#it just feels freeing to reblog n tag 'me :)'...... so cool......... | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

russellsppttemplates · 3 months

Text

My person (Charles Leclerc)

Your brother's best friend is sure you were made for eachother

Note: english is not my first language. Most times I read a brother's best friend trope, it's usually the reader going after the boy, so I felt like doing things a little bit different (also, my brain got a bit jumbled because I was wondering about the perspective, and in the end I went with reader being Joris' twin). Also, I always feel a little bit of impostor's syndrome whenever I post these tropes for which I've read many great pieces about it, and I never know if my ones are good enough to be posted but we're going with it

Thank you so much to everyone who likes and reblogs, your feedback is appreciated 🤍 and I'm taking requests so if you have any ideas or concepts you want to share, feel free to do so as I'll try to get to them the best I can!

my masterlist

Tag list: @myloverjk-blog

Most people thought having a twin brother was bitter sweet because while you had to share everything since the womb, you had a brother so there came a time where you wanted to have different toys, different rooms and different styles.

Different friends, however, was never a question. Even with different interests, you and Joris often came as a duo, so both of your friend groups were pretty close.

"We're going to Charles' apartment to watch the football game, are you joining us?", Joris asked, throwing himself on your sofa and partially occupying your personal space, "Marta is going to be over and I think she's taking Chiara with her, too".

You don't remember a time where Charles wasn't in your life. Your brother knew him since they were in kindergarten and so there wasn't a memory where he wasn't involved. Which brought you to the last time you were with him, just a week before.

Charles spent the afternoon with Joris at your brother's apartment, wanting to relax and game for the rest of the day.

"It's Y/N", Charles said as he gave Joris his ringing phone, your caller ID prompting him to pick the calk up right away, "can you come and get me, please?", he heard you faintly as Joris got up straight away, listening to whatever you were telling as he put on his trainers and jacket.

"Y/N needs me to pick her up from the café - turns out her date thought she wouldn't mind going home on her own", Joris rolled his eyes, "it will be quick, you're good on your own here?", he checked with Charles, "sure", the driver assured, unpausing the game and carrying on.

Another date and another disappointment for you, Charles thought. While you weren't as close as his brother was to him, he still knew about your life as much as your other friends, and lately you had been looking for someone, your person, you claimed. Luck had yet to join your search as every date you went on seemed to go between bad and awful.

If he had the courage to come clean about his feelings, maybe things would be different. For a while, yes, you were Joris' twin sister and that was it. You were a cool girl and he didn't mind spending time with you or having your hang out with their group, but things changed when you went to university.

Maybe it was your glow up, although you never needed one to catch his eye in the first place, but year after year, you grew to exude confidence, your natural beauty enhanced as you turned into a charming, caring and kind young woman.

Since he didn't want to ruin the bond you had, he watched it all happen from the sidelines. How happy you sounded whenever you had a date later in the week, whenever a cute guy came up to you in the club and how you squealed "I think this one might be the one!" as you excused yourself and declined dinner invitations from the group for a date.

He heard the door open and then close, footsteps approaching the living room as he paused the game just in time for you to sit on the sofa, "what's up, Leclerc?", you nudged his shoulder.

"I'm good, how are you?", he quesioned, "I guess that one isn't the love of your life either?", he semi joked.

"He was certifiable, at the very least", you began as the boys chuckled, "Hey! I'm qualified to make such appreciation! He kept talking about himself and he was borderline sexist, but then he said I would be fine going home on my own? I don't know, it was a mess and I can't believe I even experienced that - I'm going to pretend it was a fever dream", you shrugged your shoulders, "I was expecting to spend the afternoon with him - thank Goodness I didn't, - and the construction work at my place is still going so I don't have anywhere to go, I'm sorry if I'm crashing your afternoon", you gulped.

"It's fine, it's nice having company other than us two playing and screaming at eachother", Charles smiled as Joris shrugged his shoulders, "you're already staying her until the building work is done", you brother offered.

"I wasn't asking you, silly; you're my twin, dealing with me it's something that comes with the job", you winked.

When it came to dinner time, the three of you decided to have take out, your brother calling the restaurant and scheduling a time for him to pick it up, "I'm going to shower", you said as you got up from the sofa, heading to the guest room you were staying in.

By the time you got out, your heard Joris shout that he was leaving while you put on some comfy clothes for the evening in. When you went to the balcony so your towels could air dry for a bit, you sat in the padded chair, looking out to the sunset.

He would come, you thought. It wasn't particularly a manifestation or a "throw it at the universe" kind of thing, but rather something to reassure yourself. You were worthy of the standards you set for yourself and there was someone out there for you, and he would come.

"Hey", Charles stepped into the balcony, coming to sit in the chair next to yours, "a cent for your thoughts?", he smiled softly, the warm yellow and orange light hitting his eyes in a glowy hue.

"Do you believe that the right person for you is out there?", you shot softly.

"I know she is", Charles gulped, "Oh, confident!", you giggled softly, "but it's nice, better than being sulky like me".

"I'm not sure how much better it is. I know she is out there, but it's a little more complicated than just going up to her and tell her that", he played with hia thumbs.

"So you're chickening out?", you quirked your eyebrow, partly teasing him but genuinely curious about it. You didn't have enough fingers to count how many girls tried to approach you and befriend you with the only goal of getting into a friendship circle that would lead them to Charles, and he could probably chat up anyone he wanted, so it was hard for you to understand how he didn't have the love of his life with him yet.

"It's not chickening out if you think it might cause some issues with your friends, I think. I'm being prudent, that's all", Charles tried, wanting to take the opportunity to try and see where you stood. Girls were usually sharper than guys, so you said many times, maybe you'd take the hint.

"If I knew who the love of my life was, I would go to him and never look back. I know it sounds silly, but I wouldn't want to be away from him a second longer, it would be quite shitty if he was in a relationship", you mused, "but if we were really meant to be together - if it was a both ways kind of thing - he would know it, right? Goodness, sound a bit like a romantic sop, don't I?", you chuckled, "but I would fight for him, for us".

Charles felt inspired before he felt a little angry. Here you here saying you would fight until you found your person when he was right there. If it really worked as a both ways thing, you'd have to know and feel the person you kept looking for was him. He broke into a full belly laugh as he stated at you. No make-up, hair sitting in its natural wave and comfy clothes, you never looked so beautiful to him.

"Would you let me fight for us, too?", he mused quietly but loud enough for you to hear, "would you want me to do that?".

Giggling at him, you could only shake your head at his words, "I know this sound silly - Joris teases me enough about it enough", you groaned as your hands covered your face.

"I'm not joking or teasing", Charles clarified, turning to face you on the chair, "All I want is for you to look at me the way you look at them", Charles stated, "whenever you talk about your dates before you go on them, you're so hopeful that that guy will be the one, you look forward to it like it will be that time, and you never looked at me that way when I constantly make efforts to hung the stars and the moon for you and stand there hoping they get to you".

His confession took you off guard. Charles just admitted he liked you, in a way with words that was more elaborate than what any of your dates had ever told you combined.

"I thought you were being nice?! Was this some sort of plan?!", you quesioned immediately. He had been around you your whole life, you surely would've noticed it, wouldn't you?

Charles chuckled in a way you found a smidge belittling, "it wasn't a plan! Y/N, I have not been planning this or doing some strategy, it just happened out of nowhere!", Charles bit back, "like you said, the person for me is out there and she's you!".

The noise from the door pulled both of you out your discussion, your brother's singalong voice announcing he was back with the food.

Dusting your sweatpants, you stepped back inside the living room, shaking off the jitters you had as your brother scrunched up his face, "is everything okay?", he asked.

"Of course, I'm just hungry and you drove like a grandpa here", you bickered back as Charles joined you at the table, "I'll get the cutlery and plates from the kitchen", you mumbled.

The dinner was eaten quietly on your side, Charles and Joris making most of the conversation as you exchanged a few looks with the Formula One driver, your twin brother seemingly obvious as he carried on as usual, "I'm going to bed", you said after helping tidy, "are you sure? We were going to watch something on TV?", Joris asked you.

"I'm getting a headache, so I'll pass, good night boys", you gave them tight lipped smile.

In the bedroom, you changed into your pyjamas and finished your night-time routine and got under the sheets, Charles' words replaying as you looked at the ceiling.

"Y/N? Are you joining us or not? Do you have any plans?", Joris insisted, "you've been weird lately", he pointed out.

"I'll join you, yes, just need to get my hoodie and then I'll be good to go", you scrambled out as your heart beat faster inside your chest.

Joris offered to drive to Charles' apartment, getting there when Riccardo, Marta and little Chiara were alresdy inside with Charles.

"The rest of the group couldn't come, so it's just us", Riccardo said as he noticed your expression, "what a shame, more food for us!", you smirked, sitting next to Marta and playing with the little girl on her lap, "hello, my love, hello!", you cooed in the voice you only had for babies, "look at you so grown up! You get more beautiful everytime I see you", you smiled, tickling her chin softly as she giggled loudly.

"Who did the roast potatoes last time we got together?", Joris stepped back into the living room, "I did", you stated as you grabbed one of the toys on the coffee table, ready to sit down on the floor so you and Chiara could play together.

"Don't sit down!", your brother yelled, "sorry, but you can't sit down - Charles needs help with the potatoes and he doesn't know the recipe like you do", he reasoned as you got up, trying not to show how much you didn't want to be in the same room alone with Charles. Watching football while having dinner with your group of friends was one thing, spending one on one time with Charles after what he said to you the last time was another.

"Hey", you said as you stepped into the kitchen, "Joris said you needed help, what can I do?".

Charles smiled a little, maybe at the irony of your quesion, "I don't know what seasonings to use in these", he said as he showed you the vegetable with the ones he already cut up.

"Okay, do you keep the spices in the same place?", you asked as he nodded, encouraging you to use his kitchen like it was your own.

Opening the cabinets and grabbing what you needed, you started mixing the ingredients and cutting up the ones you needed to, "can you get me the olive oil, please? I can't reach it", you asked and Charles complied, "thank you".

"Is this how this is going to be? Interacting like we haven't known eachother since we were little and like I haven't poured my heart out to you?", Charles said, arms crossed as he rested against the kitchen counter.

"I wasn't counting on you saying all of that, I was so caught off guard that I haven't been able to think about anything else in my off time!", you offered, setting the knife down on the chopping board.

"It's not like people have speeches ready and give of warnings when they're about to confess their feelings for someone... I myself wasn't expecting to do it until the words came out of my mouth", Charles gestured as if he was vomiting, "what do you expect it to be like anyway? People have to warn you they have feelings for you and ask if you want to hear it?! Is that what you want?".

"I want to feel loved, appreciated and valued. I want to be with someone that reminds me that I'm beautiful, that I'm smart and I'm wonderful. I want to share my life with someone who has no trouble with me wanting to have both career goals and family goals, I want someone who supports me as much as a support him, who is willing to do silly things because I enjoy them and who loves me for me, flaws and all", you let out in one go, "That's what I want".

Charles eyebrows climbed on his forehead, "Are you insinuating I can't give you that? Is that why we haven't spoken since that evening at Joris' place?".

"I'm saying you're my brother's best friend, and no matter how much I think you can do it - because you make me feel like that just from being my friend, imagine if we were dating -, I don't want to risk whatever we have, all of us", you gestured to the living room where the rest of the group was.

"Y/N", Charles pleaded, "you don't think I've thought about that? I didn't do it on a whim like you think I did, I've been sitting on this for quite a while, actually", he clarified, "I will respect whatever you decide, okay? But can't just sit and pretend that you don't want this thing between you and me as much as I do, because we could be so good-", he was interrupted as Marta crossed the corner and stepped inside the kitchen, "Charles, can I heat Chiara's soup on the microwave?", she asked with the small tupperware on her hands.

"Sure, here", he guided her as you resumed to seasoning the potatoes, putting them on the tray and then in the oven, "the game is about to start, hurry up!", Joris yelled.

"I'll just wash this, and that too", you took the tupperware's lid as well as the utensils you needed for the dressing.

"I need to cool it down a little, maybe in a bigger bowl", Marta said as Charles helped in getting the bowl from the cupboard as you set the utensils aside to dry, "Merci, Charles, off we go then", she said as she waited for you both to leave and go to the living room so she could follow you.

"Come here, sweet cheeks", you clapped at Chiara, taking her away from your brother's arms and putting her in the highchair so she could eat comfortably, "auntie Y/N is going to give you your delicious soup, yummy yummy", you smiled.

Charles couldn't help but take in the sight, how you made Chiara feel like she was the only person in the world as you smiled and spoke to her, finding a million and one ways to get her to eat the soup in the bowl.

The food was ready by the half-time break, so you all helped with bringing the food to the table, eating it as the team you were supporting ended up winning the game.

"She's knocked out", you pointed out to Riccardo, Chiara asleep in the little makeshift cot you made on the sofa with some pillows and blankets to make sure she was warm and secure.

"We can clean up, you guys go home and take this little princess to sleep in her own bed", Charles smiled, stroking the little girl's cheek softly as he watched her peaceful expression.

"You don't mind?", Marta wondered as the three of you nodded, helping the parents gather their daughter's belongings so they could leave, hoping she wouldn't wake up and make it harder for her to fall back asleep.

"Sweet dreams, petite fleur", you cooed as Marta cuddled Chiara into her chest, squeezing her small hand softly before they walked out of the door.

"These need to go on the dishwasher", you sorted through the plates and checked if they were safe to go on the machine as your brother help you.

"We should probably get going", Joris said, not wanting to overstay your welcome, "do you need anything else, Charles? Otherwise, me and Y/N will leave you to it", he said.

"Actually, me and Charles need to talk, if that's okay", you looked at the driver, catching him by surprise before he nodded in agreement.

Joris didn't dwell too much on it like you thought he would, "so you need me to come and pick you up or...?", he trailed before Charles saved you, "don't worry, I've got her", he stated.

When Charles accompanied your twin brother to the door, he was blunt and honest, "She's my sister, but there could be worse guys than you", Joris offered as Charles narrowed his eyes, "Oh, please, do you think I'm that blind? I've seen the way you look at her and how you always go above and beyond for her - she's just being too stubborn about it to see it, too. Still, if you ever break her heart or cause her any tears of sadness and anger, you're going to wish I didn't know so much about you", he threatened, although it didn't go as planned as they both laughed, "I trust you, there wasn't anyone I would trust like this", he sighed, "you're just lucky you have brothers, otherwise I might've taken revenge on you", he nudged his shoulder.

"I bet Lorenzo would enjoy a cuddle every now and again if you'd like", Charles giggled before he showed his seriousness again, "I just want this to work out between us, I think she's my person, you know?", he mused, realising how cliché and whipped he sounded, "I'll take care of her, you don't need to worry", he assured.

Charles closed the door and walked back to the living room where you sat down on the sofa, legs covered with one of the blankets, "I- thank you for staying back", he smiled, pointing with his eyes to the spot next to you silently asking if he could sit.

You opened the blanket so he could sit next to you and you could both keep warm, "I want to apoligise for not saying anything the last time we spoke, and for how I've handled this", you began, "I'm sorry, Charles", you said earnestly.

"Apology accepted", he nodded, "and did you just stay here to apoligise?", he quesioned.

"I- I thought we could have a date, sort of anyway", you mumbled, "and I could also tell you how I feel about you since it seems I owe you that with what you've told me", you looked into his eyes, "it wasn't that you were ever off bounds or anything like that, I never cared for those supposed rules, but it never occurred to me", you blurted and Charles quirked a brow, "shoot, that's not what I meant, ugh", you grunted as he soothingly rubbed your thigh, "what I meant is I always thought you'd never look at me that way - I'm Joris' twin - so I just took all of the affection I had for you and put it in a friendship feelings and all of the things you did for me, I thought you were just being nice because you're a nice guy", you clarified.

"Does this mean you're letting me treat you like you deserve? Because I plan on making sure you feel and know you're wonderful every single day", he smiled charmingly, confident words contrasting with his shy attempt of lacing your fingers together on his lap.

"How can you be so sure we are eachother's person?", you couldn't help but mumble, even if the butterflies in your stomach were dancing like they hadn't been in a long time, "I just know, and I'll help you see it, too", he smiled, kissing your knuckles before he pulled you to his chest, finding something to watch on the TV.

You both watched reruns of one of your favourite shows, pointing out little details you loved and talking about any topic that came to mind, and once Charles' body warmth and his touches along your arm caught up to your system and lulled you to sleep, your head finding it's spot on his chest as he smiled down at you, your beauty never ceasing to amaze him as he noticed every mole, freckle and scar on your face from up close.

Even if he didn't want to move, and that it wouldn't be the first time he slept on his sofa, he reasoned that he should at least offer you his bed. Softly stroking your cheek, he coaxed you to wake up, "I'm sorry for waking you up, but we can't sleep here", he whispered, kissing the side of your head, "you can sleep in my bed, I'll take the sofa", he offered as you stretched a little bit, removing yourself from his chest.

"If you promise you won't do any funny business, we can sleep in the same bed", you yawned.

"Of course I won't, Y/N! I would never do anything you didn't want to, I-", Charles panicked, not wanting you to think he was trying to take advantage of you.

"I'm only kidding, I know you won't", you assured, arms pulling him to stand up with you as you walked to the bedroom after turning everything off, "I trust you, Charles, completely", you smiled.

To him, it meant the world.

You felt his heart race when your hand landed on his chest, "I need a t-shirt, though, this is not comfy to sleep in", you reasoned as he looked for one on his drawers, "here, you can get ready here while I get ready in the bathroom", he smiled, kissing the top of your head before he stepped inside the ensuite.

After you swapped so you could brush your teeth, you were both undoing the bed, pulling the sheets back over you and having eachother.

"I really want to kiss you right now, but I don't want to cross any boundaries", Charles admitted as your heart raced in your chest, "I'd really like that, you can kiss me if you want", you consented.

Charles leaned to rub your nose in his before kissing your lips softly, allowing you both to revel in the feelings that had been put in labelled boxes at the back of your minds.

Parting your lips to breathe, you cupped Charles' cheek, your palm tickling from his facial hair as your thumb rubbed his skin, "I think you might be right", you mumbled, licking your lips, "about what?", he mused, "about the fact that you'll help me see it too", you smiled.

The next morning, you woke up with Charles looking at you, "Good morning, Y/N", he greeted, "See? I didn't pull any funny business", he wiggled his brows chuckling.

This was a sight you could get used to.

"Good morning", you smiled, "did you sleep well?", you wondered, pulling closer to him now that you were awake.

"I did, did you?", he asked and you nodded, cuddling closer to him and basking in the feeling of just being there.

"We are going to take this as slow as you want", Charles whispered against your forehead, leaving little kisses and pecks on your skin, "but I want you to know I'm all in".

"I'm all in, too", you whispered, "I can't promise you it will be a straight line - or that I won't spiral out every now and again because hey, it's me -, but I feel really good about this, you make me feel really good", you blushed as you kissed between his eyebrows, "having said this, not all of us have the day to do some training and sim racing, and I'm one of them. I have to go home to change and then head to the clinic", you pouted slightly.

"How about I make us some breakfast first, then I'll drop you off?", he suggested, stealing a peck from your lips, "hmm, sounds good", you hummed.

"Were you expecting us to be surprised?", Marta said as she and her family arrived in Charles' yacht, the three of them seeing you and Charles kissing at the table.

Throwing your head back in laughter as Charles walked up to help them inside, you shielded your eyes from the sun with your hand, "at least pretend you are", you joked.

"Oh my Goodness, I never thought you two would become a thing? Does this mean we can finally stop hearing your disgraced love life stories and Charles' complaints about who you went on a date with?", Riccardo belted out, catching the attention from a couple on the yacht next to the one you were sitting on.

"To be fair, that's how I noticed it", Marta began, "Charles didn't complain anymore about how he was alone and that the universe wasn't working on his favour", she smirked, greeting you two.

"We have been keeping it down low just to see how things would go", you blushed at getting caught and steering the conversation elsewhere once Chiara babbled at you, "Oh, baby girl, hello!", you cooed, pulling her into your arms.

"Soon enough you can get one of those, I bet your kid would be very very cute", Riccardo nudged Charles' shoulder, loving that the group now could have a few teasing moments and themes at your expense, all in good fun.

"What a warm welcome!", you heard your brother yell, a fake angry and ironic tone noticeable in his voice, "First, no one is here to greet me with a glass of something to drink or even a helping hand to step in", Joris clarified, "then I'm presented with a conversation about my sister's and my best friends sex life, which I don't want to know about by the way!!", he said as he came up to you, kissing the side of your head, "I'm happy she's happy, and that you're all happy together, but no talking about that, please!".

#charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc fluff #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc fanfic #charles leclerc fic #charles leclerc x you #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #f1 fanfic #f1 fluff

791 notes · View notes

seiwas · 9 months

Text

₊˚⊹。4:59 a.m. | bakugo katsuki

wc: 682 summary: bakugo rises with the sun, and runs. contains: angst, swear word, there are cute moments at the start tho, lots of things are ambiguous and alluded to (you can make what you want out of it!), written with f!reader in mind but i don’t mention any pronouns, reader is shorter than him, aged up to when bakugo is pro. a/n: writing warm-up for bakugo! wanted to explore a side to him that touches on some deep issues (that are not explicitly stated, but hopefully hinted at enough!) and wanted to give a go at angst too!!

comments, tags, and reblogs are greatly appreciated ♡

Bakugo rises with the sun, at the crack of dawn.

He slips out of bed quietly and lifts the arm you have draped over his stomach. You sleep on your side most nights, curled against him with your nose tucked into the crook of his neck, because he smells good. Or something.

He snorts at that, hardly believing it to be true; you both use the same body wash and shampoo.

There’s a small sliver of light—the early morning haze peeking through—draping over the bed, over the pillows and the comforter, highlighting the softest parts of you. It’s routine by now, that without fail, he always tucks you back in; he readjusts your pillow to fall right under your cheek and pulls the comforter back over you until you instinctively snuggle back into it.

His workout clothes are always laid out the night before: a vest with compression leggings and running shorts. So he dresses in it, puts on his training shoes by the door, and almost always, 30 minutes after waking up, goes out and runs.

The sun is barely shining yet, the sky a blend of purple and orange hues; the breeze is cool and Bakugo runs against it, passing by the still-closed bakery he knows he’ll visit later, after, on his way back home to you.

It feels good, getting the sweat out and the adrenaline in.

Step-after-step, breathing out, breathing in.

Running through a waking city, past buildings and parks, a river near the outskirts—there’s a mental clarity that comes with all of it.

To be sane.

For the people.

For the job.

His watch beeps—he just hit a new running pr.

On his way back, there’s an old lady by a fruit stall who always insists on giving fresh seasonal fruits, for being a handsome, young man protecting the peace. Or something.

(Whose peace?)

But he always buys two—of peaches, pears, bananas, anything, because that’s what you always do. One for him, one for you.

“We can’t just take it for free, Katsuki! We should buy something too…”

And when he gets back home, plastic bag full of fruits and your favorite bread on-hand, you greet him with his protein shake and his breakfast half-packed.

You smile, eyes lit up like the morning sun, and you tiptoe, hands reaching to clasp at the back of his neck as he tuts, “‘M sweaty,” but he’s grinning, and you don’t care.

So you kiss him, a small peck—the trademark of spending mornings with you.

He sits with you for a bit, eats the half-plated breakfast you made him as you ask him how his run went, and he grunts, answers with a few words, but that’s how you know it went well.

At the part he hates the most, by the door, half-packed breakfast in his hands, you say goodbye and kiss him again, to wipe the grump off his face. Or something.

It doesn’t work, but he pulls you in for a second one, deeper, with more longing, just so you know what he’s saying.

(I want to stay.)

Every morning, it’s like this.

Until it isn’t.

And when you’re gone, when you leave (when he makes you)—

He still runs.

At the crack of dawn, through a waking city—past the still-closed bakery he’ll visit later, for the bread he knows you love because it tastes like the day he met you. The breeze is cool when he goes past the park where you had your first date, and the sky is a blend of orange and blue by the river where you first said ‘i love you’.

He gets the sweat out and the adrenaline in, but there’s no fucking mental clarity in this.

Step-after-step, he runs, hoping for some way to reach you, for some semblance of you in all these places you’ve gone to.

And it’s all there, but it’s not you.

When he breathes in and breathes out, by the old lady at the fruit stall, she hands him her gift of seasonal fruits and he still buys two.

#bakugo x reader #bnha x reader #katsuki x reader #bakugou x reader #katsuki bakugo x reader #bakugo katsuki x reader #bakugou katsuki x reader #mha x reader #katsuki bakugou x reader #bakugo angst #bnha #katsu #shotorus.writes #writing this as an exercise !!#bakugo x you #bakugo x y/n #katsuki x you #katsuki x y/n

758 notes · View notes

the-witty-pen-name · 11 days

Text

Love is Blind Part 4

Eddie Munson x PlusSize!F!Reader

Word Count: 3k

Warnings: 18+ ONLY MINORS DNI - kissing, smut, vaginal fingering, body worship, praise

Story Warnings: reader has low self-esteem and struggles with self love/acceptance, anxiety/trauma related to bullying, cursing, substance use mention

Summary: In a last ditch effort to evade the normal disappointments of dating, a group of misfits desperate to have someone see who they are on the inside volunteer for the most recent brain chemistry study at Hawkins Lab.

A/N: If I forgot to tag something, please let me know! I'm so sorry for the wait, I hope you enjoy. Please consider reblogging if you like it! Thank you for reading!

Series Masterlist

Final Day

The moment Eddie can finally look at you will be less than ideal. Both of you, hooked up to whatever weird machine while technicians monitor your brain waves or whatever- Eddie really wasn’t paying attention at all to what they were telling him. He couldn’t give less of a shit if he tried as they were explaining the next segment. Once they recorded the initial reactions, you all were free to go. He doesn’t know if he’ll be able to control himself.

He’s sitting in an exam room, with a window looking into another. It seems as though they’ll bring you into the opposite room and he’s feeling slightly deflated that he won’t be able to talk to you right away.

He’s sitting with his legs partially spread apart, resting back on his hands on the exam bed. He’s letting them attach some small patch to the side of his forehead. He's tapping his foot anxiously, and he’s trying his hardest to play it cool and he’s positive he’s failing miserably.

He overthought everything trying to make it back to the lab on time this morning. He couldn’t decide on clothes or his hair or literally anything, down to the way he was going to sit when you walked in. He settled on his usual, it’s not like he had dress clothes anyways. He’s staring intently at the empty exam room across from him, absolutely dying that you aren’t there. He watches as the door opens. Several lab assistants carry in equipment and one pulls the curtain shut. Eddie doesn’t realize he yelled until he sees the assistants in the room stare at him with wide eyes. He quickly apologizes and runs a hand through his hair, trying to calm his nerves.

You feel chills run down your body as they work on getting you set up to the machinery. You keep anxiously staring at the pulled curtain, and you can hardly think straight knowing Eddie is on the other side. It’s no different, you try to tell yourself to calm your nerves. It’s you in one room, Eddie in the other, just like it’s been all week. Except now, you can look, but can’t talk. You feel your palms sweat and you do your best to just take deep breaths to try to calm down how fast your heart is beating.

“So, when we’re ready for observation, we’ll pull the curtain. We’ll be monitoring your brain activity for a minute or so, then we’ll send you on your way,” a woman explains to you, and you nod, understandingly. You sit up straighter, and roll your shoulders back. You can’t let yourself allow any insecurity to seep in and ruin this moment. You try to focus your mind solely on how excited you are to see Eddie. And how in less than a few minutes, you’ll actually be standing in his proximity.

Eddie is practically jumping out of his skin in anticipation. His mouth feels dry and he feels like his entire body is overheating from the stark white lights of the exam room. He taps his fingers on his lap, focusing on a loose thread on the tear of his jeans, when they tell him they’re ready to begin. Nothing can truly put into words how he felt when they began to pull the curtain back.

His breath hitches when he finally is able to look at you. First, he finds your eyes and he can’t stop smiling. He winks at you playfully from the other room and you feel like your body is on fire. He greedily lets his eyes look you up and down, and you see him mouth “Ho-ly shit.” Emphasizing the syllables so you can understand.

He can’t stop staring, desperate to take in all of the details of you like he’s making up for lost time. He was feeling overwhelmed. He bites his lip, raking his eyes over every part of you. He looks completely pained, like he’s being restrained. You can’t help but notice he looks tortured, as his eyes look into yours with such extreme desperation. He feels like he might spontaneously combust if he needs to wait one more minute to touch you.

You’re beyond anything he could’ve imagined. He’s practically drooling, staring at you like a lovesick fool. Fuck anyone, he thinks, who made you think you were anything less the fucking sexiest woman alive.

You’re rendered speechless as you take him in. His hair, his tattoos, the rings… Fuck, he’s so gorgeous. He feels like he might spontaneously combust if he needs to wait one more minute to touch you. You eyes can’t focus, so motivated to just memorize every detail you can commit to memory- like somehow he’s going to be back behind the wall again.

Eddie couldn’t control himself. You saw the way his eyes raked over you and it made you feel warm from a giddy nervousness. He let himself admire every single inch of you that he could see. He felt like it was the shortest couple of minutes he’s ever been subject to, and as the techs finished up, he’s practically jumping out of his seat with the equipment partially detached.

You feel like your heart might beat out of your chest as you practically feel the pulse throughout your whole body. You’re so intensely staring, taking in the sight of him. He’s absolutely beautiful- and you're wondering to yourself how the hell a guy as good looking as him ended up here. You’re also fidgety as they work to take the equipment away, but are doing better composing yourself than Eddie. You can’t help but find it endearing as he tries to hurriedly untangle himself from the wires, frantically trying to get to you.

The technicians lead you out separately, both of you exiting from the separate doors you’ve left from during the whole experiment. The back door slams behind you as you make your final exit, and you begin to walk around the parking lot to see where he is. Eddie, leaving from the opposite side of the building, had the same idea to wander- meaning you both are aimlessly searching for one another not realizing you're both moving away from each other.

There’s this van you stumble across and it perfectly matches the way Eddie described it. The decorations you could see through the windshield solidified in your mind that it was Eddie’s. You feel a little stupid, smiling at the rundown van. It’s just such a surreal feeling being in the vicinity of it- seeing that it’s real. You don’t know how to describe it. You lean up against the side door, patiently waiting for him to return.

As Eddie turns the corner, he thinks he might pass out at the sight of you waiting for him against the van. His breath hitches at the sight of you, unfiltered, leaning up against his van because you already know him well enough to pick it out from the parking lot. It feels so surreal, and he feels like he’s in one of those cheesy rom coms but he finally gets it.

“Hey stranger,” he calls out, walking over to you with a big grin. You can’t help but match his big smile when you see him. You feel warmth and butterflies spread throughout your whole body and then hit you all at once as he strides over confidently.

You begin to open your mouth to reply with some witty response, but before you can register it, his hands are cupping both sides of your jaw and he kisses you. It’s tender and it’s the kind of kiss that you can feel yourself melting into. It felt like everything he’s told you this past week translated into action. It’s passionate, but he’s surprisingly gentle. He pulls away, still holding your face as his eyes observe your every feature.

“I’ve wanted to do that since Monday,” he sighs, and you nod in agreement.

“Me too.”

“God, look at you,” he observes, taking one step back and moving to hold your hands. “You’re fucking stunning,” he affirms, pulling you back towards him so he can wrap his arms around you for another kiss.

“Shit, I don’t even know what to do with myself,” he chuckles when you need to pull away for air. He rests his forehead to yours as you both take a breath. “Fuck me, how did I get this lucky?”

“You?” You exclaim with a giggle, “I mean, shit, Eddie, look at you.”

He blushes, and it’s probably the best thing you’ve seen. This metal head adorned with rings, chains, tattoos is red in the face because of you. You haven’t been just overwhelmed with affection like this, and it’s entirely intoxicating. Your head is spinning as you take in how he looks at you. You can’t help but shiver when you feel his hands rest on your sides and he rubs absentmindedly the skin just above the waist of your pants under the hem of your shirt.

He’s kissing you again and the sensation of it all is almost too much. He’s so giving. His body presses your back against the side of the van and his tall body slots against yours and for some reason you’ve never felt more safe. You don’t hear anything else but his soft breaths and moans, and you can’t smell more than his cologne and shampoo and all of your senses are working overtime to just take it all in. You’re filling in the missing pieces of him that have so far been kept away.

Neither one of you wanted to let the moment end, because you both understand how it might be strange navigating life, and what it means for the two of you, after the experiment. Is there a label for what this is? The intimacy you both feel has far surpassed the perimeters of normal dating and it feels like you're past that stage, but at the same time, you haven’t even shared physical space. You don’t know what his world looks like, and how you would fit into it. It was so easy when it was just the two of you, but what is this going to look like now?

You decide to let those thoughts subside, and focus instead on this absolutely gorgeous guy who’s obsessed with you and touching you. You let yourself focus on the feeling of the pads of his fingertips as they ignite your skin, not caring enough about the “problem areas” you usually fixate on. You allow yourself to completely surrender to his touches.

“Should we move this somewhere else maybe?” you ask, breathlessly- pulling away reluctantly. He kisses your shoulder, giving you goosebumps. You can feel his smile, warm against your skin. “You’re so soft,” he marvels, seemingly not hearing your suggestion.

“Should we go somewhere?” you giggle, and he kisses your cheek. He nods in agreement. He grabs your hand and walks you over to the passenger door. He opens it for you, and helps you as you step up into it. You don’t say anything, but you smile to yourself- it was the first time a guy held the door for you in a long time.

“Okay so I have no idea what the fuck to do,” he exclaims, cracking his knuckles as he sits in the driver’s seat. He laughs at the absurdness of the situation. He feels jumpy, overwhelmed in the best way possible. “I haven’t done this before,” he jokes and you roll your eyes.

“I mean, we can go to my apartment?” you offer as he starts the engine, and you’re both immediately met with blaring music as the van turns on. It makes you jump a little. His cheeks are flushed, turning down the volume, he apologizes. You wave your hand nonchalantly and tell him not to worry about it.

It takes a little strength to get the van moving, and you admire the way his arms flex. It’s the way he doesn’t even realize how attractive he is that astounds you the most. Once both of you are on the road and the windows are down, you’re just witnessing the beautiful sight of him- long hair getting tousled from the breeze, his profile as he nods along to the song playing, his long fingers tapping on the steering wheel- it’s enough to make you breathless.

The third floor apartment isn’t much, but Eddie is just basking in being in a space that just feels like he’s surrounded by you. It’s a little window into your mind, and he’s like a little kid as he moves around, touching everything. Your photographs, records, little trinkets, books… he zones out taking it all in and he can’t look through it all fast enough. You’re just so happy you decided to tidy up.

“If you think the stuff in here is cool, you should see in here,” you tease, leaning against the doorframe of your bedroom. Eddie thinks he might pass out when his eyes land on how your curve is accentuated by your stance. You don’t even realize it’s happening. He strides over to you and simultaneously hooks an arm around your waist and kisses you in a way that makes you dizzy. You're falling over each other, lips locked in a deep kiss as you both stumble to your bed.

Eddie pulls you into his lap as he sits on the edge of the bed. He’s trailing kisses down your jaw and down your neck, as his hands rest on your hips and he tugs you down fully when he feels you try to hover. Your skirt bunches up your thighs and when you’ve fully settled onto his lap, he can feel your warmth and he moans at the contact. The heat in your body rushes to your core at the roughness of his jeans through your panties.

“You’re so sexy,” he mumbles against your shoulder in between kisses. He’s savoring the feeling of your thighs pressed against his and the feeling of the wetness as you press against him. He presses his lips to yours again, running his hands under the back of your top to pull it off. As you untangle yourself from the shirt and toss it aside, he does the same with his. After he’s thrown his shirt with yours, his mouth falls open slightly at the sight of you. You observe as his pupils dilate and he takes in a deep breath to calm his heart.

You take in the sight of the tattoos his shirt covered and you bite your lip as you smile at the sight. He looks like a wreck in the best way. His chest rising and falling rapidly, the flex of his arms, the messy hair- everything about how he looks is just so undeniably attractive. You feel so vulnerable under his intense gaze but in a way that makes you feel desirable. You stand up to wiggle out of your skirt, and you swear his eyes were going to fall out of his pretty head. He’s immediately following your lead- frantically kicking off his jeans.

“Get back over here,” he groans, looking you up and down. He grabs your hands, pulling you back into him. He falls back on the bed, pulling you on top of him. You’re seated on his bulge that straining against his boxers, and you gasp as he rolls his hips up into yours. You lean down and kiss him, soft moans escaping your lips against his mouth. His hands find their way back to your waist and you gasp as he flips you over onto your back with ease.

“Fuck, look at you,” he says, “so fucking pretty.”

He ducks down and kisses you, and your hands tangle in his hair. You tug gently, and he moans at the sensation. His fingers tease the skin just above the waist of your panties before he pulls them to the side. His fingertips gently tease your clit and he bites his lip at your reaction. He can see himself easily becoming addicted to hearing the sweet little sounds you make for him, and just watching how beautiful you look like this.

“Oh, Eddie…” you moan softly at the sensation.

“I’ve hardly touched you pretty girl,” he says, pressing kisses down your chest and torso as he continues to tease you. You involuntarily move your hips, searching for more of the feeling. He smiles up at you in response before he slowly pulls your panties down.

Rubbing your leg affectionately, the coolness of his rings makes you shiver. He’s kissing and nipping at the skin of your inner thighs. His mess of curls is a little ticklish but nothing you don’t adore the feeling of.

He touches you like it’s second nature. It’s like he instinctively knew the perfect places to elicit the filthiest of moans from you. His fingers curl into you knowingly, and you swear no other man has been able to make you feel like this. Previous partners treated this like a chore to rush through, but Eddie’s so content taking his time and observing the way he can make you fall apart at his touch. He’s motivated to make you forget about every asshole who made you think for even a second you deserved less than this.

You begin to feel that familiar sensation building up inside of you. You chest rapidly rising and falling, looking down to see Eddie- this fucking beautiful man - between your legs, glistening with sweat as his hair sticks to his forehead, tongue poking out from his lips in concentration. He looks absolutely wrecked and it’s the sexiest thing you think you’ve ever seen.

“I’m- I’m c-close,” you manage to say between panting breaths. He smirks, and continues his pace of working his fingers in and out of you. He rests your thigh over his shoulder to press kisses of encouragement against your skin, as he mumbles just how badly he needs to see you cum. Every sense becomes too much all at once, and you can’t keep your eyes open as you feel your orgasm crash over you. Your head falls back against the pillows, and your body feels limp.

“Ready to go again, princess?”

Taglist:

@woahnotmecryingoverafanfiction @ali-r3n @cherrycolas-things @hellfirebabe666 @trixyvixx @stardancerluv @i--wont-run-this-time @mewchiili @muamazon4 @1975lily @sadbitchfangirl @strangerthings36 @fanficfanatic000 @sosawmeinhalf @animechick555 @hellv1ra

113 notes · View notes

sleepy-wyvern · 1 year

Text

His Hummingbird (Miguel O'Hara x female!reader smut)

{Angsty smut oneshot}

Available: here on Tumblr and AO3

WC: ~2.2k [oneshot]

Synopsis: You're a human female who has a boyfriend from another dimension; Spider-Man 2099. Miguel visits your apartment late at night as a surprise after not seeing him for a week.

I HAD TO GET THIS IDEA OUT OF MY HEAD BEFORE I COULD FOCUS ON OTHER FICS IM SORRY ;-;

Inspirations: the song Hummingbird by Metro Bloomin and James Blake and you know the fang scene… man definitely bites 👀

A/N: If y’all want/request more I may write more, otherwise this is a one shot ❤️ leave a comment or reblog if you liked.

Warnings/tags: Angst, Smut (18+ Minors DNI), hickies (lotsa biting), fingering, light begging from reader, p in v (condom), light male whimpering

Disclaimer: I borrowed my spanglish friend for some of the translations here. Feel free to send an ask or comment if something feels off.

Enjoy!

The moon shone bright through the heavy clouds as you wondered where your spider was.

Fighting crime, defeating evil, saving lives, all nothing you could complain about. Another universe, another day, another “business trip.” He used that phrase to try and make you feel better but it couldn’t take away from the fact that one day he may not return. Perhaps if things went bad enough you wouldn’t ever be able to know what happened to him, just spending the rest of your life waiting for someone who would never return. You tried your best to shove the thought away as you fiddled with the window latch.

You pushed open the window widely to get whatever cool night air you could in your little city apartment. As the hot summer days neared closer you took solace in the cold rainy night. The sound of the rain and the city traffic was oddly comforting.

You turned and walked toward the kitchen sink opposite of the room figuring you'd at least try to get some chores done. It was a small-ish apartment the size of a hotel room really. The biggest room was the merged kitchen and living room. Still, it was familiar enough space for you to sense the presence behind you.

The moment you turned your back you heard the window blinds gently tap against the window pane; anyone else would’ve thought that had been the wind. Anyone else without a spider person lover anyways.

“Do spiders ever use the door?” You spoke without turning around, instead you turned the faucet on to do the dishes.

“You should start locking that window at night,” his gruff voice was directly behind you.

“Miguel,” you sighed, twisting the tap off before turning around.

It had been a week since his last visit, the longest ever since you started “seeing” each other. You hadn’t put a label on anything yet, what could you call a lover from another dimension that could never stay with you?

Every time you saw him after a prolonged period you were intimidated by how he stood over you. He hadn’t meant to be intimidating as his mask was already removed, yet it was hard to ignore his height and size of his build especially when he had to look down at you.

“Nobody can enter a 4th story window,” you smiled. “Just you.”

Despite that you were angry he was gone for so long your heart melted at the sight of his brown locks falling gracefully over his forehead. He wore his blue and red spider suit as he always did when traveling.

He wrapped his large arms around your waist, pulling you close into his hot embrace. He planted a kiss on your forehead.

“Te extrañé…” He trailed off as he pulled back to look into your eyes.

He held his hands against your face when you eyed his bracelet; the thing that let him stay here with you without “glitching out.” It was a grim reminder of what could never be. Despite the comfort you got from his rough hands against your soft face, it made you sad.

“I missed you too,” you sighed, overlapping his hand with your smaller one.

The bracelet was cool to the touch as you frowned. “Where have you been?” You scolded, “You told me you’d be back by Monday. It’s Friday!”

“I’m sorry,” he sighed furrowing his brows. “It’s work.”

“It always is,” You turn around putting your hands on the smooth countertop.

“I’ll make it up to you,” he offered, sounding sad and hopeful.

You knew he didn’t mean to make you worry or make you sad. You both wished things were different. It would make it so much easier. You knew though that if he could change things he would and you didn’t want to hold what was out of his control against him. It wasn’t his fault you were born in different worlds, different universes. It didn’t help that you weren’t a spider person either.

You felt his hands gently against your waist as he moved closer to you.

“I'm sorry." He sighed. "Mi pequeña colibrí…” he whispered into your ear. His breath was hot and heavy against your neck sending shivers down your body.

“Oh stop, you can’t use the español to make me feel better! No fair!” You laughed.

He placed a kiss on your ear that tickled before you spun back around, wrapping your arms over his shoulders.

“My spiderman,” You giggled as his look of concern melted into happiness. "I'm not mad at you. Just try to let me know if you'll be late next time."

The corner of his lips turned upward ever so slightly in relief. "I promise."

Another thing that was likely yours only; Miguel’s smile. When Jessica met you she was surprised you were even real. She warned you to not mention much of Miguel’s personal life activities to the other spider people but it was hard to remember. Once you accidentally mentioned the flowers on your table were from Miguel to Gwen she nearly fainted. You adored the way he treated you special even if you weren’t sure why he chose you. You could never be mad at him for something he couldn't control.

He brushed his thumbs in a circular motion against your waist as he held you. His dark eyes were full of love as he looked down at you.

You ran your fingers back through his brown hair. He seemed to sigh beneath your touch, it was thrilling in a way to know he was comfortable enough around you to let his guard down. Nobody else could see Miguel the way you did.

“You need to stop being so stressed. Relax more.” You sighed bringing your fingers to his forehead. “Grumpy wrinkles.”

He chuckled low as he held you tightly. He brought his face down into your neck to inhale the sweet scent of your perfume that he loved so much.

“I know what helps with that,” his voice was deep and silky and fuck it made your body melt.

You giggled as his sweet kisses turned into loving nibbles. He was careful to not hurt you with his fangs but he knew how much you loved his gentle biting. You had a hunch he loved it as much as you did. On top of that it’s been a week without it and damn you missed him.

You let his touch overwhelm you as he held you, softly biting against your delicate skin. His body tensed against you the moment you let out a small pleasurable gasp.

“Hm,” He huffed deeply as he pulled back. “I forgot my strength. I’m sorry, mi colibrí.”

He brought his fingers up to your neck, wiping away the wetness before examining the hickie left behind.

“That’s what makeup is for,” you reassured. “Now, you have a week to make up for…”

“No better time to start than now,” he knocked off the stack of papers that were laying on the countertop.

Before you could react he grabbed your hips, lifting you into the air. You let out a faint gasp as you wrapped your legs around him.

“Miguel!” You scolded as he smirked at you, placing you on the empty countertop space. “Naughty, what has become of you?” You teased him.

“You have become of me,” he pressed his hot lips against yours hungrily.

He brought his hands around to the back of your head holding you close so he could kiss you deeply. It wasn’t long before you could feel his cool tongue against your lips. You opened your mouth letting him in, his cold mouth meeting your warm one.

You brought your hands to his shoulders feeling the fabric of his suit. Eagerly you moved your fingers to his back, grasping for the zipper. You rotated between feeling the muscles of his back and fumbling with the damn zipper making your kisses turn sloppy.

“Eager aren’t we?” He laughed low and deep in his throat, it wasn’t a mocking tone. In fact you knew he loved it.

He shimmied his shoulders out of the suit and it took all of your power not to basically drool over him. You wasted no time bringing your hands to feel his hot skin, tracing your fingers lovingly over the scars on his chest.

You buried your fingers in his hair as your lips met again. The man loves to kiss you, almost as much as he loves to bite you. He took the opportunity to switch to biting your neck whenever you pulled back to breathe.

He slowly brought his fingers underneath the hem of your shirt, running his calloused fingers along your silky smooth torso. You separated from him only long enough to remove the pesky fabric of your top before diving back into him again.

You could feel the bulge in his underwear against your leg as he leaned forward to undo the clasp of your bra. He brought his large hands to your breasts lovingly cupping and massaging them. Goosebumps rose against his skin at the sound of your soft, lustful moans.

“More baby,” you whispered.

He brought his lips to your nipple, his hair tickling your chest. You tilted your head down letting yourself get lost in the scent of his shampoo while he planted wet kisses against your stiff nipple. His grabs on your body slowly turned more rough as you felt his teeth against your skin.

“More,” you demand. It’s been a week and damn you wanted him more than anything.

He hooked his fingers underneath the soft fabric of your leggings and panties as you shimmied to help. Your body shivered as the fabric pooled to the floor. Miguel looked at your body with a mixture of awe and hunger- a deep lust filled hunger.

He brought his index and middle finger to your entrance, smiling when he felt how wet you were.

“You really did miss me huh, mi pequeña colibrí?”

You nodded “mmm’, yes I did. Need you, Miguel.” You whined feeling him circle your entrance.

He wasn’t cruel to make you wait as he plunged his fingers in. Your back arched as you gasped, spreading your legs desperate for him deeper. Feeling his fingers arch against your walls and watching the movements of his wrist as he pleased you was intoxicating.

Still you wanted more.

“Please, baby,” you whimpered.

Your body whined when he stopped and pulled his fingers out.

“What is it, cariño?” His voice purred. He brought his fingers to his lips, rolling his tongue over your sweetness.

“You,” your lip quivered as you shuddered from the cool apartment air. “Please.”

You knew this was a game he could normally play for a long time. Not today though, neither of you could handle it. Instead your heart raced as he nodded to the kitchen drawer where you kept the condoms since counter sex had become a more regular activity.

He brought his large, hard cock out of his boxers, stroking lightly. You swallowed at the sight wondering how you could ever take him.

He smirked at your expression “are you afraid?”

You shook your head, reaching your hands out to his broad shoulders trying to bring him closer. You fumbled with the condom, bringing your hands to his hot cock. He gasped lightly as your hands held him him, rolling the condom down over him.

He lined his tip against your entrance, soaking himself in your juices and teasing you just a little.

“Are you ready?” He whispered and for the first time tonight you heard his voice start to shake.

You bit your lip as you nodded “I am.”

He slowly slid himself in as you let out a moan of tight, firey pressure. The moment he was fully inside you both let out a gasp; you both waited so long for this moment. You wrapped your arms around him as he buried his face in the crook of your neck while you got used to the feeling of all of him inside.

He waited for you to nod and give him the okay to continue. He planted a kiss on your cheek as he pulled out slightly before thrusting in again. You spread your legs further apart, moaning at the next deeper thrust. You grasped at the muscles of his back for an anchor.

“Just like that, cariño,” He whispered, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear.

He thrusted against, harder and faster as you felt your pleasure start to build. He kept a lovely, steady pace and you knew it wouldn’t be long until you reached your climax.

“Oh Miguel,” you moaned, making him shiver. “Baby, I’m close.”

You grasped at his back desperate to have more of him. His heavy breaths and grunts sent electricity through you while his cock pressed lovingly against that sweet spot.

“Don’t move,” his voice was a quiet whimper while you held him.

Fuck, hearing him whimper always sent you feral but you did your best to keep still while he pounded into your tight cunt. Your back arched as the waves of pleasure crashed down into a lovely orgasm.

“You feel so good,” he whispered in your ear.

You knew he was close and you wrapped your legs around him not letting him go.

“I’m, I’m-“ his voice broke off as you felt his cock twitch inside of you.

His arms held you tightly to him as you were wrapped around him lovingly. The heat of your bodies, the feeling of his heart beating and the rise and fall of his chest as he heavily breathed through the pleasure… Despite that soon he’d have to leave again these moments are what make it worth it.

"Te amo," his voice was a husky whisper as he held you.

For now, you got to enjoy the warm embrace of your spider.

===

💙💙💙💙

Thanks so much for reading, let me know if you enjoyed with any comments/reblogs, I appreciate them all!

-Wyv

#miguel spiderman #across the spiderverse #miguel o'hara #miguel x reader #miguel x female!reader #miguel o'hara smut #miguel ohara #miguel o'hara x female!reader smut #miguel o'hara x y/n #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara x you #miguel o'hara x female!reader #miguel ohara imagine #miguel o'hara imagine #fan fic #fan fics #fan fiction #fan fictions

406 notes · View notes

sleepinginmygrave · 3 months

Text

uh. hello

you can call me jupiter or james but nicknames are more than welcome ⁞ minor ⁞ they/him/hers ⁞ pangender ⁞ polyam ⁞ pan+aroaceflux ⁞ saphillean ⁞ capricorn ⁞ christian ⁞ witch ⁞ therian ⁞ french ⁞ regulus + barty + evan kinnie ⁞ harp player ⁞ art is the most important thing to me ⁞ astronomy and marine biology nerd ⁞ big big big animal lover ⁞ huge classical music enjoyer

about me. i guess

musical artists (it is all over the place sorry)↬tv girl. alex g. mac demarco. current joys. mother mother. ethel cain. abba. lamp. vashti bunyan. ichiko aoba. lisa ono. gorillaz. radiohead. nirvana. tyler, the creator. mf doom. crystal castles. conan gray. home. cavetown. deftones. sum 41. rammstein. the smiths. david bowie. queen. t-rex. the beatles. arctic monkeys. simon & garfunkel. sufjan stevens. the cure. strawberry guy. lana del rey. steve lacy. the neighborhood. roar. vacations. lukrembo. liana flores. duster. kyo. sign crushes motorist. macabre plaza. beabadoobee. m83. her's. memo boy. pink pantheress. men i trust. eminem. beach house. yot club. cigarettes after sex. tame impala. eyedress. jack stauber.

classical composers↬ tchaïkovsky; ravel; saint saëns; debussy; satie; fauré; grieg; shostakovtich; liszt

currents animals obsession↬ jellyfishs, sharks, whales, whale sharks, african wild dogs, bovines, horses, (all farms animals. tbh), isopods, snails, any murids, all birds, tarentulas

things i'm deeply passionate about (or enjoy)↬ the sea • rain • animals • plants • poetry • art in any from • classical music • forests • thanatology • marine biology • astronomy • music • bugs • reading at night • art history • plants • gothic architecture • flowers • winnie the pooh

hobbies↬ baking. painting. drawing. knitting. crocheting. playing the harp. going outside. skateboarding. listening to music. reading.

miscellaneous

• i love baking and uhhh i make crêpes almost every week

•@orbitfalls n°1 fan!!!!! everyone go check on her art and read what she write RIGHT NOW because golly i still can't beleive it's possible to be this talented

•i knit and crochet. a lot. too much

•capricorn sun, virgo moon and aries rising. and and i have 6 capricorn placements (and 3 aquarius) (.yeah no comment (please comments))

•i do believe in astrology, actually

•i'm a witch!! (christian eclectic witch)

•@sceirlose & @idk-what-to-put-here-123 are my parents and i love them very much

• i'm half norwegian so i go there every years and you will see me posting about it

•orange and blue color combo offical biggest fan. i even have a tag for it it's #almost-night blue+warm orange from the windows i think

•i have three older brother :3

•@evanmp3 is my rp blog and i think you should join we still have a lot of free places and we're so funny and cool (to join ask @thedvilsinthedetails)

• you probably guessed that i play the harp, i've been for 8 years now, i'm in a concervatory and play in an orchestra :]

•i love uhhh music,,a lot,,,

• i'm very normal about everything (lying. if you couldn't tell)

•i want weird pets rn i NEED a tarentula and a snake and a lizard and a crow SO BAD it's not even funny i need them SO SO BAD PLEASE GOD LET ME HAVE THEM I WOULD TREAT THEM SO WELL,,,, I LOVE ANIMALS HLHKFKG *shaking crying sobbing etc*

•i love love love winnie the pooh and tagging me in Winnie the pooh stuffs is more than welcome

• i'm just a silly guy ya'll :3

• i'm in a qpr with the amazing @url0cal-weird0 <33

• I LOVE ART SO SO MUCH art history is so so so interesting and i will reblog a lot of art stuffs (i also do art (oil pastels my beloved) and will post it occasionally if i feel silly)

• also i'm uhh i'm a jellyfish.. and a whale shark..(literally. i'm therian) btw i have a nonhuman sideblog now!! it's @st4rllyfish :3

• i'm trying so hard to make this intro post aesthetic and uhhh stuff but really i'm just a guy i promise i can't do anything serious in my life this is very hard for me please be kind :3

• how do you. make a cool intro post

(dividers by @roseraris and @the-blinkie-guy)

blinkies and userboxes!!

102 notes · View notes

that-one-anxious-mango · 2 months

Note

Hi love! I hope you are feeling/doing better! I was just thinking about the Days of Our Love series. Any chance we might get an update soon? I miss it!

Oh, New York. How I Love You. (1)

Summary: Austin's best girl comes to visit him in New York to cherish the time they have together before he leaves to Australia, in what becomes a very eventful two weeks together.

Word count: 8.2k

Warning: LONG POST!

Contents: Lots of fluff. Mentions of childhood trauma. Sexual Content (Oral: Fem receiving, hand job: Male Receiving), emotional situations.

A/N: Hello beautiful humans, it has been a minute. Don't drag me please. I just always take so long because I want to always put out the best content. Would you believe me if I said this went through TWO edits. Geez! But all in all, I hope you enjoy.

PS: Everyone feel free to comment, send more letter, and reblog! Much Love *hugs* Tags: @purejasmine, @wacoshuffle , @flyestvenustrap , @louisejoy86 , @unicoreads, @incorectly

______

“ Are you seriously going to take all of that to New York with you? Why don’t you just take one suitcase and then buy some outfits to wear there, ya’ know. “ Phoebe chirped from her spot laid out across your bed while flipping through a HG magazine.

“ I agree. Buy some cute outfits and surprise him that way. Then you’ll have room to bring back the clothes you buy for you and us.” Alex continued to play a riveting game of tug of war with Magnus on the floor.

Her last comment made a laugh erupt from you in the closet, “ Yeah nice try, buddy. I’m not bringing you heifers anything back but some damn keychains and the lasting scent of the smug and smoggy New York air on me the next time we see each other.” You yelled back. “ And plus it’s gonna be cold outside.”

Phoebe laughed while Alex scoffed, “ UM! Excuse me ma’am, but as a friend, need I remind your ass that this was a part of the deal. Since you’re abandoning me, The Travel Buddy, to go FORNICATE with Mr. Goldilocks in New York instead of HOME with me for the Winter Wonderland Festival. You promised to bring me back something nice to add to my outfit for the Warner Bros. charity event next month.” She recalled the promise that you did in-fact make to cease her tantrum at the time.

“ And on top of that, I’m also the one silk pressing your hair for this trip, ma’am. AND taking care of my fur nephew that you’re abandoning as well. Therefore, I DESERVE SOMETHING.” She added.

“ This is true.” Phoebe co-signed, continuing to flip through the pages.

You cut your eyes at her when you entered the room again to walk a pair of shoes over to your bursting suitcase.

“ Yeah. Yeah. I’ll make sure to bring you back something for your pain and suffering. Brat.” You muttered the last part. “ AND fyi his hair is black now.”

Alex grinned while blowing you an air kiss that you grab and pretend to smush in your hands.

“ You know you LUHHHHH me, girl.” She teased. “ Now hurry up because I don’t have all night to do this. I don’t know why you didn’t just get braids or some passion twists put in like a normal person going on a trip .”

“ What’s love got to do with it?” You sassed. In return you were met with a pillow to the side and giggles around the room. “ And don’t rush me! I’m almost done.”

“ What time is Austin supposed to be coming to get you from the airport? Phoebe questioned.

“ Noon.” You answered fighting to try and fit a scarf into your luggage. “ My flight leaves at noon and I should be there by evening. I’m not exactly sure when, I just know their three hours ahead.

“ Okay. Cool, just make sure you let us know when you’re in the car and everything. “ Phoebe noted.

You scoff, “Like yall asses won’t be watching me on 360 anyway. Stalkers.”

“ Hey! You should be happy that somebody cares enough to stalk your ass. People go missing everyone, B.” Alex mocked the line from Paid in Full.

“ Yeah. I know. I do the same thing with ya’ll.” You huffed, “ Okay. I think that’s it.”

“ Good! “ Alex jumped up, “ Now go and grab my hair bag. So we can start on this head, honey. All this dang hair.” She looked at the long blow dried mess on your head.

“ I know damn well that is not a damn hot comb.” You deadpanned.

“ Do you want the hair straight or not? We have heat protectant, so relax. Whenever we both get back I’ll come over and we can do a treatment to make sure your curls revert back right. I got this. Now tilt your head down..”

Phoebe giggled watching the two of you fuss at one another, “ Yeah you better sleep pretty tonight, babes. Head on hands, silk scarf, and turn a fan on so you don’t sweat.”

“ I'm aware.” You sighed, settling into the chair and began to listen to Phoebe as she started her descent into her plans while you would be away.

“ OW! ” You jumped at the sudden sharp burning feeling on your scalp, “ Alex really.”

“ I barely touched you! It’s the steam.” She giggled at the scrunch on your face, “ Hehe. My bad.”

______

The Next Day…

After a couple goodbyes to your fur baby and helping your driver wrestle your large suitcase into the back of the car Austin had sent for you against your wishes, you found yourself tiredly weaving about through LAX.

You’d already pre-checked everything, so once you went through security and went to make sure your gate existed, you’d found a very overpriced coffee place and ordered a little danish and iced chai to settle the nerves.

It wasn’t until you were in a seat by the terminal happily scrolling away on your phone that you got a text message from Austin.

Sweet Baboo: can’t wait to see you. enjoy your flight. love you. :3

Once you boarded, the flight had been fine and you’d done exactly what was predicted of you.

You’d read for a good couple of hours and then slept a good chunk of the rest of it. The flight was smooth with no delays.

When the pilot announced your descent, anticipation began to build up in your chest

Quickly you pulled out the mini mirror from your carry on bag and went to fix your minimal makeup and undid the head scarf on your head to reveal the flowy silk press that fell down your shoulders. You combed it out and fixed your little cute airport outfit in preparation to get off.

Seeing as you were in first class, against your wishes also, you were one of the first to exit the plane. You made it to baggage claim where a nice older gentleman with a sign had begun setting your luggage up for you on a cart and offered to push it down to the terminal.

“ For Miss Y/L/N.” He’d smiled.

“ Yes, I’m her.” You nodded.

“ Wonderful I’ll be helping you with your luggage. Compliments of a Mr. Sweet Baboo.” He told you with a grin on his face.

You stifled a part of your laugh as the two of you began walking through the airport, “ Did he really ask you to say that? “

He nodded, “ Yes, He did. But I don’t mind. One of the more milder things I’ve been asked to say in my time doing this job.”

“ I can only imagine.” You laughed.

“ Quite cold outside. But you look bundled up.” The man smiled.

“ Oh yeah. It’s the Sahara in here. I think the breeze will actually help cool me down.”

The sharp chill of the evening wind swiped at the little exposed patches of your face as you made it to the extremely congested pick up and drop off area. It felt near impossible to try and find which car belonged to your boyfriend in the sea of what felt like a thousand black SUVs littering the street.

It wasn’t until you spotted a familiar head of slicked back raven hair stuck out one window that you recognized your boyfriend as he made his way out the car.

A squeal unintentionally left you and Austin smiled a mile wide as he opened his arms up to you, “ There’s my girl.” He laughed, catching your body that was flung into him. “ Hey there. Mr. Sweet Baboo.” You giggled into his neck, placing a kiss there.

He’d taken his time unlatching you from him until he offered to quickly help the man load the trunk since he’d spotted what he believed to be the shine of a camera in the distance.

You didn’t have time to breathe once you both were inside and the door shut. The partition was already rolled up and once the car started to move, and so did Austin’s lips against yours. Your body had suddenly felt like it was on fire with a flame that only he could put out.

Your hands were attached to his face while his own were free to roam the parts of your body he’d missed in his absence.

A small moan escaped you at the sensation of his hand kneading your thigh under his touch and pulling you further into him to the point of being in his lap now.

“ Fuck, I missed you, Baby.” He groaned.

“ Not as much as I missed you.” You mumbled in-between kisses, hands feverishly grabbing at anything on his body that would keep him tethered to you.

He smiled into your lips, “ Is that a challenge? Because believe me, before this car even hits the main streets I can prove that I missed you most.” He whispers, hand sliding to rest just under your abdomen. Your breath hitches and the most indecent thoughts begin to pool around in your brain.

You giggled feeling his fingers sliding up your cardigan, “ Okay..okay..okay. I believe you.”

“ I can’t wait to get you home, all to myself.” His words came out muffled, but had all the same effect as you found yourself pacing your breath and clenching your legs together.

“ You look cold, sweetheart. Let me warm you up.”

The ride had been agonizingly long with Austin teasing you every chance you got.

When the two of you arrived at Austin’s brownstone, your eyes couldn’t register just how beautiful it looked from the outside. Almost like something you’d see in movies like Autumn in New York or Maid in Manhattan.

“ Aus it’s beautiful.” You mumbled out taking in the glistening snow that littered the cement steps beyond the black steel gate.

“ Thank you. Can’t wait to get you inside of it.” He smiled, pecking your lips before getting out.

To your protests, he’d gotten all of your bags himself and took them inside as you huffed and whined, “ I wanna help! It’s my stuff. Aus! It’s too cold for you to be out here doing this by yourself.”

“ Nope. Just get your cute ass in the house. ” You rolled your eyes at his smug grin.

The minute you stepped inside the foyer of the home Austin had literally swept you off your feet, dipping his face into your neck to administer kisses.

You laugh and thrash in his arms the entire way to his gorgeous couch, ridding yourselves of your coats.

“ So, first, “ He plopped down next to you, instantly reaching his arms out to pull your body into his lap. “ Are you hungry? I know you didn’t eat on the plane. And before we do anything else I wanna get you fed if need be.”

“ No, not really. “ You leaned back against him, “ I think I’m just hyped up on the adrenaline of getting to see you.”

“ Yeah me too.” A finger traced along your neck just where your hair fell past, , “ Damn. Look at your hair. I knew it was long, but I’ve never seen it like this. It’s beautiful.”

“ Thanks. I wanted something a little more manageable since our itinerary is a bit packed. It’s not big and unruly like usual.” You played with your ends.

“ Stop it.” He scolded, “ Big? Yes. Unruly? No. I love your hair in its natural state babe. It’s cute. I love watching you take care of it. It reminds me to stay up on my shit.”

“ Yeah, no 2 in 1 conditioner for you buddy.” You reached to pick at one of his dark locks close to his ear. It was still taking some getting used to.

“ Hey.” He turned to nip at your hand, “ There wasn’t any 2 in 1 shampoo before you and there damn sure won’t be any now that I’ve been exposed to the good life.”

And a good life it was! You’d exposed Austin to all the skin care, shea butter, oil pulling, essential oils and everything else needed and now mysteriously you had products coming up empty all the time.

“ I know babe I’m just teasing. Excited for this weekend with you.”

“ So am I. Gonna’ feel good spending time with my girl. Kinda miss my little buddy though. “

“ I know me too.” You pout, “ But I promise you he’s living his best life with his Aunt Alex. He’s already had a pup cup, two treats, and last I knew was taking a nap in her office on a pile of heated blankets.”

“ You’re going home to a diva, baby.” He smirked, imagining the little dog buried in blankets fast asleep. “ So, back to this itinerary that was mentioned.”

“ Yes! It goes by day to optimize experiences and time.“ You pronounced proudly, bouncing on the couch.

“ Really? “

“ Truly. I wanna make the most of our time together.” You replied.

“ Okay, do tell. “ His eyebrows raised in amusement, “ What’s on today? “

“ Today’s agenda is light because it’s the first day and I already knew I’d be tired. So the only two major things on the list are having dinner with my Sweet Baboo and unpacking.”

“ Nice! And we can make all that happen. Let’s take a look at the other days.”

And you did, together you examined the well planned and thought out itinerary in front of you.

He nodded , “ Looks good. We may have to make a couple of adjustments if that’s okay with you. I have some surprises in store.”

“ Ouuu! What?! Tell me.” You practically bounced in his lap.

He smiled, “ If I told you it wouldn’t be a surprise then, would it.”

“ Not even a hint.” You whine, slightly puckering your lips, and playfully batting your mascaraed eyelashes.

“ No. Nuh uh. Not gonna happen. But you’re cute though, baby.” He pecked your lips.

You groan, “ Fine! On second thought I am hungry. Feed me seymour.” You goofed trying to imitate the rich voice of Levi Stubbs.

The lines of his lips curl, “ C’’mon then Audrey II. You can keep me company while I start dinner.”

And you did just that perched on a chair at the island while the two of you made small talk.

“ That can’t be all.” He softly laughed, “ I haven’t seen you and I wanna really know how my girl is doing? Tell me. I know there's something.”

“ I mean there really isn’t much to tell, baby. I told you. It’s just been work..writing…Magnus..and missing you.”

“ How about that lease? “ Austin said, rolling out the dough in front of you.

Your shoulders tensed, “ What about it?”

“ You talk to your building manager about whether you're renewing or not this spring, yet? ” He inquired about your plans for your apartment, which was really his not so subtle way of asking if you’d thought anymore about his offer to move in with him after Elvis was estimated to wrap this summer.

Although you and Austin had been together for almost six months at this point, you weren’t exactly sure if you were completely ready for that kind of commitment yet. Granted when the projected time of wrapping would come around the two of you would be coming up on a year, you still had some things holding you back about the whole ordeal.

“ It’s on the to - do - list…” You stretched, “One of the many adult things to eventually be handled.”

“ Uh huh. I see. “ He mused,” Well like I said before. I wouldn’t mind coming home to you and Magnus every night. And when I’m home you're either always at my place or vice versa. In my eyes it would just make sense.” Austin explained.

Your hands fidget with the brown place mat in front of you, “ I hear you and I understand, babe. And I promise I’m really taking all of this into heavy consideration. “ You settled.

“ Good, I can live with that. Now get up, come over here and help me by cutting the sheath on these asparagus.” Austin instructed, while heating up his rosemary and pepper butter mix in his skillet.

Your eyes widened at the opportunity to help, while you could cook you were unashamed to say that you had hard limitations of what you could and couldn’t make. Whereas Austin on the other-hand was practically a chef with the way he could make his assortment of dishes. Which in turn made him the primary cook of the relationship while you were always happy to be captain of the clean up crew.

“ Oh yay. I get to help.” You hopped up, “ And you're going to let me use a knife! Sick! “

Now becoming skeptical, Austin cocked his head rethinking his offer of a sous chef position, “ On second thought maybe you should stick to being my honorary taste tester. Quite good at that job, peaches.”

“ Nope. I’m helping. “ You rolled up your sleeves, “ Now prepare to see some clean beautifully mutilated asparagus, babe. “

“ Jesus.” Austin groaned, placing the steaks in the sizzling pan.

______

Your dinner of sirloin, seared asparagus, garlic and herb mash potatoes, and bread you couldn’t pronounce right was absolutely splendid.

And now being presented in-front of you was just the dessert to top the night off: A thick and nice slice of strawberry drizzled NY cheesecake.

Favorite of yours.

As you began to indulge in your sweet treat you teased yourself by wondering if there was any way the night could possibly get better.

Then it hit you…you could knock one of your tomorrow's itenary items off tonight without any worry.

So, yes. It definitely could.

“ You know what would be really good, right now.” You mused aloud at the island.

Still turned Austin asked, “ And what would that be, sweetheart? “ He continued loading the dishwasher.

“ A nice hot relaxing bath. “

“ Uh huh.“ He sounded

Grabbing the towel off the stove handle, Austin walked over to the island to lean in.

“ Okay. “ He simply said, “ Your wish is my command.”

“ Really? “ You nervously scraped your fork against your plate.

“ Of course. This trip is all about you. So, if the best girl wants to end the evening with a bath. Then it’s my job to make it happen.” He washed his hands.

“ Just stay here and finish your dessert. And then come up. Alright? “ He instructed, coming around to stand in front of you, taking your face into his face.

“ Okay. “ You nodded.

He returned the gesture and placed a chaste kiss to your forehead on his way out before heading upstairs.

You could hear the faint sounds of water running as you struggled to calm your weirdly nervous stomach and finish your dessert.

By the time you made it up stairs and into the bathroom the lights were dimmed and the aroma of jasmine bath salts and vanilla bubble bath filled your senses.

You weren’t spooked when you felt him appear behind you.

“ Let me take this off of you.” His fingers danced along the curves of your side as his hands moved along to lift your shirt over your head.

You sucked in tiny breaths the rest of the time he took to undress you. Ever so often you’d catch his eyes and smile, turning away to blush.

Once you were as naked as the day you were born, he gently helped you step into the creme claw foot tub.

“ You wanna get in? “ You sheepishly grinned. “ Plenty of room.” Kicking up your feet over the side to expose the suds and bubbles that dripped down your legs.

Knowing that he’d already restrained himself while helping you undress, Austin wasn’t too sure he’d be able to handle any accidental slips of the hand or touching by any means without immediately yanking you out the bath and into the bedroom for some extremely intentional touching of his own to you.

“ No, I’m okay. This is about you. So, enjoy your bath, babe.” He smiled leaning over to grab at the loofa.

, “ Stop it. You’re fine.” Austin playfully scolded, watching the pout spread on your face.

“ If you want we can both sit on opposite sides. “ You offered just as a lightbulb went off in your brain, “ OH! Or you could lay with your back against my chest and my arms around you like Vivan and Edward in Pretty Woman. I’ve actually always wanted to do that.” You confessed your little fantasy.

“ Plus. You did say this weekend was about me.” You moved to place your hands on the tub and rest your head on them, “ And what I want right now is for you to come in here with me. Now,“

Austin’s cheeks warmed in affection and amusement as he watched a twinkle appear in your eye at the idea of getting to live out another one of your little rom-com fantasies. And how you’d suddenly gotten a bit bold in your request.

He sat there for a moment contemplating when ultimately he decided who would he be if he couldn’t be the person to fulfill your fantasies and desires.

He blew out air, “ Fine. I’ll be the Edward to your Vivan, babe. But just know the accidental touching and moving needs to be kept to a minimum. “ You watched as he stood up to pull his shirt above his head and shimmy his pants. “ I mean it. I am a man of virtue after all, honey. A delicate flower you could say. So, I expect to be treated as such.” He teased.

You didn’t have a smart remark to quip back at him because your mind and eyes had both been polluted with the images of him bare before you in all his glory.

Instead you mustered a playful cat call, “ Yeah take it off! Look at those cheeks! “

All Austin could do was smile and shake his head as he walked over and maneuvered himself to get in and sink in between your legs. Your arms found a home around his shoulders and your lips made quick work of placing innocent enough kisses to his skin in places you knew may be less…inflammatory than others.

And you could tell by the low and almost soulful groan Austin let out once he was fully submerged in the calm of the warm water that this was something he needed too. “ Feels good..” He mumbled letting his head back to rest in the valley of your naked breasts.

“ Good.” You replied, as you too were enjoying the warm intimacy of the atmosphere.

“ We don’t do this enough at home.” Austin sounded as you used the soft silicone loofah to scrub and wash his chest.

“ What? “

“ Relaxing…soaking like this.” He rubbed at your knee that was exposed out of the water.

“ I agree.”

“ So..” He squeezed the sponge he’d grabbed and dipped into the water on your back, “ You excited for tomorrow? “

You nodded, “ I am. I’ve visited here once on a family trip and another time for a work thing. But I’ve always felt like I’ve never gotten the true experience. And since Aunt Kiki lives here now I’ve been wanting to visit her. But of course she’s away on a work trip this time of year.”

“ Mhmm.” A hum can from Austin as you move your hand lower.

“ Watch yourself.” Austin mumbled, grabbing that hand to interlock it with his.

And you did, you made it a point to keep your hands clear of the southern equator of your man. That was until you felt him let guard with a sigh and push back into you.

This was the moment you took your opportunity.

A breath hitched, “ Y/N…what are you doing? I thought I made it very clear the stipulations of this arrangement. “

You crane your head down to rest your lips just above the shell of his ear as your hand continues to move toward its desired destination.

He tensed against you when you went to lightly grip at his now half-hard cock in your hand. You moved it up and down a bit before stopping and using the pad of your thumb to quickly run across his tip.

Involuntarily Austin lets out a small hiss at the sensation, “ Alright, that’s enough of that. “ He hand comes to try and halt yours. But you use your leg to stop him.

Instead you ignored him, keeping your attention focused on guiding your hand to stroke him up and down. The water of the tub has begun to sway from the movement, “ I’m not done.” You whispered in his ear. “ You said this weekend was about making me feel good.”

Your tongue darts out to lick and bite at his ear, “ You wanna know what would make me good?

“ Yes.” His answer sounded strained against his voice. By now he’d ever so slightly begun to move his hips upward into your hand, beginning to get lost in the sensation of his touch.

“ What would make me good right now is for you to be a good boyfriend and cum all over my hand for me.” You say, mindful to increase the pace of your hand. “ Please can I have it, baby. Will you give it to me? Will you give your cum, baby? “

“ Oh fuck.” Austin’s head dives back against your breast and his eyes are tightly shut as his body begins to become overwhelmed with pleasure. Your words doing something to him, of course he’d heard you be verbal during exchanges, but never like this. “ I’ll give you anything you want.” He groaned.

“ That good, Aus? “ You used your free hand to come from its place on his chest, to grip at his chin and guide his head to loll to the side. It gives you access to attach your lips to his in what could only be described as a sloppy exchange of love. You swallowed his grunts and groans in your throat while he allowed your soft whimpers to enclose his lips.

By now the water of the tub began to slosh with bits beginning to fly out of the tub and onto the floor from the impact of Austin’s hips coming to meet the pace of your hand.

He reluctantly forced his mouth away from yours, saliva collected on his cheeks. “ Fuck, just like that. Baby you’re gonna make me cum if you keep doing this.”

“ Yeah? That’s what I want, baby. Give it to me, Aus. Show me how much you missed my touch, baby.” You moaned dipping your head to suck on skin you’d long ago identified on his neck to be his “ sweet spot.”

With that he couldn’t contain himself anymore and you watched as his face contorted into a beautiful display of pleasure and angst, his eyelashes fluttered as he shot his thick ropes of cum in your hand. You keep stroking him through it until a hand shoots out to stop you. This time it succeeded as you ceased your movement, and watched his chest heave up and down.

Your hand rubs at his shoulder to help ground him and bring him back to you.

After a couple of minutes with a huff he speaks, “ Was this your plan all along? To get me in this position, baby. So you could use me this way, as your play thing? “ He accuses.

“ Guilty.” You whispered, thinking about how this all was in-fact a long game in getting him here. You knew had it been in the bedroom or anywhere else he would have undermined your advances and made your own pleasure the main focus as usual. But you figured that if you could essentially “ trap him “ into a smaller more controlled environment where you could take the reins a bit, you could finally have a moment to adore your boyfriend the way he always makes sure to adore you.

“ What am I gonna do with you?” He groans and you smile, placing a kiss on his head.

Eventually with no more funny business involved, you both take turns cleaning each other off before he gets out and wraps a towel around his waist. And then comes back for you, plucking your wet body out of the water.

Routines are done and pajamas are thrown on quickly before he ushers you both to lay in the big king size bed.

You relish the opportunity to sleep in his arms after so long. It seemed like it’d been a day and forever. When really it’d been about five and a half weeks.

“ Quite the little show you put on there in the bathroom.” He whispered.

“ What can I say, I missed seeing the faces you make like that in person. All those facetime calls just don’t do those flushed cheeks or sweet strangled moans justice,baby. Needed to see it.” You shot back, and went to lightly play at the dip in his shoulder.

“ I see we’ve grown quite bold in my absence.” He muttered, trailing his eyes to your thigh that peaked out from the slightly raised shirt.

“ So what about me? When do I get my own personal refresher of your moans and the way your body arches off the bed when I use my fingers to touch your spot? “

At his words, you could feel your heartbeat begin to race and the all too familiar aching and yearning you’d been feeling throughout your body return.

“ I don’t know. I haven’t felt like that in a while. I’m not as good as you with my hands, baby. “ You casually say.

“ Well. I don’t particularly plan on using my hands tonight. I’ve got a bit of a different approach since we’re so eager to try out new things. “ He said.

And then he said something that knocked the wind out of your chest.

“ Instead I want you to come and sit that pretty pussy on my face.”

It would take you many moments and labored breaths of shock before you mustered up your bewildered response, “ You want me to what?! “

“ You heard me.” Austin laughed from underneath you. You were straddling his lap while he lay flat on the bed and you were pretty sure that maybe he wasn’t getting enough oxygen down there as it was.

“ Aus. You can’t be serious. I-I’m not a Polly Pocket sized girly, babe. I have a nice amount of meat on these here bones.” You countered, “ I’m not sure this is a good idea.”

“ What? You don’t think I can handle you? Is that it? “ His voice purred, fingers dancing up along the curve of your spine.

“ Of course not! “ You clarified, “ It’s just that…that.” You huffed trying to gather the right words together. “ I want you to be able to breathe , babe. HOW WILL YOU BREATHE?! “

You watched his face turn in amusement at your flustered state, “ Don’t you worry about that, babe. I’m a big boy. I’ll figure it out. And if not…. when they find me you tell them I died happy and stuffed in-between the sweetest place on earth.” He said, immediately you felt your cheeks flush, “ These thighs.”

“ AUS! “ You softly slapped at his chest, “ Be serious.”

He laughed ,“ I am. They’ll find me with a permanent glistening smile.”

You groaned trying to shimmy off of him but his hands at your sides stopped you. “ Uh huh. From when good ole’ Rick and Mortis set in.”

“ I’m not asking again, darling. “ You yelped when he grabbed your thighs and moved you further up his chest, close to your neck, “ Get up here.”

“ But Aus I- “ You cut yourself off with moan when you felt his hand come to fondle at your breast.

“ What was that? I’m sorry I may not have caught that.”

“ I-w-well-”

He had your virgin ass absolutely flustered.

“ Take em’ off. I want em’ off of you.” He mumbled,scooting you further and tugging at your night shorts.

Obliging, you somehow managed to rid yourself of your shorts and his shirt. At that moment it took all the courage not to fold right there.

You leaned forward against the pretty dark wood headboard to grip at its edges in a fair attempt at stabilizing yourself in your squat.

The plan had been to lower yourself down nice and slow, but leave it to your boyfriend to be an absolutely impatient brat to knock the wind out of you by slamming you down against his face.

You went to make a remark of protest but soon found that the second his tongue touched you, you’d been left unable to form long coherent sentences. A simple moan of, “ Austin!” Was all that was mustered.

He groans as he begins to eagerly lap and lick at your drenched pussy. The vibration alone makes you tighten your grip.

Using his hands he bares down pressing you further into him as you cry out from this new intense feeling. He's calculated with how he uses his tongue to tease the entrance of your opening before gliding it back to suckle at your poor throbbing clit.

The more and more sucks, the more your juices uncontrollably leak from you, until now the sounds of lewd slurping and your moans come together to echo off the walls.

“ That feels so good.” You mewl, unable to control how you begin to grind your pussy against his face.

He lifts up a little bit to mumble, “ Yeah? Am I making this pussy cry with my tongue? She talking to me, honey?” He sends a long lick up your slit making you jump.

“ Yes! Your tongue is so good, baby. It feels so good.” You cried out.

You could practically feel him smile into your pussy when he closed the gap, obviously satisfied with desensitizing you this way.

From there he really started to lay into you, when he laid his tongue completely flat on your clit you couldn’t help the pleas that spilled from your mouth, “ Yes! Yes! Yes! Just like that! Aus, PLEASE.” You began riding his face with more urgency.

A hand came to smack and grip at your ass to help you with your motion, by now your stomach had begun to build up into that all too familiar knot of delicious agony.

“ Oh shit! Oh shit! Oh shit! “ You squealed, “ Aus I’m close! I gotta get up.” You tried scrambling off him and out of his grip, out of fear he truly wouldn’t be able to breathe from how hard you were about to flood his face.

Little did you know that was all the motivation he needed to go harder, using his tongue and mouth to take a grip on your clit that outta to be illegal. He sent a series of smacks to your exposed ass to let you know that you had better not go anywhere.

Tears sprang in your eyes, “ I-I. It’s too much! “

You white knuckled the headboard as your body began to heat up and spark with your impending orgasm. “ Aus I’m about to cum all over your fucking face!”

“ That’s it, baby. Let go for me.” He moaned out against you.

Gripping your ass harder he helped grind you faster against his tongue until he felt your body begin convulsing above him, “ I’m fucking cumming! Aus! Yes! Yes! Yes! “ You hissed, feeling the floodgates overtake you.

After cleaning you up with a couple more licks and slurps, he catches your limp body and gently lowers you to lay next to him.

Through hazy pleasure ridden eyes you look over to see that previously mentioned glistening smile set across his face as he lays triumphantly next to you!

You feel the bed dip as he disappears into the bathroom and returns with two damp towels: one for you and one for him.

He goes to really clean you up before hoisting you in his arms and carrying you to the bathroom to pee.

After everything is said and done, he brings a now sleepy you into his chest, arms creating a warm cage of comfort, “ So, will I be doing that again this weekend?” His hands rub your back.

You nod and he smiles, “ That good? “

Voice cracking you whisper back, “ Could you not tell by the way I left Lake Erie on your face that it was fuckin’ amazing.”

“ Just checking. “ He laughed, “ Next time we’ll try for the Mississippi, yeah?”

_____

Next Day

Madison Square Garden

New York Rangers vs Philadelphia Flyers Game

“ I can’t believe I’m actually doing this. I’ve always wanted to go to one of these.” You squealed looking out at the crisp white ice while you were surrounded by thousands of other people.

Cup of water in hand and popcorn in lap, you’d dressed in thick wool lined jeans , a Flyers jersey, converse, and had your baseball cap to the back in spirit of your first time seeing a Flyers game in person.

Austin laughed and took a sip of the wine he’d gotten. “ I’m glad we’re enjoying ourselves. I keep forgetting you told me you were a little hockey fan. Would have never guessed.”

You laugh, “ Yeah. When I was little my Aunt dated the guy who did the sound at the games for the Blue Jackets so we always got tickets. She’d go and take us up on the weekends and I can remember just always having the best time. Ever since I’ve become quite fond of hockey. The smell of the wet ice when they redo it, the chill of the arena, the way the glass rattles when the players zip by. I love it.”

Austin noticed the way you hadn’t taken your eyes off the ice the entire time you were talking about this little passion of yours. A smile passed his face in satisfaction that he’d learned something new about you. For most of the rest of the time he got more pleasure from watching you watch the game then actually paying attention to what was going on himself.

The way your nose scrunched when a shot was missed, your little squeals when your team regained the puck, and even how you held your own and weren’t afraid to get back with surrounding audience members who may have said something to you out of the way.

This was hockey after all.

By the time halftime rolled around you were content at watching your favorite little segments.

Kid of the game, celeb look alike, and your personal favorite: The Kiss Cam.

The cliche track by Sixpence None The Richer echoed throughout the arena as you watched couples old and young peck each other and giggle for the camera.

It warmed your heart, but what happened next made it drop to your ass and roll onto the ice.

Because suddenly, your face made up in about a million pixels on the big kiss cam screen, there you and your grinning boyfriend were on display for the whole world.

People around you had begun to cheer and you could see Austin’s face was turning a shade of candy apple red.

“ Aus.” You whispered, half covering our face. The encouragement and cheering only grew louder and you felt Austin’s hand come to remove yours from your face. “ Hey. C’mon we can’t let everyone else have all the fun.”

“ Just pretend it’s you and I. Only us. Okay?” He whispered, taking your face into his hands.

You nodded and took a deep breath closing your eyes with a mixture of excitement and nerves pinging through you as your lips connected with his in a sweet little innocent kiss.

The whoops and cheers intensified around you and when you pulled away you saw the wide smile Austin had his arm around your waist and you both waved to the camera one last time.

After you were off Austin wrapped his arms around you, placing a kiss on your head, “ Always wanted to kiss a pretty girl on one of those things. Never thought I’d ever get the guts to do it. Guess dreams come true.“ He laughed.

You could still feel your heart pounding in your chest a bit thinking about how you’d replay that moment in your head for who knew how long to come, “ Yeah. They really do, they really do.”

He placed a kiss on your hand and the both of you returned your attention back to the screen just as an older couple appeared.

Eventually after some shouting, another small bag of popcorn, and twenty autographs from Austin to some fans later, the game was over, the Flyers beat the Rangers, and the two of you happily walked along to the car.

“ Home for a nap. “ Austin suggested.

“ Yes Please.” You yawned, feeling the excitement of the day beginning to catch up with you.

______

Austin’s Brownstone - 8:23pm

“ Well, Good Evening sleepy-head.” Austin greeted your groggy figure as you sat up with a pile of blankets sliding from you.

“ Evening?! “ You yawned while looking around at the dimming sky outside the big bay window in the living room. “ My gosh, babe. How long did you let me sleep? What time is it? Don’t we have reservations? “

You looked over to the loveseat where Austin had his feet propped up with a book in hand.

“ Woah. “ He held up a hand, “ Slow down. Take a breath.”

“ I let you sleep because you needed to rest, Babe. It’s about eight-twenty five right now and I called and canceled the reservations we had because truth be told I’m a little tired too. “

Your bottom lip stuck out and you went to protest but he held up a hand.

“ So, instead I thought maybe you’d want to order in. Your choice. Thai, Italian, Mexican…” He threw out the options. Nothing sounds good.

“ Do you know any good sandwich places? “

______

Forty five minutes and two wrapped hero sandwiches later…

“ Two-truths and one lie go.” You randomly said, reaching for one of his fries.

“ Hmm. Alright. Well, I once shared the same production lot with Beyoncé and met her. “ He began, “ Two, I used to come home every single day in elementary school to eat lunch with my mother, and I once played a sad tree in my acting group’s play when I was younger..”

You threw up your grease ridden hands, “ Automatically I'm gonna assume that the Beyonce thing is unfortunately untrue because I don’t think you would’ve held out on me like that. And I’m almost positive from that picture your sister showed that you were a sad bird in that play. So,I don’t know…maybe the lunch thing. I wouldn’t think an elementary school would let a kid walk home like that? Right? “

Austin smiled, “ Well my dear. Unfortunately this one you’d be wrong because all through elementary school I did in fact have a standing lunch appointment with my mother everyday.” He revealed.

“ Really?! And the school just let you go? “

He nodded, “ Yeah. We started doing it because of how shy I was. I couldn't really make friends at that age because of it, so sometimes it was hard being in school. Everyone knew everyone in town so the walk home and back was a breeze. We always ate P & J’s and watched cartoons or old westerns.” He recalled the fond memories. “ I know with work and other things at the time I’m sure her doing it wasn’t exactly ideal, but she still always made it work.”

Your heart swelled for him as you reached out to rub his shoulder.

“ Awe, Austin, that sounds so sweet. She seemed amazing. “

“ Yeah, she was.” He sighed, “ She really was.”

“ Wish I’d had a mom like that.” You sighed, “ I wish I would have had a mom period. “

As soon as the words left your mouth and you saw the look on Austin’s face, you instantly felt embarrassed.

It wasn’t like Austin didn’t know about your situation, it just wasn’t something that you had in-depth discussed before. And you also really weren’t trying to make this seem about you either. It was just a little slip of word vomit.

You backtracked, “ I mean I do have a Mom. Just, it’s rather I just…have no idea where she is. Sorta…”

Noticing you were about to say more but held yourself back, Austin encouraged you to continue, “ Hey. It’s alright. Tell me.”

“ Okay well. From what I know, my Aunt said after I turned a year my mother wasn’t really around much. Started going out and hanging around with friends all hours of the night, and she just really didn’t seem that interested in Gracie and me anymore. Even disappeared for days at a time.”

“ She left my Dad a note one night. On it she explained that she couldn’t imagine another day of being a mother. Specifically she said that it was draining something out of her that she was afraid she’d never get back. That we’d all be better off without her being there, herself included.”

“ I was only a year and some change and Gracie was almost five. And Dad did the best he could raising two girls by himself. He didn’t date much or anything really. Just was a devoted GM Plant worker and an even more devoted Dad.”

“ A couple years later he found out that she’d remarried, moved to a part of Spain, and had more children. So, he made the decision to go to court and officially file for full custody of us. Which she didn’t contest, naturally.” You continued, “ I don’t think he ever really got over it, unfortunately.”

“ He never talked about her at all. And when he passed away when I was thirteen from congestive heart failure we went to live with our grandmother in Georgia. Gracie graduated and decided to move to Texas to pursue a career in public service. And after graduation I got a scholarship to Arizona State, so my grandmother moved and then decided to travel the world.”

“ If you don’t mind me asking, has she ever tried to reach out? “ Austin questioned.

You nodded, “ Only once. Not to me though.” You clarified.

“ When Gracie got married. Somehow she’d found Gracie’s address and sent a letter. Gracie read it but never responded. And she never told me what the letter said either. Her silent way of still protecting her little sister. I guess.”

“ Would you have wanted to know what it said? “

“ I don't really know. Maybe? Maybe not? “ You answered. “ She wrote it just to Gracie. So, I'm sure there’s a reason for that.”

“ Being honest….” You started feeling your lip begin to quiver and eyes water at the incoming thought. “ I always wondered if I was the reason she left? Like maybe I was hard to take care of or if carrying me did something negative to her. I-I *sniffle* It doesn’t sound like she wanted to leave when she had Gracie, so why after me? Why didn’t she stay? “

Your vision had full on fuzzied out now and your cheeks were slick with tears, turning his head to look at you all Austin could do was feel his heart ache.

He tried to reach out but you instinctively moved away trying to cover your face, “ Don’t. It’s fine.” Your voice cracked.

He frowned, “ No it’s not, babe. You’re upset. My best girl is crying. Nothing is ever fine when my best girl is crying. It’s very far from fine actually.” He fussed moving toward you still.

“ Hey.” He cooed, while reaching over to gently grab you and pull you onto his body, “ Hey. Shhh. It’s okay. Let it out.” He encouraged, rubbing your back and placing a kiss to your head as small sobs still escaped you.

A hand went to your head to hold against him as he offered you all of his love and comfort.

After a while you’d began to settle and quiet at the warm feeling of being enveloped in his arms and calmed by his words. He hated that you were feeling this way. In situations like this it truly made Austin appreciate his mother, he couldn’t have imagined ever having any other maternal experience then what he had. He wished everyone could have had that.

“ Hey, look at me.” He cupped your face and wiped at the tears while you sniffled, “ Anyone would be lucky to have you in their life, sweetheart.”

“ I’m lucky to have you in my life.” He affirmed while making sure your eye contact never broke, tears forming in his. “ You hear me? I love you.”

You nodded, clinging to his shirt, “ I love you too, Austin.”

He smiled, “ Of course. Snot and all.” He teased making you giggle and shriek away from him.

He went to lean over and hand you the tissue box he’d snatched.

“ Now, let’s get into bed. How about a shower and a movie? Any movie you want.”

At this declaration you perked, “ Any movie? “

Now a bit skeptical, Austin still nodded, “ Any movie.”

______

“ Okay, I changed my mind. Any movie but this one.” He groaned.

“ Austin.” You mirrored his groan.

“ Fine.” He mumbled dragging you into his arms as the beginning of Lilo and Stitch played on the screen.

“ You really like this movie, huh? “ Austin chuckled into your headscarf.

“ It’s my favorite! I was obsessed when I was little. I had a lilo and stitch lunch box, bed set, and all kinds of stuff.” You explained.’

“ And have you ever been to Hawaii? “

“ Nu uh. Haven’t gotten around to it. Maybe one day.”

“ Uh huh.” Austin yawned.

Maybe one day real soon…

#daysofourlove #austin butler x reader #austin butler x black reader #austin butler #austin butler fanfic #austin butler imagine

138 notes · View notes

theangelcatalogue · 27 days

Text

୨ৎ ― LET'S CHAT: YANDERE X MEN EVOLUTION X ATOM EVE!DARLING ꩜ .ᐟ

୨୧┇In todays let's chat: We going to talk about a concept and idea that is struck at Abbey mind! (me :3)

୨୧┇Feel free to send me asks about this, reblog, comment, this is the objetive! We are here to chat! And i am here to share this little silly idea

୨୧┇TW: SWEAR, YANDERE MENTIONS, FAMILT ISSUES MENTION, CHEATING MENTION, BAD GRAMMAR, BAD ENGLISH AND MADE BY A MINOR!! PLS TELL ME IF I FORGOT ANYTHING

ARE U HEARING ME??? OK OK OK OK

I ALREADY WATCHED SOME EPS OF INVISIBLE WITH MY DAD (JUST SOME, AFTER THAT I SEARCHED ABOUT IT, SORRY ABOUT MY POOR KNOWLEDGE)

AND GOD I REMEMBER I WAS IN LOVE WITH ATOM EVE SO MUCH (I AM GOING TO WATCH ONLY FOR HER AND MARK I GUESS-) (IF SHE IS ACTUALLY A SHIT CHARACTER I WILL CRY)

And i was watching X Men evolution

Yandere Men evolution X Atom Eve!Reader

Nlg it would be funny for me, because i just KNOW some characters would say that Y/N can't protect herself and is weak (idk how i know) and Y/N is just like " I have God-Like powers... " (IF I REMEMBER WELL CORRECT ME OKAY?? I AM DOING BASED IN WHAT I REMEMBER OF HER-) and they are just " Fuck that, you need me/us "

Also with Yanderes in your back would be hard, you already have problems with your Bf (that is not Mark, not now!) And Family Issues

So more problems in your list

Also you are poweful as fuck-

I don't have so much to say, cause as i said, i don't remember so much of Invincible

But i found a cool concept! I think i am going to watch it since i dind't watched it full, just some eps with my Dad

(Know kinda shit but i am talking more about this)

Credits for the templates/dividers: @luvpngs @anitalenia @silly-mantis-creations (Sorry for the tag-)

(I AM MAKING A CREDITS LIST OK-)

( ALSO OPNIONS ON THE LAYOUT CHANGE? I AM MAKING DIFFERENT TITLES LIKE: ONESHOTS IS GOING TO HAVE ONE TYPE OF TITLE, HCS OTHER, ETC) (IDK IF IS A GOOD IDEA)

31 notes · View notes

heytherejulietx · 2 years

Text

care - eddie munson

↳ summary - reader is on her period, and eddie knows just how to help

↳ a/n - this is my first time writing for eddie so i hope you like it :) requests are open to feel free to send some in

↳ content warning - pms, medication, no season 4 spoilers

↳ word count - 1.7k

↳ just a reminder that reblogs are seriously appreciated as it helps my work get seen by more people! <3

↳ masterlists

@bucky-j-barnes @vintageobx join my tag list

Every bump in the road made her wince, and his thumb swiped over the skin of her thigh in a wordless apology. Eddie wasn’t an amazing driver on the best of days, and usually she didn’t mind, she was used to the rickety old van, but each shudder that rocked the vehicle made her move, and moving hurt her cramps even more. She just wanted to curl up in a ball and go to sleep, but they weren’t back at Eddie’s trailer yet, and she was sure he wouldn’t want to carry her inside, even though he insisted that he would. His fingers drummed against her thigh to the song that was playing, pausing every so often so that he could rub gentle comforts against the skin once more.

Eddie had put on some music in an attempt to distract her - Metallica’s ‘Ride The Lightning’, an album they listened to together a lot - and mumbling along to the lyrics helped distract her a little, but not enough.

“For whom the bell tolls,” She mumbled along. Eddie’s singing was a lot louder than hers, and if it wasn’t for the pain she would have smiled in fondness. “Time marches on, for whom the bell tolls.”

Her eyes were squeezed shut, her head completely tipped back against the headrest, but she could tell when the van had stopped. But even once the engine was off and Eddie had stopped the music, she still didn’t move a muscle.

“I can just stay here,” She mumbled, opening her eyes for the first time to glance at her boyfriend. “Just grab me a blanket.”

“Haha, funny,” His eyes rolled, and he turned to face her fully once he had unbuckled his seatbelt. “C’mon, you’ll feel much better in bed.”

She still didn’t move, so he sighed and got out of the van. For a moment she hoped he really was going inside to grab her a blanket, but instead the passenger door was pulled open and Eddie was leaning against it as he looked at her. His expression was of faux sternness, a bad imitation of a parent attempting to discipline a toddler.

“Out.” He nodded toward the trailer.

Y/N frowned, her bottom lip tugged between her teeth as she glanced between the trailer and then back at Eddie. Her eyebrows scrunched together, and she responded in a much quieter and more vulnerable voice. “I… can’t walk properly.”

Her cheeks were flamed red in embarrassment, and being so raw in front of Eddie had tears tingling along her waterline, as if she wasn’t emotional enough. Her boyfriend was a badass, even then as he leaned against the van door. Hellfire shirt sleeves bunched up, revealing some of his tattoos. And there she was, admitting that her period cramps were so bad that she could barely move.

But Eddie didn’t seem bothered. If anything he looked more concerned; his eyebrows furrowed as he leaned into the van, his hand cupping her cheek. Her eyelids fluttered as his cool rings scraped against her jawline. When he leaned in closer, his lips pressed to her forehead, all she could smell was his musky cologne, and even just that helped her feel a little better.

“Take my hand.” He mumbled against her forehead, dropping another kiss there before he pulled away and ducked into the van a little more to unbuckle her seatbelt for her.

It took a moment to force her legs down from where her heels rested on the dashboard, and a moment longer to turn in her seat so her legs hung out the door, but with one of her hands gripping Eddie’s whilst his free arm wrapped around her waist, she managed to get out of the van with just a wince of pain. Eddie used his foot to kick the van door shut, and didn’t let go of her once as he helped her up the stairs to his trailer. Her hand continued to grip his as he unlocked the door, and she let out a quiet sigh of relief once they were inside and the door was shut. It would only be a few minutes at most until she was curled up in bed.

“You want something to wear?” Eddie asked as he gently sat her on the edge of his bed, and she nodded with a small thankful smile.

She hunched over slightly when Eddie had turned to grab her a shirt, her arms wrapped around her middle to press into her stomach slightly. The pain was almost becoming too much, and she wanted nothing more for it to stop hurting. Even just slightly.

“Here,” She glanced up at her boyfriend when he was back in front of her, and smiled slightly in thanks as he placed a shirt beside her. He looked at her for a moment, his head tilted slightly as he took in her posture, and his eyes softened further. “Do you want some help?”

Her throat was too thick and if she answered vocally then she knew she’d cry, so instead she just nodded and sat up a little more so he could help.

She was so thankful that she had chosen to wear a dress that day because it made it easier for Eddie to help undress her. It had been a choice of pure comfort - it wouldn’t be tight around her belly so she’d be in less pain. Eddie leaned down slightly, and as his fingers gripped the fabric of her dress she gripped his shoulders slightly and sat up just long enough for Eddie to pull the fabric out from under her thighs. He gave her a moment to sit back down properly, a grimace running through her as a sharp wave of pain stabbed her abdomen. She had to pause, and Eddie patiently waited until she raised her arms a moment later to pull the dress up and over her head, letting it drop on the bed beside her. His hands gently smoothed across the skin of her shoulders before he leaned over her again, his fingers fiddling with the clasp of her bra to pull that off of her too only once she had nodded that she wanted it off. Eddie helped her pull his shirt over her head, guiding each arm through the sleeves, before he crouched on the floor in front of her to unlace her shoes.

By the time that he had stood back up in front of her, her clothes in a pile on the floor, the dam had finally broken and tears leaked from the corners of her eyes. It was both because the pain was pretty much unbearable, and because of him. He was being so selfless with her that she couldn’t help but feel overwhelmed. She hadn’t been dressed by somebody else since she was a child, and he had basically taken her fragile self into his own hands to look after. She sniffled quietly, warmed and emotional by his kindness.

Eddie frowned, his palms warm against her cheeks as he cupped her face to swipe her tears away with his thumbs. “Don’t cry, babe,” He leaned down to kiss her, just a gentle touch, but it was still enough to make her feel slightly better. “I’ll grab you some Advil, ‘kay?”

She nodded, and only once he had helped her lay back against the pillows he left the room. It took a moment for her to get comfortable, but she settled with laying on her side, her legs pressed to her stomach as she sniffled quietly into Eddie’s pillow.

After a few minutes Eddie came back in, and she looked up as he walked around the side of the bed to be in front of her. He gently sat on the bed and turned, his hand underneath the side of her neck to gently guide her to sit up slightly. Wordlessly he gently pushed the two Advil capsules past her lips, and lifted a water bottle to her mouth a moment later for her to swallow them. She sighed as he lowered her back against the pillow again, mumbled a quiet thanks, and watched him smile at her before he got up and left again.

Her eyes were closed by the next time he came back in. She heard the distinct click of the curtain rail as he pulled the blinds in his bedroom, before the bed dipped behind her and his warmth was pressed against her back.

“Move your arm.” He pressed a kiss to her ear as something warm slipped underneath her shirt, and she sighed in relief as the familiar comfort of a hot water bottle was pressed against her abdomen, Eddie’s hand holding it in place. His other arm gently tucked underneath the pillow she was laying on, and his arm wrapped around her gently. His fingers were warm as they gently traced a pattern against her neck, and she leaned her head back against his shoulder with a small smile.

“Is that any better?” Eddie murmured against her ear, and she hummed quietly. His hand was keeping just enough pressure of the water bottle against her belly, and it was slowly ebbing away the pain that had been practically choking her for hours.

“Thank you.” Her voice was still a little thick, her eyes wet, but she managed almost a full smile when she felt her boyfriend's lips press a kiss against her neck.

“Anything for you, sweetheart.” He sealed the promise with another brush of his lips against her skin.

A yawn escaped her as she snuggled back further into his warmth, and his grip on her grew a little tighter, more comforting. He continued to press lazy kisses into her skin as she finally managed to relax, and even as the lines between being awake and being asleep behind to blur, he kept his gentle comforts.

“Love you.” The words were mumbled, sleep hanging off of each word.

“I love you too.” His breath fanned out across her neck as he spoke, and her smile grew slightly as she started to fall asleep in his arms.

#not sure how i feel about this but oh well #eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson fic #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x female reader #stranger things #stranger things imagines #stranger things imagine #stranger things fic #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things fluff

1K notes · View notes

tw33k-tucker · 2 months

Text

Doodle requests are open‼️

The series characters I can draw the best(In order) are:

South Park, Eddsworld, Creepypasta, n' SMG4

Just a some things about me(changes/updates so much)

Fictionkin of:

Tweek Tweak

Craig Tucker

Clyde Donovan

Kyle Broflovski

Kenny McCormick

Stan Marsh

Damien Thorn (South Park)

Eric Cartman

Tweek Tweak (Mirai Park)

Gregory House (House M.D.)

Dipper Pines

Bill Cipher (Gravity Falls)

Hunter (TOH)

Michael Afton (FNAF)

Crying Child/Evan Afton (FNAF 4)

Bob

Mr Puzzles

SMG3 (SMG4)

Louise (Bob's Burgers)

Adam

Lucifer

Vox

Husk

Angel Dust (Hazbin hotel)

Sniper

Medic {Pls, istg I'm not insane anymore, I swear😭}

Scout (TF2)

Tord

Tom (Eddsworld)

Kevin (Spooky Month)

Selever (FNF)

Shadow (Sonic, but not sure which specific Sonic yet)

Mannequin_Mark

Gnarpy (Regretavator)

Caine

Jax (TADC)

Jeff T. Killer

BEN Drowned

And Ticci Toby (Creepypasta)

Questioning 1

Therian but not completely comfortable to reveal more then a few of my Theriotypes, those few are a Border Collie, Island Fox, Clouded leopard, Red Panda, Some kind of Shark, and an Opossum

He/Him (Trans FTM/Masc)

13 !! :D

Christan (but excepts any religion)

Favorite Animal is Guinea pigs

2nd favorite drink is coffee (My #1 favorite drink is water cause I need it to survive)

Top 5 Favorite songs:

1st: I / Me / Myself(demo) - Will Wood

2nd: Cooler Than Me - Ethan Fields

3rd: Boys Don't Cry - The Cure

4th: Bad Habit - Steve Lacy

5th: Cupid's Chokehold / Breakfast In America - Gym Class Heros

(it was top 10 before, but I'm to lazy for that crap)

A few last random shit facts 'bout me

I am very scared of alarms(Like, fire alarms)

I have Trypophobia aka fear of holes(it's very bad)

I have a love hate relationship with insects

I'm AroAce and BI

Wolverine is my all-time favorite hero(I don't care that he's technically an anti-hero/also an X-Men, he's the best)

Black and Red are my favorite colors

HTTYD is my favorite movie series

I love Scooby Doo(Especially Mystery Incorporated)

I am a mix of Introverted and Extroverted

I swear I wanna cry when stuff I've been waiting for is altered(Don't ask, I have no idea why)

I have anxiety

I freak out VERY easily

Salamanders are so cool istg

I have sensitive ears so I hate loud noises(I think I'm just a wimp)

I was in a car crash when I was 8(Luckily me and my dad were fine)

I like Diary of a wimpy kid

I have an older brother that I fight with(Imagine Rodrick and Greg's rivalry)

Some noises also make me want to bawl my eyes out(Also don't ask why, I seriously don't know)

I will 'kill' you if you look in my sketchbook(I swear you do not wanna see it, like really, you do NOT)

I have social anxiety👍

I'm seriously fucked up in the brain

I have OCD and BPD

And I have a Spotify by the name Craig-F#cker 👍

And also i've decided to make tags because it is so annoying trying to find certain posts. So: the art tag is #Tw33k Draws the ask tag is #Tw33k Answers and I also use #Tw33k Rambles when I'm just talking and then as well theres just the #Shitpost tag on the posts I post that have words or images that isn't art, I also don't add tags to like any of the stuff I reblog unless I'm talking in the tags

And yeah, that's all I'm willing to tell

Also please don't hate me, I can't control who I am

Thanks for reading

Random Icons :D

Okay! One last thing, sense I have started the Zombie Park series, you can ask them questions about litterly ANYTHING some stuff they might not be allowed to answer at the moment like some stuff that'll happen in the future, but if you have any questions about the AU feel free to ask

#Intro #Fictionkin #Therian

28 notes · View notes

storythesilly · 4 months

Text

into (please read)

heya, im story. or adam. or colin. (spelled either colin or collin i don't care) im gay + asexual, i use they/he/xe/silly/moon, and i am a MINOR!!!!! also im sex repulsed. im demiromantic but still PLEASE DON'T TALK TO ME ABOUT ROMANCE DIRECTED TOWARDS ME IT MAKES ME FEEL YUCKY. Tw for suicide mention but I have trauma related to December 16th so. Maybe I won't be active every December 16th idk. or maybe ill need help getting over being told to

kill myself on december 16th 2022 idk

nsfw, proship, kink/fetish blogs, pedo, zoos, zionist, homophobic, terf, anti-furry, dni. get away. you're yucky. DNI VORE IN GENERAL. I DON'T CARE IF ITS SFW. I'VE SEEN SOME SHIT. btw im atheist and someone has tried to convert me to christianity. fuck you if you do that to me. also don't hate satanists here!! id most likely be satanist so. don't hate them. if i refer to a character as my child then don't comment on it. it's affectionate and i might just. do that with characters like lampert or arts and crafters. same if i refer to them as my boyfriend or husband. if you use my art as a pfp, banner or anything else, give me credit pleasey. no more commissions from untrusted people. my friends / mutuals can commission me for free though. all commissions are free btw.

---------------------------------------------------

STUFF TO NOT TALK TO ME ABOUT!!!!

don't talk to me about the amazing digital circus, warrior cats, hazbin hotel (kinda,) or helluva boss. trauma n shit.

---------------------------------------------------

Uh.

im a system consisting of 3 alters so far i think. host is adam. other two are purple (pftg) and blackyear (byatr/byat/batr/bat). collective they/them, host, you already saw, purple uses any/all and blackyear uses he/him. ALSO I DONT LIKE USING WE/US SORRY.... Also keep in mind that the only adult is Purple. And none of us like people being weird around us... (sad i had to use we/us it makes me feel uncomfy using we/us)

---------------------------------------------------

INTERESTS!!!! (Purple = ILY YOU'RE SO COOL)

Baldi's Basics in Education and Learning

Dave's Fun Algebra Class

Garrett's Funny Animal Game

Carl's Dwindling Game

Dane's Dinning Game

Cayden's Mods and Edits/ThatCoolModderGuy's Basics in Mods and Edits

Alex Basics in Biology and Zoology + Advanced Education with Viktor Strobovski

Billy's Basic Educational Game

Captain's Basic Adventure in a Broken Underwater Ship

Denied's Basics

Sticky in: Fun With Numbers!

Professor Whatshisname's Science Learning Game

Purple's Fun Trivia Game (i have a massive obsession with this guy it's not even funny)

Juan's Tower of Tomfoolery

+ Most of BBAU!!

Splatoon

Pokémon

Regretavator

Object Shows

and more...

---------------------------------------------------

TAGS!!

Art tag -> #story's fuckass sillies

Mentions of Purple's Fun Trivia Game -> #purple posting #pftg posting

---------------------------------------------------

Xtra ztuff...

I'm transmasc.

I have anxiety, and most likely autism or ADHD.

I use tone tags.

My mental health is NOT good. Expect venting from time to time.

Also. A lot of trauma. Yeah.

I have issues with speaking and stuff...

I'm partially a scenekid, but I can't read 8s, 2s, 5s and 4s as letters. Be patient.

Sometimes I use the z typing quirk. Sorry if you use a screen reader.

if you give me a like or a reblog I'll check your account to see if it's sfw. if i like the content i'll follow. don't be scared if you see me follow you it's normal

---------------------------------------------------

SIDEBLOGS I'LL SHARE

I have A LOT of sideblogs, but here are the ones I'll share. Yes I own these. Woah.

@storys-alt

@ask-lampert

@ask-staticschoolhouse

@totally-real-scholastic ( https://www.tumblr.com/totally-real-scholastic?source=share )

@garretts-funny-askblog

@ask-the-schoolplace ( https://www.tumblr.com/ask-the-schoolplace?source=share )

---------------------------------------------------

Xtra...

BlackYear made his own account when I was asleep. Uh. @blackyears-stuff

(i tag things as #blackyear ramblinggg and #🎨 if he's talking or something.) anyways

#story's fuckass sillies #purpleposting #pftgposting

32 notes · View notes

honeyhotteoks · 11 months

Text

i'm just...... going to rant under the cut for a minute because people have been on my last nerve today BUT for all of you lovely readers of TNT who are kind and wonderful, i want you to know i wrote basically all day today and i'm making progress on more!!

anyways ranting under the cut...

tw - discussion about homophobia/rude comments etc.

so i received a pretty aggressive anon message earlier about the sanhwa scene in TNT... and i already deleted it because honestly i found it fairly offensive, but to that anon if you're reading this.... not cool. i understand that not all people are into m/m fic... but telling me it was ruining the fic and that i should have been clearer about tagging and warnings? it's genuinely been bothering me all day and kind of offending me. i write m/m pairings as part of my work all the time - you can see it in aurora, and definitely in my husbands series (fucking obviously).... and it's going to keep happening.

while i would never assume the real members sexualities (it's obviously none of our business), these are fictional characters and representations. they can be whatever i want them to be IN FICTION. if that offends you or troubles you or isn't sending the plot in the way you want, go find something else to read.

i also should not have to mark an m/m relationship in a fic with the same severity as a trigger warning. it isn't triggering, it's a relationship pairing. if you prefer other pairings, go elsewhere, but don't expect me to bend over backwards in my work on my blog to make queerness palatable for you.

this combined with some frankly rude messages on ao3 are just doing me in today. i understand that not everyone wanted to go down the woosanhwa road, but i wrote this fic for me and that's what i wanted. their relationship is meant as an intentional foil for yungi, the heats are supposed to be starkly different to help the MC understand herself and her feelings. y/n isn't perfect nor are any of the other characters and that's the fun of it. if you just want smut, find one-shots to read.

i just want to remind people that if you're writing comments on ao3, putting comments in your tumblr reblogs, etc., the author is going to read them!! be kind. if you don't like something, stop reading. your constructive criticism / helpful suggestions aren't necessary, they're rude. i'm not a published author, i'm a random on the internet posting fic for free, i don't want or need your negativity or your supposed help. you need to get a hobby or try writing something yourself.

anyways that's it. i'm kind of shocked at how negative a few of y'all have been given how overwhelmingly kind and positive everyone else has been. but i'm beyond shocked at the thinly veiled homophobia in my ask box earlier. what you said you said to a queer person and it hurt, and very quietly i'd like to ask you to do better and to not message me like that ever again.

i'm going to go back to writing now. and if there's a wild gay makeout session later in this fic, it's fucking dedicated to you.

79 notes · View notes

russellsppttemplates · 5 months

Text

Uh oh, I'm falling in love (Lando Norris)

Y/N and Lando both have jobs that require good sight and attention to detail and yet they're oblivious to their feelings for eachother

Note: english is not my first language. I'm in a very fluffy mood, so I got really excited when I got this request! This also makes my expectations even higher and calls me single in about seventeen different languages at once...

my masterlist

Tw: mentions a needle (for sewing)

Tag list: @myloverjk-blog

"Hey guys! How's everyone?", Max said to the camera as you made sure the set up was right, the screen showing his and Lando's faces on one screen and the table on the other like it was supposed to.

"As per your many, many requests, we have brought our graphic designer at Quadrant, Y/N", Lando announced as you appeared on camera, sending a very awkward first wave to the camera, "today's stream is little different than our usual programming, but it was the only way she agreed to be in one! You guys really wanted to see her, so we had to be creative!", Max said as he moved the friendship bracelets making kit into view on the table.

"Hey, Queen Taylor said we should make the friendship bracelets, so we're just following her!", you chuckled, looking at all the coloured threads and colourful beads, sorting them out and grabbing a pen and paper so you could draw your ideas.

"Since you guys wanted to get to know Y/N, can I tell them to send in questions?", Lando questioned you, "sure, I'll answer them to the best of mu ability", you smiled.

You were picking the letters you needed for the bracelet you were making when Max spoke up, "first one: how did you start working with Quadrant? I'd love to work on the team when I finish my degree!".

"I saw the job offer, and I must admit at first I didn't really know much about the company. I looked it up, looked cool enough and I sent my CV and portfolio in. So keep your eyes peeled for any offers, I guess? We have them now on the website, which was my doing, so you can check them out there if you want to be part of the team", you offered.

"I need help, guys", Lando said as he fiddled with his bracelet, the orange and grey beads with his initials sliding on the elasticated material, I can't do the closing knot on my own", he pouted as you placed your bracelet down.

"You have to flip it like this, here. Just put it on your wrist and I'll do the rest", you ushered him, your fingertips gingerly touching his hand and wrist as you quietly laced it, "this way we don't get frilly bits out and it looks pretty, see? Pretty!", you smiled, modelling his wrist for the camera.

Pretty, that's what he often thought about you. Not only pretty, but it was one of the first physical traits that came to mind.

"We should all have matching ones!", Max said as he completed his bracelet, impressively on his own, revealing the colourful beads with Quadrant spelled in white round beads with black letters, "I'll make one for each of you", he said as he watched you show your own, pink beads and a lyric he assumed was from a Taylor Swift song.

"I'll make Y/N's, she helped me after all", Lando said as one brave fan sent a comment into the chat.

He's so giddy to make Y/N a bracelet, it's a shame it will snap because of his lack of skills

Am I delusional if I say that they'd make a great couple?

If you're delusional, then what do I call myself? I still think they're making heart eyes at eachother whenever they catch the slightest glimpse!

We're joining forces, I think it's a noble pursuit!

He's a dork, Y/N, but you should give him a chance

Have you always known you wanted to be a graphic designer?

"I thought about different careers before I settled on this one, for now at least", you explained, "engineering was in the running up, but then I figured out that I was curious about how things worked, but that didn't mean that I wanted to be the one working on it. And this was a way to express my creativity, my strategy planning as well, and at the moment it's been quite good", you smiled as Lando grabbed your wrist softly, "I need to make sure this fits", he interrupted, "and it won't snap because I've learnt how to do it, thank you very much", he blushed. So he, too, was reading the comments, choosing not to dwell in them.

"Look, this way you always have a lucky charm with you everywhere you go, even if we're not together. We're eachothers lucky charms!", Lando announced as Max mafe a fake gagging noise.

"Are you all ready?", you said as you and Tara walked inside the room, clasping your watch on your wrist and hoping to find the boys ready.

Quadrant had been invited to a gala dinner that celebrated the companies in the same line of business, inviting five people to take part in the meal. After some team members politely declining the invitation since they had things booked already, the group ended up being Lando, Max, Callum, Tara and yourself.

The dress required everyone to up their usual style, hence the long dress you were wearing. Even though it was far from your usual everyday attire, you felt beautiful in the dress you ended up with after browsing the online shops for a while. The cut was simple, the skirt widening from your waist down and complimenting your curves as the sheen from the midnight blue fabric looked soft and sweet against your skin.

Lando seemed to think the same, trying his best to not let his mouth hang open when you and Tara walked inside their room, heels clicking on the wooden floor as you hurried them, "does it really take that long to put on a suit? I had to help Tara with the laces on her back and we still got ready faster than the three of you?", you asked, shaking your wrist to check if the dainty watch wasn't going to fall and that it wasn't too tight either.

Looking up to meet Lando's eyes, you were sure you physically and audibly gulped. No one should look that good in a plain white shirt. The cuffs were still unbuttoned, but the shirt itself was tucked in his black pants. He didn't have any jewellery, so his tanned skin caught your eye as it contrasted with his clothes.

"Lando has a problem with his shirt and we are trying to solve it", Max said, a little bit too antsy given that, at the naked eye, there didn't seem to be a big issue with the piece of clothing you had been inspecting quite closely.

"There was a loose button, and I tried to fix it, but I made it worse", Lando said as he pointed to the button on his hand, the slight movement showing you the place where it was supposed to he holding the piece together and closed.

"Three people in this room and no one thought about grabbing the sewing kit from the amenities?", Tara suggested, looking for it in the box that was the same as it was in your room, "see? Simple as that! Can you sew it, Y/N? My hand isn't fully healed yet, I can't quite grasp something that small yet".

Tara had injured herself earlier on in the week, prompting her to ask to tag out of the gala until you pleaded her to go so you wouldn't be alone, so she couldn't do it. None of the other guys seemed to even know how to pull the thread through the needle, so you grabbed the kit from Tara's hand, "sure, I'll do it", you said, "if that's okay with you, that is", you looked over at Lando.

"Sure, anything to solve this. Do I keep it on or should I take it off?", he questioned, wanting to slap himself straight after at his offer. Why would he volunteer to be shirtless in front of you? It certainly wasn't the way to go, shoving himself like that.

"On should be fine", you muttered, missing the snickers going on behind you as you wet the thread with your tongue, careful to not transfer any of the lipstick on it and ruining the piece without point of return for good, easily looping it through and adjusting the size of the ends.

"Button", you put your hand out so Lando could place it in your fingers, "I will do my best not to poke you, let me know if I do so accidentally", you mumbled at the closeness to him you found yourself in. It was the third button from the top, and as much as you loved the sight of the shirt slightly undone, the dinner required his shirt to be done up. Looping the thread on the button a few times, you moved to pierce the crisp white fabric so it would be secure, your hands dangerously close to his skin as you could hear his laboured breath. Lando still remembered and thought constantly about your fingers touching his hand and wrist when you did the friendship bracelets video for the YouTube channel, and right now, it only added to his predicament.

"It's done, all good!", you exclaimed, looking up as you cut the thread and seeing Lando's eyes on you. The intensity nearly threw you off of your balance as you stood the tiniest bit crouched down on your high heels.

Scrambling to further the distance between your bodies, you smoothed out the non existent wrinkles on your dress, storing the supplies back in the kit as Lando managed to utter out a thank you, too stunned and intoxicated by your scent to say anything else.

"I sewed a button as neither of you look any more ready that you were when we got here? We're going to be late!", you hurried, sitting next to Tara and ignoring her smirk as you scrolled through your phone.

"That shoot will have to wait since Lando won't be back here soon, then", you said, moving things around in the online shared calendar, "when did you say you could again? I'm sorry", you asked, rubbing your forehead and squeezing your eyes, adjusting your glasses and looking at him through the screen.

"The first weekend of the next month", Lando assured, "are you okay, Y/N?", he asked. The bags under your eyes didn't fool anyone and you looked tired. And sick, he guessed by the layers of clothing you had on.

"I had a pretty shit day, actually", you admitted, "I had to go with the guys from storage because there was an issue. The supplier sent the samples and we wanted to get things moving so I could have some ideas for the description and the social media team also wanted to prep the draft for the whole story telling, but it all went under. I also think I caught some bug, so it's been a fun day", you exaggeratingly smiled, mocking your own misery.

"You look like you need a hug, Y/N. Do you need a hug?", Lando asked as you nodded, "Actually, that would be pretty good, but I live alone. The neighbours would think I'm pretty weird if I went around like this asking for one, too", you reasoned.

Even though he wasn't next to you, Lando still managed to pull a smile out of you as he got up from the chair he was sitting in, hugging his laptop, "did you feel that hug?", he loudly wondered, "it's full of Get well soon fairy dust!", he smiled charmingly.

"Fairy dust, mate?", Callum wondered, reminding you of his presence in the videocall, "you try and spend more than a few hours with a little girl and you let me know. Mila has taught me all about fairy dust and princess magic", Lando added.

"How will we get out of here?", you wondered, starting to regret joining Lando, Max and Pietra when they said they were going to watch a football game. You loved the sport and you figured it would be a nice distraction after a work loaded week, but now, things were looking less than a distraction.

"We will let them space out once the game finishes, free up the roads as well because getting out of here will be a pain, too", Lando suggested.

The game granted your team a win and three points in the championship, the crowd going wild as they clapped, whistled and waved their scarfs, slowly leaving the stadium.

"Should we make a run for it now?", Pietra said, holding her boyfriend's hand as she allowed him to pull her away.

You followed Lando, thanking his choice of a colourful hoodie to wear today as it made it easier for you to spot him, "go in front of me, I'll back you up", he switched positions. You weren't having too much trouble until you were met with a ramp, people carelessly shoving others as they tried to leave as quick as they could, all with the same intent of avoiding traffic and crowded roads.

"Here, Y/N", you heard Lando as he grabbed your hand, lacing your fingers in his and pulling you along, excusing you two as you approached Max and Pietra again, "we're here", you tapped the blonde woman's shoulder with your free hand.

"Goodness, that was and adventure", she said once you reached the stadium car park, the crowd clearing up significantly as there was maybe another ten people headed the same way as you were now, "is everyone alright? I think someone stepped on my foot quite a few times, or many people stepped on it at various different times", you reasoned, walking alongside Lando still.

"Don't we need to hand the bracelets back?", Max said as he looked at the sign, taking his bracelet off and depositing it in the box in the booth, Pietra doing the same as you seemed distracted.

"Are you okay, Y/N?", Max asked, seeing you and Lando were still holding hands and, because of that, not taking off your bracelets.

"Yes, why wouldn't I be?", you scrunched your eyebrows, "we need to hand the bracelets back in, so I kind of need to have yours, too", he teased, looking at your hand still entwined with Lando's.

Removing your hand from Lando's as if it har started burning all of a sudden, you removed the bracelet, apologising quietly to the stadium employee as you thanked him, "shall we go now?".

"Dinner out?", Lando gulped, getting into the driver's seat, "Good idea, yes", Max added, sitting in the passenger's seat as you and Pietra sat in the back, your hand rubbing your other hand that had been laced with Lando's own one for a long time. Uh oh, you were falling in love.

The launch was finally over after an amazing response from the fans, leaving your heart happy and warm with a sense of mission accomplished.

"Is everything packed into the van?", you asked Tara, "yes, it's just this box. It has fragile things, so do you think you guys can take it in the car with you? It probably only fits at the front, so you'll have to squeeze in with the boys on the back", she smiled apologetically, "it's fine, we'll keep eachother warm like penguins do", you chuckled, holding the door open as she set the box safely.

Saying goodbye to her and the rest of the team, Max and Lando joined you, "You sit in the middle seat", Max pointed at you, opening the door ao you could scoot closer to Lando and he could get in.

"Could you tell me how long we have until get back?", Lando asked the driver, "with traffic at this hour, I'd say around 90 minutes", he smiled, turning on the blinker so he could leave the car park.

"Plenty of time for me to catch up on sleep, then!", you cheered, making yourself comfortable in the space you had, folding your scarf into an impromptu travel pillow, closing your eyes.

"Are you a snorer?", Max asked, making you blindly swat his thigh, "only when I'm sick, and lucky for you, I'm in presteen health, no blocked nose", you grumbled.

It didn't take you long to fall asleep. In the last week, all of the nights combined, you probably slept less than thirty hours, so your body was indeed in need of rest.

"And there it goes", Max said as your pillow undid itself, Lando lifting his shoulder in reflex so your head wouldn't drop drastically, landing on top of him, "Good thing she isn't our engineer, hm?", he chuckled, looking at how his bestfriend was looking at you like you hung the stars and the moon.

"I think I'm in love with Y/N", Lando whispered after he took your appearance in. You had forgone wearing make-up today, so he could see all your moles and scars, your pouty lips and the darkened skin under your eyes. It took everything in him to not bend down and kiss your forehead.

"Congrats on being the last one to find out, mate", Max added, shaking his head, "I genuinely thought you had some issue processing information, I'm glad to find out you don't.

"Now you just have to act on it, which is going to take you, what? Two, three more months?".

#lando norris imagine #lando norris fluff #lando norris fanfic #lando norris x reader #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #f1 fanfic #f1 fluff

795 notes · View notes

i-am-an-arson-enthusiast · 10 months

Text

Here at i-am-an-arson-enthusiast, we i am dedicated to bringing you top quality content such as but not limited to: gay things, cats, and even live arson that you don't even have to tune into!!

hi this is my intro post :D

basic questions that i love answering

“hey what should i call you” good question. i dont really care, most of my mutuals call me arson. thats cool. bc i love arson. (clearly) but you can call me really whatever. planet names are dope as shit, but only @marcysbear gets to call me neptune. also enthu is off limits, only @terrifying-acceptance gets to call me that.

for the record: if you call me either of those names and are not either of them, that is crossing a genuine boundary of mine. you ARE NOT allowed to call me those names if you are not the designated person for that.

“ur gay” woah really i didnt know that ur like the first person ever to notice that!! (no ur not, ive known that for years)

“what type of gay” yes. the easiest way to explain it is bisexual. that being said: i use bisexual surprizingly little. i call myself lesbian and gay all the time (as in wlw and mlm).i’m polyamorous and arospec. month three of my identity crisis: uh i think the term arospec works well bc idk where the fuck i am on it but i’m definetly on this spectrum! grayromantic also works i think.

“gender????” im genderfluid. which explains the pronoun changes. im also trans, nb, genderqueer, and any of the genders and terms i need to articulate what the silly lil dudes in my head make me feel.

AUDHD :D explains why i am obsessed with space (going back to names planet names are cool and epic btw)

“do u horny post on main???” i reblog horny posts to my main but i dont normally do the original horny posting. tell me if i need to tw that btw :3

my cool and epic tags

i try to consistanly use them but sometimes i dont. sorry.

woah i’m using queue - i’m actually queuing a post for once instead of spam reblogging (which i mostly do sorry not sorry)

woah a real text post - me positing an actual text post for once but it’s becoming more common

cool ass art - art that i reblog (it’s all cool)

arson does half way decent art sometimes - my art. art i made. yea

the beloved - my beautiful beautiful queer platonic partner @terrifying-acceptance who i tag in a lot of shit :]

i will keep adding more as i remember them and make them so yea :D also i try to tag for things but i often dont add tw or cw because. idk. just havent ever done that. if you need me too you can tell me in any form and ill try my gaddamn hardest to add them. feel free to *kindly* remind me if i forgot. (as in no verbal abuse ya know. if ur scared ur probably fine)

the last section that is mostly important for followers :]

if u wanna follow me it’d be cool if you have a banner and pfp but as long as ur like not a bot ur good.

feel free to ask questions :) this is the point at which i tell you that i love getting asks and dms. my dms are always open unless i am dead. (current status: alive at very least.) also i am in school so you are practically guaranteed to get a response not immediately. give me 12-24 hours to respond before being offended. after that it’s fair game.

I genuinely do not care and give no fucks about what you believe and how you live your life as long as you dont hurt yourself or others, you are not offended by me being very not religious/spiritual and you do not shove it down anyones throat.

I mostly do reblogs and tag them as such half the time

lastly if you interact with this post it lets me know that you read it but i’m gonna look at your profile anyway if u follow me so you don’t have to.

thank you for reading all of that i know it’s long. your cool so here’s a cookie 🍪 also here have this

credit to @v-4-l-0-n and @theprideful :)

(order of the banners are ��exclusionists fuck off”, then this user loves being a lesbian, gay, bisexual, trans, genderfluid, then non binary)

#queer #intro post #uhhhh #yeah #long posts #holy shit

74 notes · View notes

missmaywemeetagain · 1 year

Text

Broken Glass Chapter 6 (Elvis/Austin!Elvis x OC Reader)

Character/Fandom: Elvis Presley - Elvis (2022)

Read More Here - Broken Glass Masterlist! 💔🥂❤️‍🩹

TW: Some SMUT (HUZZAH! finally! but it's not what you think, sorry 😇). Anita. Angst. Grief. Temper tantrums/angry E. Some small/little/subby!e & caretaker!Lori. Some historical inaccuracies.

Tags: Fake relationship. Slow burn. Angst. (Sort of) enemies to lovers. Hurt/Comfort.

Rating: Mature/NSFW, 18+, so minors Do NOT Interact || Word Count: 10.9k

A/N: Lord have freakin' mercy, I'm sorry this took so damn long, but the next chapter is FINALLY HERE! For a variety of reasons, this was a doozy for me to get through, so thanks for your patience. ❤️ It's a bit of a rollercoaster of ALL THE THINGS. You want some smut, it's there! Tropes? You got it! Every emotion under the sun? Yep! It is messy? In more ways than one...😏 You've been warned. (And let me know what you think!!)

And thank you SO MUCH for the encouraging comments and support coming in about this work. I was really afraid no one was interested in this one because it's such a slow burn, but y'all are giving it some love and that makes my heart sing! ❤️ Thank you for continuing to reblog, like, comment, and ask! FYI the taglist is being WEIRD and I don't know why so I'm sorry if you don't get tagged and should be!!

Feel free to visit my Wattpad or AO3, if you prefer those reading experiences! xoxoxo

He can’t stop thinking about you.

It’s annoying, really, considering all he’s got to focus on right now. Smiling for the crowds. Getting home. Interviews and pictures. Staying upright. Breathing.

Elvis closes his eyes and immediately thinks about the way your fingers splayed through his hair.

Stop it.

Your thumb catching his lower lip.

This isn’t the time.

Oh, it most certainly is not. He’s finally a stone’s throw from home, working his way through the waiting crowd at the train station, trying to ignore the way his heart is racing and his breath short.

Your hand presses his lower back, urging him forward.

He swears you have some sort of sixth sense in regard to how he’s feeling, or maybe you are really just that good at your job. Unfortunately, all he can think about is the warmth of your body pressed against him and the cool touch of your soft lips on his.

More than likely, you are just a distraction from how emotional he’s feeling. Being back in Memphis, as unusually cold and snowy as it happens to be, has him some kind of way. Perhaps it is the presence of his hometown fans. Maybe it’s the kindness of Gary Pepper, the young man with cerebral palsy that heads one of his fan clubs, when he says that he’s sorry there aren’t more people to greet him—"It’s a school day, after all.”

Biting his lip, Elvis fears he’s noticeably choked up at that. “I’ll see ya later, pal,” he manages to get out and makes note to find some way to thank the man properly in the future. It’s a testament to people like Gary that he still has fans at all after being away for two years. None of this was promised, neither is it continued to be.

Elvis wonders if he deserves it.

As overwhelmed by the crowds as you’ve been so far, it shocks him when you break ranks to kneel down and introduce yourself to Gary. There is a caring kindness about you in that moment that threatens to break his heart and he’s not sure exactly why. It strikes him that it’s because you have been so walled off behind that tower you’ve built around yourself and for the second time in the last 24 hours, he’s gotten a glimpse of who you might truly be on the other side of it.

And he has the strangest feeling that he is the prodigal prince returning home from a far-off land, with you, his new princess, already tending to his subjects as if they were her own.

A shuddering breath rolls through him at that.

Once again, you notice, shooting him a veiled look of concern. Saying your goodbyes to Gary, you grab Elvis’ hand and press along. You squeeze and he feels like crying all over again.

Get it together, Presley.

He breathes and continues forward, smiling away the feelings that threaten to consume him whole. Bright and cheerful, he plasters a grin across his face as they finally make it to Captain Woodward’s police cruiser. Your hand releases his and he suddenly loathes the fact that he’s pushed into the front seat (Better for the pictures, son, he hears the Colonel say).

But he keeps smiling and waving as they pull away. The truth is, he is happy to be home, it’s just clouded by the unease of the last few days and the fact that he might be goddamn dying. Not to mention the part where he’s not exactly sure what his place in the world is now.

And thirty minutes later, when they roar through the iron music gates, his colonial mansion coming into view for the first time in 18 months, his heart pounds.

Home.

It’s just family and close friends now, which has him sighing with relief as he hugs and kisses them all, yet a tension pulls in his chest. He realizes it’s because one very important person is missing.

Elvis had done a valiant job the past year and a half making sure that he stuffed down his grief in all the right moments and only let it out in lonely hours in the middle of the night. He was too damn sensitive for his own good, and God knows there was no room for that in the US Army, not if he wanted to fit in. So, instead he filled his days with maneuvers and his evenings with music and his nights with getting his dick wet, and there wasn’t much time in between to ponder much else.

But now that he’s here, and she most certainly is not, his mama’s absence hits him with the force of a freight train. A sob threatens to escape, his throat closing around it to keep it at bay, and it feels as though the wind is knocked out of him. Every ounce of exhaustion from the last week seems to close in on him all at once, and the only person who could truly soothe him is dead and gone.

The gentle press of your hand against the small of his back has him blinking and turning to you. He almost forgot your presence in the chaos, which he knows is incredibly rude of him because you are in a strange place with strange people, but somehow, once again, you just seem to know he’s not okay.

He needs space. He needs to breathe. He needs to get his shit together because this day is far from over and he’s already spent.

“Y’all, y’all, I need a minute to get ready for the onslaught of reporters that are on their way. We’ll pick this up tonight!” he shares loudly. “Lemme give you the grand tour,” he then whispers to you, taking your hand and yanking you past the white columns and into the house.

The smell hits him first. It’s familiar, yet there is something stale about it. Truth be told, he hadn’t lived here long before he was drafted, but it’s the house that called to him, the one meant for his mama. And now that he’s back, he feels certain she’ll reappear the moment he opens a door or rounds a corner.

Your eyes grow wider with every room as he pulls you through hallways and up and down stairs. His speech is as rapid as his tour, and he doesn’t fully stop until he’s in front of his mother’s room, the one he requested remain untouched until he got home. But now that he’s faced with it, he cannot open the door. He falls into a paralyzed silence.

“Elvis?” you ask quietly. “Are you alright?”

After a moment, he clears his throat. “Um, I...this is—was—my mother’s room.”

You pause, then nod. “I know it’s little more than words, but I am so sorry,” you say, squeezing his hand. It prompts him to look at you, and he finds your gaze knowingly, openly solemn. The look of someone who understands loss.

He does little more than tilt his head at you in question, and you sigh deeply in response, as if gathering strength. He knows that sigh, too.

“My mother died when I was fourteen,” you finally speak, “and she was…my everything.”

Fourteen? Dear God. He thought losing mama at 23 was awful, but he has no idea who he’d even be if she’d been gone at fourteen. The weight of just the thought feels impossible.

“Oh, honey,” Elvis manages to get out and suddenly he understands so much more about you, about those walls you keep around yourself. He wants to weep for you.

You shake your head. “It is what it is,” you say, trying to brush away obvious emotion. “I just want to let you know…I understand, is all.”

“Thank you,” he says, squeezing your hand back.

“Is it the same? Her room, I mean?” you ask suddenly.

He’s surprised by the question but nods.

“That’s nice. I mean…it’s nice that you still have some of her here,” you say in a faraway voice, looking at the closed door.

It’s a strange thing to say, and you seem to realize it the moment it’s out of your mouth.

“I’m sorry, that’s…I just…my father got rid of all my mother’s things within days of her passing. I only have a few small things of hers that I managed to steal away before he wiped her existence from our house,” you say so quietly it’s almost a whisper, a lingering bitterness in your tone.

“Little bird…” he starts, but then falters at what to say. His heart aches for you as much as it does for himself, and he feels an anger towards your father that feels awfully similar to the anger at his own when Vernon shacked up with Dee not months after his mother’s death.

A father’s betrayal is no small thing.

It makes more sense to him now why a such a young girl would throw herself into her work and schooling as you have. There’s an inkling of understanding as to why you dropped your entire life on a dime to come work for him when you don’t even care for his music or his fame. But something tells him there’s much more to your story than this tragedy, though by the way you shake your head and shutter off those pesky emotions, he guesses he won’t learn more today.

“What’s next?” you ask, your face now a picture of calm.

“The bedroom,” he says, wiggling his eyebrows to lighten the mood.

Your scoff and eye roll tells him he’s on the right track.

His door is open when they reach the suite, he’s guessing to air it out for his return. He ushers you in quickly, then shuts the door behind him. The plush, dark décor instantly comforts him, the sound proofing of the room shutting out the hustle and bustle downstairs. He can’t help the sigh of relief that leaves his lips.

Suddenly, he can’t get out of his dress uniform fast enough. It’s strangling him. He wrestles out of the jacket, stripping himself of the shirt and tie just as quickly, leaving him in his white undershirt and pants.

“I take it you’re done with the uniform?” you say with a touch of sarcasm and a raise of your brow.

“I’d burn it if I could,” he replies with a snort, “but I gotta wear the damn thing for the Sinatra show in a few weeks.”

You hum and nod. “How are you feeling? Let’s take your vitals,” you say, gesturing to the edge of the bed, and turning round to look for something. You find it in a pile of suitcases left near the door, which must have been brought up while he was giving you the tour.

“Exhausted. Wired,” he answers, flopping on the bed. Oh, how he’s missed his own bed.

“Well, you should get some rest. It’s been a very long few days.” He sits up when you come in close in that serious way you do when it’s time to do your job. His heart begins to race. Faint hints of rose water and jasmine fill his nostrils as you bend down towards him with all your tools in tow. It’s part of the scent that he’s learning is distinctly you and it has him flashing back to holding you close back on the train. When your head leans close to secure the blood pressure cuff, he can almost feel again the way his lips brushed over your skin, how they pressed into your lips…

The thought has him breathless now that he has you in his bedroom.

Elvis shakes the thought away because he shouldn’t be thinking about you like that at all. It was just a rehearsal, a way to get you more comfortable around him, and it had worked. You hadn’t jerked away from him all day and even seemed to tolerate his presence somewhat pleasantly. Or at least without outward distain. He wasn’t about to screw up your progress by having actual feelings towards you. Because that would be ridiculous.

Too bad his body isn’t getting the memo.

“Your pulse and blood pressure are higher than I’d like,” you tsk down at him, “and you seem a little out of breath.”

Case in point.

“You need to rest, Elvis.” You turn away, unknowingly leaving him wanting.

Lord have mercy. He needs to get a grip because right now all he wants is a tussle with you in this big, inviting bed. Instead, he shakes it off and clears his throat.

“No time, little bird. Gotta get ready for all those reporters showing up here in…” he checks his watch, “less than two hours.”

“Another press conference? Elvis, the doctor talked about this—you have to slow down. This isn’t good for you,” you bristle, putting your hands on your hips. For whatever reason, he finds it devastatingly cute. A slow grin begins to spread across his face, but he stops himself before it rankles you.

He rises from the bed, stepping into you, drawn to you in some inexplicable way. He resists the deep urge to grab you by the waist and pull you in tight. You’d probably slap him silly if he did.

“I know, honey, I promise I’ll rest after the party tonight.”

Your brow furrows and the defeated look on your face has him chuckling a little. “There’s a party tonight? You can’t possibly be serious.”

“I never joke about parties,” he says, trying to match your serious face, unable to stop himself from grabbing your upper arms.

You look like you are ready to rip into him but then your demeanor changes completely to one of concern.

“Elvis, this isn’t going to work if you don’t make some concessions. There’s only so much I can do for you if you refuse to help yourself,” you say softly, looking up at him with those crystal blue eyes of yours.

He can deal with your annoyance, but the concern in your tone has him shifting uncomfortably.

You’re right, of course you are, but he doesn’t want to think about how shitty he feels or how dramatically he’s going to need to change things if he wants to get better.

If he wants to live.

“Alright, honey. How ‘bout after the press conference I take a good rest?” he concedes.

“How about that and ending the party at a decent hour?” you add not letting up on the way your eyes bore into him.

A challenge.

It warms his blood the way you stand your ground, bartering with him to get him to do what you want, both in a frustrating way and in a way that doesn’t help his urge of wanting to ravish you with kisses. He pushes that tantalizing thought away as quickly as possible, before it gets him into trouble.

Honestly, Elvis wants to fight you on the subject because it’s his life and his house and his party, dammit, but instead, for whatever reason, he growls out a low, “Fine.”

You nod, seemingly satisfied for the moment.

“Now I have a date with my shower. You can freshen up after I’m done, darlin’,” he says, turning on his heel and stripping off his undershirt as he grabs his kit and heads into the bathroom.

“Okay…wait, what?” he hears your voice pitch up and pokes his head back out as he strips his pants.

“I said you can have the bathroom after me, honey…unless you want to join me?” he quirks a brow. Blood rushes straight to his crotch at the thought of you in the shower with him. He’s very glad for the fact that the rest of his body is concealed by the door, otherwise you might see how Little Elvis perks up at the idea.

“Join y—I—no, Elvis!” you sputter. Your cheeks blaze red, letting him know your mind likely went where his did, which sends a tingle down his spine. “I mean, shouldn’t I just get ready in my room?”

Oh. Well, this should be interesting.

“Honey, you are in your room.”

You blink, looking utterly confused. “Excuse me, what?” You look around, eyes landing on your suitcase in the corner.

“Well, the doc said I needed 24-hour care, little bird. What if somethin’ happens when I’m sleepin’? It’s not gonna do me much good if you are way down the hall when I need ya,” he says matter-of-factly, watching the realization finally hit you. “That and you’re supposed to be my girl, and no girl of mine is sleepin’ in a different room, if we’re bein’ honest,” he chuckles.

The look of fear that crosses your features sobers him quickly, however.

“I-I-I can’t—where will I sleep?” He can tell you are trying to keep your panic at bay, albeit unsuccessfully.

“In that giant bed right over ‘dere,” he points.

Your eyes go wide, the blood draining from your blushed cheeks, and he’s suddenly afraid you might pass out.

Elvis hastily grabs his robe hanging on the back of the door and throws it on over his briefs before crossing the room to you. He doesn’t want to spook you, nor does he want you keeling over, so he leads you to a chair in the corner. Making himself the least threatening he can think to, he kneels in front of you.

You are frozen, staring at the bed with the most trepidation he’s ever seen of a woman in his room.

When he speaks, it’s nice and soft, “Hey, hey, little Lo’, it’s gonna be fine, now. Remember, I ain’t never gonna hurt ya, okay? I’m guessin’ you didn’t think about the particulars when you signed on for the job, now didja? Not an innocent young thing like yourself, ‘course not.”

You shake your head.

“But I promise, I ain’t out to do anythin’ bad to you, honey. I won’t touch you. I won’t hurt you. And just look at that bed—it’s—it’s stupidly big. You can be on one side and me on the other and fit a whole ‘nother bed between us, right?”

You seem to be doing the calculations in your head and finally nod, your shoulders relaxing a little.

“And don’t you worry your little head, I always sleep in pajamas,” he adds, trying to ease you further.

“Oh, Madone, I hadn’t even thought about that…” you start to spiral, wringing your hands in your lap.

“And now ya don’t hafta!” he says a little too cheerfully, trying to steer you back on course.

You keep nodding, as if convincing yourself this is going to work, and he desperately wishes he could put you more at ease. It’s strange, watching you build those walls back up around yourself, brick by brick.

“Yes. Okay. This is fine. This is just part of the job. It makes the most logical sense,” you murmur. Your eyes closed, your chest rises and falls with a few deep breaths.

When your eyes finally open again, they are relatively calm.

“Now, I’m gonna go get ready. There’s room in those drawers over there for your things, and that closet there is yours for the takin’, so you make yourself at home,” he says, showing you what is now your space.

You gulp but nod in understanding.

“Are you gonna be alright, Lo’?” he asks, though he’s not sure he wants to hear the answer. A desperate part of him wants you to be comfortable here, wants to please you, though he’s not entirely sure why. You’re here to help him, not the other way around.

“Of course. It just…took me aback is all. I’ll adjust,” you say, gallantly, obviously still trying to convince yourself.

“Okay, darlin’.” Elvis pats your hand gently and your eyes meet his with a cautious understanding. Crisis averted, he stands and heads back into the bathroom to clean up.

Based on your hesitation to be intimate on the train, Elvis kicks himself a little for not having the forethought to warn you about the sleeping arrangements, but his mind has been so wrapped up in his own problems, he just didn’t think about it. That and it’s been a while since any girl has so blatantly not wanted to spend the night in the same room with him.

Relishing the heat of the water of the shower unknotting his tired muscles, he tries not to let his ego get in the way about the whole situation. It becomes clearer by the minute that your hesitation around him is less about him specifically and seems much more to do with your experiences and upbringing.

Or so he hopes.

Not that it matters…she’s here for a job, not for romance.

His brain whirrs with a multitude of thoughts as he finishes getting ready. It feels strange being here, dressing in normal clothes, getting ready for a press conference. He thought it would be harder somehow to flip back into being the Elvis Presley. And it’s true, he’s not quite the kid who left. He’s hardened some. There is a man looking back at him in the mirror now, and behind the sparkle of excitement in his deep blues lies the ghost of some cold, hard truths he doesn’t particularly want to face.

Maybe that’s why he chooses an all-black ensemble, playing with texture versus color. He pulls on charcoal trousers, just a little bit lighter than the rest of what he’s picked out. The thick, high-collared black sweater he pulls over his head is offset by the deep, rounded plunge that exposes his chest. Placing a gold medallion there helps add a bit of pizazz to the monochrome get-up, and he finishes with a boxy black jacket that broadens his shoulders and that’s just shy of thick enough to be a coat.

Elvis swoops his chestnut hair up into a somewhat familiar style and notices he doesn’t really need much around the eyes—he’s so damn tired, the darkness that rims them gives him the effect of wearing makeup when he isn’t. His color is up at least, though by the way his heart zips and his body warms, he’s wondering if it is another fever doing the job.

Whatever the cause, he looks pretty damn good, and right now that’s more than he could hope for.

Exiting the bathroom, he sees you hanging the clothes from your suitcase. There aren’t many, he notices.

Gonna have to take her on a shopping spree, he thinks excitedly, by the looks of your simple and conservative wardrobe. If there’s something he loves besides women and music, it’s buying clothes. The thought of dressing you up to match him, fashioning you to him, and being able to give you things you’ve never had sends a thrill vibrating through him. He can only imagine how amazing you’d look all gussied up based on how pretty you already are in your conventional and minimalist style.

You must sense his eyes because you turn and catch his stare. Your eyes widen the slightest bit at his appearance and take him in from head to toe with what he can’t tell if it’s a critical or admiring look.

“Whadya think?” he smiles broadly, turning around with his arms out.

After a moment, you speak, “Well, considering I’ve only seen you in a hospital gown or your uniform, I’d have to say you look…acceptable.” Your eyebrow quirks with a hint of judgement.

Acceptable?

He can’t help but chuckle a little at how unphased you seem to be, and he wonders if you truly see him this way or if you are just hiding behind those walls of yours. Maybe it’s a little of both.

“You might be my toughest audience, little bird, so I’ll take that as a compliment,” he laughs.

You nod. Then your eyes flit to the bathroom. It’s subtle, but he takes the hint quickly.

“It’s all yours, darlin’. I-I’ll, uh, I’ll be downstairs,” he says, stumbling through his words the moment he thinks about you being naked in his bathroom. He’s going to have to get over that, quickly, or else he’s gonna get himself in trouble right quick.

He turns to leave the room and is halfway out the door when he hears you speak again.

“Thank you, Elvis,” you say quietly.

He turns to you, seeing a genuine yet embarrassed look on your face.

“For being so patient with me. I know this can’t be easy, having me…invade your life like this,” you continue, waving a hand.

“I appreciate that little bird, just like I know it ain’t easy for you either. And you…you can invade my life all you want, darlin’,” he says with a flirty grin, trying to lighten the mood, but it comes out more breathless and endearing than kidding.

Your unreadable but poignant stare rakes over him for a moment, sending a cascade of shivers down his spine. Then, you blink and look away, and it’s gone, whatever it was that ignited this feeling inside him. You seem to be doing a lot of that lately, and he’s not entirely sure how he feels about it, to be honest.

“I’ll see you downstairs,” he says, clearing his throat and nodding before leaving you and closing the door behind him.

Sweat has gathered just above his upper lip. Elvis isn’t sure if it’s from knowing that you are currently undressing in his room or if it’s from the fever. Either way, he wipes it away, takes a deep breath, and makes his way downstairs to get ready for the reporters to arrive.

The interview itself is relatively short, a bunch of men crammed into Daddy’s office out back, but before and after the cameras follow him around the estate. He’s charming and polite as he eats bits off a huge fan made, guitar-shaped cake. He poses next to a Christmas tree from two years ago. He laughs and is pleasant and does everything he needs to do to make them happy.

Luckily, this part comes relatively easy for him. There’s no need to fake being excited to be home or for the movies and albums and appearances he’s already been signed up to do. No, his trepidation comes from other things. Like if he will be well enough to follow through on his commitments. Or if he can keep his declining health from the very people who surround him, so gleefully eating up his every word and gesture. And then there is the maneuvering around all the questions about the girls.

He knows Cilla ain’t gonna be happy when she sees this interview with the way he’s got to brush her off, but with recent developments and being back stateside, he has bigger fish to fry. Honestly, the little girl that captured his attention so fiercely in Germany feels a world away, almost like he dreamt her. So much has happened, and while he loves her and has a deep need to mold her to him, there is no way she is ready for any of this. Especially not now.

Plus, there is Anita to consider. Lovely little Nita, who promised to be good for him. The woman he wrote sweet promises to from across the sea as he entertained a multitude of other women in the meantime. The girl his mother begged him to settle down with.

Elvis thinks he should feel worse than he does for fooling around, but what was he supposed to do? Be celibate for two years? It wasn’t remotely realistic, and the situation was made worse by his grief over mama. He needed the company. He wasn’t gonna be sorry for that. But he doesn’t feel great about the lying or for quite accidentally falling for Cilla because Nita will most certainly see that as a betrayal. She already suspected as much in their last conversation, and they’ve been awfully cool with each other since, so he’s not even sure there is much of a relationship to come back to. But he has love for Anita, he knows that.

Sex is one thing, and love is another.

Unfortunately for him, he has the bad habit of being in love with more than one woman at once, most of the time. It’s in his DNA or something. But it causes a helluva problem when he’s got girls wanting to settle down because he can never seem to choose, nor can he seem to bring himself to ever actually break up with them. That damn jealous streak in him doesn’t help either.

Proof positive of this is how he’d sent Elisabeth, the young woman he’d fallen for in Germany right after mama died and made his “live-in” secretary, on to Graceland upon his return, even though they weren’t really an item anymore and even though he suspects she and Rex are having an affair. The thought of that boils his blood despite the fact deep down he wants it to be true because then it doesn’t have to be his responsibility to let her go. But it hurts his ego all the same.

Elvis is full of infuriating contradictions and he knows it, although he’s got enough problems as it is without getting caught up in how it all makes him feel.

Seeing Anita is both something he desperately needs yet also dreads, his stomach rolling with just the thought of it. He loves her still, though he’s not entirely sure in what capacity, but he’s certain she will want what he promised in his letters: marriage and a family.

And one thing is for sure—he can’t possibly start a family with a woman he can’t tell his secrets to, not when he’s not one hundred percent sure if that’s what he wants and who he wants it with.

This should tell him all he needs to know about his future with his little Anita, but the need for the comfort of someone familiar overrides all logic in his feverish brain. He can’t help but call her to come immediately, even though initially he planned for a private reunion after things had settled down some.

“Little,” is all he can bring himself to say when his blonde baby makes it through the front door before the party starts. He doesn’t hesitate to scoop her tiny body up into his arms and hold her like his life depends on it.

And she is warm and familiar and comfortable, Elvis thinks, as he buries his head in her hair and she clings to him. But the moment is quickly overridden by the tendril of doubt that climbs up his spine and sinks itself into his psyche. His heart begins to throb in his ears, and he pushes the bile that creeps up his throat back down with a gulp. Pressing a lingering kiss to her lips, he prays it will feel the same as before, that something, anything will be the same as before he was sent overseas.

It isn’t.

Lord, it breaks his heart a little, a flood of searing heat rolling through his chest when he pulls back and forces his best smile to paint his face. He can’t parse out right now why it isn’t, not exactly, not when she’s looking at him so expectantly. But he has a pretty good idea it’s not just the other women that has him feeling off about this, about her.

It’s cuz you’re a damn lying liar, a bitter voice in his head throws up at him, and you know you ain’t gonna tell her shit about all the ways you’ve betrayed her and especially not how you’re dyin’.

Shut the fuck up, he hisses back.

Perhaps this is why he pretends everything is right with the world, folding her into his arms through the evening, petting and patting her like he never left. He so wants everything to be perfect, to fit like it’s supposed to. He wants—no, he needs—a good woman by his side, to take care of him. Mama knew that. And she liked Anita for it.

But the ache in his heart and in his stomach tells him she’s not the one, yet his innate need to please still whispers maybe, maybe, maybe, matching the rhythmic pounding of his heart.

Later, when he pulls Little up to his room, he tells himself he’s gonna be honest with her, tell her everything and then they can start with a clean slate. But the words get trapped in his throat and he kisses her instead.

Elvis lets his body take over, even though it’s burning up, because this he knows how to do right. His lips plunder hers, hoping for salvation, and her mouth opens, ready and willing to take him. Her mewls and sighs, now those are real, those are something he can latch onto. It doesn’t take much at all to get her under him in his huge bed, his hands and lips exploring all the familiar dips and curves of her perfect form.

“You my good baby? Little was good while I’s gone?” he baby talks breathlessly at her, nuzzling her nose as his fingers dance over her body. Yes, this is familiar, this little vulnerability he lets leak through, this need to be insular and small and needy and taken care of.

She nods, furiously, replying breathlessly, “Yes, of course, baby.”

Elvis believes her, mostly. He wants to. She’s a good Southern girl who promised to wait for him, and he takes that for what it is. Because of this, he won’t go all the way with her, he never does, wanting to keep her pure.

But why? You ain’t gonna marry her.

The thought hits him like a truck, causing him to halt his ministrations.

“You alright, Elvis?” Anita asks, those pretty eyes of her clouding with a tinge of concern.

Shaking it off, he covers quickly, “Y-Yeah, o-of course, Little. Just missed ya, is all. Takin’ it all in.” Throwing a dopey grin on his face helps reassure her and his Little smiles back at him, her tiny hands running over his face and neck and chest until he remembers he doesn’t want to think anymore.

By the time he’s inched his hand up her skirt, feeling the center of her panties damp with slick, his mind finally relents, and his arousal takes over fully. It’s blissful, giving himself over to pleasure after so many days of racing thoughts. After having to fight his body at every turn.

No, now Elvis just slides his hand between her legs, grinding his quickly hardening cock into her hip, not a thought in his head other than bringing them both to the brink. He’s gentle, though, when he slips under the cotton, causing a whimper to escape her as he flits his fingertip over her slit and circles the little bundle of nerves at the top.

Anita keens and grinds into his hand, her hip rubbing deliciously against his length. With a moan, he pulls himself up, moving in between her creamy thighs to perch on his knees. This he can control; this he can satisfy.

“Show me how my yittle baby been so good while I’s gone,” he purrs in her ear. The way she’s panting with want and dripping onto his hand will have him finishing too soon if he’s not careful. “With no one to pet yer yittle kitty, ya must be all tight in there for me, right baby?”

“Mm hmm,” she nods, barely able to get the words out, as breathless as she is.

“Lemme see,” he commands. She opens her legs, knees coming up readily to accommodate him, lifting her hips up when he pushes her skirt to her waist. He smirks when he sees her choice of white panties exposed, the dark little curls visible through the thin fabric and the grey damp patch in the center that shows her need for him. The sight sends more blood rushing to his dick and it twitches roughly, scraping against his slacks.

But that will have to wait because he has an inspection to do, one he takes seriously as he hooks the crotch of her panties with one finger and pulls it to the side, revealing her bare, shining pink petals to him.

Oh, Lord have mercy, how he loves pussy, he thinks, swallowing a groan as he bends his head between her legs. She shudders at his proximity and bucks at how he parts her swelling lips with a long finger. He places a hand over her furry mound and presses lightly to still her, thumbing her clit.

Nita whines at that.

“Be a good baby,” he scolds. She stills. He finds himself wanting to rut into the mattress, but keeps himself on his knees instead, needing to see to her first.

He uses two fingers to part her lips, swallowing a moan when he sees her tight entrance leaking for him. “Aw, look at that. Kitty’s weeping for me, needs me so bad,” he coos. It’s a little wicked how he teases her, dragging a finger through the slick, up and down, watching her clench around nothing. But he can’t help but be enamored, can’t help how he brings his finger to his lips to taste the tang of her there.

“Elvis!” she squeaks, a wanton mixture of need and shock. She watches with wide eyes when he smiles at her before putting his entire middle finger in his mouth, lathing it with his tongue.

“The real test, baby,” he says, then takes his spit-soaked digit and slides it right up into that tight little hole. He can’t help the way he groans at just how damn good it feels to sink into her wet heat.

From the way she gasps and writhes and by how her walls clench around his finger, he reckons she’s passed his little test. “Such a good baby. No one’s been in my little kitty, now have they? I can feel it how good you been,” he praises, punctuating his words with a gentle thrust.

Anita cries out at that, the sound going straight between his legs. Slowly (because damn, she really is so very tight), he works his finger in and out, watching how she begins to rock with him, how she scrunches her eyes shut when he couples it with tight circles on her clit. His hand shines with her arousal in the low lighting, and the sloppy sound of her loosening has him clenching his legs together. Elvis wants to see her come apart, but at this rate he’s so aroused that it’s likely he’s gonna finish in his pants if he’s not careful.

Honestly, he’s so mesmerized by it all that he doesn’t even care. He’s dumb with her and can’t stop himself from lying down and pressing his lips to her clit, causing her to sigh out in surprise. This wasn’t part of his foreplay pre-army, so he can understand why she nearly levitates off the bed when he swirls his tongue around her and continues to work her with his finger. The tangy taste of her and the way she’s starting to tense around his finger has him dry humping the comforter, the friction causing his own moans to vibrate her core.

She’s panting his name now and all he wants is to make her scream.

Lapping and lathing and swirling, he bathes her sex with his tongue and he knows she’s close, and damn, he is too. He curves up and finds that little spongy spot deep inside while he sucks on her button and there it is.

“Elvis!” Anita shrieks his name, her hips coming off the bed as she clenches and shudders around him.

He digs his pelvis into the mattress as she soaks his hand in her slick. Removing his finger, a deep need overcomes him to taste her release from the inside. He licks her clean, spreading her open and driving his tongue deep into her as she squirms against him. Elvis moans into her soaking cunt and thrusts again and again into the friction of the bed under him, drunk on pussy.

Which is where you find him as you unsuspectingly walk through the bedroom door.

“Oh—my god! I—Oh!” he hears you gasp, and Lord damn him if his orgasm doesn’t hit him so damn hard that he can barely breathe with the combination of factors at play. For some reason, watching you stand there watching him covered in slick and tonguing pussy as his release erupts through him has him inconceivably turned on. It’s like the dial of his orgasm is suddenly turned up from 10 to 100. His cock pulses violently and he can’t stop the groan that emanates from deep within, can’t stop the hot ropes of seed that soil the inside of his slacks, coating his lower belly.

Anita screams, and in trying to cover herself, ends up driving his face deeper into her core. His eyes roll back into his head, and he finishes with another moan and an aggressive shudder.

In his post-coital haze, Elvis slowly removes himself from between Anita’s quivering thighs, sitting back on his heels. He sees you standing there in the doorway, frozen stiff with those crystal blue eyes blown wide and your hand covering your mouth. He’s not sure if he wants to laugh, cry with embarrassment, or invite you into the bed. Mostly the latter, he thinks, by the way his softening cock twitches at the thought. Regardless, as improper as it is, he can’t seem to tear his eyes away from you, and neither can you stop staring at him. Refracting and locked in this strange and intimate gaze with you, he knows he should do something to stop it, to stop this wild desire of his to try bring you into this decidedly pornographic scenario. His breath heaves from exertion and lingering arousal but he remains still, watching you, cum dripping down to his legs and seeping through his pants.

Anita is the first one to move, shoving a pillow on top of her lap with a yelp.

That seems to break the spell and set things in motion. “I-I-I-I’m so, so sorry,” you finally stutter out, covering your eyes, finally looking away.

“What are you even doing in here?!” Anita almost wails.

Oh shit.

When his clouded brain finally realizes the variety of bad implications your appearance brings, he shoots a warning, pleading glare in your direction. But in your mortification, you don’t see it.

“I—I was just coming to get—” you stop, eyes darting, finally catching the wild look on his face.

Anita wiggles around him and pulls her skirt down as fast as possible. “To get what? What could you possibly need to get in Elvis’ private bedroom? You can’t just come in here!” she huffs.

There’s no way that you could know that no one enters this room without express permission, and regardless, he had told you to make yourself at home. He hadn’t been thinking when he brought Anita up here because, well, this had never been an issue before.

You look at him for guidance, but his brain is barely functioning, so he has none to give, sputtering himself. He watches the wheels turn in your brain, how you go to speak, but stop yourself when realizing you can’t reveal that you’ve likely come up to check his vitals or come to bed. Any remotely truthful response is unacceptable, and because you are indeed no actress, it all reads on your face.

Anita jumps to standing, smoothing her skirt. Her eyes narrow, darting from him to you and back again.

“Oh, you have got to be kidding!” Anita seethes, turning on him. “Elvis Presley, what have you done?”

It’s like a bucket of ice has poured over what should be post-orgasmic bliss.

“I ain’t done nothin’, I swear, Little!” he placates, throwing up his hands.

“Oh, don’t you ‘Little’ me!” she points scathingly at him. “You told me she was fixin’ to see some friends down here and y’all were doing her a favor cuz she’d helped you after you hit your head! I should’ve known. I’m such a fool.” Anita’s eyes fill with tears as she shakes her head.

“I didn’t—it’s not—,” you start, trying to salvage the situation.

“Shut your mouth and get out, you silly girl!” Anita snaps.

You look horrified, but he watches as that unshakable face you get when doing your job suddenly slides into place. The look in your eyes when they meet his is apologetic, and then you leave quietly, the door clicking shut behind you.

“This isn’t what you think, Anita.”

“Don’t. Just—don’t. I’m not an idiot, Elvis,” she says, angrily wiping tears off her cheeks. “I just knew there were others…but you were tellin’ all your stories. I just never thought you’d bring them home…”

It both breaks his heart and pisses him off.

“Aw, shit, that’s not the way it is, that’s not the way it is at all, you know how I feel about you…”

“Elvis, I know we were cool to each other last time we talked, but—but you brought home a girlfriend!”

Her tone sets something off in him, flipping that switch inside that always makes him regret his actions later. Maybe it’s because he’s exhausted, sick and because his life doesn’t feel like his own and hasn’t for a long time. Or it’s because he’s truly trapped in this situation and knows there’s next to nothing that he can say to mend this without telling the truth, and that’s out of the question. But he can’t stop the wave of heat that boils through his veins, the one that wants him to burn it all to the ground.

Elvis rounds on her, defensive as can be, the words pouring out of him before he even has a chance to think on them. “You know why—you know why I was cool to you? This very reason, right here. I-I-I-can’t talk to you hon. You mess with my damn head, man. I-I-can’t count on a decent conversation with ya. Ya start throwin’ up all kinds of shit to me. Talkin’ about ‘girlfriends’ and all that nonsense. Been the same since I landed in Germany. You’re just a fuckin nag, that’s all, you’re just a nagger that’s all.”

It's cruel and he knows it by the way she looks like she’s been slapped in the face.

“Are—are you kidding me? It’s one thing when it’s across the ocean, Elvis, but quite another when you bring one of your whores home with you and in the same breath try and seduce me!” she spits.

Irrational, red-hot anger rolls over him at that. He chuckles darkly, livid, “Oh, I didn’t try, honey, I succeeded. And you shut your damn mouth about her. Don’t you dare call her—she’s no whore.”

“Oh, please. I didn’t want to believe it when I overheard Lamar talking about walking in on you two on the train. I wanted to think that you’d left it all behind. You said as much, but you and your never-ending parade of lies…” she says, her voice pitching up and grating on his last nerve.

His jaw clenches, ticking. “Why can’t you be sweet instead of bitchin’ like an old naggin’ ass wife, huh?” he says viciously. “I can’t stand that, I can’t stand it. Baby you’ve got me crazy, you know that? You get worse a-all the damn time, a-and th-th-that’s why I—"

“If you feel so strongly, Elvis, then I—” she starts in again.

“Well, that’s the way I feel about it a-a-and y-y-y-you don’t have to be that way either. Not to the extent that you are.”

Anita tries to interject but he’s countering her every move before she can even play it. They’ve danced this dance before, enough that he knows just how far to push before he breaks her, breaks them.

And he knows that’s what he’s got to do.

“No, you don’t have to be that bad,” he says vehemently, pointing at her, silencing her. “I just know you’re gonna start throwin’ something up to me a-and I don’t wanna hear it. I’m fuckin’ exhausted and try and try to give you what you want, but it’s never enough, is it? You turn me the fuck up, you know that? All the damn time! I-I-I can’t stand it. I-I can’t stand it Anita, I swear I can’t stand it.”

“Well, if you’d do right by me, this wouldn’t be an issue!” She’s crying now, the tears running down her pretty cheeks, smearing her makeup.

Still, he charges forward, his words brutal and cutting. He wants to tell himself this is just an act, but it’s as if every ounce of frustration he’s had the past week, the past few years, is pouring out of him all at once, directed squarely right at Anita. Elvis knows there’s enough truth in all this to make it real. As much as he didn’t want to admit it to himself, he knew the moment he saw her walk in the door that this was through, that it has to be. And that makes him even angrier.

“Naw, if I saw you every damn day, you’d still start that shit.” He raises his voice, tinny and high, horribly mocking her, “’Who’d you see today? You g-got a girlfriend? I’m surprised at you, blah blah, blah,’ and all that bullshit,” he spits.

“That’s a lie!” she wails.

“Naw, it ain’t no lie. Naw, you bring it up every time I talk to you.”

“Maybe if you didn’t make me a fool by flaunting them all in front of me, in the papers and the magazines, and bringin’ your whores into the house, I wouldn’t have to bother you about it!”

There it is again—that word, associated with you, the woman who’s done nothing to deserve such slander, no matter what you have to pretend—and his heart thunders in his ears. Rage fully consumes him. He goes nearly blind with it.

“She’s not a fuckin’ whore! I want her here, and it’s MY GODDAMN HOUSE!” he screams, kicking a nearby suitcase and sending clothes flying. His chest heaves as he tries to catch his now-wheezing breath. “And I ain’t gotta justify anything to you!”

Anita looks as wrecked as he feels, but she manages to straighten and pull herself together in the heavy silence that follows his outburst. “Fine. Then you ain’t got to worry about me botherin’ you anymore, Elvis. This is over.”

There it is.

He closes his eyes as she storms out of the room, the logical, non-enraged part of him hating how he’s treated her, how he’s failed her.

It had to be done.

Letting out a choking breath, his heart feels like it’s about ready to pound out of his ribcage and race right out of his chest. His body is railing against him the way he railed against Anita.

Serves you right, you sonnofabitch.

It’s as if everything is colliding in him at once. The weight of his responsibilities coupled with that of his treacherous body on top of having to push away someone he cares for makes it all feel like much too much. A faraway feeling comes over him, as though he’s watching the way he rampages through the room, tearing through unpacked suitcases like a starving dog in a dumpster, from someone else’s eyes.

Lord, he doesn’t want to care. He desperately wants to pretend it’s all been one of his night terrors—that he’ll wake up in some bizarre place and find out the last few years, since mama died, have all been a figment of his imagination.

But no, he’s knows it’s real. It wouldn’t hurt so bad if it wasn’t. His body wouldn’t feel like this if it wasn’t true.

Racing thoughts mimic his racing heart, his labored breath: Why, God? Why am I given these trials? Is this the terrible price I gotta pay for the fame and idolatry that I never truly asked for?

Elvis hears a mournful, roaring wail before realizing it’s coming from him, that the horrible sound is emanating and rumbling out of his chest. His vision swims with tears and the room spins around him, but there is a terrifying calm in the center of this storm where he finds himself now, watching the wreckage, unable to change anything.

No one will ever understand. I am utterly…alone.

And then the hideous whisper of his self-destructive streak: Burn it all to the ground.

“Elvis!” The door flings open as you barrel through, calling his name, your eyes wide with worry.

Lamar clamors in after you, putting himself between you and Elvis. “You don’t wanna be here for this, girly,” he says, trying to push you back out.

The overwhelming churning ocean inside him agrees. He wants you nowhere near him when he’s monstrous like this. The plea starts in his head… Get out, get out, “Get out!” Elvis bellows throwing whatever is nearest to him at the wall with a crash.

You jump, wincing at the sound, but when you open your eyes, they are filled with determination and something else he can’t parse through in his state.

“Let me go!” you snap at Lamar, fiercely enough to surprise him into releasing you. Then, you are in front of Elvis, your eyes piercing through the cloud of his anger.

“No. I will not go. Elvis, look at me. I will not go.”

The room snaps back into focus so suddenly he feels whiplash.

Blinking, he flounders under your stare. Part of him is livid at your audacity, for not obeying, for simply existing because it reminds him of his dire situation. But another part is desperate for you to make this stop.

Something between a growl and a whimper escapes him as he tries to turn away, but you pull him back. Your cool hands are like aloe against his burning, sticky cheeks. He slaps your hands away, suddenly ashamed that you’ve touched the evidence of Anita’s arousal that still covers his face, that he subjected you to that intimate act, that he got off on it.

“Just leave!” he shouts, heaving, tears of frustration now spilling down his cheeks. He’s dizzy with emotion and from not being able to catch his damn breath. His knees maddeningly buckle under him, and finally, he gives in, sinking his knees into the plush carpet.

“No,” you respond calmly, coming down with him. You turn your head, addressing Lamar, “You can go.”

The quiet order you have given has Lamar leaving and shutting the door without question. If he was thinking straight, Elvis might be amazed at your confidence, but the world is still swirling like mad around him. He doesn’t want you to see him weak or feeble. He closes his eyes, wanting it all just to stop, hoping to disappear.

“Elvis. Elvis, I need you to breathe as deep as you can for me.”

Your tone has him obeying even though he feels petulant about it.

“Again. In through your nose and out through your mouth.”

He does, oxygen shuddering through him.

You guide him like this for God knows how long, your presence a balm to his gaping hole of a heart. His shoulders slump and he starts to feel boneless, the fire of his anger cooling with each inhale and exhale.

Eventually, he can feel you begin to rise, and his eyes fly open in a panic. His hand grasps your arm, and he shakes his head violently.

“I’m not leaving, I’m just going to grab some things from my bag. Keep breathing.” You remove his hand gently, with a soft smile.

Elvis nods, closing his eyes again because it all still feels too big and the exhaustion he’s pushed off for too long is winning the battle. He hears rustling and the tap in the bathroom turn on, then off, before the padding of your feet on the carpet reaches him again. Sensing you before him, he opens his eyes and looks up at you mournfully through tear-soaked lashes.

You bring a dampened washcloth to his face, gently wiping away the salt of his tears and the arousal left from his romp with Anita. Then you wipe his hands, one by one. He wants to be embarrassed about it all, but all the fight has drained out of him and the action is so soothing that he can’t help but let you continue. He doesn’t deserve this quiet comfort, he thinks, yet is powerless to stop it.

“Up,” you instruct. There’s a softness to it that makes him want to do whatever you ask. You hold out your hands to help him off the ground, then wrap an arm around his middle which he is thankful for when he realizes he’s not steady on his feet. The few steps to the bed are conquered slowly and he falls to the edge quite ungracefully once you release him.

When you seem satisfied that he’s not going to slide off and back onto the floor, you pop a thermometer in his mouth and wrap a cuff around his bicep, taking to task without a fuss. He tries to not let his thoughts spiral again, focusing instead on the swish of your skirt against his knees.

“Hmm, 102.4,” you tut softly, looking down at him with compassion and an eyebrow quirk that intonates an I told you so without it being uttered. “And your blood pressure is too high. Probably from all that…exertion.”

It’s all he can do to just meet your eye, apologies for the multitude of bad behaviors you’ve witnessed tonight caught in his throat. He’s never been good at saying he’s sorry, but he wants to, he does, but he can’t seem to get anything out, much less an apology. Instead, he just looks up at you and hopes his eyes convey the words he cannot say.

You blink in response, your crinkled brow the only fissure in your currently calm exterior. Pushing it away as fast as it appeared, you reach into your bag to retrieve what looks like a bottle of aspirin, handing him two and a glass of water that you must have gotten from the bathroom.

“Swallow those down, and then let’s get you into some pajamas and into bed,” you say, looking at him for guidance on where his pajamas might reside.

He points to the set of drawers across the room. Popping the pills in his mouth, the taste is acrid on his tongue, and he washes them down quickly with the water.

There is something about how you’ve taken over the situation so deftly and completely that has Elvis at your mercy. No one, not even his mama, was ever very good at bringing him down from his bouts of temper, his explosive emotions usually being too big for anyone to handle. But somehow, you employed such a calming presence that he almost wonders if you hypnotized him.

Regardless, you hadn’t run in the opposite direction or turned into a trembling mess before him, and this shocks him, based on what he knows of you and knows of those unfortunate enough to be subjected to his temper. He has not scared you away, and that is something strange indeed.

A sudden and unwavering need for you courses through his tired body and weary soul. It’s different from his attraction to you, something more. It makes him feel raw, vulnerable, and a little afraid at how deeply he craves comfort from you, how he wants to anchor himself to you because he feels so adrift.

Perhaps this is why he gives himself over to your firm but quiet orders, finally deferring to you in a way that is both relieving and disconcerting because he feels so damn small. But he’s just so drained and worn and for once, doesn’t want to be in charge anymore.

His shoulders slump and his limbs feel heavy, so he does not resist when you begin to strip him of his top layers. In fact, the only help he gives is to lift his leaden arms to allow you to pull his sweater up and off, leaving him bare-chested before you. He finds himself desiring the intimacy of letting you take care of him, watching you sleepily through heavy lidded eyes as you move around him. The feel of your fingers brushing lightly against him when you lean close to remove the medallion from around his neck sends his heart fluttering.

You are singularly focused on doing your job, that professional concentration of yours playing over your features, assisting you in your goal of getting him comfortable and resting. There’s no doubt in his mind that you’ve helped others like this in your work based on your deftness, despite your lack of experience with men in general, but part of him wishes he were special—that he alone receives this level of care from you. The possessiveness of the thought swims away and he’s left feeling glad there are no expectations of him, other than to let you work. He relishes in this, letting you maneuver him like a child into his dark, silky pajama top. Frankly, he feels nearly catatonic, so your assistance is both necessary and pacifying.

It's when you undo his belt that a sense of bashfulness heats his cheeks. He’s not wearing any underwear, but that’s the least of his worries. No, it’s the fact that, in his burst of dramatic temper, he had forgotten he came in his pants, causing a sticky, musky mess from his waist to his knee. He only has time to suck in a sharp breath before you’ve already made quick work of his buttons and zipper.

Oh, God.

Elvis’ entire body flushes pink and he bites his lower lip with enough force to draw blood. But you are too engrossed in your task to catch his sudden embarrassment, and you manage to unearth the mess before he has a chance to stop you. He’s gotta give you credit in that you only pause for a moment, almost immediately reaching for the discarded washcloth from earlier and handing it to him wordlessly before continuing with your job of removing his soiled slacks leg by leg. The only hint that belies your composure is the bit of red that tinges your cheeks quite abruptly, but otherwise, you show no reaction to his nakedness or the mess.

Grateful that your eyes are actively avoidinghow he’s frantically wiping his pecker and surrounding areas, he forces his slow and heavy limbs to move as fast as possible. It proves difficult in his unwell state, and by the time he finishes, you are already pulling legs of his pajamas up his knees. You are so efficient that he barely has time to balk at the fact that you are between his legs and eye level with his bareness before he’s raising his hips and you are slipping the silk up to his waist.

A deep relief washes over him, not just for his modesty, but because he feels like he can truly rest for the first time in a long time. For some reason, with you here, he finally feels safe to do so. There is something incredibly soothing in having you take care of him like this. He’s not sure why he ever tried to fight it in the first place.

“Time to sleep,” you say gently, pulling back the covers on the bed.

Elvis is so drowsy and needy that he very much wants to surround himself in your soft embrace and finds himself unable to resist doing so. He unabashedly throws his arms around your hips, drawing you close, and buries his head into your stomach.

“Oh!” you gasp quietly in surprise, tensing under his sudden and intimate touch.

He does not relent, however, only nuzzling deeper into your body and pulling you in between his legs to bring you closer. This need of his to be held and coddled is strong on a good day, and right now it takes over what little is left of his conscious thought. The security of your soft, nurturing warmth is all he craves.

You relax, seeming to realize his intentions are pure, and Elvis feels your fingers begin to cart through his hair and rub his back. He sighs into it. It’s better for him than any medicine and that scares him a little. How could it not when he barely knows you? Yet you manage to soothe something deep inside him that no one else can seem to reach. Maybe he can’t stop thinking about you because you are meant for more in his life.

God has a plan…

The thought settles pleasantly, deep within the recesses of his mind. As you lay him down, covering him with the duvet and he drifts into sleep, he snuggles into the safety of knowing he is in your capable, beautiful hands.

Taglist:

@atombombbibunny @yesimwriting @uselessbutinteresting @mirandastuckinthe80s @dark-as-love

@domaniquessidehoe @im-lame-irl @allybrooke05 @hangmanswhore

@jazmin2211 @kvcssghbjbcd @coldonexx @dudinhahoff @whatstruthgottodowithit @tiredbuthappy @amiets2 @saintmagx

@kvcssghbjbcd @butlersluvbot @babydollie43 @vainbimbo @meladollsims @wstelandbaby @dre6ming @normatural @ash-omalley @xcallmetaniax @galvz-42 @thejezebel @fullmetal-falcon @robinismywife @dre6ming @seaweedbrain00 @amiets2 @mslizziesblog @heisatroubleinapinksuit @calusussss @dont-feel-so-good-peter @rainydayz101 @pizzaisrelationshipgoals

@liaaacantwrite @kittenlittle24 @kaitaesupremacy @butler-trouble @eliseinmemphis @russian-soft-bitch @tattywood

@sassanoe @re3kin @thella @suspiciousmidge @hiddlepiddlediddlewiddle @carolinesbookworld @juggernort @aesthetic-lyss @stitchattacks @donnamarie23 @ab4eva

@fic-over-cannon @lacyluver @littlebitofgreen @paigevis @godlypresley @bugg06 @xhannahbananax03 @artlover8992

@18lkpeters @frozenhuntress67 @girlblogger2002 @kendralavon7 @elvisgf @misspresley @ohjustpeachy1 @whositmcwhatsit @be-my-ally @precious-little-scoundrel @vintageshanny @from-memphis-with-love @prompted-wordsmith @ellie-24 @thatbanditqueen @stylespresleyhearted @elv1s-is-pretty @crash-and-cure

Reblogs, likes, comments, tips + feedback are extremely appreciated! Please help support your content creators!

127 notes · View notes