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1d1195 · 2 months

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Invitation

~3.5k words

From me: I mentioned I had a kinda rough weekend. This just sort of wrote itself. Def a stand alone. Second chance at love. I wrote it mostly in the drafts page and didn't do a whole lot of editing for continuity so it's probs not very realistic nor will it make a ton of sense. But anyway.

Warnings: MC parent death; funeral, angst, angst angst. But I'm hoping if you read it you'll see some cathartic, comforting fluff.

Summary: She and Harry broke up years ago and it was completely fine. But seeing her again, even under sad circumstances has his heart pulling him closer to her.

It had been eight years since he had last laid eyes on her. But when he read the piece on her mum off a mutual friend’s Facebook page he was transported back to one of those moments he spent so totally in love with her.

The idea that her best friend was gone made him terrified for her well being. It was the reason he was in a hotel room, straightening his tie in the mirror. Double checking he didn't miss any spots while shaving. He looked simultaneously presentable yet solemn. Her mum was special, beautiful. She made Harry feel at home the entire time they dated. Bought him thoughtful gifts for his birthday and Christmas. Made sure she bought his favorite snacks and always inquired about school, work, or his favorite show. She joked with her that Harry was too good for her and she didn’t treat him well enough (which was inherently false). She was the perfect girlfriend and had the perfect mum.

He couldn’t imagine how she was feeling.

Harry didn’t want to make his appearance about his arrival at the funeral home at all. He stepped in line silently, tried not to make eye contact with anyone and slowly made his way through toward the front, pretending he was invisible. He looked at the picture boards as he walked along his favorite girl and her mother in so many of them. Both were beautiful and Harry thought she was going to look just like her mother when she was older and so he was really lucky that he would know she was beautiful for the rest of his life. But he would have predicted that anyway.

Their relationship ended amicably enough. They were changing, time moving on, and quite frankly it felt like they couldn't spend enough time together so it didn't seem fair. "Shouldn't we want t'spend time with each other, beautiful? Shouldn't we feel feel bad we're not spending time together? It shouldn't be forced. You're m'favorite person in the world, kitten. S'not fair."

He was right of course. She agreed. So they went their separate ways. Since they were still in university at the time, they saw each other frequently. Their friend groups overlapped a bit so they weren't rid of each other all that much until after graduation. There was even a picture of the pair of them together on that day--her mum's suggestion. It was apparent more so then, that they were changing and moving on but Harry was grateful for that picture. When he saw the notice of her mum's passing, he looked at it fondly and felt something in the pit of his stomach. Wanting and wishing he had made more time for her. That she wasn't so busy and their time apart hadn't lasted as long.

But that was eight years ago. Harry was thirty now. He had a few girlfriends during that time and maybe it wasn't a surprise they didn't work out. When he inquired of his friends if he should go to support her, they said it was up to him. Louis and Eleanor were out of the country so they would send flowers. Mitch and Sarah were waiting for Sarah to give birth at any moment so they too, would send flowers.

"I'll be at the funeral," Niall assured him. "I can't make the visiting hours, sorry, Harry," Harry could hear his frown as they spoke on the phone.

"S'okay, s'nice y'can make it t'any of it. She'll appreciate it."

"I hope," a frown in his voice, a sigh in his tone.

"No, she will," Harry was confident. She would never make Niall feel bad--anyone feel bad. It was just the way she was.

Harry was in front of the urn containing the ashes of her mother and he knelt and said a short prayer for her and her sweet daughter. He tried not to think about his own mother at such a sad time and how he would feel if this was her. He shook his head, blessed himself automatically, and stood to greet the receiving line. It was filled with aunts and uncles who were surprised to see him. He didn't fully understand their surprise (of course he would be there for her--even if things were different now) but moved to each one, quietly apologizing for the loss of their sister and only answering how work, life, and everything was with as few words as possible. It was just her and her mom. Dad was out of the picture before she was even born. It wasn't a bad thing because she was her mum's whole life and she never made her want for anything. "Where is she?" Harry asked quietly. Usually the children were first in the line but she wasn't there.

"Another spat with the boyfriend," her aunt rolled her eyes. "You are by far our favorite," she smiled at him encouragingly. "Don't leave till she gets back, if you can. She deserves to see someone who will make her happy right now," she winked.

Harry felt his eyebrows crawl up his forehead in surprise. He nodded. Pride bloomed inside him for being the favorite. It wasn't the time but he couldn't help it. His heart felt heavy, worried she was with someone horrible. "Yeah, sure. Of course."

So Harry stayed in the little seating area, watching people walk through the receiving line, looking at the slideshow of pictures that somehow managed to boil down to one person's life. There was even a picture or two of him. It made sense, he was in her life for nearly four years and they were inseparable until they weren't.

Harry smiled fondly at the memories within the pictures and wondered where she could be right now. He had seen the full slideshow twice.

"Harry, you're still here?"

He cleared his throat, stood, and shook one of her uncle's hands again. "Yeah... um... haven't seen her yet."

"She went outside with the boyfriend ages ago. I'm assuming they're still arguing or she's trying to calm herself down enough to come in and fake that everything's fine."

Harry frowned. "Maybe I'll go check then," he suggested and headed for the door.

Why was she dating someone if it was clear no one in her family liked him?

The men at the door, let Harry through and he quietly walked to the side of the building wondering where she could be having a private conversation at a funeral home. The side was dark except for a flood light that perfectly illuminated the couple. Harry stepped out of sight but strained to listen.

"What do you mean, 'you have to go'? You're seriously joking right?"

Harry didn't know her voice could take on a tone that sounded so angry like that. They never fought that way. No more than who's pizza topping was better or if they had to pick which dinner place to go to on a busy Saturday night.

"Babe, you know with my work--"

"This is my mother," she croaked. It felt like a bullet through Harry's chest to hear her choked up like that. All that grief wrapping in her throat and pulling on her vocal cords.

"I know, but don't you think she would want me to continue living my life and doing what I need to do so--"

"She's my best friend," her voice cracked because she was crying so hard. Harry wanted to run over, unceremoniously knock him to the ground, and comfort her. "You're supposed to be here to support me!"

"Well you know death kind of freaks me out, babe. I'm trying to support our future. I've been here all day."

Her tone was so biting, he truly couldn't believe it. "You've been here for an hour."

Harry winced and shook his head. No one liked death. Everyone was freaked out by it to some degree. But he was supposed to love her; be there for her.

"If you leave, we're done," Harry felt intrusive for listening in but he couldn't move.

"You don't mean that."

"I do, mean that. I really, really, really, really mean that," she sniffed. Good girl. Harry thought. "I have put up with your bullshit like this for way too long and you're unsupportive and if you leave this is it," she assured him. "Work cannot be more important than me."

"It's important for us, babe. So when we get married--"

"And when will that be?" She shouted.

"For the love of God, we're going to do this now?"

"It's been three years. I'm thirty and wanted kids and you are just..." she trailed off. "Fine. Go. We're done anyway."

"Babe, you don't mean that--"

"I will pack my stuff up when I get home."

"And where are you going to go? You don't have a job right now--"

"BECAUSE I WAS TAKING CARE OF MY DYING MOTHER."

Why was she even with this guy? Harry couldn't fathom it. It was so unlike her to date someone so crass and careless. Or maybe Harry was just filled with rage and envy of a man that couldn't help her the way she deserved.

"Well..." he cleared his throat. "I'm sorry you feel that way. I have a plane to catch. Maybe after you've calmed down and aren't grieving we can have a more pleasant conversation."

A silent moment passed between them. Surely he heard it as he said it. It couldn't have been just her and Harry that heard what he implied. "Do... do you... do you think I'm supposed to be done grieving?" She hissed.

He sighed, mumbled something about calling her when he landed, and walked away. He didn't even notice Harry pressed to the building.

Harry watched him get in his car and pull away as if this wasn't the worst day of her life. Harry took several deep breaths to calm himself. This wasn't about him or how he wanted to strangle him. This was about her, her grief.

She was leaning against the wall. She was heaving, sobbing into one hand. For what, at that point, Harry didn't know. He could only see her from behind, the same figure he could have picked out in a lineup and if he was blind. But she seemed smaller. Withdrawn of course. Her free arm wrapped around her stomach like she was trying to hold herself together.

"Hey beautiful," he murmured softly. She sniveled, spun around. Harry was met with her face grief stricken, heartbroken, and tear soaked. But yeah, she was still as beautiful as he remembered. "Aw, kitten," he cooed gently. "C'mon s'cold outside. Let's get you--"

She threw herself against him as he approached. Her arms around his neck and she continued her sobbing against his shoulder. Sighing, he wrapped his arms wrapped around her waist and back, she fit effortlessly into his embrace even after eight or so years since he last saw her. It felt natural to hold her like this. "I know," he murmured comfortingly. "I know, kitten," he kissed the side of her head, soothingly rubbing his hand up and down her spine.

"Please don't let go of me," she cried. "I can't--"

"Shh," he hushed. "M'here. M'not letting go until you do," he promised softly. He hoped she wouldn't pull away because he wanted to take care of her the way that asshole couldn't. It didn't matter what the past was it only mattered that her sweet self could find some sort of contentment.

"Please don't leave me," she begged. "I can't do this alone."

It felt like a switch changed in him. Or maybe it was the anger he felt for her ex-boyfriend. Or perhaps a combination of missing her when he didn't really know he had been missing her and all the frustration he felt for the reasons she was so distraught. He would do anything for her. "No way, beautiful. M'not going anywhere," he assured her pressing his lips instinctively to the top of her hair. Patiently he listened to her cries, held her tightly, and lightly brought a hand to the side of her neck. He carefully pressed his fingertips against her skin, hoping that if she was aching (which he assumed every part of her was) it relieved the smallest bit of tension.

"How much did you hear?" She sniveled pulling away enough to glance into his eyes. Her face was blotchy and red, she was sure. Harry looked like he just left his modeling job for ties and cologne. She wanted to look more beautiful--so it would have at least made sense that Harry had ever decided to date her--even if it was years ago. But she was so overwhelmed with sadness, she couldn't feel anything but that and not even her horrendous look could deter her long enough to utter more than a quick apology for snotting all over him. "M'sorry. I look--"

"Shh," he hushed immediately. Harry pulled a handkerchief from his pocket--Mum was always insistent he have one when he wore a suit. Someone is always crying when you need to wear a suit and it's not to work. Carefully, he dabbed under her eyes, and swiped the fabric across her delicate cheeks. "You look beautiful," he assured her a kind, small smile made his lips curl up just enough to get the dimple in his cheek to appear. The one she had told him she was going to stick her tongue in back when they laid on a mattress that was too small for two people and resulted in a giggling tickle fight between two people who were much too old for tickle fights.

What he would have given to make her laugh now.

Harry kept one arm around her waist taking over her own job to hold herself together. "How much did you hear?" She repeated.

He shrugged, nonchalantly. "Too much, probably."

She frowned; if she could muster an emotion other than sadness and grief, she probably would have been embarrassed. "I'm sorry."

"I'm sorry. I was waiting inside, but then your uncle said y'were out here and I wanted t'see you and--"

"Do you need to leave?" She asked quickly. "I'm sorry I'm holding--"

"Kitten," he said gently pinching her chin between his fingers so she had no choice but to look in his eyes and process what he was saying. "M'staying here until y'tell me t'leave."

She sighed. For the first time in what felt like months she felt relief. "Okay."

She dragged him alongside her to the front of the receiving line. Harry felt slightly embarrassed and out of place but the rest of her family paid no attention to it. Like he was supposed to be there. She hugged and cried a lot over the next two hours. Harry handed her tissues and water.

“What if I don’t tell you to leave?” She whispered. Harry was standing so close to her that no one else could hear. Like it was just the two of them. She was sipping from a water bottle and Harry was stroking her hair back with his fingers while wiping below her eyes with a tissue.

“Then I’ll never go," his voice was quiet, like hers. He kissed her forehead softly.

"You don't have to obviously, you have no obligation... but is there any chance you were planning to be here tomorrow?" She asked.

He nodded hurriedly. "Course, kitten," he smiled gently, almost sad that she thought he wouldn't. "Niall's going t'come too. He's really sorry he couldn't make it tonight," he explained. "I have a hotel room right nearby so I can stay s'long as y'need me. Do anything y'need, too. And Niall m'sure would be happy t'help if y'need anything requiring two people, as well."

"Really?" A fresh well of tears filled her eyes and Harry's grin grew even if it was sad she was so surprised.

"Of course, beautiful. We... we want t'be here for you," he assured her.

She pressed her face against his shoulder again and sniveled against him. "I owe you a new suit," she mumbled into the fabric.

"Shh..." he hushed. "M'here," he promised. "Don't worry 'bout anything else."

His hotel room was dark when they entered. Harry didn’t want anything to happen that could be misconstrued due to her grief but she seemed adamant and sure that she wanted to spend the night. Harry was planning to sleep on the floor but instead they chatted way too much. Much later than a girl who had her mum’s funeral the following morning should have chatted. She giggled the way Harry loved and smiled despite how sad she was. Harry told her all about the last eight years, his job, his mum, their old friends and everything in between.

When he looked at the clock, his phone said it was well past one in the morning and she needed to be up early. “Think y’need t’sleep, kitten,” he was lying beside her, fully clothed except he lost the tie. He was brushing her hair away from her face watching her eyes droop.

“Mom didn’t like him,” she whispered. “She didn’t like anyone that wasn’t you,” she told him.

Harry swallowed nervously. Not because he was worried about her sentiment but because her grief was fresh and the tire tracks of where her stupid ex peeled out of the parking lot were still warm. Her mind had to be jumbled and as much as he wanted to kiss her and make promises, it wasn’t the time. Harry was older and more mature now. The way he wasn’t but wished he had been when they broke up. “After that performance, beautiful,” he sighed with a shake of his head. “M’surprised she didn’t poison him.”

“He didn’t even like her oatmeal raisin and white chocolate chip cookies,” she grumbled bitterly.

“Kitten,” he tutted. “How could you let that continue?” He joked, nudging her playfully.

She turned on her side, their faces inches apart on the same pillow. “Thank you for being here for me,” she whispered.

“There’s no where else I want t’be, beautiful,” he promised.

“I didn’t realize how much I missed you. It’s sad this is what it took.”

He leaned forward, pressed his lips to her forehead and let the kiss linger there. “Do y’want me t’sleep on the floor?”

“No,” she shook her head. “This is the first night I’ve felt tired in months. You have to stay here if you want me to sleep through the night.”

“If you’re sure,” he reached for the bedside lamp and turned it off. He didn’t want to change into different clothes or anything. He just wanted to be there for her.

“This is also your hotel room that I invited myself into," she reminded him.

He grinned at her in the dark. “You’ve always had an open invitation, t’me, kitten,” he brought her closer toward him, kissing the top of her head.

There would be about a thousand and one things to discuss after the funeral. But right then it was late, and they needed to sleep because the day was going to bring more exhaustion and sadness that was inevitable. “Did you mean it?” She whispered quietly after Harry thought she had fallen asleep.

“Mean what, beautiful?” He murmured.

“You’ll never go?”

He nodded. “Mmm,” he hummed inhaling the scent of her shampoo. “I meant it,” his words were slurred with sleep and she knew it because she had heard it in his voice hundreds of times in their time together. He was on the brink of dreaming and her mind was reeling.

“Mom wanted us to get back together,” she whispered. “For ages. She had our graduation picture on the fridge,” she explained. “When I was taking care of her these last few months and he was useless, she kept mentioning you. Told me it wasn’t too late to start over. I guess... I guess this was one way she thought she could bring us back together.”

There was no response because Harry had fallen asleep, and she was close behind. She brought the hand that held his to her lips and kissed his fingers inhaling the comforting smell of him as she finally felt like sleep.

“Your mum was the best,” he mumbled. “She brought you into this world, just for me t’find you.”

The words were lost in her mind, her throat, and her aching heart. But she liked to believe that Harry knew already because he was there, and he wasn’t planning on leaving again.

“We can start over, beautiful. M’not going anywhere,” he whispered one more time as sleep overtook her tired mind.

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libraryofgage · 9 months

Text

Good Vibrations Four

One | Two | Three

It has been a hot minute since I updated Good Vibrations hfjdksl thanks everyone for being patient with me, I just couldn't get this part written the way I wanted to for the loooongest time

There's a meme at the very end for anyone who sticks around!

As always, if you see any typos, no you didn't ;P

------

Of all the ways for Eddie's free period to go, getting cornered in the boy's bathroom by Robin Buckley was pretty damn low on the list. It's not even Robin's presence in the boy's bathroom that's throwing him off; it's the way her arms are crossed and she's glaring at Eddie like he's just bragged about kicking her puppy down the street.

Eddie pauses just inside the stall, holding the door open as the toilet struggles to flush behind him. A few seconds pass before Eddie forces himself to walk over to the sinks and wash his hands. "Buckley," he says, "to what do I owe the pleasure?"

"We need to talk, Munson," Robin says, her eyes narrowing as Eddie shuts off the faucet, grabs a few paper towels, and dries his hands. "What's your game?"

"D&D, mostly," Eddie replies, dropping the paper towels in the trash and giving Robin his full attention. He notes, briefly, that she's locked the door to the bathroom, ensuring nobody is walking in on them.

"With Steve, asshole."

Oh.

Eddie pauses, shoves his hands into his pockets, and tilts his head at her. "Still not sure what you mean," he says. He's starting to get an inkling, though.

Robin frowns, seeming to argue with herself before shoving her hands into her hair to push it out of her face. She just leaves it even frizzier and messier as she takes a deep breath. "Do you think Steve is just, like, your entertainment of the week?" she asks, placing her hands on her hips as she levels that same glare from before at him.

"What? Shit, no, of course, not," Eddie says, sliding back a step at the implication. "What the fuck, Buckley?"

She grits her teeth, takes a deep breath, and marches up to Eddie. "Listen, Munson. I know you. I know all about your little Munson Doctrine. I agreed with it once. And because of that, I know you might be thinking of getting to know all about how former King Steve is a...a...a deaf idiot so you can tell the whole fucking world about it," she hisses. "And I'm here to cut that shit off before it even starts. So, if that's your angle, Munson, I suggest you waltz your flat ass out of Steve's life before I bury you in the football field."

There's a lot to unpack there, and Eddie is going to start opening suitcases soon, but first he can't help saying, "My ass isn't flat, Buckley." Robin raises an eyebrow at him and pointedly looks in the mirror. Eddie doesn't follow her gaze, deciding he'd like to spare himself that tragedy.

When she looks back, Eddie clears his throat. "Besides, that's not...that isn't what I'm doing."

"Then what are you doing?"

Eddie looks away, squirming slightly under her gaze. If this were anyone else, if this were someone who hadn't endured the most awkward seven minutes of his life with him, Eddie wouldn't admit a thing. But because it's Robin, because he knows she'll understand even if she doesn't agree, he finds himself blurting, "I think he's cute!"

"Oh? Oh! Oooohhhh."

He can see Robin going on a whole journey over the course of one word repeated three times, and Eddie almost immediately regrets admitting anything. "You can't tell him," Eddie says, moving forward without thinking and grabbing Robin's shoulders. "I'm serious, Buckley, you can't tell Steve."

She blinks, studying his expression for a moment before humming softly. "What do you want me to do? Lie? I tell Steve everything. He'll know if I'm not telling him something," she says.

"Just say it's not your secret to tell! Because it isn't! It very much is not your secret to be sharing around."

Robin huffs and shrugs Eddie's hands off her shoulders. She leans against the sink, head tilted. "So," she says, her tone implying they're changing the subject now, "when did this little crush of yours start?"

"What do you care?"

"If I'm going to help you, Munson, I need to know."

"You're gonna help me?"

Robin grins at him. "This is my entertainment of the week."

Eddie huffs and looks away, pacing a few times from one end of the bathroom to the other before finally stopping. "Okay," he says, more psyching himself up than anything else. "Steve has always been, you know, hot. It made me so fucking angry when I realized in sophomore year since he was a jock and all. But now...now he's...more. And I'm burning up, man, I've gotta know everything. What's his music collection look like? Do the kids know he's deaf? How does he interact with people when he can't hear them? Is he comfortable closing his eyes when he kisses? Does he feel everything more because he can't hear? Wou--"

"Okay, I'm stopping you there," Robin says, her face twisted in disgust as she levels a judgmental look at Eddie. "I don't want to hear your questions about Steve and kissing or whatever else your dirty little brain is thinking of."

"You asked."

"And now I'm telling you to stop," Robin replies. She runs her fingers through her hair again, frowning slightly. "Okay, I think the most important thing here is etiquette."

"Etiquette? What, am I too rough for Steve's delicate sensibilities?"

"Oh, I'm sorry, I thought you'd like to avoid offending him the way you did the last time you spoke."

Okay. Fair. Eddie grimaces at the reminder, the image of Steve's frown and the sound of his closed-off voice forcing themselves to the front of his mind. His shoulders slump and he nods. "Yeah, I would," he says.

Robin nods once, pushes herself off the sink, and places her hands on her hips. "Let's start with some basics," she says, taking a deep breath, and Eddie finds himself wondering if he's about to get overwhelmed by these basics. "Don't talk when Steve isn't looking at you. Don't have anything in or covering your mouth when you speak. Talk a little slower and make sure you enunciate, but if you talk slow like Steve is stupid, I will punch you. If Steve asks you to repeat something, repeat it word-for-word, no matter how many times he asks. If someone addresses Steve and he doesn't notice, give him a subtle nudge. Never sneak up on Steve when he's alone. Even if it means more walking or whatever, move to a spot where he'll notice you approaching. Be expressive when you speak. Steve can't hear things like tone, so he doesn't always know when something is a joke or sarcastic. And never, ever, call Steve or anything about him bullshit."

"That last one...," Eddie says, trailing off as he frowns slightly.

"Is the most important. I'm serious, Munson."

"Okay," Eddie says, nodding once and figuring he'll leave it at that.

"Oh, and ask Steve to teach you sign language. It'll give you an excuse to see each other more often."

-----

Robin has been acting weird since she started her shift, and Steve barely manages to wait until he's 95% sure the store is empty to turn around and ask, "What's wrong?"

Her hands falter, nearly dropping the tape she's busy rewinding. She catches herself, though, and looks at Steve. "What do you mean?"

"You're not telling me something. You tell me everything. What's wrong?"

She hesitates, looking away and biting her bottom lip before sighing and looking back. "I learned a secret today, so it's not mine to tell."

"Oh," Steve says, his shoulders relaxing some. "I thought you were hiding something actually important from me."

He doesn't hear her scoff, but he sees the way her head jerks and her eyes roll when she does. "Why would I bother hiding anything from you, dingus?"

Before Steve can answer, Robin stiffens slightly as she looks over Steve's shoulder. He braces himself for the customer interaction he's about to endure, slaps on a fake smile, and turns around. "Welcome to Family Video. How ca--Eddie?" His smile softens into something genuine at seeing Eddie on the other side of the counter. "Hey, man, what's up?"

Eddie flashes a smile in return, glancing at Robin over Steve's shoulder before focusing back on him. "Hey. Just, uh, kinda had a favor to ask you," he says.

Several possibilities run through Steve's mind, all of them related to the kids, since he can't think of any other reason for Eddie to need a favor from him. "Oh," Steve says, frowning slightly in confusion. "What's the favor."

Instead of answering right away, Eddie shifts awkwardly. He looks away, tugging on a few strands of his hair like he's nervous. He starts to use them to cover his mouth, making Steve dread his inevitable request for Eddie to repeat himself, when he stops. Eddie literally freezes, his fingers twitching before he drops the strands of hair and places his hands on the counter like he needs to keep them in sight.

He takes a deep breath, and Steve is starting to get really concerned now. "Hey, Eddie, whatever it is, just ask. I won't get, like, angry or anything," he says, hoping that makes things easier.

"No, I know you won't," Eddie says, huffing softly before nodding once, more to himself than anything else. "I was, uh, thinking. I read once that sign language is, like, a thing. So, if you teach me some sign language, I'll write you a song that's all noise and vibrations."

Steve doesn't get it all at first, concentrating on Eddie's mouth and getting distracted halfway through by the thought of dragging his thumb across Eddie's bottom lip. "Could you repeat that?" he asks, steeling himself to actually pay attention this time.

Eddie doesn't complain. He just nods and repeats himself. Steve got more of it, enough to know what Eddie is asking for, but he finds himself pausing when he meets Eddie's eyes again. There's no annoyance or frustration at being asked to repeat himself. All Steve can see is patience and nervousness. Without thinking, he asks again, "Sorry, one more time please?"

And Eddie says everything again. He repeats himself word-for-word, still lacking any negative reaction to saying the same thing three times. Steve feels something warm settle behind his ribs, and he nervously licks his lips, catching the way Eddie glances down to follow the motion. He shoves his hands into his pockets, balling them into fists so he doesn't do something stupid like grab Eddie's hand. "One more time," Steve says, the words feeling breathy and soft as they brush past his lips, and he hopes he wasn't too quiet.

Eddie blinks, tilting his head slightly and glancing over Steve's shoulder again. Steve hasn't forgotten about Robin being behind him, but he figures he can just play it off as fucking with Eddie at this point. Eddie doesn't complain or ask if Steve is serious, though. He just...repeats himself, and Steve suddenly knows that Eddie would keep repeating himself until Steve got tired of asking.

"Thanks," Steve says, deciding to spare them both from continuing the loop. "I got it that time. What do you want to learn sign for?"

"A D&D campaign. Thinking of using it in the plot."

"Oh. Uh, yeah, I could teach you. Are you doing anything on Sunday?"

"Nope. Totally free. Nothing planned at all."

Steve can't help a slight grin, and he tells himself it's just because he's excited by the prospect of Eddie writing a whole song catered to how he experiences music. "Cool. Come by my place around noon."

Eddie nods once, exhaling like he's forgotten to breathe the entire time they were talking. His hands tap against the counter, drawing Steve's attention downward, and he suddenly wonders what Eddie's rings feel like. Steve forces himself to look back up before that thought can go too far.

"Will do," Eddie says once Steve is looking at him again. He flashes a smile and adds, "See you then, sweetheart."

With that, he turns on his heel and leaves, waving over his shoulder like Steve isn't trying to figure out if he read his words correctly. He watches Eddie leave, waiting for the door to close behind him before whirling around to find Robin still rewinding tapes like nothing happened. "Did he call me sweetheart?" Steve asks, needing to know if he's misunderstanding.

Robin looks up, eyebrows raised. "Don't know, dingus. I wasn't listening."

Steve barks out a laugh. "You're always listening," he points out.

She grins at him, her expression screaming trouble and that she knows something he doesn't. "Well, not that time," she replies, her grin widening as she adds, "But if I was, I'd say he did, yeah."

"He did," Steve murmurs, looking away from Robin and letting her confirmation sink in.

----------

Tag List (the tag list is completely filled up! There definitely wasn't enough room for everyone who requested a tag orz

Please follow the tag "good vibrations Steddie" or put on notifications for my blog to see when new parts are posted :D)

@hallucinatedjosten, @queenie-ofthe-void, @r0binscript, @jewellthebooknerd, @paintgonewrong, @vacantwatchers, @newagemyth, @gutterflower77, @just-a-tiny-void, @littlebluejane

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The meme for those who stuck around:

#steddie #steddie fic #good vibrations steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #robin buckley #platonic stobin #deaf steve harrington #protective robin my beloved actually #eddie thought he was soooooo smart coming up with that little deal #meanwhile robin is that “i know what you are” dog meme behind steve #my writing

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atlasofoverthinking · 2 months

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The Problem with the League of Villains

this is just me ranting after reading many people say that the lov deserved a better ending (i agree with them don't worry). most of that stuff has already been said but i'm bored and need something to write

so why is everyone disappointed?

by definition, an antagonist is someone that goes against the main character(s) and a villain is someone who does immoral and/or illegal things (wow, shocking)

so by definition, the league of villains is aptly named. shigaraki and dabi are mass murderers, toga is a killer too, and even if the others are 'less dangerous' they're all guilty of terorism and kidnapping a teenager.

not nice, right? then why would anyone would want them to have a good ending?

long story short: horikoshi made the league too sympathetic and relatable

when horikoshi has decided to make them funny, he's decided to make them likeable. that's not enough though. you can find a fictional villain funny and not root for them (for some reason the examples that comes to my mind are the disney villains. captain hook is hilarious but no one wants him to win)

the cause of everyone's disappointment is the relatable part. everyone in the league has gone through stuff viewers can relate. touya, shigaraki and toga have been abused; twice has mental health issues (and stuggling to get a job is relatable too lmao); spinner has been discriminated against... you get the idea

and even without knowing their backstory, most of the league's fights can be considered noble: they want to change society and make the world a better place. to take a more precise example, the league kidnapped bakugou because they thought he had gone through similar struggle as them

(this is mr compress talking in chapter 85) as far as i've seen, most of the fandom either think bakugou being chained and muzzled at the end of the sport festival was just comic relief or agree that it was fucked up

so yeah, you can't put a group of people rejected by society, who just want a better world and expect people to not like them

and that's why their ending is disappointing (the rest contains heavy spoilers of the last few chapters of mha)

they're all either in jail or six feet underground. we rationally could understand it, they're all criminals/villains so of course they wouldn't get a happy ending and face consequences for their actions. the only one who could have gotten away with it is shigaraki because of all the grooming/brainwashing he's gone through and maybe toga because she's a child

but if you relate to a character, you want them to get a happy ending. of course fans would want dabi to be at peace, but instead he's forced to spend his last moments being stared at by his abuser). of course fans would want shigaraki to be free from afo (but instead his only freedom was death). of course fans would want toga to be understood and cared for (but she never had that opportunity)

that's not very 'save to win' out of you horikoshi

maybe it's just a shortcut made by the fandom, but the league are seen more as victims of abuse than actual criminals. i mean, what's more important in dabi's story? the fact that he burned himself alive after overworking himself to get his abusive father's attention, or the fact that he's burned people alive? probably both, but there's more focus on the first element.

and obviously we would want abuse victims to get a happy ending

basically, their ending isn't coherent with what we've seen of them, and that's why people are disappointed

btw, the same logic applies to stain. some fans agree with stain's reasoning bc he's fighting against corruption. of course, his logic is stupid and he's delusional but he's introduced not long after we've discovered shouto's past. you can't say "one of the most popular heroes is abusing + all he wants is to get n°1 to satisfy his own ego" and then follow with "see that guy fighting against corruption? he's bad, don't do that"

the clever way to make sure no one would agree with stain would have been to make the heroes fight against injustice with good methods. i live for the fanfics in which izuku takes down the hpsc

okay i'm done ranting thanks for reading

#mha #my hero academia #bnha #boku no hero academia #bnha spoilers #mha 430 #league of villains #shigaraki tomura #mha dabi #touya todoroki #toga himiko #mr compress #spinner #twice #hero killer stain #excuse my grammar #my french ass is to lazy to make sure i haven't made mistakes #bnha critical

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letters-from-cutie · 2 months

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The Scouts as Your College Boyfriends [Headcanon]

CHARACTERS: Eren, Armin, Jean, Connie, Erwin and Levi x gn!Reader (slighty spicy at the end)

If you like to see others, please tell me. I'll try this concept again for Levi, and maybe Eren/Jean too. I apologize for some scenarios being bigger than others. I'm Brazilian so I don't know how college works in other places, so don't mind if sounds different to you. English is not my first language.

˗ˏˋ EREN YEAGER ˎˊ˗

He seeks justice in all his lifetimes. So, I see him enrolling in law to be a prosecutor. He wants to get justice for victims. However, he may switch to criminal defense as he learns more about the system and life.

Besides law, he's also interested in social studies so he may change his course for that. I can also see him wanting a political job, especially after high school. He aspired to make the world a better place. But, as he gets older, he becomes more skeptical about that.

Studies aside, he is such a cool guy to hang out with. He goes to some parties but never lets his studies aside. On the contrary of his high school years, as a college student, he is dedicated enough to get very good grades, though he barely studies, what an icon.

He meets you after he picks a fight with your ex. You just ended things with him and is trying to avoid him around campus. But, you would eventually have to go through his class corridor one day.

And of course, he is there when you do. The guy wants to talk to you so badly and paint himself as innocent, but Eren won't let that happen, as he already has enough of him, because of his problematic commentaries during class.

Eren, wanting no trouble with his professor, stays calm and ignores your ex during class. But, now, as he sees your ex trying to force you to speak with him, Eren finds a chance to finally get back to him.

He calls him off right there, in the middle of the corridor, in a humiliating but smart way. Eren also offers to escort you away from him. You, always the revengeful (rightly so), accept his companion.

So Eren throws his arms around your shoulders and looks behind him to shoot that look (yk the one) towards the guy. And so your love story begins.

Congrats, you got the hottest guy in college. That comes with ups and downs, but mainly ups. Eren is absolutely devoted to his partner, you. In theory, there's nothing you should be afraid of.

He'll do anything for you and will protect you from everything that can harm you. If you have a problem with a member of your group project, ask him to resolve it, and he'll be happy to oblige.

The downside of being with Eren is that he gets girls and boys enamored with him all the time. But he pays them no mind.

Eren would never look to anyone other than you, so he gets annoyed when someone tries to hit on him, and probably has a good comeback to it. Though he understands if you get jealous, and will take you immediately to the bathroom to prove you wrong.

Expect to hang out a lot with Mikasa and Armin, as Eren asks you to go with him on most of their outings. Their hangouts are mostly calm. The trio enjoys exploring towns and new places. Therefore, you should be prepared to always check on new locations and have different experiences with them.

You'll always have a place in Mikasa and Armin's hearts, and it makes Eren even more in love with you when he sees how much you guys get along.

Lastly, expect him to be in your dorm a lot. He loves to cuddle with you at night, and you can't say no to his cute sleepy face, desiring you to untie his hair and play with it. And it's even harder to say no to his sexy morning voice.

It sends shivers down your spine every time he wakes you up, asking you to stay for some minutes and skip the first period of classes. How can you say no to him when you know that in his arms you'll have the time of your life?

˗ˏˋ ARMIN ARLET ˎˊ˗

Many people link him to marine biology because of his interest in the ocean, which I agree with, but comes from a different perspective. I see him being more into the concept of traveling and discovering new things than anything.

I imagine him wanting a job that lets him stay put but also change settings from time to time. Biology and marine biology are great for that if you desire to study, protect, and care for wild flora or fauna.

Also, he sounds to me like a guy who enjoys brain challenges, so a scientific field is something that would keep him engaged. He will pursue education further than most people would, as he enjoys learning new things and overall the academic field.

But, this also means that he's a big nerd. He does hang out with his friends, but he prefers to stay indoors, so he is more likely to attend these types of reunions.

Mikasa and Eren are his best friends. He also has other companions, so he's not the lonely type of nerd. He's just a smart, yet introverted guy.

He's such a booklover, so it makes sense for him to get a part-time job at his university's library. Armin quickly learns about how everything works and it's the best at the job they ever had. So if you need any help finding something, go after him.

That's how you met him. You like the library for its silence and academic atmosphere that keep you focused on your studies. Armin's shifts are when you're also free to study, so you always see him when you go there, and quickly get a crush on the blondie.

He is such a cute and polite guy. Armin always greets you when you arrive and get a book, but you're kinda insecure that he is just being polite, seeing how he also treats other students.

But one day, you find yourself needing a helping hand to find your books. So you take it as a chance to talk to Armin. Though he seems rather busy, surrounded by two students you think you've seen before.

Going back to the shelves, you find yourself looking for this specific book for quite some time, that is until you feel him behind you. In Armin's hands lays the exact book that you need. Before handing it to you, he says that he needs to doublecheck it quickly, and goes to the direction his friends were.

When he hands the book to you, you find a cute post-it on the first page. It has a motivational phrase, a drawn smiley face, and a number. You can thank Mikasa and Eren later for the push they did on Armin, cause that's how you meet your boyfriend.

Armin is such a sweetheart. He always checks up on you: if you have studied for your tests if you've done your assignments on time, if you have rested after so many classes...

This is his way of taking care of you, in the middle of his own busy student life. Also, you don't need calendars anymore, baby boy remembers everything you say to him.

He takes you to study dates, where you'll spend half an hour studying, half an hour making out, then repeat. He settles his dorm with warm lights and will help you if you ask, somehow he can understand your lessons even better than you at first read.

If you're in the artistic field or an overall very different field for him, the relationship becomes such a learning experience for him. He enjoys sitting down at night with you, while you show him your project that you just ended. He looks at you with those big blue eyes.

He is so tender and shows so much admiration that takes your breath away, and you need to recollect yourself to go back to your work. Then, he will proudly take you to bed. He'll show you how much he enjoys your work. To relax you after your hard work, a great oil massage and some sexy times will follow.

˗ˏˋ JEAN KIRSCHTEIN ˎˊ˗

Jean is most of us out of high school: lost. So it is not a surprise that he chooses business or managing courses, - very common and vast fields to study on. He doesn't know where he wants to work yet.

All he knows is that he enjoys the frat lifestyle shown in movies. Ironically, at the same time, he wants a romance of books and he needs a job.

So as time passes, he finds himself enjoying HR, which he plans his career around and pushes his studies further. For me, Jean is a great leader and cares a lot for others, so HR is perfect for him. Plus he looks amazing in a suit/working outfit (mine and his words).

Like I said, he first wanted to experience the frat life. During his first semester, all he does is party, even more than Connie and Sasha together.

It's funny because all he wants is love and to have some fun, but he is too young and was created in a world that directed him to pursue a fuckboy life.

The reality is that he is anything but a fuckboy, he cannot even go to bed with someone without catching feelings. After some time, he can't sustain this lifestyle. With so many rejections and bad grades, he desires to change. He wishes to be a person he can be proud of.

That is how he finds himself pursuing mentoring classes. It may be for his own subjects, calculus, or for his writing, whatever you feel like you'd teach him in this scenario.

At first, you thought it was a prank... One of the top fuckboys of your college is wanting your help?

In the first classes, you have to reprehend him on some of his attitudes, but he always listens to what you say. The way you treat him so well makes him fall for you, no one had such patience with him before. So, he starts to do everything and anything to entice you.

Expect flowers on your doorstep. Chocolates will somehow slip into your bag when you aren't looking. And when opening the books you use with him, you'll find post-its with corny pick-up lines. It's obvious he wants you.

You confront him one day and tell him to spend his dedication on studies instead of trying to get into your pants. Jean was being truthful, but at first, you don't believe he'd change like that.

He promises you that he is changing into a better version of himself, and asks you to go out with him if he gets a full score in all his subjects. That seemed so impossible that you accepted the deal.

Jean took it as a challenge, and soon enough, you found yourself on a park date with him. After he spent so many nights studying to get good grades, he deserves some fun right? He even got an internship! And so more dates follow.

As a lover, this man is your devote, and you're his god/dess. He never hangs out without you, I mean never, so you bet you're gonna be friends with his friends too. He goes to fewer parties once he starts dating you.

Jean now prefers more intimate hangouts with you and his friends. He loves movie dates, because it's a win-win for him, as he can get some fun far from campus and keep his hands all around you with no one looking funny at him.

He is very touchy, so expect him to want proximity with you and be very clingy, but he does the most adorable pout when you deny him that you can't resist. Also, being so close to you allows him to lower his head and whisper nasty things in your ear. Meanwhile, his hands "innocently" roam your body.

The asshole knows what he is doing. But don't worry, handling all the teasing is worth it once you get alone in a secluded place and he kneels before you, to treat you good this time.

˗ˏˋ CONNIE SPRINGER ˎˊ˗

I'm not quite sure about his major per se, partially because I think he would not be that enthusiastic about it either. But s4 Connie gives me engineering vibes, especially electrical engineering.

That being said, his main interest is sports and frat life. He's an active and extroverted guy who likes to have fun as much as he can and may go parting sometimes.

He hangs out with Sasha and Jean the most, and sometimes with the other 104th too, making a big and messy group. But I assure you, he is the funniest and most unhinged one, never letting the hangouts get boring. Connie is the life of the group together with his best friend Sasha.

Eventually, he gets a part-time job, and becomes such a hard worker! This is great since he's able to learn to be more responsible and serious when needed.

He meets you at a party. You're in a corner, using your phone. You don't care for the party, but it was your friend's birthday. So, you had to be there.

This little guy didn't even know your friend, but he needed to get his mind off work and his upcoming tests. Eventually, Connie found you by yourself and decided to interact. Connie is not the type to let someone be uncomfortable around, he wants everyone to have a good time.

So he goes after you and stays because you picked his interests, and you both have the time of your life, dancing and laughing from his attics. When it gets too late, he takes you to your home and you offer your phone number in exchange to catch up, and so it begins...

Dating him is never boring. Baby likes to make you laugh, and says that it is the cutest motivation for him to wake up in the morning. He'll get out of his class a bit early to wait outside of your class, he tells you he was bored, and it's true, but he mainly missed you.

He messages you during your classes, sending memes and photos of his friends making funny faces at his teacher, but somehow he never gets caught.

Connie goes to parties with you to show you off to his friends. No one (especially Jean) believes that he got you initially, but after some time with you, they see how much compatible you two are.

If you're tired or not in the mood for going out, he sits with you in the car, blasting nostalgic and cheerful loud music, as you go around campus. Expect lots of sonography while you're walking around.

When you're in his or your dorm, he likes to tell you all about his day, while you guys cook or do some chores together. If you're cooking, expect many food fights ending with cute flour kisses and apologies from him. Connie is not a fan of chores (unlike Levi) but he enjoys spending time with you, so that's a bonus.

Also, please, remind him to study for his exams! He gets forgetful about this kinda of stuff and may get lower grades because of it, or procrastinate if he finds it boring. However, do not study with him, he will not let you, and you'll get lower grades but it may be worth it for the laughs and the flirting.

Look out, or he'll take you to the bedroom as soon as he starts to check you out so focused, so sexy for him. And I'll have to tell you; after he treats you so well, you will not want to do anything other than be lost in him.

˗ˏˋ ERWIN SMITH ˎˊ˗

Of all of them, he's the most obvious to me. First of all, he desires to get multiple degrees during his life, as a curious and cultured guy. So depending on your age difference, you may meet him during his first, second, or even third degree. He thinks about being a professor too, like his dad, but being more of an activist too.

Erwin definitely gets some work inside the university, either as a mentor or helping the faculty. Therefore, he is spending most of his time there. That's how he knows almost everyone around college, or at least most faculty members and talented students.

He is commonly seen with his friends: Levi, Hanji, Nanaba, and Mike, doing plans for hangouts with them. They can range from a simple movie night to an elaborate weekend in a cabin in the mountains.

Usually, the fun hangouts, like parks and trials are planned by Hanji. The active ones are chosen by Mike or Nanaba, such as going out to bars or playing sports. And Levi says that he never wants to go, but he is there anyway. They walk around college together alluring this "veteran" aura, very cool.

For one semester, you'll see him with your favorite professor, Mr. Smith, who you need to talk with. Erwin just stands there, looking so classy and smart that you're intimidated at first. However, as soon as your professor sees you, he introduces you to Erwin, who takes an interest in the project you're developing.

With that, you discover that he's the professor's son, while the older man just looks at you both with a strange knowing look. Erwin offers to help you, with your project, but he probably can't due to his proximity to your professor. He knows that. Erwin is just using it as an excuse to ask for your number, and it works.

Erwin is such a good boyfriend and a gentleman. He always meets you before the morning classes with a warm cup of your favorite beverage. He's such a busy person, with all the classes he is attending, work, and projects, but somehow he always makes time for his friends and you.

Also, he loves planning dates and invites you to the hangouts he has with his friends. Prepare yourself for cute museum dates, and fancy dinners after he gets his salary of the month. He likes to spoil you.

He surprises you sometimes, asking to meet in a random campus location, and surprising you with a sweet picnic under the tree. Erwin states that he's making up for his busy day ahead, and you both sit in comfortable silence, enjoying each other's company and maybe a book. That is at least until you hear Hanji's greetings from afar, followed by Levi trailing behind them with a scowl.

Sometimes, you wonder if dating Erwin is a package that comes with his friends as extra. However, be assured that at the end of the day, you'll get your alone time with him behind the sheets. Erwin will make it up to you in a way that'll make you even forget that anyone else exists other than him.

˗ˏˋ LEVI ACKERMAN ˎˊ˗

This guy doesn't even know why he's here nor how he got here in the first place. I mean, he is such a flexible character, I can see him in many degrees but for this multiple headcanon I'll stick with just three.

Levi as a teacher would be so iconic. He may pursue education because he had good teachers before and believed that they helped him take things seriously and not go to "the bad side" of life.

I see him in law pursuing it to be a judge or prosecutor too, he wants to see "rats" (his words), going to jail and will be pleased to be the one putting them there.

Since criminology fits more his persona so well, I don't think I need to discuss it that much. I'll just state that detective/forensic Levi would be the best of his generation. So it definitely an option too.

Enough of flattering him. As a student, Levi terrifies his professors, why? you ask me. He walks into class, sits down, and almost never moves an inch. He does not talk or ask questions. At the end of the term, he'll get the highest scores. He even works in a respected office already! The professors' days are counted... Ah wait that was flattering again? Oh well...

Anyway, he is the scary dog of his group, I mean like those scary little dogs, not the big ones. Levi walks with people twice his side, who together know everyone in college, but he just sticks with the three of them.

It's with them that he passes his free time. It's funny because he may sound like a hater and says that they are glued to him. But it's actually the opposite, he is the one to look after their hangouts the most.

One thing about college Levi is that he loves his coffee and tea. He knows every café in town but doesn't really enjoys the college ones, like the one you've been transferred to.

He only goes there when there is no other option, and says that the coffee is cold and the tea always tastes like toilet water. That is why your coworkers prepare you mentally for the infamous day you'll get to serve him.

The day comes, and you're alone at the counter, you don't even realize that is The guy everyone was so scared about. You quietly hand him his thing, and he goes away just as quietly, and so it becomes a routine. One day he comes with his friends, who are throwing you looks every moment or so (it's just Hanji).

Eventually, they leave. When you go to clean their tables, you see a note on it, it's a number. It's not Levi who wrote it, but Hanji. He didn't allow them to give out his number so they gave theirs. Soon enough, you start to hang out with the group.

And being part of the group means being part of Levi's heart. Your relationship starts like that, evolving from friends, to fwb to lovers. However, Levi treats you like you're his for so long, and you're dumb to not notice (his words).

Expect him to always walk you home. Look at him and you'll see him already looking back at you, then acting as if he didn't. He'll fetch you drinks and food during class recess, and he'll do so much stuff a boyfriend would do to you.

Eventually, he does become your boyfriend. Like I said, Levi already treated you like you were his before it was official, but after it, it just becomes less subtle. He will only get enough sleep when you're in bed with him. Also, your place will be spotless, he says that you can't clean but it's just an excuse for him to do something back.

Levi will stay by your side as you complain about a messed up class you had. He allows you to cry on his neatly cleaned sweater about a failed test. He'll even buy you ice cream while you ramble about your group member who didn't do their job. And like Eren, if someone else were to blame for your stress or tears, he would do something about it.

He never expects you to do something back for him. You being here for him is enough, it's his main motivation for dealing with annoying college life every day.

But if you're really into rewarding him them we will not complain if you get in his lap and be good for him too. Oh, it may even become a competition, as you both pleasure each other for hours after a tiring and busy day.

Like/Reblog if you enjoyed reading it, and Follow for more AOT content 💖

#eren yeager x reader #eren yeager x you #armin arlet x reader #armin arlet headcanons #eren yeager headcanons #jean kirschtein x reader #jean kirschtein headcanons #connie springer x reader #connie springer headcanons #erwin smith x reader #erwin smith headcanons #erwin smith x you #levi ackerman x reader #levi ackerman headcanons #levi ackerman x you #aot x reader #snk x reader #aot headcanons #snk headcanons

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sgnjimmy · 1 year

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𝓙𝓸𝓴𝓮𝓻 𝔁 𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓭𝓮𝓻

a/n: I got this idea after one chat with the lovely human @tarotsandpotions a while ago. So this been here for months 💀💀💀 but heeeeey. i know im doing the event now but recently i got the inspiration to finish this draft that was actually rotting, so idk. here it is.

warning(s): mentions of violence, bruises, and a bit of angst (it gets better).

Today was fight night.

Joker wasn't a fan of fight night, especially since he started dating you — it was bloody, tiring, and humiliating.

He always felt like a dog in a cage doing some stupid trick for crumbs. It was pathetic, and today was no different.

As soon as it ended, he went to get his pay with Wooin and saw himself making his way through the door to exit the building as fast as he could without dragging attention.

Joker first went on the route for his way home but stopped on a store to grab a bite since you were probably asleep, and he didn't want to make a fuse at home by cooking.

He took his time eating his food there and then continued to make his way home, only to start to drag his feet on every step.

It has not been long ago since you moved in with him, and he thought he was used to you by now, but something always feels off when he's getting home from a fight now.

Joker's usual routine after every fight was to buy a few drinks from a convenience store, then head home to sit on his couch while the news channel was on the TV. He would sit there in silence with all the lights off, drinking the strongest drink he could find waiting for his thoughts to get blurry and his mind to finally get silent.

But now, he has you. And you rocked his world in the most violent yet gentle way. You came into his life and changed him, but also accepted him as he is.

Joker stops his feet when he sees he's almost at his destination.

Why does it feel weird to get home now? He asks.

He moves again after a couple of minutes, each step he takes so heavy he almost wonders if the world's gravity increased.

He highly doubts so.

Joker wouldn't like to admit it, but he was afraid. Afraid that you'd wake up one day and get tired of all his disgusting and sick world.

He wouldn't blame you. From the bottom of his heart, he wouldn't. It's just reasonable that you'll eventually go away and look for something better, someone better.

It wouldn’t be hard for you, he thinks. Anyone would be lucky to fall into the coffins of your heart. Joker knows he is.

But, eventually, when you do go away, he knows he'll be devastated — crushed even. It would hurt more than any punch he ever felt.

Argh, why is he thinking about this now?

He should just enjoy it while it lasts.

Sooner than he'd like, he arrives at his front door. With his bruised hand, he reaches for his keys, and with a bit of trouble he gets the door open letting himself enter the house.

Of course, the lights are off, and Joker doesn't attempt to turn them on. He just moves forward, stopping in front of the couch to lay on it.

He feels like he should turn on the TV given old times sake… but he agrees against it. Not only for your sake, since you have work and all tomorrow but also for his fatigue.

The couch, which can't even fit him whole, suddenly feels so comfortable for him, and he notices how beat he is and how strong the punches that hit him really were.

He is about to drift off and rest when the sound of a door opening startles him. He scrunches his face from the pain when he forces his body to sit up to see what's happening.

"Baby?"

Your figure appears from the hallway. Joker sees you rubbing your eyes.

"Did I wake ya?" He closes his eyes, and his head drops on the arm of the couch. His arms give up soon later, and he's laying on the sofa once again.

"No… Well, maybe." You smile sleepy. "I don't mind."

"Are you okay?" You approach him. "Why didn't you come to bed?"

Given his lack of response, you just sit down on the little table in front of him.

"Baby." You sing in a whisper. "Does it hurt?"

Joker feels your hands tenderly touching his jaw and moving slowly to his chin.

"Nah, don' wo'ry."

"Help me get you up. Can't have you sleeping on the couch."

You try pulling his arm, but he's not bulging.

"Baby, come on."

"M tir'd."

"I know, but you can't sleep here!"

Your boyfriend grunts, and then he slowly moves his body. You help him out how you can, and he's finally on his feet. You both make your way towards the bedroom.

As soon as you show him the bed, Joker falls on it, hitting the mattress with a tumpt. Snoring fills your ears no long after.

He must be really tired. Normally, Joker would take a while to drift off.

It pains you to see him all bruised and hurt, but you know it's not up to you to change his lifestyle. You're not with him to order him around. You're with him because you accept all of him. His messes and flaws.

Picking up a blanket from the closet, you walk towards your boyfriend's sleeping figure and put it over him. You move to the other side of the bed to accommodate yourself and lay beside him underneath the covers.

Joker looks good sleeping, you think. He looks happy... Without a worry in the world, and you wish you could keep him like that all the time.

"I love you so much." You tell him, brushing his hair with your hand. "You wouldn't believe just how much."

Moving forward, you place kisses on his forehead and cheek.

Joker shifts in his sleep and you feel his arms reaching for you. They wrap around your torso and bring your frame closer to him. His breathing hits your chest.

You're not totally sure if this relationship will last if you think it through. Both of your worlds are so different, but… But you'll stand by his side as long as he wants you to. As long as he allows you to.

Because with him you feel safe and sound, because with him you want to cry and laugh.

Because with him you have this need to protect the absolute beast of a man that lays sleeping calmly above you.

Because you love him.

#wb joker #joker x reader #joker wind breaker #joker windbreaker #wind breaker x reader #windbreaker x reader #webtoon #x reader #gn reader

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kunajou · 6 months

Text

now we are one, let me love you ↳ g. satoru x g. suguru, g. satoru x reader ♡ angst, fluff ↳ tw: death, mention of a afterlife ♡ self-indulgent (I'm still trying to cope) ↳ next part ❣ Satoru goes north.

just thinking about the moment Satoru releases his final breath as his soul lets go. he can finally be at peace because he knows he's about to see you and suguru soon. he can't say that he hasn't braced himself for this moment because he has. it makes him wonder what his afterlife will be like.

will you be waiting? will it be suguru? maybe both?

regardless, he's going to make up for lost time. hold you like he's afraid he's going to lose you again. kiss you like he's missed you because he has. so fucking much. the last thought on his mind causing a smile to gradually grow as a single tear falls from his eyes.

he's going to be able to be happy again.

no sorcery, no saving others, no more loneliness. no more sleepless nights, no more nightmares.

you have more time to be able to be together.

he's always regretted the way things ended with you and how he wasn't able to save suguru from spiraling into madness. hated how he wasn't able to protect you from your untimely demise after your breakup. how his last words to suguru weren't what he truly wanted them to be.

how he wasn't able to protect the both of you from yourselves.

after losing both of you he vowed to never love again because he knew he would never feel the same way he felt for the two of you, for anyone else.

"welcome home, Satoru.”

satoru blinks, his heart doing leaps and bounds as he stands in front of the two people he fell in love with at different points in his life. his bottom lip wobbles the second he takes in your warm smile that makes your eyes crease, arms wide open for him to run into. he had hoped he would be able to see the both of you but he didn't expect the both of you to be waiting for him together. he was sure he would have to search for at least one of you but he's glad. it makes him happier to know that, even in death, you both are willing to stick by his side.

willing to be with him.

willing to still love him.

"I'm so sorry."

"It's not your fault, satoru." Your voice is gentle but firm, knowing (and hating) that he blamed himself for your death. Honestly, You had no business going on missions when your head and heart weren't in the right place. Losing your best friend, Kento, during the Shibuya incident had you spiraling but also, feeling like you were losing your grip on your life and relationship was the nail in the coffin. Your breakup took a harder toll on you mentally and everyone could see it. Yaga tried to stop you but you were too hard-headed to listen to reason. Even the higher-ups knew all of this and they still sent you to your death. If anyone was to blame, it would be them.

satoru remembers seeing your lifeless body on the table like countless others, only breaking away when shoko finally covered your corpse. feeling the curse of loving someone all over again. he went through with suguru and now you were an added casualty. you weren't supposed to be there and Satoru felt if you hadn't agreed to end things, you would have still been alive.

"You can't blame yourself for our mistakes. I chose my path, satoru." suguru says, placing a soft kiss on top of his forehead with a softer smile before pulling away. "I can't change what I've done but I've accepted it."

his mind reels remembering how he was forced to end suguru's reign of terror.

"I forgive you. You were doing what was right." the tears streamed down satoru's face as he listened to the both of you. his heart breaking for the third time as he releases a sob, feeling the way you're reaching up to rub the back of his undercut. he relaxes as much as he can but you know it's going to take some time for him to truly be okay.

"I've missed you both so much."

"Well, now we have all the time in the world," You chuckle, letting satoru step away to try to get his bearings.

"an eternity to make things right."

you both hold out your hands as he takes one of yours and one of suguru's. the tranquility washes over him in waves because he can't believe this is his afterlife, this is his serendipity. surrounded by snowfall and sweet flowers blooming around you as you lead him to his safe space.

his haven.

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starcurtain · 5 days

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I love your post so much I love how everything is backed by evidence. I wanted to ask for your opinions on ratio and aventurine's relationship (relationship in general, not necessarily in a romantic sense).

My mind keeps goes back to Aventurine and "Aventurine"'s conversation about Ratio's fake betrayal part of the plan and Aventurine says "Or maybe he wasn't acting at all?". I just keep thinking about how even though Ratio did exactly what he was supposed to do to help the plan succeed, Aventurine can't help but doubt the motives of the person that he's working with even when he does exactly what will benefit his plan. I've just been thinking that maybe it's another part of Aventurine where he can't completely trust anyone. I've seen a lot of post where people state that they had a great deal of trust in each other and that's why the plan succeeded but ignore what that line means for how Aventurine might've felt about it.

And then on Ratio's side of this, I do think he cares about Aventurine's well being but only does what he can to help him because if he tried to force Aventurine to be better, to treat himself better, it wouldn't really change Aventurine's mind on his self if it's for someone else's sake instead of his own. The little flavor text of Ratio's sticker in 2.3 mentioned how he's "just doing what a supporting character should do." which is, supporting the main character I'd think. Ratio does genuinely care for humanity so I can't think the only reason he sticks around Aventurine is "because he makes an interesting conversation partner than most."

I just can't stop thinking about how they're undoubtedly connected for another reason besides just their work, and I am just so curious about what the writers have in mind for their cooperation in the future. sorry for my trash heap ✌️ if this is too incomprehensible I understand not answering it

Okay, the full answer to this ask is over here in a separate post, since I thought it might stretch people's dashes a bit if I didn't, BUT before we get to that, there is one little thing I wanted to say and don't have room for in the other post:

You mention: Aventurine says "Or maybe he wasn't acting at all?" I just keep thinking about how even though Ratio did exactly what he was supposed to do to help the plan succeed, Aventurine can't help but doubt the motives of the person that he's working with even when he does exactly what will benefit his plan.

And while I agree that Aventurine has TRUST ISSUES stamped on his forehead, I also think that a lot of people kind of gloss over one major aspect of the scenes between Aventure and "Future" Aventurine, which is that:

Aventurine spends most of those scenes convinced he's actually talking to a manifestation of Sunday's power.

Aventurine starts off suggesting the "Future" Aventurine is a dream or psychotic hallucination.

He rejects the idea that "Future" Aventurine is actually himself at all, and asserts that this "Future" figure is a "newborn of the Harmony's power." He even has a throwaway line asking if he's about to become an Emanator of the Harmony himself. (And the Ena-Gaiathra fans rejoiced.)

Normally I would say that's all there is to this, Aventurine just not wanting to accept this ghostly version of himself and the harsh truths it keeps bringing to light.

But, throughout the entire lead up to the end of 2.1, we get weird moments where the "Future" Aventurine asks for information it should already have. A lot of these are passed off as "Well, I just want to hear you say it yourself!" but... if it's truly Aventurine himself and knows all there is to know about him, why does it need to hear the info from the real Aventurine?

Why do we continually get exchanges that strongly call into question what the "Future" Aventurine even knows?

And:

Later:

(Shouldn't it have already known?)

Repeatedly, the "Future" Aventurine says things that imply it is still learning about the real Aventurine:

Even up their very last scene together, the "Future" Aventurine was constantly pressing the real Aventurine to reveal every detail of his plan:

"Future" Aventurine goes through the cornerstone shuffle, guesses at Ratio's involvement, pushes Aventurine to reveal the broken Aventurine cornerstone, asks what tactics Aventurine intends to use to win his gamble, how the IPC fits into all of this, and finally comes to the realization that Aventurine plans to use Acheron to create "death."

We could go very deep with this and suggest all these weird "Did you or did you not know this information? Are you really me or not?" exchanges are just meant to show Aventurine's doubting nature, that his mind is a mess and that he doesn't, even at his deepest, understand himself, but I don't think the devs did this accidentally. We're being given plausible deniability on purpose.

At the very least, we players are supposed to ask ourselves: Could it be that this really is the Harmony and not Aventurine himself?

Until the very last scene, when "Future" Aventurine completely changes his tune to gentle empathy, real Aventurine is definitely convinced that he's still talking to a manifestation of Sunday's power.

Right after the line about Ratio's betrayal supposedly being real or not, Aventurine is still saying:

Or, an even clearer indicator that real Aventurine was convinced he was talking to Sunday's manipulations: The "Future" Aventurine is listed as ??? in the dialogue option all the way to the very end, when Aventurine at last accepts that he may be speaking to himself, and the name card finally changes to "Aventurine."

So, what to make of this line then:

Personally, I think there's enough dubiousness to the whole situation to suggest that we can't really take this line at face value.

Is Aventurine genuinely doubting Ratio here... or, convinced that he's still talking to the Harmony, is Aventurine scrambling to try to keep the last details of their plan out of Sunday's reach?

If after this line he's still telling "Future" Aventurine to stop stealing information from his mind, can we really expect him to be speaking truth here?

Throughout all of these scenes with "Future" Aventurine, real Aventurine continually refuses to reveal new details about his plot, forcing "Future" Aventurine to fill in the gaps. It's clear from other lines throughout the theme park scenes that Aventurine is intentionally avoiding giving away any specifics that the "Future" doesn't already know:

So to me, even though I agree that Aventurine has been made into a distrustful person by his traumatic experiences and I think he does doubt the sincerity of everyone around him...

I don't necessarily think this one line about Ratio should be held up as an example of that deep doubt.

I think there's enough suspicion cast on the "Future" Aventurine and its possible connections to the power of the Harmony that many of the things Aventurine says to it might actually be attempts to mislead and distract, so that he can carry his final gamble through without Family intervention.

And I think looking at this line about Ratio from that mindset also introduces an entirely different possibility many people seem to overlook:

Is it out of character for Aventurine to make sure the only person sacrificed in his gambles is himself?

If Aventurine really thought he was talking to a manifestation of Sunday's power, could it be that saying "Maybe Ratio wasn't acting! Maybe he really did betray me!"... wasn't doubt, but an attempt to protect his co-conspirator? To shift the blame away from Ratio and spare him from the fallout if their plan ultimately went awry? To make himself the Family's only target?

I'M JUST SAYIN'!!

Anyway, totally go read the rest of the actual answer about Aventurine and Ratio's relationship now~! It's all posted!

#honkai star rail #aventurine #dr. ratio #ratiorine #aventio #honestly I'm surprised more people haven't latched on to this idea #that Aventurine might have been trying to shift Sunday's focus #and protect Ratio from suspicion #rather than actually doubting his loyalty #I wanted to start the “Ratio did nothing wrong” club #but Aventurine beat me to it #anyway #the rest of the answer in coming in another post in just TWO MINUTES #promise!!

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itsclydebitches · 1 year

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Don't mind me, everyone, just gonna slip on my Tedependent conspiracy hat for a bit...

Okay, for real though, can we talk about how Trent's backstory in 3x06 completely re-contextualizes his dinner with Ted in 1x03? Based on my own interpretation, the implied timeline is that Trent was married to a woman, attempted to come out to her and was dismissed (perhaps in large part because they were married: what do you mean you're gay? You can't be. You love me, etc.), either having his daughter forced Trent to become more honest about what he and his family needed, or they had her in an attempt to "fix" the marriage, she gets caught in the crossfire of all this, Trent comes out again, this time his wife believes him, they divorce, are still good friends, and their daughter is happier than ever because she has two loving parents who are now living their best lives.

Given her age - 3 at the start of the series, about 6 now - that means there's a decent possibility that Trent was still married at the beginning of the show.

And that his dinner with Ted is one of the things that pushed him to try coming out again.

As his core Ted is someone who is authentic and that authenticity is what catches Trent's interest. He's dismissive of it at first, literally thinking it's a "fucking joke," only to later end up with the revelation, "You really mean that, don't you?" - that Ted honestly enjoyed spending time with him. AKA, Ted says and does what he means, even when it seems completely unbelievable. How freeing must that be to see? I'm just imagining this interview-turned-dinner through the eyes of a man who is still unhappily married, mostly closeted, and struggling to help his daughter through the stress of that dynamic. Then he meets this sunshine of a coach who is so authentically himself that it initially comes across as an act, an exaggeration, a joke. But Ted never wavers, simply refuses to be anything other than himself. Soon he's doing even more than that, breaking down gender norms by characterizing the masculine, aggressive Roy Kent as the "little girl" from A Wrinkle in Time, burdened with the responsibility of leadership. He turns what should have been the end of a horrific day of shadowing into a dinner date and Trent finds himself answering the hard-hitting questions instead of his interviewee. Ted brushes off his accusation of greed with, "Wait, I'm supposed to be getting paid?" but Trent is completely caught off guard by Ted's "What do you love?"

The textual answer is "writing" and the fun fandom answer is "you," but if this is a Trent who still hasn't fully come out yet that's! A hell! Of a question!!! A closeted, queer individual's mind is going to jump to their biggest secret and, when offered an out, they're going grasp at it, so Trent eagerly agrees with Ted's guess of "writing" the same way Colin eagerly pulls the 'This is a gay bar? Haha, my mistake' card and makes a run for the door. Reading this interaction as Trent not just being gay, but potentially being closeted and unhappily married makes it less about the journalism (this strange coach likes me and thinks I can be a good person despite my invasive career choice) and more about his sexuality. Oh, no big deal, just having an intimate dinner with another good-looking man who's questioning me on love of all things and slowly inspiring me to be the best version of myself, which would require coming out to my wife again. This is a totally normal and not at all life-changing night! I definitely don't need to run away now!!

Via this reading Trent's article feels so loaded. Ted is "out there in the community" either "bravely or stupidly facing the music." That sounds a hell of a lot like a parallel to literally coming out and facing the music of a community's potential rejection, with Ted's American background/inexperience/unique personality acting as a stand-in for sexuality; the reasons he's labeled a "wanker" before anyone actually gets to know him - as the pub trio does while those very words are narrated by Higgins.

And then we have this:

"If the Lasso way is wrong, it's hard to imagine being right.... and though I believe that Ted Lasso will fail here... I can't help but root for him."

There are other elements at play here, like the football's celebration of ego and the threat of the club being relegated, but underneath it really sounds like a still-cynical Trent wanting to see the kind of changed world that those like Ted could bring about, but not really believing that it's possible. Given his history, is he really just talking about football when it comes to "the Lasso way"? I doubt it. Trent is potentially feeling trapped at this point in time, pessimistic to the point where yes, he still thinks that Ted will fail at football and creating a more inclusive, accepting community... but even still, Trent can't help but root for him. Of course he can't. He wants what Ted is offering. He needs it.

But then, of course, Ted succeeds! Not just in doing well by the club, but by the community as a whole. He maintains that inspiration and hope until, potentially, Trent felt like he could do something about his own situation. He found the nerve and strength to try again. So he comes out to his wife, they divorce, their daughter is happy, he goes on a date with a mustached man at the local pub, ditches him to try and 'interview' Ted, blows up his career because he realizes that his job is undermining the very thing he's been rooting for and he can't not give Ted a heads up, begins shadowing Ted as he looks for something "deeper," and then comes out to Colin, gazing wistfully across the water as he imagines being able to kiss a man after a win...

I'm not saying Ted Lasso is going to go there - and I'm DEFINITELY not saying there should be ANY accusations of queer baiting if/when they don't, because we've absolutely built the majority of this ship in fandom spaces - but I AM saying that if Trent's potential intersection of his history with Ted's influence and Ted's desire to shake things up while imagining bisexual triangles actually led to something... it would be a damn well done setup!

#Ted Lasso #Ted Lasso spoilers #Tedependent #Trent Crimm

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raven-at-the-writing-desk · 4 months

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The anon who sent the malleus ask. While there are some characters in twst cast that I tolerate there is just the Octavinelle trio that I dislike significantly. There actions during book 3 just made my blood boil. Vil was also on that list but he managed to redeem himself somewhat in book 6. At least he apologised. Can't say the same for merfolk trio. I'm curious though. Despite what they were doing to everyone (especially yuu) they are still very popular within the fandom. Your thoughts?

… Which Malleus ask?? I have several in my inbox and queue 💦

I think it's important to first establish that people do not always base whether they like/dislike a character based on the morality of the actions that character made in-universe. TWST is a game with a wide variety of characters, and a game which centers on both the good and the evil that they are capable of. Some characters apologize for their actions (Riddle with his apology tart, Vil at the start of book 6, Idia mumbles a sorry at the end of book 6), others don't or may have apologized off-screen (Jamil, Leona, Azul). We shouldn't expect them all to react to their issues in the same way, and nor does lack of a formal apology mean they do not feel remorse or aren't addressing their issues on their own way. For example, while we may not see Azul utter a "sorry" to anyone, we do see him and the twins changing up the business model at the Mostro Lounge after his OB, both in terms of food/drink sales and in terms of how to get one of his well-sought-after consultations. Many of the students, the OB boys in particular, do dubious things and that was a huge part of the advertising and marketing for TWST (and still is to this day); the franchise largely pulls fans who are interested in these types of narratives.

This brings me to Octavinelle. Was what they did scummy? Yeah. Do people have a right to judge them and dislike because of what they did? Also yes. But they remain popular anyway because the wrongs they committed are not the only things defining them. You have Azul's backstory, the complex friendship-business partnership deal between the trio, the very cohesive mermaid mafia theme--and, despite all the bad they've done, you can't also help but respect and admire them for the intelligence and planning it takes to carry out the operations that they do (+ using that asset when they return to help in book 4). Running a restaurant on their own AND Azul's... other business... while also being students and participating in clubs is nothing to sneeze at. They have redeeming qualities that fans love outside of being upset at them or holding them accountable for book 3.

I think what also helps to offset the evil of their actions in book 3 is the fact that it can be argued the 225 students they suckered "opted in" (and Yuu "opted in" too, it’s not like Azul forced them to sign). They came to Azul of their own free will seeking help, and Azul provided that help. He laid out the conditions and made them VERY clear, and it was the students who agreed to his terms and signed on the dotted line. Technically Azul did nothing "legally wrong" and played by the rules (respecting client confidentiality, taking advantage of loopholes), which is why Crowley cannot intervene. And, as Leona states later in book 3, anyone who falls for Azul's schemes is dumb and only has themselves to blame for thinking there is such an easy way out to their woes. Yes, it was dirty for Azul and the twins to interfere and/or set up the conditions in their favor, but there's also a degree of responsibility on the signers to read the terms and consider where the contracts may be deficient.

My point is, people will like what they like and it doesn’t solely come down to the righteousness (or lack thereof) of the characters’ behavior. I’d also say that behaviors themselves don’t always fall into “good” or “bad” categories. Azul’s contracts themselves are technically neutral. Other times, it depends on perspective. For examples, Malleus deems his actions in book 7 "good" but to everyone else it's "bad"--and the players, looking on, have to grapple with the dual nature of it. That's a discussion for another time though, I don't want to go too out of the scope of this ask.

#twst #twisted wonderland #Azul Ashengrotto #Tweels #Octavinelle #Floyd Leech #Jade Leech #disney twisted wonderland #disney twst #book 3 spoilers #Dire Crowley #Idia Shroud #Leona Kingscholar #Riddle Rosehearts #Jamil Viper #Vil Schoenheit #Malleus Draconia

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bibibbon · 3 months

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I just read 426 officially, the todoroki family Endeavor congratulations selection sounded so forced.

"You've also been punished already... Can't you just stop now?" The f*ck? Objectively that's not true, the law hasn't punished him at all.

Many stories have cases of child abusers avoiding jail time (usually being disconnected from the family but whatever). But MHA puts a lot of effort telling the audience that Endeavor is well.. putting the effort and bearing a cross. So, when the obvious case of jail time is never brought up, the context of the dialogue sounds stupid. Especially when most of the chapter is in a jail.

Completely agree anon!!

I have said this before but i will say it again I completely hate how the todoroki family arc was handled and I wholeheartedly believe that enji todoroki shouldn't of gotten either a redemption or an atonement arc at all.

Enji todoroki doesn't actually end up getting any concequences legally speaking that is when he 100% should of gotten them. Enji should of probably ended up in jail at the end of this arc for his history with child abuse and implied marital 🍇 however that isn't the case and he is simply allowed to do whatever Scott free in a retirement home. It also seems that the public don't actually mind enji and may tolerate heck even accept him even after what he did. This probably has something to do with him stepping up and doing his job as a hero so people may of let it slide which ISNT OKAY!!

In the end all that enji receives is karma and no actual punishments at all. Sure his family leaves him but he is free to do whatever and go visit touya which in my opinion is something that he shouldn't be allowed to do.

I have already said this but my preferred route for enji is to have him never be redeemed. I would of liked for him to die as a worthless and abusive father who never got to realise that maybe he should of changed as his own actions have caught up to him in the form of his own son touya. Enjis death in the first war arc would of ended up serving many plot points justice including his and this is by:

Having there be actual pressure for heroes and anyone in the hero industry that there is no number one and that they're all in danger

Give more focus to the todorokis

Give enji what he deserved by having him taste his own medicine (dying by touyas flames would of been ironic)

Also drive the touya and shoto role because when enji dies there will probably be mixed reactions and some would glorify his last actions

Allow for characters to get more agency that was suppressed to humanise enji like the Rei and hawks

Parallel his arc with bakugo which would make bakugos redemption more impactful (if bks redemption is done right that is)

But yeah it's such a shame that a big plot point in the series ended like this and to be honest I feel bad for touya who just has to slowly suffer and die at least Shigaraki had the mercy of a quick death (I still hate both their endings and hori flopped so badly)

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be-my-ally · 8 months

Text

I Feel The Earth Move

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What d’ya mean?” You blink at him,

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Sounds great - I’m sure that’ll -“

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

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

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

“ ‘re you not coming down, baby?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“They your mama’s? I’ll replace ‘em.”

“Oh no, she doesn’t either,”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You were snoring,” You blush,

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“With your Mama?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Oh Elvis - don’t tease me.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

taglist:

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

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

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olsenmyolsen · 9 months

Text

Cabin Trip

(this gif is Wanda totally looking at Vampire Readers' fangs)

sequel to Vampire Things

master list

dark master list

Marvel AU (Vampire Female Reader X Wanda Maximoff)

Summary: Wanda and you take a trip to a lake house, but what happens when you get an unexpected four-legged guest?

Word Count: 4.3K

Content: Blood, Hydra Mentions

"Babe... do you wanna wake up?"

You smiled at the soft tenderness coming from Wanda's lips. You heard her chuckle as you shook your head and covered yourself in the blanket.

"Come on, Detka..."

She tried again while pulling the blanket down. Or trying to. Your grip on it was much stronger than Wanda's, and she always failed to remember that in training, you never use your full strength. Your enhanced ability was unfair sometimes.

But right now, to catch some extra sleep, you'd show your fangs if you had to.

To anyone else...

To Wanda, it would only turn her on.

"Hey!" Wanda exclaimed as she let go of the blanket, causing you to grin. "It would not!"

"It so would!" You replied with your morning voice before you cleared your throat and rose from the bed. "Don't lie, sweetheart. You love my fangs. Everyone knows it." You leaned forward with sleep in your eyes and lips puckered, waiting for a kiss.

Wanda gladly kissed you before pulling back. "What do you mean everyone knows?" You rubbed your eyes and pretended not to hear your girlfriend. "What time is it?"

"Y/N, what do you mean everyone knows?"

You leaned back to your end table and lifted up your phone. 7:34 am. "Wanda!" You whined, ignoring her again. "We've been dating for over a year. I thought we agreed on no wake-ups before 8!" You dropped your phone as you flopped back onto the bed. Getting comfortable.

"Y/N what-"

"You scratch and crane your neck."

Wanda looks at your laying positioned, confused. You don't have to even look at Wanda to know that's she's pursing her lip in thought, trying to come up with a lie or a reason that disproves what everyone already knows.

"Trust me, babe." You lean up onto your elbows in your grey Avengers t-shirt and smile at Wanda. "It's cute, but when you do it every time my fangs are out and... people start to notice."

Your mind briefly reminds you of the time Sam cornered you and asked you how many times you used that move on the ladies.

When you didn't know what he was talking about, he then asked if you were using some Vampire magic to make Wanda react the way she was, but once again, you looked at him with confusion, forcing him to sigh and give up.

"They do?" She questioned in a hushed tone. "They do." You replied with some amount of care, not knowing whether Wanda was hurt or not.

She wasn't.

"Well, I can't help it if my girlfriend is a smoking hot vampire!" She looks at you with big eyes and a big smile. Leaning closer and closer. Wanda knows what she's doing. "You just want me to get up, don't you?"

"Is it working?"

It was.

You sighed and leaned up all the way to kiss Wanda before planting another one and another as your lips moved further down. "This isn't why I woke you up." Wanda struggled to say. "But it's more fun. Isn't it?" You replied, cocky as ever as you drugged your left fang down her soft neck.

However, Wanda was determined. She allowed one more kiss before moving away with blushed cheeks and a smile; she got up and went to her vanity mirror. Double checking her hair and neck... no markings this time.

But you figured that would change, especially since you saw Wanda in her complete outfit.

A red sundress with a floral print pattern and white vans that you knew she was wearing because you gifted them to her.

But deep down, you knew she'd change into her birks or boots soon enough.

You got up off the bed and made your way to stand behind Wanda as she looked up at you in the mirror. "Something on your mind, or shall I read it?" You raised an eyebrow at Wanda's words.

"You know I'm not so shy anymore, Wans. Maybe I want you to read it. See what we could be doing."

Wanda bit her bottom lip before shaking her head as she looked away. She lost the battle but remained strong. She turned around and looked up at you. "We could do that now or save for later at the cabin."

Your smile quickly went away as your face grew confused. "Cabin?" Wanda nodded her head. "Cabin." She repeated. "For us?" She nodded again. "I figured it would be fun. We don't have a mission until next week."

Wanda got up from her chair before standing up onto it. Now, you looked up at her as she looked down at you with a smile. Her green eyes shining bright. "It'll be fun." You wrapped your arms around her lower back. Being very mindful of where your hands were at.

"It's near a lake. Which I know you don't like to swim, but maybe I could convince you." You tilted your head as you smiled, looking at Wanda. "Oh yeah?" She nodded. "The cabin has a hot tub..." She leaned down as you lifted your chin above her breast. "We'll be alone, and who knows.. what.. could.. happen." Wanda lightly bit your neck as her breath touched your ear.

You could feel your own heartbeat pump faster as Wanda moved her head and planted her pink lips on your own. "When do we leave?" You whispered into the small amount of room separating the two of you. "Get dressed and packed, and we'll be gone, baby."

You kissed Wanda and gave her butt a little tap before getting packed in record time.

Of course, by the time Wanda double-checked everything you packed, you were ready to go.

"You never had s'mores?"

You shook your head as Wanda grabbed a bag of marshmallows. She gave you a look and moved her hand up and down your back as she placed the fluffy treats into the cart.

It was times like these when Wanda was reminded about how much Hydra took from you. From Wanda as well, but whereas Wanda was immediately given a culture shock after joining the Avengers, you were more slow in your progress.

So when Wanda casually mentioned the first time Pietro tried to make s'mores with Steve and Sam but ended up burning the roof of his mouth, you had no idea what she meant.

It did make you sad. You weren't going to lie. Not experiencing something as simple as a s'more until your girlfriend made damn sure of it was a little embarrassing. But you knew that deep down it was alright.

Plus, the soft touch of Wanda's hand gliding itself up and down your shirt was a level of comfort no one else would ever experience.

"What else do we need?" You stopped the cart off the side and looked at the list in Wanda's hand.

According to the GPS in Wanda's car, you two were twenty minutes away from the cabin as you passed through a small town. Wanda figured the cabin she was renting wouldn't be stocked with anything, so here you two were. In a market, shopping for things like s'mores and whatever else Wanda wanted to make.

It was very domestic. Something you and Wanda never thought you would have. But now that it was here. You both couldn't imagine life without the other.

Wanda looked up at you and smiled. "I love you."

Your eyes went from the list to Wanda's green eyes. "I love you too." Your smile grew wide as you quickly gave Wanda a peck.

"Chicken." Wanda then said. Huh? "Chicken?" Wanda nodded and took the lead as she started moving the cart. "I just remembered the cabin has a grill. We can make Chicken- oh shoot, we need spices too!" Wanda then turned the corner, leaving you standing in the aisle.

Yep. You couldn't imagine your life without her.

"It's beautiful, Wanda!"

You and Wanda set the last of the grocery bags onto the kitchen counter. The place fitted the vibe of you, Wanda, perfectly. It was a two-story modern wood cabin. It had a fireplace in the sunken in living room. The place had four rooms. Making you question why Wanda would pick such a spacious place, but when you really took a look at the kitchen, you understood. Stainless steel appliances. A long kitchen island. It had a bar set up and a drink cart along a wall. It had one of those fridges where you could look inside without opening the door. As well as a bunch of other stuff you never understood.

But watching Wanda get excited as she unloaded the groceries made you smile.

You made your way to the sliding glass back door and looked out to see the fire pit and grill Wanda was talking about. You tuned your head and saw the hot tub as well. All of it was surrounded by foliage and designed beautifully with stone in the landscape. The backyard then backed up to a wooded area with a walkway down to the lake that you could see from the upstairs bedroom.

"Thank you for this." You wrapped your arms around the front of Wanda as she stopped organizing the spices. "I figured we both needed it." You nodded and kissed the side of her face. "Have I ever told you that you're the smartest Avenger?" Wanda shook her head and smiled. "Don't have to tell me something I already know." That made the two of you laugh before she turned her head and kissed you. "Let me finish here, and then we can take a walk to the lake. How does that sound?"

"Perfect."

"I can't believe how cold the water is!"

You look at Wanda in her dress, carrying her Birkenstocks with her feet covered in sand.

"No one told you to put your feet in Wans." You said with a smile, knowing you'd get a reaction. "I tripped, and you know that!" You raised your eyebrows and made a face. "So the smartest Avenger is the clumsiest?" Wanda playfully glares at you. "I could use my powers and have you above the lake in two seconds."

You nod. "Yeah, but what good is-"

You stop dead in your tracks and turned back to Wanda. "Did you hear that?" Wanda looks at you and then around the wooded area. "Hear what?" She thinks you're joking, but her smile fades when she sees your face.

You turn your body as you hear the noise again.

"Babe?" Wanda asks, but you ignore her as you tune your ears to locate where the crying is coming from. "It's this way." You point your finger in a direction off the trail. "Okay..." Wanda looks at you. "What is it?"

She starts putting her shoes back on while she thinks about how she should've grabbed her boots.

But who brings boots to the lake?

"I'm not sure what it is... but it's small and hurt." Wanda nods and puts on a determined look. "Let's go." She lets you lead the way as you step off the trail through the woods.

After a few minutes of searching, Wanda speaks up. "This would probably be easier if you could turn into a bat." You playfully roll your eyes. "That's your answer to your everything. You and Pietro's." You laugh, making your girlfriend laugh. "You know, technically, he's older than me."

You nodded. You knew.

Pietro always made a point to tell you.

Wanda was about to ask you how close you two were when you stopped.

Blood.

You smelt it in the air and closed your eyes. "It's not far." You said as you opened your eyes. Wanda grabbed your hand as you took a step forward. "Y/N." You looked back and stopped your movement. She looked from your eyes to your mouth.

The sharp intake of her breath and the crane of her neck was all you both needed to know. "Your fangs..." She whispered. "Blood?" You nodded, and Wanda nodded back before moving in front of you. Keeping her grip on your hand. "Tell me where to go."

Wanda knew that no matter how much blood there was, you'd smell it. That's not why she got in front of you. She got in front of you because she didn't want you to do something you'd regret if the blood loss was a gracious amount. She had trust in you a hundred percent, but taking chances wasn't something she wanted to do right now.

"Thanks." You said to Wanda, who reminded you that she loved you with three hand squeezes. "It's not far. Straight ahead."

You two didn't get much further when you heard the cries. They were soft and low. Like what was hurt was tired. "Oh my gosh!" Wanda let go of your hand and ran towards the scene. A small white-haired Jack Russell terrier was lying on its side as its leg was stuck in a trap. It looked like a bear trap, but it was too small, confusing you. Your eyes immediately found the blood that turned the white hair on the poor dog red.

Wanda bent down in front of the dog that yelped in surprise before wagging its tail. "It's okay. We're here to help." Wanda pouted and wore a sad face as she looked over the dog. You moved closer and bent down behind the dog near its injured leg.

"There's no collar."

You looked up at Wanda as she gently touched the dog's fur near its neck. "He's dirty, too." You nodded. "Looks like a stray." Wanda nodded and felt sorry for the dog as it cried again. "I'll hold him. You get the trap."

You listened to your girlfriend and lowered your hands down to the end of the trap. "

The lever to release the springs is gone..?"

"I can use my powers," Wanda suggested, but you shook your head and, without wasting another second, wrapped your fingers around the jaws of the trapped and pulled them down hard. Causing the trap to break in two as if it were plastic.

The dog, free from the trap, tried to jump up to run but fell as its back leg pained it too much. It cried as Wanda didn't let go of the dog. "I'm sorry." She said as she pulled it by its neck closer to her. "You're hurt. We can't let you go." She hushed the dog and made an aww noise. You smiled at the sight of your beautiful girlfriend with the dog as you smashed up the rest of the stupid trap to take with you to dispose of.

"We should go." You smiled at Wanda as she refused to let go of the dog. The two of you and your new friend found your way back to the trail and to the house without another incident.

"You're bleeding!"

Wanda sounded shocked as you returned with a beach towel. "Huh?" You looked down where Wanda was looking and found a trail of blood on your right hand, past your pinkie. You didn't remember being cut or anything on your walk back... You lifted your hand up to your nose.

"It's not mine." You said as you handed Wanda the towel. "Aww, is it this poor guys?" Wanda made an adorable face as she calmly wrapped the towel around the dog's leg.

"Any luck finding medical supplies?" Wanda asked where her attention finally came back to you.

You shook your head. "They have some things but nothing for dogs. Is there much of a difference, though?" You asked. "I mean, I'm a vampire, and I take human drugs and use sanitizing wipes."

Wanda tilted her head, not as amused as you had hoped.

"I can go to the store." You quickly corrected. Wanda nodded and smiled. "Thank you, Detka." You walked past your girlfriend and went to the kitchen island to grab her car keys. You sigh. Still flummoxed. "What kind of Veterinary Clinic is closed on Saturdays? It makes no sense."

Wanda shrugged. "I agree, but all we can do is the best we can right now. We're just lucky I ran my hand over his stomach to know that he's not chipped." You nodded, knowing she was right.

"Well, the supplies that they do have are sitting on the counter in our giant primary bathroom. You can try bathing him, and by that point, I should be back with some bandages." Wanda nodded and agreed. "Okay, I'll do that." She then looked at the dog in her arms. "Do you want a bath?" The dogs' ears perked up and looked from Wanda to you.

"I don't think he likes the B word." You said.

"Bath?" Wanda asked, completely serious, making you laugh when the dog pleaded at you to not let this happen. "Yes, Wanda. B-A-T-H."

That's when Wanda understood and made an ah noise.

"Okay, noted. Won't use that word." You laughed and leaned into the witch and gave her a kiss before looking at the white dog. "Be good. I'll be back."

Your trip to town was uneventful compared to what Wanda must've gone through when you were gone.

As you pulled up to the rental cabin, everything was normal, but once you opened the front door, you saw how much had happened.

"Babe?" You carefully called out as you walked past a trail of slightly wet paw prints coming from the upstairs hall. You lightly moved the bag of dog food around on your shoulder as your grip on the local pet store bag in your hand tightened. "Wanda?"

You knew she was here. You could smell her.

"Detka!" You used her pet name for you in hopes that she would appear, but still nothing. As you stepped into the kitchen and placed the dog supplies on the island, you looked at the living room and saw a pillow torn up with feathers everywhere. Your eyes then landed on the floor, and you saw broken glass as well as a pair of Wanda's underwear—her maroon-colored panties. A pair you loved to see on her now sat chewed up on the floor.

You had to laugh.

Usually, that would only happen because of you.

"Babe?" You called out through a chuckle. That's when your ears heard Wanda. You followed the noise, and your feet moved you to where you needed to be.

Out the back door, you saw Wanda, now dressed in sweats, chasing the dog around the fire pit with what appeared to be a small box in its mouth.

You're not sure how long Wanda and the dog had been at this, but you guessed it must've been far too long because you watched as the dog stopped its movement as a hue of red surrounded the dog.

The box in its mouth disappeared. You're unsure where it went, but it must've been important.

Your eyes remained on the dog as it was raised into the air by Wanda. She gave the dog a stern talking too that you were very familiar with before she grabbed it and started walking towards the house.

When Wanda entered, you acted as if you had just come back home. Placing the bag of dog food on the counter. "Hey, where were you? I called, and no one answered." You asked with an innocent smile. One Wanda didn't see past as she was busy holding the white-haired troublemaker.

"Outside. Chasing this one." She held the dog by its stomach out to you. You noticed its injured leg looked better, especially after the bath, but still needed to be wrapped. "I learned that dogs get hyper after a bath."

"Oh?" You question as you now held the dog while Wanda fetched the bandages. "Yep. The bat- the B-A-T-H was fine! Great even. He sat in the tub and was very nice. Shocking considering some stories I saw online." You nodded as Wanda started recounting her time in your absence.

"He was dried as best as he could be sitting on the bedroom floor, and I grabbed some clothes to change into." She gestures to her grey sweat suit that she loves so much. "And I guess I left the suitcase open because when I came out of the bathroom. He had two things in his mouth." She finishes wrapping his leg and gives the dog some pets before looking for a broom to sweep up the broken glass on the floor as you follow—dog in arms.

"One. My underwear!" She bends down and holds the pair in front of you with a flat, sad smile. "And two yo- my ring box! Box of my rings! From years ago." She stumbles over her words, not facing you in the slightest.

Wanda was probably so stressed, you think.

Wanda does her best to hide her panicked face. Choosing to sweep the floor and keep her head low as she moves on with the story.

"Anyways. I go to grab them from him, and he just takes off running. From down the stairs, he turns down this hallway. I trip over my feet, trying to chase him. I hit this frame, and it comes falling to the floor. I scare the panties out of his mouth. But he apparently liked that pillow a little too much because by the time I looked up from the broken glass, feathers were in the air. And he's gone out the back door!!" Wanda waves her hands in the air, sending feathers flying out of her dustpan.

"I'm sorry, love." You do your best to hide your smile, but Wanda sees it. "It's not funny!" A feather lands on her nose as she pouts. "I'm serious!" Wanda makes her face frown even more, and you almost fall for it until you see her crack. She smiles at you, and you two laugh. "And then what happened?" You ask, knowing damn well what happened.

"I chased him around the fit pit until I remembered about my damn powers!" Wanda emphasizes her point by using her powers to clean up the rest of the mess left by the dog in your arms. "And what about the box of rings?"

"Huh?!" Wanda turns to you with a slight panic across her face as she puts the broom and dustpan away.

"The box of rings. You said Bolt had them?"

"Oh-h.. I- wait.. Bolt?" Wanda looks at you with her head tilted in confusion. "Bolt." You said as you held up the now sleepy dog in your arms. Wanda laughs. "That's definitely not his name."

"Why not?" You whine. "According to your story, you couldn't catch him. Kinda like he.. bolted.." You lifted your eyebrows as your joke doesn't exactly land. "No." Is all she says as she finds a bowl and starts dumping his fresh kibble into it.

"Fine. What do you suggest?" You ask, to which Wanda shakes her head. "How about dog." Wanda-"

"Y/N, we can't keep it!"

You sigh in defeat.

"I know." You moved the dog up closer to Wanda's face. "But isn't he so cute?"

Wanda did her best to look away, knowing that any more contact and interaction with this dog would make her harder. But when the unarmed four-legged creature sniffed Wanda's ear and made her laugh.

It was soon over.

"Y/N.." She looked past the dog and up to your big eyes.

Wanda never would've guessed that you wanted a dog, but your thoughts were loud in this moment. She didn't have to read them. She could sense the amount of guilt that you would feel if you two left the dog. How lonely it could be. In your mind, the dog sat in a cage where you sat before the Avengers showed up.

"Detka.." Wanda reached her hand up and started petting the neck of the dog. "Taking care of a living thing is a big responsibility.. dogs need food, exercise, training." Wanda looked at the puppy dog's eyes. "And belly rubs and cuddles! And kisses between his little ears!"

The battle was over.

Wanda leaned in and kissed the dog on his little forehead and smiled with joy. "Oh gosh, he is so cute!"

"Yes, he is." You agreed to a statement you would never make about a man.

"So, thoughts?" Wanda looked up and bit her lip with a smile. "Okay, fine, we can keep him." You laughed. "I meant thoughts about a name."

"Flash?"

"No."

"White Lighting."

"No!"

"Spot?"

"But he has no spots?"

"Yes, it's ironic."

"No."

"Quicksilver?"

"Y/N!"

"Okay, sorry."

After a few more minutes of back and forth as, the dog ate his kibble and drank his water, he shook, causing a droplet of water to land into an outlet near the floor. Quick as a flash, a bolt of light came out of the socket.

"How about Sparky?"

You looked at Wanda to see if she was joking, but when she tilted her head with a smile, you agreed. "Perfect." You called Sparky over, and he did his best to trot on over to the two of you as if he had known you forever.

"Have I ever told you that you're the smartest Avenger?"

"Once or twice."

"Well, let's make sure I do it more often." Wanda leaned in and kissed you on your lips, but moved away before the fangs came out.

"We can do something about that later," Wanda spoke to you in a hushed tone as she covered Sparky's ears. The less the dog knew, the better.

Which was quite funny when you thought about it.

Because a couple of months later, when Wanda took you on another surprise trip, you accidentally found the same box Sparky had in his mouth that day at the cabin.

You didn't open it.

However, Wanda did when she got down on one knee and asked for your hand in marriage at dinner that night.

The date is set.

Pietro is bummed, Sparky is your best man.

dividers by @/benkeibear

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7waystreet · 2 months

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dirty confessions | kim taehyung

This BTS 18+ explicit series will include 7 diary entries (one from each of the bangtan boys) confessing to the dirty thoughts they have about (y/n) and the sinful sexual acts they've part taken in during their lives.

I kindly ask the reader to start with pt.1 and end with pt.7 since it's a series and will contain overlapping scenarios and characters ♡

✬ foreword pt. 1 — seokjin pt. 2 — yoongi pt. 3 — namjoon pt. 4 — hoseok pt. 5 — jimin pt. 6 — taehyung pt. 7 — jungkook

pt. 6 — taehyung

Hi diary,

I have a confession to make. Not only did I indulge in that mind blowing threesome with Jimin and his chick, but I also secretly fucked Jungkook's gf (y/n) in the butt.

It's not just lust when it comes to (y/n)... she's been my best friend for years and I've been in love with her for as long as I can remember, much before the time she began dating Jungkook. I'd never confessed my feelings to her out of the fear of losing her, and looking back, I'm thankful I never did bcuz she ended up falling for Jungkookie anyways. It took me months to finally accept I'd never have her, my heart breaking every single time I saw them together happily in love, until I forced myself to get over it.

Her happiness means the world to me.

But everything changed when (y/n) approached me with a dark cloud looming above her head during our group roller skating meetup last weekend, appearing very much unlike her usual fun self... everything changed forever.

Hobi hyung and I struggle the most while roller skating, the fear of death flashing right before my eyes when I tumbled and got ready to fall smack onto the floor. But I suddenly felt two soft arms curl around my waist and hold me up straight from slipping, her fresh sweet scent seeping into my senses confirming my best friend (y/n) had indeed saved my ass. A heat flared through my chest knowing she was so close to me and enveloping my back in her warmth, my broken heart desperately pleading she'd never let go... but just like that, she inched out of the embrace and helped turn me around, a smile perking up my lips when my eyes met her beautiful ones.

But that happiness quickly faded away after I noticed the somber look on her dulled out face.

"What's wrong?" I asked her with a deepening concern, my fear of being on skates instantly disappearing as all of my attention went straight to her, trying to understand the reason behind her sadness.

"It's Kook."

My heart dropped hearing the depressing tone in her voice bcuz I knew how much he meant to her, her joyless demeanor indicating something was seriously wrong. I asked her what'd happened but it made me feel guilty as her eyes started to flood with tears. So I suggested if she just wanted to hangout after roller skating and talk about it, to which she agreed with a nod, then slowly drifting away towards Jungkookie while he was too busy playing with others.

"I think Kook's cheating on me. He just seems so distracted lately and he barely wants to have sex... I can't help but think he's with someone else. Sorry Tae. I know this is all TMI, but I couldn't share this stuff with anyone else but you."

As much as my sore heart wanted her to shut the fuck up about her sex life with Jeon Jungkook, I knew I had to put aside my hurt feelings and be there for my best friend. I assured her the young one was probably just stressed out bcuz of the upcoming concert prep as he always wants to give his 110% for ARMY, and that's probably why he seemed distant. There was no real proof that could confirm he was cheating on her, and I didn't want to feed her anxiety any more than what the poor girl was already experiencing. I wanted her to feel better.

My tummy madly flipped around when she suddenly flung her body onto mine, making me sink back into the couch's cushion with her weight on top of me, her small face buried in my chest while I could hear her silent sobs and shudders of worry. Nothing else mattered in that moment, my arms engulfing her in a big bear hug at once and holding her tight, her makeup staining my hoodie in the prettiest way possible.

I assured (y/n) that nobody could hurt her as long as I was standing by her side, which would be for the rest of our lives. My gut wrenched when she pulled away and looked up at me with glistening eyes, sniffling her snot heavy before a smile cracked through her gorgeous lips, my own mouth reflecting a grin when she sighed out in ease after a long time of crying.

"Why do you even put up with all my bullshit?" she awkwardly chuckled, cutely wiping her tears away with the back of her palm, but she froze in place when I blurted out "That's what you do for the girl you love."

The next couple of mins are burned into my memory forever for the way they made me feel a roller coaster of emotions... mostly an overwhelming amount of regret though. (y/n) gazed into my eyes while both her hands were still on my chest, her swollen face then leaning up to mine and pressing our lips together in a soft, sizzling kiss. The way our breaths naturally synced and fastened up made us both pause with our eyes closed shut to comprehend what'd just happened, our noses slightly touching as we remained inches away from each others faces. We'd just willingly shared our first kiss together.

I wasn't sure how we'd ended up doing this now after years of being the closest of friends... everything almost feeling like a dream, but to my pleasure it wasn't. (y/n) was mine in that moment, and I was willing to do anything to make her feel happy. I did respectfully ask to check if this is really what she wanted and she confirmed she did... if (y/n) felt peace in my arms, then I was gonna give her just that.

The best part was none of this shit felt weird, not even when we'd both made our way into the safety of my bedroom, probably bcuz (y/n) and I've slept in the same bed plenty of times before, just never in a sexual way like tonight. We'd already gotten into a hot makeout within seconds, our lips struggling to stay detached while I lightly sucked on her tongue, our hands slowly exploring one another's bodies to get used to touching each other in this unashamed way. It's crazy how many emotions I'd repressed all these years, passionate emotions I felt for her that were bursting out of me when my body got on top of hers and saw her crumble underneath my touch.

Her lips quivered when my palm wrapped around her neck and added a slight pressure, her face lighting up with excitement by seeing this hidden dominant side of me in such a way, my lips grazing her shivering ones as I leaned down and asked her "Is there something you wanted to try in bed... something he didn't do that I could help you with?"

My blood set on fire when she choked out "Anal" the more I added pressure on her throat with my palm, my lips immediately crashing into hers after hearing that word, my whole being now kissing her with a raging thrill, her moans mingling with mine while we began to really get into the mood.

The key to making any girl comfortable for anal is foreplay, and although (y/n) suggested drinking alcohol to loosen ourselves up, I refused the offer as I wanted to be in my senses and live in the present without being under any kind of influence. We naturally eased into a rhythm in no time though, our bodies wildly grinding against one another to up our desires even more, my throbbing cock rubbing onto her clit through our clothes enough to make her want to tear my clothes off right then and there.

I'll never forget the shocked looked on (y/n)'s face when she looked down at my big boner pop out after she'd pulled off my sweatpants, her throat visibly taking in a big gulp at the thought of my dick entering her tight lil ass. But the worry on her face faded away the second my mouth touched her clit, the way I was going down on her melting her into sweet pudding, although her pussy tasted way better than that. (y/n)'s moans and yelps were getting me off, my eyes focused up on her face while my tongue circled her clit and sucked on it with the perfect titillating pressure, my mouth then teasing her folds and slurping up her juices already flooding out while I rubbed her clit with my thumb to keep arousing her and loosening her muscles.

It was the most intimate night of my life, the trust we both feel in each other as best friends allowing us to let go and perform such a sensitive act without worry. Just seeing her arch her back and get on all fours for me made me harden up even more, the sexy view of her fine ass right in front of me making my stomach drop while I poured a ton of lube on my cock and rubbed a little on her hole, her knees instantly shuddering at my touch. Leaning down towards her face, I kissed (y/n) and told her to communicate with me if anything hurt or felt uncomfortable and she eagerly kissed me back and smiled to finally give me the go.

Holy shit was it magical... the level of tightness in her ass something I'd never experienced before, the tip of my cock gradually inching in while I observed her moves, (y/n) whimpering and clutching the sheets in fists to get through the initial pain. I wanted to do everything possible to ease her into it so I guided my girl through the entirety of the sex, encouraging her to simultaneously touch herself the way she liked it while I stretched her butt out. My dick was fully nestled inside her hole by now, (y/n)'s fingers rubbing her clit in circles to the dirty talk I was now feeding her, praising her for how hot she was making me feel, how she was going to make me cum so hard, and how I wanted to keep fucking her all night long until she couldn't stand up or walk.

All of my fantasies were playing out one by one as I talked nasty to her and told (y/n) just how bad I wanted to ruin her, her chest shuddering while she kept touching herself and I picked up the pace of fucking her anally, my cock on cloud 9 feeling the friction of her ass against my bare skin, the need to cum approaching soon while (y/n)'s screams indicated she was nearing her end too.

My huge load of cum dripped right out of her asshole like a cream donut after I came straight into her with a breathless sigh, (y/n)'s legs clenching and her chest collapsing after she'd cum herself from the heightened combination of things. The sight was too beautiful to take in. Her legs gave out and she fell flat on the bed, her face in the mattress and body shaking as she tried to gain her severed breath, my body laying down next to her and rubbing her back to soothe her as I tried to calm down from my high myself.

(y/n) finally turned around and smiled at me, the both of us acknowledging the fact that nothing would change between us despite sharing this unforgettable experience together. Everything felt perfect.

a/n ♡

i imagined a "friends to lovers" plot for tae as it'd suit him the best over the others, knowing he's a social butterfly with many friends irl. altho this storyline has similarities to hoseok's, the motive behind the sex in both plots is diff; tae's not wishing revenge or lust like hobi. tae simply loves (y/n) but it blinds his judgement of betraying jungkook. tae is known to acting on whim irl and just doing what his heart freely desires, so the unplanned act with (y/n) doesn't come as a shocker.

— social butterfly: tae's able to establish a rapport with jimin's gf just like he is with jungkook's gf without having his own gf. he naturally possesses the quality to bond with various people, which is shown by the way he's able to hookup with both girls without any awkwardness

— eccentric persona: anal isn't the most common sexual act but it doesn't scare him when (y/n) suggests it. he's accepting of trying new things especially with his best friend, a reflection of tae's "free spirit" personality and lifestyle irl

— care giver: instead of drinking alcohol as a short cut to loosening up, he makes (y/n) feel comfortable by going down on her, easing her into things bcuz acts of service is a big part of his love language irl

#taehyung x reader #taehyung x you #taehyung x y/n #taehyung x oc #taehyung fic #taehyung au #taehyung fanfic #taehyung smut #bts fanfic #bts x reader #bts smut #방탄소년단 #dirtyconfessions #7waystreet

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