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elvisabutler · 1 year ago

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don't rock the boat

fandom: elvis 2022 | elvis presley rating: m pairing: elvis presley ( 50s elvis ) x female reader word count: 2419 warnings: handjobs. public play. use of teddy bear and sugar bear and as nicknames. mild embarrassment kink. talk about fear of heights. mild insecurity on the reader's part. minor cum eating. a minor touch of sub e but not quite? author’s note: welcome to day 11 of ally’s wet hot smut summer, public play with 50s elvis presley x reader. no real notes for this beyond you can imagine austin or regular elvis for this and this went through a name change and a "what happened in the smut" change twice. thank y'all for reading and i hope this scratches an itch for some of y'all! and yes i did forget a warning or two. that'll teach me to post before dinner.

"Don't wanna pretend ya don't exist," Elvis murmurs into the crook of your neck. "Satnin loves ya and Daddy does and Dodger a-and if my fans don't, then maybe they ain't fans of *me*."

You laugh, watching as the warm air from your breath shook a few of Elvis's strands of hair loose. "Oh, they're fans alright. Jus' of those hips and what they want you to do wit' 'em."

Your boyfriend of two years looks down at his feet, the very picture of the shy boy you fell in love with. That boy you fell in love with who stuttered so bad you had to finish his words for him until he got used to you and gave you little nicknames. None of them have stuck, though and he's had to resort to the typical baby and darlin'. Still, it doesn't change the rush of love he feels for you and that you feel for him any time you're within fifty feet of each other.

He's still managing the bashful look for longer than you think is strictly necessary and you take a moment to bend down, forcing him to have to look at your face, grin and all. "Am I making my Teddy Bear feel embarrassed? Don't wanna think of all those girls dreaming of you and your hips?"

There's more words on the tip of your tongue that Elvis makes disappear when he sneaks a kiss on your lips and steals just a little bit of your breath away. His smile threatens to fill your heart to bursting with love before he speaks. "I know I got one girl I want to. Kisses like an angel, too."

"An angel?" Your tone is a little playful, as you grab at his face and pull him in for another kiss. "Does she look like one too?"

His eyes soften just a tad before pressing his forehead against yours. "Always. Figure if I marry her I'll be in heaven on Earth."

A laugh leaves your mouth as you shake your head. "Now you're jus' bein' cheesy, 'Vis. Come on, let's— you promised me time at this fair 'fore you gotta go back on tour."

"Still think I oughta take ya wit' me," is all you hear behind you as a grumbled reply.

"I'm not going on the ferris wheel!"

"Darlin', it ain't that high. Don't ya wanna look over the whole fair? Feel larger than everythin'?" Elvis tries to reason with you in front of the ferris wheel. You're both thankfully not in line and holding it up but you're still within earshot of some people snickering.

"I— That's what you want to do, not— not me. No, I'm okay to stay on the ground, thank you very much." You wince at how you're practically stuttering out your answer and at how people are snickering at the discussion about it that you and Elvis are having.

Elvis's eyes drift to the crowd and in the back of his mind he hears the Colonel's voice reminding him that those girls are the ones who pay to hear him sing. Those girls don't know you're anything more than a friend to him. After all, it's one thing to have a famous girl on your arm, another to have in his words—a plain Jane hometown girl. One is threatening and the other is something that can be tossed aside. Their laughter has gotten louder and he sees you starting to curl in on yourself in an effort to make yourself seem smaller and less noticeable. That's not what you do. That's never been what you do and Elvis can't stand seeing it. With one final glance toward the crowd, he steps forward and grabs your face with both hands, pulling you into a kiss. There's a series of loud gasps in the crowd and you immediately start to pull away only to feel one of his hands move down to your hip and pull you back flush against him. You swear you feel his cock starting to firm up.

"I wanna take in every moment tonight wit' ya. I know ya don't wanna go up on that but— honey, I don't— I gotta have ya with me." He looks back at the crowd. "And I wanna show ya off. Want 'em to see who I love more than anyone other than my mama."

For a moment you don't move, the still tittering giggles echoing in your head even as his words fully sink in. He wants to be with you and wants to show people he's with you, damn the consequences to his career. It warms you from the inside out on the slightly chilly October night and you can't help the way you bite your lip and rock just slightly against him as a thank you almost. His eyes widen just a hair even as they darken.

"You're gonna have to protect me, Teddy Bear. And you'll have to do the leading this time."

A smirk crosses his lips before he steps away, holding out his hand as he does so. "Then come on, Sugar Bear. Let me show ya how fun these can be."

Flashes of cameras are the only thing you see going up and a part of you wants to bury your face into Elvis's chest before you decide against it. He wants to show you off so you'll give everyone a show to see you at least this once. Elvis is talking to you as you're going up, telling you to look in the distance and pointing out things that make him laugh, shaking the pod as he does. It should terrify you but seeing Elvis happy like this calms you down better than you ever thought was possible. As you finally reach the top, you've curled against Elvis, your hand settled into his lap as he peers over at you.

"Ya plannin' on doin' somethin' there, Sugar Bear?" He teases even as he realizes that this Ferris wheel is going awfully slow and he swears he hears something creaking that shouldn't be. A quick peek down has him even more worried, not that he shows it on his face.

"I felt him. Down there, 'Vis. Felt him say hello against me." You answer, attempting to appear innocent, only to have the smirk on your face ruining it. "Thought he wanted to see one of his friends."

Elvis leans back against the back of the pod and lets out a sigh. "Oh he wants to see one o' them al'ight. Jus' not the one you're bringin' out."

You start to open your mouth to speak only to hear the sound of the Ferris wheel stopping. Your heartbeat jumps as you look down and feel the pod move with every shift you and Elvis do. This is why you hadn't wanted to come up here and within what feels like an instant your breath starts coming in small pants, panicking until you feel Elvis's hands grab yours. For some ungodly reason his cock is still at attention, pressing against his slacks and giving your eyes something to focus on that isn't the ground below you.

"Sugar Bear, you— look at me. Focus on me. Ain't— We'll be fine. Got stuck on one of these in Alabama a while back. They're gonna fix it." Elvis stares at your face for a moment before glancing down at your hands, still faintly shaking. "Let— I'm gonna— Ya need somethin' else to focus on. Ya— hell, this ain't the time and place but ya wanna focus on him? Got him all achin' for ya."

"Someone might see!" You practically shout though no one can hear you from how high up you are. "I— Elvis. It'll be all over the papers and you'll be in so much trouble."

"'Cause I fooled 'round with my girlfriend?" His answering chuckle has the pod shaking just a little bit and you bite your lip, eyes trying to stay glued to his crotch in order to focus on something calming— in a way. "Darlin'— ya— ain't no one gonna see but you and me. I'll— I'll make it up to ya as soon as we're back on the ground."

As if to prove the point, he removes one of his hands and places it right above your pubic bone, pressing against it in a way that has you arching your back just a little bit. You curse the fact that he knows you so well in that moment and curse how you know he's aware of how damp your underwear has become with that action after everything else. Your tongue darts out to lick at your lips before your free hand starts to unbutton his slacks.

Tonight you had thought Elvis had on his underwear and yet as soon as your hand moves the zipper, you're greeted by the soft flesh of his foreskin. There's minor prickles of his hair but you ignore them in favor of seeing how his pink little head is starting to peek out. Your mouth waters.

"You gotta be quiet, Teddy Bear. And you better promise."

"Scouts honor, honey— Lord—" he hisses out a curse word or five at the way you spit onto his cock, preparing it before his precum could do the job for you. You take your time, inching back his foreskin and revealing his aching cock to you. "Gentle— I— Been forever since I had ya grip 'im like this."

A smile crosses your face at the praise as Elvis shifts, trying to pump his cock in your hand when you're not moving it. "Patience, Teddy Bear. I can lead you everywhere, 'member? I don't want to hurt him."

"He'll heal up for his other friends real quick," he pants as you finally start to move your hand against the soft skin of his cock. The precum his body produces in what always feels like an overabundance having your hand glide smoothly up and down his cock. Your thumb brushes against the tip and his teeth dig into his lower lip to try and not yowl at the sensation. Your hands smaller than his but it's so much softer, no calluses and gentler even as your pace feels breakneck. His hips don't want to stop moving, humping as if that will earn him more friction or give him a better hole to fuck then the one you're making with your hand. It rocks the pod enough that he finally feels your free arm practically pinning his hips down. "Come— Don't be like that. Let 'em—"

"We're shakin' too much." You say as if that explains everything. "You still want to— release don't you?"

Somehow despite having seen each other naked and despite the fact that you two have done multiple sexual things together the word come always flusters you just a little. In another time and place Elvis would have laughed. If his cock wasn't feeling like it was gonna burst, he'd have laughed. He swears his balls twitch in fear at the idea of not coming. The only response he can manage is a fierce nod. "Ya know I do."

"Then stop movin'!," you request except it sounds more like a demand than anything else. It works though and Elvis finds himself pinned to the back of the seat in the pod even as you remove your arm. He chances a glance at you, marveling in how your tongue sticks out as you pump his pink cock. Your hand can't entirely fit around it and yet it feels better than any time he stroked himself on the road to the thought of you. His cock is covered in precum and he wishes it was both yours and his making it shiny and glistening but for now it'll do. He can survive and bury his face in your little kitty and bury his cock in later. He leans back, head looking up at the night sky, trying to keep himself from coming too soon at the feel of your hand and how your face looks as you pleasure him.

There's a noise that signals they're almost done fixing the ferris wheel that hits Elvis's ears over the slick and squelching sounds of your hand pumping his cock and he moves to grab your wrist, forcing you to stop. "We're gonna start moving soon. Gotta—"

As if you don't want to hear the words he's saying you cut him off with a kiss and start to move your hand and wrist and thumb in such a way that has him clawing at the metal, your skirt, his pants, anything to try and steady himself before you lean over and whisper. "Let go."

Despite his best efforts a shout leaves his mouth as he comes, the intensity hitting him not unlike a lightning bolt. His breath comes in pants, quick and uncontrolled as he looks down to see your hand covered in his cum and the seat with some of it as well. He supposes he should be thankful it didn't get onto his pants. He starts to offer a handkerchief he has in his pocket to clean you off before he realizes you're licking your hand clean. Words fail him in that moment as he just stares.

You shrug even as he can see the embarrassment at being caught clear on your face. "I— i missed how it tasted."

"You can taste him all night long tonight." He murmurs, the words tumbling out before he even thinks to say anything else. His mouth is open to say more when you both feel the ride start to move once more. Elvis wastes no time in buttoning up his slacks and making sure you're both put back together as if nothing had happened by the time you're back on the ground.

The pair of you don't waste a single moment exiting the pod, ignoring Scotty's question about what that shout was up there to try and find some place private enough for Elvis to stick his head under your skirt. You settle for a private spot next to a tent no one goes into in the dark. As Elvis sinks down to his knees he winks at you. "Missed how she tasted too. One more ride after this? Or do I need to take you home?"

"Depends," you look down at Elvis and card your hands through his hair. "Depends on if we're still achin' after all this."

taglist: @ab4eva , @blurredcolour, @butlersxbirdy, @precious-little-scoundrel, @eliseinmemphis, @prompted-wordsmith, @missmaywemeetagain, @lookingforrainbows, @araxw, @thatbanditqueen, @ellie-24, @austinbutlersgirl67, @heartbrake-hotel, @ccab, @18lkpeters, @slutforsomegoodlettuce, @dkayfixates, @kendralavon7, @chasingwildflowers, @notstefaniepresley, @wanderingelvis, @kxnnxy, @powerofelvis, @stylespresleyhearted @be-my-ally, @mooodyblue, @pixiedustcosmos, @jessicarcates, @amydarcimarie, @flwrs4aust, @myradiaz, @adaydreamaway08, @arabellalightning505, @doll-elvis guarantee i’m missing someone. i tried the end. also i clearly added this originally. also you want to be added just ask me. i keep forgetting people or losing people in these and just it’s a mess.

#elvis presley #elvis 2022 #elvis presley x reader #elvis presley x you #elvis presley x y/n #elvis presley smut #50s elvis #austin elvis x reader #elvis presley fanfiction #elvis presley fanfic #elvis presley imagine #ally writes #ally's wet hot smut summer

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pedrito-friskito · 2 years ago

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strawberry wine - joel miller x ofc!liv stone/fem!reader

during - part nineteen

series masterlist | main masterlist | read on ao3

you make some new friends.

a/n: this might be my favourite chapter yet. I had sooooooo much fun writing it, and finally touching on/adapting scenes from the show is bringing me so much joy I can’t wait to get to the meat of it, but the parts between now and then excite me too!!

word count: 6.7k

warnings: MY BLOG IS 18+, MINORS DNI, if you’ve been reading up until now you know the drill, I’m getting lazy with my warnings LOL, no smut here, a bit of angst, F R I E N D S H I P

✨@friskito-library for new works and updates✨

Your days in the radio room have become more and more frequent, since your run-in with Gwen and her crew. It’s like you told Tess; with Hartford gone, you’d lost one of your more consistent meet-ups, and you needed to know what else was out there. You needed new connections, new friends, allies. You needed something. In case Boston went belly-up and needed to get the hell out of dodge and never look back, you needed a soft place to land.

Abe’s garnered quite the collection, over the years, and it’s like everywhere you look, there’s another wire connecting from one wall to the next, batteries that probably shouldn’t still work plugged into far too many devices. His map collection is something to write home about, and you spend some time trying to figure out the path Joel and Tommy took from Austin, but when your finger finds Cincinnati, your chest goes tight, and you return to the room Abe’s set up for just for you, branched off the main room he uses to send requested messages.

You’re still paying him with cigarettes, although some of them are the hand-rolled FEDRA shit that McCoy has a penchant for. The soldier’s other habits always seem to win, though, and you always have at least half a dozen for Abe, who’s quietly grateful, waving you off into the side room, closing the door behind you.

“I don’t wanna know,” he told you when you first asked. It’s been a while now, though you stopped for a while when Nick shot Joel, when you both needed time to recover. “Just do what you need to do, and leave me out of it, okay?”

“So you don’t want any more cigarettes?”

He pointed a finger at you. “I never said that.”

And here you are, one side of the big headphones pressed to your ear. The foam has definitely seen better days, but the sound is relatively clear. You’ve kept a notebook of your contacts, the frequencies they’re usually on, the days of the week and times they’re usually available. Today, you’ve gone through every single one, and no one is out there. So you’re just twisting the dials, the strange sound of the static and frequencies almost giving you a headache, but then—

Well, I’ve been afraid of changin’, cuz I’ve built my life around you.

You haven’t heard that song in a long, long time. In fact, you’re pretty sure the last time you heard it was in Joel’s truck, in that field just outside of Austin, staring up at the stars. Fleetwood Mac has always been one of your favourites, and you slide the other side of the headphones over, encasing yourself in the song, shutting your eyes as the music crackles over the radio.

But time makes you bolder, even children get older, and I’m getting older, too.

You can feel the song in your soul. It digs straight into your chest, the crooned lyrics wrapping around your heart and squeezing tight.

Oh, I’m getting older, too.

You let it wash over you, sinking back into the chair, wrapping your arms around yourself, tilting your head back on your shoulders and making the cable connecting the headset to the radio stretch. You’ve found a few cassette tapes over the years — namely the same Led Zeppelin album you’d once given Joel for his truck — but you make a mental note to keep your eye out for Fleetwood Mac or Stevie Nicks.

The song finishes, and you sigh, straightening in the chair, reaching out to turn off the radio, fingers brushing against the knob.

“If there’s anybody out there, my name is Frank. I’m on frequency 1462. We have resources, and we are looking to trade.”

He repeats himself again, and then another song starts. More Fleetwood, Go Your Own Way.

Well, shit.

Your fingers fly across the knobs, turning to the right frequency, wincing at the whine as it clicks on. You reach for the microphone.

“Hello?”

There’s a fraction of a pause before, “Oh my god, hi!”

If your years of smuggling have taught you anything, it’s that you can’t trust anybody right off the bat. You have to be wary, you have to be careful. Hell, there are still people you’ve traded with that you don’t trust as far as you can throw. It’s just the way things are.

But fuck, if he doesn’t have the kindest-sounding voice.

“Is this Frank?”

“It is!” he replies, his excitement somehow palpable through the radio waves. “Oh my god, I was starting to think no one was gonna hear that message.”

“It’s a good song,” you laugh, pulling the mic closer to you on the table. “Haven’t heard it in a long time.”

“It’s a classic,” he agrees, and there’s a slight pause before, “Okay, I’m gonna admit, I have no idea how to do this.”

“How to do…?”

“Make deals,” he says, “meet people over the radio. Have you done this before?”

You’re not quite sure how much truth you should offer a perfect stranger, regardless of how kind he sounds. If this is a FEDRA trap, chances are good you’ll be able to blackmail your way out of it. So you settle on, “Once or twice.”

“Am I allowed to know your name? Or is that not…?”

“It’s Liv,” you offer. “Where are you, Frank?”

He pauses again. “I’m not sure if I should…” You can hear the sudden hesitancy in his tone; you know it well.

“Why don’t I tell you how I normally do this?”

“That would be perfect.”

“You tell me what you have to offer, I tell you what I have to trade. We settle on terms, pick a meeting spot and a date, and that’s that. You don’t kill me or my people, I don’t kill you or yours, and we part ways with what we’ve bargained for. Simple.”

“Well, when you put it like that…”

“But before we get into that, can we at least make sure we’re in the same state? I try not to cross the borders if I can manage it.”

“That’s fair, I suppose,” he agrees. “We’re in Massachusetts.”

“Good,” you nod, reaching for your notebook and pen, scrawling Frank’s name on your page, along with the frequency number. “So are we.”

“Coast?”

“Pretty close.”

“Good.”

“So we’re in the same state,” you say, tapping the pen against the paper. “What are you offering to trade, Frank?”

“Tell me something first,” he prompts, and your brow lifts slowly. “How long do your…relationships with traders usually last?”

Your throat bobs, Gwen’s screaming voice echoing through your head, but you shove it away. “Depends. As long as everyone holds up their end of the deal, there’s no real time limit.”

“What’s the longest you’ve traded with someone?”

“There’s a group in Providence I’ve been trading with since 2008. Never had any issues there.”

“Uh-huh, good to know. The thing is, what I’m proposing here, it might not be the same as the other deals you’ve made. We’re well-protected here. My partner, Bill, he’s…he’s a survivalist, and he’s built this place to last. We’re not going anywhere fast, we’re sustainable.”

“Meaning you wouldn’t come to the city,” you say, catching on, and now you’re the one feeling hesitant. “Depending how far out you are, it might not be worth it to us. There’d have to be something worth the risk each time, and I don’t—”

“Freshly cooked meals,” he says, and you stop dead. “Fresh vegetables. Wine, the good kind. New clothes, building materials, and weap—”

“Stop,” you say quickly, cutting him off. “I only trust the radio so far. Give me coordinates, and a date, and we go from there.”

He gives you the coordinates, you scribble the numbers down, and decide on a date, three days from today. You say your goodbyes, and you tell him not to get back on the radio until you’ve met, but to keep playing the music, so you know everything is still a-go. “You like Fleetwood Mac?”

“I love Fleetwood Mac.”

“Then you and I are gonna get along just fine.”

You can’t help the smile in your voice. “I’ve got a good feeling about this, Frank.”

“Me, too.”

“Well, I’ll see you soon, I guess.”

“See you soon. Oh, and Liv?”

“Yeah?”

“Stay safe.”

It catches you off guard, makes something crawl up the back of your throat.“Thanks, Frank. You too.”

You dial to a different frequency the moment you’re done, shutting down the radio entirely, and leave without a word. Abe doesn’t so much as glance at you as you head out, past the long string of people waiting patiently for him to send their messages.

Joel’s home before you are, which is a shock.

His back is killing him. Tommy’s skipped out on every single one of his jobs lately, and Joel feels like every time he turns a corner, there’s something else that needs repairs, another new face asking him to fix something. His hands hurt, he’s got a kink in his neck, and all he really wants to do is fall into bed and have your body curled against his.

He sighs as he gets through the door, brow pinching when he doesn’t find you perched at the table or sitting on the couch, head bent over your maps or flipping through your notebooks. It’s become habit for you lately, wanting to build up your connections more and more, now that Hartford is gone.

The guilt over the entire situation lingers in the back of Joel’s mind, a nagging voice that sounds suspiciously like his brother.

Joel shakes the thought away. He did what he had to, to protect you. To protect his wife, his family.

He did what he had to.

Locking the door behind him, he tosses his makeshift tool bag — a ratty backpack he found at the donation hall before it shut down — into the corner, and flops onto the couch. He slings his hand over his eyes. He’ll just close them for a minute, just until you’re home, until you’re…

A nightmare latches onto him with a vice-like grip, throws him fully out of sleep with a gasp, his chest heaving.

“Joel?” your voice calls, a soft echo across the apartment, and he turns to see you perched in one of the kitchen chairs, pencil between your teeth, your hair falling in your eyes. “Baby, you okay?”

He doesn’t answer right away, swinging his legs off the couch, getting to his feet with a groan. He rubs at his lower back as he pads over to the kitchen, coming to stand behind you. He leans forward and plants both hands on the table either side of you, leaning down until he can fit his chin into the curve of your neck, planting soft kisses at your pulse.

“Fine, now that you’re home,” he mumbles, and you lean back into him slightly, turning your head so you can kiss at his, lifting a hand to ruffle your hair. “You were out late.”

“I’ve been home for hours,” you reply, huffing a laugh, setting the pencil on the table. Your maps are all spread out, the big one of Massachusetts on the top. “You’ve been asleep the entire time. Didn’t wanna wake you.”

Joel drags one hand off the table, moves his arm so it’s slung around your chest, curling his fingers around your rib cage. “How nice of you.”

“Best wife ever,” you say, and Joel laughs into your skin. “Oh, and there’s dinner for you. Abe’s wife sent me home with food as thank you for fixing their door the other day.”

“What is it?”

“Something with Spam in it,” you tell him, and Joel wrinkles his nose. “It tastes better than it looks.”

“Noted,” he grumbles, pressing one last kiss to your throat before he straightens, spine creaking as he goes. “Fuck, I’m getting old.”

“I think the grey in your beard suits you,” you answer, turning back to your maps, “just for the record.”

The corner of his mouth quirks as he heads for the fridge, fishing out the plate of food and leaning against the counter. “How was your day, baby?”

Your pencil drops again, and you push your chair back, the legs squeaking against the floor. You turn yourself towards him fully, slowly getting to your feet, taking a step towards him. “I made a friend.”

Joel’s brow quirks. You know a lot of people in the QZ, that much he knows for certain, but he’s really not sure how many of them you would refer to as friends. “Oh?”

“On the radio. His name is Frank.” You turn back to the maps, eyes raking over the paper, your finger finding a spot marked with pencil. “He lives in Lincoln, and we’re gonna go see him in three days.”

He nearly drops the plate. “What?”

“I mapped out the path. It’s a bit of a hike, almost five hours outside of Boston, but—”

“Ten miles?” Joel repeats, and you just nod. “Liv, we’ve barely been outside the city limits, and you wanna hike ten miles to some random stranger?”

“Frank,” you say, your tone almost petulant, and Joel puts the plate down. “They have food, Joel. Real food, not bullshit QZ rations. Wine, weapons, building materials. New clothes. This could be good for us, Joel. Really good.”

He narrows his eyes at you. “You want me to hike five hours for wine?”

“I want you to hike ten miles for a chance at something good, Joel. Something new.” Your gaze drops and you knot your hands together. “Something to make up for what we did, maybe. Somehow. I don’t know. I just…I feel good about this, baby. And it’s just a meeting, to start. I didn’t promise him anything, just that we’d meet, and we’d talk. Then we go from there.”

Something in your voice tugs at him, and for a moment, Joel’s not quite sure what it is, but then it hits him.

It’s hope. It’s the most hopeful you’ve sounded in a long time, and when you take another step toward him, he opens his arms to you.

“The route will take us right past Cumberland Farms,” you continue, and Joel cups your hip in his palm, letting out a quiet oomph as you lean against him, reaching up to twine your arms around your neck. “We can stop there first, stash some stuff just in case.”

“A safety net,” Joel says, and you nod.

“Exactly.”

“You’ve been thinking about this a lot, haven’t you?”

“You were asleep for a long time,” you reply, and Joel just scoffs, leaning in to kiss you softly. “Wait,” you pull back, moving one hand to the middle of his chest, pushing lightly. “Is that a yes?”

“Well, I’m not about to let you go by yourself now, am I?”

It’s a long fucking hike.

Thankfully, it’s relatively easy. The path you’d chosen isn’t overly adventurous, no daunting hills or thick forests. It’s mostly open air, rolling fields, forests either side of the roads. The weather is beautiful, which is a plus, though you can feel the sweat pouring down your back as you walk, on the right side of Joel, as always.

You recount the entire conversation you had with Frank to Joel as you walk. Tess had offered to come with you, too, but you decided the two of you would go for the first meeting, and if things worked out, then you’d all go together the next time. You could tell part of her was relieved, and she admitted to you later she had plans to see Robin the same day you were going.

“You got instinct, baby,” Joel tells you after you’ve finished the story, your fingers twined together as he pulls you out of the path of a fallen telephone wire in the middle of the road. “Don’t forget that. I’ve seen it; you know what you’re doing. And if you feel good about this, then I’m game. We see what happens. And if anyone tries to lay a hand on you—”

“Hit ‘em real fuckin’ hard with my bat.”

He grins. “That’s my girl.”

The praise makes your chest warm, and when he’s close enough, you slide yourself against him, slipping your arm around his waist, tugging his around your shoulders. “Your wife is a badass, Joel Miller,” you say, and he barks a laugh, the corner of his eyes crinkling. “In case you weren’t aware.”

“Oh, I’m aware,” he says, his brows lifting. “Believe me, I’m aware. It’s fuckin’ hot. Only reason I married you.”

Now you’re the one that laughs, sliding your hand into his back pocket and squeezing his ass through his jeans. “Jackass.”

“Yeah, yeah,” he grumbles, and squeezes your shoulder, turning his head to kiss the top of your head. “Liv, baby?”

“Mmm?”

“When we get back to Boston, I’m gonna try and talk to Tommy. Make peace or somethin’.”

You nearly stop dead in your tracks. In fact, if Joel wasn’t still walking with his arm around you, you might have fallen over. But you don’t let your shock be known, schooling your face as neutral as possible while letting one brow raise. “Oh, really?”

“I’ve been thinkin’ about it a lot, and I just…He’s my baby brother. He’s a fuckin’ idiot, and he’s gonna get himself killed, but he’s family. And we keep going for family, so I gotta fix it. Somehow.”

Slowly, you nod. “You think he’s gonna tell the Fireflies about me?”

“I’ll break his fuckin’ nose if he does.”

“Joel.” You smack at his chest. “That’s not how you fix it.”

“I know, I know. It’s…” Joel shakes his head. “I want to believe he won’t. I really do.”

“So talk to him,” you say with a nod. “See what happens, go from there, and please, just don’t fucking hit each other.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

You continue on, the sun beating down on your every step. There’s not much more conversation, but the silence is easy, a comfort. Joel doesn’t let you wander far, you eventually step out of his grip but your hands are still linked together.

Your stop at Cumberland Farms is brief. In the early days, you brought a stash box to the gas station, tucked it below one of the floor panels. You and Joel mostly empty your packs into the box, some ammunition, a spare knife, food that’ll last a good while. A backup. You pull one of the long-empty freezers over the panel, try to make the trash and debris cover it up, just to be safe. Joel gives you a nod of approval, and then you keep going.

Eventually, the tree-lined road gives way to open space. More hills, dips in the earth. Far in the distance, you see a plane broken in half on the hilltop — an emergency landing gone wrong — and your stomach rolls at the thought of what’s still up there.

But then you turn another corner, and it’s even worse.

Beside you, you hear Joel’s quiet shock. “What in the…?”

You grip his hand tighter, pushing yourself against him, tearing your eyes from the sight before you. “I thought he was lying.”

Joel’s head whips in your direction. “What? Who? You knew about this?”

You swallow hard around the lump that’s formed in your throat. “Early days, after the outbreak. Like, the week after, FEDRA swept through the small towns and evacuated them. Told people they were going to a QZ. And they were, if there was room. If not…” You tilt your head towards the pit.

“How did you know? You’ve been out this way?”

“Never this far,” you answer, shaking your head. “Nick, he…he told me about it.” Joel stiffens, and you squeeze his arm. “He wasn’t part of it, but he knew soldiers that were. It wasn’t just here; it was all over. Across the country. Who fucking knows how many people FEDRA killed.”

“I just don’t get why.”

“Better dead than infected.”

“Jesus Christ,” Joel mutters, and pulls you closer, turning you away from it. Not that it makes a difference; you know you’ll be seeing the half-buried skeletons, the scraps of clothing and the scattered belongings, in the back of your mind for a long time. “Maybe there’s a path through the forest.”

You shake your head. “Just keep going.”

“Liv—”

“Keep going, Joel.”

So you do. You try to bury the sight, try to push it away, try to focus on where you’re going instead.

It’s like you turn the corner, and all of a sudden, there’s a town right in front of you. A small town, to be sure, a handful of buildings, some that have seen better days, and when your eyes land on the nine-foot metal fence around the perimeter, Frank’s wavy voice on the radio echoes through your head.

We’re well-protected here.

He sure as hell wasn’t lying.

As you approach the fence, Joel situates himself in front of you, his expression wary, an arm held out, protector mode on. You get closer, and suddenly it strikes you that you have no idea what Frank looks like. You have no idea who you’re looking for.

But you’re pretty sure it’s not the large bearded man with the giant fucking gun pointed at your head.

Instantly, you’ve both got your hands in the air, Joel still a half step in front of you. “What do you want?” the man barks, lifting the gun a little higher, switching between aiming the barrel at your head and at Joel’s.

“We’re here to see Frank,” you say instantly, nearly tripping over the words. “I’m Liv, this is Joel. I spoke to Frank on the radio.”

“Oh my fucking…Bill, put the gun down!” another, strangely familiar voice shouts, and over the larger man’s — Bill’s — shoulder, you see a slightly smaller man, a touch taller than Bill, but thinner, his hair shorter, his beard a little more well-kept. He’s got a dishrag over his shoulder, and as he jogs up to Bill, pushing his partner aside and reaching for the gate before you, he grins at you.

The gun is lowered, but as Frank pulls the gate open, Bill pulls out the same bio-scanner machine you’ve seen FEDRA soldiers toting around back in the QZ, and your heart sinks into your toes.

“Would you put that thing away?” Frank chides, waving at Bill, beaming at you now as you take a hesitant step towards the now-open gate. “You must be Liv.”

His smile is infectious, and as Bill stows the scanner, your excitement returns. “Hi, Frank.”

“Come in, come in!” he says, and reaches for your hand, tugging you through. “You guys are just in time; lunch is almost ready. Right, Bill?”

“…yes.”

Joel’s a half step behind you now, his hand finding the small of your back as you walk through the gate completely. Bill sniffs as you step past, and closes the gate behind you both, hitting a keypad that emits a loud beep, the heavy sound of magnets slamming together.

You’re at a loss for words as you follow Frank down the street. It looks so…normal. So alive, so lived in. You’ve become so accustomed to abandoned buildings and broken windows; to be around buildings that look well taken care of, a house that looks like it belongs to someone, you’re at a loss.

“This place is beautiful,” you manage to say, picking up your pace to keep up with Frank. “It looks so…”

“Normal?” Frank asks, and you just nod, giving a little laugh. “Cookie-cutter? I know. It’s definitely grown on me.”

“You weren’t always here?”

“Oh, no, not always. It’s been about…three years now? Something like that?” He waves a hand. “We can talk more about that stuff over lunch. You two must be starving.”

You turn another corner, and the most beautiful house stands before you. Two stories, perfect white picket fence out front, planters filled with flowers lining the walkways, the hedges and lawn neatly trimmed. A US flag sticks out from the front of the house, the fabric billowing in the warm breeze, and you nearly topple over when you see the patio furniture set out, four chairs around a table, each place already set, wine in the middle, glasses at each spot.

You and Joel are frozen in place, but Frank continues on, stepping through the small gate in the fence and walking towards the table. Bill stalks past you, heading into the house, and Frank waves you on. “Come! Sit!”

Joel’s hand pushes against your back, his voice low in your ear. “You still feelin’ good about this?”

“Very,” you reply, and let him propel you forward slightly, unable to wipe the grin on your face as you walk towards the table.

You take a seat, Joel sliding into the chair next to you, and Frank produces a bottle of wine, filling the glass in front of you. Joel gives a little nod as Frank fills his glass, and you’ll be the first to admit you reach for the glass quickly, taking a long sip that tastes like heaven. You’ve never been a huge wine drinker; you indulged every once in a while before — the occasional glass if you were out for dinner, and your mom had a penchant for rosé — but this is good fucking wine.

“How long did it take you guys?” Frank asks as he fills his own glass, then the empty seat for Bill. “Easy travels I hope?”

“‘Bout five hours,” Joel answers as you take another sip. “No Infected, and the weather’s good.”

“It’s a beautiful day, isn’t it?” Frank says, still beaming at you, and you’re smiling into your wine. “We’ll eat first, and then I’ll show you two around. Bill’s a bit…hesitant about the whole thing, but he’ll come around. He’s a big softie.” He pauses, brow furrowing slightly. “Sort of.”

As if on cue, the front door opens, and Bill appears, calling Frank’s name. The taller man rises, jogging towards the door and when he turns back, he has two plates of food in his hands. It’s fine china, piled with steaming veggies and pieces of meat, actual fucking gravy and Bill has a bowl of dinner rolls tucked in the crook of his arm.

Frank sets a plate down in front of you, and for a second, you honestly feel like you could cry. “Oh my god, thank you.” Bill hands the other two plates to Frank, then disappears towards the house. Frank goes to follow, but then waves his hand at his partner’s back.

“He can handle the salad himself.” He settles into the seat across from you, gestures to the plate you’re still staring at. “Go ahead, eat! There’s more too, if you’re still hungry after.”

Joel wastes no time, but you wait for Bill to return, saying your thanks when he hands you a bowl of salad that looks fresh from the garden. Your mouth is watering. He just gives you a curt nod, sinks into the chair opposite of Joel, and pulls a handgun from the holster on his leg, setting it beside his plate. A warning, and you see Joel’s eyes dart to it before he glances at you. You sip your wine again, your hand finding Joel’s thigh beneath the table.

“Well, this is just incredible,” you say, breaking the awkward silence that’s settled. “Honestly, it’s just…it’s amazing, truly.”

“Right?” Frank agrees, giving you an almost conspiratorial grin. He picks up the wine bottle from the table, gestures to your glass. “Refill?”

“Please,” you say, holding your glass out.

Frank side-eyes Bill as he picks up the gun, pulling back the hammer with a quiet click. “Could you not, please? They’re our guests.”

Joel stares at the gun for a long moment before, “I’m the same way.”

“Oh, you’re a paranoid schizophrenic, too?” Frank asks, and you have to stifle your chuckle, covering your mouth with your hand so you don’t spit wine.

Bill rolls his eyes. “I’m not a schizophrenic.”

Bill and Joel share another glance, and you take another sip of wine before clearing your throat. “Well, I just wanna say, uh, gun aside — which I get, for the record.” You squeeze Joel’s leg beneath the table. “You’re protecting your family. But this is just so nice, and so appreciated, to have a meal like this, in such a beautiful place. It’s been so long since things felt normal, and this…even if we don’t end up working together, I just…thank you. Both of you.”

Frank meets your eyes, holding his glass towards you. “We are working together.”

“We haven’t even—” you start, but before you can finish your sentence, Frank sets down his glass for a moment and gets to his feet, reaching for his glass and the bottle again.

“You know what?” he says, giving you a grin. “Let’s go inside. Liv, I wanna show you something.”

You feel Joel’s eyes slide back to you, his brow furrowed deeply, and you squeeze his leg one more time before you’re getting up. “Actually, I’m dying to see the inside.”

“Let’s go,” Frank continues, ignoring Bill’s protests. “Bring your wine.” As you follow him towards the house, he pauses to let you catch up, turning to you. “Like I said, he’ll come around, he just…takes a while.”

You can’t help your chuckle. “Reminds me of Joel.”

As you step inside the house, you’re at a loss for words. Antique furniture, beautiful paintings, and it feels like a home. A stark contrast to your apartment back in Boston, which has felt more and more like just a place to keep your stuff. Especially since Joel showed up; wherever he was, that was home.

You dance your fingers across the piano keys as Frank turns towards the dining room, a large mahogany table taking up most of the space, matching chairs, an old grandfather clock, a covered desk. You don’t have enough of a musical ear to know if the piano is still in tune or not, but then Frank calls your name, and you wander over, sipping your wine as you go, careful not to let it spill.

“This place is amazing,” you comment, and Frank grins, turning to rifle through one of the desk drawers. “Did you and Bill find this place? I’m shocked it’s in such good condition.”

“No, Bill has always lived here,” Frank answers, still searching for something. “I was heading for Boston, after the Baltimore QZ fell. There were ten of us originally, but by the time I ended up here, I was the only one left.”

“I’m sorry,” you say, almost a reflex, and Frank waves you off. “So, you and Bill…you found each other, in the middle of all this?”

He finds what he’s looking for, something concealed in his hand as he pushes the drawer shut, and the grin on his face as he straightens to look at you makes your chest warm. He’s just so charming, kindness radiating off of him in waves. You’re not used to it.

“We did,” he says with a nod, an almost dreamy look in his eye. “It’s hopelessly romantic, isn’t it? Must be the artist in me. And you should have seen this place when I first got here. At least an inch of dust everywhere you looked.”

“Bill’s not much a cleaner?”

“He’s practical, but he forgets to pay attention to things sometimes. But he’s learning.” He smiles. “We all are.”

You scoff a little laugh. “That’s a good way to put it.”

Frank holds the thing he’d fished out of the desk to you. “For you.”

Your jaw drops. Fleetwood Mac. “You’re kidding.”

“No,” he laughs, putting the cassette tape in your hands. “It’s yours. Landslide is on side B.”

“Frank, I can’t—”

“You can,” he presses, chuckling at your protest. “A token of appreciation for travelling this far to meet with us.” Before you can refuse, Frank turns, refilling his glass where he’d set it on the table and sinking into one of the chairs. “Now, tell me how this works.”

The majority of the afternoon is spent following Frank around, him showing you the numbered but incredible sights Lincoln has to offer. It feels like stepping into a history book in the best kind of way, and that feeling of normalcy, the white picket fence only adds to it.

“So, how long have you and Joel been you and Joel?” Frank asks. You’re in the clothing boutique, poking through the racks of clothes. Frank told you to pick out an outfit, and you’re taking your choices very seriously, your mind torn between desperately wanting something cute while knowing you need something practical.

“Hah. It’s, uh, complicated?” you reply, your voice hitching on the word. You rub the sleeve of a green sweater between your fingers, savouring the softness. “We knew each other before the outbreak.”

Over the top of the rack, you can see Frank make a face. “That doesn’t sound that complicated.”

Before you know it, you’ve told him everything. It throws you, to trust someone this quickly. But, he invited you into his home, trusted you not to turn on him and his partner, his family. And that warmth he seems to radiate, it just adds to it all, making you feel like you’ve known him much longer than you have.

“Okay, let me get this straight,” he says after you’ve given him the whole story. “So you were together in 2001, then you moved to Boston, then shit hits the fan, you’re still in Boston, and Joel shows up five years later with his brother and another woman?”

You nod, flicking through a rack to find a pair of black jeans in your size. “Yes, Tommy and Tess.”

“And Joel and Tess were a thing when they first got to Boston?”

“Yes.”

“Then Tess broke it off with Joel, and you two got back together? And she’s one of your closest friends?”

You nod again. “Yes.”

“And Tommy is…?”

You sigh. “Tommy is even more complicated. I think I’d need another bottle of wine before I even start talking about Tommy.”

Frank grins. “All the more incentive for you to come back.”

“As if I’m not already convinced.”

Outside the boutique, you can hear Joel calling your name. You glance at your watch. “Shit. We probably need to start heading back.”

“Take those,” Frank says, gesturing to the jeans in your hands. He has the green sweater you’ve decided on in his hands. “I told Bill to pack up some food for you too.”

You head out of the boutique and towards the gate, and as you approach, Joel and Bill walk out of the house, Joel’s bag slung over his shoulder, looking a bit fuller than it had when you arrived. He hands you your own bag, and Frank hands you the sweater as you crouch down to stuff the clothes in your bag. “You’re sure about this?” you ask, pulling the Fleetwood Mac cassette out of your back pocket.

“Of course,” Frank answers. “Don’t think of it as a gift. You’ll come back in a few weeks, and we’ll trade.

“We will. And I’ll bring Tess, like I said.”

“Oh,” he continues, glancing over his shoulder at Joel and Bill, who have stopped a good ten feet behind you, “and I had this idea, that we should use codes for the radio. Y’know, just in case someone’s listening. I know you were worried, the first time we talked.”

You nod. “That’s a great idea. What kind of code are you thinking?”

“Music,” he grins. “Sixties, seventies, eighties. We’ve got this book on Billboard hits we could give you. Sixties if there’s nothing new, seventies if we’ve got something new, eighties if there’s trouble.”

“Eighties for trouble,” you repeat, nodding again. “I like that.”

“Good,” Frank says, and you get to your feet. “I gotta say, Liv, I felt good about this before, but now? It’s nice, so nice, to have new friends.” He reaches out, puts his hand on your arm. “And yes, before you try and deny it. That’s what we are.”

You can’t help your grin. “Friends.”

He grins back. “Friends.”

Joel and Bill have been talking the entire time you have, and when you glance back, you see Joel heading toward you, squinting in the sunlight. “Ready?” he asks as he comes to stand beside you, his hand finding the small of your back again, and you nod. He turns to Frank. “Thank you, for the lunch, and for…” He trails off, gesturing to you. “We needed this.”

Joel and Frank shake hands, and after, Frank pulls you into a tight hug, wrapping his arms tight around your shoulders. “See you soon.”

You get back to the QZ late. You’re both exhausted, worn out by the hiking and the sun and the abundance of food. You’re both drooling over the leftovers Bill and Frank sent you home with, and as soon as you’re through the door to the apartment, Joel pulls out one of the containers, and you eat it with your fingers standing over the sink, both of you laughing at the absurdity of your day.

The next morning, Joel goes looking for Tommy.

Unsurprisingly, his brother has skipped out on his job for the umpteenth time, so as soon as morning curfew has passed, Joel heads into the city, and starts combing the buildings he knows are Firefly hideouts. The third building he’s poking around, and he’s stopped by a woman. She seemingly materializes out of the alleyway, arms crossed over her chest, dark hair tied back. She calls him by name, and Joel freezes.

“You won’t find him,” she says, her voice deeper than Joel is anticipating. “Tommy’s not here.”

Joel turns slowly, regards the woman as she steps out of the alley. She’s dressed the same as everybody else is, clothes that have seen better days, boots wrapped with duct tape. “You must be Marlene.”

“Guilty,” she answers.

“Where’s my brother?”

She looks down at the pavement, digs her toe into the asphalt. “Tommy left this morning.”

Joel’s stomach twists. “Left? What d’you mean, left?”

“I stationed him at our base in Minneapolis,” she says, and Joel’s heart stutters. “He left with a few other men this morning.”

His hands clench into fists. “Why the fuck would you do that?”

“I know how you feel about the Fireflies, Joel,” Marlene continues, and the edges of Joel’s vision tinge red. “Tommy told me. And I understand why you would have your…reservations. But your brother just wants to do some good.”

“My brother is a fucking idiot,” Joel spits. “Is that what you told him? That blowing shit up and killing soldiers was good?”

“We’re doing more than that,” Marlene starts, “and Tommy understands that. He knows what he signed up for.”

“Does he?” he replies, and his voice is climbing. There’s a handful of people out on the sidewalks, and some throw glances in his direction. “You turned him against his family. Against his own brother.”

“I didn’t turn him against you, Joel. Tommy made a choice.”

Joel shakes his head. He’s shaking with anger, confusion, fear — every emotion crawled up the back of his throat and making a home there. “That’s a load of shit.”

Marlene digs in her pocket and extends a folded piece of paper toward him. “This is the radio frequency for the base in Minneapolis. Give it a day or two, then try and get through. I know your wife works the radios, she shouldn’t have any problem reaching him.”

He just stares at her, eyes darting between her face and the piece of paper. But finally, the desperation that’s been added to the mix wins out, and he snatches the paper. “If he dies, it’s on you. I’m not responsible for what happens after that.”

“If he dies, I’ll await your wrath, Joel.”

Before he can do anything more, she turns on her heel and disappears, leaving Joel in the alleyway, alone.

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🍓in case tumblr eats the ending🍓

#my fics #strawberry wine #joel miller #joel miller fic #joel miller x you #joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #joel miller fluff #joel miller angst #the last of us #the last of us fic #the last of us spoilers #joel miller x oc #joel miller x liv stone

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gllrimes · 1 year ago

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𝑾𝒆𝒍𝒄𝒐𝒎𝒆 𝒕𝒐 𝑬𝒍𝒊𝒐’𝒔 𝒃𝒍𝒐𝒈!

𝑹𝒖𝒍𝒆𝒔:

I will be writing smut, fluff, comfort, and angst. I'm not experienced with writing as much as other writers are, so don't expect the best.

No sa or rape of any sort because we don't tolerate that.

No piss/shit/fart kinks ya dirty fucks.

No pedophilia. Age gaps only can consist of five years apart in my story's when 18+

No human servitude.

I write for any sexuality and any gender.

I do write drabbles and hcs.

I don't write agere/little space on this blog, I'll set up another blog for that!!

I don't care how old you are I can't stop you from reading my stuff 😕🙏🏻

Requests are open!!

𝑭𝒂𝒏𝒅𝒐𝒎𝒔 & 𝒄𝒉𝒂𝒓𝒂𝒄𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒔 𝑰'𝒍𝒍 𝒘𝒓𝒊𝒕𝒆 𝒇𝒐𝒓

The Walking Dead:

Rick Grimes

Carl Grimes

Daryl Dixon

Negan Smith

Glenn Rhee

Ron Anderson

Enid Rhee

Maggie Rhee

Michonne Grimes

(Bonus: I might write for others too. Maybe Shane idk.)

The End Of The Fucking World:

Alyssa Foley

James (last name unknown)

Heartstopper:

Charlie Spring

Nick Nelson

Tao Xu

Elle Argent

Darcy Olsson

Tara Jones

Sahar Zahid

Issac Henderson

13 Reasons Why:

Clay Jenson

Hannah Baker

Justin Foley

Alex Standall

Jessica Davis

IT:

Bill Denbrough

Richie Tozier

Beverly Marsh

Stanley Uris

Mike Hanlon

Henry Bowers

Patrick Hockstetter

Victor Criss

Belch Huggins

The Flash (IMDb):

Berry Allen

Cisco Ramon

Caitlin Snow

Harry Potter:

Harry Potter

Hermione Granger

Ron Weasley

Fred Weasley

George Weasley

Draco Malfoy

Tom Riddle

James Potter

Remus Lupin

Sirius Black

Mattheo Riddle

Theodore Nott

Regulas Black

Stranger Things:

Mike Wheeler

Will Byers

Jonathan Byers

Nancy Wheeler

Lucas Sinclair

Dustin Henderson

Steve Harrington

Henry Creel

Eleven

Eddie Munson

Criminal Minds:

Spencer Reid

Aaron Hotchner

Derek Morgan

Penelope Garcia

Jennifer Jareau

Twilight:

Bella Swan

Edward Cullen

Jasper Hale

Alice Cullen

Rosalie Hale

Carlisle Cullen

Emmett Cullen

Jacob Black

Seth Clearwater

Esme Cullen

Thirteen:

Tracy Freeland

Evie Zamora

Mason Freeland

Melanie Freeland

Anne With An E:

Gilbert Blythe

Anne Shirley

Dianna Berry

Cole Mackenzie

Jerry Baynard

The Goldfinch:

Theodore Decker (older and younger)

Boris Pavlikovsky (older and younger)

The Turning:

Miles Fairchild

Kate Mandell

Flora Fairchild (NO SMUT)

When You Finish Saving The World:

Ziggy Katz

Lila

American Horror Story:

Tate Langdon

Violet Harmon

Kit Walker

Lana Winters

Zoe Benson

Kyle Spencer

Cordelia Goode

Fiona Goode

Jimmy Darling

James Patrick March

Elizabeth/The Countess

Kai Anderson

Winter Anderson

Ally Mayfair-Richards

Austin Sommers

Mr. Gallant

Edward Mott

Rory Monahan

Shameless:

Fiona Gallagher

Lip Gallagher

Ian Gallagher

Mickey Milkovich

Mandy Milkovich

Carl Gallagher

I Believe In Unicorns:

Davina

Sterling

Tokio Hotel:

Bill Kaulitz

Tom Kaulitz

Georg Listing

Gustav Schäfer

Slashers/Halloween movies characters:

Max Dennison

Billy Loomis

Stu Macher

Sydney Prescott

Bo Sinclair

Lester Sinclair

Vincent Sinclair

Jason Voorhees

Freddy Kruger

Michael Myers

Jason Dean

Patrick Bateman

Brahms Heelshire

BONUS singers/actors/youtubers:

Sam Golbach

Colby Brock

Jake Webber

Albert (flamingo)

The Sturniolo Triplets

Finn Wolfhard

Noah Schnapp

And finally... ALEX TURNER 😋😋 (he's so husband material)

!!PLEASE USE THIS RESPECTFULLY AND WISELY!!

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stargazing-imagines · 1 year ago

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Request form *updated*

Down below is an updated format of the request form!

As of right now, requests are open so send them in!

Main fandom masterlist

Austin and Ally rewrite masterlist

Disney channel boys masterlist

Awae rewrite masterlist

Strike through *no longer doing*

Saved by the bell and The reboot

Zack Morris

Ac Slater

Screech Powers

Mac Morris

Jamie Spano

Beverly Hills 90210

Brandon Walsh

Dylan McKay

David silver

Steve sanders

Anne with an E

Gilbert Blythe

Billy Andrews

Boy meets world

Shawn Hunter

Jack Hunter

Eric Matthews

Girl meets world

Lucas friar

Farkle Minkus

Once upon a time

Peter Pan

Killian Jones *captain hook*

Robin Hood

Henry Mills

The summer I turned pretty

Conrad Fisher

Jeremiah Fisher

Steven Conklin

Titanic

Jack Dawson

Send me either a Dm or a Ask and I’ll get back to you!

My DM’s and Ask box is always open so don’t be shy to ask anything!!

Taglist Form

*This is optional and you do not have to fill it out, this just lets me know who to tag when I write my imagines*

These are rules that will be required if you want your imagines accepted! *I know these are extreme but it is what I’m comfortable with!*

NO SMUT!!! I told in the last post I made and I’m still getting dms and ask repeatedly to do smut, again I’m not doing smut as that is uncomfortable for me to write and I am not experienced in the matter!

No self harm or Sucide imagines! This is something that shouldn’t be joked about so I will not be writing about this, as well as that I find material like this very cringey to write… not offense!

It has to be appropriate or I will not write it! Please do not ask me to write about a couple making out, I like to keep my imagines PG!

Lastly please be patient waiting for you request, my life is hectic and busy so I may not get to your imagines till later!

Down below will be my writing handles’

Episode interactive — Hannah

Wattpad — _hannahwrites_

Writing Insta — hannahwrites__

Updated — July 8th 2023

#updated #updated request form #request are open #saved by the bell #beverly hills 90210 #anne with an e #boy meets world #girl meets world #once upon a time

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yourmateyoya · 2 months ago

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Are they a human, ghoul, synth, or something else?

Human

Are they a canon main character? (Lone Wander, Courier Six, etc.)

She is The Courier. Of course she’s the main character because everyone relies on her to do their dirty work.

What is their SPECIAL

S 6 P6 E 5 C8 I 8 A 5 L9

What perks or tagged skills do they have?

Black widow, bloody mess, intense training, fortune finder,

What is their highest skill? Lowest?

Lowest: Survival

Highest: speech

Were they born pre-war or post-war?

Post war

Do they wish they lived before the war / could go back to life before the war?

She kind of romanticize living in pre-war times.

Did they live in a vault? If not, have they been inside of one?

No she grew up in the ruins of the Texas State fair. But she has been to multiple vaults. She absolutely hates vault 22.

Where did they grow up? Where do they currently reside?

The grew up in the Dallas , specifically the ruins of the state fair. When she was in her early twenties she lived in Austin for a bit. She moved to Nevada after hearing that you can get a lot of work there as a courier.

What languages) do they speak?

English and Spanish

What type of education have they received?

Mostly basic stuff like reading and writing and how to do basic math. But she did need extra help on that stuff due to her learning disabilities.

Can they read, write, and/or do math?

Can read just find trouble reading some really long words or paragraphs. Despite loving to write corny, romance novels she has a lot of trouble spelling. Is actually really good at math.

What is the most frightening experience they have endured?

Going to quarry junction.

What is their fondest memory?

Reactivating Ed-d.

What is their proudest moment / accomplishment?

Killing a mother and alpha Deathclaw with Arcade and Ed-d.

What is their biggest regrets

Not being able to save Gabe

Do they have a job? How do they make a living?

Most Courier work but the occasional job here and there.

Do they have any disabilities, mutations, or implants / enhancements? Do they have any chronic illnesses?

Autism and dyslexia

Who (or what) are they emotionally closest to?

Benny and their daughter.

Who do they consider to be their family?

Benny, Ed-d, and her and Benny's daughter.

Do they travel alone or with a companion?

Is constantly traveling with Ed-d. Also travels around a lot with Arcade.

Do they have any pets?

Roxie

How do they feel about physical touch / affection?

She loves to cuddle especially with Benny and Ed-d.

Do they have a romantic partner or partners?

Her dearest Benny!

Are they quick to trust others?

Can be too quick to trust people especially if they’re nice to her.

How would others describe them / their disposition?

Some people describe her as Marilyn Monroe’s reincarnation. Others describe her as a kind but an oblivious person at times.

What faction(s) are they a member of / allied with?

Vages, the Great Khans, The Followers, And formally the NCR.

What faction(s) do they despise?

The legion.

What is their moral alignment / karma?

Very good

What is their goal in life? What impact would they like to leave when they're gone?

Help as much people as they possibly can.

What is their go-to weapon or weapon class?

Q-35 matter modulator.

What is their fight-or-flight response

Not very good at dodging bullets so fight!

What armor / clothing do they typically wear?

She wears her NCR ranger uniform but usually on the strip she wear spring time outfit along with her good luck bonnet.

Do they have power armor training?

Still getting trained.

Have they ever saved someone's life? Have they ever killed someone?

Kills in self defense and saved Benny from the Legion.

What is the worst injury they have?

A concussion from a missile on Black MT.

What is their favorite radio station?

Radio New Vegas.

What is their favorite song?

🎶 MAD ABOUT THE BOOOYYY🎶

What is their favorite type of weather?

Nice cold rain.

What is their favorite time of the day?

Night Time so she can see all the stars.

What is their favorite wasteland creature?

Despite her killing multiple of them, Deathclaws and also big horns as well.

What is their favorite meal and drink?

Sunset sarsaparilla and Fancy lad cake snacks

What is their favorite smell?

Wet dirt

Do they have any specific hobbies or talents?

Writing and singing are her hobbies.

Do they play any sports? How about board games or card games?

can’t play caravan to save her life.

Do they enjoy reading?

Doesn’t read that much.

Do they collect anything?

Teddy bears and toy rocket ship!

What items) do they always have on their person?

A teddy bear.

Do they travel by foot or by other means?

travel by foot terrible at driving

Do they own a Pip-boy? If so, how did they get it?

Can they swim?

Yes they can and she loves to swim.

What do they think of the ocean?

taste very salty.

Do they prefer showers or baths

Warm bath with lavender bubbles

Are they past, present, or future oriented?

She’s always worried about the future. especially her own daughters future.

How do they feel about robots? (Eyebots, Mister Handys, Sentry Bots, etc.)

Love those silly little guys.

What is a sensation / texture they cannot stand?

Sand it's coarse and rough and irritating and it gets everywhere.

Do they believe in luck? Do they have a good luck charm?

Some believe in luck and think her bonnet is a type of charm.

Do they idolize anything / anyone?

She idolizes someone by the name of the chosen one. has no idea who they are, but thinks they’re cool.

Are they religious? Spiritual?

Grew up in Texas, so there are a lot of religious people around. But never really believed in religion.

What are their thoughts on chems and alcohol?

Got addicted to alcohol once. Is very scared to use them.

Do they have any weaknesses or struggle with any vices?

Trying to get missions done can be a pain in the ass for them.

Do they need / wear glasses?

Wears Sun glasses.

How / where do they generally sleep?

basically, anything with a mattress.

Describe their living space. (How do they decorate it? Does it have running water and/or electricity? Etc.)

lives with Benny at the Tops casino. Has a lot of stuffed animals around.

Describe their eyes.

Dirty brown

#fallout #fallout new vegas #oc #the courier

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formleadsfunction · 5 months ago

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f@tt Sangfielle ep. 28 relistening post

(aka my own personal greatest hits)

Miss Pickman I'd end it all for you

"I mean we could just-- We don't do this very often on this show-- We could just jump him!"

"Pickman has like..nothing. Pickman's living in a different game than any of y'all."

Jack rolling a 2......

"Plan..E?" "Plan F."

"When an ally within an arm's reach--When an Ali :)"

"Do capybaras have claws?? :0" please NEVER learn Anything about Any animal <3

the fallout that makes the next action dangerous but it can be reduced to risky or even standard with "a decent plan" I love when game devs are like "there Will be gms who desperately wish to shake their players and tell them to think things thru for just a minute"

"Maybe I can try and curse him!"

lil droplets of blood riding the shape...... 🥰

"For some reason I feel like I should try to acquire a bomb." help this is so funny... Lyke on the other end of this desperately trying to sell some dynamite without success

Austin messaging Keith abt Lyke's TNT 😭

Es and Lyke's relationship is so cool actually :)

#*#text #shoop.lb

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headmate-packages · 3 months ago

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Source White/Blacklist

Always being worked on

Also please note that things listed on the lists can be listed for a multitude of reasons from "this triggers me" to "I dont like it right now" or "I love this thing" to "I'm burnt out on it" things can appear or disappear from any list at any moment

Blacklist: Any 18+ media (with some specifics mentioned below but any) Any Vivziepop Work Sausage Party Z-O-M-B-I-E-S Anything relating to school shooters including Zero Day The Coffin of Andy and LeyLey Zootopia Ticci Toby Miles Morales Austin Moon/Ross Lynch

Whitelist: Those starred(*) we never finished, but we enjoyed what we saw, or the concept/idea of

Those with exclamations (!) are very important interests of hours

Stamp Sale Angels of Death ! Monster High* My Little Pony (G4/Friendship is Magic)* Austin & Ally ! R5 ! FNF Shakespeare works * The Wind in The Willows (West-end musical specifically) Pico's School Vocaloid (tho we don't know a lot about them) South Park* Adamandi !!

Mixups:

^ Mixup sources are things that from what I see, seem to be really popular, but that don't interest me personally. The mixup list is to let you know that while this source isn't blacklisted, I'm not very interested in it, and I will deliberately go off canon to create this member (which might be kinda fun)

Project Sekai Genshin Impact The Amazing Digital Circus Most (maybe even all) Roblox games

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dijiimg · 11 months ago

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Hello guys, so I have an account on tiktok with imagines, the name is: diji._

I decided that I would accept your requests here and create longer stories. I can write for y/n and h/n, but I can also accept requests from these series and movies (of course, if you have a request for another series, etc., I will try to watch it and create something great especially for you!)

SERIES THAT I WILL WRITE ABOUT:

Stranger things

Sweet home

Alice in borderland

All of us are dead

Anne with an E

Outer banks

Squid game

Julie and the phantoms

The society

My holo love

Once upon a small town

The soundtrack od magic

My first first love

My name

Cobra kai

The umbrella academy

Saga winx

Never have I ever

Vicenzo

Insatiable

Glimore girls

American horror story

Austin and ally

MOVIES THAT I WILL WRITE ABOUT:

Marvel (each part)

Scream 1/6

#alive

Unlocked

Twilight

The kissing booth

Mamma mia!

He's all that

Let it snow

To all the boys i've loved before

Thought my window

20th century girl

Chucky

The fear street

Haloween

Miss peregrine's home for peculiar children

High school musical

Descendants

Z-O-M-B-I-E-S

The maze runner

Avatar

the photos in this post are from pinterest <3

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goldenyour · 4 months ago

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ALLY FILHA DA PUTAAAAAAA 🖕🖕🖕🖕 DESCOBRIU QUE O AUSTIN GOSTAVA DE VC E NAO BEIJOU ELE PLMDS

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leoisbabygirl · 1 year ago

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New info about my oc's:

Lab Rats oc's: Brinarette "Brina" Parker-Davenport, Harvest "Harvey" Spellman, Eliana "Ellie" Jones, Bradley "Brady" Aqua Aster, Presley "Press" Perry, Tyrell Krane, Jane Krane, Steve/Rusty Krane. Main four are face claimed as follows: Meg Donnelly, Ross Lynch, Carla Jeffery, and Trevor Tordjman

FNaF: SB oc's: Starlet "Star" Afton aka Ssstar-Ssshine (Ella Anderson)

Z-O-M-B-I-E-S oc's: Allison Wells (Dove Cameron)

Austin & Ally oc's: Adrian Dawson (Mitchell Hope), Abbott Moon (Kathryn Newton)

Trailer Park Boys oc's: Bella "Bubs" (Lindsey Lohan), Carrie (Amanda Seyfried), Eva (Meghan Fox), Rusty MacDougall (Billy Unger)

Luigi's Mansion oc's: Emily Gadd (Joey King), Nirvana "Dry-Bones" Toad (Milo Manhiem)

Never Have I Ever oc's: Elisé Blanchét (new name I just picked out bc I couldn't remember her other name) (Peyton List)

Spider-Man oc's: Keira Tori-Brown aka Spider-Wolf (Madison Reyes)

Barbie the movie oc: Serena "Barbie" Shopper (Madelaine Petsch)

Undertale oc's: Astoria Dreemurr, Frankie the human

Scream franchise oc: Saint Hallows (Camila Mendes)

Hazbin Hotel oc: Chrissy (Renee Rapp)

Trolls oc: O-Pop (Olivia Rodrigo)

Lisa Frankenstein oc: Max Swallows (Amanda Seyfried)

Descendants oc: Perry Pan

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blahblahblees · 9 months ago

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ヽ｀、☁ヽ｀─── CINDY LOU WHO aka MY WORKS ON WATTPAD

this includes all of my fanfic on wattpad! the majority of my fanfics are female led original characters unless stated otherwise. these fics are either ongoing, fully completed, completed until that season returns, or are in a undecided phase!

𓂃 ONGOING ON OXANGEJUICE

already over — cole walter (my life with the walter boys)

teenage dream — maya hart (girl meets world)

eldest daughter — percy jackson’s sister (pjotv)

𓂃 COMPLETED UNTIL SEASON…ON OXANGEJUICE

bad for business — zed necrodopolis (z-o-m-b-i-e-s)

delicate — robby keene (cobra kai)

misery business — jordan li (gen v)

glimpse of us — conrad & jeremiah fisher (the summer i turned pretty)

this side of paradise — wally clark (school spirits)

alright — jay kelso & nate runck (that 90s show)

𓂃 COMPLETED ON OXANGEJUICE

looking at me — jack brewer (kickin’ it)

womanizer — zack martin (suite life on deck)

just wanna be with you — luke patterson (julie and the phantoms)

name game — kendall knight (big time rush)

the love club — ricky bowen (high school musical: the musical: the series)

feel something — joshua bassett (irl)

long story short — freddie benson book 1 (icarly)

back to you — freddie benson book 2 (icarly)

lollie — lucas friar (girl meets world)

nasa — austin moon (austin & ally)

my song for you — ricky bowen book 1 (hsmtmts)

lover — ricky bowen book 2 (hsmtmts)

golden — carlos de vil (descendants)

boyfriend — ben gross (never have i ever)

call out my name — harry bingham (the society)

are you bored yet — rodrick heffley (diary of a wimpy kid)

𓂃 UNDECIDED ON OXANGEJUICE

you belong with me — lucas friar (girl meets world)

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elvisabutler · 1 year ago

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it ain't stealin' if ya sharin'

fandom: elvis 2022 | elvis presley | austin butler rating: m pairing: dacre! steve binder x gender neutral reader x austin! elvis presley. steve binder x gender neutral reader. a tiny bit of steve binder x elvis presley word count: 2940 warnings: infidelity on elvis's part. p in v sex ( unprotected ). voyeurism mentioned. switch elvis. switch everyone tbh. spitroasting. lube is mentioned. minor praise kink maybe. choking with ascots. mild cock drunkenness. use of the nickname stevie. use of the nicknames babe and darlin' in place of y/n. no use of y/n. author’s note: welcome to day 8 of ally’s wet hot smut summer, threesome with steve binder x reader x elvis presley. this is a continuation of ride it, my pony you don't have to read it for this to make sense but it helps. and if you want to think of it this way, the day one fic with the cuckolding and this are two branches of the same tree. this is done specifically for @blurredcolour because she asked and i am a good friend. i know it says austin elvis and all that jazz but it's because she asked for that specifically but y'all know my drill. imagine who you'd like.

"You want to do what?" You ask, your eyebrows practically attaching themselves to your hairline. "Because I don't think I heard you right."

For what it's worth, Steve has the decency to look chagrined, has the decency to look away and act as if he briefly has no idea what both him and Elvis have suggested to you before realizing that you of all the people see right through him. He opens his mouth to speak before Elvis intervenes.

"I think ya heard us just fine. Jus' think ya don't think we're bein' serious. Think I'm jus' pullin' ya leg, don't ya?"

Steve watches several emotions flutter over your face and find that's perhaps he should step in. There's an undercurrent of aggravation he recognizes too well and it worries him. You're his partner, the love of his life if he's being honest and the last thing he wants to do is to put you in a spot where you feel you're being mocked or played with in any sort of way.

"What EP is trying to say is that— it might be beneficial for all of us to just once have sex together." Steve's words are a little stilted and you can't help but smile with a bit of fondness. Normally he has no problem talking about sex, especially with you and yet in trying to broach this topic in a way that has far more tact than Elvis is choosing to employ he has managed to somewhat trip himself up with his own words. "We'd be focusing more on you, I think, but we've— EP's—"

"I've been wanting to see what's so special 'bout ya that you got Steve here wrapped around ya finger." Elvis explains with that smile of his that charms even the most callous of people and you are not a callous person. No, you— much like your boyfriend can respect and admire just how attractive Elvis is from his personality to those eyes that pin you in place and that body that can do the same exact thing. Your tongue darts out to wet your lips and you watch as his eyes follow your tongue.

"And if I told you there's nothing special but an enjoyment of playing with ascots?" The words are teasing but Steve smirks just a little knowing exactly where you're going with this. It's funny, you always have been good at reading people.

Elvis's pupils expand just a bit and you hear a hitch in his breathing that makes you almost want to laugh. Instead you share a look with Steve that looks downright sinister. Steve remembers a day or two ago where you were grinding on his thigh, practically choking him with his ascot and how he had joked about you needing to choke Elvis and perhaps it had been a bit of a prediction, not that he knew it at the time.

"Playing with, that's not quite what they do, E. They can hold it so tight when you're in them. Practically choke you if you want." Steve looks at you before eyeing Elvis up and down. "You heard the joke I made, didn't you? We've been hearing you and watching you perform for the past few days. Maybe you'd—"

"Steve." Both you and Elvis practically groan out his name partially in warning but partially to allow the image he's starting to paint to sit inside both of your minds. You can see it clear as day. Elvis panting and grunting as he chases pleasure you're bringing him with Steve. Elvis cooing sweet nothings or muttering pure filth in your ear as he has you reaching heights you never have before. Between your legs you feel your most intimate parts pulsating. Your arousal starts to form and curl in your lower abdomen and you can't help but stare at Elvis as it does.

"You really want this, don't you?" You try and tease even if it's undercut by how your own voice wavers just that little bit. "You want us to let you have the pleasure of being a part of what we do? Make it so you're not jerking off to me in the dark corner of a room?"

Elvis's face flushes and you finally let out a laugh before Steve comes to stand next to you. "I told you that they'd be fine with it, Elvis. Even if I didn't know how to explain it."

"Because you're a possessive man. You're worried they're gonna leave ya if I show 'em a good time. Ain't that right?" Elvis turns to look at you. "You said it yourself, ya like me more."

It's then that your hand moves out to grasp the ascot tied around Elvis's neck, fingering the red silk before yanking it forward, watching as Elvis sputters and coughs from the sudden shift in his oxygen intake. "Not what I said. But he is pretty possessive. He's not the only one. Maybe I won't want to give you up. Ask Priscilla for visiting rights with me and Steve."

Both you and Steve watch as Elvis's Adam's apple bobs as he swallowed thickly, words failing him until he manages something quiet. "Don't need her permission."

Steve and you share a look before holding out a hand for Elvis from each of you. Steve manages to speak first. "You've been doing good enough while filming. Let's enjoy the treat we want to give you. The one I want you to give them. Make up for how long I've been working day in and day out."

The thing is, you know better than to do something like this at Steve's work. It's tempting, to be sure, and there's a couch that could fit the three of you with a surprising amount of ease but for situations like this and for discretion a bed is what's truly needed. It's easy enough for Elvis to say something about late filming and it's easy enough for you and Steve to for once in this whole thing to be home together at a sensible time. All those things are easy enough and yet somehow seeing Elvis at the door to your house puts things into a strange surreal perspective. That perspective is only heightened the moment the door to your house shuts and Elvis pulls you into a kiss that threatens to take your very soul from your body. It's all consuming, plush lips that press against yours and a tongue that finds its way in between your lips, deepening the kiss with a ease you have to marvel at in the moment. Your teeth dig into his lower lip, a warning and a promise of more to come that has him pressing you against the wall and has his hand fiddling with the button on your jeans.

Your hands move on top of his, taking in how tense they are, how determined he is to get both of you naked to some degree and you smile against his lips even as you pull away. "Not in the hallway. Steve's already in bed. Come on."

Elvis doesn't waste a minute following you, his hands gravitating to your hips and pressing his arousal against your ass. You can't help but grind backwards even as you walk, earning a groan from Elvis. His lips move to nip and bite at your neck, murmuring against your skin. "Goddammit. Should've known you'd be doing that even if you weren't in my lap. You do this to Stevie? Tease him like this before you get into bed?"

A low hum is the only answer you give even as Elvis's hand moves to undo your buttons and finally manages to get his hand between your legs, cupping the part of you that wants him and your boyfriend so badly it threatens to overwhelm you. You hear him practically growling against your ear as you finally reach your bedroom. "That's all for me? Figured ya were needy from how ya were on his thigh but— darlin' this is somethin' else."

Steve manages to look over at the two of you, naked except for his underwear and his ascot— your specific request— at that exact time. His eyes take in the picture you and Elvis paint. The picture of Elvis coming undone just from touching between your legs, panting behind you and practically dry humping you. The picture of your jeans partially undone with Elvis cupping between your legs, touching what Steve had told him was only his. He's not worried about Elvis stealing you because can you steal something if you're sharing it? His pupils dilate, taking over the entirety of his iris as he moves over to you. Elvis looks over at Steve and waits for the other man to make a move before he shrugs and pulls him into a small kiss that you can watch. A whimper leaves your lips as you buck against Elvis's hand. When they pull apart, their eyes flit to you and how your hips move of their own violation. Steve speaks first, teasing in a way only he can.

"Thought we were supposed to make him beg, babe? You just want to have both of us focusing on you, don't you? You've been so patient with me. Been so patient with how hard he's been working for me and with me. You deserve this."

Your mouth opens to speak only to be cut off with another kiss from Elvis and his hand starting to pull away from between your legs. "This is just all of us sharin', ain't it? Now get on the bed, baby. We're gonna take care of ya so fuckin' well."

A noise that sounds like a whimper leaves your lips and you hear both Elvis and Steve chuckle as Elvis's hands move to your hips to pull down your pants and Steve's hands busy themselves with the buttons of your shirt. It's a marvel none of you trip over the other's feet and a marvel you don't have your eyes roll into the back of your head as you hear praise from both of them about how you're so patient and good and you can be needy right now. They've got you.

Your bed feels different in this moment, with the weight of three people instead of two on it and you inadvertently cant your hips up in the air because it. Elvis's hands on your hips tighten in an effort to get you to stay still only for you to arch more, whining as you do.

"Don't— Don't tease. Want— Don't want to wait." The words tumble out of your mouth as you feel Steve sucking and nipping at your pulse point, his hands moving across your chest and your whole torso. "Need—"

Steve shushes you with a finger to your lips, "we can see, babe. We can see how much you need us. We've got you. Elvis's got the lube, babe. Gonna make it easy to slide in."

You hear the words Steve speaks but don't quite realize until you feel your underwear finally being pulled off entirely with Elvis's hands running ever so slowly down your hips and thighs only to move right back up them. Your legs fall open, giving him the view of your most intimate parts that only Steve gets to see and you feel Elvis shift and rut against the bed for a moment before he takes his cock in hand, pulling his foreskin back. It's as if your eyes are glued to his cock, even as Steve gives attention to every other part of you, his lips covering your neck in kisses, biting your lips red. One of your hands moves to pull down Steve's underwear and moves up and down his cock, marveling in how much precum is already there. It lets your hand glide across the skin of his cock and you almost wish you could taste it right now. A bit of drool escapes your lips at the idea and Elvis notices.

"Steve. Stevie. Think— I think they wanna be in the middle all proper. Cock at the top and the bottom." As if to punctuate the point one of his hands moves to cup your cheek and his thumb brushes against your lips, a smirk forming on his face. "Ain't that right, yittle."

A choked off groan leaves your lips as your tongue chases after his thumb and the word yittle bounces around your head. You're not that much younger than Steve and yet Elvis calling you that sends a rush through your body and has you trying to move to do just that. Only both Steve and Elvis's hands stop you. You start to argue and beg and plead only to have Steve move to sit on the bed properly so that you can do what you want. So you can have his cock in your mouth, so you can have the taste of his cum roll down your throat as Elvis thrusts into you. Steve's hand moves to stroke your cheek as he looks down at you with the sort of love that makes your heart threaten to burst inside you. That look is why you're willing to do this, why you're willing to share yourself and him with Elvis. This man loves you and he'd do anything for you and he wouldn't do this if he didn't want to or if you didn't.

He doesn't speak but he does mouth love you as he pushes his cock in between your open lips and lets out a groan of pleasure at how your lips tighten around him. Elvis doesn't enter you immediately afterward, choosing to play with himself just a bit as he watches Steve's cock slide in between your lips, stretching them around it. Maybe if the three of you ever did anything like this again he could— he could have those lips around his, your tongue playing with his foreskin just a little. The image of you doing that playing in his head spurs him into action finally, making sure he's got enough lubrication for you to be able to enjoy this. Making sure you can take his cock inside you. He starts off slow, his cock entering you bit by bit, savoring the way your body shakes and savoring the noises he hears you making around Steve's cock. The other man can't hold back his own noises as he puts his hand on the back of your head, trying to push you down more, wanting more of your mouth. It takes a moment to find a rhythm once he's fully seated inside you but after a bit, it happens. Elvis thrusts into you, cursing at how tight you feel around his cock, telling you he understands now, understands the spell you've got Steve under.

"The hell ya spendin' so much time wit' me when ya got this at home, Binder? Fuckin' Christ, yittle. Gonna— I ain't gonna last. Fuckin'— Gonna make me cum like 'm a fuckin' teenager." Elvis slurs out the words, his accent thickening the more he thrusts into you, his fingers gripping your hips with a strength you knew he had but is invigorating to be on the receiving end of. As you push back against him he lets out a soft laugh and one of his hands move between your legs, touching where you need to be touched so that you can cum just the same as the two of them. "That's it, I gotcha. Steve's a little busy, but I got ya. Cum for us, make a mess that we gotta clean up."

That coil inside you, the one sitting low in your abdomen that's so wound up you could scream finally feels like it's starting to snap. You don't want to cum first though, you want Steve to cum down your throat before you do. Thankfully you know how to do that, know how to get him to do it and though it makes you a little unbalanced you move to grab at his ascot and yank it ever so softly but it's enough have Steve breathlessly cursing as you feel his cum fill your throat. A litany of praise and declarations of love leaves his mouth as you start to swallow only slightly choking. Your own orgasm hits you with a certain movement of Elvis's hand and despite your best efforts you can feel Steve's cum slide out of your mouth, dribbling ever so slightly. Elvis's thrusts are getting rougher and less controlled and you want to pull your mouth off of Steve to say something only to feel Steve yank Elvis forward by his ascot in for another kiss and a murmured request.

"Let yourself go, E."

As if it was an order you feel Elvis cum inside you and hear the muttered curse as he does. He hadn't meant to but as he pulls out and sees it dripping from you, he can't complain. The three of you are breathless and silent in the afterglow as you all flop onto the bed, arms and legs tangled just so in a way that feels oddly right. After a moment you finally speak.

"If that's what I get for letting Steve work with you till all hours. You— you can work all night and all day," you whisper, looking a little shell-shocked as you pull on Elvis's ascot to get a kiss. "Can— can we do that again? Reversed?"

Steve and Elvis share a look over your head before shrugging. "Better than filming all night. And I think we need to properly share."

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