”

Elvis rubbed her shoulder, sshhhing her. He was conflicted between getting up and punching the wall, and staying there to comfort this sweet, helpless lil girl who fate had placed in his care.

Hazel buried her head in her hands. “Ugh, it is all just so embarrassing. Rather just deal with it tomorrow.”

Elvis picked her up and spoke softly to her as he put her on the bed and began to rub her feet. “Man, your little toesies are so cold, baby, they blue.” He kissed the top of her feet, blowing on them. “Ta warm ‘em up.” Then he rolled clean, silky pink socks over them.

“Reckon these white loafers are too big for you, but at least they match ya outfit. Must be weird, wearing men’s clothing for the first time.”

Hazel smiled as she folded the top of her pink socks down to her ankles. “That’s ok. Suddenly I feel much more confident, like I could rule the world. Or understand math better.”

“Ha! You’re funny, you know that, lil Blue Toesies? These shoes do make me feel like I could conquer the world, though.”

She leaned closer to where he was kneeled between her legs. “You’re a sweet guy, Elvis. Would it be ok - could I - can I stay with you tonight?”

“Sho, honey, you the boss.” Elvis leaned closer to her, nuzzling her forehead with his nose. “Oh baby, why, you’re still cold as ice. Let’s go get you some food, any wheres ‘round here have good chili and hot coffee? That’ll get ya blood flowing ‘gain. Or, I have some other idea - ”

“ Stop! Let’s go to Mac’s Coffee shop, they have the best chili con carne in town.”

“Well, alright lil gal.” He intentionally used his deep, sexy voice as he stood, and his affect made Hazel giggle. “C’mon now, quiet ya cackling and show this hongry boy - I mean man, honnngry man, the way.”

The walk to Mac’s was not far, but Elvis kept his eyes peeled for Bill, Scotty or Bob, because he knew that they would be pissed that he had stormed off stage. Then missed the second show. He could hear Bob’s voice telling him it wasn’t professional behavior. Then he’d tell Bob what time it was, yes sireee, he’d set him straight. He just didn’t want to have that confrontation now. In front of a lady. He squeezed Hazel’s hand tight, and nearly fell off the curb at one point when he was sure he saw Bob from behind as they entered the coffee shop. But he’d been wrong.

Hazel had been correct, Mac’s did have the best chili con carne. The fact that it didn’t have any onions, unless you ordered them as one of your fixins’ sealed the deal for Elvis, and he licked his spoon with his last mouthful, then ordered two chili dogs and an side of fries.

“I’m a growing boy.” He smacked his lips and wiggled his eyes at Hazel’s and squeezing her waist.

The guy on the other side of the counter walked by again and gave them a curious stare, his eyes lingering on Hazel as if he recognized her, but wasn’t sure.

Elvis nodded his head at him. “What’s his deal, he keeps looking over atcha?”

“I guess it’s not every day he see’s a girl with my amazing taste in fashion.”

“You do look good in my clothes.” Elvis smirked. “Look even better out of ‘em.”

“You’re a naughty boy, Elvis Presley.”

Hazel pinched his knee, and their eyes locked in a tender gaze. It felt to Elvis as if they had been lovers for years, not strangers who had just met. She had an open heart, like him, he could tell. And a sense of humor. He almost asked her to marry him then and there. But then he remembered that Bob had told him to stop doing that on tour, it wasn’t professional. So, instead, he had learned other nice stuff he thought made girls happy.

“Gosh ya so pretty. Can’t believe I met such a pretty gal today, this way. Feels bad to call it luck. But that’s how I feel, Baby Blue Toes. Lucky.”

“Aw, I - I bet you say that to all the girls.”

“Only the pretty girls ones I fish outta rivers.”

“Ha! You are funny. You’re a funny boy.” She blushed as he swing his chair around to hit her knees against his. “What do you do, funny boy? Are you a traveling salesman?”

Elvis laughed and stood up momentarily, motioning to his outfit. “What about these clothes says traveling salesman to you, baby doll?” He pulled on his white lace shirt. “I’m a singer, me and my band, well, we were here performing at the Carnival.”

“Ever on the radio?”

Elvis took a long sip of his coffee, eyeing the rest of the coffee shop. It was mostly empty, with another couple at one of the booth’s in the back, and then a Black man drinking coffee over on the side of the counter marked for “Black Folks Only.” Elvis nodded when he looked up from his newspaper, then whispered to Hazel.

“Uh huh. Ever heard ‘That’s Alright Mama’?”

Hazel hit him, and squeaked. “Yes!” The other patrons looked other, and Elvis grinned awkwardly. “It came out last month, didn’t it?”

“Na uh, baby. Why, it’s been spinning on the radio for over a year. Maybe you just ain’t listened at the right time. Better late than never, I s’pose.”

“Sing something for me?”

“Here?”

“Why not? You’re leaving town, you’ll never see any of these people again. Could be the only night we have together. Why not, who cares what anyone thinks?”

Elvis shook his head, his eyes laughing as he jumped up, and walked over to the juke box with a cocksure swagger. Hazel laughed when she heard the opening of that old Mel Torme record, Blue Moon. Elvis leaned against the juke box and called out to her across the restaurant.

“Better get that sweet little butt over here, Hazel, if you wanna hear me sing.”

Hazel looked at the guy behind the register, shrugged apologetically, and then jumped up to join him. Elvis took her hand, massaging it with his own, trying to get rid of the chill that lingered through Hazel’s extremities. Then he put his hand at her waist, and lead her in a small circle, swaying, as he sang along to the tune. Changing the words, of course.

Blue Toes, you saw me standing alone

With out a dream in my heart, without any wet clothes on

Hazel’s laughter was infectious, Elvis wanted to do whatever he had to keep her laughing. Her smile lit up her face, her whole body, and it didn’t matter that she was only wearing a little mascara, with over sized clothes bunched up at her waist. She was the most lovely, ethereal creature he had ever seen. As they walked back to the hotel, he gaped in awe at the way her skin glittered like faery dust in the light of the harvest moon. They talked and talked as Hazel held his hand, leading him around the town square, pointing to the clothing store her family owned, asking him if he liked singing and what he wanted out of life.

Back at the motel, he closed the door softly behind them as a quiet nervousness worked up his back. He looked her in the eyes.

“Everythin’”

“Everything?”

“That’s what I want, I reckon it sounds silly, but I growed up without much. Now, I want everythin’ I ain’t never had. All the cars, jewelry, houses, girls - everythin’”

Hazel nodded. “Makes sense.”

“You?” His face was shy, and he leaned against the door lock, trying to read the situation and his next move.

“I don’t know. I just want to be in the moment. And right now, Elvis Presley.” Hazel put her arms around him, and closed her eyes. It made all the blood rush to his penis to have her lean on him this way, looking so innocent as she answered him in a breathy, low voice. “I just want you.”

He helped her take off his clothes as he carried her to the bed in her slip. “Oh baby, I feel the same way.”

She tasted like chili spice and coffee, and her whole body shivered with a chill. Elvis rubbed her up and down, over her hips, her legs, the sides of her ribs. Then he crawled over her to warm her with his body heat, and his eyes closed as he felt her knee go up between his legs.

“Goddamn.” He muttered, grazing over it delicately at first, then grinding harder.

He cupped her face.

“Are you ok?”

“Mhmmm.”

“Tell me to stop, at anytime, ok, baby? Ain’t gonna do nothin’ you don’t want me to.”

Hazel nodded, her mouth hung open and longing animating her eyes. They were like two jewels affixed to the top of a beautiful, pale ivory tower. A tower he wanted to climb. Her skin was still cool, it and soothed the volcano boiling underneath his calm, steady visage.

Her lips twitched apart as his fingers delicately made their under her slip, and he arched his eyebrow in a silent request as he started to work her panties off.

Bill, Scotty and DJ must have just gotten back, because he heard a group go into Scotty’s room and begin pounding the wall before they burst into a fit of drunken giggles.

“Don’t listen ta them, that’s my band. Those jackasses is jus teasin.”

“It’s ok, it’s ok. I know what it’s like to have friends.”

Elvis grinned down into Hazels warm, inviting smile as his lips ghosted over hers. He could feel her lashes mingle with his and it was so perfect, he didn’t want to spoil the moment, he wanted to remember her like this forever. So he took it slow. Pressing into her mouth gradually, stretching out this first contact for as long as he could. Then breathing into her mouth as it cracked apart, and sinking onto her bottom lip to caress over it back and forth, flicking the tip of his tongue inside.

His fingers slipped inside her labia, and looked around until he found her button. It made her moan out, loudly, even though Elvis was still awkwardly fumbling his way around the clitoris, trying to figure out how to touch it in a way that got her to moan out again.

“That ok, honey?”

“Uh huh, just, just a little to the left, softer, softer, oh god!”

He laughed in her neck, satisfied at his machinations, then sat back, spreading her labia so he could watch what he was doing. He spit into his hand, like Bill and Scotty had told him to do, like he had with other girls. The wetter the better, Bill had said, drives women wild the you get that button at the top of their cooch all slippery and fiddle with it.

“How’s that?”

Hazel opened her eyes and looked up at him, her eyes rolling back as he moved his thumb back and forth on the side of her little nub.

“It feels really good. I - I never had anyone touch me, not like this. Never had anyone ask how I liked it, neither. And, well, I never go to third base with someone I just met.”

Elvis kissed her on the check. “S’destiny, honey. I was meant to find you today. Meant to make you feel good.”

Her hand went to his groin, and palmed over the stiff length she found there. She paused at his belt.

“I believe you were. How about you, Elvis, can I make y-y-you feel g-g-g-ood?”

Elvis stilled her hand. “Ya are, honey, ya are. Doin’ this makes me feel good.”

Eyebrows furrowed in concentration, Elvis smiled as he found a spot that made Hazel quiver when he flicked over it, and around it, and back and forth beside it. With a tentative glance, upward, he bent down and parted her lips, kissing her public hair as he affectionately began to lick over where his finger had been. Hazel cried out, arching her back and thrusting further in to his face at the sensation.

Elvis laughed in to her as his hands moved to hold her steady. The succession of breathy moans his tongue elicited was so exciting, he could feel his foreskin roll up against his trousers. Diving between Hazel’s legs was like jumping into a cool creek back in Tupelo on a hot July day. It was sweet and soothing, and he chased the cool taste of summer that he found there, flattening his tongue against her as he worked to figure out how to make her moan out again.

He felt her tremble, and looked up to see her face contort in to a thousands states of pleasure. Watching her come undone and cry out her release as she convulsed around his head sent Elvis over the edge. He felt his own dam burst below where his hips rocked back and forth over the bed spread and shuddered his release into the side of his pants. Heaving, he collapsed into her waist while his hands now moved languidly over her cool belly and the room was still save for the sounds of their shattered breath.

The boys had obviously heard them and clanging against the wall again, crying out Oh Elvis! in high, falsetto voices.

Elvis grimaced as he climbed up the bed to lay next to Hazel and wiped his mouth on his arm before pulling her into him.

“Trust me, I am gonna kill those boys tomorra.”

She rolled on to his chest with her eyes closed and a big, sated smile on her face.

“Aw, they love you, Elvis. They only tease you because they love you.”

‘Huh. Maybe.” He soothed her head, and brought the blanket over them as they settled deeper in to the bed. “Aw honey, still feel kinda chilly. Wish I didn’t have to leave, wish I could stay with you forever, keep you warm. We’re the perfect fit, you know that? Everyone always tells me I run hot, and well, you, you run cold.”

“I know you have to go. Maybe I’ll see you at one of your engagements. I think I’m gonna move to Little Rock, ever go through there?”

Elvis kissed her head and wrapped his arms around her tight. “You better believe it, go through Little Rock every tour. Wanna see you there, right at the front of the stage.”

He squeezed her to him even closer, enjoying the way she rubbed over his lace shirt as they drifted off to sleep talking about nothing and everything.

It was 10 or so the next morning when Elvis awoke to find his bed empty and the clothes she had worn strewn throughout the room. He rubbed his head. “Did she walk home barefoot? In a slip?” He muttered to himself as he changed his clothes and went to pound on the boys motel rooms so they could all go forage for breakfast together.

The men gave him a hard time, rubbing his head and asking how many little girls he had in his room that night. They didn’t mention the performance, as if they had previously agreed to let Bob handle that one.

Elvis shoveled another mouthful of his biscuits and gravy into his mouth as he tried to describe Hazel to them. “You boys don’t understand, she was like an angel sent from heaven just for me. I gotta see her again.”

A waitress went by with a pot of coffee, and Elvis grabbed her wrist, motioning for a refill. As she clucked an “ouch, alright alright” at him, he had an idea and spoke to her with a mouth full of biscuity sausagey gravy.

“Scuze me ma’am, you wouldn’t happen to know the name of the Carnival Queen, would you? Hazel? Hazel sumpin’? Folks own the small department store off tha square ova there?”

The waitress’ face went ashen and she shook her head before stomping away.

“What’s up her butt?”

The older man sitting on the other side of Bill leaned over.

“Y’all must be confused. Hazel Stein was the Carnival Queen last year, and what happened to her was a tragedy. A damn waste of a pretty little girl.”

Elvis’ mouth hung open, and he looked to Bill and Scotty. “Nah, can’t be. I just met her. Hazel, you say, the Carnival Queen?”

“Yup.” The old man nodded. “Fell in to the river and drowned. Why, musta been a year ago yesterday.”

Elvis head spun, and he nearly choked. She had been real, she must have been. He could still smell her scent of summer on his face and hands.

**************************************************************

so this is a one-shot, and I'll just take a stab in the dark at a tag-list. Let me know if you would like to be removed or added to one-shots or holiday/season whatnots and so forths.

@moonchild-daniella @ashtag6887 @artlover8992 @richardslady121 @louisejoy86 @freudianslumber @dkayfixates @kingdomforapony @j-v-9-2 @literally-just-elvis-fics @ab4eva @i-r-i-n-a-a @horror-movieshoes @everythingelvispresley @doll-elvis @18lkpeters @tacozebra051 @notstefaniepresley @lillypink @jessicarcates

#elvis presley #elvis fanfiction #elvis x oc #elvis #elvis presley fanfiction #elvis fanfic #elvis-o-ween #spooky not scary #banditqueenwrites #1955 Elvis #halloween fic #halloween

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dammarchy211 · 1 year

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Rejoice! Donatella backstory headcanons be upon ye!

Donatella was raised by her widowed mother, Lorenza, with her 4 sisters, living in a small town in Italy. After years of performing as a figure skater and dancer, Lorenza was finally able to settle down in a town with her now deceased husband. A mix of the death of her husband, and the hoops she had to jump through to get her life as good as it was for her and her daughters, Lorenza suffers from the same personality defects has Alma from Encanto (though I had actually made Lorenza before that movie came out haha). She pushed all of her children to pursue the same career she did, as she that’s what she knew how to teach them best, as well as pushed them to all hold themselves with the same grace and elegance associated with their profession. Constantly. Francesca was always the troublemaker child, but in twin cliché fashion, her and Dona always went everywhere together. Eventually when Dona was around 16, and sick of the grueling practice, being sheltered, and the closed off behavior of her mother, she decided to run away with the circus that had come to her town. It wasn’t Augustus that originally made her go, though he was nice and she liked him a lot, it was really the freedom. Lucy (though Marona at the time) was so much more warm and welcoming than her mom, and while her dancing and skating training would come in handy with the acrobatics, it wasn’t something she was forced to do. So she left in the night and never turned back. However due to the fact she wasn’t just leaving her mother behind (and the fact that she was leaving her mother behind, she still loved her regardless), it’s something that STILL eats Dona away inside, so she never really told any of her children about any of her family members. She’s more of a sweep anything that’s troubling you under the rug kind of person.

She wrote to her mother over the years, telling her about her life and just trying to keep in touch in some way, but she never got any messages back, despite Lorenza still reading the letters (Somehow her mother can hold a grudge for that long). The main reason Dona was so upset that Raz had run away, is that she really didn’t want to face the hurt she had caused her own family, and fearing she had become too much like her own mother, she masked it with passive aggressiveness.

I’ll just briefly go over their personalities too !

Fran: Even though Dona kinda got put on Lorenza’s shit list permanently for running away to the circus, Fran is this the one she butts heads with when it comes to family members she’s actually in touch with. She’s a famous fencer! Something her mom wasn’t the happiest about but she grew to at the very least tolerate it over time. Fran is very bold and extroverted, as well as a romantic and chivalrous person when it comes to her fiancée. She loves action and despite holding some contempt for her closest family member running away, she mostly just really misses her. If anything, she just wished Dona had brought her with her. Despite not following her mother’s career path that she set for her children, Francesca is probably the most well known out of all of them.

Pippa: Pippa is the second youngest after the twins! She does figure skating like her mother, and has At Least one kid (who is named Michelangelo or Mikey for short). She’s the biiig gossip or the family, and loves talking, which is basically how she’s been her whole life. After Dona left, her and Fran grew a little bit closer (but still not as much as her and her twin). Pippa is a bit of the glamor girl, but she’s very nice and bubbly, and when it comes to gossip she just likes to hear and talk about drama, not really insult people. As a kid she tried her hardest to be like her oldest sister, Giovanna, which worked out for her in some ways, but put pressure on her in others.

Imelda: Imelda is a bit closed off and introverted. She’s not openly shy, but she prefers to spend her time not talking. She used to be a dancer (more specifically ballet) but changed careers to something more “practical” like a business or research based job (idk yet like an accountant or data analyst or smth) when the dancing wasn’t really working out. I could mmmaybe see her having children but probably not.

Giovanna: Giovanna is the oldest, and golden child. She never really experienced parentification, their mother fussed over them a lot, but she was still held up to the standard of the example for her younger sisters. This caused her to be much closer with her mother than any of her sisters. She also found herself scolding her sisters for her mom. Giovanna ended up being a figure skater like her mother.

Lorenza: I feel like I talked about her a bit in the backstory already but like, imagine Alma from encanto, yeah. She’s super passive aggressive when she sees Donatella again. After a whiile she comes around and sees where she went wrong, and they keep in touch. Nona thinks she has a stick up her ass, and Lorenza is a peeved her grandkids call their non-Italian grandma ‘Nona’ (Dona’s like “I’m sorry they picked it up from me!! I didn’t think they’d ever meet you!” Which just makes things worse.) queue running joke of the Aquato kids trying to think of something to call Lorenza instead of Nona.

OKAY TOPIC SHIFT. HERES FRAN AND HER FIANCÉE I LOVE THEM SO MUCH!!!

Gay aunts win

#my art #psychonauts #thedamtalkingtag #psychonauts art #psychonauts fanart #donatella aquato #psychonauts donatella #psychonauts original character #psychonauts oc #psychonauts ocs #psychonauts headcanons #original character art #Francesca Ghiaccio #Fen-Fang Yuen #Lorenza Ghiaccio #that’s all I’m tagging rn I don’t have much content I’d probably post for everyone else but that might change #reminder that Dona’s family is still romani in this !!#also ik it says Dona met Agustus when she was 19 in scrapped dialogue but I don’t care it’s scrapped❤️#maybe that’s when they started dating or smth

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collaredattachment · 4 months

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First meetings (Amanda, Tiffany, Dani)

Home Depot, 9:45pm

Your shift has been grueling and you're more than eager to start closing up, but a woman rushes in so quick she nearly bumps into the automatic door

She's skittish; her fingers twitch rhythmically, and she keeps adjusting her hood to sit better over her head

You drowsily watch her circle the store for ten minutes

Eventually she grows frustrated and lifts her head

The look in her eyes nails you into place. There's more sclera than iris, and it makes her look like a dog straining at its chain

She marches toward you with the determination of someone about to kill, and you almost want to disappear between the shelves and hope someone else will pick up your slack

In the end you stand your ground, though, and try to hide the soft tremble of your fingers. She stops so close to you that she nearly steps on your toes

"I need an external hex screw," she says. No hello, no introduction. Definitely no smile.

Now she's up close, she's barely even looking at you. Her eyes comb through everything but your face, starting from the meandering customers at the back and ending at the gardening tools you were lazily organizing. She reminds you of a nervous rat scanning for trouble

"This way, ma'am," you eventually say and begin to lead her down the isle

The walk is completely silent, and the whole way the woman keeps glancing at you like you're not moving fast enough

"We don't have them individually packaged, unfortunately," you say as the shelf is in sight

She only nods in reply

"Did you have a size in mind?"

Another nod, no elaboration. Her eyes scour the row you gesture at, and then she snatches the box she needs off the shelf

Without a word, she turns and heads off, presumably toward the exit

You can't help staring at the back of her head as she goes. It's not like this is the first rude customer you've ever come across, but there's something haunting about her, like you'd just dodged a bullet by not making conversation

Regardless, there's a gnawing curiosity somewhere in the back of your head, an itch in the tips of your fingers, a desire to know more

You entertain the idea of going after her, asking her name and why she looks so out of place at a hardware store near closing time

By now she's probably shoved cash at the poor guy working the register and barrelled out the door, and it is much, much too late to do anything about it

As much as you agonize over it, you end up leaving the show half an hour early

It was supposed to be a fun Friday with thrash metal and friends, but all you got was the worst migraine in a year

To crown it all off, you miss your bus by mere seconds because the driver couldn't wait for you to catch up - even though you're sure he saw you waving

Your place isn't that far, only a thirty minute walk or so, but at this hour you'd have much preferred to sit down and listen to your ears ring than dodge creeps on the sidewalk

There's no real option, though, so you swallow the string of curses that teases the tip of your tongue and get going. At the very least it's not raining anymore

Three turns and an alley later, you jaywalk across the street and come to the front of a closed up video store. The neon lights still blink, but the building is nothing but bones anymore

Right by the corner, her face drowned by shadows, stands a woman. The fishnets alone are enough to catch your attention

"Got a light?" she asks. Her voice is smooth and crackly, like nails on worn denim

You couldn't possibly consider walking past her. You don't know if it's the poorly bleached hair, the leather jacket or the legs as long as your journey home, but you stop in front of her and dig through your pockets

After an awkward second or two, you pull out a cheap plastic lighter with a scratched label and flick it on

Her grin is hungry as she leans forward to let the flame lick her cigarette

After she's taken a drag, she looks you up and down

"What's a pretty thing like you doing out so late?"

You shrug and clear your throat. "Missed my bus."

"Public transit, am I right?" She laughs - the sound is cheap and dirty like pennies against marble. She takes another drag and blows the smoke right in your face

You fight off the instinct to cough and hope that you might have impressed her by inhaling as slow and smooth as you can make it

She doesn't say anything else, but the way she looks at you shifts. The way she delicately squints her eyes feels searching, like she's assessing you

The realization of where and when you are strikes you like sparks across the back of a match and you take this as your sign to get going

"I'm in a hurry, but um." You pause, unsure of how to remove yourself from this situation without offending her. "Have a good night."

The woman lifts her cigarette at you with a smile

You keep peeking over your shoulder the entire way home, because even after you've turned the corner you swear you can feel her eyes on your back

It's only after checking the lock on your front door three times that you can really breathe

The campus library has never been a particularly busy place, but tonight it is even more sparingly occupied than usual

It doesn't take long to find the textbooks you were looking for, so you take a few moments to browse; see if there's anything interesting in the sociology section, or maybe something on philosophy to read before bed

As you pass historical non-fiction, you see her out of the corner of your eye

It's that woman from introduction to cognitive science who always arrives late and leaves five minutes early. She's tucked at the furthest end of a table between two massive hardwood shelves, and it doesn't take long to figure out that she's crying

She holds her sleeve against her mouth but the look on her face is almost frightening. Her eyes are squeezed shut and there's a crease between her brows so deep it could've been carved with a knife

You stand there looking like a fool, shoes glued to the floor because you can't help but stare

She opens her eyes and pulls her head up to breathe in, but her inhale is splintered, like her lungs have lost all sense

Then she turns and reaches for something in her bag with trembling hands - her phone

She types something, bent in half at the waist, and then wipes her forehead with her sleeve

She has to hold the table for support as she rights herself, and as she lifts her head to look at something, maybe the clock over your head, she sees you

There's this look in her eye, like a child caught stealing

Guilt. Fear. Knowledge of the fact that she's out of place and she's been seen

She throws her books into her bag, zips it up and rushes past you, nearly tripping over her feet as she bumps into you

"Hey, are you-" The words follow the woman in a dripping echo, but either she can't hear you or she's choosing not to

The few people in the building glare at you and your raised voice, and you try to ignore the heat creeping up the neckline of your shirt

You almost run to the self checkout, but by the time you've made it out the door, the woman is long gone

If she makes it to class next week, maybe you'll try and talk to her

Maybe

#Amanda Young x Reader #Tiffany Valentine x Reader #Dani Ardor x Reader #Reader #Amanda Young #Tiffany Valentine #Dani Ardor

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alj4890 · 2 months

Note

I got this from this incorrect quote generator. I need you to do something with this! lol

😂 I'm still dying with all those you shared. I'm adding that other you sent me with this one

I'm setting this at the time these two were keeping their relationship a secret from everyone except his two closest friends. And I have no idea how this ended up the way it did. Nothing at all like I had planned 😂

Masterlist

Admittance

(Tobias Carrick x F!MC) in a Choices Open Heart One Shot

It felt like a never ending work week. Chris couldn't remember the last time she slept for longer than a couple of hours at a stretch. With the mad rush of flu patients coming in and out of the E.R., she'd begun to daydream of spending her entire time off in her bedroom, curtains closed, and having the best sleep of her life.

She collapsed upon her soft bed after a particularly grueling shift, only moving when she heard the ringtone she'd chosen for her favorite doctor.

"Lo?" She managed to get out.

"I don't even rate a full hello?" Tobias teased.

"You're lucky to get that." She mumbled. "I think I barely acknowledged Jackie when I walked past her earlier."

She didn't have the energy to muffle her yawn.

"I don't think I've ever been this tired."

"I take it our date tonight is off?" He asked, already disappointed at the fact he wouldn't get to see her.

Chris sat up with a groan. "It can't already be Thursday!"

"It is.

"Damnit." She slumped back against her headboard. "I was looking forward to tonight."

"I was too." Tobias sighed. "Want me to sneak over and at least bring you dinner?"

Chris perked up at that offer. "You don't have to sneak. Aurora is already in bed and the others are working the night shift."

"Then I'll see you soon." He promised.

Chris looked down at her tank top and pajama bottoms. The thought of taking them off seemed too horrible to contemplate.

"Do you mind if I don't dress up? I just got out of the shower and put on some pajamas. I think it might kill me to change clothes."

"You know I don't care." He reminded her.

Her smile grew bigger when she heard the flirty lilt to his deep voice.

"You know, I don't think I've ever seen you in pajamas before. I think it's about time I got a peek at your bedroom too."

"I suppose it is only fair." Chris teased. "After all, you are a very gracious host whenever I want to see your bedroom."

"I aim to please." He responded. "And you know if you feel the need to relax without those pj's, I certainly won't complain."

She burst out laughing. "Nice try, Dr. Carrick. Right now, you'll be lucky if I have enough energy to answer the door when you knock."

"Take a nap." Tobias ordered. "I'll call when I'm at the door."

***************

A little over an hour later, Chris roused herself from her bed and padded down the hallway.

"Hey." Tobias whispered, once she opened the door.

She smiled sleepily into his kiss and leaned a little more against him when he wrapped his arms around her.

"You know, you could have told me to wait until tomorrow to see you." He reminded her.

"But I didn't want to wait." She snuggled within his arms. "This is what kept me going this week."

Her eyes flew open when he picked her up bridal style.

"Tobias!" She hissed. "Put me down!"

"Shut the door." He whispered, cuddling her close.

Dropping her head back with a groan, she quietly shut the door.

"Now?" He pressed his lips to her neck. "Where's your room?"

"Last door on the left." She bit back a moan when he kissed a path up to her ear.

She looped her arms around his neck as he carried her down the hall.

Once inside, he set her down on her bed, pressed another deep kiss to her lips, then shut her bedroom door.

"Now." He held up a bag of Chinese takeout. "Let's eat."

Chris smoothed her blankets and retrieved a towel to set the food on.

"Not bad." Tobias looked around her room. "Now I know the setting to put you in when I fantasize about you."

"You still fantasize about me?" She couldn't stop smiling over that tidbit.

He took his shoes and jacket off before sliding under the covers with her.

His eyes raked over her, taking in how her tank top hugged her curves.

"You bet I do."

"Hi." He winked at her.

"Hi." She kissed him.

Tobias wrapped one of her curls around his fingers, pulling her closer for a longer kiss.

"We don't have to eat, if you'd rather properly christen my first time here in your bedroom."

Chris playfully pushed him then reached for one of the takeout containers.

"If I'm going to do anything remotely sexy, I need food."

"Heaven help me if you get any sexier."

"Oof. You're not giving me much of a chance to resist you."

"I never do." He reached for one of the boxes of Kung Pao chicken. "I hate to admit it, but I've always been irresistible."

Chris hummed her agreement as she ate.

"When I was young," he continued, "I left a trail of broken hearts like a rockstar. I'm not proud of it."

Rolling her eyes, she reached for her drink.

"Chris?" Tobias eyed her. "Are you jealous?"

"You're kinda proud of it." She took a sip. "You work it into a lot of conversations."

Her tone caught him off guard.

"No." She grumbled. "What do I have to be jealous about?"

"Nothing." He scooted closer to her. "You know you don't have anything to be jealous of when it comes to my past."

"It isn't jealousy!" She snapped. "I could care less about all your women."

"Former women." He emphasized.

She rolled her eyes again with a huff.

"Honestly it isn't them or the number of," she made quotation marks with her fingers, "former women."

"Then why do you sound upset?" He persisted.

"For one thing, I'm exhausted." She folded her arms across her chest.

Tobias got up, and began to pace the small confines of her room. He knew by her waspish tone and that arm folding maneuver that she was precariously close to losing that temper of hers.

"Look," he began in an attempt to avoid a fight, "I would have understood if you wanted to cancel our date so that you could sleep. I think I'm pretty good at that boyfriend type behavior."

"Awwwww." Chris sarcastically responded. "Aren't you so bloody precious?"

Tobias glared at her.

"What's this really about?" He demanded.

"The fact that you always say, trail of broken hearts!" She griped. "As if, not only are you proud of it, but also that..."

She trailed off when tears began to fill her eyes at the thought of what he might really mean.

"But also what?" He prodded in a gentler tone when he noticed she was about to cry.

"But also like it's a warning," she bit down on her bottom lip, "to me."

She looked away when he sat down beside her once more.

"It's not a warning." He tried to pull her into his arms. "Especially not to you."

Chris refused to budge.

"Right." She bit out. "Because I'm so special."

"You are." He insisted. "To me you are."

He gave up when she turned away from him. He flopped back on her pillows and tried to think of a way to salvage their evening. Rubbing his hands over his face he released an aggravated groan.

"Did I or did I not admit to being in love with you?" He bit out.

"You did."

"Then there you go!" He threw his hands up as if that solved everything.

"What are you talking about?" Chris turned towards him.

"You are the only woman I've admitted that to. The only one I felt like saying that to. The only one I've ever fallen in love with." He explained. "So me joking about all my one night stands doesn't matter."

He rolled on his side to face her.

"Because you, Christy Valentine, won't be broken hearted. I'm the one who would be devastated if I manage to screw us up."

"There you go again!" She growled.

Before he had a chance to respond, her lips crashed down on his.

He moaned as she pushed him on his back and straddled him without breaking the kiss.

"Shame on you." She slowly shook her head. "Won't even let me eat before seducing me."

He didn't bother to hide his smug smile.

"I'm sorry." His hands drifted over her body. "Any chance I can make it up to you?"

"I don't know." She reached over and set the food containers on one of her nightstands then slid back down on top of him. "I suppose you could try."

His lips curved even more as he slipped her shirt off.

"I'll give it my all." He promised.

*****************

The next afternoon...

"About time you two showed up." Dean greeted. "I was about to call and see what the holdup was."

"And I was about to ignore all good manners and eat without you." Will hugged Chris.

"Sorry we're late. I was doing things." Tobias responded.

"Hi. I'm things." Chris hugged Dean next.

Dean and Will snickered as Tobias covered his face. He couldn't hold back his own laughter over Chris's boldness.

"Good to know you two weren't doing something boring and holding up lunch." Will teased.

"I can forgive and commend doing those types of things." Dean winked at Chris. "A simple text of I can't get out of bed, go on without me would have sufficed."

"Not that we're opposed to details." Will added.

"I'll try and remember that." Tobias reached for his glass of water.

His hand settled over the one Chris had set on his leg.

She smiled at him, squeezing his thigh gently.

Unable to resist how adorably unrepentant she looked for outing their activities to his friends, he leaned over and kissed her.

"I said, details." Will teased. "Not demonstrations."

Dean threw his napkin at them when the kiss continued.

"Enough!" He couldn't stop chuckling at the two entwined. "Remember there's those of us who are still painfully single sitting here."

The couple broke apart and shared a tender smile.

"I'm starving." Chris admitted while picking up her menu.

Will and Dean noticed Tobias looking awfully proud at that statement as he settled his arm along the back of her chair to pull her closer to his side.

Deciding to let that one go by without comment, the friends discussed what appetizers to share with the couple.

#tobias carrick x mc #tobias x chris #choices open heart #open heart fanfic #choices fic writers creations #choices stories you play

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fishwithtitz · 1 year

Text

The Five Times I Hooked Up with Mary Goore (and the One Time I Couldn’t) - Chapter 2

Summary: From beside me, I heard what sounded like a mix between a groan and a low breath. My brain told me to keep looking ahead, to ignore him, to wait until the movie was done and I was feeling better before finding Des and asking for somewhere to crash for the night. My impulsivity got the best of me and I slowly cast my eyes in Mary's direction. His eyes were slightly larger, the flickering light of the screen reflecting off the olive hue of his irises, and his bottom lip was just barely caught between his teeth. He clearly felt my stare because his head pivoted in my direction. His gaze was nearly smoldering.

Rating: Explicit, 18+ MDNI

Mary Goore x OFC / 8.5k words

Warnings: language, graphic description of oral sex, graphic depiction of manual stimulation, recreational drug use, alcohol, light gore

ao3 link

Chapter Two: Hook-up #2: The Den

Five hours. Five long, arduous hours of measuring, mixing, cooking, cooling, trimming, crumb-coating, frosting, and piping. I was almost certain that I had inhaled flour or powdered sugar at some point as my nose felt gritty and raw on the inside, but I tried my best to pay it no mind. I was on a mission.

It had been a few weeks since the house show at Thomas’ place (and the subsequent tonguelashing from Mary on the weather-torn roof), and I’d had done my best to try to write it off as the once-in-a-lifetime experience that I’d tried to originally pacify my nerves with.

It turned out that Thomas and Des had hit it off at the party, in more ways than one. I couldn’t say that I was necessarily surprised; Des was charming, alluring, and very persuasive when she wanted to be. Ever since she’d locked eyes on Thomas at the smoky bar downtown a couple of months ago, she’d known she had to have him, and to her credit, she’d accomplished it in record time. And honestly, I was happy for my friend. It had been a while since I’d seen Des so happy and free spirited while in the arms of someone she was so blatantly enamored with. However, I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t just a tad bit jealous of Thomas and the hold he’d captured on Desiree.

Routinely, weekends had been spent just the two of us together - Doll and Des - curled up on my worn couch watching trash TV or engaging in parallel play as we sent videos back and forth that had us laughing so hard that we were covered in equal parts tears, mascara, and snot. Takeout or a drunken “do” meal (as I grew up calling them) of randomly delicious ingredients thrown together and cooked often followed, and both of us banked more memories than we could count of bonding through the sillied, domestic tasks we enjoyed together.

Not the past few weekends, though.

I got it, believe me, I did, but after the third night in a row that I’d been blown off for either a bar or a bedroom, I couldn’t help but be a little bit worn down at my best friend’s new love interest. To avoid being the ever-dreaded third-wheel, I denied Desiree’s kind offers of accompanying them out or to Thomas’ house, which unfortunately meant many nights of movies alone and crappy blue-box mac eaten straight out of the pot.

So when Des came begging for me to use my baking talents to make Thomas a custom cake for his 30th birthday (Puss in Boots eyes and all), I didn’t even hesitate to agree to the task. I missed my friend, and although I wasn’t looking forward to slaving over the black-metal themed confectionary after finishing a particularly grueling shift at work, I was happy to do this for her. “Besides,” Des had said, “it will give you a chance to do something you enjoy and live a little.”

So, here I was: my grandmother’s old apron tied haphazardly across my curved waist, melted chocolate and white icing smeared across my forearms and the backs of my hands, and the tip of my tongue perched between my lips in concentration as I finished piping the intricate Baphomet head and pentacle on top of the three-layer cake. I glanced up at the microwave clock and felt my stomach drop deep in my guts. The party was in a little over an hour, and I still had to pack up the cake, shower, and make myself look at least semi-decent before heading over. Taking a step back, I admired my work. It wasn’t perfect, but I knew that if I kept fussing with it I’d inevitably fuck it up, so I dusted my hands off with a sigh and left the kitchen to hurry through a shower and makeup routine.

After a way-too-quick rinse and a blow-dry of my hair in record time, I futzed through my closet to try to find something acceptable to wear. It was warm out, so I opted for a dark-printed swing dress and a pair of worn, black sneakers. As always, I lived by the motto of “comfort before style,” and I was fresh out of fucks to give.

I ran my curling wand through the long tresses of burgundy hair that hung down my back and framed my face before putting on a light face of makeup. It was too warm to wear anything heavy, and despite my annoyance of my freckled cheeks, I didn’t want to spend the evening wiping flesh-toned grease from my face every time I felt a sweat droplet dripping down my jawline. Simplistic it was, then.

I fastened my weathered St. Peter’s Cross necklace to rest on my decolletage and gave myself a quick once over before hustling into the kitchen to pack up the cake. After finding a cardboard box, some saran wrap, and multiple crumpled up balls of newspaper stuffed around the cake, I was off.

🜏🜏🜏

“Doll, you’re here!” Desiree swung open the front door with a cheshire-like grin, beckoning me in with the wave of her hand. I smiled at my friend, feeling genuine happiness for her excitement of both the party and for us finally getting to see each other. Awkwardly, I stepped into the home and followed her through the short hallway to the garage. “I want the cake to be a surprise,” she said in a low, nearly-whispered voice, ushering me out towards the outdoor fridge.

We set the cake on a lower shelf, still hidden by the recycled box I’d used to transport it in. She took a quick glance at the hand-drawn decoration on top and her eyes went wide before she all but pounced on me in a tight hug.

“It’s fantastic!” she squealed, holding me firmly before pulling back to look at me properly. “Doll, I can’t thank you enough. It’s so fucking rad. He’s going to love it.”

I flashed my own warm smile in response and chuckled. “Of course, Des. If he’s important to you, he’s important to me.”

We headed back into the house and Des led me out to the back patio, motioning towards a cooler propped against the sliding glass door as she stepped onto the eroded deck. I grabbed a random beer from the red and white Igloo and sat down in a nearby plastic chair, crossing my legs as I twisted the top off the bottle.

“Happy Birthday, Thomas,” I said as I leaned over, clinking the tip of my bottle against his own. At this point, Des had slid into the seat next to him, resting her head on his shoulder as she absorbed herself into the conversation happening around us.

“Thanks, Dahlia. Glad you could make it,” He replied as he tipped his bottle towards me in salute and took a swig, smiling politely before turning back to the chat we’d interrupted. I looked around and noticed that this party was definitely much smaller than the last one I’d attended here. There were only about ten other people, most of them acquaintances or friends from the music scene, and I recognized a few of them as Thomas’ band mates.

Leaning back in my chair, I took a long sip of my beer and allowed the warm air of the evening to envelop me. I had to admit, this was nice. It’d been a while since I’d been around friends with no expectations or masks to wear. I could just be me. I could enjoy the banter between the boys of which Metallica album was most iconic (and why according to Johnny, it was definitely Master of Puppets, because “zero skips,” of course), or how Mark was told by a coworker that it was “gay to wash your butthole” and how he found it completely fucked that one, he didn’t wash his ass, two, his coworker was homophobic, and three, Mark finally knew where the smell in the stock room was coming from. At some point during the story, Johnny had lit a cigarette which was now dangling dangerously from his lips, ash falling onto his jeans pocket as Mark animatedly told the tale. Suddenly, he patted the ashen pocket and his eyes went wide.

“Oh shit! I forgot to give you your birthday present!” Johnny fished a square (and slightly smushed) package from inside his pocket. It was wrapped in what looked like an old titty magazine, but I couldn’t be completely sure from my distance away from him on the patio. He leaned forward and plopped it into Thomas’ lap with a grin. “Happy 30th, dude,” he beamed with a salacious smile. “You’re officially a senior citizen.”

“30’s still young!” he defended with a glare, thumbs inching under the duct tape holding the wrapping together.

A snort was heard from beside him, and Greg, one of the guitarists from his band, muttered something to the effect of, “Yeah, for trees,” under his breath, which earned an even harder scowl from Thomas.

Thomas ripped the wrapping off and turned the slightly smashed box over in his hand. “Heat?” he questioned as he squinted at the brand on the box. He shook it a little and gave the parcel a quick sniff. “...is this a box of chocolates?’ His eyes looked at Johnny questioningly, but his lips were curved into a curious smile.

“Yup!” Johnny replied as he took another drag from his cigarette. “They’re kind of a present for the both of you.” He motioned to both Thomas and Des as he spoke, smoke rising from his hand.

“Are they spicy or some shit?” Thomas asked as he tried to read over the back of the box, picking at the plastic wrap covering.

“You could say that…” Johnny grinned, ashing the cigarette and taking another drag. “I figured that since you’re so old now, you might need some help getting your dick to work.”

I had been mid drink of my half-downed bottle of beer at his comment, and I found myself snorting as I swallowed, immediately causing the fizzy liquid to seep its way into my lungs. I coughed loudly, which luckily covered my laughter. Des and I both leaned over to get a better look, and I glanced at the small print at the bottom of the box:

“The high-quality chocolate that uses natural ingredients to increase your pleasure and boost your sex performance.”

“Are these aphrodisiacs?!” Des yelled out incredulously, eyes wide as she stared at Johnny.

All of my efforts to hold back my laughter were gone as I tilted my head back and dissolved into uncontrollable giggles. I couldn’t even formulate what Des was screaming at Johnny (although I knew it was likely something hilariously angry and defensive), and I beamed at the ridiculousness of the situation. I hadn’t laughed so hard in weeks, and it felt good to let go a little. Though, I’d never admit to Des that she was right…I’d never hear the end of it, especially now.

The conversation was cut off by a pounding on the door followed by three succinct doorbell rings. Des shot up out of her seat, yelling “pizza!” as she ran toward the door, tapping my knee on the way out as if to nonverbally ask for help. I grunted and rolled my eyes, begrudgingly getting myself out of the chair as I followed her. She must have ordered a ton of food if she needed two people to carry it out back, I thought.

Des swung open the front door and her look of excitement slightly fell, but she kept her smile in greeting. “Oh, hey Mary,” I heard from my place behind her.

Mary? I thought to myself. I felt my stomach somersault in my gut and I unknowingly bit at my bottom lip.

I hadn’t really seen Mary since the house show a few weeks back. Sure, he and Thomas had probably hung out, and if Thomas was socializing with anyone these past few weeks, Des had to have been there, too. However, she never mentioned anything to me. Then again, it would make sense that she hadn’t — I had never let her in on my evening hanging out with Mary (only that we had talked on the patio that night), and I definitely didn’t tell her about his shitty beer slushies and the eventual redemption arc of his head between my legs.

“...Do you need some help with that?” Des questioned as she moved aside, watching as Mary balanced at least three giant packs of beer while stepping through the threshold. The heavy boxes made the muscles in his arms appear permanently flexed, each limb framed by the cut-off sleeves of what was once a short-sleeve Morbid Angel tee. He was deceptively strong, and images of those arms curled around my legs as he dipped his face between my thighs ramparted my mind. I couldn’t help but watch as he moved swiftly through the house and out onto the patio.

“Nah, I’m good,” Mary grunted as he hurriedly beelined for the back door, pushing the crack of the door opening to the side with his foot as he slipped through with his contribution to the party. I subconsciously licked my lips and followed Des as she made her way back out to the patio with a sigh. Apparently, she’d really been looking forward to pizza.

The patio crowd cheered as Mary appeared and Thomas got up to help him empty a couple of the boxes of beer into the cooler. I slipped into my seat quietly, almost hoping to avoid his notice, yet watched as his hands smoothed out the cans of Keystone in the ice to ensure they fit when the lid was dropped.

He must have felt me staring, because his eyes shifted up towards me, quickly locking on mine. I felt my heart rate begin to staccato in my caged chest and I did my best to keep my face fairly stoic, though I knew it was futile. Those eyes like spring, of sage and straw, glued me into place.

“Hey,” he said, ever nonchalant as he finished organizing the brews and secured the lid. I looked down briefly, trying to mimic his cool behavior, and then flashed him a small, polite smile.

“Hi,” I replied quietly.

Mary took a seat on the other side of the patio (it was the only empty seat available) and struck up a conversation with a couple of the guys and their girlfriends that were nearby. I tried my best to engage myself in the exchange happening between Thomas and Chassie (another mutual friend of ours), but my mind was swimming with snapshots of my evening with Mary. I mentally shook it off, likening my response to my all-too-often loneliness and trying to focus on celebrating Thomas’ milestone birthday.

Not long after, pizza came, and we hovered both in the kitchen and the patio as we listened to Sabbath playing over the speakers and shot the shit with one another. The more beer I drank and pizza I ate, the more I loosened up, and I found myself reconnecting with some of the old friends I used to see at various venues around town. Mary weaved in and out of the conversations, but I did my best to pay him just as much mind as anyone else. He didn’t seem phased by me, and surely, I wasn’t phased by him, either.

I heard the door to the garage slam, and Des’ voice echoed through the kitchen landing. “Move it, out of the way, come on,” she said as she weaved through the couple blobs of congregated bodies, the cake box obstructing her face enough that she had to peer out from the side to see. I met her at the kitchen counter and helped her to unsheath the cake from the box, gingerly peeling the plastic wrap from it.

“Oh, god damn it,” she exclaimed as she stared at the top of the cake. I felt my stomach drop with fear that I had messed something up, but it was quickly abated when she continued her sentence. “I fucking forgot candles.”

Mark, who was unknowingly standing behind us, fished through his pocket before brandishing a cigarette. He held it between his lips and lit it before plopping it dead-center into the cake, the smoking stick appearing as if it was perched in Baphomet’s mouth. I let out another chuckle and Des shrugged.

Mark moved to help Des carry the cake, but she slapped his hand away playfully in an act of defiance and likely in worry that his drunk ass would immediately drop it on the floor. Though somewhat heavier than she expected, she slowly glided across the open kitchen and into the dining area. Chassie noticed and yelled out “Hey, cake’s lit!” and waved a few people in (Thomas amongst them) from outside to the dated dining table.

A raucous chorus of “Happy Birthday” rang through the room as Des set the pitifully smoking cake in front of a now front-and-center Thomas. I could tell he was trying his hardest to hide his smile, but as he looked at Des with softened eyes, it was obvious how touched he was at the personalized gesture. The moment was immediately broken when one of the guys belted into his own rendition of the song, singing, “Happy Birthday to you, you’re older than poo. If you were a horse you’d be made into glue!” which earned deep laughter from the majority of the room.

The cake was a three-layer round cake coated in thick chocolate frosting. A bright white Baphomet stared ominously from the center of a pentacle, while swirling piping lined the borders and edges. Thomas took a moment to study the cake, shaking his head in mock-annoyance at the song. As he went to blow out the “candle,” he stopped just short of the cake, eyebrow cocked, and slowly removed the smoking (and now ashen) cigarette from the middle of Baphomet’s lips. Mark took it from his fingertips and inhaled before licking the chocolate off the filter with a shrug.

The cake was cut quickly by Des and passed out on whatever dinnerware Thomas had laying around the house. It didn’t take long for only crumbs to remain on the cake board — a badge of honor that I took with silent pride.

After everyone enjoyed their cake, additional pizza, and sweaty cans of beer, Mark sidled into the kitchen to stealthily pour himself a shot of vodka and a chaser of soda. The bottle of soda that he’d found hidden in the fridge had been nearly empty, and as he drained it, realization lit his face. “Shit, Tommy, there’s one more present we forgot to give you!” he yelled out as he grabbed the bottle and ran out to the patio.

Empty two-liter bottle in one hand and a bag of bud that he had fished out of his pocket in the other, he looked at the crowd on the deck with a grin.

“Anyone up for grav hits?”

🜏🜏🜏

A small group of people crowded around the stained tub in Thomas’ spare bathroom — one sitting on the closed toilet lid clothed in a fluffy cover, and two others leaning up against the side wall. I sat on top of the builder-grade countertop, legs crossed, a shiver dancing against my skin at the feeling of the cold formica on the backs of my thighs.

Mark sat on one side of the tub’s edge while he fashioned some tin foil to place over the top of the mouthpiece of the cut-off soda bottle. Thomas sat across from him watching intently while his hands clasped onto the bag of pungent flower. Only a handful of us had been interested in the present Mark brought for Thomas ( Des had decided to stay out on the patio with the rest of the crew). I didn’t mind — the bathroom was small and it already felt pretty cramped with the amount of willing participants. Plus, I saw this as opportune bonding time for Thomas and I.

My eyes studied Mark’s fingers absently as he pricked holes into the tin foil and began to load the bowl with a mixture of shake and bud, packing it almost fastidiously, his movements careful as to not drop it into the water-filled bathtub. After he was satisfied with his work, he proudly handed the makeshift contraption to Thomas and extracted a BIC lighter out of his jeans. “Want to do the honors, birthday boy?” he asked as he handed him the light.

Thomas sank down to his knees and crouched over the tub, lowering the sliced bottle into the water so that only the top third was left unsubmerged. He held onto the threads of the mouthpiece as he flicked the lighter with a quick flit. The flame etched the surface of the weed, leaves and flower petals curling into charcoaled darkness as smoke began to simmer and swirl in the bottle's thick body. Thomas focused on making sure the bottom of the bottle's cut-off edge remained submerged but that there was enough room inside to collect as much smoke as possible.

When he was satisfied, he removed the flimsy silver bowl and handed it to Mark quickly before fixing his mouth over the neck, inhaling deeply as he pushed the bottle down into the water. The thick haze slurped into his lungs almost instantaneously and he all but shot up, the plastic bottle bottom dripping as his face contorted into discomfort. He let out a series of coughs before grinning wide at Mark.

"Forgot how hard that shit hits-" he started, head shooting to the side when the door bolted open and almost hit the man standing behind it.

"Oh fuck, sorry," I heard, and I lifted my legs from their dangling position over the bathroom vanity to hug my chest, hoping to avoid getting smacked by limb, body, or door.

Mary slipped into the bathroom, his golden hair stringing into his eyes as he turned to fasten the door shut again. He stood awkwardly in front of the threshold as he realized there wasn't much room in the bathroom for him to stand. Thomas reached up and opened the small window above the shower to filter out some of the smoke before inching his way past the person on the closed toilet and the few against the wall.

"I'm gonna find Des. Thanks for this, man," he reached across and clasped his hand with Mark's in gratitude, grasping into the handshake tightly before slipping past Mary and out the door.

I sat awkwardly on the countertop, doing my best to keep my legs folded and out of the way while still ensuring my dress covered my crotch and ass. I could feel the cold metal faucet pressing into my back and my butt felt like it was about to slip into the basin of the sink.

Over the next ten or so minutes, I watched from my uncomfortable position as a few more people in the bathroom each took their hits, most of them leaving directly afterwards to find some air in a less-cramped space. Eventually, only myself, Mary, Mark, and the guy sitting on the john (who I’d learned was named Jesse) remained. Mark gestured to me as he dumped the ash from the foil into the clear water of the tub and began to fill the bowl again.

I hopped from the counter, smoothing the skirt of my dress as I slipped past Mary and toilet man, eyes straight ahead to avoid any contact. As I knelt in front of the tub, I felt the cool tile lick at my knees and the heels of my feet dig into my bottom. Mark handed me the bottle and lighter.

I could feel Mary’s stare from behind me, and while I’d like to say he was decent enough to keep his eyes above the belt, I was certain he had snuck a glance at my ass as I flicked the wheel of the lighter. Shaking the perverse thoughts that bombarded my head, I pulled the aluminum from the bong and lowered my head, lips dancing across the mouthpiece as I inhaled deeply and fully while expertly submerging the bottle.

It was as if I licked a fiery raincloud. The smoke hung heavy in the alveoli of my lungs, pricking at the blood vessels and sacs, and I closed my eyes to keep them from watering. I rose up and exhaled, my hand softly pushing the 2-liter to Mark as I turned and gently pushed past Mary to exit. My head was swimming and I was doing everything in my power not to cough. I didn’t want to make a complete ass out of myself. Unfortunately, that also meant I was holding my breath.

I could hear the dull thud of the music playing through the speakers outdoors and unremarkable chatter punctuated the beat. I didn’t even recognize the feeling of my feet against the Pergo as I padded down the hallway and across the landing, down the carpeted steps, and right into the den, sinking onto the worn plaid couch with another weighted exhale. My head was spinning and my stomach wasn’t far behind. Maybe smoking after a handful of beers wasn’t my smartest choice.

Eventually, I lowered my forehead to the armrest of the couch and closed my eyes, lifting my legs up to curl under me as I soaked in the cool quietude of the empty den. I sat there for what my mind registered as an eternity. The calm doused my speeding heart and helped me to keep the heavy reams of impending panic from erupting in my chest.

I melted into the firm side of the couch, brow bone melding with the scratchy plaid material, and reached an arm out to ground myself against the side table. I'm not sure how much time passed —it could have been a few minutes or nearly a half hour— but my body was lulled into a calmer, settled state when I heard the slap of a remote against something firm followed by some quieted curses. The click of plastic buttons on the TV console tickled my ears.

Within seconds, sound from the TV began to ring out in the quiet den, the volume loud enough to hear over the buzz outside but quiet enough as not to startle me. I felt the couch slump next to me and the scent of cigarettes, weed, leather, and musk whooshed into my nostrils from the movement. I craned my head up to look at the man next to me. I'm not sure why. I already knew it was Mary.

"Assholes found lawn darts in the shed outside and decided to set up teams. Fuck if I’m gonna get stabbed," He started, bringing a bottle of water to his lips. My eyes trailed his form. His legs were crossed at the ankles, boots perched on top of the coffee table in front of us, and at some point during the night he had put on his leather jacket. He looked over at me and his demeanor changed from one of kind indifference to one of concern. "...you good?" he asked, turning to face me.

"Mmph," I mumbled, trying my best to sit up straighter against the pillowy back of the couch. I licked my dry lips and realized for the first time just how cottony my mouth felt. "Too high."

Mary let out a soft chuckle and the nerves that I had spent time pushing down into my belly threatened to peek through again at the warm sound of his voice. “Not surprised," he said with a shrug, eyes flickering to the movie on the screen before falling back on me, "I’ve never seen a chick take a hit like that before. You’re a pro.”

I wanted to argue with him. In a much more sober state, I would have denied his compliment and told him that getting the spins from smoking bud was not the sign of a pro, but at the moment, all that came out of me was the sentence "I am liquid garbage." I licked my dry lips again and inwardly groaned at the Sahara that was my mouth.

“It’ll pass.” Mary reached over and handed me the water bottle he had been drinking. I smiled, recalling the last time he'd shared his beer with me weeks ago out on the patio, and I took a couple of swigs. Capping the bottle, I handed it back to him, sinking a little further back into the couch as I began to watch the scene unfolding on the screen.

"What movie is this?" I asked after a beat, bringing my legs to cross in front of me as I snuggled into the pillows resting against the arm of the sofa.

Mary murmured his response, clearly focused on the film, and I didn't quite hear what he said. Or, if I did, I didn't recognize it. It looked like an older film (something I confirmed when I glanced across the room and saw the VHS cover thrown on the floor next to the TV console) and the quality led me to believe it was likely an indie film or B-movie. That seemed to track from what I knew about Mary.

We sat there for a while in a comfortable silence as the movie played in front of us. The lights of the den were off, but the incandescent kitchen lights shown in from the hallway, which paired with the glow of the TV made the details of the room fairly visible. We watched as the characters on the screen sculked down a dark alleyway, not a care in the world, and from my horror trope knowledge I knew that the action was about to start.

From my left, I heard the crinkling of a wrapper and the distinctive clunking noise of something bitten. Another wrapper crinkled and Mary brushed my arm with his own, his hand coming out in front of me.

"Here, eat something," he said as he handed me what looked like a square of chocolate. I felt my stomach tumble a little at the thought of something sweet, and I made a gruff noise in response, shaking my head a little.

Mary shook the chocolate slightly as if to double down. "It'll make you feel better. Settle your stomach."

I all but rolled my eyes as I grabbed onto the candy and muttered a noise of thanks. Typically, I'd argue with him that sugar was the antithesis of a sour stomach remedy, but his sweetness and ever-present thoughtfulness won me over. I snapped the chocolate with my teeth and as it melted on my tongue, I sank a little further into the couch cushions. It was good — a little more bitter than I expected, citrus-y, and not nearly as rich as I had worried about. Damn it, I hated when he was right.

Before I knew it, I had downed the whole square. Unbeknownst to me, Mary had watched with side-eyes and already had another square ready for me when I'd finished, which I accepted gratefully.

We remained like that, mere inches between us as we snacked on square after square of dark chocolate until barely any remained, absorbing the scenes of the movie unfolding before us. I felt warm and heavy and full in the sanctity of the cozy sunken room and the party outside lived far from the boundaries of my mind. Glancing at the table, I looked to see if I could find a wrapper or box to mentally note the brand of chocolate to buy it later, and I noticed a familiar smashed box laying open on the surface. Within seconds, the recognizable panic rose in my chest.

"Mary," I started cautiously, staring at the box, "where did you get those?"

I saw Mary shrug out of the corner of my eye. "They were in the kitchen."

I swallowed harshly. "So...you just…took them?" I said slowly, hoping to clarify that he hadn't taken what I thought he had. After all, Mary had shown up late. He wouldn't have known what they were.

This time, Mary turned his head to look at me straight on. The look on his face was relaxed and seemingly unbothered. "The box was all damaged so I assumed someone would throw them away. And Thomas is more of a Hershey guy," he reasoned.

At that moment, my heart fell out of my ass — partially because we had just eaten Thomas' entire birthday gift, but more so because of what we had eaten.

My face must have been a clear tell, because the long-haired man in front of me cocked his head in confusion. "Mary, those were, uh..." I tried to choose my words carefully despite the haze in my mind, "...those were fucking chocolates."

He laughed and looked at me with eyebrows raised and eyes wide, a look of ridiculing understanding on his face. "I know they were chocolates," he said with another mocking chuckle.

I grunted in frustration. "No, they were FUCKING chocolates!" I sighed and ran my hand through my long hair, tilting my head back as I searched for the right words. "God damn it, Mary, chocolates for fucking. Sex chocolates!" I looked over at him, my grey eyes widened a little in irritation, and studied his face for his response.

He shrugged, fucking shrugged, and leaned back a little further into the couch. "That shit is all marketing BS," he waved his hand and settled back in to watch the movie. I was certain he didn't notice me glaring daggers at him.

Despite my frustration, I followed suit and decided to distract myself with the film. I couldn't really decipher the plot (which I mostly attributed to my intoxication), but I began to deduce that it was some sort of slasher film riddled with horror cliches and gore.

My suspicions were quickly confirmed when the movie cut to an intimate scene between two of the side characters. As they moved against each other in the dark, clothing half-ripped off, lips trailing skin, and almost pornographic moans permeated the screen, I felt my stomach tighten. I wasn't typically the kind of person to be affected by sex scenes in movies or TV, but for whatever reason, I felt a rush of heat flood my abdomen and pull at my navel.

Shadows moved behind the preoccupied couple on the screen and I tried my best to focus on the horror element of the plotline. The murderer is in the room and is waiting for the opportune time to strike, I told myself in prediction, willing my eyes to study any and every small detail in the movie to keep the tugging at my core from building.

I licked my lips and let out a quiet breath, hoping to God that Mary didn't hear me. Anger started to prick at my gut. Was this a placebo effect? A side effect of weed and alcohol? Or were those chocolates the real deal? Regardless, I pulled my knees to my chest and did my best to not allow the movie to bother me (one way or another).

From beside me, I heard what sounded like a mix between a groan and a low breath. My brain told me to keep looking ahead, to ignore him, to wait until the movie was done and I was feeling better before finding Des and asking for somewhere to crash for the night. My impulsivity got the best of me and I slowly cast my eyes in Mary's direction. His eyes were slightly larger, the flickering light of the screen reflecting off the olive hue of his irises, and his bottom lip was just barely caught between his teeth.

He clearly felt my stare because his head pivoted in my direction. His gaze was nearly smoldering. I licked my lips, the wet sounds and moans of the TV punctuating our focus on one another, and I felt the air grow thick with tension that was practically palpable. My fixed stare drifted downward to look at his bitten lip and I shuddered as I noticed the reddened teeth mark against the soft flesh.

I don't know what overcame me. Suddenly I was lurching forward, my legs bent below me as I pushed into him, hand resting on the worn fabric of the band shirt below the jacket, knees brushing the fabric of his jeans. Our faces were inches apart and I could see the stubble outlining his chin and cheeks. His hand snaked up between us and grasped the back of my neck, and before I knew it, he pulled me into him with such force that I nearly lost my balance.

My lips crashed against his for the first time ever, and through the fog in my brain and body, I noted their firmness, how they were slightly chapped but still velvety as they moved against mine. I shifted to lift a leg over his lap and straddled him, both hands resting against him as his own free hand came to slot against the curve of my waist. The fabric of my dress floated around our conjoined laps and I tilted my head to the side to deepen our locked lips.

Mary groaned and the hand on my neck traveled down my back and over my ass before gripping onto the other side of my waist. With both hands, he held me firmly and pulled me down into his crotch. I could feel the rough jean fabric scraping against my inner thighs and seat of my panties. I let out a whimper.

Heat soared through my groin and had I been clear-headed, I would have laughed at the aptly-named chocolates, but I was too distracted by Mary's noises and his guitar-calloused fingertips now brushing up my thighs and oh god did he smell good (all leather, spice, cigarette, and earth). I felt my dress flutter up to the crease between my legs and pelvis and his hands came to cup around my backside. I let out a wanton moan into his mouth and he pushed his tongue against my lips, parting them as he ground himself into me.

Had we been completely alone in the house (or at least in a more secluded space), I couldn’t promise myself that I would have had any restraint against Mary completely taking me right there on the old sofa. However, a moment of worry panged at my core and I separated from him slightly, mere centimeters between us as we both breathed heavily.

“Aren’t you worried about getting caught?” I stumbled out, lips brushing against his own as I spoke.

Mary grunted in reply and pulled me in against him deeper. “Everyone is distracted outside," he murmured against my jawbone as he pressed slow, tantalizing kisses that flowed down to my neck. I tilted my head further to the side and fluttered my eyes closed, enjoying the feeling of his body pressed against my own, fingertips digging into the tines of his zippered jacket. His lips ghosted a sensitive spot on the curve of my neck and I felt electricity swim across my skin.

"I don't fuck people I don't know," I breathed out, feeling my own hips move against his now as if betraying my own words.

He let out a noise that registered somewhere between a groan and an "mmm" before detaching from my neck. One of his hands reached up to brush some rogue strands of hair that had fallen into my eyes, tucking them behind my ear as he brought our faces close together. "I guess we'll have to get to know each other better, then," he rumbled out, voice low as his thumb pressed into my jaw and pulled our lips together again.

The lights of the movie flickered behind us and screams from the victims of the story percussed our heavy makeout. I paid them no mind, but after the third scream and the sploshing sound of what I assumed to be blood, I could have sworn that Mary's kisses became more heated.

His hand trailed from my jaw and down to squeeze at my breast through the thin fabric of my swing dress, which earned him a moan from me in response, before he traced his fingertips down to the skirt gathered at my waist. He dipped his fingers low between the heat of my legs, swiping them once, twice up the crotch of my panties to feel the wetness gathered there. I felt him smirk against my lips and his nimble fingers pushed the damp cotton aside to graze my pussy. I let out a whimper into his mouth and he took this as permission to go a little further, stroking along either side of my inner folds with his pointer and middle fingers.

The muscles of my legs quivered at the sensation and I moaned a little into his mouth again, my tongue licking against his own almost lewdly as he rubbed his hand against me. He broke the kiss just barely, squeezing his fingers on either side of my clit. "Did you want me to stop?" he purred out as he languidly stroked.

"Please," I choked out, the tenseness of weeks without physical touch bubbling up in my abdomen and throat.

He began to remove his hand teasingly. "Please what? Stop?" he asked as he bit softly on my bottom lip.

I tugged my lip back from his teeth and opened my eyes to look at him imploringly. "Please don't stop," I practically begged before leaning back into his touch. He slammed our mouths together again and began moving his fingers with more speed and intensity, rubbing me up and down but being careful to never directly touch my most delicate spot. His teasing had me dripping for him, and right when I felt my frustration about to run over, he dipped his hand lower and slipped inside of me smoothly.

I let out a noise of complete pleasure against him, our lips breaking apart, and rested my forehead against his as my eyelids squeezed together. His free hand rocked me against him and he added another finger before curling them into me, pushing and stroking and prodding at my g-spot expertly.

"Mary..." I moaned breathily, and he grunted out in response as he leaned down to lick a stripe from my collarbone to my ear. Goosebumps pebbled my skin and I ground my hips into his hand, unknowingly pushing it into his swelling cock.

"I've been staring at you in that dress all night," he purred into my ear. The movements of his fingers began to speed up and I reached down between us to rub at my clit, but he beat me to the punch, his thumb reaching up to massage it at a teasingly slow speed. "How your tits were pushed up against your knees as you sat on the bathroom counter," he took in a sharp breath and I felt his inhale prickle the curve of my ear, "The way your ass looked bent over the bathtub, lips around that bottle. Fuck, I wanted that to be my cock."

I could feel the outline of his hardness pressing against me through his jeans, and images of his leaking cock being pressed between my lips made my gut flutter with need. I brought my fist up to my mouth and bit into it, groaning loudly and hoping that it was at least somewhat muffled. The desire pooling in the pit of my abdomen was threatening to break through, the dam nearly cracking, and I could feel each nerve of my pussy jolting with fiery synapses, just waiting to explode.

My head tilted back and I looked down at Mary through half-lidded, lust-drunk eyes. "Mary, I'm—"

He cut off my whine, his voice gravelly as he spoke. "I want you to cum on my fingers, babydoll. Just like you came on my tongue."

I felt the fire rage inside me and it was as if I lost complete control of my body. My hips writhed into him and my hand reached up to grab onto his shoulder for support, fingernails digging roughly into the leather of the battle jacket as I let out a noise of complete rapture. His hand on my hip darted up and quickly covered my mouth as he continued to fuck me with his fingers.

"Shhh, you didn’t want them to hear us, remember?" His eyes pierced into mine, pupils wide and blown with desire, and he watched every minute movement of my face as I came around him. Despite his sultry reminder, I keened against his hand, his skin tasting salty against my tongue and lips with each little noise. He pulsed me through my orgasm and circled my sensitive nub with increasing gentleness as I came down in his arms.

After a moment, he slipped out of me and brought his soaked fingers to his lips before making a show of sucking my slick from them. "You taste just as good as I remember," he breathed out with a smirk. I let out a shuddering breath, closed my eyes, and rested my forehead against his once more, our hair tangling in a mess of golden brown and mahogany tresses. I felt his dick pulse beneath me.

My mind shot back to our time together on the roof, and as I sat nearly puddled against him on his lap, I realized that I had yet to return any of his favors. With shaky knees, I pushed myself from him (earning me a brief look of concern) before I slid down his lap and onto the floor in front of him. The worry melted from his face as his eyebrows rose, and a grin stretched across his lips.

My hands slithered down the black denim of his thighs, ghosting the skin of the ripped knees, and I grabbed his shins to push them open. Settling between them, I reached forward to push his bullet belt up and pull at the button on his pants. It popped open with minimal effort and I gripped my hands onto the meat of his thighs as I leaned my face directly over his crotch. Taking the zipper in my teeth, I wrenched it down smoothly. The heat of his groin flushed against my cheeks and even without looking, I could tell he wasn't wearing boxers.

He quickly pulled his pants down from his hips to his knees and his cock sprung out, nearly hitting me in the face. While he was no Owen Gray, it was longer and thicker than I had imagined given his height, and I knew that it would be difficult to take him completely. Grasping onto the base, I flittered my eyes up to him and peered at his face through thick lashes as I licked the tip lightly.

Mary let out his own series of aroused noises and his hands grasped at the couch cushions below him. I smirked and knelt a little closer, back curving to highlight the swell of my ass as I took the tip into my mouth and sucked sparingly before letting it go with a pop. Mary whined at the loss of my mouth and I let out a small laugh, enjoying returning some of the teasing he'd put me through, before I grabbed the base and licked from his balls to his frenulum.

The dialogue from the TV just barely drowned out his heavy breathing and I surprised him by taking him into my mouth as deeply as I could without gagging, hand still squeezing around the base as I began to bob up and down. By now, the spinning nausea and hazy headspace was gone and I was feeling the more positive effects of the gravity hit, so I slid my other hand down to cup his balls as I took him a little more deeply into my mouth.

One of Mary's hands came to thread through my hair, grasping the burgundy locks with a tight grip as he helped guide me up and down his shaft. I pressed the tip of my tongue against the vein on the underside of his cock and he groaned out, lips spilling out the words "Fuck, just like that” as his hips quaked beneath me.

I continued to move my head against him, alternating licking and sucking, hollowing my cheeks and pulling lightly at his balls. I could tell he was close when his moans became louder and his arm started to tremble. Speeding up my ministrations, I looked back up into his eyes to see them closed, his head tilted against the back of the couch, and he started to jerk his hips up roughly into me. I relaxed my throat and stilted the gagging feeling the best I could, tears pricking my eyes as I let him fuck my face.

The tip of his cock hit the back of my throat and he let out a guttural noise, his other hand coming to grab onto my head as he thrust into my mouth. "Ungh, fuck, babydoll, you're gonna make me cum," he growled, and even with my recent orgasm, I felt wetness instantly pool in my already soaked underwear.

Seconds later, his hips spasmed into my face and he came roughly into my mouth. His salty spend pooled on my tongue and I swallowed around his cock before slowly sliding off with an audible "pop". A bead of cum dribbled down my lips and I wiped it with the pad of my thumb, popping the digit in my mouth to lap at it slowly while locking eyes with Mary.

He looked at me half-lidded, completely enthralled as I nearly devoured every drop of him, and I leaned back a little while shooting him pleased smile.

"I couldn't let you go through life without experiencing one of my blowjobs at least once," I said, nearly echoing his words from weeks prior. He instantly recognized this and laughed, one of his hands moving from my head to trace his thumb over the swell of my bottom lip.

"I don’t know what it is about you, dollface," he whispered. My heart leapt again at the nickname he'd assigned me and I hummed as I leaned into his touch before slinking up to sit next to him. I rested my head on his shoulder and closed my eyes. I could hear the clink of his belt as he carefully tucked himself back into his jeans, the sound of his zipper whirring briefly through the heated air.

His arm came to snake around my waist and we sat there in a comfortable silence, film credits dancing on the screen. I heard the sliding glass door open from the kitchen and footsteps clatter against the fake laminate flooring, but I didn't move from Mary's grasp. I was too tired (and too satiated) to care.

After a while, I felt his lips press onto my forehead and I opened my eyes again to look at him. He motioned towards the last chocolate square on the coffee table with a subtle flick of his head, a smile carved into his face, and broke the quiet.

“...you gonna eat that?”

#mary goore #mary goore x ofc #mary goore x oc #mary goore x female character #repugnant #repugnant band #ghost band #ghost bc #the band ghost #ghost band fanfic #ghost bc fanfic #fanfic #fanfiction #ao3 fanfic #my writing

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yikes-em · 5 months

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Blush Sands

For @astrangersummer week 1: nail polish

steddie | 1154 words | gen/no warnings | post s4 everyone lives

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When Steve had asked Eddie about his fingernails, nothing could have prepared him for what it would set off. Eddie’s eyes lit up in the middle of Family Video and he gripped harder onto Steve’s hand that had pulled his painted nails into the light in the first place.

The explanation had come with Max at his trailer a few nights ago, her mom long asleep after a grueling work day had apologetically canceled on their ‘girls night’. So she’d slipped from her window with a few bottles of polish and knocked on his screen door. Eddie, at first a little aback at being her first choice and then fully clocked when she mentioned seeing Eddie doing his eyeliner in his van before scrambling off to see a concert in Indy, agreed. If Max was going to walk around with yellow fingernails they’d be the cleanest damn paint job ever.

So now here’s Steve, sitting in the middle of another ‘girls night’ at Eddie’s trailer. Said host is in the kitchen stirring Shirley Temples for Max and El with one hand and a large pot of mac n’ cheese with the other. Robin, having drank half and promptly forgotten her own very spiked Shirley, is crouched in front of El on the couch and painting little purple squiggles over pale blue. Max is leaning out of Wayne’s recliner with her fingers dug into Robin’s hair, deftly trying to tuck it into little braids. Her nails are yet to be done but she’s chosen the color. Bright pink this time.

Steve has three bottles in his hand. A deep maroon that reminds him of his car, a fleshy yet shiny pink tone, and a teal blue the color his pool was growing up in the summer. He’s staring so hard at them that he doesn’t have time to prepare for Eddie bumping hips with him as he settles back on the couch between Steve and El. He’s got a bowl big with enough mac n’ cheese for them both with two spoons precariously balanced on his lap while offering out a beer.

“Drink?”

“Thanks,” Steve hums, dumping the little bottles on his lap to accept the beer.

“Hungry?” Eddie’s speaking so low that the girls don’t even seem to acknowledge them. Steve nods and hefts a spoonful into his mouth and washes it down in one breath. Eddie makes another noise, something like casual, genuine awe. Steve can feel it where their bodies touch.

“Very,” Steve says around another mouthful of pasta.

“Mm,” Eddie hums as his gaze drifts down Steve’s face, his neck and chest, and finally rests in Steve’s lap. Steve has half a mind to let his face flush when he remembers the nail polish “Need help deciding?”

“Yeah, I uh… I’ve never had a choice on something like this. I know it’s not permanent but it feels like something that matters more than just putting on a shirt for the day.”

“No, you’re right,” Eddie says, leaning into Steve a little more. He grabs gently at the bottles and turns them so he can read the shades. “Merlot is very date night. Mysterious but sexy. A solid choice.”

Steve enjoys the thought of Eddie painting his nails for a date, wonders what color Eddie would paint them if it were a date that Steve asked him on.

“Ah, blush sands, a classic. Casual, doesn’t draw much attention. It’s more for you to know and feel pretty in,” Eddie continues. Steve hadn’t thought about which color his eyes would be drawn to while checking in returns at work, or potentially ringing up customers.

“Lagoon.” Steve can sense the unsaid creature-from-the-black prefix and snorts out a laugh. “Summery, bright, attention seeking, fun.”

“Doesn’t really narrow it down, huh?” Steve groans and shifts his hips so not only do the little bottles brush together and make cute clinking noises but so do his and Eddie’s thighs. It’s a solid touch and Steve feels his mouth water for something. He satiates with a beer.

“Are you asking me to decide for you?”

Robin cackles at something Max says and the fond smile it brings to Steve’s face hurts. Seeing his people happy, after everything they’ve been through, is all he could ever want in the world. El is waving her hands in the air to dry her new designs and leans over Eddie to show them both.

“Look! Like the roller rink’s floor!” She beams. “Robin made them perfect!”

“I don’t know about perfect-” Robin scratches at her nose sheepishly but Steve can see the pride in her eyes.

“Damn perfect!” Eddie shouts, bouncing in his spot. “I call after Max! I want flowers Rob- ones with little yellow dots in the middle!”

“Jesus christ, who do you take me for?”

“A goddamn artist,” Eddie grins and blows her a kiss. It’s hard to tell if the red in Robin’s cheeks is from how hard she’s laughing or from the alcohol. Max and El swap spots, El simply twisting bits of Robin’s hair in on itself until she winces or it pops free. Eddie turns his full attention back to Steve and it sends a shiver down his knees.

“I’ll pick two, you take it from there?”

Steve nods, spoon in mouth again.

“I think Lagoon is a little daring for your first time. Could give you some weird feelings.”

“Okay.” Steve doesn’t even think to ask what might constitute weird feelings. “Okay, then I think blush sands. It’s not too far off what my nails look like anyway- in case I hate it.”

“Good job,” Eddie beams, snatching up the two unchosen bottles and stashing them away in the shoe box on the table. “You’ll definitely look cute in that one.”

“Thanks,” Steve mumbles and ducks his chin to his chest. “Uh… how do I… how do I start?”

“Oh shit, Stevie, yeah, here let me!” Eddie transplants his beer and the mac n’ cheese to the coffee table and pivots his whole body so they’re facing. “Gimme.”

Eddie takes the bottle of blush sands and cracks it open, gesturing for Steve to hold out his hand. It probably only takes about ten minutes maximum for Eddie to get two coats on each of Steve’s blunt nails but it’s long enough for Steve to finish both their beers and get pleasantly buzzed on the liquor and the smell of Eddie’s cologne.

“Pretty,” Eddie hums when he’s done, holding Steve’s hand up in the dingy lighting. His gaze drifts over his hand, up along his arm where Steve knows he has visible bat scars pulling taught over his muscles, resting finally on his face- his eyes. Steve blinks a few times and wets his lips. Eddie imitates the action. “Yeah, pretty.”

In that moment, Steve decides that he’d do anything asked of him for the rest of his life if Eddie would call him pretty.

#a stranger summer #week one #nail polish writing prompt #steddie #steddie fanfic #ficlet #stranger things

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nakanotamu · 8 months

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Rossy got fired from stardom??????????

LMAOOOO I was just about to post "lmao Rossy got fired" and then I saw this yeah apparently he got fired after the show last night. I never got around to writing that post about the management issues so I guess I'l try and summarize some relevant points before people panic

Okay so Rossy was off of booking since some time last year. We don't know for sure but my guess is that All Star Grand Queendom was his last show as booker, based on the belt going to Tam apparently being his decision and the timing of when stuff started to fall apart very shortly after that.

He was highly critical of the last president (who had been booking) once that guy got fired - and the issues with him were more than just booking. This was the stuff Giulia talked about. Like the schedule he booked was way too grueling on the wrestlers with non-stop big matches & shows back to back to back, and he would book matches just out of the blue without paying any attention to the stories the wrestlers were trying to tell, where Rossy's style was to just let the wrestlers throw out story threads themselves and then book what he thought would sell out of what they wanted to do. He also just was an idiot and didn't seem to think particularly highly of wrestling in the first place, pushing tons and tons of product tie-ins and advertising shit and the fucking NFT shit and. Yeah he sucked

However despite being highly critical of the last guy once he was gone, Rossy also said he didn't comment on the decisions he was making. He also may have been the one who decided who won or lost in the period before the new president came in, but from what's been made public at least, as soon as he came in he took over, so Stardom since whenever that was like the start of December has been the new president in charge.

So what I'm trying to say is, at least creatively, this probably isn't actually a huge change for Stardom compared to the past roughly a year of the product. People freaking out that the booker is just suddenly gone, he apparently hasn't been the booker for a while already now anyway. If you didn't notice a change in booking twice last year you probably won't notice this either.

So, yeah, Rossy did get fired. Bye bitch, it would be nice if this meant Sonny is on the way out too. Rossy is absolutely fucking not the guy who saved joshi wrestling or whatever the fuck narrative he & a lot of western wrestling media have been trying to present him as for years now. This probably isn't going to lead to a massive shift in Stardom's booking compared to what it's already been for months, and just as a fan we have no way of knowing what else this is going to impact, because it's hard to tell how much influence he even had for the past year, which was admittedly bad but more recently imo showing signs of turning around.

I think it's worth pointing out that one of the things that drove me off of both Reddit and Twitter wrestling fandom is that whenever shit like this happens everybody's gotta be a fucking insider or whatever and we don't. Know. Anything. But further than that it's not our fucking problem. We don't work for Bushiroad and we don't know anybody involved. We don't NEED to worry about what this means for The Business or whatever the fuck because that doesn't matter to us. I care about the roster being treated well and the product being one I am enjoying, and Rossy already couldn't prevent both of those things from not happening last year, so obviously he's not gonna be the difference maker.

My concern if I have one though is mostly the roster. If people are loyal enough to him to start jumping ship that would really suck. If the rumours that are already going around that he was poaching people for a potential NXT Japan pan out in any way that would REALLY suck. Even if the entire roster went I'm not going to watch a WWE product or even a show that isn't women in every match. So I guess as ever all we can do is wait and see.

#Stardom

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alohastyles-x · 2 years

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Can I please have a Tony stark x reader or Scott lang x reader or Vision x reader ZombieAU? Either one works! Thanks:) take your time babe!!

omg yes, I'm so sorry this took a bit to write, I wanted to make sure I got down Scott's personality hehe <3 I absolutely loved this concept, and I hope you enjoy where I took this! big shout out to @atlaese and @theyear1980 for help :)

Zombified - marvel

*lets pretend this gif is from the mcu lol*

Pairing: Scott Lang x Zombie!Tony Stark x Zombie!Vision x reader

Prompt: While camping out in a convenience store, Character A watches as a frightened Character B bangs on the glass, trying to make it past the blockade that Character A put in front of the door. Character A can just barely tell what Character B is saying: “Help! Let me in! They’re coming! [ pretty sure this one is from @deity-prompts ]

Word Count: 3.5k

warnings: descriptions of violence and gore, horror story,

this story is apart of my house of horrors event!

House of Horror Stories Guidelines | House of Horror Stories Masterlist

Silence filled the musty air as you leaned against the wall, rifle in hand. There was a shifting outside and in the atmosphere surrounding you. What was once peaceful was now unnerving, shadows dancing out of the corner of your eye. Your heart raced as footsteps were heard outside. They were running, gaining speed and getting closer to where you sat. You closed your eyes, trying to steady your breath before making sure the rifle was loaded and cocked, waiting to be used. Your hand rested delicately next to the trigger as you aimed the gun up towards the front doors of the convenience store.

You had already blocked the doors off with heavy furniture left behind and cut the electric cords so the automatic opener feature wasn’t working. This had eased your mind, knowing you had the upper hand. Now all you had to do was wait, wait for the perfect shot… whoever was outside was getting closer… and closer… until a figure appeared disheveled in front of the door. His fists rose and he began banging on the door furiously.

“Hey! Let me in! Please! There’s this... god, what is that? This thing after me. What are we calling them? Zombies? Yeah that!” He shouted. You recognized his voice- it was Scott Lang, otherwise known as Ant Man, one of the newer Avenger recruits. You lowered the gun, staring at him in disbelief.

Okay pause- you’re probably wondering what he’s talking about. Zombies? Seriously? Get real, right? Unfortunately, his description is very, very accurate.

The world had changed since the reverse snap and the fall of the Avengers. After Thanos had accomplished his self-deemed destiny to eliminate half of the universes’ populations on every planet, in every galaxy, what was left of the Avengers worked tirelessly to figure out how to reverse engineer the snap. After a long and grueling battle they succeeded in defeating Thanos’ army, and bringing back the half of the population that disappeared…

… but at what cost.

Biologist Ellie Mae had come back to find the love of her life Linda Gahle had died in the 5 years she was gone. Her grief was instrumental in the events that led to where you were today: holed up in an abandoned convenience store that, by some miracle, still had its windows intact.

You see, Ellie had been so distraught over her wife's death, that she spent days, weeks and months trying to bring her back. Ellie succeeded… kind of. What she created wasn’t Linda, it wasn’t even human at all; it was a monster. Skin as ashy and pale as a decomposing body, eyes dull and lifeless, skin haphazardly stitched back together from Ellie’s surgical procedures to reinstate Linda’s organs- she created a zombie. A zombie that was hungry for meat, thirsty for blood. Ellie died at the hands of her very own creation that soon was let loose on the streets.

Others weren’t as lucky as Ellie. Many that came in contact with the, now, zombified Linda survived… if you could even call it that. More and more Zombies came to life, popping up out of the freshly dug dirt in graveyards, morgues, and even on the street just mere hours after they were found deceased. The time it took to turn always varied, depending on just how much of the disease got in through the bites before the zombies moved on to better looking meals.

When the outbreak had occurred, you had lost everything all at once. Your home wasn’t safe to stay in, and the small little family you once had was infected, leaving you to do the hardest thing imaginable: end their suffering. The kickback from the shotgun you used left a dark purple bruise on your shoulder after multiple shots were fired to end it all. The tears had stained your cheeks, making their way through the blood splatter that had landed on your face.

Without giving yourself a second to process what just happened and what you just did, you threw some clothes into a bag, as well as some survival tools your dad had prepared after the news broke of the infections.

The world had turned upside down. More and more people were turning daily- the Zombies now outnumbered the humans. But things turned dark when the infections reached the heroes-the New Avengers- that were left after the snap.

No one knew how, assuming they had the technology to shield themselves from it. In fact, that’s what everyone was hoping for: that the New Avengers could stay safe long enough to find a cure. But everyone was mistaken.

To everyone’s surprise, Tony Stark was the first to go- or, rather, come back zombified. It was a giant conspiracy as to how he got infected after his sacrifice- as far as anyone knew he was dead and buried.

The world was slowly running out of humans and as far as you knew, you were one of the few left alive in your town. No one had even tried to break into the convenience store you had bunkered down in. It was an eerie thought.

You had just lit a candle for the night next to your makeshift bed. Lucky for you, no one decided they needed pet beds in a zombie apocalypse, so you took the seven pet beds the store had in stock and made yourself a comfy place to sleep.

It really wasn’t all that bad given the circumstances. The store still had plenty of food, water, and other things. You assumed more people were focused on fleeing the city rather than stocking up on essentials, which left the convenience store nearly full.

After making your rounds to each entrance and then settling in for the night, you were caught off guard by a sound off in the distance: yelling.

That led to where you were now, staring Scott Lang down as he continued banging on the door, pleading for you to help him. Suddenly, as if someone flicked a switch in your brain, you got to work assessing the situation.

“Meet me at the back door, it’s easier to get you in that way!” You shouted, hoping he could hear you over his incessant banging.

“What?” He yelled back, stilling his fists. You rolled your eyes and pointed towards the back of the store.

“Back! Door!” You yelled back. He nodded and took off.

“Fucks sake,” you muttered under your breath as you followed his actions and jogged towards the back door. This one you didn’t feel the need to block as much save for a large heavy box. It was a heavy door that locked automatically so no one outside could enter.

You grunted as you slid the box away from the door, and quickly opened it. Scott Lang stood there, looking around anxiously as the noises of hungry zombies filled the outside air. You waved him in, and shut the door tightly as soon as he stepped inside.

“Thank you, I’m so grateful,” Scott whispered. He was currently waiting for his eyes to adjust to the dark stock-room.

“Anything for an Avenger,” you responded, winking- even though you knew he couldn’t see it.

“Follow me, I’m set up in here.”

You led him into the store, bringing him to the corner where your makeshift bed was. You had a small box next to it with a kerosene lantern from your home sitting on it.

“Nice place you got here,” Scott said, chuckling to himself. “No, really though, this is insane that this place isn’t ransacked more than it is.”

“Yeah, I got lucky I guess,” you chuckled. “Uh, so, there aren't any more pet beds, but I can break mine down and set one up for you…”

“Oh, that’s not necessary. I can sleep on the floor,” Scott responded with a bright smile.

“The floor? Jesus, Scott, no. I’m not going to make you sleep on the floor,” you said. You began to break down your bed, pulling 4 of the pet beds out and setting them up on the other side of the box night stand.

“I never got your name,” Scott responded, watching you make his bed for him. He felt awkward and unsure of how to act and respond.

“Oh, it’s y/n.” You said, simply. It made him chuckle, the way the two of you were able to make small talk amid a zombie apocalypse. He looked around, and grabbed a box of crackers off the shelf next to him.

“So, what kind of supplies do you have, y/n?”

“Guns, knives, plenty of food and water clearly, and that’s about it, aside from what the store offers.” You responded, finishing laying out the blanket atop the pet beds for him. He silently thanked you with a nod of his head, before moving to sit down. You took him in as he was sitting, wondering what he was doing all the way out here.

He had a large bruise on his upper cheekbone, a small slit in his eyebrow. You assumed he must have fallen and hit his head against a rock or something. As you moved your eyes down, you noticed a lot of blood on his shirt, and then his sleeve. Without thinking, you knelt before him and moved his shirt up, exposing his toned stomach.

“Oh, shit!” You muttered, seeing a deep gash slashed across his abdomen. He brought his gaze down to where your hands were already carefully inspecting it.

“Oh that? You should see the other guy,” he winced. Even in pain he was attempting to keep up his comedic act. You smirked.

“I’m sure, tough guy. Here, I’ve got some supplies to help clean the wound.” You reached for a small red bag perched near the box nightstand. In it contained a few antibiotic pills known to help cure the infection, as well as hydrogen peroxide and other wound cleaning solutions, some gauze and some stitching equipment.

“Here, take this and lay back,” you said, gently pushing him back down onto the bed, handing him one of the antibiotics. The kerosene lantern casted a glow on the wound making it shiny and look even more grotesque. He drew in a breath as you poured the hydrogen peroxide on it; his abs flexed in response.

“So, what brought you out here?” You asked, attempting to distract him from the pain.

“I honestly didn’t know anyone was out here, but man, I’m glad someone was. Tony and Vision- well, zombie Tony and Zombie Vision teamed up, and you know, the two of them as humans were unstoppable together… let alone as Zombies. So-ow,” he winced as you began to stitch the wound together. You muttered an apology before he continued.

“- so, I led them out here, hoping to distract them from civilization, but that was a bust. I’m not sure where they are now.” He finished. You glanced up at him. The way he just brushed off the fact that both Tony was alive and that he was now loose as a zombie made your heart drop.

“I’m sorry… what?” You asked, your hand hovering over his wound. You were two stitches away from closing the wound shut.

“What part did you not get?” He asked, a confused look on his face. He forgot that not everyone was aware of the situation regarding Tony. You raised your eyebrow at him as you finished stitching him up.

“How did Tony come back?” You asked.

“Oh, right, not everyone knows. Well, after Tony’s sacrifice, Pepper lost it. She couldn’t wrap her head around him being gone, no matter how hard she tried. She put on a brave face, I’ll admit that as well; she had us all fooled. When she heard of the experiment Ellie performed, she reached out immediately to get the information on what she did to bring back her lover. She paid an ungodly amount of money for the secret, and then performed it herself. Tony was back, but within a matter of minutes the disease had spread through his body, turning him into a zombie. Pepper was able to send an alert out before… before…” he couldn’t even finish his sentence, but he didn’t have to. You know what he was trying to say. Before the inevitable happened before Pepper ended up just like Ellie; lifeless on the floor.

“And Vision?” You asked.

“We’re still not sure. We think Tony somehow managed to infect his harddrive- or something- with a similar infection. I don’t even know how that is possible, but here we are,” Scott answered. You had finished your stitching job, and were about to cover it with a bandage to keep it clean, but Scott moved your hand away.

“Wow. Brilliant stitching job, are you a doctor?” He asked, inspecting your work.

“No, just sewn a few costumes here and there,” you smiled brightly, happy for the recognition of your work.

He caught your eye, and returned the smile. A feeling of butterflies fluttered in your stomach, making your heart stop in your chest for a second.

“Alright, you can finish bandaging this up. Let's hope this antibiotic kicks in soon,” Scott said, wiping a few beads of sweat from his brow. He laid back down and you placed the bandage over his wound, and began to tape it up.

A sudden clatter outside made you stop cold, a shiver running down your spine. Scott had leaned up suddenly on his elbows, looking around the shelf blocking his view from the door. An electrical buzzing filled the air.

“Shit!” Scott said loudly, pushing himself up to his feet. Another clatter came from the direction of the door. “Where’s the gun?”

“What do you mean, what is - oh my god!” You said, turning to view the door. A zombified Vision was slicing through the door with the stone in his head.

“y/n, where is the gun?” Scott asked again, more firmly this time. You passed him one of the rifles you had.

“Stay here.”

“What? No, I’m helping you!” You said, picking up the second rifle and loading it. Scott shook his head, but didn’t stop you. He had a feeling he wouldn’t be able to stop you unless he tied you up. As enticing as the idea was for other reasons, he knew right now wasn’t the time for those thoughts.

“Oh wait,” he started, running back to the back door where he had dropped a bag he forgot to pick back up. You hadn’t even noticed he had a bag on him ever before he came in. “My suit!” He exclaimed, quickly stripping his clothing and slipping into the suit.

“Are you kidding me? You, an actual superhero, forgot you had your suit with you? Why weren’t you wearing it?” You yelled frantically.

“I didn’t want it to get damaged!” He responded. You shook your head at the ridiculousness, and watched as he picked up his rifle and came back into the main store.

A loud bang came from the front doors, and you realized it was the sound of the furniture toppling over as Vision and Tony made their way into the store. They didn’t move like you thought Zombies would, all wobbly and slow. No, no. They were fast, almost faster than before.

Your heart rate sped up as you froze, absolutely shocked at the sight before you. Tony’s skin, unlike the other zombies you had seen, was a blueish green with red blemishes all over. Vision looked the same, but he didn’t talk. You noticed that Tony didn’t either.

Scott didn’t hesitate though. He fired the rifle at Tony, hitting him in the arm. In the next second, Vision had sliced the rifle in half.

“Great, you wanna play dirty? We can play dirty,” Scott said, activating his suit and shrinking down to the size of an ant. You watched as he attacked both Tony and Vision, growing in and out of size, shrinking and growing, punching left and right, taking hits here and there. You were unsure of what to do, it seemed like he had the upper hand.

Thn, as if suddenly aware of your presence, Tony turned to face you, his eyes dead and lifeless. Your eyes grew wide as you realized he was headed towards you. You raised the rifle and went to pull the trigger…

Nothing happened. It was jammed.

“Fuck!” You yelled. Of course this would happen. Of course the rifle would jam right as Tony was about to strike. You stumbled out of the way, smacking right into the shelf behind you. You quickly remembered the knife you had strapped to your thigh above your jeans. You grabbed it, slashing quickly at Tony’s arm as he came up to strike.

“y/n!” Scott yelled out, growing large and squashing vision under his foot. It was just a temporary fix to the situation. He turned his attention to Tony, lunging at him. In a split second he miniaturized right before your eyes, and landed on Tony’s shoulder. Tony flicked him off at record speed, and you took the split second he was distracted to your advantage. You leaned out with the knife, stabbing Tony in the head. He fell to the ground, writhing around. There was no blood at the stab wound, only a green ooze that poured out of the wound.

Scott returned to normal human size, wiping his hands off on eachother.

“That was easy,” he muttered, and you looked at him like he was crazy.

“Easy? That was the most terrifying two minutes of my life,” you muttered. He flashed you a smile. You couldn’t help but smile back, and for a split second, it was as if the two of you weren’t standing next to the corpses of the once greatest heroes of all time. As if the world wasn’t deteriorating around you. It was a nice distraction.

It was a distraction you couldn’t afford. Lost in the gaze of the other, no one noticed that Tony had withered his way to Scott. He popped up suddenly, taking a giant chunk of skin out of Scott’s arm.

A blood curdling scream left your lips, as you watched horrified as Scott’s blood sprayed everywhere– on you, on Tony, and on the floor below. You leaned down to pick up the knife you had dropped before, and lunged at Tony.

But you weren’t fast enough. Tony had turned, backing away from where you were aiming. Scott stumbled backwards, his breathing labored as he held his arm to his chest.

“Go!” You screamed, wanting him to run and find help. He didn’t listen. He couldn’t hear you over the sound of blood rushing to the wound site. His ears began to ring, and suddenly a bright light appeared before him.

You were unaware he was dying, too busy fighting off Tony. Vision began to twitch from his original position on the floor. No, no no, you thought to yourself. You could handle Tony, at least for a little while… but both Tony and Vision? That was nearly impossible for an average human like yourself.

Suddenly, the fighting stopped. You dropped your arms that were raised to block a blow from Tony that never came. Taken aback by the lack of violence, you felt your heart rate increase at the growing silence.

The silence didn’t last long. Behind you came a deep groaning and grumbling. Your blood ran cold, and your heart stopped in your chest. There was only one person that was behind you last you knew. Only one person who had the capability to make the grumbling sounds you were hearing now.

“y/n…” it came out raspy, and grunted, as if he was choking the words out.

Chills ran up your spine, and you slowly turned to look behind you. As much as you didn’t want to, your brain was moving you without your permission.

Behind you stood a zombified Scott Lang, blood no longer dripping from his wound. His skin was now a pale and ashy color, his eyes an infected greenish-yellow. He was no longer holding his wounded arm, instead it hung a good two inches lower than the other one, the upper bone sticking out of the open bite.

“No…, no, no, no!” You cried out, knowing it was now too late for you. There was no escaping this. No escaping three bloodthirsty zombies that stood before you, eyeing you like you were their last meal.

A blood curdling scream filled the air of the convenience store, before the sloppy sounds of biting and tearing of flesh followed, blood staining the linoleum floor below your body, and then, finally, the satisfied grunts of the zombies.

| 𝐅𝐞𝐞𝐝𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐢𝐬 𝐠𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐥𝐲 𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝 |

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findingnemosworld · 11 months

Text

𝐧𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐥𝐞𝐭 𝐦𝐞 𝐠𝐨 - 𝐜𝐞́𝐬𝐚𝐫 𝐚𝐳𝐩𝐢𝐥𝐢𝐜𝐮𝐞𝐭𝐚

・𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐛𝐲: 𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐲𝐦𝐨𝐮𝐬

( 𝐛𝐚𝐬𝐞𝐝 𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭 )

𝐭𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐠𝐞𝐫 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠: 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐯𝐲 𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐬𝐭.

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐝 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐬𝐨 𝐡𝐨𝐩𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐢𝐭.

They often say that opposites attract and this was definitely the case with the two of them, he belonged to a grueling yet fulfilling career of being able to entertain the crowds each time he stepped out with ten hungry individuals that strived to succeed both at home and in away matches - she on the other hand belonged to a much more grueling and intense field that required her to mingle with individuals that are both physically and emotionally draining yet she knew that it was the standard if you want to be the person on top, especially as a woman in a male dominated business field in the media department.

The pair had met at a lavish gala that saw her company overseeing the Chelsea oriented sports gala to ensure it went off without a hitch, in the midst of mingling with guests, she was introduced to him and from there on forward, the pair were inseparable ever since for nearly four years up until tension began to rise between the pair in terms of their occupation, while he thrived both as a player and with his current plans to pursue his studies, she'd felt like she was caught in a state of limbo, working so hard yet still not achieving what she wanted - until that very day ...

He returned home after the international break to find her setting dinner up with an elated expression across her features which in turn caused a wave of confusion to envelop him, " What's gotten you so happy? "

She beams as she replied with an elated tone, " Go on, freshen up then we can sit down and I'll tell you "

Still confused, he nods then smiles at her, leaning in to press a kiss to her forehead before he retreated to their shared bedroom, he showered, changed into more comfortable clothing then he steps out to the dining room, just as she emerged with a bottle of champagne. " Cariña? "

" Sit down " She gestures with a soft smile, as she pours the golden liquid in their glasses then sat down across from him, " You know that big deal I was chasing? the one where I'd be staying in Italy for two years "

His expression shifts, his mind draws back to the less than gentle conversation they had about five weeks back about the prospect of a 'long distance' relationship which admittedly did not sit well in any way, shape or form with him. " Yes "

" Well ... " She began, a broad smile across her lips. " I got it, I got the job "

He stiffens, " What? " he states.

Her smile drops instantly as she said, " What do you mean what? we talked about this a number of times César "

" I didn't think you'd actually go through with it " He retorts, a bit too loud than normal.

" What did you expect was going to happen? this is my career César, I am not going to halt my career for anything or anyone " She states as if it wasn't obvious already.

He frowns, " So I'm just anyone for you "

" That's not what I meant, and don't turn this back on me, you always hated how I'm independent " She bites back, rage evident through her tone.

" Well excuse me for wanting to be the man in this relationship, I thought we were fine, I mean, my job is enough to provide with the two of us " He said, shaking his head then chuckling dryly,

" Oh, so I'm just reduced to the dutiful girlfriend that's supposed to stay at home and wait for you " She retorts, laughing incredulously.

" That's not what I meant, I don't know what you want me to say " He said.

" Act like my boyfriend and be as supportive to me as I have been to you " She said before adding on, " besides, it's only for two years "

" And who's to say we'll even be together in two years, since you can't accept that it's ok to have a man take care of you " He bites back, his eyes widening at the realization of what he said. " Cariña? "

" No " She shakes her head, laughing. " No, I cannot be with someone that has no faith in our love, despite us being together for so long, not to mention someone that knows how hard my life had been " she stands up, blinking away the tears. " I'm going to pack an overnight bag and drive to a hotel, I don't know how long I'll be staying there but I just ... I can't be here "

César follows her to their bedroom, " Cariña, I'm sorry, don't leave please " he tries to plead with her.

" No " She shouts, turning to face him with bloodshot eyes. " No, I cannot and will not stay if you can't accept the fact that I have my own life, my own career that can be balanced while being one half of a relationship, so you know what, we're done "

His eyes widened, then he shakes his head repeatedly. " No, cariña, don't do this, please "

" You are the only person I have ever opened up my heart to, and what did you do? you shattered it entirely " She said with a shaky voice, grabbing the overnight bag to storm out of the bedroom and on towards the front door, suddenly she turns around to face him and says. " I hope you're happy César, goodbye "

That was the day, his heart had shattered in all of its entirety and that was the day, a new César Azpilicueta was born.

Everyone had noticed the shift in his persona, gone was the shy and rather recluse talented player, now being replaced by a crass individual that while he maintained close friends, wasn't exactly lovable by those around him, it didn't help that he'd begun to mingle in the club scene, bringing home an array of women each night to try and fill the void she had left by her departure.

He'd been advised by his management to stop his antics yet to no avail, his role on the pitch had lessened as a punishment for the way he's been behaving and to stop him from further deteriorating, he'd been ordered to attend therapy sessions in order to try and step out of the slump he'd willingly placed himself in, he begrudgingly agreed albeit it seemed that he only became worse and worse until his anger had resulted in him getting injured during Chelsea's bout against Tottenham causing him to be ruled out of action for nearly a year.

During his recovery, the coach had advised him to travel back home to try and recuperate both physically and emotionally to which he agreed, he'd booked a ticket to Spain, opting to take this opportunity to try and move forward from all the ache he felt, unbeknownst to him, she too hadn't been the same since their split - despite succeeding to great heights, her heart still yearned for him yet pride took over, especially once she'd seen the articles linking him to several women which affirmed her belief that he doesn't care about her at all.

______________________________________________________________

It'd been nearly eight years since the pair had physically seen one another, with him making the conscious decision to leave Chelsea as he knew his prime years were far behind him, the other reason being that London would constantly remind him of her - and Madrid was the perfect option, he'd been offered a new role in Atletico Madrid which suited him as he now felt more healed, and detached from the dark place he was in, he decided to dedicate his last years as a player in helping guide young players to come into their own element.

What started as a year contract with Atletico shifted into a renewal that saw him stick around for another year, and what a year that was.

With the 24/25 La Liga season kickstarting, the club had decided to host a charity gala hosted by Atlético Madrid and La Roja's captain Alvaro Morata as part of his solidarity in aiding to shed more light on women's struggle with breast cancer, César had been the first to donate a substantial amount of money as well as play his part in using his platform to bring more awareness, what he didn't expect was for the gala to play it's part in bring them back in each other's paths.

The venue was full of several guests from in and out of the football world, and he stood at a corner chatting with Marcos Llorente when suddenly, the pair were approached by an enthusiastic Alvaro and the last person he expected to see, her.

She was dressed to the nines, a bright azure gown that hugged her perfectly, complimenting her skin tone, her hair was longer and styled elegantly to frame her angelic features that despite them not seeing one another for eight years, still managed to take his breath away.

" Hermanos, this is the lovely woman behind the event flying without a hitch ... " He gestures to her with a cheerful tone seeping from his words.

" You don't have to introduce us " She interjects, " Señor Azpilicueta and I are already familiar with one another, however it's nice to meet you Señor Llorente "

Marcos smiled politely, " Please call me Marcos "

César forced a smile across his lips before he excused himself, making a beeline to step outside and get some fresh air - further confusing Marcos, however not Alvaro as he had managed to put two and two together following months of speculation as well as observing how César would often be occupied on his phone seemingly looking at a person's photo, the person in question being the woman he'd been introduced to by his wife Alice.

César on the other hand, stood outside with a raging heartbeat and trembling hands, with eyes clouded by the storm of emotions that enveloped him and an ache nagging deep in his heart, she seemed so distant, so cold and while he couldn't help her, a minuscule part of him had expected their meeting to go rather differently, his thoughts were suddenly interrupted by the sound of footsteps behind him causing him to turn around, coming face to face with Alvaro. " You should be inside " he gestures.

" Alice has it covered, besides you seemed like you lost all color in your face when you saw her, I take this is the woman that has clouded your mind for the past eight years " Alvaro deduced.

A sad smile adorns his lips, " That obvious huh? " he states with a dry chuckle.

Alvaro nods, chuckling as well before replying. " You never did say what happened? "

A soft sigh escaped his lips. " It's a long story "

" Then? " Alvaro prompted him, " Give me the short version "

" I messed up " He states, with an unreadable tone. " I really messed up "

Alvaro's brows shot up, " Oh, this is serious then " - sure he'd seen the downward spiral his friend and teammate was in a while back yet he never knew what caused it, until now that is.

" She's fiercely independent, so independent that I always wondered why she stuck with me " He starts off, a nostalgic smile across his lips. " We were together for four years when she told me about this deal she was chasing, headlining a major event in Italy which meant that I wouldn't see her for two years "

Alvaro frowns, then asked " surely you two tried to work things out, right? "

César's silence was enough for Alvaro to let out a groan of frustration then state with an incredulous tone, " Are you serious? Azpi, what did you do? "

" We fought, we really fought, and I said some things that I regret, she packed an overnight bag, went to a hotel, I tried to call her, she didn't answer, and when I ... " He breathes out a soft sigh, " When I came back home from an away match, she'd taken everything she had and I never saw her again "

To say Alvaro was bewildered would be an understatement, sure he'd seen the sudden and uncharacteristic shift César had gone through yet he'd never classify him as someone who'd be spiteful much less harm someone he cares about, " Wow " he murmurs.

" Yeah " He replies, an undertone of dejection seeping through his tone. " I wouldn't be surprised if she still hates me "

Alvaro was silent for a brief moment before he said, " I don't think she's the type to hold grudges "

" Alvaro, you don't know her like I do " He states, " The hurt in her eyes still haunts me to this day "

" You're right " Alvaro agrees, " I don't know her, Alice does and she says that she doesn't seem like a spiteful woman, if anything she's the epitome of sunshine "

The phrasing elicited a smile from César who said. " I used to call her that "

Alvaro chuckles, " I think fate intended for the two of you to bump into one another "

" What's the use? it's not like we're going to magically get back together " He said, his tone still carrying an unprecedented amount of dejection, he turns to Alvaro and adds on. " Alvaro, I appreciate you listening, but let's not talk about this again "

Alvaro watches him retreat back inside, he chuckles to himself. " Oh, you're in for a surprise hermano "

A week had passed since their encounter, with César attempting his best not think of her - yet it seemed as if his brain was determined to draw him back to her, so much so that upon hearing a soft and familiar melodic laugh causing a flutter to envelop his heart, he then looks up to see Diego Simeone, the manager chatting with a familiar figure which none other than her, confusion was evident across his features, however it soon vanished upon Alvaro approaching him to say. " Well would you look at that? looks like fate is determined to have you two be in the same place "

César's brows knitted in confusion, " Why is she here? "

" The boss said that the club agreed on her being in charge of all media related to the club moving forward " Alvaro explained.

" And how do you know this tidbit of information? " Marcos chimes in with a chuckle.

Koke laughs, " Alvaro likes to gossip Marcos, you know that! "

Antoine, who'd been silent for the most part decided to chime in as well. " I'm a little lost here, why are we talking about her? "

Alvaro grins, " She's the reason our dear Azpi here hasn't been the same for most, if not his entire career "

César shot him a glare before replying, " Don't listen to him "

Marcos raises a brow, before his eyes widen. " You mean she's ... Oooh " he smiles. " You never mentioned her, Azpi? "

" And I don't need to " César shrugs nonchalantly. " It's part of my past "

" That's cause he's too ashamed to admit he's still in love with her " Alvaro states as though it wasn't already obvious.

César shakes his head, " No I do not "

Before any of them could respond, the whistle was blown for the team to enter to regroup before continuing on with training, and as César was about to make his way inside, Diego calls out for him causing him to visibly wince before turning to face his manager as well as her, he responds. " Sí "

" Do you mind giving our guest a tour around the facility? after lunch of course " Diego states.

César looks at her, and she seemed so well composed that he couldn't gauge exactly what she felt, he forces a smile across his lips then says, " I can do it now, that's if she is alright with it "

" I don't want to take away from your time, I can wait " She states, attempting to remain as composed as possible.

" No " He shakes his head, " It's fine "

Diego smiles, " Very well then, we'll speak later "

César was now left alone with her, as well as a wave of awkward yet deafening silence - she avoids his gaze and states, " I see you've been doing well since leaving Chelsea "

He smiles, " It wasn't easy leaving London but I had to "

" I understand " She murmurs softly.

" Come on, we have a tour ahead " He said, the pair walking side by side to walk around the facility while he attempted to explain the history behind Atletico's achievements to the best of his ability.

She listened intently, commenting whenever she saw fit, and as they reached the end of this brief tour, she was about to turn around and leave before hearing her name slip out of her mouth causing to stop midway, she reluctantly turns around to face him as he walked up to her, " What? " she wonders.

César visibly swallows the lump in his throat before asking with a rather shaky voice, " If it's ok with you, I would like for us to have dinner together? "

Her brows knit in both surprise as well as confusion, " Pardon me? "

" It's been eight years, I think we can start over, least as friends " He reiterates his previous statement.

A soft laugh escapes her lips, a dry laugh for that matter. " You've got some nerve to say that? after what you've done "

" You can't hold this over my head " He whispers, " It's been so long "

" So? you think that just because I'm on top of the world with my job, that I'm perfectly fine " She states, with a sad smile. " No, César ... I'm not fine, and besides " she pauses, chuckling. " You seemed to be perfectly fine after I left "

The venomous tone in her last phrase reminds him of the spiral he'd been enveloped in, he looks down for a moment before looking back up and stating, " I wasn't fine either "

" Oh yeah, and fucking different women every night was your way of healing, well color me impressed César " She laughs once more before adding, " Listen, there's a reason why I haven't divulged or spoke of the fact that you and I have history together, so let's keep it professional ok "

As she turned around, ready to storm off - his following words caused her to freeze in place.

" I'm not going to stop until I get you back "

She was frozen for what felt like an eternity before she mustered up a crude reply, " I'd like to see you try "

That encounter seemed to be the match that ignited the clear fire between the pair - whilst she attempted her best to remain as calm, professional and composed as she can, the same couldn't be said about him, his antics started when she'd gotten home one night to find dozens of rose bouquets scattered around her front door with a single folded paper placed on top of her doormat, shaking her head, she reaches over to pick up the paper and unfold it, recognizing his familiar handwriting.

One day, you'll relent and see that we are meant to be.

She crumbles up the paper, composing herself before she entered her home, then she reaches inside her bag to pull out her cellphone, with the full of intent of calling him yet she realized that this exactly what he wanted - instead, she opted not to grant him the satisfaction of seeing her react.

The following morning, as she worked on establishing a new strategy to attract further eyes onto Atletico, especially the academy, she was interrupted by her secretary who tentatively entered her office carrying a small bag along with a plastic cup of coffee, " Señora, these are for you? "

She tilts her head in confusion, " I didn't order anything "

" I know señora " He responds softly, " Someone had ordered it for you! "

" Someone? " She echoed as he had placed the items on her table, suddenly realizing who that someone was, she smiles at her secretary. " Gracias, you can head back to work "

He nods then leaves her office, shutting the door behind him as she reaches over to grab the bag, gently opening to find a sealed cupcake box with yet another note, she rolls her eyes, pulling both the note and box out, she reaches for the note to read it.

You always forget to eat at this time, hope you enjoy the cupcake :)

She then opens the box to find her favorite cupcake flavor, a pumpkin spice cupcake - with frosting decorating the top that contained small writing which said ... [ my sunshine ], despite her attempts not to smile, her lips subconsciously curled up as she took a gentle bite from the treat before taking a small sip of the coffee, suddenly her phone vibrated inciting confusion as she pulled the device to her to check, it was a message from him.

you're welcome 😘

She shakes her head, then types back.

let's not act like I've forgiven you 😒

It didn't take long for her to receive a response in return.

I know, that's why I won't be giving up cariña 😏

His antics only seemed to grow rather ludicrous as time went on - when the club had invited her to oversee the players shooting a commercial for the club's sponsor company, she'd arrived and was lead to a makeshift office when the first thing she noted was an obvious message from him, a gift from the club in the form of an honorary jersey as well as another jersey, which happened to be a number 3 signed Azpilicueta jersey, and underneath the jersey was yet another note, she grabs the note, nearly chuckling as she read what he'd written.

I know you still hate me, but maybe you'd find it in your icy heart to put on this jersey for tomorrow's match :)

She shakes her head softly, placing the note inside her bag and as she was about to grab her laptop, she turns around coming face to face with him, he smiles at her then says, " You look lovely today "

Instead of responding, she throws up her middle finger. " Can't say the same for you "

He laughs, " Come on cariña, your heart didn't soften a bit for me? for the sake of old times "

She chuckles, " You said it yourself, my heart is icy, and it doesn't soften for people who had no faith in the love we shared " she moves past him attempting to walk out, only for her hand to gently grab her arm. " César, let me go "

" Not until you look me in the eye and say that you don't love me " He said with a soft tone.

Her eyes harden, the words lay dormant on the tip of her tongue, she wanted to say that she loved him yet the wound in her heart would sting every now and then reminding her that this was the same man that had blatantly stated that they'd split up should she accept her job in Italy, " I don't owe you anything "

He smiled in response, " I knew it "

" You don't know anything " She spat, releasing herself from his grasp. " I hate you "

He laughs, " I love you too cariña "

Suffice to say, things had grown definitely arduous, every now and then he'd send her looks which spoke more than his lips ever did - and as much as she tried to remain professional, her resolve had definitely begun to weaken much to her dismay, and much to his pleasure.

Alvaro, who'd been an observer to all the interactions was thoroughly amused, deciding to approach her the following day just before the match would kick off, the pair exchanged a relatively normal conversation until he decided to steer the direction towards César by stating, " You know, he really never forgot you? "

Her brows knit, her eyes narrowed at his statement, " Pardon? "

" Azpi " He clarified, with a soft smile. " Throughout the time I've known him, both in Chelsea, Atletico as well as the national time, not a single woman compared to you, sure he behaved like a complete idiot "

" That's an understatement " She chuckles dryly.

He laughs, " He really regrets how everything played out, and if you ask me, maybe you should give him a second chance "

She looks down, letting out a soft breath before looking up. " Did he send you? "

Alvaro shakes his head furiously, " No, but as a concerned friend, and someone that sees who you really are, you two are meant to be "

She laughs then shakes her head, " Well, if he didn't send you then you can tell him that I'm no longer the doe eyed girl that held him at a high regard "

" Just think about it " He said, before returning to the players to start warming up.

She was lead to the VIP box, and against her better judgment had decided to wear his jersey, a decision that had garnered his attention as around halfway through the first half - he'd assisted Alvaro in scoring a goal, and upon celebrating with his fellow teammate, his eyes trailed up to meet hers, his face visibly lighting up at her choice of jersey, she remained as stoic as she could be, a contrast to her raging heartbeat.

The second half proved to be more intense than the first, and while at first she wanted to appear uncaring of the match yet couldn't help but find herself at the edge of her seat, as César swipes through the midfield nearing the goal net, and in what appears to be a miracle manages to score the second goal which was reminiscent of his early days in Chelsea, reminding her of all the times she sat in the stands watching him perform at the highest of his abilities, she silently cheered, remaining as composed as possible only for the composure to vanish, only to be replaced by embarrassment as César runs to the corner of the pitch drawing a heart in the air then pointing at her, a move which saw a few eyes looking at her curiously, she visibly shrinks, hoping that her flaming cheeks weren't visible.

Mere hours after the match, she was lead to the backstage area by a security employee - the moment she stepped to the backstage area, she was approached by Alvaro who asked, " Did you enjoy? "

" I did " She replies, smiling widely. " You guys played very well "

" A little too well since someone wanted to impress you " Alvaro grins.

" Shut up " She laughs, before her eyes locked with his, she excused herself then walked up to him. " You did good "

He chuckles, " Just good? "

" Don't push it " She groans lowly.

He laughs softly, " I had to play at my highest ability since la guardiana de mi corazón was watching "

" You're something else Azpilicueta, do you know that? " She chuckles.

" Only for you, I told you, I'm not giving up " He replies with a visible beam.

She grows silent, chewing on her bottom lip, a move that instinctively drew his attention towards them, she was quick to compose herself then say, " If I were to accept your advances, and that's a big If - what would your intentions be? would they be like the first time? "

His eyes visibly softened, " I promise you cariña, I won't hurt you. I know I was blind, selfish too because providing for you made me happy, it made me feel like a man, like I had the incredible responsibility of protecting an angel, but I should have known that being overly protective and stubborn would cost me the most incredible woman I had, so if you agree to give me a second chance, I vow to honor it for the rest of my life "

Her eyes glossed upon hearing his words, " I may have my own career, my own income, and my own personality, but I'm still the girl that you love, the girl that loves you, sure my pride was getting in the way, however it was only because I didn't want to admit that my heart still belonged to you, even when you were the one that shattered it "

With no word uttered, he pulls her towards him, the pair sharing a warm embrace emitting of ache as well as longing. " I'm so sorry cariña, I'm so sorry " he whispers against her neck.

She pressed a kiss to the side of his head, " I love you " she whispers.

He lifts his head up, his cheeks stained by a few stray tears. " Say that again cariña, please? " he pleads with a shaky voice.

She leans in to press a soft kiss against his lips. " I love you "

" I love you too " He smiles widely.

" Azpi " She whispers with a soft tone, " Promise to never let me go? "

" I promise " He nods, pressing a kiss to her forehead.

#cesar azpilicueta #cesar azpilicueta imagine #cesar azpilicueta one shot #cesar azpilicueta fanfiction #cesar azpilicueta fanfic #cesar azpilicueta x reader #cesar azpilicueta angst #cesar azpilicueta fluff

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livfastdieyoung69 · 1 year

Text

ROCKSTARS NEVER DIE-

(Ch.2) A Nikki Sixx Story.

Rowan woke once again to a kick in the ribs with a groan.

“You know I’d be a lot happier if you stopped kicking me every morning.” Rowan grumbled into the same grimey, sweat stained pillow they had a week ago.

“Still not morning. And you have to go to that audition thing that one guy invited you to.”

“His name’s Mick.” They mumbled, moving to look over at their beloved guitar, a shitty worn down Stratorcastor modified to play their signature tone, only to find it missing. “Where the fuck is my guitar?”

“I had to take it last night when you came home at 4 am and started playing Iron Maiden songs as loud as you could turn your amp to.”

“Fuckin’ love Iron Maiden, man..”

“Yeah, I know. Do you know where this is and do I have to drive you? Cause Dotty asked if I could come in and if you want a ride we have to leave in like five minutes.” Holly rambled, her words getting faster as she tossed her light brown waves over her shoulder. Rowan took a minute to process what Holly had said.

“Uh…its..just up the road. I’ll just walk, Hols it's fine.” They finally spoke looking up to the girl towering over her from their place on the mattress.

“Are you sure? I don’t mind driving you.” Holly was always concerned about Rowan, which was fair enough with all of the dumb shit they seemed to do.

“Really it’s fine, I could use a walk. And a smoke.”

“Alright, well, I’m heading out then. Call the diner if you need anything, ok?”

“I will. See you, Hol!”

“See you, Ro!” She yelled before slamming the apartment door shut. Rowan struggled to get up from the mattress with a groan and a few sighs before finally getting ready for the day.

A harsh knock sounded on the apartment door, bringing the attention of the small group inside. A faint shout could be heard through the poorly built walls before the door knob began to twist. The door almost seemed to wobble as it was opened, a gust of wind giving off from the quickness of the skinny man on the other side.

“What can I do you for, dude?” Maybe man wasn’t such a good word. He was more of a young boy with a shining smile and mop of hair, the same complexity of Hollys, to match. A pair of drumsticks were sticking out of his belt.

“Um, Mick gave me your guys’ address.” They picked their guitar case up from off the ash-covered, cement ground. “I’m the guitarist- rhythm guitarist, I guess.”

“Oh, right on, man! Come on in, Mick just got here too. I’m Tommy and Nikki’s taking a piss but he's the bassist.” Rowan threw Mick a small wave from his place by his amp- M.M. carved subtly into the top. “Oh, and that’s Greg.”

The bathroom door opened to reveal who Rowan guessed was Nikki, still fixing his studded belt back on, and pulling the attention away from the blonde man- supposedly the other rythm guitarist they had at the moment. He looked up after closing the bathroom door behind him and clumsily pointing over at Rowan.

“Who’s this?” The question came out through a sigh as his eyes shifted over to Tommy’s.

“I’m Rowan. Mick thought my sound would be cool with yours, so..” They finished with a shrug, eyes trailing through the room.

“Wait- what the hell is this?” Greg spoke, clearly frusturated- or maybe threatened was a better description- by Rowans presence.

“Chill, dude. They’re just someone Mick knows and we figured- might as well try it out.” Tommy tried to settle the man, the quiet of the apartment quickly returning very awkwardly.

“We have an extra amp if you need it.” Nikki spoke up, carrying an extra amp over to them.

“Uh, yeah thanks. Sorry, I couldn’t carry mine over, but I’ve got the cords and all my pedals.” Rowan finally set their guitar case down and opened it, shoving the cords over to Nikki so he could plug it in and lifting up their guitar- a dark red SG with pinstripe work Rowan had done themselves over many grueling hours and a couple homemade add-ons to the model that gave it just the right sound.

“Tune that however you want, and we’ve only got one copy of the sheet music so I guess just play whatever feels good.” Rowan tuned the amp- which was smaller than the others, but not by much- as he continued talking.

“That's fine. Can’t stand that fancy-ass sheet music shit anyways.” They mumbled in response. Nikki glanced over at Tommy’s drum set to find Tommy with the same amused look, mouthing “Mick 2.0” at him. Nikki chuckled at the younger boy before moving his eyes over to Rowan who continued with their tuning.

“You can tune all your shit and we’ll play with….him first and then when we’re done we’ll play with you. See what sounds better.” He started walking over to his bass while he talked, pulling the strap over his head and strumming the strings of the unplugged instrument while he continued talking.

They began quickly, Tommy counting the others in. Mick sounded just as good as he always did, which was fucking fantastic, but the Greg guy was too slow. Everyone else was pretty clearly aggrivated everytime he missed a note or fell behind. They didn’t even finish the song, Nikki had gotten annoyed and just stopped playing in the middle of it.

“I’m ready when you are.” They spoke, flicking their pedals on with what was left of the rubber sole of their worn-down sneakers. The amps hum grew from behind them, and Nikki seemed to be holding on to any sort of hope that they would sound good.

The wooden sticks in Tommy’s hand clung together in the correct beat before Mick started strumming his guitar, Tommy and Nikki joining in shortly. Rowan stood with their eyes closed, hands twitching up and down the fretboard as they searched for the perfect note and listened to the others at the same time. As the drums picked up, Rowan waited for their opporunity to jump in, and did so quickly and effortlessly.

Nikki and Tommy looked at each other once more, amazed at the sound coming from the SG- unheard, and unbelieveable. Mick watched them play with a sense of pride, but Rowan was oblivious to it all with their eyes still closed and mind on nothing but guitar. Nikki couldn’t have found a better fit- it was fucking perfect. Now to get rid of this Greg dipshit. Before Nikki could do anything about, Rowan did.

“Yeah, so, I’m obviously better. You can, uh..” Rowan trailed off, clicking their tongue and pointing towards the door with their thumb. Greg laughed in a tone as if to say, “unbelievable”.

“Look, I was here first, alright. Tommy, tell them.” The clackering of Tommy’s drum stick made Rowan turn, finding Tommy bent over. “Nikki? Come on!” Nikki only shrugged. Greg didn’t even think of looking at Mick, they weren’t on good terms to start with. “Really?! You’re gonna listen to this weirdo over me?” Rowan gave the man a sardonic smile as he yelled over them at Nikki who only looked to the ground.

“Then fuck you guys, man! And your shitty fuckin’ band.” He unplugged his guitar, and made a dash towards the door. It kinda sounded like he was crying as he slammed the door. Tommy let out a laugh from behind his drumset.

“Well. Free amp.” Rowan spoke. They really were a bunch of assholes, huh?

“So….what's with the eye?” Apparently Tommy had a thing for asking rude questions to guitarists after admitting them into the band. Nikki sent him a frustrated whisper of his name, receiving a clueless look in return.

“What?” Sometimes Rowan forgot their left eye wasn’t normal, or functioning. “Oh! Uh,” Their hand moved to play with the dent left from a scar in their left eyebrow above the once brown, but now a cloudy white eye. “Just- somethin’ that happened when I was a kid.” After Rowan's avoidance of the question, the group of four went back into silence, the sound of Mick’s beer bottle clanging against the patio table set in the living room as one meant for dining

“Anyways..” Nikki looked over to Tommy while he spoke, still iriated with him. “We really need a fuckin’ singer. And I’m not about to settle for some regular looking, normal sounding asshole. We need a dude that looks like David Lee Roth with a vibe like fuckin’ Bowie.”

“So..we’re lookin’ for a skinny, blond fucker.” Mick stated.

“A skinny, blond fucker with moves.” Rowan corrected him, finishing off the rest of their beer, the same clashing that happened seconds earlier reoccurring before Tommy got the chance to respond.

“Wait-wait, I think I know our guy dudes.”

rowan got that dawg in em winning everyones hearts over in like thirty seconds

I’m actually pretty happy with this, and im really glad to be writing again, i actually think im boutta start writing the next chapter rn nikkis just been on my mind so much recently, my motley obsession comes back at least three times a year and i just reread the herion diaries and got his other two books so thats def not helping (also this is giving me an excuse to rewatch the dirt for all of the lines)

#nikki sixx x reader #LIV writes;*!#nikki sixx #rockstarsneverdie #Rowan sun #motley crue #motley crue x oc

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lunamists · 1 year

Text

A Different Kind of Danger [BKDK]

Omegaverse A/B/O

A!Doctor!Bakugou x O!Yakuza Boss!Izuku

Cw: blood, violence, injury, weapons, murder

---

Katsuki sighed as his shift at the hospital ended and he finally got the chance to head home. It had been a grueling 12 hour shift and it felt like everyone somehow was managing to get hurt in the worst ways possible. Way more than usual.

He watched the clock closely while he typed into the computer some notes for himself and things for patients he took care of earlier.

Once that clock hit 12 am, he was free.

He barely got much sleep the night before so he was lucky to have himself a day off the moment he stepped foot out of the hospital. Slinging his bag closer to himself he started his walk back home.

His house was only about a block away, he got somewhere that was close enough so he wouldn't have to drive everyday to work while being in the middle of all the good food spots and stores.

It was no wonder why the price tag on that house was so high.

He just let the cool autumn air hit his skin practically dreaming about the warm shower he would be able to take and the long nap he would be engulfed in when he got home.

Or so he thought he'd get.

No, a doctor's job is never done even when they aren't in their hospital.

So when he passed by an alleyway that he normally didn't pass by, only changing things up because of the construction that had started at some point during the day, he saw the figure of someone in the alley.

Now there was 2 things he kept in mind once he got his degree.

1. He couldn't save everyone.

2. Saving someone might cause him his life.

He was currently staring at the figure remembering his second note but he couldn't help the distressed scent that came from within drawing him in. It was an omega he could tell very easily.

But what he couldn't tell was what exactly was wrong.

The more his eyes focused and the cars that passed by that illuminated light into the alley for split seconds the more he could notice.

The way the omega was breathing heavily and was slightly slouched.

And the slight traces and smell of fresh blood.

Was the omega hurt? Does he say something? The omega is still standing...but is still in distress.

He didn't have much time to think about that though as the omega leaned slightly back before turning their head towards Katsuki.

"I can hear you, you know. What do you think you're doing?" The male voice asked. Male omegas were rare so Katsuki's eyes slightly widened upon hearing him.

"I smell the blood and distress coming right off you. If you're trying to not be noticed you're doing a poor job at it."

Katsuki watched as the man turned around more and took some steps forward as he chuckled quietly. "Are you scared? Worried? I can't tell with you...I usually can."

"Yeah, that's the power of scent blockers and suppressants working their magic. You should invest."

"You're funny. I could be coming over to kill you next and you still have such a sharp tongue with me" The omega fully stepped out from the shadows and Katsuki got a good look at him.

His hair was a curly mess–well, overall he was kinda messy. Probably from whatever he just went through. His eyes were slightly in a daze but Katsuki could still see the dull green that hid behind his expression. His eyes matched his hair in the green aspect but his hair was slightly matted and clearly had some blood whether it was dry or not was hard to fully make out.

He wore a black blouse that showed off his arms and was slightly unbuttoned to show his collar. His body was covered in scars, some worse that others but one of his arms had a full sleeve of tattoos that reached up to his neck that covered up some.

His blouse, however, along with the pants he wore, white bell bottoms that he wore were drenched in blood, some spots were brighter than the others showing the age of the blood.

Katsuki looked over his body, he wasn't dainty, quite the opposite actually, he packed muscles that matched Katsuki's own. Hell, he'd say they were even tougher looking. His outfit said quite the opposite than his figure, so he was confused on why he was so dressed up.

Though those questions would have to wait, however as the omega looked at Katsuki, taking in his features as well and went to talk to him again but quickly went to hold his side as he hissed in pain.

"F-Fuck.. Adrenaline wore off.." He chuckled quietly through his teeth. Katsuki sprung into action, not even thinking, just turning on his doctor brain for this guy even though he openly admitted to killing as he gently grabbed a hold of his wrist to pull his hand back.

"Let me see." The guy had a glint in his eye that screamed death that would make anyone stay at least 50 feet away from him but Katsuki stood his ground.

"Let me see. I'm not going to hurt you nor say anything. Just let me see."

The man's glint slowly turned into a look of pain as he relaxed and let Katsuki take a look at his side. From first glance you couldn't have tell that there was a wound there, a deep one at that.

But as Katsuki lifted up the side of his blouse he saw the deep gash there. It was crazy to him that this man was even still standing and talking and even walking. "How long ago did this happen?" Katsuki asked pulling back for a second to look through his bag.

"Shit...I.. I'm not sure...I guess I kinda blacked out there the entire time.. Once that fucker was d-dead I noticed that was there. He must have got me with a knife or something.. It's no big deal, I can walk it.....off..." His words trailed off as he watched Katsuki bring out compression bandages and wrap them around his torso before sighing. "My place isn't that far.. I have medical supplies there.. You need stitches now."

"You think I'm just going to let you take me to your house? Absolutely n-"

The man held an arm over his eyes as he let Katsuki stitch up his wound. He didn't make a sound, he looked just tired honestly, and before he knew it Katsuki was done with the stitches and bandaged them up.

"That was the quickest stitches I've ever got.. And they're really neat..hm." The man hummed impressed.

"..A doctor helping some random person in pain...a random person who just killed someone in an alley. You aren't afraid of that?"

"Threatened too many times to be phased honestly."

"Yeesh, doctor life sounds rough." The air filled with silence for awhile as Katsuki packaged back all he had into their respective spots until the man spoke again. "Thank you.. What's your name?"

"Katsuki. You?"

"...I have a feeling you'll find out one day. I better go, my lieutenants are probably worried why I haven't returned."

Katsuki looked the man up and down before chuckling. "Normally I'd suggest not moving at all right now, but, you seem like you can take it." The man smiled at him before he started to walk to the door. "Not many people would do what you did." He hummed quietly. "For that I'm in your debt." He said before he walked out of the house.

Katsuki sighed, watching the man leave. He didn't have a story, he didn't have details, yet he let in someone who was bloodied in not just his own blood but also someone else's.

He let in a murderer.

Yet, he didn't feel weird about it.

The omega, while strong, yes, couldn't mask the pain he was in. The pain of betrayal and heartbreak. Maybe he went feral? Maybe that was just him naturally. What he didn't know wouldn't hurt him.

But what he wanted to know could possibly.

Katsuki spent his day off mostly inside. He couldn't be bothered to use more energy than he needed to. Energy that could be stored for his shift tomorrow. He was still on call, sure, so his day off could be cut short.

But he didn't want to think about that so he just laid about, mostly sleeping but watching movies. The one time he decided to go out that day was when it was around dinner time. He decided to order food and bring it back home.

He hasn't been able to eat at the place in awhile so, it was like his treat for getting through as much as he had.

Yet, a thing he tends to forget about is how dangerous his area of living is.

So when someone came up behind him, holding a knife to his neck, demanding everything he had on him. He let out an exasperated sigh and jabbed the perpetrator in the stomach and twisted his arm around.

The person groaned in pain as they dropped the knife, giving Katsuki the in to push them down to the ground and step on their wrist. He was about to let go and tell them to run off and leave him alone but a giggle came from behind, catching him off guard.

"Got yourself under control?" Katsuki looked back at the green haired omega before looking back down at the thug who looked like they've seen a ghost.

"You know you're not supposed to be doing things like this in this area, silly." He said to the thug, walking closer.

"M-Midoriya..I..I'm sorry..my..my boss was going to kill me if I didn't get s-something for him. I'm so-"

"So this is your boss' doing, hm?"

He said before snapping. Katsuki was confused until a couple of people came out from behind him, making him jump. A brown haired omega and a blue haired alpha. They quickly took a hold of the thug on the ground and looked at..Midoriya.

"The warehouse? You want us to get ahold of his boss too?" Midoriya thought for a moment, humming quietly. "Leave the boss to me, kay? Anyone can take care of him there. I have something to take care of."

He said, looking back at Katsuki. The two of them nodded and dragged the thug off leaving Katsuki and Midoriya to their own devices.

"Just..what..are you?" Katsuki asked, confused. "Let's go get your food, alright Kacchan?" Midoriya said, starting to walk in that direction.

"How do you-"

"You'll get those answers eventually."

Katsuki was unsure whether or not to just leave it be but in the end he just nodded and quit trying to ask him questions.

Midoriya was clearly someone to not mess with, not that he wished to.

It was strange. Katsuki would run into Midoriya then go a week without seeing him again. Most times that he saw him was by complete accident. Katsuki couldn't say he was complaining and everytime he saw him he just felt like he got closer to him.

It was probably what had brought Midoriya to be waiting for him outside of the hospital he worked at after his shift with a grin.

"Wanna find out everything?"

Izuku, Katsuki came to learn, brought him to his place of work while starting to explain some things. "Izuku Yagi, to be exact. Head of the Yagi clan. I run everything alongside my father."

Katsuki listened as he spoke, curious of what this would lead to. "The day you patched me up was the day I found out my alpha was actually out to kill me rather than be with me. It was arranged, but.." He trailed off, looking out the window. "I guess I started to actually feel something for him towards the end there." He sighed.

"I shouldn't drag you so deep into this, but.. You patching me up meant a lot.." He hummed. "Plus you looked so miserable. No offence. Thought we could spice your life up a bit." He winked.

Katsuki chuckled quietly, rolling his sleeves up. "Spice?" He hummed, looking at Izuku. "Who says there's not already spice in my life." Izuku's eyes widened as he looked down at the sleeves of tattoos he had on his arms before a grin appeared on his face.

"Katsuki. Katsuki Bakugou." He held his hand out. "My clan isn't situated in this area, we're actually quite far. So I don't blame you for no recognition. Its been getting kinda boring..yet when you came in my life that rush was back." He smirked.

"So what do you do right now?"

"We've been wanting to expand while situating a name here. I already had a medical degree and with my work there I'm already renowned as the best in this hospital here. While I do that, I do distant work, looking for people to work with."

Izuku clapped his hands happily. "Oh, Kacchan! You should have told me sooner! Oh, I can't wait to introduce you to everyone." Izuku sighed happily learning more about Katsuki as Katsuki did with Izuku.

They walked around the halls where many people worked in their building, everyone bowing a head at Izuku as he passed by. It was rare to have an omega be a clan leader and be respected as much as Izuku was. Yet everyone here treated him like a force not to mess with. It made sense, Katsuki was strong, stronger than average.

Yet Izuku could kill someone with the flick of his wrist.

He could get even the biggest of alphas to kneel out of command with his words. Katsuki admired his strength.

"Dad! I brought someone back!" Izuku giggled, running into a room.

Toshinori looked at Katsuki, instantly noticing his tattoos and smiled warmly. "Welcome. You must be the 'Kacchan' my son has been talking about." Katsuki looked towards Izuku who had a light blush on his cheeks. "That would be me, sir."

Toshinori walked towards him and held his hand out for him.

"Which?"

"Bakugou." He shook his hand. He nodded, "The way you treat my son according to him is admirable. Not many see him past his secondary gender. You have my respect." He told him honestly.

Katsuki prided himself in the instant respect he gained from what seemed like such an influential force. He bowed his head before looking back at Izuku.

"Your son is the strongest person I've ever met. Thank you for allowing me to stay in his life."

Izuku looked at Katsuki, a glint in his eye that just showed care...and love. The time they've spent together, though not long, has meant a lot to him. The way Katsuki treats him, the way he has the most fun teasing him, the way Katsuki just allowed him into his life.

That's why when later, when they were being driven back to Katsuki's place Izuku looked over at him and began to speak.

"To repay you for helping me out, what can I give you?" He asked.

"Just your presence is enough." Katsuki answered, looking out the window.

"C'mon, there's gotta be something!" He shook his shoulder. Katsuki chuckled and finally met his gaze.

"You wanna know what I honestly want?" Izuku nodded rapidly, listening intently. "The chance to court you. That's what I really want."

Izuku blushed and smiled softly, his heart feeling like it would thud out of his chest.

"I guess today made me realize the way you make me feel. It would be an honor to be your alpha." Katsuki had a determined look in his eye. Izuku let out a happy scent and nodded gently laying his head on his shoulder. "It would be an honor, Kacchan, but know that I'm no pushover." "

I'm willing to work as hard as I need to for you."

"Then it's settled."

---

End!!

#bkdk #bakudeku #katsudeku #mha ship #mha

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