#sorry everyone your old man drawings are on hold for a bit because i have to finish some zine submissions first
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I could just post a vague drawing of a man with a walrus mustache, brush-up hairdo and grey sides. And I don't tell you if it's JJ, Price or Omniman. Maybe I don't decide who it is either. You're free to debate.
#mcives#sorry everyone your old man drawings are on hold for a bit because i have to finish some zine submissions first#since the sunshine soap folks were kind enough to invite me in as a special guest#i'm still hard at work worry not 🫡
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Secrets
Summary: You try to keep your relationship a secret!
Natasha Romanoff x Fem!R
It was fun at first.
The thrill of sneaking around, secret glances, hidden touches. It had been quite a ride to get to where you were with Natasha, and knowing how the team could be, you both wanted to keep your relationship to yourselves, at least for a little while.
One of your secret spots were the stairs. With a building so big, it was natural that everyone took the elevator. It was the perfect place to meet the redhead and more often than not, the conversation progressed into an intense make out session that left you breathless.
“Is the elevator broken?” Steve asks as you come back from one of your little escapades. You jump at his presence, your mind still thinking about the feeling of Natasha’s lips on yours.
“Uh… no. It’s working just fine. I like to take the stairs to… exercise”
“That’s a nice idea. Maybe I’ll try it one of these days” he nods.
Cap and his obliviousness, sweet old man. He has no idea you’re all flushed for reasons that have nothing to do with coming up the steps.
Still, you think nothing of it. He was probably trying to be nice when he said it was a good idea. The next day, when you’re lost in Natasha, intoxicated by her supple lips and the way they move against your own, you miss the sound of heavy footsteps and an off key whistle.
“Crap” Natasha is the first to react, breaking apart. You turn to look down, Steve taking the steps two at a time.
Fit bastard.
“Morning!” he says, too happy for your liking.
“Oh, hi, we were just…”
“We?” he echoes, and you look around. No trace of Natasha.
“I mean, me. I was just taking a break. I think I’ll go back to taking the elevator”
“You sure you’re ok?”
“Yeah, just a bit agitated. Nothing to worry, Cap”
Steve nods and smiles.
“I told everyone about your great idea. I think people will start using the stairs more”
“Oh, that’s just peachy”
Once again, he is oblivious to your actual feelings. After he’s gone, Natasha jumps from behind the staircase.
“Jesus, how did you manage to do that so quickly”
“Well, you always have to be ready for a quick escape, detka”
Natasha leans forward and pecks your lips, but before she can do anything else, you drag her back to the hallway.
“You heard Cap. Our secret spot is no longer secret”
—
So far, you haven’t found a decent replacement for the stairs, except for a supply closet. And by God, you are not that desperate.
As you cook dinner, Natasha comes up behind you, and you relax against her.
“I’ve missed you” she says against your shoulder, placing small kisses that tickle you.
“I missed you too, love”
A hand goes around your middle and she toys with the hem of your shirt, lips kissing your neck, and that sweet spot behind your earlobe that makes you shiver.
“Nat” you moan, and you don’t know if you want her to stop or keep going.
Yelena answers that for you as she steps inside, eyes widening. You draw blank, because honestly, how can you explain this?
Natasha takes matters into her own hands, literally, as she hugs you and pretends to do the Heimlich maneuver.
“She’s choking” Natasha says and Yelena scrambles around.
“Oh, my God, Y/N, please don’t die”
The redhead pretends to help you, squeezing your middle and you cough.
“I think I’m…”
Unfortunately, the blonde is too freaked out and pushes Natasha away, thinking she’s helping you.
As she presses against your sternum, you are suddenly out of breath and you swear you can feel your ribs cracking.
“Ok, I’m fine, Yelena, thanks” you break free of her hold, sure that your sides will be bruised next morning.
Yelena doesn’t let you cook anymore, so you end up with a dinner of mac and cheese, and Natasha’s sister sitting in the middle while you three watch tv.
“I’m sorry” Natasha says when her sister gets up to grab another soda.
“Just for the record, this isn’t the type of choking I had in mind”
—
“They’re gonna be here any minute” you say against Natasha’s shoulder.
“I know” she bites your neck and you sink further into her lap.
The Quinjet, out of all places is where you find some privacy. The rest of the team will join shortly, as you have a recon mission.
But you can’t keep your hands to yourself and you end up naked, straddling Natasha’s lap as she moves her fingers inside of you.
“God, you look so pretty like this” she says against your chest.
“Nat, more” you plead. It’s too much and too little at the same time. She listens, moving her hand faster and your hips match her pace.
“God. Yes” you collapse in her arms.
“Request to open gate” FRIDAY informs and you curse, because you want more than a second to catch your breath.
Sneaking around is getting old now.
“Come on, let’s get cleaned up” Natasha says, helping you up. She looks proud when your legs shake.
“Shut up” you say, which only makes her smile wider.
While the team enters the Quinjet, you go back to the bathroom with Nat as you hurriedly put your suits on.
“Red? Y/N?” Tony calls for you.
“Here” you raise your arm, feeling a bit tense. Maybe you pulled a muscle.
Stark nods your way and starts the Quinjet, while Steve goes over the plan with everyone else. You stay seated, vaguely aware that something feels different but you can’t tell what it is.
“Be careful” Natasha says when you part ways, squeezing your hand.
Your job is to keep an eye on the guards at the south gate and stop them if they are called to attack the intel team.
Which unfortunately does happen, so you run to shoot, kick and punch at every one of them.
There are two guards left, and as you reach for your gun, something incredibly unexpected happens.
Your suit opens right in the front, revealing your red lacy bra.
“What the fuck” you shout, looking down.
The guard in front of you opens his mouth, completely enthranced by your cleavage.
“New strategy?” Tony flies over, knocking him down. He sends the last man standing across the room.
“No! I don’t know what happened!”
You try to cover but the leather is not giving in.
“Ok, well. We’re done here so you can put all that” he gestures to your chest. “Back in the Quinjet”
Rolling your eyes, and with your arms crossed in front of you, you walk back to the jet.
As you lock eyes with Natasha, you finally notice how her own suit is loose on the shoulders.
You switched when you were getting dressed.
“I like this new look” Sam wiggles his eyebrows and Natasha sends a widow bite straight to his ass.
“Oops” she shrugs her shoulders as he glares.
Feeling a little better after that, you go inside and find a t-shirt to cover up.
When you leave the bathroom, everyone is silent.
“Ok, it’s not like you all haven’t seen boobs before. So get over yourselves. Except Steve, he gets a pass” you bark at them.
“I’ve seen boobs before” he tries to say but no one pays attention.
Natasha stays silent and you think she might be upset or reconsidering this whole thing.
You expect the worse as you land and she leads you back to your room.
“Nat…”
The redhead holds her finger up, taking your shirt off and sinking her face in your breasts.
“Really?”
“Mine” she grumbles, her hands squeezing possessively.
Well, at least some good came out of it.
—
The atmosphere is tense.
Clint, Wanda, Peter and you are playing Jenga.
Honestly, you are the one at a disadvantage here. With Clint’s aim and the enhanced individuals, you don’t stand a chance.
The way Natasha looks at you from across the room doesn’t help either.
It’s been a few days since you were together. Fury called her for an urgent mission and you had to resist the urge to sneak into the Quinjet and beg her to fuck you against the console.
And now, she’s back and you can’t wait for the night to wrap up so you can wrap your legs around her while she eats your…
“Gah!” Wanda screeches, knocking over the tower. “My mind, my eyes”
Crap.
“Wanda, a word?” you plead, dragging her out of the living room while Clint and Peter stare.
“You” she slaps your arm. “And you” she glares at Natasha as she approaches, pushing you both to her room.
“Sorry, we are keeping it a secret for now”
“But your thoughts are so loud” she massages her temples, clearly distraught. “I was so focused on the game and still I could hear everything, see everything”
“Sorry” you grimace. “Do you think you could… not tell anyone? For a bit”
“Oh, trust me, I’m very eager to pretend none of this happened”
“Thanks, Wanda” Natasha says and the girl nods.
“It’s nice to see you both happy. Just try to keep your thoughts to yourselves”
“We’ll try”
Wanda nods, walking out. Natasha’s quick to push you against the wall, eyes darkened by lust.
“Wanna tell me what was on your mind?”
“Can you at least wait for me to leave the hallway?!” Wanda screams from outside.
“You have ten seconds, Maximoff”
“Thanks, I hate you”
—
You figure a little distance from everyone will do you good.
So, you get tickets to a Yankees game and spend the day in the city with Natasha.
Even if you are only a half hour away from the Compound, among the sea of people, no one looks at you when you hold her hand, or share a kiss in the middle of your walk.
“This is nice” you smile, bringing her hand to your lips.
The first half of the game is slow, but you enjoy the time eating popcorn and making comments with Natasha about the score.
During the break, several people in the audience are featured in the screens. A girl chugs an entire beer while the crowd goes wild.
“Damn” you laugh, but the next image you see is you, next to Natasha.
The kiss cam.
“No, we’re fine” you wave your arms and the crowd boos. “Ok, not nice!”
“Don’t be such a baby” she smiles, pulling you closer.
“Pretty sure Steve and Bucky are watching the game back home”
“You jump, I jump” she leans forward, allowing you to decide if you wanna do this or not. As your lips meet in a short kiss, everyone starts clapping and cheering you on.
“Are you sure about what we just did?”
“Very. I’m tired of hiding. You make me happy. What’s wrong with that?” Natasha says and you smile against her lips.
“You are so getting lucky tonight”
But before you can kiss her again, both of your phones go crazy with texts from everyone on the team.
Tony: Is this why Wanda asked me for a way to erase her memory?
Sam: Now I know why you electrocuted my ass, Red!
Wanda: DONT COME NEAR ME
“Still think we made the right call?” you roll your eyes as the texts keep coming.
“Absolutely, detka” she says before kissing you softly.
Yeah. It’s gonna be ok.
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Bakusquad x Insecure! Reader
_—_—_—_—_—_—_—_—_—_—_—_—
or alternatively a reader that's just not confident bare faced
(more platonic but could be seen as romantic! more fem centric. sorry for weird formatting I wrote on my phone lol and not proof read I wrote this in less that 10 mins)
_—_—_—_—_—_—_—_—_—_—_—_—
- It was no secret that you were one of the prettiest people in class 1-A.
- You were always put together.
- having your hair clean and always wearing at least some makeup.
- it was a very very rare occurrence that you wouldn't be wearing any. practically no one had ever seen you without it.
- the closest they got was after training or villain attacks.
- one night, you, Mina, Kirishima, Jirou, Sero, Denki, and Bakugo were having a sleepover in Mina's dorm.
- It was around 12am and everyone was winding down for the night. (Bakugo is not very happy about it. but it's the weekend so they managed to convince him)
- mina handed you a makeup wipe so you could sleep barefaced.
- you politely refused.
- mina pryed a bit more, she didn't want her pretty best friend to break out!
- you laughed a bit and made a joke about how you 'look like one of those old diseased hairless cats' without makeup.
Mina - ✩
_—_—_—_—_—_—_—_—_—_—_—_—
- she's shook.
- you're literally her perfect best friend like huh?
- she'll pester you about it for a while
- and if you say that it was caused by others at your old school...
- she loses her MINDDD
- bc youre gorgeous like what?
_—_—_—_—_—_—_—_—_—_—_—_—
- she always hyped you but before but now it's extra!
- will 100% spread rumors about anyone who talks bad about you.
(and they're vileee 💀)
Kirishima - ✩
- he's so surprised
- you look like that and think you look bad??
- aggressive positivity. literally shoving it down your throat.
- hype man!!
- he hypes you up more than Bakugo at this point
- if anyone's trying to be rude to you he will immediately stop them.
- he will not hold back in training and will definitely tell other people that they aren't nice
- and you know it's bad when even Kirishima isn't nice to you. before the person knows it all of class 1-A hates them.
_—_—_—_—_—_—_—_—_—_—_—_—
Jirou - ✩
- she's so surprised!!
- you're like a goddess in her eyes
- she doesn't say much about it that night but over time she subtly hypes you up!
- just small things like 'you're hair looks nice today's or 'where did you get that shirt?'
- she's a little nervous that she'll offend you so she tries her best to not seem as blunt as normal.
- if anyone says anything bad about you (in general but especially about how you look) she goes crazy 💀
- she will not hold back during training.
- (she has gotten scolded by Aizawa for it before)
_—_—_—_—_—_—_—_—_—_—_—_—
Sero - ✩
- he has to take a moment to take in what you said
- like huh?!
- how are you insecure?
- you'll def end up having one of those deep conversations another night where he finds out everything.
- def hypes you up
- practically everytime you walk into the common room he'll tell you you're outfit is nice
- you could be dressed like Adam Sandler and he'd still eat that up
- if anyone is rude to you he'll shoot a small piece of tape onto the ground so they face plant 😭
_—_—_—_—_—_—_—_—_—_—_—_—
Denki - ✩
- he side eyes you immediately and does one of those slow head turns 💀
- he'll pester you for a bit about it but after Bakugo slapps him over the head because he wants to sleep he drops it for the night
- BIGGEST HYPE MANNN
- hypes you up about everything, your handwriting, cooking, baking, drawing, grades, quirk, strength, everything.
- if anyone's every rude he will 100% give the person small shocks.
- especially in quiet rooms.
_—_—_—_—_—_—_—_—_—_—_—_—
Bakugo - ✩
- even though he might be bad at showing it, he didn't want his friend to break out either!
- but he hid it behind him not wanting to hear you complain about your skin
- won't hype you up but once he sees you with out makeup he'd definitely do a really sarcastic fake shock
- like 'gasp oh my god-! you- you- look perfectly fucking fine. say some dumbass shit like that again and I'm beating your ass.'
- will immediately scream insults at whoever talks about about you
- it could literally be a medical professional next to you on your death bed saying that you over estimated yourself in a fight and he'd still do it
_—_—_—_—_—_—_—_—_—_—_—_—
#mha headcanons#bakusquad#bakusquad x reader#denki kaminari x reader#bakugo katuski x reader#sero hanta x reader#kirishima ejiro x reader#jirou kyouka x reader#jirou kyouka#mina ashido x reader#mha fanfiction#mha fanfic#mha x female reader#mha x gender neutral reader
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Alright, but Bruce Wayne with 'Meet Cute' and 'Tragic Love Story' combined? I personally need to get this idea off my chest, so enjoy.
Due to his strained sleep schedule and social life, Bruce would occasionally need a pick-me-up
There was this one Cafe that he enjoyed due to how strong they were able to make the coffee compared to other shops in the city
Normally he would walk in and the employees would start working on his order before he even got to the counter
One day, he was grabbing his cup from the counter when he noticed something unusual on the sleeve of the cup
Holding the cup closer to his face, he takes in the sight of a multicolor butterfly that was 'flying' across the cup sleeve
He turned to the manager with a raised brow, to which the manager looks over at one of the employees at the other end of the counter with an annoyed gaze
Bruce turns his gaze to see you standing there with a handful of sharpies in your apron pocket as you look at both men with a shrug
"I got bored."
Your manager began to give a small lecture on the fact you were getting paid to do a job and doodling wasn't apart of that job
You made a face, which Bruce found slightly amusing, to your manager with crossed arms
"I come in to prep at 3 a.m. for 6 days every week, by myself might I add. I do the work that is supposed to be divided to be done by 3 people. I have to fight you to get 15 minutes out of my hour long lunch. I'm sorry you don't like that I don't actively search for more work to do when I'm already doing more than my 10 dollar an hour pay grade. If you don't like it, fire me. But don't forget that I can sue you for sexual harassment because I'm certain you forgot that the owner put had cameras installed in the freezer to safe guard the minors who work here."
Bruce felt shocked as he glared over at the manager, who was suddenly very quiet and very flustered at your words
Before Bruce was able to tear into this poor excuse of a man, a woman in a formal suit came out of the backroom with fire in her eyes
You smiled as you look from your manager to this woman, who Bruce was assuming to be the previously mentioned owner, asking oh so sweetly if you could go to your break
Bruce watched you walk out the door with a strange curiosity blooming in his mind. Despite having never paid much attention to you beforehand, but now he was wondering what more there was to you
The next couple of weeks, Bruce found himself coming to the Cafe more often in the mornings to interact with you more and to see more of your doodles on his morning coffee cup
He was even subconsciously going to the block on his patrols to make sure you were getting into the shop alright on the days when you opened alone
Eventually, the habits were beginning to get noticed by everyone around him. Tim and Damian noticed he was a bit more cheerful in the mornings when they were taken to school. Jason realized the determination that Bruce put in at 2:57 every night on one block specifically. They were all clueless until Dick, Cass, and Stephanie started rummaging through his office and found the original cup sleeve placed in the back of one of his desk drawers
The next day when Bruce was going to be busy with a meeting with a few shareholders, Dick and Barbara came walking into the Cafe with huge grins on their faces
When they made their way to the front of the line and ordered, they excitedly asked for the barista that was drawing the cup sleeves
When they were pointed to your direction, they went over and started to explain that Bruce had found you interesting and they thought he would want to get to know you better if he could
Barbara pulled up a picture of Bruce in case you didn't quiet remember him. But you smile with a small nod saying the you remembered him from the incident with the old manager
Dick got even more excited as he asked if you would be willing to maybe, potentially, want to go out with Bruce for a date because they bet that he found you cute and was scared to get rejected
Later that day when Bruce had finally gotten home, Dick and Barbara were waiting by the door as they practically were jumping in their spots
They held out a coffee cup to Bruce, which made him feel anxious that they had found out about his small infatuation
He took the cup to see a small drawing of a ticket with a box of popcorn. He saw your name with a phone number with a a simple question. 'Movie on Tuesday?'
Bruce doesn't have time to scold or thank them before they ran off in the manor
He went to his office, closing and locking the door before taking out his phone to send you a quick message about what you might want to watch
He began to think it might have been a bad idea as he started to type that he had the wrong number when he saw a response suddenly pop up
You had confirmed the movie and time that might work with both of your schedules to go watch it
Bruce quickly double checked his schedule before confirming that it worked out for him and suggested to meet up there, he wanted you to feel like you could leave if you ever wanted to during the whole thing
As the day came closer, Bruce felt concerned for the date and if it would be best to back out and spare potential heart ache down the road
But he fought down his worries as he dressed down in casual clothing so he wouldn't be noticed
After getting a pep talk from almost every one of the Bat children, Bruce finally drove to the theater with a few minutes before the meet up time
He was slightly shocked to see you actually standing in front and waiting for him out front in your own style of formally casual clothes
He got out of the car and walked up to you with a slightly awkward confidence with his greeting. The man may have the ability to charm almost any person on a whim, but it was different this time. This time, he was genuinely interested in the person in front of him
The smile you gave Bruce when he walks up warms his heart in a way he hadn't felt in some time
He paid for the tickets and tried to pay for the snacks, but you insisted that you didn't want him to pay for the whole thing
"It's just popcorn and drinks. I've got it this time."
This time. The words had Bruce feeling hopeful for the next date even though this one wasn't even over
Getting settled into the seats, you two delve into light conversation, the occasional laugh slipping in
By the time the lights went down for the movie to start, Bruce had already considered this to be a successful date with how much he felt you two had bonded
The theater was quiet as the movie played, the screen casting a soft glow over all the faces there
Bruce had felt himself truly relaxing for the first time in so long as he sat next to you in the partially full theater
He almost jumped when he felt you suddenly lean into his side halfway through the movie
But he relax before moving his arm around your shoulders as he glanced over to see if it was alright
The small smile on your face as you leaned closer to Bruce made a small flutter to form in his stomach
When the movie came to an end, Bruce kept his arm around your shoulders as everyone walked out into the parking lot
There was small talk about thoughts on the movie before the goodbyes had to be said for the night
He was questioning himself on if a hug would be the best to do or if that would be too forward
You beat him to it as you gave him a small peck to him cheek before saying you would text him to let him know you got home safe
Bruce couldn't help but smile as he drove back to the manor. Completely forgetting about the small army of children that would interrogate him the moment the door opened
He got bombarded with different types of questions from 'did you have a good time', 'what are they like', 'are you going out again soon'
Damian mostly just listened while standing there before he asked if there was a photo of his father's potential consort. Dick says he's got one to show him later
(Bruce makes a mental note to talk to the Damian about appropriate terms to use in relationships and to get the photo Dick has)
Bruce quickly told all of them to go and get ready for patrol as he pushed his way past the entryway
All the children smiled to themselves as the began to go to the Batcave to get their gear together with the intention of getting more information later
Bruce took a moment to breath before feeling his phone vibrate in his pocket. Checking it to see that you had messaged him when you got home and couldn't wait until next time
"This one must be special if you smile at a message."
Bruce looked up at Alfred when he heard that comment, not even realizing he was smiling
Alfred had a soft look in his eyes as he gave a simple nod before walking away for Brice to be alone
Bruce typed a quick message in agreement of meeting up again sometime soon before putting his phone away to get ready for the night ahead
The next few months (yes, months because he wants to be cautious with this relationship), Bruce had tried to make plans at least once every week for dates
Each time the two of you spent time together, he couldn't deny the feeling that he got when being around you. You never tired to bring his money into it and never pushed for the pace to go faster over the course of the whole thing
He even asked if you could be official with each other relationship wise, though not entirely out on the public eye if you didn't feel comfortable with all the sudden attention, which you happily agreed to
He had finally asked if you would want to come to the manor one day to properly meet all the kids, who were all eager to get to meet you
You both agreed on a day and time to have dinner later that same week he suggested it
The night of the whole dinner, Bruce and the kids helped Alfred get the manor cleaned and even assisted in the cooking
They were all excitedly waiting in the living room dressed in their best clothes for the occasion as the time for you to get there getting closer
As the minutes went by, everyone starts to get anxious as there wasn't anoise coming from outside the door
The moment the hour struck, everyone was on edge for the knock on the front door to come at any moment
(If you don't
Alternative Ending
Stephanie and Barbara were trying to be hopeful by saying maybe you just had to change outfits from a last minute stain accident
Tim and Dick were saying that a family thing could have come up and maybe you were trying to get it handled before coming over
Damian had a hopeful tone as he stated that there was most likely traffic and you were just caught in the middle of it (he was really hopeful about his father finding a good partner)
Bruce gave a small smile to all of them before he decided to send you a quick text to ask if everything was alright and if you needed to reschedule for another day
Jason gave a small grunt before grabbing the remote. Turning on the TV as he said that Damian was right and the traffic news would prove it
Flipping through the channels, he finally got to the news channel. And dear God, did Jason wish he could take that decision back
Every one stared in silence as the lights flashed on the screen as they took in the sight of a terrible car crash
A reporter talked about the fact a drunk driver had blown through a 4 way stop and had hit the victim's car that was sadly just at the wrong place
The reporter had said that no name was being given about the victim so family could be informed first and make the proper medical decisions
No name had to be given though as the kid's saw the look on Bruce's face
He didn't need to be there to see that it was your car. He didn't need to get a look at the license plate to tell. He could tell just by the small little decal you had on the back window
Jason quickly turned the TV back off as they all nervously look over at Bruce as he continued to stare at the black screen
No words were said as they each moved closer to, but not touching, Bruce to show their support to him as he slowly processed the whole thing
The sound of his phone going off finally broke the fragile silence of the room. Bruce cleared his throat as he quickly picked up the phone, his hand shaking when he saw your name appear on the screen
He answered with a weak voice before he heard the woman's voice on the other line
The woman said she was your mother and slowly asked if Bruce had seen the news report. He could tell she had been crying even through the phone
She hesitated before explaining that it wasn't good and that the doctors said that after a few tests, it was declared that you were legally brain dead
Your mother chocked for a second before saying that she wanted to give Bruce a chance to say goodbye before the next steps were being taken
Bruce took a moment before saying that he would be there within the hour before hanging up the phone
He just sat there for a second as the silence blanketed the room once again
Alfred placed a hand on Bruce's shoulder before saying that he would drive to the hospital for Bruce
All the kids shared glances before getting up and going to pack away the dinner to give Bruce a minute
Bruce stood up before going to the door as Alfred followed close behind. The ride was silent as Alfred guided through the streets, intently going the long way to avoid the crash site
Bruce walked through the door before going to the reception desk to ask what room you were placed in
After getting directed to what room you were in, he saw a woman standing outside as she talked to a doctor. The woman turned her head and stopped the doctor before ushering him over
The doctor hesitantly walked away as your mother politely introduced herself before explaining the severity of the situation. That even with life support, you would probably not even survive one week with how you got hit
She said that you had talked so happily about the relationship the two of you had and believed that Bruce deserved to have his own goodbye
Bruce felt the words catch in his throat as he hesitants to ask if you would be left on life support or not
Your mom quickly explains the plan you had made for a situation like this before she glances at the room you were in. She offered to let him have the final goodbye in peace
Bruce gives a small nod as he gave her a small hug as he expressed how sorry that this had to be how they had met one another
The moment Bruce steps through the door, he feels the tears form in his eyes as he takes the sight of you laying there, basically lifeless on the bed
He walks over to the bed as his hand reaches out to touch yours
He just stands there for a minute as he stares at your face. His other hand coming up to gently brush his fingers over your cheek
He knows that there nothing he could do to potentially help make you recover. He understood this was going to be the last time that he was every going to get to lay his eyes on you
Bruce leaned down to rest his head on yours as he took a deep breath. Closing his eyes as the words finally seemed to come to him:
"I am so glad that I got to know you for the time that I did. Best thing you ever did for me was drawing on the first coffee sleeve. I'm gonna miss you and I... I love you."
He placed a soft kiss on your forehead before he pulled away. A sad smile gracing his face before walking back out of the room
He wrote his number and address on a small card before telling her that she could come to him if she needed any help
She had a weak smiled as she thanked him before giving him another small hug as she says to make him aware of all the things regarding the funeral and the burial spot
The ride back is just as quiet as the drive to the hospital. Alfred only giving a small glance towards Bruce as they drove up the driveway
Bruce walked through the door to find Dick standing there with a solemn look in his eyes. He tells Bruce that he can take the night to process everything and that he will handle the patrol
Bruce gives a weak nod as he walks through the manor and to his room so he could hopefully get some form of rest
No one had went to check on him to give him a chance to be alone with his thoughts for the night
Bruce just laid on the bed as he replayed all the moments that he had with you. A sad chuckle passing his lip before he decided to get some sleep
The next couple of weeks involved Bruce going to the funeral and going to the cemetery to put a small keepsake there to leave a part of himself there at all times with you
One day when he got back from work, Bruce was about to go to his office to sort out a few case files that he would be needing
There was a package on the desk the moment that he had walked in. He was concerned about what might potentially be in it before he saw your mother's name as the return address
Bruce carefully opened the package to see a picture frame that was carefully wrapped in some bubble wrap
He took out the frame and removed the bubble wrap to find a picture of you smiling at the camera as you jokingly point to Bruce who was behind you in the photo talking to someone off camera
Bruce remembered the day that photo was taken. It was your fourth date at the park and he was buying a snack from one of the vendors
He didn't know you had even taken any pictures that day. He stared at it for a moment before noticing a small note in the box the photo came in
He picked it up to see a small note from your mom
'I asked for a picture of the man that was making my child so happy. This was the one I was sent as I was told that he could be the one. I thought you would want it.'
Bruce stared at card for a second before a grin ghosted his lips. Setting the photo on the corner of the desk, he tucked the card in the corner
Sitting down in his chair, Bruce just admire it for a moment as he took a deep breath. Staring for a moment before getting the files that he needed together
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Complaints Procedure
MASTERLIST
Roy Kent x F!Reader
Literally just 1.5k of pure filth. Sorry, not sorry?! 😅Taken from this prompt.
Inspired by this image:
~~~~~
You knew to avoid the locker room immediately before and after matches. The less than stellar performance of the team during the season had seemingly made everyone angry - even Sam was down. Jamie Tartt continued to annoy and degrade everyone who so much as glanced at him, and the so-called Captain looked about ready to throw in the towel. Getting rid of George Cartrick may have been a wise decision, but his replacement was certainly unorthodox. You had your work cut out for you in HR, it was like babysitting 2 year olds - they all still bit, kicked, and scratched. Seeing you always gave them the initiative to put complaints in, complaints that you had to be seen to legitimately deal with, even if dealing with it meant sitting the idiots involved down and giving them a telling off. You had never told off Roy Kent, though. The man terrified and turned you on in equal measure.
Just the low timbre of his voice made your heart pound and flooded your body with want. Training was long over, so you figured you were safe to take some paperwork down to Ted Lasso's office. Your heels clicked on the concrete as you made your way through the maze of rooms. Wage slips for the folks in the ticket office, holiday forms for the staff in the medical and treatment areas, and the weekly update on player relations that Ted had asked you to draft. Who was fighting with who, who had you had to threaten with suspension, and who you'd just had to give an arse kicking to. As you turn to leave Ted’s office, Roy is coming back in from the showers. With just a towel gripped in his hand. You look literally anywhere else. The ceiling tiles become particularly interesting.
"Oi, what you doing in here?"
"Just dropping some paperwork off, no need to be rude."
"Sorry, just… thought I was alone, that's all." You drag your eyes from the ceiling to his, drawing an invisible line across his nose so you do not look any lower. "See something you like?" He teases, as if he knows it's taking all your will to not look at his chest or the towel.
"Definitely not. I'm done now, I'll leave you to it."
You're sure you must hold your breath on the walk from the locker room to your office because as soon as you shut the door, it all comes out in a whoooosh. As good-looking as he is, you can't stand his arrogance, dominance, and anger issues. You knew it was nothing new in football or in work at all, really. You'd seen every layer of the food chain, and it was always the top of the tree who thought they were gods gift. You knew he could be kind and thoughtful. You'd seen it for yourself with the younger, less experienced players and with fans too. It was definitely a certain calibre of person who set him off - the Jamie Tartts and George Cartricks of the world. You're still leaning against your office door when you feel and hear it knock. When it begins to open against your back, you have to jump out of the way so it can swing open. Fully clothed, Roy is on the other side.
"Do I scare you?" He asked, frowning.
"Course you don't scare me, I'm not a sodding child." You roll your eyes. "Did you need something?"
"I might need to put in a complaint." You arch an eyebrow at him,
"Really? Go on?" He took a step closer to you, so you take a step back.
"I saw the way you looked at me downstairs -" you scoffed,
"I did not look at you at all. I actively didn't look at you," you start, angry until you see the smirk. "Oh fuck off, did you come up here just for a laugh? I've got enough to deal with picking up
after Jamie Tartt since he can't stop making everyone miserable." He holds up his hands in surrender.
"Alright, alright, just a joke," he laughs a little. "You wanted to look though."
"You are just like the other idiots. So full of your own self importance, you all think everyone wants you." He narrows his eyes and takes another step towards you.
"At the risk of sounding like any of those pricks, tell me you don't?"
"What makes you think-"
"Humour me." He looks at you like he might devour you at any moment, his eyes dark with just a hint of mirth. He knows what you think about when you see him. You feel your breath quicken, and the urge to press your thighs together is desperate, but you don't want to give him the satisfaction of being right. Before he can catch you in a lie, he forces you to take one final step back against your desk and leans down to capture your mouth in a messy, obscene kiss.
The shock of it makes you gasp, giving him access to deepen the kiss. Your hands grip at his shoulders to keep him close, trying to get him even closer if it's possible. He leans you back against your desk, the edge of it digging into the back of your thighs while his hands are trying to touch as much of you as possible. By leaning back on the desk, he can kiss along your jawline. It would be impossible now to make out that you don't want him, your greedy hands roam up his arms and into his hair and the sighs and moans he's pulling from you with just a kiss are insane. The length of his body presses against the length of yours and you feel him hard against your hip. Feeling how much he wants you only makes you need him more. Your hand brushes across the front of his jeans, making him jerk to meet it. He breaks the kiss and watches you breathlessly as you move to undo the button in the waistband. You can tell he's about to ask if you're sure, so you place a soft kiss to his lips,
"I want you to fuck me," you tell him quietly. There is still just a hint of hesitation in your voice, but it's more a fear that he'll reject you than anything else.
"Fucking hell." He sighs into you. He grips your hips and turns you to face the desk, you rest on your forearms. He has your skirt rucked up around your waist in no time at all and nudges your feet a little further apart. You don't have the time or inclination to feel embarrassed or to consider something more meaningful. The singular thought in your mind is having him inside you. You hear the tear of a condom wrapper and feel him at your core. His hand cups you first, wanting to check that you're ready. "You're so fucking wet," he mutters almost proudly. He gives your hip a little squeeze of warning and pushes inside you.
"God, Roy yesss," you hiss as he fills you completely. Fully seated, he pauses just a minute to reach down and sweep your hair to one side so he can kiss your neck, "please, Roy-" you push back against him, desperate for more. He takes the hint and pounds into you over and over. He’s hitting exactly where you need him with each thrust, and it's enough to have you believing in some sort of deity. You can feel the pressure building and you're so close to the edge it's overwhelming. "I'm so close, please daddy-" the words tumble from you, unfiltered and unexpectedly - that is a brand new one for you, and when you feel his pace slow just slightly, you're terrified that you've repelled him. He moans low in his chest and redoubles his efforts, unyielding, until you come hard, crying out his name.
"Say it again," he whispers against your ear, his body draped over your back. His hand reaches around to rub circles over your clit and you're so sensitive that the payback is almost immediate and you can feel another orgasm building.
"Fuck, make me come again daddy," you beg. He does exactly that within seconds of you asking, his own release coming at the same time. He holds your hips while your legs shake, his forehead resting on the center of your back. He slips out of you and disposes of the condom before turning you gently to rest you back against the desk. You keep your head down, chin to chest, mortified at what's just happened until his nose nudges against yours and he kisses you softly.
"Holy fucking shit, I should threaten to complain again, that was insane," he breathes, still holding your hips and trying to get you to look up at him.
"I shouldn’t ha-"
"No, don't do that. You're definitely going to say it again," he chuckles against you, "I fucking promise you'll say it again."
FIN
#roy kent#roy kent x reader#roy kent imagine#roy kent fanfiction#roy kent smut#roy kent fic#roy kent fluff#roy kent x you#ted lasso#ted lasso fanfiction#ted lasso fic#rail me roy kent#pure filth#this is literally just sex
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Unspoken Words.
I’m trying out a new format for my posts so don’t mind me~
Summary- When Azul focuses too much on work than you, it doesn’t go well. Will he chose work or his significant other..?
Tw: Reader being sad, Azul crying, yes there’s a fucking child
Tags: Gn Reader x Azul Ashengrotto, Gn reader, Yes you are the prefect, Azul being a silly himbo/hj, happy ending, gn child, you can imagine yourself with the kid being biological or adopted, whatever you choose
Enjoy you poor unfortunate souls…
“Azul?” You called out into his study looking for your love
“I am very busy right now. What do you want?” He said, not looking up from his contracts
“They’re…they’re in bed, you don’t need to worry about them but, when will you come to bed?”
He voice displays no emotion as he continues on working
“Not right now. Later.”
You bite your lip and grip the door handle tighter. You wanted him to come back to sleep by your side. But work always was first place in his life rather than anyone or anything else.
“Azul…I…” You look up with a tiny piece of hope that he would look at you but to no avail. “Nevermind…I love you Azzy…” You don’t hear a response back but rather a pen scratching the paper.
Sighing softly, you head to the cold room hurt.
You lie down on the bed, underneath the blankets but yet, you’re still cold.
Taking your pillow, you hold it and just let your tears leak down.
Azul was a smart man. Yes, he overblotted because of various things…but he’s a smart man.
He managed to get his business far and profitable. He’s successful. The Maestro cafe being much further than he’d ever imagined.
Azul has a family and a successful life…
Yes, his family wants to spend time with him but he’s trying to keep everything together so he can grow his business and provide for them.
But…he doesn’t know why his heart feels like it’s yearning for something…
Like he’s doing something wrong, but what is it?
He ends up dozing off in the end.
“Daddy.”
Jade, Floyd, Azul and you are startled by the small child that just walked into Maestro cafe and hugged Floyd’s leg
“Floyd?! We literally took a class in biology to use prote-“
“Let’s not say that in front of the kid!” You cut Azul off
He picks up the child, expecting them to cry
“Ooh~! I could squeeze you to death little guppy!”
“Floyd! You’re going to scare-“
Instead of crying or screaming, the guppy laughs and puts their hands on Floyd’s cheeks
You put the cleaning cloth into the back of your pocket while you and Jade laugh at both of them
“Aww~! Can we keep it Jade? Azul?”
“I think we should since we need more helpers~”
“Cut it out you two, we don’t even know who’s it is!”
“You shouldn’t call a child an it…” You told your friend
Once the youngest hears you speak, they look at you and make grabby hands
And then they call out to you using their name for you
And everyone looks absolutely shocked
“I’m sorry, what.”
“Little shrimpy has a guppy?!”
“Oh great seven, you didn’t tell us this~”
Floyd happily hands the child to you and instantly, they laugh in your arms
“This baby isn’t mine! I swear on my life you three!”
And the twins start to draw closer to you as Azul looks terrified in the back
Until—
“Papa!” The 5 year old reaches to touch Jade’s cheeks
“Jade, Floyd, [Name]! Did you three have one child altogether or something behind my back?!”
“No!” “Perhaps!”
And it happens all over again…
When you four tell Crowley about it, he tells you to deal with it yourself in a paraphrased term until the baby bit his arm
He then says to keep it in Ramshackle or Octavinelle, which to keep Grim from complaining or arguing with the child, you all decided to keep them in Octavinelle
When you asked Lilia about it, he said that the baby was somehow sent to the past and that he was able to get it back at the end of the week
You silently celebrated in your confusion towards the young child. It was Monday so you only had to last until Sunday! Good enough!
After your shift at Maestro cafe, you always went to the vip room with Azul and Jade to see Floyd hanging out with the child
Strangely enough, they didn’t seem to want to play with Azul very much. Going as far as clinging onto one of the Tweel’s or yours arm instead and a frustrated Azul not knowing what he did wrong, rereading contracts
In the middle of the week, you’re busy doing something with the rest of the first years and the twins have to make up a test so it’s just Azul and the small child that for some reason, did not like him.
The child sits far away coloring with crayons, quiet, not trying to bother him to play with them. Like…it’s some sort of burden.
Azul wonders as he writes on another contract what he did wrong
And he finally gets his guts together
Rolling up the paper, he sets it aside and moves closer to the child
“What are you drawing?”
“…My family.” They say quietly, unlike the boisterous yelling they do with the others
“May I take a look?”
“Y’never look when I wan’ you to.”
That perks Azul’s attention up
“Do you know me in the future?”
The child nods hesitantly
“You…you’re my real papa. Y’don’t like me very much though.”
Azul’s eyes widen
“I-I’m y-your father?”
“Yeah…” They stop their drawing and slides it to Azul’s side
There was them in the middle of you and the Tweels. Azul being on the other side of the paper.
“[Child’s Name]…May I ask you why ‘I don’t like you’ in your time and why I’m far away even when I’m your father?”
“Y’don’t play with me. You don’t eat with me n’ [Nickname] at the table, you…you always in your study room working on…c-cont-racts.”
A sniffle comes from the child
“I see Jadey and Flo around more than you…I can see [Nickname] being sad cause y’not there. You..you only care ‘bout work.”
Oh and how Azul’s heart shatters hearing about this. He does get with his crush and have a family, but he took it for granted. Future him took his happy family for granted. The route he’s going now, only focusing on his own profit, will only cause pain.
He cusses in his head.
“No, no, I don’t care about work. Not now.” Azul moves to the child’s side, picking them up into his arms and hugging them tightly
“I don’t know what happened in the future but, I would love you. No matter what. Future me is quite silly so do not believe in him.”
“You…you really wanna be my daddy?”
“I don’t ‘wanna’ be, I am your father. I shouldn’t have taken that for granted. To have a cute mini octopus like you in my life as well as your [Nickname] makes me feel happy. I don’t know what will happen once you get sent back but for the rest of this week, I will give you everything.”
“Pinky promise?” Azul rubs the tears away with a handkerchief as they point their pinky out. He smiles happily
“Pinky promise.” He clasps their pinkys together
After they finish crying, they turn over to the table and scratches the former paper with a black crayon before getting a new one
“Oh? Why did you do that?”
“Daddy wants to be with me! I wanna remake it now!”
“Can I draw with you then?”
“Yeah!”
Needless to say when the three of you rushed over to the vip room expecting the baby to cry or be alone, you all are surprised seeing a Azul with them in his lap, both drawing while having a conversation.
What’s more surprising?
The soft expression Azul has on his face.
Your heart beats a bit faster as adoration pops up in your chest.
Lilia had told you all that after he sent them back, that everyone would lose their memories. With that, Azul used that to his advantage and told you three who the child really belonged to.
The Tweels spent an hour teasing you and Azul about it
When it’s time to say goodbye, Lilia is busy reading the spell while the child hugs the twins tightly
“Bye bye Jadey! Bye bye Flo!”
“Wahh…does guppy have to go…?”
“Unless you want a time paradox or something, yeah they do.” Lilia pats both of twins on the back
Fortunately for you and Azul who were watching in the back, the twins backed off and gave you a moment’s peace with your the child.
“[Nickname]! Papa!” They come up and you both kneel down to reciprocate their embrace
Your eyes lock with Azul’s and for a split second he sees you in a wedding outfit. Your left hand which was laying on top of the guppy’s head was adorned with two rings.
He blinks and sees you in the normal school uniform but can’t help but smile happily at his future family.
“Remember our promise. Ok?” He tells them once you three part
The smaller nods excitedly before standing in front of a waiting Lilia
And thus, he casts the spell. The spell replaces everyone’s memories with what should’ve happened without the child
And they start to progress again…
Azul wakes up, flinching
He doesn’t know how but he woke up from this…strange dream.
Did…did he really only focus on work?
He thinks back to the past few months and his face retorts in horror of the realization
He has. He needs to make it up to his family before it’s too late.
Azul rushes out of his study to the bedroom to see you asleep with puffy eyes
He leaps on the bed, shaking you in near tears
“H-huh? Azul…? What is it? Do you need something—“
He cuts you off with a hug that pins you back to the bed
“Azzy?! Wha-what’s wrong?!”
“Please forgive me. I’ve been a terrible husband and father recently. Focusing o-only on work, how silly of me to lose sight of what I truly love.” His arms tighten around you
“Azul…can’t breathe…”
Azul quickly pulls off of and sits up anxiously. Waiting for you to say you don’t forgive him or divorce him but what comes next is nothing but a soft kiss to his lips.
“I’m just happy that you finally realized it. I was so scared I lost you. But just to note, I’ll kick your ass if you do this again.” You whisper in his ear as you hug him tightly
“I’ll take that anytime.” He then sneaks under the blanket with you and held you throughout the night, whispering to you that he would never leave you again.
In the morning, he asks the twins to take over for him today. They happily agreed, cheering over the phone. Seems like they noticed his change in behavior too.
He chuckles to himself before he feels your presence next to him, rubbing your head into his shoulder.
“It’s rare you cook.”
“I plan on doing this more. Haven’t done this for you two in a long time.”
You laugh and kiss him before you both hear small footsteps in the hallway
“[Nickname], I have brushed m’ teeth by myself!” They stand proud before their shock is evident on their face at Azul’s presence
“Hi little guppy,” You pat them on their head as they look at Azul with hesitation “Good job on brushing your teeth all on your own! Papa is off work today so he can spend time with us. Wanna say hi?”
You look at him and his expression is bitter at how he left you two alone. He catches your glance and sees how you just tell him to try.
He walks towards his kid as you watch the stovetop.
Kneeling down, he held the smaller hands in his.
“I…I haven’t been a good father for you my dear fry. I’m so sorry for that. To pay attention to my work more than my own family was a huge mistake. I wish to make it up to you in any way no matter how long it takes. I’ll look at your drawings, play with your toys, cook your favorite thing. I love you so much. I am so, so sorry.” He looks down sadly as he tells him
“Nuh-uh! You’re my daddy. You are my papa! You said sorry and you wanna color with me! I like that. Jadey and Flo took care of me but you’re my favorite! I love you too!” The child grins brightly at him and Azul wells up in tears again, hugging the small child’s frame tightly.
And a whisper came from them
“You kept our promise. I’m happy.” And they rush off to the table once you call for them to wash their hands and eat.
The whispered phrase nudges at him
‘Was it…truly a dream or did we both experience that…?”
My dumbass kept thinking about how this sounds like The Christmas Carol wayyy too much. Anyways best Christmas movie 10/10, fight me. @demon-lover-669 thank you for the prompt. That was delicious.
#twisted wonderland x reader#twst x reader#azul ashengrotto x reader#azul ashengrotto x yuu#azul ashengrotto x mc#Azul ashengrotto x male reader#Azul ashengrotto x female reader#Azul ashengrotto x gn reader#angst#hurt/comfort#happy ending#minniemoots#mindlessclow#x reader#gn reader#twisted wonderland x female reader#twisted wonderland x male reader#twisted wonderland x gn reader
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your toxic könig is so perfect and the more recent posts made me think about a similar kind of au but with gromsko. like god i need this man to """force""" me into being his perfect little wife i swear.
AND IM SO SORRY but being slavic also makes this even more feral for me because i imagine the second his gf shows a bit too much independence/DARES to talk over him (yeah it's an achievement to be able to talk over him, the mf is LOUD)/etc he just. goes feral like he sees it as a challenge and he needs to show her what a slavic woman is actually supposed to be like.
but slavic or not he'll keep holding the fact that he "tamed" you over your head even when he's fucking you. talks about how this is your place, this is where you belong and how he's going to make sure you remember by breeding you full.
Omg Gromsko OMG
I'm so normal about him yes yes it's just your ask that made me this way ^^ I'm blaming you my dear anon 💕
CW: Protective & possessive behavior, implied sexism
So, Gromsko. Your car broke down in the middle of the road and this absolute bear of a Pole pulls over to help you. He has a charming smile, sure, but he's also obnoxiously bold. That casual masculine bravado makes you feel weaker than it should; there's this aura of shameless pride about him, and you can't quite decide if it's annoying or sexy.
You try to tell him you can handle it, that the repair guy is already on his way. But Gromsko? Hah. He just bypasses that shit. Pops up the hood and gets to work. The car is fixed in no time, and the next thing you know is that you just said yes when "Sobieslaw Kościuszko, pleasure to meet you, miss," asked if he could take you out to dinner this evening.
And it's true that he's loud. Like, why does he have to talk by half shouting...? (Probably because he has to make it known that he's the strongest, most virile male in the area.)
Sobieslaw always sits with a wide spread, with a broad, tall chest, with a confidence that seems to come naturally to him. He never tries to make himself smaller, no matter how crammed a space is. Everyone except the elderly has to move aside when he walks because he's not going to dodge or sidestep. You're not the only one who fears he will eventually break one of those dainty little chairs in the fine dining place he brought you to; the waiter side eyes this man like he's some beast that somehow got in and should be caged, not fed.
Despite all that brass, Gromsko is a proper gentleman. Always opens the doors for you, always pays at a restaurant. And always grabs your waist and draws you closer if there are other men around. Guy looks like he's ready to get into a fist fight for you if it comes to that.
It's kind of hair-raising how he laughs at the very concept of independent woman. His woman should never have to be "independent." It would be an insult to him as a man if his wife had to go to work.
He tells you how beautiful you are with intensity and passion that seems to come from another age. That boundless adoration makes you feel drunk, and Gromsko doesn't seem to notice anyone else but you – it's like all other women have disappeared from this planet.
He lays siege to you like crusaders of old laid siege to a city. You never have to fear whether you're coming off as too interested or eager or that you'll "scare" him away: this man is always more interested and eager than you. Still, you fear that everything will come to an end once you give this man what he wants – namely, sex.
You couldn't be more wrong! He's not fucking around, and he's not dating for the sake of getting laid. He's looking for a wife and a mother for his kids.
An infuriatingly sexy, uneven smile spreads across his face everytime you meet. He's checking you out, and he's utterly shameless about it. You're being rated like cattle, and it should not send butterflies to your stomach when you notice he seems to more than just approve of your hips and breasts. Little do you know Sobieslaw Kościuszko has already decided you're to be his wife.
When you finally spread your legs for this man, you expect him to fuck you with the urgency and attentiveness of a 20-year old hockey player. But Gromsko is actually a skilled lover! You don't know why and you don't know how, but he seems to decode you and all your weaknesses in record time. Hot kisses and intense love making are his bravura. Gromsko is so attuned to you and your pussy that it should be illegal.
It's like the gods made this man to breed women and spread his seed because he has the biggest balls you've ever seen. He doesn't grow all too soft after climaxing, and continues to fuck you even after you both just came. With sloppy patience, sure, because you're practically begging for mercy under him… but the point is that he just won't stop. He continues to pump you with strong hips and infinite stamina, and groans how perfect you are as you approach your second orgasm.
He places so much trust on his cock that, perhaps surprisingly, you're the first woman he has ever put his mouth on. It's the only thing that makes that eternal shield of pride tilt aside a bit, because he hates it when he doesn't know what he's doing… but neither is he a man who backs down when faced with a challenge!
He doesn't know what he's doing, which means he takes a mental note of every single thing that makes you shiver and sigh. This Polish bear learns to please you and just you, examines how you respond to slow licks and fast laps, sucks on your nub until you cry, and when he sees how much you enjoy his treatment, this man goes crazy.
"You like that, kochanie?" He pants between your legs, drunk on your pussy, swearing in Polish and giving lewd comments about how wet you are. He only ups the pace with his tongue when you cum. You're an overstimulated mess, but he's not done. He crawls on top of you and gets down to business with his thick cock, those heavy balls start to slap against your soaked flesh until you feel like you have no brains left.
"It's easier to just stop fighting, kotku," he seems to approve of your wet, moaning state more than anything. But it's the wickedly pleased gruff of "Let's get married, Słoneczko," that sends you spiraling into another overstimulated, glorious orgasm.
You don't even know that he's already told his whole family about you. You don't yet know that his grandmother already loves you. But it starts to dawn on you that you got more than you bargained for when Gromsko informs you that he'll take you to Poland but only as his wife.
Perhaps that's where this man's charm lies! Gromsko simply knows what he wants: a good loyal wife and a nice, large family. If you can give them to him, he's not wasting any time getting you pregnant. You're knocked up before you even know it, there's a ring on your finger before you get to say Na Zdrowie. You're his little wife now, and there's nothing you can do about it ❤️
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“The little owl family” (Part 3)
(RZ!Michael Myers x GNReader)
Summary: your and your little sister’s life had an 180° turn when your parents got into a severe car crash, dying on the spot. You, being already past 18 had to figure out how to keep things afloat and give yourself, specially your sister, a good future. And you did! It was hard but you did it and became the absolute hero in the little girl’s eyes. People would often involuntary smile at the dynamic of your two, so wholesome and supportive, the perfect family bond.Bond that a certain Boogeyman noticed as well…
Warnings: typical mentions of murder, Mikey being obsessive and violent.
Word Count: 4k. (Sorry for so much text- )
Additional info: Gender Neutral reader. (S/N) = sister’s name.
(Part 1) (Part 2) (Part 4) (Part 5) (Part 6)
Both siblings have returned home after making a visit to the plice station. (Y/N) was a bit moody but mostly relieved that the police finally listened. They already visited the station, the day after finding the dinosaur drawing, but of course everyone thought they were crazy for freaking out over a scrible, saying that maybe some teens saw them around the Myers house and decided to prank them. They had non of it yet couldn't do much, the only advice the cop gave them was to close the doors and keep the inside of the house private.
Now however, when the police heard (S/N)'s testimony that's when they took it more serious. Sure, the probability of it being some dumbass dressing up to be funny was there, yet it worth checking just in case, specially when knowing that the real Michael Myers kidnapped his sister. And who knows, maybe he'll do the same but with some random child...
—"(Y/N)..."—
(S/N)'s gentle voice shut all overwhelming thoughts inside (Y/N)'s mind. They slowly put the knife next to the cooking board and look at their sister.
—"What is it songbird? Still scared?"—
The girl fidgets with her fingers a bit while staring on the tiled kitchen floor. Eventually she sighs and her arms drop.
—"I'm sorry..."—
(Y/N) blinks a couple of times, confused with their sudden apology.
—"Sorry? For what?"— you ask, genuinely confused.
—"For starting all this mess... I think Terry is right, I'm just a scaredy cat that overreacted."— she says, her expression guilty.
Their eyes widened slightly, they walk over to their sister and kneel in front of her.
—"You did nothing wrong sweetheart, you actually did the right thing! The police is there to help, to protect us."— you say softly as you cup her cheek. —"And you better get ready because tomorrow I'll say Terry some not-so-nice things to that goblin so he leaves you alone."—
—"It's... It's not about Terry anymore, it's about you (Y/N)."— she lowers her gaze even more. —"I- I don't like how much you have to worry now, and it's all because of me! If-... If I just stayed quiet, if I didn't ask to see that dumb old house we would be okay and happy, and we would be able to celebrate Halloween!... I ruined it all I- "—
Before (S/N) could continue with her rant, her sibling wraps their arms around her form tightly, holding her close in silence for a few seconds.
—"I said you did nothing wrong. This situation could've happe to anyone, and we got the unluky number. I know you're worried about me and I admit that I may not be at my best state, but it will pass eventually and everything will be right again."— you lean back a bit, your gaze warm. —"We just need to hold on a bit, until the police catches that scary man. I'm sure it will be soon."—
(S/N), more calm, nods as she wipes the little tears that were threatning to slide down her cheeks.
—"Was that man Michael Myers?... Is he the Boogeyman?..."—
(Y/N)'s body goes stiff as they think what to answer. They haven't told their sister about the stranger's identity, not wanting to scare her even further but it seems like (S/N) started to figure out the whole situation by herself.
—"I-... I don't know."— you sigh, but she doesn't seem convinced. —"Myers is supposed to be in the asylum and- "—
—"He escaped... Did he?"— she glances at you.
After a little pause, their sibling nods, their expression a bit sad, even ashamed for trying to keep her oblivious. But the girl had no anger or resentment in her eyes, but a desire to know.
—"What did he do so everyone are so scared of him?..."—
—"I'm... I'm not sure you want to know that... Long story short; very scary and bad things."—
—"What things? Please tell me (Y/N)! I promise I won't get scared!"— she begs you in a childish tone.
(Y/N) remains quiet, thinking. Eventually they sigh and stand up.
—"You better take a sit, I'll go get you a poptart."— you simply say.
The girl gets a little spine chill, both excited and worried about what her sibling is about to tell her. Ones the girl took her sit on the dining table and was munching the sweet treat, (Y/N) starts speaking while resuming their cooking.
—"Last year, a few days before Halloween, all grown up Michael Myers escaped. He killed people while doing it, and not in a pretty way..."—
(S/N) freezes mid bite.
—"K-Killed?..."—
—"Yes... Killed. One of the victims was one of his caretakers, a sweet old man that was there since he was a kid..."—
(Y/N) could see how physically uncomfortable their sister got, even if the details of how he killed him weren't mentioned. They began to feel bad for the little girl and were ready to stop the 'story telling', but the girl proved to be tougher than expected.
—"And what happened after he escaped?..."—
—"He... He tracked his little sister, that is now a teen. He murdered her adoptive parents, a friend and then kiddnapped her, nearly killing her as well in the process. The sister survived though, and Michael Myers supposedly died when she shot him, but as we can see he didn't..."—
The little girl listens quietly, taking in the information and shrinking on her sit every second, the munched poptart still untouched in her shaky hands.
—"Is he... Is he coming to kills us?"— she finally asks.
There are a few seconds of silence, until (Y/N) breaks it, their tone loud, strict, cold... Yet burning with anger and determination.
—"I won't allow it."— and you meant it. —"If he dares to come, I will break every single limb of his. He's not touching you while I'm still breathing."—
Such tone took (S/N) off guard, she never saw her sibling be so cold and serious about anything.
—"But... But what if he hurts you?..."—
—"He won't. Mom and dad won't allow him."— you reply with a softer tone and then turn towards her. —"Even if they're not here, they still taking care of us. We'll be okay, songbird. I promise."— you smile.
The girl remains silent, observing their expression to see if they're just pretending, but (Y/N)'s look and words seemed genuine. She eventually smiles back with a toothy grin.
—"You're right! Bet the ghost of mom and dad are going to haunt him if he dares to come!"—
—"Oh they definetely will! Dad was scary but angry mom was even scarier!"—
And the dull atmosphere from before vanished in a blink of an eye, the siblings talking about random topic which would make them either laugh or argue. The tunes coming out from the speaker only made their afternoon even better, singing or even dancing, anything to keep the dark thoughts away.
But of course, they weren't enjoying it alone. The dark presence was outside, hiding in the shadows. Even though he couldn't see (Y/N) through the windows anymore, due to the curtains they strictly maintained closed, their tone alone was enough to make him feel the same adrenaline spike, his chest heavy with some sort of excitement. The way their cold voice managed to penetrate and shake every single bone and muscle inside of him was an indescribable feeling, yet so, so adicting. They knew who he is, the atrocities he commited and how much of a threat he is, yet they made it clear how many fucks they give about it, only worrying about the safety of the little one.
And now... Now that the atmosphere inside of the house changed, so did his mood. The way they both laughed, chanted, danced... Every single interaction between these two radiated with warmth, warmth strong enough to keep the crude outside world away from their little happy home.
From their little happy family...
Happy family...
He should be envious of them, he should be mad at them for having what he could never have, she should try to destroy it, to destroy the both of them so he stops feeling bad...!
But... He doesn't. He doesn't feel bad at all, none of these negative and destructive feelings are haunting him, not ones. It's the oposite, he actually feels warmth whenever he observes them, some alien coziness that unknowingly to him would make his body relax and gaze soft. He's not sure why he feels like this, but he can't deny the fact that if feels good... Peaceful, he feels at peace for ones in his wretched life.
He should be content with that, with what he has it should be enough, it should... But he knows that his mind will crave for more...
And it's only a matter of time before he loses control.
. . .
October 28th.
The last couple of days been pretty uneventful, the 'Boogeyman' wasn't mentioned anymore and didn't appear ones, even the owl family resumed their carefree lifestyle and were already teaching their babies to fly!
But unfortunately, tonight the siblings couldn't observe the birds due to a hard storm outside. Rain, wind, thunder, you named it all.
(S/N) was in (Y/N)'s room, she was quite scared of thunders so of course she would ask to sleep with their sibling who, unlike the young one, was probably having the best sleep of their life.
The bed was quite wide so they both fit without any issue, each one with their own blanket.
At some point though, a particulary loud thunder resonated, which made (S/N) cuddle closed to (Y/N). The mentioned sibling woke up due the loud sound but thought nothing of it, ready to close their eyes and go back to sleep.
But suddenly, an alarming feeling striked in their gut. Something felt wrong, is the air colder? Heavier? Is their heartbeat too loud? Is the house too silent? It's hard to tell what exactply isn't right, but they know something is.
They suddenly sit up, their eyes wide and staring at the door. The little girl felt the sudden movement and also sit up, though her form sleepy and confused.
—"Uh?... What's wrong?"— she mumbles before yawning.
—"...I don't know."— you reply, still staring at the door.
The girl blinks a couple of times and also looks at the door. They both remain in this position completely still, barely breathing, until a very faint thud resonated somewhere downstairs. Sure, the noise could mean whatever, but the sense of dread inside of (Y/N) only increased, demanding them to take actions.
—"{Songbird.}"— you whisper, your tone urgent. —"{I want you to tiptoe towards the closet and hide in there, do not come out until I say so.}"—
—"{B-But- }"—
She has no time to ask questions because (Y/N) had stand up and was already searching under their bed for something. They eventually find what they've been looking for, a hunting rifle.
They then look up and glance at their sister, who was completely frozen on the bed with a horrified expression.
—"{Just go hide, please. And if things get ugly...}"— you pause, glancing at the door briefly. —"{Then run away, run towards our next house neighbors and ask them to call the police, okay?"}—
—"{But (Y/N)!... Y-You-...}"—
They nudge her side gently, silently telling her to stop talking and hide. With a huge effort the girl manages to make her body move again and as quietly as she could she made her way towards the closet, hiding her form inside and gently closing the door.
(Y/N) remained in place, near the bed with the rifle already pointing at the door. For solid five minutes absolutely nothing happened, the wind kept howling, the rain pouring and the thunders striking, but nothing else, there were no more odd sounds inside the hou-
Footsteps, the unmistakable sound of footsteps resonated from the stairs. Whoever was walking was doing it slowly, casually even, as if they owned the place. (Y/N) kept their posture, pre aiming at the door and simply waiting, if the intruder is bold enough to enter into their room they'll shoot without thinking twice. Sure, the idea of killing another human is scary and definetely puts their mind even more on edge, but it's either their and (S/N)'s or the intruder's life.
The footsteps eventually stop right in front of the door. There are another good few minutes of silence but it's suddenly interrupted by a loud and bright thunder, which illuminated the whole room and the hall. And right there, through the door crack, they saw an unmistakable shadow of a human.
With no time to waste and with enough evidence that there is an intruder, (Y/N) pulls the trigger.
BANG!
A faint line of smoke is coming out the rifle, but there was no thud or screams of pain at the other side of the door, nothing.
They remain in position for a while but after not hearing anything, or seeing through the tiny hole they just made, (Y/N) slowly lowers the gun, questioning if there even was someone or it's actually their unhealthy paranoia getting the best of them.
They got their answer when the door practically flew off it's hanles and a giant dark mass charged at them. They try to aim and shoot again but the intruder is way faster and manages to grab the end of the rifle and tilt it up the moment (Y/N) pulls the trigger again, making them shoot at the ceiling.
They both struggle, (Y/N) desperately trying to get the gun free but the intruder is way too strong, he's also big, which makes it nearly impossible to push away.
Realizing that things are actually about to get ugly, they shout.
—"(S/N)! RUN!"—
The closet door swings open and the little girl sprints out the room, quietly crying and extremely scared. The massive stranger stopped for a brief moment when he heard the girl, it was just a moment of stillness that ended up with him practically ripping off the rifle out of (Y/N)'s grasp and throwing it agains the wall with great force.
The next thing they know is that the intruder managed to get to their neck. Ones has a firm hold of it, he stands up to his full height and slams their body against the wall, knocking out any oxygen left in their lungs. It didn't stop (Y/N) from struggling though, doing their best to land a kick on his stomack or the lower (and more painful) parts, yet their attempts were cut short when the stranger began to squeeze their neck with both hands, making their struggles weaker.
Eventually, the lack of oxygen began to affect (Y/N) and their arms drop and their body goes numb. Only when they nearly fainted, is when the stranger lose his grip, not enough to let go but enough to let them breathe as they're kept in place.
Durning this little moment of calm another thunder striked and illuminated the room, allowing them to see the emotionless face of the stranger, staring right into their sould.
—"{Myers...}"— you mouth breathlessly.
A sudden little thud followed by a rubber squeak got their attention. (Y/N)'s eyes wide and fill with terror when they see (S/N) standing in the doorway with a little pile of toys in one arm.
—"Leave them alone! You ugly monster!"—
She exclaims as she throws another toy into Michael's broad back, the toy making little to no harm. The man merely glances over his shoulder, his gaze now focused on her little frame.
—"You're mad at us because we visited your home, are you?! (Y/N) did absolutelly nothing wrong, we went there because of me! I am the guilty one! You should've punish me instead!"—
She exclaims again, tears sliding down her cheeks like rivers yet she didn't care. The girl stood high and threw another toy.
—"Or you want to take them away?! I know you have a little sister too, I- "— she hiccups a bit. —"I can be your new little sister! Please take me! Punish me! B-But please! Please leave (Y/N) alone!"—
The girl ends up desperately sobbing, both scared of the man in front of her and the fact that her sibling may disappear forever. Michael slowly turns towards her as he lets go of (Y/N), their body falling into the floor as they gasp for air.
The man starts to slowly and menacingly walk towards (S/N). The girl suddenly realized the mess she just got herself into as she starts to back away, throwing the rest of her toys at the man in a desperate attempt to slow him down, but all they did is bounce off his body into the floor.
—"W-Wait! Ne-Never mind! I- I ch-changed my mind! I don't want t-to go anywhere!"— she lets out a squeak when her back hit the wall in the hall.
The massive man gets even closer, his shadow making the already dark house even darker, darkness that threatens to engulf anything and never let go. The girl lets out a terrified cry as she shields herself with her hands.
—"(Y/N)!"—
The desperate cry of their name made them regain their conscience quickly, they see Michael Myers being just two feets away from their sister, blocking any escape with his broad figure as he extends his hand towards the little girl. Oh god he's about to strangle her just like he attempted with them!
(S/N) is in danger.
They must save her.
No matter what.
But what both siblings failed to see, was the way Michael moved his arm towards the little girl. His movements where slow and smooth, no aggression reflected in them.
When he was about to brush his finger agains (S/N)'s arm, a spartan-like war cry resonated behind him and something cold was wrapped around his neck. (Y/N) tugs the thick wire back rougly, causing the behemoth to stumble backwards, leaving enough room for (S/N) to escape.
—"RUN GODDAMNIT!"— you yell.
And this time (S/N) listens, sprinting through the stairs as fast as her body allows, leaving the house and not return.
The struggle between Michael and (Y/N) continued, they held tightly into the wire, trying to squeaze it even more while Michael attempted to get them off his back. The man eventually gets the solution and slams his body, back first, agains the wall, but (Y/N) doesn't give up. He repeats this maneuver a couple of times until their grip is lose enough to peel them off him and throw them into the floor.
The fall didn't go well, (Y/N) ended up going face first into the floor, but whatever pain they felt is quickly overshadowed by the adrenaline rushing through their veins. They know they won't be able to kill this monster, they know they're going to die, they know they have no chance, they know... But they refuse to go down so easily.
Durning the struggle, it seems like the man dropped his weapon, which (Y/N) had already grabbed as they stand up again. They hold the knife tightly as they stare into the man’s eyes, blood was leaking through their nose down their chin like a river. And despite this, despite all of these disadvantages, they stand hight and ready to keep fighting.
The killer must think they’re insane for even daring to get back to their feet, that they’re delusional for attempting to fight back… But (Y/N) does not care, not when their most loved one is in danger.
Michael remains completely still, looking at (Y/N)’s form. The moment their eyes made contact again, the same spine chill jolted through his body. The feeling was electrifying, so adictive, it began to intoxicate his mind, his eyes half lidded and breath heavy. He shouldn't be like this, (Y/N)'s eyes should not cause his body to react like that, but he can't help it...
Their eyes... There was no fear on them, only cold rage, a burning determination to protect and fight back. This gaze could be compared to the one of a wild wolf protecting an injured member of their pack.
The sacrifice they were ready to make in order to protect their sister caused Michael to feel a bit of respect towards them... Maybe even admiration, no, obsession. He was obsessed with their eyes, with their voice, with them... He was obsessed with (Y/N).
They both remains still, but eventually, and to their misfortune, Michael makes a move. He charges at them but (Y/N) seemed to learn from their previous mistake as they step aside and make a clear slash on his shoulder, causing the man release a low groan.
They attempt to stab him on the neck but Michael quickly grabs their wrist mid attack and tightly squeezes it, to the point that he felt something pop inside and right after that the knife was released from their grasp. But (Y/N) still refused to give up, this time they attepts to land a hit on his face or grab his mask, attempt that was cut short when Michael pushed them into the floor and practically tackled them.
(Y/N) glares daggers at him, their gaze hateful.
—"Don't you get it you sick fuck?!"— you exclaim, voice full of anger.
Michael only tilts his head, action that only pisses (Y/N) off.
—"I am not stopping, I won't stop fighting, not when my sister is in danger! Not while I'm still breathing!"—
And after these words they start struggling under Michael's large body, as the man himself got entranced with them again. Their bloodied visage looked so beautiful to him for some reason, their eyes filled with hate, not only towards him, but towards everything in the world made his breath shake. If it was any other victim he would be frustrated with such behavior... But not with (Y/N), never with them.
At some point, their struggles began to morph into quiet sobs, desperate and disappointed. They were disappointed with themselves, their helplessness and their inability to protect (S/N), not from this monster. They failed her...
They look away and bite their lip, holding their cries as best as possible, not wanting this beast to see them cry, to give him the joy watching them slowly break. This new picture of (Y/N) caused something inside of Michael's chest squeeze painfully, this new broken and vulnerable (Y/N) was very different from the previous one. It may not cause him the same thrill, but in ignites a new emotion, something he though he lost very, very long ago...
Protectiveness.
The same one he felt when he saw Angel cry, when she cowered away from him before he tried to reveal himself... And even after she tried to escape, he still felt protective of her in his own way... And now he feels it towards (Y/N).
Michael's head then straightens as he began to lean down, closer to them. (Y/N) tries to use their last bits of strength to push him away, slow him down, anything to keep him away from killing them in that same instant. When they feel his large arms wrap around their form, they shut their eyes tightly, expecting to feel pain at any second as he breaks their body limb by limb... But that doesn't happen.
They keep their eyes closed for a solid minute, and when still nothing happen, they open them just to be greeted by Michael's large form holding them in a tight embrace. His body warm despite his clothes being wet, the heat slightly soothing any pain in (Y/N)'s body, but not their mind. Being this close they can feel how powerful and strong Michael's body is, even embraced they can barely move, he could easily break their spine at any moment with enough force if he wanted to...
But (Y/N) had no time to question it or had any strength to push him since the adrenaline started to worn off and their vision and senses to slowly black out.
They're not sure how long Michael held them, but eventually he let go and stood up as the plice sirens got closer. He throws one last glance at (Y/N)'s nearly unconscious form before grabbing his knife and walking away.
But, it wasn't the last time they will see him...
Because the monster inside of him will force him to return…
#nothomegal fic#michael myers#rz michael myers#rz michael myers x reader#michael myers x reader#gn reader#halloween#slasher x reader
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Don’t mind me.. just thinking about singledad/neighbor!Soap 🫶🏻
Thinking about how curious he would be to come home after work to see the big moving truck blocking his drive.
The townhome that shared a wall with his had been blissfully empty for months now, the last tenant had been a pompous old cunt, the kind that nagged and complained about how noisy the kids were.
Ah, his kids- who were currently, probably, driving the nanny just a bit mad. Two boys is no easy feat, much less a 2 year old with the same mischievous tendencies as his father, and a 5 year old who was too smart for his own good.
“Ach, definitely gets that from his mother.” he always says, even though everyone knows the man is smart as a whip.
But it’s when he nearly collides with a brown, cardboard box that he finally meets you.
You, who looked nearly on the verge of tears as you peeked your face around the side of the box before sitting it down,
“I’m- sorry..”, you apologized at least three more times before even making eye contact with him, looking up to see the outrageously handsome man just barely holding back a smile.
Soap’s curiosity was more piqued than ever, hearing your thick American accent- seeing you fumble for words before blowing out a long sigh,
“It’s been a long night- uh- day. I don’t know anymore.. I had a thirteen hour layover, and I haven’t slept in I think over twenty-four hours now? and you.. but, none of that matters. Ha.. um, hi.”
Oh- Fucking hell, you’re adorable. And he’s in trouble.
You extended a trembling hand, your name spoken so softly he could’ve missed it if he were further away- but he thinks he likes the sound of it.
“John MacTavish.. nice tae meet ye, lass.”
The weak giggle that tumbles from between your lips is a sweet sound, one he instantly finds himself craving more of-
“Somethin’ funny?” He asks, cocking his head to the side, your hand still in his because he noticed you haven’t made any effort to pull away.
And fuuuuck, the way your cheeks bloom an even brighter red makes your features somehow even more gorgeous- it’s honestly not fair, the universe giving him the prettiest little thing for a neighbor.
“No.. I just- your accent- and you, you’re very nice, oh- oh my god.” You finally let go of him, scrubbing the same hand over your face, “You’re.. my neighbor. And I’m blocking your spot. Christ alive.. I’ll move it, I’m sorry-“
Before he can tell you it’s fine, that you really didn’t have to, you had already flitted away.
+++
He doesn’t see you for another week. He sees the moving truck disappear, spots a sparkly holiday wreath on the door the next day, hears you quietly moving about mostly in the evenings, and sees your chimney puffing white smoke- but never you.
Until finally, the sound of his snow shovel draws you out.
You hadn’t even gotten dressed yet, it was that early. Sleepily making your way downstairs, pulling on your ridiculous fluffy robe as you go- Scotland winters would certainly take some getting used to.
It’s then you hear the oddly repetitive sound, scraping followed by a dull thump. Over and over.
You peek through the curtains, seeing your neighbor- your very good looking neighbor- bundled up in a thick plaid jacket, his overgrown mohawk covered by a black beanie, the dark curly ends just barely poking out around his neck.
He’s shoveling your walkway, oddly tan cheeks colored pink from the cold and exertion-
Without thought, you unlatch your chain lock, flipping the deadbolt next before yanking the door open,
“What are you doing?”
Nice.. real fucking smooth-
Soap looks up in surprise, big blue eyes meeting yours before straying- seeing your legs bare under the fuzzy pink robe, your hair pulled up in a messy bun, little baby hairs flying this way and that. (God, he’s so fucked, isn’t he?)
You watch him stand straight, casually leaning against his shovel when that same lopsided smirk as before graces his lips,
“Well.. we got a good bit o’ snow last night, and I figured since I were already up and at ‘em, I’d do the neighborly thing, y’ken?”
——
🫣🫣 oh god, I’ve watched waaayyyy too many cheesy holiday movies - send help.
#I have no idea what this is#but Soap would be a DILF#you can’t change my mind#johnny mactavish#johnny soap mctavish x reader#single dad soap#cod fandom#call of duty#your honor I LOVE HIM
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Let Me Be Your Girl
Summary: You decided you weren't a little girl anymore.
Pairing: DBF Leon Kennedy x Younger Fem Reader (y/n)
Tags: older Leon (mid 30s), reader is 20, IM SORRY I DIDN'T WANNA USE Y/N IT JUST HAPPENED, f masturbation, p in v
A/N: first (official) fic! Feedback is appreciated !! Please enjoy! ₊✩‧₊˚౨ৎ˚₊✩‧₊ (he has a slight accent DONT CARE IF ITS NOT CANON IDFC)
╔══ ஓ๑♡๑ஓ ══╗
I loved wearing short skirts, tight tops, little bows in my hair.
I loved parading myself around knowing I had everyones eyes on me.
But boys my age would never be what I wanted, I always wanted something older. More bitter. Like how I always would take whiskey over cheap beer. Sweet wine over a shot. Just like how I wanted him from the start.
Leon has always been close to my dad. Whenever my dad was on missions, Leon was there to watch me. Held me over my first breakup, gave me my first glass of whiskey. I mean what about him was there not to love?
"You'll find older is always better hunny." He told me after pouring me a glass. Leon always wanted me to be safe. Drinking with him than at some stupid party with drunk boys. "Teenage boys don't know how to treat someone like you yet baby." He said to me that night.
That's when it started, my little teenage crush on Leon. Whenever he came over my shorts got shorter, my tops tighter. I always did my hair up for him, my makeup a little nicer than usual. I started to wear the bows in my hair for him when he said drunkly to me, "You should wear these more often. Make you look pretty." he said stumbling all over his words, mindlessly moving my hair out of my face.
I tried making my crush on him obvious, brushing my hand along his, bending over to pick stuff up, listening to him talk about his hard day at work. Batting my lashes at him, practically giving him fuck me eyes. Never did he ever do anything back. Moved away from my advances even.
Now I'm 20, still having him babysit me like some stupid teenager. I'm not some stupid kid anymore who can't take care of herself. I pull my tits into my lacy cami top, braiding my hair putting little bows at the end, just like he said he liked. My pj shorts rested low on my hips, barely doing anything to cover up the pink lacy underwear underneath.
Tonight I was going to prove to Leon I wasn't some dumb kid he needed to protect and watch over, but rather a girl who could love. A girl he could fuck. No more restless nights in my bed, fucking into my own hand thinking of him, I needed him. Just once. To ruin every other man for me, just like he said. "Older always better."
I hear the door open downstair, "Hey baby, your daddy said I had to watch you tonight." I hear him yell from downstairs. I skip down the stairs checking myself in the mirror before going into the kitchen. I smile big before jumping into his arms. "Leon!!" I can hear him chuckle as he holds me back. His hands resting on my lower back, never any lower. I lean my head back to look up at him, "Don't you think I'm a little old for a babysitter?" Leon tilts his head at me, "No but I also rather not lose my job because I told your dad off."
I roll my eyes at him, "Daddy likes you to much, he'd never do that." Leon walks around the kitchen, in what I'm assuming is making us dinner. So I perch myself up on the counter, trying to position myself in a way that would draw his attention to me. I hear him sigh, "Yeah, I guess I am a favorite of his ain't I?" He puts the pan on the stove next to me, and he leans over me. I lean into him more, "Yeah, and I think he knows I'd be mad if I didn't see you around again." I say smiling, bringing my face closer to his. Leon immediately backs up.
I pout a bit, going to get off the counter before, "You need to stop that." He says gruffly from his spot on the other side of the kitchen. I tilt my head, walking towards him. "Stop doing what Leon?" He turns and stops me in my tracks, my face almost colliding with his chest. "Parading yourself around for me, I'm not stupid y/n."
I look up at him, giving him the best fuck me eyes I can give. "Than give me what I want Leon." I put my hand out onto his chest, "I've only been asking for years now. Just one time is all I'm asking for." He grabs my wrist and leans into my face, "Baby, one time would ruin you. Would risk me my entire job. What if your daddy found out huh? I think he'd kill me." I tilt my head, pouting out my lip a bit, "He doesn't have to find out, you're a government agent, I know you can keep a secret."
The grip he had on my wrist got a little tighter, and he gave me a harsh look, like he was trying to figure out what he was going to do to me. That look, the grip he had on me, made me wet. I step closer into him, "Leon, please?" He dropped my wrist, "Go to your room." He turned away from me, going back to cooking. "Your sending me to my room?" I stop my foot on the tile.
"I am not a fucking child Leon!" He swiftly turns, "Your sure actin like it!" I sniffle and climb up the stairs back to my room. I slam my door before letting out another little sob. I was not a little kid anymore. I lay in my bed, cuddling my pillow. I sniffle again drying whatever tears were last till I had another idea. Why be sad when I can make myself feel better? I reach into my bedside table grabbing my pink vibrator, before removing my pj pants.
I sit up on my knees, before turning it on and placing it on my clit. I moan, loudly at the feeling. If I wasn't going to get the attention from him, I'll give it to myself. I spread myself out onto my bed, ass up, starting to grind into it. "Y/N! Dinner is ready!" I moan, turning it on to the higher setting, ignoring Leon. I hear him start to climb up the steps before swinging my door open.
I don't stop. I open my legs wider, exposing my wet cunt to him. I keep chasing my high before I feel a pair of hands grab me and flip me over. He grabs the vibartor out of my hands, and throws it across the room. "What the fuck do you think you're doing." I tilt my head, "Pleasing myself cus you wouldn't man up and do it for me."
Leon grabs my hips harder, digging his hands into my hips. "You're real stupid to think this would work on me." I get my foot in-between us, pushing on his lower stomach. "Well something down there is say something else, hun." Leon grabs me again, pushing my leg out of the way, putting me flush onto his hard on.
He leans down, putting his face right in mine, "Well, Hun, me ever fucking you, is not an option. I could lose my job, your dad's friendship. It doesn't matter how badly I want you or your tight ass cunt." His grip on my hips feels bruising now, causing me to lock my legs around him.
"Leon nobody has to know, please. I can't explain to you how much I need you. " I plead to him. "I know, you think I can't hear you up here? Walls are pretty thin here baby, and do you know how hard it is to not come up here and treat you the way you're begging?" He seethes out of his mouth. "Trust me I've had blue balls for months Y/n."
I let out a shakey breath, "Nobody, Leon, has to know." I bring my hand up to cup his cheek, "I can keep a secret and my dad would never know any better. Please." I beg. Guess my pleading worked because next thing I know his mouth was on mine. Hot, feverish, sloppy, kisses. In a mess on tongue and teeth clashing, panting into each others mouth.
He moves down to my neck, leaving hickeys on my collarbone, "Gotta stop wearing those stupid tiny little camis, drive me fucking wild baby. I know every other boy is staring at your pretty little tits too, but they'll never see em' will they baby?" He continues his assault on my chest, "No, nuh-uh." I drunkly mumble out.
I can hear him chuckle as he moves his hands under my shirt, "We haven't got to the good part and you're already drunk on me, ain't that cute." I whine at his words, "Leon~". I tilt my head back, trying to grind myself into him, (very unsuccessfully). He finally pulls my shirt off of me, before running his hands back down to my thighs. "Just because I think you've been left so high and dry for so long, I'll give into you but next time you're gonna have to work for it, k baby?"
I frantically nod my head, desperate for him to touch me, "Yes Sir." I watch him smirk above me as he starts to play with my clit. "I like that." He says to me, before he slips in one of his large sized fingers, causing my to moan. "Fuck aren't you wet, I really get you going huh hun." I can sense the shit eating grin he has on his face, but my eyes are rolled so far into the back of my head I could give a fuck less.
He continues to finger me open, before I start to come undo around his fingers. "We aren't done yet baby, still haven't had my turn." He flips me over and pulls me to the edge of the bed, lifting my ass up to meet his hips. He puts the tip to my entrance, circling and tapping on it just to get a reaction out of me. It worked, I was squirming and moaning beneath him. "Leon, fuck, please just fuck me already." I cry into my sheets.
I feel him push into me, causing me to gasp at how wide I was being spread open. "You said you wanted it." He says from behind me. And he took advantage of it. The grip he had on my hips would leave bruises in the morning as he pounded his cock into me. Leaving me a drooling, moaning mess, gripping onto my sheets.
He moves one hand under my chin, bringing me up to him, "You can't even say how good you feel I'm fucking you so good, huh baby?" He chuckles as nothing but a broken moan escapes me as I paw at the hand on my chin. He spits into my mouth before pushing me back into my sheets. Keeping one hand on my head, pushing me down and the other still bruisingly gripping my hip.
He starts to pound into me faster, "Come on baby, I'm close, I know you close. Can feel your little pussy squeezing me." I can hear his low groans as he pounds into me faster. I let out a loud, broken moan as I feel myself cum around his cock. He pulls out just in time, coming all over my ass as I twitch and squirm underneath him.
He moves a piece of my bangs out of my face, leaning over me. "You alright baby?" I nod, contently (after having the best fuck of my life) before he smiles, "Well let's get you cleaned up then and we can have dinner. I made your favorite."
And he did, he showered you, helped you change your clothes, he even let you pick out the movies you guys watched as y'all ate. You cuddled up into his chest after, him running his fingers through your hair, both contently holding each other, falling asleep on the couch.
╚══ ஓ๑♡๑ஓ ══╝
A/N: AAAAAA I hope yall enjoyed!! much love if you read this far !! <33 :3
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Hello! I really really really love your writting, I just got into Milgram and yours is my favourite in the fandom!! I love how much depth and nuance you manage to fit into short stories and your characterization is on point! (Specially for Kazui, but I might be biased since I love him so much)
I'm not sure if you're still taking requests (if you're not, feel free to ignore!), but if you are I wanted to request Tears + Kazui
(I thought about maybe the old man finally having a moment where the mask falls? When keeping up the image he's built gets tiring, how does he deal with it, and is he by himself or is there someone nearby? Then again, just an ideia, have fun and take your time!!!)
Woo welcome to the fandom! And thank you so much omg, that's so kind!! ;--; I really like that concept -- I definitely think he'd only allow himself a break from the masks when he's completely alone, and even then it'd be hard to draw out of him, so I went for an unexpected release and even more unexpected company... (Haruka :3)
Kazui woke from a dream, immediately unable to stop his eyes from brimming with tears. It hadn’t been a nightmare. It hadn’t shown him broken glass, or blood, or screaming. He hadn’t faced another night staring into Hinako’s twisted expression. No, the dream was wonderful. He was happy. He was in love. He was just… himself. As he rolled over in his sheets, he couldn’t tell if it was the longing that made him cry, or the guilt of longing so deeply for something like that.
It was easier, there in the dark. He didn’t have to keep his cheeks raised in a pleasant look. He didn’t have to hold his chin high. He could hug his arms around himself, not worry about all those eyes on him, and cry for the life he would never have.
He’d kept the thoughts at bay for so long, there was something equally painful and relieving about facing them head-on. The more his body shook with sobs, the better he felt about the weight he’d been carrying on his shoulders. The more he thought about who he was, the worse he felt about being doomed in this life. As always, he was split in two.
“K-Kazui?”
His stomach clenched in both shock and shame. He kept his face away from the cell bars. He coughed, though it did little to hide the thickness in his voice when he spoke. “Haruka? What are you doing out there?”
“Ah, um! I’m sorry! I was just getting s-some water.”
Kazui desperately scrambled for any kind of excuse to explain the sorry state he was in. Haruka continued, though.
“It’s- it’s okay if you’re crying.”
His throat squeezed. How pathetic he must be, for a kid like Haruka to try and comfort him.
“No, no. I’m alright.”
“I cry in my cell all the time. And Muu comes in so we can talk. I feel m-much better after that.” His feet shuffled outside. “Do you… uh… do you want to talk? I’m not as smart as Muu, b-but it might help.”
Kazui kept his pained smile hidden. It was an incredibly kind gesture, to be sure, but the boy would never understand. He could open up about everything that had happened in the past forty years, and there was no way Haruka would understand a bit of it.
It was easy to dodge the question. When under the spotlight, he’d found it was helpful to place the attention on someone else. “What do you talk to Muu about?”
“Uh! Well.” There was more shuffling, and Kazui realized he was coming to sit right next to the cell. He hadn’t meant it as an invitation to stay...
He rolled onto his back, hoping his face was still obscured in the shadows of the panopticon.
“I usually cry because… I’m not like everyone else.” Haruka said. “I don’t-don’t know why. I don’t know why everyone else can be normal and I j-just can’t. I try so hard. I try so hard. If I could be like them, m-maybe my mom would’ve loved me. M-maybe she wouldn’t think I was broken all the time. M-maybe,” he got quiet, “no one would have died.”
Kazui stared up at the ceiling. A few more tears slipped down his face. It looked like an old man like him could still be wrong, now and then. “And… what does Muu tell you, to comfort you?”
“Oh, she tells me lots of nice things. Mostly that she loves me very much.” Kazui could hear the smile in his voice. “And she also says that… that it wasn’t my fault. That there’s nothing wrong with being me. That we can’t be anyone d-different, even if we want to more than anything in the whole wide world. She says, she says people were mean to her too, just because of who she was.”
“Yeah?” The younger prisoners had avoided someone as intimidating as him, so he never heard much about Muu’s reason for being here.
“Mhm. She said they would say all these awful things, b-because there was this one girl in her class, and… and, well… things were…” Haruka stopped. “Ah! I didn’t mean to make you cry again! I’m s-so sorry…”
Kazui sucked in a shaking breath. “No, I’m sorry you have to hear all this from me. It’s good, though. It’s really good.”
“O-oh…?”
“I just realized, I’m a lot like that too.”
Kazui didn’t know what possessed him to continue. He’d been hiding things for so long, he thought he’d be better at keeping it in. It must have been something about the darkness of the hour, and Haruka’s complete innocence, and the dream that still lingered around heart.
“When I was her age, there was someone in my class like that. He was… well, I’m sure you know. My parents also said I was in need of fixing. I’m sorry you had to go through that too.”
Haruka let out a small sound of acknowledgement.
“You should head to bed, now. It’s late.”
“R-right. Sorry, again!”
“Don’t be. I think I needed this.”
Once Haruka’s footsteps had rounded the panopticon, Kazui brought his arm up to cover his eyes. He knew he had plenty of blood on his hands for what he’d done. This was his fault. But regarding who he was…
A sound rocked through his chest, something between a sob and a laugh. It was nice to think there was nothing wrong with that, after all.
#milgram#kazui mukuhara#haruka sakurai#wahh thank you so much :D that made my day to hear!! and this request was so cool to think about#(i read the translation day one but) this motivated me to actually listen to his new vd because i we finally hear some emotion from him ;-;#it made me just as sad as i was expecting adfsdf ;---;#i kept trying to write him opening up to someone willingly but it just wouldnt work#(i mean he IS on trial for murder and begging for es to reveal the truth but he still cant say it himself)#so i think itd take someone else opening up first -- once he sees theyre genuinely putting themselves out there for him#hed be able to reciprocate and talk/show his emotions#i know muu/rei isnt canon but even a misunderstanding about it would be important to him#<- made herself sad realizing so much of the cast has been treated as broken or like their true selves werent good enough#but yeah it was really interesting seeing how much overlap kazui and haruka had!#ive got another kazui thing coming today/tomorrow -- now go vote this sad wet cat innocent he fuckin needs it👏#drabbles
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Byler Week Day 1 Cleradin/DnD
I posted this some time ago but I changed a lot of things and I wanted to share with everyone
💛💙
My boy
Mike and Will are in love. Of course they are. Since a long time ago. And after many years of relationship, they still feel the same. It's not that hard to feel the same. Because they're Mike and Will.
In one weekend, they are seated on the couch in their little apartment, and they decide to leave it to make a little trip to Hawkins. They always visit their parents and friends but this time is different. Mike is feeling something different.
So they pack all their D&D stuff, their luggages and get in the car. Mike puts some music and starts singing while driving. He looks at Will every time he can. How could he not?
"I guess... YOU'D SAY!" Mike sings and moves his hand into Will's direction as if it was a microphone. "What can make me feel this way... MY BOY"
Will just rolls his eyes and laughs, thinking "Why do I have to be completely in love with THIS man?" But he can't help joining him singing and Mike just continues driving, because he loves driving with Will by his side, even when they're singing like idiots.
When they get to the city, they go directly to Mike's house.
In all their other trips to Hawkins, Mike didn't want to go to his basement. He had good memories of the place, but the bad memories, the memories of what he went through when Will moved to Lenora were still stronger, they were more recent. And Will knew, but he didn't want to pressure Mike about it, so they always stayed in Mike's room or at Luca's or Dustin's to play D&D.
But Mike wants to try this time. He wants to turn that place into a happy place again. Because it was once. For him, and he know that it was for Will and his friends too.
So he just stands up in front of his basement door and keeps staring at it. Suddenly he is nervous. Will walks to him and holds his hand. Mike looks up at him, startled by his action and he watches his boyfriend smiling at him.
"You want to go in?" Will says, trying to give him a little bit of courage.
"Yeah... I guess so." Mike tries to smile back at Will.
"I'm here with you, you're not alone. You know that, right? We're doing this together!" Will says, bringing Mike's hand close to his face and giving a gentle kiss in its back.
"Crazy together?" Mike asks with his eyes full of water. He doesn't want to cry, but it's hard not to. He gives Will a smile, even if he's still a little apprehensive.
"Crazy together..." Will replies, still looking at Mike, and in the next moment, their hands are together in the door handle.
They open it together and go in. Will observes the place. "Wow, these are still here..." He walks near the wall and touches some of his old drawings that are suspended on it.
"Yeah... I think 99% of my basement is you. Not the messy part of course, but yeah..." Mike says, chuckling.
Will looks at the mess and he feels guilty about it. He knows Mike missed him and that he suffered a lot years ago, but he didn't understand the dimension of the situation until now. "I'm sorry... for everything. We're gonna clean this up and it's going to be exactly like before."
"Hey... you don't have to apologize! Never! It was not your fault. I didn't know how to deal with my own bullshit, I did this to myself. I pushed you away and I think I never really forgave myself for that..." Mike let the tears that were still stuck in his eyes fall.
"Do you still feel this way about yourself?" Will walks and stops in front of him, feeling awful for that, and cups his cheeks.
"Yeah... it was the most painful time of my life and I was a shitty friend to you, I made you suffer too... it was all my fault! And I knew what I felt for you, but it was so hard to be... different. I just... I didn't know what to do." Mike cries and Will just approaches him, letting Mike fall in his arms.
Will lets Mike cry. Mike almost never cries. Will knows he needs that. But after some minutes, Mike stops and Will notices it. "Hey!" Will holds Mike's chin up, softly. "That was not your fault, okay? We were kids, the world was and still is messed up and we didn't know what to do. You were trying to figure things out, just like me. But in your own way, of course. I've also pushed you away, and I felt terrible about it. But everything is ok now. We're together! You don't have to feel this guilt. I know it's hard, but it's gonna be okay... I'm here and... and I love you!" Will dries Mike's tears with his thumb and then he holds Mike's cheeks while touching their foreheads.
"I love you too!" Mike says, looking at Will's eyes.
"So... let's clean it!!!" Will steps aside and grabs a broom that was behind the door. "This one is for you" He throws the broom in Mike's direction.
"What?" Mike laughs but Will doesn't answer and starts to take some of the garbage to throw away. He turns up the radio and starts dancing while cleaning the place. Mike just melts with the view.
Even if it hurts sometimes, even if they have to stop a few minutes so Mike can breath and take a look at some stuff, they do it. They spend all afternoon cleaning the basement. And Will is there, he's always there for him.
When it's over, Mike looks amazed. "Well, I missed that..."
"Me too!" Will smiles at him. "But there's something missing... I'll come back in a minute!" He makes a funny face and goes upstairs.
Mike takes a look at the basement. He takes a deep breath. It's hard, but the pain is not like it was before. He is surprised with the fact that he can smile again in this place.
Will appears and he's carrying their D&D stuff. Mike can't help himself but smile from ear to ear. Will puts the stuff on the table and starts to set up the game board. He sits on the floor and look up to Mike. "Hey, come here with me!" And Mike sits beside him.
"Okay... cool! Um, you wanna play? "Mike questions him. He's almost trembling. He really wants to know Will's answer. As if it isn't obvious. As if Will would ever deny this to him.
"I'd love that!" Will says it with a soft voice and holds Mike's hands. "Okay, let's do it!"
"OH MY GOD!!!" Mike screams and then jumps.
"What happened???" Will gets startled, but also laughs in confusion.
"If we want to do this, we need to do it right!!!" Mike looks thrilled for the first time in the evening. Like a paladin, a knight in shining armour. And Will looks up to him in awe.
"What is it?" Will asks, curious, but Mike doesn't answer, he just gets up and goes in the direction of his closet.
He opens the door and smiles. "That's it!" He picks up Will's cleric costume that was still hidden there and closes the door in a hurry, making the door slam and Will opens his mouth in surprise.
"Wow, I think I haven't seen this in like... more than 10 years, maybe 15, I guess? You really kept it there!!"
"How could I not?" Mike says and little does Will know that Mike looked at his costume every single day in that summer. "So... I don't think it's going to fit you anymore, you've really grown up and..." Mike takes a look at him from head to toe, getting hypnotized for a moment. Will laughs with embarrassment, taking him out of trance and Mike gets a little shy, and even if they know they're in a relationship for years, and they're best friends, there are still some things that make them blush, but he continues. "But anyways, you have to try it on!"
While Will tries to dress up, Mike takes a shield of his closet.
"I DON'T BELIEVE WHAT I'M SEEING!" Will starts laughing and jumping like a ten year old kid. "You don't use this since you were like eight or something... you always thought you looked embarrassing."
"That's just not true!" He raises his brows but he gives up. "Yeah... that's true, but I was an idiot, I don't care about this anymore, you know that..."
"Yeah, and I think it is the cutest thing ever!" Will points at his shield. "That's why I draw it for you..." His cheeks start getting red. "The heart, in that painting..." and Mike thinks he's cute. Even more now because he has his cleric hat on.
"You're the cutest thing ever, Will the wise!" Mike touches Will's nose with his fingertips and they laugh to each other.
They sit around the table but Will gets up again and Mike is confused.
He opens all the drawers trying to find something, until he finds a paint brush, a red and a yellow paint. "I knew it was somewhere here!" He kneels and turns into Mike's direction.
Mike is holding his shield and Will takes his paint brush and opens the can of paint. He starts making his art in the shield. He draws a big heart in it and on the top of the heart, he paints a crown, like he did in that painting years ago. He puts his tongue out of his mouth and bites it while almost closing his eyes in concentration and Mike finds it adorable. When Will finishes, he puts his tools in the table and cleans his hands in his pants.
"Okay, done!" He sits again and puts his index finger on Mike's chest. "You're the heart! You've always been... the heart of the party, of course, but also my heart!"
Will's eyes are shining. They always shine, but this time, they were even brighter, and Mike feels like he's never been so happy before. Mike's heart is overflowing with love, and he knows that he wants this for the rest of his life. And now Mike understands what he was feeling earlier. That different feeling. They lock eyes for a minute and Will frowns, puzzled.
Mike spills out "Let's start a new party, you and me..."
And Will laughs. "Well... we're doing that, right? We're gonna play?"
"No!" Mike always screams* "No, no, not like that... it's just. You and me?"
"Umm, yeah?" Will asks and when Mike doesn't respond he continues. "What are you talking about, Mike?"
Mike stands up, just to take Will's hand and make him stand up too. Then he kneels in front of his boyfriend.
"Will you be my cleric for the rest of our lives?"
"OH MY GOD, MIKE, WHAT???" He screams in surprise but then he can't help but tease Mike. "Are you asking me to... marry you?"
"Well... if you see it that way" Mike smirks at Will.
And Will just stares at him, still shocked, but when he watches Mike looking at him, with that big dark eyes, hesitant, still waiting for the answer, he laughs, with tears in his eyes.
Well... And he said yes. He said yes. And Mike thinks it was the best thing he's ever done.
That's it. Some fluffy Byler stuff. (And I'm sorry about the mistakes!!!!!)
@cluelessbees tagging you here because the song was your idea and I had to give the credits because YES!!! hehe
And tagging @morganee @notebooknonbinary @que3rduckling @hynts @elmoshipsbyler @strangerartist @atombstone because you gave me courage to post it after the Watch Party hahaha and @basiltonpitch because you left the Watch Party earlier and I wanted to show it to you too!!
#bylerweek2023#Day 1 Cleradin/DnD#byler#will byers#mike wheeler#byler ficlet#cleradin#byler endgame#byler tumblr#byler nation
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Rookie swap au oneshot, ft. Sam
⚠️⚠️//Absent fathers/Mentions of Neglect
Why don't you celebrate Fathers Day?
Those words hit him like a semi truck speeding by, unable to stop seeing the deer on the road. Jackson turned back to the little girl, who stared up at him with curious eyes. He felt a cold sweat, but acted calm and collected.
He was told by Sally that Lightning had gone and left earlier that morning to visit the graveyard. Their daughter Sam overheard the conversation and asked to come with him to go check up on Lightning.
Their walk was mostly quiet, with the occasional small talk here and there. Then, she brought up the date today, with Jackson accidently mentioning how he doesn't celebrate Fathers Day. He knew she didn't mean to, she was only a child, but her question made Jackson swallow a gulp.
"What do you mean?" He asked appearing nonchalantly, hands shoved into the pockets of his jeans. Sam shrugged, letting out a small hum.
"Well, on Fathers Day, everyone's doing something special for their dad. Like like- Uncle Ramone and Auntie Flo have special Fathers Day stuff. Uncle Guido and Uncle Luigi like to send gifts and letters to their papas. Granpappy and Grandmommy are coming to have dinner with us later. And then, I made something for Papa. And Papa is visiting Granddad right now!" She smiled, holding onto her basket full of treats. Jackson nodded, yet kept silent, preferring to listen to her rambles instead. Though, Sam turned back to him, tilting her head.
"What about you? Do you have something special to give your dad?"
"Uh." He didn't. He had no reason to after all. The old man practically disowned him once he dropped out of college to pursue racing, and hasn't bothered to contact him since. Even then, the gifts Jackson had given to him were most likely just sitting in cardboard boxes in one of their many mansions somewhere, collecting dust and spiderwebs.
Though, he did have something in his pocket he's been itching to give to someone, he just didn't have the time to. But, why would he give it to him though? After all, he's already someone else's dad. And, would he even return the sentiment..?
"Jackson? Sam?" They both looked up and saw Lightning, who sat right by a gravestone. The plaque read the name 'Jesse Paul Hudson'.
'Oh. We're here now.'
"Papa!" Sam ran over to her dad, throwing her arms around him as he pulled her into a tight embrace. "Happy Fathers Day!"
"Hey kiddo!" Lightning laughed, glad to see his daughter make it here. Sam pulled away and set the basket down. She fished out a bouquet of flowers and set it down Doc's grave.
"Happy Fathers Day too, Granddad!"
Of course, Doc couldn't answer, but Lightning knows his ghost is smiling down upon the little girl. At least, he believes so.
"I made this for you too, Papa!" Sam grinned, handing him an envelope. Lightning opened it up, finding a messy drawing of the piston cup, but instead of the usual text, it read '#1 Dad ever!!!' instead.
Lightning let out an audible 'aww' and pulled his daughter into a hug. "I love it. Thank you, Sam."
A small smile appeared on Jackson's lips, though conflicting emotions clashed in his head as he watched the two. Lightning and Sam let go of the hug, as the former turned back to Jackson, who lingered just a bit away.
"So, uh, Jackson. Were you looking for me to train with? I'm sorry. I have other plans for today."
Jackson waved a hand dismissively. "Eh, it's fine, Champ. I just don't have anything else to do. " he bit his lip, glancing away. He wasn't sure if he was welcomed here. "I uh, I could go if you want. Yanno, leave you guys to do your stuff..."
Lightning shook his head, "It's fine. Take a seat. We could talk about stuff you could work on if you'd like." He gestured to the spot next to him, patting the delicate patch of grass.
So Jackson decided to stay with them. It was strange. He believed Lightning just invited him to stay because he felt bad for the guy, but Jackson enjoyed this company. Really, he wished he had these kinds of lax conversations with his old man growing up.
At first, they talked about strategies and plans for the next race, improvements Jackson could make, but then it evolved into Lightning's relationship with Doc. How he missed him, and hope he's doing him proud.
"He was like a dad to me. He was there when mine couldn't be..." Lightning sighed, rubbing the back of his neck.
Jackson hummed, finding himself nodding along. "...yeah. I get what you mean."
Lightning turned to him, taking notice of that solemn look upon Jackson's face. It was a look Lightning was oh so familiar with. The look of yearning for approval, wanting to please someone but never felt good enough.
His attention was promptly stolen by Sam, who tugged on the sleeve of his jacket. "Papa, what do you mean your dad wasn't there for you?" She asked.
"Well sweetie, there are times where the dad who brought you into this world can't look after you as best they could... And sometimes, you look towards someone else to well, basically be your dad in his place."
Lightning noticed that sudden look of concern from his daughter. "But! I'd never leave you the way my dad left me." He glanced towards Jackson, adding, "I promised myself I'd never make that mistake. I won't let either of you down..." He pulled Sam into a hug, the little girl practically clinging onto him. Jackson felt stunned.
Those words... 'Either of them'... Was he talking about Sam and Doc? Or was he talking about...
Jackson was pulled from his thoughts when he saw the two of them standing up. "Alright. I think it's time we headed back." He picked up his daughter, who giggled as she was placed upon his shoulders. "Jackson, could you get the basket?"
Jackson nodded, stretching his legs as he stood up and picked up their things. The three walked back towards town, down the dusty trail.
"Hey Jackson."
"Mhm..?"
Lightning gave him a soft smile, uttering the words Jackson never thought he'd ever hear. "I'm proud of you, kid."
Jackson felt a pang in his heart. He felt shaken, wanting to cry. But he didn't, and instead, rolled his eyes, fishing out a small blue envelope from his pocket. He handed it over to Lightning, not meeting his eyes.
"Happy Fathers Day, McQueen..." He said, his cheeks coated in a faint red from embarresment.
Lightning's eyes lit up in surprise, but surprise turned to happiness, and honestly, a sense of pride.
In many ways, McQueen hopes he continues to make Doc proud. Whether it be through racing, through taking care of his family, and now, he hopes he does him well looking after the rookie the same way Doc did for him.
#pixar cars#cars fandom#pixar#lightning mcqueen#humanized cars#jackson storm#sam mcqueen#🌌🖌️#cars rookie swap au#💛🔄🖤#alright! it's here- and completed-#🌌✍️#🌌⚠️
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Testing the Waters - Teen!Andy Barclay x (Fem)Teen!Winchester Reader
Continuation of “Child Soldiers in a Secret War “
Word Count 1.8 K
Warnings: Same warnings applying to the previous oneshot.
Summary: The hunt is about to begin and you try your best to get Andy ready. Struggling to not reveal all you know on the matter after a misterious accident happens on the same day of a Good Guy sighting, you play it safe by betting on getting the boy’s help.
Notes: This one may not be the fic i’m the most proud of, but a friend of mine enjoyed it a lot so i decided to write a continuation.
Tags: @losersclubisms (It’s because of you that i continued it and, since you said you enjoyed the reader’s personality, here you can see it shine a bit more)
Sargent Clark was the first victim of your strategy to deal with authority. Despite being as severe as anyone else, you were testing it on him and it was getting good results. To the eyes of all of those militars you were probably nothing more than a little punk, pretty much like Barclay, but getting some respectful laughs out of the right persons proved to be useful.
“ Yes, Winchester. I have something for you this time.” The amused but fed up man declared as soon as he saw you. “ Seems like it’s the new kids’ lucky day. The Barclay boy got one too.”
You were attentive to the mention of Andy.
“ Do you want me to deliver it to him, sir? You don’t have to bother personally when I can save that tribulation from you.”
You could feel the old dude was holding a chuckle.
“ Vocabulary improvements! Very well, miss.” He mocked you, comparing that to the first bad taste comments he heard you say at the arrival. “ It will not be necessary, I got Tyler on it.”
The big package was the perfect size and shape to be carrying your precious load: the enemy. Suspecting of every big package meant for Andy was perhaps a stretch, but you preferred to be careful than sorry. Your job there was to guard him with your life, him and everyone there even if around eighty five percent of them were high profile dickheads. The search for Tyler didn’t reach a good outcome and you were clearly not thinking if you were considering facing Chucky without a plan. The boys sent you whatever they could in the hurry. It was a full but mixed set of various elements, since you weren’t sure what the hell you were fighting. Among a few other things it included a dark dust-like thing assured to be used in hoodoo rituals, refills of holy water and rock salt bullets and a page with a detailed draw of Damballa’s symbol alongside some more ritualistic information they managed to gather. You haven’t figured out yet how to use all of that into an effective attack, but your own duty commanded you and you did your best.
Finding Andy and sticking with him was, technically, the wisest path. Chucky wanted him, it has always been like that, so if you wouldn't find that damn package and check what was on it the best was staying alert and keeping him close. For so, you went back with the unit knowing well that Shelton was going to give you hell for arriving late.
He was already too busy with your guarded boy, what you could see from afar, but you didn’t mind giving that asshole more work.
“ We must be swift as a coursing river” You began to sing as you were approaching, hoping that the intrusion would distract him and he would leave Andy alone. “ With all the force of a great typhoon… With all the strength of a raging fire. Mysterious as the dark side of the mooooonn”
Hell was about to be unleashed with you arriving late and singing the military training song from Disney’s Mulan.
“ WINCHESTEEER!!”
The rage screams of Shelton, despite meaning trouble, were beginning to feel like music for your ears. After Andy would be safe you would be out from there. You weren’t following a military career, so you had no reason to restrain yourself from messing with him at levels no one else would dare to reach.
“ Yes, sir?” A sweet, submissive tone that was absolutely ironical followed up as an answer.” Were you looking for me?”
Andy rolled his eyes. He liked you, he truly did, but he simply couldn’t understand why you would act like that all the time.
“ … You are LATE…” Shelton informed the obvious. “ HAVEN’T YOU HAD ENOUGH WITH YESTERDAY, YOU WAYWARD BITCH??”
Not bothered in the slightest, you kept the same level of irony displayed before.
“ I know, sir. I have a clock. Complications presented on the way, as us mortals can’t control the tribulations of destiny.”
That fancy sounding word was catchy in your mind, so you kept it.
“ WHERE THE HELL WERE YOU??”
You deviated your stare for a brief instant, checking on Andy, then delivered a mastermind of comedy line that was going to sentence you in favor of him.
“ I was shaving my lady parts, just in case Sergeant Botnick’s trichophilia ever reaches crazy levels since he can’t trim all the hair off from ladies’ heads.”
The ingenious ‘ mind your own business’ comeback surpassed your previously settled limits, you were getting sharper with each confrontation. At that point you had zero fucks to give, Chucky could be already out there and dealing with him was your mission.
It could also be said that you enjoyed yourself a little bit because those sorts of intromissions would never fail in getting Andy's attention. Right then you needed it for case reasons, but in other opportunities you didn’t have as many valid excuses for that. You would lie to yourself, convinced it was part of winning his trust so he would cooperate on the hunt, but you actually wanted him to look at you because you liked him. it was not your intention to compete over him with Da Silva, but you were shameless enough to overcome her limits to make him laugh. Joking was your way of bonding and she would often laugh with you, which showed there were not necessarily hard feelings between you despite you were fancying the same boy. Shelton had it against you both and that was a powerful unifying patron.
He couldn’t wait to firm your death sentence, but got interrupted by someone else’s. The whole unit ended up arriving at a murder scene and a very shocked Andy was thinking exactly the same thing as you.
As soon as you both were relatively free you attempted to encourage Andy of talking about the problem through a walk around the place leading to some isolated point of the school ground.
" You are a smart guy, Andy. I'm not gonna tell you what we gotta do..." You were saying to him regarding the confusing episode... " Let's get down to business, to defeat that doll...."
"Enough with that song. " He complained. " Do you like to make fun of other people's trauma?
" I make fun of my own trauma, you should be aware of that by now. How many daddy issues jokes have I told you since we met? "
It was a fair point, but he was still annoyed.
" Do you ever take anything serious?"
" I am being serious. I saw a package, you saw a doll and now that man is dead. It can't be a coincidence."
" Why do you care?"
Telling him at that point that the Play Pals CEO was dead and you knew it the whole time was not an option.
" Because I was sent from a future where Chucky kills you and rules the world. I have to protect the last leader of the human resistance at a time where he was still a whiny teen asking too many questions. I took the shape of another whiny teen so it wouldn't look awkward."
The plot of Terminator, Andy didn't want to laugh but couldn't help it.
" Listen, regardless if you want to accept it or not, Chucky is back. You can choose denial and die, or help me fight."
"What do you plan to do, throw some white flour at him?" He mocked you, not meaning to offend but showing how unprepared he judged you. " Your kitchen based remedies are not going to stop him. "
" Then tell me how he stopped the last two times. " You complained, insisting on the matter. " You are Mulan and I am your Mushu. I tricked my way into becoming your guardian because all the others were unavailable, now together we can still save China."
" Thanks, but I don't want more people involved in this. " He politely declined. " if he is out there, the best would be for me to deal with him on my own. "
You rolled your eyes, it was such a Dean attitude on his part that you simply couldn't help yourself.
" Fine...whatever." You pretended to agree while letting him know you were disagreeing and absolutely going to work on that behind his back. " By the way... Do you think there is a chance that the tricophilic asshole may have some of your hair saved somewhere? I mean, that guy is a hair obsessed sadistic weirdo. "
The ask weirded him, but he mindlessly answered anyway.
" I don't think so, hair may be sold or end up in the garbage."
" Shit! Alright, this may work just fine. Please, extend your hand. "
Weirded but intrigued, Andy did as you asked, but the result was you making a superficial cut on his hand and making him bleed all over a piece of paper.
" What the fuck is wrong with you?"
" Voodoo life insurance. " Was your vague explanation. " Keep the paper close, don't let Chucky take it. "
The cluelessness in his face forced you to go further.
" Look at the symbol in the paper, i copied it from some autentic shit. This is an improvised way of consecrating you to Damballa. If Chucky's boss has you on his radar he can't kill you without facing the remote possibility of pissing him off."
You could tell he was freaking out.
" What did YOU just do to ME?? "
" Relax, the protection ends if you destroy the paper because you are not baptized into the religion."
" I don't know where you get all of this stuff, but you are missing the point. Chucky has never tried to kill me, he wants to possess me and for that he needs me alive."
" I'm testing the waters, ok? I have no idea how to fight this thing. " You defended yourself. " Honestly? It is so exciting. He is not a paranormal race of monsters, so there are no rules already created on him. We can have lots of fun trying to figure out what hurts him or perish doing so because nothing of what I already know works... Isn't that fascinating? I feel like a biologist discovering a new species."
" What can I do to end this conversation? "
" Tell me how to beat Chucky your way so I can strengthen mine. " You asked once more. " Or, if you were smarter, you could also be shutting me up with a kiss and giving me no info."
The idea got him a little nervous.
" Fine, I will share what I know. "
You teased him by acting out disappointment.
" I was almost sure that you were stubborn enough to pick the kiss."
One of the most important facts that you got and couldn't possibly deduce from some police report was Chucky's preference for surprise attacks after nightfall. You wandered the school in the middle of the night, making a secret watch while being careful no superior would catch you. The first theory you were going to test was the límits of the catholic syncretism present on voodoo regarding what could be used to fight. If Damballa was sometimes being iconographically represented and worshiped as Saint Patrick, holy water had to work on Chucky as fine as the catholic imagery would suggest.
#child's play#child's play 3#supernatural#andy barclay#andy barclay x reader#andy barclay x winchester reader#justin whalin
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Cat and Mouse
I’m back! Another short entry; but I’m sure it will still be delightful~ :DDDDD
Anyway, my thoughts: a pleasure to reread, especially in putting William’s grumbles and Winslow’s abrasiveness in better contexts, having gotten to know the characters from the show. Love how Nan captures the littleness of “human” reactions without self-discipline, all ages, ranges, and stages of life. Cullen is really growing on me-- I already liked him from AWTN; but was a bit thrown by the series episode. Rereading is putting it all back together, in a way. Father is delightful even in his flustery, mother hen panicky concern. Vincent and his chessboard maneuvers-- with ‘Rat’ and the people Below alike-- are fascinating, especially knowing what else Nan is building on top of these moments. Vincent’s anger at feeling ‘separated’ from the people Below by his failure is really, really excellent of Nan to draw from, touch on, and further set up for future explorations.
Overall, highly enjoying myself-- and so is Sis (she is enjoying the experience more than the human drama; but that’s her typical schtick.Sis: “Hey, don’t get me wrong, I can get invested in human drama….”). And I am also highly enjoying taking her most extreme reactions, hyperbolizing them, and reading them back to her (Sis: “Yeah… they’re fun…” said with woeful sarcasm? “I dunno-- irony, maybe.”) And now, I shall transcribe Sis’s reactions:
““He resignedly scuffed on to the top of Father's stair, overlooking the study, which seemed empty. “Father? I'm sorry if I'm late, I—” “Vincent?” Father's voice brought Vincent's head up, and he located Father on the balcony, shoving off a stool and starting in great haste down the spiral iron staircase. “Vincent? Where on earth have you been?”” Sis: COOL YOUR JETS, OLD MAN. Let him live.” (We had a bit of banter here-- her Father’s stanship will last because she is invested enough to critique and still hold him as a favorite.)
She and I are having a brief tete a tete (Sis: “BUT WE ARE ALREADY HAVING A CONVERSATION-- it’s different than a tete a tete because--” and I lost the rest because she was talking a mile a minute) over Father’s parental worries-- she’s still salty about Devin-- but, overall, it’s entertaining for me to hear her ranting (“No, it’s not ranting, it’s not really ranting!” she rushes to assure me, after she calls it ranting.)
““You say you were hunting,” Father prodded. “The so-called rat, I presume? Did you...settle the matter?”” Sis was so highly amused she was cackling over Vincent going Street Fighter on a metaphorical rat.
I was describing these short stories as photos in an album to better illustrate why Father still has lessons to learn (on top of the other lessons he will ALSO learn in AWTN); and Sis threw in the idea that Diana is the third party that thinks all of this is messed up. We’re having a blast (Sis: “It’s about the friends we made along the way.”)
““Vincent, don't ever say that. You are not an animal.”” Sis: “Just try getting him to believe you. Obviously, that didn’t work.”
We briefly talked about Gabriel, and Sis made a crack about punching him amicably before both of us denied it because she doesn’t have amicable feelings towards Gabriel (Sis: “I’m not friends with him. He’s just a guy.”)
““...Vincent could sense only the tension and the anger, none of the love and relief they sprang from.”” and ““As the outer bruises faded, the inner ones went deeper, toward the heart, affecting Vincent's most basic sense of who he was and of what he was to everyone around him.”” are so key to Vincent’s journey in AWTN-- glad I caught it even more the second time around.
““Father patted at the air. “William, that's a matter of simple logistics--”” Sis’s mouth dropped open, imagining the numerous logistics: “Well then, you figure it out, Father!” I explained how Father would not be able to do so as well as William. She completely understood: “Oh, well, fine.”
““When Cullen's hand landed on his shoulder, he was so startled he nearly choked.”” THERE’S CULLEN STARTLING HIM AGAIN. Love whenever Cullen does that in the narrative.
Sis gave Part 2 a “thumbs up”-- she’s a self-described “click off” reader, meaning she reads, she likes, she clicks off. Her modus operandi. So a thumbs up is her way of expressing “yay” to the reading experience. (Yes, she does this to my stuff, too.)
Anyway, gotta shuffle off again! Will be back soon with the next installment~.
Hey! Sorry I didn't get to this sooner. Yesterday was cray-cray. I love reading yours and Sis's thoughts and the bantering you do while in the midst of your re-read. I really don't have anything to add to this except for one thing, below the cut...
““Vincent, don't ever say that. You are not an animal.”” Sis: “Just try getting him to believe you. Obviously, that didn’t work.”
Okay, but here's the thing, V is right: he is an animal. And he's much more cognizant of that fact than any of the people he lives amongst and loves. That's always been and will continue to be Father's absolute blind spot when it comes to his very unique son. There's no doubt F offers that belief to V out of deep love and respect for all the things V is that don't include "animal," but to deny that part of him is to refuse to accept the whole of the person - good and bad. And I think it's part of the reason V has such issues with his own sense of worthiness.
It's the same thinking that so many fans (especially Classic) have of Vincent: that he's this perfect man who just happens to have leonine features and enormous strength. But they're wrong, he's not just a man. He's very much other, and a large part of that is animal. And there's nothing wrong with that. Vincent is a singularly unique individual, a "creature who has never been."
I think one of the reasons Nan and I hit it off so well is because we shared the same beliefs about V. It's so easy to focus on the aspects of him that are the most admirable and relatable. But if you chose to ignore or disregard the truth of his otherness, then you do him a great disservice.
One of my favorite lines in the show ever, is one of Diana's and is, sadly, one that a lot of folks didn't or don't pay enough attention to. It not only goes a long way in explaining who she is and how she thinks, but it also strikes me as the perfect example of why she and V are such a perfect pairing. Because it proves that she'll be able to acknowledge and accept all of Vincent, and not just the parts that are the best of him.
"If all you’re willing to see is what you’ve seen before, you’re gonna miss half of what’s going on."
I'll leave you with that. 😊
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Yours Truly - Chapter 11: If I Whisper
・❥・Pairing: Elvis Presley x original female character
・❥・Genre: slow burn, mystery, angst, fluff.
・❥・Word Count: 7.5k (sorry!)
・❥・Summary: In which a 21-year-old girl suddenly finds herself having consecutive dreams of a particular rock ‘n’ roll star whom she has never met and who died 45 years ago.
・❥・ Ratings & Warnings: SFW. very angsty, but a lot of fluff too. But mostly angst.
chapter index | prev | chapter 12
--
"That guy with tears in his eyes and ghosts in his heart. He loved her, and you could see it." - Jamie Tworkowski
--
NOVA
Our footsteps brushed against the sidewalk, effectively resounding into the quietness of the desolate street. Boutiques, stores, and diners all wore the similar 'WE ARE CLOSED' sign on their doors. Unattended vehicles were fairly scattered, sitting empty along the curb. The night sky was void of the earlier presence of the sun, and in its place was the glow of the moon accompanied by the blanket of what I could only guess was an infinite of stars. To aid in fighting the inevitable darkness of nature, street lamps echoed circular bursts of light. One of which reflected perfectly on the man beside me, and I find myself gasping quietly. The blend of the natural and the artificial forms of light elevated his appearance. It may seem cliche to think, but I truly cannot believe how unreal he looks.
No wonder all those people have emphasised how even more gorgeous he was in real life, and how photos simply did not do him justice. I understand the chaos now, a chaos with reason. It makes me want to snap a photo of him, a way to mark a moment forever before it slips through my fingers like leaves in the wind. Not only because of his outer beauty, but this odd setting he is in. Someone such as himself, you see him in many photos always surrounded by a mass crowd of people. Always. Even in photos when it's only him alone - no, this is different. The Elvis that I see beside me is in such an open space, walking freely and it's so quiet, so unusual, so human.
But snapping a photo only holds possible in the real world, not in the dream world.
I attempt to shake myself out of my reverie, but it seems as if he has caught me and not even a second later, his lips quirk up into a smirk as he fully faces me now.
"Doll?" He says, a petname that so effortlessly rolls off his tongue, and my mind openly welcomes.
"I-I'm sorry. . . what were you saying?" I sputter out, hardly saving myself from his inevitable teasing response that I know he is bound to say.
He chuckles and shakes his head, "Am I boring you already, honey?" He teases.
In previous encounters with him, I would be apologising right away. But now I know him slightly better, I have become accustomed with Elvis' playful attitude. A direct contrast from the seriousness that I wear all the time.
I choose to play along and frantically nod, "Oh no, you've caught me, Aaron." I say, purposely dramatising my tone.
Elvis draws out a long, exaggerated sigh, "I guess I'll call a taxi and we say our farewells, Katerina." He looks down, giving the performance of a lifetime.
"Such a shame, the dance moves at the reception was a showstopper." I mused.
He slowly lifts his head back up and gazes at me, those deep blue eyes never failing to make me loose my balance just the slightest bit. He mirrors the smile spreading across my lips and shakes his head again, an unmistakable shade of red coloring his face. I couldn't help myself, and laughter escapes me inevitably.
Elvis groans, as he closes his eyes in embarrassment, "Aw, hell. Don't remind me!"
"Why not? You looked so cute."
As per any wedding reception, there is always the part where everyone stands up and go to the dance floor. Surprisingly, when others ushered Elvis to dance, I saw that hesitation in him and how quickly he declined the offer. Well, he couldn't entirely escape it and found himself joining in after all, but his body was almost awkward. I did find myself laughing at how adorable he looked, as he seemed to be mumbling something to himself the entire time - probably disbelief in himself that he is in that situation.
He opens his eyes and gazes me for a second, and not long after releasing a laughter of his own.
"I'm glad that you find joy in my misery," He says, the lightness in his tone proving that he is only joking.
I shake my head with an involuntarily smile pulling on my lips, "Your words, not mine." I throw many hands up in defence. Although it is only lighthearted joking around, I cannot help but recall his initial reaction when I brought it up. I don't want to loose myself in another train of thoughts, another one in which that I know he'll surely snap me out of. I seem to always find myself zoning out, and I've done it an embarrassing number of times already - I don't want him to think that I'm not paying attention to him. Zoning out and being too in my head, it's such a bad habit of mine, one that I know I'll definitely need to break.
So, I let my curiosity slip out my brain and into our topic of conversation.
"No, but really. I just didn't expect to see you like that at all." I admit, attempting to phrase my words out in a clear way, slightly hoping that he catches what I'm trying to say.
Elvis tilts his head and glances briefly at me, "Like what, doll?" His voice purely confused at my words.
"So hesitant to dance. I mean, from the videos I've seen of you performing. . . you always looked so confident and in your element. " I explain further, noticing myself use my hands to emphasise my words. Another habit of mine - I tend to talk with my hands, as if I'm in a theatrical piece, whereby every bit of dialogue involves gestures.
He sighs and for a moment I regret my words, but a small, shy smile appears on his face which eases my worries.
"When I'm on stage as Elvis Presley, my body can feel the music and just move. B-But me just as me, getting up to dance . . . I-It ain't easy." He shakes his head, his words slow and a slight stutter that I've never heard before from him. His azure eyes look into me, as if silently searching for assurance that I'm listening, as if there is a time limit hanging above my head indicating my patience. A patience that I truly know is insurmountable when it comes to him. It's the veins of curiosity that twists itself so easily around the human nature of: yes, I am listening, and I want to hear more about you. Please keep talking.
To my relief, he continues.
"I-I was a pretty shy kid. . . never sang in front of an audience, or anyone before that day I decided to. Never the popular one in school." His forehead knots, and I can almost see his brain reaching through the files of memories past. I don't fail to notice that for each word that he utters out of his mouth, his eyes would flicker briefly to my face and then he would continue.
I find myself gaping in disbelief as his confession, "Shy?"
He nods and chuckles, as he scratches the nape of his neck.
"That hard to believe, huh?" He says.
I nod, "Honestly, yeah. At first glance of your performances, no one would think that you are a shy. How did you break out of your shell?"
"I did for my mama. She believe in my singing and I always believed her. I took my best shot with it, and found it helped with getting my family out of poverty. It was all for them." He says, his voice quieter now, a softer tone. A tone that was such a shift from the confident and playful man that shows himself to me these past few encounters. Instead, with Elvis' eyes casted off into a distance, his tone is a glimpse of that little boy who wanted to help his family. The little boy who found a passion in music. The little boy who dreamed.
A pinch into my heart was evident. So selfless to take on such a huge responsibility at such a young age, and by his choice as well. He has always been a kind soul, and I'm grateful that the movie explored the humanity of him. . . but I wished they explored more of this.
"I'm happy you took the step. Your voice. . . the world deserved to hear it, and I'm glad that in exchange, you've got to help your family have a better life." I say, and refrain myself from saying but you also deserved to live longer.
Elvis faces me now, and I realise that we've stopped walking. We stand still, facing each other and the light from the street lamp reflects on his features so perfectly. His high cheekbones so prominent, along with the sharp jawline. The Elvis before me is his appearance from the late '60s I would say. It's strange, in each dream that I have, he is there. But it's always different versions of him. So far, it's been mostly '50s Elvis and now lately, it's been '60s Elvis. But then again, why would I question this when the entire situation is even more of a question mark itself.
Elvis smiles, "Yeah, It made me real happy to do that for them. Thank you for listening, Nova." He says softly, sincerity echoes through his face. Both of his hands reach out and clasped into mine. I smile at him, as I find myself gently squeezing his hands in reassurance.
A strong gust of wind fills the surroundings, its effect not going unnoticed by my bare arms. I shiver instinctively. Elvis quickly notices this, and takes his suit jacket off without a moment's hesitation, carefully draping it around my shoulders. I loop my arms into the sleeves, although it probably looks a little big on me.I feel my cheeks heat up at his close proximity, the scent of his cologne evade my senses strongly.
"Thanks." I manage to say, in a quiet voice.
"What kind of guy would I be if I let my girl freeze in this cold?" He grinned.
My girl.
I hear a distant sound of chimming and it happens again. I furrow my eyebrows, racking my brain to decipher what that could be. I look around our surroundings quizzically.
I know now. It's almost like a sound of a clock chime.
"Did you hear that?" I ask him.
Elvis' eyes widen slightly in what I can understand must be him thinking if there is any danger lurking by. He clears his throat and takes my right hand in his left, tucking both of our hands into his pocket. His body faces forward, the way it was when we were walking.
"I-It's getting colder, let's go." He simply says, his eyes removed from my gaze.
Before I could say anything else, he is hurried in his walking as he tugs me along with him.
"It sounded like a clock chime," I say, as his walk picks up in speed and turns into a run. I try to keep up with him, his hand tightly holding onto mine.
I'm unsure if he heard me.
--
It seems I have been proven wrong. Every other building on the street is closed, except for one. It just happens to be Miss Esther's cafe. It doesn't go unnoticed by me that there is no one else in the cafe, and why would there be really? it seems so late into the night, which does beg the question on why keep a cafe open at this hour? Such an odd thing my brain is creating for this dream.
Well, no one but Miss Esther herself who welcomed us with open arms. Literally. The friendly lady was quick on her feet to draw us both in a tight hug, and an enthusiastic smile upon seeing us both again. We both order hot cups of coffee, which brings us to the moment that we are right now. Elvis and I sat at a table right in the corner, which is safe to say the best choice as the warmth of the place quickly dissipated the cold temperatures of the outside. Unlike the previous time, the lights of the cafe were dimmed - a true indication that it is in fact the night hours.
"Thank goodness for this place, it got so cold so quickly." I say, as I take a sip from the mug of the hot beverage in my hands. It's taste and warmth, perfectly melting into my throat.
Elvis nods, "I second that."
Elvis places his coffee mug down and leans forward, "Another one crossed off your list? How are you feeling, baby?" He grins, that familiar southern drawl in his voice.
baby.
To save myself from dwelling on his close proximity, I attempt to subtly lean back against my chair to answer his question. Although the crashing of the wedding reception happened in my previous dream, it still astounds me to no end that I truly did that. At the start of this dream, I found myself walking with Elvis. Both of us still wearing the attire that we wore for the wedding reception. After waking up from the previous dream, my mind cannot help but replay how even in the crowded room full of people at the reception, his attention was on me and he kept asking me if I was okay. Yes, he pushes me to be braver, to try the unknown. But at the same time, he knows how set I am in my ways and reads me so well - easily seeing if I'm overwhelmed or not.
"It said 'party' on my list. Not wedding." I smile playfully, "But either way, it was something I've never done before. It was fun. . . surprisingly."
"See? It ain't so bad to cross the lines sometimes, Katerina." He muses, grinning at me.
There he goes again with my middle name.
"That's true. But I won't be crashing another wedding in the future." I chuckle with a shake of my head, as I prop my elbow on the table with my chin resting on my hand.
"Fair enough, honey. Some things in life, you only need to do once. Just to make you feel. . . a little crazy. We all need that feeling sometimes." His voice is quieter now, almost to the level of a whisper, as he smiles at me.
"Thank you for helping me." I say, almost feeling the words hard to get out of my mouth. It's strange, whenever he is so close to me and his voice is that gentle and quiet. It's so attentive and I feel that he is looking through me, like a pristinely transparent glass. As if to silently say with his eyes: Of course, I'm listening to you too.
He takes my left hand and plants a kiss on the top, all the while maintaining his piercing eye contact with me.
"I'll find a way. Always."
Such a small sentence, not even ten words and yet, my brain desperately clutches onto his words. A brief string of words that feel like they are spinning around in a carousel in my mind, and ultimately melting into the depths of my heart. And I guess, for once in my life, I have a feeling that the latter wins the key of keeping it close.
"Tell me something. . ." I begin after a while of silence.
He nods. Elvis absentmindedly draws invisible circles around the palm of my left hand, which does tickle a little, and soothes me at the same time.
"How do you know my middle name? It left me speechless when you dropped that out of nowhere." I chuckle.
There is a twinkle in his eye as he chuckles, "Lucky guess."
I roll my eyes as I shoot him a smile, "Of course. No one calls me by my middle name."
"Did you know that my middle name is Aaron?" He asks, clearly rhetorically.
"Yes. But that's not the same thing." I lean back against the chair again, feeling a little tired. But nonetheless, wanting to keep talking to him.
"How is it not?" He muses, clearly enjoying this.
"Everyone knows you. Well, knows your name."
He ignores my response and simply says, "Katerina is a very sexy name, I'll say."
Never have I ever heard my name pronounced like. . . that before. He said it a few times now, but this time, I feel he intentionally says it in such a. . . certain way. The way that my name rolls of his tongue in such a way - it makes my cheeks heat up involuntarily.
I clear my throat and try to avoid his eyes, "Thanks. Aaron is a cool name too."
He laughs at my flustered expression, clapping his hands.
"Oh my, I hear a lot of laughter. I do hope that he is not annoying you, sweet Nova." Miss Esther appears, walking closer to us with her hands on her hips.
"I haven't done nothing wrong, Ma'am. " Elvis shakes his head, joking along.
Miss Esther narrows her eyes at him, but with a smile on her face, "Hmm. You better not do. I need your help, I can't seem to reach the box from the highest shelf in the kitchen. " She explains.
Elvis doesn't hesitate to stand up, "Okay."
Miss Esther smiles and pats him on the shoulder, "Thank you, sweetheart. "
Elvis turns back to me, "Honey, will you be alright here while I go help Miss Esther?"
I nod, "I'll be fine, go."
"Besides, you'll be doing all the work whilst I take a seat right here and hang out with Nova." Miss Esther chuckles at him, easily taking the seat across from me.
"Alright, no bad tales about me Miss Esther." He jokes, and I feel that he wanted to say something more but he stops himself. Instead, he confirms to Miss Esther about which box it is, and makes his way into the kitchen.
"It's nice to see hear him laugh and smile, dear." She says.
"Yeah, he loves to joke a lot and teases me all the time. He's a complete contrast to how I am." I shake my head, chuckling.
"I'm afraid I haven't been clear with my words," Miss Esther replies, smiling apologetically at me.
I tilt my head, "What do you mean, Miss Esther?"
She sighs,"Elvis is a nice boy. But from the moment I met him, the boy was anything but a jokester. Determined, yes. But very down. It made me worry an awful lot from time to time."
Of course, from my knowledge from the movie, Elvis' life was filled with it's fair share of trails tribulations - but I thought that coming into the afterlife, a sense of peace would replace such a heartbreaking emotion. Well, that is if he is from the afterlife. If my theory is correct, then Elvis is from the afterlife and is visiting my dreams. This is the only plausible explanation. . . right?
"Down?"
Miss Esther nods in confirmation, "Very. But ever since. . . you. . . I have never seen him so much as frown no longer. It's a good change. You are good together. " Her voice is warm and sincere, a bright smile on her face.
I offer her a kind smile back.
A thought enters my mind. Should I or should I not?
"Miss Esther, can I ask you something?"
She nods, "Yes, of course."
"When we first met you told me something. You told me that Elvis was looking for me, and you thought that he told me about that. But he's difficult with answering questions. So secretive. I. . I guess I just want to know what you meant by that?" I find myself lowering my voice, fiddling my fingers nervously.
I see a flash of hesitation in her eyes and she sighs deeply, "I'm afraid I can't help you with that, sweetheart. I'm sorry. My answers will not offer you anything helpful."
"Please, just anything." I plead, "I-I've been having these dreams back to back, every night. They continue on one after the other and I just want to know why."
She sighs,"Sometimes good things are not as simple. It is not the simple case of why and how, but trust me answers will come to you when the time is right. Okay?" She says, putting a delicate finger underneath my chin as she smiles.
I feel defeated by her response, but I can feel that she is genuine with her words.
Instead, I sigh and whisper back, "Okay."
Before any further conversation can continue, Elvis returns and tells Miss Esther that the box is now on the kitchen counter. He inquires on what our topic of conversation was, in which Miss Esther replies that we've been talking about her secret recipes. I am grateful that she didn't reveal our true conversation to Elvis. But her words will ring a little longer in my brain. She is essentially saying to just go with the flow of things. But the rational part of my being is desperately screaming out against such a relaxed perspective. I've never been rollerblading toward letting happenstance being what it is. There is always a reason for everything that happens, and if it can be helped - I'd like to know that reason. But I suppose this time around, life is closing its doors to my logical tendencies and throwing the key away.
My eyes cannot help but glance at the black and white photographs of Hollywood actors, presumably from the '50s and '60s, adorning one wall of the cafe. A few I can easily recognised and others not so much.
"I like what they did with the wall." I comment.
Elvis smiles, "I do too. The best of the best on there."
"Who's your favorite?" I asked, nodding to the wall of photographs.
I have a sense that I know his answer before he says it, well, in the movie Elvis mentions his admiration for James Dean a few times and how he wished to be as great as him in acting.
His eyes wander around and stay fixated to a photograph of James Dean, "A real great actor. It's shame he died so young. " Elvis shakes his head, "I remember starting out in Hollywood, wishing and hoping that I'd become a serious actor like him. I wanted to do good movies that told a really good story. Script after script, I-I knew then that my hope was impossible. I fell sick, mentally and violently ill from all that. . ." He looks at me now, shaking his head and blue eyes watery now.
I frown, "Oh, Elvis."
"Thirty-one movies later and I knew that this folks in town laughed at me. 'Course I knew. I-I just wanted to make one good picture I could be proud of, before I went." His words breathe harder into the air now, as he closes his eyes shut and his fingers pinching the bridge of his nose.
It pains me to see that even now, those wounds still remain fresh to him. A whole decade of his life was dedicated to movies. It's such a shame that people did not see his passion, that did not help him reach his potential. It's that battle with creativity, a hunger to express himself and others around him did not see him like that. They made their decisions about him before they even knew him. It's a treacherous feeling that seeps into me, and I find myself biting down on my lip - feeling like tears might escape me.
He opens his eyes and chuckles bitterly, "I was a joke."
I find myself leaning forward and taking his hand into mine, "Hey, don't be saying that about yourself. I'm sorry that you didn't get what you deserve because you deserved so much more, Elvis. You had so much more to offer to the table and I wished people saw that. . . saw you."
He is silent for a moment and takes a deep breath, "Thank you, Nova. It matters a whole lot that you see me."
A smile slowly pulls on his lips as I smile at him, hoping to lift up the mood.
"Why don't you ask me?" I say, arching a teasing eyebrow.
"Ask about what?" He looks at me confused.
"Who my favorite actor is?" I muse.
Elvis chuckles suddenly, as if I just dropped an inside joke.
"I don't need to, doll. I have a feeling that I already know." He smirks, confidence oozing from him.
"Fine, go on then." I entertain his confidence.
"Grace Kelly." He replies casually, not a hint of doubt in his voice.
I gasped in shock, "How'd you know that?"
Another one of the many things that he knows about me. I should not be surprised anymore at this point, but I can't help but be every time he so casually slips information about me. Information that is so personal, that only my family and closest friends would know about. But I guess in dreams anything is possible, no matter how cliche it may sound. But then again, if he is visiting from the afterlife, then that means he is real which then furthers the question on how he knows all of this about me?
Elvis casually shrugged with a smirk, "Lucky guess, honey."
"Uh-huh, sure." I say, obviously unconvinced.
Elvis is about to say something more, but he stops himself. He turns around and looks out the wide glass window of the cafe. I follow his gaze and it seems to the that the cold temperatures have now been accompanied by heavy showers. Droplets of water cascade rapidly down the glass, it's sound unmistakable. The clouds above seem to be releasing an increase of the torrent rain, as the violent downpour continues on - until you could quite literally hear it hitting the roof of the cafe.
"Come on, let's go." Elvis says, turning back to me as he stands up.
I find myself standing up, "Go where?" I ask, quite a rhetorical question I believe.
Elvis only shoots me a mischievous grin, confirming my suspicion.
My eyes go wide as I attempt to tug myself out of his hold, "Oh no. Nope. "
"Why not?"
I gestured at the outside, "Are you seriously asking me that? It's horrific."
"It won't last long."
"What if I get sick?" I reason out, panicking now.
But of course my rational nature does not pair up with his way of spontaneity, "Then I guess I'll have to take of ya. You know, Dr. Presley." He winks.
"Elvis, I'm seriou-"
"Remember your list?" He tries again, he takes off his suit jacket from around my shoulders and places it neatly on the table.
And this time, I cannot counter back because I know he's right. I stupidly wrote on my list that I wanted to experience what it was like to just go crazy and have fun in the pouring rain. Like the ones you see in the movies, those cliche scenes.
I sigh and finally nod, he grins in triumph and tugs me along with him as we rapidly run out of the cafe. The moment we step foot outside, the strong rainfall hits my bare arms and I see Elvis turn around to face me and lets go of my hand. He closes his eyes shut and spreads his arms wide, the rapid precipitation hitting his entire being and he looks perfectly blissful. His yellow button-up gets stuck to his tanned skin in a matter of seconds, and I look down to find my dress heavily sticking to my skin too.
Elvis laughs out loud, his laugh encompassing the entire empty street.
"Ain't it incredible? Come here, darlin." He walks forward and grabs hold of my hand.
"This is crazy!" I exclaim, but find my lips spreading into a huge smile.
He suddenly grabs hold of my waist and spins me around, with him standing right behind me. I feel my chest thumping rapidly, and he levels his head close to mine - his lips almost touching my ear. I can feel his breath tickling my skin, as he whisper, "Don't think, Nova. Let yourself go."
In dreams, anything can change in a split second. Who knows, this torrential rain might stop all of the sudden within the next few seconds. Nova, you promise to let yourself live. To just be. Stay true to that. And so with a deep breath and close my eyes, I find myself turning around out of his grasped and my legs run rapidly. I only run within the small space, and the water hits my face as I find myself spinning all of a sudden. Like a poorly, non-choreographed ballet recital. But I know that this is not a stage, this is just a dream. In this dream - no one else is here but me and him. No one else is watching. It's only me, him and the pouring rain. I find myself laughing and about nothing really, nothing in particular. But it's such an. . . elevated feeling. To laugh just because. With no particular reason to.
It feels oddly. . . liberating.
I try to open my eyes and see him right in front of me with the familiar grin on his lips, and he takes my hand this time - twilling me around before his right hand plants itself on my waist, and his left holds up mine. I naturally place my other hand on his shoulder. He takes another step forward, our noses almost touching, "Dance with me," He says, almost breathlessly.
I am amused at his question, "Oh, really? I thought you didn't dance unless you were on stage."
"I didn't. But I know that I am me right now. I'm me when I'm with you." He says softly.
And my mind flickers back to our conversation earlier about how he hesitates to dance when he is not 'The Elvis Presley' because of embarrassment, but he is willing to dance with me. He's letting go. Just like me. For the brief moment of not thinking.
"Okay." I respond, gladly accepting his request.
And so, we began to dance together. There was certainly no music, but that did not stop us to fall within each other's movements. I picture it like a normal dance of the waltz, expect this is anything but the appropriate setting and it's full of imperfect steps. But I pay no mind to that. Our feet shuffled in sync as we danced in a slow pace, as he spun in me in circles. But the downpour grew stronger, and with that, our dance quickened in its paced. His grip was firm on my hand, as well as on my waist. We both laughed at our imperfect version of the waltz.
"Do you trust me?" He asks, after a while of dancing.
I nod.
He then lifts me up slowly and I laugh, he sets me back down again. I find myself naturally looping my arms around his neck. Both of his hand are now on my waist, and I feel a little warm all of a sudden despite the cold temperatures. He pulls me closer to his body, and his height towers me a little. I take my time to study him in this happenstance. His dark hair sticks to his forehead now, droplets falling from strands. His eyes, piercing as ever and the grin on his lips releasing a melodic laugh. He is beautiful and it's suddenly hard to catch my breath.
"I guess the rain is not stopping, I look like a mess." I shake my head, suddenly embarrassed on what I may look like. I know my hair is soaked and no doubt, there is no more makeup on my face.
Elvis raises his hand, tucking a strand of my hair behind my ear.
"I doubt it."
"I don't think so. A drowned rat might be a bette-" I attempt to joke.
He cuts me off, "You are the most beautiful person I know."
I narrow my eyes at him, "Really? I bet you tell all girls that."
"This is the only time I mean what I say." He explains, and I try to wait for him to break out into a chuckle to say he is joking. But nothing like that. Elvis presses his forehead against mine, and I breathe deeply. Never in my life have I felt my heart thump so rapidly against my chest. I have felt all emotions most of my life: excitement and nervousness and anxiety. All of which result in my heart beating in an insane speed, as if it's about to leap out from my body. But this type of racing I feel cannot be categorised like those. The type of beating feels like it's running down to other parts of my being. It's an overwhelming feeling, a type of energy that feels like it's slipping through my hands and holding my face, and weakening my knees. It's fast and almost a slight pain. A feeling that drives me speechless and makes me welcome the rope of curiosity.
Is this the feeling of just doing and not doing? The feeling of letting things flow? Of being. . . free from my mind?
"I-I feel my heart beating wildly," I admit to him, almost breathless.
"That means it's working." Elvis smiles.
"What is?"
"To be unexpected. To run into the unknown. That is how I want you to feel all the time." He emphasises, and he is so close to me. So incredibly close.
"Thank you."
Silence hits us again, the only sound is the rain around us. Rainfall that seems to have slowed down, but evidence of puddles created.
I see his eyes flicker to my lips, as we both just look at each other. And you know how people say that if two people truly know each other, words won't be necessary at all. That sometimes, a single look is enough to convey a message. The eyes can often reflect the words unspoken. Or so I've been told by my grandmother.
Elvis begins to lean in and I am not clueless, but to my surprise he leaves a brief kiss on the side on the very corner of my lips. Close, but not directly. It lingers there for a while, leading to blush creep into my cheeks.
"You've been asking me questions, let's reverse the roles." He begins, in which I quirk an eyebrow at him.
"You've seen both sides of me. Who do you see right now?" He asks, voice so soft and gentle.
I know what he is asking. Earlier in our conversation, he revealed that the Elvis Presley on stage differs greatly from the actual person offstage. I cannot even imagine feeling almost like you are switching between two identities, two personas, two parts of you. But the other part seeming to encompass and overshadow the human being. I know that Elvis loves performing, and you can hear and see it in numerous videos. There is something so hypnotising and magnetic about seeing him in his element. But I have a feeling that it felt like a heavy weight on his shoulders at one point, as they said before, the brighter the light the darker the shadow.
The one that is before me right now, I see him simply as. . . Elvis.
"You. I see you." I say, and I know that he understands my words.
Elvis smiles in relief and he begins to say something.
"I-"
・‥...━━━━━━━☆☆━━━━━━━...‥・
A buzzing sound screeches through my ears, rapidly leaving me no choice but to open my eyes. I scan my surroundings, and sigh in disappointment that I am in fact in my bedroom. Beams of sunlight pass through my bedroom window, signifying that morning is here. The buzzing sound continues, and I slam the alarm clock situated on my bedside table in annoyance. I hold my hand to my heart, frantically calming my heart.
No. I can't be here right now.
No. Not when I didn't hear what he had to say.
But this is the reality. The reality of the vehicles outside on the streets and people chattering - not an empty and quiet street. The reality of favourable, warm weather seeping into my bedroom - not the gloomy, wet weather that I found myself enjoying and dancing in. The reality that here I am, alone, and there is no smiling raven-haired man beside me.
There is a knock on my door.
"Come in."
"Good morning, my bestie!" Luke cheerfully greets me, all in what seems to be workout clothes.
"Morning," I say, in contrast to his bright mood.
"Listen, I know I'm no Beyonce, but at least be happy to see your best friend." He jokes, taking a drink out of the water bottle in his hand.
"Sorry, I just don't feel like leaving my bed today."
Which is not exactly a lie, just a half truth.
"How the earth has shifted." He gasps dramatically, "Look at me now going for my second lap around the neighbourhood, and THEE Nova Katerina Sinclair slapping productivity in the face?"
Katerina. Katerina is a very sexy name, I'll say. His voice echoes in my head.
I roll my eyes and playfully throw a pillow at Luke, "Oh, Shut up."
"Well, I'll leave you to role-play sleeping beauty for a day, while I go act like I have my life together." Luke says, exiting my room.
"See you later!"
"Hey Google how do. . . " I hear him ask his phone, as his voice trails off into the distance.
Wait.
Why didn't I think of that before?
I grab my phone from the bedside table and quickly type in my question onto the famous search engine.
IS IT POSSIBLE TO RESUME A DREAM WHERE YOU PREVIOUSLY LEFT OFF?
- Dreams can be so realistic that it can be hard to tell if we're awake or asleep. And sometimes, we wake up in the middle of a dream and wonder if it's possible to go back to sleep and pick up where we left off. It is possible to resume a dream, but it requires a certain focus and concentration.
Hmm. . . not exactly what I'm looking for. Let me try again.
IS IT NORMAL TO REMEMBER A DREAM VERY VIVIDLY?
- It is widely common that 99.9% of us cannot remember our dreams the moment we wake up. However, scientists have concluded that there is a percentage of us that do remember our dreams. The few individuals that do (an estimated 2%) remember a maximum of two dreams a week. However, reportedly, only significant parts of their dreams are memorable and others fade along as dreams normally do.
Shit. I'm way past that maximum of two dreams.
WHY AM I AWARE WHEN I AM DREAMING?
- This phenomenon has been classified as 'Lucid Dreaming.' This is whereby an individual becomes aware that they are in the dream world. The events that happen in their brain are merely figment of imaginations. The individual is aware of this the entire time they are in slumber. It is also important to note that some individuals who lucid dream, are able to control the events that unfold before them in the dream.
Okay. This sounds half right. Every time that Elvis has been in my dream I have been extremely aware that none of it is real. But to control my dreams? That one I can't relate to.
WHY DOES A CELEBRITY KEEP APPEARING IN MY DREAMS?
- Celebrities in dreams are not unusual. In fact, researchers evidenced that the appearance of a famous figure often indicates something the individual longs for. Some believe it's a human's soul craving for something they have not yet realised themselves.
What does that even mean?
WHY DOES ONE PERSON CONSTANTLY APPEAR IN MY DREAMS?
- Dreaming of a specific someone (friend, relative, ex) is your brains way of saying that you need to accept something related to that person. Maybe a misunderstanding or something they did that did not sit right with you.
Ugh. This one is not very helpful, how does that even happen when I don't and have never known Elvis Presley personally?
I continue to scroll down the page and click on an article.
- Dreaming about the same person constantly can mean a multitude of things.
1. Firstly, it may relate to unresolved issue.
2. Your subconscious may be sending you a warning sign.
3. You're trying to manifest something in real life.
4. You feel guilty for a reason you can't explain.
5. There's an energy imbalance between you.
I sigh in defeat and close my phone. None of those listed make any sense. So much for Google having the answer to everything. But let's get some facts straight, from the very few I found relevant in my search: Remembering dreams is uncommon, but if you do, you only remember up to 2 dreams a week. I've dreamed of him six times already. Lucid dreaming is when you become aware that you are dreaming and whatever is happening is not real, okay so that is definitely relatable. When a celebrity keeps appearing in your dreams it means your soul is trying to tell you something. . . but what could that possibly be? And lastly, the article - none of it seems relevant.
Who do I even turn to for answers? Or even someone to just talk to about what's happening to me? There's no way I can tell Charlotte or Luke, they'll be worried. Even more of a no towards my parents.
I shot of realisation hits me then and there. I get up and open my wardrobe, frantically finding the purse gifted to me years ago. A purse I used to use so often when I was a kid, the Disney characters perfectly stitched onto it. I open it and my hand grasped the small piece of paper, I dig it out of the purse and sit back down on my bed.
I grab my phone and dial the number scribbled onto the paper, and patiently wait as the phone rings.
"Hello, who am I speaking to?" Her voice travels through, and a smile pulls on my lips.
"Great-Aunt Odette, hi. It's me, Nova." I reply, nervously fiddling with my fingers.
"Oh, hello Nova! Is everything alright? What made you call?" Her tone quickly concerned.
"I'm fine, there's nothing wrong. I, just um. . . well it's better if I see you. Is it ok if I visit?"
She chuckles, "You don't even have to ask, dear. When?"
I took a deep breath, "Today."
chapter 12
#elvis x oc#elvis fanfic#elvis presley#elvis x original female character#original female character#fantasy#slow burn#angst#fluff#mystery#elvis fic#yours truly
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