#and I think there's 3 to 5 more chapters before we finish this baby!

[harmonictechnicality]

Summary: This is the most memorable Thanksgiving holiday Steve Harrington has ever had. Is it the best one? No fucking way - the Wheelers made macaroni casserole from scratch one year and gave Steve all of the leftovers. That was the Best Thanksgiving. But this night is by far the most Memorable Thanksgiving: finding out his dead friend is alive-ish and has superpowers? Seriously, just when Steve thought he had put the magical monster shit behind him, it creeps back into his life. Steve is a magnet for demons and weirdos and chaos. Eddie happens to be the trifecta.

[smusherina]

yard work - chapter 11 (regina george x reader)

fandom: Mean Girls (all media)

pairing: Regina George x OFC/Reader

summary: You'd been in the same class as Regina George since kindergarten. You'd lived on the same street even longer. Once upon a time, when life was sandbox disputes and who got the swing first arguments, you'd even been friends. Now, in junior year of high school, you doubted she even remembered you. The same couldn't be said about you. You definitely remembered her.

chapter 1 / chapter 2 / chapter 3 / chapter 4 / chapter 5 / chapter 6 / chapter 7 / chapter 8 / chapter 9 / chapter 10 / chapter 12

Making the scrapbook was cathartic. Remembering the good times, the innocence of your childhood, was as much of a joy as it was painful. The pictures were all quite good quality since Abuela had had a film camera. Some photos had been taken with a digital camera, which had probably originally belonged to the Georges and ended up in your possession somewhere along the way.

Regina and yourself playing in the Georges' backyard and swimming in their pool, beaming smiles directed at the camera. You could almost hear the laughter. I miss when we used to be able to just have fun together like this. I guess it's a part of growing up.

Regina in a white frilly dress, carrying a small basket of flower petals, donning a crown of roses on her head. She was pouting, clearly unimpressed by the whole thing. You hadn't been at the wedding since it was a George event, but Regina's mom had been so elated her daughter had gotten to be the flower girl. I remember I was so jealous you got to go to a wedding and I couldn't. You hated it, though, which was funny. You used to leave the room whenever your mom insisted we watch the tape. I wonder if she still has it.

You sitting with Regina, hip to hip, on plastic chairs while a newlyborn Kylie slept in your laps. Regina, eyes stuck on her baby sister and a thoughtful look on her face, while you looked at the camera with a smile. She's growing up so fast. Don't think I don't know you care about her. There's gonna be a time you'll regret not spending time with her. I already feel it.

Mrs George, Abuela, Regina, Kylie in her mom's arms, and you grouped together at a parking lot. You and Regina had on little graduation gowns and had scrolls in your hands. Elementary school graduation. The summer before middle school. End of an era. I love your mom's clothes, they're so nineties. Does she still have those jeans? You should get ahold of them before somebody else does...

Remember when I sliced my hand open when we were peeling apples? That was a time for sure. I still have the scar!

You taped pictures onto the pages, wrote little things here and there, hoping the labour of your love wouldn't end up in the garbage. Or if it did, Regina would read skim through it first.

I think this album was the first time we agreed on music. Britney Spears really brought us together, huh? We even learned the choreography of Baby One More Time. Mrs George loved it. I bet there's a video of that somewhere.

Mostly the scrapbook was filled with anecdotes about your childhoods together. You did write a letter of sorts on the first page, regarding your intentions with the whole thing.

I made this for you to commemorate the good times we had. You know me regrettably well, so I think you know how I tend to hold onto things. I still have that gaudy pink Build-A-Bear you made me for Valentine's Day that one time. It's one of my most important possessions, only second to the memories we have together. You'll always be a friend to me, Reggie. If not forever, or from now on, then back then. I love you. Yours, Jorts.

You'd pretty much finished the whole thing by the end of the weekend. You spent Monday and Tuesday decorating the front cover, mostly because you purposefully put it off. You cut out letters from magazines and glued them there, painstakingly forming the words Reggie & Jorts. You'd tried to come up with something clever, but making a pun or a dumb joke felt like cheapening the whole album. A simple name made up for with fabulous decorations!

You weren't much of a painter, but you figured it'd be fitting if the album reflected its contents. It was fine if the roses you painted looked like a five-year-old did them. A good majority of the pictures featured you and Regina huddled around a crafts table, similar projects scattered all around you, young with clumsy hands but filled with artistic passion.

The album in itself was an earthy green colour, something Regina undoubtedly found ugly. The flowers brightened it up somewhat, but there was only so much ages-old acrylic paints could do. You outlined some with Sharpies. If you didn't know better, one could assume it looked like that on purpose.

You took it with you to school on Wednesday. You had it weighing your backpack down the whole day. You sweated under all your layers, and by the end of it, you were sure you were sporting some epic pit stains. Gross, but you were so nervous. You hadn't broken into anyone's locker in so long. And it was Regina George's locker.

You loitered around the hallways as they emptied out steadily, people heading home or off to extracurriculars. As you approached Regina's locker, you swallowed down your nervousness and got to work.

It wasn't hard. The combination locks were all old and weak, more of a formality than an actual barrier between one's stuff and a burglar. The lock clicked open easily and you wasted no time in stuffing your album inside.

"Hey!" Just as the resounding click of the lock going back into place came, a voice called out to you. "What are you doing with Regina's locker?"

"Uhh..." Gretchen Wieners stood at the intersection of hallways, hands on her hips and accusatory eyes burning holes in you. You made the swift decision that you did not have time for this. You booked it.

"Hey! Get back here!" Gretchen, surprisingly considering her heels, started after you. "What did you put in it? You cannot prank Regina, or- or, oh, was it a bomb?"

"It's not a bomb!" You shouted over your shoulder, sprinting towards the exit. The aggressive clacking of Gretchen's heels on the floors as she ran after you would surely haunt your nightmares. How could she even keep up with you?

"If it's not a bomb then what!" How was she closing in on you? It seemed like she was not even fazed by your little race, meanwhile, you were already winded. The exit was not that far away, but it felt like miles.

"It's Regina's business now! Ask her tomorrow at school or something!" The doors to freedom approached. "Stop chasing me!"

"Stop running!"

"No!"

You burst out and quickly hopped down the stairs, two at a time. Gretchen was still on your tail, but once she got to the top of the stairs shouted: "Karen! Tackle her!"

You hadn't even noticed Karen fucking Shetty. There was no not noticing her when the girl sprinted at you with perfect athletic form and squashed you like a linebacker.

You collided and flew into the snow. Better than the concrete of the footpath but it still hurt like a bitch.

"Get off of me!" You tried to get out from under her, but Karen was surprisingly dense. She was small but it was as if there were stones in her body instead of organs. "Fuck!"

"Keep her there, Karen, very good."

"Thanks!" Karen beamed, which was a much more common expression on her than the bloodlust she'd shown earlier.

"This has nothing to do with you." You snarled, still wriggling. "This is between Regina and me."

"Whatever's between Regina is between us," Gretchen said, all hoity-toity. "Now, tell me exactly what you put in her locker."

"A fucking photo album." You hissed, closing your eyes and clenching your jaw. What lie could you come up with? "Our families used to know each other. It's mostly pictures of her, so I just thought to... Return it."

"Oh, that's so nice!" Karen's hold loosened and you went to escape.

"Nuh-uh, not good enough." Just like that, Karen's weight slammed back down onto you. Your breath wooshed out of your lungs.

"What more do you want?" You wheezed out, getting sick and tired of this.

"Why was it in your possession?"

"I don't fucking know! It just was!"

"Hmm. And why couldn't you just give it to her?"

"You think that would've gone well, Gretchen? Seriously?" You turned your head with great effort, staring up at the girl. "Please, just let me go."

"I don't think I believe you." Gretchen squatted next to your head. "We're going back and checking it's what you say it is. And then you might be free to go."

"Fuck you." You hissed but made no move to book it when Karen hauled you up.

"That's not very nice." Karen pointed out.

"I don't want to be nice to Gretchen right now." You had no real issue with Karen, even if she had just tackled you.

"Oh, okay." You couldn't see her when she was holding your wrists behind your back, but you could imagine she was bobbing her head up and down like she was known to do.

You were walked back into the building, going mostly without a fight. Gretchen strutted along proudly as if capturing you was some great victory. Regina had trained her well. You weren't sure if that was impressive or just sad.

"Open it." Gretchen gestured once you were back at Regina's locker.

"I need my hands to do that." You helped out, smiling at Gretchen like she was stupid. Sputtering and offended, she instructed Karen to let go.

Instead of running like you should've, taking the chance you could get out if Karen didn't get a one-up on you, you obediently cracked the code again. Was it selfish that you kind of wanted others to know about you and Regina? Was it totally horrible of you to want to know it was real and have proof of that? Well, if it was, there was no helping it.

Gretchen snatched the album from the locker before you could even think to touch it. Karen sidled up to her, peering over her shoulder as she opened it.

You stood by, waiting for their judgement and looking at the ceiling. There'd been a water leak right there, based on the discolouration. Gross.

"You... You're J. J is for Jorts." Gretchen said. She sounded weird, like hollow or something. "J is for Jorts." She said again, breathy and disbelieving.

"What?" What the fuck was going on?

Karen spoke then. "She talks about J a lot. Like, a lot a lot. A whole lot." You nodded slowly as Karen went on. "J's like, her true love. It's so cute."

"J is not her true love, Karen! They are both girls." Gretchen pointed out. You had to agree. "Are they?" She looked you up and down judgementally.

"Yes. I am a girl." You said. It was true, you were female and around the age that it was acceptable to be referred to as a girl. Even so, it made you distinctly uncomfortable.

"Hmm." Gretchen didn't seem to believe you. Karen was busy cooing at the pictures of small Regina. It was sheer luck they hadn't bothered to read your writings.

"Look, can I go now? I know I'm busted, you're probably gonna confiscate the album, and Regina will never see it. Happy?"

"No. Karen, please put it back in the locker." Gretchen said, not taking her eyes off of you. Karen did as asked with a pout. "What is your relationship with Regina?" The album was back in the locker, but it hadn't been locked again.

"Nothing." And that was true. There was nothing there anymore.

"That's a lie and you know it. If you're J, then you've known each other at least since middle school. Based on the pictures, even longer."

"Who is J?" You asked in exasperation.

"Somebody who she has protected for years now. Somebody who is always better than we could ever be." Gretchen pointed between herself and Karen. "J is important to her."

"Okay, well, good for J, I guess."

"You're so infuriating." Gretchen sighed, pinching the skin between her eyes.

"You aren't the first to tell me that."

"Of course, because Regina has said that to you. Because you've known each other forever. Because you're J."

"Listen, I may look a bit butch, but I have a perfectly ordinary girl name."

"That is not the point!" She spoke fast and high-pitched. "You. It's you. You've been under our noses this entire time! Do you realize how much easier things could've been if you were around?"

"Excuse me?" Now, you were really lost.

"You're excused," Karen said cheerfully. You nodded to her in thanks.

"We could never be as good as you. It was like we were placeholders for the ultimate pretty girl she'd somehow let slip. And it's you. In a flannel and hoodie, ratty jeans, dirty shoes, no fashion sense to speak of. It's you." She said that last part with contempt.

You were reeling. Regina had talked about you to these two. Had compared them to you, cited that you were better. For years she'd done that. She'd never forgotten about you.

"Look, Gretchen, I'm sorry Regina's treated you badly." You'd lost the need to defend her, even still. Then again, even if you hadn't, there was little you could argue about with the two she'd tormented the most. "You can probably tell this is something Regina doesn't want coming out."

"What does that matter?" Gretchen asked, eyes far away and legs beginning to pace. "We could- could finally bring her down. Yes. We have J, we have everything she wants. She'll come grovelling."

You took a deep breath. You didn't feel angry, you were too tired to get angry at mean girls at this point. Besides, nobody could rile you up like Regina.

"You're wrong." You put it plainly. "What Regina's been doing to these people, to everyone around her, is wrong. But what I find despicable is how everybody is the same. I know her reasons, I can sympathise with her, but I can't say the same for you. So tell me." You paused to take a deep breath. "Why?"

"I'm not good at riddles, I'm sorry." Karen said, looking genuinely apologetic.

"It's okay, Karen, Gretchen can answer for you both."

"She deserves it." Gretchen said, steel in her tone.

"You sound just like Cady Heron and Janis 'Imi'ike. She hurt them too. What do you think ruining her life will achieve?"

"I'll be the new Regina George."

"Do you hear yourself? You still idolize her. If you're gonna be the new Regina George, it's always going to be a Regina George world. Don't you want to be Gretchen Wieners?"

"No!" She screeched. "Gretchen Wieners is lame, boring, too eager, a slut, desperate-" She took a deep breath.

"Okay." You said. "Why? Because Regina said so? Why would you believe her? She's just the same as you. Look," You pulled the album back out.

"Here we're in the Georges' pool. She would not go to the deep end. Y'know, she refused to even go in without those arm floaties for the longest time. Eventually, some boy made fun of her for them and that was the last time.

"And in this one we're driving back from summer camp. Regina was already tall enough to go without a booster seat, but I wasn't. She'd just thrown the biggest tantrum 'cause Mrs George didn't allow her to take off her seatbelt to sleep. She went out like a light, anyway.

"We're in Six Flags there. We'd just gotten those ice creams and you can see that Regina's isn't sticking to the cone all that well. Right after the shot, it just slid off. Regina was inconsolable. I offered her mine so we could share, and that seemed to be good enough for her but her dad was not having it. He threatened to take us home if she didn't stop crying right then, that it'd be all her fault that their whole family wasted money and time on this stupid trip. Eventually she calmed down and Mr George didn't have to drive us back."

You sighed. "I already tried this with Janis, in a way. I don't think Regina would appreciate me airing out her personal life like this, but... I don't know..." You closed your eyes for a moment. "I just want people to stop making things worse for her. She's been so wrong for so long, and I know I can't keep defending her, but I just don't think revenge will make her regret anything that she's done."

Karen hummed. "My auntie's been teaching me about karma. So, like, if she feels what she's made others feel, then won't that like... Fix her?"

"I don't want to hurt her." You said, resolute. "Maybe, it could be the most effective way to make her see her shortcomings. But I don't want to. I do not want to hurt her." You looked between the two. "And that's where we differ, I guess."

Gretchen didn't say anything, eyes glued to a picture from the Six Flags trip. Regina had mustard and ketchup smeared all over her face while she was holding a napkin to your lips, in the process of wiping your face.

With that, you snatched the album from her hands, deposited it back into the locker and slammed it shut. The lock clicked. Without a word, you began to talk towards the exit. Neither of them followed you or said anything to you.

You couldn't stop people from taking their revenge. You had done your best to be diplomatic. Evoking sympathy in hormonal teenagers wasn't something easily done, or maybe you were just shitty at it, but there was little else you could do. If you went ahead and retaliated, hurt them for hurting someone you cared about, the lines blurred.

You'd just be another mean girl.

Notes: Sorry for the delay! The next chapter will be the last one, unless I start rambling or something. After that, I'll do a less structured series of epilogues. Loosely related oneshots, that kinda vibe.

Also, my writing assistant stopped working in the middle of this, so if there's stupid typos I'll come fix them later.

I swear to fucking god if the taglist doesn't work I'll start breaking bones.

Taglist: @autorasexy, @wedfan2, @unadulterated-moron, @modernsapphicism , @9unknown0 , @sage-rose2000 , @massive-honkas , @nattys-swiftie , @likefirenrain , @luz-enjoyer , @dandelions4us , @natashamaximoff-69 , @alexkolax , @jareaul0ver , @here4theqts , @charleeeesworld , @natsbiggestfan1 , @brocoliisscared , @yellowwallflowers , @scarlettbitchx , @ayoungexwife , @cyberbonesworld , @syddie-reads , @screechcat , @theenglishswiftie , @gabby-duhh , @sweetmissnothing , @masterofpuppets-10 , @l1lass , @starved-mortal , @nothanksbye07 , @nenas19 , @jvuyii , @starry-night17 , @reneeswife24 , @glorioushamsterqueen , @krononan , @slug-on-bike , @rayisaknight , @chaseatlanticlover91 , @reginassweetheart , @mirage018

(this actually makes me angry. why. why doesnt it work. i type in the @ and then i type in the name and then it shows up in the lil' box and i click it but then it don't show up ;-;)

(this is cyber bullying. the cybers are bullying me.)

(anyway, if you want to be added to the taglist there is no gurantee if it'll work, but i'll add you if you want! just comment on this post :) if anybody has any ideas why it's like this, lmk!)

[berryhobii]

Reconnect (myg x reader)

Pairing: Idol!Min Yoongi x black!wedding designer!female! Reader

Word Count: 6K+

Warnings: fluff, established relationship, mentions of secret relationship, mentions of a wedding(but not Yoongi and the reader’s), reader and Yoongi are engaged, Smut(18+ but I don’t control what you consume), unprotected sex(please speak to your partners before engaging in this), vaginal sex, squirting, creampies, riding, doggy style, mating press/missionary, oral(f receiving), soft dom Yoongi(he’s super soft and vocal but also goes kind of rough😊), rough sex, multiple orgasms(f and m receiving), brief aftercare and mentions of amazing aftercare, reader has goddess locs(color and length not specified), reader also has that Wendy’s Strawberry Lemonade kitty, reader also also has nipple piercings, reader got a fat ass because who doesn’t appreciate a nice booty?

A/N: Hi! This is my second time uploading something. I’ve had this story in my drafts for a while. I had been writing it using she/her pronouns so I’ve been spending the past few days to change those to you/yours. If I missed any, I’m sorry but please let me know so I can make the story more cohesive. Reader is black but their skin color isn’t really described but I believe I referred to their nipples being dark so that’s it. My next post with either be a GreekMythology!Jimin or a Gamer!Jungkook. The Jimin story is actually really long so I think I’ll turn it into a small series but I’ll post the 1st chapter sometime next week. Thanks again for reading! Criticism is greatly accepted and I hope my black and melanated girlies feel good reading this! Have a good day.

~

“I’m sorry, baby. I know I said we’d have dinner but we have to do some last minute recording.”

You tried not to sound disappointed when you replied. “That’s okay. I understand.” And you truly did. You knew how important his job was and that it would be a priority of his.

You just wished that it didn’t take so much of his time. You understood that his music was his life and that it was his dream career. All of his hard work had led up to being able to do what he does now; to make music and inspire the millions of fans that listened. You were so proud of him. Seeing him live his dream filled you with a different kind of pride and emotion. He was happy and that’s all you ever wanted for him.

Still, you missed him. You two had barely spent any time together the past month while he’s been preparing for their new album. He’d come home long after you’d fallen asleep and he’d sleep into the afternoon, just to rise and immediately get ready to go again. You couldn’t even have breakfast together like you used to. You could barely even start a conversation before he was cutting you off with a kiss and rushing out of the door.

While you had your own career of designing wedding dresses, you still had so much free time on your hands. You had already designed your newest collection and it was currently in production to be created. You’ve even made multiple visits to a few stores and they were running amazingly. There was only so long you could bury yourself in work before your heart began yearning for Yoongi’s companionship.

“I promise when this is finished, we’ll go on a trip. Just you and me.”

That made you smile. You and Yoongi have traveled a lot together over the years; Bora Bora, Italy, The Maldives—and each experience had been just as memorable and romantic as the last. He proposed to you in Italy at the Orange Gardens. It was such a magical moment. Just thinking about it made you want to cry. The entire trip was just absolutely perfect; from taking a gondola ride on the gorgeous waters to the 5 Star hotel they stayed in for 3 days and 2 nights, all the way to the candlelit dinner where he got down on one knee. You remember it fondly.

While the promise of a trip together didn’t fix your loneliness now, it gave you something to look forward to.

You couldn’t fight the smile in your voice. “Okay.” Your eyes went over to the stove where dinner was cooking. You had just finished searing some steaks that were finishing up in the oven. There was no point of putting them away for him to eat later. They wouldn’t be as flavorful or tender.

“Hey, is it okay if I bring you some dinner? I know you haven’t eaten yet.” Your tone shifted to one of slight teasing but you knew you were right. His pause of silence was proof enough.

“You don’t have to do that, baby.”

“I want to though. I made steak and I’ll feel better knowing you’ve eaten. I won’t stay long or distract you.” Just knowing he had a home cooked meal would make you happy. You would nag him constantly about drinking too much coffee and eating take out. It came from a place of love, however and Yoongi never minded. He loved having someone so attentive to his health when he’d blatantly ignore it. It showed you cared. Also, he secretly loved being babied by you. He’d never admit it out loud or to his friends but you knew. There was nothing better than coming home, a bath prepared for him to soothe his sore muscles, a meal on the table, and cuddling into your soft breasts while your rubbed his back—always being careful with his shoulder.

Your already nurturing nature and tendency to baby Yoongi increased tenfold once he got surgery. You barely let him leave the bed, even following him to the bathroom to make sure he didn’t hurt himself. A little bit stifling but he was so grateful to you. You always took care of him.

“Then that sounds great. I’ll leave my door open for you. I love you, baby.”

“I love you too. See you soon.”

With a giddy pep in your step, you finished cooking dinner, packaging it nicely in cute Tupperware before putting it in a bag. You had already showered and your clothes were fine but you wondered if you should put on something different. While Yoongi thought you looked good in anything, you still liked to look pretty for him; wearing dresses and heels whenever you went out, keeping your nails and toes done, and making appointments to get waxed every month. Self care was important to you. It not only made you feel good about yourself but it was also something you just liked to do for your husband.

Deciding to change your clothes, you slipped on a t shirt maxi dress that hugged and showed off all of your curves, along with some short open toed shoes to show off your freshly painted white toes. It was simple but still dressy and feminine, just your style.

Checking your hair once more in the mirror and smearing on some lip gloss, you grabbed the bag of food and your keys before exiting your home.

~

HYBE Studios was a pretty moderate drive from your apartment. The reason for that is to keep crazy fans from ever finding it. Once the company realized other idols were having their homes broken into, there was a decision to move all of the boys about 30 minutes from the company in a luxury gated neighborhood. You had to admit, you missed your old apartment you shared with Yoongi since that was their first place together but you also couldn’t complain about the walk in closet and the jacuzzi bathtub.

You greeted the security guard in front of the car garage, him lifting the block to the garage. After parking close to the company cars that were often used to transport the boys during RunBTS, you exited your car and made your way through the side door to the lobby.

You nodded at the secretary, everyone already knowing who you were and letting you pass with no issue.

Yoongi’s studio was on the 8th floor at the end of the hall. Namjoon’s was just a short distance away as well.

Once you reached his door, you entered the pin code on the keypad. Besides a few staff members and the boys, you were one of the few with the password to his studio. He just preferred silence and no disruptions so the code was only used during emergencies or whenever you or the boys came to visit. There was also a group chat for everyone with his code, adorably named ‘The Plastics’, courtesy of Taehyung. If they ever needed to come to his studio, they’d send a text beforehand so he’d know to expect them.

The beep sounded and you opened the door, smiling at the sight of your husband who was cutely leaned over on his right palm as his eyes scanned the production screen for his music. You didn’t get most of it but you always found it adorable when he’d try to explain. He’d get so invested in telling you how reverb and delay could either make or break a song that he’d never see how endearingly you’d stare at him. And he’d always get surprised when you’d lunge to bite his cheek.

“You are just too adorable! I have to bite you!”

His headphones were around his neck so he turned at the sound of his door opened, a smile immediately rising to his face at the sight of you. He removed his headphones, standing to greet you.

You could barely put the food down before his hands were around you waist, pulling you in for a hug. You wrapped your arms around his neck, cuddling into his body as you inhaled his cologne and the gentle scent of his favorite body wash.

He pulled away a little to press a few pecks to your forehead. “Hi baby.” His deep, slightly tired voice sent shivers down you spine. It was almost like his regular voice was just his morning voice constantly and out of all of the little things you loved about him, his voice was towards the top of your list—right after his newly grown out hair, his hands, and that little habit of him slurping whenever he’d explain things.

You inhaled a deep breath, basking in the affection. “Hi.”

You two just held each other for a moment, locked in an embrace and not wanting to let go. This was your special kind of intimacy, just not speaking or moving, simply holding one another.

Yoongi considered himself a pretty private person. A little ironic considering he was a world famous idol who’s whole job was being put in the spotlight. However, when it came to his personal relationships, he did his best to keep that as private as possible. Just imagine the uproar when people found out he was engaged. You had been hidden from the public eye for 3 straight years before you got engaged. How? One part extreme luck, the other part moving quietly. Your relationship started off with you meeting for the first time at a staff member’s wedding. You had designed her dress and she was so amazed and in love with how you created her dream dress that she insisted you come to her wedding. Always happy to see people overjoyed with your work and excited to see your design in action, of course you agreed. Coincidentally, you were sat pretty close to the table the boys were at. When you recognized them, you softly smiled and introduced yourself, expressing how you were a fan and how many women said they were using BTS songs as their wedding songs. Yoongi was drawn in instantly, your gentle voice and sparkling eyes as you talked about your clients drew him in. He could tell you were passionate about your career, just like he was.

After exchanging numbers while the bride and groom were cutting the cake, you two mainly texted and called each other in your free time. It took about 4 months for you to go on their first date since Yoongi had to go to America for promotions. He thought you’d lose interest since he traveled and couldn’t take you on a proper date but you never minded. You liked talking to Yoongi and found yourself developing feelings for him. He was trying and effort was one of your biggest green flags for a partner. A little distance wasn’t that big of a deal to you. Of course, you wanted to be able to be close to him and hold his hand and maybe even kiss but you knew what you were signing up for when you started talking.

Once Yoongi went on break, he started dedicating a lot of time to you; dates, inviting you to his place for dinner and wine, and learning more about you. He didn’t think you would get along so well. Talking on the phone was vastly different than being in each other’s physical presence but you had melded together like the pieces of a puzzle. You were so gentle and compassionate, always looking after him and giving him affection he hasn’t gotten in years. You were perfect for him and vice versa.

Your eyes slowly blinked up at him, just taking in his handsome features. You could spot the bags under his eyes, feeling a little sad that he was running himself ragged.

“You look tired. Have you slept since his morning?”

He hummed. “I took a little nap around lunch. The new couch came in.” You turned a little to look at the new addition to his studio. Before, he just had a small leather couch, moreso for decoration than comfort. Once he got a bigger studio, he upgraded his furniture but kept that couch. After some prodding from you, he ordered a new and more comfortable couch—one that could become a pull out bed for those overnights at the studio.

“It looks great.” It was a dark grey color, wide and stretched enough to fully support 2 people if you wanted to spoon on it.

“Yeah. I just didn’t think it would take that long to get it in the door. Namjoon almost knocked over my synthesizer.” He said that with a shake of his head. You giggled, imagining the tall and clumsy man scrambling to pick up the keyboard.

“I can only imagine. I brought food. You should eat it before it gets cold. I should go.” You tried pulling away from him only for him to tighten his grip on your waist. You let out an “oof” as your face met the hard planes of his chest. All that physical therapy and time in the gym had really bulked him up. While you loved his body regardless, you definitely weren’t complaining about the extra muscle. He was filling out this black shirt just fine.

He nuzzled his nose in your neck, inhaling your favorite perfume that you’ve worn since he met your. It was one of his favorite scents. His hands rubbed up and down your back, feeling all over the material of your dress.

“No, stay. Eat with me.”

Yoongi could be very affectionate and straightforward when he wanted to be, normally when you were alone. He’d never show this side in public. Not because he was ashamed of his love for your, far from that. He just preferred to keep their intimate moments private. Maybe a little kiss here and there and some hand holding but moments like this were for you only.

Your manicured fingers went to his nape, scratching at the hair there. “I don’t want to distract you.”

“You’re not.” He pulled back to look you in eyes. “I want you to eat with me. I feel bad we couldn’t have dinner at home.” And he did. He knew his job demanded a lot of his time and attention and even if you understood that, it didn’t stop him from feeling guilty about leaving you alone all the time. He knew you could entertain yourself and had your own life outside of him but he still felt bad not being able to spend as much time with you as he wanted. He missed you just as much. While he loved his job, nothing beat coming home to your warmth and affection. To be honest, he was getting a little touch starved.

He led you over to the couch, waiting for your to sit before going to the mini fridge in his studio.

“Do you want juice?” He asked as he pulled out a couple of drinks. He always kept some of your favorites in his mini fridge just in case. You didn’t drink caffeine or really any alcohol, water and juices were your favorites.

You nodded your head, beginning to take out the Tupperware containers. They were still nice and hot. He placed a juice down on the table, along with an energy drink. You frowned at that, leaning forward to pick it up.

“You need to drink water. Don’t think I haven’t noticed those coffee cups on your desk.”

He rolled his eyes and sighed but couldn’t hide his smile. You were too good to him. Sometimes he felt like he didn’t deserve you. Taking the energy drink from you, he went back to the fridge to grab a water instead.

Ignoring the smug smile on your face, he sat next to you, waiting for you to open all of the containers. The smell was delicious, making his stomach growl.

Your handed him some chopsticks and a few napkins before sliding the steak over to him. “Here. Try it.”

You ate in silence, him using his chopsticks to place some pieces of steak and vegetables in your bowl. You smiled, the cute ways Yoongi showed he cared always making your heart warm. Fans knew he was more subtle in showing he cared and that wasn’t any different than him in private. You had to learn that his love language was acts of service but in a more quiet way.

After you finished eating, he helped clean up the containers, giving you some wipes to clean your hands and the table.

He let out of a groan as he sat back down on the couch, belly full and fully ready for a nap. But he knew he had to get back to work and that meant you had to leave.

“Thanks, baby. It was delicious.” His hand came to rest on your thigh, rubbing the soft skin. You hummed, placing your hand on top of his.

“Of course. I’m happy you liked it.” You both rested for a moment before you began moving. “I should go. You have work to do.”

You barely made it to your feet before he was tugging you back down on his lap. A surprised yelp came from your lips at the sudden movement, ass meeting his thighs when you landed. He situated you so that you straddled his hips, his hands immediately going to your ass.

“Baby….” You pouted, feeling a little shy all of a sudden. You were normally the one who initiated physical affection so for Yoongi to do it so roughly surprised you. You weren’t complaining, however. The way his eyes were hooded over and how he looked up at you with that dark endearment made your belly tingle. You knew where this was going.

“Stay.” His left hand pressed your body down so your chest squished against his. “You come here in this dress and my favorite shoes…”

You adjusted yourself to wrap your arms around his neck. “I hardly wear these.”

He shrugged. “I love anything you wear. You look so sexy.” His hand traveled up your dress, moving it up your ass so he could grope full handfuls of the fat. While Yoongi appreciated all parts of your body, your ass was his favorite. Genetics, exercise and a little bit of happy weight had all accumulated into jiggly ass he loved to squeeze and slap. When you met, you were pretty thin but in shape nonetheless. Fans speculated that you gained ‘happy relationship weight’ since Yoongi treats you right. Whatever the reason, he thanks the higher power every day for it.

You could feel the heat beginning to spark between you, along with Yoongi’s growing boner pressing against your panties. Now that you thought about it, it’s been a little while since you’ve been intimate. You and Yoongi have barely had any time for quickies, let alone a full session of sex. And you two could go for hours if you wanted. On the day of your engagement, you barely left the hotel room because you couldn’t keep your hands off him. How could you? He was your fiancé. Mmm, that word just got you hot and bothered.

Your hands ran up his neck and into his hair, scratching at his scalp. The low hum of contentment that came from him spurred you on. You brought your faces closer together, lips hovering before you trapped him in a kiss. He hummed again, lifting his head to kiss you deeper, hands still squeezing at your ass.

Your kiss grew more heady, both of your hands massaging each other and trying to stroke any piece of skin you could. Yoongi began pushing against you to make your roll your hips against him. His cock could probably cut glass from how hard he was. You always got him excited with barely doing anything. To be honest, he started getting hard the moment you entered the room. Just your presence got him feeling almost immediately horny.

And it was the same for you. Your cunt had began getting wet the moment Yoongi turned around in his chair. He just looked so comfortable and effortlessly sexy and the way his muscles strained against that shirt made your imagination run wild.

You pulled away to inhale a deep breath. “Yoongi….please…”

His lazy smirk sent a rush straight to your already wet pussy. “What do you need, baby? Tell me.”

God he was such a tease but you’d be lying if you said you didn’t absolutely love it.

“I need you.”

That was all he needed before he moved to flip you onto your back. You bounced against the soft couch cushions, barely getting your bearings before he was back on you, pressing his lips to yours.

His large hands traveled up your dress, lifting it over your belly and breasts. He leaned back to get a look, letting out a groan at the absolute beauty under him.

Your chest was heaving from just a little kissing, your goddess locks spread out under you, glossed lips plump and ready for more. You were so gorgeous and he made sure to let you know.

You squirmed under the compliment, feeling giddy and a bit bashful. You always received compliments and the occasional catcall and while you accepted the respectful ones gracefully, none of those ever mattered to you. Yoongi’s praise and compliments put you on cloud 9 and you really believed him.

His hands traveled up your body to your breasts, eyes catching something under your bra. He pulled the annoying piece of fabric down and if he could get any harder, he probably would.

“Fuck. You’re wearing your piercings? Did you come here to try and kill me?” The little diamonds sparkled under the light. He remembers buying the jewelry for your birthday last year. He also remembers sucking the sensitive nipples until you were crying just an hour later.

You giggled, biting your lip. “Of course not.”

His smirk widened. “You little sneak.” His hands went to grope at the soft flesh, a sigh falling from your lips. His thumbs ran lightly over the stiff peaks, pulling more sighs and little squeaks from your lips. Your nipples had gotten so much more sensitive after piercings. Yoongi couldn’t be too rough on them when you first got them, being careful of your healing process. He could barely touch them without you gasping in the slight pain from healing. Of course, he never complained, understanding your pain so he just stopped touching them. He just didn’t think it would test his control so much; seeing you walk around without a shirt sometimes, the already silky and delectable breasts looking more appetizing from the little barbells. Months had passed along with many maintenance appointments before you announced that they could be touched without pain. With the pain gone, your sensitivity skyrocketed and with Yoongi’s skilled tongue beginning their assault, your pleasure had been taken to a new level.

Your fingers tangled in his hair, pulling him closer and his mouth open to lick over your nipple. You let out a moan as his tongue swirled all around your piercing. He switched to the next one, giving it the same treatment.

The heat between your legs was becoming too much, your panties beginning to feel uncomfortable from how they were sticking to you.

“Yoongi….” You whined. His eyes lifted to lock on your flustered face, lips parted as puffs of air came through them, your eyes desperate and pleading for anything. Everything.

Reluctantly pulling away from your nipples, he helped you pull the dress from your body, tossing it somewhere in the room. Neither of you cared.

He kissed from your breasts to your tummy until he reached the apex of your thick thighs. You immediately dropped them open, revealing yourself to him. He groaned at your desperation but also at the sight of your soaked underwear. The thong barely covered anything, the baby blue fabric now dark from your arousal. It was practically leaking from you, the bottom of your ass shining. Kissing over the stretch marks that streaked down the inside of your thighs, he whispered words of praise to you.

“Fuck baby. You’re so fucking wet.” He couldn’t help himself, surging forward to suck on your clit through your panties. A shiver racked your body, your hands coming down to bury in his hair. The friction wasn’t as good with your panties still keeping his tongue from making direct contact with your clit but it was something. And it felt so good.

Your hips jerked against his face, trying to get more. His hands dug into the meat of your thighs, holding them open as his tongue licked at your clit.

More moans fell from your lips, pleasure causing your vision to go blurry. You felt so close already and he’s barely done anything. Blame it on you not having a proper orgasm for weeks. Your hands just didn’t feel the same and Yoongi had thrown out all of your vibrators once you two started having sex.

“You won’t need these anymore. All your orgasms should come from me.”

Now you were remembering why he threw them out in the first place. Only he could rip pleasure and orgasms from your body in seconds, playing your body like a piano.

Your hand came down your body, tapping against his forehead. He pulled away slightly, eyes searching your face for any sign of discomfort. You really only stopped him when you were shaking in overstimulation and he knew you hadn’t even cum yet so why were you stopping him?

When he pulled back, you grabbed onto your panties, pulling them aside to reveal your fat and dripping pussy to him.

How the hell did he get so lucky? Did he save orphans in his past life or something? Not only had he managed to put a ring on a kind, generous, and absolutely amazing person who treated him like a King and opened up the deepest parts of him, he also managed to snag a submissive, slutty, and needy woman who could ride his cock for hours and bend in ways he’s only dreamed of.

There was no way.

Eyes darkening in lust, he dove back in to capture your clit, licking at it more furiously than before. The heat from his mouth made that pressure build in your lower belly, your toes curling from their position in the air. Your loud moans only pushed him further, shoving 2 fingers in your tight heat. Your slick walls gripped his fingers so tightly that he could barely move them.

“Y-Yoongi! I’m gonna-“

He curled his fingers up, pulling away from your clit to lean up close to your face, his breath hitting your cheeks. “You gonna cum? You’re such a good girl.” He pressed some kisses to your open mouth, fingers thrusting in and out of your in a superhuman pace, veins and muscles in his arms shifting and bulging from the exertion.

When your orgasm crashed, you swore all of your senses except touch disappeared. You couldn’t hear and your vision blurred from the tears that had welled in your eyes. But Yoongi didn’t stop.

Your hand flew down to grab at his wrist, back arching as he continued his assault, helping you ride the huge wave.

He pulled his lip between his teeth. You were so sexy.

Once you came down, he slowly pulled his fingers from your, the digits glistening in your release. He sucked them into his mouth, moaning at the taste. He just couldn’t get enough.

Now he wanted more. Standing from the couch, he pulled off his own shirt and pants, taking his briefs with them. His hard cock slapped against his stomach, red at the tip and practically pulsing.

You bit your lip, thighs squeezing together as your pussy throbbed. Fuck you were so wet.

He flopped back on the couch, patting his lap. “Come ride this cock, baby.”

Not needing to be told twice, you crawled over into his lap, taking your bra and ruined panties off on the way.

His hands gripped your ass once you were straddled on his hips. You could feel the heavy weight of his cock pressing on your ass and it filled you with excitement.

Reaching your hand back, you gripped his cock, pumping it a few times. He groaned, head falling back against the couch at your touch.

Delivering a sharp slap to your ass, he growled, “stop teasing.”

His deep and demanding voice sent shivers down your spine. Never one to disobey, you lifted your hips, lining up his cock with your entrance. You rubbed the tip over your opening to gather some of your wetness before you slowly began sinking down on him.

A moan came from both of you as his thick cock began splitting you open. Your walls were squeezing him so tight that he felt like he could cum right there but he refrained. He wasn’t even all the way inside yet.

Your mouth was dropped open as his cock stretched you open, head tossed back and eyes closed as you basked in the feeling. Each ridge and vein was pressing against you in the most delicious way, the slight curve pressing against that spot deep inside of you. You felt like you could cum again just like this.

Once your ass met his thighs, you both let out sighs. Not only from pleasure but from being able to be close like this. This is what you needed; this closeness, this union, this intimacy. Sex was so much more to you than just getting off. It bonded you and brought you closer than ever, love spilling over and intertwining your hearts and souls.

Your arms wrapped around his neck, pulling him in for a sweeter and more sensual kiss.

“I love you…” you whispered against his lips.

“I love you too.”

Your hips began rolling against him, slowly at first to get accumulated to the stretch. He assisted you with one hand on your ass and one on your hip.

Before long, you began raising your hips, falling back down on his lap. The low clapping sounds spurring you on.

Yoongi groaned against your lips. “That’s it, baby. Faster.” With another sharp slap to your ass that made you moan, you bounced faster. Your ass jiggled each time it connected with his thighs and a part of him wished he could see it but the blissed out look on your face was too good to pass up.

Unwrapping your arms from his neck, you leaned back to get that perfect angle, your hands landing on his knees. A squeak fell from you as his tip began bullying your soft spot. Your head fell back, mouth dropped open as that delicious feeling began building in the pit of your stomach.

“Ah! Yoongi! Your cock feels s-so good!” You felt drunk, mind hazy and awareness faded. All you could focus on was the feel of him under you and the way his perfect cock slipped in and out. Your entire body felt like it was on fire, electricity spreading all the way to your fingertips and making your toes curl.

Yoongi couldn’t take his eyes off you. He didn’t even know where to look; your breasts, face, where you were connected? He could see how your arousal was dripping down to wet his pubic hair, a ring of your wetness coating the base of his cock. You were truly was a sight to behold.

That pressure was building faster than you thought. Sliding your hand down your body, your fingers connected with your clit, rubbing the nub in fast circles.

“Yoongi!”

He bit his lip hard enough to draw blood. Your walls clenched and constricted around him, almost suffocating him. His hands rubbed at your nipples, flicking at the piercings. You were seeing stars, the stimulation was too much. His hands roaming you, your own fingers on your clit, and his cock inside of you was all too much.

That pressure…..

“I’m cumming!”

Your hips lifted from his cock, it falling out to slap against his stomach. Your fingers rubbed at your clit until some drips of liquid came out. The motion of your fingers caused the droplets to fly everywhere, some landing on the cushions as well.

Once you were done riding it out, he was flipping you back on the couch, head pressed into the cushions and ass up in the air. He delivered a few slaps to your ass, pulling some moans from your at the sting. Your head was swimming, the sudden movement making you a little dizzy but that dizziness quickly left when Yoongi entered you again.

His cock entered you in one swift motion, hips immediately working to push and pull against you. Your ass clapped back on his hips, the fat jiggling and rippling with every move. His own orgasm was just over the horizon.

“You are so fucking sexy.” Each word was punctuated by a thrust. “You come in here looking this good and then you bounce on my cock until you squirt? Why the fuck have I been spending all my time here when you’re at home?” He was really talking to himself. Only a true idiot would leave a hot piece of ass like this at home all day. And he must really be a true idiot, probably the dumbest man alive. But not anymore.

Your moans were rising in pitch. With this position, you could every inch, every curve, absolutely everything. You could barely breathe, your brain only being able to form utterances of his name and begs of faster and harder.

That feeling in Yoongi began cresting, balls drawing up as his orgasm washed over him. His hands gripped your hips and ass hard enough to bruise but you could care less. He could bruise you up all he wanted.

His orgasm spread from the top of his head to the tips of his toes, shuddering his whole body. “F-fuck….” He breathed out. That was probably the hardest orgasm he’s ever had in his life.

Your own breath began to even out. You thought that was the end but you were suddenly flipped around back on your back. Both of your legs were hiked up over his right shoulder, thighs pressing into your chest in Yoongi’s absolute favorite position.

“You think I’m done with you?” His smirk was teasing and it caused more arousal to drip from you. He reached his hand down to line himself up before pushing into your heat. A gasp came from your throat at the intrusion, your hands coming to grip at the back of his neck.

His hips set a brutal pace, balls wetly slapping against your ass.

“Oh my god! Y-Yoongi!”

It felt like he was in your throat, every thrust hitting you in all the right spots. Your nails scratched at his neck, the slight sting only pushing him harder. He could feel your walls tightening, a tell tale sign of your orgasm. Your breasts bounced with every push, dark nipples looking incredibly enticing.

“Cum, baby. That’s it.”

Your body seized up as your second orgasm full body absorbed you. Your vision spotted white and your ears were ringing.

But not even your orgasm made him stop or slow down. He pushed faster and harder, the squelching noises getting louder as more and more wetness spilled from you.

It was like your orgasm wouldn’t stop. Wave after wave came over you. Every nerve was lit on fire, your mouth dropped but no sound came out. He had taken every word from you.

When he felt you squirt on his cock again, he shoved his full cock inside. Your toes curled so hard that you could feel them crack, legs shaking but he held them tightly. Your hands smacked against his shoulders as the stimulation became too much. You were so full.

“Yoongi!”

“Take it. Take all that cock, baby.”

You had no choice but you didn’t care. You’d give up every choice if it meant he’d fuck you like this.

He rolled his hips against yours a few more times before his own orgasm washed over him. He groaned into your throat, a full body shudder racking his body.

Lifting his head, he connected your lips in a soft kiss, a complete turn from what just went down. You hummed against his lips, hands roaming his soft skin.

He moved your legs from his shoulders, massaging your slightly sore muscles as you kissed. You both let out small moans as he pulled out of your heat, his cum flowing out of you.

Yoongi helped you clean yourself up, giving you a large elastic to tie up your hair. The sweat would definitely make your roots curl back up but that was a problem for another day. You put your dress back on as Yoongi pulled his shirt and pants back on. Your underwear found themselves tucked into his back pocket. A little silly considering he had endless access to you pussy but you guessed it was some man thing.

When Yoongi went back to his computer, leaning over the chair to click at some things, you visibly deflated, mood dampening. Was he really going back to work? You guessed you did just come to drop off food, the sex was a bonus and you did say you would leave afterwards. You just couldn’t help but feel a little sad and used. Yoongi was the king of aftercare, always running you a bath or giving you cuddles as you two calmed down from lovemaking. It’s not like this one moment would make you think Yoongi didn’t care but you did feel a little defeated.

Gathering your things, you were about to approach the door but Yoongi’s voice stopped you.

“Where are you going?”

You didn’t turn to face him, feeling a little embarrassed. “Home. Aren’t you going back to work?”

A snort came from him. “Of course not.”

You gasped when his body pressed against your back, also the feeling of his boner was right on your ass.

“Yoongi….”

“You really think I’m about to work and let you go home so you can wash my cum out of you? I’m fucking you until you can’t walk.”

Maybe you should come to the studio more often.

[daydreams-after-dark]

What's your fanfic fantasy? part 11

Chapter Contents.

Part 1 // Part 2 // Part 3 // Part 4 // Part 5 // Part 6 // Part 7 // Part 8 // Part 9 // Part 10 // Part 11 // Part 12 // Part 13 // Part 14 //

Premise: fem reader + Chan + Jisung 18+ fanfic. This is an AU story about Chan bringing your fantasies to life... but what happens when boyfriends Chan and Han fall in love with you?

Chapter Summary: Bath time with Chan

Warnings: bath sex, choking, dirty talk, sore vagina, pain kink? just more chan and y/n :-)

Chan pov.

Chan leaves you laying in bed while he goes to draw you a bath. Jisung had wanted the room with the biggest bathroom. “The one with the humongous tub.” He’d said to Chan. He smiles to himself as he pours some bubble bath under the running tap and the scent of strawberries fills the air. Jisung loves sweet bubble bath, sweet body wash and, even sweet candles. Right, candles. Chan hurries himself to light the numerous candles that had been placed on every surface of the bathroom. Anyone would think it's a homewares and gift store with the excessive number of them scattered around the room.

“Wow this looks romantic.” Chan turns to find you leaning on the door frame to the bathroom. His breath hitches when he sees your beautiful naked form.

Chan clears his throat “It’s all Jisung.” He shrugs. “He’s a bit of a sucker for this sort of thing.”

“What? Sickly sweet smells, or romance?” you muse.

“Both!” he looks down at the expanding bubbles. “Sorry, it’s the only bubble bath we have.”

“It’s perfect, Chan.” You slink closer to perch on the side of the tub.

Once the tub has finished filling, Chan climbs in and gestures for you to come sit between his legs, leaning your back against his chest.

It reminds him of the previous day when you were laying with him on the bed while you were blindfolded. He’d wanted to touch you so badly then, but he was grateful for the small amount of contact you had shared. Until he fucked your face that is.

“Y/n?” he says, breaking the silence that had fallen between you.

“Mmm hmm?” You nestle into him more. You look so sexy surrounded by bubbles.

“W-when… we were with Minho…” he sighs nervously “I didn’t hurt you when I… you know?”

You reach for Chan’s hands that had been resting on your stomach. “Channie,” you soothe. “I loved what you did to me…” You guide his hands to cup your plump breasts that are bobbing just above the water level.

“Promise?” Chan prods for more reassurance.

“Fuck yes.” You reply with a hint of frustration.

Fuck, he must have sound so insecure and needy. It isn't like him to be like this, even with Jisung.

“Chan, touch me like you wanted to on the bed, when we were waiting for Minho.” You demand softly.

Chan’s dick hardens immediately just at the thought of what he’d wanted to do. Silently, Chan begins to massage your swollen breasts, eliciting a low moan from you. Your nipples are perfectly pink and hard between his thumb and forefinger. He pinches one of them extra hard so he can see you squirm, and he chuckles silently to himself.

“More, Chan… please.” You are loving every moment of this as much as he is. You writhe against him, desperately, your body begging him to touch you more.

He slides one hand down your stomach, his palm gliding against your wet skin, and stops when his fingers find your pussy.

“Spread your legs for me, baby. I need access.” He instructs gruffly. “Yes, that’s it. Good girl.” His fingers part your lips. They are so swollen and engorged that he isn't sure if it's really a good idea to be doing this. But your reactions and encouragement spur him on.

Chan’s other hand wanders up to grasp your neck. He has never had the desire to squeeze someone’s neck before. Not until he had found himself with his had around yours the previous day. You were unlocking urges in him that he didn’t know he had. He nuzzles his face into your shoulder while he grips your slender neck just a fraction tighter, but not enough to actually restrict your airway.

You gasp and let your head loll back, giving him more access. You part your mouth and start to grind against his erection, as he massages your clit. She likes this.

“Ch-chan?” You whimpered.

“Yes baby. Is this okay?”

You pause. Chan releases his grip slightly worried it's too much.

“Choke me… more.” You say finally.

Something inside Chan stirs and he's overcome with a sense of power and control. It has been threatening to come to the surface over the past couple of days. You are doing things to his sanity. This is different to how Jisung makes him feel. You make him want to hurt you? Jisung makes him want to protect him.

“Are you sure?” he needs to double check.

“Choke me…please.” You repeat. It sounds like you're in your own world, loose and submissive. He could probably do anything right now and you'd willingly accept it.

Chan’s hand resumes the grip on the side of your neck. His hand almost covers the entire surface if he splay his fingers slightly. Then he applies some pressure, being careful not to push too hard against your airway. You make a choked cry, but you are still breathing relatively fine because your chest is heaving with arousal.

The fingers on your clit slide down to your opening, and as he tightens his grip on your neck even more, he sinks two fingers inside of you. You arch your back off of his chest, writhing with pleasure, spasming as though you're possessed. The only thing keeping you anchored in place is his grip on your neck and his fingers in your cunt. Chan is living for it. He feels so dominating, and he loves it. He needs to be inside you again. Immediately.

With his fingers securely inside you, Chan slides you up his body to make room for his cock. “Babygirl… I know it’s hard… but I need you to guide my cock inside you.” He kisses your cheek. “Can you do that for me?” He isn't sure if you've registered his voice, but as he hoists you up by your pussy you reach down and guide his cock to your entrance. Just as he’d asked. Chan withdraws his fingers from your vagina and spread your lips apart with two fingers, allowing the head of his cock to press into you “Good girl. Yes.. Fuck.” He groans.

Chan feels his dick being gripped like a vice as he lowers you down his length. He doesn't know how you're able to accommodate his cock after so much fucking. You definitely feel swollen. It has to hurt.

He roughly circles your clit as he begins to thrust from below. His grip on your neck still strong. He bites into it with a growl. “You’re so fucking incredible. You’re so tight. I know I’m hurting you, but you take me so well. So fucking good.” He grunts as he slams up into you. “My good girl. Letting me fuck you so hard.”

You cry out underneath him, but Chan can't stop. If anything he squeezes your neck tighter, and presses harder on your clitoris as he loses all control. You are driving him absolutely insane, like some sort of animal has been unleashed inside of him. Like a wolf who has just caught his prey, and now he is devouring his catch. The knot in his stomach grows strong as he nears his high.

Chan feels you tighten around him even more, gripping his cock painfully. You are close. Your moans and whimpers growing loud and unashamed.

“That’s it. You love this don’t you? Being completely at my whim. Having me own you. Letting me fuck you how I want. Unable to move. Unable to escape. Your only option is to take what I have to give. All of me. Until I say I’m done. Even if it hurts.” He growls.

You scream as your whole body convulses. Your legs tremble, your pussy clenches, your hips grind against him, making Chan come hard against your cervix. He cries out equally as loud, then muffles his moans in your neck.

Your orgasms feel like they're lasting an eternity, before your muscles give out and you both slump back against the tub panting.

“Jesus. Fuck. I don’t know what came over me.” Chan wraps his arms around your waist and nestles his cheek against yours. He hopes to God that he wasn’t too much for you.

“Channie?” You pant.

“Yeah?” he kisses your cheek. Please say this was okay, he thinks to himself.

“That was the best orgasm of my life.” You declare.

Chan feels a pang in his chest, a mixture of love and relief washes over him. She liked it. The best of orgasm of her life. This woman really is perfect.

“Really? I’m not sure Ji would want to know that.” He teases, squeezing you lovingly.

“Well… I guess we will have to give him the best orgasm of his life in the morning then.” You reply decisively.

“Let’s plan to only have our best orgasms together… the three of us.” Chan whispers. He thinks ahead to all of the love to be made between the three of you and closes his eyes to fight back happy tears.

a/n: next up is a bit of a change of pace as we get a chapter from Minho's pov as he waits for Hyunjin to arrive at the house.

@rylea08 @channieandhisgoonsquad @noellllslut @itsseohannbin @weareapackofstrays @kangnina @3rachasdomesticbanana @palindrome969 @xxkissesforchanniexx @chuuchuu1224 @fun-fanfics @wolfennracha @rhonnie23 @jisunglyricist @strayywayy @rixenluv @piscesrising01 @lunearta @shltsnglggles @lilbabiebunni @jiminssluttyminx @armystay89 @krayzieestay @stellasays45 @hxnnielk @yaorzu-blog @anjian03 @tsunderelino @igetcarriedawaywithyou @mylittleponeypinkrosieposie @privhace @kyunchoni @writhingwrecked @kisses-too-the-moon @justforreaders @melochacco @scenuniverse @oddracha @meilix @ismokeeweed @leftovercigarettes @galaxycatdrawz

[asumofwords]

Smoke, Fire and Ash

Warnings: This fic includes noncon, dubcon, manipulation, violence, death, forced marriage, and inc3st. Tags will be added as the fic goes on. Blood, grief, stabbing, death, PTSD.

This is a dark!fic. 18+ only. Read at your own discretion. Please read the warnings before continuing.

Summary: You are the eldest daughter of Rhaenyra and Daemon Targaryen. You are forced to navigate the difficult surroundings of your upbringing and the eventual disintegration between your family and the Hightower's relationship. What will happen when your older and estranged uncle suddenly takes a more sinister interest in you? (Dark!Aemond x Reader)

Masterlist

Characters: Aemond Targaryen X Reader, HOTD characters.

Note: Hello my babies! Well..... I know a lot of you prayed that the last chapter was a dream... It wasn't. And apologies for that haha. But we aren't finished just yet, we have 5 chapters to go!!!! I hope this satiates your little desires. Enjoy <3

Chapter 105: A Crown Forged in Blood 

“When I’m Queen, we shall fly to Essos and eat as many lemon tarts, star fruit, and pies as we wish.” You had smiled at the older boy, sitting in the Gardens, hidden away from the searching eyes of the Septa.

Aemond grinned, both eyes creasing as you spoke, “When I claim a dragon, we can race there.”

“Syndor would beat you any day.”

The young Prince pouted, “We shall see if that’s true.”

“Yes, we shall.” You had said haughtily, lifting your chin higher as you tried to squeeze the smile from your face.

“When I’m Queen,” You had stood, looking down at him in mock regality, “I shall make you my knight, so that you may always be at my side to bring me lemon tarts.”

Aemond’s button nose scrunched, “Why not make me your King? Then we can make Aegon be our cup bearer.”

You snickered, “You’re right! How did I not think of that? Gods, I've been so blind, Aemy! I would have no other man by my side but you.”

The older boy blushed, looking away shyly. 

You sat down beside him again, nudging his shoulder, “What’s wrong?”

Aemond shook his head, “Nothing.”

“Don't you lie to me. It's a sin to lie. What would the Septa say? What would your Lady mother say?”

The young boy gave you a glare, to which you giggled lightly.

“You mock me.” The Prince whispered.

You frowned, “I don’t mock you, Aemy. Never you.”

“Do you think being wed to me would be a punishment from the Gods?” His voice was so small, so quiet, and your ears had strained to hear it come from his lips. 

But there it was, his ever present self doubt, lack of self worth, and constant state of anxiety. Aegon no doubt being the thorn in Aemond’s side, which continued to grow and press meanly into the wound, festering into the young boys confidence.

“Kepus,” You grabbed his small hand in yours, shaking it about between the two of you, “I think that being wed to you would be the greatest gift the Gods could ever give me. Who else makes me smile but you?”

Petrichor floated over the realm, the soft earthy smell of rain settling atop Kings Landing after the storm had finally passed, making its way further West, where it would eventually run out of its rage, and dissipate into the sky.

Your chambers smelt coppery, irony and thick, from the blood that had begun to coagulate beneath you, beside you, on you. Much like the blood that had begun to coagulate within his own body, that lay still and cold at your side. 

But the smell of rain lingered in the chambers, if only just so, as the sun slowly rose into the sky, the first glow of morning light filling the room.

Your hand continued to brush through his hair, soothing his silken strands whilst your palm cupped his cheek with each movement. Admiring his beauty, committing his image to your memory forever more.

His eye was now closed. For you had brushed it shut with shaking fingertips, and pressed another kiss to his lips. Just as the prophecy had said.

Another eye will close. 

And it had.

The tears on your cheeks had dried, and your sobbing had ceased.

The ache that had once settled deep within your chest had gone cold, and now a subtle numbness spread through your limbs, up your arms, all the way down to your toes. 

Shifting amongst the sheets, you looked down at the man you loved, the chemise against you cold and sticky with his blood, clinging to each and every curve of your body. Your love's blood. 

The man you had killed for. 

The man who had killed for you. 

And the man, you ultimately killed with your own hands.

His face was soft, and he looked at peace. Finally at rest.

No more sneers, or scowls, or frowns. No more anxiety, or worry, or anger.

Just him.

Your Aemond.

Sister, A voice whispered in the low light of the chambers.

Your head moved slowly, sluggishly, as though your body had been frozen in ice, or as though you were moving through thick layers of snow in winter. Winter had finally come for you.

At the side of the bed, stood the young boy who had been taken first. The first loss in the sea of losses. The first life to have been taken in this war. The first person to pierce all who had been close with grief.

His dark brown curls were dry atop his head, cow-like eyes blinking at you gently, long lashes fluttering against his cheeks, and atop his lips was a small and sad smile. His robes were no longer wet as they had been during the night, and his cheeks held the soft rosy blush that they used to.

It’s time, Lucerys spoke again.

You blinked.

Once. 

Twice.

Three times.

It’s time.

With one last glance at Aemond, lips pressed against the cold of his forehead, you slowly stood from the bed. Joints aching and sore, but only just. The chemise stuck to your flesh, and the coldness of your hair that had settled in his blood sent shivers down your spine.

But it was time. 

And you had been waiting for this moment since you first arrived.

Every move you had made had come to this, every piece of the board you had meticulously placed had finally fallen to where it had needed to be. Every hour of suffering, of agony, of isolation, was so that this moment could come to fruition. From the moment you had stepped back into the Red Keep with Aemond, the pieces had been moving.

As you started to walk across the chambers, almost in a dream like state, you turned one last time, in the hopes that you would see his chest rise and fall, the colour come back to his cheeks and the violet of his eye open to look at you. 

Hoping to see him sit up in the bed, sheets tucked around his waist as he looked at you in disappointment, for him to chastise you, mock you, call you to him. To give you a lecture, tell you were a fool, tell you that he forgave you.

To have him hold you, and kiss you, and feel him against your skin. To plan a future together, more children, and convince him, truly convince him to flee with you. To leave Kings Landing and start anew, somewhere far away.

To say, 'See? This is what would have happened. Now we know what we must do. Now you can see I was right. Now we can leave, be together.'

But he didn’t, and he was still, and he would be still forever more. 

The glinting of the blade on the bed caught your eye, and so with fingers dried with his blood, you picked up the Valyrian steel and gold dagger, red on its blade and hilt, splashed against the emerald stone of one dragon. You spun, taking slow steps across the chambers towards you brother.

Lucerys turned his head, looking to the table.

And there it was.

The Conquerors Crown. 

Sitting where it had been placed the night before, in wait for Aemond to rise that morning with the sun and place it atop his head. But the Targaryen man would not rise that morning, nor would he rise ever again to place that crown atop his head, or rise to place a kiss against your lips. 

Nor would he rise to see the suns gentle warmth or feel its rays. Nor would he reach out and grasp it with his long fingers. Nor your hands, not your face, nor your body, or his goblets of wine. Not his tomes that he loved reading, or his quill that he spent countless hours writing with, nor the reins of his dragon he had lost an eye for.

Aemond Targaryen; a son, a brother, an uncle, a nephew, a lover, a husband, a King, was no more, and grasp, or hold, or sneer, or kiss, or smile, or breathe he would not. Never again.

The crown of Aegon the First.

Valyrian steel that had been passed down generations, its sharp edges and points curved to its peaks at the front, and smaller ones at its sides stared up at you. The ruby in the centre, a blood coloured stone, round and perfect sat at its front.

The last one left. 

No more were the others flanking its sides and around the entirety of the crown.

Were they plucked by greedy hands, or lost to falls or breaks? Or did they never truly exist in the first place?

Fingers wrapped around its rim, small smudges of blood smearing atop the steel, you turned it in your palm. It was heavier than you had remembered, the weight of the crown balanced in your hands. 

But the weight of the crown atop your head was barely felt. 

Some say, the weight of the crown can drive men to madness and cruelty, or impassivity in the face of adversity, but was it the true weight of the physical crown, or the weight of what it represented. The weight of the duty that it carried alongside. The weight of the realm at your finger tips.

But to you, the weight was both overwhelming and not there at all, and it was only when Lucerys whispered your name in your ear did you look up, catching your reflection in the mirror of the vanity at the far wall. 

The chambers were filled with an amber glow of the early morning sun, a warm orange that touched all inside, casting shadows atop the furniture and art, illuminating the ruby at the front of the crown. 

And there you stood, bare except the blood stained chemise that clung to your curves and the crown that sat atop your head, smeared in the blood of the King. Silver white locks were clumped with blood on one side, whilst a smear of red appeared across your cheek, where Aemond had held your face in his dying palm. 

But it was your eyes that truly caught your notice. Not the crown, or the blood, or the dagger that was still clutched in a loose hand by your side. It was the violet of your eyes that had seemed to darken, seemed to have dulled, in the way Aemond’s had.

It was as though you were looking at a stranger.

They’re coming, Luc whispered again behind your shoulder, head turning to look at the door.

And there, at the entrance, stood Helaena. Dressed in an apricot gown, hair pulled away from her face in the braid she wore every single day. Never changing, never evolving. She stood and watched.

Waiting. 

Your throat felt dry as your aunt stared at you, her face void of any emotion, ghostly white and silent. Her lavender eyes were locked on you, never once straying to Lucerys or Aemond.

And she stood where you knew you had to go.

She stood where you knew you had no choice but to.

She stood in the room alongside her only niece and deceased nephew, her younger brother still, and bloodied on his bed. The last of Alicent's children to fall. The last of her brothers to meet the same fate as her.

All gone.

All lost.

Taken by the stranger.

Hand on door, you pulled at the handle, slowly sliding it open, the weight of the wood against your stained palm, bare feet pressed into the cold stones of the floor. Your heart thumped steadily in your chest as you stepped out.

You looked down the wing, eyes searching the walls and space before you. The corridor was quiet, no maid nor servant moving through your wing of the Keep as they usually would. 

The knight at your door was gone. 

He knew.

And so you left, leaving your chambers behind you, the corpse of the man you loved, bloodied and cold in your bed. Leaving it behind to do what you knew you needed to do. Like an invisible string pulled and guided you, down the corridors, down the halls, the many stairs and steps, with not a single guard present. 

Not a single knight to be seen. 

Nor Lord.

Nor Lady.

Nor maid.

Empty. 

Too early for the morning rush of the higher Lords, racing to their duties.

Too late for the maids and servants to not be racing about.

But none were seen.

As though the Gods had cleared you safe passage, ensuring you go undetected for as long as inhumanly possible.

They were helping you, you thought, after all you had done.

And so you kept on, toes having gone numb from the cold stones below, and all feeling in your body disappearing; like you were floating. Hovering above the stones, body as light as a feather as you moved. The feeling of being foreign in your own skin, bones not feeling at all like your own, thoughts lost to the cool morning air.

And then suddenly there you were, standing in the large chambers of the Iron Throne alone. 

Empty.

You stared up at the mangled and broken swords, crafted to create a monstrous throne that would and should spark fear into any enemy in its presence. Into any man who dared to defy it.

The embodiment of the Targaryen dynasty. The legacy of fire and blood. A promise of dragons and death.

A silent tear fell from your cheek.

“Your Grace?”

You blinked, brows twitching, the hand holding the blade at your side tightened, hidden amongst the folds of the chemise that was caked with Aemond's blood.

A noise came from behind, a thumping against the stones. 

Clunk.

Clunk.

Clunk.

It seemed to echo in the space around you, jolting your brain with each step as it became louder and louder behind you, coming nearer and nearer. 

Closer and closer until it was right behind you, and a large hand had reached to press itself against the flesh of your shoulder, fingers curling over you gently, a position that could shoot back quickly if needed.

You slowly looked over at the hand that gripped your shoulder, nails were cut neatly back to the cuticle, and a singular gold ring upon its forefinger. 

A bee engraved in its centre. 

You followed the hand up its wrist, to its elbow, then all the way to his face. 

Larys Strong stood behind you with caution in his Strong brown eyes.

Eyebrows knitted in concern. 

Uncertainty.

He took in your appearance, eyes roaming down your bloodied body, chemise clinging to your skin, stiff backed and quiet, crown atop your messed waves of silver white hair.

“Where is the King?” He asked, voice quiet as he looked at you.

You breathed in audibly, throat rasping as you parroted him back, “The King.”

“Where is your knight?” Larys Strong’s voice became sharp, prickled, as he looked about the chambers in search of the man who had known, who had fled, who had most likely had warned others to go with him.

You shook your head, body still facing the throne, hand tightening against the blade as your knuckled creaked. Eyes unblinking as you took a shallow breath.

“I must-“ Larys began, but the words were halted in his throat.

You had spun.

Quicker than you thought you would have. 

Not unsure of what you were truly doing, but following instincts.

The instinct to survive. 

His cane fell to the floor loudly, rolling away from him, as his brows pulled down in agony.

A cough of pain bubbled from his lips, spittle laced with blood dribbling down his chin. His deep brown eyes finally dropped down, your fist pressed against his stomach, the blade of your dagger thrust deep within his gut.

He opened his mouth to cry out, but you jolted the blade upwards, using all the strength you had left, his hands gripping your shoulders painfully as you held onto one of his, keeping him on your blade.

You looked into his eyes and leant forward, whispering beside his ear, “A dragon devours the sheep and wolves whole, Lord Larys. I warned you of this. And I always keep my word.” Your voice came out smoothly, softly, as though a coin had been tossed, and the shock of Aemond’s death had fallen away like a curtain, drifting down to the stone below.

“I- you have-“ He gasped, one hand moving to grasp your wrist, to try and pry the blade from where it was nestled in his flesh, blood spreading outwards on his green and brown robes, the soft dripping of the thick, viscous liquid hitting the stones below.

“The King is dead, Larys." You pulled back to look at him, "And I am the Queen.” You yanked the blade from his gut, stepping back as you watched him stagger backwards and fall to the ground with a thump, his iron foot scraping against the floor loudly.

“You-” He coughed, blood dripping from his lips, and overflowing from his hands where he clutched desperately at his robes, “Y-ou have p-layed the ga-me well.” He praised brokenly, another pathetic cough falling from his lips, a thin string of bloodied saliva dangling from his chin.

“I have not played the game, Larys. I have won it.”

You turned away from him, and slowly made your way up the steps of the Iron Throne, Lord Larys Strong watching weakly from the stone floor where he bled heavily against the grey stones, his crimson spreading across it rapidly.

They would be fed once more.

Blood dripped from the blade with every step you made, a long trailing path following you up to where you finally stood, eye to eye with the monstrosity.

The Iron Throne.

You thought of all the blood that had been shed for this throne.

All the suffering that had been endured.

All the loss.

For, Aegon the Conqueror, who slayed each man and took their swords to create it. To Maegor the Cruel, who was destined to flood the Keep with blood from those who defied him, and the men who built it. To Viserys, your Grandsire, who let blood be spilt in his inaction. In his complacence. Incompetence.

To Aegon.

To Aemond.

And now, you.

And in that very moment, as you stood before something you had desperately craved as a child, which you had thought you would be promised, which was yours by birthright, it caused nothing but hatred and despair.

A throne which had taken so much of you. So much from you.

But when you fight for the Iron Throne, you either win, or you die. 

The Greens had declared war.

And you were still standing.

After all odds, you were still here.

You turned to face the room, looking out at the many large stone pillars, the stained glass windows, the unlit torches, and slowly sat atop the throne, looking down at Larys as he lay on his side, chest rising weakly as he blinked sluggishly up at you.

It was cold, the throne.

The sharp edges beneath your flesh poked at you threateningly, but it did not break the skin, nor tear at you chemise. A reminder of the threat of sitting atop it. Perhaps the true intentions of Aegon the First when he had the throne made. Have a throne that reminded you of the threat that was sitting atop it. A reminder of the enemies, the usurpers and turncloaks alike that would nip at your heels and back when you blinked.

The dangers of even your own self.

And yet even still, you were not cut. As if the Gods had made it so. 

And they had.

You sat and watched quietly as Ser Larys Strong, The Master of Whispers, took his last, dying breath against the stone floors of the Iron Throne chambers. You watched as his head rolled limply against the cold floor, and the hands clutched at his stomach loosened.

You let yourself smile, an angry smile, and rage filled smile, small on your lips as you looked at the corpse below you. A man who had done so much damage, who had taunted and teased you, mocked and provoked.

A man who had whispered in Alicent's other ear, whilst Otto purred in the other, pushing her to choices which started the pieces that would fall. That would start the pieces of all her children dying.

To her being alone.

The blood beneath him pooled thickly, reflecting the ceiling of the chambers like a puddle.

They were coming. 

And you would wait. 

Dagger in hand, crown atop your head, seated upon the Iron Throne, you would wait. 

And so you did, for a time, until the familiar screech of a dragons flew over the Red Keep, and the deep rumble of another crossed closely by. Shadows sweeping across windows, distant screams, men running, and the sound of dragon fire. 

But you could not pull your eyes away from the doors as you waited, not as you saw men run past the Iron Throne chambers, nor when you heard rumblings from Flea Bottom. 

You were to wait. 

And wait you did. 

As though you had gone into a dreamlike state, a meditative state, no worries, nor cares, nor thoughts within your head. No feeling but the cold numbness that creeped through your pores and crawled through your bones.

Time moved differently.

And the noises became louder.

Until there, at the far end of the room, stood a pair of silver hair and violet eyes. 

One much larger than the other, taller and broader, the other smaller and dainty, a golden crown atop her head. Their eyes were open in shock, in relief, in fear, heads snapping from Larys and then to you.

Daemon and Rhaenyra had returned to the Red Keep.

Thanks so much for reading along with me, if you wish to be added to the tag list please let me know :) Likes and reblogs are greatly appreciated ! Enjoy <3

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[finnsbubblegum]

Becoming Mrs. Miller {Part 2: Moving In} (Joel Miller x Reader)

Pairing: pre-outbreak!joel miller x f!reader

Warnings: 18+, mdni, domestic joel, smut, hickey kink, fingering, p in v sex, unprotected sex (wrap it up guys) (lmk if i missed any)

Summary: Since your first meeting with Sarah, Joel finally asked you to move in and he helped you move your stuff. 😏

Words count: 1.7k

A/N: Hi! I got some ideas and decided to make a part 2 for Becoming Mrs. Miller. But it can also be read as a standalone. I might make more chapters too! Stay tuned and hope you like it!

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7

It was very unusual of Joel to ask you out for a fancy dinner date. He was always the type of man who loved simple dates. Your dates with him had been movie nights at his place, getting drinks at the bar, meals at unfancy places and picnics with Sarah. So you were looking forward to your date tonight. The two of you arrived at the restaurant he had made a reservation for. You ordered steak and Joel cut yours into small pieces so you could eat it easily.

“So, I was thinkin’.” Joel passed you your nicely cut steak.

“Hmm?” You looked at Joel and took your plate.

“What do you think about moving in? It would be nice to have you in our home.” Joel sounded nervous and his fingers were twitching.

“What? Are you kidding me? That’s great, Joel. I thought you’d never asked.” Your voice was high as you were excited by his proposal.

“Oh my God. Thank you. I was nervous.” Joel sighed in relief.

It has been a few months since you met Sarah for the first time and Joel finally asked you to move in. And you couldn’t wait to move in. The picture of living with him and Sarah under the same roof had always been in your head.

“Should I start tomorrow?” 

“Yeah, baby. I’ll help you move your stuff.”

You finished your dinner and Joel drove you home. He kissed you on your front porch before he drove back home. You couldn’t sleep that night because you were too excited about Joel’s idea of moving in. You forced yourself to sleep until the sun rose so you jumped off your bed and started packing your stuff. You started from your most important stuff and put them in boxes. You heard Joel was parking his truck and looked at your door. Joel let himself in with the spare key you gave him.

“Hey.” You greeted Joel and continued organizing your stuff.

Joel walked to you, put his arms around your waist and gave you a kiss.

“You’ve packed a lot.” Joel put his hands on his waist as he saw there were a lot of boxes.

“Woke up pretty early today. Couldn’t sleep ‘cause I was too excited.” You smiled and looked around your messy house.

“Can I move these to the truck?” Joel chuckled and pointed at a few boxes that were fully filled.

“Yes. All of these are ready to go.” You pointed to a stack of boxes.

Joel carried the boxes and moved them to his truck. You took a box and followed him. 

“Here.” You passed the box to Joel.

“Hey. Let me do it. Don’t carry heavy stuff.” His tone was so soft. It made you want to hear his voice every second.

“Yes, sir.” 

You went back inside to continue putting your stuff in the boxes. You stared at him as he carried three boxes at once, sweat on his tight black shirt. You were drooling because he looked so sexy in your eyes.

“What are you starin’ at, Miss?” Joel caught you staring at him.

“Nothing.” You tried to hide your smile and grabbed some clothes to put them inside the box.

“I caught you starin’ at me, baby.” Joel put his arms around you from behind and whispered to your ear.

“You got me, Joel. You looked so sexy moving those boxes.” You stroked his forearm on your stomach.

“Uh-huh. Why don’t we take a break then?” Joel kissed your shoulder from your back.

“I think that’s a great idea. I’m starting to get bored anyways.” You smirked as you turned to face him.

You leaned the back of your thigh on the table and put your hands on the table slightly sitting. Joel chuckled and cupped your jaw with his big hands. He rubbed your cheeks with his thumb and kissed you. You smiled as he kissed you. You put your arms around his neck dragging him closer to you. Joel put his hands on your waist and lifted you to the table. You gasped as the sudden movement. 

“Are you gonna do something to me, Joel?” You smirked at him.

“Yes, ma’am. We will have to be quiet in the future since Sarah will be around the house most of the time. So today I’m gonna make you scream as loud as you want to, sugar.” (Reference from that viral tiktok edit by dvcree of Agent Whiskey 🤭)

“Please, Joel.” You begged Joel.

He smirked and kissed your lips roughly like he was hungry enough to eat your lips. You felt one of his hands slowly snaking to your breast under your shirt. He squeezed your bare breast, kneaded it, and you moaned. You pulled your oversized shirt off and now you were sitting on the table almost naked, letting your breast free, only wearing your black lacy panties on. It made Joel drooled over you. His eyes widened as he couldn’t wait to eat you. But you didn’t want him to eat your pussy yet so you pulled him closer to you with force and kissed him tongue to tongue. He understood and continued squeezing your breast and playing with your nipple. The two of you were wild. It felt like you were fucking before the world ended. 

Joel moved his way to your neck, kissing it to leave a mark. You moaned and pulled his hair. He moaned. He stopped to catch his breath and looked at the hickey he gave you. 

“You’re mine.” He smiled, caressing the red mark with his thumb as he was proud of leaving a mark on you. He wanted other men to see it so they knew you were his. 

“I’m yours.” You smiled at him.

After he had his moment admiring you, he looked at you up and down. You couldn’t wait for him to be inside you.

“I need you, Joel.” Your heart was racing and you begged him.

“Not so fast, baby.” 

He smirked and started to kiss you from your shoulder, chest, upper stomach, lower stomach and made his way down slowly. He finally reached the spot where you wanted him to touch you. His eyes looked hungry, pulled your panties hurriedly and threw it away behind him. 

“That’s so sexy, Joel.” You laughed, covering your face with your hands. 

“You liked that? I’m sure you’ll like what I’m gonna do to you now.” He stroked your thighs up and down.

He smirked at you and spread your thigh with force. You gasped at his rough move. His thumb started circling your clit slowly while the other hand rested on your thigh squeezing it. You moaned and buried your face to his fully clothed chest. His circles started to move faster and your breathing was getting shallow.

“Joel!” You screamed, squeezed your eyes and threw your head back.

Joel smirked as he loved seeing you enjoying what he did to you. He started to finger you with his thick fingers. You moaned as he entered you. He moved his fingers in and out with a beat. You moaned and he added another finger in. You squeezed his shoulder as his fingers slid in and out. He kept sliding and curling inside you, hitting your G-spot. You panted and you could see your slick dripping. He pulled his fingers full of your juices, looked at you and sucked them. You shook your head in awe and stroked his head. 

“I want him, Joel.” You put your palm on his bulge that was eager to be free from his pants.

“As you wish, beautiful.” You helped unbuckle his belt and he tugged his pants away. 

You were drooling as you finally saw his big and thick cock free out in the air. That beautiful thing was what you had been waiting for throughout the day. Joel got even harder when he saw your eyes in love with his cock. You pushed all your stuff on the table to make a room for you, making a mess on the floor. He understood your sign and grabbed your shoulder and pushed you to lay on your back on the table. You chuckled and spread your legs to give him a way to your entrance. Joel touched your pussy and stroked his cock with your juices letting a pre-cum out. He groaned and teased your pussy up and down with his tip. You squeezed your thigh and he brushed his tip to your clit. 

“Ready for me to be inside you, baby?” 

You nodded hurriedly and bit your finger. You couldn’t wait for him to be inside you. Joel pushed himself to your entrance slowly. 

“Joel!” You gasped as he was stretching you.

Joel moved slowly and grabbed your other hand that was resting on your thigh. You squeezed your eyes shut and clenched his cock.

“So fucking tight, baby.” Joel hissed.

You couldn’t answer him as your mind was blank, but full of pleasure. You moaned so loud and made sounds that Joel loved.  And you wanted more. 

“I love it when you make that sound for me, baby.” Joel praised you.

Joel raised your leg to his shoulder, pulling you closer and thrusted into you faster and harder. He moved his other hand to caress your breast. He loved pleasing you. Your moans got louder as you felt pleasure running through your veins. Joel groaned and shifted you to your back so you were in a crawling position like a baby on the table. He spread your cheeks and let himself in. You moaned as he squeezed your cheeks.

“Fas-faster, please.” You begged Joel.

Joel nodded and held the back of your neck. He started getting his pace and thrusted into you faster. Then he slapped your ass.

“Fuck!Fuck!Joel!Joel!Joel!” You screamed so loud as you were close to your climax.

“Wait for me, baby.” He kept fucking you hard.

“I can’t hold it, please.” You shiver and begged him.

“Fuck! I’m close.” He panted and his thrusts were losing beat.

“Jooeel!!” You screamed as you reached your orgasm.

Joel hissed as he felt your juices warming his cock. He rested his hands on your back and groaned. He shifted you back on your back. Lifted your leg, bent down and kissed your inner thigh.

“Such a good girl for me.” He leaned in and gave you a kiss.

“You too, Joel.” You smiled and caressed his jaw. 

The two of you sighed and looked around.

“What a mess.” You chuckled.

To be continued...

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7

[ssinnerplazahotel]

╭──────────.★..─╮

*Chapter Twelve*

╰─..★.──────────╯

WC: 6k

Warning: 18+, age gap, smut, fluff, toxic elvis, manipulation, drug use, it’s the 50s/60s, painful-difficult-devastating-life-changing-extraordinary love

Pairing: elvis x black reader

Disclaimer: full of inaccuracies, inaccurate timeline, inaccurate depictions of Graceland, historically inaccurate themes and items

Masterlist: Prologue, Ch. 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11

You didn’t know what was said in the brief meeting that Elvis had with the Colonel the following morning, but a photo op was ordered for an announcement that would be in the papers.

“A photo op?”

“They want a good shot of us for the paper. A more formal introduction for the public.”

You frowned as you were pressured to choose your look for the photo.

“I don’t know. I can’t decide.”

“I like this one.” Elvis pointed out a lime dress with a pink pattern.

“It’s too loud, isn’t it?” You tilted your head as you examined the material.

“Suits the mood.”

“If you say so.”

He was forced out of the room so you could dress and go through hair and makeup. Soon you were preparing to head out for the photo.

“I knew you’d look perfect,” He said when he saw you. “The camera’s gonna love you, baby.”

“Are you sure it’s not too much?” You ask. “The makeup and the dress—it’s not like me.”

“It’s perfect,” He promised. “You’re my girl now so you hafta keep up your appearance.”

“Did I do a bad job at keeping it up before?”

“Oh, you did just fine.” He kissed your cheek and a camera flashed, signaling the arrival of the photographer.

“Let’s get the two of you outside,” He said instructed promptly. “Colonel wants this sent to the press by the end of the night.”

“Why?” You wondered.

“Come on, baby, let’s go outside,” Elvis said, putting his arm around you. “It’s just something he does. He knows how to…appeal to certain audiences.”

You stepped out onto the porch, stopping just before the first step and facing him. “And what audience are we appealing to now?”

“Those good, old, vanilla sons of bitches you always hear about,” He said, making you laugh. “They’re upset now, but they just need to see us kissin and huggin and lovin on each other. As a way to, y’know, convince them that I actually love you and that I’m not taking you in as a concubine.”

“Is that what people are saying?”

“People are saying a lot.”

The photographer gave the two of you instructions on what to do and you went around taking pictures for at least thirty minutes. You never thought taking a photo could take so long.

“Let’s have one with you sitting down and her standing next to you,” He said, gesturing for you to move onto the steps. “Put your hand on his shoulder.”

“How much longer, boss?” Elvis asked—you could tell he was getting restless.

“Just a few more.” He snapped the photos in a rush and finished up, true to his word. “Alrighty, I’m gonna get these to print and they should start circulating in no time.”

The photos were circulating that night. You had only seen a few pages of different newspapers, they all said relatively positive things.

“Where are the bad ones?” You asked.

“The what?” Elvis responded, appearing from the bathroom.

“The bad ones.”

“What’re you talkin about?

You crossed your arms. “Where are all the articles from the people that were standing out there crying their eyes out, ready to take my head off?”

His eyebrows drew together. “I don’t know, birdie. I brought those so you could see how the pictures came out, not so you could catch up on the latest hit pieces.”

“You can’t shield me from them, E, I have to see them,” You said. “It’ll just make things harder if I don’t.”

“Trust me, you’ll be better off not getting too caught up in the press,” He said, joining you in bed. “They chew you up and spit you out. I don’t want that to happen to you. Not my baby birdie.”

You pouted but moved on. “This one’s saying that the coat I was wearing when we got off the plane is sold out now. Do you think that’s true?”

“Enough of this,” He said, taking the pages from you and sweeping them to the ground.

“No~”

“You’ve had enough.”

The phone rang, cutting your rebuttal short. Elvis stood and snatched off the hook. You went to gather the papers from the ground—stacking them neatly on the bed.

“Who was it?” You asked when he hung up.

“I have a surprise for you downstairs,” He said.

“For me?” You chuckled. “What is it?”

“If I told you, it wouldn’t be a surprise, would it? Come on. Liz is here to get you ready.”

“That poor woman,” You said with a frown. “I can do my own hair and makeup.”

“I know, but she knows how I like it.” He took your hands in his and brought them up to his lips.

You hummed thoughtfully and wrapped your arms around his neck. “Do you like the way she does it, baby?”

His eyes darkened and his lips turned up in a smirk. “Don’t you?”

“If you like it, I love it.” You smiled, standing up on your toes to kiss him. “Get out of here so I can change.”

“It’s not gonna be good you keep winding me up and not letting me sing,” He said, pulling your body against his. “I might not be able to keep showing so much restraint.”

“I’m not asking you to,” You said. “I’m yours, aren’t I?”

“You are.”

“Then do what you want with me.”

There’s a knock on the door, signaling Elizabeth Monroe’s arrival. Elvis had her hired as your full time stylist and makeup artist. Apparently he had instructed her on exactly how you should be styled.

“Nothing but the best for my girl,” He had said when he introduced the two of you.

She didn’t say much as she dressed you, she said even less as she applied your makeup. You figured she was just concentrating on her work.

“Do you like it?” She asked after all was said and done.

“Yes, thank you.” You examined your face in the mirror. “Do you think he’ll like it?”

She met your eyes in your reflection and nodded. “He will.”

You hesitated on your way downstairs—you still felt uneasy being around everyone. You were sure they talked about you when you weren’t around.

Elvis appeared at the bottom of the stairs. “There you are.”

Your anxiety was relieved at the sight of him. “What do you think?”

“You’re perfect,” He said just as someone came to the door. “It’s for you.”

He took you by the hand and went to open the door. Your eyes widened when you saw Andrea standing there.

“Oh my god,” You said with a stunned smile, looking up at Elvis. “Why?”

“I thought it’d cheer you up after the week you’ve had,” He said before addressing her. “Andrea.”

“Elvis,” She said shortly as you hugged her.

“It’s so good to see you again,” You said. “I’m glad you’re here.”

“Well, I was summoned.” She gestured to Elvis with a sarcastic smile.

“Thank you so much for leaving your post at the gates of heaven, angel,” He responded before stepping forward to kiss your cheek. “I’ll let you ladies do whatever it is that you do.”

“Thank you, E.”

“You’re welcome, birdie.”

You watched him leave before facing Andrea. She looked around the foyer with her arms crossed—her expression bleak.

“It’s quieter upstairs, come on.”

She nodded and followed you. You led her to the office upstairs and plopped down on the black, leather couch.

“Sit.” You laughed, patting the spot in front of you. “Tell me how you’ve been.”

“I’ve been fine.” She took a seat facing you. “I couldn’t believe my eyes when I saw you in the paper.”

“Yeah, everything happened really fast,” You said. “What do you think?”

“About what?”

“Elvis and me.”

She looked off, quirking an eyebrow. “It’s…a lot.”

You chuckled. “Good or bad?”

“Shouldn’t you tell me?”

“Hmmm…good.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, it’s good.”

You smiled, she offered a small one in return.

“What happened to Joel from Hawaii?”

“Oh, well…we separated.”

She nodded. “Because you decided to be with Elvis?”

“Well, I mean~ It’s more complicated than that,” You said. “Elvis and I, we just…have history.”

“How far back?” Andrea asked.

“Since before I met you, I guess.” You thought for a moment. “Yeah, a while before I met you.”

“So, this mystery man was…”

“Elvis.”

She continued to look stunned but she laughed now. “For the love of god, you said he was married.”

You laughed along with her. “I had to throw you off somehow.”

“You are so full of surprises,” She said. “First you disappear without a trace, then you show up engaged, and now you’ve left that guy for his famous friend.”

“Oh, god, don’t say it like that,” You complained, laughing despite yourself. “I told you it was complicated. I tried with Joel, but…it wouldn’t have worked out.”

“Why?”

“Because I’m in love with Elvis.”

“Well…you’re causing riots in the streets.” You were grateful for the change in subject. “People are either tearing newspapers from store walls or breaking down the door to find your latest outfit. It’s pure chaos.”

“Really?”

“It’s like you’re famous.”

You smiled, shaking your head in denial. “I don’t know about that.”

Andrea sighed thoughtfully, falling silent for a moment. “You’re so…different now.”

“Good or bad?”

“…I can tell you’re in love.”

*

“A lot of people are convinced you don’t have a voice.”

“Are they really?”

You smiled down at Elvis—the telephone to your ear as you sat in his lap. At first you refused the interview. You didn’t want your voice broadcasted on the radio and you didn’t want your words plastered all over the paper. But Elvis talked you into it, promising to be by your side the entire time.

“You two are so different. You come from different backgrounds, he’s older~”

“Mhm~”

“You’re polar opposites really.”

“Yes.”

“What we all want to know is what you get up to. What do you talk about?”

“Oh, we get up to all kinds of stuff.”

Elvis quirked an eyebrow, gesturing to the slip of paper on the desk as a reminder for you to stick to the script.

“We do all the usual things.” You tilted your head to read the words from the page. “We have…very interesting conversations.”

“What’s interesting to a nineteen year old girl?”

“You should ask Elvis.”

He patted your thigh admonishingly—smirking despite himself.

“Anyway, I’m almost twenty.”

“What do you talk about, almost twenty?”

“You’re so funny.”

“Humor us here in radioland.”

“We talk about all kinds of things. He’s an intellectual.”

“He teaches you a lot, huh?”

“Sure.”

“There are some fans out there that refuse to believe the two of you are the real thing. What do you say to them?”

“I understand, honestly. I can’t believe it myself sometimes.”

You rolled your eyes at that one—cutting an eye at Elvis.

“There’s talk of marriage, any truth to that?”

“Not that we know of.”

“Folks are saying there’s gonna be some serious consequences if you aren’t married.”

“…Is that what they’re saying in radioland?”

“Does that scare you?”

“…Stick to the script, Quincy.”

The interview came to an end and you looked at Elvis with a serious expression. He laughed. “It wasn’t that bad, was it?”

“‘Serious consequences?’”

“Oh, birdie~”

“Don’t tell me not to worry.”

He tilted his head, smiling at you silently. You stood with a sigh and grabbed your cigarettes off the corner of the desk.

“Tell me what they’re saying,” You demanded. “Andrea tells me what they say in the paper, E, you can’t keep it from me.”

“They want us to get married.”

“So I’ve heard. Why?”

“Hell if I know. These people want something different every goddamn day. It’s just another thing.”

You struck a match and lit the end of your cigarette. “What are they saying is gonna happen if we don’t?”

He shrugged. “They’ll ban me across the country on the basis of morality, send us to jail, hang us from the ceiling, and whatever else they can come up with. Shit, maybe they’ll send us to the fucking moon. I have no idea what they say in those meetings.”

You took a drag from your cigarette. “How can they force people to do things like this?”

“I don’t know, but we’re sorting everything out as best we can.”

“You keep saying that.”

“And you keep wasting your time worrying.” He rounded the desk, leaning against the front of it as he spoke. “What’s the worst that can happen? We end up having to get married?”

“Yes, Elvis, that’s the worst that can happen,” You said. “That means they have all the control.”

“No one has all the control. It’s a bunch of people sitting around talking, that’s all it is.”

“The last time a bunch of people sat around talking about you you got shipped to Germany.”

“Goddamnit, birdie, will you let it go?”

You turned to leave the office, too annoyed to say anything else, but he caught your arm and made you face him.

“I’m not gonna let anything hurt you or take you away,” He said. “Not when I just got you back.”

You met his eyes without speaking—your jaw set.

“I’ll handle it. Alright?”

“…Alright.”

You weren’t sure what decisions were made or who had put everything together, but, soon, you were getting married.

You had woken up on the eve of your wedding day—unbeknownst to you—to Liz laying out different designs for hair, makeup, and your dress. When you asked where Elvis had gone you were told that he and the rest of the guys were already in Nevada.

“We have these.” Liz showed you the dresses in a hurry. “We can get the dress of your choice fitted and altered overnight. That way it’ll be ready tomorrow morning.”

“What is happening?” You asked, bewildered. “I need to talk to Elvis, right now.”

“There’s no time. You’re leaving as soon as Andrea gets here.”

As if on cue, Andrea came bustling through the door—luggage in tow. “There’s the bride-to-be~”

“Andrea, do you have any idea what’s going on?” You asked. “Who’s orchestrating all of this?”

“I don’t know.” She looked concerned now. “Jerry called me last night and told me that Parker wanted everybody here by eight this morning.”

“Liz, who told you to be here?”

“Parker.”

You looked around the room and stopped one of the people packing your bags. You asked them the same question, although you were already sure of the answer.

“The Colonel.”

You groaned, this couldn’t be happening. The entire place was in chaos around you.

“I’m sorry, but you have to choose now,” Liz said apologetically.

Andrea tried to aid you in making a decision. You could’ve cried at the thought of choosing your wedding dress fifteen minutes after waking up on what you had assumed would be a normal day. You had minutes to contemplate your decision as Liz dressed you in the clothes you would be traveling in.

“I like the V-cut. Don’t you?” Andrea asked

“I don’t know,” You said. “What do you think he’d want, Liz?”

“For christ sake, it’s your wedding too,” Andrea said. “Which one do you want?”

“Leaving for the airport!”

Liz encouraged you to go with your first choice. “It’s the best option.”

You didn’t have time to think as you were ushered from the house. You arrived in Nevada that night after a miserable flight. At the hotel, you were rushed from the car and into the back entrance of the building.

“Where are we going?” You must’ve asked a thousand times already. You were relieved when you saw Jerry meeting you at the end of the hall. “Where is he?”

“He’s been on the phone for hours trying to sort things out with Parker,” Jerry said as he led the way. “He’s tryna to see if he can’t get this whole thing done away with.”

Jerry led you to a conference room that had a long chestnut table at the center with padded office chairs. You immediately spotted Elvis pacing on the telephone. He handed the phone off when he saw you.

“Come over here, birdie.” He guided you to the corner of the room—ducking his head as he spoke. “Are you okay? Is Andrea with you?”

“What is happening?” You asked, matching his low voice. You didn’t recognize anyone in the room apart from Elvis and Jerry. The men sitting around the end of the table all wore suits and had expressions that appeared permanently stern. They didn’t take their eyes off of you the entire time.

“Are we ready to sign the papers?”

“Nah, we’re still figuring some things.”

You shook your head in disbelief. “Is this real?”

Elvis rubbed his face. “I’ve been talking to that son of a bitch for hours. He sent me here to talk to these people but they’re not budging. He keeps saying his hands are tied and there’s nothing he can do.”

“Do you believe that?”

“I have no reason not to. He’s been trying to get the public on our side.”

“This isn’t about the public.”

“It’s not?”

“Is Parker trying as hard as he could be?”

Elvis shrugged, looking off for a moment. “I don’t think they’re gonna let us leave here without signing those papers.”

He was right—they didn’t. Elvis Presley was given until midnight on that day to declare you his wife or risk a countrywide ban on the basis of morality. To which, as a direct consequence, he would be ordered to answer to all statewide warrants made for his arrest. That was only his end of the bargain, there was no telling what they’d do to you.

Your marriage was official by 11:56 that night.

The party following would be strictly for photos—a tight hour of partying for the camera and then off to bed.

“The bride needs her beauty sleep.”

You didn’t get a chance to see Elvis again until you were preparing to walk down the aisle. There had been no rehearsal, you had no idea how it was going to go.

The ceremony happened fast, like everything else. They instructed the two of you on every move you made and had you pause for photos along the way. You said your vows—the generic ones the minister told you to repeat—kissed, and you were escorted directly from the altar into a press conference.

“You just sit there and look pretty, mama,” Elvis said. “I’ll do all the talking.”

You were relieved. You were too overwhelmed by the crowd to speak. You sat by his side without tearing your gaze away from him for more than a minute. You were so deeply and devastatingly in love with him—yet you felt no emotion towards your union. You were married before your eyes and you had no time to react.

“What can we expect from the happy couple moving forward?”

“Keep an eye out for us, you’ll see.”

You were whisked away directly for your “honeymoon.” In reality, you spent hours on a plane by yourself back to Memphis—Elvis was going to be away filming in Los Angeles and you were on your way back home.

You hadn’t had a moment alone with Elvis since the night before the wedding and most of that time was spent calling around trying to get it canceled. You didn’t want to leave without speaking to him, but you didn’t get the chance.

“I need to talk to you,” You tried to tell him as he walked you to your flight. There were people on either side of each of you—obstructing the paparazzi’s view.

“Go up with Ray,” He said, gesturing to the stairway of the plane. “I’ll see you back at the house.”

“Elvis,” You said, still trying to get through to him.

“It’s okay, birdie.” He kissed your forehead before you were being ushered up the steps.

“No.”

“I love you, okay?”

You caught a final glimpse of his back as he was rushed to his car. You were on your way back to the house you had left in a frenzy two days prior. You should’ve felt different. Or maybe you were expecting too much.

Andrea was already at Graceland when you arrived. She greeted you as you walked through the door.

“Mrs. Presley,” She said, hugging you. “Welcome to your honeymoon.”

“Wow.” You looked around the foyer. “It’s everything I ever wanted.”

There was a party happening downstairs but you weren’t sure it had anything to do with you. There was always a party downstairs. A constant conjugation of people.

“You aren’t going to spend every day lying by the phone are you?”

“No, Andrea. I told you, I’m just tired.”

She slumped onto the end of the bed. “You aren’t pregnant, are you?”

You were bewildered by the question. “No, why would you ask?”

“It’s been a week since you’ve gotten out of bed.”

“It has not.”

“It has.”

“It’s Tuesday.”

“It’s Friday.”

Time passed like that whenever he was away. You had thought you escaped that feeling forever but you were being reminded of it all over again. The days didn’t matter without him, they were too long and too demanding.

“Serena and Liz are here,” Andrea continued. She stripped the duvet from your legs and stood to turn the lights on. “There are people here to take your picture.”

You complained and shielded your eyes. “The same people from the other day?”

“The same people,” She confirmed. “They’ve been coming every day. They want you sitting somewhere downstairs.”

“Sitting?”

“That’s what they said.”

“Why?”

“I don’t know. Maybe because it’s a special day.”

“Is it?”

Andrea revealed a tiny black box with a red bow wrapped around it. It only dawned on you then that you had forgotten your own birthday throughout all the hustle and bustle of the last few days. “Consider it a birthday/late wedding gift.”

“You shouldn’t have gotten me anything,” You said, taking the gift. “I completely forgot about it.”

“I didn’t,” She said. “You’re my best friend.”

You were instructed to sit outside with Andrea as you were served sweet tea and lemonade.

“Where’s Nancy?”

“Maybe she didn’t want to be on film.”

They wanted footage of you around Graceland doing everyday things. They wanted insight into what your everyday life was like here—married to the king. Expect, he wasn’t here, and you were being forced to smile in his absence.

“Just pretend they aren’t there,” Andrea said in a grumble. She wasn’t too keen on being photographed but she set herself aside to avoid you looking like a lunatic having lemonade alone.

“What do they want from me?”

“Maybe we should start dancing.”

You laughed.

After the photographers left, you retreated back into the bedroom to continue to wait by the phone. Andrea griped about going out—to which you reminded her that you’d be attacked or worse if you dared to venture out.

“There has to be some way to get out and get a decent drink,” She argued. “Serena can’t call anyone?”

“I don’t want to worry her.”

“What’s his name that follows you around everywhere?”

“Ray.”

“Tell Ray to get a car and call the bar to tell them you’re coming.”

You shook your head. “I’m not supposed to go out without Elvis.”

She scoffed. “He’s probably out having the time of his life.”

“I doubt it. We can drink downstairs.”

“What is this, a five star resort?”

You smiled wearily. You didn’t want to go out anyway. The phone rang, startling you delightfully. You glanced at Andrea, who understood immediately.

“I’m going.” She stood to leave. “Tell him I said hi.”

“I’m really going to.” You laughed as she left, bringing the phone to your ear. “Hello?”

“Hey, it’s me.”

“…Joel?” Your eyes widened in shock.

“Hey,” He chuckled in a tone so casual it made you ill.

“Hi.” You sounded reserved as a result of your shock.

“I-I figured I’d get you here,” He said. “I’m sorry to call out of nowhere like this I just…I saw the news.”

You deflated, eyes closed. With everything else happening you hadn’t even taken a moment to consider how Joel would feel. You felt immensely guilty that he had heard the news of everything from the media and not directly from you.

“God, Joel, I’m so sorry.” You suppressed the urge to cry. “I should‘ve called~”

“It’s fine.”

“It…it all happened so fast.”

He hesitated for a moment. “Yeah, it did.”

“I’m not just saying that, I swear,” You said. “I didn’t even know it was happening. None of us did…”

“That’s kind of what the guys were saying.”

“Do you still talk with them?”

“Yeah, we’re like family, so…”

You nodded. The circles you were tracing into your knee began to blur with tears as you spoke. “How’s New York?”

He hummed indifferently. “It’s quiet in some places.”

“Well, yeah.”

“Who knew?”

You laughed, trying not to alert him to the fact that you were crying. “Are you happy?”

“I’m figuring it out.”

“That’s good.”

“Are you?”

“Hm?”

“Are you happy?”

“I am.”

For some reason, you felt like you were telling a lie. You were happy. There had been moments in the past few weeks that you felt you couldn’t possibly be happier. But there was a part of you that clung to whatever heartache you had left. Perhaps you wanted to punish yourself with it or use it as a reminder that you weren’t completely heartless.

Joel was silent on the other line but you hadn’t noticed until he spoke again. “I’m glad. Congratulations.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologize. That’s not why I called.”

“Why did you call?”

He seemed to hesitate before saying—

“I just wanted to make sure you were okay.”

“Oh…well, thank you.”

“I wanted to say also…” He started. “A-And I don’t want you to think I’m tryin to talk you out of your decision or anything, it's just…it’s a lot happening all at once. It’d be a lot for anyone. So…don’t feel obligated to be something you aren’t because you love a person.”

“…Thank you for saying that.”

“…Anyway, I better let you off of here,” He said, laughing shortly. “I’ll see you in the paper I guess.”

“Yeah.” You cleared your throat. “Don’t have too much fun in New York.”

“I’ll try my best. Take care.”

“You too.”

“O-Oh and, uh, happy birthday.”

You closed your eyes, smiling softly. “Thank you, Joel.”

“Bye now,” He chuckled.

“Bye,” You said, waiting to hear the line go dead before hanging up.

You sat there for a moment, standing abruptly in search of the scrap of paper you used to write down the number of where Elvis was staying. Whoever answered gave you the run around for a while before actually putting you through.

“Who are you again?”

“His wife.”

He answered with an overly delicate tone—one that told you that his failure to touch base hadn’t gone unnoticed even by himself.

“Hey, everything alright?”

“Where are you?”

“I’m~ What do you mean where am I, honey? I’m working.”

You sat down on the edge of the bed. “It’s been a week since I’ve seen or heard from you.”

“Has it?”

“It has.”

“It’s Tuesday already?”

“It’s Friday.”

He tried to dismiss the argument. “You know how time slips away.”

You hummed, agitated. “Yeah, it does that when I don’t hear from you for weeks too.”

“Birdie,” He chided. “Are you checkin up on me?”

“No.” He laughed on the other line. “It’s not funny. When were you gonna call? Next month? Never? I mean, it’s my birthday today. Did you know that?”

“Did I know that?” He asked. “Of course I knew that.”

“You’re lying.”

“I’m not just kicked back havin a goddamn party, honey, I have shit to do while I’m here~”

“I’m not debating that, E, I just thought you’d call.”

“I was going to.”

“Were you?”

“I’m so glad to hear your voice. It’s like music to my ears.”

“Elvis~”

“I’m sorry you couldn’t stay up here with us, I don’t think it was really a part of the plan before the wedding and everything.”

“It’s fine~”

“Next time I’m gonna bring you with me, show you what Hollywood is like. What do you think?”

“That’d be nice.”

He promised that he would make it happen. You didn’t care if you were together in Memphis or LA, you only wanted to be near him.

“How d’you like Serena and Ray?” He asked.

“I feel bad for them.” You smiled when he laughed. “I don’t see what they’re here for. I don’t go anywhere or do anything.”

“They’re there to make sure you’re taken care of, that’s all. To protect you.”

“I wouldn’t need them to protect me if you were here.”

“I know, baby. What do you want me to do?”

There was nothing he could do. He could stay on the phone and talk to you for a couple of hours but it wouldn’t do any good.

“Birdie?”

“Joel called me a minute ago.”

You weren’t trying to evoke any specific reaction, but looking back now, telling Elvis about the call seemed like nothing more than a desperate grab for attention. He didn’t sound like he felt any particular way about it when he responded.

“Did he?”

“Yes,” You said, guilelessly.

“What’d he say?” There was a slight uptake to the end of his sentence—was he irritated with you?

“Nothing really, just congratulations and everything.”

“‘Congratulations?’”

He didn’t sound convinced.

“He said he wanted to make sure I was okay.”

“Well, I’m sure you thought that was nice and everything, honey, but he doesn’t need to concern himself with your well-being.”

“Elvis,” You said admonishingly. “He’s an old friend.”

“Old friend my ass.” He laughed shortly. “Don’t play with me.”

“I’m not. It was a harmless call.”

“So harmless you’re running to tell me?”

“‘Running to tell?’ Please.”

“I don’t care if you talk to him, I just think he should speak to me first.”

“Why?”

“Because you’re my wife. I don’t want him getting any ideas about worming his way back in.”

You laughed, mostly at the thought of Joel ‘worming his way’ back into your life. You loved him—he loved you too, undeniably. However, you’d gone past a certain point with him and there was no going back. The spell was broken and any magic you once had with him was gone.

“I don’t think he’ll call again,” You said. “I’m telling you as a courtesy.”

“Well, I appreciate it.” He shifted on the other line with a sigh. “I’m gonna have to get offa here, baby. They need me.”

I need you, you thought. “Okay.”

“I’m gonna see about getting you and Andrea out here for the last week or so,” He said. “I’ll tell Parker it’s for the press.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. That way I can keep an eye on you.”

You didn’t realize that that would be the last time the two of you would be apart for more than forty-eight hours.

You seldom parted. You were either by his side or within his vicinity. Eventually it became the new normal for you to always be together. It was uncomfortable at first, being around the guys.

You had a feeling they hated you.

*

“What?”

“Where is she?”

“Getting dressed.”

You rushed out of the bathroom—fully dressed for the day—to meet Andrea at the bedroom door. Elvis was off from filming again for a few months and your days had been filled with only each other. Andrea was there, sent by the other guys to get you away so that they could have him.

“They want you downstairs,” She said to Elvis—arms crossed and lips slightly pursed.

“Tell them I’m busy.”

“What am I, your messenger?”

“Are you theirs?”

“Yeah, in exchange for some human decency.”

You stopped them before they kept going. “We were headed downstairs anyway. Right, baby?”

He put his arm around you. “That’s right, baby.”

“I actually need to talk to you about something,” Andrea said to you. “It can’t wait. It’s too important.”

You stepped towards her—concerned. “Is everything alright?”

“Birdie,” Elvis said expectantly, waiting for you to come with him.

“We’re only gonna be a second,” You said with an apologetic expression as you ushered Andrea into the room. “I left something in the bathroom anyway.”

“Straight down when you’re done,” He said, leaning in to kiss your cheek. You smiled and he left.

“What’s wrong, Drea?”

“Nothing, I just said that so he’d go away.”

“Why?”

“Because you’ve been inseparable and we’re all suffering because of it.”

You laughed. “Suffering how?”

“Do you realize that I don’t know a single person in this house apart from you?” She sat down on the edge of the bed. “Ray and Serena aren’t even around to talk to these days.”

“I don’t really know them either,” You said, going to the bathroom. “I haven’t even spoken to some of them.”

“It’s not the same. You’re with Elvis.” She met you at the bathroom door, watching as you opened the pill bottle that you’d gotten off the counter. “Again?”

“They help me relax,” You said. “Do you want one? They’re harmless.”

“No.” She continued watching you.

“I’m sorry I haven’t made time for you lately,” You said. “It’s so hard. Nothing exists when we’re together.”

“You poor things.”

“We should head down now.”

Andrea insisted that the two of you go for a round of cards in the sitting room or a walk outside. You agreed for a change—mostly because you felt guilty for not spending time with her.

You had managed to get away that afternoon and you decided to make it up to her. You spent the day relaxing and catching up on some self care. It was a welcomed break that you didn’t know you needed. You had gotten so caught up with her that night had fallen before you realized how late it was.

“It’s the same thing every time,” Andrea complained as you laid in her bed watching television—a fresh coat of polish adorning your nails. “Why do they even bother?”

“You really expect them to get off the island every episode?”

“Isn’t that the point?”

There was a knock at the door that cut your rebuttal short. You looked at Andrea who shrugged and stood carefully to answer it.

“What, Red?” She asked when she saw who it was, a twinge of annoyance lying under her tone.

“He wants the girl,” Red said in a similar tone, obviously forced to fetch you.

You stood to put your clothes back on—Andrea had given you something more comfortable to wear earlier.

“Is that a question or what?”

“Can you send her upstairs?”

“Please?”

“Please.”

“First of all, Red, the girl has a name, and second she’s not here.”

You stopped shuffling around the room to listen.

“What do you mean she ain’t here?”

“I mean she’s not here.”

“She’s supposed to be.”

“Well, she isn’t.”

Red sighed—you pictured him contemplating his next move. “So, what am I supposed to tell ‘im?”

Andrea laughed. “Hell if I know or care.”

“Where the hell is she, Andrea?”

“I don’t know. I’m not her keeper.”

They stood there for a moment, Andrea reveling silently. Red eventually left, mumbling under his breath about going to find you. She shut the door and faced you.

“You should’ve seen the look on his face,” She said through her laughter as she walked back over to her bed. “He’s scared shitless.”

“You shouldn’t play games like that,” You said, laughing despite yourself. “He’s going to want to know where I am.”

“I know, but let’s give him time to squirm at least,” She said, gesturing for you to sit back down. “Come on, humor me a little. This is the most fun I’ve had in weeks.”

You hesitated—you knew you had a choice whether to stay or go, you just didn’t know which outcome you’d rather face. You could stay, but you’d hardly enjoy yourself knowing Elvis would be worried. He’d think you were missing or that you ran off when Red tells him that he couldn’t find you. But leaving meant ruining the night for Andrea, and you were supposed to be making up for abandoning her.

She spoke again. “You can call and tell him you’re with me if it’ll make you feel better. Or you can go, really. It’s just a stupid joke.”

You shook your head, forcing a short laugh as you spoke. “N-No. You’re right.”

“About what?”

“I-I don’t know…you’re always right.”

You laughed nervously and rejoined her on the bed. The phone rang—you both knew who it was.

“Don’t answer it,” You said before she could. “It’s fine.”

The silence between the two of you as the phone rang out was tense, and uncomfortable—at least it was for you. Eventually it stopped ringing and all that remained was the sound of the television.

“Do you think they’ll make it out this time?”

“I sure hope so.”

[allykakamatsu]

Playing XC2 if you played Torna first is a very different experience

Aka, a rough list of all my reactions to things that I shouldn't of reacted to on a first run cause I played Torna first-

(Note, I played both games for the first time years ago, this is just a recreation of my reactions.)

(Chapter 1) Aww Azurda has new adopted human and this one calls him Gramps that's adorable!

meeting new Torna for the first time Aww it's a cute Gormotti girl-! Why is Malos here-?! JIN WHY ARE YOU WITH MALOS WHAT THE HELL HAPPENED?!

Okay so Malos has a blade now, checks out given that his core is probably wrecked after what Mythra did to him but I guess Aegis's can be Drivers now.

JIN WHY DID YOU STAB A CHILD WHAT THE HELL HAPPENED?!?!?!

Oh, so Pyra is Mythra's new self. She seems sweet but I want my sassy girl back.

(Chapter 2) Yay Gormott! Glad to see it's not burned to the ground anymore.

If I had a nickel for every time Brighid attacked us thinking we were criminals I'd have 2 nickels. Which isn't a lot but it's funny it happened twice.

Why isn't Pyra's fire affected by the water- oh is it cause of Mythra?

Oh, so Mórag is Brighid's new driver. Should've figured that out sooner but they're a cool looking pair. Wonder where Aegeon is though.

(Chapter 3) Hey Cole's scar kinda reminds me of Minoth, wonder what happened to him.

In between my tears over what just happened MYTHRA'S BACK FUCK YEAH!!!

(Chapter 4) Addam why the hell are you wearing a cloak you weren't wearing it in that scene.

MYTHRA I GET THAT YOU'RE UPSET AND PROBABLY STILL DEPRESSED OVER MILTON I AM TOO BUT I'M SORRY!!!

Wait.... COLE WAS MINOTH?!?! Jeez man what happened? I know you said you were a failed Flesh Eater but I didn't realise that meant this...

Also Minoth man, I love you but I think old age has made you senile why the hell are you sending us to Amalthus?

get's control of Mythra YES!! And omg her specials are her old arts that's adorable!!

Oh so this is the 'Evil Tifa' I've heard people joke about- wait.... MIKHAIL?!?! MY SON?! Okay this means you survived whatever the hell Amalthus did that's good, but it's been 500 years how are you still alive regardless? Also he's evil now which is bad but at least he's with his dad Jin.

WHY ARE YOU MAKING ME FIGHT MY SON GAME?!?!?!

Okay upside, Brighid's back at least and yup she's still awesome. And her specials are her old arts too that's still adorable.

Haze my babygirl you're back-! Wait, Fan la Norne? I'm with Mythra on this one when did that happen? And why is half of your core gone?

(More under cut)

(Chapter 5) Okay yeah I'm doubly with Mythra something happened to Haze and I am concerned.

Okay I can see why Addam picked this place for the Tornan refugees this place is beautiful.

Wait, Zeke's the Prince of where? I have not heard of Tantal before, is it new or am I forgetting something? (it was in-fact, relatively new)

in the same tone of 'Dinkleberg' Amalthus..... I can't prove it yet but you're the one behind Haze's missing core aren't you?

YES!! REX!! AMALTHUS WAS MALOS'S DRIVER DON'T TRUST HIM!!

Jin, I again ask what the hell happened to you?

Empty Moment- OH GOD THAT'S HIS LEVEL 4 I DID NOT WANT TO KNOW WHAT THAT FELT LIKE AAGGHH!!

Jin what are you doing- HAZE NO!!! JIN I KNOW HAZE HATED AMALTHUS AND HE PROBABLY DID SOMETHING TO HER BUT WHY DID YOU DO THAT?!?!

after I'm finished crying Oh, hey Aegeon, was wondering when you'd show up. And that's the Emperor of Mor Ardain? Aww, he looks like an even more baby Hugo-! Wait... Hugo.... oh no.

(Chapter 6) Niall what are you doing no no no-! NOT AGAIN!!!

Okay, Nia, thank you for stopping history from repeating itself.

The Tantalese are descendent from Addam, that can't be right Addam went to Leftheria-! Zettar started this, didn't he?

No tier lists I don't care if Aegeon sucks I'm gonna use him anyway because I am biased.

'Cadet Branch of the Royal Family' Yup, Zeke is descendant from Zettar, RIP my man having to be in the same bloodline as him.

GAME WHY ARE YOU MAKING ME FIGHT MY SON AGAIN-!! WHY DOES MIKHAIL HAVE A CORE CRYSTAL?!?!

Pyra Mythra no no no you two aren't just made to destroy don't go with them no no NO!!!

(Chapter 7) Ah, so this is where Addam hid the third sword. 5 minutes of gameplay later I can see why he hid it down here, this place would drive anyone mad.

Is this what it feels like to be on the receiving end of Addam's talent art? Cause all these reinforcements have to be equivalent to being perma toppled and launched with how long this takes.

Addam drop the hood already.

Malos you fucking bastard when I get my hands on you....!! Jin you can stay but you're on think fucking ice pardon the pun.

YES!! REX GIVE THOSE GIRLS THERAPY THEY NEED IT!!!

(Chapter 8) You know, I'm pretty sure most people picked Pyra here calls Pneuma Mythra but I am not most people

YAY!! I can play as Jin again! And he is somehow even more overpowered than before!

Jin why are you lying to Brighid, she's more mature but she's otherwise the same.

Jin... ate.... oh... I should've.... figured but.... oh god.... I just thought loosing Lora messed him up but having to eat.... yeah between that and Amalthus no wonder he's like this.

Torna......

Aww, nice Jin's still in there, he let us go and told Brighid the truth.

(Rest of the game cause I love it but I forget the chapter markers) So.... um.... Jin I'm glad you were able to find love again after Lora but why did it have to be Malos? Like this is weirdly sweet but this is a weird progression.

AMALTHUS I KNEW YOU WERE THE ONE WHO MESSED WITH HAZE MALOS YOU ARE OFFICIALLY PRIORITY 2 THIS BASTARD DIES FIRST!!

Okay that's how Mikhail survived this long so I guess Amalthus was good for one thing.

No no no no no no no- MIKHAIL!!!!! Why.....?!?- Oh god they're showing the scene where he met Lora and Jin again GAME WHY ARE YOU DOING THIS TO ME?!?!

Okay I wanted to help Jin and stop Amalthus anyway but now I'm doing it for my baby boy.

Don't worry Jin I've got your back. THIS IS FOR LORA HAZE MIKHAIL AND EVERYONE ELSE YOU BASTARD!!!!!!

...... J... Jin...... chapter 9 is living up to it's name because I was a rainstorm of tears after this

Malos for Jin's sake I don't want to kill you anymore can you please stop- damn it!!

Never thought I'd be sad to see Malos go but, here we are.

Pyra, Mythra, what are you- no no no no NO!! POPPI I KNOW YOU'RE KEEPING YOUR PROMISE AND WE HAVE TO LEAVE BUT LET ME GO I HAVE TO SAVE THEM!!!!

bawling crying until the two come back and the tears become happy tears Heh... thank god....

[itsgrimeytime]

The Nurse (Part Thirteen) || Rick Grimes (TWD)

Part: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13...

AVAILABLE ON AO3

Taglist: @strnqer @1985bitch @curlycarley @imaginemyfavoritefics @crazytxgradstudent @addisonnie @whos6claire @taylvvrr @quicksilversg1rl @catt-leya @1tsk1tty @hopefulatrocity @fuseburner @idkseraphine @emo-potato-virgil @mcuclintasha @8crazy-freak8 @peepeepoopoobutt @crazyunsexycool @alixxhere @allthetroubleiveseen @dxrkymxrchy @taylormarieee

rick grimes taglist: @golden-hoax

Summary: Before all this, you were a nurse. A nurse who had patients, one of which was a man in a coma. A sheriff, you think, it was all kinda fuzzy now. When it all went sideways, you set up what you could for the man - but had to leave. You’d always wondered where he’d ended up; until in your search of shelter, you run into a familiar face.

TWS: mentions of death, survival instinct, injury pain, gun violence (just violence in general), gunshot wounds, swearing, and all things typical of TWD.

[[A/N: Short chapter but the next few may be much longer, bc we're prepping for the sequel: The Lover. Hope you enjoy lovelies !! Thanks for reading !!!]]

"You doing alright?"

You startled for a moment, hovering over the chopped tomatoes -Carol needed help with dinner, you needed to use your arm. It worked out. You hadn't even realized you zoned out, the tomatoes laid out in front of you, and the knife raised to start chopping into the next one.

The juice was all over your hands, and it just felt a bit like... like at the hospital. And... And when-

You dropped the knife.

"Y/N?" She was now turned fully toward you, hip popped out and head tilted to the right -looking at you, "-I asked if everything was alright?"

"What?" You cleared your throat, blinking to get some of the blurriness out of your eyes, "-Yeah, I'm. I'm fine, really, I just need to-"

"Take a break, hun," she hummed, all syrupy sweet, but her eyes were rather serious. If you didn't go, she'd make you, "-I can handle it for now, go see loverboy."

You laughed, "Loverboy?"

Carol neatly continued, as if you hadn't spoken a word, "And do me a favor?"

"Of course," you answered, on your feet and ready to exit -eager to help.

"Talk to him," she spoke, frankly, "-he's worried about you. We all are. Just-"

You frowned.

"Talk to him, please."

Your walk felt short. You knew it wasn't realistic, you knew that the walk out to the farm was longer but everything felt a tick off. Everything felt like it was so fast around you -your heart pounding out of your chest loud and clear in your ears.

It was all you could focus on.

"Hey, sweetheart," Rick appeared in front of you, smile big and something in you softened, "-whatcha visitin' me for?"

And then he seemed to pause, blue eyes settling on you in a manner that felt curious -like he was seeing something new. Something he hadn't before.

"Gimme just a second, baby," he whispered to you, meeting your eyes, "-wait right here."

Your lips moved before you could think about it, rehearsed, "O-Okay."

He looked at you for a moment, concern sweeping over his eyebrows, "You wanna come with me? It'll take just a second."

"Yes, please," you murmured out, "-with you, it's... I know it's safe."

"Go," Hershel spoke, suddenly interjecting -you were a little embarrassed he had heard, "-I can finish up out 'ere."

And normally, you thought Rick would've lingered, finishing up a few things before setting off. But this time, with you holding his hand as your life depended on it, he made a quick decision.

He merely wrapped his fingers tightly around yours, squeezing and guiding you back to the cell. His cell.

Like he knew it would best calm you, since he was your home now, and something in you softened even more. Your eyes were starting to get foggy, as he gently sat you on the bed -decidedly kneeling just in front of you, holding your interlaced hands on your lap. You sink into the bed, and the smell- it smelt like Rick all around you.

You wondered distantly if it would be too much.

"Alright," he spoke, softly, and taking his freehand to guide your eyes to his, "-I ain't gonna push ya, you know that. But-"

You tightened your grip on his hand, brushing your fingers along the back of it -a combination of the turmoil deep in your stomach. You thought for a second you couldn't.

"Take your time, darlin'," he hummed, brushing his fingers along your jawline, "-I ain't got anywhere to be."

You laughed, a sort of wet laugh as you wiped at your eyes, "You so do."

"Not when you're upset," he corrected, tilting to match your eyes, "-nothing else matters, ya know that?"

You sighed, pulling both your hands to your face (which included his own), and covered your eyes, embarrassment burning at your cheeks, "It's just... I didn't. I didn't want you to worry."

"I'm always gonna worry."

"Rick," you echoed.

"No, I-" he started but seemed to recenter himself, quiet and soft, "-I love you that makes ya somebody to worry about forever for me."

On instinct, you responded, "I love you too. It's just- It feels. I just want to forget it."

"I know ya do," he hummed, "-I wish I could make it better for ya. I wish I could take the... the pain just so you would feel better.

"Rick," you echoed, unlatching your hand and cupping his cheeks -tender and focused, "-you make it better just by being here, I swear. You don't... I can bear this, as long as you're okay, as long as I know you are."

"Promise me somethin'?" he muttered, eyes fluttering over your face, "-even if I'm not..."

"Rick, don't-"

"Even if ya don't know if I'm safe, or... or alive, stay safe. Just- Just on the off chance I'm alive, take care of yourself."

"Rick," you frowned, choking back tears.

"Hey, hey, don't cry darlin'," he whispered, taking his hands and wiping them away, "-I just need to make sure. I can't... I can't let you sacrifice yourself again for me."

"Okay," you sniffled, eyes matching his blue ones, "-okay. I will, I promise. And you- you do the same okay? If you can't find me-"

He stiffened under your touch -jaw clenched, but you kept speaking.

"-keep going."

He didn't say anything really, just pulled you to his chest and held you there -safe and surrounded by Rick. Lips dancing along your hair, you breathed in his scent and cried (just a little) into his shoulder.

"I'd never stop," he suddenly spoke, and you startled for a moment, "-I'd never stop lookin' for you."

Your heart beat faster in your chest then, as you whispered to yourself, "I know, Rick, I know."

[ladykailitha]

Royal Pain Part 27

Just two more chapters to go. The end and a short epilogue.

Here we have more communication and the girls threaten to murder Eddie if he leaves Steve sad again.

Pt 1 Pt 2 Pt 3 Pt 4 Pt 5 Pt 6 Pt 7 Pt 8 Pt 9 Pt 10 Pt 11 Pt 12 Pt 13 Pt 14 Pt 15 Pt 16 Pt 17 Pt 18 Pt 19 Pt 20 Pt 21 Meta|Pt 22|Pt 23|Pt 24|Pt 25|Pt 26

****

Steve and Eddie curled up on the sofa that must have been older then they were put together. But Steve didn’t care. He was wrapped up in each other’s arms.

“Was that the reason you were angry all the time when you called?” he asked gently.

Eddie sighed. “Shit, I didn’t realize you were picking up on that. I was trying to keep upbeat and happy for you.”

“Babe,” Steve said, nuzzling their noses together, “I want to hear about the good and the bad. If you’re upset I want to know. I was so scared you had found someone else and didn’t know how to tell me.”

Eddie’s eyes went wide and his jaw dropped. His first thought was to argue that he would never! But thankfully a second voice in his head, which sounded suspiciously like Wayne, prevailed. Steve didn’t know that. They had barely confessed to each that they did love each other, that they did want a relationship before the whole thing with Metallica fell in their laps. There was no way for Steve to know that.

He gathered up Steve in his arms and pulled him close. “I was angry at myself because I knew I was going to chose you. Because I love you more than I love the thought of fame and fortune. And that scared me how easy it was to chose you.”

“Especially since you knew I wouldn’t do the same?” Steve asked softly.

Eddie kissed the top of his head fiercely. “No, baby, because I knew you shouldn’t have to chose between your dreams and mine. Because I lived my dream. I can honestly tell people I toured with Metallica.”

“Aren’t you worried about what people are going to say when they ask you why you don’t tour anymore?”

“I tell them what I told everyone today,” he murmured. “That touring was too stressful and that it took me away from the people I loved.”

Steve kissed him tenderly on the lips. “Okay.”

Eddie tilted his head. “Just like that?”

Steve nodded. “I guess I just needed to hear you say the words. I believe you, Eds.”

Eddie hugged him tightly. “Bloomington isn’t that far away if we decide to take the deal. We’ll still see each other. Especially on the weekends and on the days you do my tattoo.”

“You still want me to finish it?”

“Of course I do, sweetheart,” Eddie whispered. “I have the whole fucking members of Metallica following me on Instagram to see the final product. I wouldn’t want to disappoint the biggest metal band of all time, now would I?”

Steve giggled. “Yeah, okay. I’ll finish you’re tattoo.”

They kissed again.

“I’m not sure it would work,” Steve began, “but since you guys still need to practice for your weekend gigs, and since you’ll already be in town on Tuesdays and Thursdays, have those be your practice days and then be in the studio on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays.”

Eddie blinked. “I’m mean gas would be killer, but yeah, I think it would work.”

“And since Hawkins is in between Bloomington and Indy, you’d get to see Wayne more...”

Wayne walked out of the kitchen where he had been steadfastly trying not to eavesdrop. “If I didn’t like you enough already, Stevie, you’d be my new favorite person besides Ed.”

“Who is it currently?” Steve asked with a grin.

“Claudia Henderson’s pecan pie.”

Eddie and Steve laughed.

“Steve already is my favorite non-family member,” Eddie said kissing Steve on the cheek with a huge smacking noise.

“And how does Jeff feel about that?” Wayne asked with a chuckle.

“We already decided that Royal Pain employees and Corroded Coffin members count as family and not friends,” Steve said with a fond smile.

Wayne smiled back. “You’ve certainly got a good head on your shoulders, Stevie. Be good to each other, yeah?”

Steve and Eddie nodded.

Eddie turned to Steve. “You going to be staying tonight?”

Steve nodded again. “Yeah, I just have to be in at ten to open shop. I’ve already pushed back so many clients in the last couple of months, I really can’t do that again.”

“Robin get some grumbling when she rearranged your schedule for this?” Eddie asked, sitting on the sofa so that he he could prop his elbow up on the back of it.

“Vickie too,” Steve said with a nod. “She got so flustered on a couple of them that Robin had to take over.”

Eddie winced. “Yeah, you really shouldn’t miss anymore days, then.”

Steve leaned forward. “I’ll tell you what, if you’re good and get me to work on time, I’ll show you my new tattoo when you come in to do yours.”

Eddie lit up. “You have a new tattoo? Where?”

Steve tapped the space between his hip and side on his right leg.

Eddie licked his lips. “Yeah?”

“Yup,” he said with a seductive grin. “So how about it, Eds? You get me to work on time and you get to see my new tattoo?”

“Deal.”

Eddie stuck out his hand and Steve shook it.

“You boys have both had a long day,” Wayne said. “You should hit the hay, I’ll wake you up before I go into work, okay?”

Steve and Eddie agreed and got ready for bed, Eddie lending Steve a pair of sweats to sleep in.

Eddie took a moment to appreciate his boyfriend’s broad chest and tight abs. Both dusted with thick hair. He licked his lips slowly.

Steve caught him looking and laughed. “No fair trying to get a peek at my tattoo before you fulfill your half of the deal.”

Eddie pouted. “Just a little taste?”

“Come to bed you menace,” Steve said with a big smile.

Eddie scrambled into the bed and Steve took the other side. They wrapped up in each other’s arms and sighed happily.

“I’m happy you’re here, darlin’,” Eddie murmured.

“Me, too, sunshine,” Steve agreed. “You make me happy when skies a grey!”

Eddie poked his ribs until he squirmed away, giggling. “Sap!”

Steve kissed him, hot and searing. “So are you. Mr I wrote dozens of songs for you on the road.”

Eddie blushed. “Whole songs, too. Lyrics included. The boys knew I was missing you. Of course they did. They heard the songs I was writing. But I don’t think they knew how much until I told them today.”

Steve kissed him again. “Saturday night, you and me. After your gig, my place. I’ll make dinner. You sing me sappy love songs and I show you my tattoo.”

“Sounds good, baby.”

Soon the room was filled with the soft sounds of two people wrapped up in each other, like there was no one else in the world.

*

Eddie dropped Steve off at his apartment to get a shower and change clothes with promises that he would see him that afternoon.

So when he walked into the shop at nine with a spring in his step and smile on his face he didn’t blame Chrissy and Vickie for thinking he had gotten laid.

Steve laughed. “No, but we talked and we’re still going to take it slow, and see wait happens.”

“Lame!” Erica said, rolling her eyes. “You so lame.”

Steve eyed her. “Yeah and what’s your boyfriend’s name?”

Erica’s jaw dropped.

Chrissy pounded her palm on the counter. “Oooh...”

“Whatever!” she said and stomped back into her henna parlor.

“She’s eighteen,” Steve said with a shrug. “She’s got time.”

“Brochacho!” Argyle greeted as he came in, just behind Steve. “You made it back in time. Little Birdie was concerned.”

Robin squawked from her perch behind the counter. “What! I was no such thing!”

Chrissy tilted her head and raised an eyebrow.

Robin blushed. “I may have been a little worried when you weren’t home by the time I left for the shop this morning.”

Steve waved hand over himself. “As you can see, showered, changed, and ready to go tattoo people’s poor life choices on their skin.”

They all laughed.

Chrissy pinched his arm on her way back to her room. “It’s good to see you smile again. And if he does that again, I’ll murder him. Got it?”

Steve nodded.

Argyle went to go setup Steve’s kit and left him alone with Robin.

“I’m with Chrissy, by the way. No one would find his body.”

Steve smiled. “Well, then you’ll be happy to note that the reason he was freaking out wasn’t because he was going to leave me for fame and fortune.”

Robin raised an eyebrow. “Oh, then why was he freaking out?”

Steve leaned on the counter. “Because he was going to leave fame and fortune for me.”

Her eyes went comically wide. “Seriously?!”

He nodded. “He said that the decision was so easy that he had to really think about it and make sure that’s what he wanted.”

Robin whistled long and low. “Now that’s devotion.”

“It really is.”

“So...” she said grinning slyly. “Has he seen the tattoo yet?”

He laughed. “Nope. I needed to make sure he was going to let me come into the shop today so I told if he got me here on time, then he can see it.”

“Yeah, that’s fair.”

Steve smiled. “He’s actually going to be coming in for his appointment today, too.”

Robin gasped and covered her heart with her hands. “What a shocker! That he wants to see you after not seeing you for three weeks!”

He swatted at her. “Yeah, yeah, yeah. I get it. He’s head over heels in love with me and I am just as smitten as he is.”

She smiled at him fondly. “I’m happy for you, dingus.”

“Me, too.”

She laughed. “You’re happy for yourself?”

Steve grinned. “Hell yeah I am. I’ve got a hot boyfriend, the bestest best friend in the world, and a shop I’m proud of, why shouldn’t I be happy for myself?”

“Yeah, yeah,” Robin said waving him off. “I’ll call you when your first appointment gets here.”

“Love you, Chamberlainne,” Steve said, using her Royal Pain nickname, causing her to make a face.

“Argh,” she huffed. “There just aren’t any good names for the power behind the throne and still being a woman.”

Steve laughed. “Sure there is. It’s called the queen.”

Robin laughed. “Or even higher, empress!”

“Empress!” Steve crowed. “There we go. Empress Robin, the real power behind the king of Royal Pain.”

“And don’t you ever forget it.”

He kissed her cheek. “Never.”

As he walked back to his tattooing room, she watched him go with growing fondness. He really was her person.

****

Part 28 Epilogue

Tag List: @spectrum-spectre @estrellami-1 @zerokrox-blog @artiststarme @swimmingbirdrunningrock @gregre369 @pyrohonk ​@bookworm0690 @chaosgremlinmunson @goodolefashionedloverboi @chaoticlovingdreamer @maya-custodios-dionach @messrs-weasley @val-from-lawrence @plyerice27 @thedragonsaunt @sapphirecobalt-1 @a-little-unsteddie @i-must-potato @danili666 @carlyv @rozzieroos @wonderland-girl143-blog @itsall-taken @justforthedead89 @emly03 @aizawa-emma @yikes-a-bee @redfreckledwolf @thesuninyaface @bookbinderbitch @archermightbegay @littlewildflowerkitten @scheodingers-muppet @hallucinatedjosten @ellietheasexylibrarian @anne-bennett-cosplayer @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @bestwifehaver @xxfiction-is-my-realityxx @oldwitcheshat @nightmareglitter @tinyplanet95 @novelnovella @jonesn4coffee @slowandsteddie @awkwardgravity1 @steaddie-on

[tennessoui]

kit's fics year in review (2023)

it turns out i wrote a LOT this year (last year now, i guess) according to my ao3 stats, and i saw one of those recap games for another fandom floating around my dash so im absolutely gonna pilfer some of those questions for my own little review + add a few!!

how many fics did you write in 2023? it was definitely the year of the silly short fic for me -- i published a total of 6 new oneshots on ao3 along with 5 fics only on my kofi! i also added at least one chapter to 9 other fics that were already posted. and i started and completed 1 long stand alone fic this year (if you love me let it remain unnamed, clocking in at 37k)

what are you most proud of fic-writing wise in 2023? i finished foolproof, foolhardy! it took more than a year to write, from first published to last updated, but i think the lion's share of the work happened during 2023; it's sort of rare for a fic of mine to get that long (72k), so it was fun to write through all the developments. truly a cracky premise that grew legs and ran away from me, but i'm really proud of how it turned out. the last 4 chapters contain some of my best writing in my opinion and the whole story is a love letter to padawan obi-wan, who will always be my beloved lol

what is the fic you had the most fun writing? this is a tough question because i'm torn between two fics; sun, sun, sun here it comes is probably my favorite oneshot that i've ever written. it sorta incorporates everything that makes a silly little au in my mind, from miscommunication to banter to bonus babies. but then there's i pray the same, but my gods have changed, aka the democratic fic- now that's such a fun fic to write, and i'm going to get more into it this year again. it's the one where tumblr votes on what should happen next, which i absolutely enjoy - especially when people send me propaganda about which option should win....thought the amount of ties that have happened is mind-boggling lol

what is a fic you didn't expect to write? hahaha well this is easily 'a more perfect union' which has been sooo fun to write so far but also definitely has had a very short gestation period from nascent tumblr au post to 25k on ao3 lol and still one more chapter to go!!!

what fic surprised you when you were writing it? oh hands down this is 'hand me down dreams got me high in the rafters', aka the pool boy au from tumblr. the adaptation of it from tumblr au to a fic on ao3 has a crazy tone shift where the obi-wan in that fic is much, much darker than the one in the tumblr au - i really ended up leaning into the unequal power dynamics of a boss/employee relationship and exploring how unhealthy it could be while keeping it consensual -- but only because anakin would allow obi-wan to do whatever he wanted to him

what's a fic you wanted to write but didn't? my poor neglected hunger games au!! i really want to get the first chapter of that posted because i am so excited about this fic and writing it as a new big, long project -- i'm excited about the dark anakin, the differently dark obi-wan, the hunger games set in the gffa, etc etc etc

what is something you learned this year that you'll take into 2024? set is the only acceptable name for anakin to use undercover <3 we will be taking the set cinematic universe into 2024 <3

what's a project you're excited to carry into the new year? um all of my wips lol but especially time & tide and the couples counseling au - i have about half of the next chapter of t&t written, and before i got sidetracked by a more perfect union, i was on track to get that posted by christmas....obviously that did not happen lol but i'm expecting to get back to working on a few more chapter updates at the beginning of this year!

[glux2]

Musing: Emotional connection

Recently a very close person to me suggested i binge watch "Angel Hare", before that day my only exposure to that project was a fan game that had a very funny punchline in lampooning the "cursed videogame" genre.

So i watched the whole thing and it was great.

This scene right here made me feel more feelings than most of the media i have watched/played/read in like the last 5 years or so.

So it made my mind wonder, like, "hold on, when was the last time i felt this strongly about a piece of entertainment?"

Sure, if you know me, i felt strongly about the ongoing plotline for Noelle on Deltarune, so one would think "2021 when chapter two came out", right? but no, i got very invested but it wasn't it.

The last time i felt so strongly about a piece of media was actually Deltarune's predecesor, Undertale in 2015.

I finished Undertale in tears, i got in a very bad funk when i found out about the genocide ending, it truly made me feel emotions.

So i began to ponder, just what really moves me?

Full disclosure: I don't cry at movies. This is not a "look at me i am a badass who is not beheld by feelings" statement, no, i kinda just dont connect emotionally with movies as easily as other people.

I have talked about this, many times actually, Toy Story 3 did not make me cry, it always bothers me how people at the time were like "if TS3 didn't make you cry, you have no soul" and shit like that, so let me repeat something i have said many times before:

Toy Story 3 was a movie i went to see the day doctors had informed me my mother had entered terminal phase of cancer.

My friends took me to see TS3 when i felt the greatest sadness i have ever felt in my entire life. And im glad TS3 was a pretty funny movie that managed to distract me from what i was going through. TS3 uplifted me when i had a very real reason to cry.

So what im getting at is, i rarely connect emotionally with what conventionally makes people emotionally connected, not that i havent felt strong emotions from movies, but as we'll get to later, it's just not the stuff you would expect, when we get back to movies you'll be thinking, "what the fuck, Toy story 3 did not make you emotional but THIS THING DID?!"

So, if traditional "emotional things" rarely have moved me i began to think to myself, "what are things that have made me feel this strongly?"

I realized it's the damn weirdest things.

I'll try to list things that i can remember making me feel this emotional.

Now i'll be upfront, im not a very cultured person, so you'll notice most of this is...not very high brow.

Also, obviously spoilers for all this stuff im about to talk about.

Before we begin: Honorable mention goes to me finding out i had repressed memories of being traumatized as a kid by being show an animated adaptation of "Pilgrim's progress" by an aunt, which disturbed me greatly towards the end as the main character dies and before it the souls of two people he met are condemned to eternal damnation from making MISTAKES, not sins, not evil, but THE FUCKING MISTAKE of exploring alternate routes before them.

-Yoshi's Island, 1994 When i was a wee one Yoshi was one of my fave videogame characters, so of course i was beyond hype when a game where you play as yoshi came out, the ending is one of the greatest moments in videogame history, the beautiful music, the journey of the stork, and finally the classic Mario fan fare playing as baby mario and baby luigi being held by their parents with the words "Heroes are born", it's such a powerful moment. To this day i still cannot listen to that credits music without tearing up.

Sequel? Retcon?! I DON'T KNOW WHAT YOU ARE TALKING ABOUT, SHUT UP, THIS IS THE PERFECT ENDING AND NOTHING ELSE HAPPENED AFTER IT!

-The bicentennial man, 1999 The bicentennial man is one of the biggest examples of a movie being fucking mischaracterized in the marketing, this movie is based on Isaac Asimov's short story and later novel, it stars Robin Williams, so all marketing was presenting the movie as Robin Williams comedy movie, IT. IS. NOT. The bicentennial man is a scifi drama about the existential search for meaning and the nature of what truly is to be alive. You get invested on the quest of this robot trying to find humanity for 200 years, and the punchline to this movie is, in his quest for humanity he forgoes the immortality being a machine provides him as he had developed the way to turn himself biological, still artificial but biological, and he dies peacefully on his sleep before he can be told that humanity had declared him, legally, a human being. To me it was such a powerful moment, he found true meaning to his life, became human, yet died before knowing so.

-Courage the cowardly dog, "The Mask", 2002 This is a legendary episode of an already great show that has a lot of very good emotional moments, some may cite episodes like "the giving tree" or "the last star maker", but for me it's this one. For those who have never experienced this episode, it revolves around a cat girl named Kitty who one day shows up at Courage's farm and she's wearing an upsetting mask, she abuses courage because she believes all dogs are bad. The mask serves 2 purposes, one is metaphorical, "her inability to face reality", the second is to hide her identity as she believes she is in danger. The thing is, she is on the run because her lover best friend Bunny is trapped in an abusive relationship with a gangster dog who threatened to kill her if she was seen near Bunny ever again, the episode coats the whole situation with a ton of goofiness, but it's actually very fucking dark: A young lesbian is trapped against her will on an abusive relationship with a toxic, violent man who threatened to kill her girlfriend if she refused to date him. Courage, being a good little dog ventures to save Bunny and have her reunite with Kitty because, despite how bad Kitty was to him, he recognizes that Kitty is a victim and she and Bunny deserve better, leading to Courage letting them escape away together, to live happy and free. I don't think it's just me, but the final image of Kitty and Bunny hugging as the train takes them to freedom felt so powerful to me.

-Twisted Metal Head-on, 2002 This is one of the weirdest things i have ever gotten emotionally invested, but honestly? i love when some shitposting franchise suddenly manages to pull this off, specially given the set up for this whole thing im going to describe starts in an early game as a fucking joke. So to contextualize this, the first two Twisted metal games were helmed by the og creators of the franchise, TM 3, 4 and small brawl were made by different developers when the creators lost the rights, but during the PS2 era when the og developers came back and created TM: Black, and TM: Head-on, Black was a reboot, Head-on was a retcon sequel to TM 2 that eliminated TM3 from the timeline, but not TM 4. Still with me? Okay so TM2 had this character, Krista Sparks, who was the revealed to be the daughter of the main antagonist of the game, Calypso, but hold on? wasn't Calypso's backstory that his family died in a tragic accident which lead him to become evil? So turns out, the FBI retrieved his daughter's corpse, turned it into a robot with a bomb with the intend to make her get close to Calypso and blow him up. The ending ends comically with a message reading "The FBI wishes to thank you for putting an end to Twisted metal". Stil Still with me?!?!?! ok! so Head on! In this game Krista is back, as a ghost, her ending consists on her confronting her dad, who has now brought up so much pain, misery and death to the world, Calypso tries to explain that the nature of his powers mean he has to do this otherwise he cannot use his powers, and his plan was for Krista to win so he could bring her back and her mom to life, but Krista is so horrified with what has happened that she refuses and blurts "I wish the accident that killed me and mom never happened" the intention being impeding Calypso from becoming this evil super natural villian, but as per all endings, it's always a monkey paw affair and Calypso knows it, looking saddened he grants the wish because he has no option, his powers force him to. Briefly Krista has a vision of her childhood with her dad before he became evil as they share a sweet moment playing on a swing set. HARD CUT TO A HOSPITAL, Krista is on a bed in coma, Calypso is there and whispers to her something along the lines of "Sleep tight my dear, may you finally find peace", as Calypso is leaving the hospital you can hear 2 doctors talking, mentioning that Krista had been in coma for more than a decade and apparently Calypso just had found out. Excuse me Twisted Metal, but WHAT THE FUCK? You are a dumb fucking edgy car combat game, how dare you make me feel these things?

-Mother 3, 2006 (translation on 2008) Mother 3 hopefully needs no introduction, or maybe it does, because many people have reduced it to a joke due to how nintendo stubbornly refuses to give us an official release, but also many of you must know this franchise is the spark that ignited the flame of the absolute Juggernaut Undertale would become, as well as many other games influenced by it. The Mother/Earthbound games were known for being quirky and deviating from the standard conventions of the game, notably for the modern day setting and unorthodox choices of how you deal with the villians, they were always billed as emotional, but i feel they did not live up to that...until 3. The general narrative to Mother 3 is about how greed is destroying the world, the main villian corrupting what we see of the world (a paradise little town where everybody is nice) by introducing luxury, money and status....and also stomping everything with his fascist army and cyborg mutants. Mother 3 is a game about how the worst traits of humanity are destroying the world and upsetting nature. Mother 3 is also the story of 2 twin brothers who suffer tragedy after tragedy after tragedy that ultimately pits them one against the other with the fate of the world at stake. Mother 3 punches you almost immediately by killing the mother character (which i might mention you're encouraged to name after your own mother) at the end of the first chapter and how this affects her surviving family. one of the Twins, Claus, is so disturbed that he decides to on on his own to try to kill the monster that took his mom, while the other, Lucas, was too afraid and weak to stop his brother, resulting on Claus dying as well...but the badguys take his corpse and reanimate it into a cold, emotionless cyborg who follow's the big bad's order and is using him to try to cause the end of the world. In the climax of the story Lucas is force to confront Claus, clause is a brain washed cyborg, his master is out of the picture and all he can do is fight, you can't reason with him...and then.... Lucas and Claus begin to hear a voice, a familiar voice, it's their mother, reaching for them from beyond the grave, pleading for them to stop fighting, suddenly Lucas and Claus both have a flash back to when they were babies, overhearing their parents talk about the hopes they have for them, the many things they will be able to achieve together, this makes Clause snap out of his brain washing, removing the helmet that had been hiding his face since he was resurrected, Lucas and him have a moment as they are finally reunited, Claus realizes all the bad things he has done while under control of the bad guy and realizes he must atone for his crimes, he prepares a lightning attack he knows cannot hurt Lucas and cause HIM to die. "Im sorry for all the problems i caused" he says as he is dying on his dad's arm, "I must go to where mom is now", as he passes away he can hear his mother calling for him, "You just be so tired" she says. Now i know it will sound insane for people to hear a videogame of all things can make one so emotional, but damn, just recollecting these scenes for this dumb post has made me start to cry, the emotional punch of this scene is very strong, it demolished me when i played the game back in the day, but now? After my own mother passed away? I have been scared of playing this game again. I mot sure if im emotionally prepare to go though that again, even 10+ years later. That's how powerful this scene was to me.

-Elite Beat Agents, 2007 If you have played this game, you know were im going, for those who dont, EBA is a silly rhythm game about secret agent cheer leaders that are dispatched around the world to help people in need by raising their spirit and allow them to overcome adversity, the game is insanely wacky and have scenarios like helping a ninja car salesman prevent a company from stealing his company's secrets, helping a washed up baseball star fight a lava spitting golem rampaging on an amusement park and traveling back in time to help davinci paint the mona lisa. EBA is also the second game in the Ouendan series, and there is something you need to know about this series: They all include tearjerker levels to contrast with all the goofiness. "A christmas Wish" is a christmas themed level set to Chicago's "You are the inspiration" and the story to this level is positively DEVASTATING: A few months before christmas a business man tells his daughter and wife he has to go on a business trip but he promises he'll be back just in time for christmas, the girl asks him to bring back a "girlfriend" for her teddy bear. The father dies on a plane crash. When the mother breaks the news to the little girl she gets angry, crying to the skies that her dad promised he would be back for christmas. The backdrop of the stage is set the girl and the mom doing things to remember the dad, like looking through a photo album and baking a cake for his birthday, it's very sweet, but...this is EBA, if you're doing poorly you see the "bad" versions of these scenes, and in this one, one is very devastating, the little girl is having a dream where she's chasing the spirit of her dad, if you're doing well she calls for him and for a brief moment the dad stops and starts turning towards her, if you're doing bad the spirit fades away and the girl wakes up in tears. Dear goodness. But of course, if you beat the level you get this sequence of the ghost of the dad showing up on chrismas morning to fullfil his promise, giving the little girl the teddy bear he promised and having the chance to say good bye to his family.

This punches you really fucking hard in the gut. I am incapable of doing this level without ending in tears. For a time i could not even listen to this song without tearing up until, i shit you now, the deadpool movie used it on a comedy scene.

-Punch out!!, 2009 This one is one i know got me because of personal nostalgia, when i was a wee one the og NES punch out was a big part of my childhood, Punch Out!! on the wii was a masterfully crafted tribute to the franchise. To not dwell too much time on this, this game has an interesting quirk, the ending is a downer ending and it's the only ending you can get. After you beat the last opponent there is a sequence where Mac and Doc seemingly are having a disagreement, where Mac seemingly has decided that if he loses 3 times, he'll retire from boxing completely. After this you face randomly opponents from the game, the first time you lose in this mode you lose your champion title, after three loses, it's game over and the story mode becomes locked for that save file. The final cutscene is Doc walking through what seems to be a gallery with boxing memorabilia, and untold number of years later, he is alone, he spots his old bike on this gallery and rings the bell, he looks up and speak to an absent Mac, "Good job son, good job", as he leaves the camera pans to reveal he was looking at a framed photo of him and Mac on one of their training sessions. The music on this sequence is so perfect, and it was aimed at people like me, people who grew up with the franchise, the idea was making it feel like Doc was reminiscing of YOUR time with punch out when you were a kid, and to make you think about how far YOU have come since the first time you played the games in an arcade, or your nes, or snes. It's actually pretty effective and it got me.

-Regular Show, "Trucker Hall of Fame", 2012 What makes this one different from others instances of me making me emotional, it's, much like the "Angel Hare" example at the top, this one is all about WARM HAPPY FEELINGS, so for those who did not watch this episode, let me summarize it for you: One day Muscleman gets word that his dad, who was his personal hero, has passed away, and he's tasked with carrying his final wish, spread his [hat's] ashes in a place called "Trucker hall of fame", you see, Muscleman was lead to believe his dad was a legendary trucker and that earned him his admiration, but during the episode Muscleman finds out he was lied to, his dad was a forklift driver that the truckers belittled, altho feeling cheated for having been lied to he carries on with his father's wishes. Now because this is regular show, when they arrive at the trucker's hall of fame they are immediately attacked by ghost trucker for "desecrating the hall of fame" as they spread the ashes something happens: The ghost of Muscleman's dad manifests himself and saves his son, taking the chance to apologize to his son and having the chance to say his final good bye personally. Despite the inherent silliness of the show's premise, i think this episode really did a good job on expressing that sense of catharsis of making peace with the passing of a love one.

-The Final Girls, 2015 A friend suggested we watched this movie, and much like Twisted metal up there, i absolutely did not expect for this incredibly stupid comedy horror movie to hit me with any sort of emotional connection, and yet... The Final Girls opens with the main character in a car with her mom, who is an struggling C-tier actress whose biggest achievement ever was appearing on a Friday the 13th knock off movie, during this sequence they get in an accident where the mom dies and even after it's been some time since the accident the main character has not properly moved on from the passing of her mom. Her friends and some people at the college she attends are preparing this horror movie festival where the main event is they are going to play the movies from the franchise her mom was on, and they suggest she should come. Then some bullshit happens and they all end up somehow trapped in the world of the movie. A quick rundown of the rules of horror movies is explained to them, the monster cannot be defeated by fighting it, it's only the final girl who can defeat the killer, and unfortunately for them they accidentally killed the character that, in the canon of the movie, is the final girl, so they believe one of them has to become the final girl and end the movie to hopefully get out of it. The problem is, the main character is experimenting shock from interacting with her mom's character, she is not taking well to seeing her mom on the flesh and she dedicates the entire movie to "save her mom", in the climax of the movie the mom character begins to understand that she is a fictional character and the nature of her attachment to the main character, understanding that they cannot be both the final girl and if then main character wants to make it back to the real world she has to learn "To let go", choosing to sacrifice herself so there is only one final girl. It's kinda weird, that of all possible premises, this managed to make a "You need to move on" message that somehow managed to resonate with me, you might have figured out by now a running theme here, but, i was really hard for me to deal with my mother's passing even if it's been years since it happened, so it's kinda funny for me to think these are the places i have found comfort from.

-Undertale, 2015 Okay this is tumblr, i already talked about Undertale on the prologue to, whatever the fuck im doing here, you know what undertale is, you know how effective it is, Undertale is really well designed for you to grow emotionally attached to these characters, so being able to see all these characters you know have grown attached to have their happy ending on the pacifist ending does fill one with a very satisfactory warm happy feeling that can move you to tears. ...Or you can be bummed out by being a little greedy gaming bitch and taking a look at the bad ending. Because you just couldn't help yourself, could you?

-Onward, 2020 This movie did not hit me as hard as the most emotional entries on this, but it still got me, because in the end of the day the main motivation of the characters on this movie is experiencing closure, catharsis over the death of their father, for Ian it's the fact that he died before he was born so he never met him and is driven by this desire to finally see the father who he shares such a connection with on the stories everybody who knew him in life have told him, and then there is Barley, the elder brother, who did know his dad in life, but is tortured by how, as a kid, he did not properly say good bye to him because he was terrified of death and avoided being there for him in his final days. The ending for this movie is very powerful, Ian choosing to sacrifice being able to meet his dad in the flesh, even for a few minutes, in order to give Barley the chance to being able to properly make peace with his dad and properly say good bye to him. Ian doesn't even get to SEE this, he does not get to see his dad even tho it was what he wanted most of all, but he understood bringing closure to Barley was more important than his selfish desire to see his dad, someone he never knew in life.

So what have i learned from whatever the hell this trainwreck of a post is...i guess that what really gets to me, what really moves me, is when a character, maybe not even someone i can realistically relate to, gets to experience closure, catharsis and be in peace with the people who are missing on their life. The majority of these things in here, even the Angel Hare example, relate to a character being able to experience catharsis by being able to properly make pace or otherwise contact someone they lost, or their ability to move on from this world, so to speak, knowing that their affairs and in order and that their loved ones will be okay.

Things can always look dark, the world may be trying to keep you down, maybe losing someone has been specially hard for you, but it's not the end of the world, you are loved and things can get better, it always hurts and we'll never stop missing what we have lost, but the memories of happier times are there to remind us, we can be happy again, and we can move on, use those memories as your motivation, you can lead yourself to a future filled with light.

[matttgirlies]

Matt & Me🎀

1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24

a story heavily based on Priscilla Presley’s Book “Elvis & Me” based in the 1950’s - 1970’s.

fem! reader x singer! matt

disclaimer!! - in no way am i saying matt would ever support or do these kind of things, for the sake of the book certain unethical things do happen at times.

warnings - sexual refrences, drug usage

y/nn = your nickname for any confusion🩷

Chapter 9

Matt sent two first-class plane tickets. My father took a leave of absence from his duties in Germany, and we flew off to Los Angeles, where Matt was filming Fun in Acapulco.

We stayed at the Bel Air Sands Hotel, and Matt was the perfect host. He’d pick us up in either a white Rolls-Royce or his famous gold Cadillac and take us on a sightseeing tour along the ocean to Malibu or into Hollywood.

My father was impressed with Matt’s hospitality, but not enough to forget why he was there—to talk about my education and my future at Graceland. Matt didn’t want to jeopardize the deal they had already made, and every time my father brought up my schooling, Matt would find a Hollywood landmark to point out.

“And over there, Captain,” he said, changing the subject as we cruised down Hollywood Boulevard, “is Grauman’s Chinese Theater. I’m sure you’ve heard of that. If you get out here, you can see all the stars of your era, their handprints and footprints. There’s Betty Grable, you remember her, don’t you? Marilyn Monroe, Kennedy’s friend, and if you look hard enough, you might spot Trigger’s hoofprint.” As my father stepped out of the car, Matt added, “I don’t think MacArthur’s are there yet, but I’m working on it.” We all laughed at the incongruity of General MacArthur bending over the wet concrete next to Jane Russell.

After a few days, my father and I flew to Boston and he and James enrolled me in the school Matt had chosen, Immaculate Conception, an all-girls high school, while Matt himself remained in L.A. to finish the film.

Before I left, he assured me that he’d be home soon and that he’d see me in a few weeks.

Matt and I planned to live together at Graceland eventually, but we’d told my parents that I would be staying with James and Angela, so when I arrived in Boston, I moved into their home. James assured my father that I’d be in good hands and not to worry.

The concerned look on my father’s face moved me. It was such a helpless look filled with doubts and fears about whether he was making the right decision. Only time would tell. He returned to Germany and I settled into my new routine.

In the beginning James drove me to and from school, where word of my identity soon leaked out. As I walked down the hallway, heads would turn and whispers would start. Once, a note that was being passed in study hall ended up on the floor. I saw my name on it and picked it up.

“Her name’s y/n,” I read. “She’s supposed to be Matt Sturniolo’s new girlfriend. If we make friends with her, maybe she’ll introduce us to him. Oh, God, wouldn’t that be neat!”

I didn’t know who the writer was, but I couldn’t mistake the meaning. The friendly smiles concealed intentions to get to Matt through me. Consequently, I was afraid to get close to anyone at school, and began to feel lonely and unhappy.

Living with James and Angela was also difficult. I felt out of place in their home, and did not want to be an intrusion in their personal life. I began spending more time with Grandma at Graceland, often staying all night, and gradually, almost unnoticed, I began to move in my things. By the time Matt suggested that I move into Graceland, I already had.

But living on “the hill,” as we called it, was isolated. The only people there were Grandma and the maids, and during the day, the secretaries, Becky Yancy and Patsy Sturniolo. Patsy was Matt’s double first cousin (her mother was Mary Lou’s sister and her father was James’s brother) and also served as James’s confidante. We were close, and after school I would go into the office to talk with her and Becky. But James felt my visits kept the girls from working and finally he put a sign on the door specifying: no one belongs in the office unless they work there, or have an appointment. I knew that meant me too, so I curtailed my visits.

There were other restrictions. I was told that I couldn’t have girlfriends over because strangers weren’t allowed in the house. One day, I was severely criticized for sitting under the trees on the front lawn. I was playing with Honey, the poodle Matt had given me for Christmas, when a friend of Angela’s drove up and told me that I was making a public display of myself.

Even at school, I felt restricted because James was still chauffeuring me there and back. Without my own car, I couldn’t leave the school grounds to take a drive at lunch or when my classes were cut short. At last I asked James if I could use Matt’s Lincoln Mark V and reluctantly, he agreed.

That evening I went for a drive. With the radio blaring and the windows wide open I sped down Highway 51 South, enjoying my newfound independence. I pulled up in front of Patsy Sturniolo’s house and said, “Hop in. Let’s go for a drive.”

Patsy introduced me to Leonard’s Drive-In, where we would spend at least one night a week when we didn’t go bowling or to a movie. But I went out less frequently when the two hundred dollars that my father had given me rapidly began slipping through my fingers. Matt had assured my father not to worry about money, that if I needed any, his father would give it to me. So, with gas added to my expenses, I had no choice but to approach James, as Matt had instructed me.

Hesitantly I walked into his office. I was nervous about talking to James, who had a sharp tongue and said exactly what he thought. Finally I said, “Mr. Sturniolo, I was wondering if I could have some money. I’m spending a lot on gas, which doesn’t leave much for anything else.”

“How much do you think you need?” he asked, his eyes narrowing suspiciously.

“I  . . . I don’t know,” I stammered.

He thought for a moment, then said, “Okay, I’ll give you thirty-five dollars. How does that sound?”

Thirty-five dollars sounded fine at the moment, but it didn’t go very far, not with movie tickets, gas, and clothes to buy. Two weeks later I asked him for money to go out with Patsy.

“Hot damn,” he snapped. “Didn’t I just give you thirty-five dollars?”

“That was two weeks ago, Mr. Sturniolo. I can’t stretch it any further than that.”

He stared angrily at me and then his face softened.

“Well, I guess things can get pretty expensive,” he said, counting out another thirty-five dollars. “Now you and Patsy be careful driving out there. You know there’s a lot of accidents on that highway. Why don’t you call me when you get to the theater?”

At the time his caution surprised me, but remembering what Matt had said about Mary Lou, I knew that this was also typical of the rest of the Sturniolos. They always felt better if you called when you arrived at your destination and again before you left for home.

Matt phoned later that evening. In the course of the conversation he asked, “How are you doing on cash, Baby?”

“Funny you should ask that,” I said, mentioning his father’s reaction when I asked for money.

Matt started laughing. “That’s my dad. He’s always been tight. Getting money from him is worse than going to the local bank, even if you’ve got good credit. That’s why I have him taking care of my bills. Every penny’s accounted for. I wouldn’t trust anybody else. Too many thieves. Don’t worry about it. I’ll talk to him.”

I ended up laughing too. Matt’s sense of humor was contagious. He laughed about things that often wouldn’t make sense to anyone else, yet anyone around him would usually end up laughing too.

Unfortunately, Matt forgot to speak to his father. Rather than ask for handouts, I resolved to earn my own money. I began modeling part-time at a boutique near Graceland. When I told Matt about my job, he said, “You’re gonna have to give it up.”

“But I’m enjoying it,” I said.

“It’s either me or a career, Baby. Because when I call you, I need you to be there.”

I quit the modeling job the next day, which left me with very little to do. I started spending even more time in Grandma’s room. I liked being with her. She was always in her favorite chair, ready to share her loving stories about Matt.

Most of them dealt with his early years and the family’s struggle against poverty. Suffering and worry seemed to be the very fabric of Sturniolo’s lives. Any time Matt failed to call home for two days in a row, they worried that something terrible had happened to him in California. Matt’s enormous success and wealth notwithstanding, they were convinced that some misfortune was going to snatch it all away from them. Sometimes all this talk of suffering depressed me.

My only relief was Patsy Sturniolo, and I went to her every chance I got. But then Grandma complained that she was being neglected. She reminded me that Matt’s old girlfriends used to stay with her every single night he was gone. Torn, I couldn’t wait for Matt’s return.

I anxiously waited for his call. It usually came in the early evening.

“Hi, Baby. How’s my girl?” he asked, his voice bright and full of energy.

Happy to hear from him, I said, “I’m fine, Matt.” I tried to mention how lonely I was, but he cut in. “It won’t be long, Baby. Just a few more weeks, and we’ll be wrapping up.”

“I’m glad. I’ll be so happy to see you.”

“Well, then, let me hear some enthusiasm.” He began describing a silly incident that had taken place on the set that day, trying to make me laugh.

I wanted to say, “Matt, talk to me, help me get through these new experiences.” But I realized that he didn’t want to hear about my problems. He felt he had enough of his own. When he asked me how I was doing, I became very animated and said, “Just great, Matt. Everything is wonderful.”

But when we hung up, I still felt an emptiness. I began counting the days until he came home.

After several delays Matt finished Fun in Acapulco and headed back to Graceland. Still afraid of flying, he traveled with the entourage in his huge, custom-built bus, the same one we’d taken to Vegas the year before. At every stop he called Graceland with a progress report. “I’m in Flagstaff now,” he said. “Only a few more days and I’ll be home. How’s my Little Girl doing?”

With each day’s phone call I became increasingly excited. I awaited Matt’s arrival with open arms and a big smile.

Finally one evening he called and said he’d be pulling in around midnight. By ten o’clock, fans were already waiting at the gate. How they found out was a mystery. I was among a small group of his friends and relatives gathered in the living room. All of us peered impatiently out the large window facing the long circular driveway.

I had been hoping that our reunion would be intimate, romantic. But I could now see that it was not to be, and I wondered if Matt would be upset that so many people were around.

By twelve-thirty, the fans at the gate started shrieking and the powerful glaring lights of the bus swept the driveway. Matt was behind the wheel and smoothly brought the bus to a halt. He was the first one out and he came through the front door like a shot.

“Where’s my girl?” he called out, looking around for me.

“Hello,” I said. It seemed more like months than weeks since I’d last seen him.

“Hello?” he echoed in a mocking voice, coming up to me. “I’ve been gone all this time and all you can say is ‘hello’?” Then he lifted me into the air, kissing and hugging me. “God, it’s good to be home.” He looked around and saw his grandma.

“Dodger, you waited up for me too, bless your heart.” He hugged her and patted the back of her head. Then he greeted the rest of the household. Matt could be extremely affectionate, and this particular night he had hugs for everyone.

With his arrival, Graceland sprang to life. The maids started cooking, and the boys were talking, greeting their wives and girlfriends, and soon they were bringing in the luggage and unpacking it.

After being alone so long, I found this sudden intensity and energy overpowering. I stood amid the commotion, watching Matt go upstairs, as he called out to Pauline, “O Five, what’s for dinner?”

I didn’t know whether to follow him or wait. I didn’t want to appear too excited, so I stayed downstairs until I heard, “y/nn, come up here.” Then I couldn’t get up those stairs fast enough.

We had a few quiet moments together in his room. He asked how I was doing, if I liked school, and if his dad was taking care of me. I started to tell him everything I hadn’t been able to on the phone, that I had missed him, that I had been lonely, that I really wanted to find a job. Then I stopped myself. This wasn’t what Matt wanted to hear.

After a few minutes of talking about Grandma, he kissed me and said, “Well, let’s join the others and eat.”

When we got downstairs the rooms that for weeks had been so quiet were now filled with guests laughing and cracking jokes.

Graceland was—as local DJ George Klein put it—ready to rock and roll.

We had a down-home meal of pork chops, cornbread, home fries, and crowder peas. While we were sitting around the table, local friends dropped by to visit and to catch up on all the gossip about Matt’s latest movie.

“Goddamn, she was a big woman,” Matt was saying about his costar. “Body like a man—no hips, and shoulders broader than mine. I was embarrassed to take my goddamn shirt off next to her.”

“Yeah, but M,” Alan Smith kidded him, “she only had eyes for you.”

“No way, Son, not with John Derek lurking all over the place. I’d be goddamned if I’d start a conversation with her and see his possessive eyes glaring at me. You know he gave her a car, and on the steering wheel it said, ‘Baby, you’re indispensable.’ Head over heels in love with her. Never saw anything like it.”

I was surprised to hear how Matt was talking about Ursula Andress, the alluring sex goddess of Dr. No.

“Wasn’t she pretty?” I asked.

“Pretty?” he snickered. “Hell, she had a bone structure so sharp, it could cut you in half if you turned too fast.”

Everyone howled, including me. Matt’s stories went on for hours. Again I felt out of touch with the conversation and wished I had some colorful stories of my own. I kept wondering when we were going to have some time alone. My world consisted solely of him. I sat quietly, happily observing him. Whenever he winked at me or gave my hand a little squeeze, I returned the gesture, thinking, now? Does he want me to leave, so he can follow me? But then he’d lean back in his chair and begin telling another story.

It was almost dawn before he yawned and said, “Well, we better get some sleep.”

We all rose from the table. He looked over at me, smiled, and said, “Do I have to write a note for school saying you were sick today? Think they’d believe me?”

Everyone laughed—and I blushed.

He put his arm around my waist as we made our way up the staircase to his room. If I appeared cool it was because I was mindful of something he’d once told me: He detested aggressive women. In fact, I was ecstatic. I’m finally going to be alone with him, I thought. All the phone calls, the worrying, the anticipation, and the delays are now over.

I got ready for bed at least fifteen minutes before he came out of his bathroom. He counted out his usual number of sleeping pills and took them one at a time. “Why are you taking those now?” I asked. “You’ll fall asleep.” I had plans, and the last thing I wanted was for him to doze off.

“Don’t worry. It’ll take a while for them to take effect.” He handed me a pill. “Here, just take one of these and you’ll get a good night’s sleep. It’s okay since you’re not going to school this morning.” He cautioned, “I wouldn’t advise it on school nights though.”

I looked at the red monster, remembering my earlier experience with it. “It won’t knock me out for ten days, will it?” I smiled at him as I swallowed the pill. It gave me a nice feeling. My body tingled. I was light-headed but more in control this time.

Snuggled in Matt’s arms, I was happy to be near him, his warm body against mine. Because of the sleeping pill, I could feel my inhibitions dissolving.

“How’s my Little Girl been?” He was speaking very softly now. “I’ve missed her. Has she been good?”

“Yes, she’s been good,” I said. “But she’s been waiting for you. It’s been so lonely here. She couldn’t wait to be in your arms, and she’s been thinking about you so much.”

“Shhh, don’t say anything else. I know you’ve missed me. I want you to just be here with me now and don’t think about anything else. Let’s enjoy each other.”

I was aware of the distant hum of the air conditioner, the music from the radio, the soft glow of the dim lights. Gently and tenderly he began to touch me.

He was passionate and again seemed to be making up for lost time. I felt sure the night would end with Matt finally making love to me. I was drunk with ecstasy. I wanted him. I became bolder, reaching out to him, totally open and honest in my need.

Then, as before when we’d reach this point, he stopped and whispered, “Don’t get carried away, Baby. Let me decide when it should happen. It’s a very sacred thing to me. It always has been. You know that I want it to be something to look forward to. It keeps the desire there. Do you know what I mean?”

I sat up in anger. “What about Nicole?” I yelled. “You mean you didn’t make love to her the whole four years you went with her?”

“Just to a point. Then I stopped. It was difficult for her too, but that’s just how I feel.”

“That’s how you feel. What about me? How long do you think this can go on? God, Matt, that takes a lot of willpower. That’s asking a lot of another person, one who’s in love and has strong, healthy desires.”

“Don’t get me wrong. I’m not saying we can’t do other things. It’s just the actual encounter. I want to save it.”

Fearful of not pleasing him—of destroying my image as his little girl—I resigned myself to the long wait.

Instead of consummating our love in the usual way, he began teaching me other means of pleasing him. We had a strong connection,  much of it sexual. The two of us created some exciting and wild times.

Excerpt from: "Elvis and Me" by Priscilla Beaulieu Presley. Scribd.

This material may be protected by copyright.

a/n - i think im going to start doing longer chapters🎀

[anime-is-godlike]

Bungo stray dogs x reader

Birth simulator

You went out shopping and saw this in the sale section and for a laugh with your boyfriend got it, you are not pregnant but you remember seeing videos on the internet and wanted to see how long they would last the pain is from 1-10 how will they fair?

Dazai

“Belladonna stop stop!!”

“……..Dazai it’s on a 3”

“It’s does not feel good at all stop this madness”

“You are such a baby I sware to everything”

“Yes but I’m your baby”

“……”

“Wait come back!!!!!!!

I’m short a absolute baby who can’t make it past 4 at best, has way more respect and is ready to go down on his knees to praise you when you have children and will praise you to the end of time about how strong you are

————-

Chuuya

“Chu chu ~ please”

“…….no”

“Oh come on let’s make it a bet if you make it to 10 I’ll buy you wine”

“Deal!”

………….

“STOP STOP STOPPPP!!”

“…..to be honest I thought you’d quit a lot sooner”

“Stop clapping and turn the damn thing offfff!!!”

“But you only made it to 5?”

“Turn . That . Damn . Thing . OFF”

“Okay okay…….drama queen”

“Say what you want but damn you are gonna have it worse”

“????why”

“Because when we have kids you can’t simply turn a machine of…the perfect revenge”

“…….I’m sorry?”

“To late”

All in all have so much more respect for you and woman every where already thought you were queen now knows your kings and don’t worry about the wine you got him a apology bottle

——————-

Atsushi

“Um….okay?” Baby was confused until

“Ahhhhhhh!!!!!ouch stop please my darling stopppp!!” You looked in shock this man made it up to 7

“Wow genuinely wow” was all you said in astonishment

“Please……make it….Stop” he said nearly passing out

“Oh sorry dear”

……….

If you think he worshiped you before prepare for a whole lot of love and affection now he worships you and if you do have children he will treat you like a goddess

—————-

Ranpo

“Honey baby sugarplum” you say in a sweet voice ranpo has his arms crossed with a pout

“Nope na no not gonna do it” you pouted then a sparkle came to your eyes with a idea

“If you do this I’ll get the boss to give you” you lean closer and whisper

“Praise” he looks at you with fully opened eyes

“Well if ya put it that way” he picks you up by your waist and spins you around giggling

………

“Well I gotta admit I thought you’d last a bit longer” ranpo was on the floor passed out at….2 with a pocky stick in his mouth

“Oh well since he’s passed out I’ll just have one” you say just as you where about to grab a pocky from a box he woke up and rose like he was a zombie coming back from the dead

“Sorry darling…but no” he said with opened eyes you slowly retreated your hand

“Sorry” and put both hands up in the air (like you just don’t care…sorry)

“….okay one” you looked at him with shock

All in all not much changed in your relationship but you could tell he did help out a bit more when you got monthly pains he helped you out a bit before this whole ordeal but now he was actually giving you some of his snacks and randomly a surprise pocky he’ll shove into your mouth

——————

Hope y’all like it it’s been sitting in my drafts for a while and finally got the inspiration to finish it don’t worry the next chapter will be twisted wonderland

[sissylittlefeather]

This is the Story

Chapter 5

A/N: Here it is: the long-awaited Halloween chapter! Another thanks to @ccab and @elvisfatass for some of the ideas that went into this one. Also, things are finally starting to heat up a bit, so I hope you enjoy it!

Also also, I'm not sure if you all have noticed, but I've been switching perspectives with each series of stars (******) between Elvis and Grace. This is important for this chapter especially, so I thought I would mention it.

ICYMI: this is about Elvis and the author OC Grace Dubois, 35yo single mother of 6yo Wendy. Want to catch up? Here are links to the other chapters:

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Warnings: 18+ Minors DNI! Cussing, flirting, fantasizing, masturbation (m & f), mentions of oral sex (m & f), mentions of p in v sex, mentions of unprotected sex, mentions of creampie.

Word count: 2.5k(ish)

Song:

"Now how about you tell me how you really feel about your time in Hollywood." He smiles and leans his head back.

"Well..."

******

"What are your plans for Halloween?" Elvis asks on the Monday before the holiday as Grace packs up her things to leave.

"Oh, I hadn't really thought about it. We don't really know anyone here."

"You know us. I have Lisa Marie. Come over and we'll put on a movie for the girls."

"I don't know..." He knows why she's hesitant, but he hasn't given up yet.

"Come on. You said we could be friends. Lisa needs someone to do Halloween with other than me."

"Alright, fine. We'll come over after dinner. But we can't stay too late. It's a school night." She smiles and Elvis tries to hide his excitement.

He walks her to the door and it takes everything in his power not to at least hug her, but he contains himself. Once she's out the door and it's closed behind her, though, he smiles widely and sighs. There's still a chance.

******

On Halloween, Grace stands in her closet fussing over what to wear. She knows why she cares so much, but it seems silly considering the nature of their relationship now. He's just a friend and it's essential that he stay that way. Still, she chooses a tight black dress to wear with her witch's hat, knowing that the low neckline is overtly tempting, but rationalizing that she doesn't have another black dress. She swears it's not on purpose that she wears heavy black eye makeup and puts contacts that she hasn't worn in years in her eyes. They hurt, but she thinks it'll be worth it for her costume. Wendy comes around the bathroom corner in her butterfly costume.

"Whoa, mama. You look really pretty."

"Aw, thanks baby. You think so?"

"Is this because you like Mr. Presley?"

"Oh, honey, no, it's just Halloween!" Wendy gives her a look but doesn't argue. They finish getting ready and get in the car to head to Graceland for movie night. Grace's stomach is in knots for some reason as they walk up to the door. It's strange because she was here earlier, but this is different.

"Mama. Knock." Wendy prompts her after they stand there for a bit. She does and they wait for a minute as Elvis comes to the door. When he pulls it open, her breath catches. He's dressed as a cop, complete with hat, badge, and gun in a holster. She always thinks he's attractive, but this sparks something new in her.

"Hi."

******

"Hello." Elvis is completely caught off guard by Grace's outfit. Her dress is form fitting and low-cut, more so than anything he's seen her wear other than her bathing suit. She has on black kitten heels and a pointy hat. Her glasses are gone, and he misses them a little, but seeing her deep brown eyes unobstructed is a different experience. Her hair is cascading down around her shoulders, and he didn't realize how long and straight it is. They stand for a bit just taking each other in.

"Daddy. Let them in." Lisa Marie pulls on his hand.

"Oh, yes, come on in." He steps to the side for Grace and Wendy to walk into the house. Wendy and Lisa, who is dressed like a ballerina, grab each other in a hug. They're very excited to see each other again.

To lead them to the TV room, Elvis puts his hand on the small of Grace's back. The electricity is there again and he doesn't want to stop touching her. Once the girls are settled on the floor with It's The Great Pumpkin, Charlie Brown on the TV, Elvis asks Grace if she'd like to help him make some popcorn. She nods and they head to the kitchen. Again, he puts his hand on her back. It's completely unnecessary, but she doesn't argue. When they get to the kitchen, Elvis realizes he has no idea how to make popcorn. Grace smiles softly and takes over, her hand grazing his as she does. His heart skips a beat and he wants to run his hands up her arms and down her back, but he doesn't. Instead, he steps away carefully, watching her as she pulls together all the necessary things to make popcorn. His whole body is screaming at him to walk up behind her and put his arms around her. He wants to bury his face in her hair and kiss her neck. He wants to feel her ass against him as he presses into her. He wants to run his hands up her front and squeeze her breasts lightly as he teases her with words. He aches to do these things, but he knows he can't. She catches him staring at her.

"What?" She smiles and it takes his breath away.

"Nothing. You're just good at making popcorn." It's a stupid excuse to be looking at her like he is. He wonders if she can feel his hunger for her.

When the popcorn is finished, he gathers bowls for both girls and one for them to share, pouring out the popcorn accordingly. They walk back into the TV room and he sits in the middle of the couch, so she has to sit close to him, no matter which side she chooses. She settles herself on his left side with their arms touching. It feels like he's on fire where they make contact. He puts the bowl of popcorn directly on his lap for two reasons. First, it covers his growing erection. Second, the visual of her reaching her hand into the bowl directly above his cock is driving him insane. He wants her to touch him so badly that it almost hurts. Part of him wonders if the tension he's feeling from her is all in his head. But then she takes her hat off and leans across him to get some popcorn, pressing her right breast into his arm. His breath catches and he knows she isn't doing this on accident. He can smell the light lavender scent of her hair and it's intoxicating. He feels her take a deep breath and move away from him with a handful of popcorn.

The movie continues on the TV and Elvis does everything in his power to focus, but all he can think about is laying Grace down on this couch and...

"Daddy, can we have some candy?" Lisa's voice pulls him from his steamy reverie.

"Sure, baby." He adjusts himself as he stands up, so that his dick is tucked up under his belt. He offers his hand to Grace.

"Would you like to help?" She takes his hand and stands up.

"Sure!" They walk together to the kitchen again, where Elvis digs out a couple of bags of candy. She walks up next to him and leans her back against the counter.

"Thank you for inviting us. Wendy is having a great time." She takes a piece of chocolate and pops it into her mouth. When she does so, she gets a little bit of chocolate on the side of her mouth.

"Oh, honey, you've got..." He points to the side of her face.

"What?" He smiles, licking his thumb to wipe the chocolate away. When he does, though, he takes her chin in his hand. They stare at each other for a few seconds before her eyes flick down to his lips. He starts to lean in painfully slowly, running his thumb along her bottom lip. His mouth is almost to hers when both girls come bounding into the kitchen.

"Daddyyyy where's our candy??" Lisa's voice breaks the trance between them and Elvis pulls away quickly.

"It's right here, sweetie." He turns and hands her the bowl of candy and the girls skip off back to the TV room. Grace stands up from where she was leaning against the counter and follows the girls back to the TV room. Elvis takes a deep breath and looks at the ceiling. So close.

As the girls settle onto the floor again, Elvis and Grace sit back on the couch together. She kicks her shoes off and pulls her feet up onto the couch, leaning against him and reaching for more popcorn. Elvis breathes deeply and tries to relax. Then, they both hear the girls chattering.

"Lisa Marie, what is it like to have a daddy?" Wendy asks.

"It's pretty great. You don't have one?"

"Nope. It's just me and Mama." Wendy looks down at the floor. Grace is about to step in when Lisa does first.

"You can share my daddy. I'm sure he will take care of you too."

"Yes, please! I would love to have a daddy and I like yours a lot."

Elvis and Grace look at each other and laugh nervously. He can't help but think they make a charming domestic scene, all of them there in then TV room together. He wonders if Grace is thinking the same thing.

The movie comes to an end and the girls pop up off of the floor.

"Daddy, can Wendy and Ms. Grace stay the night?" Lisa Marie asks eagerly. Grace answers.

"Oh, no, sweetie, we have to go home and go to bed. But thank you for inviting us!" She laughs cheerfully. Elvis sighs deeply. He wants nothing more than for Grace to stay the night. But he understands why she says no.

They all move to the door and the girls say their goodbyes. Before she heads out the door to the car, Wendy wraps Elvis in a hug and hollers, "Bye Daddy!" He looks up at Grace and she laughs again. He mouths "it's okay" and makes a reassuring face. Wendy backs away and moves to walk through the door. In a last second impulse, Elvis grabs Grace and pulls her to him in a hug. At first, she freezes, but then he feels her relax and she puts her arms around him too. He wants to keep holding her, but the girls are waiting. Wendy and Lisa look at each other and smile knowingly. Finally, he lets her go, clearing his throat.

"Thank you for coming."

"Of course. Thank you for inviting us." They stare at each other longer than they should.

"Okay, Mama, let's go. It's bedtime." Wendy pulls her over the threshold. At the car, Grace looks over the door and waves at Elvis one last time before she settles behind the steering wheel.

******

As she drives, Grace thinks about the evening she just had. She wasn't intentionally trying to drive Elvis crazy. Or was she? It doesn't matter. All she knows is that she was desperate to feel his hands on her. Every second that she was pressed up against him on the couch made her core burn with desire. And then he almost kissed her again. She knows she should've stopped it, but his thumb on her bottom lip made her absolutely weak with need for him to put his lips on hers. Something about the way he was dressed made her want him to handcuff her to a bedpost. She was reluctant to admit it, but she wanted him. More than she's ever wanted another person in her life. Even as she drives home, she can feel the arousal between her legs gathering.

Wendy falls asleep on the way home and Grace carefully carries her up to her bed. Once Wendy's settled, she closes the door and tiptoes to her bedroom. There, she lays on her bed in her black dress, trying not to think about Elvis. But her mind wanders and she longs to feel his hand on the small of her back, sliding down to her ass and squeezing it gently. The wetness continues to gather between her legs and she considers doing something she hasn't done in a long time...

******

Elvis gets Lisa Marie settled in her bed, kissing her gently on the forehead, and then walks back to his own bedroom. He thinks about Grace in the low-cut dress, pressing up against him as they sat on the couch. He takes his hat and gun holster off and sits on the bed, his erection reappearing by the second. Thinking of the way it felt to have her body pressed against him in that last hug, he closes his eyes and thinks about giving himself a way to release the tension he's feeling...

******

Grace slowly slides her dress up over her hips and slips her fingers under the edges of her panties to drag them down her long legs and off.

******

Elvis leans back against the pillows, unzipping his pants and freeing his throbbing cock. It twitches as he thinks about what Grace would look like naked in his bed.

******

She moves her hand down to her core, feeling the wetness already gathered there. She thinks about Elvis's long fingers and how they might feel running up her slit to the place that makes her feel wild.

******

He puts his hand on himself, thinking of Grace's slim, beautiful fingers wrapped around his dick. He begins to move his hand back and forth, laying his head back.

******

Grace slides her fingertip around and over her clit, imagining Elvis's mouth on her, licking and sucking her, his beautiful lips wet with her desire.

******

Elvis lets out a soft moan as he strokes himself, thinking of Grace's soft, wet mouth wrapped around his cock, pulling it down her throat as she plays with his balls in her hand.

******

Grace slides two of her fingers into her pussy, imagining Elvis's cock inside her, moving in and out as she moans his name. She feels the tightness of her orgasm gathering between her legs...

******

Elvis moves his hand faster and faster, imagining Grace on top of him, bouncing harder and harder on him, grinding on him as he pushes deeper and deeper. He feels his release building...

******

Grace alternates between fucking herself with her fingers and rubbing circles on her clit, thinking of Elvis running his hands over her, filling her with his cock as his mouth wanders on her neck and chest, running his tongue over her hardening nipples.

******

Elvis moans deeply as his hips buck up into his hand, thinking only of Grace and the way her beautiful curves would feel pressed against him as he fucks her, hips slamming into each other passionately.

******

When Grace reaches her climax and the waves of pleasure wash over her, crashing into the edges of her body, she whispers Elvis's name, imagining what it would feel like to have him fill her with his release as he shudders on top of her.

******

Elvis comes hard into his hand, moaning Grace's name as he imagines what her face would look like as she comes with him, her breasts bouncing underneath him as he pushes into her one last time.

******

Grace lays on her bed sweating, in shock at what she just did while thinking about Elvis. She wishes that the orgasm had been enough to satisfy her, but she longs to know if her imagination did him justice. She blushes, remembering that she'll have to see him tomorrow to work on the book. It's getting harder and harder to ignore how she feels about him.

******

Elvis leans back against the pillows on his big bed. He's a little embarrassed at how he just jacked off like a teenager dreaming about a woman he could never have. Grace fills his mind and he's not sure how he'll face her tomorrow knowing what was in his head tonight.

******

Both Elvis and Grace get ready for bed and attempt sleeping, trying and failing to think of anything but each other.

******

The End,

until Chapter 6!

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Taglist:

@ccab @elvisfatass @elvisalltheway101 @ashtag6887 @aliypop @your-nanas-house @dkayfixates @everythingelvispresley @xanatenshi @returntopresley @p0lksaladannie @deniseinmn @jaqueline19997 @that-hotdog @mykievolturi @18lkpeters @joshuntildawn13 @rjmartin11 @littlehoneyposts

[baronessblixen]

Twenty questions for fanfic writers

Tagged by the amazing @frogsmulder. Thank you!

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

417 🤯

2. What's your total AO3 word count?

774,561 - I wanna get to a million now, wow

3. What fandoms do you write for?

The X-Files, Frasier. At least on AO3. I have way more fandoms on ff.net (where I used to post).

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

Prompts & Drabbles

Fictober 2020

Fowl Play

Love is Not Blind

Some Things You Just Can't Fake

5. Do you respond to comments?

For a while I did and then I forgot again and I'm always afraid I will reply to someone but oversee someone else. In theory I want to respond to all of them! I just got two amazing ones in the last two days. So thoughtful and so plain kind. I definitely need to reply to these people.

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

I wrote one where Mulder dies (of old age, though) but I'm not even sure it's on AO3.

7. What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

All of them have a happy ending! I don't think I have a story without a happy ending.

8. Do you get hate on fics?

I have. Mostly in the distant past, but I think some more recent hate too. If I remember correctly, it wasn't directed at a fic in particular but rather at me as a writer in general.

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

I have written a few smut stories. I know it's a popular genre, but I gotta be honest and admit that it's just not my favorite. Neither writing nor reading it. I know that's a very unpopular opinion.

10. Do you write crossovers? What’s the craziest one you’ve written?

Again, not on tumblr, but I think I wrote a Frasier/Hot in Cleveland crossover once.

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not that I know of.

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

Hmmm. I think maybe one?

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

I have! I co-wrote Eden with a bunch of others! I mean we each wrote chapters but that still counts, right? It was a lot of fun and I'd love to do it again.

14. What’s your all time favorite ship?

Mulder and Scully

15. What’s a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

My Five Minutes Series. I think about it so often but I like the chapters I have written a lot and I'm afraid to screw it up by writing more.

16. What are your writing strengths?

I'm decent at writing dialogue.

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

Everything. I struggle with describing an environment or surroundings. I gotta admit I sometimes even skip reading those parts when other people write them. I don't see those things in my head.

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic?

Technically I always write dialogue in another language since English isn't my native language. I've written a few German fanfics and that was a lot of fun. Might do it again.

19. First fandom you wrote for?

It was either Friends or X-Files. Or if we count stories I only wrote for myself then it's Scarecrow and Mrs. King.

20. Favorite fic you’ve written?

Can't choose between my babies!

Tagging @xxsksxxx @randomfoggytiger @agent-troi @numinousmysteries @oohnotvery @atths--twice (feel free to ignore if you don't wanna do it!)