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hooked-on-elvis · 14 days

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"If You Don't Come Back" (1973)

Recorded July 21, 1973 at Stax Studios, Memphis · Released on October 1, 1973 · Album: Raised On Rock

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MUSICIANS Guitar: James Burton, Reggie Young, Charlie Hodge. Bass: Tommy Cogbill. Drums: Ronnie Tutt, Jerry Carrigan. Piano: Bobby Wood. Organ: Bobby Emmons. Vocals: Kathy Westmoreland, Mary (Jeannie) Greene, Mary Holladay, Ginger Holladay, J.D. Sumner & The Stamps. OVERDUBS Guitar: Dennis Linde

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"If You Don't Come Back" — LYRICS Songwriters: Jerry Leiber/Mike Stoller (Woke up early in the morning) (What did the poor boy find) Well the car was gone and you were gone And I almost lost my mind If you don't come back (if you don't come back) Hum, if you don't come back today (if you don't come back today) You can call up the people at the crazy house And take this crazy man away (He threw himself off a gas stone wall) (He tore his clothes out the door) I ran out on the street in my stocking feet Tell the police I've been robbed If you don't come back (if you don't come back) Hum, if you don't come back today (if you don't come back today) Well you can call up the people at the crazy house And take this crazy man away Mrs. Brown's been talking about me To the people across the street She said (I cooked that boy a pot full of stew, But the poor thing just won't eat) If you don't come back (if you don't come back) Hum, if you don't come back today (if you don't come back today) You can call up the people at the crazy house And take this crazy man away

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RECORDING SESSION Studio Sessions for RCA. July 20–25 1973: Stax Studios, Memphis On that first night Elvis left the studio after four hours, having recorded absolutely nothing. He arrived late again on the following night, his speech so slurred that he seemed scarcely awake. The sound of his voice on the session tapes makes it painfully evident that he had little interest in recording at all. Freddy Bienstock began by presenting a Leiber and Stoller number, “If You Don’t Come Back,” which he had secured under the new publishing arrangement, and Elvis barely managed to drag himself through five indistinguishable takes before Felton called him in to listen to the results. In the end the ninth take became the sorry-sounding master, devoid of anything like fire or enthusiasm. Excerpt: "Elvis Presley, A Life in Music: The Complete Recording Sessions" by Ernst Jorgensen. Foreword by Peter Guralnick (1998)

Elvis Presley at Stax Studios in Memphis, July 1973.

In order to understand better what was going on in Elvis' life at the time the first Stax recording session was held in July 1973, let's get some facts on his life during that year.

1973 RECORDING SESSIONS (BACKGROUND STORY)

The Aloha From Hawaii concert (January 1973) demanded a lot of energy from Elvis. Once it was over he was very tired due to all the months of preparation for this huge concert to which, for example, he went through an extremely restrictive diet to get in a good shape and, to make matters worse, couldn't get enough rest at night either; but things would get even worse in the following months with a very busy schedule ahead.

Following the Aloha From Hawaii was a four-weeks engagement at the Hilton Hotel in Las Vegas (January 26 - February 23, 1973), to which Elvis missed several performances due to a bad case of laryngitis (he wasn't even supposed to be working, according to doctor's orders). After the Vegas engagement Elvis had a mini tour in April (April 22 - April 30, 1973) when he performed in Arizona, California, Oregon, Washington and Colorado. Not enough, Elvis then had a two-weeks engagement scheduled at the Sahara Tahoe Hotel, Las Vegas (May 4th - May 20th 1973), to which some dates also had their concerts cancelled, allegedly due to the flu and a chest infection, and back on the road once more another mini-tour followed (June 20th - July 3rd 1973), with Elvis visiting cities in Alabama, Georgia, New York, Pennsylvania, Ohio, Missouri, Tennessee, and Oklahoma. Other than demanding a lot of him physically at a moment his health was as delicate as it was, those concerts ended up being emotionally tiring for Elvis as well. Some of those concerts were highly criticized by the press, highlighting that, for example, Elvis had gained thirty pounds, looked puffy and white-faced, besides he was blinking against the stage lights during the shows (due to secondary glaucoma to which he had been diagnosed in March, 1971) and on top of that, the worst for the audience, his voice sounded weak and his performance lacked in enthusiasm. It wasn't the Elvis Presley everyone knew, loved and praised, and knowing about all that criticism must have felt disappointing to Elvis himself.

The origin for all those health problems, apart from physical exhaustion caused by pre-diagnosed health conditions, adding to unhealthy eating habits and not enough rest, was also emotional. Elvis' personal life was not in the best fitting. He was dating Linda Thompson since mid-1972 but in 1973 he was still dealing with the divorce procedures with Priscilla; the heartbreaking part of it all, what could've been affecting Elvis' mind the most, was worrying about what the divorce would cause to his daughter, Lisa. That can be supposed by a bad reaction to a song Elvis would cut at the Stax, "My Boy"; He showed his feelings about that song telling Felton Jarvis that he wanted it to be done in two takes tops. When asked to sing the song for the third time Elvis snapped at Felton (record producer), "I told you to get this goddamn thing in two takes. I can’t sing it no more." Elvis' divorce with Priscilla was only final on October 9, 1974.

As evident, Elvis was dealing with a lot in 1973. His choice of city for a recording session at that time was Memphis because he wasn't feeling specially excited with cutting records at that moment, let alone travelling to get to a studio in another city. The American Sound Studio's producer, Chips Moman, who had worked with Elvis in 1969, was no longer in Memphis, so the Stax and its crew was a fairly good alternative to them. The initial Stax recording session ended up being disappointing- with only seven songs getting a master approved to be released on the next album. With the lack of sufficient material for a new album after the July recording session at Stax, RCA managed to get their mobile-recording truck at Elvis' property for a home recording session at Elvis' home in Palm Spring (September 22-23, 1973) because Elvis was hesitating in going back to the studio one more time. The album Raised on Rock was finished after that home recording session, and it was released the following month (October 1973), but proved to be a failure in sales.

By December 1973 Elvis seemed to be feeling good again, at least good enough to go back to the studio for another recording session at Stax. He was in a better place physically and mentally by then. But as for the first recording session at Stax, that's the background story... things didn't worked that smoothly in that studio at first.

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FURTHER INFO Vegas 1973 engagements (cancelled concerts)

LAS VEGAS HILTON — January 26 - February 23

Elvis was supposed to perform two concerts per night — a Dinner concert at 8:15pm and a Midnight concert at 12:00am) — with an exception for the opening night, with only one evening performance. From January 26 to February 23, 1973 for that Vegas engagement at the Hilton, Elvis performed every single night but the January 31st, with both concerts being cancelled. The other cancelled concerts were exclusively the Midnight concerts, with Elvis performing the dinner concert in those dates. The days the Midnight concert was cancelled were: February 1, February 6 and 7; February 13, 14 and 15.

SAHARA TAHOE — May 4th - May 20th 1973 (ended up sooner, on May 16th)

As for the Sahara Tahoe Hotel engagement (May 4th - May 20th 1973), the agreement was similar in schedule as for the shows at the Hilton — Dinner (in Sahara Tahoe at 10:00pm instead of 8:15pm) and Midnight (12:00am), with the opening night having one evening concert only. On that engagement there was also an additional show ("Mother’s Day" concert) at 3:00am on May 13, apart from the Dinner and Midnight usual concerts prior to this one (which was a benefit concert; the proceeds would go to Lake Tahoe’s Barton Memorial Hospital where Elvis' mother Gladys had once undergone surgery). From a two-weeks engagement, both concerts from May 17 to 20th, 1973 had to be cancelled (eight concerts).

Source: elvisconcerts.com, elvisinfonet.com, graceland.com; "Elvis Presley, A Life in Music: The Complete Recording Sessions" by Ernst Jorgensen.

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chelseeebe · 2 months

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just a taste

18+. mdni. smut. kinda perv!eddie x fem!reader. he is a lil freaky in this i'll admit.

a/n: i just love the idea of the citrus six all living together lol idk i think it’s so nice also i have never watched cheers i just googled 1991 american tv shows and picked one at random LMAO ++ for the movie, i thought it’d be a nice lil easter egg for them to watch something with winona in:,)

✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ:

eddie doesn’t know who you are or why you’re coming to visit or why exactly it was him that was being made to vacate his room for the two weeks that you were here.

“c’mon eddie,” robin pleads, nay, demands, “you sleep on the couch most nights anyway, what’s the difference?”

“uh, maybe because it’s my room? i don’t want some random girl in there touching my stuff,” almost flabbergasted that she’s even asking.

“she’s not a random girl,” robin frowns, “she’s my friend and she needs somewhere to stay.”

“tell her there’s a great hotel in town,” rolling his eyes, trying to leave the conversation before she breaks out the puppy dog eyes. "i'll even give her a ride if you ask nicely," no longer interested in entertaining this conversation.

“i’ll give you fifty bucks,” robin deadpans, using her last resort.

this was bribery of the highest order but eddie's not stupid. fifty bucks is fifty bucks.

“now?”

she sighs, sliding her wallet from her pocket to reluctantly hand over the bill. she stops just before it touches his palm, “promise you’ll clean your room.”

eddie goes to grab the paper but robin’s faster, jolting her hand into the air, “and change your sheets.”

“okay,” he huffs, holding his palm outstretched.

she graciously places the note down, smiling wickedly as she does so before skipping off back to her own room.

he can only roll his eyes, turning around to the shit hole that was his room, wondering if fifty dollars was worth having to tackle it.

eddie’s sat on the couch when you arrive, barely looking back as robin begins to fuss, talking loudly about your journey. he doesn’t really care enough to involve himself, besides, elvis presley had just given sam a very important message.

“eddie,” robin hisses, standing in front of the screen, “don’t be rude, say hello,” her hands firmly on her hips like she was his mother or something.

he looks up at the looming figure by the couch, hoping his eyes hadn’t given his immediate shock away too much.

you flash him a sheepish smile back, waggling your fingers in a short wave.

two weeks on the couch didn’t seem so bad now.

not if you were sleeping in his bed.

it’s just a shame that he wouldn’t be in there sharing it.

“hey,” he stands, hoping to indiscreetly catch his breath, “i’m- uh, i’m eddie,” offering his hand out, though he regrets it as soon as it’s done.

who shakes hands now? christ. he needed to get a grip, and badly.

“hey,” you reply, your name dripping from your tongue. though you do shake his hand, not bothering to hide your confusion in the process.

“eddie very kindly said you could have his room,” a bright, big sarcastic smile on her lips.

“yeah.. no biggie..” christ, he’s almost panting. “do whatever you want in there.. or you know, just- just make yourself at home.”

his desperate pleas for the earth to split open and swallow him whole go unanswered. instead, robin shoots him a concerned glare before ushering you away from his weird, longing gaze.

'pull it together loser' she mouths before disappearing, leaving him to reflect upon how utterly hard he had just fumbled that entire situation.

when everyone’s home from work and you’ve exchanged niceties and greetings with the rest of the house, robin brightly suggests a movie.

eddie usually hated movie nights in the house.

jonathan would want to watch some indie cult classic that no one else had ever heard of, steve wanted to watch some dumb comedy that only he’d find funny and then nancy and robin typically opted for the romance genre.

leaving eddie and argyle with absolutely no choice but to sit in silence as they bickered.

tonight it’s different, you get to pick.

and now he’s not saying that whatever you choose will forever change the way he views you but.. well, that’s actually exactly it.

you land on edward scissorhands.

not the worst choice you could’ve made, and hey, his mom used to call him edward when he was in real bad trouble.

in the end, it doesn’t really matter what you had picked because eddie can’t muster up enough energy to actually care about the film. not while your thighs are peeking out from underneath your oversized shirt. he can’t help but wonder what they’d feel like wrapped around his ears. what previous sounds would fall out of your mouth in response.

at some point during the movie, you stand up and walk out of the room to the kitchen but that doesn’t stop him. staring through the open door, marvelling at the way the hem of your shirt lifts, exposing the tiny shorts you had on underneath.

he’s practically hanging over the back of the couch to get a look, craning his neck at a ninety degree angle just to get a glimpse of your soft, pillowy skin. pinching himself as he tries to resist the urge to just sink his teeth into your inner thigh.

robin jabs her elbow into his ribcage, drawing his eyes back to the room with a grunt and a harsh glare thrown her way.

“you’ve been staring at her all night,” she whispers angrily into his ear, “stop it, or next time it’s your balls,” a harsh warning he didn’t find entirely necessary.

you sidle back into the room, drink in hand and eddie can’t help but let his eyes wander over again, short glances that robin hopefully wouldn’t pick up on.

he can’t help it, some magnetic force swaying his gaze in your direction. he wishes so badly that he could just crawl out of his head and tell you how much he wanted you.

unfortunately for eddie, he’d instead spend the night dreaming of your ass and all the ways he could have you if he’d only grow a backbone.

living alongside you is an entirely new feat eddie’s not sure he’ll survive.

it’s torturous.

testing the limits of how ridiculously horny one man can get without self-imploding.

so close and yet so far. each night you’d tuck yourself into his bed, doing god knows what in between his sheets all without eddie getting a look in.

of course he’d made up a hundred different scenarios to fall asleep to each night.

his favourite being the one where he walks into his bedroom to find you mouth open, legs apart, too encapsulated in your pleasure to notice him. only until you do, inviting him closer, between those supple thighs of yours, a forbidden nirvana he’ll never get to know.

though more often than not he’s cruelly forced back into reality by robin ripping the curtains open at the ass crack of dawn, blaring sunlight on his face as you slip away from the grapples of his dream land.

now is his opportunity, the house quiet, bar the muffled giggles of you and robin upstairs. he’s safe for now, he thinks, rather foolishly. it’s late, the rest of them asleep or too busy in their own rooms to catch him in the act.

eddie’s never done anything like this before. it’s disgusting, perverted to the core.

good grief, this is prosecutable behaviour.

tiptoeing down the hall to his room, the door open just a crack, enticing him in further. he can still hear you on the floor above, giving him enough confidence to push it open a little more, edging inside with a quick glance back down the hall, just in case.

gratefully it seemed that you were just as messy as he was, your clothes strewn across the floor. his eyes immediately turning to the peeking of lace from under the pile. glancing one last time at the cracked door, ensuring that absolutely nobody would see him.

reaching down to gather the fabric in one quick swoop, bunching them in his palm as he lets out a quick sigh of relief.

oh fuck. they were so soft, fingers spreading to really get a feel. he wasn't even going to take them, he'd just wanted a little look, something to help his overactive imagination get all the important details right.

“what are you doing?” startling him in this precarious position, the lace of your underwear entangled around his fingertips.

eddie freezes, he can feel the heat rising through his chest, all the way up to the tips of his ears. scarlet red.

“uh.. i..i-i don’t know..” he hasn’t done anything like this before, he swears.

your mouth is open in a sort of half-smirk, half-perplexed gawp, closing the door before he could bolt.

you move around the mess, creeping closer until he can feel you brushing against his side, peering over into his hand.

“oh wow..” you remark, breath hot and sweet against his cheek, “what were you gonna do with those?”

eddie feels sick, trying not to projectile vomit across his room. there’s no way you wouldn’t tell robin. fuck. he could hear you now, voice full of disgust, robin laughing at how pathetic he was.

“n-nothing i swear..” stumbling through his sentence, “i was just..” excuses fail to come to mind, “i was uhm.. looking for something,” the absolute best his flustered mind to muster up.

“oh really?” reaching around to untangle them from his hand, “you sure about that?”

there’s no anger to your voice, but he doesn’t dare turn around to look at your face. afraid of what he’ll find. your eyes pitying, sad that he has to root around your dirty laundry to get off.

“i’m- i’m sure,” though the crack in his voice gives him away.

you hum, coming around to stand in front of his gormless face, “so you don’t wanna keep these?” holding the evidence up to his face, the hem just barely grazing his cheek.

eddie’s knees almost buckle, his breath shuddering as any semblance of composure he had left, floats right out the window.

“here,” reaching forward to tuck the baby blue fabric into the waistband of his sweatpants, your eyes never once leaving his as you do so. “you keep those.. but next time just ask, okay?”

he nods like an obedient dog, lapping up the scraps you were throwing him. he could stand here all night long, keeping up the weird little power game you’d started.

“goodnight eddie,” you smile, giving him a gentle nudge, a sign for him to get the fuck out.

you were the master, he was just the lap dog, eager to please.

at breakfast the next morning, he struggles to even keep his eyes open. having spent an embarrassingly long amount of time on the couch last night shamelessly sniffing the lace you’d gifted him.

you don’t even acknowledge it, or him for that matter. happily chatting along with nancy about some news article.

“oh and eddie,” robin begins, flashing him a stern look, “i don’t appreciate finding your fucking panties in between the couch cushions,”

he chokes on his mouthful, his knife clattering against the table in shock. a multitude of eyes turn to stare at the spectacle he was making.

“they’re- they’re not mine,” clearing his throat as he clears his name, though he doesn’t dare look in your direction, terrified that he’d absolutely lose his mind if he did.

“well whoever’s they are, i don’t care, stop leaving them on the couch.. i’m sure our guest doesn’t want to sit amongst dirty underwear,” she bites, calming down now she had gotten her point across.

if only she knew.

eddie must’ve fallen asleep with them still attached to his hand, thanking his lucky stars that no one had walked in on him with them pressed to his nose.

he keeps his head low, focusing on the plate in front of him. nothing had ever been as mortifying as this. not even the time he had slipped off the dinner table in the middle of the cafeteria.

cutlery scrapes and clinks against the china, uncomfortable silence until argyle clears his throat, “gnarly meal robin, thanks dude,” seemingly settling the tense atmosphere, for now.

everybody hums in agreement, getting back to their food without another word. but your eyes peek up, meeting his with an indescribable glint. and really, the worst part is that eddie would sit through this horrific situation a hundred more times, just for one more measly sniff at your panties.

eddie can’t take it anymore.

he’s never been so pent up in his entire life. and he’s tried to hold on until he could move back into his room but he couldn’t last any longer.

but he’s careful, waiting for everyone to trundle on off to bed, listening carefully for the muted click of the light switch and even then, waiting another hour to be sure.

the clock glares an alarming 1:04 by the time his belt clinks and his jeans come down, the first of them would be awake in just a few hours, ready to take you on to the airport.

he wishes it would’ve played out differently, that he wouldn’t be sat here on the last night of your stay alone. but alas, eddie’s never been particularly brave and especially not in regards to hot women.

your panties wrapped around his right hand as he spits on his left, wrapping around his stiff cock while his fingertips play with the lace in his other hand.

“ohh fuck,” he hisses, wanting nothing more than to start hollering the house down.

robin wouldn’t be too pleased if she ever found out what he’d done. and he can’t really afford to get the entire couch dry-cleaned so he really must be careful.

thinking quick, he shoves his t-shirt into his mouth, muffling the chorus of grunts and groans threatening to spill over into the dark room. the muted light from the tv illuminates his face, breathing loudly through his nose

he hadn’t heard the door open or the soft sound of your feet padding down the hall, only made aware of your presence when he reopens his eyes, near enough jumping out of his bones.

how long had you been there watching him shudder and whine?

“fuck,” he exclaims, fist still wrapped tight around his throbbing cock, too aroused to care about it too much.

“you want some help with that?”

eddie looks at his dick, then back at you, mouth hung open in a mixture of awe and confusion.

it’s not very clear but you move closer anyway, sinking to your knees and nestling in between his spread legs.

“okay?” maintaining eye contact despite how difficult it was, eyes bright and eager.

he nods, unable to comprehend what was happening. knowing he’d wake up from this twisted dream to some soggy boxers and a whole lotta shame.

your palm wraps around the base of his cock, shooing his hands away to make room, smiling as your lips wrap around the already leaking tip. were you a psychopath? were you placed on this earth to goad and tease him?

this isn’t real. this isn’t real. the voice repeats around his head though it’s quickly silenced by your tongue swirling circles around the tip of his cock, readjusting his t-shirt to bite down harshly on the fabric.

eddie’s hands lay useless on his thighs, twitching to intertwine with your hair, still doubting the reality of the situation. this could all be a dream and the second he touches your hair, you’d disappear from in front of his eyes.

the t-shirt falls from his lips, “fuuck,” grunting into the tense air, gritting his teeth so as to not expose your precarious position to the rest of the house.

the wet sounds of your lips wrapped tight around his cock make his toes curl, his hands find your hair, not without prompting from you. tugging gently at the tendrils as his head starts to spin.

when your eyes look up to meet his, eddie thinks he might just cum right down your throat then and there. he can see that troublesome glint in your eye, a roaring fire that he so desperately wants to keep stoking.

your fingers slide up his thigh, finding his neglected balls and with a slight smirk, you grab ahold, gently fondling them as his brain melts out of his ears.

no one had ever, ever made him feel so good. collectively losing brain cells when you hum on his cock, getting just as much out of this as he was.

“oh yeah, fuck- shit fuck, i’mcummingi’mcummingi’mcumming,” eddie’s mouth rushes, louder than he ever should’ve been. bright flashes of light fill his peripheral, using your scalp as leverage to keep himself on the couch.

his hips stutter, thrusting into your mouth with his fingers tight in your hair, yanking harshly in an effort to get your lips off of him before he came everywhere.

you don’t budge, nails digging into his thigh as his release seeps down your throat, his eyes squeezing shut as his fist instinctively comes up to muffle his mouth, moaning into his clammy palm instead of alerting the entire house.

eddie’s other hand lets go of his strong hold on your hair, allowing you to get off of his dick, panting happily as you sit up between his knees and with lips glistening with his release, you kiss him. all soft and gentle while his brain fails to compute.

it should be gross. but eddie just can’t find it in himself to care, because in reality, this was the hottest thing that had ever happened in his measly little life.

“please let me taste you,” he begs between kisses, grasping desperately at your waist, the fabric of your shirt slipping between his desperate fingers.

you giggle, pulling back to look at him through the dimmed light, “not now,” you hover just above, constantly teasing and unobtainable

“well when?" jutting his bottom lip out in hopes it'd convince you to change your mind.

"when i'm back," letting him down gently. eddie'd count the seconds till you came back if that was what it took to get even a tiny glimpse of your pussy.

“what time do you leave?” he pants, chasing your lips. eddie was nothing if not a chancer, though if it hadn't happened already, there's a miniscule chance of it happening now.

“seven,” whispering back, a hint of annoyance that this build up had only crescendoed now, just as you were about to leave. he'll blame robin for that, poking her nose in and trying to turn him off. it shouldn't have worked. he should've been braver.

“but it’s your turn,” an awful sadness and regret overcoming him. someone better, someone like steve, would've had you pinned to that couch by now, his head between your thighs and your slick dripping down his chin.

“next time,” only repeating yourself, smiling coyly before you plant one last kiss to his longing lips before standing fully upright and disappearing back off to his room, leaving him reeling with a story nobody else would ever believe.

#eddie munson #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson x you #eddie munson stranger things

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looseyjuicy · 14 days

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“You’re married?!” Is the hot topic of the room as everyone shows varying expressions of despair, panic, incredulousness and encouragement.

thanks, Lyds.

“E’yup!” He elongates the first syllable as he flips open a wallet that seemingly appears out of thin air, unraveling a couple feet worth of pictures. “A real keeper, if I do say so myself.”

They’re all taken at different locations with multiple poses, some risqué enough that prompts Barbara into shielding Lydia’s eyes with a scowl directed at the giddy demon.

outside of a few random ghouls, there’s only two repeating subjects. Beetlejuice, in all his disgusting, decomposed glory.

and You.

an undead man’s dream all wrapped up in various outfits that do well to accentuate your assets. upon further inspection, you don’t seem to be in any distress or making any attempts to flee.

In fact, minus the ones where you’re.. unfocused, you’re grinning from ear to ear with an arm wrapped around your ‘husband’s’ shoulders. among those are a few of you in a wedding dress and him in some ratty tux in what seems to be a Las Vegas style wedding chapel; there’s even an Elvis officiating.

it would seem that, for once, he wasn’t lying. the ghost with the most actually did get married. however, one small detail still has the Maitlands unconvinced.

“But you’re still.. you?” Adam motions to his entire form; still not alive and with even more moss that seemed to have grown on him.

Beetlejuice snickers, as if it were an inside joke only he was in on, “it wasn’t the most ‘holiest’ of unions, if you catch my drift.”

Barbara gives him a grossed-out look, mumbling a ‘really wish we didn’t.’ under her breath.

“Where’s the missus?” Lydia pipes up after prying off the cold hands still covering her face.

“Gettin’ a snack. Said she was feelin’ a bit peckish.”

the teen looks at him questionably, “we probably could’ve given her something here.”

“‘preciate the warm hospitality, kid,” he ruffles her already messy hair, earning him a smack on the hand as she tries to bat him away, “but trust me, you would not want her to eat something here.”

“What does that mean?” Barbara questions him, already sensing a trick about to unfold.

Beetlejuice just grins, answering with a simple, “she has a slight aversion to food.”

all this does is confuse the couple even more. deciding that the demon was an unreliable source, they take a closer look at the pictures to get any sort of hint.

which comes alarmingly fast when they narrow in on one with your widest smile.

a pair of sharp, pearly white fangs somehow glimmers right back at them.

#beetlejuice x reader #written with keatlejuice in mind but works for whichever !#literally made this blog after I wrote this #what’s an undead entity besides ghost? oh wait!#keatlejuice x reader #vampire!reader

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driverlando · 10 days

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✧.* AFTER HOURS

synopsis - I'll risk it all for you, I want you next to me

before you continue: I’ve been working on this for the past month, so pls be nice! It’s a 6k-word bad boy/biker Lando x waitress (f!reader) set in the 50s. there’s a mix of romance, tension, and some smut (minors DNI!). excited to hear your thoughts—enjoy! xx

The neon sign above the diner hums softly, its pink and blue lights flickering in the darkened night like a beacon. It’s the only thing that seems alive at this hour, casting a soft glow on the otherwise empty street. You’ve been working at this place for a while now, long enough that the rhythms of the night shift feel second nature. The jukebox in the corner has long since stopped playing, the last notes of Elvis Presley’s latest hit fading into the air. The diner is quiet, save for the occasional clink of dishes in the back or the low murmur of conversation from the last remaining patrons—a couple of old men nursing their black coffees.

You glance at the clock above the door, a wave of relief washing over you as you see it’s nearly the end of your shift. All you want is to get out of this uniform, go home, and maybe catch some sleep before the morning light creeps through your curtains. The night has a chill to it, the kind that seeps into your bones, reminding you that summer is fading fast.

The bell above the door jingles, and despite yourself, your heart skips a beat. You don’t even need to look up to know who it is; you can feel his presence like a shadow that lingers just out of sight. Lando Norris. The town’s resident bad boy, the one all the girls whisper about and the one your mother warned you to stay away from. He’s trouble in every sense of the word, and yet, you find it impossible to ignore the way the air seems to crackle when he’s around.

He’s been coming in every night for the past few weeks, always showing up right before your shift ends. You’ve tried not to pay him any mind, but it’s hard when he looks at you the way he does, with that cocky smirk that makes your stomach twist and your heart race.

Tonight, he’s wearing that same leather jacket, the one that makes him look even more dangerous. His hair is tousled, damp from the cool night air, and there’s a hint of rain on his skin. He strides in like he owns the place, but his eyes are on you the moment he steps through the door.

“Hey, doll,” he greets, his voice smooth, with that hint of something playful and teasing that always makes you bite back a smile.

“Lando,” you acknowledge, keeping your tone even as you wipe down the counter one last time. “You’re here late.”

He shrugs, sliding onto the stool right in front of you, his gaze never leaving your face. “Couldn’t stay away.”

You roll your eyes, trying to ignore the way his words make your pulse quicken. “What’ll it be tonight?”

“Just a coffee,” he says, leaning back in his seat, the leather of his jacket creaking softly. “Unless you’ve got something a little more exciting to offer.”

You pour the coffee without responding, sliding the cup across the counter to him. “This is as exciting as it gets.”

He chuckles, taking the cup and lifting it to his lips. “You say that every time, sweetheart, but I know there’s more to you than you’re letting on.”

You ignore his comment, focusing instead on finishing up your closing tasks. But you can feel his eyes on you, the weight of his gaze almost tangible. It’s not the first time you’ve felt it, and it won’t be the last, but tonight it feels different. There’s an electricity in the air, something that makes your skin prickle and your heart beat just a little faster.

“Why do you keep coming here, Lando?” you ask, more to break the silence than anything else.

He sets his cup down, the smirk still playing on his lips. “Why do you think?”

You meet his gaze, trying to keep your expression neutral. “Because you’re bored?”

He shakes his head, leaning forward slightly, his eyes glinting in the dim light. “No, because I like seeing you. I like the way you pretend you’re not interested.”

Your breath catches in your throat, and for a moment, you don’t know what to say. You’ve been doing your best to keep your distance, to keep him at arm’s length, but he has a way of getting under your skin. Still, you can’t let him know that.

“My shift’s over,” you say, avoiding his eyes as you untie your apron and hang it up behind the counter. “You should go home.”

“So should you,” he says, his tone softening. “But not alone.”

You scoff, shaking your head as you grab your coat from the back. “I’m fine on my own, thanks.”

You don’t wait for his response, don’t even look back at him as you head for the door. You’ve made it clear that you’re not interested, even if that’s not entirely true. Lando is trouble, and you’ve worked too hard to stay out of it.

The cool night air hits you as soon as you step outside, the drizzle turning into a light mist that clings to your hair and clothes. The street is quiet, the only sound the distant hum of a car engine and the soft patter of rain on the pavement. You pull your coat tighter around yourself, your footsteps echoing in the stillness as you start walking down the street.

You’re halfway down the block when you hear it—the low, unmistakable rumble of a motorcycle engine. You don’t need to turn around to know who it is, but you do anyway, your heart sinking slightly as you see Lando pulling up beside you on his sleek black motorcycle. His head is tilted slightly, that ever-present smirk still on his lips as he coasts along the sidewalk at your pace.

“Need a ride?” he asks, his voice barely audible over the engine.

“No,” you reply curtly, picking up your pace. “I’m fine.”

“You sure?” he calls after you. “It’s a long walk home, and it’s starting to rain.”

You ignore him, determined to keep walking. You don’t want to give him the satisfaction of knowing he’s getting to you, even if he already knows. But Lando isn’t one to give up easily.

You hear the motorcycle rev slightly as he pulls ahead of you, cutting off your path. You stop abruptly, your breath catching in your throat as he swings off the bike with a fluid grace that makes your heart skip a beat. He steps in front of you, blocking your way, his eyes locking onto yours with an intensity that makes it hard to breathe.

“Come on, doll,” he says, his voice low and coaxing. “Let me take you home.”

You shake your head, taking a step back, but the look in his eyes holds you in place. There’s something about the way he’s looking at you, something that makes you want to give in, to let go of all the reasons why this is a bad idea.

“I don’t need your help,” you say, but your voice lacks conviction.

He steps closer, his hand reaching out to gently grasp your wrist. His touch is warm, sending a jolt of electricity up your arm. “I know you don’t need it,” he murmurs, his voice soft, almost tender. “But maybe you want it.”

You swallow hard, trying to ignore the way your heart is pounding in your chest. The rain is starting to fall heavier now, droplets clinging to his hair and sliding down his face. There’s a vulnerability in his eyes, something raw and unguarded that makes it impossible to look away.

“Why do you care?” you ask, your voice barely above a whisper.

“Because,” he says, his thumb brushing lightly over your wrist, “you’re not like the others. And I can’t stop thinking about you.”

You want to resist, to tell him to leave you alone, but the words get caught in your throat. You can’t deny the pull you feel toward him, the way he makes you feel alive in a way that nothing else does. And before you can talk yourself out of it, before you can remind yourself of all the reasons why this is a bad idea, you find yourself nodding.

“Okay,” you say softly.

A slow, almost relieved smile spreads across his face, and he steps back, releasing your wrist. He gestures to the bike, and you hesitate for only a second before stepping forward. The rain is coming down in earnest now, the drops heavy and cold against your skin as you approach the motorcycle.

He hands you the spare helmet, and you take it, slipping it over your head. The leather seat is slick with rain as you swing your leg over the bike, your hands instinctively gripping his jacket as you settle behind him. The engine purrs beneath you, the vibrations humming through your body as he revs it slightly.

“You ready?” he asks, turning his head slightly to glance back at you.

You nod, though he can’t see it with the helmet on. “Yeah.”

With that, he kicks the bike into gear, and you’re off, the motorcycle roaring down the empty street, the rain whipping against your face. You cling to him, your fingers digging into the leather of his jacket as the world blurs around you. The cold night air bites at your skin, but there’s a thrill in it, a sense of freedom that you’ve never felt before.

Lando takes the turns with an ease that speaks of years of experience, the bike leaning just enough to make your heart race. The town flashes by in a blur of lights and shadows, and before you know it, you’re out on the open road, the city behind you.

He doesn’t take you home. Instead, he heads out of town, the road stretching out in front of you, the rain-soaked asphalt glistening in the dim light. The fields on either side of you are dark and endless, the occasional hedgerow or tree flashing by as Lando speeds along the wet road. The sound of the engine is a steady roar in your ears, a low thrum that seems to match the rhythm of your heartbeat.

You should be worried—he hasn’t said a word about where he’s taking you, and you’ve barely known him long enough to trust him with something like this. But there’s something exhilarating about the way he handles the bike, the confidence in his every move, that makes you feel strangely safe despite the reckless speed. It’s as if, for the first time in ages, you’re letting yourself go, allowing the night and the rain and the thrill of the ride to sweep you away.

The rain falls harder now, soaking through your coat and plastering your hair to your face beneath the helmet. The chill seeps into your bones, but it’s dulled by the heat radiating from Lando’s back, the warmth of his body a stark contrast to the cold night air. You hold on tighter, pressing yourself closer to him as the bike hurtles down the road.

Finally, after what feels like both an eternity and no time at all, Lando begins to slow down. The road narrows, the trees growing thicker and closer together as you turn onto a smaller lane. The headlights cut through the darkness, revealing a small, secluded motel nestled at the edge of the woods. The sign above the door is old and faded, the neon flickering weakly, but the place looks clean and well-kept.

Lando pulls the bike into the gravel car park, coming to a stop near the entrance. The engine cuts off, leaving a ringing silence in its wake, broken only by the patter of rain on the pavement and the distant rustle of leaves in the wind. He dismounts first, holding the bike steady as you slide off the seat and remove your helmet.

You stand there for a moment, your heart still racing from the ride, the rain dripping off your clothes and pooling around your feet. You look at Lando, trying to gauge his expression, but his face is shadowed, unreadable in the dim light.

“Why here?” you ask, your voice barely above a whisper.

He doesn’t answer right away, just watches you with those intense eyes of his, like he’s trying to figure you out. Then, with a slight tilt of his head, he gestures towards the motel. “Come on. Let’s get out of the rain.”

You hesitate, every logical part of your brain screaming at you to turn around and walk away. This is dangerous—Lando is dangerous, with his easy charm and his reckless ways. You’ve worked hard to keep your life steady, predictable, and bringing him into it is like inviting chaos. But something holds you back, something that refuses to let you walk away.

Maybe it’s the way he looks at you, with that mix of mischief and something deeper, something almost vulnerable. Or maybe it’s the thrill of doing something you know you shouldn’t, the excitement of stepping outside the lines you’ve drawn for yourself. Whatever it is, it makes you follow him without another word, the two of you walking side by side towards the motel entrance.

The lobby is small and cosy, the kind of place that hasn’t changed much since it was built, probably a couple of decades ago. The man behind the counter barely glances up as Lando approaches, just slides a key across the counter with a bored expression. It’s clear he’s seen this kind of thing before—young couples looking for a place to escape for the night, away from prying eyes and small-town gossip.

You feel a flutter of nerves as Lando takes the key and leads you down a narrow hallway to one of the rooms. The door creaks slightly as he pushes it open, revealing a modest space with a double bed, a small table with a couple of chairs, and a dresser with a mirror above it. It’s not much, but it’s clean and dry, and after the cold rain outside, it feels almost inviting.

Lando steps inside first, holding the door open for you. You hesitate again, your mind racing with a thousand thoughts—about what you’re doing, what this means, what will happen next. But then you meet his eyes, and all those thoughts seem to scatter like leaves in the wind. There’s something in his gaze that’s both tender and intense, a look that makes your heart pound and your resolve crumble.

You step inside, and the door clicks shut behind you, sealing you both inside the small, warm room. The sound is final, like a decision being made, a line being crossed. Lando turns to face you, his expression unreadable as he watches you standing there, rain-soaked and shivering slightly in the dim light.

“Are you alright?” he asks, his voice low and gentle, a stark contrast to the way he usually speaks.

You nod, though you’re not entirely sure if it’s true. Your heart is racing, your mind a whirlwind of emotions—fear, excitement, anticipation—all tangled together in a way that makes it hard to breathe. But you don’t want to back out now, not after everything that’s led you here.

Lando steps closer, his hands coming up to gently brush your wet hair away from your face. His touch is warm and soft, a tenderness you hadn’t expected. His eyes search yours, as if looking for any sign of hesitation, any reason to stop.

“You don’t have to do this,” he says quietly, his fingers lingering on your cheek.

“I know,” you whisper, your voice trembling slightly. “But I want to.”

It’s the truth, or at least part of it. You’re scared, yes, but you’re also drawn to him in a way you can’t explain. There’s something about Lando that calls to the part of you that’s been buried for so long, the part that craves something more than the quiet, predictable life you’ve built for yourself.

He studies you for a moment longer, as if making sure you really mean it, then nods slightly. His hand slips down to yours, his fingers intertwining with yours as he leads you further into the room. There’s a gentleness in his movements, a care that surprises you, considering his usual devil-may-care attitude.

The rain drums steadily against the window, a constant rhythm that fills the silence between you. Lando’s hand leaves yours as he shrugs off his jacket, draping it over one of the chairs before turning his attention back to you. You feel a nervous flutter in your stomach as he steps closer, but it’s mingled with anticipation, a thrill that sends shivers down your spine.

His hands find your shoulders, sliding your coat off and letting it fall to the floor. You’re hyper-aware of every movement, every touch, the way his fingers brush against your skin as he helps you out of your wet clothes. There’s an intimacy to it, a quiet care that makes your breath catch in your throat.

You stand there in just your undergarments, the cold air of the room making you shiver, but Lando’s eyes are warm as they trail over you, his gaze filled with something you can’t quite name. He takes a step back, his hand reaching out to gently take yours again.

“Come here,” he murmurs, leading you towards the bed.

You follow him, your heart pounding in your chest, the reality of the situation hitting you all at once. This is happening. You’re here, with him, in a motel room in the middle of nowhere, about to cross a line you’ve never crossed before. But there’s no fear, only a deep sense of rightness, like this is where you’re meant to be, in this moment, with him.

Lando sits on the edge of the bed, pulling you gently towards him until you’re standing between his knees. His hands slide up your thighs, resting on your hips as he looks up at you, his eyes dark and full of emotion. He’s always been confident, always in control, but now there’s a vulnerability in his gaze, a quiet question he’s asking without words.

You answer by leaning down, your hands cupping his face as you press your lips to his. The kiss is soft at first, tentative, as if you’re both testing the waters. But it quickly deepens, a hunger igniting between you that has been simmering for weeks. His arms wrap around your waist, pulling you closer as he kisses you like he’s been waiting for this moment just as long as you have.

The world outside the room fades away, leaving only the two of you, tangled together in the heat of the moment. His hands are everywhere, exploring your body with a reverence that makes you feel cherished, like you’re something precious. It’s intense and overwhelming, but in the best possible way.

Time seems to lose meaning as you lose yourselves in each other, the night stretching out as if it were infinite. The rain outside creates a soothing, rhythmic backdrop to your passion, a comforting contrast to the fire burning between you.

Lando’s kisses are insistent, devouring, yet he moves with care, as if he’s memorising every inch of you. His touch, though firm, is never rough, always just right, and you melt into him, feeling like you’re discovering parts of yourself you never knew existed. You can feel the tension in his body, the way he holds himself back slightly, as though he’s afraid of rushing, afraid of breaking whatever fragile connection has formed between you.

Your fingers slide through his damp hair, tugging slightly, and a low groan escapes his lips. It sends a thrill through you, emboldening you to press closer, your body flush against his. He shifts, pulling you into his lap, your legs straddling his thighs as he tilts his head to deepen the kiss. The sensation of being held by him, feeling his strength beneath your touch, is intoxicating.

You break the kiss to catch your breath, your forehead resting against his. His breath comes in short, sharp bursts, his chest rising and falling against yours. He looks up at you, eyes dark with desire but softened by something more—something that makes your heart stutter in your chest.

“Are you sure?” he asks, his voice rough with restraint, the words a mere whisper in the small space between you.

You nod, not trusting your voice to convey the depth of your certainty. There’s no room for doubt in your mind. Being with him, here, now, feels like the most natural thing in the world, as if you’ve been waiting your whole life for this moment. For him.

He studies your face, searching for any sign of hesitation, but when he finds none, his expression shifts from questioning to resolute. His hands, which had been resting on your hips, slide up your back, pulling you even closer as he captures your lips again. This kiss is different, filled with the unspoken promise of what’s to come, a promise that you’re both eager to fulfil.

Without breaking the kiss, Lando shifts his weight, turning and laying you gently on the bed. The mattress dips under his weight as he hovers over you, his gaze never leaving yours. There’s a moment of stillness, a shared breath, and then he’s kissing you again, his hands roaming your body with a purpose that makes you shiver in anticipation.

Every touch, every caress, is like a match struck against stone, igniting a flame that consumes you both. He moves with a slow, deliberate pace, savouring each moment, each gasp and sigh that escapes your lips. It’s as if he wants to remember every second, to carve this night into his memory as something sacred.

The room is warm, the heat from your bodies chasing away the chill of the night. Your hands map out the contours of his muscles, the smooth lines of his body, as you pull him closer, wanting more of him, needing to feel him everywhere. He responds in kind, his lips trailing down your neck, over your collarbone, as if he’s worshipping every inch of you.

When he finally moves to remove the last barriers between you, there’s no hesitation, no second-guessing. It’s a natural progression, a culmination of everything that’s been building between you since the first time he walked into the diner and looked at you with those piercing eyes. There’s a shared understanding, an unspoken agreement that this is where you were always meant to end up—together.

The first moment of true connection is almost overwhelming in its intensity. It’s more than just physical; it’s as if every wall you’ve ever built around yourself crumbles in an instant, leaving you exposed, vulnerable, but not afraid. There’s no fear, only a deep, bone-deep sense of rightness, of finally finding the place where you belong.

Lando moves with a rhythm that’s both tender and powerful, each thrust sending waves of pleasure through you that build and build until you think you might shatter from the sheer force of it. His name falls from your lips like a prayer, a plea, and he answers with a low, guttural groan that reverberates through your entire being.

The world narrows down to the two of you, the feel of him inside you, the way he whispers your name like it’s the only thing that matters. Time loses all meaning as you’re swept away by the tidal wave of sensation, your bodies moving together in perfect harmony, a dance as old as time itself.

When the wave finally crashes over you, it’s with a force that leaves you breathless, clinging to him as the pleasure shudders through you, leaving you trembling in its wake. He follows soon after, his body tensing, his breath hot against your skin as he finds his own release. The feeling of him coming undone with you, because of you, is almost too much to bear.

For a long moment, neither of you moves, your bodies still entwined, chests heaving as you try to catch your breath. The only sounds are the rain tapping lightly against the window and the soft, shared breaths filling the space between you. Lando’s weight is comforting, grounding, and you don’t want him to move, don’t want this moment to end.

He lifts his head slightly, his eyes searching yours, as if he’s looking for reassurance that you’re still here with him, that this wasn’t some fleeting dream. You offer him a small, tired smile, your fingers brushing through his sweat-dampened hair.

“That was…” he starts, but trails off, seemingly at a loss for words.

You understand, though. You feel it too—this connection, this sense of something more between you. It’s more than just a one-time thing; it’s like you’ve found something precious, something you weren’t even sure you were looking for.

“Yeah,” you whisper, your voice soft but filled with conviction. “It was.”

He smiles then, a genuine smile that lights up his whole face, making him look almost boyish in his joy. It’s a smile that makes your heart skip a beat, that fills you with warmth and hope.

Lando rolls onto his side, pulling you with him so that you’re curled up against his chest. His arms wrap around you, holding you close as if he’s afraid you might disappear if he lets go. You can feel the steady thump of his heart beneath your cheek, a comforting rhythm that lulls you into a sense of peace.

For a while, you just lie there, basking in the afterglow, the silence between you comfortable and easy. The storm outside seems to have calmed, the rain now a gentle drizzle, almost soothing as it patters against the window.

But as the euphoria of the moment fades, reality starts to creep back in, bringing with it the questions and doubts that you’d managed to push aside in the heat of the moment. What happens now? What does this mean for you, for him, for the two of you together?

You shift slightly, tilting your head to look up at him. “Lando?”

He hums in response, his eyes closed, his face relaxed in a way you’ve rarely seen.

“What happens now?” you ask, your voice small, almost afraid to break the spell.

He opens his eyes, blinking down at you, and for a moment, there’s a flicker of something—uncertainty, maybe? But it’s quickly replaced by a look of determination, of resolve.

“Now,” he says, his voice firm but gentle, “we figure it out.”

You nod, wanting to believe him, wanting to hold onto this feeling for as long as you can. But the doubts are still there, lurking at the edges of your mind.

“Are you sure?” you ask, needing to hear him say it, needing to know that this isn’t just a fleeting moment, that it means as much to him as it does to you.

He pulls you closer, his arms tightening around you, his gaze steady and sincere. “I’m sure,” he says, his voice leaving no room for doubt. “I don’t know what this is, but I know it’s something real. And I don’t want to lose it.”

The sincerity in his words, in his eyes, soothes the lingering doubts in your mind. You rest your head against his chest again, closing your eyes and letting his steady heartbeat calm you.

“Okay,” you whisper, a sense of peace settling over you.

He kisses the top of your head, his lips lingering there for a moment, and you feel his smile against your hair.

You stay like that for a long time, just holding each other, content in the quiet intimacy of the moment. The world outside might be complicated, full of uncertainties and challenges, but in this room, in each other’s arms, there’s only warmth, safety, and the promise of something more.

Eventually, the exhaustion from the night catches up with you, your eyes growing heavy as sleep begins to pull you under. Lando’s presence is a comforting anchor, his arms around you a safe haven that you don’t want to leave. As you drift off, the last thing you’re aware of is the steady rhythm of his breathing, a lullaby that carries you into a peaceful, dreamless sleep.

When you wake, it’s to the soft light of dawn filtering through the thin curtains, casting a warm, golden glow over the room. For a moment, you’re disoriented, the events of the night before hazy and surreal in your sleep-fogged mind. But then you feel the warmth beside you, the steady rise and fall of Lando’s chest beneath your cheek, and everything comes rushing back.

You lift your head slightly, taking in the sight of him asleep beside you. His face is relaxed, peaceful in a way that makes him seem younger, almost boyish. The morning light softens his features, highlighting the curve of his jaw, the way his dark lashes fan out against his cheeks. He looks so different from the cocky, self-assured boy who strides into the diner every evening, his swaggering confidence replaced by something gentler, more vulnerable.

For a moment, you just watch him, your heart swelling with an emotion you’re not quite ready to name. It’s strange, how quickly things have changed between you, how one night can alter the course of your life so drastically. But as you lie there, wrapped in the warmth of his arms, you can’t find it in yourself to regret anything that’s happened.

You shift slightly, careful not to wake him as you slip out of bed. The cool air of the room hits your bare skin, making you shiver as you pull on the discarded shirt from the night before. It smells faintly of him, a comforting scent that makes you smile as you button it up.

Quietly, you pad over to the window, pulling the curtain back slightly to peer outside. The rain has stopped, leaving the world fresh and clean, the grass glistening with morning dew. The sky is a soft blue, streaked with the pink and gold of the rising sun. It’s a beautiful morning, the kind that makes everything seem possible, like the whole world is brimming with promise.

But as you stand there, the doubts start to creep back in. What happens now? The question lingers in your mind, refusing to be silenced. Last night was incredible, a perfect moment in time, but what about today? What about tomorrow? You and Lando come from such different worlds—how can this possibly work in the long run?

You’re so lost in thought that you don’t hear him stir until his arms slip around your waist, pulling you back against his chest. He rests his chin on your shoulder, his breath warm against your ear as he murmurs, “What are you thinking about?”

You sigh, leaning back into his embrace. “Just… wondering what happens now.”

His hold tightens slightly, as if he’s afraid you’re going to slip away. “We talked about this last night, remember? We’ll figure it out.”

“I know, but…” You hesitate, trying to find the right words. “It’s just—everything’s so different in the daylight. Last night felt like a dream, like we were in our own little world. But now…” You trail off, unsure how to articulate the anxiety gnawing at you.

Lando is silent for a moment, his brow furrowed in thought as he follows your gaze out the window. Finally, he turns you around to face him, his hands resting on your shoulders. “Hey, look at me,” he says softly, waiting until you meet his eyes. “Nothing’s changed. I’m still here, and so are you. We can make this work.”

“But how?” you ask, the words spilling out before you can stop them. “We barely know each other. What if… what if this doesn’t last? What if it all falls apart?”

He studies you for a moment, his expression serious. “Do you really believe that?” he asks quietly.

“I don’t know,” you admit, your voice trembling slightly. “I’m scared, Lando. I’m scared of what happens if we try and it doesn’t work. I don’t want to lose… whatever this is.”

He sighs, his thumb brushing gently across your cheek. “I’m scared too, if I’m honest. I’ve never felt like this about anyone before. But that’s why we have to try, yeah? Because it’s worth it. You’re worth it.”

The sincerity in his voice, in his eyes, makes your heart skip a beat. He’s right, of course. You know he is. You’ve spent so much time playing it safe, keeping yourself hidden away, that the idea of something real, something that could actually mean something, terrifies you. But it’s also what you’ve been longing for—someone to break through the walls you’ve built around yourself, to show you that there’s more to life than just getting by.

You take a deep breath, nodding slowly as you try to push past the fear. “Okay,” you say softly. “We’ll figure it out.”

A slow, relieved smile spreads across his face, and he leans down to press a gentle kiss to your forehead. “Good. Because I’m not giving up on this. Not on you.”

His words wrap around you like a warm blanket, soothing the anxiety that’s been simmering beneath the surface. Maybe it won’t be easy, maybe there will be challenges you can’t even foresee yet, but standing here in his arms, you feel like maybe, just maybe, it’s worth the risk.

You rest your head against his chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart, and for the first time in a long time, you allow yourself to hope. To believe that things might actually work out.

After a while, he gently nudges you towards the bed. “Come on, let’s get some more sleep,” he suggests, his voice still thick with the remnants of sleep.

But you shake your head, smiling up at him. “We’ve got a long day ahead of us,” you say, feeling a strange surge of determination. “Let’s not waste it.”

He chuckles softly, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear. “Always so practical,” he teases, though there’s a fondness in his tone that makes your heart flutter. “Alright, let’s get dressed. But I’m warning you, I’m taking you out for breakfast. Proper breakfast, not just coffee at the diner.”

The mention of the diner brings you back to reality, the thought of going back to your usual routine, of facing the world outside this room, suddenly feeling daunting. But Lando’s easy smile and the warmth in his eyes give you the courage you need to take that first step.

You both dress in comfortable silence, the weight of what’s to come hanging between you, but there’s no sense of dread, only a quiet resolve. Once you’re both ready, Lando grabs his jacket, offering you a lopsided grin as he swings it over his shoulder.

“Ready?” he asks, his voice light but his eyes serious.

You take a deep breath, nodding as you take his hand. “Ready.”

Together, you step out of the motel room, the morning sun casting long shadows on the gravel beneath your feet. The world outside feels different now, not quite as daunting, not quite as overwhelming. With Lando beside you, his hand warm in yours, you feel like you can face whatever comes your way.

As you walk towards the motorcycle, you glance up at him, a question forming in your mind. “So, where are we going?”

He grins, that mischievous sparkle back in his eyes. “You’ll see. It’s a surprise.”

You raise an eyebrow, half-amused, half-curious. “Another one of your surprises, huh? Should I be worried?”

“Nah,” he says, squeezing your hand reassuringly. “Trust me, you’ll like this one.”

And strangely enough, you do trust him. Maybe that’s the most surprising thing of all—how quickly you’ve come to rely on him, to feel safe with him, even though he’s nothing like the kind of person you’d ever imagined yourself with.

But life has a funny way of surprising you, of taking you down paths you never expected. And as you climb onto the back of his motorcycle, wrapping your arms around his waist, you realise that maybe, just maybe, you’ve found exactly what you didn’t even know you were looking for.

The engine roars to life beneath you, and with a thrill of anticipation, you hold on tight as Lando pulls out of the car park and onto the open road. The wind rushes past, the world blurring around you, but you don’t feel lost anymore. You’re heading into the unknown, yes, but you’re not alone.

As you ride through the countryside, the morning sun rising higher in the sky, casting everything in a golden light, you feel a sense of peace settle over you. Whatever comes next, whatever challenges you face, you know you’ll figure it out—together.

And that, you think, might just be enough.

Lando’s voice cuts through the wind, loud enough for you to hear over the roar of the engine. “You alright back there?”

You lean forward, resting your chin on his shoulder, and smile. “I’m perfect.”

He laughs, a sound that’s full of life, full of promise, and you feel it resonate deep within you. This is just the beginning, you realise. The start of something new, something real. Something that could change everything.

As the miles stretch out before you, the road winding through the countryside, you hold on tight to Lando, to the future that’s waiting for you just beyond the horizon. It’s a future you never expected, with a boy you never imagined would mean so much to you.

But it’s yours now, and you’re ready to embrace it with open arms.

The open road lies ahead, and with Lando by your side, you’re finally ready to see where it leads.

#f1 fanfic #f1 x reader #f1 smut #lando norris x reader #lando norris smut #lando norris fanfic #lando norris drabble #lando norris one shot #lando norris fluff #formula one x reader

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chaptersleftunwritten · 2 months

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Curb… Curb!!

Requested by the lovely @pipsqueakkitten xoxo

Blurb: Eddie tries to help you pass your driving test…

Pairing: Bestfriend!Eddie x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Anxiousness/anxiety is experienced, bad driving, fluff, kissing… that’s it!

Eddie’s favourite song thumps through the speakers in his van, the entire vehicle feels as if it is vibrating beneath your seat with every pulsing sound wave. Eddie’s fingers drum against the dashboard, his head banging up and down to the beat which makes his ringed hair flip wildly. Unbeknownst to Eddie, though, the music was only intensifying the anxiety ridden beast that had awoken deep inside of your stomach. You hated driving. Despised it, even, however you knew that if you wanted to ever make it out of this cursed town then you needed to get your license and quick.

“Eddie…” you whimper but your meek voice is lost beneath the music. Your hands are gripping the steering wheel so tightly that your knuckles have turned pale- the bones straining aggressively against the skin.

After being ignored you let out a huff, your eyes nearly welling with tears as you try to stop your legs from shaking- the ‘Elvis Leg’ is what your instructor calls it. When your nervous system lights up like a Christmas tree and the muscles in your calf’s spasm outwith your control.

“Eddie!!” You manage to muster a yell, your throat is disturbingly dry in your panicked state and your palms are beginning to sweat against the leather of the steering wheel. You are oddly aware of the way your bare thighs are pressed against your seat, the stiff carpeted fabric irking the skin and suddenly how hot it is inside of the van.

“Oh c’mon, sweetheart!” Eddie flashes you a Cheshire toothy grin that you only manage to catch a second long glimpse of, “You usually love this song!” His abdomen twists toward you, his chocolate brownie eyes drinking in your tense mannerisms.

Your elbows are locked in a 45° angle and your eyes are blown to the size of saucers. You look absolutely terrified and Eddie’s heart shrinks in his chest at the sight, “Honey? hey…” His calluses covered finger tips hesitantly find the plush skin of your thigh, resting his hand there and allowing his fingertips to dance circles over your knees, “It’s okay. I’m sorry…” The music is turned all the way down with his free hand and you feel as though you can breathe again.

“I can’t do this.” Your head shakes a top your shoulders as you mind swirls with nothing but doubt and frustration. You’re never going to pass your test.

Eddie shushes you comfortingly, “Yes you can. There’s no one around, love.” He scans the parking lot that is totally deserted, you are the only two there, “You don’t have to worry so much. Just take your time. Nice n’ easy.”

Nice and easy. Take your time.

There is a sharp intake of breath as you register Eddie’s hand on your thigh. Your eyebrows raised slightly in shock on your forehead as you flick your eyes over at him, smiling nervously.

“Now, if you just focus on your steering-“ You exhale deeply, your fingers loosening slightly as you relax back onto the seat, “Aim for that trash can over there.” Eddie’s ringed finger points off into the distance and you chew on your lip- a habit you’ve gained as you concentrate.

You appreciate Eddie’s patience and how calm he is next to you. You aren’t the best driver in the world and you’re grateful that Eddie is trying his best to make this as fun as possible for you. You know driving shouldn’t stress anyone out as much as it stresses you out- but you’re an anxious person. You can’t help it.

Listening to Eddie you circle around the empty spaces in the lot, driving toward the trash can Eddie had pointed out… however a sudden outburst from the messy headed man next to you makes your heart stop in your chest.

“Curb… curb!!” He reaches for the steering wheel, pulling it toward him and swerving you both out of the way. The van screeches to a haunt and your ears are ringing with fear as you try to ground yourself.

Eddie chuckles by your side but you don’t feel like laughing, actually, your hand grabs at your chest desperate to calm your thundering heart. If you thought you were afraid before, this must be hell itself causing havoc inside of your chest.

Your vision blanks and all you can focus on is the short bursts of breath being sucked in and out of your mouth. Eddie’s voice is lost to the black cloud entrapping your mind.

“Sweetheart? Baby?” His large palms find your shoulders shortly after he had unbuckled your seatbelt, “Honey, you’re scaring me.” You still are unable to respond, tears blurring your vision completely as your body starts to tremble uncontrollably.

“I’ve got you… I’ve got you.” Eddie pulls you to his chest, holding your head there with your ear pressed flush against his pecks. You get sucked into the rhythm of his beating heart and its acts like an anchor, bringing you back to safety.

“I don’t want to drive anymore today.” Your voice is a mix of sniffles and a hoarseness and Eddie quietly nods his head, acknowledging how fearful you are.

“How about you sit on my lap as I take you home? Show you that there’s nothing to be afraid of…” In reality, Eddie just wanted to keep you as close to him as possible. He can sense that his touch is comforting to you, but it’s also comforting to him to have you so near.

There is a pause, a moment of thought before you mod your head in agreement, allowing Eddie to slot beneath you in the drivers seat, “Can you see the road?” You question, your body is still on edge.

“Yep, sure can.” He promises, pulling the seatbelt to its maximum length so it’ll fit over the both of you. Eddie has a bad habit of not wearing a seatbelt very often, but he prioritises your safety above all else.. even his ego. “Ready?”

“As I’ll ever be,” And without another word Eddie speeds off into the distance, one hand leisurely placed on the steering wheel and the other rests on the inside of your thigh, squishing and gripping the skin.

You loved spending time with Eddie, it was why he was your best friend. You both spent nearly every waking moment together- laughing, fighting over who gets the last cookie and you always managed to partake in silly things like this.

He knew how to calm your wild heart just with a simple touch, just with a look or a smile. He knew you.

As your street approached in the distance Eddie laid a few peckish kisses onto your exposed shoulder, making you giggle at the contact. He would do anything to hear you laugh- to see you happy. Even if that meant he never got to tell you how he felt… how he loved you more than just being friends.

He thanks his lucky stars every night for the both of you meeting. It started in the halls at school, you weren’t paying attention and you rammed into him- papers flew everywhere, your lips parted in utter shock and Eddie forced himself to laugh otherwise he would have been pissed. But once he got a good look at you.. part of him knew you’d be together. Friends or not.

“Here we are!” Eddie exclaims with a grin and you return a smile.

“You wanna come in?” You ask, toying with the hem of your skirt, “Everyone’s out for the night… I don’t wanna be alone.” You shrug, trying to dismiss your honesty and Eddie twists the key in the ignition, the engine coming to a roaring stop.

“Lead the way, m’lady.” Throwing open the van door you jump down from the seat, about to kiss the ground with happiness at the mere sight of it. You’ve never been more thrilled to have your feet on the ground than you are right now.

“I can stay the night, if you’d like? Can watch some cheesy movies and critique them together?” Your heart flutters.

“Deal- you just can’t say anything bad about Dirty Dancing, okay? Otherwise I’ll take a swing at you.” You were joking partly. You just loved to watch Eddie squirm with annoyance, impatiently waiting to have his pick of the next film.

He groans, throwing his head back childishly, “Fine.” He follows you into the empty house. It’s dark and there is a prick of a chill in the air.

“If I have to endure this fetish fest just because you’re madly in love with Patrick Swayze then you have to watch The Shining afterwards-“ You interrupt him with a gasp.

Offended, you say, “I am not in love with Patrick Swayze!” Your voice is a shriek and Eddie smirks.

“You so are! Gawking at his muscles. Why else would you watch it? You watch it to watch him!” Eddie can barely speak from laughing and you swat at his chest.

“I do not watch it for him! He isn’t even attractive, he doesn’t look like you!” A silence falls over the living room and you gulp all too loudly.

“What?” Eddie is no longer laughing and there is a seriousness in his voice.

“I didn’t say anything-“

“Don’t do that.” He shakes his head, stepping closer to you, “What did you say about Patrick Swayze not looking like me?” You can see Eddie fighting to stop a shit eating grin from blessing his face and your cheeks heat as he repeats your own words back at you.

“He doesn’t, evidentially.” You gesture to Eddies body, your eyes shooting wide as you realise how bitchy you sound, “No- it’s a good thing! I like the way you look- I love the way you look. I don’t like him. That’s what I’m trying to say-“ As you ramble Eddie watches you closely, his eyes falling to your lips.

“God, do you ever shut up?” Your jaw falls slack and before you can even think of a reply Eddie presses his lips to yours. The warmth of him being so near envelopes you and transports you to a whole new dimension.

The kiss is sweet and tender, Eddie wants to be careful with you. He doesn’t want to ruin this. But he doesn’t know how badly you want him. How badly you have wanted this for so long.

“Patrick fucking Swayze cannot compare to all of this.” Eddie’s hands stroke down his chest, his hips swaying from side to side causing you to snort out a laugh.

“No… no he can’t.” You agree, your voice gentle as you pull Eddie back to you, going in for another kiss.

This time, you’re not letting him go.

taglist: @colorful-white-ideas @littlered0000 @ali-r3n

#eddie munson #stranger things #eddie munson x you #eddie munson angst #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson smut #eddie munson stranger things #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson x reader #eddie the freak munson #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie x reader #eddie munson fanfic #writerscommunity #fandom #request fulfilled

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allbark-no-bite · 9 months

Text

which lover will i get today.

elvis presley x reader (wc: 1.2 k)

summary: there were two sides to elvis presley, and you never knew which one you were going to get

warnings: toxic relationship, implied age gap (just mentioned that reader is younger)

authors note: after watching saltburn and priscilla, i can say that i’ve been converted to a jacob elordi fan. he’s a ridiculously tall freak of a man and i love him.

————————————————————————

You see him before he sees you, striding in through the front door of Graceland on those goddamn long legs that carry him twice as fast to the bottom of the stairs.

"Where's my girl?" he barks out, you being the first thing that has his attention about as soon as he enters the house. He stops at the first step, allowing you to meet him a few steps up from the bottom. For once you're just about the same height.

"Hello." You greet him, your voice quiet. It's timid, almost like you're uncertain of whether or not he's even remembered you, like maybe you've just dreamed this whole thing up and he's not really madly in love with you.

At your quietness, his aura changes, and he dims himself a little just for you. As if reminding himself that you're not one of his cousins or the Mafia. You're his girl, his Satnin. His expression becomes more pleased than exuberant, his smile faintly subdued.

"Hello," he says softly, copying your greeting with an air of teasing. Because it's so preciously innocent. Because hello is such a laughable greeting after not seeing each other for months. Because it's absurd how much he adores you.

"Hello," he then repeats, firmer this time. Because Hello, I missed you. Hello, where have you been all my life? Hello, I love you.

Elvis closes the distance between the two of you, one of his large hands pressing into your back to bring you into his chest, the other on your waist. His mouth finds yours, gentle and sweet, smiling privately into the kiss. Not really even kissing you properly because there will be plenty of more opportunities to kiss you in the future.

And he's just so charismatic that you don't even care.

But there were two sides to him.

And you never knew which one you were going to get.

That was the one thing that you kept having to remind yourself about him.

It was so easy to forget all of his faults when a majority of the time he was so utterly boyish. He still had to be reminded to pick up after himself, still had to be reprimanded for rough housing, still cried for his mama sometimes. He was fascinated by everything, and he had a new interest all of the time. First it was the books, then the guns, then the horses, then the sailing cap that he took to wearing at every opportunity.

The two of you had gone up to bed early, excusing yourself to a disgruntled Dodger back at the dinner table. You race up to Elvis' bedroom, both of you giggling like little kids as Elvis fumbles up the stairs after you.

Once inside his bedroom, you shriek when he catches you, his arms wrapping around you from behind. He lifts you off of your feet and hefts you onto the lavish spread of his bed, laughing all the while.

When you manage to sit up, brushing your hair from your face, Elvis is already turned back around, a camera in one hand and the previously mentioned captain's hat perched precariously a top his head. With the world at the tips of his fingers, everything was a game to him. He was always trying to find new ways to make life exciting, and if that meant playing dress up then he was all for it. Therefore his donning of the out of place hat came as no surprise to you.

What does surprise you is his tumbling onto the bed, and you have to duck to avoid his flailing limbs.

"C'mere," he laughs, one hand wrapping around your ankle and the other clutching the polaroid camera. He stands, dragging you towards him across the top of the bed until your hair is fanned out behind your head. Lifting the camera and squinting, he snaps a picture before you're kicking your foot from his grasp.

"Oh no you don't, lil' girl." You wheeze in laughter when he drops the camera and catches hold of your other leg, and you find yourself hanging upside down, your head just barely brushing the bed.

"O...o-kay! Okay!" You exclaim through the bubbles of laughter that escape your throat, trying and failing to hold down the bottom of your baby pink skirt. "I'm sorry! I'm sorry! Please, let me down!"

You tumble back onto the bed with a thunk when Elvis releases your feet from his grasp.

"You're a piece of work, Satnin. You know that?" he says with a huff, fixing the hat that had begun to fall from his head. It's to little avail because it falls off completely when you grab a pillow, swinging it at him before he can dodge it. A scoffing laugh erupts from him at your challenge, and he aimlessly shoves you away so that he can grab his own pillow.

Weak from laughing, you swing at him again, completely missing. Elvis lashes out with his pillow, and it barely catches you, giving you enough of a chance to wind up and swing at him again.

It's harder this time, as hard as a pillow can be, and you suppose it catches him off guard because the smile drops from his face and he shoves you back hard, so obviously not playing anymore. It doesn't hurt as much as it should, his hands on you, but maybe it's your own surprise that prevents you from feeling anything.

"Not so goddamn rough," he snaps, breathing hard.

You've heard him yell plenty before. At his cousins, the Colonel, his daddy, but never you. Especially not at you. It causes something sickening in the pit of your stomach that you don't like.

The shock has quickly evaporated and now you're left cowering at the end of his bed, hugging the pillow close to your chest. You don't know where they've come from but suddenly there are tears burning at your eyes. Embarrassed by his rebuke and angry at yourself for being upset, your voice cracks. "That's not fair. You can't play without winning."

"I don't wanna play with a goddamn man," he retorts, already removing himself from the bed. Elvis roughly tosses the pillow that he had been wielding onto the ground.

You see it then in his narrowed and glinting blue eyes. Not exactly anger but something else. Hurt, insecurity, fear. Then it's gone with the slam of the door.

You wait for the sound of his retreating footsteps down the stairs before you take in a shuddering breath, your chest feeling as if you hadn't been breathing the entire time, and quickly wipe at your eyes. It only made him angrier when you cried.

Certain that there's black eyeliner and mascara smeared under your eyes, you shakily stand up from the bed and go over to the bathroom mirror. There is. You look like a feral raccoon and immediately set to scrubbing it away. Once you've finished, your eyes are still glassy and your nose red, but at least you can't tell if your face is wet from the water or the tears.

The door opens behind you and then his hands are sliding around your middle, Elvis' towering figure a looming presence at your back. His head dips and his lips ghost your exposed shoulder, sponging soft, barely there kisses.

You close your eyes and you let him. This is as close to an apology that you’ll get.

It was just a moment. One moment of misjudgment. One single bad moment.

You’ll spend the rest of your life forgiving his bad moments.

#elvis presley x reader #elvis presley x y/n #priscilla movie #priscilla 2023 #elvis x reader #jacob elordi #jacob elordi elvis

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bubblegump-1-nk · 6 months

Text

It Hurts Me

pairing: Theodore Nott x female!reader

summary: In which you’re dating Adrian Pucey but your relationship is anything but healthy. Theo wishes you could see what’s right in front of you - songs: It Hurts Me by Elvis Presley and He Could Never Love You by Henry Morris and Playyar

Warnings: toxic and abusive relationships

- I’m sosososo sorry it has taken me so long to post. I’ve just been pretty lazy recently but I’m back(kinda)!! Also, implied Gryffindor reader but I don’t think I ever specified what house she’s in.

~~~

Theo was sitting at the Slytherin table for dinner. His friends chatting around him as he ate his mashed potatoes.

“It was completely unfair!” Complained Enzo, explaining how the red card call against him in the most recent quidditch match was uncalled for.

“Enzo, you grabbed Rais by the neck and threw him off his broom. It was completely fair.” Says Daphne, causing Enzo to roll his eyes and focus on his plate of food.

“Look,” says Pansy, elbowing Daphne lightly to get her attention. “They’ve been fighting again.” She says.

Theo follows their gaze, and sees you entering the Great Hall. Your eyes are bloodshot red and puffy. Mascara running slightly beneath your eyes. Theo clenches his fists at the sight of you. He can’t believe your still with that git Adrian Pucey.

“What do you think it was about this time?” Theo asks, still looking at you as you make your way over to the Gryffindor table.

“I heard them in the hallway earlier. Something about her school uniform.” Says Draco in between bites of food.

“What?! He’s angry about her goddamn school uniform?” Theo proclaims, astonished at how idiotic your stupid boyfriend is.

“Yeah, it’s too tight or something.” Draco explains.

Theo’s about to say something else, when Adrian walks into the dining hall.

His hair is messy, and his face is stoic yet his eyes are still furious. Every time Theo sees him he wonders how a girl as sweet and perfect as you could be in a relationship with a git like him.

“How long have they been together?” Mattheo asks, more quietly this time.

“About 6 months, I think.” Says Pansy.

Theo pushes his plate away, his appetite gone from thinking too much about you with someone else.

“I’m going to bed.” He says, getting up and leaving before anyone can ask any questions.

~~~

“Y/n, I seriously don’t understand why you’re still with him.” Hermione states, as you walk back to the common room.

“It’s complicated Hermione. He’s so good to me sometimes.” You explain.

“Well you should be with someone who’s good to you all the time.” She says, as you enter the common room.

“He’s just jealous sometimes. It’s not like he’s ever laid a hand on me or anything.” You state.

“Right, but it’s only a matter of time before it gets worse.”

“Hermione, please. I understand your looking out for me but please, just stay out of it.” You say, as you walk quickly up to your dorm, leaving Hermione, Harry, and Ron.

“Boyfriend problems again?” Ron asks.

“Like always.” Responds Hermione, plopping down on the couch.

~~~

“Hi Theo.” You say happily, as you see him in the hallway on your way out of the bathroom.

“Hi y/n, what class are you in right now?” He asks. Since classes were in session, the hallways were empty except for the two of you.

“History of Magic and I’m bored to insanity.” You say with a giggle, and Theo responds with a chuckle.

“Wanna skip?”

You give him a look, thinking of all the possibilities, but you quickly give in. How could you ever say no to Theodore Nott?

“Take me away.” You say. Theo gives a small surprised look, too quick for you to realize what it meant. In reality, he hadn’t truly expected you to say yes, considering that Adrian had forced you to block contact with just about every boy at Hogwarts. Your slight confusion slips away as Theo grabs your hand, and you giggle as he starts dragging you out of the building.

~~~

He takes you to the Black Lake, and he sets his things down by a tree as you try to catch your breath.

“Merlin, y/n, I need to take you on more runs if your panting after that.” He says jokingly.

You slap him lightly on the shoulder as you say, “No, you’re just absurdly tall! One of your steps is like 5 of mine.”

“Sorry, principessa, I guess I didn’t take that into consideration.” He says, laughing slightly at your demeanor.

“Ok, Mr. Cocky, wrap it up.” You say, smiling, as you go sit down by the tree.

Theo and you had been close friends since 2nd year, but you started to lose touch with him, (as well as practically all your guy friends) since you started dating Adrian. You missed moments like these and cherished them the little times you got them.

You began to get out your homework as Theo was walking towards the tree.

“Oh absolutely not.” He states, coming nearer.m

“What?” You ask, confused.

“You are not about to do homework right now. You might as well have stayed in class.” He states, grabbing your textbooks.

“Ok, ok, fine. Just put my books down and then I’ll do whatever you want to do.” You say, getting up for, your sitting position.

“Anything?” He says, a smirk on his lips as he sets your books down.

You playfully roll your eyes, “almost anything.” You clarify.

“Get in the lake with me.” He says.

“But it’s cold!” You protest.

He gives you a look, and as you stare into his eyes you can’t help but say yes to whatever he says.

“Well, let’s go then!” You say as you run towards the water, taking off your clothes.

Theo laughs as he runs behind you, both of your clothes sprawled out on the ground like a trail leading to the water, leaving you both in your underwear.

You get to the dock first, but before you get a moment to readjust yourself, Theo comes running behind you, grabbing you by the waist and taking you with him into the water.

You let out a yelp before plunging into the frigid water.

“Merlin it’s cold.” Theo says, as you two reach the surface again.

“What did you expect idiot. It’s the middle of February.”

“What did you just call me?” Theo says jokingly, grabbing you by the waist again to take you down under.

“No, please! Have mercy!” You says, jokingly before being engulfed in cold water. Your body and Theo’s wrapped tightly together.

You realize that this is the first time in months that you’ve felt truly free. Nothing but happiness in your head, not even a hint of fear. It’s something you haven’t experienced since you’ve been dating Adrian. In this small moment where you’re deep in these black waters, you realize that Theo is the only one who has shown you that since you’ve been with Adrian.

You feel yourself getting pulled up and your head breaks through the surface again.

“Race you to the dock!” Theo calls out, swimming quickly towards the shore.

“Wait! That’s so unfair!” You call out before swimming after him.

The sounds of your laughter mix together, and quickly you forget everything that’s ever pained you - especially Adrian.

Quickly you reach the dock, Theo already climbing onto it.

“Beat you bella.” Theo says, a large smile on his face.

“Yeah, only because you cheated.” You say, rolling your eyes playfully.

“Aw c’mon, just admit that you’re too slow for me.” He chuckling.

“Over my dead body. Now help me up, Nott.”

“Yes ma’am.” He says, reaching down to give you his hand and lifting you up quickly as if you weighed no more that 5 pounds.

“It’s freezing.” You say, walking towards your bags.

“Good thing I have a sweatshirt.” Theo says, handing it to you as reach the tree.

You conduct a quick drying spell on the both of you and you two began redressing, you slip Theo’s sweatshirt over your uniform.

You two sit down, chatting and laughing. You realize how long it’s been since you’ve really talked to Theo, and how much you’ve missed it.

“That’s why.” Theo ends his story, explaining why Mattheo and him put hair dye in Draco’s shampoo. You laugh heavily at the story.

Theo opens his mouth to add something else before he’s quickly cut off by another voice. You feel your body tense up as you recognize it.

“Well what the fuck do we have here?” Adrian calls out as he walks over to you.

You quickly look between Theo and Adrian, your voice leaving you for a second.

“Hi baby. We were just-“

“Drop it y/n. I don’t give a fuck what you were doing. What I want to know is why you’re hanging out with this brown haired bloke.”

After this comment, Theo quickly gets up, standing to his full 6’3 height.

“Theo stop.” You whisper, grabbing his arm and getting up.

“Don’t fucking touch him y/n. I thought I told you to stay the fuck away from him.” Adrian says, his temper rising.

“I-“ Theo begins, but you cut him off.

“You’re right A, I’m sorry. It won’t happen again.” You say, making yourself small and holding your head down.

“What? No-“ Theo starts again, before Adrian cuts him off.

“Let’s get out of here. Now!” He says, as he takes your hand and drags you away, leaving Theo speechless.

~~~

“I can’t take it anymore.” Theo says, back in the Slytherin common room. He had stood outside in shock for about 10 minutes before heading inside. He had always known Adrian was a shitty boyfriend, but he had never really seen you two interact. He had told the story to his friends and now they were all sitting around the fire pit discussing.

“I never realized it was that serious.” Said Enzo, looking severely concerned.

“I just don’t understand why she’s still with him. He doesn’t love her. He never has and he never fucking will. He’s a goddamn psycho.” Theo says, rage seeping out of him.

“It’s horrible.” Pansy says.

“It hurts me to see him treat her the way that he does. And the worst part is that I know he’ll never let her go, cause that’s just the kind of git that he is. I just wished she could see that he’s never going to change.” Theo says, full of anger and despair.

“And everyone knows. I mean the whole school is saying how dim witted she is to keep believing his lies.” Daphne says.

“I just wish she could pay attention to the ones who would treat her right.” Theo says, before getting up, saying a quick goodnight, and heading to bed. Although, he didn’t sleep all night, how could he? Knowing that you were still with Adrian and he could probably never have you.

~~~

“Can you hurry up? I want to get there before the good stuff runs out.” Calls out Mattheo, trying to gather the group to get to the Ravenclaw party on time.

“Merlin, we’re coming.” Says Pansy, annoyed at Mattheo’s whining.

Theo, Pansy, and Daphne make their way down to the rest of the group, and they start heading to the party soon after.

~~~

“You’re disgusting mate.” Theo says, as Mattheo downs a concoction given to him by Draco.

“I’m not weak, that’s what.” Mattheo says, causing Theo to chuckle at his stupidity.

Suddenly, he sees you walk into the Ravenclaw common room. You look beautiful in a black babydoll dress and your hair loosely curled. He stares at you in awe as you make your way around the party….. behind your stupid boyfriend.

“I’ll be right back.” Theo says to his friends, walking away before they can question him.

He maneuvers around the people quickly, reaching you in a matter of seconds. He taps you on the shoulder, causing you to turn around and stare up at him.

“Hey.” You squeak out, your eyes switching from looking at his to darting around the room quickly.

Theo’s about to say something before he notices something strange about your face. Your lip has a cut on the upper lip, and hidden away by quickly applied concealer your right eye appears to be an arrange of blues, greens, purples, and yellows.

Theo stares in shock, hoping he’s just being dramatic.

“What’re you-“ Adrian starts, noticing that you weren’t behind him anymore before he quickly sees the pair of you.

“Goddamn it, do you have no one else to bother, Nott?” Adrian says, going to reach for your arm.

Theo quickly decides he’s not going to let him take you away this time.

“You do that to her face?” Theo asks, trying to seem as nonchalant as possible.

Adrian laughs, as he looks to you. “Got to show her her place, y’know?” Adrian says chuckling.

Suddenly, you see Theo’s eyes darken, darken to a point you’ve never seen them get to before. The cup in his hand is crushed by his clenching fists, and his tongue is poking the inside of his cheek as he lets out a low chuckle. Quickly, before you can register what’s happening, Theo sends a punch directly into Adrian’s nose.

“What the fuck?” Adrian says, cupping his nose quickly before blood seeps all over the floor.

Before even Adrian can register what happened, Theo lands another punch, and another, and another.

Soon, Theo’s on top of Adrian, punching him ruthlessly.

Adrian is attempting to fight back but Theo’s too quick and Adrian is slowly losing consciousness. A ring has formed around the pair of them, some people attempting to break them before, 1) realizing it’s no use because Theo has absolutely no intention of stopping any time soon, or 2) the Slytherin boys stop them from grabbing Theo, because they’re enjoying the show. And on top of that, too many people are too scared of Theo to even try to intervene.

You stand back, shock stopping you from doing anything.

“Ok that’s enough.” Draco says, seeing Adrian on the ground in and out of consciousness, bruised and bloody.

“Help me you gits.” Draco calls out to the rest of the Slytherin boys.

They get Theo off of Adrian after a few seconds, and Adrian’s friends quickly pull him off of the ground and take him away.

“You touch her again and I’ll rip your fucking liver out next time, Pucey.” Theo calls out, shaking off his friends who are holding him back.

You continue to stand in your original position, mouth slightly agape as you look at Theo. No one’s ever really protected you like that.

“Theo.” You say as you walk up to him slowly.

Theo just stares at you, a softness in his eyes that wasn’t there seconds ago causes your knees to become shaky.

“I- thank you.” You say, before hugging him.

Theo quickly wraps his arms around you, holding you tightly. You begin to lightly cry into his chest, repeating your thanks over and over.

“Hey, hey, you don’t have to thank me.” Theo says, pulling you away so he can see your face, his large hands wiping away your tears.

“I just, I was so scared, all the time.” You explain.

Theo’s heart melts, and he carefully decides his next few words.

“You won’t ever have to be scared with me. If you’ll let me.” He says tenderly.

You smile, not believing that the Theodore Nott is asking you to be his.

“How could I not let you love me?” You say, before kissing him sweetly.

#slytherin boys #hogwarts school of witchcraft and wizardry #jealousyfic #theodore nott #harry potter #theodore nott x y/n #angst #adrian pucey #toxic relationship #toxicity

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a-hazbin-reader · 7 months

Note

i can't stop thinking about alastor and wifey slow dancing on "Can't Help Falling in Love" by Elvis Presley, at the dead of night, when they think everyone is asleep at the hotel, and everyone hiding away and witnessing just how corny they both are for each other

would you be willing to write this if you're taking request? 🥹

NOT THE FIRST TIME I'VE GOT THIS ONE SO-

Alastor X Reader Headcanons

✅️Romantic

❌️Platonic

TW: None?? I think???

Description: ��️⬆️

Things have been busy at the hotel lately, everyone has been scrambling to keep up with business which left you and Alastor with little time together

The moments you do get together are always either interrupted or you both are too exhausted to do little more than snuggle

You and Alastor try to make time together and set up a lunch date? It starts out well enough, the two of you relaxing

The food is good, the seats were perfect, and more importantly, you finally had your husband's attention all to yourself

He's rubbing a thumb over your hand gently, smiling at you like he's fallen in love with you all over again

"I've missed getting to spend time with you, things have been so busy lately..."

He lifts your hand to his lips and kisses it softly, humming in agreement as his foot nudges yours under the table

"As have I~ I can't have my wife getting lonely, now can I~?"

You rub your ankle against his leg gently, laughing softly at his antics

"No~ I suppose you can't-"

"Alastor! Fancy running into you here~! Listen, I gotta favor I need to ask you!"

Suddenly, Mimzy is there at the table and sitting herself down, getting settled in and leaning in to chat with Alastor

Who can never resist helping out the poor woman, so of course he nods along with whatever she's saying, leaving you to roll your eyes and get up

"I'll see you later, my dear~ Goodbye, Mimzy~ It was good to see you're still alive and causing trouble."

"Bye-bye girly~ We gotta catch up next time, you hear~?"

Alastor gives you an apologetic look, mumbling something about trying again next time as he hugs your hips to try and anchor you in place

You kiss the side of your husband's head and wave at Mimzy as you leave, your little window of time together vanishing

Another time, the two of you were out on a walk together, arm in arm as you two enjoyed the nice weather without interruptions

You were leaning on him, Alastor occasionally nuzzling the side of your head and squeezing you closer affectionately

You were just about to steal a kiss, tilting your head up and leaning in to meet his lips halfway when suddenly a TV in a shop window came to life

With Vox whining and bitching about Alastor again, that son of a bitch

You sigh as you feel your husband's intense gaze on you, rubbing your forehead as you look up to avoid the puppy eyes

"Go ahead, I can't very well keep you from defending yourself now can I?"

He chuckles and kisses your cheek softly before pulling away to give you a wide grin, already thinking of all the ways he's going to humiliate Vox on air

"You're simply the best wife a man could ask for~! Thank you, my dear~!"

You only shake your head and sigh once you're alone, the moment together once again being snatched away from you

You'll make Vox pay for that later

Things only got busier after that, you and Alastor only see each other as you pass by, not even able to squeeze out a quick kiss

"Hello, my darling~!"

His hand catches yours, twirling you expertly into his arms as he tries to give you some fleeting affection before he has to leave

You laugh and place your hands on his chest to steady yourself, slowly sliding a hand up to cup his cheek as you lean in closer

"Good luck today, dearest~"

Alastor leans down to rub noses with you, hands gripping your hips a little tighter, eyes locked on your lips as a soft sigh comes out of you

Any attempt to linger is thwarted by those around you, Charlie pulling Alastor one way and Vaggie tugging you in another

Tragic really

You've just about given up on getting a real moment alone with your husband, walking into a dark and quiet hotel carrying a half awake Vaggie

"Nn...this is Charlie's side of the bed..."

You can't help but roll your eyes, moving her over onto the correct side anyways and tucking her in

"Hush now, it's late and you need your sleep."

After carrying the poor girl to bed you nearly bump into Alastor, who's carrying a completely passed out Charlie, his ears folded back in embarrassment

"Aw~ You big softie...~"

"Not. A. Word."

You tap his nose playfully as you let him put Charlie to bed, suddenly getting a new surge of energy at the sight of him

Alastor finds you waiting for him in the hallway, arms crossed with a small smile on your face as you push off the wall to approach him

"Are you ready to go to bed, darling~?"

Your soft thumb rubbing against his bottom lip would normally be more than enough to coax him into bed, but the realization that you two were alone hit him like ice water

"Not quite, care to join me?"

He doesn't wait for you to answer, guiding you back downstairs and kissing your hand gently as the radio suddenly bursts to life

A love song plays softly on it, quiet so as not to wake up everyone else in the hotel but just loud enough for the two of you

You let your husband pull you against him, hugging his neck and leaning on him, taking in his scent as you savor the moment

The two of you sway together slowly, just listening to the music and enjoying the time alone together before it gets interrupted

Alastor presses his lips to your forehead and you can't help but nuzzle closer, the two of you sharing a loving look

"Mm... I've missed this...~"

He spins you lazily before pulling you back into his arms, one arm squeezing around your waist while his lips once again find your wrist

"My darling~ I've missed you~"

You laugh quietly and steal a kiss from your husband, pressing close and reaching up to play with his hair

You two are so caught up in each other that you don't notice the time go by or the fact that you're being watched

Curious eyes peek out at you two, hushed whispers and giggles dropping down from the railings as you two blissfully dance together below

You glance up before locking eyes with your husband, smiling as you reach up to pet a fuzzy ear

"I believe we're being watched~"

He hums and spins you again, tilting his head to look up at your audience, a wicked grin on his face

"Ah ah ah~ Peeping Toms will be subjected to a most unsavory punishment~"

There's a small squeak, the scrambling of footsteps, and suddenly, you two are alone again. Alastor pulling you against him and kissing your neck

"Now~ Where were we~?"

I hope you like it~

#hazbin hotel x reader #alastor hazbin hotel x reader #alastor hazbin x reader #alastor x reader #hazbin x reader

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lustnhim · 3 months

Text

დ︎ “poor thing.” — dom! elvis x fem! reader დ︎

note: requested / warnings: MDNI, virgin reader, innocence kink, legal age gap, fingering, p in v sex, no protection, elvis makes you taste yourself, praise and slight degrading, slight humiliation, pwp, religious stuff. / summary: elvis catches you grinding on his pillow.

Your body rutted against his pillow, the cotton fabric of your panties colliding with the satin pillowcase, desperate for any more friction you gripped the front, pushing the pillow upwards onto yourself. Breathing heavily as the heat between your legs only grew stronger, your mind foggy from the overwhelming arousal. You had never ever done something like this, something so dirty, so sinful. The cross hung between your neck, moving in unison with your thrusts, you gripped it gently in your hand, almost on the verge of tears. It was so wrong, but felt so good. You tried to hurry, but you knew it wouldn’t be long before your parents noticed your absence from the backyard, before they would ask Elvis if he had seen their daughter– Your mind drifted shamefully to Elvis, your movement becoming more desperate. His strong hands, his carefully tousled hair, his pretty eyes, his laugh, his smile. God.

As you mindlessly continued to grind on the pillow, chasing your orgasm. Your heart stopped when you heard the soft creak of the bedroom door opening and the gentle thud of boots hitting the floor. You pulled the pillow out from under you quickly, tossing it across the bed. Trembling, you clung to the cross around your neck, your eyes wide and fearful, there standing in the doorway was an obviously amused Elvis. You choked back tears as you tried to speak, only small noises coming out. “You like that pilla’ honey?” He drawled and you bit your lip, trying not to cry. He had seen you, but you already knew that. It was impossible he didn't. "Please don't be mad," you whispered, your voice trembling with fear.”D-don’t tell my parents-” You cried out, your voice weak and shaking. He walked towards you, his footsteps creaking on the wooden floor. The air around you thickened with fear as he drew near. “I won’t say nothin’-” Elvis coos, coming down to sit on the bed with you. Chuckling softly as he looked at the pillow. “You should know better, than ta’ do that, honey,” Elvis says, picking up your hands and holding them gently. “The good lord says self-pleasure’s a sin…especially if you’re lusting over somethin’,” Elvis says, causing you to break down a bit. Tears fell down your face as he tsked, moving one hand off yours and to your face, wiping a few tears off with his thumb.

Your gaze moved to the floor, you couldn’t bear to look him in his eyes, his pretty blue eyes…You shook your head in embarrassment and shame, the tears having yet to slow. Elvis's hand cradled your cheek, his touch gentle and understanding. "Don't cry, honey," he whispered, his breath warm against your skin. "Look at me." He whispered, raising your head and looking at him you pouted. When your eyes met him, he gave you a reassuring smile. "I won't tell your parents," He said, taking his hands off your face and wrapping them around your waist, pulling you into a hug. You rested your head gently against his chest, a few stray tears falling onto his chest. “But you ain’t ‘sposed to do that…you need someone to help you,” Elvis said, grabbing your legs and pulling them onto his lap, allowing you to wrap your legs around him. “H-how..?” You asked, your face still red from crying. “Well honey, a man can make ya feel just as good…” He says, his hands running through your hair. “Really?”

You ask, and Elvis nods. “Mhm, that’s right Angel.” Elvis's lips pressed against your forehead, a tender gesture that sent shivers down your spine. "You gotta trust me," he whispered, guiding your hands off his chest to between your legs. "Can you touch there fa’ me?" He asks, his tone gentle. Nodding hesitantly, you slowly brought your hands down, your fingers along your panties, you could feel your wetness through the fabric. A blush bloomed on your cheeks, your eyes downcast as you began to rub your clit. Elvis's breath hitched, his eyes darkening with desire. “That how you usually do it?” Elvis asked, his hands resting on your hips. You look up at him, your face flushed, “I don’t- I don’t really do it..” You say, biting your lip out of embarrassment.

“Well, lemme try this,” Elvis suggests, replacing your hand with his, causing you to let out a breathy groan. Elvis massaged your clit, your back arching gently as his fingers worked. You felt him stop and you groaned out in disappointment. "Don’t worry, we’re just gonna take these off real quick, honey,” he said, noticing your disappointment. You nodded, your eyes fluttering shut, as you worked your body to get them off. “So pretty…” Elvis cooed, running his finger across your slit. You whimpered out as he began to work, rubbing your clit gently before taking a finger and gently putting it inside. “Ah!” You groaned, the feeling completely foreign to you. “Calm down, honey…Don’t want anyone to hear us..” He says, moving his finger in and out gently, allowing you to adjust. “So tight..” He groaned, slipping in another finger. Covering your mouth you moaned into your hand, trying to keep your eyes closed. Elvis pumped in and out in a slow rhythm. "See, a man can make it better, can't he?" he teased, his thumb continuing to apply pressure to your swollen clit. You leaned into his touch, your muffled moans growing louder. "You're such a filthy little slut," Elvis praised, his grip tightening on your hips. "Imagine what your parents would think?" His words sent shivers down your spine, and you felt a sensation growing in your stomach. Pulling your hand off your mouth you cried, “M’ gonna c-cum..” You stammered, your heart racing as you felt your orgasm nearing. "Beg for me to make you cum, angel." You whimpered, your cheeks hot with embarrassment and arousal. "Please... m-make me cum, Elvis..." you begged, your voice breathless. Elvis smirked, his pace picking up. "Keep going honey," he demanded. "P-please, please Elvis, m-make me cum!" you cried out, your body arching into his hands. Elvis chuckled, his fingers increasing their pace. The room filled with your moans as he brought you closer and closer to your climax. "That's it, baby, cum for me," he encouraged. You whimpered as your climax coated his fingers, feeling the high overtake your body as he withdrew his fingers. Your eyes stayed closed as you felt him shuffle beneath you. “Open your mouth, baby.” He murmured, as you opened your mouth lazily, feeling him gently put the two fingers on your tongue. “Taste it.” You demanded, opening your eyes you looked at him as you closed your mouth around his fingers, sucking on them before he pulled them out with a small pop. “Fuck..” He groaned, taking one of your hands and pressing against the bulge in his jeans. “Feel that?” He asked, moving your hand along his clothed cock. “That’s all you baby.”

Elvis undid his belt and motioned your hand away, unbuttoning his jeans and pulling them down along with his boxers, his cock freeing itself from the confinement, standing at full attention. "Touch it, baby," he said, his voice thick with lust. You hesitated, unsure of what to really do. "It's okay, Angel," Elvis cooed, guiding your hand to his thick shaft. You wrapped your fingers around him, feeling the veins pulsing beneath the skin. You tentatively began to stroke him, trying to be gentle as you were scared to hurt him. "Little bit harder and faster, honey." he groaned, his fingers digging into the skin of your hip. You obeyed, his moans growing louder as you gripped him a bit harder, your pace quickening. "Doin’ so good…" Elvis praises, bucking into your hand gently. Elvis pushed you farther down onto his lap as you released his cock, “Lean up, baby.” Elvis said as you raised yourself up a bit. He gripped his cock with one hand and lined you up with the other. “This gonna hurt a bit…” He warns as he begins to push you down onto him. Your breathing is ragged as you feel the head of his cock prod your entrance. Pushing you down further you feel his tip pop inside, your back arches as you bury your head in the crook of his neck, tears welling in your eyes. “It’s okay, honey…It’ll be okay.” He coos as he sinks himself into you.

“You’re squeezing me, honey…” He warns as you try to relax. “I-It hurts..” You whine, trying to get used to it. “I know baby…you just gotta relax darling.” He says, running his hand across your back, trying to calm you. Taking a deep breath you relaxed and felt him slide deeper in you, making you cry out. Shushing you gently he stayed still for a moment. "Let me ease you in," he whispers, taking you slow, inch by agonizing inch. "God, you're so tight. You're perfect, baby." Each thrust is slow and deep, designed to stretch you gently, to give you time to adjust. You're nothing but a whimpering mess, your nails digging into his back. "I’ve got you, Angel. Just breathe." His deep voice is a soothing balm, easing your fears and helping you center yourself. Eventually, you find a rhythm. Each thrust is met with a small gasp, his cock filling you completely. .He starts to pick up the pace, his hips moving faster, causing your own body to move in tandem, grinding against his lap. "Fuck, you feel amazing," he moans, his grip tightening on your hips. You could feel your body starting to submit to the pleasure, the pain slowly dissolving in the haze of lust. "Elvis…" You whimpered, your voice breaking as he continued to fuck you. You felt his grip on your hips tightens, his thrusts grow more aggressive, the pace increasing. "You like that, baby?" Elvis grunted between thrusts, your eyes locking with his. "Y-yes, Elvis, please don't stop." You moaned, your voice trembling. Elvis smirked, his eyes filled with lust as he continued to pound into you. The pleasure grew, your body responding to the rhythmic motion. "You feel so fucking good, Angel. I'm gonna cum inside you." He warned, his grip on your hips growing harsh. You cried out, your body trembling as you clung to him. The room was filled with the sounds of flesh colliding, the bed creaking beneath you. He growled, his thrusts becoming more erratic.

Pushing the thoughts of sin from your mind, you focused on the pleasure that was building within you. Elvis's cock filled you, his thrusts growing harder. You could feel the intensity growing, as both of you drew closer to your climax. Your body tensed, the pleasure overwhelming, and then it happened. You screamed, arching into him as an orgasm ripped through your body, your inner muscles clenching around him. "Fuck!!" Elvis roared, his own orgasm hitting him hard, his cock pulsing inside you as thick ropes of cum coated your walls. He held you close, his breathing heavy as he rode out the wave with you. Your vision blurry, you clung to him, the aftershocks of your orgasm still coursing through your veins. You collapsed back onto him, his still half-hard cock slipping out of you.

Exhausted, you lay there with him, both of you trying to catch your breaths. "You're something else, you know that?." He whispered, kissing the top of your head. “Now that honey is God's will…” He said, smiling gently You nodded, too spent to even speak. “We better hurry and get back downstairs, your parents are waitin’ and so is everybody else,” Elvis said, starting to get up but you impulsively grabbed his arm. “You ain’t gonna tell anyone right?” You asked him, scanning his face for any sign of malice. “No honey, I won’t tell.” He said, laying back down on the bed with you, his face gentle. Cupping your face gently he smiled.

“It’s gonna be our little secret.”

my fantasy fr thanks anon for requesting i am so happy 😭🫶

taglist: @hooked-on-elvis @atleastpleasetelephone @lola-1013 @18lkpeters @indiatuck @eptodaytommorowforever @suspiciousmindsxo @tupelomiss @mysteriouslymagicalwolf @myradiaz @i-r-i-n-a-a @elvispresley1956 @sisssygirl @your-nanas-house @generousspirit @joyouswonders @callieselvisobsessed @iminlovewithaustinbutler @eapep @auntbee22 @scarlettlight06 @wildhorseinkansas @elvisiana @spookyeagleflower @ladelinee @jhoneybees @elviswhore69 @sissylittlefeather @dontfeedthebigbadwolf @roxyrosa

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floralcyanide · 9 months

Text

— 𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚜𝚎 𝚗𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝𝚜 (nsfw)

important note: if you don't like rpf (or fanfic about real people), please just scroll past. don't be rude in the reblogs or tags or I will just block you. it costs zero dollars to mind your business and keep scrolling. tom will literally never see this. I will never send it to him. therefore, no one is getting harmed by this. rpf is written by many about many real people and has been for a long time. if you'd like to file a complaint, I'd love to see you say that writing rpf is weird to the Hamilton fandom, the Billy the Kid fandom, the Elvis/ Queen/ Greta Van Fleet/ other bands and singers fandoms, (especially the k pop fandom. I pray you survive if you do.) etc etc. basically, just ignore this if you don't wanna see it. have a good day (:

⌯ pairing: tom blyth / fem!reader

⌯ warnings: mentions of alcohol, consumption of alcohol, mentions of smoking, reader smokes but it isn't explicitly described (can be an ignored detail), eventual smut, penetrative sex, unprotected sex (please protect yourself with strangers), oral sex (f receiving), nipple play, cum eating, fluff if you squint

⌯ word count: 3454

⌯ summary: at your friend's christmas party, you meet tom blyth and there's a strong connection off the bat. after a little too much to drink and a night spent talking, the two of you have an intimate christmas eve together. (based on those nights by bastille.)

⌯ author’s note: I've been so busy that I haven't been able to finish this until today lol and it took ages because I kept getting distracted ((: anyway!! merry christmas and happy hanukkah, I hope everyone enjoys this (: if you don't pls keep it to yourself

divider credit: @arminsumi | @eloquentreverie | @cafekitsune ⌯ masterlist ⌯ taglist form

this fic has been cross posted to ao3.

ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ᴄᴏᴘʏ, ʀᴇᴘʀᴏᴅᴜᴄᴇ, ᴏʀ ᴄʟᴀɪᴍ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋ ᴀs ʏᴏᴜʀs ᴏɴ ᴛᴜᴍʙʟʀ, ᴀᴏ3, ᴡᴀᴛᴛᴘᴀᴅ, ᴏʀ ᴀɴʏ ᴡᴇʙsɪᴛᴇ. ʏᴏᴜ ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ʜᴀᴠᴇ ᴘᴇʀᴍɪssɪᴏɴ ᴛᴏ ᴜsᴇ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋs ɪɴ ᴀɪ ɢᴇɴᴇʀᴀᴛᴏʀs ᴏʀ ᴀɴʏᴛʜɪɴɢ ᴛᴏ ᴅᴏ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴀʀᴛɪғɪᴄɪᴀʟ ɪɴᴛᴇʟʟɪɢᴇɴᴄᴇ. ʏᴏᴜ ᴍᴀʏ ɴᴏᴛ ᴜsᴇ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋs ᴛᴏ sᴇʟʟ ғᴏʀ ᴀs ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴏᴡɴ ᴄʀᴇᴀᴛɪᴏɴ

You’re nursing a glass of half-sipped champagne, trying your best to pay attention to what your friend is saying to you through the pounding music. Being social with them is the least you can do, considering this is their holiday party you’re attending. And they’ve supplied the alcohol that you’ve helped yourself to all night. This is one reason why you can’t focus very well, but there’s another reason, too. You swear you feel eyes from somewhere in the apartment searing into the back of your head. At first, it wasn’t a big deal. But now it’s almost as if you’re scared to move in case someone is watching. Still listening to your friend, you realize you’re unable to look around to find the source. So you push away the sensation the best you can for now. A mutual friend waves at you from across the room where the makeshift bar is. Downing the rest of your champagne, you bid the friend you’re conversing with a quick goodbye for the time being. Hurrying to your friend who beckoned you over, you look at them with a raised brow when their face scrunches up into a giddy smile.

“Why do you look like that?” you ask, carefully eyeballing them.

Your friend chuckles at you, leaning into your ear, “There’s a hot guy back there who has been eyeing you for quite some time.”

Your face contorts into realization. So that’s why you’ve been feeling eyes burning into you. You hesitantly turn around, hoping you aren’t too blatantly obvious in finding who is staring. However, at this point in the night, you aren’t entirely graceful by any means. Your eyes catch onto a brunette man almost immediately, like you’re drawn to one another somehow. The man glances down at his drink before letting his eyes shoot back up to yours, his determined gaze sending goosebumps across your skin. Your friend has been too busy making you a drink to notice the tension but still manages to switch out your empty glass with a full one despite your daze.

“I’ll be right back,” you say just loud enough for your friend to hear over the song blaring through the speakers.

With the alcohol burning in your system, the atmosphere of the apartment seems otherworldly. It’s a fairly glitzy party, so you’re dressed for the occasion. Your outfit highlights your best features, allowing you to have an air of confidence. A kind of confidence you don’t usually carry. The alcohol certainly helps with that. The shimmery lighting bouncing off the walls gives off an ethereal vibe to the apartment. The dim glimmer of the room casts the shadow of the brunette man’s eyelashes onto his cheekbones. The closer you get, the more you notice about him. His aquiline nose, the contour of facial hair on his face, the tasteful and subtle golden hoop in his left ear. You see a small smile stretch across his lips as you approach him.

“I am so sorry if I’m coming off as creepy,” he shouts over the music, laughing to himself, “I promise I don’t mean to. You’re just really attractive.”

You take a moment to let your eyes take in his form as discreetly as possible, noticing his towering height and lean physique. Now that you’re close enough to properly see his face, you note that his eyes shine a hauntingly beautiful shade of icy blue. He takes a moment to study your face as well, waiting with bated breath for your response.

“That means a lot coming from someone who is also attractive. And I thought I felt someone staring,” you jokingly smile at him around a sip of your drink.

“Sorry about that,” the man rubs the back of his neck nervously, “I just never know how to approach without being awkward.”

Butterflies flutter in your stomach at the heavy weight of the brunette’s eyes on yours, your drink burning away any nervousness that had previously lingered.

“I get it,” you match his smile that has yet to wipe off his face, “I’m not the type to come up to someone I find cute. But…” you trail off, taking in the man’s attractiveness, “There’s something about you I can’t put my finger on.”

“Well,” he chuckles at you, bringing his glass to his lips before hesitating, “You’ll figure it out eventually.”

“Oh really?’ you raise your eyebrows, a playful tinge to your voice, “How’s that?”

“Do you smoke?” the man asks.

“Only when I’m drinking,” you chide.

The two of you weave around the other party-goers toward the fire escape, and you snatch the bottle of something from your friend’s hand while passing the bar on the way out. After clambering from the window behind the tall man, who effortlessly climbed out, you take his outstretched hand. Planting your feet on the landing, you watch as the man fishes out a pack of cigarettes and a pack of matches from his back pocket. He looks up at you expectantly, patting the spot on the metal grating next to him.

“I don’t bite,” he jokes, “Not hard, anyway.”

You bite back a snort but sit down anyway. You take a swig of the clear liquid in the bottle you took before offering it to the man with a sour face. He’s in the process of lighting up, the cigarette hanging between his lips casually as he holds a lit match to the end. You watch him do this, and something stirs inside you. He takes a drag before handing the cigarette to you and taking the bottle from your hand.

“You smoke a lot?” you ask him before taking a drag of your own, your eyes not leaving him.

He shrugs, “I picked it up while in college. It’s a bad habit I go back to sometimes.”

“I see,” you say, “I forgot to ask, but what’s your name?”

“Tom,” the brunette says, the cigarette dangling from his lips as he offers a free hand for you to shake. You gently take it.

Despite the chill of the night, Tom’s hand is warm against yours. You both hesitate to pull away, but a shy chuckle shared between the two of you causes a natural break of grip. You continue to smoke and pass the bottle to and from each other, talking about this year’s notable events in your lives. You speak for a while before more personal details begin spilling. Like how much you hate your job and how Tom missed his co-stars from his last project. Or how you both hate being single during the holidays. The more alcohol that’s consumed, the more you discuss your lives. It’s only been an hour or two, but it feels like you’ve known each other forever.

A comfortable silence falls over the two of you. Tom looks over at you, admiring how your cigarette looked so natural in your hand. And how your hair fell perfectly around your face and how you swung your legs back and forth innocently. The corners of Tom’s lips twitch upward as he subtly moves closer to you, his thigh pressing against yours. He thinks you’re quite interesting and pretty- he doesn’t know why you’re still single when you’re such an amazing person.

You feel the roughness of his trousers against your bare thigh as you finish your final cigarette. You swish the remaining contents of the bottle around, deciding that your blurry peripheral vision means it is time to stop drinking. When you turn to offer Tom the rest of the alcohol, he’s facing you already, mere inches away. Your breath hitches as his eyes look into yours. They drop to your lips, and despite your intoxication, you feel giddy in your stomach.

“Can I,” Tom whispers, lifting a hand to your cheek, “Can I kiss you?”

You sit the bottle down on the other side of where you’re sitting, a drunken smile growing on your face, “Of course you can.”

Tom leans in, pressing his lips to yours gently. You inhale sharply through your nose at the intense feeling of electricity between the two of you. You can taste the alcohol on him when you run your tongue across his bottom lip, testing just how far he wants to go. Your hand reaches up and cards through his dark hair, bringing him as close as possible as the kiss becomes more passionate. Tom’s free hand grasps your hip, his thumb digging deeper into your skin the harder you kiss him. Your head swims as he peppers his lips along your jawline and under your ear.

“We should probably go inside,” you pull away reluctantly, but even in your stupor, you don’t want to get carried away and fall off the fire escape.

You struggle to push up the cracked open window, and Tom giggles at you as he effortlessly pushes it open for you. Both of you climb through, and your friend shakes their head at you when your feet land firmly on the floor.

“I had wondered where you ran off to,” they chuckle, “I see you’ve met my friend Tom.”

“Uh, yeah,” you smile, looking up at him as he stands beside you.

Your friend looks closely at the two of you, noticing your bitten lips and Tom’s flushed face, “Now that the party has dwindled down, you guys can chill upstairs where it’s quiet. I have a book collection you two would enjoy.”

“Gotcha,” you nod as they walk away to mingle with other partygoers.

Looking around, you notice the remainder of the gathering is in other parts of the apartment, leaving the living room and upstairs unoccupied. Tom grabs your hand, pulling you away from the kitchen to the hallway leading to the stairs. You pull him into another kiss, Tom giggling at your eagerness as he sways slightly. He walks you backward until you feel your back against the nearby wall. Neither of you would do this on a typical day, but the energy between both of you is so intense. Your hands move underneath his shirt, your cold palms making contact with his warm skin. Tom gasps into the kiss at the contact, and you scoff, pulling away from him and grabbing his hand to drag him up the stairs.

“Careful,” Tom says to you as your legs wobble. Meanwhile, he’s struggling to climb them as well.

After a few minutes of tussling and laughing, the two of you finally reach the second floor.

“So about that book collection,” Tom raises an eyebrow, catching his breath as he grabs you by the hips, bringing you close to him.

“Only if you really want to,” you look up at him, both your and his eyes glazed over.

“I do,” Tom runs his hands along your sides, his gaze heavy on you, “Lead the way.”

You walk ahead of him, pulling him into the guest bedroom, where the books do happen to be stored in a giant bookcase along the wall. String lights around the ceiling give a soft golden glow to the room as you approach the mass of books. Tom closes the door softly as he enters the room, walking up behind you as you trace the spine of one of your favorite books. Tom wraps his arms around you, leaning down to kiss the back of your neck gingerly. You melt into his chest, closing your eyes as he travels down your shoulder. Your dress has an exposed back, and Tom is taking advantage of it as Tom falls to one knee and continues kissing down your body. He delicately unties the silk ribbon holding the two sides of your dress together, pausing before allowing it to fall to the floor.

“Let me know if you want me to stop,” Tom says.

You turn around and walk to the bed, allowing your dress to fall behind you. Sitting down, you motion for Tom to come over to you. His eyes scan your face, avoiding your intricate and deep-colored underwear as he stands up. Tom stands between your slightly parted legs, and you move your hands to the lapels of his black blazer, pushing them open. He discards it from his arms and to the floor before pulling his t-shirt over his head. You try not to ogle at his perfect body, but your hands wander anyway. Up his abdomen and across his chest until you reach his neck, where you pull him down for a heated kiss. Tom lightly pushes you onto the bed, and you move to the pile of pillows to rest your head. He climbs over you, caging you underneath him. Before you can react, Tom pulls your legs up around his waist as he rests his body on yours. His lips hover over yours, his darkened eyes boring into yours much like they did the back of your head earlier in the evening.

“Don’t stop,” you say, crossing your ankles behind Tom’s back.

Tom attacks your neck with hot kisses and soft bites, your hand grasping the back of his head. As his body relaxes into you, his weight presses you against the bed, and you feel how hard he is. You lift your hips to lightly grind into Tom, and his soft bite into your collarbone turns harsh in reaction. He continues downward, slipping his fingers underneath the straps of your bra and sliding them down your shoulders. You arch your back so Tom has the room to unclasp the band and remove the garment from you. He wastes no time resuming his kisses on your sensitive skin, avoiding the areas you desire his kisses most. You gasp when Tom lets his hand brush against your breast, his thumb circling your nipple softly. A small moan leaves your lips, and Tom glances up at you through his lashes to gauge your reaction. He admires how your eyebrows crease momentarily in pleasure, so he circles his thumb again. You moan louder this time, craving his touch without hesitance.

“Please,” you sigh, “Don’t hold back either.”

Tom hums in response before dipping his head down and enveloping your nipple in his mouth, flicking it with his tongue teasingly. He rubs your other nipple with his thumb, simultaneously stimulating you. You whimper, heat from your still buzzed body rushing to your clit. Your hips roll in response, and you’re sure Tom can feel your dampened panties against his chest. He gives your nipple a sharp tug with his teeth before focusing on your needy core. He leaves an open-mouthed kiss on your clothed heat before removing your underwear. Still buzzed from all the alcohol earlier, Tom tries his best to be soft with you despite the pit of desire growing between you. You want him- all of him, and you want it now. And Tom wants you. Before you can speak, Tom’s warm mouth meets your folds, his tongue lapping at your arousal. You squirm from the sudden stimulation, but he stills your hips with his grip. A hand flies to Tom’s mussed-up hair as he plunges his tongue into you, his nose pressing to your clit. He inhales your scent, and it intoxicates him more than alcohol ever could. Shaking his head, Tom’s nose rubs against your clit perfectly as his tongue fucks you. Your whole body is up in flames, your fingers tightening in his hair.

You’re muttering incoherent praises as you ride Tom’s face. He replaces his tongue with two of his fingers, your relaxed wetness allowing him to slip them in easily. They scissor against your fluttering walls as Tom sucks on your bundle of nerves. Your fuzzy mind keeps you from hiding how good his mouth feels on you, and your moans grow louder. His mouth leaves your cunt abruptly before reattaching to yours, silencing you immediately.

“Gotta be quiet,” Tom huffs against your lips, “People are still downstairs, love.”

You wrap your legs around him again, grinding yourself into his still-clothed cock. He’s the one to moan this time, slipping his tongue into your mouth and letting you taste yourself. You unwrap your legs and work to unfasten Tom’s trousers, pushing them down his thighs. He kicks them off the rest of the way, along with his underwear, as he continues to kiss you. You reach down between your bodies and palm Tom’s length, to which he groans into your mouth. You guide his tip to your entrance, allowing him to comfortably push into you. Your hands grasp Tom’s shoulder blades, your nails lightly digging into his skin with every inch that enters you. You whimper in pleasure at him finally being inside you after longing for it all night. Tom bottoms out with a content sigh, also elated at the feeling of you clenching around his length after craving it for so long.

Your chests heave against one another, your forehead pressed to Tom’s. His enticing blue eyes meet yours as he slowly pulls out before slamming his hips against yours. You gasp, arching your back and letting butterflies swarm in your belly when Tom kisses the corner of your mouth. He fucks into you again, slowly building a steady pace. Your lips barely brush against Tom’s as he snaps his body into yours. Your buzz has now faded away, allowing you to feel him entirely sober. He sneaks his hand between you and presses his thumb to your clit, making you hiss at the sudden stimulation. Your head pushes against the pillows, exposing your throat. Tom lets his hand lazily wrap around it, not squeezing but instead holding it as he grazes his teeth on your skin there as he kisses your neck.

“Feel so good around me,” Tom says dazedly, and you feel his eyelashes flutter under your jaw, “So gorgeous.”

Your hand rests in his hair again, gently combing through his locks as he rocks into you faster. His weight on you, his thumb still rubbing your clit, and his hand around your neck seals the deal for you as he plows into that sweet spot inside you.

“Tom,” you moan, “I’m close.”

“Me too, baby. Me too,” he whispers into your skin, leaving soft kisses in contrast to his rough thrusts.

“You feel so good,” you mutter, your chin resting on Tom’s head.

Tom lifts your leg and places it on his shoulder, allowing him to hit a new angle inside you. You bury your face in his hair to deafen the cry that escapes you in response.

“Right there,” you pant, your hands desperately holding onto Tom’s hair as your mouth hangs open in silent pleasure.

Tom breathes heavily into your neck, using all the energy he has left to mercilessly fuck your weeping cunt. You feel your stomach tensing, alerting you of your impending orgasm. Tom chants your name as he firmly presses his thumb into your clit, causing the tightly wound knot inside you to snap undone. Your thigh clamps into the side of Tom’s neck while the other shakes against the bare skin of his sweat sheened back. The feeling of your tight pussy pulsating around him makes Tom explode inside you with a gasp. You grip Tom’s hair desperately as you milk him of everything he has, his thumb still not letting up on your clit. Another orgasm washes over you suddenly. This time it makes you convulse, your cunt gushing around Tom and dripping down your thighs as you cry out in pleasure.

“Fuck,” you gasp for air, Tom pulling out of you.

He moves down to your pussy, cleaning up the cum spilling from you with a hungry tongue. You’re so sensitive that your thighs slam into the sides of Tom’s head. He suckles your clit for a moment for good measure, making you writhe underneath him. You pathetically whimper when he pulls away, finally catching your breath. Tom returns to his previous position on top of you, his face buried in your neck. He wraps his arms around you, softly stroking your skin.

“Wow,” you giggle, letting your nose dig into Tom’s brunette hair.

“Yeah,” he smirks, “You’re amazing.”

“That’s all you, I’m afraid,” you say.

Tom hums, “I disagree, sweetheart.”

He rolls over momentarily, lifting the duvet for you to climb under. He embraces you again, holding you close as if you’ll disappear like some sort of dream. You wrap your arms around Tom’s, smiling as he presses his nose to your hair.

“I still haven’t put my finger on it,” you say after a moment of silence.

“Hmm? On what?”

“That something about you.”

“I guess you’ll have to stick around and find out, then.”

“Deal,” you chuckle, “Merry Christmas, Tom.”

“Merry Christmas, beautiful.”

taglist:

@barbaraelaine @devotedly-sassy @nowitsmissing @arzua10 @screamqueenpink

#tom blyth #tom blyth x reader #tom blyth x reader smut #tom blyth smut #tom blyth x you #tom blyth x you smut #floralcyanide writes #tbosas #billy the kid #tom blyth fanfiction #tom blyth fic #tom blyth fanfic

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undying-love · 1 month

Text

John and Paul on each other: A Compilation

John:

"He [Paul] looked like Elvis. I dug him."

"I'm like everyone else, Harry. I fell for Paul's looks."

"..an old, estranged fiancée of mine called Paul."

"Paul...you're so well-built." (X)

"Groups like this are normally not friends. They’re just four people out there thrown together to make an act. There may be two of them who sort of go off and are friends, you know...Strictly platonic of course."

"Oh, I've had him, he's no good."

"I was riding on a boat called Paul, and now I'm riding on a boat called Yoko."

"I've compared to a marriage a million times and I hope it's… understandable. For people that aren't married. Or any relationship. It was a LONG relationship. It started many, many years before the American public, or the English public for that matter, knew us. Paul and I were together since he was 15, I was 16."

"Nobody ever said anything about Paul's having a spell on me or my having one on Paul! They never thought that was abnormal in those days, two guys together, or four guys together! Why didn't they ever say, "How come those guys don't split up? I mean, what's going on backstage? What is this Paul and John business? How can they be together so long?"

"Well, Paul had met Linda before [the Apple press conference], you see. I mean, there were quite a few women he'd obviously had that I never knew about. God knows when he was doing it, but he must have been doing it."

"I don’t even think about Paul unless somebody brings him up. Or if some song comes out or something happens, they’re in the newspaper. I don’t know why everyone doesn’t just leave him alone—I haven’t really seen him in ten years. I can talk about him forever because I know all about him, but you see, there’s nothing much to say."

[Studio chatter] Paul: I will be overpowering this time. John: Oh good. I like it when you’re brutal. (X)

Paul:

"John was really my only male friend, if only because of proximity."

"[While playing live] John was to the left or to the right of me, so I never got to sort of see him perform so much. Except in the film [Get Back]. And there he is in massive closeup. I can study everything about him.”

“I’ll just sit around and hug him forever, because that’s the depth of my feeling for him."

"And I would often sketch John when we worked together, often without him knowing it. It was so easy doing John because he had glasses, those sideboards...and that long, aquiline nose."

"When I painted him recently, I found myself saying, ‘How did his lips go?"

"I can still see John now: checked shirt, slightly curly hair…I remember thinking, ‘He looks good - I wouldn’t mind being in a group with him."

"James reminds me very much of John in many ways: he's got beautiful hands. John had beautiful hands."

"If I'm going to see a face in a painting, it's highly likely to be his."

"I still remember his beery old breath when I first met him that day. But I soon came to love that beery old breath. And I loved John."

"I’m often thinking of him. I dream of him."

"Delicious boy, delicious broth of a boy."

"John and I used to hitch-hike places together. It was something that we did together quite a lot; cementing our friendship, getting to know our feelings, our dreams, our ambitions together. It was a very wonderful period. I look back on it with great fondness. I particularly remember John and I would be squeezed in our little single bed."

"There's a song I do called Here Today which is specifically written for John. That sometimes catches me out. I realize I'm telling this man that I love him and it's like I'm publicly declaring this in front of all these people I don't know. I sometimes wonder what I'm doing."

"We are individuals— all different. John married Yoko, I married Linda. We didn’t marry the same girl.”

"Please Please Me was a John idea. John liked the double meaning of “please”. Yeah, “please” is, you know, pretty please. “Please have intercourse with me. So, pretty please, have intercourse with me, I beg you to have intercourse with me.” He liked that, and I liked that he liked that."

"[John] was a wild and woolly genius who it was my pleasure to work with, walk with, talk with and occasionally sleep with. "

Q: If John Lennon could come back for a day, how would you spend it with him? Paul: In bed.

"Then also [me and John] were like married, so you got the bitterness. It’s not a woman scorned this time, it’s two men scorned — probably even worse. And I had to make way for Yoko. My relationship with John could not have remained as it was and Yoko feel secure.”

"I think really what it was, really all that happened was that John fell in love. With Yoko. And so, with such a powerful alliance like that, it was difficult for him to still be seeing me. It was as if I was another girlfriend, almost. Our relationship was a strong relationship. And if he was to start a new relationship, he had to put this other one away."

#mclennon #megapost #beatles #paul mccartney #john lennon #mclennon evidence

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mahg-stuff · 8 months

Note

Hi. Can I request a big daddy elvis (late 70s) in which he and female reader are having an argument and he says something really mean so she heads into the bedroom and cries. He goes into the bedroom to apologize and then make out. Smut, detailed if you can and also some aftercare. Thanks

Tysm for the request! Enjoy it lovee! ♡

Kiss'n make it better

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Word count: 6.4k (quick) Summary: Bde grows stuffy as he witnesses you playing a card game with the guys, but not only that, you are in your delicate bed attire while you do it. Pairing: (1976)bd!elvis x afab!reader Warnings: 18+!, smut, p in v, elvis finally fully takes the reader, cherry cream pie (if you know what I mean...), kissing whilst bodily fluids are present on the mouth, tasting of bodily fluids, playing around with spit?oral fixation?, mention of elvis’ medications/pill use & dr. nick (im sorry), elvis’ standards for his women, toxicity, once again elvis being volatile, use of the word daddy, & of course fluff + baby talk!!

───

AN: Hello there! I was off and on while writing this since I was eager to let it out soon bc I felt I’d left the anon hanging for too long so, certain areas may seem rushed/lack context but I did my best with the details! I hope it’s not a bother, but overall I enjoyed writing this little piece. Anywho, my dear anon I hope you are pleased with this! And to the rest of you loves, enjoy! ♡ (keep the requests coming!!😚)

- pls excuse any errors, your girl got tired half way through cleaning it up 🥹💋

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Elvis was, as of now, getting his day-by-day measurements of meds from Dr. Nick within the master bathroom in his room. In the meantime, you held up in his bed, twiddling your thumbs as you waited, you both had just woken up. He would always make sure to do it in a different room, given that you had eventually told him that you didn't enjoy seeing everything they put in him. When you witnessed firsthand how much his body had to ingest, you expressed your concern, but he waved you off, saying everything was always under control.

At some point, you stopped showing concern upfront to him because it had resulted in the first argument between the two of you, however, you'd unconsciously always be pinching away at your arm's flesh as you worried about him. You were still relatively new to his lifestyle, but you were gradually adapting.

Things were taking quite a while, so you began wandering around his room. You'd only been together for a few months now, so you were still trying to settle in. Elvis asked you to move in right away, and you soon found out he didn't like being left alone. As you moved around the room, you were still in your night slip. It was a look that he found especially appealing. You tip-toed barefoot to the door, peeking outside, and then back over to the closed bathroom door in the bedroom.

You heard them mumbling inside and decided, Why not go downstairs?

Making your entrance to the living room and taking in more glances of the house you hadn't paid much attention to before, your eyes shot up towards the voices in the kitchen. As you peered into the kitchen, you saw two of his guys sitting there chatting with some cards in their hands. They took notice of your presence and glanced over at you, their eyes lingering on your attire. Going quite unnoticed by you.

One clears his throat.

"Hey there, y/n, ya need anythin'?"

You shrug, not really knowing what you need or want, but feeling a bit restless.

"No, just bored waiting on El," you reply absentmindedly.

One of the guys chuckles and nudges the other, whispering something to him. You catch a snippet of their conversation and wonder if they're talking about you.

"What's so funny?" you ask, tilting your head in confusion.

The guys exchange glances before one of them speaks up, struggling to find the right words.

"Oh, nothin', just...you know...we were just talkin' 'bout how...um...how fashionable you look today."

You give them a skeptical look, not fully convinced by their compliment.

"Really? They're just my pajamas, the first thing I found in the closet last night," you admit with a sheepish shrug as you look down at your delicate garments.

They both burst into laughter, causing you to giggle along. The guys exchange knowing glances, struggling to contain their amusement at your naivety. Being new in Elvis' life and feeling a bit clueless around the guys sometimes—I mean, you'd never been surrounded by so many men before, so it was uncommon for you to catch their brash ways.

One of the guys begins talking, "Since you're bored, why don't ya join us? We're playin’ a card game."

You happily agree and take a seat at the table. They explain the rules to you as one of them shuffles the deck of cards. The game soon progresses, and the guys bring out their competitive sides, teasing each other and making playful taunts. Even though they might’ve been acting a little abruptly, it was clear that they were enjoying themselves. Amidst the banter, one of the guys turns to you with a mischievous grin.

"Hey, watch out, I wouldn't want ya to get too confused with all these cards. It might be a bit too much for a girl to handle," he says snarkily.

You titter and shake your head, clearly letting the comment go over and past your head.

"I can handle."

You say it humbly.

***

Elvis, grumbling his way downstairs to look where you'd wandered off, stops at the bottom of the stairway as he hears his precious girl's laughter from the kitchen. He stalks quietly towards the doorframe of the kitchen, there he sees you sitting pretty with his men. He scans your body until he gets to your bare, wriggling sooties that are dangled just above the ground in the chair. Elvis clenches his fists, feeling his irritation rise at the sight of you playing with the guys.

As he watches, he can't help but notice the unkempt yet alluring exterior you possess. Your tousled hair and streaked makeup from the night before only seem to enhance your beauty, giving you a tempting appeal that could captivate those around you. He had set certain expectations for you, and seeing you in this compromising situation with the guys confirms that you were not fulfilling them. He storms in, his footsteps echoing through the room as he confronts the scene before him.

"Darlin', you know bedder than to be gallivantin' 'round in your night attire with these fellas." He narrows his eyes, his southern accent thickening as he speaks.

Your head quickly turned to that familiar gruff voice, his appearance matching the roughness in his tone. There he stood, portly and only in a silk robe, a region of dark hair trailing down his navel from the open slit and his luscious sideburns framing his face. His noir hair, slightly disheveled from a restless night, completed the picture of a man who demanded attentiveness. As you caught his gaze, you could see a mix of disappointment and fret in his eyes. You instinctively straightened up, feeling a twinge of shame creeping into your conscience for some reason as you looked down at your attire and then back at him.

"Well, I thought it'd be okay. I mean, I do live here now. Shouldn't I be comfortable, El?" You voiced cunningly, not purposefully trying to provoke him but unable to resist the urge to justify yourself.

But there was an inimitable standard he held you to, one that required impeccability and grace.

"Goddammit!" He started.

"No man's woman should be 'round men in such whorey showin' garments. 'Specially not mah women!"

You blinked in surprise, taken aback by his strong reaction. The atmosphere in the room suddenly grew tense, and you could feel the weight of his disapproval pressing down on you.

His pride was unexpected for you.

As you searched for words to respond, his intense gaze never wavered, making you feel insecure and exposed.

"W-Well, the guys think otherwise!" You spoke aloud as your throat tightened. Well, at least you thought they didn't find your attire whorey—a word Elvis had introduced to you when he saw an outfit you picked out while shopping with him.

Elvis glared over at them, and they both quickly stood up from their positions, some cards falling off the table as they did so.

"That right?"

"N-No Ep, 'course not." They stood there longer than they should have.

"The hell y'all still doin' standin' here, for?! Go on an' do sumn then." Elvis spoke sternly as he pointed, his robe falling more open with his motion.

The guys hastily scampered away, not wanting to further incur Elvis' anger. You look at Elvis, noticing his neglected appearance and glazed eyes. Nervous, you place your cards down, your eyebrows puckering in disarray.

"What was that, Elvis?" you ask softly, but your voice is filled with slight perplexity.

"They didn't do anything." You squeaked.

"Didn't do anyhtin'." He scoffed under his breath. He shook his head and met your gaze again.

"Matter uh fact, the hell were you thinkin' wonderin' off?" His words were a bit slurred.

"Know all yur attention should be on me, 'n only me." Elvis' words hung in the air, heavy with a mix of fury and vulnerability.

You could sense an ache behind his harsh tone, and it struck a chord within you.

"Elvis." You delicately said his name, the concern evident in your voice.

But before you could continue, he raised his voice again, his drooping eyes glaring.

"Kept mah eyes off ya for just uh moment, den I find you playin' bimbo wit' 'em fellas."

Your heart sank as Elvis' words echoed in the room.

This wasn't your Elvis.

Your bottom lip quivered as you stood up from your seat, covering your face with one hand as you moved to leave the room.

"The hell are ya goin'." He says this as he tries to stop you, but you pull away forcefully and hastily walk upstairs.

Elvis hears your faint sniffle from the hallway, followed by the sound of a door slamming shut. He paced around, mumbling words to himself as he held his forehead, trying to make sense of what just happened.

It was clear that his head wasn't in the right place.

***

As Elvis continued to pace, he barely grasps the impact of his words and considers the hurt he may have caused.

"Baby," he muffles to himself as he looks around.

He rubs his eyes and begins to walk towards the staircase.

"Baby." He muffled again, as if he were whispering a plea into the empty space.

He reaches the top step and hesitates, unsure of whether to knock on the closed bedroom door or barge right in.

"B-Baby, a-a-ah wannas come in," he says gently in his gruff voice.

"W-Wanna come in." Elvis stands in front of the door, his voice quivering with desperation.

His babyish tone reveals the depth of his regret. Your ears perk up on the other side of the door, straining to catch every word. You can sense the turmoil in his voice, the vulnerability, and the longing.

It's a side of him you were weak for, and it tugs at your heartstrings.

Slowly, you rise from the bed, your footsteps barely audible as you make your way to the door. With a shaken hand, you turn the knob and open the door, revealing Elvis standing there, his eyes filled with a mix of hope and fear. He takes in your appearance—your tear stained cheeks, red, fuzzy nose, and the slight puffiness of your eyes. His face softens with concern, and without a word, he pulls you into a tight embrace. Your face buried into his exposed, hairy, warm torso through the opening of his robe.

Feverishly, he brings his large palms up to either side of your face and pulls your face upwards. Taking in your babyfaced features. Your damp lashes flutter as you meet his gaze.

"A-Ah made my little 'un cry." he mumbles as he grazes the pad of his thumb under your eye.

"Y-Ya know ah ain't meant what I said back dere," he continues, his voice filled with veracity.

"M-My temper… mah words came out wrong. A-Ah, wudnit wha I meant—", he trails off just before he wavers off, trying to focus his eyesight all of a sudden.

As his eyelids droop, a gentle sigh escapes his lips. You can see the drowsiness etched across his weathered face, the lines deepening in the dim light of the room.

It always tortured you when you saw him like this.

You noticed it was one of the many effects the pills had on him, before starting him up, they'd slow him down first.

Even with his abrupt weariness, you recognize that sincerity in his voice and the sorryness in his slumped eyes. You reached out and took his wrist, wrapping your fingers around it, offering a silent reassurance that you understood what he was trying to get out.

You cared deeply for him, so forgiving him always came in a hurry for you.

***

As you both stood there, the grogginess began to fade, and his eyes soon became more and more focused. He took a deep breath, his chest rising and falling with each inhale and exhale. He gave your cheek a gentle squeeze. His gaze lingered on your face as he continued to graze his thumb gently on your cheek.

"Let me m-make it up t-ta mah sweet girl, hmm." He says it so softly with that drawl of his.

As you listen to his soft voice, filled with tenderness and warmth, it becomes evident that he was speaking to you with the same affection one would reserve for a baby. One of his traits you had gotten used to and valued thoroughly. Your cheeks fill with warmth. He holds you by the waist, turning you over, and fully enters the bedroom with you. Shutting the door, he then leads you to the bed, helping you sit down on the edge. Elvis sits down beside you, and you feel the bed sink from his weight.

He turns your face over to him, and he places a hand on your cheek. He begins caressing your face ever so lightly, as if you were made of spun glass.

"Kiss'n make it better." He mumbles pouty-lippedly as his thumb runs over your lips.

You stare into his hollow eyes, nodding, as he begins to push his thumb into your small mouth. Politely opening your mouth for him, the taste of his skin lingers on your tongue as his thumb explores the contours of your mouth. You both hold each other's gaze, and you lightly suckle on it, watching his eyes light up at your action. He gently brings his thumb out, a string of saliva dribbling down your lip. Elvis smudges your saliva all around your soft pout, making your lips appear glossy, then brings his thumb up to his lips to suck off your slobber. As you both continue your intimate encounter, the air around you seems to grow heavier. His fingers then work their way down your torso, tracing your dainty body. With a famished mutter, he slides his hand beneath your slip, teasingly grazing over your soft, small chest, giving one of your nipples a tug. You can't help but whimper at his action.

And want grows between you, feeling a surge of heat run from your face down to your toes.

"C'mere, let ol’ daddy kiss ya," he leans in, capturing your lips in a fervent, persistent kiss.

The taste of him fills your palate as he slips his tongue inside your pretty mouth. You find yourself feeling fuzzy in the rush of the moment, willingly giving into his actions. His large hands begin gripping your small waist, pulling you closer as he deepens the kiss. His supple kisses had always been tender and gentle, but this one was different. It left you almost breathless. His touch was heavy, and you found yourself slipping in the heat of the moment. Your slip rises upwards at his action, revealing the pair of tiny matching ruffled shorts.

He breaks the kiss for a moment, his pillowy lips glistening. His eyes lock onto yours—a look of want. Elvis' hefty hand goes down to your upper thigh, and he grazes the fabric of your shorts.

"Take 'em off, 'ittle." He rasps quietly, the bass of his voice sending shivers down your spine.

Your breath hitches with a half-laugh. "Kay." You gently get off the bed and look over at him as he keenly stares at you with his still-glazed-over eyes.

A look you may never get used to.

You began pulling down at the hem of your waistband until the fabric hit the ground, being completely bare underneath.

While the length of your slip fell just enough to cover your most delicate parts, he whispered, "Lemme see her."

His voice is playful as he motions for you to come closer.

You take a step toward him. He reaches out and gently tugs at your hip, his thumb rubbing your hipbone, sending a muzzy feeling to your belly. With his other hand, he reaches over to the hem of the fabric, pulling it up—he throbs between his legs.

From his view, he could see all of you. Your narrow hips and thighs and the smallest patch of curls that covered your pussy. The little crease in the middle—so sweet, you were puffy, and sticky just from his kisses. You looked over at his garb—his robe now fully undone from all his movement, also nothing underneath. You took in as the section of his body hair went from his pudgy chest to his soft belly, which hung just barely over his waistline, and then turned into thick curls at his mound. His corpulent and hard, leaky cock presently standing tall just for you against his paunch. You gazed at the ridge of his pretty, purplish, rosy tip weep as it peeked from his foreskin.

Suddenly, you jolted as you felt his thumb at your swollen clit, a splotchy pink filling your cheeks. His touch was gentle yet firm, his fingers perfectly caressing your sensitive nub. You couldn't help but whimper, the lovely sound escaping your pursed lips as your hips instinctively bucked against his digit.

"Ain't nothin' more purdy than seein' you all pink 'n warmed up. Could spend all day thumbin' away at that ‘dorable clit uh yours." He babbled as he applied more pressure and quickened the pace of his movements.

Making you even more rosy.

You could feel the heat building between your legs, the ache for release becoming almost unbearable. Every swipe of his thumb seemed to bring you closer to the edge, pushing you towards the brink of ecstasy. Your back began to arch as you leaned into his touch, but just as you were almost there, he pulled his thumb away. You let out a frustrated whimper, desperately wanting him to continue, then you went to cup yourself until he swiftly stopped you.

"Dun cha get greedy on me now," he whispered, his voice coated with directness and a hint of humor.

You couldn't help but pout, your need for satisfaction overwhelmed your senses. You ached. He had never stopped on the brink of your release like this before. His hand left your trembling body, resulting in you feeling empty and yearning for more. You watched as he brought his thumb to his lips, tasting the remnants of your sweet desire, a sly smile playing on his lips. The rosiness in your cheeks seems to grow darker with his action.

"Ah can't have ya fallin' apart jus yet," he murmured, his voice low.

You looked at him doe-eyed as you clamped your legs, standing there.

"Little 'un." Elvis whispered as he reached out for a hand.

"Idenit time for ya to blossom," he continued as he pulled you closer, his warm breath hitting your cheek. "'ittle flower of yours needs ta bloom." Elvis gave you a nod as he spoke and guided you.

"Bloom," you repeated as you held his strong gaze, and he began helping you lay on the bed.

"Mhm, correct baby." He cooed as he helped you lie down.

When you finally understood what he had said, your heart seemed to race. Staring up at the mirror above you on the ceiling, you took in as you laid delicately on his silk bedding. You began recalling the past nights and days of glancing up at yourself while Elvis rutted against your tummy when he cuddled you until he came, or when he'd only do little more than barely let the tip of his cock pierce your tiny hole—but never more than that.

Now, he indicated that he wanted to take things further. You were both a little afraid and excited by it. Even so, you were genuinely more willing than ever. It made you rub your legs together thinking about it. You would constantly pester him for more, but he would tell you that it wasn't the right moment and that he knew when it would be. Thinking of his words from earlier, you thought maybe this would be his way of making it better after he'd lashed out. Maybe, he wanted to make it up to you by fully fulfilling your needs. You beamed at the thought.

Lost in your little mind, you were interrupted as you felt the bed sink next to you.

There he lay, still in his loose, silky garb, fully open, his hairy manliness laying solid against his belly while his balls were perfectly nestled below his shaft. You looked over at him as he began lying on his side to face you. His jawline was soft and his cheeks full, adding to the suppleness of his overall appearance. His overgrown sideburns adding to his rugged allure. The word ‘mesmerizing’ repeating in your head.

"Rest on yur side f'me, baby." You began turning over for him, but before you could, he stopped you—he saw the mild unease in your eyes.

His hand cradled the side of your cheek as your eyes stared into his. However, he couldn't help but smile, thinking your muddled face looked adorable.

"Hers dudden needs to be afraid." He whispered softly and patted your head now.

With each light pat on your head, his warmth enveloped you, making you feel comforted in his presence. You smiled back at him softly, it sort of surprised you when he caught it.

"H-Her knows." You whispered back in the same way he spoke to you.

It was really rubbing off on you, for sure.

He leaned in, placed a gentle kiss on your cheek, and then motioned for you to rest on your side. Such a baby, you thought as you gave his chubby face one last glance. As you shifted onto your side, he scooted in closer, so he was spooning you, his round stomach pressing into you. You felt the hardness of his length up against your lower back, feeling the warmth radiating off as it throbbed against the thin fabric of your slip. You couldn't deny the growing ache between your legs, yearning for his touch and for him to take control.

Elvis began lifting the hem of your garment, exposing your bare, pretty, round backside to him. His hand rested on the curve of your hip, his touch both firm and gentle. A shiver ran down your spine as his palm traced delicate patterns on your skin, sending those funny feelings through your body. You felt him move your leg a bit, so your pussy lips were peeking out between your thighs from his view. You felt him pulsing along your rear now, slick already forming at your petals. You couldn't help but arch your back, offering yourself to him completely. You heard him snicker behind you, bringing a blush to your cheeks. Elvis grabbed his thick shaft in one hand and brought it between your thighs, your slick and his precum mixing into one as he rubbed the ridge of his cock along your lips.

Eagerly, you try to slide down, so his tip pushes up towards your entrance.

"Careful, too big for yuh to take so fast," he warns as you bare down on his leaky tip.

You move back unconsciously, and the head of cock grazes at your swollen clit causing you to shudder.

Trying again, you huff, "Won't fit."

Elvis is quite amused by this, and he tittered as he leaned into your neck for a quick peck.

You feel his warm breath against your skin as he whispers, "Baby, needa take time t'stretch ya out properly."

He trails his fingers along your inner thighs, teasingly rubbing circles on your sensitive heat. Your body reacts, flushing with chills and impatience. You can feel yourself clenching at nothing. Elvis raises the leg you weren’t resting on with his other arm, and you blush at how vulnerable you seem in the pose. He moves the hand he was massaging you with toward your mouth. You understood what he meant, of course. Carefully, you used your hand to hold the back of his large one as you carefully spit into it. You watch as Elvis gruffly giggles at your compliance as you gaze up at the mirror, his eyes peeking over you as he watches his hand lower back down.

Bringing his hand back down to your throbbing core, now slick with both your juices and saliva. His fingers glide along your folds, applying just the right amount of pressure to make you gasp. As his thumb brushes against your clit, a shudder runs through your body, aching for more. You arch your back, silently begging for his touch to become more demanding, more intense. His finger begins to pry at your snug cunt, slipping inside with ease from all your wetness. You feel him begin to inch a second finger inside of you, stretching you further and filling you completely. The sensation is overwhelming, his fingers deeper than you were used to. He would only nag at your hole in the past. You whimper as he starts to move his fingers in and out—a slow and deliberate rhythm. Your hips instinctively press down on his hand, seeking more friction and more of his lengthy fingers. You can't help but squeal, the sound escaping your lips as he curls his fingers inside you, hitting a sweet spot that makes your whole body shiver. You try closing your legs, but he still holds one up. He feels your leg shift and hears your cute squeal. Elvis lets go, letting your leg rest down, with a snicker as he looks over at you with a mischievous grin. Soothing his palm up and down against your thigh, he leaned to kiss your upper arm.

"Ya kay, 'ittle?" he whispered in his southern drawl.

You nod, unable to form words, as the sensations overwhelm you.

Slowly, he removes his fingers from inside you, leaving you aching for more. But before you have a chance to say anything, Elvis is already positioning himself between your legs from behind. He catches a glimpse of your sweet little gaping hole that was dripping with want. He begins rubbing the ridge of his cock along your pussy, you feel his chest vibrate behind you from a low groan. His tip begins to ease in as he coos in your ear slowly. Without delay, he plunges inside you halfway, his lip curling at your tightness. You wail as he bucks his hips further, and you try to get away due to the harsh feeling of the big stretch. He carefully moves the arm he was resting on to go under your waist to hold you from your firm stomach as he hitches up the rest of your babydoll. Pulling you towards him, his gut pressing into you more.

Taking a glance at your clenched fists and shut eyes, he grumbles, "S'okay baby, breathe."

You gulp down and gasp, "'S't-too much."

"Needa bit more little 'un." He croons and brings his empty hand to swipe at your clit from the front in order to break you in with more ease.

With a final buck of his hips, he fills your sweet cunt completely, taking him all in. You cry out at the forceful pinch, your hand gripping at his hand that held you from your tummy. Elvis grunts loudly when you clench at his cock.

"M-Mah god, baby, let loose f'me. You'll break me off wit' all tha squeezin'." He blurts out, his voice strained with pleasure and urgency.

Your body trembles against his, and he continues to swipe at your tender nub, wanting to bring any type of pleasure to you right now. Elvis glanced up at your face, a tear dribbling down from the corner of yours. He leaned in, kissing it away. Gently opening your glossy eyes, you look up towards the mirror, taking in the way you were both at last bound. His robe was still hanging loosely on his body, and his hair was tousled as he pressed his face into your nape. As you gripped him with your hand, you felt him grab hold of it and start pulling it down to your heat. Placing it between your thighs, where you and him connected, you traced his weighty balls over with your small hand. Indicating he was practically balls deep inside your dear little hole.

"Yuh feel him inside ya." He whispered airily into your nape, the bass of his voice rumbling against your back.

You blushed at his words, feeling a mixture of shyness and alertness. You nodded, unable to find the words to respond, as you focused on the sensation of him filling you completely. His hand remained on yours, guiding your movements as you continued to explore the intimate connection between your bodies. Your digits now covered by both yours and his fluids. Elvis let his hand loose and moved it over to your waist, both of his arms now holding you in a spoon position. As the initial sting began to fade and pleasure took its place, you began moving, slowly your movements against him became more confident. Each motion became braver as desire continued to build between you both. Your whimpers got louder, and you felt the hairs on your nape stand as you heard a little huff come from Elvis behind you. His grip on your waist tightens slightly, his breath warm against your skin as he buries his face into the crook of your neck. Pulling himself out slightly and then bucking into you again, causing you to let out a high-pitched moan as you experienced the overwhelming sensation for the first time. A dance of pain and pleasure intertwined within you. You were sure a trickle of blood had stained the satin sheets beneath you both as you felt the warm wetness building between you two. You were too busy taking in the feeling of his hardness inside you, he noticed as he peeked up at the mirror and saw you lying there with your small mouth gaping and your hand buried between your thighs where he had left it.

"Touch yuh'self sweetheart." He grunted into your ear as he strained himself from moving his hips too harshly, his grip on your waist still firmly in his arms.

You complied, your fingers danced over your sensitive folds, slick with arousal, and maybe more, until they found your swollen clit. As you began to rub circles around it, your moans grew louder and more dire, echoing through the room. The mirror gave you a clear view of your own flushed face, your eyes filled with desire and vulnerability. The way he watched you, his dark eyes smoldering with lust, only fueled the fire burning within you. Every movement caused the robe to sway gently, revealing hints of his luscious curves beneath. As your fingers continued their rhythmic dance upon your clit, you couldn't help but imagine his hands—those strong and skilled hands—taking over. The thought of his touch, his fingers tracing the same patterns you were now creating, made your toes wriggle. Your breath hitched as you quivered as the warm, fuzzy feeling in your lower abdomen became more and more unbearable. His thrusts became more vigorous, matching the intensity building within you. The room was filled with the symphony of your moans mingling with his low grunts. As he maintained his relentless pace, you surrendered yourself completely to what your body was feeling. The tension in your body coiled tighter and tighter until, finally, with one strong thrust, you unraveled into a state of euphoria on his cock. Your body trembled with sheer bliss as he continued to move inside you, he watched as your pretty face contorted and your blush deepened.

"O-Oh god." You whined loudly, tightening around him, and the throbbing of his girthy cock became even more pronounced.

His grip on your hips tightened as he thrust into you with renewed vigor, looking for his own release. Each movement sent shockwaves of pleasure through your body, making you moan prettily but uncontrollably. He glared over at you, bringing one hand up to grasp your jaw, his thumb once again finding its way into your mouth.

"N-Not so loud baby. Ain't want no 'un else hearin' ya gone like this, only me." He spoke between each heavy breath, sounding imposing.

You nodded, unable to say any words.

His thumb pressed against your tongue, silencing your moans as he continued to pound into you relentlessly. The room was filled with the sound of skin pushing against skin, blending with your muffled cries of pleasure. You felt your ears grow hotter as his grunts turned into gruff whines, it made you wonder how such a man could make such pretty sounds. He pressed into you harder, the suppleness of his hair-filled belly now squished into your lower back. Elvis' grip on you toughens under you, his fingers digging into the skin of your tummy as he pulls you closer, seeking an even deeper connection. His other hand now filled with your drool. Watching as his lip was now curled, you couldn't tear your gaze away from his beautiful expression slipping into that o-face of his through the mirror. With one final thrust, he let out a garish whine, emptying himself inside of your now-tamed pussy, filling you completely with his essence. You couldn't help but muffle a sob and bite down on his thumb as you felt his scorching seed paint your walls.

He was still so far buried inside you as he let out heavy sighs. Elvis slowly began to withdraw his upper body from you, looking down at the slight space between his belly and your back, shifting his hips slowly to pull out, the base of his cock streaked with your pure blood. He paused as he felt your tongue pushing at his thumb and looked over, your eyes were watery.

He withdrew his large hand, you turned your head over to him, the position putting a little discomfort on your neck as he was still spooning you. You were in awe of his blushed face and matted, lush hair sticking to his forehead from all his sweat. Bringing the hand you still held between your thighs over to hold the side of his face, your eyes widened as you focused on the redness of your blood on your digits, which had now smudged a bit on his cheek. Elvis took in your expression and glanced over at your small hand against his cheek, he snickered. Grabbing ahold of it, he brought it over to his mouth, giving it a soft kiss and even a subtle lick. Your purity now smudged along his soft lips.

"A fine 'ittle flower 'as bloomed," he mumbled as he leaned his face into you.

Your heart raced as his lips pushed against yours gently. The taste of his kiss, a mixture of your blood and his own essence, sent warmth down your spine. He steadily pulled away, enjoying the fact that your lips were stained right along with his.

It left you brain-scattered and your hind eyes in a fuzzy state.

You were brought back when you felt him pulling his practically flaccid cock out of you. You winced as a dull ache shot through your body. Quickly sensing soreness, but a satisfied, weak smile tugged at the corners of your lips, knowing he'd finally gone completely with you. You stiffened as the warmth of his spew slowly oozed out of your snug, bruised hole.

Elvis' view was a delight, he thought, watching as the scarlet milky mess glazed your puffed-up pussy lips, running down your inner thigh. Slumbering on your back now, your babydoll still pushed up but remained covering your small chest.

But before you could turn to fully face him, you panicked as he stood up from the bed abruptly.

"E-Elvis," you sputtered out, even reaching your hand out for him.

He ignored your plea as he hurriedly walked towards the bathroom. His footsteps echoed in the silence, and you suddenly felt anxious. Moments later, he emerged with a damp towel in his hand. As he approached you, he saw the look on your face as you laid on your back.

"Hey, what's wit' da worried eyes baby," he asked gently while gently leaning over at you.

You still felt the pang of fret in your chest as Elvis leaned over you, his concern evident in his eyes.

"I-I just got scared. Thought you w-were leaving," you admitted, your voice shaky.

Elvis' expression softened, and he reached out to brush a strand of hair off your face.

"Aww, don' worry, sweetheart. Am here now, ain't goin' anywhere," he reassured you, his voice smooth and reassuring in his drawl.

His touch was comforting, and you felt yourself relax under his calm presence.

As his hand lingered on your cheek, he spoke again. "Ah's needs ta clean my little girl now, kay."

You nodded as Elvis stood in front of you while you lay splayed on the bed. He softly lifted your legs and began to gently wipe away the sticky residue, his touch sending shivers down your spine. His sunken eyes met yours briefly, a glimmer of tenderness, before he focused back on cleaning you up. You flinched as he swiped at your tender bud, and he couldn't help but grin. Finishing up, he tossed the used rag aside. Elvis had always been thorough in his caretaking when it came to you. As he gently began tugging your delicate top down to cover you, he paused and scrunched it up, revealing your small, supple chest and your soft pink meek nipples.

Leaning down to give both of your petite mounds delicate kisses, "Almost forgot 'bout 'em sweet lil' things," he muffled as he kissed your warm skin.

You found yourself giggling as you ran a hand through his tousled-up hair. One of the things he had made you become—a giggler.

He stood back up and fixed your babydoll fully now as he smiled at you.

"All done, my little 'un," he whispered softly, his voice filled with pride and adoration.

Collapsing beside you, his hand tenderly stroked your hair, whispering, "We'll get tha rest uh us cleaned up later."

He then continued as you moved over to fully face him, his robe now imperfectly tied. "Needa hold ya darlin’, ah know how emotional you puny things can be after experiencin' this kinda thing."

You snuggled closer to him with a giggle, feeling a sense of warmth and comfort in his embrace. The tubbiness of him being all the more cozy. As you both basked in each other, you felt the palm of his hand smooth down at your lower abdomen.

"Yuh sore?" His voice held that babyish tone.

"Bits," you mumbled as your cheek rested against him, feeling the rise and fall of his chest with each breath.

His hand continued to caress your belly, his touch gentle. “Love her lots,” he suddenly blurted and leaned in to give your forehead a kiss.

You gazed up at him, leaning in to kiss the fullness between his neck and chin. “Loves daddy lots too,” you whispered as you followed up with another kiss before you snuggled into him again.

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