#and i don't think any other concert will ever top this one

[quentinfiletmignon]

RAMMSTEIN • 12.05.24 • LETŇANY AIRPORT, PRAGUE

[gadriezmannsgirl]

hiii i hope ure doing amazing!!! could i request one for gavi where the reader is more on the curvy side and feels a bit insecure ? if ure not comfortable writing it it’s totally fine !!! sending loads of love have a nice day and thank u for always taking the time to read the requests!!🫶🏻🫶🏻

Warnings: Gavi being a cute boyfriend, mentions of wanting to do mature things with their partner, nothing graphic or explicit happens. No proofread, sorry if there's any mistakes

Beautiful Either Way -P.G6

Summary: He takes your insecurities away

You sigh the fourth time in a row, you grabbed the ends of the shirt you were wearing and pulled it off of your body. You stood in silence watching your closet and all the clothes that laid inside there but none of those things were enough for you today. You were going out with both your and your boyfriend's Pablo's parents, today.

And also today was one of those days you felt you weren't pretty enough. Ever since you were young, you have fought to meet the beauty standars society sets but that wasn't for you.

Naturally you have a curvy complex and that's not something you can change and whilst you were happy with your body, you couldn't help but feel sad some days because you couldn't wear x type of clothing without being afraid of how you'll look like and if people were going to judge you.

When you first meet your boyfriend, it was while you were on vacation in Ibiza, you didn't think you would take his attention and mostly when your best friend is a pretty gorgeous, skinny with both great atributes, blonde with green eyes.

You were behind him and his group of friends when some dude tried to play smart with both you and your friend, Ana. And luckily, he and his friends helped the two of you out.

"What are you two doing here?" One of them asked

"We're in the UK having a cup of tea. What about you?" You said smiling and with sarcasm on your tone. The guys laughed softly "Sorry, we're here because our vacations, it was supposed to be a group of three but the other girl got sick last minute and we were actually already in the plane so we couldn't back down" You explained

"Is she okay?" Another guy asked and you and Ana nod

"Are you okay?" A brunette with a frown plastered on his face said to you "The guy touched you?"

"Oh no, I'm fine. Thanks for stepping in by the way"

"It's no problem. I'm glad you're okay" He said looking at you as you blush lightly. He clears his throat and talks again "Would you girls like to spend the rest of the concert with us? I brought my sister and she brought some of her friends too so in that way you girls aren't that lonely here" He said looking straight into your eyes. You blushed lightly, looked down at your feet and then up to meet his big brown eyes. You nod

"Sure. What's your name guy with a sister?"

"Pablo. Yours?"

"Y/N"

You and Pablo didn't minded a lot of the concert since then, he was pretty much talking to you, you talking to him about everything and that night you both exchanged numbers to keep in contact.

You both were sad to see the other leave but it was a delight when you both found out the other was living in Barcelona as well and then the rest is story.

Nine months forward you were in Barcelona, with your seven months boyfriend, Pablo Gavi, getting ready for the small meet-up with the family

"Mi amor, are we ready? We need to go, my mom's texting me that they're already on their way and yours said that they were finishing some stuffs to go ther-What happened here?" He cut himself off looking around the floor seeing all the shirts, dresses, tops, shorts laying on the floor

"I don't know what to wear" You whined crossing your arms around your belly

"But you were ready a few minutes ago?" You give him a look and shook your head before looking back at your closet "Why don't you wear that white top I love on you?"

"Because I don't feel like wearing it today"

"Why not?"

"It doesn't match with the jean"

"You can wear the beige skirt you got last month and with this white sneakers, it'll be perfect for you" You shook your head softly

"I don't feel like going with skirt today, Pabs"

"Why not?"

"Because I don't want to" You cried out "Have you seen my legs?"

"Yes, I have but I don't see any problems with them"

"They're as big as yours, Pablo!"

"They're not but even if they were, what's the problem?" You hated how clueless he could be sometimes

"That's the problem"

"Why's that the problem? I love them, your legs are gorgeous"

"Well I don't love my legs and I'm not loving my body either" He stayed quiet a few minutes before he clicked his tongue

"I got it now and it's shame you think that way. They're the most gorgeous legs I've ever seen on a girl and don't even get me started on your body" One of his hands gripped yours as he pulled himself behind you and kissed your cheek

You turned your head to him "You have to say that because I'm your girlfriend"

"And even if you weren't, I'd still say it" You shook your head softly, looking ahead of you to re-start the research of a shirt. "Hey, escúchame" (Listen to me) "You don't have to be skinny to be beautiful, Y/N. Your body, the one you're not loving right now, it's the one that I love, that has me crazy everyday and I'm wanting to do so many things to you to prove you that I'm crazy in love with those gorgeous legs, that I'm crazy in love with these beautiful hips, in love with your tummy, with your breasts, arms, hands, jaw, lips, ears, everything" He spoke into your ear, his free arm wrapping itself around your body to pull you into him. You couldn't help the smile at the mention of him wanting to get you under the covers

"But I did not only fell in love with your beautiful physical appearance. I feel in love with your beautiful personality, your way of seeing good things in everything and in everyone, your kindness, your selfless, honesty, every single thing about you. You're beautiful either way and if others can see that, if I can see that, you can as well and I want you to know it, I want you to feel beautiful because you are. Inside and Out. Understand me?" You nod, your heart melting at your boyfriend's love, you had a smile on your face and your let yourself rest against him

"Understood" You whisper turning around to hug him "Thank you for loving me whenever I'm not loving myself"

"I always will love you, no matter what. But you should love yourself always, curvy or skinny, blonde or brunette, tall or short, you're perfect. You're perfect for me and for anyone"

"I'm lucky to have you" He smiled shaking his head

"I'm the lucky one" He kissed your cheek thrice "Now, we've plans and here's what we're gonna do. I'm going to grab that top I love of yours, I'm gonna put it on you and we're also going to put on that skirt, we'll put on one of my jackets" He got closer to your face, lips being milimeters away "...and after we make out for a while, after we take some pics of ourselves being the most perfect couple in the world" you smiled making him smile too, he was so close that everytime he spoke, his lips crashed onto yours but you welcomed every kiss "we're going to go to that dinner, spend a nice evening with our parents and when we come back, we're not leaving that bed until tomorrow so I can show you how crazy you drive me" You laughed throwing your head back before connecting your lips with his

"That sounds like a good idea"

"It doesn't sound like a good idea, it is a good idea and that's what we're going to do if it's okay with you"

"It's perfect for me"

"Then let's go. Get yourself out of those jeans right now" You laugh pecking his lips once again before letting him go into your wardrobe. You looked at him and smiled, he was wearing white shirt and beige pants with white sneakers.

"Are you going to match our clothes?" He threw the skirt at your way jokingly and with a smile, he answered

"Of course I am. What kind of boyfriend would I be if I don't?"

°°° °°° °°° °°°

Taglist: @gaviymarcsbride @stuckinaf4nfiction @elijahslover @azzpenswrld @http-isabela

[thetriumphantpanda]

I Was Enchanted To Meet You | J. Miller Drabble

Summary | Literally just a Drabble about Joel being an era's tour dad, meeting a pretty girl in cowboy boots and flirting. That's it. It's dumb. This goes out to my girl Doni @morning-star-joy who is going to see Tay-Tay tonight and can now be delulu about meeting Joel Miller there. And also therapy for me because I'm in the UK and got waitlisted for tickets, so CRIES. I wrote this in like an hour so excuse any spelling/grammar errors.

Joel Miller didn't exactly understand when he'd signed up to take Sarah to her first concert. When she'd asked to use his credit card to buy the tickets, he'd just nodded and handed it over. When his bill came through the next month, he almost passed out from the cost. But stood here now, in seats that might very well give him a nosebleed, watching Sarah almost lose her mind over the fact that Taylor Swift was about to appear on stage, it was all forgotten. All Joel ever wanted was for his little girl to be happy.

He'd spent weeks listening to the songs, learning the lyrics so he might be able to sing along with Sarah. He watched her sit in front of the television each night making bracelets to trade, and he squirrelled away as much money as possible so he could buy her a t-shirt or something on the night too.

Joel was watching as Sarah swapped friendship bracelets with two girls to her right when something else caught his eye. Two people shuffling into the two seats that had been vacant in front of Joel and Sarah for most of the night. One of them, around Sarah's age, was almost as excited as his girl, bouncing up and down, looking around the stadium with eyes as wide as saucers, taking it all in, but you? You were something else entirely. You had a white cowboy hat sat on top of your head, not dissimilar to his own apart from the colour and the fact yours was covered in sparkly rhinestones. You had a white dress on, falling to your mid-thigh, made of lace and scalloped edges, and a pair of beat-up old brown leather cowboy boots. The literal picture of heaven on earth as far as he was concerned.

He watched as you pointed to the two seats in front of him and Sarah, motioning for the other girl to sit down so you could hand her the soda you were carrying. He noticed your wrists were covered in the same type of bracelets his daughter had been going wild for all evening. Almost on cue, Sarah leans over, tapping your shoulder.

"You wanna trade?" She asks, holding up her own plastic-laden wrist to show you.

"Hell yeah," You smile, nudging the girl with you, "Why don't you give this little superstar one of yours too?"

Joel watches intently as you let Sarah scan your wrists for the specific bracelet she wants, picking one made of pink beads, swapping it with one of hers that was made of black and gold. Joel had no idea what any of them meant, all he knew was that the bill for friendship bracelet materials on his credit card nearly rivalled the bill for the tickets.

"You want one as well, mister?" Your voice cuts through his thoughts, "Can't come and see Taylor and leave with empty wrists I'm afraid."

"Well, I ain't got anything to trade ya with." Joel shrugs.

"That's okay," you smile, "I'll forgive you, this time."

Joel keeps an eye trained on you as you search your wrists, obviously having something incredibly specific in mind for him. You find it, eyes lighting up as you pull it from your wrist and hand it over to him. He takes the delicate thing in his big palm - red, white and blue beads with letters in hearts that spell out 'Cowboy Like Me'. Very fitting.

"Thanks, Darlin'," He smiles, slipping it over his hand, "You been waiting to find the perfect man to give that to all night?"

You let your head fall back in a laugh and Joel thinks you might just be the prettiest goddamned girl he's ever seen in his life. Sarah is pulling at his wrist so she can see exactly what bracelet you've given her dad, laughing and then leaning forward.

"I made him wear the hat!" She exclaims, "Told him he had to fit in."

"Well, you made a good choice," You grin, "He looks mighty fine in his cowboy hat."

You finally turn your attention back to your companion - judging by your likeness he assumes it must be your little sister. You're pointing out things around the stadium for her to look at, and he can't help but find it endearing how she's bouncing in her seat at every little thing, much like Sarah had done when they'd taken their seats.

Joel feels a nudge to his side, Sarah is looking up at him with that glint he knows and loves so much - she's got an idea.

"She's really pretty, dad."

"Sarah!" He chastises, eye flickering to you to make sure you didn't hear what she'd said, but you look completely oblivious.

"She is though!" She retorts in a hushed whisper, "I think she likes you."

Joel brings a finger to his lips to try and get this devil of a girl to be quiet, but he can't help but indulge her - Sarah was right, you are really pretty, "She don't know the first thing about me," He finishes the conversation, "Now you sit tight, I'm going to find you a soda."

When Joel returns, to drinks in hand, he can see Sarah leant over the seats speaking to you. He dreads to think what she's been trying to cook up, seemingly obsessed with making sure he's not so lonely in life anymore.

"Move over," He asks, Sarah shifting to the seat he was in before he left, "Don't drink it all at once, you'll need it for all the screaming you're gonna do." He says, handing the soda to her.

Once he sits back down, you turn in your chair to speak to him.

"Sarah says you're a builder?" She asks, clearly just trying to make polite conversation with him whilst your sister speaks to Sarah.

"Contractor actually," He shrugs, as if it matters, "But yeah, I build stuff, what do you do?"

"I'm a teacher," You smile, "Teach 4th grade." He's about to ask you another question when every single person in the stadium starts screaming, he thinks by the end of tonight he might actually be deaf, "Well, you enjoy the show, mister, hope you learnt some lyrics."

Contrary to what he'd thought, Joel actually does enjoy the show. He sings along to some of the songs he remembers, dances with Sarah for most of the night and keeps a close eye on you during it all. You know every single word to every single song, just like your little sister and he has to admit that when you're throwing your hands in the air and screaming to the lyrics, he finds you prettier than he had done all night.

When all is said and done at the end of the night, you say a polite goodbye to him and Sarah. When he finally sits in his truck, waiting for the scores of traffic to clear so he can get them home, he kicks himself for not asking for your number, but resigns himself to the fact that it was fate. Meant to meet once and that was it. It's not until he's finally carried Sarah up to bed, fast asleep in his arms and settled down to unwind in front of the TV that he pulls his phone from his pocket and sees a message from an unknown number.

I was enchanted to meet you, Joel. Drinks? Saturday @ 6pm?

[scekrex]

Hello there gorgeous ✨

Prompt idea with reader being a part of a band that's heavily inspired by Babymetal, like the type of music is pop mixed with metal, the outfits, the whole vibe basically. Heaven's got a new band in town and it's reader's band (You can either create a name for them, go without mentioning any name or whatever else you choose to do with that! You can even ask me and we'll both think about the name c:). Adam at first was like "Tf? New band getting popular? Pfft, they probably suck, no one can out-do the first fucking man🙄" but then when Lute asked him to actually go and check it out with her since she got curious when one of the exterminators went there and told her that it was absolutely fucking awesome. They go and it's literally just a blast. The crowd work is astonishing with how the fans, even the shy ones, have no problems with being vocal with the lyrics or movement, the light effects are just top notch, sound quality is gorgeous and clear, the vibe on its own is just one of a kind and Adam is like "Yeah, shit, this is actually really cool, like wtf" but the biggest magic is when he first hears and then sees the reader alongside the two of his like "backup vocals" (I wouldn't really call Mo or Moa that, but I can't find a better word rn) absolutely rocking out, enchanting everyone as if he was some sort of magician, making Adam start questioning his sexuality, simply going "Am I fucking gay? What's actually happening right now?"

Recommendations for like ideal crowd work representation would be any song but my favourite is this one:

https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=E8pcFhPZQYg&pp=ygUKSGVhZGJhbmdlcg%3D%3D

Light and visual effects I'd probably say this one:

https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=Hru3zh8l2kE&pp=ygUUQmFieW1ldGFsIGRpc3RvcnRpb24%3D

And the one that could work the best in my opinion to like WOW his snarky bitch ass would be this one:

https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=ALznpaBWUTo&pp=ygUMbWV0YWxraW5nZG9t

Rock on my superstar! 🤟🎸❤️

Sup babes, I changed the vibe a lil, going in a more punk-like direction. I don't like describing outfits so the only thing that got a description is reader's vest bc low-key important. Anyway I hope you like it!! xoxo

Part 2

And I dream to be your fantasy

pairing: Adam x male!reader

warnings: language & sexual tension

note: not beta read bc fuck you I don't have beta readers

A new band was blowing up in heaven, their posters were everywhere and Adam was already pissed off by it. Who the fuck did they think they were? Playing in his area? Fuck no. He avoided them as best as he could - considering that their posters hung in every window it wasn't that easy to do.

Lute landed next to Adam, she was visibly excited about something so the first man stopped with a sigh and turned around to look at her, “Sir, have you heard about Divine Fuck-Ups?” Adam growled as he gave Lute a nod, “Bitch, their posters are everywhere, how could I fucking not?” Lute simply rolled her eyes at him, “Yeah well, the other exorcists won't shut up about how good they are so,” the exorcist pulled out two concert tickets. Adam looked down at her, his expression a mix between hatred and betrayal. Had Lute seriously bought two tickets to a different band's concert? Especially when that band was playing in his fucking area on his fucking main stage? Apparently she fucking did. “You bought fucking tickets,” Adam grumbled, pointing out the most obvious thing ever. “The concert is tonight, I'll pick you up so we won't be late.” And it was not like Adam could have disagreed with her, Lute was onto something and the brunette was pretty sure she'd move mountains to get his ass to that concert.

-

The concert was… different than what Adam had expected it to be, the crowd was loud and wild, there were multiple mosh pits and none of their fans stood still for even the finest moment, they were constantly moving, vibing, enjoying their music to the brim. The first man had to admit: he was impressed by that. The only thing that bothered him was, that Lute had picked him up so fucking late that they were basically behind the massive crowd, enjoying the concert from the distance which also meant even though Adam was tall, he wasn't seeing shit.

So he simply grabbed Lute's wrist and pulled her with him as he made his way through the crowd, careful not to hurt anyone. Because while he was all for rock ‘n’ roll, the most rock thing to do was to watch out for each other at concerts, a rule he had learned very early.

He had somehow managed to make it to the front row, Lute by his side as he finally laid eyes on you for the first time. Your hair was sticking to your forehead, it was soaked in sweat just like the rest of your body - that was probably the reason why you were shirtless, wearing nothing but a black jeans vest with golden spikes on its shoulders. Your arm was wrapped around the waist of your background singer and you and him shared a microphone as you growled the lyrics of Lute's favorite song.

The background singer that had been in your arm only moments ago, was now dropping to his knees in front of you, grabbing your hips and wiggling them, his face only a couple centimeters away from your crotch, before he quickly got up again. Holy fuck that was hot. Adam was visibly mesmerized by your performance, not just the singing, growling and shouting but the way you owned that stage. The way you made the people go wild, your harmony with your band mates was a once in a lifetime sorta bond and the first man loved everything about it.

The song ended and you breathed heavily into your microphone. “Make some noise for Cove,” you yelled only to lick the man's jaw, Cove - the background singer that had gone down on you during your performance - was enjoying it, a little too much to Adam's liking but who was he to judge? Well he was the first man, that's who he was. “Okay, whatcha say to one more fucking song?” The crowd screamed and cheered, demanding the offered song like it was their air to breathe, shit even Lute screamed at the top of her lungs. Her white hair was all messy, her clothes clung to her body due to her sweating so much and she looked like she had one hell of a time.

The guitarist played the first three cords and the people around Adam were cheering, clapping and whistling. Then the drummer joined in and so did the bassist. Then your voice echoed through the air and Adam felt like he was in trance, all he needed was your voice and your body.

He wasn't able to dance, to enjoy the music, all he was hearing was your angelic sounding voice, it was enchanting through and through. The way you were moving your body held him in a chokehold, the amount of control you must have had over every single muscle was pure bliss in his eyes. He didn't even realize that the last song had ended and that you had just spoken your goodbyes, that's how lost he had been in your voice.

He really didn't understand why but everything inside of him was screaming to get to you, to make you his, to have you. Where those thoughts came from he didn't know, he wasn't gay after all but fuck you had looked hot on stage, better than any woman could have.

-

Don't ask him how, but he had managed to get a backstage pass once the concert had ended, it definitely had its advantages to be the first man. So there he was, waiting for you to arrive and once the door opened his eyes were basically glued onto you. “Hey there babes,” a cocky, confident smirk was on his lips as he pulled his mask off his head. You gave him a quick glance out of the corner of your eye as you walked over to your dresser, “So you're the bitch who thought of him as important enough to get backstage even though my team told ya no, huh?” Adam tilted his chin upwards as if that was something to accomplish, something to be proud of, “The one fucking and only.” You just rolled your eyes at his answer as you turned around to face him properly, “Listen, if you wanna hook up, now's a bad time. I have to get ready for another gig in just a couple of hours on the other side of heaven, be a fucking babe and leave, okay?” Oh but the brunette wasn't planning to, not now, not when he had the person he desired right in front of him. He walked over to you, his hand was quick to grab you by your hip and pull you in, the first man leaned down a little and murmured, “Oh babes, no need to act like you're fucking hard to get, I know you want me just as much as I want you.”

And that actually caused you to chuckle, because the confidence was so fucking wrong. You had just told him no and yet he acted like he was the man of your dreams. “Cutie,” your finger slid down his chest and stopped at his sternum, tapping him there harshly as your voice dropped an octave and your expression shifted to seriousness, “I do men, not boys. Come back when you decide to act like one.” And fuck, that did things to Adam, things he would never be able to admit to, not fully at least. Because you were acting like hot shit and for the first time he wasn't annoyed by it. Because you were hot shit, fuck probably the hottest shit he had ever laid eyes onto. “Now move your pretty ass out of my dressing room, babes,” you gave the first man one last sweet smile, your finger traced along his jaw and he leaned into every bit of touch he got from you. His eyes were clouded and for the first time in very fucking long it wasn't just lust that fogged up his mind, but interest and maybe even love.

[tomssexdoll]

omg i just thought of this and I think you’ll be so great at writing down exactly what i’m imagining!! 🤍🤍okok the reader is a part of the band and they went to an award show and the readers “enemy/rival” is there and calls out the reader and they start arguing back and forth ( basically the play scene in euphoria with maddy and cassie ) and tom got HELLA turned on by it 😏😏 if ykyk 🙌

STOPP THIS IS SUCH A GOOD IDEA TY FOR THE REQUEST ILY

Rockstar

PAIRINGS: Tom 2008 x Female reader CONTENT: ANGST (not with tom) + SMUT SYPNOSIS: Y/N and her band Tokio Hotel go to an award show where they win an award, later on in the night when the rival band gets sent up for an award they start causing shit for no reason, calling out Tokio hotel, Y/N gets PISSED and storms to the stage, arguing with them and nearly getting into a fight. A/N: cumming to this photo WARNINGS: dom!tom, sub!reader, p in v (missionary), (none of these next ones are with tom) yelling, hair pulling, screaming, slurs

Me and my band Tokio Hotel were nominated for an award and invited to this beautiful stadium with TONES of other celebrities and musicians, I was nervous because I had never been in a room with this many people, can you even call it a room?

As we were in the limo hired for us I bobbed my leg up and down nervously, Tom noticing and placing his hand on my thigh to stop it. Tom is my boyfriend and we've been dating for a year.

"Liebe don't be nervous, you'll be ok" he leaned over and kissed the top of my head, easing my worries. I smiled and placed my head on his shoulder, doing deep breathing for the rest of the ride.

We finally arrived, I was wearing a caual dress since it wasn't really a formal event and the band wore what they usually wore. We stepped inside and found our seats, waiting for the show to start. The host came on stage and started a speech, thanking everyone for attending and announcing all the awards that were going to be given.

We were nominated for only one out of the 6 awards. Competing against our rival band who were nominated for 2 awards, one really crappy one and the one we were nominated for.

I rolled my eyes and turned to Bill, "look who is here, if we lose against them I'm literally gonna tear this whole place down, they basically copy our music" he chuckled and squeezed my hand "cross your fingers and toes!" I giggled and held his hand.

As our award came, I held tightly onto Bills hand.

"And the winner for best music video...is....TOKIO HOTEL!" the host screamed, I gasped and turned to Bill, he was smiling so brightly and I got up, trying my best not to run up to the stage. I smiled like an idiot, walking up to the stage and shaking the hosts hand like the rest of the band. Bill made a quick speech, thanking everyone for all the support, he handed the mic to me and I sighed nervously "hello everyone" I smiled "this is my first award show that has ever been THIS big, I want to thank everyone who has supported us, this means every single country in the world who has bought our albums, bought merch, came to our concerts and etc. I love you all and thankyou so much!" I squealed, holding the award up with Bill.

Tom smiled at my excitement, wrapping his arm around my waist as we left the stage. I saw the rival band and smirked, winking at them, they rolled their eyes and scoffed, mumbling to each other. "Someones mad they didn't win" I said a little too loudly for them to hear on purpose.

We sat back down and it was time for the other award the rival band was nominated for, it was basically useless, not as good as ANY of the other awards that had been announced and were going to be announced. The host called our their name and they went onto stage, accepting the award gracefully.

They started to make a speech when I heard my name, I looked up from my phone and listened as he started to talk shit about the band, especially me. I scoffed, not reacting to their shitty attemps to belittle us and especially me, calling me a slut. But it was when they mentioned Bill, "and Bill, the hedgehog looking guy who we all know is secretly a f*g, I mean look at him, makeup, nails and sissy clothes?" he laughed, no one else reciprocating. I stood up and yelled, "who the fuck do you think you're talking about?" they all looked at me and smirked, Tom pulling my arm to sit me down "y/n cmon..they are just trying to get a rise out of you" I pulled my arm away "shut up Tom, I'm not dealing with them talking about Bill like that."

I stormed onto stage and starting screaming at them, "you can belittle me ALL you want but what I will not stand for is you calling my best friend homophobic slurs and making fun of his style, you are a fucking coward" I got closer to the lead singer. "Shut up you stupid bitch, this is why you're with a man who sleeps with every girl he fucking sees, no self respect at all" he snapped at me, basically growling like a fucking dog.

"Oh you are PATHETIC, you have to say it to a whole audience, you can't even say it to his face? You're a pussy!" I spat in his face. Tom watched from afar, seeing you argue turned him on so much, a tent forming in his pants, lowering in his seat and watching you with a grin on his face.

"Why don't we call Bill onto stage and you can say it to his face? Huh?" I grabbed his collar, pulling him closer, he rolled his eyes and scoffed. "Exactly, see you can't even do it because you're a pussy!" I laughed, mocking him in front of everyone. Everyone starting chuckling, in the corner of my eye I saw security laugh too.

"You're such a whore! Wearing such a slutty dress for an event, can't even dress nice?" one of the members added, getting in my face. I laughed at her and pushed her away "don't get near my face you stinky bitch, brush your teeth before you try and insult me" she rolled her eyes.

"You are all pathetic, seriously, you basically copy our music and claim you're the better version. In what universe are you better? You have shit vocals, shit bass and shit drums, the only good thing is the guitar which again, is stolen from us" I crossed my arms "see I knew you guys were all losers with no self respect but I didn't know you were THAT low, hatecriming my best friend at an award show? You couldn't even do it online?" I scoffed.

"We're just real, we say it how it is anywhere we go" one of them shrugged, I laughed "real? honey everything about you is fake, your tits, your ass, your lips, even your personality, nothing about you is real" she went as red as a tomato and I kept on laughing, they all had such pathetic attempts to put me down and the band.

"Whatever, go back to your fag boy and womanizer boyfriend" the lead singer rolled his eyes, turning around, rage built up in me again and I grabbed him by the hair, pulling him down. That's when security got involved, grabbing me and escorting me back to my seat.

I sighed and sat back down, many people looking at me. Tom nudged me and motioned to his pants, the tent growing larger. I chuckled "you really got turned on by me arguing with them" he nodded and leaned in "when we get back to the hotel I'm gonna fuck you so hard" I smirked and held his hand.

As we returned to the hotel room Tom basically dragged me to his room, slamming the door and locking out poor Bill. He threw me onto the bed and smashed his lips into mine, roughly tugging at my clothes, growing impatient.

He finally got my dress off, pulling it off my body and admiring me. "Fuck you're gorgeous, you arguing with them like that made me so fucking hard.." he grabbed my hand, placing it over his clothed erection. I smirked and tugged at his pants, removing his belt and his pants instantly dropping (cause they r so damn baggy), he took his shirt off to reveal his sweaty, toned body. I bit my lip and the burning in my heat grew more apparent.

He caught my lips in a kiss again, pulling my panties down and his boxers shortly after. Revealing his hard, sensitive cock, throbbing and leaking precum. "Fuck I've been painfully waiting to get back to the hotel, need you so bad" he groaned against my lips, placing his tip at my entrance.

He slowly pushed in, his cock stretching me out so deliciously, I moaned and my hands flew to his arms. "So tight..fuck" he groaned, rolling his head back.

As he bottomed out he pulled out briefly before slamming his cock back into me, creating a pace. I moaned loudly, rolling my eyes back as his tip pounded into my sweet spot, pleasuring me so well.

I could honestly scream from how good it felt but nothing left my mouth except for moans.

He held my hips tightly, digging his nails into them "fuckkk.." he moaned, slamming his hips into mine. The sound of skin slapping together filled the room, the air becoming thicker with the scent of sweat and sex.

"Holy shit!" I moaned, scratching at his back as he rammed into me repeatedly, making me scream out in pleasure as he started to thrust harder. I knew the rest of the band and probably the whole building was going to be able to hear us but I didn't care, all I needed was Tom.

Tom leaned down and left soft kisses on my neck and breasts, treating them with such care, like they were fragile.

He pulled back and slung my legs over his shoulder, thrusting back in harder, the newish angle making me cry out in pleasure, his cock continuing to abuse my hole.

"G'nna cum.." I moaned, a knot forming in my stomach and coiling down to my core. He moaned as my pussy clenched around his cock, signalling to him that my climax was close. I felt the tension in his cock, it was twitching and throbbing intensley.

"Fuck!" he cried out, shooting his load deep into me, coating my walls with his thick cum. He kept fucking me to ensure my orgasm, shortly after his orgasm I moaned loudly and came all over his cock.

He sighed and pulled out, both of our juices dripping out of me, he quickly grabbed some tissues and cleaned me up, careful not to overstimulate me. He climbed into the bed and pulled me close, covering us with the sheets.

He kissed my neck softly, whispering in my ear, "you are so hot when you're mad, especially when you're mad at me" he squeezed me, I giggled "well I guess you have to piss me off more then huh?" he chuckled and nuzzled his face into the back of my neck, falling asleep.

For the next few weeks all the media could talk about was my outburst at the awards show, so many people sided with me and gave us so much support, giving us a lot of new fans.

E/N: THIS WAS SO COOL, TY FOR THE REQUEST AND FOR THE LOVE <333

[ask-serendipity-sky]

10 Jikook Moments That Make Me Say "There is no way Jikook is not real"

You know how sometimes when you are watching some Jikook content you get the random thought that says "How in the world is this even real?!?" For reals. A lot of Jikook moments are just...magical. They are something else. Real "I am you, you are me" (I really like that phrase, can you tell?).

Some moments legit have no explanation other than it's 2 people who are in love and are together. Together? Forever. Forever?

So here is my list (In no particular order, except number 1 and 2. Those moments are just the top moments for me):

10. Jungkook melting

This particular scene left a huge impression on me. Jimin caresses Jungkook's face and Jk closes his eyes and let's the touch take him. Its romantic.

There is no way on Earth that 2 people can touch each other like this and not feel anything remotely similar to love. No way.

Sure, friends with benefits can do it, or just friends can do it, but to get to this point where your face is caressed and you MELT, that's undeniable love. Touch with love elicits this sort of response. And we don't only see this in this scene, there are tons of others where the same thing happens!

(Like in yesterday's Jikook hug. Jk melted into Jimin.)

9. Mma 2018

A classic, right?

Have you ever seen any 2 other idols do this? It's like they forgot the cameras and all the people existed and poor Hyunjae next to them raising his eyesbrows left and right lol The guy seemed traumatized lol

They let their romantic thoughts win. Jk couldn't get his eyes off of Jimin. He even wanted to help him sit lol The way he looked at him. Like he wanted to kiss every inch of his face. His eyes spilling love.

I've watched this so many times and I stare at my screen in disbelief everytime. But I get it. Sometimes the moment is then and Jungkook and Jimin lived it.

8. You are my Park Filter 🥰

We are only supposed to watch unedited content, right everyone? So if you want to watch the whole live, go to weverse. This is a nice summary lol

Every respected Jikooker needs to have watched this, in my opinion lol

Jk is being the best boyfriend he can be and comes running the moment Jimin calls. There is lots of hand holding, soft tones in their voices, and very boyfriendy vocabulary being exchanged according to k-army, smiles, laughs, an appearance by their best man Mr. Hobi.

I watch this and it's like omg, they are happy together. And it makes me feel all happy to 3rd wheel along lol

If that doesn't convince you, maybe Jimin's shy shy shy face will!!!

7. Finger heartu 💕

It's not the finger heart that makes me think Jikook is real...but Jimin's reaction. Like no Jungkook, we are supposed to be chill in this concert...

And then Nam in the back tying his shoelace, that is already tied, but serves as an anti anxiety technique when dealing with Jikook.

It caught Jimin by surprise, like all these grand gestures Jungkook likes to surprise him with.

6. Jikook in their wedding suits...just kidding. Jimin losing himself when looking at Jungkook

First of all, omg. They looked handsome that day. There was a lot of Jikookery going on in these awards.

And then I see this scene. I feel like it's rare when Jimin lets his guard down and allows us to see him melt like this over Jk. I think Jimin just forgot about the cameras. His sweet smile and soft gaze for Jungkook only got softer when Jk looked at him too.

Then reality hit and back to business casual.

My point is that you don't forget that all eyes are on you unless more important eyes are on you. So many people were watching, but to Jimin, the ones that are the most important are Jungkook's eyes. And the same can be said about Jungkook.

5. 2315 in PTD Seoul

2315.

But that's not all.

In that same concert, Jk also referenced the numbers:

BUT that is not all...

After that concert, Jk had a quick live on Instagram and he referenced the numbers in his own way:

0:56 seconds: "Finally, in Korea, in 2.5 years, feels like 23 years, we finally had a concert in Korea. We got to do it..."

23. I was trying to figure out what the 23 meant since he referenced it twice. And one twitter discussion said that the was referring to 2300 days. That made sense to me. Has anyone heard anything about this number?

But going back to the 2315....

So k-army did the math for us and found that 2315 from March 10, 2022 (PTD concert) is...

November 08, 2015, which many believe might be the start of Jikook or a date that seems to be very important to them.

There is just too much persistence from both Jk and Jimin to show us what 11/8 means to them. It's like the are silently screaming it for us to understand.

4. GCF Tokyo

If Jungkook still mentions it, then so do we!

Everything about this date captured on video is literally that...a date. The video doesn't even show Tokyo...just Jungkook's Jimin and he decided to share that with us. Not for fan service or because he was forced...but maybe because "I'll be loud for you, but you gotta be there for me too..."

Jk, the hopeless romantic, organized this whole trip and focused only on Jimin, another hopeless romantic.

Whenever I hear of people saying this video doesn't have romantic tones, I leaves me baffled.

After I played this video for my partner, before they knew anything about Jikook, they were like "So are these guys getting married?" Lol

The Jikooker anthem! Let's all watch it together and cry of happiness!

Boy, I'm holdin' onto something

Won't let go of you for nothing

I'm runnin', runnin' just to keep my hands on you

There was a time that I was so blue

What I got to do to show you?

I'm runnin', runnin' just to keep my hands on you

Runnin', runnin' just to keep my hands on you

Runnin', runnin' just to keep my hands on you

Said, I'm runnin', runnin' just to keep my hands on you

But you gotta be there for me too

3. Rose Bowl Ear Nomming

Friends don't do this. Friends just don't. No one does other than a significant other or someone who is interested in you romantically or sexually. Friends don't do this. I cant think of anything else to say lol just...Friends don't do this.

And then the aftermath photo doesn't lie either:

2. Euphoria

So I saw this observation in another blog but haven't seen anyone mention it. During this live, Jimin was playing everyone's song while doing Legos. He listened to Euphoria and afterwards, kept humming the melody and smiling. And after a while he says:

Why would listening to Jungkook sing remind him of being at home? It's not like Jk sings all day and night. It's not like Jimin has told us before that he listens to Jk sing about 8 hours per day...wait.

So yes, this moment is up there because Jimin's subconscious is telling us everything.

1. J-hope's Album Release Party

Ok, hear me out. In the bangtan bomb, we saw this for a total of 5 seconds max.

But this moment is LOUD. This right here should have been the end of any speculation. For reals, when I think about Jikook moments this is the biggest moment of them all. Why?

Well, because Jimin and Jk were just minding their own business in a little corner of the entire place. A little dark and cozy corner. From what we can see, their hands touching and being close enough. No one was around them. Just 2 people wanting to be close to each other.

And we've all seen this or lived this. At a party, when 2 people are hitting it off, they seclude themselves and people give them space and let be them be in their own bubble. Except that in this case, the camera caught them. Seriously, camera man? What was the reason!?!?!?

And we get Jk's face of "are you freakin kidding me?" Jimin getting shy and looking at Jk for reassurance. There wasn't supposed to be a camera or anyone around bothering. This was Jikook in their most natural state.

We also have to remember that this is during Jimin's time when he was living in the studio making FACE so Jikook wasn't spending as much time together. Jimin was taking a day off here and one thing led to another...and they are holding hands lol

And I love this moment because people don't get to say "you only have moment from 2018" "they are doing it for the cameras" "jikook jikooked when they were young but they got it out of their system" "so and so should have been there too so it wasn't a jikook thing" blah blah.

For me, this moment is it.

Watch the entire bangtan bomb and check out how Jk kept tabs on Jimin in the scenes where we see them together. And the same with Jm keeping tabs on Jk. Also, this photograph:

There is a better version of this photo but it's so edited that you can hardly see Jk.

Anyway, this is my number 1 because there is no way that this is not real.

Phew. It was hard picking...

I might need a part 2.

[s0ulsniper]

prompt 21) with spider-gwen please 🙏 🙏🙏 with a happy ending though because i cry easily if it's possible thank you <3

spider-gwen x gn!reader

DNI 18+

Gwen had been distant, only replying to texts about once a day, and not picking up any of your calls.

it was weird to say the least, because you two were very close before she just suddenly decided to stop liking you.

y/n : gwen, what's going on?

y/n : I'm about to stop trying gwen, you're ghosting me when I need you.

you shut your phone off and put it in your bag backstage.

she always told you she would come to your concerts but you never found her in the crowd.

you knew she had her own responsibilities, her band and being spider woman and all.

but instead of telling you she could be there, why couldn't she just say she was busy?

all you really asked was for one visit, so you could show your skill off.

a knock is heard on your door and you bandmate peeks in.

"were on in 5." he says.

you nod and pull your patched jacket over your tank top.

you took a second to adjust yourself in the mirror before you walk to stage, behind the closed curtain.

You're handed your guitar, while you help to attach it to your amp and pedals.

everyone is set up and gets ready for the first act.

But as soon as the curtain draws you see Gwen staring at you from the first row, where you always got her a seat.

you stumbled, but you played through the first act amazingly, but as soon as the curtain drew you rushed to your room backstage.

but there was no hiding, you heard a knock on the door.

"y/n? you there?" gwen calls.

you don't answer for a minute but then you reply.

"yeah, come in."

the door creaks open slowly to reveal a sheepish gwen.

"i uh- I know I've been acting weird but I wanted to kinda... explain myself."

you look at her from your mirror.

"in the middle of my concert?"

she sighs.

"I had no other time, I wanted to tell you as soon as possible."

"I think we're long past being on time, gwen."

she doesn't speak, just walks to kneel down beside you by your chair.

"just please listen." she begs, you not looking at her.

you give in, and look at her, she looked genuine.

"I just-... I think I might be in love with you, and I'm terrified." she admits.

your mouth falls open in confusion.

"you're in love with me?"

she nods, grabbing one of your hands in hers.

"I just don't want you to be in any danger. I couldn't imagine you getting hurt."

"trust me, you're never getting rid of me."

for the last few acts you play better than you ever had.

knowing you were with gwen and everything's solved put you at ease.

TAGS 🏷️:

[rintarousgirl]

i wanna be yours -- 1. why'd you only ever call me when you're high?

✦ - Y/N is a small business owner, offering her services not only as a designer but an at-home makeup artist and cosmetic producer as well. She's perfectly content with her small life when she's approached by the manager of the INARIZAKI band, asking for her to fill the position of backstage artist on short notice. Needing the money, and wanting the experience, Y/N agrees. Little does she know of the fatal attraction she will share with the band's lead, Suna Rintarou.

»»————-　★　————-««

The smell of caramel and cocoa hung in the air of the small coffee shop as you worked silently. Your laptop sat on the table in front of you while you sewed a small rip in one of your client's commissions. You weren't the biggest seamstress, but you did it pretty well by hand and it went by a lot quicker and smoother for you then doing it with a machine.

You loved coming to the coffee shop to get your work done. The smell of roast and warm pastries soothed you, and the large, iced coffee you always ordered remained one of your favorite drinks. No other place was able to make it the way you liked it like this place did.

Putting down your commission, you took a sip of your coffee, relishing in its taste. You breathed out a sigh and wiped your lipgloss off the straw. You were about to scroll through a few unanswered emails when a man slides into the other half of the booth you occupied.

Blinking, you took in the sight of him, and your eyes met hazel ones. "Um, hello," you said, feeling a spark of uncomfort grow in you. The man gave a small smile, holding a drink of his own.

"Hello. I'm hoping you're Ms. Y/N?"

You ran the possibilities through your mind. He could be a sales marketer, or a fan. Though, it was weird to run into a fan of your rather small business in your rather small town in an even smaller coffee shop. Unnerved, you gave a nod.

"Good, that makes things a lot easier. I don't want to scare you, but I have been looking into your business as an artist and designer. I'm Kita Shinsuke, and I have a job proposition for you."

Swallowing around a lump in your throat, you said, "Go ahead."

He takes a small sip of his drink, before clearing his throat. "I'm sure you've heard of the band INARIZAKI?"

You snorted. "Who hasn't?" you asked jokingly. The band was popular, known for its amazing talent and "hot" members. You hadn't heard much of their music, but they sounded good enough on the radio when you drove. You knew Kuroo was a bit of a fan, but that's all the exposure you had.

Running a small business, you don't have a lot of time to engage in things you may like. You were constantly running yourself ragged trying to ship out the right number of orders with perfect quality to your clients. You couldn't even count how many nights you'd stayed up till the birds began to chirp trying to package and create things. You may have overestimated your abilities to sell your own makeup, clothes, and other cute things along with being an at-home makeup artist. But you wouldn't stop for the world.

Kita agreed with a small chuckle. "Well, I am their manager. Due to unfortunate circumstances our current makeup artist and outfit coordinator left our team. Obviously, we wouldn't want any big faces on our team as we'd like to keep it small for the privacy of our band members. You were recommended to me through a friend, and I was told how to approach you."

You tried to think of your recent clients, and their backgrounds. Off the top of your head, none of them seemed famous enough to know the manager of the INARIZAKI band. Unless it were Bokuto or Kenma, but you're pretty sure they wouldn't talk with them either.

You had to admit, he was piquing your interest.

"So, Ms. Y/N. It isn't anything set in stone yet, but could we arrange something? I'm aware this is very short notice, but we have a small concert three nights from now and I'm afraid I am not well-versed enough to do it myself. Try it out, see if you'd like the gig, and we'll see how it goes.

"It is very sudden," you say, thinking back to all the projects you had at home. But you didn't have any makeup gigs as of recent, just small shipping's and your own personal life. You could do it, probably. "Let me check my calendar."

Kita nodded. "Of course."

You ignored your emails once more, and clicked on your calendar tab. You were right. Any bookings weren't for another week at the least, and most of your current commissions were small things like scarves or sweaters. Well, you had those specialized kneepads to work on for Bokuto's birthday two weeks from now, but you had some free time.

"I could do that, yeah," you say, smiling at him. Kita seemed nice and pretty harmless, and you had heard the name before. You trusted him, even if it was stupid to say.

Kita's small smile grows into something a little hopeful. "Wonderful. I've already emailed you before this, but I hadn't gotten a response. So, you have my contact information. May I have your email?"

You nod, writing it down on a pad of paper for him. He pockets it. "I'm going to set up something with the band as a meeting before the concert. Most likely a dinner tomorrow night, does that sound good?"

"Just send me the details!" you beam, giving him a thumbs up.

He gets up to leave, but you grab onto his sleeve. He turns, cup in hand. "Thank you for giving me this opportunity, really. I'm very excited."

Kita looks down to his shoes for a second, as if in thought, then his hazel eyes snap back up to you. "I should be the one thanking you for accepting so suddenly. You're really saving my job, Y/N."

"I wouldn't say so. You do a lot for the band as manager. If you didn't, you wouldn't have found me."

"I suppose you're right."

Kita leaves after that, and you turn to face the coffee table. Shock begins to register within your body. Did that really just happen? Your fingers shake, and you know you won't be able to get any sewing done for a while.

This was the opportunity of a lifetime. Kita said he'd emailed you before. What if he hadn't been so determined as to hunt you down? Would you have missed this just because you slacked off on checking your emails?

God.

You take out your phone, and open twitter. Talking about your issues on social media always got a laugh out of your friends.

༻✦༺

༻✦༺ next -> | masterlist

fun fact(s)!:

y/n and akaashi were the first friends out of the group, dating all the way back to high school. akaashi's overprotective of her like a brother, and they hang out the most. akaashi introduced her to bokuto at vb when she became the manager for his team and then to kuroo and kenma.

kita regularly goes to the same coffee shop y/n was at with aran. he just happened to run into her there picking up coffees for the two of them.

taglist:

@alienvarmint | @sunarots | @mannaornot | @gojoscumslut | @wolffmaiden | @fleoresies | @tkooooop | @cheriesdear | @shotenvinsoot

»»————-　★　————-««

[albino-notes]

Do you have any socials cause I would really like to be friends 😭😭

anon!!!! i would love to be friends with you, and i was going to send you my twitter username, but unfortunately joostwt has discovered my tantu fic and is NOT happy about it 🙃 hey, i should be grateful for the free shout-out, right? even though they could've left a like, considering they already went out of their way to screenshot it and post it on their twitter account...

so, i've made the decision to stay anonymous on here! but, if you have a tumblr account, please feel free to message me whenever! <3

and because this has honestly officially ruined my already terrible day, i feel the need to go on a little rant (read under the cut):

i will never understand why people shit so much on fanfic writers. it is a legitimate form of creative writing, and most writers on here are already employing all measures to make sure people who are uncomfortable with this kind of content don't have to come in contact with it. also, do you guys seriously think joost or any of the people in his inner circle have secret tumblr blogs and use them to lurk these tags??? don't you think these people have better things to do with their time? tumblr, for as long as i can remember (and i've literally been on here with my main blog since 2013) has been a niche social media. it's not comparable with instagram, tiktok and twitter. artists don't use tumblr to advertise their stuff. artists may come on here to search for artwork, but honestly... artwork is shared (at least imo) on these other social medias way more, and i doubt artists would go out of their way to create a tumblr blog just to look at art work when it's also available elsewhere. EDIT: joost was apparently on here. still, i sincerely doubt he would willingly read fanfics about himself. like bffr...

coming back to the point of fanfics as a form of creative writing: these fanfics are all just figments of my silly little imagination!!! i am not fantasizing about anything that i'm writing. i could've written any of these fics with other musicians or all OC's altogether! my fanfics (and most of the fics i've read on here) use such little personal descriptors apart from names, songs and places. all stuff that is publicly available, too. i am not rubbing these fics in their faces. if anything, the people screenshotting these fics and taking them outside of tumblr are INCREASING the chance that joost and his crew will see these fics.

to the people saying that fanfiction writers should touch grass: am i the one with an entire public twitter account dedicated to joost entirely, bombarding his socials with weird and borderline creepy comments and flooding his dms hoping that he will notice you? no, i am a grown ass adult en-route to a college degree, and they will probably even graduate on top of their class. i have money, i have friends, i have lots of passions and hobbies! i am actually living a very fulfilling life! writing fanfics is not an indicator for an unfulfilling life! i've actually been writing for a plethora of fandoms since i was a pre-teen, and i've always done it to deal with whatever hyperfixation i had at that moment. as a person with BPD, this can be really therapeutic in dealing with intense emotions. but i'm not only writing fanfics. i want to write my own novel one day.

to be completely honest with you, i wouldn't even actually consider myself a joost fan. i obviously like his music and can connect with his stage persona, but i don't own any merch, i have no intentions of going to a joost concert and i probably wouldn't even try to interact with any of these ppl on the off chance that i'll ever run into him or his crew in real life. this tumblr blog is just the manifestation of a hyperfixation that will most likely die down in a few months. i'm not even following or interacting with them on social media. they will never know who i am and neither will i ever know more about them than what's publicly available. someone under that tweet said that it was disrespectful to write something like that when tantu has a girlfriend - a fact i didn't know, by the way. because despite me consuming and producing fanfictions about him, i am not spending all my time stalking him.

rest assured that if tantu, joost or any of the people mentioned in my fics ever said that they feel comfortable with the way i'm using their public image (because it's just that!!!! you don't know any of these people really!!!! i urge you to look up what a parasocial relationship is!!!!), i will delete this entire blog in a matter of seconds and i will leave no trace. you, however, the people screenshotting fics to talk shit about them, just made sure that the same fics you absolutely despise will never truly leave the internet.

if you've made it this far, i wanna take the time to thank everyone for giving me this beautiful outlet to let out my emotions and creativity! i truly appreciate everyone who takes the time to read, comment and like my fanfics! to the people who have a problem with fanfics, i urge you to reflect on your on behavior and online presence. i promise you, fanfic writers are not the problem. either way, going forward, i will refrain on using the joost klein tag altogether, using only fanfic-specific tags to decrease the chance of getting noticed by people who don't want anything to do with this corner of the internet.

y'all, i'm fucking tired. this has put quite a damper on my motivation to write, but i think i will be fine! please understand that it may take longer for me to finish the planned fics now. if it's any consolation, i've already started with one of the fics and will finish that one as soon as i'm done with finals!

thank you for everything. until then, take care <3

[justmeinadaze]

I Have Nothing (If I Don't Have You) Part 2 (Steddie X You)

Warnings with some notes: Soft Dom Steddie and Singer Reader, Smut and angst, reader has flashbacks of her fight with Simon from the last chapter (Domestic violence trigger!), her need to numb with alcohol and drugs is touched on briefly, Eddie alludes to his past with his dad.

This chapter does deal with some darker themes of Y/N feeling like she's nothing because toxic people have made her believe that. Please never forget that you matter and your feelings ARE valid <3.

Word Count: 4305

Your eyes snapped open to darkness as the images from your nightmare were slowly beginning to fade away. Nightmares weren’t new for you but this one involving Simon trying to hurt you was. It took you moment as you sat up to catch your breath to remember you weren’t alone in your guest bedroom tonight. 

Ever the gentlemen, even though you asked them to sleep in bed with you, both men had fallen asleep as close to the edge that they could and on top of your covers. Eddie was facing you, his arms folded against his chest as he slept. Steve’s chest gently rose and fell as his head remained angled towards the bedroom door. 

Without jostling the bed too much, you crawled out from under your blanket and headed for the kitchen to grab a glass of water. You stared at the whiskey bottle on the counter, frozen in place as the night’s events played through your mind. 

Simon was already irritable when you came back from having lunch with the guys but after telling him where you were he had gotten extremely jealous. 

“They are security, not your fucking friends. Why are you having lunch with them?!”

“Oh, I don’t know. Maybe cause they earned it. They did protect your girlfriend from a mob last night.”

“A mob? Seriously? You’re so fucking dramatic.”

“You wouldn’t know because you weren’t fucking there even though you said you would be!”

“Are you fucking them?”

“I’m not even going to entertain that with an answer.”, you scoff.

Simon’s arm shoots out, gripping your biceps tightly as you whine in pain. “You will fucking entertain it. Tell me now or I swear to God, Y/N…”

“Let. Me. Go.”

“Answer me.”

“Yes, Simon. Oh my god. You caught me.”, you respond sarcastically as you widen your eyes in jest. “I just met them last week and I swear…I couldn’t get them inside me fast enough. Even though I’ve been planning an album, tour, and singing at the concert I had, I still had enough time to just blow their minds. It only takes 2 minutes, right, baby? ‘In and out’ At least that’s how I refer to our sex life.”

His palm collided with your cheek hard, knocking your back into the adjacent wall.

“I have never once heard you or any other fucking woman complain. You think you’re so smart and perfect. Let me tell you, sweetie, you’re not. You’re just like every other fucking small-town whore who comes to the city to become ‘something’. There is absolutely nothing special about you, babe, and deep down you know that. That’s why you ply yourself with drugs and fucking liters of vodka. You. Are. Nothing.”

A tear escapes down your eye and you scold yourself internally for letting him see how much his words were hurting you. Abruptly, you lift you knee, hitting his stomach, and running to your bedroom as he howls in pain.

“Sweetheart?”

“Jesus!” You jump as the glass in your hand falls to the ground.

“Hey. Sorry! Sorry! I didn’t mean to startle you. Are you alright?”, Eddie asked, hands held up in surrender as he slowly moves towards you.

“Yeah, I…shit. I didn’t hear you come in.” As you start to step forward, his hand reaches out to lightly grab your forearm. 

“No. Don’t move. You aren’t wearing any shoes or slippers. Let me clean this up for you.”

You couldn’t help but softly giggle as he bent down to get the big pieces of glass with his hands. “Neither are you.”

“True but my feet aren’t as pretty as yours. I mean with the…”, he gestures towards your pedicured toes. 

“Are you…security guarding my feet, Mr. Munson?”

A small smirk slides across his face as he rises and throws the pieces into the trash before reaching into a nearby closet to grab a broom.

“You could say that. They are a part of you and I’m supposed to protect you so… plus I like the pastel purple color thing you got going on there.”

“It’s my favorite color. Usually my nails have to match the outfit but depending on my shoes I can have that be any color really so I always choose purple.” Eddie’s grin grows as he nods his head, finishing his task and putting everything away. “Thank you…again…for tonight.”

“Of course. Probably a silly question but how are you feeling?”

“I’m fine.”, you lie. 

He nods again, his fingers tracing your arm where Simon had grabbed you. You tried not to flinch but it hurt too much. The metalhead opens your freezer and takes the first frozen, bagged item he sees before waving you to follow him as he heads for your couch. 

Carefully, he places the cold object on your bruises making you wince. 

“Growing up, when I had bruises like these, my mom would put peas or steak on my wound and tell me that it had healing powers. For a while I believed her because the next day the cuts and bruises didn’t hurt as bad.”

“Were you just a rough and tumble kid? Why did you get hurt so much?”

“My father would probably tell you it’s because I deserved it.” His beautiful brown eyes met yours, telling a story that he couldn’t just yet. 

“Oh…”

“Is everyone ok?” Steve sleepily sauntered into the living room and tossed himself onto one of your comfy chairs. 

“Took you long enough, Stevie. She’s been up for…”, Eddie glances at his watch. “…15 minutes. Give or take.” He chuckles at your shocked expression. “You were mumbling in your sleep and then kind of groaned when you woke up. That fully woke me up. I thought you were getting something to drink and then coming back. When you didn’t, I went searching till I found you staring into the void of the kitchen counter.”

“Yeah. I kind of got lost in thought for a moment.”

“Can we ask what you were thinking about?”

You turned towards the other boy, unsure if you should be honest. 

“I was going over the fight Simon and I had.”

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“Not really. I’d rather talk about you guys.”

“I have an idea. Why don’t we make some breakfast, get some coffee, and then you can ask us anything you want to.”

“Ok. I don’t have many foods in here but…” Your eyes follow Steve as he stands up and heads for your kitchen. 

“Hm. I see eggs and bacon.” He starts pulling ingredients out and placing them on the counter, pausing to look at you. “Are you going to come help me or not?”

You giggle as you head his way, not noticing when Eddie smiles after you before getting up himself and disappearing down the hallway. 

“I have zero idea how to cook anything.”

“Well, thankfully, eggs are one of the easiest things to make.” Your eyes focus as you watch him work, listening to every tip he gives you. “Here, take this and I’m going to start the coffee.”

Panicking internally, you take the spatula from his hand, coping everything you had seen him do. After a couple of minutes, you felt his palm tenderly press against your lower back. 

“There you go. Pfft Miss I have no idea how to cook.” Steve grins down at you as your eyes light up at his compliment, proud that you were able to do something with the added bonus of making him happy. “Alright, let me plate this here. Ed! Food!”

Your eyes swing around the room, not realizing he had left it at all. 

“I’m comin’! Geez. I cleaned up the mess on your bedroom floor, Y/N. Later today, we’ll see about getting your door hooked back up, okay?”

“I…thank you. I could have helped you.”

Eddie takes a seat at your table as you plop down beside him and begin digging into your food. Steve brings you a cup filled to the brim with caffeine and sits across from his friend. 

“It’s no problem. He did more damage to the door and you…” You glance down at your plate as you take another small bite. Ringed fingers slide into your peripherals and tap your hand. “What did you want to ask us?”

“Are you from California?”

“Indiana actually.”, Steve answers. “Small town hidden away.”

“You said you were good at protecting people. Did you do that in Indiana?”

“At the bar in town, yeah. I used to play there with my band and on the weekends it would get a bit…rough. Steve saved my ass when some big, muscle-bound guy tried to punch me because he thought I was flirting with his girlfriend while we were playing.”

“He was but that’s beside the point.”, the other boy jokingly whispers making you laugh. 

“We also had some kids we grew up with that were bullied a lot so we protected them.”, Eddie smiled. “About two years ago, Harrington suggested we move out here to get more clients and make more money. For a while we were with this indie band but then they broke up.”

“Oof. I don’t have a band so no worries about that here. So, what’s your end goal? Do you want your own security company or…?”

“I mean technically we do have our own security company. Eddie and I are freelance so we don’t answer to anyone.” You nod your head at his answer as you take a sip from your cup. “What about you? Where are you from?”

“Haven’t goggled me yet, I see.”

“No fun in that especially when I’m sure whatever we would read would have some glaring plot holes.”

“True. I’m from a city down south. Definitely not a small town up bringing but very much a hardheaded one. My family always wanted me to be ‘something’ like a doctor or a teacher. I knew that wasn’t for me.”

“They don’t like that you sing?”

“My parents don’t get it. They see ‘real music’ as something like Johnny Cash or Dolly Parton. Since I’m not on that level I haven’t officially made it to them. I’m just fucking around on stage with a microphone.”, you roll your eyes. 

“I know Johnny Cash. I don’t think I’ve ever listened to Dolly Parton.” Your jaw drops open as you stare at Steve. 

“He’s a bit sheltered, sweetheart.”, Eddie teases. 

Quickly getting to your feet, you run to the bedroom to grab your phone, scrolling through it as you sit back down. “9 to 5” by Dolly Parton begins to play through the little speaker as you hold It out towards him. 

“On Saturday mornings, I remember waking up to my mom blaring this song with the windows open as she cleaned. The sun always seemed to shine through the windows perfectly and she seemed so happy. We would sing together while I helped her.” You smiled as your got lost in the memory. 

“I like it.”, Steve grinned as he bobbed his head. The music cut off as a phone call came through and you sighed, recognizing the ID. “Who is it this early?”

“Simon. He’s calling from the police station for me to bail him out.”

“Is that something you normally do?”, Eddie asked, huffing under his breath when you nod your head. “Y/N, he’s never going to stop taking advantage of you if you keep letting him and bailing him out.”

Anger suddenly flooded your expression as you turned on him. “Look, you don’t get it. I’m really sick and fucking tired of you two constantly pointing out how ‘weak’ I am by letting people ‘take advantage’ of me!”

“Did we say she was weak?” The metalhead turned towards his friend who promptly shook his head in response. 

“She’s definitely not weak. Scared maybe.”

“Pfft, please! What do I have to be scared of?!”

“Being alone, I imagine. Going back to being that southern little girl who was nothing.”, Steve shrugs as he leans back in his chair.

“I’m not nothing! Why do people keep saying that!?” You rise from your chair and stomp towards the kitchen, reaching for the bottle of vodka, popping the top, and chugging some of it back. 

You yelp as the bottle is yanked from your grasp and you watch as Eddie pours the liquid down the drain. “We didn’t say you were nothing. He’s saying YOU feel that way. Why is that, Y/N? Does Simon keep telling you that? Because if anyone here is nothing it’s that asshole.”

“You are not my father. You can’t just throw out my stuff like that!”

“Stop acting like a child and we’ll stop treating you like one.”

In defiance, you reach in your cabinet to grab another bottle of the hard liquor but Steve blind sides you as he comes up from behind and takes it from your hands. You stomp your feet as Eddie pours its contents down the sink as well. 

As you bend down to grab another, he blocks the area with his body.

“Move, Steve.”

He matches your glare with one of his one. “Make me. Hell, I’ll even make you deal. If you can move me, you can have what’s inside and we won’t stop you.”

Growling, you try and shove at his body with your small frame but it’s no use, he’s too strong.

“Stop it, Steve! Move!”

“Oh, come on, little girl. You’re giving up that easy?” 

You continue to throw a tantrum as you fold your arms over your chest. For moment you pause as you become slightly aware that you are being more of a brat than normal. Is it because they were pushing you? As your eyes shifted between theirs you noticed that dominate air return that you had only seen in them. 

They see it to within your demeanor as you partially descended into the headspace. They knew this was a professional boundary they shouldn’t cross but it was hard to be levelheaded when your big, beautiful eyes continued to penetrate theirs with need. A need to be protected and feel loved; to feel safe.

“You don’t need alcohol to make you feel better, honey.”

“Yeah? And what do I need, Steve?”

He took one confident step forward, backing you into the island behind you. “Personally, I think you need to be reminded how important you are and how much you matter. You need to be shown how fucking gorgeous you are and deserve to be treated right.”

Eddie’s lower belly grazed your hand as he came to your side. “You deserve to be up on a pedestal, Y/N.” Your eyes flutter shut as his lips graze the shell of your ear. “That way we can pull you off of it and make you cum till you’re begging us to stop.”

Your fingers tangle in the fabric of his shirt as you pull his lips to yours. Fuck he tastes so good…

You’re both panting once you’re finally able to pull away. 

“Th-this is…we shouldn’t be doing this.”, you whisper.

“No, we shouldn’t.” Steve’s palms grip your thighs as he lifts you onto the counter, kissing you passionately as you cling to his neck. 

You growl as your phone rings again but pause when their phones ping from different places in the house. Taking your device from Eddie’s grasp, you thank him as he hands it over to you. Resting your forehead against the man’s chest, you whine as you answer. 

“Hello Sarah.”

“You need to come down here now. We need to talk about the incident last night.”

“Can we do it tomorrow?”

“No, we can’t do it tomorrow! The morning news is already talking about this and we need to get ahead of it as much as possible. Get over here now, please.”, she commanded before disconnecting. 

“Hm. Well that would be my publicist, Sarah. I should go shower.” You flash them a soft smile as you slide down from the counter. “I’m sure you noticed but I have a shower in the guest room if you guys want to freshen up or anything.”

“Yeah, looks like your agent wants us there to.”, Eddie sighs as he shows Steve the text. 

“Our morning just got very exciting, gentlemen.”

###########

“Ok, let me ask this out right because depending on how you answer is where we go from here. Are you going to bail him out?”

Your eyes shifted towards the boys as they leaned against the wall to the side of you. You did every single time something happened with Simon. No matter what it was, you were always there to bail him out but after what happened and what the guys told you about deserving better…

“Um, no. Not this time.”

Sarah makes an amused face as she nods her head. “Good for you, Y/N. Fuck him. Are you considering that your way of dumping his ass?”

“I, um, yes. I think so… I’m sorry. Its just last night was a lot and I haven’t even really had time to process it.”

“I understand, Y/N. Now I have to ask just so I can be prepared for anything he might say… What exactly happened?”

“I came home and he was angry--”

“About what?”

Her question quickly followed your statement throwing you off guard. “Um, I had lunch with some…some friends and he got jealous.” You didn’t need to look their way again to know their eyes were penetrating your body. “He thought I was cheating on him.”

“Insecure fucker always thinks that with you. Ok, and then what?”

“I told him to fuck off and he hit me.”

“And then you called these two?” 

Eddie clears his throat when you nod. “She said she needed help so we sped down there and handled the situation.”

“Ok. Ok, ok, ok.”, Sarah exhales as she leans against her desk. “I’m going to write a formal statement and give it to the press. Something along the lines of you’re safe and will no longer tolerate this kind of behavior. You…pray for him to heal and wish him all the best?”

“Yeah, sure, whatever. “, you sigh as you nonchalantly wave your hand. “I feel like we could have done this over the phone.”

“We could have but we didn’t.”

***

“You didn’t say the fight you two had was about us.”

“You’re right, Mr. Harrington. I didn’t.” He and Eddie exchanged a look as the metalhead continued to drive back towards your house. “To be fair…he thinks I’m fucking everybody so…”

“Are you?”

“Excuse me?”, you ask angrily.

“We wouldn’t blame you, sweetheart. You put on that little display for us when you and Simon were fucking before you snuck out to the bar. You were in there for a while and I don’t think we heard you cum once.”

“Like men can tell when a woman climaxes.”

“We can…but that could just be because our girls are always screaming our names and begging for more.”, Steve chuckles as Eddie grins.

“Oh my god. So fucking cocky. Simon has made me cum.”

As they hit a hit a red light, Steve quickly gets out and switches to the backseat so he can be beside you. 

“He has? I don’t believe it.”

Your breath catches in your throat as he throws his arm behind your head against the seat, allowing his body to scoot closer to yours. 

“I mean… believe whatever you want…”

His fingers behind your head play with your hair as he moves it away from your face, his other palm coming to graze your thigh. 

“You seem like the kinda girl that makes a lot of noise when you cum.”

“Especially with a beautiful voice like hers.”, Eddie adds. 

Your eyes flutter closed as his nose glides along your cheek, the hand on your thigh gradually moving up your pant covered leg. You desperately wanted him to touch you more but refused to ask or even beg for it. Instead, you chose to ground yourself, placing your own hand on his knee as you clung to the fabric of his shorts. 

Steve’s lips delicately traced along your neck as his palm finally found its way between your legs. “Your so warm already. I wonder how wet you are. Can I find out?” Licking your lips, you aggressively nod your head. “Say it, honey. Use your words.”, he whispers in your ear. 

“You…you can touch me.”

His head tilts as he looks down at your body, moving your shirt to the side a bit so he can slide his massive hand under the waistband of your leggings and panties. 

“Fuck me, Y/N. You are just dripping.”

You moan as his fingers glide through your sex as he plays with your pussy, your hand on his knee rising higher. 

“Do you want to touch my cock, baby? You can.”, Steve murmurs against your skin, groaning when he feels your cunt flutter against the pads of digits. 

He shuffles closer to you as you lift your leg and place it over his own allowing him more access as one of his fingers breaches your entrance. His lips find yours, humming against them as your palm rubs his groin. 

“Jesus… Ed, she’s…she’s so fucking tight.” As he turns to talk to his friend, your mouth places feathery light kisses along his jawline to his neck. Your hooded eyes open when you feel his throat vibrate against you as he laughs. “You ok, man?”

“Yeah…f-fuck… we’re-we’re almost at her house. I need jerk off so fucking bad. Her moans are so fucking sexy.”

“You’re—mmm—you’re not gonna fuck me?”

Steve turns his attention back to you, his eyes meeting yours as he slips a second finger into your sex.

“No, pretty girl. Not today.”

Eddie parks the car in your shaded driveway, hastily unbuckling his seatbelt before turning around to face you both. You watched him with lust driven eyes as he unbuttoned his pants before licking his hand and stroking his length. 

“You…you don’t want me?” You barely even recognize the voice that just left you, sounding like a little girl who was denied dessert. What was it about these men that had you behaving that way?

A heavy sigh escaped Steve at the sound and you felt his cock twitch against your hand as you made a mental note of his reaction.

“We do, honey. Fuck do we ever… you just went through a lot last night. Your body and mind need to rest.”

As his fingers thrust faster into you, your hand tries to match his pace. “Can…can I?”

He nods, lifting his hips as you pull his shorts down just enough to free his dick from its confinement. Leaning over his lap, you spit onto his tip, and he mewls as your tiny hand wraps around him. Steve curls his fingers inside of you as his elbow locks, straightening out his arm.

“Fuck, Steve. Please.”

“Steve…tell me more—mmm—about how she feels.”

The man tried to focus to do what his friend asked but it was hard with your hand alone bringing him close to the edge. 

“Fuck, Eddie…so fucking tight. Her pussy is just gripping my fingers, man…feels…feels so good. I don’t know…how—fuck, baby. Faster—I don’t know how our…our cocks are going to fit.”

His filthy words shot straight to your core, clenching around Steve’s fingers as you came. Your free hand flew down to grab his wrist, trying to get him to stop as he continued to pump his digits inside of you. When your head collapsed on his shoulder, he held you tighter to him as his spend shot out and on his thigh.

Eddie panted as he soon followed after, throwing his head back as he cursed under his breath. 

Steve carefully slid his hand out of your pants, bringing his fingers to his mouth as he tasted you. 

“You taste so sweet, Y/N. Are you ok?”

You lazily nod your head as you tug yourself closer to his chest. This was new for you. Usually after anything sexual, you wanted to be left alone. Even with Simon, you would always recoil away when he would try to cuddle you after. Maybe it’s because you always felt like trash after he finished. Most of your sexual experience were done under an intoxicated haze or with a selfish lover who just wanted to use you to get off. 

As you listened to this man’s heartbeat, you suddenly felt extremely clingy, fearful that as soon as you let him go he would be gone forever. Eddie was already too far for your liking and you could tell he saw the panic in your eyes as his own gorgeous orbs scanned your face. 

“Hey.”, he cooed. “I’m right here, okay? We’re not going anywhere unless you want us to.”

At his friend’s words, Steve quickly craned his neck so he could look at you to. “Come on, honey. Let’s get you inside and back in bed. Do you think you can walk?”

What kind of question was that? Of course you could walk. The thing was…you didn’t want to. You wanted them to help you. You needed them to.

“Can Eddie carry me?”

The metalhead chuckles as he buttons his pants before getting out of the car and coming around to your side. “Whatever you need, princess.”

As he lifted you into his arms, you encircled your own limbs around his neck as you nuzzled his skin. After carefully placing you onto your mattress, he removed your shoes, socks, and pants so you could be more comfortable. You turned onto your side; eyes fully closed as you snuggled into your pillow. 

“Please don’t leave me here alone.”, you mumbled. 

“Don’t worry, sweetheart. We aren’t going anywhere.”

###########

@rckstrbee @melodymishahiddlestan @alienthingstwo

@siriuslysmoking @micheledawn1975 @cositaslua

@unfocused81 @paleidiot @steddieloverrr @aol19

[blueberrypancakesworld]

Oh the fluff alphabet for Euronymous was really good, now I’m curious about one for Faust

Thanks for the request dear anon, glad you liked the fluff - Alphabet and I hope you like this one. Have fun reading :)

Fluff Alphabet - Faust

warning : It' getting fluffy under the cut

masterlist

Disclaimer : I don't want to glorify anything, it's about the actors who play a role, not the real events.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A = Adoration (How do they worship you?)

°Since you came into his life, he seems to have found another pleasure besides mayhem, the black circle, violence, murder and other crimes. He lets you feel this at all times and tells you so at all times. You have become indispensable to him and he is happy to have you.

══════════════════════

B = Best friends (What would they be like as best friends? How would the friendship start?)

°He would be the one hundred percent reliable and loyal friend who may be a little short on words but who gives the best advice and tips and cares about you.

°You would have met at a Mayhem concert on the way to the bar to grab a beer when you collided and got talking.

══════════════════════

C = Cuddling (do they like to cuddle?, how do they cuddle?)

°Yes he loves to cuddle Faust is the biggest cuddler in the black circle even if it doesn't look like it. Just pulling you close and putting his arms around you is the best. But he also loves to get hugs from you whether short or long everything is great.

°He loves long cuddles, pulling you onto his lap and just holding you against him. It gives him a sense of security that you will never leave him despite what ever happens.

°,,A little longer for eternity"

══════════════════════

D = Domestic (how would they settle down? How are they cooking and cleaning?)

°He would live with his mother in the beginning and then either come to you or you to him depending on the situation. But as soon as you both have a job, you will get a flat together.

°He is not very good at cleaning up and leaves most things where he found them. But he is the best cook you can get. He can conjure up five-star menus for you that is truly fantastic (and he makes sure that the black circle doesn't starve).

══════════════════════

E = Ending (how would they break up with their partner if they had to?)

°He would do it shortly after his murder or shortly before. He's just worried about dragging you into the consequences. He doesn't want the police to suspect you. But he'd be the type to either use a lie or just leave you without a word. Just gone. It would hurt him, but in his eyes, it's better than explaining, because then he'd just start being.

°,,That's it, it's over... get out of here by tomorrow"

══════════════════════

F = Fiance(e) (how do they feel about consent? How soon would they want to get married?

°Marriage yes and no I think he'd be the type to hear that and just decide, ,,Yeah, if you get married we'll get married too, won't we honey?". It would have been discussed faster than usual.

°,,How does a honeymoon in Transylvania sound?"

══════════════════════

G = Gentle (how gentle are they mentally and physically?)

°Even when he has his violent fantasies he is mentally rather calm. He knows when to say something and when not to. He knows how to deal with you and how not to. But he loves to be gentle. To take care of you, to kiss you and to love you.

°,,You just always bring me down from high"

°Physically he is gentle, judging from the murder and the force he used. As already mentioned, he loves to cuddle, to grab your hand and kiss it or just to feel you on top of him.

°,,Cuddle, hold, kiss...please just one more time "

══════════════════════

H = Hugs (do they like hugs? How are their hugs?)

°He loves hugs no matter if longer or shorter. Whether you hug him or he hugs you. Just being able to hug you at any time is perfect (plus the other guys will let go of you and he can show them that you are his).

°,,Come here for another hug"

°He loves to practically run you over with his size and weight and hug you to the ground of course if the ground is not too hard. It's fun and often ends in a few kisses.

══════════════════════

I = I love you (how soon would they say it?)

°Since you got together or when you first met, it would have slipped out almost immediately. But after that he always whispers it to you and especially when you are alone together he loves it. It's his way of expressing his feelings for you.

══════════════════════

J = Jealousy (how quickly are they jealous? What do they do when they are jealous?)

°He doesn't get jealous very quickly. He knows that you love him and he loves you with all his heart. He trusts you and knows you won't cheat or betray him.

°He would be the quiet jealous type. He would cast the deadliest glances at the unknown/enemy. If this doesn't help (it always does) he takes out his knife and plays with it a bit and that almost always helps. If need be, he can always pull the stranger into a street and kill the man.

══════════════════════

K = Kisses (how are their kisses? where do they love to kiss you?)

°His kisses are gentle and almost restrained, especially in public. He is just a bit shy when you are in public. At home, his kisses are more intimate.

°On your lips he loves to kiss you, otherwise he loves to kiss your hands and thighs, maybe on the way to a little foreplay in the bedroom.

°,,You are just so beautiful".

══════════════════════

L = Little ones (how are they with kids?)

°Faust system crashed. He has absolutely no idea how to deal with children. He gets restless, nervous and completely quiet and hides behind his hair before retreating, hoping to be overlooked.

°,,Take it away...I don't want it"

══════════════════════

M = Morning (How do they spend their mornings?)

°He usually wakes up before you to prepare delicious breakfast and if you haven't woken up by then, to put it to bed with you or gently wake you up and take you to the kitchen so you can eat together.

°,,There are scrambled eggs with bacon"

══════════════════════

N = Night (how are nights spent with them?)

°Believe it or not he likes to listen to a radio play to fall asleep. Some brutal psycho thriller or true crime case that he somehow recorded himself. But he usually falls asleep halfway through. Cute.

══════════════════════

O = Open (how fast would they open)

°It takes him a long, long, long time to open up completely and reveal his innermost self. Little by little he tells the things when he feels ready. Which is why even after months things come to light.

°,,My love... I have to tell you something"

══════════════════════

P = Patience (how quickly are they annoyed?)

°It takes a lot for Faust to get annoyed and his patience to wear thin. This is most strained when there are children around, too little alcohol, the police or he simply hasn't slept enough and you both argue about something small. But even when he gets annoyed he quickly drops it and tries to solve it.

°,,Damn it, please give me a break"

══════════════════════

Q = Quizzes (how much would they know or remember about you?)

°He remembers a lot, especially what he has picked up from conversations, whether he has talked to you or heard from his friends. But he remembers every little detail and he is a little proud of it.

══════════════════════

R = Remember (what is your favourite moment in your relationship?)

°After he killed the man in the park it wasn't his parents house he went to confess or anything. No, it was your house he went to and told you about it, even though he expected you to be afraid of rejecting him. But even though at first you were afraid, you assured him that everything would be all right. Before you helped him to wipe the blood off him and somehow help him to calm down.

══════════════════════

S = Safety (how protective are they? How would they protect you?)

°He is quite protective but only when he or you feel you are under attack depending on the situation. Which is why he quickly stands in front of you and covers you with his gestalt.

°Unlike Euronymous, Faust doesn't need friends to help him. He has a knife and a joy to kill again he definitely doesn't need a small army he can do it himself and more than well. But even without a knife he is good in a fight.

°,,Don't worry, one strike and they're gone"

══════════════════════

T = Try (how much would they invest in dates anniversaries, gifts etc?)

°He would invest quite a lot in ideas for a date, for example. But it would end up in a bit of a mess because he has too many ideas he wants to implement. Before he has to resort to his emergency plan.

°His best gift to you, in his opinion, is a knife. Whether it's a hunting knife, a kitchen knife or a pocket knife, you name it.

°,,Emergency plan to visit the zoo...if you want of course"

══════════════════════

U = Ugly (what would be a bad habit of them?)

°That he either shuts himself off from you completely, for example in stressful situations. Or he takes refuge in alcohol, movies and homicidal thoughts when he just doesn't know what to do to solve a problem. Not to mention that he has killed someone and that is more than just a bad thing.

══════════════════════

V = Vanity (how much do they care about their appearance?)

°As for his clothes, he'll just take something from his wardrobe. Whether it fits or not, everything is black and that goes with everything. The only thing he is precise about and almost oversensitive about is his hair. He has a whole grooming routine for his hair in the bathroom. Not only is he proud of its length, but the softness and shine is his pride and joy.

══════════════════════

W = Whole (would they feel incomplete without you?)

°Yes, because you give him the security of having someone who loves him by his side. He is not the greatest talker and is grateful for his friends but you. You are just something that gives him something more than friendship. Love.

°,,I...I need you to please stay with me forever"

══════════════════════

X = Xtra (a random headcanon for them)

°When he is extremely nervous and you are alone together, he starts to stutter a little. Because he wants to say a lot and then he's too nervous, so he's grateful that you just wait until he's sure.

══════════════════════

Y = Yuck (what is something he would not like about his partner?)

°I think he wouldn't like it if his partner didn't have an opinion. Not only when it comes to deciding things. Even if he talks about his plan to kill someone or try to kill someone and his partner just doesn't have an opinion, it would bother him and he wouldn't feel listened to.

══════════════════════

Z = Zzz (what is a sleeping habit of them?)

°He's always holding on to you somehow. Whether it's your arm, your hip, your leg or your hand. He just needs to feel secure that you are with him and he loves it when he wakes up that you are with him.

══════════════════════

[eppysboys]

Sam Leach and Joan McEvoy's Engagement Party, 17th March 1962 🕺💃

Earlier in the evening, The Beatles performed at the Village Hall in Knotty Ash, Liverpool. The evening was billed as a "St. Patrick's Night Rock Gala". Sam Leach, (Liverpool concert booker) booked The Beatles and Rory Storm and The Hurricanes to draw a big crowd so that he could make enough profits to pay for his engagement party, scheduled to follow the night's show. Both bands attended Leach's party, which didn't end until the following afternoon. Also present at the party was Mike McCartney, Paul's girlfriend Dorothy 'Dot' Rhone, Brian Epstein, Bob Wooler and Ted 'Kingsize' Taylor.

In his book Sam Leach has a distinct memory of 'a gang of us' (presumably including Beatles and Hurricanes) travelling to the party from Knotty Ash in a van. Their driver (not Neil Aspinall) pulled out from the Village Hall into the path of a speeding articulated lorry which seemed to have appeared from nowhere. Everyone braced themselves for the inevitable impact but miraculously the lorry, its brakes screeching hysterically, managed to stop less than a foot from the side of the van. Shocked, stunned, shaken and stirred, everyone in the van travelled the 1.5 miles to the party in complete silence. 

Hurricane Johnny 'Guitar' Byrne diary entry for 1962 mentions the party:

"Bought Zodiac. Knotty Ash, Orrell, then Sam Leach's engagement party. Had row with Eileen. Got home 6."

The party was at the family house in Huyton, thrown by Dolly, mother of Vera and Joan McEvoy.

"I can vouch for the fact that Brian fell in love with Vera and pursued her all night. In fact after the party he wrote more than one letter to Dolly asking her could she help him fix a date with Vera. Unfortunately for Brian she wasn't interested." Sam Leach (She seemed a little interested, as displayed below)

"Brown, who was married (but separated) at the time of her liaison with Epstein in 1962, describes him as "...very emotional. He always gave the impression of being cold and icy, but he was very softhearted, very tender, very gentle, and he had a lot of feelings. And he was all man, I don't care what they say." (Ray Coleman, The Man Who Made The Beatles)

"We’d been to the Knotty Ash Club for my sister’s engagement. The Beatles had played there, as did Rory [Storm] and a few other groups. Afterwards, as usual, we all went back to the house and Brian came along.

If you saw the Beatles in my mother’s they were just a scruffy bunch of boys. And who’d look at them? I wouldn’t bother with them but then Brian stood out and Brian looked like the real thing. He was handsome. He was tall. He was immaculate. That’s why I let Brian get behind the bar with me and help me serve the drinks. He was the best of the bunch.

So we were just behind the bar when Elvis came on, 'Heartbreak Hotel’. He loved it, I loved it, and we started dancing. There wasn’t much room. You know, you could go two steps forward, three steps back and that was it. So we sort of got a bit close and everyone was laughing at us, saying, like, 'What’s going on?’ But if you moved sideways you fell over the crates. There were crates of beer in there and everybody’s coats. We ended up on top of the coats or on top of the crates if we just moved the wrong way. And we got pretty close but I wasn’t surprised by the way he was acting towards me.

We were dancing and kissing at the same time. He was probably one of the sexiest fellas I had ever met. People say, 'Oh well, Brian was gay.’ but he wasn’t very gay with me. He was just like any other man and more. He was very easy-going and casual and funny. He’d make you laugh and he could dance. You know he could move. He said to me, 'I’ve seen you in different places and I thought you were stuck up.’ And I said, 'Well, I thought you were stuck up because I remember being in your shop and you were like the big boss.’

I think he was pretty fresh. In a house where people are looking at you it’s not like a club with all the lights out and people tend to be aware of others but Brian wasn’t that bothered. He was interested and he showed it. Maybe he’d had a bit too much to drink. I don’t know. But I can’t say that because I met Brian afterwards and he was still interested.

The next day he called round to the house. I wasn’t there so he talked to my mother about poetry. I don’t know how they got talking about poems but Brian came the following day with a book of poems for my mother with a little letter. He also gave her a letter thanking her for having the party because everyone had made such a terrible mess of the house. It was full of eggs and rubbish and bottles everywhere and he apologized for the actions of everybody else at the party.

Well, my mother just thought he was the most wonderful person in the world. At last a gentleman has come through this door and not Teddy boys and hooligans and all the rest of it. In the first letter he said he’d enjoyed meeting her, loved coming to the house, felt so welcome and would she mind if he came around again to see me. I said to my mum, 'Well, that’s impossible. How can I see him? You know I can’t go out with Brian.’ She said, 'You will have to’.

My mother was in love with Brian: 'He’s beautiful. He’s wonderful.’ So she sort of arranged it. I didn’t want him to come and pick me up at the house because I didn’t want people to see us going out. I arranged to meet him in a little cafe in Bold Street. We had a coffee and a chat and then I can’t really remember where we went. We went somewhere for a drink around Bold Street where there were all these little dives at the time. But I had to be back for nine o'clock. Another time I met him in the Tower and we had a little chat. We met in the back office and had a talk.

I liked Brian as a man and I think Brian liked me. But then he suggested if we were to go out we’d have to go to Southport or Manchester - anywhere out of Liverpool because he didn’t want to walk into my husband in Liverpool. We were separated at the time but it was a little bit awkward, you know.

It’s hard for me to believe Brian was gay. I think if I had been free and if I’d seen more of Brian I think we could have got serious. I think he was all man. I just can’t accept that he was gay.

In the shop Brian seemed like a man, like your dad shouting at you and superior. He had an attitude of superiority. But later on I discovered he was just like any other man. I thought he was a very passionate, loving person. He was like two different people. So if there’s a third person involved - this gay person - I just say he’s one hell of a man to be able to please everybody. You know, he was just unique. That’s all I can say." Vera Brown, In His Life, The Brian Epstein Story.

"George always fancied Joan and when I began dating her, he asked her to let him know when she finished seeing me. 'But don't tell Sam', he added. 'He’d batter me!' Today she probably feels like battering me for spoiling her chances." Sam Leach, The Rocking City

"Later in the evening, Joan had a headache and said she was going upstairs for a lie down. I went to fetch a couple of aspirins from the kitchen and said I'd follow her. Bob Wooler then made a typically cheap remark about pre-marital sex. Before I had a chance to sort him out, Paul and George grabbed him and made him personally apologise to Joan." Sam Leach, The Rocking City

"Rory Storm was lying on the floor hopelessly drunk. He shouted up to Paul, 'I wanna be in the picture'. So, as you can see, Paul bent down and lifted his foot into the shot." Sam Leach

"The night rolled on and I found Lennon, completely sloshed, sitting in the kitchen rolling raw eggs down Ann Barton's birds-nest hairstyle. Each time one broke, he gave a gasp of astonishment at the gooey yellow mess spreading across the tiled floor. Dolly found out and gave him a severe rollicking, which sobered him up enough to utter a sincere, 'Sorry, Mrs Mac'. Everyone liked and respected Dolly McEvoy and that was the only time I ever saw Lennon genuinely humbled. He disappeared for a while after that and was found later fast asleep in the bath.

When he finally came downstairs, he once again started to apologise. Dolly had forgotten all about it, but he was still apologising as he left at nine the next morning. As we stood outside, he shook my hand gravely. 'That was the very best party I've ever been to . . . honest,' he croaked. I was pleased everyone had enjoyed themselves, but when John started thanking me for a third time, I put him in a taxi and packed him off home. As he left, I slipped an egg into his pocket. He never did tell me how that hatched out." Sam Leach, The Rocking City

[thegettingbyp2]

I think this would be cute! "That's honey for me, but Mrs for you" for Aaron Tveit haha I'm on a high after the recent concert in London

Don't Call Her Honey

A/N: Hi! I've combined this with another request I got about the reader calling Aaron handsome so I hope that's okay! Also, about the concert in London, I'm the exact same! I don't think I'm ever going to process it! I was front row and he was DIRECTLY in front of me in the curtain call so when they play it in cinemas, I'll be shocked if you don't see me freaking out aha!

This GIF is KILLING me

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With yours and Aaron’s busy schedules, you sometimes found yourselves going for days without having a proper conversation, just having a quick kiss at the door as one of you left for work. That’s why you always made sure that, once a month, you booked a night for date night, where no work was involved and you could just spend some much needed time with each other.

Getting ready for this date night had you feeling even more excited to spend time with Aaron due to it being your first wedding anniversary. You’d had gifts upon gifts being delivered to your work throughout the day from your husband and you were pretty sure the day couldn’t get any better. You had chosen a light green dress paired with the necklace Aaron had got you for your birthday last year, getting the desired effect from Aaron the second he stepped into the bedroom, dressed in a pair of black trousers with a white t-shirt and blazer over the top.

‘You’re so beautiful,’ he said softly, standing in the doorway. You smiled at him through the mirror before standing up and making your way over to him, reaching up to press a gentle kiss to his lips. Rubbing your thumb over his lip after to get rid of the lipstick you’d left on him.

‘And look at you, looking all handsome,’ you replied, straightening the lapels of his blazer. When you didn’t hear a reply from Aaron, you looked up to see him looking down at you with a small frown on his face. ‘What’s up?’

‘You really think I’m handsome?’ he asked, sounding confused which brought a small frown appearing on your face.

‘Of course I do, why do you sound so surprised?’

‘Nothing. I’ve just never been called handsome before,’ he said quietly, his cheeks flushing lightly as he looked down.

‘What do you mean? Surely the other people you dated told you you were handsome?’ you asked, genuinely perplexed at the fact that no one had called him handsome before.

‘I mean, I’ve been called pretty before, but most of the relationships I was in before I met you just gave me the feeling that I was just there to look good or so they’d have something to brag about, I never felt like they just wanted to be with me.’

You felt your heart break slightly at his words. You hated that he’d been made to feel that way so you decided to make it your mission to remind him of how handsome you found him for the rest of the night.

---

You were trying to stifle your laughter as you sat opposite Aaron in the restaurant. All night, you’d been telling him how handsome he looked, always emphasising your words. And every time, his cheeks would flush and he’d either stumble over his words or choke on his drink.

After you’d finished your meal, you left your table and made your way over to the bar, taking a seat at the bar while Aaron ordered a couple of drinks. Before the drinks could arrive, he excused himself to go to the bathroom, kissing your cheek before disappearing round the corner. You took the time you were on your own to quickly flick through your phone, replying to a message from your mother when you felt someone’s arm brush against yours as they took a sat in Aaron’s seat.

‘Oh, sorry, that seat’s taken,’ you said, looking up from your phone to see the guy sitting next to you staring at you, a creepy smirk playing on his lips.

‘Now it’s taken,’ the guy replied, looking your body up and down, making an uncomfortable shiver run through your body.

‘No, it’s really taken. My husband’s going to be back any minute,’ you said, flashing him your wedding ring in the hopes he’d get the hint and leave you alone.

‘I know how this works,’ the guy said, shooting you a wink, ‘you wear a fake wedding ring to make us work for it right? Now, how about you let my buy you a drink, honey?’

‘Don’t call her honey.’

You felt your breath leave your body in a relieved sigh when you heard Aaron speak from behind you as his hand weaved protectively around your waist. Placing your hand on top of his, you leaned back until your head was resting against his chest, smiling when you felt him kiss the top of your head. However, the guy who was currently sitting opposite you, was grinning widely, clearly not buying it.

‘Okay, so now you bring your friend in to play your husband? You’re really playing hard to get, aren’t you?’

‘She isn’t playing hard to get, you can’t get her. She’s my wife and you seriously need to back off,’ Aaron said, stepping in front of you slightly, your fingers twisting in the back of his blazer. The guy still had the cheek to look around Aaron at you again.

‘Seriously, honey, you can ditch your friend, come and get a drink with me and we can see where the night takes us, how’s that sound?’

Before you had the chance to say anything Aaron replied, his voice raising slightly as he was getting more and more annoyed. ‘No. You don’t get to call her honey. I get to call her honey because I’m her husband. You can call her Mrs Tveit. In fact, you don’t get to call her anything. Now, leave before I have to call security over.’

You couldn’t see Aaron’s face but something in his expression must have spooked the guy because he was quick to vacate the seat and leave the bar. Aaron turned back around to you, cupping your face in both of his hands. ‘Are you okay? How long was that guy here for?’

‘It wasn’t too long before you came back, I’m fine,’ you replied, smiling up at him. ‘Though that was really hot, watching you stick up for me like that.’

‘Oh yeah?’ he asked, leaning down to press a gentle kiss to your lips. ‘Well if I leave you at a bar long enough, I’m sure there’ll be a whole line of people for me to ward off.’

‘We might have to explore that another time,’ you replied back, rubbing your thighs together slowly. ‘But for now, I want my handsome husband to take me home so I can show him just how handsome he is and how thankful I am that he defended my honour,’ you teased, laughing when you noticed his cheeks flushing again when you called him handsome.

[akookminsupporter]

Personally I didn't liked concert

BTS concerts used to have a decorum. The work ethic they kept were so high. Any age can easily attend their concert But now many of them are 'trying' to be cool. Thinking swearing a 100 times, drinking on stage which is so unprofessional and including smoking scenes will make them cool adult?

His dad is literally a Liver cancer patient and the reason is easy to guess. Now Yoongi is doing down same way. Y'all like to preach adults can do whatever they want and they know what they are doing when it reality many of them are so dangerous for your own life and people won't even understand because 1)they are addicted 2)they think they are so coolLike BTS complains that we changed, they changed 10001% and I don't like it at all. But as long as he's doing some 'cool' acts it's top tier for yall I guess.

One thing I will always criticize BTS for is that they promoted an almost perfect public life for so long that now in this second chapter when they are showing their fans that they are normal people like us, many are shocked. They are shocked because they are doing things that many in their 20s have done or are doing.

They weren't like that before, they've changed!" No Veronica, they just stopped pretending to be perfect.

I want to believe that you are an older person but I know that there are "young" people who pretend to have the moral high ground, like you.

What people like you always fail to understand is that these people are adults who are responsible for themselves. They have to take responsibility for their actions, not you.

You talk about drinking alcohol and smoking as if it is a sin. It may be bad for a person's health in the long run but many say the same thing about sugar and people consume it every day. You sound like a person whose idealised image of these men is slowly falling away.

The concert was fun, it was very good. It was exactly what everyone expects an Agust D concert to sound like. Because I don't know if you heard but, the concert was not a BTS concert but an Agust D concert.

Have you ever listened to any of this man's songs? I'm going to assume you haven't because that's the only reason you would expect a blown-up castle in the middle of the stage and not Yoongi drinking alcohol.

Before you or anyone else comes and says that they are the role model for too many people and blah blah, I hope those people don't do what others do for the sake of doing it or because they "love them" so much, let alone if it's something bad, controversial or unhealthy. Critical thinking, personal opinion, concepts so easy but so many make them complicated.

Yes, anon, they can do what they want and so can you. If you don't like it, don't watch it. Unfollow them. Believe me, it's not an obligation. I hate prejudiced people who love to beat their chests pretending to have the moral high ground among others.

It's funny how you proved Yoongi's point.

[missmaywemeetagain]

Read Need Your Love Tonight ✈️💙🔥...

It's 1961 and we're headed to Hawaii for the U.S.S. Arizona Benefit Concert! ✈️ This one is an older woman and Elvis, so buckle up, babies! All the pics are from the day/night of the concert, just cuz I know a little visual stimulation never hurts...😏

TW: SEXX, age gap (f > m), period appropriate ageist nonsense, fluff, Elvis in that gold jacket, a little sub!e for funsies

FYI: Gold Scarf ✨🧣✨comes out tomorrow for Sweethearts💕 & above tiers over on Patreon! Don't want to miss out? Join HERE ✨

March 25th, 1961

“Are you sure about this, y/n?” Margie asks you, yet again. She looks at the sign in your hand that you’ve got tucked in by your feet with doubt in her ever-practical brown eyes. “I mean, it’s not too late to just chuck it.”

You laugh, unwilling to let her change your mind. “Oh, come on, Margie! Have a little fun, will ya? It’s not like it really matters. He probably won’t even see it, anyway, so why not?”

“But it’s a little desperate, don’t you think? And it announces to the world that you’re practically a spinster at your age!” she laughs, poking you in your side.

You roll your eyes. “A divorcee is not a spinster, honey. Plus, it gives me character,” you say, fluffing your chic new bob. “Plus, lord knows Elvis Presley has plenty of young admirers. Some of these girls are just babies. They wouldn’t even know what to do with a man like him.” You wink at Margie salaciously.

“Oh, how in the world did I let you talk me into this?” she groans, teasing and giving you a smile that only a best friend could.

It’s not that her words don’t sting just a little though. You certainly hadn’t planned to be 35 years old and recently divorced, or for your husband—ex-husband—to be a giant cliché and leave you for his (much) younger secretary.

That’s why you treated yourself on this trip to Hawaii, using his money and dragged Margie, your life-long best friend, along for the ride. It was a huge bonus when you found out Elvis was going to be performing for the first time since the 50’s and for charity no less. You didn’t mind one bit when springing for the $100 ringside seats for you and Margie. It was a win-win-win situation.

Even though you’d been older than him and his target audience, Elvis intrigued and attracted you from the beginning. The young man with the sleek hair, cutting edge style, and wiggling hips set your heart aflutter even though you were married and, according to your mother, should be “beyond such things.”

Hey, there isn’t any harm in looking, was your thought.

You wiggle your feet under your chair to try and alleviate the numbness in your toes. Perhaps heels hadn’t been the most practical choice for this particular venture, but really all you care about (despite what you told Margie) is Elvis noticing you, even just a little bit. God knows you need this after all you’ve been through. And if that takes wearing a sexy outfit and making a ridiculous sign asking, “Am I too old for you?” in giant, bold letters to get his attention, so be it.

You may be in your mid-thirties and divorced, but you still look decent. And you don’t plan on being single forever. Something in you feels like if you can at least catch the eye of the most famous man on earth, you have a chance at catching another man sooner rather than later.

Your stubborn, fiery nature will come in handy tonight, you just know it will. Even as that too-grown-up shred of doubt telling you this is silly winds through your mind, you still have a good feeling about this.

Sitting through the opening acts, you find yourself wiggling in your seat, filled with an excitement you haven’t felt about anything in a while. The other acts are good—you particularly enjoy that the opening comedienne was a woman—but you are itching to see Elvis. In the flesh.

Finally, after what seems like forever, the main event begins. Your eardrums are blasted out by what must be at least two full minutes of young girls shrieking at the top of their lungs. Rightly so, you think as you watch the tall drink of water that is Elvis Presley strut onto the stage. You are blessing your lucky stars above for the divorce settlement because you are so close, you can see just how deliciously handsome the man is in person.

And, boy, is he.

Even having seen his perfect visage in movies on the big screen truly did not hold a candle to the broad-shouldered man in the glittering gold jacket standing on the stage before you. There is almost an innocence and perhaps even a nervousness in his deep-set dreamy blues. His dark hair is coiffed just perfectly and you watch his leg jiggle as he takes the microphone. A wave of heat rolls over you, flushing you from head to toe, and it has nothing whatsoever to do with the temperature in the arena.

There is a boyish playfulness to him you do not expect of the seasoned 26-year-old entertainer. He is indelibly charming and likable, not afraid to laugh at himself or the insanity of the crowd around him, but it’s not in a disparaging way. It’s more like he still can’t quite believe it’s all for him.

The reason he’s always fascinated you becomes obvious now that he’s right in front of you. He is a walking contradiction—delicate feminine features in a sharp masculine package, a deep low drawl coupled with a light warbling tenor. Singing lyrics that make you think the dirtiest things and then he turns around and does a spiritual. You have whiplash in the very best way.

You’re so distracted by his essence and the hypnotizing way he’s working the crowd that you almost forget about your sign. When One Night croons out of him with the promise of his “sweet helping hand,” a fire lights under you and you fumble around at your feet and flip the sign up for him to see.

Come on, come on, come on, you think, tapping your foot. Look over here.

At this point you will accept anything from the singer—a wink would suffice. Anything to let you know that you’re not just a washed-up divorcee who’s too old or ugly to find happiness with anyone else. Even if that happiness is just for one night because of one small moment, it’ll be worth it.

He’s so consumed by the song, his eyes closing and the rhythm pumping through his whole body, that you’re not sure he’ll see you. Your fingers grip the sign anxiously. You’d rather not have to hold it up for the rest of the concert, and you are kicking yourself for not remembering earlier, but you’ll do what you’ll have to do.

The end of the song comes, to which he adds a toe-curling groan, and when he opens his eyes, they land on you. A bolt of lightning strikes inside you, filling your veins with a scorching desire at the way those pretty eyes fall on your sign. You wait with bated breath as he reads each word silently, “Am I too old for you?” He gives you a quick cursory glance and then starts to walk away.

“Thank you,” he says to the crowd as screams fill the arena. The opening chords of Are You Lonesome Tonight start to play.

Fitting song choice, you think a little bitterly. Well, at least he saw me.

You find yourself fighting back tears, the split-second moment feeling anticlimactic and dissatisfying. A bit of a punch to the gut, really. It’s the dismissal that really stings, though your logical brain tells you he’s concentrating on his work and your sign is likely no more than a short distraction.

Suddenly, Elvis stops. He turns back towards you and steps in your direction. Your breath catches in your throat when he points at you. It is as if his finger is connected to you by an invisible string, and you find yourself sitting up taller and leaning forward on the edge of your seat. Then, he tilts the microphone away for a moment, his infamous lip curling up into a delicious boyish smile.

“Never,” he says, looking you straight in the eyes.

There’s about a hundred horses galloping in your chest and you feel like you might melt into the chair or start shrieking like one of the thousands of teenagers behind you. Your mouth hangs open in disbelief. Margie elbows you in the ribs and you blink, and realizing he’s staring, waiting, you smile the biggest smile you’ve ever smiled.

He winks in response and then turns back to the band. You let out a shuddering breath you hadn’t known you’d been holding, dropping the sign on the floor.

“Oh, my god, y/n! He spoke to you! He pointed you out!” Margie whispers excitedly in your ear, bouncing up and down as if she too had been possessed by a teenage girl.

For once in your life, you are speechless and can only nod in her direction, your eyes never leaving Elvis. It’s like you are in his thrall and unable to do anything but focus on his voice and his beautiful face.

Ever the consummate performer, he uses his space well, walking from one end of the stage to the other as he brings the entire arena to quiet with the lullaby-esque ballad. Your frustrated tears from earlier have morphed into tears of overwhelm, of being moved by his voice and the melody. Combined with the lyrics of this particular tune, it feels like he’s somehow seen into your soul and is singing straight to you.

He's in front of you now, and you barely register the fact that he’s bending down, throwing his long legs over the edge of the stage to sit there, as if he weren’t performing for a crowd of 4,000. The girls shriek with even more fervor.

As he begins the spoken part, his legs dangling right there in front of you, he says, “I wonder if you’re lonesome tonight,” staring straight at you once again.

Every nerve in your body is at attention and you know you’ve flushed a shade of cherry red because he smiles knowingly at the effect he’s had on you. He looks away, continuing the rest of the spoken part, and you shiver despite the humid warmth.

Only Margie’s hand clamping over yours reminds you that you are still on earth and that this is indeed all real. And when he looks back at you and says, “I loved you at first glance,” the blood drains from your head straight into your belly and you think you might actually pass out, right there in front of him.

A choked noise escapes your throat and luckily Margie, knowing you as well as she does, starts squeezing your hand with a grip strength you didn’t know was possible from the tiny woman. The pain brings you out of your daze, and you breathe again as he looks away and finishes the song.

It was truly more than you ever could have hoped for and the last three songs of the set fly by. You don’t want it to end, but at least you accomplished what you’d set out to do, which honestly was a little bit of a surprise, despite all your talk at the beginning. For the first time in a long while, you feel a tad bit hopeful about the future. You know it’s probably stupid, this idea that a morsel of attention from Elvis Presley could make you feel valued again, but you feel it all the same. After all, if Elvis thinks your worthy of note, then you must be.

Take that, Mike. You and your secretary can shove it. The thought brings a little smile to your face.

A boisterous version of Hound Dog starts playing and you find yourself grinning from ear to ear, bopping back and forth with Margie. You can’t help but stare at those famous hips as he shakes them oh so perfectly in your direction and are quite mesmerized by them when Margie very pointedly bumps your knee with hers. Looking over, you see a short man in front of you bending towards your ear.

“Hi, Miss, I’m Joe. I work for Elvis, and he would like to see you after the show,” Joe says kindly, presenting it as more of a statement than a question. Your eyebrows shoot up to the sky and you look at him disbelievingly. “You and your friend, of course,” he adds quickly, with a disarming smile.

You shoot Margie a look that you hope conveys the appropriate amount of giddy excitement under the strategically calm look you plaster across your face. It’s one thing to be a mooning schoolgirl with your friend in the audience, but completely different once a very real and unfamiliar young man invites you to meet Elvis Presley.

You give the guy a once over and see the lanyard hanging from his neck that shows that he is indeed working as part of the show, lending some credibility to his request. Margie looks at you with keen eyes, then gives you a shrug of approval before you nod and agree.

“Come with me, ladies, or we’ll be caught in the crowd,” Joe says, ushering you two out of the area before the last song is over. Head spinning, you feel a little regretful that you are missing it, and you are almost out of sight before you realize you’ve left the sign on the floor.

The song and the sign should be the last thing on your mind, but you find your disbelief of the situation feels a little too much to handle as Joe brings you to a black door with a guard standing in front of it. If you had any doubt before, the nod of the guard and the way he instantly opens the door for Joe tells you that this might be real after all.

Margie loops her arm in yours as you step into the dark hallway and Joe leads you away from the stage and the shrieking applause of the arena. By the sound of the immense applause, Elvis’ set is finished and he must be taking his bows.

The butterflies in your stomach make you glad you had only a light dinner as Joe finally opens a door to what you assume is a dressing room. You blink against the light.

“Make yourselves comfortable, ladies. Elvis will be with you shortly,” Joe says before leaving and closing the door behind him.

You break away from Margie, who starts tittering around the room. You are so dazed you barely hear her.

“Are you listening to me, y/n? I cannot believe your silly sign worked! Elvis Presley—the Elvis Presley—wants to see us? I mean, you, really, but hey, I’m glad to be along for the ride! He is awfully handsome, isn’t he?” Margie rambles on.

All you can do is nod while your mind whirls a million miles an hour. Suddenly, all your confidence from before the show disappears and you feel incredibly silly. You’re almost an old woman, for god’s sake. What are you even doing here? What if Elvis comes back, sees how old you really are, and realizes his mistake? Oh, this might be one of the stupidest things you’ve ever done, and that’s saying something.

“Oh, no you don’t, missy. Don’t you give up on me now, not when you’re so close to the finish line!” Margie scolds, then puts her arm around you, leading you to the couch. She sits you down and turns your face to hers.

“He’s gonna take one look at me and run for the hills, Marg,” you whimper.

“Stop it—he will do no such thing. And keep your expectations manageable. We’re just meeting him, that’s all. It’s not like you are going to sleep with the man!” she laughs and shakes her head.

You don’t laugh and Margie stops abruptly. “Oh, my lord above, do you want to sleep with him? Do you think he wants to sleep with you?” she asks, lowering her voice to a whisper, her eyes widening.

This time you can’t help but laugh at her. “Okay, first of all, who doesn’t want to sleep with him? Secondly, I have no idea if he wants that. He’s the biggest star in the world, Marg! I don’t know what his expectations are of the women he brings backstage!” you whisper back, looking around as though there might be lackies lurking about listening to you two chirp away.

Margie now looks as nervous as you feel. She starts playing with her wedding ring in a self-soothing motion and you can’t help but fidget with the simple diamond necklace hanging around your neck.

“Look, it’s probably nothing, right? You just caught his eye and he wants to say hi,” she says, trying to be reassuring but it feels anything but.

“Yes, of course…you don’t think he’ll laugh at me, do you? Like he didn’t just bring us back to make fun of me, right?”

“Don’t be ridiculous. He doesn’t seem the sort to do that,” she replies, as if she knows the man personally.

Before you can respond, you hear people in the hallway, coming closer by the second. You don’t even have time to look in the mirror because the door opens and the room floods with a loud group of men.

You quickly slide your best confident and nonchalant air over your features, a skill well-practiced from your days going to Mike’s work parties with his insufferable partners and their equally insufferable wives.

The moment Elvis enters the room, the air shifts, as though his essence somehow defies physics and the atoms that make him up are different than the rest of yours. He is glowing, both with sweat and the high of his performance, his gold jacket abandoned to one of his followers along the way. His white ruffled shirt is soaked through with sweat and the sight has you beginning to sweat yourself. It’s as if his pheromones have already sent your hormones into overdrive, and you have the sudden urge to rip that sweaty shirt right off his body.

Instead, you dig your nails into your palm and wait for him to notice you. It takes a moment, what with all the hullabaloo around him. He’s still breathing hard from his performance and laughing with the men. You watch carefully as he pulls off his blue string tie and begins unbuttoning his shirt and rolling his sleeves up his forearms. The scene is so natural and intimately masculine in its way that it sends a shiver down your spine and reminds you that it’s been too long since you’ve had a man if this is all it takes to get you going.

The room suddenly feels very hot and it’s in that moment that Elvis sees you. He gives a low whistle. “Well, if it isn’t the pretty lady with the sign,” he says in his lilting Southern drawl, his eyes never leaving you as he makes his way across the room. Your heart flutters as though a hummingbird is caught in your chest. You stand to greet him.

“Mr. Presley,” you say demurely as he comes to a stop before you and takes your hand in his. The heat from it is blistering on your skin in the best possible way, and when he presses his lips into your fingers without taking those gorgeous blue eyes off you, the zing goes straight into your core.

“Please call me Elvis,” he says in a way that is sweet as pie but with an undercurrent of heat that causes you to blush. “And you are?”

It takes a second for you to remember your own name, and in that short break, Margie jumps up beside you. “She’s y/n, and I’m Margie,” she says, and you hold yourself back from shooting her a scathing look when his eyes shift to her with a kind smile.

A kind smile, but without the same heat, you can’t help but notice.

When he turns back to you and guides you back to the couch, Margie gives you a knowing glance and bites her lips in a smile, obviously trying to hold back a girlish grin.

It doesn’t take long for Elvis to cozy up to you. His arm ends up around the back of the couch and then your shoulders rather quickly, his long fingers drawing soothing circles on your dress. If you were younger and less experienced, this might have been salaciously forward. As it stands, however, sitting here so close to him that you can feel the heat radiate off his sweaty body, it is not even close to enough to satiate you.

Elvis keeps asking you questions, looking at you with endlessly deep blue bedroom eyes framed in long, dark lashes, smudged with remnants of what you assume is eye makeup. You answer his questions, nervous and coy at first, then with increasing candor, because all at once you come to a decision:

You want nothing more than to utterly ruin this boy, despite propriety, despite your reservations and low expectations from earlier. No, judging from the curiously passionate way he keeps looking at you and the increasing tightness in your lower belly, you very much know that you want to take him to bed.

Almost as if he can read your mind, he leans in towards your ear. “Would ya like to come back to my place, darlin’?” he whispers. The hushed, warm cadence of his voice sends tingles sparkling over your body. He’s surprisingly shy about the proposition considering how forward it is, and it’s all you can do to keep from straddling his spread legs right there and then.

Instead, you settle for a nod and a quiet, “I’d like that very much.”

With that, he wastes no time, popping up off the couch and announcing abruptly that it’s time to go. His entourage scrambles to attention, and Margie gives you a quizzical look as Elvis grabs your hand.

You smile at her in the way only a best friend can and her eyebrows shoot up to her hairline, as though she can’t quite believe your intentions. She’s nervous, you can tell by the way her brow furrows. She begins worrying her lip as the both of you are ushered out and down the dimly lit corridor.

Part of you thinks that perhaps you should be nervous, too. After all, you don’t know Elvis or his people. Yet there is something about him that is utterly disarming—a unique sort of charm perhaps, but it really is more than that. It’s a vulnerability you don’t expect from a man like him. A yearning to connect, maybe.

It’s something that makes him not so different from you.

Before you can really absorb what’s happening, you are whisked into a car with Elvis, Margie, and some of his people, and the lot of you are taken to the Hawaiian Village Hotel. Margie grips one hand while you splay the other on Elvis’ thigh. He lays his larger hand on top and threads his fingers through yours, suggesting a level of intimacy which surprises you. There is a neediness to it, and you have the distinct urge to take care of him in whatever way you can. A knot of warmth grows deep in your belly at the thought.

You feel calmer than you should because, despite his fame, every second you spend with Elvis he becomes less of an untouchable superstar and more of just a man. Even though in any other circumstance you might be afraid being in the company of so many strange men, this feels more like you were meant to be here all along. As if everything in your life has led you to this very night. You are excited, to be sure, but not afraid in the least. In fact, you are feeling more confident than you have in a while, an anticipatory excitement building in you with every passing minute.

Once you get to the hotel, Elvis does not want to let you out of his sight, or even his grasp, which makes it a little hard to convey to Margie all these thoughts of yours. It’s not until you abscond to the bathroom that you are able to get her alone, and even that gains you the cutest little boy pout from the young man who now seemingly has his sights set on only you. You escape only after telling him you must freshen up and give him a long kiss to the cheek, which you notice turns him a little pink.

Margie is beyond hesitant to leave here without you. “Don’t you think you are taking this a little too far, y/n?” she asks you with worry in her eyes.

“Marg, I know what I’m doing, and I’d be crazy not to take this chance. You know I’ll regret it for the rest of my life if I don’t. And it’s not like I’m some young, innocent thing he’s taking advantage of, am I?” you remind her, checking your makeup and hair in the mirror.

“I guess not. But promise me you’ll be careful! And that you’ll call me. I’ll worry if I don’t hear from you,” she tuts.

“I know and I will. You are the best friend a girl could ask for,” you smile, hugging her.

“I know I am,” she says, nodding, then whispers, “You better be ready to share all the details when you get back. A married woman can still be curious, you know.”

You laugh and say goodbye before Margie announces that she’d like to be taken back to your hotel. A few men hop to and she’s off before you know it.

Once she’s gone, Elvis grabs your hand and pulls you back into his suite of rooms, alone.

“You go on and make yourself comfortable, sweetheart. I just need to take a shower and get all this grime offa me,” he drawls, turning to the ensuite bathroom.

Emboldened by the quiet and the dark, you grab his hand and pull him back to you. Cupping his pretty face, you plant a long, lingering kiss full of promise on his lips. You can feel his surprise, at first, but he quickly relents and wraps his arms around you, deepening the kiss. Feeling him pressed against you sends your body into overdrive. Besides an angry and cliché tussle with the mailman after Mike had announced he was leaving, you hadn’t been with anyone in quite a while. That coupled with the raw, magnetic pull that had been growing all night between you and Elvis has your toes curling and your heart racing.

Elvis may be young, but he sure does know how to kiss, you think. His lips are incredibly soft and pliant and gentle, but you can feel his passion brewing just under the surface in the fevered way his hands dig into your back and his cock twitches in his slacks.

Even though you are loathe to do so, you break away first. “You’d better go shower,” you command, smoothing the ruffles on his shirt.

“Y-Yes, m-ma’am,” he manages to choke out, nodding voraciously. With one last peck to your cheek, he absconds quickly, and in his haste leaves the door open a crack. He undresses in what must be record breaking time, which you can hear from how quickly his clothes drop to the floor. Just thinking of him wet and naked mere feet away has slick gathering in your underwear. It takes everything in you to not follow him in.

Yes, you think you just might ruin him tonight, in the best possible way. Honestly, you’re not exactly sure where this self-assurance is coming from, other than the fact that he seems very taken with you and you have nothing to lose. You’re sure he’s quite experienced—there’s no way he wouldn’t be with his age and level of stardom, and while that should give you pause, you still have nearly a decade on the man. While your sex life had dwindled recently, there were plenty of better years when you and Mike went at it like rabbits.

You sit on the edge of the bed, opting not to take of your dress. There’s something about the fact that he will be naked (or nearly so) with you being fully clothed when he walks back in that entices you in such a way that it sends a shiver down your spine. Of course, it would’ve been prudent of you to wear sexier underwear, but you suppose your white lace set will have to do. Plus, you aren’t entirely certain you will be wearing them for long, anyway…

True to your prediction, the shower turns off in record time. You cross your legs and lean back on your hands, casually but expectantly. Elvis is breathless when he flings the door open, as though he just ran a sprint, droplets of water still glistening on his skin. He looks at you with hopeful, needy anticipation.

He's an absolute vision. Never has a man looked so good, you think. God surely spent extra time crafting this one, what with his high cheekbones and sparkling blue eyes and perfect lips. You make no secret of the way you take in his whole body, either, and his lips part and his eyes widen and you can’t tell if he’s maybe a little self-conscious by the way your gaze is raking over him.

You don’t care. The rapid rise and fall of his chest as he watches you tells you he’s enjoying it. His towel is slung low, wrapped and tucked in around his waist. There’s no hiding how his cock is hardening beneath it, the terrycloth twitching and tenting right before your eyes. Between that and the disheveled state of his wet hair, it makes you want to lick him dry in more ways than one.

You uncross your legs slowly and use one finger to beckon him forward in a come-hither action. You’d seen him do the same in one of his movies last year, but my oh my, how the tables have turned. He gulps visibly, his eyes drifting from your legs to your finger and back again, then pads towards you on the plush carpet until he’s standing right before you.

Looking up at him, you bite your lip coquettishly and see his eyes dilate. Your gaze drifts down his chest to his stomach, then follows the little trail of hair that goes from his belly button and disappears beneath the towel. You can’t help pressing your lips right above his navel and you feel him shudder against you, which you take as a sign to keep going. Kissing across his soft but lean stomach, then down that little trail, you open your legs and grab his hips, pulling him forward to you. He trips over his own feet to get there.

When your hands skirt the edge of the towel and begin to pull it open, his hand stops you. You look up at him to find him shaking his head bashfully.

“Y-y-you don’t h-hafta do that, m-ma’am,” he stammers out, belying his nervousness. You can’t seem to piece out why, exactly, because by the quite prominent erection he’s sporting right in front of your face, it’s evident that he’s excited by the notion. Perhaps he’s used to pretty, young things who don’t know what they are doing, or maybe the notorious 50’s rebel is a little old fashioned. But if there’s one thing you became quite skilled at in the last few years (in the failed hopes it might help your marriage), it was how to make a man fall apart in your mouth. You’d even developed quite the taste for it.

And something about the way he is calling you “ma’am” in his delightful and polite Southern accent has you licking your lips. “Oh, I know I don’t have to, baby,” you coo at him, “but I want to.” And with that, you unravel the towel and let it drop to the floor.

Elvis lets out a choked groan and his hands flail as though he wants to cover the magnificent member that springs forth before you, slapping up against his stomach. You swat his hands away, lips parting with a sigh as you take him in.

He’s intact, the red tip of him nestled under lighter foreskin. Perhaps that why his cheeks are as pink as they are. You’d heard women titter in whispers about uncircumcised men being “ugly” or “unclean,” and while you didn’t have any personal experience with it, it does not turn you off in the least. Quite the opposite, if fact, as you can feel your arousal soaking the fabric between your thighs. What is beyond evident is that God didn’t just give him a pretty voice and a pretty face—he’s got a cock to match.

“Perfect,” you sigh and smile up at him, rubbing encouraging little circles at his hipbone with your thumb.

He lets out a shaking breath and a look of relief passes quickly over his features, but there is still a vulnerable hesitance about him. It does something primal to you. You just want to eat him right up.

But before that, you think he’s due for a little teasing. It’s the least you can do after the show he put on for you earlier and how it had made you ruin your panties to watch him live on stage. Pressing your lips along the cut of his groin, you feel the tickle of the course thatch of hair he’s got curling around the base of him. He shivers violently with each kiss, holding back a strangled moan as you get closer and closer to the place he wants you the most. Not seeming to know what to do with his hands, they flounder a bit before resting lightly on your shoulders, the heat of them blazing through your dress.

Using just the tip of your pointer finger, you run it under and up his large ball sack, noticing the way they seem to draw in closer and the way he jumps when you do so. Your other hand reaches around to grab his perfectly round ass cheek to keep him near and steady. The cutest little yelp falls out of his mouth. You smile, finally dragging your finger up the silky soft flesh covering his rock-hard shaft.

He jolts, the long length of his cock bouncing toward you, knowing and eager for what you have in store for him. The tip of your finger circles the slit of him, already weepy with precum, and you see how sensitive he is around his foreskin when he sucks in a short breath as your finger circles that, too.

Without warning him, you run the tip of your tongue from base to head, savoring the clean but still musky scent of him as you go. You look up to see his eyes roll back and his lips part, a whisper of “Goddamn,” falling from his mouth like a prayer.

You kiss and lap your way back down then take him in your hand to tilt his cock down to you. The heavy feel of him in your palm coupled with the way his hands tighten and dig into the fabric of your dress has you knowing you are on the right track. You pump him once, twice, three times, your wrist twisting and changing pressure to see what makes him moan the most. When you find the right combination, you swirl your tongue around his leaking tip before closing your mouth around it.

The low keen that vibrates out of him is desperate and sensual. Your thighs tighten around his legs, boxing him in, and your pussy clenches around nothing, yearning for friction. Right now, you concentrate on taking him in your mouth, lathing your flattened tongue up and down his penis while you suck in, sealing yourself around him.

It’s then that his hands finally fly up to your hair, carting through it, and you can feel him holding back. It’s good that he knows you are in charge, and he fully submits to how you begin working his balls and the hilt of him with one hand as you inch his ample length further into your mouth.

Obscene moans are falling past his lips now, only getting louder when you match them with your own, the vibrations causing him to thrust a little down your throat.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he pants as you press him past your gag reflex, your throat tightening then relaxing around him. His legs tremble and you pull off him for a moment to catch your breath, a string of saliva connecting your mouth to him still.

Elvis whimpers and you smile up at him, using your hand to pump him fully. You reckon he’s not going to last long in this by the way he’s crumbling so beautifully in front of you. The urge to want to choke on his cock comes over you so strongly that you can’t wait any longer. You take him back down your throat quickly enough that his eyes pop open in surprise and his hand finally tightens in your hair the way you want it to.

He's bigger than Mike in every way, but you don’t let that deter you. No, you feel quite confident as you open your throat for him as best you can, all the while working him with your tongue and hand. For the first time in a long time, you feel like you could conquer the world, despite your age, despite being divorced, because you are going to make the king of rock and roll himself unravel at your feet. The thought has you soaking your panties as Elvis murmurs your praises.

“I-I-I’m not gonna…last…gonna blow if ya keep this up, mama,” he pants, trying to pull away as if not wanting to sully you. But you are far too experienced and far too aroused for such sentiment. Instead, you grab his ass in both hands and press him so far down that your nose hits his pelvis. Feeling him tense and shudder, you give him every trick at once, relishing his pleasure as it serves your own. His strangled cry fills the air as he pulses in your mouth, shooting his salty release straight down your throat as you swallow around him.

The pleasured run of expletives he’s moaning must be loud enough for others to hear, but that arouses you even more because you are causing it. His body shakes hard through his orgasm, and he bows over you, clutching your head in an effort to stay standing. When you finally pull off him, his saliva-covered dick is still heavy and hard.

Ah, youth, you think with a smile.

“Oh, oh mama,” he says breathlessly, “that w-was…oh lord...” Then he collapses next to you on the bed, staring up at the ceiling in a daze.

You shift your body sideways so you can look down at him in his fucked-out afterglow. Somehow, he’s even more beautiful now than he was before, both innocent and debauched all at once, his high cheekbones flushed and his eyes dark and sparkling with lust. You can’t help but run your hand down his heaving chest, just to prove that this vision is real.

The action focuses him and he looks over at you, concerned, his hand cupping your cheek. “You okay? Y-ya really din’t have ta do that, honey,” he says quietly, his dark brows furrowing together handsomely.

“Don’t you worry about a thing, baby. I loved it,” you say, smiling. “Can I show you how much?”

His eyes widen and he nods.

As bold as you’ve ever been, you take his other hand in yours, tucking it under your dress. Slowly, you run his fingers along the inside of your thigh. His callouses catch on your silky stockings and you hear him hum in approval when you reach the past where your garter belt holds them up and your soft, bare flesh is exposed to his touch. There is no stopping you now, and when you guide his fingers to the sopping fabric between your legs, you watch as his lips part in what can only be described as a reverent, aroused awe.

“Ohhhh,” is about all he’s able to get out, and your body yields to him, legs falling open of their own accord as a sigh tumbles from your lips. You dip his fingers under the band that separates you and press him into the slick, and that’s all it takes for the boy to snap to attention.

In a fast, fluid motion, his lips capture yours, and he reverses your positions so you are lying back on the bed. As his mouth explores above, his fingers mirror below, caressing through your slick folds before circling your clit. It only takes him a moment of experimentation to find what makes you quake and roll in his hand—he’s obviously skilled in the art of a woman’s body, you’ll give him that.

You moan into his mouth when he pushes two long fingers up into your wet heat. Your pussy clenches around him, tight and needy, reminding you it’s been neglected for far too long. Pumping wickedly slow, he uses his tongue in your mouth to mimic what he’s doing to your clit with his thumb. God, you want him to devour you whole, you think as your nails dig into the bare flesh of his back and he curves his fingers inside you just so.

“Elvis!” you gasp and that cheeky lip of his curls up into that famous smirk. It turns your stomach gooey and molten, and your cunt squeezes demandingly around his fingers.

Kissing down your neck, his descent is thwarted by your dress. You whine when his fingers leave you and he pulls you to sit up. In one fell swoop, he deftly unzips your dress and yanks it up over your head, discarding it unceremoniously on the floor. Hungrily, his eyes rake over your form, and the scrutiny would usually have you a tad self-conscious, but he’s on you so fast, nipping at your skin, that you couldn’t care less what you look like.

The boy is proving quite proficient in removing undergarments, unclasping your bra with such skill that you barely realize it’s off before it joins your dress in a heap on the floor. You can’t think about much of anything with how his lips pepper your breasts with kisses, and when he attaches softly to your nipple, suckling there, the zinging sensation shoots straight through you and into your aching pussy.

You want him everywhere, your soft sighs of, “yes, yes, yes” urging him on. Running his hands up your legs, he slowly pops each clasp that holds up your stockings, his thumbs massaging maddening circles on the sensitive inner flesh of your upper thighs. Shivers ripple through you when he starts rolling the silky fabric off each leg, kissing each new inch of skin he exposes as he goes.

“Look at these pretty yittle sooties,” he coos as he takes off your heels and stockings, his hands massaging your sore arches. Your body, already on high alert, nearly levitates off the bed at the delectable it-hurts-so-good feeling. His lips press into your ankles, slowly trailing their way back up to your sex.

Oh, he’s good. You didn’t expect this, though perhaps you should have. The closer he gets to the ruined gusset of your panties, the faster your chest swells. It’s been a long time since any one has been down there like this, and you almost stop him, but the feel of his mussed damp hair tickling your thighs has you in quite a state. You suppose turnabout is fair play when he lightly and quickly presses his tongue into your core over the fabric, teasing what you hope is to come.

He switches gears and makes surprisingly quick work of your garter belt. His eyes flash in the darkness as he takes your panties in his teeth, dragging them with a playful growl down your legs. Completely exposed for him, he yanks you to the edge of the bed and pushes gently on your knees, spreading you open with a delight you didn’t know was possible.

“All that for me, mama?” he asks quietly, running the tip of his finger through your dripping arousal before putting it in his mouth and licking it clean. It’s so wonderfully dirty, making your cunt throb for attention.

“Yes,” you breathe, nodding furiously. When he licks his lips, you think you might die from waiting, but then he’s on you, his tongue lathing wide and flat from your ass to your clit.

You don’t recognize the sounds coming out of your mouth, the sensation of his wet softness exploring your most intimate areas being so overwhelming that it is hard to focus. He kisses and swirls around your puffy little nub, and your fingers fly into his dark hair, clasping the wet strands. When he hums against you in response, the vibrations have you gasping.

He continues his work, his tongue pointedly lapping through your swollen folds to your entrance. You think you might be dreaming when he begins fucking you with his tongue, and the tightness in your belly clinches when he flicks his finger over your clit rapidly.

“Oh, god,” you groan, hips undulating against his face, needing more of him. You had set out to ruin this man tonight and now he is undoing you piece by piece instead. He is a responsive and intuitive lover, you realize, as he replaces his tongue with his much longer fingers, pressing up into your body with precision.

Gaping, you push up on your elbows as he pulls back, and you catch the stunning sight of his pretty face slick with your arousal, looking at your cunt with determined reverence. He finds that spongey spot up inside you and takes that moment to fix his mouth to your sensitive bud and your eyes roll back in your head as you arch off the mattress to be closer to the heaven he’s bringing you to.

Fire spreads from your belly into the rest of your body, and you feel your climax closing in on you rapidly, despite part of you wanting this to last forever. When you realize he’s moaning against you and rutting against the bed, it sends a whole new set of fireworks through your nerves.

He’s getting off on this, you think. My pleasure his getting him off.

And there’s nothing sexier than that.

Adding another finger, he fucks you faster, harder, all the while massaging your clit intentionally with his tongue. He is a man on a mission now, and the searing wave of heat crests inside of you. All it takes is the guttural moan he lets go against you and you break apart.

Your fingers dig into his scalp and you thrust into his face as you come. It hits you hard and you cry out as he fucks you through it, catapulting you from your sensitive body to somewhere in the stratosphere.

Your eyelids flutter as you float back down to earth. The feel of his tongue licking up your release has you shuddering against him.

“Oh. Oh,” is all you can seem to manage, and you stare up at the ceiling wondering what good deed you did in your life to deserve this.

You feel Elvis slide his body up yours to lay beside you. He kisses up your neck until he reaches your lips, and you taste the tang of yourself on him. It shouldn’t entice you, but it does. Lying there, his naked body pressed against your side, you feel the hot heaviness of his erection hard against your hip.

“Best poster I ever made,” you breathe out, your filter completely gone after your mind-blowing orgasm.

Elvis chuckles in your hair. “How old are you, anyway?”

“Don’t you know it’s rude to ask a woman’s age, young man?” you tease, poking into his side.

“Hey now! I jus’ wanna make sure I don’t hurt ya. Don’t wanna send you to the home quite yet,” he smirks, then bites your shoulder.

“Oh, one of us is going to the home alright, and it’s not me,” you retort, pushing him over and flipping on top of him. “I’ll show you.”

He grunts as you straddle his hips. “Yes, ma’am, you’d better show me,” he says coyly.

“Good boy.” You grind down on him.

Being in your 30s has never been so sweet.

TAGLIST

@liaaacantwrite @kittenlittle24 @kaitaesupremacy @butler-trouble @eliseinmemphis @russian-soft-bitch  @tattywood

@sassanoe  @thella @suspiciousmidge @hiddlepiddlediddlewiddle @carolinesbookworld @juggernort @aesthetic-lyss @stitchattacks @donnamarie23 

 @littlebitofgreen @paigevis @bugg06 @xhannahbananax03 @artlover8992

@18lkpeters @frozenhuntress67 @girlblogger2002 @kendralavon7 @misspresley 

@be-my-ally @whositmcwhatsit @vintageshanny @ellie-24 @thatbanditqueen @powerofelvis @from-memphis-with-love

@precious-little-scoundrel @stylespresleyhearted @prompted-wordsmith @crash-and-cure @elvisgf @lookingforrainbows @fic-over-cannon @godlypresley @ab4eva @whatstruthgottodowithit @elvisabutler @ amydarcimarie @idontwanttoputanything  @callieselvisobsessed @captainamerica1235-blog  @xenaspace3-blog 

@simplyamberj @claire-elvisgirl @everythingelvispresley @louisejoy86 

[foxymoxynoona]

Hi Foxy! The drabble game is such a fun idea! Do you think you could write idol!jk with a fan? It could be him feeling attracted to her, or them hooking up, or maybe their first meeting... I really don't have any particular request, the stage is yours! I'm really curious about how you'd approach it because you have a talent for writing the cutest but also oddly realistic scenarios. I love you and happy anniversary!

I thought this would be a nice little fluffy tease for Valentine's Day to express my love back to you, I hope you enjoy it!

Characters: Idol Jungkook x Fan Y/N Words: 3k CW: none

You’re not surprised your friends bailed on you when the choice came up between Angel Tribute and Mavis McAdams, but you’re still disappointed. They knew the band –a deceptively named trio of three artists Mavis, Makena, and Adam– topped your list of favorite bands ever. But they were smaller than Angel Tribute, so when push came to shove, you were left on your own to see your favorite group. And you hated being alone. 

Especially right now, when you are positive that Jeon Jungkook of BTS is standing right in front of you.

You didn’t think anything of him at first. He was just another body in the space around you where you’ve found a little area for yourself, not up in the pit but a little further back where there’s breathing room. It wasn’t so crowded back here, and you liked the flexibility of being able to stand or sit; there was only one row of seats in front of you before a small aisle, which kept you from feeling too trapped. But you were still close to the front, close enough to feel a part of the music, and you’d been happily swaying and singing along under your breath to the first song when he slid into the space directly in front of you, joining the man who had already been there.

The man you were now convinced was a bodyguard. Or maybe a manager? An assistant? You didn’t actually know how those things worked. Before you recognized him, neither man meant anything to you except that now you were annoyed that your view was blocked. 

Just as you considered leaning forward and asking them to leave a little space for you to see through, the newly arrived man had looked to the side and– ok, you didn’t know which thing it was that had made you suspicious, but the combination of a few things had. The face mask and snapback hadn’t, there were plenty of people around these days in such attire, but the profile even with the mask had made you pause. The earrings in the ear –well, you were at a music festival, but regular guys didn’t usually have so many hoops. You wouldn’t even admit it on your deathbed but the freckle on the side of his neck made you start to suspect– and then the eyes. The eyes in the shadow between hat and mask had to be him, you were 98% sure of it. 

Instantly you abandoned your idea of suggesting they move. They didn’t need to move. For just this moment, you were perfectly ok with Jeon Jungkook of BTS blocking your view as you mulled over your options. You could obviously ask for an autograph, but the thought of doing so flooded you with embarrassment. You certainly wouldn’t ask for a picture, even worse, but taking a sneaky photo to keep as a memento just seemed so creepy and invasive. 

The other option, and the one that seemed best to you, was to pretend you did not know who he was and enjoy this moment of your life in which you were going to enjoy a Mavis McAdams concert staring at the back of Jungkook’s neck. He had a really nice neck. He must have had a haircut recently, the hairline was really neat. You missed the long hair but it seemed to grow quickly for him and he’d gone that route multiple times so probably it would be long again soon. It was good you weren’t seeing it long. That would be too much for you to stay chill about.

A new song started, an old favorite of yours, and you sang quietly along –much more quietly than you had a moment ago since the voice of a generation was standing in front of you. But it must have been loud enough to embarrassingly draw attention, or maybe it was the dance moves you couldn’t quite help because you just really loved this song. Your eyes were closed, you didn’t think you’d accidentally hit him, but when you opened your eyes you realized he was looking over his shoulder.

At you.

You bit back the squeak of surprise and tried to just casually lean around him to see the band, as if you didn’t notice him at all.

“You can’t see.” 

Of course you didn’t assume he was talking to you, but when he said it again with a sort of flapping hand gesture in your direction, you realized he really was addressing you.

“Uh… well… no…”

He laughed and nudged the bodyguard, saying something rapidly in Korean that you couldn’t hope to follow with your handful of phrases. The bodyguard nodded and shifted over, leaving a clear space for you to see through.

“Oh, thank you.” You gave an awkward bow before regretting it; it felt like you’d just admitted you knew who he was and were familiar with Korean culture just because of liking K-pop and k-dramas. Which was the truth but god, embarrassing.

Jungkook and the bodyguard nodded and the next song starting grabbed their attention away from you.

It was definitely more enjoyable to actually be able to see the performance and you marveled at his thoughtfulness for even noticing. Even when more people packed into the seats, the bodyguard kept the space in between them clear for you. It was a little annoying though because while you were happy standing and dancing, the people around you were dancing a little more wildly and kept bumping into you, disrupting your enjoyment. You tried to ignore it but a particular hard jab in your back made your voice hitch as you were singing.

Jungkook glanced back at you, chin tilted up to see you under the brim of his hat. He beckoned with his hand like it was a rush and pointed down at the seat in between him and Bodyguard.

What the fuck.

In no world would you refuse to take him up on that though. With a mixture of relief and abject terror, you stepped over the back of the seat, flattered when the bodyguard held a hand up to steady you as if you were one of his charges. He asked Jungkook something that was dismissed with a shake of the head. Maybe an offer to switch seats? Jungkook didn’t think it was necessary? You didn’t care if you projected that all over them. 

It was like fireworks going off in your head as you tried to play it cool and focus your enthusiasm on the music. There was more space to move here without bumping or getting bumped. Jungkook was vibing too, swaying and grinning, sometimes singing along. You tried not to look at him and be awkward but occasionally you’d feel his grin and glance at him. The eye contact made you both laugh. The singing together, the dancing, you were at this concert with him. The craziness of it didn’t quite fade away but it shifted into something more joyful and less shy. He wasn’t an idol right now, he was just another fan, and meeting someone else who knew all the lyrics to the B-sides was really exciting as a music lover.

“You like this song? You know it!” he beamed, like he was impressed by your knowledge, like he was thinking all the same things right now.

“I can’t sing well, sorry, don’t listen to me!”

“No, it’s good. You are good. It’s very cool.”

You didn’t think your singing was good nor cool, especially not to someone who sang like Jungkook, but it was kind of him to say so. It made you feel less self conscious about relaxing and enjoying yourself. Why not? Ok, your singing was fine, and it was all in good fun because you were just enjoying the music, just like he was. It wasn’t worth being nervous over.

The songs played out and before you knew it, they were announcing their last song. You couldn’t help the groan of disappointment.

“Are they your favorite band?” Jungkook asked you. “I like them so much.”

“They’re definitely one of them. I’ve seen them twice before but never at a festival like this. The first time was in this really small venue, it felt so intimate.” You broke off, realizing you were rambling, but how could you not?

“I love them too. I saw them one time. They opened for…” You couldn’t hear who he said over the surge of music and the crowd but nodded anyway. A fan. He was a fan and it was really cool to know that about him, for him to share that love with him.

Halfway through the song, he leaned around you to say something to the bodyguard, then pulled his mask up. You could tell instantly by his body language he was leaving, probably before the band finished and the crowd around you looked somewhere other than the stage. He might get swarmed. You understood but hated for everything to be wrapping up already.

You certainly didn’t expect him to nudge your arm and lean down to say, “Come on, let’s go.”

“Huh, what?”

He lifted his chin again to look at you and his eyes were sparkling and ok look, you weren’t going to tell him no. So you pulled your bag onto your shoulder and shoved your water bottle inside, checked your pocket for your phone, and followed Jungkook and his bodyguard.

Obviously you had no idea where you were going so you stuck close, fully expecting the bodyguard to shove you away at any second. Or someone else to materialize and do it, a manager or something. But no one did, and that’s how you wound up following Jeon Jungkook to the backstage area. The guards at the security checkpoint waved him through and you as well when Jungkook said,

“She’s with me, bro.”

God I wish.

He paused to look around and spoke with the bodyguard for a moment before leading the way to a tent behind the stage McMavis had just performed on. You could hear the crowd cheering for the encore as you followed but as much as you regretted missing it, you wouldn’t have missed this for the world. You looked around in surprise, recognizing a few other VIPs, but you didn’t want to get left behind and unceremoniously kicked out.

The bodyguard grabbed two waters from a cooler and handed them to you each and your Korean gamsahamnida made them both grin.

“You speak Korean?”

“No no, that’s all I know,” you quickly said.

“I will say ‘she is my translator.’”

“Your English is really good. You don’t need one, huh?”

He tugged his mask down so you could see his grin as he laughed, “Ok, thank you. It’s not very good but thank you.”

“I think it is.”

The bodyguard got his attention and you both looked over to see McMavis moving towards a tent further aware, bouncing around and amped from their show.

“Ah, ok. It is embarrassing if they say no,” he told you before setting off after them. Say no to what?

There wasn’t long to wait to find out. They’d just collapsed on the couches in their tent as a stage manager told them they had twenty minutes to decompress until their fan-meeting event; you could see and hear them through the gauzy curtains as Jungkook’s bodyguard said something to the woman by the entrance.

“Yes!” Mavis shouted. “I heard that! BTS? Someone from BTS is here?”

Jungkook gave you a nervous smile like he was nervous about meeting them. You just followed dumbly along as he ducked into the tent, nodding and bowing as Mavis, Makena, and Adam all jumped to their feet to greet him.

“She is my translator,” he said without forgetting you. “Also a fan. Me too. Your show is so great.”

“Yes it was really wonderful. You’re amazing live,” you gushed. Secretly praying no one was about to ask you to translate anything. Oh god. Would Jungkook play along if you had to speak fake Korean to him? Would you just give it up and confess? You thought he wasn’t capable of lying so why was he lying right now?! What the hell??

No one cared, clearly. They were too busy gushing over Jungkook, the artists all trading praise, talking about other acts at the festival. You felt simultaneously like a third wheel and perfectly at ease, because despite your expectations, no one was actually shooting out god-rays right now. If you didn’t know how talented and famous these people were, they were just people raving about music they liked, enjoying a beautiful day at a music festival. How could this seem so normal and so surreal at the same time?

Probably because he’d marked you as a translator you were mostly ignored, which was fine by you, but occasionally Jungkook would gesture to you as if prompting you to say something and include yourself. You mentioned the other shows you’d been to. You answered what your favorite song was and flustered when Jungkook nodded, “Me too. It’s mine too.” 

All too soon, their manager was telling them they needed to get to their fan meeting. You leapt out of the way as the band members and Jungkook assembled for a photo without any prompting, like it was just something they were familiar with. You almost offered to take it but an assistant and Jungkook’s bodyguard had it covered.

Jungkook reached forward, grabbed your wrist, and pulled you into the frame after they’d already taken a couple. You had half a second to wonder oh no am I going to get doxxed on the internet if these photos make it online before deciding you didn’t give a shit. That wasn’t real right now. What was real was that Jungkook had been thoughtful enough to include you.

Belatedly you realized you hadn’t taken one with your own phone but the band was already saying goodbye, their manager ushering them away. They hadn’t even really taken their break and there were other people lingering outside the tent trying to get their attention but it was obvious to you they had spent their time exactly how they wanted to. ARMY were everywhere, after all.

You, Jungkook, and the bodyguard moved out of the tent and you realized awkwardly you didn’t know what to do now. The obvious thing was to go but it’s not like you wanted to go.

“I have to go,” Jungkook said, looking at something on his phone. He thrust it towards you and you were confused enough to take it from him. He had it open to the New Message screen, cursor blinking in the “To:” field.

“I will send the picture.”

“Oh! Right.” Yes, of course, obviously that made sense. You typed your number in and handed it back. 

“Ok, goodbye. I have to go but just wait, ok? I will send it.”

“Yeah, of course. Sure. And oh my god, thank you for bringing me back here and um, enjoy the rest of the festival!”

He was laughing and you didn’t quite know why but he smiled and nodded and pressed his hands together, “Yes. Thank you. Have fun too. Talk back to me.”

You nodded. He was gone so fast, bodyguard closing behind him as he set off. He did look like he had somewhere to be. You did not and your mind was blown about this whole thing. You were too flustered to even think about the fact you were unsupervised in the VIP backstage section right now. 

Paranoid you were going to get kicked out since you didn’t have a lanyard anyway, you walked quickly out of security and didn’t stop until you’d found a place you could step out of the way and guzzle the water bottle. You pulled your phone out of your pocket to text your friends, or at least see if they’d texted you.

You did have messages, but not from your deadbeat friends. Already! You already had a message!

[unknown]: what is your name?

[y/n]: y/n

[JJK]: ok 

[JJK]: [group photo]

[JJk]: thank you for hanging out

[y/n]: no thank you for taking me backstage with you! It was a dream come true to meet them. that was really thoughtful and cool of you even just to make sure I could see

[JJK]: the view is important at a concert so we both had a better view

You froze. You stared. 

No. Was he… flirting?!!? Impossible. You must be misunderstanding. You had to be misunderstanding!

[y/n]: It was perfect

[y/n]: thank you for trusting me enough to message me the photo but also shouldn’t you not trust people you just met???

[JJK]: why not

[JJK]: my name is JK you can put it in your phone

Lord have mercy. 

[JJK]: I do not give my phone number but it is nice to meet you so I did

[y/n]: Nice to meet you too JK thanks for hanging out

[your friend]: hey where are you? McMavis done? You ready to meet up?

You hesitated. Your original excitement to tell them about meeting Jungkook was still bubbling, but in light of the fact he had given you his phone number and was flirting you decided maybe you wouldn’t share that part of your day with them. Not yet anyway. 

You told your friends where you’d meet them and looked at your phone again.

[JJK]: what bands do you like? Suggest music to me

[y/n]: ok you too

[y/n]: have you heard of…

Your stomach bubbled with anticipation as you went to meet your friends. Maybe this would be nothing. He’d stop texting you suddenly and that would be that. He’d get a new phone and lose your number. He’d text you for the rest of the festival but then block you and move on. You had zero expectations he would keep talking to you. Why would he?

But you hadn’t expected to see him. Or to sing and dance with him. Or to meet McMavis with him. Definitely not for him to take a photo with you –which you now had!-- and allow you access to his phone number. That gesture of faith meant so much to you. You wouldn’t disappoint him. 

You held your phone with your secret close to your chest and went to meet your friends.