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floralcyanidee · 8 months

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ᴛʀɪᴘʟᴇ ᴛʀᴏᴜʙʟᴇ

Bruce Wayne x Reader x Jonathan Crane (NSFW)

When you notice Dr. Jonathan Crane watching you and your husband at a fundraising party, you get a little curious. When Dr. Crane angers you, he presses you to explore that anger. Will he regret it?

warnings: smut, nipple play, fingering, penetrative sex, unprotected sex (both vaginal and anal), oral sex, cock warming, anal sex, anal fingering, blowjobs, dirty talk, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, hair pulling, porn without much plot, masturbation, forced masturbation, threesome, male x male, male x female, male x male x female, cum swallowing, spitting, face sitting, face fucking, crying, sub/dom tones, dom!reader, sub!jonathan, kinda sub!bruce but not really, ya know, just pure filth

word count: 5254

author’s note: welcome to our one-way ticket to hell besties <3 I didn't proofread this because it just poured out of me and I was truly possessed by the writing demon today. I had an idea and literally ran with it. I don't think I've ever written something so filthy before lol please enjoy and give feedback!! READ THE WARNINGS this fic isn't for everyone tbh.

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MOODBOARD FOR THIS FIC

One thing about being married to the Bruce Wayne was he had a thing for throwing parties and fundraisers at your mansion. This meant you had to dress up quite a bit, and you had to look really good as you were Bruce’s wife, of course. He always ensured you had the newest and most gorgeous gowns to show off at the gatherings. You’d spend the whole day getting your hair, makeup, and nails done, only to be at the parties for a few hours. And that was usually because Bruce had other duties in the city, he got too distracted by what you were wearing and needed you right then, or he simply let his antisocial side creep up on him. Tonight at the fundraiser he’s throwing, he seems content and has been by your side most of the night. Nothing drastic was going on in the city that demanded his action. But something was bothering him, you could tell. He’s slightly off, and you catch him staring at someone in the crowd a few times. You’re never able to pick them out, though.

You and Bruce are by the champagne table, and you notice Bruce is gazing out into the crowd of partygoers again.

“Bruce?” you ask softly, putting a hand on his bicep, “You alright?”

Bruce blinks hard a few times before turning to you, “I’m fine, darling.”

“You sure? You seem distracted by something this evening,” you scan the room, but to no avail for whomever Bruce is focused on.

“I just thought I recognized someone,” Bruce says, sipping his drink.

“Hmm. Alright, then.”

“Have I told you that you look beautiful tonight?” Bruce smiles, letting a hand slide across the small of your back.

“Only about a thousand times,” you giggle, leaning into your husband.

You happen to look up, and that’s when you see him staring at the two of you. Dr. Jonathan Crane. He quickly averts his eyes away, but you have already caught him.

“Is it Dr. Crane that you recognize?” you ask Bruce, motioning to where he’s standing with some other rich psychologists.

“Yeah,” Bruce exhales, shrugging, “I thought he had left the city a while ago.”

“After the asylum got turned loose? I figured so, too. Oh well,” you say, looking up at Bruce, “If he’s here, then he’s donating, so maybe it’s not so bad.”

“You have a point,” Bruce raises his eyebrows, “I’m still keeping an eye on him, though.”

You knew of a few of the villains Bruce has come in contact with, including Jonathan. He had almost killed your best friend and sent the whole city insane. Who knows what would have happened to Gotham if it weren't for Bruce. But a part of you is curious about Jonathan- a deep, intellectual part of you. Why is he still here? Is he still a doctor? Your brain becomes dizzy with all the questions. If Jonathan is here acting casually on his own accord, you could, too. You tear away from Bruce without a word, drink in hand. Bruce calls after you, panic surging through him when he realizes where you’re headed.

“Dr. Crane,” you smile upon arriving in front of him and another psychologist, “Wonderful to see you here.”

“Ah, Mrs. Wayne. I wouldn’t miss a marvelous party for a good cause. Have you met Dr. Robin here?” Jonathan smiles back, not missing a single beat.

“I have not,” you look over to the tall woman in front of Jonathan, clad in a pantsuit. You reach out a hand for her to shake, “Y/N Wayne.”

“I know who you are, Mrs. Wayne,” Dr. Robin says politely, her Australian accent strong, “Your dress is quite lovely, I must say.”

“Thank you,” you reply with a smile, willing her to leave so you could speak with Jonathan alone.

“Well, I’ll be off. Seems you two have something to discuss,” Dr. Robin announces her departure, much to your relief.

“It was nice meeting you,” you say sweetly as she walks away.

“You as well, Mrs. Wayne.”

You turn to Jonathan, who clears his throat as he looks you up and down. You’re nearly the same height as him, if not slightly taller, in your heels.

“It’s really brave of you to be here, Dr. Crane,” you turn your head to the side, giving him a closed-lip smile.

“Please, call me Jonathan,” Jonathan responds, “And what would you mean by that?”

You take a step closer to him, leaning into his ear, “You know exactly what I’m talking about, Jonathan. Or should I say, Mr. Scarecrow.”

Jonathan doesn’t flinch. In fact, he grins at you as he exhales a laugh, “Those days are behind me, I’m afraid.”

“Uh-huh,” you cross your arms, “And why should I believe you?”

Jonathan glances behind you to look at Bruce, who is on edge and watching the entire conversation to ensure nothing is tried. A muscle in Jonathan’s jaw twitches, “You don’t have to. But if I were up to no good, why would I be in the presence of the Batman and his lover? Quite unintelligent, wouldn’t you think?”

“And why are you here, exactly?”

“Trying to get myself back into the Gotham scene,” Jonathan looks at you matter-of-factly, “I’ve missed a lot being gone, you know.”

“Oh, I do know. And maybe you should’ve stayed gone,” you try not to snarl at him.

“Now, now, Mrs. Wayne. That is no way to speak to a donor,” Jonathan says, his voice dripping like honey with malice.

“You better be glad there are people around or-”

“Or what?” Jonathan asks, raising his eyebrows, a smirk itching at his lips.

“I’d fucking break you right here.”

“Sounds like a fun time. However, I’m not sure your husband would appreciate that in many, many ways.”

You scoff, “Don’t be crass. I’m not flirting with you. If I were, you’d know it.”

“There’s a fine line between desire and hatred, my dear,” Jonathan whispers in your ear, causing goosebumps to arise on your skin, “It’s a fun line to walk.”

Annoyance swells in your chest. You desperately wanted him to shut his bratty mouth. You also wanted to enjoy the rest of the party, but now that Jonathan had you riled up in anger, you wanted nothing more than to slam him against the wall and-

“Everything okay over here?” Bruce approaches suddenly, taking you by surprise.

“Everything is fine, sweetheart,” you place your hand on Bruce’s chest as a warning, “Nothing to worry about.”

“Dr. Crane isn’t bothering you, is he?” Bruce’s nostrils flare.

“Not at all,” you defend the doctor, “In fact, I’m probably annoying him.”

Bruce laughs humorlessly, “Oh, is that so?”

You cock your head at him, “Did you need something, dear?”

“Just want to speak with you privately,” Bruce says.

You go to say something, but Bruce interrupts you, “Both of you.”

If Jonathan is just as confused as you are, he doesn’t show it.

“Lead the way, Mr. Wayne.”

Bruce walks briskly to one of the guest rooms down the hall from the ballroom, making sure no one is following or watching the three of you. He ushers you and Jonathan inside, following suit before closing the door behind him.

“You know,” Jonathan says, breaking the silence, “I never pegged Mrs. Wayne for the threatening type out of the two of you.”

You bite your tongue, and Bruce looks over at you.

“Say what you want to say. I brought the two of you in here so you could solve your conversation away from those nosy fuckers outside,” Bruce rolls his eyes, fixing his cuff links.

“We aren’t children, Bruce,” you scowl.

“Then act like it,” Bruce sasses back.

“I do not need two men on my bad side right now. Remember what happens when you’re on my bad side, Bruce?”

Bruce looks between you and Jonathan, a hint of nervousness in his eye, “Don’t bring him into this, darling.”

“No, no. I’m curious now,” Jonathan grins deviously, stepping closer to you, “What happens when someone is on your bad side, Mrs. Wayne?”

Now realizing how your words and threats may have sounded all night to Jonathan, you backpedal.

“Not what you think, Dr. Crane,” you cross your arms, taking a step back from the doctor.

“Oh really? So your antagonizing and threats don’t mean anything?”

“What do you think they mean?”

“As I said earlier, desire and hatred are very close to one another,” Jonathan says suavely, “And I honestly can’t tell which you feel toward me.”

You make a disgusted sound despite the growing need to pin this man down and give him what for. Not even sexually, but simply because you’re tired of him speaking. However, Jonathan wasn’t bad-looking by any means- and sometimes, you and Bruce liked to try new things. But you don’t think Bruce would want to fuck with a murderer and criminal, especially one he’s had close encounters within the city. Jonathan almost burned him alive once, so you aren’t sure about whatever he’s insinuating going very far with your husband.

“Hatred,” you spit, “It’s hatred. Plus,” you look over at Bruce, “I don’t think my lover would appreciate me having anything to do with you anyway.”

Jonathan snorts, his eyes flickering between you and your husband, “Are you so sure about that?”

You furrow your brow, laughing incredulously at him, “I’m certain.”

“I don’t know,” Bruce says suddenly, “I wouldn’t mind seeing the fucker squirm on your account, Y/N.”

You nearly gasped, suddenly very aware of the animosity you were aiming at Dr. Jonathan Crane, now becoming sexual in nature. Not that you meant for it to, but now that it was insinuated out loud by someone other than Jonathan, you pondered your true feelings. As you’ve said, Jonathan was a looker. If you weren’t married to Bruce and the man wasn’t psychotic, you wouldn’t mind taking him for a ride. But you are married, and he is psychotic.

Jonathan has his hands shoved in his pockets, a smirk on his face as he studies you, “You want this. Don’t deny it, Mrs. Wayne. I can tell by the look in your eyes.”

You purse your lips together, “What I want is for you to shut up and behave. All you do is act high and mighty when you’re nothing but a little rat.”

Bruce tries to hide his laugh by covering it with a cough, “I’ll let everyone know it’s time to leave. When I come back, you two better be taking care of things.”

You look at Bruce, who gives you a slight nod in approval to do as you wish before he steps out of the room. No one is in charge in the bedroom permanently between the two of you. The dominant role is shared or is back and forth, depending on the day. To your shock, Bruce gives you the complete reins in this situation. But Bruce knew how much you despised Dr. Crane for what he’s done, even if a part of you is desperately curious about him. Desperate enough to demean him sexually, even. You want to humiliate him. Make him cry and make him regret having even come here. You want him to think of you whenever he feels shame or embarrassment for the rest of his life.

“A little rat, huh?” Jonathan chuckles, undoing his cufflinks.

“Yes,” you blink, forcing him to walk backward to the bed as he struggles to remove his blazer.

You shove him roughly onto the bed, watching him bounce from the mattress with a look of disorientation. Jonathan eventually gets his blazer off, discarding it onto the floor. You can’t properly climb on the bed with your gown on, so you reach behind your back, undoing the clasps that hold the silver dress together. You kick off your glittery heels, letting the gown slip to the floor in a pile. Underneath your dress, you decided a black lingerie set would do nicely. You’re glad you picked well, considering such a doting man was now staring at you like you were a piece of meat and he was starving. You try to ignore the logical side of your brain telling you this man is dangerous and crazy. But the other side of your brain is telling you that his cock is definitely dangerous and crazy, too. And you wanted to find out for sure.

“Now,” you begin to crawl to where Jonathan wordlessly lays, watching you carefully, “Are you going to be good and keep your mouth shut, pretty boy?”

“No promises,” Jonathan flashes a toothy grin, and you angrily rip his button-up open, buttons flying everywhere across the room.

Jonathan’s mouth hangs open, “That was an expensive shirt.”

“Nothing you can’t replace,” you shrug, running your hands along Jonathan’s handsome chest before letting your nails graze his nipples.

Jonathan shudders at the feeling, and you remove your hands from him, sitting back on your heels, “Lay on the pillows.”

“Ma’am, yes ma’am,” Jonathan purrs, doing as told, surprisingly.

You hear the door open behind you, and you turn around quickly to see Bruce.

“Everyone is cleared out. Brought some fun stuff, too,” he places a box on the floor, kicking it to the end of the bed for you to grab it.

You lean down over the edge of the bed and retrieve the box, crawling on your knees to where Jonathan lies. You open the box and hum in satisfaction at Bruce’s choice of toys and trinkets. You fiddle with one toy, dragging your gaze to Jonathan with a wicked smile on your face. But before you reveal the toy, you snatch some rope out of the box.

“Now you have no choice but to be good, Dr. Crane,” you snicker, offering Bruce some of the rope to tie Jonathan’s left wrist to the bedpost with.

You tie Jonathan’s right wrist tight enough for him not to move too much but not enough to where blood flow is cut off. Jonathan tugs at the rope, looking at you and Bruce with a nervous yet exhilarating smile.

“I’m privileged to be living such a fantasy,” Jonathan sighs.

“You’ll be wishing you had never stepped foot in this house when she’s done with you,” Bruce smirks, unbuttoning his shirt cuffs and rolling his sleeves up.

“Ah,” Jonathan laughs.

Before he can comment any further, you shove a ball gag into his mouth, strapping it behind his head securely. A deep feeling of satisfaction to him finally being quiet fills you. But the joy of seeing such an evil man at your mercy is more intense.

“You better be glad I chose the ball gag instead of having Bruce have his way with that pretty mouth of yours, Crane,” you say, and Bruce shakes his head from where he stands beside the bed.

Drool begins seeping out of the sides of Jonathan’s mouth, and you can’t help but coo at the sight of his tightening pants and his reddening cheeks. You grab his face between your fingers, squishing his flesh. You hum in satisfaction before letting go of his face and focusing on his slacks. You all but tear his belt off his hips, hurrying to unbutton his pants before ripping them down his thighs. Bruce removes the pants the rest of the way as you climb onto Jonathan’s lap, your clothed core atop his throbbing, leaking bulge.

You kiss Jonathan’s jaw, leaving harsh bites along the column of his throat as you travel down, continuing your assault on the skin of his chest and torso. You reach the band of his underwear, which you tease with your hands, snapping the band against Jonathan’s skin. He tries his best to laugh from underneath the ball gag, spit sputtering from the gaps of his mouth. You slowly peel his underwear down his legs, watching as his hard cock slaps against his stomach. You let Bruce pull the underwear off completely, and he tosses it somewhere in the room to be found later. You lean down to lick the bead of precum off Jonathan's tip before pulling away completely, allowing Bruce the room to tie up the doctor’s ankles to the bottom bedposts. You stand at the foot of the bed, chuckling darkly as Jonathan struggles against the restraints.

“Not so powerful now, are you, Dr. Crane?” you laugh, knowing he didn’t like you calling him by his professional name, “You look so pathetic, lying there with your poor cock out for us to see. Bet you wish one of us would touch it for you, hmm?”

Jonathan stays silent, his eyes boring into yours as he yanks his arms, testing the rope’s strength. He realizes he truly can’t move or speak and that he’s entirely at you and Bruce’s mercy. Not the worst position to be in, Jonathan thinks.

“Which of us should do the honors?” you ask Bruce, a playful smile on your face.

It isn’t often Bruce gets to mess with the other man during your experimental sexual encounters. Still, you figure this is personal enough for him to want to be involved.

“You can take this one. I’ve got other plans,” Bruce says, smirking deviously.

“Oh really?” you grin, “I’m excited to see those.”

You climb back on the bed, moving toward Jonathan’s lap, where his weeping cock is getting redder by the second. Grabbing the base of it, you move it forward enough for it to meet your lips. You lap your tongue on Jonathan’s tip, smearing the precum around before licking a stripe up his entire length. You pull away, letting his cock slap painfully against his stomach again. You harshly grip Jonathan’s balls, causing him to cry out muffled. You massage them as you take his length into your mouth, bobbing your head as you continue to take him in entirely. You press your breasts into the bed, letting your ass be exposed for Bruce to take advantage of as you suck off Jonathan. Bruce wastes no time walking over to you, letting his hands run over your asscheeks before he pulls your pretty black underwear off. Bruce dips his head down to flatten his tongue against your wet slit, gathering your arousal as he swirls it around your cunt. You moan around Jonathan’s cock, causing him to twitch.

“God, I love this pussy,” Bruce pants against you, “Too bad you can’t get a taste, Crane.”

You peer your eyes up to Jonathan’s, his icy blue eyes now dark from his blown pupils. He’s glaring at Bruce, trying to regulate his breathing as his tip hits the back of your throat. Jonathan’s eyes roll into the back of his head as you fuck him with your mouth, letting his cock slam into your throat. Jonathan tries to thrust into your mouth, but you push his hips down against the mattress. You’re slobbering, and tears are streaming down your face as you take his length as much as you can, wanting him to get as close to cumming as possible. Bruce sucks your clit harshly, letting two fingers slip into your wet pussy. You groan, the vibrations sending Jonathan batty. You feel him getting close, and you blindly fumble around for the box of toys that still remains on the bed somewhere. You find it, pulling off Jonthan’s cock as it twitches uncontrollably. He growls as you find the toy you were looking for. You give Jonathan a few pumps, gripping his length as tight as you can, watching as the precum helplessly spills from him. Before Jonathan can react or cum, you slip a cock ring onto him, sliding it down to his base. He cries out from behind the ball gag, his chest heaving. You lay your head on his thigh, watching as his cock turns bright red. Bruce continues to eat you out, his teeth brushing against your clit occasionally, causing you to moan. Your breath hits Jonathan’s angry length, making him shiver. You look him in the eyes as Bruce adds a third finger, fucking into your g spot harshly as he bites at your bundle of nerves. You maintain eye contact with Jonathan as you cum, letting your nails dig into the soft flesh on his thighs.

“Lucky for me,” you trace Jonathan’s tip teasingly with your finger, catching your breath, “I get to cum as much as I want.”

Jonathan stares at you without making a sound, focusing on his breathing so he doesn’t explode into a fine mist from the overstimulation.

“Now it’s your turn since you’ve been a good boy,” you remove the ball gag from Jonathan’s mouth, licking up his spit from his lips before he can lick it off himself.

“Open your mouth,” you demand, and Jonathan does as told.

You gather his and your saliva in your mouth before spitting it onto his tongue.

“Now show me how good you are at eating pussy, Dr. Crane.”

You flip yourself around, hovering over Jonathan’s face as you slowly remove the cock ring. Bruce removes his button-up, laying down between Jonathan’s spread legs. Jonathan lets out a strangled cry at the feeling of Bruce’s hot mouth on his sensitive cock. You push your pulsing cunt onto Jonathan’s face, to which he happily starts lapping hungrily. You watch as Bruce hollows his cheeks around Jonathan, and the sight alone makes you even wetter than before.

“Fuck,” you mutter, Bruce’s eyes meeting yours.

You rock your hips against Jonathan’s tongue, urging him to continue. Jonathan wishes he could bury his fingers in your cunt, but he settles for his tongue instead. Twisting and pushing it inside you, he uses his nose to press against your clit, shaking his head. You grip Jonathan’s hair, cursing at the feeling of his tongue dragging in your walls and his nose flicking your bundle of nerves. You grasp your barely clothed breasts, letting your thumbs play with your nipples through the thin lace. Bruce moans around Jonathan while watching you, letting Jonathan fuck into his throat.

“Wanna cum, you piece of shit?” Bruce pulls off Jonathan, who gasps a ‘yes,’ “Be careful what you ask for,” Bruce chuckles.

You plan on milking the doctor for all he’s got all night. You want him spent and begging for mercy. Anything to make him miserable.

Bruce takes Jonathan back into his mouth, bobbing up and down quickly and stroking what he won’t take into his mouth. Bruce allows Jonathan to buck his hips into his face. Jonathan lets out a pitiful cry as he cums in your husband’s mouth, white-hot spurts of seed shooting down Bruce’s throat. You feel Jonathan roll your clit between his teeth before sucking it between his lips as he rides his high. You growl, letting your self-control go out the window. You chase your own high, letting Jonathan torture and tease your bundle of nerves with his tongue and teeth until you finally release in his mouth. Jonathan slurps and suckles every drop of your arousal from your cunt, licking until you pull off him.

“Lucky for you,” you pant, beginning to untie the rope bound to Jonathan’s wrists, “This next part requires your cooperation. Promise you’ll behave?”

“Yes, Mrs. Wayne,” Jonathan nods.

You let Bruce finish untying the doctor as you discard your bra. You instruct Jonathan to move to the side, allowing you to lie down in his place. You demand that Jonathan climb on top of you. he does as told, and Bruce roughly pushes Jonthan’s face into your chest. You laugh at Bruce’s typical roughness, especially when it makes Jonathan look flustered. His ass is now in the air, revealed to Bruce.

“Have you ever been fucked in the ass like a good boy?” you ask Jonathan, your fingers in his hair.

He doesn’t look at you or respond.

“I’m asking you a question, Jonathaaan,” you say threateningly, your fingers now gripping his hair harshly as you lift his head for him to look at you.

“No,” Jonathan says breathlessly.

“Well, that’s about to change,” you say, “Any regrets about being smart-mouthed to me yet, Dr. Crane?”

Jonathan glares at you, panting as Bruce spreads his ass apart, “Not yet.”

“Good,” you smile, letting his head drop abc to your chest, “Now obey me and show me how much you’re enjoying this.”

You move Jonathan’s face, maneuvering his mouth to your hardened and sensitive nipple. Bruce takes some lube from the box he brought, smearing it against his fingers before teasing Jonathan’s asshole with the tip of his index finger. Jonathan keens around you, his body beginning to shake as Bruce slowly pushes a finger inside him. Jonathan sucks harshly on your nipple, gasping as your husband wiggles his finger inside his tight ass. He laps at your bud, focusing on trying to please you and taking Bruce’s long finger simultaneously. A second finger is added, stretching Jonathan further. The doctor lets out a sharp groan at the delectable burn. He attacks your other breast, letting his finger circle around the one he was just attached to. Bruce prods a third finger into Jonathan, and he lurches forward from the feeling of fullness.

“If you think you’re full now, just wait for Bruce’s fat cock, baby boy,” you taunt.

Bruce twists and curls his fingers inside Jonathan, doing his best to prep him for his unforgiving length. When he pulls his hand away, Jonathan gasps from the sudden emptiness. Bruce spreads his ass apart again, his slacks and underwear now discarded as his hardened cock pressed against Joanthan’s gaping hole. Jonathan whimpers around your nipple, pausing momentarily as Bruce slides himself into Jonathan.

“Fuck,” Jonathan shudders.

“You can stop now. I need you elsewhere,” you pull Jonathan’s head off your breasts, sneaking your hand between the two of you to his newly hardened cock, stroking it in your hand in time for Bruce to bottom out.

Jonathan whines, collapsing on your torso as the air leaves him.

“Tapped out already?” you pout, sticking your bottom lip out at Jonathan when you lift his head by his hair again, “Too fucking bad.”

Bruce then pulls out of Jonathan almost all the way before slamming back into him, his tip brushing against Jonathan’s prostate. Jonathan screams as you guide his cock between your slick folds, his body overstimulated. You let Jonathan weakly push his length inside your soaking cunt, your walls enveloping him immediately. Bruce wraps an arm around Jonathan’s chest, anchoring himself to the doctor. His other hand grips Jonathan’s hip with intensity. The feeling of Bruce pounding into Jonathan’s tight little ass affects you directly as Jonathan pushes deeper inside you every time Bruce thrusts into him. Soon, a rhythm is established, and you’re nearly in tears from pleasure as you watch Jonathan become a withering, crying mess underneath Bruce.

“Doing so good taking Bruce’s huge cock,” you praise Jonathan, bucking your hips with his every time he involuntarily moves forward, “You could at least try a little harder to fuck me like you want to, though.”

Jonathan’s forehead is teeming with sweat as he struggles to actually thrust into you while Bruce fucks into his prostate. You give him the benefit of the doubt- the first time getting fucked in the ass is intense. So you rock and swivel your hips on Jonathan’s cock roughly, letting him reach up to grab your breasts for leverage. He pinches your nipples, twisting them hard, sending electricity to your cunt. You pulse around Jonathan’s length, causing him to grunt miserably. Bruce’s hips are slapping onto Jonathan’s asscheeks loudly, and Jonathan’s cock twitches pitifully inside you.

“Cum, sweet thing,” you coax Jonathan, whose hair has long since lost its gel hold and has begun flopping into his face, “Cum inside me.”

Jonathan starts fucking into you the best he can, tears streaming down his face as he cums, a hoarse scream leaving his throat. Bruce is still fucking him without mercy, and you let Jonathan’s soft cock remain inside you as he whimpers helplessly, his hands gripping your sides.

“That’s it,” you praise him gently, “Let Batman fuck you silly like you deserve.”

Jonathan peers up at you, giving you the dirtiest look he can muster as you cackle, Bruce grunting as he cums inside Jonthan’s ass and on his back.

“Christ,” Bruce sighs, pushing his hair from his face as he winces, pulling out of Jonathan’s quivering asshole.

Jonathan collapses on top of you in a mess of sweat, tears, and cum. You let him catch his breath before sliding out from under him.

“One last thing, sweetie,” you say, your tone sugary, “Sit up on the bed for us.”

Jonathan weakly pushes himself up, flipping onto his back and laying his head on the pillows.

“Touch yourself,” you demand, sitting on your knees at the end of the bed beside Bruce, “I want you to cum until you can’t cum anymore.”

Jonathan opens his mouth to protest, but you motion for him to shush, to which he tiredly gives in. You dip your hand to your slick clit, swiping at it as Jonathan strokes his sensitive cock for you. Bruce watches you and Jonathan touch yourselves, unable to really get himself up again. He instead sits behind you, playing with your tits and rubbing his large hands on your hot, sticky skin. Bruce relishes in watching Jonathan fall apart as he looks away in embarrassment.

“Keep your eyes on me, Crane,” Bruce’s voice booms, making Jonathan jump.

Jonathan gulps, reluctantly keeping eye contact with Bruce as he bucks into his hand, moaning hoarsely as he gets close. He can’t help but think about how he was between the two of you, getting fucked by you and Bruce at the same time. With that, cum shoots from his overused cock onto his stomach, and he cries out in embarrassment when you demand he get off again.

You stay like that, letting Bruce replace your hand as you spread your legs further open to allow him to fuck you with his fingers. You bounce on them, moaning quietly as Jonathan fights to keep his eyes open, his wrist flicking to the best of his ability. The night goes on, and Jonathan eventually taps out, sobbing almost uncontrollably as he runs out of cum. You and Bruce give him time alone before slowly moving him to the shower, where you help him wash off. You and your husband also washed yourselves off, assisting Jonathan out of the shower when you were all done. He’s wrapped in a towel, wincing as he walks back to the bed and curls up under the covers. You follow suit, wrapping your arms around Jonathan and soothing him as he finally falls asleep. Bruce holds you from behind, sighing contently.

“Too bad it takes doing this to humble a villain,” Bruce jokes.

“And the fact I could help was exciting,” you chuckle, “I never get to fight criminals like you do.”

“Maybe you should. You’ve got the mouth for it. Your sass is unmatched,” Bruce buries his nose in your hair.

“Mmm, I think I’m good,” you say, stroking Jonathan’s hair out of his face, “One villain is enough for me, I think.”

You and Bruce quietly watch the evil, despicable fucker sleep soundly.

“Can we keep him?” you ask Bruce, to which he tries not to burst out laughing.

“So you can torture him more? Absolutely.”

“Awesome.”

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2K notes · View notes

spideyhexx · 4 months

Note

sub!snowjanus x dom!reader where she finds them doing it together without permission and punishes them. maybe bratty!coryo idkk. ALSO I LOVE YOUR WRITING -(🍒 anon (IF ITS NOT TAKEN YET))

THAT IS ALL YOURS AND THANK YOU SM THIS IS GREAT

also ty to @goosita and @floralcyanide for talking through this concept with me and making me write this tonight instead of tomorrow <3 I popped off with this.

mdni

Coryo was well aware you told him and Sej to not fool around or even touch themselves this next week. You were busy and you wanted to have some excitement to look forward to at the end of a long and stressful week and this was the way you thought you'd get it; having a night or even a day of pleasure with your two lovers who have been built up all week. It sounded like a dream.

But Coryo is an evil little shit. You knew this. Sej knew it. Coryo knew it. But he's never attempted something as risky as this.

With only half the week gone by, he's losing his mind. He's gotten so used to your and Sej's touches that now he's spiraling without it. He doesn't even think to jack off, knowing it wouldn't feel the same.

Coryo has a different plan.

One night, he gets Sej to invite him over while you're still working. Sej is no fool. He can see it in Coryo's eyes. The way he lingers his hand on Sej's arm or how he kept bumping his knee against Sej's own as they sat in bed, talking.

While Sej usually had a lot more self-control, he has to admit to himself the week has been torturous for him too. Ever since Coryo joined your relationship, the need to satiate his desires has only heightened.

So it's no surprise that when Coryo leans in to kiss Sej, his hand moving from the boy's arm to his thigh, Sej gives in. Coryo is surprised at how quickly Sej leans into the touch, his kisses more urgent than he's ever felt them before. "She's gonna be so mad," Sej mumbles as Coryo's fingers make quick work of undoing Sej's pants.

"She's not here right now," Coryo says, in almost an irritated tone. His brow is furrowed and he smiles against Sej's lips when he wraps his hand around Sej's length, stroking it in slow, painful movements until Sej breaks, pushing Coryo down onto his back in bed.

"We have to be fast," Sej mutters, only pulling Coryo's own trousers down enough to get his cock out as he lays over the boy, pressing himself flush against him and grinding their dicks against one another.

Coryo's smirk etches deep into his face at the feeling, letting himself moan out, "fuck, finally," and Sej laughs, burying his head into Coryo's neck as he rocks his hips against Coryo.

This feeling, his blood rushing only to his dick as he gets harder, the ache burning deep within him as he feels Sej's sweaty body trembling above him, both of them so desperate after only a couple days without a release. The way Coryo was rolling his hips up against Sej to make the boy moan into his neck and the light little kisses that Sej would leave on his skin. This feeling makes it all worth it.

Even when the door opens and you're standing, your jaw about to drop at the sight.

Coryo sees you first, patting Sej's shoulder gently and he turns, going red in the face when he locks eyes with you. Coryo still has a smirk on his face and that is all you can focus on.

Without a word, you put your bag down, your coat following, and then your shoes. You take your time, knowing both of them have sat up and Sej is the first one to speak, "I'm sorry, doll, w-we were so worked up and I...we missed being able to-"

"I know baby," you coo at Sej, moving near him and cupping his face in your hands, giving his forehead a light kiss, mumbling against it, "but you still broke my rules." You feel him try to nod in your hold and his eyes shine big at you. "I'm s-sorry," he says in a hushed whisper and your eyes dart to Coryo who's sat back against the pillows.

"Sej, baby, can you go get the ties from my closet?" His eyes trail up and down your face before nodding and you let go of him, beckoning Coryo to come closer. He obeys, to your surprise and you give him a soft smile.

It almost makes him lose his demeanor because he knows by now you're not thinking of anything soft. "I take it you started this?"

He nods, not afraid to admit this to you, "What was I supposed to do? We wanted to fuck around, so we did. Your rule was pointless."

You raise a brow, a little surprised by his confidence, something you so rarely see from him in bed. "Honey, if you want to be that way-"

"What way?" His head is held high as if he's challenging you, wanting to see exactly how far you'd go.

Your smile drops a little and you lean closer to him, kissing the corner of his lips, "If you want to be a brat, I'll treat you like one. You haven't learned this yet, but I don't take these things lightly, honey." You kiss the corner of his lips again before backing away and nodding over to your desk chair.

"Go sit down there." Coryo takes a moment to listen, his eyes a little wide at your words and you can practically see the gears turning in his head, his shoulders slumping into submission, but he holds his head high again, getting up from the bed.

"Oh, and take all your clothes off?" You smile sweetly at him, it almost sickens him.

You help Sej undress after he brings the ties out for you and you lean to whisper in his ear, "Can you tie Coryo's hands tight behind his back for me? Behind the chair,." Sej follows your instructions and while Coryo scoffs, he lets him do it.

"Are you fucking kidding me?" You ignore him, sitting on the edge of your bed and undressing yourself.

Full-heartedly, Coryo thinks you're gonna be down on your knees for him any minute now. Almost every time he's in your desk chair, you're sitting between his legs on the floor with his cock down your throat, so his mind naturally wanders to that being your course of action.

Sej on the other hand has been at the mercy of your punishments before and he has a faint idea of what you plan to do to the blonde boy now tied to your chair.

"Sej, come here," you say, your voice soft and it's throwing Coryo for a loop. "You know he broke your rules too?"

"I know, honey, but I also know that you're the reason he gave in. So just sit there and look pretty, okay?" You give him another one of your sweet smiles and Coryo takes a deep breath, already starting to squirm against his restraints. You tug Sej onto the bed with you, pushing his head down before he can kiss your lips.

"No, baby. You gotta earn that back." Sej nods obediently, trailing kisses down your chest to your tummy. You lay back where Coryo once was, Sej parting your legs and looking up at you, "will this let me earn it back?"

"Mmm, yes. Good boy." He lets out a shuddered breath and kisses your inner thigh. Once. Then twice, nipping at the skin and urging your thighs to spread more. Sej repeats the same kisses to your other thigh, biting a little more against the skin and you tangle your fingers into his curls, pushing his head closer to your core.

"Enough of that," you grunt, Sej's hands rubbing from your knees up to your thighs and gripping them tightly as he presses his nose to your clit, as if he's savoring, taking in your scent. You let him hold your thighs apart, the feeling of his warm hands against your skin was too alluring, too perfect.

You told yourself you wouldn't even spare a glance at Coryo, but you do. His gaze is laser-focused on the two of you and you smirk as you see his hardened cock resting up against his tummy, his teeth seemingly biting into the skin of his inner cheek.

"Do you..." you trail off in a moan as Sej's tongue plunges into you, licking into you like you're his last meal. "Do you have something to say, Coryo?"

"I-I want to touch you," he says and you chuckle, tilting your head back with a groan as Sej presses his nose to your clit harder, your hips bucking up to grind into his face. "I don't care what you want, honey," you breathe out through little gasps, Sej's tongue fucking into you with a skill that he's only improved on every single time.

You hear Coryo hold back a whine, your cute little nickname for him sounding so filthy on your tongue as his own head tips backward in frustration. He tries to see if he can get out of the ties, but he can't. No tug or pull or twist even lets up the tightness a little bit.

"Sej, baby, you're doing so good for me, f-fuck." Sej moans against you and as his eyes meet yours, you feel yourself come undone on his tongue, his hands holding your hips down so he can lap up all of your release without you squirming too much.

When Sej moves his mouth away from you, you're tugging him up and kissing him. Your legs instinctively wrap around his waist, pulling his body flush against yours, cock resting, aching against you.

Coryo audibly groans, his hips squirming at the sight and he wants to lash out at you so bad. He feels it on the tip of his tongue, something mean, something so angry that he isn't even sure what you or Sej would do, but he can't say it. All he can do is watch, mouth parted as you guide Sej's dick into you, coaxing the man on top of you to bury his head into your neck, just like Coryo had done earlier.

"That's it, baby," you purr into Sej's ear as his hips slowly begin to roll into yours, the thickness of his cock inside of you starting to turn your brain into pure mush, but you regain your focus, massaging the back of his head as he groans into your neck.

"You're doing so well for me, so perfect, you just needed my cunt didn't you?" Sej whines, nodding and you feel his teeth sink into your shoulder.

"P-please," Coryo gasps out. You hear him, but don't reply, kissing the spot beneath Sej's ear and pushing his hips into you deeper with your legs.

Sej is losing his goddamn mind just as much as Coryo is, despite him being the one that gets to feel you, warm, wet, and snug against him. He wants to move faster, but his hips move easily, languidly as if he's trying to get to know every part of you all over again. He also knows you're loving leaving Coryo ignored. He can tell by the way your lips quirk against him when Coryo lets out yet another whine.

His whines feel purposeful like he's trying to make them sound as sad and needy as he can, but there is a shift that tells Sej they're becoming real. Sej longs to see how Coryo looks all tied up right now, but he forgets about that when you bite on his ear, "I know you wanna fuck me harder, baby. You earned it."

He lets out a shaky breath, keeping his head down, too afraid if he looked at your face, he'd bust on the spot. He ruts into you with more force, starting to set a frantic pace that he doesn't let up.

His pent-up desires unfold completely as he fucks into you, your legs holding him so tight, so deep.

"B-baby, please," Coryo begs a little louder, his own hips bucking up into absolutely nothing. He rarely called you that, so you spare him a look.

His cock, drippy and the tip so red makes you want to give in, but you can't. He has to learn. "Coryo, h-honey, please what?" It's hard to talk to him as Sej pounds into you, but you make do, making sure to tug at Sej's curls when he starts hitting the right spot.

"I n-need to cum so bad, please," he whimpers, his hips still moving on their own accord. That's when you see the shine of a few tears on his cheek. "Are you crying?"

He whimpers again and nods his head, closing his eyes. You laugh. A full-on laugh and Sej smiles into your neck. "Oh, my poor, honey. You can't cum."

Coryo starts to plead with you, "N-No no...I need to cum, baby, please...I need it so bad, you don't understand..."

But you shush him, "Be quiet, Sej's gonna make me cum."

You feel Sej groan, as his pace begins to falter and you feel his arms push under you, holding you so close to his body as he spills himself inside of you. You squeeze around him as your own release washes over you, your moans higher than before and you pull on his hair. Sej keeps thrusting into you as you both ride out your orgasms he leaves wet open-mouthed kisses from your shoulder, up your neck to your cheek.

He gives you a lazy smile when your eyes meet and you return it, ruffling his hair. You're lost in a daze with your lover until you hear a choked-out sob from the other end of the room.

Sej pulls away from you, his cock slipping out of you and you're met with the sight of Coryo.

His chest is heaving, his forehead sweaty and his cheeks wet as his eyes glow bluer from the tears still pricking at them.

His tummy is coated in his release, some of it still dripping down his cock and onto his balls. His dick is hardening again as soon as you make eye contact with him, crawling to the edge of the bed and standing up and Sej's release starts to drip down your thigh.

Coryo sniffs, looking up at you as you stand in front of him, "please," he whispers, his lip quivering. You run your hand through his sweaty curls and he moans at the touch alone. "I told you that you couldn't cum, honey."

"I-I know, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, I couldn't stop it, I tried so h-hard. Please, believe me, I tried so hard," he rushes out his words, as a tear falls from his eye.

You look down at the cum pooling on his tummy and your chair, then look back into his eyes, "you look so pathetic, honey."

Coryo's jaw clenches and he holds in whatever noise he is about to make. "Actually, you don't look pathetic, you are pathetic." His cock throbs against him at your words and Sej chuckles from his spot on the bed.

Coryo sends him a glare and you quickly kneel onto the chair, your knees on either side of his thighs and you hold yourself above his lap.

"Don't look at my baby that way, he took his punishment." This time Coryo does let himself scoff and roll his eyes, "What punishment? Not being able to k-kiss you? How is this fair?"

His tone comes off harsh but the way he sniffles after it and the way another tear falls from his eyes has you smirking. "You needed to learn, honey. And I'm not done with you." His eyes close at that, his brow creasing, trying to think of what else you could possibly do to him.

You ghost your fingers on his cock before holding it and Coryo's hips buck up. You let him, his tip, leaking already, just shy of prodding at your entrance. "If you want to fuck me, you gotta do it yourself," you taunt, biting on your bottom lip as you lower down just a little so he can easily fuck up into you.

He stares wide-eyed and sees Sej shaking his head in amusement. You cock your head to the side, "well? Are you gonna do it, honey? It's what you wanted, right?"

Coryo whimpers, still sniffly, and nods, pushing his hips up, his cock sliding into you with ease. He's so loud, letting out strained whines and sobs, his cock so fucking sensitive and needing to release again.

He applauds your own self-control as you stay still for him, moaning when he's able fuck up deep into you. But Coryo didn't take into consideration how tiring this would be. With his hands still tied, his leg and hip muscles began to strain, already exhausted from his first orgasm. "My pretty boy, maybe if you hadn't finished before, I'd help you," you coo at him, your hands so close to touching him, but you keep them on the chair.

You don't give in at all and Coryo lets out a frustrated groan, his bottom lip between his teeth as he desperately tries to thrust his dick up into you but he can't find a decent rhythm.

"y-you're so fucking mean," he sobs, and you almost take pity on the way he's starting to cry more.

You ignore his words though, watching him with admiration as he tries to fuck you. Even though the stimulation is weak, you do eventually feel his cock twitch, and his tummy tightens, but before he can even release you lift your hips up.

"f-fuck! B-baby?" His cries were tempting still, but you were determined. You kiss his cheek, the salty taste of his tears on your lips, then move your mouth to his ear.

"If I find out you've made yourself cum over the next four days, I will do this again, maybe even meaner. I won't even let you be in the same room as me and Sej when he fucks me better than you probably can. And you and your pathetic cock can be alone and untouched for even longer. Do you understand me, honey?" You tangle your fingers in his hair and turn his head to look at you.

His eyes are glazed over, lips parted and he nods, "y-yes." You could almost feel Sej's proud look at how well you've taken control.

"good boy," you whisper and give him a gentle kiss on the lips, realizing just how much you missed kissing Coryo.

let's chat about coryo, sej, or both, here :)

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maysileeewrites · 4 months

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DON’T WANT YOU LIKE A BEST FRIEND || MASTERLIST

best friend!Coriolanus x capitol!reader

concept post || my Coriolanus Snow masterlist

Summary:

You and Coryo have been best friends ever since you can remember. You’ve been through everything together and you’ve always been there for each other.

You’ve always thought of him as the protective older brother you’ve never had, but lately, your feelings towards him have changed - not quite so pure and innocent anymore.

First, you think that it’s only you, but then Coryo starts behaving differently towards you as well, lingering touches, teasing comments and burning stares that only add to your confusion.

As the lines of friendship become more and more blurred, you feel yourself starting to fall more and more for your best friend - the one thing you’d never wanted to do, because you know that, ultimately, it will just end in heartbreak for you … right?

I’m so excited to get started on this mini series!! thank you guys so much for all the love you’ve shown my little concept post I made yesterday!!

so far I’m planning on 4 parts (yes, there will be smut later on, but first we need some build up and some delicious tension), but who knows how many more ideas I’ll get while writing ;)

also: yes, I’ve been listening to Dress and So It Goes … on repeat whilst working on the concept for this story, hence the chapter titles lol

Part I: don’t want you like a best friend || find a teaser and another one here :) 🦋🪷💫 (17+, no super intense smut - yet)

Part II: gold cage, hostage to my feelings (coming soon!!; find a teaser here!) 🦋🪷

Part III: only bought this dress so you could take it off 🦋💫

Part IV: so it goes … 💫

🦋 fluff

🪷 angst

💫 smut

the tag for this will be don’t want you like a best friend 🦋!

series taglist:

@asapkyndall @slitsphilia @ravenclawprincess33 @mckennah123 @serving-targaryen-realness @mentallyyy-unstable @mizuki80 @snows-wife @prettyinsatiable @ashcosmo @generally-awqward @snowflxke @nallasstuff @ajs-222 @spiritofbuddha @notyourwildestdream @earthangel-111 @bhdem @toogardenheart @iheartinkonpaper @daisiesformylove @ebsmind @dominqueeekk @cherrybomb8484 @dangelnleif @minmin1328 @xhyaryx @nycweb-slinger @acatwriteshere @lookclosernow @allcheesemelts @bxtchopolis @hopefulcupcakerebel @squidscottjeans @evan-peters-wife @just-a-littlebit-of-everything @ghsface @spear-bearing-bi-witch @loxbbg @floralcyanide @ilikefictionalmen @smxipixie @devils-blackrose @lcvecstiel @leigh-kay @r02eg0ld @gottoomanycelebritycrushes @nomorespahgetti @wpdarlingpan @sabrinasbd @alwaysvettel1 @flu0re @alpha-mommy69 @iwantosleep @hikarikram @scarletttargaryen @angelicblondie @ultrav10l3nce @kuroosbby001 @coriosgf @tristanswildcat @insomniac1345 @reapers-lover @wearemadeofstardust0 @i-understand-vangogh @loiita-xo

comment or dm me if you want to be on the taglist for this! :)

tumblr won’t let me tag some of you guys, please check your settings (settings —> general —> mentions —> anyone) whether anyone can tag you in posts! :)

#coriolanus x you #coriolanus snow #coriolanus snow x you #coriolanus smut #coriolanus x reader #coriolanus fanfiction #coriolanus imagine #coriolanus x y/n #coriolanus snow x reader #coriolanus snow x y/n #coriolanus snow smut #best friends to lovers #best friend Coryo #thg #tbosas #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #maysileewrites #don’t want you like a best friend 🦋

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darby-rowe · 3 months

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hey!!! i really like your fics and i think you write them very well!! can i ask if you have an inspiration or favorite writers here on tumblr???

why tysm anon! 🫶

i get a lot of my inspiration from other posts on here of course. but i also draw a lot of inspo from songs i like, books i’ve read, tv shows, and other types of media consumption!

as for my favorite writers, well, thats basically everyone on my following list LOL. but to list a few:

@snowsinterlude

@goosita

@shellxrls

@spideyhexx

@swiftiekisses

@lucilleslore

@etfrin

@st0nesnglitter

@kisses4kaia

@floralcyanide

and of course this list will only expand as time goes on :)

#i like how i said i was only gonna list a few and then proceed to tag nearly my entire following list lol #darbyrowe.ask

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mrsniallhoran505 · 5 months

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Good Morning Austin Girls!

Theme 400!!!

Austin Butler!

From nick

To Disney

To CW

To MTV

To the big screen

To what's to come

You have made your fans laugh, cry, blush, scream, thirst, rage, and question their sanity. We have found you at different points in your laugh and have chosen to stand by you and support you. You've gone from a background actor on Ned's Declassified, to owning the screen with Elvis. I have watched you grow as an actor and as a human and I am proud to say I am a fan of Austin Robert Butler.

Here's to the coming years! Here's to what's next! Here's to you Austin!

Here's to the content creators that have made these posts possible!

@austinbutlermischief

@austinbutlermedia

@butlers-bitch

@austinelvisbutler

@austin-sbutler

Thank you for the content you create and share. I can't even imagine the time and effort that goes into it. So thank you and here's to you for your hard work and contributions! (I know there's so many more but these are the reoccurring ones that I see)

To the fic writers (wish I could tag you all)

@floralcyanide

Masterlist

@lindszeppelin

Masterlist

@foreverdolly

Masterlist

@blainesebastian

Masterlist

@ab4eva

Masterlist

Now to the fan accounts on Instagram (these are just a few that I follow)

@/austinbutler_tr

@/austinbutler_4ever

@/austin.addicts

@/austinbutlerirish

And my number one source of all things Austin!

On Twitter

@/AButlerNews

GMAG! Tag List:

Sometimes tags work sometimes they don’t!

@ilovemycrayons @blurredcolour @dre6ming @slowsweetlove @pennyroyalcreep @austiebuttbutt @lisathewife101 @jojam10 @xxindiglow @crackerbarrelslut @katsukis1wife @macey234 @lucid315 @katelswan @introvertisms @purejasmine @bcofl0ve @feral-fae-writes @eliseinmemphis @klizzie93 @scarlet-sunsets @austinbutlermischief @emmamartinez @dazzledbycarrie @sunset-striptease-redeux @chasingwildflowers @justafangir1 @kctj82 @alikaheroes @saturnsatnin

#austin butler #austin butler x reader #austin butler x you #good morning austin girls #Spotify

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red-write-hand · 4 months

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alright so. i have decided that i am going to (this writer really means all he can really write right now with his massive writers block) write a bunch of really long headcanons for random characters that i find REMOTELY hot.

so for instance it would be two paragraphs on why tommy (peaky blinders) likes hands or three paragraphs on why billy (billy the kid) is totally the type to "accidentally" leave his clothes out so you can wear them or two-ish paragrahs about how anakin (star wars) snacks off whatever food is around him or literally whatever pedro pascal character or cillian murphy character

be prepared and if you want any certain character (can be smut, fluff, or even platonic, im open to anything really!), send me an ask! ive got yall!

@birminghamshelbyboys @pinguwrites @forgottenpeakywriter @atsv-enthusiast @hanawrites404 @runnning-outof-time @no-fooking-fighting @no-1peakyfan @hllywdwhre @floralcyanide @cilldistilled @stridingseer @darlingsfandom @mrkdvidal1989 @lunavelha @aphroditeslover11 @henrywintersdearestgirl @thatwitchybitch420 @classicsandfantasy @marilynmonroefanfics @ninja-potato-shelby-solomons @scorpinelle @chellyrps @maxwell-demon @atrwriting

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no-fooking-fighting · 4 months

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Happy New Year to all of my mutuals on tumblr !

I'm so glad I met so many talented and nice people here, especially from the "Cillian fandom" (lmao feels so weird to write that, but u know what I mean)

I wish everyone the best for 2024, and may this new year be filled with Cillian content for all of you guys !

Much love ❤️❤️❤️

@darthannie

@forgottenpeakywriter

@mrkdvidal1989

@slut4thebroken

@pinguwrites

@mypoisonedvine

@red-write-hand

@youbyradiohead

@nimnim-girl

@betty21rose

@floralcyanide

#cillian murphy #oppenheimer #peaky blinders #tommy shelby #thomas shelby #watching the detectives #neil lewis #inception #robert capa #robert fischer

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sleekervae · 6 months

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Spooktober 👻

Happy Halloweekend, babies! I know I haven't been keeping up with my content as much as I would love to, but I wanna spotlight some of my recent supernatural/halloween fics that have been giving major 🥺🥵🤣👀. Give some of these creators some love and be safe out there this weekend!

Cherry Bomb - @retrievablememories

pairing: jungkook x fem reader

summary: “get fucked or die” becomes the motto to live by when a serial killer begins targeting virgins on your campus.

genre: smut, horror/slasher, college!au

Untitled - @talkfastromance4

pairing: calum hood x fem reader

summary: reader meets werewolf!calum at a party

genre: smut, fantasy

I Want to Bite You - @talkfastromance4

pairing: luke hemmings x fem reader

summary: reader wants vampire!luke to bite her

genre: adult (no explicit smut)

Dragon - @the-world-is-spinning-round

pairing: remington leith x fem reader

summary: dragon!remington takes pity on a human sacrifice

genre: fantasy

Haunted - @the-world-is-spinning-round

*honestly everything that this author writes is amazing so definitely go check out some of her work!

pairing: remington leith x fem reader

summary: Bonnie discovers a ghost in a haunted house

genre: fantasty

kinktober day 10 - @floralcyanide

pairing: Austin butler x fem reader

summary: A little naughty fun ensues with you and your boyfriend, Austin.

genre: smut

Happy Halloween - @krreader

pairing: jackson wang x bambam x fem reader

summary: a maid outfit isn’t exactly the best idea when having two jealous boyfriends, you know?

genre: smut

Descend - @sombreboy

pairing: kim namjoon x fem reader

summary: ‘’I’d say you are wasting my time, but that was before I saw you..’’ he tugged her face closer to his crotch, the bulge underneath the fabrics visibly twitching from having her attention. ‘’You will make it worth my while.’’

genre: smut, supernatural

Summoned - @emoboijk

pairing: poly!bts x fem reader

summary: You repeat their names as a mantra, as a prayer, as a guiding light when you feel scared. How were you to know it would summon them? You accidentally summon the 7 demons that make up BTS and they tell you to fulfill your contract they have to fuck you.

genre: smut, demon au

That Boy is a Monster - @wildernessuntothemselves

pairing: werewolf!woosung x vampire!reader

summary: You had sworn you would never feed on a human again, and for centuries you had kept your promise. But now, with your blood supply suddenly cut off, that primitive hunger you thought you’d conquered so long ago comes back with a vengeance and you find yourself on the hunt for human blood once again. Only it turns out that the hot boy you’d picked out wasn’t so human after all. Feat. baby Hajoon

genre: smut, violence

If anybody has any other recs I should add to this list just give me a shout!!

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floralcyanide · 28 days

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ᴡᴀʟᴋ ᴏɴ ᴡᴀᴛᴇʀ ᴏʀ ᴅʀᴏᴡɴ — ᴄᴀʟʟᴜᴍ ᴛᴜʀɴᴇʀ

callum turner x afab!reader (nsfw)

You and Callum are camp counselors. Both of you are up to no good one night and share an intimate moment.

✣ warnings: smut, penetrative sex, unprotected sex, sex in a lake, cigarette smoking, female anatomy described, nipple play, semi-public sex, fingering

✣ word count: 1.7k (idk how it came out so short)

✣ author’s note: thanks to a friend for the camp counselor idea and making me feel things lol and thanks for all the votes for this fic! I enjoyed writing it.

masterlist | divider credit: @cafekitsune

“Have you ever smoked a cigarette before?”

“No, I haven’t.”

“Want one?”

You stare at the cigarette in Callum’s outstretched hand, hesitant to take it. Your legs stop swinging on the dock where you’re perched next to the tall boy, your hand reaching out to take the cigarette from his fingers. You stick it between your lips, silently asking with your eyes, “Is this how I do it?” He nods encouragingly, sliding a match across its box and cupping the end of the cigarette with his hand before lighting it. The action alone sends butterflies raging in your stomach. You puff the cigarette, inhaling slowly so you don’t cough. Exhaling, tendrils of smoke leave your lips, and Callum watches in awe.

“You hit that like you’ve been smoking all your life,” Callum chuckles as you pull the cigarette from your mouth and offer it to him.

“Nah,” he says, “it’s all yours.”

The two of you are counselors at the summer camp outside your city and definitely were not allowed to smoke while on the campgrounds. You also weren’t supposed to be out past curfew. But the thrill of being caught is what gets to you. Callum just does it because his pretty face can get him out of any trouble. You stare out at the lake that seems to go on forever in a black abyss to the horizon. Callum bumps his knee into yours as you finish the cigarette, somehow managing not to cough too terribly much.

“Wanna skinny dip?” Callum suddenly asks, a giddy smile on his face.

“What? Are you delusional?” you laugh, putting out the cigarette on the wooden dock.

“Maybe,” he shrugs.

You search his eyes for any signs of him joking but see none.

“You’re serious?” you ask, looking around to ensure no one is listening.

“Deathly.”

You stare at each other momentarily before bursting into a quiet fit of giggles.

“Fine, but we gotta be quiet.”

You’re glad it’s dark so Callum can’t see the full extent of your body. But also disappointed that it’s dark because you can’t see Callum without his clothes, as much as you’d like to. Ever since the first day of orientation for counseling, you’ve been unable to keep your eyes off him. He seems to feel the same as you but less subtle. Callum has done nothing but flirt with you during the first two weeks of camp. Not that you mind, of course. But skinny dipping in the lake past curfew seems like a full-fledged affair.

Callum rips his shirt over his head, tossing it where his shoes sit neatly by the dock entrance. He then stands to discard his pants, and you watch in silence, unable to move as you drink in what you can see of Callum in the moonlight. You realize you’re staring and hurry to remove your own clothes, but you're hesitant to take off your underwear until Callum does. You avert your eyes quickly as he does so. You aren’t that experienced in seeing the male physique naked, given you’ve not had much experience with sex in general. Sure, you’ve given a blowjob here and there, but nothing past that. Maybe Callum's flirting is just for fun, and he isn’t expecting anything. Not that you’d say no to him starting something, though. After all, why not? He’s cute, polite, great with the kids, and isn’t bad to look at.

Your thoughts are interrupted when Callum slides off the dock and smoothly into the water. He surfaces after submerging himself fully, swiping his hair from his forehead.

“Coming?” Callum grins, wriggling his eyebrows.

“Yeah, but don’t look,” you say shyly, reaching behind your back to unclasp your bra.

Callum closes his eyes but, unbeknownst to you, peeks through one of his eyes to watch you shimmy out of your underwear. He hurries to close it back when he sees you slip into the lake. The water is comfortable as the sun had warmed it earlier in the day. You swim over to where Callum is, stifling a laugh as he pumps his fist in the air at you, joining him.

“Never would’ve thought that little ol’ you would be skinny dipping,” Callum shakes his head, tutting at you.

“Well, I definitely wouldn’t do it with anyone else,” you say honestly, and Callum smiles softly at you.

“I’ll take that as a compliment,” Callum sinks lower into the water until his chin is just above the surface.

You copy him, your eyes locked on his. Callum reaches out and tucks some hair behind your ear, the gesture sending chills through you despite the warmth of the lake. He swims closer to you, his legs nearly kicking against yours.

“Can I ask you something?”

“Sure,” you say.

“Would it make things weird if I kissed you?” Callum asks, his eyes flickering to your lips.

“No,” you shake your head, “I don’t think it would.”

Callum lifts a hand from the water to cup your cheek, the moonlight shining in his eyes as he leans in to kiss you. You let your eyes flutter shut as his lips press to yours, those butterflies from earlier returning. Both of you aren’t too far out in the water, so you can easily plant your feet on the bottom to anchor yourselves. Callum snakes a hand to your waist, his fingers gripping your skin slightly. He takes advantage of being near the shallows so he can pull you close to him without worrying about sinking. Callum deepens the kiss by catching you off guard and letting his tongue sneak into your mouth. One of your hands finds the back of his hair, water dripping onto his neck and your fingers. His hand slides up your side, his thumb brushing over your breast, causing you to nearly jump out of your skin.

“Is this okay?” Callum asks, pulling away but barely parted from your lips.

“Yeah, I just,” you bite your bottom lip, “I’ve never…” you trail off nervously.

“Never?” Callum raises his eyebrows, “A pretty thing like you?”

Your ears burn as you glance down awkwardly, “Never.”

“We don’t have to do anything if you don’t want to. I wouldn’t want to take your virginity in a murky lake,” Callum snorts.

“Even if you did, I wouldn’t care where it was. I like you, Cal.”

Callum flashes a smile at you, “I like you too.”

“You can do as you please. I don’t mind,” you say, “It’s about time, anyway. I’m not getting any younger.”

Callum chuckles at your last comment before grasping your breast under the water, letting his thumb wander over your nipple again, “Don’t worry, I’ll be slow with it.”

You shudder as Callum does it again, leaning in to kiss you once more as he teases you. He moves from your lips to your neck, leaving open-mouthed kisses there as he plays with your breasts, eliciting soft moans from you. You hope you don’t get caught. You brush that out of your mind as you let your hand move to Callum’s length, slowly pumping it until it hardens. He groans into your skin, kissing your shoulder gently. He lets his focus move from your upper body to your lower body, his fingers tracing your clit with softness. You move close to Callum until you’re against his chest for leverage, letting him play with you. He slips a finger inside you, your eagerness allowing it to go in without much struggle. Callum uses his thumb to swipe your clit as he adds another finger, curling them inside you and stretching you out deliciously. You bury your face in his neck, whimpering at the warmth spreading in your belly. Callum can feel you clenching around his fingers, noting you’re ready for him.

“Let me know if I need to stop,” Callum whispers in your ear, nipping the skin of your lobe as he lines himself up with your entrance.

You wrap your legs around his waist, and your arms are around his shoulders as he slowly pushes himself into you. It comes with some resistance as you’ve never had anything inside of you before, so Callum allows you to take deep breaths and relax before pushing anymore. He cards his fingers through your hair, encouraging and telling you how good you’re doing. It makes you take him easier, your cunt swallowing him nearly whole. Callum finally bottoms out, letting himself feel you around him for a second before pulling out slightly. He thrusts back in steadily, careful not to be too rough. After adjusting, you allow Callum to start fucking you properly, and you’re honestly shocked you didn’t do this sooner.

“Fuck,” you screw your eyes shut, gasping as Callum hits your g spot with a particularly harsh thrust.

“Just like that,” Callum says as your walls suck him in, “Doing so good, love.”

Your fingernails dig into his back as you bounce on Callum’s cock, him bucking his hips into you simultaneously. Callum takes advantage of your breasts being near his face as he clasps onto one of your hardened nipples, flicking it with his tongue and sending waves of electricity through you. Everything is clouding your head with pleasure as you feel yourself growing close. Callum grips your hips, his fingertips boring into your skin as he feels himself growing close, too.

“You can cum inside me,” you say in Callum’s ear, and he curses under his breath at that.

“Are you sure?”

“Positive.”

Callum plummets his hips against your thighs as you move yours in fluid motions, feeling him at every angle. He nudges your clit with his thumb again, and you tumble over the edge, clenching harshly around Callum’s length. The feeling of your cunt squeezing him and the filthy sounds you’re making in his ear make him cum without warning. You feel his warmth inside you as he shudders against your neck, leaving soft kisses along it.

“You did great,” Callum says, slowly pulling out of you.

You catch your breath, glancing around to see if anyone is nearby. Thankfully, you’re still alone, “That was amazing.”

“I’m glad,” Callum says.

“Let’s get out, I’m getting all pruney,” you cringe.

Callum laughs and agrees before realizing something.

“Didn’t think to bring towels,” he sighs.

“Race you to the showers, then?” you grin as the two of you climb back onto the dock.

“Get ready to be beaten.”

#callum turner #callum turner x reader #callum turner smut #callum turner x reader smut #callum turner x you #callum turner x you smut #callum turner x y/n #callum turner fanfiction #callum turner fic #callum turner fanfic #callum turner imagine #callum turner x y/n smut #camp cousnelor au #floralcyanide writes

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floralcyanidee · 8 months

Text

ᴊᴜsᴛ ᴀ ɢᴀᴍᴇ - ɴᴇɪʟ ʟᴇᴡɪs

Neil Lewis x AFAB!Reader (NSFW)

After a fateful game night between your two rival video stores, Neil proposes a new way of playing your favorite games. Will this new idea lead to something more than playful rivalry?

warnings: smut, face-riding, oral (f and m receiving), throat/ facefucking, cum swallowing, drinking, mentions of alcohol, strip poker/game

word count: 3632

author’s note: still shadowbanned on my main account yay /j but I'm so glad to have so much support and love on this new tumblr! thank you all for the follows and feedback. I didn't proofread some of this (but what's new), so if it flows weird I'm sorry >.< lol please enjoy!! I've had a few requests for Neil so (:

main masterlist | cillian murphy masterlist | add yourself to the taglist here

“That’s it! You’ve got to be cheating.”

“I am not cheating, Neil. Jesus.”

“There’s just no way you’re better at this game than me.”

“There’s a lot that I’m better at than you.”

“Woah, woah, woah,” Jonathan pipes up, coming in between you and Neil, “Let’s calm down here, guys.”

You glare at Neil, tossing your cards back into the pile. You had been playing UNO. It was tradition for your two movie stores to play against one another every first weekend of every month. And tonight, the players dwindled down to you and Neil as per usual, to which you won the final game of the night. Neil was obviously not happy about it. But lately, Neil hasn’t been happy about a lot of things. You chalk it up to his breakup with Violet. A sick, twisted part of you was glad he and Violet had finally broken up. Not because you didn’t like Neil or anything- it was quite the opposite. You were rivals, of course, but the tension between you was unmatched and intense. Every time game night came around, that tension became even more taut and thicker. But it’s not like you could tell Neil or anyone else you like him. Absolutely not. It would ruin the healthy competition between Gumshoe and your video store. And it would make you look hypocritical, considering how much you lightly bully Neil, especially when he wore those weird costumes at work.

“Two out of three?” Neil crosses his arms, sitting back in his chair, eyebrows raised.

“I think I’m gonna turn in, actually,” you start collecting the cards, neatly stacking them before putting them back in their respective package.

Neil mumbles a defeated, “Fine.”

As you get up from the poker table, Lucien gives you an apologetic look from the ragged old couch sitting adjacent to it. Jonathan urges Neil to get up and accept his loss for the month. Meanwhile, your best friend and coworker Nina is busy aimlessly walking around the store, taking in the interesting scenery of Gumshoe Video. She acts as if she’s never been in here before, taking in various movies and movie posters. You walk over to her, card games in hand.

“Ready to go?” you ask her, and she looks up at you, only for her eyes to advert behind you as she becomes visibly flustered.

You turn to see Jonathan helping Neil pack up the games, smiling at your best friend.

“Does someone have a crush?” you coo, and Nina shoves your shoulder playfully.

“Me? Have a crush? You’re delusional!” she throws her hands in the air dramatically as she walks toward the door, you trailing behind her.

Nina goes into a rant about how she’d never date a guy from this city, much less a guy from our rival video store. You glance behind your shoulder, saluting Lucien and Jonathan as you leave. Neil doesn’t look at you.

The next few weeks are relatively slow at your movie store. You wonder if Gumshoe is doing any better. Judging by the new and more dramatic costumes that Neil has come up with, you’d say the answer is probably no. When you and Nina occasionally stop in there to casually scope out the place, you make sure to make a witty comment about whatever getup Neil is in that day. It always came with a frown from him and a laugh from you. Lucien would just act like he didn’t hear anything, a knowing smirk on his face when you meet gazes. You’d glare at him until he eventually went to do something else. You and Lucien are pretty cool with each other, and he figured out how you feel about Neil pretty quickly. Lucien wasn’t stupid by any means. Jonathan was too busy stupidly flirting with Nina to notice how your stare would sometimes linger on Neil for too long. Nina knew, of course, but she didn’t care much. She always figured you and Neil had something going on whether you two knew it or not.

It’s nearing the end of the month, which means another game night soon. You hope Neil has gotten over whatever animosity he felt toward you for winning the last game. How he reacted was odd- he usually didn’t make such a fuss. Once again, you figure it has to do with his breakup. But then again, he’s been kind of grouchy even before the split and well after it so far. You’re in your office at your video store gathering the games you’re bringing, along with a bottle of alcohol to spice things up. Maybe Neil could loosen up a little. Nina knocks on the door as she walks in, ready to go.

“Got the stuff?” she asks.

“Yep,” you say, popping the ‘p’ as you turn out your office light.

The two of you begin walking to Gumshoe as the sun sets. Nina starts talking about something Jonathan said the last time you were at their video store, to which you roll your eyes. Definitely not a crush at all, you think to yourself. You arrive at the store, knocking on the glass as you wait for one of the boys to unlock the door. Neil approaches and opens the door, allowing you and Nina in. You walk over to the poker table, where Lucien and Jonathan are already seated.

“So tonight we’re gonna try something new,” Neil claps, rubbing his hands together as he grins deviously.

“And what’s that?” you wonder, sitting down the bottle of alcohol in the middle of the table.

“Strip poker,” Neil smirks, grabbing the bottle, “And this will definitely make it more interesting.”

“Strip poker?” you raise an eyebrow.

“Yeah, or, well, strip UNO and whatnot,” Neil shrugs.

“Uhh,” Lucien chuckles nervously, “I’m good. I’ll just be the moderator tonight.”

“Oh, come on, Luc,” you pout, “Don’t make me suffer alone.”

“You won’t be suffering alone. Jonathan and Nina will be here with you, right guys?”

Jonathan opens his mouth and then closes it, looking to Nina for her response.

“Uhh, sure. I guess. But I’m not getting naked, that’s for sure,” Nina scoffs, falling into a poker chair.

“Thank you,” you throw your head back in relief, sitting beside Nina. Neil sits across from you as Jonathan takes the seat to your right, already grabbing the bottle of alcohol from Nina and taking a swig.

“Let’s get this started.”

You run your hands through your hair. Tonight was going to be a long night.

“Any article of clothing counts, right?” Nina asks after the first round of 21 is completed, meaning everyone but Jonathan, who had won, had to take something off.

“Correct,” Neil answers.

“Cool. Take my shoe and shove it up your ass, then, Neil,” Nina pulls off her shoe, pushing it into Neil’s chest.

He rolls his eyes, “Whatever.”

You decide to remove a shoe, and Neil does the same, tossing it behind him.

“Another round?” Jonathan asks, sipping the whiskey that he brought.

You thought about taking a swig yourself but decided to wait until it was absolutely needed.

“Sure,” Neil drawls, reshuffling the cards before dealing them.

This time, you win, and everyone begrudgingly removes another shoe or a sock. Nina snatches the vodka bottle from the table, taking a large gulp of it before slamming it back down.

“Gonna chicken out already?” Neil taunts, gathering the cards to shuffle once more.

“No,” Nina says pensively, “It’s just lame that everyone else has to be involved in your weirdly sexual revenge plot against my favorite coworker over losing a stupid game.”

“I’m your only coworker,” you glare at Nina.

“Exactly. Now, if I will dip if it comes down to me flashing you guys my tits. Unless this alcohol starts setting in soon, then we’ll see.”

You raise your almost empty first cup, “Cheers to that.”

“Let’s get back to the game,” Neil grumbles.

No one says anything about Nina’s comment. After two more rounds of 21, you’re without a sock and shoe on your right foot and a shoe missing on your left. Neil has no socks or shoes, while Nina is just shoeless. Jonathan already took one for the team and removed his shirt and his other shoe after everyone lost to Nina twice in a row. Lucien cheered and clapped dramatically when Jonathan stripped his shirt, Lucien snatching the shirt and whipping it around like a lasso. It’s the first time tonight you see Neil crack a smile.

“How about we switch to a board game now? Something quick, of course,” Nina shrugs.

“Be my guest,” Neil says, and Nina chooses Connect 4.

“Jonathan and I can go first,” she grins wickedly.

“Good luck, dude. She’s a master at this game,” you warn Jonathan, who cracks his knuckles.

“Nothing I can’t handle. I beat Lucien at this all the time,” he says, and Lucien protests.

“Only because you cheat,” Lucien says matter-of-factly.

“Well, since you're the moderator, you can make sure I don’t, huh?” Jonathan bites back.

Neil cackles while Lucien purses his lips together into a line, wordlessly watching as Nina separates the color pieces.

After 3 rounds of Connect 4, Jonathan has won one and Nina the other. You beat Neil once already, and now it was time to see if he’d win or lose this final round. You’re nervous because if you lose, you have to remove a pretty vital item of clothing. It didn’t matter if it was pants, your shirt, or whatever- it would be embarrassing. You carefully calculate your moves, studying Neil’s determined and methodical facial expression. He catches you in a trap, letting his color piece fall on top of yours, blocking you from your final winning move.

“Fuck,” you seethe, dropping your head onto your arms.

“Fuck is right, my dear,” Neil slides the lever, letting all the pieces fall onto the table, “Now strip.”

You scowl, reaching behind your back to unclasp your bra, pulling the straps over your arms, and tossing it to the floor. Neil watches, his eyebrows raised. Jonathan scoffs, and Lucien is distracted by the music video playing on TV. Nina laughs at Neil’s face.

“Neil, my guy, you look like a tomato,” Nina teases.

“Do not,” he protests childishly, gathering the colored pieces and putting them back into their little bag.

Jonathan checks his watch, “Shit. Gotta head to bed. Double shift tomorrow,” he frowns.

Lucien also checks his watch, “Yeah, I oughta go too. Early morning.”

Neil sighs, “Well, if you guys are up for it,” he motions to you and Nina, “I’ll still play.”

“I actually am getting sleepy, but I think Y/N is totally down to stay,” Nina volunteers you with a smile.

You go to protest, but everyone is already heading out the door, leaving you with Neil.

“Well, shit. I guess it’s just you and I,” you scratch your neck.

“Yep,” Neil nods, pulling out UNO, “Wanna rematch?”

“Sure,” you chuckle, “But you can’t pout when I beat your ass again.”

You’re nearing the end of the first round, and your heart is starting to beat out of your chest. Both of you have one card left. And you’re going to have to remove your pants if you lose. You aren’t sure if you want to cross that line with Neil or not, but a game is a game. And you aren’t about to turn down your win streak and look like a fool. You draw a blue 9, to which Neil slams down his final card. A blue 5.

“Noo,” you drawl, and Neil cheers.

You put your head down on the table in defeat.

“Time to-”

“Strip. Yeah, I know,” you sigh, lifting your head.

You reach down and hesitantly undo your pants, pulling them past your thighs and down your legs before kicking them away. Neil doesn’t look anywhere but your face as he shuffles the cards, his cheeks turning red. You nervously keep your legs closed, scooting closer to the table.

In the next round, Neil loses, removing his shirt. His torso is slim yet fit for his size, and you can’t help but stare. Neil clears his throat, and you quickly look away. Now, the tension was thick enough to cut with a knife. It was way more intense than your usual tension. Especially since if you lose this next round, you’ll be showing something very revealing. Thankfully, Neil loses again, having to strip his pants this time. But it only makes you more anxious.

“We don’t have to continue if you don’t feel comfortable,” Neil says.

You shake your head, “I’m fine. I’m not pussying out.”

“Alright,” Neil puts his hands up.

You watch him unwaveringly as he shuffles the cards, distributing 7 for each of you. As the game progresses, you and Neil exchange increasingly heated glances. You catch yourself pressing your thighs together, biting your lip when you catch Neil staring at your nipples poking through your shirt. It’s time for the final draw, and to your horror, you lose again. Sighing, you begrudgingly grab the vodka and chug it. When you put the bottle down, you look at Neil, and he looks at you. Hesitantly, you grab the hem of your shirt, pulling it up and over your head. Neil keeps his eyes on yours, visibly trying not to look at your breasts. He clears his throat and shuffles the cards, focusing intently on them. Neil tosses the cards between the two of you, his eyes nervously flickering between your tits and the cards. Neil gathers his cards, neatly stacking them and putting them face down before standing up from his seat.

“I’ll, uh, be right back. Don’t look at my cards,” he says, his voice strained.

When he stands, you notice the painful bulge in his jeans, and the alcohol gives you a moment of bravery.

“Neil. Stay.”

Neil stops in his tracks, not turning to look at you, “Can’t.”

“Why is that? Never seen a pair of tits before?”

Neil rolls his eyes at your joke, turning back to you, “It’s not that. I just-”

You grab Neil’s hand, pulling him down harshly so his face is level enough with yours to kiss him.

“You’re not helping,” Neil whines after he pulls away, uncomfortably shifting around.

“I mean, I could if you let me,” you say, biting your lip nervously, worried he’d reject you.

But maybe he won’t. Maybe he needs you badly enough that he won’t pass up your opportunity. You hope he doesn’t.

“Wouldn’t it be, I don’t know, weird?” Neil grimaces.

“Not if you don’t make it weird,” you say sassily, your hand now in his hair, gently pulling at his locks.

“Fine,” Neil closes his eyes, exhaling shakily, “Let’s go to the couch.”

He walks over to the beat-up sofa, letting himself fall into the cushions. You get up from your chair, moving quickly to kneel on the floor in front of Neil. He stares down at you, gulping as you fumble with the fly of his jeans. You aren’t going to lie, you’ve been waiting for this moment for some time. Granted, it wasn’t here in the video store, but you’ll take what you can get. You pull Neil out from the confines of his pants and underwear, immediately marveling at his size and girth. He groans at the contact of your hand around him and spreads his thighs apart as you kitten lick his tip. You take Neil into your mouth, hollowing your cheeks as you slide your head down into his lap. Your nose touches his pelvis, his hair tickling it as you let him hit the back of your throat. Gagging around him momentarily, you take a deep breath and focus on the feeling of him filling you up.

“Just like that,” Neil praises, his fingers carding through your hair.

A swirl of your tongue sends his head lolling back on the couch, and he glances down through his lashes to watch you bob your head along his length. Your hands grip his thighs to hold him steady as you gain a rhythm, letting his hand guide your head back and forth. Neil’s hips stutter as he involuntarily thrusts into your mouth, and you gasp through your nose as you try not to gag.

“Sorry,” Neil cringes, a moan leaving him immediately after you keep him deeper in your throat, letting it pulse around his head.

You stare into Neil’s intense blue eyes, now overtaken by his dilated pupils. Both of his hands are in your hair, gripping harshly as you move your head up and down even faster. Neil curses, hissing as you play with his balls with one of your hands, urging him closer to the edge. You can feel him twitching inside your mouth, letting you know he’s close. Suddenly, you pull off him.

“Fuck my throat,” you say breathlessly, jerking his wet cock with your hand as you wait for his answer.

“Are you sure?” Neil asks.

“Yes,” you say before putting him back into your mouth.

When you let his tip hit the back of your throat again, Neil then pulls out, slamming back into your mouth with a strangled cry. Slowly, he starts finding a good pace, not thrusting enough to hurt you but enough for your throat to be sore tomorrow. Spit and precum are spilling out of the sides of your mouth, tears streaming down your cheeks as you gag and moan around him. You wish you could see the situation from a different point of view just to see how Neil is wrecking you right now.

“You like me fucking your face like this, sweetheart?” Neil grunts, his hands holding your face and wiping away your tears.

You attempt a nod but fail, letting out a hum of content instead.

“Gonna cum in your pretty mouth,” Neil moans.

You let him continue fucking into your face until he twitches a final time, his cum shooting down your tongue and throat. You allow Neil to pull out of you, and you close your mouth to swallow his load. You open your mouth to show him it’s all gone, to which he lets out a weak groan.

“That’s hot. I didn’t know you could do that with that sassy mouth of yours.”

You shrug, “There’s lots of things I can do with it. Now, lay down.”

Neil obeys, scrambling to lie down on the couch. You stand up, peeling off your soaking underwear and moving it away with your toe. You climb above Neil, “Ever had anyone sit on your face?”

“No,” he exhales, shaking his head.

“Would you like to?”

Neil nods vigorously, and you move up enough to rest your foot on the couch's armrest and press your knee next to Neil’s head, spreading open enough for him to have plenty of access. He marvels at the sight of your arousal and the fact it was all for him. He reaches tentatively to your folds, spreading them further as you lower yourself to his face.

Neil then drags his tongue up your wet slit, avoiding your clit entirely as he gathers your slick. You whimper at the feeling of the contact of his warm tongue on you, your pussy sensitive from lack of touch and being incredibly turned on. Neil then flicks the tip of his tongue along your clit, circling and teasing it. You cry out, gripping the couch with one hand and his hair with the other. You buck your hips as he swirls his wet tongue around your cunt, lapping up everything you’re giving him.

“Fuck, you’re so good at this,” you moan, meeting Neil’s eyes below you.

Neil doesn’t respond but instead dips his tongue into your entrance, twisting it as he starts fucking you with it. Your grip on his hair tightens as you start rocking your hips on his tongue.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” you seethe, feeling warmth spreading in your belly.

Neil replaces his tongue with two fingers, moving his focus back to your clit as he sucks on it, pounding his fingers into you. He finds your G spot relatively quickly, considering you nearly jump out of your skin when he rubs his fingertips against it. You’re a mess, sweating, moaning, and swiveling your hips shakily on Neil’s mouth and fingers.

“I’m close,” you warn, the tight knot in your stomach threatening to come undone any moment.

Neil picks up his speed on flicking his tongue and harshly suckling your bundle of nerves, letting his teeth graze against it as he adds a third finger. He lets you fuck yourself on his fingers hard as he lets his teeth bite into your clit softly, sending you over the edge. Your body shakes, your legs nearly giving out on you as Neil guides you through your orgasm. He holds onto your hips, keeping you steady as you buck them wildly. When you slow down, panting, he removes his fingers and sucks off your juices from them.

“You’re a filthy little fucker,” you chuckle, running a hand through your hair as you dismount from Neil’s face.

Everything about Neil acting weird and ornery around you suddenly makes sense. From the sneaky glances during game nights to him occasionally stopping in your video store to snoop for no reason, it was all for you. Just like everything you did was all for him as well.

“So who wins this round, hm?” he asks jokingly, wiping his face with the back of his arm.

“Truce?” you ask sweetly, moving to sit on Neil’s fully clothed thighs.

Neil sighs, a weak smile on his lips, “Sure.”

“Now take off your pants,” you urge, “It’s time for round two of this game.”

taglist:

@sstar-ggirl @ldklollord @dunklerkeks1611 @baizzhu @aporiasposts @hjmalmed @queenshelby @amanda08319 @naty-1001 @orijanko @raineeace @nela-cutie @cutexlr @flwrs4aust @langdons-slut @shynovelist @trixie23 @cillsmurphies @thecherrycocktail @slut4thebroken @mypoisonedvine @babybluebex @burnyouwithacigarettelighter @cranesbathtowel @arieslost @nefhertari @forgottenpeakywriter @llucky-llove @october-atoner @madlittlecriminal @ynisthatyou @starbxnny @darkmoviesquotespizza @newtsniffles @acapelladitty

#cillian murphy #cillian murphy x reader #cillian murphy smut #neil lewis #neil lewis x reader #neil lewis x reader smut #neil lewis smut #cillian murphy x reader smut #watching the detectives #neil lewis x you #neil lewis x you smut #neil lewis x y/n #neil lewis x y/n smut #cillian murphy x you #cillian murphy x you smut #cillian murphy x y/n #cillian murphy x y/n smut #floralcyanide writes

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feydfuckernation · 1 year

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a lot can happen in a year.

from the beginning of the year to the end of the year, i've been on six or seven new medications (give or take). i went from being unemployed for over a year and a half to having a part time job that pays the same as my last. i went from hardly ever leaving the house to seeing movies and going out with friends. i started doing therapy again. and i rejoined tumblr, something i wasn't sure I'd ever do again. i've never been overly fond of social media to begin with, and i wasn't sure if I was even making the right decision to start using it again. i had been in fandom communities off and on for years, with experiences far more negative than they ever were positive, and i couldn't be sure that this would be any different.

i am so very glad to say i was wrong.

i've talked about elvis on a handful of occasions now, but allow me, if you will, the chance to be sentimental about its significance one last time. prior to june of this year i had no real concept of what baz lurhmann had planned when he released elvis 2022 into the world. yet another musical biopic, this time carried on the shoulders of a relative unknown? i have always had love for baz lurhmann's artistry, but this seemed like a long shot, even for him.

still, it had my attention.

i had given up on any attempts to connect with my family after years of false promises, spending most of my summer feeling isolated from most of the people in my life for one reason or another. i decided I'd treat myself to something after the way the year had gone thus far. knowing my dad liked elvis, i convinced him to go see the movie with me on its opening weekend, thinking we both might get something out of it.

it was, without a doubt, one of the best experiences i've ever had sitting in a theater.

i went on to see elvis seven more times in theaters, each time wondering whether or not the magic would wear off and it would lose its opulent, cinematic luster. in reality, it only ever burned brighter and brighter, giving me a love and appreciation of elvis presley that i wouldn't otherwise have beyond the simple enjoyment of music i had listened to off and on for as long as i can remember. it introduced me to a talent whose performance was so captivating it made me overlook tom hanks in every scene he was in. and, perhaps more than anything, it introduced me to people who were not only like-minded in their experience with this film, but were unwavering in their kindness and their friendship.

elvis is not the entity of my tumblr experience (this being my 4th time interacting on the platform). there are many other people and types of content i have interacted with since starting this blog and, if you have made it this far, i simply want to thank everyone for the memories they have given me at a time when I needed it most.

to the people who colour my dash with their passion for the things they love most. my dash would not be the same without you.

@68special @aconflagrationofmyown @avengen @bcofl0ve @countesspetofi @fantuhsise @feverkitten @flwrs4aust @himbocampus @mamaspresley @obetrolncocktails @skinnyscottishbloke @slowsweetlove @stargiirl27 @steph-speaks @superbatson @thatonemoviefan

to the people whose creations inspired me to rediscover the joy of what it is to make art

@floralcyanide @melis-writes @nathandrqke @she-is-juniper

and finally to my friends, the people who have pulled me out of a shell i didn’t realize i was in. your kindness means more to me than you know.

@ab4eva @areacodefan @bisexualwvtson @burninlovebutler @cryingabtab @cutienerd13 @dreaming-of-hope @elvisfatass @gggoldfinch @itey @karamelcoveredolicity @lavenderelvis @lindszeppelin @lllsaslll @loving-elvis @luluthesandgoose @mxrspng @mymamalife @nora-nexus-34 @powerofelvis @samfangirls @star-shard @troubleinapinksuit and my darling artemis, who is not on tumblr, but holds a special place in my heart regardless

i never expected to have followers, or an impromptu movie club, or even a blog to begin with. i certainly didn’t expect to end the year on a positive note. i am not someone who makes a habit of being particularly optimistic, but i dare to hope that maybe, just maybe, this next year will be better. to all of you reading this, wherever you are, may you find kindness and warmth and many blessings in 2023. may you eat well and heal and continue to grow. may you find comfort in the things you love, and may your new year be rich with the love and support of the ones you hold dear in your life, be it family, friends, or pets. whatever your year may have been, i hope it ends on a better note than it began on, and i look forward to not only sharing new films, but making new memories with all of you.

in the immortal words of elvis presley, "til we meet again, may god bless you. adios."

all my love to you, 🦁❤️

#ily all ya nelly #lion.txt #follow forever #also if i forgot anyone i am literally going to lose sleep tonight please be gENTLE WITH MEEEEEEE #basically if you're reading this? hi. hello. i love you. i hope you're drinking enough water today #never ever doubt your value and your worth as a person #you are a beautiful wonderful human being and i hope you find the love and peace you deserve in 2023 #see you all next year 🦁❤️

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tom-whore-dleston · 2 years

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I once again forgot to make a list of my fic recommendations for July so I will combine July and August together. Who knows, maybe this will be my thing lol Some of these works are 18+ only so please be respectful of their warnings and boundaries! Make sure to reblog and comment on these amazing fics! Your feedback and responses are what motivate them to continue writing such beautiful works 💖💖💖

✩July✩

headcanons of your fave walking in on you getting out of the shower by @angelltheninth

Steve Rogers, Bucky Barnes, Sam Wilson, Loki, Thor, Valkyrie, Kate Bishop, Tony Stark, Peter Parker, Shang-Chi x Reader

Ride the Lightning by @wint3r-h3art

Thor Odinson x reader

Going undercover with Nathan Drake by @/angelltheninth

Nathan Drake x reader

Refinement by @fluffyprettykitty

Bruce Banner x reader

In a Barbie World by @sidepartskinnyjeans

Bucky Barnes x reader

Suit & Tie by @/wint3r-h3art

Stephen Strange x reader

dazed & confused by @boop-le-snoot

Stephen Strange x reader

Sultry by @/fluffyprettykitty

Marc Spector x reader x Layla El Fouly

✩August✩

Middle by @/fluffyprettykitty

Joaquin Torres x reader

Complete Faith by @blackbat05

Steven Grant x Reader

I've Got You Darlin' | Prologue by @psychedelic-ink

moon knight (all alters) x reader x din djarin

Just Friends by @floralcyanide

Austin Butler x reader

Wrestling with the Heart by @ladyfallonavenger

Bucky Barnes x reader

Solidarity by @blackbat05

Xu Shangqi x reader

Succiduous pt. 1 | pt. 2 by @huffle-pissed

Steven Grant x Reader

I Got You by @/wint3r-h3art

Frank Castle x Reader

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heartbrake-hotel · 3 months

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TIME FOR A WIP TAG GAME 💫

rules: in a new post, post the names of all the files in your WIP folder, regardless of how non-descriptive or ridiculous. let people send you an ask with the title that most intrigues them and then post a little snippet of it or tell them something about it! and then tag as many people as you have WIPs.

oh nooo exposed by smitty for my ridiculous doc names.. how could you DO this to meee 😭 dfghs but thanks for the tag darlin @prompted-wordsmith.!!

(tagged on my main but i thought i'd go ahead and post here instead... if i posted all of my wips for every fandom, we'd be here a month 🤭)

my naming conventions are notably all either coded nonsense only comprehensible to me, or song lyrics that are not, in fact, from the song i Actually titled the fic with.! it got so ridiculous i made a spreadsheet to keep track of their shorthand names, their Real Actual Titles, and their summaries. just so i could always find right what i was looking for. i love to cross-reference ! three cheers for color-coding ! 🎉 luckily for me, said doc came in veryyy handy when it came to copy/pasting for this tag game 😂😂

daddy? sorry, da-

i get no help around this goddamn house

this is the Real t&s

he was the congregations vagrant

cry about it, fucker

the saints we see are all made of gold

all the small things

lover's lover's alibi

he's the one to call (dr. feelgood)

my middle name is miseryyy

ho ho hopefully

this is NOT feederism it is cARETAKING

who do you love

what breed is he just a little guy

toxic las vegas

achy breaky head

catch a falling star💫

being weird together is a love language

oscars flop era

9 to 5

go out by the oak leaf

motorpsyche 🏍️

ive beaten the orange camaro

ginger snapped 🐺

vacation all ive ever wanted

polk salad booty is this anything

some of these have been in the works for YEARS, like.. since the movie actually came out.. i started writing two days after i got home from the theater the first time oOP look y'all know me alright the likelihood any of these will actually make it to posting on this blog is,, uh. Slim !! ngl it's pretty slim. i have wips from over a decade ago that STILL don't feel done enough to publish 🙈 but these in particular are very near and dear to my heart and i'd love to gauge y'all's interest anyway.! so fire away, ask me anything, i love to talk and am always down to gush 👍

tagging: @whositmcwhatsit, @thatbanditqueen, @be-my-ally, @mooodyblue, @vintagepresley, @floralcyanide, @whatstruthgottodowithit,@dreamingofep, @ooihcnoiwlerh, @suraemoon, @vintageshanny, uhhh i panicked at the length of this list and don't know who else writes around here and is left to tag, but pleaseeee take this as an open invitation to join in if you want!! i'd love to see everyone's systems 🥰🥰 and of course no pressure if you don't 👌

#tag game #blurb #the ideas for many of these came from other fics in this fandom as well.!!#MANY #old ones especially and some by authors who arent active anymore !#...like i said ive been writing these for a loooong time #srsly the a/ns i left in my drafts are like time capsules in and of themselves #so pleaseeee ask me questions so i can rave abt those original inspo fics dfgh #if u werent around in the beginning id love to name drop some of these classics #and if u WERE we can reminisce.! 🥰

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sassy-ahsoka-tano · 2 years

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Polk Salad Annie

Character/Fandom: Elvis - Elvis (2022)

Requested: No, but ty to @floralcyanide for suggesting i do this because apparently it was meant to be ♥️

Prompt: A mean, vicious, straight razor-totin woman. Lawd have merthy. You're Annie from Polk Salad Annie and you're shocked to hear that Elvis is singing a song all about you. [ Fem!OC ]

TW: Mentions of death + prison but as always, lmk if i missed any ��

Rating: Pg-13 || Word Count: 8980 OOPS

A/N: (1) This is more of an OC character than a reader insert just FYI cause, you know, you have to be Annie for this one. (2) It flips between past and present, so watch out for the ~ ~ ~ dividers. (3) I'm also aware that Elvis didn't originally write the song but for the sake of this fic, he did lmao (4) I do, in fact, know how to spell Louisiana but for the voice of the character it's spelled wrong.

i am officially changing my name to Polk Salad Annie. the transformation is complete. i am annie and i am this song's #1 biggest fan. the gif at the bottom is the sexiest thing on the planet. change my mind.

🦋 mila

─────•~❉᯽❉~•─────

“Annie, come on let’s go!” her friend shouts, tugging at her arm.

Annie laughs, readjusting the white silk sash which cuts across her breast and torso in a diagonal. In cheap plastic diamond-lookalike beads, a five-letter word stretched across the sash. BRIDE. While the observers at the poker and blackjack tables might understandably think Annie to be the bride, she isn’t the one getting married. Annie doesn’t even have a partner let alone a fiancé. No, it’s been upwards of five years since Annie last had a romantic relationship. Not that she's much minded being alone, considering the past five years have been the first time she was able to escape the boondocks of Louisiana to live a life that is solely her own.

But Annie couldn’t help but appreciate the attention and satisfaction of knowing how jealous of her the single middle-aged women blowing their life savings on the casino floor probably are. Although those women will be hoping to land some kind of man in their beds that night, Annie will be more than content to sleep alone. She’s even more glad for her solitude when she catches the eye of a disgustingly round man, eyeing her up and down as he wipes sweat from his brow. Unafraid and, frankly, pissed off, Annie stares back for a moment as her friend continues to stumble drunkenly through the casino floor, dragging Annie along behind her. Annie suddenly yanks her friend’s shoulder away just in time to avoid crashing into a casino worker laden down with poker chips.

“Woah there, Jessie. Slow down, hunny,” Annie says with a chuckle as the girl giggles and hiccups beside her.

Jessie, Annie’s best friend and the actual bride, has certainly been making the most of her bachelorette weekend. Although Annie isn’t sure how much of it Jessie will remember considering she’s been drunk off her ass for the vast majority of it. As the eldest of the group and the maid of honor, Annie isn’t drinking. And even if she was, she could hold her liquor better than any of the other bridesmaids in attendance. Annie has always been a tough nut to crack, even more impossible if you’re a man.

Annie is used to being the caregiver anyway, and it isn’t something that she finds inconvenient or irritating in any way. It's just part of who she is and she doesn’t mind that so much. For example, when drunken Jessie decided that the bridal sash was too much of a nuisance, she handed it off to a willing Annie, who accepted it without question. According to Jessie, Annie isn’t allowed to remove it under any circumstances. Although the sash isn’t really Annie’s style and maybe doesn’t match so well with her worn brown cowboy boots and light-wash flared jeans, she’ll wear it as long as Jessie requests it. Anything on the bride's special day.

Jessie leans heavily on Annie’s strong arm as they approach the theater inside the International Hotel, where the girls have been spending their weekend. A few more of the bridesmaids saunter up behind them, most tipsy at the least. Annie pulls out their tickets and hands the long strand of blueish paper over to the ticket taker who rips them off and hands back the stubs.

“Enjoy the show, ladies! Should be a good one for you tonight!” he says with a wink.

Annie holds on tighter to Jessie and shoots the man a displeased look. Annie’s never had the best track record with men and tends not to trust them, in general. On top of that, she was born and raised to be protective over the ones she loves, no matter the cost. And that's another thing she would never change about herself. Ever.

The troupe of young women walk into the theater and Annie’s eyebrows shoot up in shock. It’s certainly a different type of theater than the ones she’s used to. Louisiana has arts culture, sure, but the honky tonks and hayrides she’s been to in the past are vastly different than the big city feel of this coliseum. She can’t help but let her eyes circle around the ceiling, taking in all the ornate golds, blues, and reds which sparkle on the walls. The girls take their seats in a booth and a waiter approaches the table almost immediately. Jessie reaches for a drink menu, holding it upside down as she tries to slur out the name of an alcoholic beverage. Annie gently takes the menu from her grasp and turns to the waiter.

“Just waters, all round, please ‘en thank ya,” she says with a curt smile. The waiter nods before trotting off to fulfill the order. “So who’s even performin here tonight?”

Annie turns back to face her friends, her eyes flicking between the five of them. Sarah, Dottie, and Clarabelle are far too drunk to answer and Lenora just shrugs. Luckily, Leigh Anne smiles widely and nods.

“Last I heard, it was Elvis!” Leigh Anne replies, clapping her hands together excitedly. Annie had been shoving a piece of bread into her mouth but now she stops short, glancinng over at her friend with wide eyes.

“E-Elvis?” she repeats. “Elvis Presley?”

“I’m sorry, do you know another Elvis? Yes, of course, Elvis Presley! What’s wrong, sugar? Your face is whiter than a sheet all of a sudden.”

“I…it’s nothin,” Annie responds, dropping her eyes down and placing the bread back on her plate. The waiter returns with their drinks but as he moves to walk back to the kitchen, Annie grabs hold of his arm. “On second thought, whiskey on the rocks.”

In the next fifteen or so minutes that follow, the conversation flows freely and somewhat coherently between the bridesmaids. Jessie is beginning to sober up, slowly but surely. Annie remains silent, retracted into herself while she relives a life long passed and memories lost.

“You sure you’re alright, Annie?”

Annie’s head snaps up to see Leigh Anne staring over at her with furrowed eyebrows, her hand resting on Annie’s bicep reassuringly. Before Annie has a chance to respond, with a lie, loud music strikes up onstage and their attention is pulled to the shining gold curtains. They are extremely gaudy, shimmering incessantly in the lights as they pull apart to reveal a man in a striking white jumpsuit prancing onstage. The room erupts into screams, hoots, and cheers as Elvis Presley himself emerges and takes his position at center stage. Annie’s eyes immediately click onto his frame. It’s so unfamiliar now…

The last time she’d seen him, he was a scrawny little young man who wore pink silk suits from second-hand stores on Beale Street and dusty old shoes worth a whole ten cents. The man that stands before her now is decked out in a custom-made jumpsuit, fitted perfectly to his frame, which is also different. He seems taller somehow, more filled out, and beefier. He moves easier, with more elegance and more command. Her eyes travel up his frame, admiring the way the pants hug his legs tightly and how much his hair has grown out since she’d last seen him. It’s shaggy now, very stylish for the day, and so wild. She smiles at the chest hair poking out from between the open flaps of his jumpsuit. His face is fully-formed, masculine and classic with a long thin nose and plump shapely lips.

He’s a man now and Annie suddenly feels like a little girl on her parent’s farm back in Louisiana.

The band strikes up a chord and Elvis begins to sing. The room grows even louder with the rhythm of the music in conjunction with the fans singing along and screaming with joy. Annie winces as Jessie’s piercing shrieks fill her eardrums. Jessie flies to her feet and starts dancing, bouncing from foot to foot as she sings along with the music.

Annie has heard some of his songs, of course. Most of them, probably. But she can never bring herself to listen too closely to the lyrics. She always worries that the memories she’s buried will return with a vengeance to attack her heart all over again. Sometimes she still feels a dulled pain when she hears that deep, angelically southern voice. She notices now that it escapes raspier, deeper than it had been when she’d heard him sing so many years ago. She understands fully why the room has erupted into cheers and screams. It’s sexy, but she always knew that.

She’s kept up with his career. Loosely. She owns an album or two, she’d watched the ‘68 special on NBC on the miniature television at the diner. She's strangely proud to see how far he’s come but also jealous when she realizes that she’s barely moved at all.

“Isn’t he amazing!” Leigh Anne yells as she claps along to the music, a massive smile plastered on her face. Annie returns with a tight-lipped grin and nods.

“He’s much different than when I knew him,” Annie responds without thinking. Almost immediately, she feels the eyes of the entire bridal party on her.

“Excuse me?” Lenora shouted. “Knew him? How do you know Elvis Presley?”

Annie shakes her head dismissively.

“Okay, I barely knew ‘im. I saw him perform at the Lousiana Hayride and we…we spent a day together. That was all.”

“Spent a day together? Sugar!” Leigh Anne shouts, slapping Annie gently on the arm. Annie pulls back, throwing an incredulous expression at her friend. “Oh my god, you should totally try to go backstage to see him. I bet he’d let you back into his dressing room if he remembers you. Then, maybe, we can see it too!”

The girls erupt into giggles and fits of joy, but Annie shakes her head firmly.

“Absolutely not. It wadn’t anything special! We were jus…acquaintances. There ain’t no way he’d possibly remember me. And even if he somehow miraculously did, I wouldn’t want my reunion with ‘im to involve me beggin to let my friends backstage to see his underwear.”

As Annie snaps back to the present moment, she finds that the song has changed into an upbeat rhythm with a guitar riff continuing in the background. Annie can’t help but tap her foot to the beat as she watches Elvis’ leg bounce up and down anxiously. She smiles. He’s always had a jittery leg and she’d noticed it from the first time she saw him sing at the hayride.

“Some of y’all never been down south too much. Imma tell you a lil story so’s you’ll understand what I’m talkin bout,” Elvis’ deep voice reverberates throughout the room. “Down ‘ere we have a plant that grows out in the woods and the fields. And it looks somethin like a turnip green. Errebody calls it polk salad.”

Annie cocks her head at the mention of the familiar plant. She wracks her brain frantically, suddenly trying to recall whether the plan grows anywhere other than Louisiana. Before she can come up with the answer, he provides it.

“Used to know a girl lived down ‘ere. She’d go out in the evenings and pick her a mess of it, carry it home and cook it for supper. Just about all they had to eat, but they did alright.”

~ ~ ~

Annie’s breath stops and her eyes widen. Suddenly, she’s flashed all the way back to 1956. She was only eighteen at the time, freshly graduated from the little high school down the dirty country road. She’d just gone to the hayride for fun, not expecting much. But he’d been there and she’d witnessed the effect he had on women firsthand. Even back then, he had them screaming like there was no tomorrow. She’d never felt so alive in her life, everything in her screaming to touch him, to understand what all the fuss was about. As she and Jessie left the hayride that day, she’d accepted that she would never see him again. That Elvis Presley was out of her life, just a blink of a memory.

Of course, she was wrong. She saw him not even an hour later at the carnival which had come into town at the same time. He was leaning against a wall near the cotton candy stand. She’d become frozen, utterly enamored with him. She’d stared at him with wide eyes across the busy carnival grounds and he’d stared back. Then he’d approached her, against all odds. Little old Annie in her hand-me-down green dress with mud stains, holes ripped through the ends, and a little yellow patch sewn onto the back over a hole too big to patch up. Her little brown saddle shoes were a size too big and scuffed with irreversible grass stains.

But from the moment his stupid southern drawl reached her ears, Annie knew she was a goner. He swooped her up, carted her around the carnival to do all the activities. They’d played some games, he won her a tiny stuffed bear, they rode the ferris wheel together and sat side by side as the wind whipped through their hair. He’d drawn her into the house of mirrors where he pushed her against the cold glass and kissed her neck, something a boy had never done to her before. Her unbrushed hair was stuck into braids and his fingers trailed down the plaits as he gently ran his thumb across the texture of it. They shared a Pepsi and cotton candy. He paid. He’d wanted to walk her home but she refused. She couldn’t bear to have him see where she came from, where she lived. He couldn’t know.

Of course, he insisted and she denied, running off into the dark night through a path she knew he couldn’t follow.

But it hadn’t mattered what she’d done because he found her anyway. Somehow. She never did understand where he got the information from, but it was a small town and everyone knew where everyone else lived. And so the next morning, she was utterly shocked when she opened the front door to see Elvis standing right there in front of her with a bouquet of bright purple and pink flowers. She’d quickly taken the bouquet, stepped outside, and slammed the door behind her. Anger flowed through her veins.

“What the hell are you doin here?” she’d hissed, pushing him away from the windows.

“Well, damn honey, I just came to see ya since you ran off last night,” he said with a shrug. Annie’s face grew hot with embarrassment. She wasn’t playing a very good host.

“No, you can’t be here,” she replied, trying to push him down the steps and back the way he’d come. “Didja ever think maybe there’s a reason I didn’t invite ya here. Why I didn’t want ya to walk me home?”

“I did think bout that. Then I decided not to care,” he responded with a grin.

Annie wanted so badly in that moment to come up with a sassy answer matching his attitude, but nothing came to her mind except for a laugh. Glancing up into his shining blue eyes, she let one escape her lips before shaking her head and rolling her eyes.

“Fine. Thank ya. But you need to leave. If my brothers see ya here, I-”

“You’ll what?”

Both Annie and Elvis’ heads jerked to the side to see one of Annie’s brothers, Blake Landry, staring them down with his arms folded tightly over his chest. Annie’s heart began to ache with embarrassment. Her other three brothers were standing behind Blake. Wyatt, Cash, and John. All four of them were tall and strong, quite intimidating with their rippling muscles and white wife beater tank tops stained with mud, dirt, sweat, and probably beer. They all had their hair cropped tightly against their skulls, uneven in the back courtesy of the $2 haircuts from their neighbor down the street.

It was silly, really, but Annie had a dream that one day she’d be able to afford a real haircut. One like all those pretty ladies wore, the ones she saw when she went into town to sell her crocheted socks and scarves for extra cash.

“You datin our sister?” questioned Blake before he spat a loogie onto the ground. Blake was the oldest and he certainly acted like it.

“It ain’t nunna your business, Blake. It ain’t none of y’alls business neither,” she spat back, gesturing to her other brothers. “Don’t y’all got farm work to do or somethin?”

“Shut up Annie,” Wyatt, her youngest brother, spoke up. “We ain’t talkin to you.”

“Excuse me boy? I outta kick your good-for-nothin a-” Annie had taken a step forward, her fingers curling into fists, but Elvis grabbed onto her bicep to hold her back.

“I’m just visitin. I’m a friend and thought ya sister’d enjoy some flowers to brighten up the place. I’m Elvis. Nice to meet y’all,” he said, sticking his hand out toward Blake.

To Annie’s surprise, Blake had taken Elvis’ hand and shaken it. She could only watch in shock as Elvis hit it off with her brothers, having a full-on conversation with all four of them. Even Cash, the most difficult to please middle brother, seemed interested in what Elvis had to say. After a few moments of male bonding time, Annie knocked her fists on the wooden sideboard of the house.

“Still here, fellas. If y’all're gonna stand here in this heat all day and chit chat like you’re at a momma’s book club, I’ll just be on my way.”

She turned to go inside, but Blake’s voice stopped her.

“Hold on a damn minute, Annie. You ain’t gettin outta your work that easy. Cash went to the store but we can’t afford no meat. So ya gonna hafta get us more polk salad. I guess your fella here, nice as he is, is gonna hafta get lost.”

Before Annie had the chance to agree, Elvis spoke again.

“I can help. I ain’t afraid uh hard work,” Elvis says with a smile and a shrug.

None of the Landrys seemed to know what to do for a moment. The way Elvis was dressed, the way he smelled, the way he wore his hair. None of it suggested that he was familiar with the boondocks of southern Louisiana nor farm work. But there he stood, offering his services freely. He threw a wink at Annie when her brothers agreed to let him stay and help her harvest their dinner.

~ ~ ~

As snapshots of memory flash through Annie’s brain, she feels a small smile creeping into her cheeks. He’d looked such a fool, standing there so enthusiastically ready to help. It was endearing and Annie has never forgotten it. She’s suddenly overcome with a feeling of longing, yearning to know him better. It punctures her heart and soul.

“Down in Louisiana, lived a girl that I swear to the world, made the alligators look tame. Polk salad Annie. Gators got ya granny. Errebody said it was a shame cause her momma was a-workin’ on the chain gang.”

When the words “polk salad Annie” leave Elvis’ lips, Annie begins to feel hot and sick to her stomach. She could have pretended that it was another Annie, some other poor girl he’d picked up and put down just as quickly on his trips around the country. But everything he’s said…about her family. It's her, without a doubt. She is polk salad Annie.

She feels the blood draining from her face and has the intense urge to get up and leave as quickly as possible. Food poisoning…she could tell the girls she’s not feeling well, that it’s probably food poisoning from the hotel catering. As much as she doesn’t want to put a damper on Jessie’s bachelorette party, when the words fly out of Elvis’ mouth again, she feels physically ill to her stomach. The sensation is so sickeningly strong that it moves her to lean toward Leigh Anne.

“I hafta go. I’m sorry, tell Jessie I’m really sorry. I-I don’t know what’s happenin but I think Imma be sick,” Annie stammers.

Annie stands up, lightheaded immediately. She wavers back and forth for a moment, curling her fingers around the back of the booth for stability before regaining her balance. She hears Leigh Anne’s blurred voice as she asks if Annie needs help. She ignores Leigh Anne but makes the mistake of glancing back up at the stage as she turns toward the pathway to the exit.

Out of all the people in the audience, somehow Elvis’ eyes land directly on hers. She feels crazy for thinking it, but she swears he recognizes her. All of her remaining doubt dissolves as she watches what he does next. He smirks, winks, and sings the next lines of the song without tearing his eyes away from hers.

“A mean, vicious, straight razor-totin woman,” he growls into the microphone and Annie freezes in her tracks. “Lord have mercy.”

As he sings the words, Annie feels her eyebrows unwillingly quirk up in agreement. She notes how sweaty he is, how dark his hair looks as it shines with the sweat droplets, how bright blue his shining eyes are. It all comes together to make him utterly irresistible. One half of her brain encourages her to move forward. Go upstairs, escape this trap that he’s holding her in. But the other half is too commanding. It easily overpowers her mind and she plops back into her seat. Leigh Anne leans over to check on her but Annie doesn’t hear a thing. Annie is completely unable to tear her eyes from the stage and just nods with an open mouth as she tracks Elvis’ every movement onstage.

He remembers her. He actually remembers her so well that he’s written an entire song about her. She wonders momentarily if the other girls realize he’s singing about her but then remembers that she usually refuses to reveal her past unless it’s absolutely necessary. And it rarely is. Her family's past isn’t something she particularly enjoys talking about.

Everybody said it was a shame cause her momma was a-workin on the chain gang.

~ ~ ~

It was just after they’d left the house to go hunting for polk salad. They were walking through the woods behind the house to a spot a few miles away. The truck patch, where Annie knew there was always polk salad enough to pick. Their walk was silent at first, Annie too enraged and embarrassed to say anything. At the time, Annie had thought that Elvis probably didn’t know how to talk to a girl like her, a rough and tough farm girl from the deep south. But he finally spoke.

“You didn’t want me to come here cause you were embarrassed, weren’t ya?” he’d asked in that charming southern drawl.

Annie hadn’t responded at first, keeping her gaze firmly on the ground below her as she walked, trampling over sticks and stepping over stocks of grass and weeds. She’d never minded getting dirty and lived in a pretty consistent state of dirtiness since most of her life required her to do chores outside of the house.

“Ya know I grew up in Tupelo, Mississippi when I’s younger," he said. Annie’s head snapped up and she tilted it to get a better look at him. She let out a little chuckle. “That surprise ya?”

“Well…you just don’t look like nobody who grew up down here. In the slums, y’know.”

Annie suddenly felt very guilty for judging him. She hadn’t meant to make him feel alienated. She decided to keep her mouth closed but he continued anyway.

“Yeah we was poorer ‘en dirt back then. My daddy got sent to jail, so momma and I were on our own. We had to move out to a housin project. Momma didn’t always like it there but we did aright.”

Annie felt a pang of pain. If anyone could understand living in poverty it was her, but her ears locked onto something specific he’d said.

“Ya daddy went to jail?” she asked, speaking before she allowed herself to think through her actions.

“Yep. Cashed a bad check is all. He didn’t even do nothin bad. He was just tryna provide for us, ya know. Do his best,” Elvis said and cleared his throat.

A few moments of silence passed as Annie gathered the courage to say what she needed to share.

“My momma went to jail, too. She’s in there now, actually.”

“Yeah?”

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Elvis tilt his head to glance at her. She nodded.

“Yeah. Stole bread from a grocery store. She was just…tryna provide for us, too, I guess,” Annie responded with a gulp.

She hadn’t told anyone about that. Everyone in town pretty much already knew but she didn’t care to educate anyone else about her family history. Annie’s mother had been in prison for several years now and Annie visited every once in while but she didn’t like it there. The prison was dank and scary. She was uncomfortable seeing her mother there, skinny and pale, like a ghost of her former self. It broke Annie’s heart.

~ ~ ~

Annie feels tears gathering in her eyes but angrily refuses to let them fall, sucking a breath in through her teeth. Her mother had died in that prison, a few years ago. And it was all for stealing a loaf of bread and some milk to feed her starving children. Annie’s jaw clenches as she pushes her emotions deeper down into her stomach. Her eyes fall onto the tablecloth as she listens to Elvis sing.

“Erryday before supper time, she’d go down by the truck patch and pick her a mess uh polk salad, carry it home in a tow sack.”

~ ~ ~

The tow sack had been the closest thing to a purse Annie owned. While all the pretty ladies in town had blue purses or black ones or red ones made of leather and denim and reptile skin, Annie had a burlap sack. Sometimes those old sacks became a part of the dresses she wore to school, matching all the other little girls who wore old pillowcases and chicken feed bags as clothes.

“But ya know it wadn’t all that bad,” Elvis had continued cheerily. “Ya know my favorite thing bout livin down there in Tupelo?”

Annie shook her head as they finally reached the truck patch. She fluffed open the tow sack and laid it on the ground, dropping to her knees on the soft soil. Elvis followed her lead as he explained.

“I discovered gospel music. Y’ever heard gospel?”

“Course I have. Momma was a Baptist,” Annie replied with a small smirk which Elvis returned. “I heard plenty of gospel as a child. I seen it touch the soul of the singers.”

“Yeah!” Elvis replied enthusiastically, a wide grin creasing his cheeks into dimples.

Annie felt heat creeping into her neck and ears, adding to the already stifling temperature of the southern summer day. Annie reached toward the patch, wrapping her fingers around the stem of the polk salad plant and yanking it harshly out of the soil. It didn’t take much effort from her since she’d been practicing for so long. Annie was strong. She’d always been strong. Elvis joined her, ripping the roots out as he talked about his love for gospel music. Annie smiled. It had been a long time since she’d heard someone talk so sweetly about something they love. All her brothers talked about was beer, trucks, and guns. They probably couldn’t tell gospel music from classical.

She could see the sparkle in his eyes as he talked. At one point while they were pulling plants, their fingers reached for the same stalk. They both froze, their fingers overlapping on the stem. Just as Annie was about to jerk her hand back, Elvis wrapped his calloused fingers around hers and squeezed her fingers. She glanced up at him and he smiled. His eyes flicked down to her lips and she felt her breath hitch in her chest. He leaned forward ever so slightly but her hands flew to his chest to push him away. Her heart was slamming against her chest, pounding in her ears.

“Quit that,” she said. “I ain’t got time for no foolin round. I gotta family to feed.”

Even though she snapped at him, she didn’t mean a word of it. She felt a smile threatening to curl her lips up into a big grin and she was powerless to stop it. They picked a few more stalks of polk salad and then started back on the long trek to the house.

Her daddy was a lazy and no-count. Claimed he had a bad back. All her brothers were fit for was stealin watermelons out of my truck patch.

“What bout the rest of ya family?” Elvis asked. “You got a helluva lotta brothers.”

“Yeah,” Annie laughed. “Blake, Cash, and Wyatt. In that order. I’m the youngest so they always been extra protective of me. I don’t mind it none. They’ve protected me more than once against men in bars or diners.”

She tried to readjust her grip on the tow sack but it suddenly slipped from her grasp. Elvis had taken hold of it and he carried it with ease as they walked. Annie’s eyes traced down his flexed biceps and she noticed a thin line of sweat glistening along his hairline. She reached up with the sleeve of her dress to wipe her own sweat away. His cheeks were flushed red with the heat.

To her surprise, her free hands didn’t stay that way for long. Within a matter of moments, Elvis had intertwined his fingers into hers. At first, her instinct was to pull away, but his grip was too tight and she was glad it had stopped her. She settled into his hand. His palm was hot and sticky with sweat but she didn’t much care.

“I had a brother, too. He died when he was just a baby.

“Are you tellin me that we coulda had two Presleys runnin round down here?” Annie joked, raising an eyebrow. Elvis chuckled and nodded.

“Jesse was his name, after my grandfather.”

Annie glanced over at Elvis to see his eyes glimmering in the orange light of the setting sun. He was tearing up. Annie squeezed his fingers tightly.

“Ya know my best friend’s name is Jessie. Maybe God thought it’d be too powerful for the world to have two Presleys. So he put Jesse’s soul into my friend.”

Annie saw the corner of Elvis’ mouth twitch up into a small grin and she took a side step to be closer to him.

“Tell me bout ya brothers. What’re they like?”

Annie sighed, preparing herself to elaborate on the complicated relationships she shared with her brothers.

“Well Blake, the oldest, is a hothead. And an ass. He’s always been a troublemaker. He’s always lookin for a fight and finds em just bout every weekend at the bars. He’s been in and outta jail all his life. Cash, the middle one, is real smart. He likes to read and do all that stuff. We can’t afford those books at the store with the hard covers, so he pretty much just reads the same three books over and over again. Wyatt don’t do much other than follow at the heels of my older brothers. He can run real fast, though, and he almost joined the track team at school, but daddy won’t let ‘im. Said it wadn’t a real sport, that anybody can run. They get into trouble a lot. Just last week they got their asses handed to em by the police after they stole a buncha watermelons from our neighbor’s truck patch. I keep on tellin em to behave but they never listen. Dumbasses. They ain’t good for shit. They could do so much more but…Blake dropped out to work, Cash can’t get enough time to do his studies right, and Wyatt’s just lost. He didn’t really know momma none before she went to prison.”

“Well what about ya daddy?” Elvis asked as they approached the back steps of the porch.

Annie shot him a look as she swung the door open. She led him into the small ranch toward the minuscule living room. She folded her arms over her chest and nodded her head at her father.

“That’s my daddy.”

Elvis just nodded, saying nothing. Bertie Landry was an alcoholic, had been for years, ever since Annie’s mother went to prison. Bertie used to work at the oil plant and Annie had barely seen him then. But ever since his alcohol problem, he had gotten fired and didn’t do much of anything those days. In that moment, Annie stared at him in utter contempt. He was disgusting. He had become fat and round. His five o clock shadow was clocking in at more like eight o clock. His wife beater tank top was stained with beer, sweat, vomit, and Annie honestly didn’t want to know what else. He was asleep in a chair, his mouth open with drool leaking down his chin.

At that time, Bertie was a janitor at some motel in town but he hardly worked, claiming he had a bad back which made standing for long hours difficult. Since he didn’t have any education, manual labor was Bertie’s only option. But Annie knew he was full of shit, lazy, and pathetic. If he was capable of getting drunk off his ass every weekend, he could stand for a few hours a day to mop some floors. Annie shook herself back to reality.

“Come on into the kitchen. We’ll get the polk salad started. And you,” Annie poked her pointed finger into Elvis’ chest. “get to help.”

She pulled on his fingers, dragging him into the kitchen.

~ ~ ~

Annie clenches her jaw, the anger associated with those memories flooding through her body. Her eyes track Elvis’ figure as he moves around onstage like a beautiful maniac. Annie lets out a laugh when Elvis utters his next lines.

Gators got your granny.

~ ~ ~

While it sounded like a line out of a comedy show, it was true. They were in the kitchen, cooking the polk salad when she’d told him.

Annie was explaining the process for cooking the plant as she and Elvis chopped the shoots and dropped them into the boiling water on the stove.

“And then we boil it, cuz if we don’t it’ll kill ya.”

“What?”

“Polk salad is toxic if it ain’t cooked right.”

“Why the hell would ya eat it if it’s poisonous?” Elvis asked, shaking his head with wide eyes. Annie laughed out loud.

“We got a lotta dangerous stuff down here in Lousiana,” Annie responded, placing the lids over the bubbling pots. “Just last week we had a gator runnin loose over by the pond. He ate a few of the neighbors chickens fore they could stop 'im.”

“Jesus. You ever seen a gator?”

“Nah. But my granny had. She actually…well, she were killed by a gator.”

“She was what?” Elvis’ hand slipped off the edge of the table and Annie looked at him with raised eyebrows.

Suddenly, Elvis burst into laughter, a deep hearty laugh that shook his shoulders and chest violently. Despite herself, Annie couldn’t help but smile and release a few quiet chuckles herself.

“Elvis Presley, that ain't very kind to laugh at somebody’s granny dyin. It was very traumatic you know! She was down by the lake pickin some flowers and it just shot right outta the water and snatched her. They found her a few days later or…what was left of her, anyway.”

Elvis’ laughs had died down to just a twinkling smile. Annie shook her head and reached out to playfully punch his arm. His fingers grabbed hold of Annie’s wrists, curling around them gently. He absentmindedly rubbed his thumb against her soft skin.

"Eh, I'm givin ya a hard time," Annie said between heaved breaths. Her heart was thudding. "I didn't even know her. Met her once I think before she got eaten."

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to laugh like that I just…it just sounds made up,” he responded, tilting his head to look at her sweetly.

Their eyes met and, for a moment, it seemed like the world had stopped. Annie looked at Elvis and Elvis looked at Annie. Annie felt heat crawling up into her neck and ears and averted her eyes, biting her lip to prevent her coy smile from spreading. Elvis’ fingers trailed along the skin on her jaw, gently turning her face so that she was forced to look at him. She gazed up at him through her doe eyes, waiting with bated breath to see what he would do next. His eyes flicked down to her lips for a quick second and the next thing Annie knew, he was pressing his soft pink lips down onto hers.

She kissed him back immediately, her hands gently resting on his chest as his lips moved against hers slowly and deeply. His other hand slid around her waist and onto the small of her back, pulling her body closer to his. As she stepped forward, her hands slid up onto his shoulders and then wound around his neck. Their bodies were pressed tightly together and Elvis walked Annie backward until she gently hit the wall in the kitchen. Elvis tilted his head to access Annie’s mouth better and she accidentally sighed happily into the kiss as she tangled her fingers into his greasy black hair. Elvis’ weight leaned against Annie and she giggled into the kiss before placing her hands back on his chest and pushing him backward.

He stumbled back, surprised by her force, and their lips broke apart. They were separated only for a moment before Annie wrapped her fingers around his lace shirt and harshly pulled him back to her. His hand moved to caress her head and neck, supporting most of the area with just his fingers. This time, it was Annie who backed him up and they stumbled through the tiny kitchen together until Elvis’ legs bumped loudly against the tiny wooden square table. The table's legs were uneven which meant that it rocked back and forth with the pressure of Elvis’ weight, making a click-clacking sound on the (also uneven) wooden floor. Annie pulled away from Elvis’ lips when she heard her father snort awake in the other room.

“What the hell’s goin on in there?” he shouted brusquely.

“Nothin!" Annie yelled back. "Ain’t nunna ya business, dead beat.”

Annie shook her head and bit her lip, running her hands down Elvis’ chest again. He laughed nervously and tucked a disobedient strand of hair behind Annie’s ear.

~ ~ ~

As the song winds down, Annie finds herself staring across the floor at Elvis with furrowed eyebrows.

He left Louisiana the next day but not before he’d taken Annie for a bite to eat at the diner in town. He promised he would visit and that when he made enough money, he’d come back and help get her out of that shit town. He promised he’d write. He had written for a while and she always answered. But the truth of the matter was that they both knew, when he left that day, they would likely never see each other again. He promised he’d take her out for a night on the town, a dinner at a nice restaurant, and a new dress without rips or tears or patches.

But after he left, Annie took on yet another job at the diner to help support the family and had been too busy with her own life to manage visiting Elvis. Not to mention she never knew where he was since he seemed to be traveling all the time. And Elvis was even busier than Annie.

Annie’s eyes snap up at the sight of something bright white and blue approaching the table. She tracks Elvis’ figure with raised eyebrows as he wades into the crowd, a smirk plastered on his sweaty face. As he makes his way through the walkways, he's swarmed by groups of women, young and old, trying to get his attention. Every once in a while, he grabs a woman by the face and presses his lips to hers. While Annie is surprised and maybe a little jealous, she desperately hopes he won't notice her there. She doesn't want to be chased around by the paparazzi because she was kissed by Elvis Presley one time.

But her hopes are utterly dashed when, after he’d kissed another fan, his eyes shift and land on hers. Directly on hers. Annie's breath catches in her throat as she stares back at the man whom she might have learned to love had they gotten the chance to try all those years ago. He comes straight for her, walking quickly and confidently without breaking eye contact. Annie is incapable of doing anything other than sitting still and watching along with the rest of the audience. While several girls desperately attempt to get Elvis' attention, he ignores them completely, locked in on his target.

Annie raises herself to standing and nervously pulls at her fingers. He smirks as he approaches her, immediately reaching for her face and placing his palms on her cheeks. His hands are sweaty, very hot, and they feel soothing on her nervously frozen skin. Elvis pulls Annie's face to his and presses his lips against her. Her eyes close instinctually and she kisses him back the best that she can while being still frozen with shock.

When she pulls back, she feels his hands slip into hers momentarily before he lifts her fingers up to his lips. Keeping his eyes firmly trained on Annie’s, he gives her knuckles a soft kiss and then releases them. When she pulls her hand back, she feels something in her palm and realizes that he's slipped something into her hand. She waits a moment, just long enough for him to walk back down the stairs toward the stage and draw attention away from her before she reads the contents of the note.

It asks her to come backstage after the show.

As she glances up to see the golden curtains dropping down to shield Elvis’ figure from the crowd, she realizes the end of the show is right now. Annie's friends excitedly ask her how she feels being chosen by the Elvis Presley, how she feels being kissed by Elvis. But Annie barely hears them, too busy trying to decide what to do. It would be all too easy just to ignore it, act like it never happened. Go back to her normal life in Tennessee, where she’s doing just fine now on her own.

But she knows in her heart that she just can't do that. And so she turns to her friends.

“I…I’m really sorry bout this, Jessie, but Elvis gave this to me when he kissed me and I…” Leigh Anne snatches it from Annie's palm. After her eyes have quickly scanned it, her mouth drops open. She playfully shoves Annie with a big toothy grin.

“Oh hell no, you’re going backstage. Nonnegotiable.”

“Honey go!!" Jessie joins in, one eye closed as she gently massages her temple. "Do your thing and don’t worry about us! I have a killer headache already, so I honestly think I’ll just hit the hay anyway,”

Annie laughs and thanks her friends, giving them all a quick hug before jumping up and trying to wade her way through the crowd of people leaving the theater to flood back into the casino. She awkwardly approaches the man guarding the door to the side of the stage. He is absolutely huge, big and buff. He looks incredibly mean, like an Italian mobster or something. She nervously walks up one step and leans over awkwardly to hand the note to the man.

“Hi. Elvis gave this to me,” she says with a shrug. “I don’t really know what I-”

“Go on in,” he responds, pushing the door open with ease and standing to the side so Annie can fit through. “He should be expecting you.”

She nods and walks through the doorway, folding her arms over her chest with nervousness as she steps around the staff and crew toward the dressing room. Another man, very similar in appearance to the first guard, is standing guard outside the door. Annie approaches him with a shrug.

“Name,” he says curtly and gruffly.

“Annie Landry.”

The man reaches behind him to wrap his knuckles on the door. "A muffled 'yeah' sounds from inside the room and the security guard shouts back.

“Annie Landry to see you, Mr. Presley.”

Annie hears a muffled response and, thus, the second door is opened for her. She gulps and steps inside, dropping her eyes until she's found enough courage to raise them and see him. He's already stripped out of his jumpsuit and is wearing an expensive-looking red and black robe with the letters EP sewn in fanciful script onto the lapel. She freezes when he glances at her. He runs his fingers through his sweaty, wet black hair.

“God damn,” he says quietly when he finally sees her.

His eyes trail up and down her body, and he leans on his back foot to observe her. She feels embarrassed and shoots him the most charming smile she can muster.

“I knew it was you," he continues. "I could tell by ya eyes. Damn it’s good to see ya, Annie.”

She laughs breathlessly at the sound of his voice forming the letters of her name. She nervously tucks a strand of hair behind her ear and takes a step further into the room. Elvis throws a pillow onto the ground and gestures at a small red velvet loveseat.

“Here, take a seat. Let’s talk. It’s been what…ten years since I saw ya last,” he says, rummaging around to clean up the place a little.

His efforts aren't very successful considering there are clothes and accessories strewn everywhere, all over the floor and on top of the furniture.

“Close to it,” Annie replies, taking a seat across from Elvis on the loveseat.

They both turn to face each other and Annie can't stop the smile that spreads across her face as his attention lands fully on her. Silence settles between them before she speaks up again.

“So…what’s been goin' on with ya, mister big-shot rockstar?” she jokes, offering a gentle chuckle.

He smiles handsomely, those little dimples forming by the corners of his lips.

“Well I, uh, obviously made it in the music business,” he says with a shrug. “I, uh…went to Germany for a while. Did some movies. Did a television special. Now I’m here, performin for a real audience again.”

Annie nods, waiting for him to prompt her with the same question. Instead, he continues.

“Oh I, uh, got married too, actually."

Annie’s heart drops to her feet.

“Oh? Congratulations!” Annie says, nodding through the pain that threatens her entire being.

“Thank ya, but I don’t know that it really applies no more seein as I also got divorced earlier this year."

He chuckles nervously and Annie presses her lips together to prevent the smile from returning. As mean as it sounds, Annie isn't sorry to hear that. At all.

“Oh…god I’m sorry then.”

Silence settles once again and Annie opens her mouth to say something before shutting it. They are both different people, she realizes. Both on their own life trajectories. Finally, thank god, Elvis speaks up again.

“You, uh…getting married yaself I see,” Elvis says, gesturing to the sash that Annie has forgotten she's wearing.

“Oh!” she shouts, perhaps a little too loudly, ripping the sash over her head as she feels heat creeping into her cheeks. She smiles nervously “No! I, uh…just a bridesmaid. The bride was a lil tipsy and somehow I wound up wearin this. But, uh…no. No fiancé here. No partner here, actually.”

“Oh, damn,” Elvis replies with an awkward chuckle as he reached up to itch the back of his neck. "There...really ain't nobody snatched ya up yet?"

Annie shakes her head as another bout of awkward silence descends upon them. Annie takes it as an excuse to look him over, up close this time. Annie’s eyes immediately lock onto his bicep. He still looks pretty strong, maybe a little bigger than he was when she’d known him down in Louisiana. But he's still fit and he obviously still moves well from what she'd seen onstage. Speaking of onstage…

“So you wrote,” she pauses to heave a small whispered laugh, “a whole damn song bout me pickin polk salad?”

Elvis’ eyes meet hers and he bursts out in hearty laughter, his sea blue eyes sparkling under the warm lights of the dressing room. Annie shakes her head and playfully punches him in the arm.

“You do realize that I did other things, right? Like harvestin polk salad wadn't my entire existence back then? And hey, what the hell? Didja really have to include that a gator ate my grandmother?”

Elvis just laughs harder, showing no signs of remorse as his hand grips his knee.

“I’m sorry but it was just too damn funny, Annie. And it rhymed, I couldn't pass that up,” he chokes out between laughs.

Annie shakes her head disapprovingly but stares at him lovingly. Once their laughs have ceased Elvis’ face turns serious and he reaches out to take her hand. His fingers flex and relax, hesitating to take ahold of her fingers. But she stretches them out, intertwining them in his.

“I…can’t believe ya remembered all that,” Annie says, daring to gaze back up into his eyes. “Bout me and my family, I mean. You know as ya were singin I was thinkin bout it all. That day when you visited me. Do you remember?”

“Course I do. You made me eat that god awful polk salad with the carrots. Tasted like some kinda delicacy for a bunch of rabbits,” he responds and feigns a shiver.

“Don’t remind me," Annie huffs jokingly. "I member how much ya hated the taste of that. But it’s green, Elvis. What'd ya expect it to taste like? Chocolate?”

They both chuckle in unison.

“I think bout that all the time,” he responds, squeezing onto her fingers. “Sometimes when I’m lonely, I like to go back to that day. I…”

He falters but Annie squeezes his hands, encouraging him to continue. She has to know what he wants to say. She needs to know. Her eyes are trained on his, holding his gaze.

“I sorta always wished we’d had more time. That we’d made it work or at least tried to cause…I dunno maybe I’m off my rocker here but….I always felt like maybe somethin coulda happened tween us, maybe,” he finishes, glancing up into Annie’s eyes with a hopeful glaze over his own eyes.

“I kinda wish that, too.”

Annie heaves exactly one breath before Elvis leans in to capture her lips. She doesn't move, afraid that she might ruin the moment somehow. When his lips finally connect with hers, she releases a contented sigh and closes her eyes, leaning her head forward into him. His lips are plump, soft, and warm, perfectly capturing her own as he pulls her top lip between his. Her hand gently rests on his thigh as his winds around her neck to pull her face deeper into his own. He pulls back for a moment and she flutters her eyes open to see him smirking at her. She returns the expression but his face turns serious again and he leans back in, pressing his lips firmly against hers.

His fingers grip the back of her neck and she moans quietly in response. As his lips open again for another kiss, she takes hold of his bottom lip between her teeth and pulls it out before releasing it. Elvis' eyes flick down to Annie's lips and back up to her eyes. She stares back mischievously.

“Ya know I meant it when I said you're a mean, straight razor-totin woman,” he says and Annie laughs loudly.

Silence settles as they both return to the reality of the moment.

“Well, it’s gettin late and I got maid of honor duties to get to fore the big day tomorrow,” she moves to get up but Elvis’ hands are firmly attached to her waist. She plops back down on the couch with a giggle. “Elvis, I gotta go. Seriously.”

"What if I just don't letcha?"

Annie laughs and then glares at him with a quirked eyebrow.

“I’ll make ya. And you don’t wanna challenge me. You know that’s a fight you're gonna lose, sir.”

Elvis laughs, leaning over to press one last kiss to the tender spot between Annie's ear and jaw.

“Aright fine. Go do ya maid of honor thing.”

He waves his hand dismissively and Annie giggles. She runs a hand over his soft cheek before ripping herself away from his grasp. As his hands slide off her hips, she catches one palm in her fingers and lets it gracefully drag from her hand. She turns, walking toward the door but pauses with her fingers on the handle.

“You know, I’ll be round for a few days with the weddin and all. So, um…you should come see me. Maybe you can show me round Vegas and all that. We could go for that dinner we never got to.”

Elvis’ eyes light up and he smiles warmly with a nod.

“I’d like that very much, my lil Polk Salad Annie."

─────•~❉᯽❉~•─────

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