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#elvis glancing at you
hooked-on-elvis · 2 months
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'68 Comeback Special GIFS -- Elvis performing "All Shook Up" (stand up show #2)
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whositmcwhatsit · 11 months
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Just imagine being this close to the stage...
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jpnriikicore · 21 days
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── sweet baby
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paring charles leclerc x mom!reader, word count 328, genre fluff, summary in which a mom has to cancel her date with a formula one driver due to her son having the flu, ( masterlist )
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a familiar rhythmic knock on your apartment door. the apartment was pretty clean, but you were left in an elvis presley t-shirt that goes down mid-thigh with unruly hair. charles leclerc, the man you’ve been dating for a few months now. you'd never met someone quite as nice and generous as him. you extended your hand out to receive the bouquet of yellow flowers that he held. he remembered. he remembered that yellow lilies are your favorite.
he pressed a chaste kiss on your forehead as he closed the door behind him. warmth bloomed in your heart similar to a flower blooming in the spring. the endearment mon chéri fell from his lips.
you’ve exchanged the aging pink lilies with the new bouquet of yellow ones in the vase that you designed in pottery class sitting on her windowsill above the sink.
black and white reruns play on the tv at a low volume. your baby boy face first on the couch with his car toys scattered on the living room carpet. noah, your kid holding tightly onto his bear stuff toy and dressed in their teddy bear onesie. he scoops up the kid in his arms gently cradling him.
you weren’t going to leave your kid with a high fever in the care of somebody else who wasn’t you. even after you decided to stay home with your kid who needed care. the babysitter called saying they had to cancel anyway.
you swore you'd never been so in love before. the sun rays beaming through the flimsy sheen curtains perfectly lighting his face. he looked down at him and cooed as he rocked the kid gently in his big arms. his thumb rubbing over the baby’s dark full head of hair. your gaze filled with love and admiration. this seemed so natural. he glanced at her for a brief moment before returning his gaze to the baby in his arms.
"he’s so beautiful, mon chéri."
© JPNRIIKICORE, 2024
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aligned-starz · 13 days
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Crying in the Courtyard - Theodore Nott
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⋆。°✩Pairing : theodore nott x fem!reader
Warnings : fluff/light angst, happy ending, use of y/n
Summary : reader finds something out about her crush.
Song : Crying In the Chapel - Elvis Presley⋆。°✩
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"So, did you find out? Is he seeing someone?" You gushed in a hushed tone, fisting your Slytherin friend's robes in your hand as you pulled her in, anxious to hear what she has to say.
"Y/n! Calm down, you're going to rip off my bloody buttons. But yes, I did hear something from Blaise." Pansy Parkinson, a friend you hadn't expected to make, replied with a sigh, her expression mirroring your own anxiety. You held your breath, waiting for her next words, knowing deep down that your suspicions were about to be confirmed.
"Y/n..." She trails off, looking for words to explain the news. You met her eyes, a small realization dawning that your suspicions had been correct. 
"I'm sorry. There was talk in the air that Theodore had been seeing someone, and Blaise confirmed it for me," Pansy started, her voice tinged with sympathy as she glanced away, almost as if she was shielding her eyes from your reaction. "Says that he's crushing on a girl, and we believe it to be Daphne."
Your heart sank as her words registered, but another thought flashed in your mind. Blaise, with his charming smile and smooth demeanor, had always seemed to have an affinity for Daphne. You couldn't help but wonder if his confirmation of Theodore's crush was influenced by his own feelings for her.
"Greengrass? Doesn't Blaise like Daphne Greengrass?" 
Your curiosity sparked, and a deep longing for an answer, an answer that may prove that there's still a chance that Nott could be yours. 
"Yes, he does. And Daphne likes another Slytherin boy, like Theo. The two have been teased before, but they had previously mentioned that they're just friends. Maybe something had developed? Theodore also mentioned that the girl he liked may have liked him as well, and Blaise saw them laughing together after class. So, if we connect the information together.." 
Your heart felt as though as it had been hollowed out as Pansy dropped the bombshell. Theodore Nott, the enigma that had captured your thoughts and dreams, was supposedly entangled in a relationship. You leaned against the hall wall, the cold stone offering little solace as you tried to process the news, mind full with a whirlwind of confusion and hurt.
"I'm truly sorry, Y/n," Pansy's voice softened, her usually sharp features softening with genuine sympathy. "I was really rooting for the two of you to become a thing."
Her eyes, normally filled with a mischievous glint, now held a hint of sadness as she spoke, as if she shared in your disappointment. It was a rare moment of vulnerability from Pansy, one that made you realize just how much she valued your friendship.
As Pansy's voice faded into the background, you found yourself lost in a sea of memories, each one a painful reminder of what could have been. You remembered the stolen glances and whispered conversations, the moments shared between the two of you that had ignited a spark of something more, moments where you couldn't take your eyes off one another.
Maybe it was all in your head? It was only you who felt that way. No, he had felt that way for a different girl, not just any girl, Daphne Greengrass. You could never compare, oh how foolish you felt.
"Y/n, are you alright?" She placed a hand on your shoulder, bringing you back from your thoughts. You looked up at her, tears threatening to spill from your eyes.
"Yes, I'm ok. I expected this, so.." Your eyebrows furrowed in anger, anger at yourself for falling so stupidly.
Before Pansy could see you break down, you decided to leave. You feel so stupid for feeling like this, and you couldn't have someone else see you like this.
"I've got class so um, thank you Pansy." You stammered and started to walk away from the girl, leaving her confused and concerned. 
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As the day wore on, Y/n found herself struggling to maintain her composure. Tears threatened to spill from her eyes at the most inconvenient moments, like droplets of rain in a storm. In Potions class, she buried her face in her textbook, pretending to study as she blinked back the tears that blurred her vision. Tears all caused by the boy who sat at the back of the class, who she refused to even spare a glance at now. But the ache in her chest only intensified with each passing moment, a relentless reminder of the pain she could not escape.
So she stood up abruptly in class, her sudden movement capturing Snape's attention like a disturbance in the otherwise calm atmosphere.
"Do you need a moment, Ms. L/n?" his voice was cold and clipped, his gaze piercing as he scrutinized her.
Y/n met his gaze, her eyes watery but determined. She nodded silently, not daring to speak as she fought to control the storm of emotions raging within her. Snape's expression remained impassive, a faint hint of impatience flickering in his eyes as he waited for her response.
"Take all the time you need," he said curtly, his tone dismissive as he turned his attention back to his lesson.
"Thank you, professor." With a heavy heart, Y/N nodded once more, her resolve hardening in the face of his indifference. With one last glance at her teacher, she turned on her heel and strode out of the classroom, leaving behind a lingering sense of unease in her wake.
Theodore Nott, who had been witnessing the whole situation, was confused beyond belief. She was alright this breakfast, she had been chattering and smiling beautifully as usual with her friends. What made her so distressed? So distressed to the point she wouldn't even spare a glance in his way?
The boy raised his hand, ignoring the looks from his friends, and excused himself from class. Though Snape's questioning gaze unsettled him, he was free to go. And the moment that Snape had nodded, the boy was off running after the girl of his dreams.
Finally, she reached the courtyard, her sanctuary amidst the chaos of her emotions. Leaning against the cold stone wall, she allowed herself to surrender to her grief. Each soft sob echoed off the walls, a symphony of heartache that seemed to consume her entirely.
Lost in her misery, she didn't hear the approaching footsteps until it was too late. She hastily wiped away her tears, trying to compose herself as she heard someone round the corner.
"Y/n?"
She froze, all the blood draining from her face at the recognition of his voice.
From all the people that could have seen her at a state like this, why did it have to be him? She felt a weight of dread as his presence lingered from behind her.
She slowly turned around, looking at Theo through her red puffed-up eyes. His eyes softened and he kneeled down to sit beside her, his expression filled with concern and something else, something she couldn't quite decipher.
"Tesoro? Are you alright?" His voice was gentle, a soothing melody amidst the chaos of her thoughts.
Forcing a smile, she nodded weakly, unable to meet his gaze. "I'm fine, Theodore. Just... just a bit tired. It's been a bad day."
But he wasn't fooled by her facade. Stepping closer, he tilted his head at the sight of how broken-hearted you looked, and in his own chest, he felt a pang of pain. "You don't have to pretend with me, Y/n. I can see that something's wrong."
The vulnerability in his eyes shattered the last of her resolve, and she broke down before him, the truth tumbling from her lips in a rush of emotion. "The boy I like... he doesn't like me back," she confessed, her voice barely above a whisper as she stared down at her hands, unable to meet Theodore's gaze.
The pang in Theodore's heart deepened, now with a mix of jealousy and seething anger. Who would make such a warm and bella ragazza, cry like this?
"Well, that's his loss," Theodore said, his tone casual yet tinged with a hint of something deeper. "Because if it were up to me, I'd never let someone as incredible as you slip through my fingers."
Y/N's eyes widened in astonishment, her heart skipping a beat at his words. "Theodore..." she began, her voice barely a whisper.
Y/N couldn't help but glance at him, a mixture of confusion and curiosity in her eyes. "You think so?" she asked, her voice tinged with uncertainty.
Nott leaned in closer, his breath ghosting over her ear as he whispered, "Of course. Anyone who can't see how incredible you are doesn't deserve you."
He pulled away to look into her eyes, bringing his hand up to wipe away the stubborn tear that fell from her eye.
"Do you remember that time when I was feeling so lost and alone?" he began, his fingers tracing delicate patterns on her cheek. "I tried to push you away, but you refused to leave my side. You stayed with me, even when I didn't deserve it. You're such a kind and loving soul, your soul made mine feel love again like it had never felt before."
Before she could dwell on the thought, He continued as he cupped her face with his hand, his tone growing more teasing with each word. "And besides, if this boy doesn't appreciate you, then he's clearly not worth your time," he declared, a mischievous glint dancing in his stormy eyes. "I mean, he must be pretty stupid to let someone like you cry tears of heartbreak. Che idiota è quel ragazzo."
Y/N couldn't help but laugh at his playful jab, the tension between them easing as she felt the weight of Theodore's words lift from her shoulders. In that moment, surrounded by his warmth and the teasing sparkle in his eyes, she dared to believe that perhaps, just perhaps, he had loved her back.
"There it is, that beautiful smile," Theo remarked, his heart swelling at the sight of her radiant expression. He couldn't help but feel a surge of affection as he watched the way her cheeks popped out when she laughed, prompting him to playfully pinch one with his hand as he joined in her laughter.
But as the symphony of their laughter faded into a comfortable silence, Theodore found himself unable to tear his gaze away from hers. His eyes wandered down to her lips, drawn like a magnet to their soft curve, and he felt a familiar warmth spreading through him, igniting a longing he couldn't ignore.
In that lingering moment of silent connection, Theodore's heart pounded in his chest, his breath catching as he felt an irresistible pull towards her. Without a second thought, he leaned in closer, his lips gently brushing against hers in a tender, hesitant kiss.
Time seemed to stand still as the world fell away around them, leaving only the sensation of her lips against his, sending sparks of electricity coursing through his veins. In that stolen moment, all doubts and fears melted away, replaced by an overwhelming rush of emotion as Theodore finally dared to seize the opportunity he had longed for.
And as he deepened the kiss, his fingers tangling in her hair, Theodore knew with absolute certainty that he had found where he belonged – in the embrace of the one who had captured his heart from the very beginning.
"Wait wait!" Y/n mumbled against his lips, pulling away with a concerned look upon her face. He looked up at her in regret, a fear that the kiss didn't feel the same for her made him gulp.
"What about Daphne?"
The regret on his face morphed into confusion.
"What about.. Daphne?" He repeated.
"Yeah, aren't you guys like a thing?" She hesitated, searching for answers in his eyes as she furrowed her eyebrows and wrapped her arms around herself uncomfortably.
"What? Daphne likes Blaise."
"Daphne likes Blaise." She repeated, a small smile forming upon her face at the realization.
"Wait, how about you? Who's the boy you said that didn't like you back?"
Y/n laughed out at the realization, ignoring Theo's confused face which made her laugh even more. Butterflies danced in her stomach at the feeling of relief, the joy she felt making her heart beat quickly.
"You! Nott, you were the boy who didn't like me back! Blaise told Pansy that you and Daphne were a thing!" She watched his face for a reaction, and at first he was still confused, but as he realized, his mouth was agape as he said "Ah."
The two soon shared their laughter again, Theo apologizing for the tears he had accidentally made her cry, "All along I was the fool who made you cry," he admitted, his tone soft yet tinged with regret. "I'm sorry, il mio tesoro, if only I had known. How can I make it up to you?"
A playful smirk danced on his lips as he pulled her in closer, his gaze drifting down to her grinning lips.
"I don't know if you can ever make it up to me, Nott. You hurt me pretty bad." She playfully said, wiping away her already dried tears. "Well actually maybe, you can start by kissing me again, you fool."
With a chuckle, Theodore leaned in, capturing her lips in a sweet and passionate kiss, knowing in that moment that he had finally found where he belonged – in the arms of the one who had stood by him through tears and laughter, through every trial and triumph.
⋆。°✩
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Hi! This is my first ever upload on tumblr, so it may not be perfect but hey who cares I got inspired by a personal experience! If you notice any grammatical mistakes, no you didn't. Reblogs and comments are highly appreciated! xx
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lovebugism · 7 months
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omggg im craving a halloween themed , rockstar!eddie x shy!reader at a halloween party , matching costumes and everything & he sees a ton of guys hitting on her & is like ???? my baby?
here you go lovie! hope you like it! — eddie takes his girl to a bar on halloween and gets jealous when guys hit on you like you're not already his (shy!reader, rockstar!eddie, established relationship, 1k)
fictober (㇏(•̀ᵥᵥ•́)ノ)
The world didn’t know you before today.
You’ve been just Eddie Spaghetti’s girlfriend for so long — but now you’re Eddie Munson, up-and-coming rockstar and lead of Corroded Coffin’s girlfriend. The title carries a certain weight with it. You wear it with pride, but it weighs you down just the same. 
What’s weird about tonight, though, is you’re not sharing Eddie with the rest of the world like you thought you would. He’s having to share you, because everyone and their goddamn brother’s been all over you all night. 
Apparently, your coquettish rendition of The Bride of Frankenstein is making everyone else as crazy as it’s making him.
“God, go save your girlfriend, Munson,” Gareth jokes across the booth, laughing into his drink as he watches yet another guy stop you at the bar. “At least one of these assholes is gonna steal her from you.”
“She’s not property, dude. She can’t get stolen,” Jeff scolds from beside him, then flashes Eddie a sheepish glance. “But, yeah, the odds aren’t in your favor, Eds.”
Eddie pays no mind to his friends’ teasing — or the anger swirling like fire in the pit of his stomach. 
“Nah. She’s alright…” he mumbles into the rim of his glass. The whiskey burns his throat going down. It doesn’t match the flame rising in his chest at the sight of his precious girl talking to some douchebag dressed like Elvis Presley.
He wouldn’t say it if he didn’t think you weren’t a hundred percent fine. These bozos aren’t trying anything with you — hell, they can barely make conversation with you. You’re just entertaining it because you’re the sweetest thing on the earth.
It’s laughable more than anything.
He’s humored by it all. Not jealous. Definitely not jealous.
“Yeah, who’s the famous one here, again?” Jeff’s girlfriend jokes. She’d left to go to the bathroom with you but came back alone when you got stuck with dollar-store Elvis. She points to the rest of them with a long, manicured finger. “It’s you guys, right? Because I can’t really tell.”
“Fuck off…” Eddie grouses, forcing a grin while the rest of them laugh.
You return then, with a drink in hand and a frown on your face at the sight of your suddenly grumpy boyfriend. “You okay?” you wonder quietly, smoothing down your skirt when you slide into the booth.
The boy moves over to make room for you. “‘M fine,” he answers with a mumble that makes you assume otherwise. 
You reach a hand to his face, smoothing fluffy curls behind his ear. His cheek is warm against your palm. His faded seafoam Frankenstein paint job smears on your wrist.
“‘M sorry for taking so long. Some guy stopped me on the way over. I didn’t wanna be rude.”
Eddie shakes his head. Not a single part of him blamed you.
“It’s okay, babe. Not your fault.” 
He’s full-on beaming now. Just because you called that asshole “some guy.” It feels good to hear you say that, to know that that’s all he is to you — just some fuckin’ guy. You won’t remember him later, if you still do even now.
Honestly, you’ll be lucky to remember your own name at the end of tonight.
“He get that drink for you?” Eddie asks, nodding to the frosted glass in your fist.
You shrug. “Yeah. He bought it, but I watched the bartender make it, so it’s fine.”
He nods, proud and sparkling with it. “Good.”
“What is it?” Gareth wonders, squinting across the table.
“An Old-Fashioned.”
“You hate whiskey,” Eddie laughs, licking the alcohol from the plush of his bottom lip.
“Well, yeah, but he asked what I liked, and I didn’t know what to say, so I just told him your favorite drink,” you ramble, all mousy, as you drag the falling sleeve of your corset back up your shoulder. 
Your cheeks heat with embarrassment, still a bit overwhelmed by the attention.
Eddie’s grinning something fierce beside you. His chest swells with so much pride he thinks he might burst.
“Aren’t you just the sweetest fuckin’ thing?” he singsongs with a rosy grin, wrapping the ripped sleeve of his arm around your shoulders to pull you closer. 
Then he kisses you. Like, really kisses you. 
It’s deep and intimate and sloppy. He opens your mouth with his and slithers his tongue inside. He tastes like bitter-sweet alcohol. You get drunk on him accordingly. 
The rest of the table gags.
Your lips click audibly when Eddie pulls away. His smile glistens with a mixture of your saliva, lips a deeper shade of pink and slightly swollen. You wipe your chin with the back of your mouth — some of Eddie’s face paint comes with it.
“Where’s he now?” the boy asks with a mischievous squint in his deep chocolate eyes.
You shrug, totally uncaring and just wanting to be kissed. “I dunno.”
“Still at the bar,” Gareth answers for you, snickering to himself. “Giving your girl the sex eyes.”
Your face screws up in disgust. “Sex eyes?” you repeat, nose scrunched.
The group laughs.
“Think you can get him to buy you a round? You know, for the table?” Eddie asks you. His fingers trace shapes on your bare shoulder. You have to fight back a shiver.
“You want me to go talk to him?” you gape, like you must’ve heard him wrong.
“I want you to go get us drinks, sweet thing. Work your magic, you know?”
He’s not in the most right headspace right now. You know this. He’s still high on the post-show adrenaline and mellow on the alcohol.  He’s jealous and in love with you and aflame with hatred for bootleg Elvis Presley. He gets rash when he’s raging, risky and unpredictable — a deadly concoction.
“Eds…” you hum quietly, brows scrunched like the idea pains you. “I don’t wanna make you mad…”
“You won’t make me mad, sweet thing,” Eddie assures, squeezing your shoulder. He presses a sanguine peck to your waiting mouth, then his voice gets all low. “Who knows? Maybe I’ll reward you after.”
He smacks one last kiss to your buzzing lips.
You blink at him until your senses return to you. You slide out from the booth and saunter back to Some Guy, who’s seemingly been waiting on your return this whole time. 
There’s a sudden sway to your hips now, but it’s not for him. 
It’s for Eddie.
The boy with the wild hair back at the booth, missing splotches of his face paint and wearing your lipstick knows this too.
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your-nanas-house · 2 months
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"Mr. Coleman said that..."
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◇ Pairing: stepdad!Austin Butler X stepdaughter!Reader
◇ Warnings: kind of dark, SMUT, sessions, therapy (invented by me, dunno if it exists), pervy, stepdad x stepdaughter dynamic.
◇ Summary: Austin gets bit lost in the feelings that the "bond" therapy gifted him.
◇ Note: Sorry for the mistakes and the English. It took me so long, thanks for the kind anon that reminded me what Austin fic I wanted to publish. I think it's the very first Austin fic that I wrote... 🫣.
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A small click and the front door of his attic was open, allowing him to enter and finally drop down the bag he carried all day around... plus the new script.
Austin had been out all day and he honestly felt all those hours on his shoulders other than his mood. He really was tired but happy, since he was about to see his little princess.
As his feet lead him to the open kitchen he could already hear her soft humming, which informed him that she was busy entertain herself with something
"Hi stepdaddy, how was your day?" Her sweet voice beamed after his footsteps popped her little bubble of calm. She didn't look upset or annoyed when seeing him... which was a good thing since they had some issues when her mom left them both.
Issues that with a bit of father and daughter therapy should had quickly disappear... or so the man, who was following the process, had told them the first meeting.
"Bit tiring but... it was good. How about yours? What did you do while I was out?" Austin's low raspy voice asked as his hand removed carefully his airports before his coat so that he could focus his attention on her completely.
She was still in her cute pajamas, a silly one that she had begged him to buy her as soon as she finished watching one of the latest movies of his... 'Elvis' 2022. Reason because her pants were of a baby pink filled with pictures of the king, matched by a baggy shirt with the quote 'Keep Calm and Love Elvis Presley'.
"Bit boring, studied a bit... and nothing much, I cleaned the house though" Y/n informed him after taking a big sip of her tea, humming softly when the older man's arms wrapped around her torso.. hugging her close to himself.
"So sweet of you" he murmured in her ear, tickling her with his short beard as his face snuggled in the crock of her neck more so to make her chuckle before pressing his lips against hers for a quick 'hello' kiss.
His head now resting on top of hers calmly.
"Also!.. I need your help" Y/n hummed out, putting down her cup as her heart beat faster in her chest.. butterflies forming in her stomach at her stepdad's cuddles.
She could already feel his chest vibrating softly as he replied with his voice which became even more lower that it used to be due to the time and work.
"With what, kid?" His big hand ruffled her hair playfully while his body moved to rest against the table of the kitchen so that his beautiful eyes could stare at her as she talked.
She really was so cute like that, her hair bit messy because of him and the glasses she put on just when she used her laptop so to protect them. It seemed quite domestic... bit too domestic since his body started to react a bit, aroused by the innocent scenario.
And the cute mad face she made every time he would tease or annoy her, was so cute but also such a strong turn on for him... expecially those pouty pretty lips, now covered by a watermelon lip gloss.
"Do you remember what Mr. Coleman suggested?" Y/n asked casually, glancing at him with the face he grow to know as 'the testing face'; a serious but funny expression that she always used when she wanted to see if he remembered something or if he forgot about it.
"Of what, sweetheart?" Austin replied with her same tone as he put down the script, pouring himself a glass of water before sitting on the counter to look in her direction. She was giving him her back but he could already see the pouty face accompanied by a small snort of disappointment since he didn't remember.
"The bonding exercises, Baba!" She whined out, looking at him while scoffing softly at his amused expression. He really knew her too well.
"Of course I remember, baby" Austin lied as he placed his glass on the surface so he wouldn't look her in the eyes without distractions
"He said at least once a week, two is better though..." she repeated what their therapist said to them some weeks ago, her eyes looking at him lazily bit tired of her lonesome day. Even too tired to notice his stare taking her whole in shamefully.
"You know that I'm always free to spend some quality time with you, baby" he rasped out before clearing his throat and finish his water, his body warming up at the mere view of her cute behaviour.
"That's a lie but anyway... Let's start it, hm" the young woman murmured, pecking back as soon as he leaned down to steal a bit of love while picking her up easily and move them on the sofa in the living room where there was more space.
"What were the exercises again?" Austin asked, his hands rubbing soft circles on her hips while his eyes pierced intensely in hers the whole time she explained to him "The 5 senses exercises to feel more connected. Touch.. with the yoga, hearing.. by listening and talking, taste.. by eating together, and.. view.. the stare".
Those were all topics they had to go through in their therapist's opinion.. a way to bond with each other better and share some quality moments as father... even though he wasn't her real dad, and daughter.
"I remember perfectly now... and what was the last one?" He asked while playing with a lock of her hair, smiling slightly when her index finger pressed against his nose while talking "It's the smell... we have to take in our scent... and that should be all. So!... where do we start?" The young woman beamed, getting up from his lap.
The older man really enjoyed seeing her so full of energy and joy, it was addicting.
"Okay, little one, let's start. You can choose with which one we begin".
.
Her choose was quickly and he found himself warming slightly up to start the first step. The Touch.. aka Yoga exercises.
Simple but helpful positions they had to do together to feel the struggles and the moving of their bodies.
"Need to change! Mr. Coleman said that we have to be as bare as possible for this one." The young woman reminded the older man from the other room, busy changing into something to start the exercise and have yoga behind so they could relax.
He said that?, Austin questioned in his mind and raised his eyebrows... he really didn't listen so much when that man spoke with them. He clearly needed to stay more focused in the next sessions.
"You need to change as well!" Her sweet voice urged him as she was now standing in front of him in the set of underwear he gifted her that Christmas. Matching bra and panties which colors were identical to her favourite bun that she had used to tie her hair up.
"Sweet baby Jesus above, you are stunning" he commented, holding himself from just cursing in front of her since he scolded her more than once when some bad words left her pretty mouth. It had became a game of theirs just saying some silly things instead of vulgar language.
"It's the set you gave me!" She informed him with a smile, her hands busy fixing her hair happy and warm to start
"I know, little one" the actor murmured while still staring, his Adam's apple bobbing as he swallowed the lump in his throat.
His body was reacting bit too much for his liking and he started to sweat a bit so he decided to get quickly ready and just move his hands to pull off his shirt and threw it away, exposing his built body to the air so that they could begin with the yoga.
Y/n was the first to lead and help, her smaller frame kept doing her best to keep up and help Austin while ending up most of the time just clinging on him like a koala or bouncing to reach his hands.. way too high for her reach.
It was funny, adorable and relaxing... till the sensations changed when he was the one leading the exercise.
"Baba! You have to follow my body" Y/n explained in a whiny playful voice as her young body bent down in front of him, her ass brushing against his crotch and then pressing lovingly when he moved on her, hugging her hips with his strong arms.
Fucking hot, he thought now that his cock overpowered his brain.
His breath became bit heavier while his hands massaged her flesh, he could have stayed like that all day... with his boner pressed between her firm and round ass cheeks still barely covered by those damn panties.
"Ready for the rhythm? Remember sync to let our bodies connect" she parrot what Mr. Coleman told them, making Austin curse internally since he had forgot about the movements... not that he minded though, since his worries disappeared as soon as her ass hit his half-hard dick.
His hips started to follow, taking the lead unconsciously, grinding his clothed cock against her soft flesh shamelessly.
"You got your phone in your pocket, Baba?" Y/n asked after a while, glancing behind to check on him, yelping softly when he moves her head easily by her chin. Making her look back ahead.
"Mhhm... focus, little one. Sync, remember?" Austin rasped out as his hips increased their rhythm, making her loose the balance she had and end up flat against the floor with him on top.
Her heart was beating fast and she couldn't deny that her panties were getting wet by his movements... she wasn't sure it was part of the exercises but who was her to correct her stepdad.
"You're doing so good, baby. So good" his low voice praised, making her maintain the rhythm and match his when his hips increased the tempo as his big hand, which was on her tummy, helped her continue it.
It was starting to get tired, her breath becoming breathless as she heard him grunting next to her ear.
"Austin, I'm not sure this is part of Mr. Coleman's exercises—" Y/n weakly spoke, letting a broken whine escape her mouth when his little finger pressed roughly against her clothed clit
"It's all part of Mr. Coleman's exercises to bond, baby. And call me like he said you should.. don't you want to make the sessions pay off?" Austin murmured huskily, inhaling deeply while lowering quickly his sweatpants and press his bare, rock-hard angry cock against her ass again, pulling the fabric of her panties so that it was stuck between her ass cheeks like his lenght.
"I said call me like Mr. Coleman said, little one" his tone became more stern as his hand spanked her soft flesh making her jolt
"Sorry, daddy! Sorry" she whined out, moving her ass up so to allow him to continue without interruptions... just like a good girl.
It was twisted but felt so good, so... damn good, with the soft skin of his cock caressing her inner thighs as he made sure to keep them closed so that he could fuck them. Hitting her clit with each thrust.
Her stepdad was dry humping her and she was loving it as much as he was... and she could tell that he was enjoying himself pretty much due to all the noises and praises that escaped his lips.
"Such a good girl! Fuck— fuck, fuck. Little one!" His horsed voice growled in her ear as his body shook against hers before something started to wet her thighs and panties. The young woman didn't had time to check before her own orgasm hit her whole and her back arched, a soft curse, which earned her a harsh spank, escaped her innocent sweet mouth.
"Language, baby... now how about we move to the food now, hm?" Austin suggested while massaging her warm flesh, moving his softening cock away from her shaking thighs.
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7s3ven · 3 months
Text
MY LOVE. luke (pjo)
( master list )
IN WHICH… the half-blood campers live in a world where everybody is granted a soulmate. Everybody but the favoured child of Aphrodite, who was always destined to live a life without true love.
“My love is mine, all mine. I love mine, mine, mine. Nothing in the world belongs to me.”
( inaccurate details )
Warnings : Slight angst, not proofread (grammar mistakes)
A/N : late Valentines special… oops
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Depending on what type of person you were, the concept of soulmates were either a blessing or a curse. To Y/N L/N, it was neither because she was never given a partner. The unseeable red string tied around her left ring finger never led to anybody else. Her skin never replicated the wounds of another person. Her world was always a scope covered in bright colours instead of depressing grey hues.
To others, her lack of a soulmate was great. She was free to love whomever she wanted without having to worry about a so-called soulmate. To her, it was hell. While it was true that she could like any person she chose, she would never be their first option. She was smart and beautiful and charming but their ideal pick would always be their soulmate.
It was sad, honestly. Especially when she knew boys would like her if soulmates didn’t exist.
Even when Y/N arrived at Camp Half-Blood, she was an exception. No soulmate meant no love life in other people’s eyes so it shocked everyone when Y/N was claimed by the very person who created the idea of fated partners. Aphrodite.
Y/N was awoken by loud giggles. She cracked an eye open, staring at her siblings across from her. “Why are you all up so early?” She almost groaned. It was seven in the morning and she knew her siblings always valued their beauty sleep. “Is Elvis Presley here or something?”
“No.” Silena grinned at Y/N, her cheeks flushing a pale pink colour, “Even better. A new boy just arrived last night and rumour has it that he’s cute. Cuter than Malcom.”
Malcom was an Ares kid. Ares and Aphrodite children always got along for some reason and because their parents had a complicated love relationship, so did they.
“Malcom isn’t that good-looking. What about Ben?” Y/N retorted, kicking her blankets off.
“I think Nigel is better.” Another sibling piped up, causing the whole cabin to burst into muffled laughter.
“That’s because you’re gay, Andrew!” They all exclaimed in unison, trying not to wake the other cabins.
Y/N leaned her head against her fluffed up pillow, gazing at Silena. “So, what’s this cutie’s name?”
“Luke.” Silena immediately answered, proud of herself for remembering the new camper’s name. “He came with Grover and a little girl.”
“Annabeth.” Andrew added. Y/N quietly hummed.
“Don’t be too loud.” She muttered, “I still want to sleep.”
As the commotion amongst her siblings died down, they too went back to bed. Y/N watched as Silena traced her soulmate tattoo before lying down, gently smiling. Y/N glanced at her own wrist, imagining her own mark inked onto her skin. What was it like knowing you were destined to love someone and they were destined to love you?
It must be reassuring.
Y/N didn’t remember when she drifted off, but she did and when she opened her eyes again, the sun was seeping through the light pink curtains.
Y/N lightly sighed as she sat up, running a hand through her perfect hair. That was a peek of having Aphrodite as her mother.
“Oh, you’re finally up. We thought you were sad. Too bad you aren’t.” Drew Tanaka was as cruel as ever. She was sitting at the vanity, applying a layer of pressed powder onto her face.
“Even if I did die, Drew, Silena would be the next cabin counsellor.” Y/N nonchalantly uttered as she stood up, stretching. Drew quietly scoffed and rolled her eyes.
“At least I have a soulmate.” She grumbled.
When Drew Tanaka hit hard, Y/N L/N always made sure to hit back harder.
“Yeah? Well, at least my ‘soulmate’ doesn’t hate me because of a rumour about me sleeping with his best friend. Which, by the way, was true.” Y/N quickly snapped back, leaving Drew speechless. Y/N was never one to act out but when someone asked for it, she delivered a killing blow.
Like any normal Aphrodite daughter, Y/N took her sweet time in doing her makeup. She could feel Drew’s glare on her as she swiped a red tint across her lips.
Y/N arrived at breakfast a little late, just in time to see the new kids stumble into the pavilion. Girls turned to whisper to each other, subtly pointing at the boy and blushing.
“That’s Luke and Annabeth, right?” Y/N questioned as she took a big gulp from her golden chalice. Silena quickly nodded, glancing at Luke.
“See, I told you he was cute.”
Y/N shrugged but Silena did have a point. Luke, with his perfect side profile, sharp jawline, and pretty curled hair, was a pleasant sight for sore eyes.
Y/N was caught off-guard when Luke sat down at the Hermes table and immediately lifted his head, his gaze settling on her without hesitation. Y/N quickly looked away, glancing at her wrist like she always did in hopes a tattoo would appear by some miracle.
Drew saw her moment of weakness and instantly commented on it. “Still no soulmate, Y/N?” Silena sent her half-sister a disapproving stare.
“Yeah. I’ll just fuck yours, I guess.”
Drew’s face sank for the second time. “Stay away from Sulan.” She hissed, glancing at the Demeter boy who wanted nothing to do with Drew.
Fate always drew people together so it was no surprise that everybody in Camp Half-Blood had their soulmates in the same place. There were multiple ways you could find your soulmate, depending on your mark.
Silena had her matching tattoo. Drew had that damned red string that only she could see. And Andrew could only sed the world in black and gray until his soulmate arrived, which they hadn’t yet.
Across the pavilion, Luke lightly nudged a teen named Chris. “Who’s that?” He asked, pointing at the H/C-hIred girl who was sitting with a group of unnaturally attractive kids.
Chris laughed for a short moment. “Y/N L/N. She will eat you alive, boy.”
“Has she found her soulmate yet?”
Demigods weren’t much better than their parents. They played around until they found their soulmate and that’s when they settled down. At least, for most. Some still had flings here and there, proving that they were just like the gods.
Luke’s question causes Chris to pause. He lightly chewed the inside of his mouth before stabbing his fork into a piece of bacon. “She doesn’t have a soulmate.” He murmured.
“How come?”
“We don’t know. She’s wondering the exact same question.” Chris shrugged before going back to his breakfast, “You can talk to her if you want but she’s a little mean so be careful of that.”
Luke quietly hummed, circling his finger around the rim of his cup.
The first time Luke talked to Y/N was when he and Annabeth were separated to go on different tours. Luke ended up with Y/N, who beamed at him and crinkled her eyes.
“Hi.” She effortlessly greeted him, waving.
“Sup.” Luke choked out, his voice accidentally going up a pitch higher. He cleared his throat. “I’m Luke.”
“So I’ve heard. Y/N.”
They walked side by side in a comfortable silence until Y/N spoke again. “Where’s your third person?” She questioned. “And I’m not talking about Grover.”
Chiron had tried to keep Thalia a secret but the gossip still managed to reach Y/N’s ears.
Slowly, Luke pointed at the tree that had mysteriously appeared this morning. It guarded the barrier between the camp and the mortal world.
“He turned her into a tree.” Luke grumbled, clearly displeased.
Y/N didn’t have to question who he was. Zeus, the king of the gods and ruler of the sky, had decided to turn his only daughter into a tree.
“Yes. The gods have always been a little… questionable. Shall we continue with the tour?” Y/N guided Luke forward. She did most of the talking while he listened, or at least tried to. It was hard when an absolutely stunning girl was standing in front of him.
“And last but not least, the strawberry field. Pretty, isn’t it?” Y/N smiled as she stared at the fresh strawberries. Luke let out a small ‘yeah’ but he was still staring at her. Y/N clapped her hands together, finally bringing Luke back to reality. “That marks the end of our tour. Any questions?”
Luke shook his head.
“Great. Oh, and if you’re worried about your soulmate, they’ll show up at some point. All the new kids freak out over it. If you’re a demigod, it’s almost guaranteed that so is your soulmate.” Y/N smiled again, making Luke’s knees weak.
Where was a matching tattoo when he needed one?
“So, uh… your soulmate… what are they like?” Luke knew he was most likely overstepping a boundary when he asked that. But Y/N, used to the shame and embarrassment of not having one, merely shrugged.
“I wouldn’t know. For some reason, my mother wants me to spend my life alone.” Y/N laughed but Luke could see the pain that flashed through her eyes. The same exact agony that Luke had been experiencing after all his peers found their soulmates expect him.
“If it makes you feel better, I don’t have one either.” Luke piped up. “I guess we can be lonely together.”
Y/N carefully gazed up at him. She felt a glimmer of hope spark inside her chest but she shoved it down. She refused to get her hopes up. “Everybody has one, Luke. You do too. Maybe my mom just wanted me to play the role of Cupid.”
Y/N walked off before Luke could say anything else. Annabeth instantly replaced her. “What did you say to make her leave?” For a young kid, she sure had a sharp tongue.
“Don’t even, Annabeth.” Luke’s cheeks heated up in embarrassment. He never had a problem with getting girls to like him because of his good looks, but they never stayed. And Annabeth took every chance she could to remind him of their awkward moments.
“What did you say, though? Did you mention your pet crocodile again?”
“First of all,” Luke retorted, “It was a spider. It was not a crocodile. And someone set him free! I really liked him too. And, I only asked her about her soulmate.”
“You’re an idiot.” Annabeth deadpanned, “Why would you ask that? Can’t you see that it’s a sore topic for her?”
“Not everybody is blessed with your wits, kid.” Luke playfully ruffled Annabeth’s hair while she huffed in frustration.
She quickly swatted his hands away. “What’s if she’s your soulmate?” Annabeth blurted out. “She doesn’t have a soulmate. You don’t have one. At least, you don’t have the common signs. What if that’s your soulmate bond?”
Luke chuckled. “I don’t think it works that way.”
“Maybe not… but either way, she’s still staring at you.”
Luke had never turned his head so fast. Y/N was perched on her cabin porch, leaning against the pretty wooden railing. And just as Annabeth had said, she was looking at him.
“Soulmate bond.” Annabeth repeated in that annoying singsong voice of hers.
Even as Luke walked back to the Hermes building, he couldn’t shake Annabeth’s words. Was Y/N really his soulmate? The person he had spent his entire life searching for?
Maybe. Standing next to her just felt so… right. He knew the moment he saw Y/N step out of her cabin that she’d have his unwavering attention.
Months passed by like seconds and years passed like days. Luke found himself becoming an expert at wielding a sword and not even Clarisse could disarm him. Y/N never bothered to try, always wanting to keep her appearance pristine under the hot sun.
“Do you ever get bored just lying around?” Luke questioned as he stood in front of Y/N. She was lying down under a large tree, enjoying the cool shade.
“No.” Y/N answered, closing her eyes. “I just don’t find it fun swinging around a sword in the hot sun.” The heat from the large star was unbearable during summer. Y/N hated the feeling of her clothes sticking to her skin so she was commonly found under trees during the hottest season.
“Why not try swinging around a sword at night? It’s cooler at that time.”
“I’m good.” Y/N truely was a daughter of Aphrodite, caring about her appearance above all else.
“I heard Silena found her soulmate.” Luke uttered as he sat down, keeping his distance in case Y/N didn’t appreciate his company. But she said nothing so he assumed it was fine.
“Yeah. At least he’s nice. I’d hate for her to have an annoying soulmate.” Y/N laughed yet that familiar look of envy and sadness flashed across her eyes. Y/N did well in concealing her facial expressions but her gaze never lied.
Luke and Y/N were seventeen now, almost eighteen. They had known each other for years and Luke had managed to notice some of Y/N’s subtle habits.
He also knew her opinion on soulmates. She craved for one and found the courage to despise her mother for her lack love. She prayed for one when offering a sacrifice. She dreamed of finding her other half and every time she woke up, she was disappointed that it wasn’t a reality.
Y/N knew there was more to life than relationships but why didn’t she have a soulmate? That was a query only Aphrodite herself could answer.
“Still no soulmate for you I suppose?” Y/N asked, glancing at Luke who shook his head.
“The main reason I was looking for you was because I had some sort of… theory.”
Y/N raised her eyebrows, suddenly curious. She gestured for Luke to continue.
“I don’t have a soulmate mark. You don’t have one either. What if, in a way, our lack of soulmate marks is our bond? If that makes sense.” Luke almost stumbled over his own words, suddenly feeling far too nervous.
“You think… I’m your soulmate?” Those words felt foreign as they slipped past Y/N’s lips. She was staring at Luke in slightly disbelief. “I don’t know, Luke. Maybe we just don’t have soulmates.” Y/N chuckled at the end of her sentence.
Luke’s breath nervously shuddered. “Okay… so if we don’t have soulmates then I can like anybody I want?”
“Technically, yeah.” Y/N aimlessly shrugged.
“Then I chose you.”
Y/N stared at him with her eyebrows furrowed. “What? Why me?”
“Because why not? I’m not taking pity on you, Y/N. I genuinely like you. As more than just a friend. The moment I saw you, I knew that if I had a soulmate, I would want it to be you. We can take it slow if you want. I don’t care as long as I’m with you.”
Y/N could only muster up a nod, still in shock.
She didn’t know what she was expecting to happen after her indirect acceptation to his confession but finding a small bouquet of roses on her bed was not what she had in mind.
“Oh, those are pretty. Who are those from?” Silena was at Y/N’s side in an instance, curious to see the flowers.
“Luke.” Y/N muttered as she flipped over the card, staring at the messy handwriting that was undeniably Luke’s.
“So my manifestation did work!” Silena exclaimed, happily clapping her hands together. “I’ve been shipping you guys since, like, forever! And I knew you wouldn’t make a move so I manifested Luke to.” Silena proudly beamed as she rocked back in forth on her heels, “I’m so happy for you two!”
Drew, on the other hand, was not.
“Cute pity bouquet, Y/N.” The ravenette said as she waltzed into the cabin.
“I will slap you with the thorns.” Y/N fired back.
At dinner, Y/N ended up sandwiched between Silena and Drew. For two girls who seemingly hated each other, Y/N and Drew sure spent a lot of time together.
“Here comes your lover boy.” Silena teased as she watched Luke guide a new camper towards the Hermes table. Y/N wasn’t sure if she should stare or look away but Luke was already locking eyes with her, smiling so widely that you’d think his deepest wish just came true.
“He’s not your soulmate.” Drew uttered.
“I know. We don’t all have to follow the rules of soulmates, do we? You should know that better than anyone else.”
Drew scoffed, angrily stabbing her fork into a piece of meat.
Y/N didn’t eat much. Her stomach felt too queasy whenever Luke so much as glanced at her. Was she nervous? Her leg was continuously bouncing up and down so she must be.
She left the pavilion early, expecting Luke to follow after her and feeling proud of her guess when he did. “Did you like the flowers?” He asked, tilting his head to the side.
“Of course.” Y/N answered.
“I really like you, Y/N. Please, just give me a chance. Who cares about soulmates? You may as well be mine.” Luke engulfed Y/N into a tight hug, his hands resting at her waist and refusing to let go.
“I don’t know, Luke.” She whispered. She had spent so much time alone in the dark that she forgot what love even felt like. Was it the butterflies in her stomach? Or perhaps the loud pounding of her heart? Or maybe her cheeks that were flushed a bright pink hue under the moonlight?
All her worries seemed to effortlessly melt away as Luke suddenly kissed her. He stepped back just as quickly but Y/N wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him towards her again.
She wasn’t sure what was happening but she could feel small beads of tears roll down her cheeks.
“Why are you crying, pretty?” Luke asked, furrowing his eyebrows in concern. Y/N swiftly wiped her tears away. As stupid and it sounded, that was her first kiss. And it was the first time someone showed a genuine interest in her, someone without a soulmate.
“If we do this, Luke… you have to promise not to leave me too quickly.” Y/N whispered so that only he could hear her voice.
“I don’t want my soulmate, if they even exist, Y/N. I want you.”
Those words echoed in Y/N’s head. I want you. Those three simple words set off fireworks in Y/N’s stomach. She felt her heart skip a beat.
She really shouldn’t have indulged in her own feelings when Luke might have a soulmate of his own but she couldn’t resist him when he was looking at her with those puppy dog eyes.
After that fated night, Luke rarely left Y/N’s side. He seemed to be attached at her hip and even when Clarisse laughed at him, he ignored her. Y/N was happy for a while.
It was the new girl that caused her fragile relationship with Luke to shatter into pieces. She really should have seen all this coming. She always noticed the bruises that lingered on Luke’s skin. Bruises that weren’t his but ones he simply brushed off as small injuries from all his hard training.
Y/N was the first to walk out of her cabin and, by default, that meant she would be showing the new camper around.
She had arrived early in the morning and while she was supposed to be resting in the infirmary, Y/N found her under the tree she usually sat at.
“You should be resting.” Y/N uttered. She could only see one side of the girl’s face but nevertheless, she was still pretty. Dyed blonde hair with heavy bangs framing her delicate and pale face and light grey eyes that nervously shifted from the ground to Y/N.
“They kept pestering me about my scar.” She mumbled, refusing to show Y/N her full face. “It’s my soulmate mark but they kept saying it wasn’t. Apparently… my soulmate has already found someone.”
She finally turned her head to reveal the scar. It was a jagged line, perfectly mimicking Luke’s. Y/N stiffened as the dread began to set in. She felt like she was going to collapse. Luke always preached about choosing Y/N over fate but would he do so now that his soulmate was here?
“Right.” Y/N choked out. “Well, let me show you around first.” It took all her energy to hide her true feelings. She didn’t want this girl to know that she was slowly but surely cracking under the pressure.
“I’m Lila, by the way.” The blonde muttered, fidgeting with her fingers.
“Y/N.”
As usual, she saved the strawberry fields for last. Lila seemed impressed by the big, red berries that the Demeter kids had grown. “One last stop.” Y/N said as she led Lila to a certain cabin. She knew she would come to regret this but the matching scars weren’t exactly subtle.
Y/N knocked on the door and just as she hoped, yet dreaded, Luke answered. “Hey.” He grinned widely at her as he leaned against the door frame.
“Someone’s here for you.” Y/N stepped aside to reveal Lila. Luke paused before he chuckled.
“This is a joke, right? Y/N?”
But she was already walking, more like jogging, away.
Y/N watched from afar as Luke conversed with the girl who had the identical scar to his. It trailed over the same eye too and it wouldn’t take a genius to realize what that meant. Luke had finally met his soulmate.
And Y/N was alone. Again.
The favourite child of Aphrodite. The golden star. The beautiful role model.
She was always destined to spend her life alone and perhaps she should have fully accepted that instead of falling in love with Luke, someone she couldn’t have no matter how hard she tried.
She ended up skipping breakfast and merely sitting in front of the vanity mirror, soullessly staring at her reflection. She wanted nothing more than for an ugly scar to taint her pretty face just so she could claim Luke as her soulmate.
She traced a faint line over her eye with light brown eyebrow and imagined that it matched with Luke’s. That, in another life, she could finally call someone hers.
The cabin door opened. Y/N didn’t have enough time to wipe the eyeshadow scar off before Drew walked in. The black-haired girl made an immediate beeline for her half-sister. Y/N thought Drew was going to taunt her as usual but she was shocked when the cruel girl hugged her instead.
“Soulmate or not,” Drew whispered, “He should choose you.”
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849 notes · View notes
floralcyanide · 5 months
Text
— 𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚜𝚎 𝚗𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝𝚜 (nsfw)
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important note: if you don't like rpf (or fanfic about real people), please just scroll past. don't be rude in the reblogs or tags or I will just block you. it costs zero dollars to mind your business and keep scrolling. tom will literally never see this. I will never send it to him. therefore, no one is getting harmed by this. rpf is written by many about many real people and has been for a long time. if you'd like to file a complaint, I'd love to see you say that writing rpf is weird to the Hamilton fandom, the Billy the Kid fandom, the Elvis/ Queen/ Greta Van Fleet/ other bands and singers fandoms, (especially the k pop fandom. I pray you survive if you do.) etc etc. basically, just ignore this if you don't wanna see it. have a good day (:
⌯ pairing: tom blyth / fem!reader
⌯ warnings: mentions of alcohol, consumption of alcohol, mentions of smoking, reader smokes but it isn't explicitly described (can be an ignored detail), eventual smut, penetrative sex, unprotected sex (please protect yourself with strangers), oral sex (f receiving), nipple play, cum eating, fluff if you squint
⌯ word count: 3454
⌯ summary: at your friend's christmas party, you meet tom blyth and there's a strong connection off the bat. after a little too much to drink and a night spent talking, the two of you have an intimate christmas eve together. (based on those nights by bastille.)
⌯ author’s note: I've been so busy that I haven't been able to finish this until today lol and it took ages because I kept getting distracted ((: anyway!! merry christmas and happy hanukkah, I hope everyone enjoys this (: if you don't pls keep it to yourself
divider credit: @arminsumi | @eloquentreverie | @cafekitsune ⌯ masterlist ⌯ taglist form
this fic has been cross posted to ao3.
ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ᴄᴏᴘʏ, ʀᴇᴘʀᴏᴅᴜᴄᴇ, ᴏʀ ᴄʟᴀɪᴍ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋ ᴀs ʏᴏᴜʀs ᴏɴ ᴛᴜᴍʙʟʀ, ᴀᴏ3, ᴡᴀᴛᴛᴘᴀᴅ, ᴏʀ ᴀɴʏ ᴡᴇʙsɪᴛᴇ. ʏᴏᴜ ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ʜᴀᴠᴇ ᴘᴇʀᴍɪssɪᴏɴ ᴛᴏ ᴜsᴇ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋs ɪɴ ᴀɪ ɢᴇɴᴇʀᴀᴛᴏʀs ᴏʀ ᴀɴʏᴛʜɪɴɢ ᴛᴏ ᴅᴏ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴀʀᴛɪғɪᴄɪᴀʟ ɪɴᴛᴇʟʟɪɢᴇɴᴄᴇ. ʏᴏᴜ ᴍᴀʏ ɴᴏᴛ ᴜsᴇ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋs ᴛᴏ sᴇʟʟ ғᴏʀ ᴀs ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴏᴡɴ ᴄʀᴇᴀᴛɪᴏɴ
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You’re nursing a glass of half-sipped champagne, trying your best to pay attention to what your friend is saying to you through the pounding music. Being social with them is the least you can do, considering this is their holiday party you’re attending. And they’ve supplied the alcohol that you’ve helped yourself to all night. This is one reason why you can’t focus very well, but there’s another reason, too. You swear you feel eyes from somewhere in the apartment searing into the back of your head. At first, it wasn’t a big deal. But now it’s almost as if you’re scared to move in case someone is watching. Still listening to your friend, you realize you’re unable to look around to find the source. So you push away the sensation the best you can for now. A mutual friend waves at you from across the room where the makeshift bar is. Downing the rest of your champagne, you bid the friend you’re conversing with a quick goodbye for the time being. Hurrying to your friend who beckoned you over, you look at them with a raised brow when their face scrunches up into a giddy smile.
“Why do you look like that?” you ask, carefully eyeballing them.
Your friend chuckles at you, leaning into your ear, “There’s a hot guy back there who has been eyeing you for quite some time.”
Your face contorts into realization. So that’s why you’ve been feeling eyes burning into you. You hesitantly turn around, hoping you aren’t too blatantly obvious in finding who is staring. However, at this point in the night, you aren’t entirely graceful by any means. Your eyes catch onto a brunette man almost immediately, like you’re drawn to one another somehow. The man glances down at his drink before letting his eyes shoot back up to yours, his determined gaze sending goosebumps across your skin. Your friend has been too busy making you a drink to notice the tension but still manages to switch out your empty glass with a full one despite your daze.
“I’ll be right back,” you say just loud enough for your friend to hear over the song blaring through the speakers.
With the alcohol burning in your system, the atmosphere of the apartment seems otherworldly. It’s a fairly glitzy party, so you’re dressed for the occasion. Your outfit highlights your best features, allowing you to have an air of confidence. A kind of confidence you don’t usually carry. The alcohol certainly helps with that. The shimmery lighting bouncing off the walls gives off an ethereal vibe to the apartment. The dim glimmer of the room casts the shadow of the brunette man’s eyelashes onto his cheekbones. The closer you get, the more you notice about him. His aquiline nose, the contour of facial hair on his face, the tasteful and subtle golden hoop in his left ear. You see a small smile stretch across his lips as you approach him.
“I am so sorry if I’m coming off as creepy,” he shouts over the music, laughing to himself, “I promise I don’t mean to. You’re just really attractive.”
You take a moment to let your eyes take in his form as discreetly as possible, noticing his towering height and lean physique. Now that you’re close enough to properly see his face, you note that his eyes shine a hauntingly beautiful shade of icy blue. He takes a moment to study your face as well, waiting with bated breath for your response.
“That means a lot coming from someone who is also attractive. And I thought I felt someone staring,” you jokingly smile at him around a sip of your drink.
“Sorry about that,” the man rubs the back of his neck nervously, “I just never know how to approach without being awkward.”
Butterflies flutter in your stomach at the heavy weight of the brunette’s eyes on yours, your drink burning away any nervousness that had previously lingered.
“I get it,” you match his smile that has yet to wipe off his face, “I’m not the type to come up to someone I find cute. But…” you trail off, taking in the man’s attractiveness, “There’s something about you I can’t put my finger on.”
“Well,” he chuckles at you, bringing his glass to his lips before hesitating, “You’ll figure it out eventually.”
“Oh really?’ you raise your eyebrows, a playful tinge to your voice, “How’s that?”
“Do you smoke?” the man asks.
“Only when I’m drinking,” you chide. 
The two of you weave around the other party-goers toward the fire escape, and you snatch the bottle of something from your friend’s hand while passing the bar on the way out. After clambering from the window behind the tall man, who effortlessly climbed out, you take his outstretched hand. Planting your feet on the landing, you watch as the man fishes out a pack of cigarettes and a pack of matches from his back pocket. He looks up at you expectantly, patting the spot on the metal grating next to him.
“I don’t bite,” he jokes, “Not hard, anyway.”
You bite back a snort but sit down anyway. You take a swig of the clear liquid in the bottle you took before offering it to the man with a sour face. He’s in the process of lighting up, the cigarette hanging between his lips casually as he holds a lit match to the end. You watch him do this, and something stirs inside you. He takes a drag before handing the cigarette to you and taking the bottle from your hand. 
“You smoke a lot?” you ask him before taking a drag of your own, your eyes not leaving him.
He shrugs, “I picked it up while in college. It’s a bad habit I go back to sometimes.”
“I see,” you say, “I forgot to ask, but what’s your name?”
“Tom,” the brunette says, the cigarette dangling from his lips as he offers a free hand for you to shake. You gently take it.
Despite the chill of the night, Tom’s hand is warm against yours. You both hesitate to pull away, but a shy chuckle shared between the two of you causes a natural break of grip. You continue to smoke and pass the bottle to and from each other, talking about this year’s notable events in your lives. You speak for a while before more personal details begin spilling. Like how much you hate your job and how Tom missed his co-stars from his last project. Or how you both hate being single during the holidays. The more alcohol that’s consumed, the more you discuss your lives. It’s only been an hour or two, but it feels like you’ve known each other forever. 
A comfortable silence falls over the two of you. Tom looks over at you, admiring how your cigarette looked so natural in your hand. And how your hair fell perfectly around your face and how you swung your legs back and forth innocently. The corners of Tom’s lips twitch upward as he subtly moves closer to you, his thigh pressing against yours. He thinks you’re quite interesting and pretty- he doesn’t know why you’re still single when you’re such an amazing person.
You feel the roughness of his trousers against your bare thigh as you finish your final cigarette. You swish the remaining contents of the bottle around, deciding that your blurry peripheral vision means it is time to stop drinking. When you turn to offer Tom the rest of the alcohol, he’s facing you already, mere inches away. Your breath hitches as his eyes look into yours. They drop to your lips, and despite your intoxication, you feel giddy in your stomach. 
“Can I,” Tom whispers, lifting a hand to your cheek, “Can I kiss you?”
You sit the bottle down on the other side of where you’re sitting, a drunken smile growing on your face, “Of course you can.”
Tom leans in, pressing his lips to yours gently. You inhale sharply through your nose at the intense feeling of electricity between the two of you. You can taste the alcohol on him when you run your tongue across his bottom lip, testing just how far he wants to go. Your hand reaches up and cards through his dark hair, bringing him as close as possible as the kiss becomes more passionate. Tom’s free hand grasps your hip, his thumb digging deeper into your skin the harder you kiss him. Your head swims as he peppers his lips along your jawline and under your ear.
“We should probably go inside,” you pull away reluctantly, but even in your stupor, you don’t want to get carried away and fall off the fire escape.
You struggle to push up the cracked open window, and Tom giggles at you as he effortlessly pushes it open for you. Both of you climb through, and your friend shakes their head at you when your feet land firmly on the floor.
“I had wondered where you ran off to,” they chuckle, “I see you’ve met my friend Tom.”
“Uh, yeah,” you smile, looking up at him as he stands beside you.
Your friend looks closely at the two of you, noticing your bitten lips and Tom’s flushed face, “Now that the party has dwindled down, you guys can chill upstairs where it’s quiet. I have a book collection you two would enjoy.”
“Gotcha,” you nod as they walk away to mingle with other partygoers.
Looking around, you notice the remainder of the gathering is in other parts of the apartment, leaving the living room and upstairs unoccupied. Tom grabs your hand, pulling you away from the kitchen to the hallway leading to the stairs. You pull him into another kiss, Tom giggling at your eagerness as he sways slightly. He walks you backward until you feel your back against the nearby wall. Neither of you would do this on a typical day, but the energy between both of you is so intense. Your hands move underneath his shirt, your cold palms making contact with his warm skin. Tom gasps into the kiss at the contact, and you scoff, pulling away from him and grabbing his hand to drag him up the stairs.
“Careful,” Tom says to you as your legs wobble. Meanwhile, he’s struggling to climb them as well.
After a few minutes of tussling and laughing, the two of you finally reach the second floor.
“So about that book collection,” Tom raises an eyebrow, catching his breath as he grabs you by the hips, bringing you close to him.
“Only if you really want to,” you look up at him, both your and his eyes glazed over.
“I do,” Tom runs his hands along your sides, his gaze heavy on you, “Lead the way.”
You walk ahead of him, pulling him into the guest bedroom, where the books do happen to be stored in a giant bookcase along the wall. String lights around the ceiling give a soft golden glow to the room as you approach the mass of books. Tom closes the door softly as he enters the room, walking up behind you as you trace the spine of one of your favorite books. Tom wraps his arms around you, leaning down to kiss the back of your neck gingerly. You melt into his chest, closing your eyes as he travels down your shoulder. Your dress has an exposed back, and Tom is taking advantage of it as Tom falls to one knee and continues kissing down your body. He delicately unties the silk ribbon holding the two sides of your dress together, pausing before allowing it to fall to the floor.
“Let me know if you want me to stop,” Tom says.
You turn around and walk to the bed, allowing your dress to fall behind you. Sitting down, you motion for Tom to come over to you. His eyes scan your face, avoiding your intricate and deep-colored underwear as he stands up. Tom stands between your slightly parted legs, and you move your hands to the lapels of his black blazer, pushing them open. He discards it from his arms and to the floor before pulling his t-shirt over his head. You try not to ogle at his perfect body, but your hands wander anyway. Up his abdomen and across his chest until you reach his neck, where you pull him down for a heated kiss. Tom lightly pushes you onto the bed, and you move to the pile of pillows to rest your head. He climbs over you, caging you underneath him. Before you can react, Tom pulls your legs up around his waist as he rests his body on yours. His lips hover over yours, his darkened eyes boring into yours much like they did the back of your head earlier in the evening. 
“Don’t stop,” you say, crossing your ankles behind Tom’s back.
Tom attacks your neck with hot kisses and soft bites, your hand grasping the back of his head. As his body relaxes into you, his weight presses you against the bed, and you feel how hard he is. You lift your hips to lightly grind into Tom, and his soft bite into your collarbone turns harsh in reaction. He continues downward, slipping his fingers underneath the straps of your bra and sliding them down your shoulders. You arch your back so Tom has the room to unclasp the band and remove the garment from you. He wastes no time resuming his kisses on your sensitive skin, avoiding the areas you desire his kisses most. You gasp when Tom lets his hand brush against your breast, his thumb circling your nipple softly. A small moan leaves your lips, and Tom glances up at you through his lashes to gauge your reaction. He admires how your eyebrows crease momentarily in pleasure, so he circles his thumb again. You moan louder this time, craving his touch without hesitance.
“Please,” you sigh, “Don’t hold back either.”
Tom hums in response before dipping his head down and enveloping your nipple in his mouth, flicking it with his tongue teasingly. He rubs your other nipple with his thumb, simultaneously stimulating you. You whimper, heat from your still buzzed body rushing to your clit. Your hips roll in response, and you’re sure Tom can feel your dampened panties against his chest. He gives your nipple a sharp tug with his teeth before focusing on your needy core. He leaves an open-mouthed kiss on your clothed heat before removing your underwear. Still buzzed from all the alcohol earlier, Tom tries his best to be soft with you despite the pit of desire growing between you. You want him- all of him, and you want it now. And Tom wants you. Before you can speak, Tom’s warm mouth meets your folds, his tongue lapping at your arousal. You squirm from the sudden stimulation, but he stills your hips with his grip. A hand flies to Tom’s mussed-up hair as he plunges his tongue into you, his nose pressing to your clit. He inhales your scent, and it intoxicates him more than alcohol ever could. Shaking his head, Tom’s nose rubs against your clit perfectly as his tongue fucks you. Your whole body is up in flames, your fingers tightening in his hair. 
You’re muttering incoherent praises as you ride Tom’s face. He replaces his tongue with two of his fingers, your relaxed wetness allowing him to slip them in easily. They scissor against your fluttering walls as Tom sucks on your bundle of nerves. Your fuzzy mind keeps you from hiding how good his mouth feels on you, and your moans grow louder. His mouth leaves your cunt abruptly before reattaching to yours, silencing you immediately.
“Gotta be quiet,” Tom huffs against your lips, “People are still downstairs, love.”
You wrap your legs around him again, grinding yourself into his still-clothed cock. He’s the one to moan this time, slipping his tongue into your mouth and letting you taste yourself. You unwrap your legs and work to unfasten Tom’s trousers, pushing them down his thighs. He kicks them off the rest of the way, along with his underwear, as he continues to kiss you. You reach down between your bodies and palm Tom’s length, to which he groans into your mouth. You guide his tip to your entrance, allowing him to comfortably push into you. Your hands grasp Tom’s shoulder blades, your nails lightly digging into his skin with every inch that enters you. You whimper in pleasure at him finally being inside you after longing for it all night. Tom bottoms out with a content sigh, also elated at the feeling of you clenching around his length after craving it for so long. 
Your chests heave against one another, your forehead pressed to Tom’s. His enticing blue eyes meet yours as he slowly pulls out before slamming his hips against yours. You gasp, arching your back and letting butterflies swarm in your belly when Tom kisses the corner of your mouth. He fucks into you again, slowly building a steady pace. Your lips barely brush against Tom’s as he snaps his body into yours. Your buzz has now faded away, allowing you to feel him entirely sober. He sneaks his hand between you and presses his thumb to your clit, making you hiss at the sudden stimulation. Your head pushes against the pillows, exposing your throat. Tom lets his hand lazily wrap around it, not squeezing but instead holding it as he grazes his teeth on your skin there as he kisses your neck. 
“Feel so good around me,” Tom says dazedly, and you feel his eyelashes flutter under your jaw, “So gorgeous.”
Your hand rests in his hair again, gently combing through his locks as he rocks into you faster. His weight on you, his thumb still rubbing your clit, and his hand around your neck seals the deal for you as he plows into that sweet spot inside you. 
“Tom,” you moan, “I’m close.”
“Me too, baby. Me too,” he whispers into your skin, leaving soft kisses in contrast to his rough thrusts.
“You feel so good,” you mutter, your chin resting on Tom’s head.
Tom lifts your leg and places it on his shoulder, allowing him to hit a new angle inside you. You bury your face in his hair to deafen the cry that escapes you in response. 
“Right there,” you pant, your hands desperately holding onto Tom’s hair as your mouth hangs open in silent pleasure.
Tom breathes heavily into your neck, using all the energy he has left to mercilessly fuck your weeping cunt. You feel your stomach tensing, alerting you of your impending orgasm. Tom chants your name as he firmly presses his thumb into your clit, causing the tightly wound knot inside you to snap undone. Your thigh clamps into the side of Tom’s neck while the other shakes against the bare skin of his sweat sheened back. The feeling of your tight pussy pulsating around him makes Tom explode inside you with a gasp. You grip Tom’s hair desperately as you milk him of everything he has, his thumb still not letting up on your clit. Another orgasm washes over you suddenly. This time it makes you convulse, your cunt gushing around Tom and dripping down your thighs as you cry out in pleasure. 
“Fuck,” you gasp for air, Tom pulling out of you.
He moves down to your pussy, cleaning up the cum spilling from you with a hungry tongue. You’re so sensitive that your thighs slam into the sides of Tom’s head. He suckles your clit for a moment for good measure, making you writhe underneath him. You pathetically whimper when he pulls away, finally catching your breath. Tom returns to his previous position on top of you, his face buried in your neck. He wraps his arms around you, softly stroking your skin. 
“Wow,” you giggle, letting your nose dig into Tom’s brunette hair.
“Yeah,” he smirks, “You’re amazing.”
“That’s all you, I’m afraid,” you say.
Tom hums, “I disagree, sweetheart.”
He rolls over momentarily, lifting the duvet for you to climb under. He embraces you again, holding you close as if you’ll disappear like some sort of dream. You wrap your arms around Tom’s, smiling as he presses his nose to your hair. 
“I still haven’t put my finger on it,” you say after a moment of silence.
“Hmm? On what?”
“That something about you.”
“I guess you’ll have to stick around and find out, then.”
“Deal,” you chuckle, “Merry Christmas, Tom.”
“Merry Christmas, beautiful.”
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taglist:
@barbaraelaine @devotedly-sassy @nowitsmissing @arzua10 @screamqueenpink
659 notes · View notes
lewisvinga · 2 months
Text
american | logan sargeant
summary; y/n was never one to mess around and rebel against her parents, until she met a fellow american, logan
warnings; clubbing/partying, drinking
word count; 1.15k
taglist; @namgification @louvrepool @locelscs @thehufflepuffavenger1
note; american boyyyy, not rlly proofread tbh
‘born to die’ series masterlist.
masterlist !
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“Y/n, fix your posture and stand up straight.”
Y/n’s mother scolded her as they entered a family friend's house. They were invited to an event to kick off the summer at the Sargeants, friends of the L/n family, in Miami.
Y/n sighed as she listened to her mother and stood straight, fixing her knee-length dress. She was never one to disobey her parents. Despite studying at the University of Miami, she never attended parties or drank. She never rebelled.
Her mother hums in satisfaction as they walk farther into the house to head to the backyard where everyone is. Y/n was soft-spoken and quiet, following her parents around as they greeted everyone.
But after an hour, she got thirsty and decided to get a bottle of water. The water cooler was right next to the beers and other alcoholic beverages. She glanced at the cooler for a second too long when a voice interrupted her.
“Well, Y/n L/n. You look so pretty.”
She looked up in shock and was met with familiar icy blue eyes and a cheeky smile she hadn’t seen since she was 13. “Logan! You’re back?” She exclaimed with a smile.
“It’s been a hot minute but the Miami Grand Prix is next week and I had this week off.” The Blonde explained with a smile. His head then nodded towards the cooler of the alcoholic beverages, “Which one do you like?”
“Oh, no!” Y/n exclaimed, quickly shaking her head before reaching for a water bottle. “I don’t drink. Never have.”
“And you go to UMiami and you don’t drink? At all?”
She simply shrugged in reply, fiddling with the ends of her yellow sundress. “No. Don’t really party either. But it’s fine, I like to focus on studying-“
“Nonsense!” Logan interrupted her, “You’re still a goody two shoes. You were always scared to step out of line.” He chuckled.
Her eyebrows furrowed up as her cheeks started to heat up. “No!” She said in defense. “Maybe? I mean, I don’t want to break any of their rules. I’m grateful for all that they give me!”
“Hey,” The Williams driver began with a cheeky smile, “Wanna head out of here? Take a spin ‘round town. The weather's nice.”
His blue eyes remained on hers as she let out a small hum. She glanced back at her parents who were already drinking and busy talking to their friends. She looked at him with a smile before saying, “Fine. Let’s get out of here.”
⋆ ˚。⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚。⋆⋆ ˚。⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚。⋆⋆ ˚。⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚。⋆
“Oh, Springsteen!” Y/n exclaimed as the familiar voice of the singer began to play in Logan’s Porsche. The top was opened and there was a slight breeze as he drove through the neighborhood.
“Of course!” The Blonde replied, glancing over at her. “Dude he’s like the king. Don’t you think?” He said, tilting his head down so she could see his eyes from above his black sunglasses.
She chuckles as she adjusts the Prada glasses resting on her nose. “Oh, hell yes! That guy can sing. But personally, I’m a fan of Elvis.”
“Presley?” He asked in shock.
“Oh, yeah! He’s the best.”
“What’s your favorite record of his?”
“I’m a big fan of Burning Love at the moment.”
Thankfully, there was a red light right at the neighborhood exit. Logan reaches for his phone which is already connected to his car to play the song. Y/n couldn’t help but let out an excited laugh as the familiar intro began to play.
The light turned green and he began to drive on the main roads. The speed limit was higher which meant that as he sped down the roads, the strong winds compensated for the hot sun shining down on them.
Y/n felt very relaxed even though she and Logan secretly left the party. The breeze and Elvis’ voice relaxed her as she went into a deep conversation with him.
Thankfully, her glasses covered up her curious eyes as they glanced over him. He had gotten quite a bit of a tan but it made him glow in the Miami sun. He was much taller than when she had seen him last when they were 13. And if anything, he had gotten a lot more attractive.
Her thoughts were interrupted by his teasing voice. “What are you staring at?” He asked with a smile, noticing her glances at a red light.
She immediately froze in the spot and began to stutter. “I- Well. The trees are lovely and-“
“Relax! I’m just messing with you.” Logan said between laughs as he focused back on the road and the green light, “Besides, I think you’re pretty good-looking now too.”
Y/n playfully rolled her eyes as she leaned over to lightly slap his shoulder. She glances to her side, watching the buildings and people turn into a blur as the wind blows her hair behind.
Part of her wanted to stay obedient to her parents. After all, they were parents and provided everything for her. They paid for her college, her car, her clothes, and bags, the least she could do was listen to their rules.
But another part also wanted to be a carefree college student. She wanted to have fun and not regret her days in college. She wanted to be young, dope, and proud like an American.
She turned to look back at Logan before saying, “Let’s go clubbing. I want to have fun.”
The blonde looked at her shocked before his lips curled into a smile. “Oh yeah? What’s gotten into you?”
“Just done with being afraid to break my parents' rule. I want to be young, wild, and free.”
“Well, it’s Miami, so we gotta get you a new dress.”
Y/n furrowed up her eyebrows as she glanced down at her long yellow sundress, brown Hermes sandals, and white cardigan. “What’s wrong with my outfit?” She asked with a frown.
Logan raised his eyebrow. “Y/n, you’ve lived in Miami your whole life. The party scene is different here.” He explained, taking a right turn which fortunately for them, was a shopping center. “Honey, you need to put on that party dress. Like you said, you want to be young, wild, and free.”
“Fine,” Y/n said with a smile as he searched for parking. “But you’re coming with me! I have my dad’s credit card and a mall filled with designer stores. And I’m gonna make sure I find the right outfit.” She grasps her Chanel bag as Logan exits the car and quickly rushes to her side to open the door.
“Well, anything to be young, dope, and proud, right?” He said, holding his arm out. She immediately hooked her arm with his, ignoring the faint blush on both of their faces.
She glanced up at his ice-blue eyes as she let out a content sigh, “Like an American.”
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bradshawssugarbaby · 3 months
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Can’t Help Falling In Love - Bradley Bradshaw x Reader
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summary: -> When your newborn daughter can't sleep one night, Bradley knows just what to do.
A/N: Here’s a little blurb I did for @ohtobeleah’s Galentine’s Day challenge 🩷 This song is one that I sang/sing to my own baby, so I felt really inspired to just write some wholesome fluff with Bradley as a new dad singing it to his baby, and his wife 🩷
pairing: Bradley Bradshaw x fem! reader
warnings/content: sickly sweet fluff with Bradley as a new dad and being romantic.
word count: 1k
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“Shall I stay, would it be a sin, if I can’t help falling in love with you?”
You padded down the hallway to where the sound of your husband’s soft, melodic voice was echoing from. You entered your infant daughter’s room and smiled softly as you saw Bradley cradling baby Sawyer in his arms, humming softly to her as he kissed her head. You stood in the doorway, leaning against the wooden frame as you looked on, Bradley none the wiser as you watched him comfort your baby.
“Take my hand, take my whole life too, for I can’t help falling in love with you.”
Bradley shut his eyes delicately as he held Sawyer’s tiny body close to his chest, continuing to hum the notes of his favorite Elvis song in a soft, hushed tone as he rocked back and forth in an effort to lull his sweet girl to sleep. Bradley turned towards the door and opened his eyes to see you. His expression softened, melting into a sweet, content smile, his amber coloured eyes gazing at you from behind his thick, dark eyelashes that you’d always been envious of.
“Hi honey, sorry, Sawyer didn’t wanna go down, was just tryin’ to sing her to sleep. My mom used to sing this to me when I was a kid, she always swore it worked. Guess my dad used to sing it too,” Bradley huffed a soft, melancholic sigh as he thought back to his own father and how he had so little to remember him by, having passed just a month after Bradley turned two.
“It was sweet, I love hearing you sing,” you murmured quietly as you cozied up to Bradley’s side, smiling softly while you pressed your lips against his cheek in a tender, loving kiss.
“I think Sawyer likes hearing me too, she settled right down while I was singing to her.”
“That’s because you’re soothing her. She loves you and loves the sound of your voice, feeling you hold her close, it makes her feel safe.”
“It does?”
“Mhmm, you bet it does.”
Bradley smiled proudly as he glanced over at you, still hugging Sawyer close to his bare chest. Stroking her back gently, he pressed his lips to her forehead once again, gently kissing her as she snored softly. His pajama pants hung low on his waist, his toned, tan skin dotted with freckles. He never slept with a t-shirt on to begin with, but the minute he read that letting a newborn sleep on your bare chest was beneficial to the baby, he started to forgo wearing one at home at all. He dove all in, head first, the moment he found out you were pregnant, determined to be the kind of father his dad would be proud of, the kind of father his dad would have been if he’d had a chance to do it for more than two years.
Baby and parenting books had begun appearing throughout your home shortly after you’d told him, multiplying slowly, one by one as they began to collect on the shelf, magazines about raising children suddenly coming in the form of subscriptions to your door on a monthly basis. Bradley had begun coming home from a day of training, spouting off new ideas for names, suggesting whatever he heard or came across that day. He was as involved as anyone could hope for, his determination to be someone who made you proud, made his baby proud, and would have made his parents proud serving as a driving force to motivate him. On one occasion, you came home from spending a day out in the city to find every piece of nursery furniture perfectly assembled, waiting for your direction as to where you wanted it placed. As nervous as Bradley was about making you proud, there was never a single doubt in your mind about it - he was meant to be an excellent father, just like he was meant to be an excellent pilot. It was just who he was.
Bradley gently laid Sawyer down to sleep in her crib, smiling down at her as she stirred for a second, holding his breath as he hoped she stayed sleeping. As she continued to snore softly, he exhaled, relieved she was still sound asleep. He wrapped an arm around your waist, pulling your body in close to his as you both watched Sawyer in complete awe, almost unable to believe something so small and sweet could have come from either of you.
“Now, Mrs. Bradshaw, we’ve forgotten something important about today,” he whispered softly, stroking your hair as he tucked it behind your ear, his touch delicate and gentle.
“Hmm?”
“Valentine’s Day. We forgot it. I didn’t even remember to bring flowers home for you.”
“We did? Are you sure?”
“Positive. February 14th.”
You stifled a laugh as you shook your head, smiling at Bradley as he showed you today’s date on his phone screen. He kissed your forehead gently, his lips hovering for a moment as he hummed.
“I’ll make it up to you.”
“There’s no need. Sawyer’s a pretty great Valentine’s Day gift.”
“She’s two months old, hun, I don’t think you having our baby counts as your gift.”
“Sure she does. You just gave her to me a little early.”
“More like you gave her to me. I didn’t do much.”
You extended your hand out to stroke Bradley’s cheek fondly, beaming as your eyes met his.
“You gave me her. Without you, I wouldn’t have Sawyer. And I wouldn’t have a loving, wonderful husband either. And, I wouldn’t get to hear you sing all the time.”
“Oh, you like the singing?” Bradley smirked, playfully whispering as he led you out of the room, pulling the door closed quietly behind you.
“I do, in fact.”
“Well then, honey—“ Bradley began before taking a breath and beginning to sing once more.
“Wise men say, ‘only fools rush in’, but I can’t help, falling in love with you.”
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ambrozjas · 3 months
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the gang x reader who loves makeup ꨄ︎
the outsiders x reader (separate)
✧˖*°࿐ notes 🧸ᰔᩚ
guys i swear i’m working on your requests i just wanted to use this as a filler to feed you guys while you wait, but trust me, i’m workin on it 💕 thank you for all the likes and reqs !! love you all xoxo
✧˖*°࿐ warnings ᰔᩚ
some curse words, makeup, reader is compared to “a girl in a magazine” in johnnys part, kissing?? i dunno 😭
. ˚◞♡ ⃗ *ೃ༄ . ˚◞♡ ⃗ *ೃ༄ . ˚◞♡ ⃗ *ೃ༄ . ˚◞♡ ⃗ *ೃ༄
DARRY’s thumb rubs along your thigh. he lay on his bed while you were sat at the desk besides him. you placed your vanity mirror on the wooden surface and had been working on your makeup for about half an hour.
darry had seen his mother put on makeup whenever she’d go out with his father, so he had a better idea of makeup than someone like steve or two bit. he liked whenever you asked him questions like ‘this or that’.
“which one? peach or mint?” you asked as you held up two lip glosses, the peach gloss in a soft pink tube and the mint in a sage green one.
darry seemed to think for a moment, humming in thought. “th’peach one.” he finally said, nodding his head in the direction of where you were holding the peach tube.
“thanks, dare.” you mumbled, your lips forming an ‘o’ shape, ready for application.
“why do you always put on makeup?” he asks, eyes fixated on you. a satisfying pop of your lips before you look over to him and shrug.
“dunno, makes me feel pretty.”
“you’re always pretty, darlin’.” darry continues, moving his hand from your thigh to your hand, interlocking both your fingers and squeezing.
。゚•┈୨♡୧┈• 。゚
“how d’ya get that thing so close to your eye?” SODAPOP asks. you’ve been doing your makeup for about ten minutes, soda watching you like a hawk.
“i just raise my eyelid and put the curler to my lashes, piece’a cake.” you shrug, mouth open as you apply some mascara. “really?” he asked, taking a glance at your drawer full of makeup products, an assortment of pretty colored tubes, he would guess were either for your lips or eyes.
“yeah, why? you want some?” you laughed, expecting a ‘no’ in return but got only silence. you looked back at him. soda had just shrugged exaggeratedly.
one thing let to another and you ended up perched on sodapop’s lap, his eyes closed as you decorated his lids with blue eyeshadow.
“soda—! don’t crinkle your eyes!” you exclaimed, your boyfriend simply chuckled and gently grasped your wrist. “‘s not my fault it tickles, babe.”
soda opens his eyes to look at you, pulling your palm to his lips for a soft kiss.
“you know, you just ruined the eyeshadow, right? your eyes are hooded so the shadow will get—“
“shh, i’m tryna be romantic ‘ere.”
。゚•┈୨♡୧┈• 。゚
“oh, PONYBOY!” you squealed, dragging out the ‘y’ in his name and running down the hallway already carrying your makeup bag.
you poke your head in through the doorway to find pony laying on his bed, nose buried in another one of his books. he glanced at you, already suspicious of the fact that the rest of your body isn’t visible.
“huh?” he questioned, his eyes flickering between the words of the book. “you wanna be the best boyfriend ever and do me a favor, pony?” you grinned as you dragged out the syllables in his name.
“what’re you doin’?” he inquired. you started to step slowly into view, your bag held behind your back. “i just need’a see somethin’ real quick.” he sat up a bit as you got closer to him and placed the book on the desk next to his bed, careful to mark the page he was on with a bookmark.
you finally bring your hands around to your front, unveiling the small makeup bag filled to the brim with products.
“oh, no.”
“oh, yes.”
“no! you ain’t touchin’ my face!”
and before he knows it, ponyboy has a face full of makeup on and you’re finishing it off with some sparkly highlighter on his nose.
。゚•┈୨♡୧┈• 。゚
you had a date with JOHNNY at the drive-in, planning to see one of elvis’ new movies.
you had done your makeup, using the multitude of products you had in your room, and you looked snatched. your hair was cute, whether greased up or not, it never failed to look effortlessly gorgeous, johnny always thought so.
he was already waiting at the drive-in, accompanied by dallas who unfortunately was “chaperoning” him for the night, probably just trying to keep a lookout for drunk broads.
when you had arrived though, boy, was johnny astonished. his eyes widened at just the sight of you, it was like you were a princess walking up to him in slow motion.
once you had caught up to him and dally, johnny couldn’t help but mutter, “y’look like one of those ladies from the magazines..”, he gawked at just the utter sight of you.
“thank you?” you giggled and gave a quick peck to his lips. “i’ll get us a coke!” you jogged over to the concessions area with a bunched up wad of money in your hand. johnny watched you walk away, mouth still parted a bit in shock.
dallas, being the shithead he is, rudely tapped johnny’s cheek, making him close his mouth. “you’ll catch flies, johnny.” he said, exhaling the smoke from his cigarette.
once you two had actually sat down, dally chatting up some girl a few feet away, johnny turns to you. “s’that a new lipgloss?”
“yeah, you like it?” you asked, blowing him an exaggerated air kiss after.
“tastes sweet.”
。゚•┈୨♡୧┈• 。゚
“c’mon, doll, it’s been like twenty minutes.”
“hold on, DALLY, i have to finish this wing!” you affirmed, your words altered with the way you opened your mouth so your skin would stretch, giving you the perfect opportunity with eyeliner and mascara. one struggle almost everybody goes through, is getting the other eyeliner wing to match the other.
“you’ve been at this for a while, just draw a line ‘n call it a night.” dallas insisted, he didn’t much like waiting, and he never understood why people took so much time just to do their makeup.
“no, you don’t understand. it has to be perfect.” you said, enunciating the ‘p’. you look at dallas in the reflection of the mirror and see him sigh in defeat and hollow his cheeks with another inhale of a cancer stick.
“you better not be smokin’ that thing in here, stinkin’ up my whole room.” you wrinkled your nose, the smell of cigarettes never leaves your room as long as dallas comes over.
“you do it too.”
“i smoke outside, not where it’ll penetrate a whole room full of cute things.” you rebutted.
“whatever you say, doll.”
。゚•┈୨♡୧┈• 。゚
“do i look like a pretty princess?” TWO-BIT asked as you applied blush on his cheeks. you and his kid sister giggled at the sight. two’s eyes covered with all sorts of bright pinks and yellows and blues, colors that his little sister suggested.
“yes keith, you look like a pretty princess.” you said, watching two’s nose scrunch at the brush tickling his cheeks.
“what next?” you asked to his sister, turning to her as she held a finger to her chin in thought. then, it was like a light bulb went off inside her head. she grinned at you, a catlike smile that you returned, one that made two-bit worried about what would come next.
“lipstick.” was all she said, and immediately she handed you a bright red lipstick. you let out a soft laugh as you looked at two-bit’s expression, cocking an eyebrow as usual.
“you ain’t doin’ what i think you’re doin’, right?” he asks, then you wiggle the tube of lipstick at him, getting it closer as he shifts away. he placed his hands up in defense, “baby—! c’mon, you wouldn’t do that to your wonderful lovely boyfriend, would you?”
as he tries to scurry off, you hook your leg around his waist and keep him in place while his little sister laughs hysterically in the background. you grip his cheeks so his lips could purse, giving you the perfect access to apply his lipstick.
he ends up looking like a scrapped lisa frank design and that lipstick ends up in kiss marks littering your face, accompanied by ‘eww’s’ in the back provided by two’s sister.
。゚•┈୨♡୧┈• 。゚
“shit! it burns!” STEVE yells, his lips a cherry red with irritation.
“why’d you put it on your lips?” you threw your arms up, representing a ‘what the hell?’.
“thought it was your lipstick thingies!”
“why would you put it on your lips in the first place, steve?” you laughed and rushed over to get a paper towel and a few ice cube. “i thought it’d taste good.” he muttered, his lips a comical plump as he glared at the tube, feeling silly how he didn’t read the white letters on it saying ‘duck plump’.
when you came back, you sat down next to steve, gently wiping off the gloss before he snatched the napkin and wiped it off aggressively himself, desperate to get it off.
you both looked at each other before he looked down at the ice cube. “wha’s ‘at supposed to do?” he asked. you stammered, “i don’t know you were in hysterics! ‘pleasee! oh please get it off! it burns—!’” you cut yourself off with a laugh, laying back on the bed.
“yeah, yeah. whatever..” he grumbles, throwing another glare at the lip plumping gloss that lay abandoned on your desk.
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˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ thank you all so much for all the love n requests, i swear i’m writing them just give me some time 🫶
kiss kiss ˗ˏˋ꒰ 🍒 ꒱
700 notes · View notes
eee-lordy · 3 months
Note
Hiiii! Can you write about jacob elordi x fem reader who is in charge of the makeup and outfits on saltburn or elvis?
Maybe there is a video going viral where he is looking at her (WITH THOSE PUPPY DOG EYES HAHSHAJDVDSJ IM GONNA EAT HIM) while she is doing his make up and she is clueless, yk those videos where the music is lana del rey and the caption is like "me when im literaly obsessed with her" or "when hes completely in love with u>>>>>"
And when that goes viral, the cast teases him and they go on a date?
Idk i think its cute :3
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───※ ·❆· ※───
You were never one to get star struck. In the year and a half you'd been professionally applying makeup to the mugs of many stars, you'd been unfazed by celebrities captivating auras. You hardly blushed when Chris Pine tried asking you out as he sat in your makeup chair. You'd laughed in understandable assurance as Billie Eilish apologized for almost knocking your powder kit from your grasp; when her brother burst in the room to surprise her. You saw your clients as just that, people who trusted you to properly apply blush and fake scars.
But all the composure you'd been proud to claim went out the window when you'd been assigned to work with the cast of Sofia Coppola new film. You hadn't expected to lose your cool. In fact, you'd been rolling your eyes as the hair stylist that shared your caravan had droned on and on about this new Elordi fellow and how dreamy he was. Some of the other workers in the hair and makeup department parroted her yearning for the guy. But you were certain you'd remain calm and cool in this supposed deities presence.
And then he sat down in your chair. And he looked up to you with an intriguing set of droopy dark eyes. And you knew Jacob Elordi was about to be a real problem for you.
It wasn't his fame. You weren't swept up by his essence because of the collective crowd on the internet drooling over the guy. It wasn't even his magnetism. Because he did have a lot of that, you wavered it was necessary to survive fame. But it was more the way he would look up at you from that make up chair. With those dumb stupid big beautiful eyes.  And his smile that followed. And then the infuriating way he'd start conversations with you, those first few days on set.
"What'd you have for breakfast this morning?" Jacob would wonder, watching as you readied a sponge. You would answer and ask for his in return. He would mention stopping by a cafe earlier and go on to ask you where you grew up and if you liked it there and what the best book you've ever read was called. 
"You've got to stop chatting away, makes it hard to do your touch up's." You'd smile, reaching out to adjust Jacobs perfect fucking face so you could work on his brows. 
"Sorry." He breathed out, seemingly genuinely guilty. He went on explaining himself still, slowly as you continued to do your job. "Don't like awkward silence. Or bullshit small talk. Getting to know you seemed like the safest route. Since you'll be covering the dark circles under my eye's this whole shoot."
You laughed in understanding before announcing that you got it, and waved over the hairdresser on site today. 
"Wait, before you go, that book you mentioned..." Jacob pointed your way as you turned for closing up your kit of brushes. Then you watched as the guy wrestled his cellphone from his jacket pocket. "Here," Jacob said, extending the device your way. "Write the title in my notes app. I will forget, but I don't want too. It sounded properly readable."
"Oh." You turned your lips down in a twisted grin of surprise. As you took the device from Jacob's grasp, you felt a surge of gratification that the guy trusted you enough with his phone let alone wanted to read a book you mention not having read since uni. 
Not missing the way the hairdresser rolled her eyes, you grinned and found Jacobs notes app with ease, straining not to glance beyond your means. With the press of a few buttons you wrote down the title, and fought off the impulsive urge to include your very own phone number as well. That would be embarrassing, knowing full well this man would never call or text or probably even dare to glance your way beyond the makeup chair. 
///
The next few weeks went by the same. Jacob would yammer away until you almost had to hold his mouth shut to finish his makeup. And you would fill the silence by telling stories of your own, because he'd mentioned he wasn't fond of silence and you knew your job went beyond applying lip liner, it was also to keep celebrities happy as royalty.
And all the while you blinked away thoughts of how funny he was. How beautiful Jacob was. You wouldn't let yourself realize he was exactly your type. You wouldn't let yourself dream that you might be his. You simply relished the times you made him laugh. Once you made him laugh so hard he cried, tear tracks ruining the powder you'd only just applied. 
The hairdresser who was the leader of fawning over Jacob as soon as he left the room had taken to frowning in your direction most days. You reckoned it was because she'd never been able to make him laugh that hard, or at all, ever. And the stories she told him when he asked her to seemed to lose his interest halfway through every time. Try as Jacob might, you saw his eyes glaze over as the hairstylist droned on about her retirement plan or the grocery list she'd put together that day.
After acknowledging her sorry excuse for conversation Jacob would stop you from packing up and heading to lunch so he could ask you for more books to read, more films to watch, more stories from you. Then his assistant would interrupt, or he'd be called to set and you'd be left to head to the craft table with dangerous feelings of lust and intrigue to push away. You would not let this boy break you of your career long streak of professionalism, damn it.
///
One night, in the middle of a week break from set, you spent an evening scrolling mindlessly. When a tiktok with Jacob's name in the tags popped up, you scrolled away at the speed of light. You didn't let yourself linger too long on posts with him there, not wanting to know anything good bad or otherwise so long as you were assigned to work with him on this project. But it wasn't long before another tiktok popped up featuring the guy in a very familiar setting. He was too famous at this point. You watched as you saw leaked footage from behind the scenes of Priscilla, but weren't too shocked. The stars of the film were occasionally being interviewed by publicists between takes to document their experience, beginning to promote the film.
And maybe you let yourself keep watching out of a sense of entitlement, you'd been working on this set. You could watch a video of Jacob from work, right? You couldn't tear your eyes from him no matter how hard you tried now anyway. You watched as the person holding the camera zoomed in on the guy while he adjusted his suit jacket. You watched as he seemed to talk to the costars at his side. You watched as he looked up and smiled. And you couldn't help but melt a little at the sight, he seemed so happy, so at ease. And then you watched as Jacob's grin widened as he waved someone closer. And much to your horror, you saw yourself step into frame. 
You remembered that day, where you waited on the side lines to fix Cailee's eyeliner. While the director was storming up a new camera angle, Jacob waved you over to mention the last chapter of your favorite book he'd almost finished reading. He was laughing over a bit that you'd warned him about the week before. And you were laughing over how excited he was about it, finally having someone to gush over your favorite plot with.
Now, huddled beneath the blankets of your bed, you slammed your phone down at your side, bewildered to know someone had caught your interaction on camera. Raddled to have just seen Jacob lighting up at the sight of you. Angry at yourself for hopping you'd read his body language in a way that suggested he really liked you that much.
When you picked your phone back up, you watched the candid moment over and over, trying to debunk Jacob's smile. Trying to convince yourself he was only being friendly, only cared because he had to find someone to mingle with during down beats. 
And then you read the comments. 
"If Jacob smiled at me like that, I would die."
"Imagine making him laugh like that she's so lucky."
"Who is she??" One comment read. "Her last name will be Elordi if he hasn't married her already, calling it." Someone replied.
You shouldn't have read the comments.
///
When you were due back on set you swallowed away the excitement bubbling up in you at the prospect of seeing Jacob again. This was so unlike you, to be awaiting the arrival of your client with an embarrassing giddiness. As you reminded yourself that this was your job and Jacob was simply a guest in your makeup chair- the man himself eased into the caravan, ready to get ready for the day.
"Hey, you! I had a bunch of points earned up to get two free coffees so I brought you one. I remember you said you like almond milk so I asked for that." Jacob was all smiles as he extended a latte to you. Awe fuck. 
"Thank you, Jacob." You struggled not to sigh with angst as you accepted his very generous surprise. Luckily, he seemed none the wiser that you'd answered through gritted teeth. He just kept smiling as he headed to your chair.
"Oh, me first today lovie. Need to start your dye straight off, you're little makeup girlfriend will have to wait." The hairdresser announced, daring to grab Jacob by his sleeve, yanking him toward her end of the trailer. The other workers around rolled their eyes, sick of her endless commentary. You bit your tongue as you leaned against the counter, shaking your head when a coworker scoffed in the hairdresser's direction. Luckily, Cailee waltz in, ready for you before anyone else. You thanked God for the distraction, readying your brow pencil and chatted to the girl about her break from set. 
All the while, your least favorite coworkers voice demanded to be the loudest in the room. She made everyone listen to some boring ass story and practically whinnied when Jacob got up to trade Cailee places. 
"No offence, you're fine and all, just don't have hair as silky smooth as Jacob's." The hairdresser told Cailee but made sure her comment was loud enough for everyone to hear. "Oh wait, silly me," 
As Jacob settled in the makeup chair and began to ask if the drink he'd brought you was good, the hairdresser of your nightmares shoved her way between you and the person you were meant to be working on. 
"I left of a bobby pin, how'd I forget," She droned in an annoying pitch, nearly shoving you over in her attempt to get closer to Jacob. 
"Can you please get out of my space?" You called, annoyed that she was pushing you away from your station without a single polite excuse.
"Can you please stop being such a jealous bitch?" The hairdresser whipped to face you with a manic smile.
"Oh my God?" You almost laughed in shock at her comment when another coworker dared to reach out and pulled her away, and out of the trailer. Another hairdresser apologized to the room for the previous girl's behavior and stepped up to lead charge of Cailee's wig.
With no time to shake the rage that had been born in you, you pushed it down, biting your lip hard as you went about finding the right sponge for Jacob's foundation. 
"Are you okay?" He asked, seemingly worried. And that pissed you off too. Why'd he have to act like he cared so much? Why'd he have to be so damn wonderful?
"I'm fine. Thank you again for the coffee, it...is kind of bitter but it was a really sweet gesture, I swear. Close your eye's please." You responded as calm and cool as possible.
"Bitter... sweet..." Jacob winked, just for you to see. It was the best thing you'd ever witness. And the worst all the same. You were sure you blushed. You tilted his chin and struggling to suppress how much you'd miss when you didn't get to be this close to him. He stayed quiet as you finished his face, and so did you. When his makeup was done, almost everyone else had left the trailer. The last remaining beautician was walking out as you'd closed the case to your kit. 
"I thought you didn't like awkward silence." You dared to mention, as Jacob stood to leave. It wasn't like you'd thought to ask. It was just a thought that ended up blurted out. And then you were bold enough still to look up and right at the guy with those perfectly shaped eyes to find he'd already been staring right at you. 
"S'not so awkward with you."
You really wish he hadn't said that. You really wished you'd never prompted him too. You really wished he wasn't still standing there looking across the features of your face like he was waiting on you to respond. There was a knock on the door just in time, and a voice calling for Jacob to hurry to set. 
"I'll see you after lunch, right?" Jacob wondered as he moved toward the door. You muttered something like "Yeah sure," as you turned to start collecting your things. As far as Jacob knew you were headed to the craft table. But as your feet started marching out of the trailer, you found yourself headed toward the manager of the crew you'd been hired in with. You explained to her that you really thought it was best you turned in your resignation. 
You'd never dared yourself to tread the line during work. Never been so enamored with someone you were meant to be professional with. It wasn't in your best interest to see how far this went. And it wasn't in Jacobs best interest that you kept lingering around distracting him with stories and novel suggestions.
So, on a decided whim, you packed your things, swallowed frustrated tears, and headed home for good.
///
You let yourself be mad once your front door was shut and locked. You threw away the stupid coffee Jacob bought you. You turned the telly off and tossed the remote toward the hardwood when Euphoria came on. You muttered and cursed and slammed cabinets as you made a carb heavy comfort meal and called your best friend. 
The day went on and turned to night as you tried to stop feeling sorry for yourself. You began getting ready for bed, talking yourself into sleeping off all the weird feelings and events that had transpired today. Tomorrow, you'd find a new job and make sure to decline any with that one awful hairdressers name on the list of beauticians. 
As you sat on the edge of your bed and set a reminder for yourself to job hunt tomorrow afternoon, a notification interrupted your typing. 
Instagram was alerting you that one certain Jacob Elordi was sending you a fucking message. He'd followed you a couple weeks ago, when you handed him your phone to show him a picture of your beloved childhood pet. He scrolled away from it and found your handle to promptly pull up on his very own Instagram, following you with a smile.
Your eyes widened and your thumb worked faster than your brain, clicking the popup before you could talk yourself out of it. Oh, shit now he was going to know you opened his fucking stupid ass message. You really wished you hadn't met this boy. He wasn't even here and he was torturing your every thought. 
"You were NOT there after lunch as promised. Call me? xx"
Before your eyes displayed a row of numbers that if pressed would call Jacob Elordi's cell phone. You tried really hard to talk yourself out of it. But being away from him for the last ten hours had really done a number on your heart. It missed him more than your brain was afraid to admit. Your thumb clicked the numbers. Your phone started to ring. 
After one buzz he answered. 
"I got off set to hear you'd quit and left me to bear that horrid hairdresser without you? Was the coffee really that bad?" Jacob's voice crackled through the line, soft and saccharine. You chuckled morosely at his coffee joke before responding.
"No pleasant greeting. What if it wasn't me calling? What if it was some crazy fan girl?" You dared to venture. 
"Are you saying you're not a fan of mine?"
You wanted to assure him that you were probably his biggest, but sighed in place of a response, struggling to choose your words. 
"What happened? That hairdresser should be fired. You shouldn't've left." Jacob spoke, as you watched the traffic out your window and relished the sound of his voice in your ear. 
"It..." You couldn't help it. You couldn't hide it any longer. "It wasn't really her. I quit because of you, Jacob."
"Me? I- I'm sorry I thought we-" He sounded too worried, and you realized you'd spoken a little too cryptically.
"Not because you did anything wrong." You hurried to explain, interrupting his unnecessary apology. "It's me, not you." 
"Is this a break up? I never even got to ask you on a proper date." He laughed a humorless laugh.
"That's the thing." You said. "I like you way more than I should've ever let myself. It's too unprofessional for me to work with you and have these feelings. I'm sorry, I shouldn't even be telling you this. Everyone treats you like a piece of meat, I hate that I-"
"So... what I'm hearing..." Jacob's voice rose a bit as he interrupted you, catching your attention off guard. "Is that I can actually ask you on a proper date? And this doesn't have to be a break up at all."
"Oh! I- wait are you joking?" You blurted, shocked by the tone of his voice and the fact that it seemed like Jacob Elordi was asking you out. 
"I like you too, dummy. I've been doing my damnedest to make that clear. You know I don't just follow every wardrobe artist on Instagram and bring camera men cafe treats. I used my free coffee on you! I'm so sorry it was no good though." 
"It wasn't the worst coffee ever." You smiled, feeling a calm and hopeful buzz wash over you. 
"Well, let me take you on a proper date, for a proper cup of coffee, and talk you back on set." 
"I can date you, or be your makeup artist, but I will not allow myself to do both. I have a very strict moral compass as a working lady." 
"I'll choose the first option then by a long shot." You could hear Jacob's smile in the tone of his voice. You let him ramble a little longer about the day he'd had and how bad he felt that you'd been moved to quit. He asked you to meet him at the cafe across from the set during lunch tomorrow, and you promised you would in fact show up without a doubt this time. 
Fuck finding a new job tomorrow. You were going on an absolute dream date with Jacob. But you were most definitely ordering your own coffee.
371 notes · View notes
starryschoolgirl · 6 months
Text
Just A Man
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| A Soldier's Song Installment |
Summary -> As the weeks leading up to Elvis' deployment to Europe begin to dwindle you and Elvis try to help your son understand what it will mean. Meanwhile, inevitable tensions between you and Elvis are pushed to the side as the two of you figure sex is better than facing your issues, especially with such little time left together.
Warnings -> mention of family death, domestic fluff, flirting, mention of war, pre-deployment, Elvis being a young dad & husband, (much needed) sex with 50s Elvis, angsty undertones, smut, kitchen sex, swearing, foot kink, stocking kink, almost footjob(?), breeding kink, oral (f. receiving), unsafe sex
WC -> 5.8k
A/N -> So this is more of a prologue to the actual events of which this au series is based upon, to sort of give a glance into what life was like before Elvis gets deployed to Europe, I hope you enjoy it! In the next installment, we WILL see Elvis in uniform. This is an installation of the A Soldier's Song AU
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“That one made my hand hurt Frankie!”
The little boy giggled at his daddy’s shocked face.
That battering of a baseball against a leather mitt is all that kept you company on the back porch of your home. Watching the two boys, your two boys, in the yard tossing the ball back and forth puts a smile on your face, but as you turn your head to the empty chair next to you that smile falls ever so slightly, missing the warmth that often emanated from that chair.
Elvis had been at basic training when she passed and was only able to make it back in time for her funeral, but even then while you were a wreck he remained as strong as he could. He held you in one arm and held your little boy in the other as the service proceeded.
You’d only had two grief-filled days with him before he went back to finish his basic training, you couldn’t even figure out whether or not he’d really come to terms with his mama because it all happened so fast. And now you’d only have a few final weeks with your man, all crisp and in shape from basic training, till he was off to a poor war-stricken country in Europe.
With that in mind you remembered to smile, in the knick of time too as Elvis looked up at you after running to pick up the stray ball that had rolled along the grass toward the porch due to your little boy’s poor aim.
He stared up at you like the school boy he used to be, and said with that tone of voice you’d often heard since he first laid eyes on you, “Hey there Cutie”
And like the school girl you used to be, you’d blush and only offer a small smile as you waved him off, “Go play with your son”
Elvis gave you that look, he wanted to say something he couldn’t say in front of young ears. He got up, ball in one hand while he wore his leather brown mitt on the other, with each step up the wood porch his smile grew, you could feel his curled lips on your cheek as he leaned down to kiss it.
Then quietly he’d murmur in a cooing, baby-talk type tone, 
“Daddy wants to play with Mama though”
You rolled your eyes and put a placating hand on his clean-shaven cheek. After leaning forward to press a quick peck to his lips you spoke quietly with that same baby-talk curve to your voice,
“Daddy can play with Mama when Baby goes to bed”
Elvis smiled softly at you and mumbled out a soft and assured, “Alright”, before stepping away to go back down onto the grass, giving Francis, or as Elvis nicknamed him, Frankie, an underhanded toss of the ball.
You turned one last time to the other chair and the empty cushion on it, you couldn’t look at it anymore. Thankfully you were needed elsewhere as you could smell the roast in the oven drift through the window of the kitchen out onto the porch.
After going inside as you tended to the food you could watch Francis and Elvis play about in the yard, it was quite big, but the two of them only remained within a small portion, part of the reason could’ve been because Francis couldn’t yet throw very far.
The sun was setting and the light practically flickered off of Elvis’ hair. Now being in the army he didn’t bother with that black dye, it would just be washed out as soon as he was back at base after all. And it wasn’t like he’d be making movies or releasing songs anytime soon, no not with what he was on his way to do in a few weeks.
You could just barely hear Elvis’ voice as he praised your son, “Frank my boy you might be the Babe Ruth of your generation if ya keep at it”. You couldn’t help but shake your head with a smile, Elvis talking to Francis as if the four-year-old knew who the Babe was and as if he knew what the word “generation” meant.
It was in Elvis’ nature to talk to children in that way though. He always treated them like little adults. You couldn’t recall a time when Elvis didn’t speak to children that way. His mama had made fun of him for it when Francis was two and he could only remark, “Frank is just people, like you and me are just people”
Oh goodness, you thought of her again.
You don’t think a day goes by when you don’t think about her. Elvis’ mama was a godsend, truly. And while he’d never open up about it, you know it’s affecting Elvis immensely. She was so involved in your life ever since you entered Elvis’ and she was always sweet and welcoming.
You could think back to a time not too long ago when after you’d eloped with Elvis and announced the news of your pregnancy at the young age of 18, your parents kicked you to the curb, but she welcomed you with open arms.
At the time Elvis was still driving a truck he hadn’t yet become the “movie star” that he was now. But despite the financial struggles of her Presley flock, Gladys happily welcomed another bird.
It was just a few months ago, before the whole fiasco of Elvis getting drafted and sent off to basic that you’d had a conversation with her in this very kitchen about that.
You told her how appreciative you’d always be toward her for being so welcoming to you, and she told you with an arm around your shoulder, “I’m a mother Hon, it’s only natural. The two of you were babies when ya had that itty bitty boy of yours, I couldn’t ever leave y’all out in the rain, you know that”
You knew no matter what Elvis would have stuck beside you, you knew he’d always be there to hold your hand. After all, you were mothering his child. But it helped so much more that his mother would be on the other side of you, holding your other hand to help you in whatever way you would allow.
Things were slowly returning to normal within the home, her lack of presence isn’t as pronounced, but that’s because she lives through memory now as more time passes, it’s almost like she’s not gone.
You hope that’s how Elvis viewed it. His stone face didn’t leave any slack for a crack or two, and for once it was getting hard to read him. But you’d continue to hope that it isn’t a facade and that he is okay. Yeah, you’d hope with all your might that your man was doing okay.
-----
Dinner was quiet, whenever your voice, or Elvis’ voice, or Francis’ voice didn’t fill the air, love would keep you all company. Of course as always Elvis got on Francis about playing with his food, having grown up poor Elvis was more sensitive to matters of waste such as that.
But if that was the stress high-point of the evening, then you could call it a good evening.
And as you now sat on the edge of the bed, a hand on Francis’ blanket-covered knee while Elvis kneeled on the floor next to the short, small children’s bed, you had a soft smile play on your lips as Elvis talked on the subject of him leaving in a few weeks.
Elvis and you had been explaining night after night to Francis what would soon happen, why his daddy would be going away for a while and what would happen after. After talking about it quite a bit within the first month of knowing about Elvis’ draft you and he decided it was best to be very open on the subject to make it less daunting when Elvis suddenly left home.
And after Gladys’ death you had to explain to Francis that his daddy’s absence would be different from his grandmother’s absence.
“Ya g-gonna fight bad guys Daddy?”
Elvis smiled and brought his hands up in fists, then with a few shadow-box moves which made Francis laugh, Elvis assured,
“You betcha, gonna give the bad guys one of these! And one of these!”
The little boy laughed, his laugh too big for his body as he bent over on the bed and held onto your arm with both his little hands.
After his precious giggles subsided, Francis sat up and asked curiously, a glimmer of what must’ve been a child’s worry in his eyes as he asked with that stutter that his daddy used to have,
“W-what if the bad, bad guys hurt yo-you Dad-Daddy?”
Your smile fell slightly as you and Elvis made eye contact at the suggestion. Of course that is something that you and Elvis had been careful approaching when it came to explaining this sort of thing to Francis.
You couldn’t explain it without truly worrying the boy, you felt tears prickle your eyes at just the thought. Elvis knew of your worries, he knew that quite a few of the girls you were friends with down at the beauty parlor had husband’s overseas, and that a few of them had gotten the dreaded telegram, along with a folded American flag.
He knew all too well your worries as he’d spent many nights being the one to soothe you back to bed. When he’d feign sleep even though he knew you’d spend mornings staring at him, just wanting to look at him as if you would soon lose this view.
Of course if he had died at war it might be different. Having been in a few films and sung a few hit records, he feared that if he died you might find out about his death through the newspapers. You would either find out through that, or as Elvis heard, on rare special occasions they’d send something much more personal, they’d send chaplains and military officers to tell the grieving widow in person. 
Elvis hoped if he died he’d be that special occasion, that way you wouldn’t be alone when you heard about his death, the same way you were alone when you saw his mother in her state of death.
“Well,”
He started before getting up, and sitting next to you on the bed. He wrapped an arm around your waist and reached a hand out to rest atop yours which rested on Francis’ knee.
“Listen buddy, that sort of thing might happen, but ya don’t gotta worry. Your daddy’s strong, and he’s gonna get home to you and Mama. He promises.”
Your lip quivered as you tried to smile. Elvis could feel the way your hand tensed under his, he quickly pressed a kiss to your cheek and mumbled quietly for his little family to hear,
“And ya know I’m not a liar, I wouldn’t piss on ya leg and tell ya it’s rainin’ now would I?”
You abruptly turned your head toward Elvis’ crude analogy and hit his shoulder lightly making him laugh as Francis giggled at his daddy using a “nasty” word. 
As Elvis laughed he stood up and pulled you with him, leaving enough time for you to kiss Francis goodnight before taking you with just a tug of his arm around your hip.
As you reached for the lamp next to your son’s bed your spoke softly,
“Get a good sleep Frannie”
Once you and Elvis were making your way out of the room he teased you softly with his hand still resting at your hip, “Wish ya would stop callin’ him such a girly name, his name’s Francis”
As soon as you closed the door you laughed softly and pointed out, “So he’s Francis when I call him Frannie but he’s not Francis when you call him Frankie?”
Elvis shrugged and popped out a “yup” as he guided you down the hall. Just before reaching the bedroom you told him you remembered you still had some dishes to do and made a B-line to the staircase to head toward the kitchen.
After getting down there and getting the dishes loaded you found yourself standing in front of the sink, staring down at the soapy dishwater with not a thought in mind.
It was Elvis’ voice that pulled you from your trance as he spoke, “Baby?”
You jumped slightly and turned around to see Elvis throwing you a confused half-smile, his red shirt from earlier was off and he was left in just black trousers and his wedding ring. There was a dampened towel on his shoulders, the tips of his hair were slightly wet, likely from having just washed his face.
You sighed softly with a smile at the sight, “I’ll be up in a minute Handsome, just getting some things done”.
Elvis’ neck stretched slightly as he saw the dishes were washed and now laid on the drying rack, he then turned toward the stove to see that the leftovers were put away. You didn’t have anything to do.
He took a few steps forward, till he could comfortably rest his hands at your hips.
“Looks to me like everythin’s been done, why don’tcha head upstairs with me?”
You took a moment to look around and realized he was right, quick on your feet you slid away from his hands and walked over to the oven and opened it, you gestured a hand toward the inside,
“I haven’t cleaned the oven out yet”
Elvis’ eyebrows furrowed as he shook head and mumbled with a hand on his hip,
“Honey, ya never clean the oven out till the 1st of the month, I mean unless things have changed that much since I’ve been at basic…”
You sighed softly. As you gently closed the oven door Elvis walked over to you with a small frown, his hands finding their place at your hips once again as he asked,
“What’s goin’ on Genevieve?”
You bit your lower lip softly, whenever Elvis called you by your name you knew he was serious, there was no wiggling your way out of it, especially now that he had you pressed back against a kitchen counter, his hands gripping your hips with resolution and a look in his eyes that told you he wasn’t letting you go without a fight.
With a shake of your head you looked away from Elvis, suddenly deeming the drying rack a few feet away to be a better view than your half-naked husband. Elvis’ head followed your gaze and suddenly it was him you were looking at again.
“I just, I wish you would stop doing that…”
Elvis looked confused as he ran a hand through his uncombed hair. He really looked different from a few months ago, his jaw was sharp and his cheeks sort of caved in, but not in the way a waif’s would. His hair was a crisp, fall-ish brown, and his body was cut in a way that felt a little foreign.
While he was naturally slim and tall, he was usually still soft and smooth around the edges. You’d realized his first night back from basic that his body was more sharp and angular, and you worried they weren’t feeding him properly. But as he’d been home a week or two now, his body remained sharp and cut, and now your worries were on your own lacking areas, you knew your food couldn’t replace his mama’s but you’d swear if his mama were here, he’d be back to his soft and squishy self.
“Stop doin’ what Hon?”
As your eyes lingered over his body more you’d completely forgotten what you’d first been talking about as you changed the subject by asking, “Are you still hungry?”
Elvis laughed softly and titled his head to the side, “What are ya talkin’ about?”
Your lower lip quivered in worry and concern, it seems all the dulled emotions you’d been feeling lately came together to overpower your own emotional maturity as your lip wobbled pathetically. As Elvis saw the sight his smile fell and his eyebrows furrowed in worry as he bent down slightly to look you head on. “Oh, Baby, now,” He cupped your cheeks with his hands to keep you from turning away from him. 
There was a soft incredulous laugh that left his lips, “Why are ya cryin?”
As Elvis pulled you close to him, you could feel his body shake with each laugh that left his lips, you knew what he was thinking, it was what he always thought (and sometimes said) whenever you started crying, it was-
“You women and your emotions…”
And just as you would everytime, you’d hit his chest with all your might (which would only evoke another laugh at your pitiful effort) and mumble into his chest wetly, “Stop laughing at me Elvis Aaron Presley.”
“Alright, alright, I won’t laugh anymore Mama, now what was it you wish I would stop doin?”
Your arms around his waist tightened slightly as you thought back to the original topic of discussion. Elvis gave you a moment as he rubbed his chin along the top of your head, ruffling your hair in doing so, but you didn’t care enough to mind.
“I just wish you would stop pretending you’re this indestructible force Elvis.”
You could hear the smile in his voice as he spoke,
“Well, I gotta make sure my son knows there ain’t a man better than his Daddy, ya know that Hon”
With a soft sigh you pulled back enough to look Elvis in the eye while your arms remained around his waist.
“I’m talking about with me, Elvis. You do that same thing with me that you do with Francis. You talk to me like I’m a child- Like, like I don’t know what you’re going into, like I haven’t been reading the papers”
Elvis’ smile flatlined as he listened to your words. You continued on.
“I’m your wife Elvis, I know that you’re not some indestructible being.”
As Elvis' eyes lingered away from yours, you placed a hand on his cheek to regain his attention as you could tell he was searching for ways to change the conversation.
“You’re just a man Elvis”
There’s his way out. Elvis bit his lower lip before breaking into a smile as he stared down at you. His hands that were wrapped around your waist fell down to each globe of your ass, giving you a soft squeeze through the fabric of your dress. The abruptness of the action caught your attention as your eyebrow lifted in suspicion and confusion at what he was doing.
Here you were pouring your heart out and he-
“Well, I can admit I am just a man, and a man’s got needs ya know?”
He had a boyish smile on his lips as he said the last part quietly, as if he were a child trying to tempt his mother into letting him get his favorite piece of candy. You knew how this would go, it would go as it always did. You and Elvis would avoid this topic and go on to avoid a few other topics, then in a few weeks or a month you and him would get into a huge argument of all the topics combined just to kiss and make up.
It’s happened often within your relationship, hell, you and him hadn’t fought the entirety of your pregnancy with Francis and on the day your water broke, all hell broke with it as you and Elvis got into a huge argument. You almost gave birth in the house because you refused to have him be the one to drive you to the hospital.
But that would be fine for now, especially when he smiled down at you the way he was now.
Your previous pure look of concern had washed away with a defeated smile as his hands continued to knead the flesh of your ass like dough and his smile only dug into his cheeks further, almost bringing back that full look of them.
With a fond tinge to it, you sighed out,
“You really are just a man”
He brought his nose down to nuzzle against your cheek before pressing his lips against the soft skin, murmuring, “Your man”
“Mhm, my man”
You began to giggle at the ticklish sensation of his lips dragging from your cheek down along the sensitive skin of your neck. You tried tucking your chin into your neck as you continued to let you squealed laughs.
Elvis let out a soft playful growl as he spoke into the skin,
“Flutterin’ around like a bird”
To stop your incessant wiggling Elvis tightened his arms around your waist, his nose changed locations from the crook of your neck to the dip of your collarbone till it landed in the deep neckline of your dress, snug between your breasts as he nuzzled himself into the skin, trying to get a whiff of you in your purest form. 
The smell of you at the end of the day, the light scent of your perfume that somehow lingered late in the day mixed with whatever sweat had tried to grace your body, it was a smell he couldn’t get enough of. 
 His lips began to press gentle little kisses at the inside of both your breasts as he tugged at the neckline a bit more, trying to give himself more ground to cover with his lips. You laughed softly and buried your hands in his brown locks as you pressed numerous kisses atop his head.
You could hear him mumble where his head was buried between your breasts,
“Mm kiss me Baby…”
You laughed softly and between pecks on his forehead said, “That’s what I’m doin’”
He finally came up, his eyes lidded slightly as he murmured, “I mean really kiss me”, before kissing you with the same lips he just worshiped the skin of your tits with.
You hummed into the kiss with delighted surprise at the hungry tenderness of it all as Elvis’ body backed you completely against the kitchen counter. He felt around blindly for the counter behind you as he refused to break the kiss and then with two gentle pats to the back of your thighs you jumped up just slightly for him to pick you up by the thighs and push you onto the counter.
Elvis’ hands quickly worked the fabric of your dress, tugging it up till it pooled around your waist and as he pulled away from the kiss to look down between the two of you he was left with the sight of your legs, almost completely bare except for your seamed stockings that ended at your thighs and were held up by the garters connected to your panties.
His hands glided along the thin fabric of your stockings along your calves and thighs, he loved how they felt. You couldn’t help your smile as he admired you. When he stepped back he could pull one of your legs up nice and high so that he could see the seams on the back of your stockings that ran up your legs, giving the illusion that you had much longer legs than you really did.
All his focus was on that leg that he had stretched above your head, pointed to the heavens as he stared with admiration. You, his own point of interest, had betrayed him as your other lonely leg that dangled from the counter stretched forward to dig lightly at the bulge beginning to form in Elvis’ black trousers. Elvis’ brows creased and his eyes closed as his mouth opened to let out a low, heavy breath.
“Oh, Mama…”
Elvis’ grip that held your foot high had loosened at the undoing of his usually calm and collective nature within the act. “Mhm?” You took the opportunity and brought your other foot down to join in on the pushes and presses of your feet into the growing bulge.
He only repeated with a breathy, more defeated voice,
“Oh… Mama…”
His head fell back slightly and his legs looked to be going a little slack, knees bending in the slightest as his hips pushed into the pressure of your feet.
It was only when you attempted to dig your foot’s heel into Elvis’ groin did he make a move, spreading your legs apart and pushing his way between them with an eagerness. His hands were quick as he unclipped your garters, followed by the rough yanking of your stockings off your legs. You were thankful you had stabilized yourself onto the counter with your hands otherwise he might’ve yanked you off it right along with your stockings.
You figured you’d help him as you lifted your ass up and began to shimmy your panties off, having to bite your lip to keep back from whining at the cold slap of the counter against your thighs and warmed heat. As Elvis turned to look at you, his mouth was left slightly agape, he could never get used to the image of his wife being all pliant and pretty for him.
The men he used to work with as a young truck driver told him to never get married to a girl he liked, because when women became wives they lost their appeal, they became prudent and too good for casual sex with their husband. Oh how wrong those men were.
“Spread ‘em f’me Hon”
You obeyed as you watched Elvis kneel down, he had enough height on him to where even kneeling down he could easily be face to face with your bare cunt as you sat on the edge of the counter.
From below he made eye contact with you again and murmured,
“Spread those as well Baby”
You let out a breath at his words, feeling a heat spread from your chest up your neck from the embarrassment of where he was referring, but you’d listen. Your hand hesitantly danced down your body before landing at your cunt, and with a soft, wet sound, your pointer and index finger spread the lips of your pussy apart, giving way for Elvis to see the white discharge that was just edging out of your entrance, you had practically sprung a leak down there.
“You’re so pretty Baby…”
He looked up at you to make sure you knew it before steadying himself by gripping the sides of your thighs before pressing his head further between your legs. His aquiline nose ran along your core before anything else, but his tongue and lips were quick to follow as he licked a stripe up the center.
You let out a soft breathy moan at the feeling and tilted your head back to stare at the ceiling, the blank ceiling, boring enough for you to be able to focus entirely on the sensations Elvis was filling your body with.
As his tongue poked and prodded at your entrance you let out a cacophony of back-to-back breaths. As he moved his lips lower, his tongue now scraping along that gap of skin between both your holes, his nose was enveloped entirely by your entrance, and you could feel it inside of you.
Then his fingers on one hand reached toward that little nub of nerves that rested atop your pussy like a pretty bow, and like an expert he could easily undo that bow with the twists and turns of his index and middle finger.
That is what made you squirm and squeak, hushing out a high-pitched,
“Elvis..!”
His answer was a hungry hum which only pushed you even further as the low baritone of his hum reverberated in your pussy. “E-Elvis..!”
Your hands burrowed greedily into his hair as you contradicted yourself, while you made it seem like you wanted him off you, you only pushed his nose further and further into your entrance, you might suffocate him at this point. It was as if his life was in the hands of whether or not he could make you come.
You attempted to drive your hips further into his mouth as he pulled you closer with that hand still gripping your thigh.
As his fingers strummed your clit like the strings to a guitar your breathing got uneven as you felt the incoming of those waves of pleasure that only your very own husband could pull from you.
He groaned loudly into your heat as your grip on his hair became painful to the man bearing it, but he’d continue on till he got you to your release.
“Oh fuck Elvis..! I’m, I’m…”
Your hands entangled in his hair began to drive his head completely home as you let out a guttural moan, the pleased pitch cutting off as you’d reached the peak of your pleasure.
Your entire body felt limp, not even having enough strength in your hands to continue holding onto his hair. Elvis’ head remained tucked away long enough for your dress to fall over onto his head and hide him away as he finally pulled away for air.
You watched with tired eyes as his hands came up to pull the fabric off his head, he had the biggest lazy smile gracing his lips as he looked up at you, and for a moment you had a hard time deciphering whether or not the dampness on his face came from his sweat or your own pleasure, you settled on it being a mix.
“I make ya feel good Honey? Played with Mama just right, hm?”
He slowly stood up and brought the fabric of the dress up with him.
“You always do Elvis,”
He hummed with a smile and brought the wrung up fabric to your mouth with one hand and tugged your chin down with the other, leaving room for him to set the fabric between your lips for you to bite down on.
“Good, now, you’re gonna help Daddy feel good too now right? Gonna sit still f’me right?”
You hummed, “Mhm”, feeling eager to please the man after the trip he just sent you on. Elvis smiled down at you as he watched you hold the fabric between your teeth.
The fumbling of Elvis’ hands undoing his trousers was momentary as he’d become a bit of an expert at undoing his pants in the years you two have been married. You watched with blown out eyes as his dick shot up against his pubes and stomach as it was freed from the confines of Elvis’ pants and underwear.
Your legs were already spread and ready, your hole was already warmed up and loosened, you were his for the taking. 
As Elvis took a step forward he tugged you just slightly closer to him before lining his uncut cock along your hole. Then he pushed in. His eyebrows creased from the pain of needing to be patient at this part, trying to find a good balance of needing to be watchful of your expression while wanting to watch as his foreskin begins to prematurely slide back before he’s even completely inside of your warm pussy.
“It’s goin’ in smooth Honey? N-no burn or anythin’ right Baby? I can keep goin’?”
You hummed out a quick, “Mhm”, with an eager nod of your head, and you could see the relief spread along his face at not needing to wait, because to be quite truthful he wasn’t sure he’d be able to.
Elvis kept a hand on his base as he guided the rest in and when he was fully in, his arms wrapped around your waist tightly, practically pulling you off the counter as he wanted to be as close to you as possible while he pressed kisses along your neck.
“Fuck Baby, feel so good,” He groaned softly as he pulled out slightly just to shove his way back in, eliciting a used squeak from you as he did so. “Think that I still haven’t broken ya in properly after bein’ at basic f’so long huh?”
You could only moan softly at his words as you kept the fabric of your dress clenched between your teeth. As he repeated a similar motion he mumbled into the skin of your neck,
“It’s alright Honey, we’ll make more room in there, make more room for a little one or two…”
You wiggled slightly only for his body to press impossibly closer as he spoke through gritted teeth, “Just need ya to sit” he pulled out just to harshly press back in, evoking a whimper from you, “still.”
Elvis’ thrusts became fuller and more drawn out with every second that passed and every moan that left your lips. He was a chatty lover, and while he liked to believe he was talking you through it all, it was really himself he was talking through the motions of sex. He had a strange anxiety when it came to sex that had only shown itself since his takeoff in the entertainment business.
“Gonna fill ya so full of me, gonna leave a piece of myself here to watch over ya Honey,”
Your noises continued to be muffled by the fabric that was becoming soaked in saliva from being kept in your mouth for so long.
The build-up of precum that had been filling your insides made for a wonderful lubricant, even better than your body’s natural one. Elvis’ hips continued to thrust roughly into you. As the speed doubled, even tripled, Elvis’ breaths and voice got raspy.
You were certain he’d bruised your cervix by now, but the desperate rasp of his voice left you as gooey as your insides were.
“Shit, this is it..!”
Elvis buried face into your neck and you felt the heat of his breath sprawl across your skin as he groaned throatily. The animalistic, rhythmic pace of his hips dying down to slow downward grinds. He slurred out as he came down from that peak of pleasure,
“So good… So fucking good…”
Finally as his body came to a rest you spit out the fabric and inhaled as much air as possible through your mouth.
As Elvis geared himself to pull out, your arms wrapped around his neck abruptly as you held him close, mumbling a soft, “Don’t.” as you did so.
Elvis’ body felt stiff for a moment as he asked with hushed concern,
“W-why? Did I hurt ya Hon? You know you’re supposed to tell-”
You stopped his sentence short with a quiet,
“No, you didn’t hurt me. Just, wanna be with you a little longer. You don’t mind do ya?”
Elvis let out a breath of relief to hear that. He’d never want to hurt you. So in that moment of silence he held you close and buried his face into the crook of your neck, letting his nose linger on that pulse point that he watched you apply perfume on every morning for the past 4 years.
And you carded your fingers through his hair, kissing the skin of his head as a form of apology for how rough you were with it earlier.
His voice was like honey, sweet and thick as he assured,
“Of course not. I wanna be with you all the time, otherwise I wouldn't have married ya”
You smiled and remarked into his hair,
"Smartass..."
To which he fondly mumbled,
"Cutie"
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This was more a passion piece, just because I really wanted to write something involving those pictures, seriously he's such a dad.
The masterlist will be posted and linked as soon as I get up from my nap! If you'd like to be added to the taglist for this au feel free to just comment or message me!!
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Taglist Lovelies: @suraemoon, @drtyelvisfantasy, @mydarlingelvis, @astral-eyed-cat, @lialocklear, @obsessedvibee, @sexystarfish, @everythingelvispresley, @thebardotreincarnate, @prettyprissyblvd
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youaintnothinbuta · 2 months
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“I’m telling you, honey, you ain’t gon’ like it.” — Elvis Presley x reader
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Summary: you push yourself too far out of your comfort zone and get upset at Elvis for it, but he’s very patient with you <3
Pairing: Elvis Presley or Austin!Elvis x reader
Word count: 865
Warnings: fluff!! Minor argument but very a patient Elvis <3
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“I’m telling you, honey, you ain’t gon’ like it.” Elvis stated through a small chuckle of disbelief as he shook his head.
“Oh, Elvis, of course I will.” you replied, smiling, though inwardly determined to prove yourself on the big rides. You wanted to impress him. Amusement parks were enjoyable, sure, but you were tired of being the one too scared for the fast and tall rides.
“You won’t.” He argued through his laugh, like he could see right through you.
Not earning a reply from you, he kept going, “I truly don’t mind going with the fellas, baby, you don’t need to do it for me.”
Unfazed, you pressed on, “I’m not doing it for you, Elvis, I’m doing it for me.” Grabbing his wrist, you pulled him towards the queue for the biggest rollercoaster, the Cyclone. Cliff, Billy, and your brother Bobby exchanged concerned glances, but joined the line with you.
“It’s not too late to back out,” Bobby teased, leaning over your shoulder, his voice a mixture of jest and genuine concern for you. Elvis held your hand as you stepped into your place in the cart, preparing yourself to face your fear. Once everyone was settled, the operator turned the ride on and slowly you started moving, going up a steep incline. It’s not so bad. As the rollercoaster climbed to its peak, your heart pounded in your chest, and as it plummeted down, screams erupted from your lips. But these weren’t screams of exhilaration; they were screams of terror. With each twist and turn, you felt sick to your stomach, regretting every moment that led you to this point. Elvis’ arm around you provided little comfort as you endured the ordeal.
Finally, the ride screeched to a halt, and you stumbled out, feeling shaky and nauseous. Moving out of the exit of the ride, that feeling of nausea was quickly replaced with one of anger.
“I can’t believe you let me do that! You knew I’d hate it!” You lightly punched his chest, upset. He fought back a laugh, feeling bad, he knew that thing had scared you to death.
Instead of arguing back, Elvis guided you away from the bustling crowds to the quiet solitude of the car park, letting you groan and whine as you needed to. The distant sounds of laughter and excitement echoed through the air. The soft glow of twinkling lights overhead cast a gentle illumination. With a sigh, you leaned against a nearby railing, the cool metal soothing against your skin as you closed your eyes, attempting to calm yourself. Elvis stood beside you, letting you have a moment to breathe, his hand rubbing soothing circles on your back as you sniffled.
After a moment of silence, he turned to you, his expression softened with concern. “Are you okay, sweetheart?” he asked, his voice gentle. With a shaky breath, you shook your head, unable to find the words.
Without hesitation, Elvis pulled you into a warm embrace, his arms wrapping around you protectively as you buried your face against his chest. You allowed yourself to lean on him, to find solace in his comforting presence. With a soft sigh, you pulled away from Elvis’s embrace, meeting his gaze with a mixture of gratitude and apology.
Your eyes glossy with unshed tears, you mumbled, “I’m sorry. It just gave me such a fright. I don’t ever want to do that again.”
Elvis’s expression softened even further, his eyes filled with compassion and understanding. “It’s okay, sweetheart,” he replied, his voice gentle. “I shouldn’t have let you. I know. Next time, listen to me though. I’m only here to care for you.”
You nodded, thankful.
“Do you want to go back to the others, or are you done for the night?” he asked, his voice gentle, his eyes searching yours for any sign of what you needed.
After a moment’s hesitation, you met Elvis’ gaze, your decision clear in your mind. “I think I’m done for the night, I wanna go home,” you admitted softly.
Elvis nodded understandingly, his hand reaching out to gently squeeze yours. “That’s okay, sweetheart,” he murmured, his voice filled with warmth and reassurance. “Let’s go for a drive and head home, just the two of us.”
He opened the passenger side door, you promptly plunked your bottom down. With a soft sigh, Elvis turned the key in the ignition, and the car roared to life, the engine rumbling beneath you as he pulled out of the parking lot and onto the open road.
After what felt like an eternity, Elvis pulled up in front of his house, the soft glow of porch lights welcoming you home. With a grateful smile, he turned off the engine and turned to you.
“Here we are,” he said softly, his voice filled with warmth. “Tired, baby?”
You nodded, as you stepped out of the car and followed Elvis up the path to the front door. As he unlocked the door and let you inside, a sense of relief washed over you, grateful for the familiar comfort of his home. You stepped inside, the warmth of the house enveloping you, you could have just fallen asleep right there.
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urlocalfeiner · 1 year
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can’t help falling in love | neteyam sully
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paring: neteyam sully x fem! omaticaya! reader
¡based of the song ‘can’t help falling in love’ by elvis presley!
masterlist!
wise men say, only fools rush in. neteyam was always told growing up to never rush the process of finding the right one to mate with- but he knew he had already found the one he wished to mate with when he met you, it all clicked for neteyam like a switch was flicked in his mind.
neteyam tried to push the feelings he had for you to the back of his mind, tried to store them away never to be seen. but he can't help falling in love with you, as he watched you lay on the green grass admiring the stars above the two of you, pointing to the constellations in the dark sky. "nete, are you paying attention?" you snapped him out of the trance he was in that you unknowingly put him in. "yeah," it came out as more of a question than an answer.
neteyam sully followed the rules, it was just who he was- he was an organised person who had his whole life planned out. but as he stared at you with the soft glow of the forest illuminating your soft features that he swore were crafted by eywa herself, he found himself questioning his purpose in life. he always thought it was to be a mighty warrior and lead the clan, but know he wasn't soo sure because as he wrapped his strong arms around your figure- putting his face into the crook of your neck, obcorbing your scent with you softly tracing the patterns on his back- he felt as if this was his purpose, you. shall he stay? would it be a sin, if he can't help falling in love with you? neteyam slowly moved his head out of the crook of your neck, coming face to face with you. "you're so beautiful." he breathed out, pushing a bit of loose hair that fell in front of your face back behind your ears gently. "so, so beautiful." he leaned down slowly, placing a soft kiss upon your lips that lit a fire in you, that was sure to burn you at any given moment- but you did not mind if you got burnt by the fire that neteyam lit.
neteyam was with his mother, helping her prepare the food for the clan celebration- but he was barely helping, his focus was completely on you who was playing with tuk some ways away from where he and his mother sat. neytiri glanced up at her eldest son, who had a knife in hand about to cut the meat- but wasn't even looking at it- she studied his face, his gaze was filled with love as he stared at you. her face softened as she realised that he had found the one, she always knew of what he felt for you but she never thought it would grow to be so real. "you are a lovesick man, my boy." she spoke, grabbing a fruit- neteyam tore his gaze from you at his mothers words, "i can not help it, mother." he said earning a small chuckle from neytiri, you and neteyam reminded her of herself and jake when they were younger
“neteyam, hurry!- we are going to miss it!” you yelled behind you rushing to the top of the hallelujah motions to catch the beauty sight of eclipse falling over pandora. neteyam chuckled, following right behind you- keeping an eye on you to make sure you didn’t hurt yourself. you reached the top of the floating mountain, pulling neteyam up by his hand quickly- dragging him along. you stopped suddenly, your eyes widening as a small smile crept on on your face at the beautiful radiant sky in front of you- breath swept away from you at the sight of the light slowly fading over pandora, disappearing slowly from the forest. “beautiful.” you breathed out, reaching out a hand to touch it- though you knew you would never be able to. neteyam glanced at the sky, while yes it was beautiful- but how could he ever focus on it when something far more beautiful was right beside him, you. “very.” he replied, admiring your blissful face. butterflies creeping up in his stomach as he stared at you. neteyam had never felt so entranced by another before he met you, and boy, was he glad he did- neteyam had become a lovesick fool, he had become what he never thought he ever would be. but how could he be a fool if he knew what he felt for you was pure and more real than any folks tail ever told.
as the light began to disappear and the stars began to shine in the sky you were still admiring it with the same light in your eyes. “my father came from that star,” he pointed up at the dark sky, towards a star that shone a bit brighter than the rest. you had heard of where jake sully had came from, your eye trying to follow where his finger pointed- not seeming to catch onto which one it was. he grabbed your hand gently that was by your side, bringing it up and pointed it to where he was- the touch igniting a million flames throughout yours and his body. “there,” he whispered into your ear, his body pressed up against your back. “it is so crazy to think we are not alone in the universe.” you thought out loud, neteyam humming in response as his hand guided yours back down- but his grasp on it never leaving- slowly wrapping his arm around your waist, hugging you from behind. his chin resting on your shoulder- slightly bending down a little to meet your healthy as he stood taller than you- and most na’vi too.
he guided you by your hand softly to the tree of voices, they say it is where prayers are heard and sometimes answered- he begged the great mother that his prayer would be heard and answered. the prayer to make you his and him yours. "nete, why are we here?" you whispered, admiring the gorgeous glow of the fallen vines of the tree- you turned to him slowly, meeting his gaze that was set on you and only you. he reached out his hands, grabbing yours softly intertwining it with his own. "y/n," your name left his lips like a prophecy, as if they were the only words he could ever speak. "take my hand, take my whole life too." your heartbeat began to fasten up at his words as he came closer to you, hands still entwined. "i wish to grow old with you, i want to spend all of eternity and all of what is after it with you. i want you to be the mother of my children, you have my whole heart y/n. you have turned me into a love sick fool, for i cannot help, falling in love with you." he placed a kiss on your snout lightly, "i wish for you to be my mate." he breathed out, your eyes locked with his. you had longed for him to speak those words ever since you met him, and now under the eye of eywa, upon all the ancestors that rested beneath the grove of trees, neteyam sully bore his heart out on his palms right in front of you for you to take and be yours until time itself ended. one of your hands left his, reaching up to cup his cheek- he leaned into your touch, putting his now free hand over your own that cupped his face gently. "i can't help falling in love with you, nete." neteyams pupils dilated at the confession leaving your lips, but it did not mere in comparison to what you were about to say. "i see you." he felt his knees go weak, neteyam swore he could've collapsed right then and there. "i see you, y/n." he brought the hand that was on his cheek down to his lips, placing a soft kiss on your palm. he reached behind his back, fingers grazing his queue that was protected with a thick braid- slowly bringing it in front of him, offering it to you. you didn't think twice about it, as he did your hand grabbed your braid bringing it next to his. the two of you slowly came down to the ground, knees resting on the soft ground. you met his eyes and softly nodded, bringing your queue that was swiftly swirling around as if it was being pulled to his own- then slowly tsaheylu, neteyams pupils dilated- he could feel every fiber in your being, your soul and heart. every emotion you were feeling, every short breath and he loved it. he loved it so much, nothing could have ever prepared him for this day where your souls became one- neteyam had been told of the feeling, but nothing matched to what he imagined it to be to what it actually was. his soul yearned for yours, it ached at night in the absence of your own- and now he could feel you, every inch of you- as you could him. he leaned in to you, kissing you passionately as you returned it. rubbing your noses against one another, breathing shortly at the euphoric feeling being shared between the two of you. his hand slid behind your lower back, pulling you closer to him. that night your two souls danced with one another, becoming one.
neteyam te suli tsyeyk'itan knew that no matter what he did or said nothing would be able to stop him falling for you, he could not help falling in love with you- and he was did not mind doing so one bit. he was born to be with one with you.
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bindeds · 3 months
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✦﹒ .𓈀 willy wonka x reader nsfw headcanons (+18) — thank you so much for the love on the last post, here’s another! as always, gif credits go to @thisgameissonintendo ! dialogue is at the very bottom, thank you!
mlist. requests. general wonka headcanons.
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he’s into a specific kind of bondage; he likes tying you up using ribbons, usually only on the wrists but would tie other parts of you if he’s pent up.
DEFINITELY talks you through it, especially if you’re the one who’s pent up
glances at you across his shop while he’s working, and it’s the type of glance where his head is hung low as he’s talking to customers but he’s looking up to give you a knowing look, something you knew all too well; you are definitely doing it in his office later.
one time, he had a small piece of chocolate hanging between his teeth as he was jotting something down on a clipboard. You asked him innocently about what he was doing, and he said he was testing his own samples. You said you wanted to test them out as well, and went ahead and bit the other end of the chocolate. He went ROUGH on you that day, but now every time either of you have a piece of chocolate hanging from your lips, the other takes it as a sign that they’re in the mood.
he’s very hands on and LOVES biting you everywhere—your neck, shoulders, thighs, breasts, nipples, you name it
that being said, he is also very much into hickeys, too. something about biting then sucking the sore spot to soothe you … it was almost like you’re his personal chocolate; not something he made but something made for him. By the end of it you’re always covered in bruises, but he makes sure to bite you only where the sun doesn’t shine UNLESS you’ve done something to make him jealous
speaking of jealous, he’s definitely not the jealous kind EXCEPT when it comes to other performers or, even worse, the other three chocolatiers. If they were still allowed in the chocolate business, willy always pulls you along by the hand if you ever so much as look at the other chocolate shops. Oh, and going over earns you ten more hickeys on your neck.
Despite not being the jealous kind, I’d still imagine after a long day, if he knows you spent it with other people he would definitely mention it in sighs as he presses his lips on your skin.
Other times, he prefers to worship your body. To treat it like porcelain, to lay you down on his bed as such. He’s indecisive when it comes to this; he loves seeing you unscathed but tasting your skin makes him feel like you’re truly his.
if you ever do it in public (which is going to be a very rare occurrence because unlike his chocolate, he does not like sharing you with the world) he would definitely put his signature overcoat on you to cover as much of you as possible, he could care less about him being spotted but you? that was the same as letting you down, selling you off when you both vowed to be loyal to each other with pinky promises.
would put on music using a record player if you both are at home. He hums to the tune absentmindedly up until he’s on you and loving you. He loves old romantic songs specifically, and some jazz never hurt anyone. though if you don’t like it, he’s more than happy to stick with elvis presley and paul anka, and some other artists too, of course.
LOVES an abundance of contact, skin on skin, physical intimacy—the works. Because of this, he doesn’t usually opt for taking you from behind but if you ask for it, he would bend down with you, covering your back like a blanket as he whispers sweet praises into your ear, or perhaps nipping at your jaw or neck. On missionary, he can barely keep his lips from your own, too.
forehead touches!!! He loves pressing his forehead to yours, something about it is just so intimate and so meaningful to him
keeps his dress shirt on but completely unbuttoned out of habit, but he just looks so good in his slightly oversized shirt so you don’t complain
he loves what you love, and has nothing against you grabbing his hair as he eats you out. But relating to my very first point, he definitely appreciates when you let him tie your hands back so he does all the work. He likes taking his time, similar to making chocolate, eating you out has its stages and he cannot afford to rush any of them even if you are pent up or impatient.
he doesn’t like talking about your relationship with noodle. Seeing as noodle is a smart girl, he’s always afraid that she might think about these things and he likes to preserve her innocence, especially with the things they have been through. He wants her to experience what’s left of her childhood to the fullest, so even the faintest mention of you and willy being in his office sends his hands over noodle’s ears.
loves when you ruffle your hair if both of you are in an intimate position such as missionary.
He likes seeing the aftermath of just how much you do to him later on, from the crumples in his clothes to the scratch marks on his back.
definitely is a service top, as someone who grew up knowing how to please and catch the audience’s eye, he’s just so used to living for the reaction, and you’re no exception. Every moan he draws out of you is a token he keeps in his coat pocket for the difficult times.
is into begging, specifically begging you for anything. He’ll beg to bite you, beg to enter you, and sometimes he uses this to let you know it’s completely fine if you ever change your mind, but he never whines. He always keeps his composure about it.
“Oh honey, you’ll let me mark you all over, won’t you?” He asks, brown eyes heavy with the twinkles of the quiet night. “You know I can’t stand to leave you hurting. It won’t hurt for very long, just a taste.”
“What’s that now, darling?” while he’s pumping you full of his fingers
“That’s it, deep breaths,” he would say breathlessly as he sinks into you. “You can take me, can’t you princess?”
“I know, baby, I know,” he coos as he’s picking up his pace after hearing that oh-so familiar whine you let out that told him you were close. “I’m coming too, angel.”
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