#╰ ❛ &. ⤑ VERSE: I TOOK YOUR NAME FROM THE TIP OF MY LIPS ╱ 005. | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

ellie-24 · 2 years ago

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Forbidden Fruit

Finally another installment set in my Big Daddy Elvis x assistant reader verse. Chronologically set after Maybe one day, but can be read as a stand alone. It's also not a reader-insert per se anymore because our lovely assistant has a name now. I hope you like it!! :)

Also I really gotta say a special thank you to the incomparable @whositmcwhatsit who made the whole thing readable and had some great tips! And thanks to @thatbanditqueen @vintageshanny @be-my-ally @missmaywemeetagain @from-memphis-with-love for being the most inspiring, awesome backup ever. (they're also the ones taking possible complaints regarding the word count, they're responsible for it)

Warnings: Elvis loves his guns, discussions of Elvis' health, mentions of alcohol, addiction, pills, light manipulation and gaslighting, a bit of period typical misogyny, a bit of smut at the end (oral, f receiving)

Word count: ~13.3 k

You had continued staying with him at night after that one episode where he nearly overdosed. Elvis’ night terrors weren’t comparable to what most people mean when they describe what they go through when it’s time to sleep. Being around Elvis meant to completely ignore and unlearn your natural sleeping pattern. Scratch that. Being around Elvis meant that you had to forget everything considered normal. Day to day activities were determined by his unpredictable and sometimes challenging moods. In your short time working for him you quickly learned to adjust and be done with it. More importantly to never question anything. Things just made more sense when you stopped thinking about them too hard.

That’s how you found yourself sitting at Elvis’ bed at 5 in the morning reading to him. Being around Elvis meant being nocturnal. Which also meant that going to bed at 5 AM was a sensible thing to do.

“He's always been like this.” Charlie said to you a few days earlier. “Billy told me he never slept well. Even before his rise to fame, as a child. I guess that just stuck. He never outgrew it.”

“I think it might just be a habit now. He obviously performs at night. Very late into the night, it's only natural for your body to adjust.” Jerry had interjected.

“Well, he takes his pills before a show. You know the ones that make him more... energetic.” you offered.

Jerry raised his eyebrows. “Energetic. That's a nice way to put it.”

You shrugged. “He takes them before his shows. They're probably still full in effect when he tries to go to sleep.” The two men hummed, the conversation apparently over.

Whether it was a combination of those or something else entirely. Whatever it was, it caused nearly everyone in his orbit to go to bed when the rest of the world woke up.

He insisted that you stayed by his side from the moment he laid down until he woke up again. Clearly this was far beyond your duty as a personal assistant, but you couldn’t help yourself. You knew he hated being alone with his mind for too long, claiming it would get weird up there. He often found solace in his faith, carrying a bible everywhere he went. His books on spiritualism and numerology were constant companions as well. When his sleeping pills wouldn’t do the job and he found himself thrashing back and forth in his bed, frustrated that he just couldn’t seem to find any rest, he reached out for his reading glasses and turned on the lamp. His mind was running at full speed anyway, so he might as well put it to use.

The only thing hindering him now was the pain in his eye. The doctor couldn’t quite figure out what it was, but sometimes it was nearly unbearable for him. His body was so accustomed to the medication that even the painkillers he took hours ago couldn’t give him any relief.

“Do me a favour, will ya? Read this to me?” He held out a book to you.

“Is it your eye?”

He pursed his lips and narrowed his eyes at you. “...Nah, just wanna hear your sweet voice.” he mumbled with a grin.

In your one hand you now held Cheiro’s Book of Numbers, a very interesting choice for a bedtime story. (Don’t question things.) Your other hand was occupied holding his ring clad one. How he slept with all this jewellery was another mystery to you.

He closed his eyes and reached out for your hand, grasping it tight. You scooted closer to him. “I'm right here, E. I'll stay.”

He hummed and squeezed your hand even tighter.

Elvis certainly had to be the most physical and touchy person you’d ever known. You gently ran your thumb over his palm, assuring him the whole time. He’d sometimes grunt or hiss, his face scrunching up in pain, which caused you to stutter slightly. You tried to conceal it. Often you thought he had finally fallen asleep, his breathing evening out, his hand squeezing yours less and less.

However when you stopped reading, you’d hear him rumbling. “... Julie, be a sweetheart and read that last part again, will ya? Didn’t quite catch that.”

That was the exact sentence he mumbled every time you grew quiet. After the third time though, the sentence grew shorter and shorter each time until the only thing he eventually managed to get out was a slurred “Julie, sweetheart.”

You read aloud for two more minutes and when you stopped this time, there was no reaction from him. You closed the book with a sigh and put it on his night stand and checked the time. 7:48 AM. With a huff, you ran your hands over your face, wanting nothing more than go to sleep as well. It felt like every day you needed to apply more make up to the ever growing bags under your eyes. But you couldn't go to sleep. Not really.

Being around Elvis meant almost constant paranoia. Paranoia that his lifestyle would finally take its toll. You’d seen him almost die two times now. When he nearly overdosed the other day you realised the true extent of the damage all the pills caused.

“It's alright, sweetheart. The doctor prescribed them. He knows what he's doing, he's a doctor.” he laughed, looking at you like you had grown two heads.

“Jerry said you've been to the hospital multiple times already.” you insisted. “Don't you think-”

“He's just a nervous nelly. It was probably... dehydration or something along the lines, nothing dramatic. Don't believe everything you're told” he argued, leaving no room for disagreeing.

The only other time you witnessed him almost die was at dinner. You and the rest of the Memphis Mafia sat together enjoying a relaxed dinner after a successful show. Everyone enjoyed their food and made light conversation until Elvis started choking all of the sudden. You remember sitting in shock, dropping your plate as you watched Jerry run over to him and perform the Heimlich manoeuvre. This event had truly shocked you to the core, causing dinner to be considered a rather stressful affair now.

The truly terrifying thing about this whole nerve wrecking affair wasn’t necessarily the fact that Elvis Presley was in fact choking, it was how automatic and nonchalant everyone was about it. As if the whole process has been practised numerous times. Jerry later informed you that something like this would indeed happen on a regular basis. Almost everyone close to him had saved his life at one point. Literally. Charlie explained that the medication would alter and slow his reflexes, often causing him to choke on food. Sometimes he had trouble catching his breath, even without physical activity. That's why you always made sure to carry a second inhaler with you anywhere you went. There were many things to look out for and the responsibility sometimes made your head spin. Actually, you should start making a list, maybe it'll ease some of your anxieties.

You yawned and laid down next to him. You made sure to put a hand on his plush chest, feeling the coarse hair under your palm. The steady rise and fall of it and the strong beating of his heart calmed you a bit. Often you would just lay there and study his face, fighting the urge to close your burning eyes. The way his eyes were moving frantically under closed lids. Black eyeliner still smudged, long eyelashes fluttering over soft cheeks. His beautifully shaped nose would twitch occasionally as if you’d tickled him with a feather. His marshmallow lips would move from time to time like he was talking, or singing. You didn’t really know, but that’s when you had to pay close attention. Once he started thrashing around you scooted back a bit, not wanting to get accidentally hit by him. Eventually he'd calm down again and you breathed a sigh of relief every time. You won't ever forget the one time he actually got up and started to walk around. It had taken you a few seconds to figure out that he was sleep walking

He had to be closely watched throughout the night and in a way you of course understood why he insisted on you staying with him. You could clearly see that he was scared of himself at times, scared for himself. So you did your best to be there for him, even though it was taxing at times. Not only as an employee, but as a friend. He needed it. You turned your head to the night stand and checked the time again. 10:03 AM. Damn.

It felt like you had closed your eyes for about a second when you felt something pulling at your hair. Your eyes shot open and you saw Elvis leaning over you, a few strands of your hair between his fingers.

“Wakey, wakey, sweetheart.” He cooed at you and started to braid your locks.

“Hey E, what time is it?” you asked groggily.

“Time to wake up, sweetheart,” he hummed.

“Very funny.” You sighed and closed your eyes again. At that, he gave a light yank to the small braid he held in his hands.

“Don’t go back to sleep, Julie baby,” he insisted.

“Alright okay, I’m awake.” You turned over again. 5:26 PM. Damn, it felt like you were asleep for a minute. “Was Charlie already here?” you asked, rubbing your eyes. He must have been, otherwise Elvis wouldn’t be so active already. Just like he couldn’t go to sleep without special help, he needed a little something extra to get up and function again. It was a vicious cycle, really.

“Yeah, he was.” He waved away as you sat up.

“Oh my god, shit, why didn’t you wake me up? I really slept in!”

“I did.” He stated with an innocent smile, feigning ignorance. “Also, I had to show him what a cutie you are when you're asleep. Did ya know ya pull the funniest faces? I can always tell what you're dreaming.” You decided not to comment on this and rolled your eyes, swinging your legs over the edge of the bed. He placed a hand on your shoulder, holding you back.

“Wait, sweetheart, there’s something I gotta talk to you about real quick.” You turned back to him, giving him your full attention and he smiled, pleased. “You remember those crazy guys who tried to get onstage while I was performing, made a big fuss? Lamar, uh, mentioned they saw some guys lurking around, uh, looking like they’re up to no good. Down in the casino.”

You had an idea where this was going. The paranoia that everyone felt around Elvis extended to Elvis himself. He always felt like there was someone after him. To a degree you could understand, as there were real incidents like death threats, rude letters, or fans who got a little too excited and almost attacked him.

You had experienced it yourself after seeing the mean looks on the faces of some female fans directed towards you, and waiting for something to happen, but you knew not to let it affect you too much. However, Elvis took these things to heart, and you didn’t understand why his entourage would feed into those fears and the paranoia. The guys Lamar was talking about were probably harmless, but due to Elvis’ own concern he felt the need to tell him. Elvis made them see a threat everywhere. Everyone was aware that Elvis needed to know that he was in charge, that he was in control, and that he would decide what’s best for everyone, because he just knew.

He had told you numerous times that it was best to always carry a gun. After all he carried one everywhere he went, even onstage. The shock you felt at that particular revelation is hard to describe, but, as you had learned by now, it was best not to question things. You had declined every time he suggested it, finding it unreasonable, but now you had a feeling you were about to have that discussion again.

“...Sweetheart, I want you to be safe.” He continued and squeezed your shoulder.

“You don’t gotta worry about me. I can take care of myself.” You insisted, raising your chin.

He tilted his head to the side in disbelief. “Can ya? I remember ya nearly leaping into my arms, scared to death at the sight of a little spider. When was that? Three days ago?” he mused with a shit eating grin on his face.

You lightly smacked his arm. “That’s not the same! And the spider wasn’t small. For the record.”

“It was an itty bitty spider, sweetheart. It’s not my fault that everything looks huge for poor little Julie.” He smirked, waggling his eyebrows.

“Okay, I might be scared of spiders, but I’m not intimidated by some guys Lamar and the others deem ‘up to no good’,” you countered, mimicking the quotation marks with your fingers.

“It’s not funny, ya know how people can get. Pretty thing like you can turn into a damsel in distress real quick. Trust me. I just want ya to be able to protect yourself.”

“Elvis, we’ve been through this,” you sighed.

He took a deep breath. “Sweetheart, I- I feel responsible for you... Give me some peace o-of mind,” he stammered, leaning closer towards you with a pleading look on his face.

“I’m an adult, you know.”

He pouted. “Then start a-acting like one. Julie, you a-are so damn stubborn, why can’t you just d-do what I tell you,” he argued, throwing his arms up in frustration.

You took a deep breath and placed your hands on his shoulders. “Elvis, I know that you mean well and I appreciate your concern-“

“Don’t brush me off, sweetheart. Will ya do as you’re told?”

You sighed. It’s true you were stubborn, but he was stubborn as well, and persuading him didn’t work this time. The discussion was pointless and you knew that in order to save you some trouble the best thing you could do was just agree. He wasn’t gonna give up, you could feel it. There was a determination and finality in his eyes that left no room for arguing. On the one hand it could be considered flattering that he was so concerned with your well-being, but on the other it was scary to think about what was going on in his head, pushing him to such decisions.

“I guess I could give it a try. Just for tonight, alright?” His hand moved from your shoulder and brushed against your chin in a feather light touch. It sent a warm tingle down your spine.

“Anyone ever tell you that you can be real difficult, sweetheart?” he stated with a tender smile.

“Actually, you’re the first. Everyone I interact with always makes sure to tell me that I’m an absolute delight. Highlight of their day.”

“Hush now,” he chuckled as he got up from the bed with a grunt. He rotated his shoulder multiple times and put a hand on his back with a sigh. You knew that today wasn’t a particularly good day for him.

“...How is your eye?” you inquired with a more serious tone, getting up as well to fetch his sunglasses.

He squinted his eyes and shook his head with a small frown. “I’m good,” was the short answer you received. You carefully placed the glasses on his nose and wiped away some sweat that had gathered on his forehead. It always seemed to be there.

“Are you sure?”

“Stop worrying your pretty lil’ head about that,” he replied, tugging at your hair again. You smiled at him and gently ran your hand through his soft hair. He leaned into it.

“...I don’t-“

“I know my body, woman. I’m grown, let me handle it,” he cut you off, raising an eyebrow.

The irony of this exchange wasn’t lost on you. You had the feeling it wasn’t lost on him either as he cleared his throat and walked away from you and your touch. At times it could happen that he was self aware. Fleeting moments really.

He always claimed to know what everyone was supposed to do. If it were only suggestions he offered, but no, he had to make sure they were carried out. Preferably he carried them out himself, at least then he knew it was properly taken care of. He even felt responsible for things that weren’t his business in the slightest, but the moment someone else merely suggested that he should take care of something concerning himself, he’d shut them down in a second. Didn’t even want to hear it.

You followed him and he cast a warning look over his shoulder, as if he saw you opening your mouth through the back if his head. He opened a closet and pulled out a leather case, putting it on the glass table in front of him and swiftly opening it. At the sight of what was inside, a gasp escaped you: various firearms, badges and bullets, shining and reflecting the sun light, almost blinding you. His obsession with law enforcement was nothing new to you, he had proudly showed you his Reserve Captain of the City of Memphis Badge and his police flashlight the first time you met him, but seeing all these guns in front of you was something else.

“Pretty, aren’t they?” he smirked.

“Uhm, they’re certainly uh... This one’s pretty.” You pointed at a small gun decorated with golden leaves and different animals, which were carefully engraved into the steel.

“I had a feeling you’d like this one.” He responded proudly and picked it up with trained expertise.

“I like the animal,” you remarked, mentally slapping yourself for not coming up with something more clever.

He chuckled. “It’s a Smith & Wesson 19, I had it custom made in Germany. You wanna hold it?”

“Uh..”

“Don’t worry, sweetheart, it’s not loaded. See?” He opened the cylinder and showed you the empty chambers, then shut it again and pressed the gun into your hands.

“A pretty lil’ gun for a pretty lil’ girl.” He smirked as he assessed you carefully, licking his lips. You felt heat rising up your chest and neck and cleared your throat.

“...I don’t even know how to..” you trailed off, the gun still laying in your open palms, looking a bit lost.

“Here, let me,” he mumbled as he stepped behind you.

Suddenly his strong arms were around you, surrounding you, trapping you. For a moment you forgot how to breathe, your body betraying you and your muscles not moving the way you wanted them to. You were still able to move your eyes though and saw his big hands engulfing your smaller ones. He gently guided your trembling hands, showing you how to properly hold the gun. You weren’t sure if the trembling was caused by the highly dangerous firearm in your grasp or the equally dangerous Rock ‘n’ Roll star behind you. You took a shuddering breath after what felt like hours and promptly realised it was a grave mistake. His smell now surrounded you as well, an intoxicating mix of sweat, cologne and cigars. If you leaned back just a little you could feel the swell of his stomach, you already felt the heat of his body radiating off him. Oh, how you wanted to let go and just-

“Are ya still with me, sweetheart?” he chuckled behind you, his lip curling. Shoot.

“...Uh sorry, what did you say? I was... concentrating,” you stammered, relieved that at least he couldn’t see the blush on your cheeks.

He stepped forward with a small laugh, finally closing the gap between your bodies, trapping you completely to him. You were only wearing a tank top and the v neck of his shirt was so deep that you could feel his coarse chest hair against your shoulder. Sweet Jesus, this man was driving you insane! His warm hands started to work yours again, correcting angles and adjusting your hold. The coolness of his rings and the sight of the veins on the back of his hand caused your heartbeat to pick up once more.

“Yeah, like this... Wait, your finger has to go there... Relax your lil’ fingers, sweetheart... I said relax... That’s it,” he murmured, his rough fingertips now slowly gliding over your wrist, steadying your hand. He played you like an instrument, one of his guitars maybe, waiting to be tuned. You swallowed hard and prayed that he couldn’t see the goosebumps forming on your arms, or feel your pulse racing under his nimble fingers.

“Good. Now we gotta work on your stance.”

Without warning, you felt his strong thigh pressing itself between your legs, nudging your feet apart. You let out a surprised yelp and nearly lost your balance, but he hastily wrapped an arm around your middle, fingers digging into your stomach.

“Woah, careful there, little lady... Am I making you nervous?” he asked with a smirk. He knew damn well, he just enjoyed watching you squirm. His warm breath tickled your ear and for a second you thought you felt his soft lips gently brushing against your cheek. It was only for a millisecond, but it sent a shock through your core. Did he really just…?

“...You w-wish, huh? I -I just want to be careful with this... weapon of mass destruction,” you gasped and tried to conceal it with a laugh, feeling a bit breathless. He slowly ran his hands over your waist, down to your hips.

“Sweetheart, quit being so jittery. You gotta stop being so damn careful with this ‘weapon of mass destruction’,” he chuckled. “It can handle ya having a bit of fun with it.” He spoke in a low voice and pressed himself even closer to you, the double meaning of his words not lost on you. You wanted to deny it for your own sanity, but you were sure that it was the outline of his dick you felt against your backside. Was he wearing no underwear under these silk pyjamas? You felt a lump in your throat and your mouth turned dry. Like a desert. Oh god.

“What is it, Julie darlin’? Cat got your tongue?” he whispered, his chin resting on your shoulder. You stared straight ahead, because if you turned your head just a little bit, your lips would certainly brush against his. Then it would be game over. You had to focus, which was a difficult task with him continuing to knead the flesh of your hips without a care in the world.

You were used to his flirting and touching and, of course, you were both aware for your mutual feelings for each other, but you had made an agreement not to act on it, protecting both of you. Spending every night with him, though platonic, already meant treading on thin ice, and feeling him like this, so close, made your resistance grow weaker by the minute. He apparently had an equally hard time holding back and you knew it was up to you to stop right now. No matter how much didn’t want this moment to end.

You freed yourself from his grasp and let out a barely audible sigh at the loss of contact. Without his comforting warmth surrounding you, you couldn’t suppress a little shiver. You turned around and saw him drop his arms that still hovered in front of him as if you were still there. He adjusted his glasses and ran a hand over his mouth.

You got into position to hold the gun like he just showed you. “Like this?” you questioned. You knew it probably wasn’t perfect, you were hardly able to pay attention to what he had just explained to you. Maybe you hoped he would get close to you again, help you and correct you, so you could feel his wide frame against your smaller one. Just maybe. He cleared his throat and looked down.

“Yeah, it’s good,” he murmured and went over to the glass table again, the moment you two just shared now over. With a frown, you followed him and peered over his shoulder to see what he was doing. He opened a small box, revealing various bullets.

“...Now, for the Smith & Wesson you’re gonna need this .357 Magnum cartridge...” He continued listing facts about the ammunition with you listening dutifully, as if nothing happened between you mere seconds ago. Every now and then, he’d look at you to check if you were still paying attention to him and, though you didn’t really understand what he was talking about, you nodded your head every now and then. He showed you how to open and close the cylinder and placed a bullet in each of the six chambers. Alright, now it was loaded. Great.

“Here, watch this,” he said and got into position to shoot. You thought he wanted to show you the hold and stance again, but you were wrong. You saw his finger coming dangerously close to the trigger and, without warning, he pulled it. You shrieked as he actually shot at the sofa at the other end of the room. Was he completely losing his mind now, just shooting inside a building? You wanted to remind yourself not to question things, but this was too much. You could not leave it like this. Couldn’t pretend it was normal.

“Elvis! What are you doing?” you screamed, covering your ears with your hands.

“I’m demonstrating,” he answered, shrugging his shoulders.

“...You... You shot a pillow!”

“It’s ugly anyways.”

“Ugh... I don’t believe you sometimes,” you said, shaking your head. He actually had the audacity to laugh.

“Come on Julie, it’s funny.”

“...You’re a... a man child!” you said with a small nervous chuckle, your ears still ringing.

“And you’re a killjoy!”

“Oh my god, I’ll better go downstairs now, before you start shooting the windows. And you should start getting ready, you have a performance later, remember?”

“What was I just saying about a killjoy?”

“And put the gun away!”

“Lord, woman, you’re horrible.”

“It’s called common sense, E.”

“Boring,” he said, although he couldn’t hide how the corners of his mouth lifted into a small smile.

“Common sense!” you laughed and gathered your stuff as well as the keys for your apartment. The apartment you barely used now, spending most of your time and nearly every night with him, but you insisted on keeping it. You still wanted to keep that last boundary, the illusion that you weren’t as deeply involved as you were. You didn’t want to admit it to yourself.

On your way out you turned to him and waved.

“See you in an hour or so. If you need something just give me a call.”

“You forgot something,” he said, raising an eyebrow.

You halted in your tracks. Man, you just couldn’t get away with anything today. You sighed and he walked towards you with a serious expression on his face once more. He handed you the gun he had used to shoot the poor pillow.

“Take it, Julie.” Maybe it was better if you just took it. Even if you wouldn’t necessarily use it, it would be a precaution.

“...Alright, boss.” You mock saluted and grinned up to him. He smiled fondly, his eyes twinkling, as he brushed some of your hair behind your ear and his thumb briefly traced along your jawline towards your chin, lingering there for a moment.

“I knew you could be a good girl.”

“You like it?”

He hummed and leaned against the door frame, looking at you with a mixture of surprise and satisfaction.

“...Then I’ll have to rethink it.”

His face dropped and you let out a small giggle at his expression. You enjoyed it when you got to tease him and sometimes it was just too easy with him. He needed some light-hearted fun like anyone else, but it rarely happened; the possibility of him not appreciating the joke and the consequences of that always lingering in the back of everybody’s mind.

“You little minx,” he muttered with a grin and reached out for your waist. You backed away.

“Ah! No time to be silly! I told you we have to start getting ready,” you laughed and turned around. “See you later!” He leaned against the door frame and gently smiled at you until you were out of sight.

After arriving at your apartment, you opted for a quick shower and carefully reapplied your makeup the way Elvis wanted you to. He showed you exactly how to do it, claiming that everyone in the inner circle represented him and there was a certain image to uphold. You figured this made sense and complied with his rules. He was very particular about these things, always concerned with what others thought of him. Whether it was the fans not showing enough enthusiasm at his shows, or the tabloids printing horrible stories about him, it was enough to turn him sour and moody for a couple of hours.

After wiping off some excess lip gloss, you carefully eyed the gun and picked it up. Sighing, you chewed on your bottom lip. Were you really gonna go out there with a gun, even for effect?

It felt like just another one of Elvis’ silly little ideas, thinking he could show you how it worked in a 10-minute crash course and then off you would go. He never thought these things through and his irresponsibility annoyed you.

“Nah, this is stupid,” you muttered to yourself, hiding the gun in your closet. Elvis wouldn’t know. You needed to be the sensible one.

You grabbed your bag and walked towards the door. As you turned the handle, you casted one last look over your shoulder, facing the closet. You shook your head and closed the door behind you.

On your way down you briefly passed the Colonel, but refused to spare him a glance. He showed up less and less, preferring to work everything out from a safe distance. Probably too much of a coward to face Elvis and the rest of the entourage.

After Elvis had tried to fire him a few weeks ago, there was a noticeable discomfort with the situation on all sides involved. Vernon had advised Elvis that it would be better to keep the Colonel around. Finances and debts played a major role, Vernon explained to you after you asked him about it. There was no way out of this horrid situation.

It made you mad and your frustrations were only made worse by your employer’s reaction, or his lack of reaction. Elvis’ resignation regarding the whole topic, his acceptance that there was nothing he could do, made you incredibly sad. Here was this man they called King, adored by millions of people and surrounded by luxury, and he was utterly powerless. He knew that he didn’t have the willpower, nor the energy to fight anymore, and just passively let these things happen to him.

When you arrived in the backstage area you quickly spotted Charlie and walked up to him, making small talk while you were waiting for Elvis. He showed up a few minutes later, looking as nervous as he did almost every time. You saw that he was sweating again already, his face shining and some of his black hair sticking to his face. You walked up to him and gently dabbed his face with a towel before placing it around his shoulders. He let out a shaky exhale and searched your eyes.

“Ready?” you asked with smile. He huffed a laugh and looked down, shaking his head the tiniest bit. You almost didn’t see it.

“Hold my hand for a bit, will ya, sweetheart?” he whispered and the vulnerability in his eyes was almost too much. One would think after 20 years in the spotlight he would have overcome his stage fright, but every new crowd was another challenge for him. ‘Every audience is different and they never saw me live before. So it’s like performing for the first time every time,’ he always said. You stepped closer to him and reached out for his hand, squeezing it and soothingly rubbing your thumb over the back of it.

“You’re gonna be great, I know it. I see you performing on that stage every evening and I never get tired of watching you. These fans, they’re here for you and you won’t disappoint them.”

“You really think so?” he inquired, his voice more similar like a little boy’s rather than a grown, experienced rock star.

“Yes, E, I do. You’ll blow them away.”

“If you say so, Julie baby.”

“Don’t you think I’m qualified enough to judge?” you asked with a teasing tone.

“Oh sweetheart, I think you’re highly competent,” he quipped, raising an eyebrow.

“I like to remind you of that every now and then.”

“I couldn’t possibly forget,” he smirked, though the tremor in his hand still gave him away.

“Good answer E. See? You know how to charm people. Now you just gotta go out there and do the same.” You squeezed his hand one more time and looked up to him with an encouraging smile.

He took a deep breath when Also Sprach Zarathustra started playing and looked up to the ceiling as if sending up a quick prayer.

“Okay E, let me have a look at you,” you said and reached for his towel, wiping away some of the sweat that had gathered on his face again, as well as some eyeliner that was already smudged. “...Yep, you can go on stage like this.” He gently cupped your chin, making you shiver slightly.

“I’ll be looking for you in the audience. Wish me luck.”

“Good luck,” you whispered and fixed some of his hair that had fallen out of place. “Now you’re perfect.” His eyes briefly flashed with what you thought was insecurity, but it was quickly replaced with a smirk.

“You can be quite charming if you want to as well, Julie baby. You sure it’s not you who’s supposed to be on that stage?” he winked.

“When I start singing, they’ll just flee for their lives,” you joked and he flashed you another smile before turning around, making his way towards the stage.

You gave him a thumbs up and watched him until he was out of sight. That’s when you noticed Jerry standing rather close, looking at you with an unnervingly neutral expression. You had a creeping feeling he’s silently watched the entire exchange between you and Elvis and, though nothing happened, you couldn’t help but feel slightly awkward and exposed under his assertive gaze. You cleared your throat and made your way towards the auditorium.

When you watched Elvis on stage there was no indication of his earlier nervousness. As always, he seemed at home in the bright spotlight, truly in his element. You cheered him on and just ignored the times he stumbled over the lyrics or couldn’t fully hit a note because he was out of breath. In fact, these were the little things that made the performance feel real, evoking genuine emotions within you.

After two hours of Elvis working his magic, you made you way back towards entrance to the backstage area to accompany him back to his suite. You stood in the corridor, mentally going through everything he needed for the night when you heard someone walking behind you.

“Hey, you.” You turned around to see a man around your age approaching, slurring his words. “Uh, do you happen to know where the restrooms are?”

You blinked. “Oh, uh you’re really in the wrong place. This is the way backstage.”

It took some time for him to register what you just said and you could see the gears turning in his head.

“...Oh... huh, you really seem to know your way around here. You come here often?” he asked with a smile that you think was meant to be charming.

You couldn’t help but laugh at his clumsy attempt of flirting. He was obviously drunk, but he was just trying to make conversation. Emphasis on trying.

“Believe it or not, for the last few weeks I’ve been here every night.”

“That’s crazy.” He said with big eyes, but then he nearly gagged.

“Oh my god, okay, come on, I’ll show you the restroom. Don’t want you to throw up all over the corridor.” You said, pulling him along.

“You’re really kind. I’m sorry, I’m not usually this drunk.”

“Yeah, I gathered that. First time in Las Vegas?”

“How do you know?”

“Uh, just a feeling. Happens to the best of us.”

He smiled down at you and promptly lost his footing. You stumbled until both of you fell to the ground with him on top of you. You groaned at the impact and looked around. Trying to get up wasn’t possible with his dead weight on you, so you pushed against his chest. His reaction was slow to non existent. You were sure he was almost passing out.

“Get off me!” you said a bit louder, trying to get his attention.

It seemed like a cruel joke that it was in that particular moment that Elvis, Charlie, Jerry and Lamar turned around the corner, witnessing the scene before them. And boy, it looked bad. You pushed against the stranger’s chest one more time, urging him to get up. He didn’t even have time to react, as he was yanked off by strong hands.

You looked up, relieved to be able to breathe freely again. Elvis had him by the collar of his shirt, pressing him against the wall, with Lamar and Charlie exchanging concerned looks. Jerry walked towards you with a frown and reached out his hand to help you up.

“Were you having fun?” Elvis hissed, his voice dangerously low. His blue eyes were burning beneath his shades, their expression almost scaring you.

“Elvis, he didn’t do anything!” you interjected. Jerry gently grasped your arm, holding you back.

“I asked you a question, you son of a bitch,” Elvis spat angrily.

From the way he stood you could tell that his back was giving him even more trouble than when he got up today, probably from a daring move he had just attempted during his performance, but he still managed to put on a brave face that would convince anyone that he’d still be up for a fight. Not that it mattered much to the drunk stranger, you weren’t sure that he even registered that it was Elvis Presley talking to him.

You ignored Jerry’s hand on your elbow and stepped towards Elvis.

“He’s drunk, I wanted to help him. He fell on me Elvis, nothing happened.”

It was as if he didn’t even hear you. You put a hand on his back, feeling him tremble beneath you, a combination of the post show adrenaline and pure rage. His silence was really starting to scare you. That’s how you knew it was serious. Really serious.

“Please, let go of him.” you begged when he didn’t answer you. You glanced over to the other guys, feeling helpless. All you got were neutral expressions, no one daring to move a finger. Elvis took a deep breath and pointed a ring clad finger at the stranger’s face.

“If you ever come near her again... if I ever see you again.. you’re gonna regret it. Now get outta my sight,” He warned. With a nod towards Lamar and the other two he let go of him and they escorted him away.

You looked at Elvis, who was still breathing heavily. He flexed his hands multiple times and eyed you carefully.

“Julie, where’s your gun?”

Shit.

Your silence answered his question.

“...I don’t believe this,” he mumbled, roughly grabbing your wrist and pulling you along with him, not saying another word to you. Once you were up in his suite again, he slammed the door and looked down on you with a frown.

“Answer me this: What would you have done if I hadn’t been there in time?” he asked, starting to pace around.

“I wasn’t in danger,” you answered, not moving from your spot.

“Damnit, I warned you about guys like him. I knew something like this would happen!” He pulled out the Colt 45 he hid under his pants leg and strode towards you. “I gave you one of these for a reason.” He continued, waving it in front of your face.

“Elvis, please put the gun away,” you said calmly, remembering the stunt he pulled a few hours ago with the pillow.

“I do what I damn well p-please,” he scoffed and turned away from you. You took a step towards him.

“Please, stop acting like this.”

“You don’t get to t-tell me what to do,” he said, pointing his finger at you.

“Goddamnit Elvis! What is going on?!” You cried, fed up with his antics.

“Why don’t you just do what I-I tell you?”

“Because I wanted to decide what I’m going to do,” you explained, lowering your voice a little to appease him.

“Great h-how that worked out f-for ya!” he spat. You scoffed, at a loss for words, and slammed a hand against your forehead.

“Julie, don’t fucking act like I’m the one who’s in the wrong now! I won’t have you disrespecting me like this,” he warned, his eyes burning into yours with a fury that almost made you back up a little.

“It’s not that! I’m trying to tell you that nothing happened! Look at me, I’m alright!” you argued with desperation in your voice as you gestured at yourself. Did he even listen to you?

“But what if something happened? Julie, I swear to god!” He was seething, his face red with exertion.

“What, Elvis?” you snapped. He just glared at you, his chest heaving.

“You know what? I’m not gonna discuss this right now. I’ll come back later,” you shouted and left the apartment without waiting for his reaction.

Just before you shut the door behind you, you heard him yelling at you, “Julie, if you leave now-“

That’s when you closed the door. And for a moment you were scared; scared because his anger was probably directed towards you now. You didn’t mean to upset him, he was going through so much already, but you also knew that it wouldn’t make any sense to try and talk to him right now. His temper was infamous among those in the inner circle, it was one of the first things you were warned about.

In order to have a normal conversation again he would have to calm down first. You had to calm down as well, knowing that you’d probably say something stupid if he continued to act this way. You felt tears of frustration and anger pricking at your eyes and almost ran down the corridor towards the elevator.

You found yourself wandering through the foyer and saw Jerry sitting on a sofa, apparently deep in thought. You let out a sigh of relief as, within the Memphis Mafia, he was the one that you trusted the most. Not only was he the only one who dared to challenge Elvis at times, but he also had known Elvis for a long time and was a great listener, which is why you’d occasionally come to him for advice.

“Hey, Jerry,” you greeted as you approached him tentatively. He looked up to you and blinked.

“Oh.. hey Julie. Are you okay? You still look a bit shaken... Um, don’t worry, we took care of that guy and escorted him back to his friends. We suggested that it would be better for them to leave. No one’s gonna bother you again.” You sat down next to him.

“He was harmless, Jerry, just drunk. I’m more worried about Elvis... He... um just threw another hissy fit and I’m afraid I made it worse.” With another sigh you sank into the soft pillows behind you, though relaxing wasn’t really an option right now.

“Yeah... he was really pissed about this guy. It doesn’t help that he already felt agitated the whole day. I think something just snapped in him... How did you make it worse though?”

“I walked out on him, mid argument.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah, oh. You know, he wanted me to carry a gun, because Lamar thought he saw some gangsters running around the casino... making him go crazy. He wanted me to carry a gun, knowing I have no experience with it, nor the ambition to be honest. I didn’t have it with me and he just... lost his damn mind.”

“I see.” You looked at him expectantly, but he sighed and shrugged.

“Julie... He wants to look out for you. I know he only means well,” he chuckled. “He means well most of the time, it’s just the execution that goes horribly wrong.” You felt a gentle smile tugging at the corners if your lips.

“Yeah, I know that, and I really appreciate his concern, but he needs to know that there are other perspectives as well. People might think differently than him,” you replied while absentmindedly playing with a loose thread on the cushion next to you. He nodded in understanding and turned to you.

“But that’s the thing, he thinks he knows best. And, as I said, he wants the best for everyone. He’s always worried and... concerned about everyone’s well being, wanting to keep everyone around him happy. Sometimes he even tries to fix things that aren’t even his business... It causes him sleepless nights, really.” He shook his head with a frown.

“God, I feel so bad, but he really got on my last nerve today. He shot a damn pillow and thought it was the funniest thing in the world.”

“That’s nothing. He... uh regularly shoots his television sets when there’s something on that he doesn’t like.”

“He does what now?” you asked, your eyebrows raised.

“It’s true. He really does things... his own way. That’s how I’d put it.”

“He’s nuts sometimes. Gosh, I just hope I didn’t mess up too bad this time. I know it’s right for me to stand up to my beliefs, but still.”

“I think he’d forgive you almost everything.” Your gaze drifted towards him, your lips pursed.

“I hope so... Do I have to apologise?” you asked, beginning to genuinely think you did something wrong now. He sighed.

“Julie, I know Elvis. Let me just say it would probably be better that way.”

“But do you think I should?”

“He wants to be right, discussing something like this with him won’t get you far.”

You hummed, this wasn’t really the answer you were looking for, but you knew it was all you’d get from him.

“And... uh there were no other incidents today? I didn’t hear anything. You know, about the weird guys Lamar thought he saw earlier today.”

“No, nothing. I guess it was a false alarm.” He shrugged. You couldn’t help the small chuckle that escaped your mouth. This was what started this entire debacle.

“Julie I know what you think, but it’s better to be safe than sorry,” he tried to explain. You hummed again and decidedly pulled off the string you’d been twirling the entire time.

“You’re probably right. I think I’ll go upstairs again and see if he’s calmed down a little. Hopefully he hasn't trashed the damn place. Because who's gonna clean it up?” she asked and pointed both thumbs towards herself.

He let out a little snort. “Alright, take care, Julie,” he said as he watched you get up.

“I will, thanks Jerry.”

With that you turned and made your way back through the foyer, thinking about the upcoming conversation with your boss. It was weird to think about him like that, and you had to remind yourself of that particular fact every now and then. You wandered around the hotel for almost half an hour before building up enough nerve to face him again.

When you finally opened the door to his suite with the key he’d given you, you spotted him sitting on his bed dressed in his silk pyjamas again and fumbling around with his jewellery.

“You’ve calmed down again, sweetheart?” He slowly got up, a rather goofy smile on his face.

“Me?” you asked, pointing to yourself.

“Got quite hysterical when ya left,” he said, approaching you with a grin. You raised your eyebrows, your mouth hanging open for a few seconds.

“I got hysterical?” Was he serious right now? You turned on your heel, your hand on your forehead, the whole apology you had prepared on your way up here now thrown out of the window. He couldn’t mean that now, could he? He followed you and placed his hands on your arms, turning you around, towards him.

“Wait sweetheart, don’t be like that. Come on, it’s okay, Julie baby, I know how women can get. Y’all are more tender hearted,” he said, putting his arms around you and stroking your hair.

You frowned and tried to take a step back, wanting to look at him, but he tightened his grip on you, keeping you in place. You’ve never seen someone with mood swings like him. It was extreme to the point where he could be irrational, one could never know what to expect from him. But don’t question things! You leaned into him, not really knowing if this was meant to comfort you or him.

The way he held himself and the slightly dazed expression in his blue eyes explained how he was so calm. He must have taken his damn pills already, otherwise he wouldn’t be this relaxed after the argument the two of you had. Especially after you stormed off, which must have made him even angrier. Now it seemed almost forgotten as he more and more leaned against you for support.

You desperately wanted to throw away all his medication, the fact that he never really dealt with his emotions and just numbed them was driving you mad, though you weren’t convinced that this alone was responsible for his reactions. His extraordinary talent to twist situations and circumstances so that they’d work in his favour could be a gift for him, but a curse for everyone else. You almost never got to discuss situations like this with him, properly working things out.

“Come on, sit down with me, sweetheart,” he pleaded, holding out his hands.

“Alright,” you replied with a neutral expression, despite still clearly seeing the image of him with that damn gun in front of you.

He led you over to his bed and sat down across from you, engulfing your hands with his bigger ones and hold them tight, taking a deep breath. His mouth opened and closed multiple times before speaking.

“Listen... I’m sorry for getting so angry at you earlier. I-I didn’t want to scare ya. I was just worried. Ya gotta believe me.”

The genuinely remorseful look on his face made your irritation dissipate slightly. You sighed. Communication is key.

“...And I’m sorry for yelling at you, I shouldn’t have done it. I know you mean well, but I was angry as well. Well, frustrated...you know what I think about guns,” you almost whispered, searching his eyes, hoping and praying he’d understand. He looked down and bit his lip, looking a bit bashful.

“...Yeah, I-I know sweetheart. I just can’t bear the thought of something happening to you. When I saw that fucker on top of you, I-I could have killed him.” His face became flushed again at the mere memory. You nodded and just squeezed his hands, knowing that explaining the situation again wouldn’t help. He dropped his head.

“Don’t you understand, Julie? W-What if I lose you?...Who would annoy me all day?” he added, after looking up again with a small smile. You forced a smile to match his while trying to ignore his vulnerability in the former half of the statement.

“Oh, I’m sure you would find someone in a heartbeat. You’re Elvis Presley.” His face grew serious again.

“No. Not someone like you.”

“Elvis..” you whispered, pressing your lips together as you felt your face begin to crumple, the emotions of the whole day finally catching up to you. Did he really mean it or did he want to distract from the actual conversation you were having? You hated how your voice trembled when you spoke up again. “We should really talk about-“ He put his hand on your cheek and watched you with a tender look in his eyes.

“No, you don’t have to say anything. I don’t wanna hear any more of it. I’m just glad we’re getting along again. I don’t like arguing with you.” Well, so much for that.

“Me neither,” you eventually uttered with a small sniffle, your eyes burning. You didn’t know if it felt more like giving in or giving up.

“Oh, sweetheart. It’s okay, it’s okay. It’s all good again. Don’t worry. I-I won’t bother you with this again, okay? It’s all good again. All good.” He mumbled almost meditatively and guided your head to lay against his shoulder, your cheek brushing against his coarse chest hair.

You weren’t convinced of how serious he was about not bringing up the topic again, but for now you’d take it, since he left you no other choice. You knew it must be horrible inside his head and he really couldn’t help the way he was sometimes. He just wanted the best for you. It showed in the way he gently stroked your hair and shushed you, as if soothing a frightened child. And, for the second time that day, you thought you felt the feather light brush of his lips, this time against your temple, as if assuring you that everything was okay. As if he’d read your mind. It made you feel hot and cold at the same time.

Right now you didn’t have the energy to fight against the comforting feeling of his embrace and his affection and just let yourself sink into it. His ability to make you feel completely at ease, his softness, warmth and smell, combined with the rhythmic stroking of his strong hands almost lulled you to sleep.

You felt a sudden calm wash over you, the weird buzzing in your head and the tingling feeling of anxiety on your skin slowly disappearing. The silent promise that everything was going to be alright and that he would take care of everything for you felt like a safety blanket.

“Hey, E?”

He answered with a ‘Hmm?’ and you felt the vibrations of his chest against your cheek.

“Thank you.”

“For what?”

“I don’t know... for being there. The whole thing really stressed me out.”

“Well, you know, Julie baby, I have healing hands,” he said, shrugging as if it was the most normal thing.

“I think so too,” you chuckled. Not ironically, like you did so often. It was genuine this time, The more time you spend with him the more you thought he actually possessed some kind of magic, influencing everyone around him. Sometimes that was really no other explanation. He grinned at you, his eyes twinkling.

“So... what now, magic man?” you asked.

“...We could watch The Godfather again, so you can fawn over Marlon Brando?” He proposed. You laughed.

“You know, every day I regret it a little bit more that I told you about this silly childhood crush.”

“When I asked you, you said he was your favourite actor,” he retorted a tad accusingly, a little pout on his face to emphasize his point.

“Yes, I realise my mistake now,” you said with a hand over your heart, feigning shock.

After a few seconds though you weren’t able to hold your back your laughter and an involuntary giggle escaped you. He started smiling as well, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes. You now knew you had actually bruised his ego with that statement back then. He asked you this particular question only a few days after you met him and you naively answered with the first thing that came to mind, not really knowing the gravity of it. Not really knowing... him. How important these things were for him. Looking back, it was definitely some kind of test that you failed miserably, and he made sure to remind you of that faux pas every now and then, probably still a bit offended and wounded.

“... Do you want me to read to you again? Maybe... um you can try to go to sleep a little earlier tonight, what do you think?” you offered, trying to change the subject. Thankfully he bought into it.

“Mhm.. you always take such good care of me. Like a mama.”

“Well, thanks for that,” you answered, a bit unsure if the second part was really a compliment or not. He scooted closer, laying his head on your shoulder and throwing an arm around your middle, his hand finding its place at your waist.

“...No, I mean it, Julie. I-I really admire that about ya.” He raised his head again, looking deeply into your eyes. “A-And I don’t think I tell ya enough,” he whispered and squeezed your sides.

You felt your pulse quicken and let out a shuddering breath. Was it nervousness? Was it the stress? Was it anticipation? Excitement? There was certainly no denying that you liked the way his hands felt on your body.

“I’m sorry if I’m like this to you sometimes. I-I can’t always help it... My head is just so fucked up sometimes I know I can be a nasty asshole... I just w-want you to know what you mean to me,” he stammered with a frown. You knew it was hard for him to get these words out and you adored and hated him for saying them out loud.

“Elvis, you aren’t any of those things. And-“

He closed his eyes and gently nuzzled his nose against yours, making you stop mid sentence. He was so incredibly tender with you, even the fact that the tip of his nose was nearly freezing due to the cool room temperature didn’t deter you from leaning into his touch.

“...Yes, I am. I’m a selfish bastard who can’t even keep an agreement he made. A promise to the woman he adores.”

Every rational thought you had was thrown out of the window at this. The only thing you knew, felt, was him. This pull between you two had been there from the beginning and you so desperately fought against it. There had been many instances, many battles where you almost surrendered yourself to him, but you always managed to put your rational thoughts first.

Now, with his strong hands on your body, his beautiful face so close that you could feel his hot breath over your lips and the words that just slipped past his marshmallow ones, you felt something snap within you.

You leaned forward and eagerly pressed your lips against his, a surprised squeal escaping you at the same time. You were about to pull back and apologise, but that thought was quickly thrown out the window when you felt him kissing you back fiercely.

The bed under you creaked when he shifted his weight, moving to lay almost on top of you. His chains dangled from his wide chest and you reached around to pull him even closer to you. He complied and leaned down even further, his rounded belly now pressing up against you. A gasp escaped you at the feeling of his weight pushing you down into the mattress, utterly trapped and at his mercy.

One of his ring clad hands moved up from your hip to gently cup your cheek. The cool metal felt good on your burning skin and you felt Elvis smiling into the kiss. His lips were so incredibly soft and hot as they sloppily worked against yours and you weren’t able to form one coherent thought. When his hot, wet tongue slipped out to trace over your bottom lip you couldn’t contain a little groan.

You reached up to tread your fingers through the coarse hair on his chest, stroking up and down, while he tightened his grip on your waist. The contradicting roughness you felt against your hands versus the wonderful softness against your lips was an intoxicating combination. It was just so very him. He pulled away from you, allowing you to catch your breath and you looked at each other, breathing heavily.

“...Elvis, this isn’t good,” you whispered, a half-hearted attempt to stop him. To stop yourself. Both.

He licked his lips and trailed a lazy finger over your hip.

“Ya don’t like this?” he asked, looking at you from beneath his shades incredulously.

“Oh god...I- I do,” you stammered helplessly after he had rubbed soothing circles over your hip for almost a minute.

He smiled and leaned down to bury his face against your neck, peppering soft, sweet kisses along your pulse point, making you giggle. Then you felt his warm hand gliding under your shirt, pushing the fabric upwards until your bra was exposed. His attack on your neck stopped and he leaned back to watch you, biting his lip. What a pretty picture you were for him, with your face wonderfully flushed, biting your lip and breathing heavily. Your face grew even more hot under his intense gaze and the way he licked his lips and smirked down at you sent shock waves to your core. You quickly pulled the shirt over your head and dropped it onto the floor next to the bed. Ugh, still too hot.

“Lord have mercy,” he breathed, as he watched your chest rise and fall quickly with every laboured breath you took. He cupped one breast in each hand and his lip curled, a hint of mischief in his eyes.

“Ladies, you two look real fun. You can be my new best friends,” he cooed as he squeezed them together and leaned down to nuzzle into them with a playful growl. You laughed and the motion made them jiggle, much to his delight.

“E, you’re being silly,” you giggled.

“No, I’m being serious. I need to play with these before every show now. Will ya let me? Best stress balls ever, I’ll tell ya.”

“You are impossible. Can’t take you nowhere,” you replied with a grin and gently stroked his cheek.

“Let an old man have some fun, Julie baby,” he mumbled with a smile. He softly kissed your collarbone before carefully hoisting you up, his hands on your back, to unclasp your bra with his nimble fingers.

You let out a surprised ‘Oh!’ when he hastily pulled the undergarment off you and tossed it onto the floor. His eyes roamed over your form for what felt like hours, a mix of appreciation and concentration in his gaze, as if trying to memorize every little detail. It made you throw your arms over your face, a weak attempt to hide the fact that you were as red as a tomato. He clicked his tongue and reached up, wanting to move your arms away, finding it incredibly cute how flustered you were. He gently ran his fingers over your skin.

“Sweetheart, let me look at you,” he sang.

You stubbornly refused to let him see you and possibly laugh at you, and he quickly realised you wouldn’t budge. He smirked as he decided to alter his tactic. You felt his hands wandering downwards along you neck, over your chest and onto your stomach. He briefly paused there, his fingers drumming against your skin, before beginning to tickle your sides which caused you to squeal and laugh so hard that your stomach started to ache.

“E, stop!” you finally gasped, trying to catch your breath.

Eventually you moved your arms and swatted away his bold, exploring hands, making him grin triumphantly.

“You’re not playing fair!” you laughed.

“All is fair in love and war. Never heard of that?”

You wanted nothing more than to wipe that goofy, smug grin off his face when he leaned down to kiss the tip of your nose.

“...You’re such a pretty baby.” He whispered and rubbed his cheek against yours, reminding you of a cat, his sideburns tickling you. “Pretty, pretty, pretty.”

He mumbled into your cheek over and over again and you wrapped your arms around his wide frame. His hips started to move, slowly thrusting up against you in a steady pace and wetness pooled between your legs when you felt him growing against your clothed cunt. You let out a high pitched moan and his soft tongue licked a long stripe across your cheek in response. He felt your nails digging into his back, your fingers cramping and he softly whined against your ear, making you throb even more. God, it had to be a criminal offence to make such sounds.

You eagerly moved your hands to open the buttons of his deep v neck shirt, needing to see, feel his chest and stomach in their entire glory. It also felt unfair that you were almost naked and he was still fully clothed. After the first two buttons were open, you slipped your hand inside and stroked his soft belly. Suddenly he jolted away as if he’d burned himself. You drew back your hand and saw some of the insecurity you’d seen earlier this day flash in his eyes. But then it was gone again as quickly as it came and instead a stern look took over his beautiful features.

“Sweetheart, no,” he said determinedly.

“Why not?” you whined and reached out to fumble with the remaining buttons. He grasped your hands in his and lifted them to his mouth, kissing the back of them two, three, four times.

“...This is about you,” he muttered as he released your hands and moved to caress your bare stomach. You got the impression this statement wasn’t entirely true.

“But-“

“No buts, stubborn little lady.” He shook his head, his eyes trained on his fingers as they traced invisible patterns around your belly button.

“What happened to you liking it when I take care of you?” you pouted while lightly playing with his chains that were still dangling over you.

He reached up to brush some hair from your face and caressed your cheekbones with his knuckles.

“Please, Julie... let me show you,” he whispered with a sudden urgency in his voice, his eyes shining pleadingly under the tinted glass.

You removed his shades to get a better look at them. His deep blue eyes were almost completely black, pupils blown wide with desire, but there was also this intense vulnerability again, which overwhelmed you every time. You could tell how important this was for him right now and slowly nodded. Then you leaned forward and planted a quick kiss against his lips, which he almost anxiously returned, one hand coming up to softly knead your breast.

He eventually pulled away from you and moved down your body, gently kissing each pebbled nipple once, making you arch up against his skilled mouth before he trailed feather-light kisses along your stomach. He sat down between your legs and his hands skimmed over your hips until they stopped at the waistband of your pants. He briefly lifted you up, his hands on your butt and began to pull them down slowly. You watched with anticipation as he exposed more and more of your bare skin in slow motion, his eyebrows furrowed in concentration again. He did that a lot.

After your legs were finally completely bare under his praising eyes, he ran his hands up and down along them, whistling appreciatively. Then he gripped the back of your left knee and lifted it until your calf rested on his shoulder.

“Your legs, sweetheart,” he groaned and tapped against your thigh. “When I see you striding around with these in your lil’ platforms... Lordy, I just wanna be wrapped up in them. Every. Damn. Time.”

He turned his head and brushed his lips across your calf, the possessive grip on the back of your knee not faltering and his hot breath causing goosebumps to form on your skin. He pushed your knee back towards you until his soft mouth arrived at your ankle. Then he pulled off your shoes and tossed them off the bed, making them clatter as they landed next to the rest of your discarded clothes.

You raised your head when you felt his teeth grazing your skin, gently biting down on your ankle. He briefly kissed the light bite marks and moved up your calf again. The way his eyes were closed in bliss and his breathing ragged was almost too much for you to handle and you threw your head back into the pillow. He almost seemed to enjoy this more than you, the thought making you feel even warmer inside.

You promptly sat up again and wrapped your arms around his neck, needing to feel his velvety lips against yours again after the rest of your body got so much sweet attention from them. You held onto the hair at his neck when you felt his tongue lazily gliding over your bottom lip and moved your hips against his, feeling the slight bulge in his trousers. You reached down, your hand gliding over his crotch, feeling him half hard against your palm. He swiftly caught your wrist and brought it up to his cheek, shaking his head.

“Nuh uh, Julie baby, forget it. I already told you, this is about you. You really gotta to learn how to listen,” he chuckled, fingers gently tugging at your earlobe. “Now lie back, sweetheart, let me take care of ya. I’ll handle it.”

He hummed, his big hand sprawled across your chest, gently forcing you back against the pillow. You wordlessly stared at him as he moved back between your legs, his gaze lingering on the panties you still wore. He leaned down to get a better look at them and hooked his fingers under the waistband, toying with it.

After briefly meeting your eyes again and taking in your flushed face, he pulled them down, his hands grazing over your legs again. Your toes curled when he bunched your panties up in his fist with a grin.

“Sweetheart, these are soaked. Why didn’t ya say anything? Cat got your tongue again?” he cooed. You answered by wrapping your leg around his back, pulling him closer to you.

“Oh, I see we’re eager today, Julie baby? No words, just straight to the point. Hold on, let’s see what I can do about that,” he rumbled and lightly kissed along your inner thigh, getting closer and closer to your glistening pussy.

Just when you thought he’d pay attention to where you needed him most, he moved away again and started peppering your other thigh with sweet kisses and kitten licks.

“E! I swear-” you moaned, and tightened your leg around him, growing more and more impatient with him, the throbbing in your core nearly driving you insane.

“Oh, now she can talk again. What do you want, sweetheart?” he mumbled as he rubbed his cheek against your skin, barely able to conceal the smile tugging at his lips.

“That tickles, stop!” you laughed and moved to scoot away from him, but his hands quickly shot out to grab your hips, effectively holding you still.

You held onto the satin bed sheet when his mouth moved over the supple flesh of your thigh again, kissing and sucking at the soft skin there, surely leaving one or two hickeys. After for what felt like hours, you finally felt his hot breath ghosting over your clit, the tingling feeling in your lower belly growing stronger. You wanted to thrust up to him, desperate for any sort of friction, but found that he still had your hips in an iron grip, his fingers digging almost painfully into your skin. Each time you attempted to free yourself he tightened his hold, making it impossible to move. A whimper escaped you when he softly kissed your folds, his nose bumping into your mound.

“Quit the teasing!” you cried out, and he smirked up at you like he was having the time of his life.

“Julie baby, why are you so impatient? I told ya I’ll take care of ya,” he reminded you and licked a long stripe along your clit after deeply inhaling your scent. It made you throw your arm over your face again and you bit your hand to muffle the moans escaping you when he began to gently suckle at your sensitive nub.

One of his hands moved up to your breast and began to fondle it again, lightly pinching your nipple. You felt like your whole body was on fire, sweat forming on your forehead and you desperately wished someone would drop a bucket of ice water over you. Elvis’ moans and grunts, combined with the wet slurping noises made your ears ring and your legs began shaking from pleasure. You placed a hand over his, still gently massaging your breast and squeezed, encouraging him to increase the pressure, making him hiss.

“Damn, sweetheart... You’re so fucking wet, baby,” he grunted, voice muffled as he was still buried between your legs.

You slowly felt your orgasm approaching and grabbed onto his hair, desperate for something to ground you. You pushed his face harder against your pussy, his skilled tongue greedily trying to catch every last drop of your arousal and you nearly passed out when you suddenly felt him insert two fingers into your hole. You moaned and arched against him, your fingers and toes flexing uncontrollably when he curled his fingers inside you, his lips sucking on your clit even harder than before.

“E, fuck, I’m gonna cum,” you just managed to get out before shockwaves of pleasure rolled over you, a feeling of weightlessness in your bones. It only spurred him on as he continued throughout your orgasm, desperate to get each and every little sound out of you.

When you started wriggling against him from overstimulation he pulled away from you with a stupid grin plastered on his face and withdrew his fingers, making you shudder once again. He gleefully put them in his mouth, sucking off remains of you.

“Ya taste so sweet, I can’t get enough of that.” You attempted to lean up on your elbows to kiss him, but found that your muscles were still rather limp. “Was that alright, Julie baby? Did I make ya feel good?”

“E, are you joking? You’re the best.” You smiled, your fingers ghosting over his lips. “What about you, though?” His warm mouth engulfed your finger, briefly sucking on it.

“Mmh, if I only knew before that it was that easy to tame ya.”

“Don’t get cheeky now, Presley,” you huffed.

“Ah, there she is again. I might just-“ He lazily grinned and slipped his hand between your legs to cup your overstimulated pussy again, making you jump.

“God!” you gasped when he drew back his hand and smiled innocently, while you playfully glared at him. You reached up and played with his collar. “...But really... let me take care of you now.”

“Nah, it’s alright, sweetheart... Little Elvis is more than happy to see ya, believe me. But he’s just a bit tired today, it was a long day. Ya understand that, right?” You hesitantly nodded.

“...Okay, E. Next time,” you mumbled and gently ran your hand through his hair. He laid down his head on your thigh and absentmindedly began drawing patterns on your lower belly again, lips puckered as if deep in thought.

After a while, his eyes grew more and more heavy and you watched him battle his sleepiness. It gave you time to begin reflecting on what had happened and you quickly found that it gave you a massive headache. Was this a one-time occasion? Was it a slip-up? Would it become a regular thing? You had just muttered something about a next time without thinking. Lord have mercy!

As long as you weren’t sure about the nature of this new layer in your relationship with him you weren’t to eager to let anyone else know. That’s something you were sure about. The only thing.

You shifted slightly, your current position not at all comfortable, which caused Elvis to rouse again. He gave you a sleepy smile and clumsily crawled on top of you again, eyes half lidded and dazed.

“God, what are we going to do now?” you thought out loud.

“Mmmh, I wanna cuddle with ya,” he muttered and smushed his lips against yours with a loud smack.

“...We can’t tell no one.” you whispered, regaining your senses and staring up at the ceiling. He hummed.

“...Whatever you say, Mommy,” he cooed and buried his face in your neck as his soft stomach pressed up against your side once more, his weight on top of you immediately comforting.

“I mean it, E,” you insisted, hoping he’d manage to be serious for just a moment. He wasn’t really known for being good at keeping secrets.

“Mhm. Me too. Lordy, you’re so soft and warm, sweetheart,” he slurred and closed his eyes after a quick peck to your neck.

You sighed with a smile and pressed a kiss against his forehead while wrapping your arms around him and holding him tight. There was no use in overthinking the situation right now. He smiled into your neck, still distinctly thinking about the sounds you made while he pleasured you. It felt like a lullaby.

You made a mental note to have this particular talk with him in the morning. Or, technically, afternoon and hoped he would understand.

“Good night, darling,” you murmured and dosed off with your hand resting on his chest, feeling, monitoring, his steady breathing like every night. Except everything was different now.

#elvis presley #elvis #big daddy elvis #elvis x reader #elvis presley x reader #elvis fanfic #ellie writes

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qaxqxd · 1 year ago

Text

Kinktober 6

♡: Spider-noir x Spider!f!reader

Genre: smut

Warning: Bondage kink, what usually is in smut, oral, has some plot, 90's slang, unprotected sex (wrap it before tapping it irl 🙏) some praising

Word count: 1.3k

A/n: it's been so long since I wrote abt this man 😫 (late post)

Summary: Noir has been stressed, you lend a hand (or a mouth) to help him relieve the stress.

The spider-verse or the Arachno- Whatever it was called. You liked the name spider-verse better.

Anyways

You've been spider-women for about a year now. You were invited to the Spider Society, by Miguel O'Hara.

6 feet tall grumpy rainstorm. He was the guy who ran the thing, surprisingly.

Forget him, you were sent on missions with other spider-people.

I mean talk about how many spider-man and women there were.

There was one spider-man you got along with the most. You two clicked on the first meet.

And maybe you develop a tiny crush on him, on the way.

But who wouldn't?!

He was outgoing, cute, funny, and such a gentleman. Basically irresistible.

Spider-noir. A spider-man from the 30's. With his fancy hat and coat. Not to mention the silly goggles he uses.

You two just finished a mission, swiftly capturing the anomaly.

Noir wanted you to swing by the bar with him. (Literally) He loved spending his time with you.

So imagine how happy he was when you agreed to join him. He opened the door for you and you walked into the bar.

He ordered himself an egg cream. While you order yourself carbonated beverages. You both sat in the corner to draw less attention to yourselves.

As your drinks were handed you took a sip of yours. You looked at Noir, he's pulled up half of his mask.

You could see his lips. His kissable lips.** You smiled slightly.

"So, how's your week?" You asked him, trying to conjure small talk.

"It's gotten better." He smiled.

"Rough week, hm?" You questioned. "Yeah, you could say that." He hummed. He placed down his drink.

"Wanna talk about it?" You tilted your head.

"I don't want to bore you to death, doll." He muttered.

"It's fine, I won't mind." You softly smiled at him.

"Well, it's been sort of stressful. With the missions and everything. " He sighed.

"Miguel hasn't given you a day off?" You frowned. His head shook. You tried to process what he just told you.

"Well, I could help you…" You hid your face with your drink.

"With the sick day?" He responded. "No with the stress, of course." You grin. He flinch upon hearing you say that, choking on his drink.

"H-How so?" He stuttered, obviously turning red by the second. He was thinking of something, something messy.

You chuckled slightly at his flustered state. He knew what you were thinking about.

"Only if you're up to it." You smiled. He pulled his mask down and got up. He was too flustered to even think.

He went over to pay the bartender, and went back over to you. He picked you up bride style.

You two headed out.

He swung back to his apartment. Placing you down on the balcony.

"You‐ okay?" He asked, checking to see if he didn't harm you in any way. "I'm good, you know I could have swung with you."

"Right! Goodness, It must have scrambled from my mind." He blushed under his mask, embarrassed.

He was so focused on being close to you, he completely forgot you were also a spider-man. He felt like he was everywhere, when he was close to you.

"Sit," You stated.

You pointed over to his couch. He complied and sat down. You sat below him, on your knees.

You slid off his pants. His length flung out, as it was already hard. He covers his face with a hand.

Nervous, his grit throbbed. You pulled off your mask, showed your face.

Noir had seen your face before, he was just always in awe seeing your beautiful face.

Goodness gracious, you were so perfect. He couldn't help thinking.

You held his cock in your hands. You kissed his tip, the pre-cum all over your lips.

You devour his cock into your mouth, balls deep. It touched deep in your throat. You gag on his cock.

Noir felt the vibration of your gaging, small whimpers left him.

You went down on him, which got Noir to make a lot more sounds. His hips buckled, his hand gripping the couch.

You looked at him, big pleady eyes, enjoying his noises. He can't bear to lay a finger on you. You were too pretty for his own pleasure.

You bobbed your head up and down at a pace he was satisfied at. His groans and whimpering were leaking.

Your cunt felt like it was throbbing, on how much he was making you aroused.

You knew he was close by his breathing, one final deep throating, and you felt all his warmth slick in your throat.

You swallow all of it. Every last drop of it. Noir got red noticing upon this.

You got up and sat beside him. He pushed you onto your back.

He was now on top of you. He now had his mask off. He raises both of your arms up, webbing them together.

He kissed your neck. "I want you to feel good now, Doll." He mumbled in your ear. You couldn't help but blushed at his words.

"May I?" He tugged at your suit. You nodded and allowed him to undress you. He gently took off your suit.

Noir was nervous, wanting to please and pleasure you. He wanted to do a good job of it.

He loved you so much.

He saw your underwear, and it made his cock get tighter. He saw the wetness seeping through your panties.

He pulled it off you, revealing your puffed cunt. He lined his cock with your entrance. The head of his tip enters you.

You let out a moan, as he started to stretch you. You tighten around him. He grunted, at your squeezing.

"Goodness gracious, you are so tight…" He praised you.

He laid out small kisses on you. You felt yourself go breathless from his kissing. You were also nervous too.

He got his full length to fit inside you, so perfectly, like you were made for him. He huffed and started moving in and out.

His pace was sloppy, but good enough for you to build up your orgasm.

You moan every time he deepens his thrust. He was quite good for being inexperienced, you thought.

Was he though?

No clue.

He continues his pace, making you feel amazing. You whine, longing to grab something,

Your arms were webbed, making it a lot harder to resist orgasming.

You moaned, when you reached your climax. A cum ring around Noir's cock. You didn't want to stop here and neither did Noir.

So he continues to fuck you a lot quicker, but still at a gentle touch.

"Ah mn- ha, shit-" You moaned at every thrust. Your thighs were shaking at the tense feeling.

"N-noir, ah" More wet noises filled the room. You felt so helpless without your hands and arms.

I mean you could've probably broken out of those webs by now, but…

What's the fun in that?

"Al' most there, sweetheart." He kissed your stomach.

Noir's been holding your legs up for a steady thrust. You could feel him getting close because the pace quickened.

You rubbed your clit trying to increase the pleasure. As you came, Noir pulled out his seed spilling all over your stomach.

He hid his face in embarrassment. He broke you out of your bondage.

You got up quickly to kiss his lips, just what you wanted to do earlier.

Your hands wrapped around his neck, lifting the mask off his face. He took glasses out of his pocket to wear.

You giggled, "Still pretty cute with glasses, hm?"

"You too, you're pretty delightful too." He confessed.

You both bathe in each other's warmth the rest of the night.

#spidernoir x reader #spiderman noir x reader #spider noir x reader #spiderman noir #spider noir x you #spider man noir x reader #spidernoir x y/n #spidernoir x you

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biteofcherry · 4 months ago

Note

Surprise me. Or don't surprise me.

I'm at your mercy.

(but I hope I get to use a certain gif)

✨✨✨

With a bounce to your step, you went to open the door for the most awaited visit of the day. Of the whole week, really.

Your takeout order!

It was a regular thing for you, to treat yourself once a week to something delicious from the Italian restaurant on the other side of the town. You made it a dedicated tradition, to the point that the two delivery guys knew you by name.

As you did them.

Guessing which one of them would be bringing your food was a fun game on its own, too.

Would it be Jake, who always sang something as he hopped down the corridor (and maybe sometimes you joined him for a single verse as you opened the door)?

Or maybe Ari, who each time came up with a new ridiculous means of transportation he claimed he took to deliver your order as fast as possible. The last time it was Wonder Woman's invisible plane.

With a smile, you opened the door and beamed up upon seeing Ari's massive form.

"A portion of creamy Tuscan orzo," he announced, giving you the brown paper bag. "And what appears to be three portions of garlic bread."

"Indeed, it is." You confirmed, no shame at all.

"One day our chef's going to simply make you a whole loaf of it." Ari grinned.

"I'll marry him then," you faked a dreamy sigh and you both chuckled.

"I remember when my wife had pregnancy cravings and I begged the poor guy to make pesto baked gnocchi over and over again." Ari shook his head, a fond smile stretching over his lips as he shared the sweet memory.

As heartwarming it was, your heart sank a little, too. Somehow you never learned that Ari is married. And had a kid.

You tipped Ari and thanked him again, then once again as you snorted at his dramatic admission that he hijacked a plane to deliver your food pronto.

Planning on comfort your small shattered crush with a lot of garlic bread, you paused in surprise when you saw a phone number and a note scribbled on one of the boxes.

I appreciate someone who loves garlic bread so unabashedly. I'd love to make you more in person. And show you my special creamy spread... - signed, Lloyd

#eralen #the babe lottery #thanks for playing #and hey! at least you got garlic bread 🤣

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stargazer-dreamer · 1 year ago

Text

It's on the Tip of My Tongue Chapter 2

character: yami sukehiro

content warnings: denial of feelings, jealousy

reader: gender neutral; ring magic user

chapter list: 1, 2 [you are here]

notes: also on ao3. 2k word count. pre-relationship. part of the stoprewind verse

Mealtimes at the Black Bulls were chaotic. In the week leading up to your official first day, you had no idea—you hadn’t dined a single meal with them. Either out for lunch with Finral during a break, or so focused on getting your room cleaned that you didn’t notice the plate left for you at the door until it grew cold, you hadn’t sat down at the table with everyone until the ebony robe sat upon your shoulders and the paperwork was properly filed away. And even then, it took the witch coming out to find you and bring you back already in the thick of it to get you to understand exactly how hectic things could get.

It was well-past noon, and you and Yami had wandered aimlessly throughout the forest talking. It turns out, he was serious about getting to know you—but his version of this seemed to only consist of asking unrelated questions one after another until you were sure he didn’t actually care about the answers he was getting at all. It became quite repetitive, a question and a reply, the captain barely sparing a moment to reflect on your answer given until he’s moved on to the next.

He probably does this to all the new guys, you thought, stepping over a fallen tree branch in the path, to help them feel included. You were going to be living under the same roof—you figured the plan was that Yami would spend some quality time with you before returning back to his normal routine. Break the ice, learn some facts about you, converse a little. The two of you were, after all, supposed to be working closely together from then on out. It made sense that he would be working from a mental script—he was the captain. This was apart of the job.

Nothing else to it. Nothing at all. But I didn’t know Yami was such a poor conversationalist…

It was starting to get ridiculous. You watched as he bent to pick the branch off of the ground. Pausing for a moment, he slowly rose to full height with it in hand, an unidentifiable look sitting on his face. Eyes on the branch, you watched as his eyebrows furrowed. And then, in a large swooping motion, he whipped the branch to the side. You blinked. He did it again, and again, and again, and with one step forward one more time, before straightening back up again.

After a pause, he looked at you, tossing the branch to the side. He said—“What do you like to eat?”

For a moment, all you could do was stare. What kind of a demonstration was that? And that’s what he decided to ask you? Mouth opening trying to formulate a response, you were needlessly cut off by a rising, grumbling noise. It came from Yami’s direction. The longer it continued, you realized that it was coming from the captain himself. Namely: his stomach.

“Oh!” you bit back a laugh, understanding the question now. “Oh, you’re—okay, yeah! We can find a place in town. Here—” a ring left one of your fingers and hovered in midair between the two of you. “There’s a place I really like that serves—”

“There you two are!”

Voice drowned out by the sudden interruption, the two of you looked skybound. Up higher than the trees, a figure on a broomstick waved, her dark robe stark against the sky. Flying in a sweeping circle, she found a break in the treeline and descend; the wide brim of her hat fluttering in the wind as she did. Landing, she walked over with the stick over her shoulder. Her eyes shone like jewels, tinted lips curving the closer she got. She was recognizable even from a glance—Vanessa Enoteca.

“I was sent to look for you guys!” she said, with a hand on her hip. She was as beautiful as they say. Perhaps moreso, in person. “Figured you guys would be in town by now, but now that I think about it—this makes way more sense!” She smiled at you like she knew something, but you were certain you had absolutely no clue on what exactly that something was. Before you had time to respond however, her gaze traveled. “A quiet little outing—I didn’t expect that from you, Yami!”

The captain shifted his weight, reaching for a new cigarette and swatting at your still-floating ring, causing it to return to your finger.

The action didn’t go unnoticed, but, “Lunch is ready,” she was carrying on. “Let’s get back and eat!” And with that, she turned on her heels and started down the path with a bounce in her step.

Hesitating, you adjusted the now resting ring on your finger. The final piece of the puzzle put itself into place in your mind as Yami’s hand came down gently on your shoulder as he passed you, leaning down so his next words were heard by you only—“Next time,” he said, scratching the hairline at the back of his neck. The action drew him closer, and his next words came quieter, a rumble that shot exactly to where it shouldn’t—“There’s a place I like. I’ll take you.”

---

Despite the order of finding work, it seemed like the entire squadron was there; filling their plates high and chatting all the while, loud and boisterous—this was the Black Bulls you knew. Sitting in a circle around a rather large table, chairs and sofas had been moved to gather around; the common room transformed into a space to share a meal together. The noise was incredible, each person’s voice raised to speak over the other, seemingly in a constant loop that grew louder and louder by the second.

“Captain!” called the man with the mohawk. Magna Swing, with his gloves still on and sunglasses pushed up towards his hairline. “I saved seats for you!” He patted heartily at the loveseat beside him, nestled between him and Finral. “Come eat!”

Vanessa found a seat on the opposite end of the table—and it appeared that the only remaining place for you was right next to Yami. A bit sheepishly, you followed him into the fray and sat down. It was a bit of a tight fit—the loveseat was of average size but Yami’s bulk was anything but average. An unfortunate shift in your seat could have your thighs pressed up against each other—and following that specific line of thought, you snuck a peek sideways out of the corner of your eye.

He was silent, face once again unreadable as he filled his plate with the buffet before him. The reach of his arm going across the table towards the various foods stretched his muscles nicely, and when he pulled back, the shape of his biceps had you—

At least Finral was on the other side of you. “Welcome back,” he smiled. “You two were gone for a while.” There was a certain lit to his voice, one that brought to mind the memory of earlier in the day, when just about everyone had laid witness to the misunderstanding in front of the base.

Your face burned. “N-no! We were just talking!” You looked towards Yami but any additional input you hoped he would have provided was nonexistent—his plate now towered high with several portions worth of food. He slapped thieving hands away, the movement drawing your eyes to the ring encircling his finger. Stealing the light, it sat vivid against his skin and the scars that embedded him. A new connection; a bond formed between the two of you, the ring a symbol of your—

“We were just talking,” was your explanation. For everything. “Just walking around the woods!”

Finral gave you another smile, polite this time, and raised his glass to his lips. “Okay, okay. I won’t embarrass you.”

“Nothing to be embarrassed about,” came Yami’s voice before the overloaded plate was dropped in front of you. “Figured we’d talk in peace. Finally. What with you hogging up my new ride’s time and all.” His face was still indescribable, but the angle of his brows were curious as he locked eyes with Finral. “Couldn’t even offer a simple hello before you started portaling across the entire kingdom.”

There was a certain hardness coming from the captain. A pressure that weighed you down, leaving you sinking into the cushions as suddenly an awkwardness settled within the room; a haze that slowly drowned out every voice. Not so subtlety, conversations stilled and all eyes came to your side of the table.

Avoiding every gaze, you focused your attention on the food. There was just about everything on that plate, the entire buffet’s worth of selection spilling over each other and tumbling down the tower every so often—and a glance at Yami found him without a plate of his own. Admittedly, with so many different flavors and textures mixed together, it didn’t look very appetizing at all—but a fork was passed over to you, so you started to dig in, if only to appear that you weren’t paying attention.

Picking at the bread, you listened as Finral sputtered. “I was just doing what you asked of me!” his eyes flickered in your direction. “Come on, I’m not trying to—we still have a lot of places to mark—”

“Now you suddenly want to work.” Coming from Yami, it didn’t sound like a question.

You knew of Finral’s reputation—he was known to slack off, often found leisuring around the castletowns instead of working. You frowned, remembering that day in the alleyway. The two of you were paired up immediately, imprinting upon countless and countless of locations, so really, who’s fault was it that you were often together? Besides, Finral was working—what was wrong with that? From what you’ve heard, he was usually off flirting…

Cutting through your thoughts like a hot knife, your attention was pulled across the table towards the starry-eyed boy from before as he called out to you. The conversation happening at your side drowned out as you tried to remember the kid’s name.

“Asta!” he supplied. “From Hage Village!” You didn’t know where that was. “I didn’t get the chance to ask you before—what kind of magic do you use?”

His obliviousness to the confrontation happening literally right in front of him was a breather, causing a soft reset in the vibe at the table overall. Slowly, conversations started to pick back up and the noise level steadily grew—not to what it once was, but high enough to no longer be as obvious about the eavesdropping as before.

“It’s ring magic,” you explained, trying to concentrate. With multiple conversations happening all around you—including the one currently flying over your head—you were finding it exceedingly difficult to hear yourself. “I can do a lot of things with it, but it follows the basic functions of rings as a whole.”

Asta shoveled food into his mouth as he looked at you in awe. Without swallowing, he asked, “What’s that?”

“Communication. At least, that’s how I think of it.” You thought of playing with your mother’s jewelry box as a child, and fiddling with her rings. They were cheap things, bought on whims, but you didn’t care. They were beautiful; hers, a piece of her left with you while she worked long hours, away from home. You felt your heart start to swell at the thought of it. Inspired, you carried on. “A ring usually signifies a bond or status, so I can use them as communication or tracking devices. Opening portals is what I do the most though—it’s just so much easier to take one step as opposed to walking all the way across town.”

Suddenly solemn, your eyes lowered as you remembered: “It’s not a really desirable attribute though, since it’s so easily replaceable with actual magical items. And it’s no good in a fight.”

“What are you talking about? It sounds like you could do all sorts of cool stuff,” Asta chewed. “Besides, it doesn’t matter what other people think—aren’t you here because of your magic?”

You didn’t know what to say.

“If you want to learn how to fight, I can teach you!” A messy-haired boy spoke up from the other end of the table. You recognized him as Luck Volta; and if his reputation is anything to go by, you knew taking him up on that offer was a bad idea.

His static raising your hair already, you frantically shook your head—“No, thank you, really, I’m not good at that—”

“If you need help with your magic, you should ask Gauche!” A small girl was stuffing her face. As she paused to down her drink, you were able to catch a glimpse of her features—Charmy Pappitson. She pointed in the direction of the man in question. “He’s usually using an item, too—he could probably give you some good advice!”

Gauche Adlai was looking at a photograph in his hand, hardly touching his food at all. Monotone, he replied, “I only help my sister.”

“Focusing on one aspect of your magic isn’t necessarily a bad thing,” Vanessa sipped directly from a bottle. “You’re working on portals, right? I heard you can make a whole lot more than you used to—and it’s only been a week! You should give it a proper spin.” Before you could ask what that meant exactly, the shine in her eyes appeared again as she stood up from her seat. Circling the table quickly, she came to a stop behind you. With each arm, she pulled both Finral and Yami closer, encaging you in a huddle of sorts.

“Okay you two, I think we can all agree that Finral can take a little break,” she smiled. “Yami! Why don’t you two lovebirds go on that mission you were talking about earlier?” She shot you a wink, “The two of you are perfect for the job!”

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super-predictable98 · 8 months ago

Text

Smile, Simone (OC X Canon Kiss Week 2024)

Word count: 3,6k

Warning: manipulation, mention of death, Kilgrave being a creep

A/n: This is a collab with my partner in crime @jozstankovich for @theocxcanonweek day 5: Getting into trouble. The characters from this story are part of our little Timeline Anomaly Verse (more about them in here) and a crossover of Bad Samaritan and Jessica Jones. Hope you all enjoy it <3

[Masterlist]

Simone had a short walk from her university to the flat, only a few minutes, she stopped to buy herself a hot chocolate and a croissant for her father from his favorite bakery.

Little did she realize, across the street a tall, slender man in a chic purple suit watched her with interest, his dark eyes following her movements as a small grin played at his lips. As she stepped out of the bakery he approached.

“Hello there,” he drawled, tipping his head slightly in greeting. “I couldn’t help but notice how beautiful you are,” he murmured, taking her hand to place a kiss to the back of it.

"Um... thanks," Simone chuckled until she saw him. That face, she knew that face from her nightmares. A man with that face once tormented her father and she knew he died, but in that world full of clones and odd powers, she never knew who was what. "I- bye."

“Wait—“ the man exclaimed, a frown creasing the spot between his brows. “Don’t go,” he demanded, assured that she would obey.

She couldn't move, she tried to keep walking, but her feet wouldn't obey. "Let me go, please, I have a boyfriend."

The man chuckled. “Not anymore, you don’t,” he drawled, holding out his arm for her to take. “Let me take you out—?” he asked, waiting for her to supply her name.

"Simone, Simone Falco," she said before she could stop herself. His allure did something to her brain and suddenly she took his arm, certain that her boyfriend Dylan, wasn't in her life anymore.

“Mmm Simone,” he repeated, savouring the taste of her name on his tongue. “Your name is just as beautiful as you,” he purred, brushing his lips against her temple, inhaling her scent.

“You can call me Kilgrave,” he said, slipping an arm around the small of her back as he began to lead her away from her intended destination. “I think we need to get you some new clothes and then some lunch. I know a wonderful place. You’ll love it,” he said with certainty.

"Y-yeah, I just... need to let my father know I won't come home now, he's expecting me. Can I call him?" She asked quietly, following him to God knows where to do something she didn't even wanna think about.

Kilgrave frowned as he deliberated. “I suppose that’s alright, darling,” he finally answered, pulling her phone out of her pocket. “But you’ll only say what I tell you to say,” he instructed.

"Yes," she dialed, trusting that her dad would know something was wrong and check her location, which was always on. "What should I say?"

“Tell him, you’re staying with a friend for a few days, that you’ll be at a mind/body retreat and you won’t have access to your phone,” Kilgrave said, walking at a leisurely pace, leading her to his waiting town car.

Simone nodded and dialed her dad's number, but the person who picked up was her mother.

"Hey, Moony. Daddy's in the shower, do you need anything?" Blossom asked.

"Yes, can I talk to him please?" She kept her voice calm, or tried.

"Okay... Sean! Simone is on the phone, she sounds dead weird!"

Sean frowned, quickly twisting the water off and grabbing his towel, wrapping it around his waist and taking the phone, bringing it to his ear. “Moony, it’s me. You okay, darlin’?” He asked, his hair dripping down his shoulders.

"Yeah, Daddy, I'm okay. I just called to let you know I won't be home in time," she put on a smile, trying very hard not to cry. "I'll be with a friend in a spiritual retreat and I won't be able to use my phone there for a few days. Just didn't want you to worry."

“What d’yeh mean? What friend?” Sean demanded, his unease growing. “Why don’t you come home and we can talk about this, you can give us more details,” he pleaded, not liking the way her voice trembled. “Where are you?” He asked, his chest growing tight.

"My friend... Ellery," Simone said the name of her cousin, this way he could easily call her and disprove this story. "Sorry, Daddy, I'm late, I really have to get going. I'm on my way there."

"Wait--! Simone!" Sean cried, but she'd already hung up. "Blossom! Something's wrong!" he called, trying to call Ellery, though his hands were shaking too much for him to dial the number.

"Oh my God... what number are you trying to call? Ellery?" Blossom took the phone to dial for him. "What happened to Simone?"

"Yeah," Sean said, handing her the phone, running his hand through his wet curls. "You were right, she didn't sound right," he said. "She said she was going on a spiritual retreat with Ellery and wouldn't be able to answer her phone. She sounded scared. I think she was taken," he said, his voice shaking as much as his hands.

"This is bollocks, she can't spend a day without her phone," Blossom called her niece. "Ellery! Ellery, are you with Simone right now?"

"No," the girl answered, giving her twin brother a confused look. "Charlie and I are buying Valentine's presents."

"Did she ever mention a spiritual retreat to you? Somewhere she couldn't take her phone to?"

"No... is everything alright? Just stay there, we're on our way."

*****

"Good girl," Kilgrave said, stroking Simone's hair before taking her phone from her hand and dropping it to the ground in the middle of the street before pulling her into the car with him and shutting the door, telling the driver where to take them.

"I- That's my phone!" She cried, she hated to be that helpless and now nobody would be able to track her. "All my father's voice-mails are there, I need them!"

"You don't need them," Kilgrave said offhandedly, annoyed at her outburst. "I'll make sure you have everything you need, love," he assured her, pulling her to his side, his hand running up and down her arm.

"What are you gonna do to me? You say buying clothes and having lunch. What are you really planning?" Simone asked, surprised that the driver seemed hypnotized as well.

"Darling, you're with me now," he said, chuckling lightly. "I just want to lavish you, make you mine," he explained, taking her chin in his hand to turn her face toward his to kiss her.

Simone tried to pull away, but she didn't know where to run, she was stuck in the car. "Have you ever considered... I don't know, asking someone out without forcing them? You're not bad looking, I'm sure many women would be happy to go out with you."

Kilgrave clicked his tongue with a shake of his head, as if the girl had just said something foolish. “But I don’t want just any woman. I want you. Are you saying that you would’ve said yes, if I’d have simply asked you?” He asked.

"Maybe... well not really. I had a boyfriend, and you look like the man who tried to kill my dad. But I'm sure a much more beautiful girl would've said yes," she mumbled.

“What do you mean, a more beautiful girl?” He drawled, frowning at her comment. “You are beautiful, Simone. More gorgeous than you realize. I want you to tell me that you’re beautiful,” he purred.

"I am beautiful," she repeated, unable to resist his order. It wasn't hard to understand he had the power of persuasion.

"Good girl," Kilgrave murmured, stroking her cheek. "Ah, we're here," he said, as the car pulled up to the curb in front of Bloomingdale's.

*****

Sean hastily dried off, pulling his clothes on distractedly. "Should we call the police?" he asked, hating how helpless he felt.

"We need to know where she is first and sending cops might spook whoever has her and they might hurt her," Blossom started dialing to call her sister-in-law, Alisha. "We're a superpowered family, we've all killed to protect each other."

He nodded, feeling numb. He was the only one without a power, there wasn’t anything he could do at the moment except trust his wife. —

"Alisha, we need a little help, can you find Simone for us?" Blossom asked while she opened the door for her niece and nephew.

"I... she's in a car, there's a man with her. Purple suit, looks posh," Alisha said, using her clairvoyance to see through her niece's eyes. "I don't know exactly where they are though."

“Okay, keep checking in and let us know if you recognize anything,” Sean said, leaning in over his wife’s shoulder.

"Okay, I'll call you if I see anything," Alisha confirmed.

"We have all possible powers to save her," Ellery pulled her brother inside. "Where are we going?"

"We don't know where she is yet," Sean answered, fighting the urge to pace. "Alisha said she's in a car right now."

"In a car with a man she doesn't know," Blossom started crying just as her husband's phone started ringing. Sean pulled her into his arms, his jaw flexing as he fought not to break down as well, knowing he needed to be strong for her. "Does she know where Simone is?" he asked, his voice tense.

"Hi, Aunt Lisha, any news?" Ellery quickly grabbed her uncle's phone.

"They just stopped at Bloomingdale's, I don't know which one exactly, but it looks like 5th Avenue, it's right in front of the Bank of America."

"Bloomingdale's 5th Avenue, c'mon, let's go!" Charlie exclaimed, already heading for the door.

"We need a cab," Ellery stepped outside and rushed down the stairs. The rest of them followed and they all ran to the intersection with the 8th Avenue to hail a cab. The drive would be ten minutes if they were lucky to avoid traffic, which in New York was basically impossible.

“Hopefully they’ll still be there,” Charlie murmured, his leg bouncing anxiously.

*****

"Why do I need new clothes?" Simone asked calmly, almost in a docile way. "These are pretty expensive..."

"Why not?" Kilgrave said, waiting for the driver to open his door. "Come," he instructed, holding out his hand for her as he waited on the curb.

"Do I need an excuse to spoil my girl?" he chuckled. "You deserve only the best," he explained.

"T-thank you," Simone took his hand and locked arms with him as they entered the store. She wasn't dressed exactly nicely and felt really out of place. She wore leggings and one of her dad's shirts since, at uni, they were doing nature shots.

“Ah, what about this? This colour would look beautiful on you,” Kilgrave said, picking out a sleek purple dress. “Go on, try it on, and I’ll pick out some shoes for you,” he said, stroking her cheek fondly.

"Okay," she took it and went into one of the dressing rooms. She wanted to cry, but feared that it would upset her new captor and he might do something worse. She put on the dress and opened the door to show him how it looked.

"Ohh, don't you look like a vision!" Kilgrave exclaimed, moving closer to get a better look. "Here, try these on, you'll look perfect," he said, handing her some strappy heels.

Simone nodded and quickly put the shoes on, which made her stand as tall as him. "I don't usually wear heels," she admitted.

"You should, they make your legs look so graceful," he said, picking out a luxurious long fur coat and draping it over her shoulders. "There, all set," he decided, taking her hand and leading her back out of the store.

"Hey! You can't leave without paying for those!" One of the shopkeepers exclaimed, hurrying after them.

"You're going to give them to us, free of charge," Kilgrave snapped, waving the woman away, leaving her bewildered. "Are you hungry?" he asked Simone, turning his attention back to her as they stepped back out onto the crowded sidewalk, his car waiting for them.

I'm wearing the skin of a dead animal on my back and I technically just stole all of this... Simone thought, panicked.

"Yeah, I haven't eaten today," she said, despite how nauseous she was from the whole semi-kidnapping experience. She anxiously looked around to see if she could find any familiar faces, but the entire world felt like a strange place at that moment.

"There she is!" Sean cried, spotting his daughter's face amidst the sea of people. Jumping out of the cab before it came to a complete stop, he ran toward her, trying to push his way through the crowd. "Simone!" he exclaimed, trying to get her attention.

"Daddy?" She cried, the knot in her chest tightening when she saw how worried he seemed. She wanted to run into his arms and never let go.

"Simone! Come here! What are you wearing?" Blossom followed her husband out. "You! Let go of my daughter right now! Get away from her!"

“Ah, looks like that’s our cue to leave,” Kilgrave muttered, turning Simone’s face away from her parents and stealing a sloppy kiss before sweeping her back into the back of his sleek black car. “Driver, take us to Neary’s,” he instructed, slamming the door shut and wiggling his fingers in a little wave just as Sean and Blossom reached the car.

Simone fought the urge to cry again, her head hanging low. She was so close to being able to run away... she knew she wasn't the first girl to fall into Kilgrave's trap, she wondered where the others were. Were they stuck in a harem or even worse?

"Did you see him? Cale Erendreich doppelganger... he kissed her! She didn't pull away, she didn't fight it," Blossom panted, she was not as fast as she used to be when she was younger.

“There has to be an explanation,” Sean exclaimed, his chest hurting. He’d seen the fear on his daughter’s face as the car pulled away.

“Uncle Sean! We know where he’s going!” Charlie exclaimed, running to catch up. “Aunt Lisha called. She knows where he’s taking her!”

"They're going to Neary's, five minutes away," Ellery hailed another cab for them. If it was just her and her brother they could run, but their uncle was pushing 60.

"Let's go, let's go!" Blossom rushed into the car.

*****

“What’s the matter, dearest?” Kilgrave asked, tilting his head to peer at Simone’s face. “Don’t tell me you’re upset?”

"I just... got startled," she said shaking her head, she looked up at him and tried to smile.

He smiled back, giving her hand a squeeze before pressing a kiss to the back of it. The drive to the restaurant wasn't long and once they parked, Kilgrave helped Simone out, leading her into the building.

"Do you have a reservation?" The hostess asked, looking between the two of them.

"Yes, we're renting out the whole place. Tell everyone else to leave," Kilgrave commanded and the hostess nodded.

"You can all leave!" He exclaimed, raising his voice to infect the other diners and they all got up, leaving their food half touched as they left. "There, shall we?" he asked, leading Simone over to his usual corner booth.

She sat down and glanced at the menu, the food smelled and sounded delicious, but how could she eat in that situation? She could always... accept it, she'd live her life like this and maybe it wouldn't be so bad? It wasn't what she wanted, but if he treated her the way she had been so far... maybe he wouldn't kill her. Maybe she could visit her family and smile while saying everything was fine.

"Can I order what I want or will you order for me?" She asked, genuinely curious. "Cause if I can choose I'd like the broiled chicken with potatoes."

"Of course, you can have whatever you like," Kilgrave exclaimed, leaning back in the booth, his arm resting behind Simone's shoulders.

By the time Sean, Blossom, Ellery, and Charlie arrived at the restaurant, the other diners were all filing out.

"That's strange, where are they all going?" Charlie wondered.

"Doesn't seem like anything is wrong in there," Ellery looked inside and found her cousin sitting in a corner.

"Simone!" Blossom called. "Simone, please! If you actually want to be here, tell us!"

"I want to be here," she said after Kilgrave whispered the command in her ear.

“If you try to escape, you’ll jump off the Queensboro Bridge,” Kilgrave hissed in Simone’s ear, taking a bite of his steak, seemingly unbothered.

“Look, he just said something to her before she spoke,” Charlie whispered, noticing the way the man leaned in. “If he has the power of persuasion, then maybe I can use it against him,” he suggested.

"Good one, Charlie," Ellery nudged her brother's arm.

"Let my daughter go, right now! I'm not above killing you, you bastard!" Blossom charged into the restaurant. "She's old enough to be your daughter!"

Kilgrave spread his hands innocently. "I'm afraid you're mistaken, she told you already, she wants to be here."

"Then why does she look so terrified?" Sean exclaimed, hating the way his hands shook as he looked at the man who looked so much like the ghost from his past.

"I can't leave, Mum," Simone cried. "I just can't."

"You can do anything, you have a superpower. You're really gonna let some middle-aged man tell you what you can or can't do?" Ellery whispered to her. "No matter what happens, you're safe."

"Come on, let's call Dylan," Blossom took her daughter's hand, but once she got up, the girl ran away towards the bridge to fulfill Kilgrave's request.

“Simone?!” Sean exclaimed, his eyes widening in fear as she raced past him out the restaurant door. “SIMONE!” he called, taking off after her without another thought.

While his uncle ran after Simone, Charlie rounded on Kilgrave. “What did you make her do?” He demanded.

Kilgrave shrugged. “She was the one who chose to run. If she’d rather jump off the bridge than stay with me, that’s her prerogative, I suppose.” He sighed, pinching the bridge of his aquiline nose. “And here I thought we could be happy together.”

"You're sick!" Ellery screamed while Blossom ran out to follow her daughter as well. "Man, you're not ugly enough to be that desperate, find someone who can love you for real."

“Is that an offer?” Kilgrave asked, flashing Ellery a grin. "Seems beauty runs in the family..."

Before the man could control his twin, Charlie frowned, drawing on his own power. He could feel the vibration of Kilgrave’s power pulling at him and he reached out with his mind, borrowing his ability.

“Hey,” he said, drawing the man’s attention. “Forget all about us. Forget about your power. Don’t use it for bad,” he commanded.

"Let's get out of here," Ellery took her brother's arm. "Hope he learns his lesson. He definitely knows how to treat a lady, he just needs to find one that wants to be with him."

Charlie nodded, letting his sister pull him out of the restaurant and they ran to join their uncle and aunt.

*****

"Simone!" Blossom ran, catching up to them just as she climbed to jump. She looked back at her mum and dad and smiled, her cousin's words made her very confident.

“Moony, what’re you doing? Please come down!” Sean cried, his heart twisting in his chest as he held onto his wife. “We can fix this! Please don’t jump!”

"Sean... it's alright," Blossom understood her plan, she had done it before with the power she passed down to her daughter.

"See you in a second, don't worry about me," Simone waved and let go, falling as if she were diving into a pool.

To stop herself from hitting the water, she covered her own body in a force field and emerged back to the bridge covered in a thin blue-ish bubble.

As soon as Simone emerged, protected in her bubble, Sean let out a relieved gasp, his arms tightening around his wife. “Oh thank God she’s okay,” he cried, his eyes burning with unshed tears.

Simone ran into her parents' arms and sighed. She didn't even realize she was still wearing the outfit that was picked out for her.

"We should probably return these stuff to Bloomingdale's, right?" She asked.

"But the dress is cute..." Ellery joked. "He won't be bothering you again."

"Yeah, I made sure of that," Charlie assured her, joining the others in embracing her.

"Thank you, Cha-Charlie," Sean murmured, ruffling his nephew's curls. "I'm so fuckin' glad you all have those damn powers," he sighed, kissing the top of Simone's head.

"Thank you for coming for me," she looked lovingly at her cousins and her mother, then turned and placed a kiss on her father's cheek. "You're a hero too, Daddy."

Sean shook his head. "I was so helpless," he murmured, squeezing her tighter.

"Not all heroes have powers, some just are really amazing dads," she held his hand as they walked back to the store. "You weren't hopeless, you didn't give up. I called you because I knew you'd know something was wrong and come help, and you did."

"Of course, I'd never give up on you, darlin'," Sean breathed.

#kilgrave #kilgrave x canon #sean falco #jessica jones #bad samaritan #oc: Simone Falco #oc: Blossom Falco #oc: Charlie Young #oc: Ellery Young #fanfic #jessica jones fanfic #david tennant fanfic #oc x canon week #ocxcanonweek #fic collab #timeline anomaly verse

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fullofgutsndopamine · 7 months ago

Text

part of the FITPS verse

more here

tw: cursing, some fluff, some angst if you squint,

note: reader is they/them, however, one mention of hasan referring to you as “my girl”

“hasan.” you huff out, “what part of ‘be quiet’ do you not understand?”

hasan looks the part of santa.

he wears a crooked santa hat on top of an old baseball cap with his hockey teams old logo across the middle, faded with age, a smirk on his face.

“princess,” he drawls out, “are you doubting my abilities?”

you roll your eyes, “I am when you’re so fucking loud. you’re gonna wake Amelie and the whole town up.”

now it’s his turn to roll his eyes, “she’s a heavy sleeper, she’s fine.”

there’s some weight to that, but he doesn’t elaborate and you don’t ask him to.

“We have to hurry.” you remind him.

your mind runs through the list; presents to put out, the reindeer mix hasan worked on to sprinkle in the backyard, “to keep the magic alive,” he say, but figured that sounds dumb so finished with, “or whatever”

“what’s the rush?” he asks, bht oneys, comes to your side with the small plastic bag filled with presents for Amelie.

they aren’t much, a mix of homemade (a new stuffed rabbit, since the one she’s had since she was born, a gift from hasan, is basically just a piece of cloth she’s carrying around now, pressed against him at grocery stores and at the shop with the little rabbit)

you remember the nights he stayed up, glasses on the crook of his nose, his grease stained fingers working expertly on old cloth, stuffing the little bear.

“moneys tight,” he’d shake his head as he said it, red faced, as if this is something he’s embarrassed about, something that’s kept him up, “but i don’t need her to know that.”

the packages are wrapped in old wrapping paper, scraps, old newspaper he tooo from the shop to wrap them up in-

you offered money, gift wrap, the works but he’s roll his eyes every time, “now,” he’d drawl out slowly, “what kind of boyfriend would i be if i took money from my girl?” and he’d pull you in close by your waist and kiss you, hard, on the lips.

hasan gets on his knees, gently, slowly, and one by one, sets the wrapped presents under the tree as you do the same, your own bag, a little smaller, with from santa on a gift for Amelie, a love with your name on the other; desperately trying to ignore the thump thump your heart makes when you think too hard on it-

“what’s the rush?” he asks, and you whip your head around to remind him that the rush is Amelie walking downstairs any second, and how desperately you want him to get some good sleep-

instead, his hands go for your wrist, and before you know it, your flipped around, on your back, your head under the tree as you stare up at the lights, twinkling, some faded or half out, but the blues and the greens stare back at you, making you have to squint-

“use to do this all the time when i was little,” hasan speaks, his voice barely above a whisper, the way it always does when he’s about to talk about the before, usually reserved for late at night, gasping awake from a nightmare or wide awake, fighting off sleep:

“Ma use to work a lot y’know, after everything with my Dad-“

he rolls his eyes, not indulging that part, though it’s not necessary, you know the odds and ends, the sad parts-

“So, to entertain myself, i’d lay under the tree. watch the lights, like watching a show, yknow?”

he reaches out and touches the tip of a red light, “these were my favorite, when they were behind the blues.”

and out of instinct you do the same, reaching for the lights under the tree, on your back-

you can’t help it, as you curl into his side, your head on his shoulder as his fingers run up and down your back, his eyes fixed on the lights.

finally, he breaks the silence first: “thought we had to rush.”

his voice is low, teasing but you snort as you hold the side of his face, “quiet, you.”

you laugh, giving him a kiss on the lips as you watch the lights with him

#caroline writes #hasanabi #hasanabi x reader #hasanabi x y/n #hasanabi x you #hasan #hasan piker fanfic #hasan piker fanfiction #hasan piker fic #hasan piker imagine #hasan piker x reader #hasan piker x you #hasan x reader #hasan piker

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lookingfts · 7 months ago

Note

Not going to lie. This sexy as fck picture makes me think of some hair pulling in a pretty heated moment. 🔥

Please can you give me a snippet from your very creative imagination? 🤭

Absolutely! I've set it in the "Say my name"-verse just for fun.

*sexy snippet below*

Kate had been distracting him all night.

He barely had an ounce of interest to spare for his family or friends or anyone else at the gala. Not when she was wearing that dress, beads and sequins adorning miles of soft, glowing skin, the necklace he gifted her dangling between her breasts. Teasing him, tempting him.

Not to mention that she’d gotten extensions for the occasion, her ebony hair flowing down her back. He hadn’t been able to stop running his hand over it, twisting it around his fingers, and Kate didn’t stop him even though he knew he was messing it up.

The feral little monster within him screamed don’t look at her. She belongs to me. The slightly more rational part of him was proud to be there with her, to have a woman so beautiful and kind and whip-smart on his arm. To have a woman who had hated him for so long look at him with love and devotion. How could he not be a little smug about that?

She leaned into him and placed her hand on his chest, laughing at something Simon said that Anthony had missed entirely, too overwhelmed by the wafting of her lily scent. Anthony clenched his jaw, fighting with every fiber of his being the urge to drag Kate into the nearest room with a door that locked - or hell, a door that closed - and do unspeakable things to her.

Kate curled her fingers, stroking his lapel absentmindedly, and Anthony truly had enough. His grip tightened on her waist and she gasped quietly, looking over at him. “Make an excuse before I take you right here in this room,” he whispered in her ear.

Swallowing, she nodded. “We’re just going to get some fresh air,” Kate said, ignoring Simon’s knowing smirk. “We’ll be back later.”

She took his hand, leading him down the hallway and trying each of the doors as subtly as she could. Finally, they found a conference room and stumbled inside, Kate locking the door behind them.

“Christ, Kate, you’re so…” He pulled her against his chest, inhaling at her neck, where her scent was the strongest. “I want you so goddamn bad. All the time. No, I don’t want you. I need you. Do you understand that?”

Kate moaned as his lips brushed her skin. “What do you need?” she asked breathlessly.

“I need you on your knees,” Anthony said, a little tentative. They both knew that they could say no at any time. If they weren’t in the mood, or it was too far, or they needed something different. But there wasn’t much they denied each other.

Keeping her eyes on his, Kate lifted her dress off the floor and knelt on the carpet. A goddess, submitting to him willingly. She undid his trousers, pushing them and his boxers down just far enough for his cock to spring free.

“You like the hair, don’t you?” He nodded, his mouth dry. “Go ahead and use it then.”

A growl came from deep in his throat as he gathered a handful of her hair and tightened his fist. Kate whimpered a little at the tension on her scalp and flicked the tip of him with her tongue. “Fucking tease,” he murmured.

Another long lick against his length, then she stretched her lips over him, taking him shallowly.

And then she looked at him. Big brown eyes staring up at him as she stilled, waiting for his direction.

“I love you,” he huffed, using his grip on her hair to push her further down. There were few greater heavens than fucking Kate’s warm, wet mouth. Being in control because she trusted him to protect her, to care for her, to use her in a way that would bring her pleasure too.

Kate moaned around his shaft as he controlled her movements, the silky strands curled tightly around his fingers, tears smudging her eyeliner as he brushed her throat. She hollowed her cheeks, creating more resistance as he pulled his hips back, and he rubbed his thumb over her cheekbone.

“You’re beautiful,” Anthony breathed. “No one has ever looked more beautiful like this.”

He’d been aching all night, and it didn’t take more than a couple of minutes of Kate sucking him off for Anthony to release into her velvet soft mouth. With a practiced ease, she slid off him and swallowed, wiping her mouth.

Tugging Kate up by her hair, he kissed her feverishly, savoring the combined taste of them on her tongue. Wrapping one arm around her back, Anthony used the other to ruck up her dress and slip his fingers into her tiny knickers, teasing her slit.

“Have you been this wet all night?” he hissed, his fingers slipping through her flowing arousal. “Or did you get wet taking my cock?”

“All night,” Kate admitted. “You look so handsome. Please touch me, baby, please-.”

A little roughly, he pushed two fingers inside her, going straight for the spot that made her shudder in his arms as his thumb rolled her clit. Murmuring a litany of encouragement into her ear, there you go, honey, just breathe and take it, you did so good, so pretty with a cock in your mouth, go ahead sweetheart, just come now, come on-

She made a desperate little noise, tightening hard around the fingers inside her as her orgasm rolled over her. Anthony held her closer as she slumped into him, her body trembling and weak as he worked her through the aftershocks until she flinched with sensitivity.

Withdrawing his fingers gently, he scanned Kate’s face, ensuring that she was alright. She smiled affectionately at the compulsive motion, nodding. “I’m okay. I’m going to need about twenty minutes in the restroom to look like I didn’t just give a blowjob, though.”

Anthony laughed, pecking her lips. “I happen to think you look perfect like this.”

#say my name #bridgerton #kanthony #asks and answers #kate x anthony #anthony x kate #bridgerton fic

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rems-writing · 8 months ago

Text

Cat collar

Pairing: San × afab!reader

Summary: CONGRATULATIONS YOU PICKED THE CAT COLLAR! please listen to Exchange by Bryson Tiller as you read your choice

Warning(s): mentions of another idol, oral (m!receiving), riding

Genre: Nasty smut

Nets: @mirohs-aurora-society

I picked up the cat collar and brushed off the Siamese cat fur. It transformed into a blindfold. A black blindfold made out of the same silk that was on the bed. The TV started playing a song and I gulped.

Shit. Out of all the Bryson Tiller songs, why did the TV choose Exchange?

As soon as the acapella hit, I was confused. Bryson's voice didn't come out of the TV speaker. It was only the official studio instrumental playing. But I swear I heard a voice. I looked around the room and I saw a man sitting at the table where the champagne was. His mouth was moving.

He was the one singing?

Why did he sound so much like a siren luring in his next victim? He probably was to be honest. With the sketchiness of this motel, I won't be surprised if my friends saw my name and my dead body on the news the next day.

"Come sit and have a drink with me, kitten."

He stopped singing after the first verse. The music played while I slowly sat down at the table. He poured a glass of champagne for me and slid the glass across the table. I gingerly picked it up and he smirked before raising his glass.

"Happy Valentine's Day, kitten."

"Happy Valentine's Day uh..."

"San. Choi San. Nice to meet you, kitten."

"I'm Y/N..."

"I know, kitten. I know..."

WAIT WHAT?!

We clinked glasses and we took a sip. The champagne was pretty good and I finished the whole glass since I needed some type of alcohol to boost my confidence in talking to this angel with the siren voice. I poured myself another glass and drank it. He laughed quietly as I kept drinking until there was enough for him so he can have one more glass.

"Why the excessive drinking, kitten? Are you still sad over your ex?"

I scoffed as I set my glass down.

"Hardly. But my brain keeps thinking about Jeno so I'm trying to forget about him."

"I mean you're in this room with me, sipping on the finest champagne and conversing with me. Let me help you in forgetting him by making you scream my name."

The next thing I know, I was lifted off my chair and thrown onto the bed. HOLY SHIT HE WAS STRONG! He crawled on top of me and tied the blindfold around my head so my vision was obscured. We soon switched positions and I blushed when I felt his boner against my clothed core. I was straddling him and I felt around him, my hands settling on his chest.

HE HAD SUCH A NICE CHEST TOO! AND WHEN THE FUCK DID HE TAKE OFF HIS SHIRT?

His hands were roaming my body and he was whispering dirty things in my ear while he unbuttoned my flannel and unclipped my bra. He was so fast with it! He also took off my pants and underwear as well as his own. By the time we were both naked, he caressed my face and guided my head to his thick cock.

"Lube me up, kitten. And be nasty with it."

I nodded and placed my lips on his leaking tip. Slowly, I took him into my mouth until I was able to swallow him whole. He told me to be nasty with it so I attempted to deepthroat him.

How the fuck did I succeed?

His groans and moans were low and airy as he threw his head back. He was breathing heavily as he caressed my face.

"Go ahead, kitten. It's all yours."

For the next few minutes, I was sucking his cock like a pro. I didn't have a gag reflex so I felt like I was on top of the world. However, he held my head still and he thrusted up my mouth. He soon released his cock from my mouth and he bent over me to grab my hips and sink me down onto his dick. Our moans were so loud as I basically got speared by him.

"Ride me."

HE DIDN'T HAVE TO TELL ME TWICE!

I was riding his dick like my life depended on it. I was still blindfolded so I couldn't see his reaction to me bouncing on him. But his breathy moans were enough reassurance that he was enjoying it. He brought me closer to him and whispered in my ear.

"You are so gorgeous, kitten. Bouncing on my cock like this. Screw your ex. He didn't fucking deserve you. I will take care of you. I will give you everything. Name your price and I will give my all. You are mine and mine alone. No one else can have you. I am devoted to you and you only. Now cum. Cum all over this cock. This cock is yours."

A high-pitched moan escaped my lips as I came all over his cock. He moaned as well as he held my hips down and shot his load inside me. We were both sweaty and breathing heavily. I felt him take the blindfold off me and I blinked rapidly so I could adjust to the light. He pulled out of me and smiled, showing off his dimples. He kissed my cheeks and played with my ass for a few seconds before settling me down next to him.

"Oh kitten... you truly are a gem in my eyes. Come closer and let us sleep."

I snuggled closer to him and shut my eyes slowly before drifting off to sleep.

[Go back for other choices]

#ateez x reader #ateez smut #ateez imagines #ateez fanfic #ateez #mirohsaurorasociety

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yooglefics · 6 months ago

Text

The casual type: 03 . The past

Pairing: Min Yoongi x fem!reader Wordcount: 2,993 words Genre ( for the whole series ): AU. College!verse. Strangers to friends with benefits to ?????. Eventual smut. Hurt / comfort at times. Fluff for cute friends. Summary: ( Ep. 03 ) • Is finally time to talk about how you got here. And of course, you aren't the only one with a past. Warnings under read more.

Includes ( this episode ): There's flirting and progress is made. The squad is cute. Mentions of cheating in the past ( not from main characters ), bad relationship dynamics, fuckboy shenanigans ( say no to fuckboys ), and broken hearts. Author's note: I have a question for you guys: should I start adding the pet names in the warning? Because my thing is that Yoongi has been using them in context of what is happening, like in a banter kind of way, but… should that be a warning in itself? As always, hope you like this one, remember to leave a comment, reblog, send an ask, follow or whatnot. Thank you for reading <3

The motorcycle ride wasn't as scary as you thought it'd be. In fact, it was kind of calming. The streets were mostly empty and Yoongi drove at a decent speed, mainly of course, because you told him you'd kill him if he didn't. But it was nice, a good distraction and an interesting way to end a hectic night.

Monday morning comes around and your stomach hurts with anxiety at the thought of the inevitable. Is even worse than when you have to give a class presentation, at least in those cases your life isn't the subject. And your only hope to get you throughout the day is that everything would feel better after talking with the guys.

“Are you not finishing those?” Jungkook points at the fries on your plate after a while of sitting in the cafeteria. Your group has assigned this time as lunch hour since everyone is free while some of them wait for their next class.

“You can have them if you want.” Everyone's eyes turn to you as if a second head has grown, “I'm not hungry.”

“But… is fries?” Says the soccer player and to his credit, is true that turning down fries is a sign you may be sick, and honestly, it feels a little bit like you are and that's what finally makes you decide is time.

“Let's talk. Outside.”

You can't bear the awkwardness. They tip-toeing around, putting too much thought on your actions. It can't go any longer, but you still take a few minutes to walk them outside the cafeteria and to the back of the building. Away from the protagonist of your story.

“Oh… hi.” Greets Yoongi, his arm mid air as he stops the action of putting a cigarette between his lips. “Walking all together like that, you guys do look like a gang,” he jokes after you and your friends say hello.

“Says the guy smoking,” Jimin’s answer, gaining some laughs.

“Sorry,” he really seems remorseful, “I'll go somewhere else.”

“Actually,” grabbing his forearm, you stop him from leaving. “Can you stay? I think I do need moral support.”

On friday night he told you asking Mai to be there when talking about everything could be a good idea, and with a shake of your head against his back you answered you didn't want to bother her, already feeling bad about worrying her that night. So, he said he would do it. If you needed support he would be there as a payment for saving him at the club the night you met and that you only needed to ask.

Even so, it is surprising to you when he just nods and goes back to his position against the wall. You stay in front of him and your friends gather at your sides in a circle, ready to listen.

“Okay. Well,” you take a deep breath, “first you have to promise to not do anything. Not threatening, not breaking noses. Nothing. You promise?”

They do, with only a “But if it is really bad can I scream at them?” from Jungkook.

“No. I don't want more drama.”

And they nod once more, and again, you breathe.

“So, there's this guy, he is from the basketball team,” Hobi got that right, but it wasn’t surprising after you took a liking for going to the games and then stopped just as suddenly even if Jungkook was still part of the team. “We were talking for a couple months. You know, messaging and… just flirting I guess.”

“You guess?” Taehyun asks to clarify.

“Yes? I… I don't know. Sometimes it would be more obvious than others and we would talk about what we wanted in a relationship as if we were talking about our relationship.” In the moment you thought it was obvious, you were flirting and planning the future; both of you mentioned wanting something beautiful and long lasting. But after everything, you wonder how truthful everything really was. “We even went on a few dates and on Valentine's he got me a necklace and a cute cart saying how much I meant to him.”

“And you didn't tell me?” Jimin argues. The only one that says something even when all your friends at surprised at that.

“I’m sorry. I wanted to, I swear, but I also wanted to enjoy it just myself for a little bit.”

“And what happened? Why did it end?” Tae wonders impatiently.

“Well,” the phantom pain from that day is back on your chest, “sometime at the beginning of April he canceled a date and because I already had told you guys I was staying on campus to study, I ended up going to the movies by myself and…”

“He was there?” You nod. “With… someone… else?”

All your friends react at Tae's guess and you only nod again. Your eyes are fixed on Yoongi, on the half burnt cigarette still in his hand that is now off, to avoid looking at them and the sadness on their faces. You can't handle that. Even when you tell yourself you're over everything, finally telling them about it and knowing how it makes them feel revives how you hurt back then. In a certain way, it gives you the validation you didn't have at the time, and that you didn't know you needed.

Is healing, and you wish a little bit you had told them sooner.

“I bumped into her and at first I didn't see him.” You continue narrating, “Her drink spilled and I was helping dry her hand when I noticed the little smiley on her bracelet and it was the same as mine.”

There are reactions all around the circle once more, Yoongi's “how original” comment makes your lips curve slightly. And it’s surprising, but you’re glad to be able to find the fun in it now.

“I didn't think anything about it, you know, just like, cool, we have the same cute pendant, but then I heard his voice and well… It wasn't cute anymore.”

You remember how shocked you were in the moment and his face as he realized it was you in front of them.

“What did you do?” asks Hobi.

“At least tell us you spilled the drink on him next.” Adds Jungkook.

“I didn't do anything,” and there's a part of you that regrets it. “I was so surprised and confused. I thought that maybe I'd made it all up in my head, that maybe he didn't mean the things he said like that. Because there was no way he could just turn around and be official with another girl by next monday, right?” You pause for a second to take some air, trying to calm down since the tears would be threatening to fall anytime soon. “But he did. And when I texted him and asked to meet up to talk, he replied with just a «thanks for these few months».” A dry laugh leaves your throat, every time you think about that text you find it stupider. “And just like that it was over. And I felt so dumb for letting it happen.”

“Don't say that. Is not on you,” says Hobi immediately.

“He played you. He is an asshole.” Jungkook continues, “C'mon here, so I don't run back in and punch his stupid face,” he says bringing you into a hug.

“So,” Yoongi starts after a few minutes of sitting in silence on the bench outside the cafeteria. Your appetite has come back and your friends are busy with their next class, one you don't share even with the ones in your major since you have stuck to an all-morning schedule, so you're left to share a bag of chips with him. “Can I ask something?”

“Can I refuse to answer?”

“I hope you don't,” that makes you laugh, “because I'm really curious now.”

“Okay, shoot.”

“What happened seems like the perfect reason to avoid casual things, but that's not what I got from our date.”

“That's not a question, Yoongi,” you remark playfully when he doesn't continue, turning to him, bending your leg on the bench. “You want to know why I didn't run the moment you told me you didn't want a relationship?”

“Yes,” he nods, “that's what I meant. What I want to know.”

“Well, because you were honest about it.” Is as simple as that, but he still looks unsure. “I’m pretty sure that Chr– that guy,” remembering Yoongi is trying for the team you decide is best to not give out names to him either, “wasn't looking for something serious when we were talking, but he played into it because I said I was. He built my hopes up of something more and in the end he kind of just admitted that I was someone he was just spending time with. He didn't want something serious with me but he wasn't honest about it.”

“Would you have had something with him if he had been honest? If he asked to be friends with benefits or whatever?”

You chew a chip while thinking, taking some time.

“I don't know,” is your final answer, “I know it hasn't even been a year, but I was different back then, had other expectations and such. But what I'm sure of is that I'd have loved to be able to decide for myself, you know?”

“Of course. Is different when you are the one deciding to put your heart at potential risk.” he steals a chip from your bag, and silence falls once again.

So far Yoongi has proven to be a good person to talk to and to just be around in general, maybe Mai and Hobi were right about you guys being similar and setting up the date last week. Thinking about that and the phrase he just said reminds you of something and is your turn to wonder.

“Did she break your heart?”

“Who?”

“The redhead from the club.”

His expression changes a little bit, but you're getting better at noticing, so you catch it. “Thought you had forgotten about that.”

“Almost did, but you know, I'm curious too.”

“Curiosity killed the cat.”

“But satisfaction brought it back,” you complete the idiom, smiling proudly.

“Touché.”

“I'm a smart cat, what can I say.”

That gets you a smile from Yoongi and he changes position, reclining his back against the bench and looking straight ahead he commences. “We met at the beginning of university, had a few classes together and started hanging out, became friends, and then started dating at the start of our second semester. Everything was easy and calm, the change from friends to more didn't even register to me, I… I don't know if it makes sense.”

“Sounds lovely,” you point out.

“It was. I thought it was perfect. And perhaps it was for a while, but after dating for about nine months something changed.” A little wrinkle appears on his forehead as he thinks, “I couldn't point it out and sometimes it felt like it was all in my head. And that made me more nervous because I didn't want to self-sabotage, you know.” You nod, fully facing his side now, sitting indian style and bag of chips on your lap. Paying attention as he did before for you.

“She wasn't big on PDA and I respected that, but when I told Mai we were together and she got mad I kind of realized that we had been secretly dating for almost a year. None of hers, and ours, closest friends knew about us and it felt… it hurt.” He pauses for a moment, bringing his hands to his jacket’s pockets. “So, I wanted to talk to her about it. To try and find a solution, to tell her I was sorry for telling Mai but I wanted to talk to my best friend about my girlfriend and how much I…” another pause, breathing in. “But when I went to her dorm, it was Jay who opened the door.”

You gasp unintentionally, covering your mouth right away. “Where they…?” You don't know what to say. And you don't really need to say anything, everything is pretty clear.

“Turns out they had been together for about three months at that point.”

You gasp again, shocked.

“In and out, kitten, don't die.” He manages to joke and that makes you feel worse about your response.

“Sorry. Is just…”

“A lot?”

“Yeah. And… crazy. How could she cheat on you? I mean, in general, I don't get why people do it, but… on you?”

“I’m going to take that as a compliment.” He chuckles a bit.

“I mean because your relationship sounded lovely. Dating your friend? That's the goal, isn't it?” You correct, “But also, yes. You're good looking and your kissing game is not bad.”

“You're not bad yourself.”

Looking at each other, you both laugh.

“I'm sorry that happened to you,” you offer sincerely on a more serious note, “you know it is not on you, right?”

“I know,” he sighs, Mai had made sure to repeat it to him countless times back when everything happened and the couple months after until he truly believed it, “thank you.”

“And I know is scary and I'm not one to say it but… don't let what happened make you run away from the opportunity of something great.”

Yoongi smiles softly without really reaching his eyes and you completely understand when instead of keeping the conversation serious, he asks “Are you flirting with me?”

“You turned me down, remember? I'm not doing that again,” you answer only half joking.

“C’mon, I told you why I did it”

“You were deciding for me.” He opens and closes his mouth, shaking his head and before he can apologize again, you clarify, “I'm just joking.”

“You're mean. But I forgive because you're cute.”

“Are you flirting with me?”

“Yes.” He answers without a beat.

“Shut up.”

“Make me.”

A pause, contemplating.

“You wish.”

He smirks, “I do.”

And you do too. But your bravery from the other night is not here today and you wonder if it's because you're at the University campus or because all you have done today is talk about your bad luck in relationships and the fear of it all.

What if your friends see?

What if anyone else who knows them sees and tells them?

But what if it is the last chance you get to kiss Yoongi again?

Why are you overthinking it? Wasn't your plan to just go with the flow or whatever cheesy quote you chose?

“Was that too much?” Yoongi asks. The wind has blown a strain of hair into your face and he pulls it back in place behind your ear. “I don't have a problem being the one flirting, but if you really don't want me to do it again I'd completely stop. I promise.”

“Is not that,” you quickly answer. “I–I like it, is just…” some people walk out of the cafeteria, and you follow them with your gaze, is hard for him not to notice.

“Come with me?” Standing up after him, you follow Yoongi across campus and behind the auditorium. He has only been here about a week, that's why you're surprised when he announced not a lot of people come here confidentiality.

“The ones still on campus are busy, either in normal classes or in extracurriculars.”

“You aren't on any extracurriculars?”

A shake of your head, “I live through Jungkook, that kid does everything.”

Yoongi laughs. “That's why everyone knows him?”

“That and those Bambi's eyes,” you nod, laughing with him.

You are calmer now and guess that was Yoongi’s plan for bringing you here. So, when he doesn't say anything else, you decide to continue the other conversation.

“I guess that's why it’s kind of scary to flirt so openly with you. Especially now after finding out about the whole thing with Hobi and the basketball team,” you sigh.

“Do you think someone is going to tell him if they see us?”

“Probably?”

“So are you telling me to stop flirting?”

“No.” You answer too fast and he smirks, making you feel a bit shy, but yet, you continue. “I’m just not sure how they'd take the whole «hey, I'm flirting and kissing this guy. Is nothing serious we are just messing around».”

“«Messing around»? Are you fifty?” Yoongi laughs.

“They are! When is about me they act like everything is so extreme,” you pout a little.

“Poor baby,” he mirrors your pout, hands on your shoulders rubbing them softly.

“And I'm scared they would make everything so dramatic, you know? Like, if we want to kiss or whatever without being so serious about it, then what’s the issue?”

“They worry about you and want to protect you. Don't blame them too much.”

“Don't be on their side,” you shove him a little, “I'm trying to kiss you.”

He laughs, “Sorry. I'm on your side.” Pulling you closer and wrapping his arms around your middle.

“While we both are on the same page about what we want, it shouldn't be an issue. Don't you agree?”

“Totally.”

“So,” you look up at him, “what do you want?”

“I want to kiss you.”

You blush at how direct he is. “Not what I meant.”

“Well, like I said, I'm not really looking for a relationship right now. I don't think I'm ready to put myself at that emotional risk again yet. But I didn’t mind you kissing me, and wouldn't complain if you want to do it again,” he says honestly. “What about you?”

“Also not really looking for a serious relationship. I think I just want to explore life a little, whatever that means. I want to have fun and not get hurt.”

“I'll never hurt you.”

“I'll never hurt you, either,” you promise looking into chocolate eyes, getting on the tip of your toes to peck his lips, sealing it.

A/N: alright, this is officially a friends with benefits fic now, who is excited? asdfg Check this post for the calendar and pinterest board and more yapping that tumblr doesn't let me add here :/

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