#forever thinking about that particular hair style of his

[maxz-b]

this is part 4 out of ???

[kquil]

POLY MARAUDERS | HEROES IN TATTOOS ⏤FIRST TATTOO

REQUEST. : I'd love to see the reader finally deciding to get something tattooed,  something sentimental.  All 6(soon to be 7) I have all have special meaning. 💖💖 —@twilightlover2007

G. : fluff ; modern au ; muggle au ; tattoo artist james ; tattoo artist sirius ; piercer remus ; comfort ; james comforts you ; the boys are soft for you ; you get your first tattoo ; you overcome your fear of needles

LENGTH : 1.6k

“Can you do it?” you ask as your nerves persuade you into fiddling with the hem of your long sleeved shirt.

“Of course we can, sweetheart,” Sirius reassures, pulling you into his side by the shoulders and giving you a comforting squeeze, “but are you sure you want it there?” he asks after pulling away to face you towards him and trace his thumb over your desired placement - just under your breasts and against your ribcage. 

From beside Remus, James nods in agreement and holds onto your small sketch of the tattoo you want, “the ribcage is one of the most painful places to get a tattoo,” the statement makes you gulp nervously but James’s soft smile stops your nerves from going too crazy, “numbing cream will have to be your best friend, then,”

Smiling, you nod happily. You wanted to keep your tattoo hidden and just for yourself because it’s so meaningful; you didn’t want it in areas that could easily be seen so you were happy that you didn’t need to change the location. 

“Just make sure that you apply the numbing cream on the area, at least, 45 minutes before your tattoo appointment,” Remus adds thoughtfully, “you want to make sure that it penetrates deep enough so that it does its job properly,” compliant, you nod and persuade them that you would make sure to do so, “good girl,” Remus smiles and a heat flourishes across your cheeks. Getting praised by Remus always felt extra special; your nerves were very sensitive to his compliments. 

Sirius then steps beside James, places his arm around his friend’s shoulders and leans down to examine your sketch. It was a meaningful tattoo that you wanted and drew a sketch for so you felt quite bashful to have it examined so closely by someone like Sirius, who was quite eccentric and very particular about aesthetics. 

“Quite the artist, aren’t you, doll?” Sirius commends as the two other men nod along, already having examined your sketch. 

“It’s very cute,” James coos fondly. 

“But we can tell it’s very important to you so you need to pick the right artist who you think will execute the work best,” Remus smirks as a visible spark of competitiveness appears in James and Sirius’s eyes. 

It took a few days of thinking and chats but you concluded that James would be the best one to give you your first tattoo. Both Sirius and James were incredibly talented artists but James’s art style was one that you felt best suited your sketch. 

Following your decision, James expressed his clear elation as Sirius pouted like a sulking child. Thankfully, Remus was there to cheer him up with some comforting pats to his shoulder. Seeing Sirius’s usually vivacious demeanour fizzle out into something more reserved made you feel some guilt but he didn’t let you dwell on the feeling for long. 

“It’s alright, darling,” he whispers into your hair, his embrace warm and comforting and one that you happily reciprocate with an apologetic tightness, “I just wanted it so much to be me,” 

“I’m sorry, Siri,” 

“No worries,” he kisses your temple as he’s grown accustomed to doing, in order to comfort you, “I’m just being childish anyway, what matters most is that you’re happy with your first tattoo,” he pulls away to admire your sweet face and give you a reassuring smile, “it’s going to be on your skin forever, after all,”

It took a few sessions with James, where you helped him polish up the design of your tattoo, before you could set an official appointment to get your tattoo done. You didn’t know if the nerves you were feeling were of fear or excitement - sometimes the two different emotions felt the same. The confusion only made you freeze up in the doorway for longer. Remus had led you to where James was preparing the private room for your tattoo. 

“Did you remember to put on the numbing cream we gave you?” Remus asks, his voice as soft and warm as the hand he had comfortingly placed on the curve of your hip. 

“Y-yeah…” you breathe, leaning into the body of the tall brunette as you both stare at James sanitising the tattoo bed, he then proceeds to effortlessly set up some lighting apparatus before organising his tools and inks. 

“James is going to take good care of you, dove, don’t worry,” Remus reassures, unprompted, “James, Sirius and I would never do anything to hurt you, you know that, right?” He looks down when you don’t respond and gently lifts your chin up with his fingers to meet his eyes, “it’s going to be okay,”

All you can muster for Remus is a timid smile before James calls you over to the tattoo bed. The tall brunette beside you, gives you one last smile before softly urging you forward with a hand on your lower back. 

“There’s our angel,” James grins and pulls you into his arms, “are you ready for your first tattoo?” Your following silence is deafening but prompts James to begin petting the back of your head soothingly. There’s a noticeable shift in the way he holds you, where his touch becomes gentler and more careful. Rather than addressing your obvious rising anxiety of the situation, James directs your attention to his equipment. He slowly pulls you over to sit on his thigh as he sits in his tech chair, “Do you want to take a closer look at my equipment?” you don’t say anything but you offer your hands for him to place his tattoo needle on. 

“It’s kinda heavy,” you mumble under your breath after subconsciously leaning into James’s figure. On his lap, you tuck your head under his chin and continue staring down and examining the tattoo equipment he entrusted to you. 

“Yeah, it has to hold the ink and a small motor as well, that's why,” he explains, “it’s pretty cool right?” he asks softly and smiles when he feels you timidly nod against his neck, “it gives you one hell of an ache in your wrist though,” he jokes and feels the mood lighten when you giggle softly with him. He could squeeze you from how adorable you are in his arms but resists to patiently wait for you to calm down. 

“...I’m sorry…”

“Don’t be,” he kisses the crown of your head and keeps his face pressed into your hair, taking in the smell of your delicious shampoo, “take all the time you need, angel,”

For several minutes, James carefully talks you through the equipment and the process he goes through when he does tattoos until you’re finally comfortable enough to lay down on the table and lift up your loose shirt. 

“I think I’m ready now…” you whisper and give a brave smile as James leans down to press a kiss to your temple. 

“I’m proud of you,” he whispers against your skin before he pulls away and pulls on a pair of latex gloves. He then proceeds to sanitise your skin before applying the printed stencil he created of the final design you guys worked on together. But then the door opens. 

“You haven’t started yet?” Sirius asks, suddenly walking into the room as he takes off his black gloves and quickly disposes of them in a nearby bin, “how are you doing, sweetheart?” He pulls up a spare tech chair to sit by your head as James continues to go through the necessary prep before equipping his needle. 

“I’m doing well,” you answer and Sirius smiles warmly at you, lovingly petting your hair, “James helped me calm down first so everything is a little delayed,” 

“Did James take good care of you?” Your following nod and affirming hum is enough to persuade Sirius, who looks over at James, “He better continue doing a good job then,” his statement makes you smile and so does James’s following chuckle. 

“No need to get overprotective pads, you know she’s in good hands,” James peels off the stencil and softly warns you that he’s about to begin. It isn’t until you nod before James starts tracing the stencil across your skin with his tattoo needle. A few moments go by where the small, running motor is the only sound that fills the room and you’re astounded by how well the numbing cream is working. 

“Are you okay, sweets?” Sirius asks gently, his voice and concern is very comforting.

“Yeah, I don’t feel anything,” you giggle, the sound of which makes the two men smile. 

“Good thing that your tattoo is simple and small, it’ll be over before you know it,” James comments and makes you breathe a sigh of relief. 

Time quickly passes and, just like James said, it was soon over, leaving you to wonder why you had been so nervous in the first place. Like clockwork, James and Sirius cleaned and tidied up the equipment together before the latter of the two had to excuse himself to meet with a client about their design. It’s not soon after Sirius left with a kiss to your knuckles that Remus stepped into the room with a small complimentary tub of moisturiser for you to take home. 

“It’s pretty,” Remus compliments when you finally lift up your shirt to show him the tattoo, “good job James, as usual,” James winks back at you two before Remus turns his full attention to you again, “and well done for overcoming your fear. That was very brave of you, dove,” his comment has you beaming and hugging the soft brunette around the waist.    

“Thank you,”

A/N : this was such a sweet request, i hope i did it justice. sorry i took so long, i was overthinking it but just bit the bullet and just went for it. i also left the description of the tattoo vague so that anything you lovelies want to have as your first tattoo in this series, is completely up to you. enjoy the read my loves!

NAVI. | HEROES IN TATOOS SERIES

TAGLIST : @susyelectra @fangirlninja67 @pagesfalling @thepunisherfrankcastle @axeofwars @imarimon @justkiyomi @in-love-with-4-marauders @chicken-taco-burrito @valencia-rou @feast0nmeee @lestat-whore @hvmxjjk @twilightlover2007 @diaryofabiwoman @woohoney @celestialfantasiess @willbedecided @lovelyygirl8 @iiirhiane-g @ghostgardn @melinajenkins @astonishment @until-i-found-you @corp0real @sageskisses444 @celestcies @lovelydoveval @inlovewithremusjohnlupin @calums-betch @futurecorps3 @hihihi1112 @simpingforthe80s @neeezza101 @yrluvjane

[peterspinkrobe]

Miguel, Noir, Peter B x A new spider recruit (F)

Rating/Tags: M for MATURE. 18+. Adult content henceforth. 🔞Three p’s and one v. P in V. Fellatio. Some spanks. Assplay (no anal penetration). Voyeurism. Light bondage. Cunnilingus. Overstimulation (it’s 3 v 1 y’all idk what else is expected). Bodily fluids. Dirty talk makes up most of the dialogue. The dudes do some stuff too. ❤️ Aftercare ❤️ one shot

A/N: I got the prompt from this tweet and wanted to give back to the artist who requested it. There is Spanish in this fic - the artist helped me with the translations soooo much as well and I am forever grateful.😭 English translations at the end. This is my first smut piece, okay? So go easy on me. There is a smidge of plot if you’re really looking for it - I know I put it somewhere around here…

Summary: New recruit for the Spider Society finds herself in a sticky situation with three mentor spideys.

Word Count: 4,660

I’m gonna stfu now and let you read some filth. As always, let me know what you think and thanks for reading.

A dim, neon orange glow emitted from various screens in the large office. Sounds of connecting flesh and obscenities bounce off the walls and echo towards the high ceilings. The new recruit for the elite Spider Society found herself tangled in a particularly intense training that definitely wasn’t in the recruit handbook.

This particular lady spider, from her own universe, traveled through space and time to become a better protector of her neighborhood. She wasn’t sure how these exercises could possibly translate into her line of work saving lives, but she knew exactly how she’d gotten into this position. Well, one of many she’d already been put into.

It was her silly quips. The downfall of most in the Spider Society. The new spider showed a lot of progress in the short time they’d been recruited and had been tasked to go on a mission with the big boys.

It was easy work, the more matured spiders swinging and kicking ass effortlessly. Their personalities shown through in their fighting styles

Peter was loud about it. Of course. Screaming war cries and hitting hard, but holding back. Using insults to hit ‘em where it really hurts a villain: their ego. Miguel seemed cat-like, pouncing and clawing. An occasional roar of frustration would burst through his gritted fangs. Noir was stealthy, and silently snuck up on unsuspecting suspects. His dialect from past times confused the new spider more than Miguel’s Spanish, but it sounded ‘snazzy’ either way.

After wrapping up the mission, the four of them exchanged normal post-fight banter. It was one phrase that made the men stop in their attacks:

I could take all three of you at once.

She’d inadvertently added a qualification to her spoken resume and they were putting it to the test.

The room spun around the dizzy spider trying to steady herself on the large couch cushions. It was in vain, though, for she wasn't going anywhere the hands on her body didn’t make her go. She was stuffed and didn’t think she could hold anything else inside her. Even air. She resorted to the shallow gasps that her body involuntarily released in brief moments of reprieve and breathing through her nose when possible. She moans a string of different names barely recognizable through the mumbling and spit coming out her mouth. Not to mention Peter B’s cock slipping between her lips, a lazy, languid pump into her mouth as his hand caresses her hair. He’d pull out when she tapped on his thigh twice or he wanted to see the strands of saliva droop from his swollen tip connecting to her puffy lips.

“Hey,” Peter’s voice is sweet in juxtaposition to their lewd position, “look at me”. His other hand cupped her chin and pulled her face to look up at him. His slender fingers moving to the side of her face, rubbing his thumb on her cheek. His baby blues watching as her face pushes into his palm from the force behind her.

“Our little spider looks so good like this, doesn’t she?” Peter B was a talker in bed. Duh. The man was a talker in general. His words, no matter how filthy, came out casual and playful. “Taking the both of us so well in her pretty holes.” The vulgarity mixed with the free and easy tone made her pussy squeeze around Miguel’s cock, causing a quick strike on her bent over ass. The stinging cheek was immediately pawed by his large hands.

“Mhmm..” Miguel grunted, not much for words in the bedroom. His sexual language involved less talking and more touching, spanking, and grabbing. “Está apretadito…riquísimo…” When he did speak, he slipped into his native tongue because his mind slipped too. No time for translation as he drove himself into her, hands grabbing her hips. “me vuelves loco” he panted.

His large hands grabbed her ass, making her moan again up at Peter. He thumbs her wet folds and grips tightly - watching as she stretched out on his thick dick with each thrust of his hips. One of his thumbs ghosts across her other puckered hole, rubbing her own slick across the tight entrance.

“Te voy a comer ese culo.” Before she can form any sort of protest, Miguel pulls out without warning. The sudden emptiness made her clench on air and push back against him as a complaint. His hands never left her body and he let her push herself back onto his tongue. She cried out in surprise and pleasure as Miguel hardened his tongue and licked into her dripping pussy. The tongue was quickly replaced by two calloused fingers that pumped and spread inside her already fucked out cunt. His lips latched around the tight pucker of her ass, tongue swirling. Her breathing ragged as the little spider moaned against the bushel of hair above Peter’s still long cock. All she could do was press her face against his belly and arch her back.

“Ooooh, no, you don’t get to have all the fun, Miggy.” Peter chuckled, fucking chuckled down at her as he continued petting her hair. He slipped his thumb into her mouth and he smiled sweetly when she wrapped her lips around the finger. She couldn’t help the giggle that bubbled out her throat as she slobbered on his inquisitive thumb that rubbed the inside of her cheek.

The mouth attached to her released only to growl against her sticky flesh, “Shut up, Peter.”

The giggle upset Miguel; here he was eating ass and she was paying more attention to the skinny nerd at her front. He added another finger and grazed his sharp teeth against the sensitive skin. Shivers shot up her spine and she rolled her eyes in pleasure and annoyance.

Only one coherent thought formed in her hazed mind: the grown ass man we’re even competitive in the bedroom.

Peter didn’t shut up.

“Hey, Noir,” Peter casually tossed the words to the side but kept his gaze on the flushed face and closed eyes that pressed against him. His heavy lidded gaze grazed along the curvy body beneath him as the spider in training rode Miguel’s tongue. He brushed away sweaty strands stuck to her forehead so he could see her pretty lashes. “You ever gonna get in on this? Or are you just going to keep watching from over there?”

Shame had almost escaped the woman stuck between getting rocked and a hard place. She’d taken the tip of the chatterbox’s cock back into her mouth and that silenced him momentarily.

She looked over at the black-clad figure she’d almost forgotten with her lips pouting over the redden head of his friend. He hadn’t made a sound this entire time. Embarrassment eked into her already flushed cheeks as she imagined what a scandalous sight she was to the spider from days gone by.

The man seated on the chair opposite the couch was dangling his arms over bent knees. Noir was still masked, one of the few Spidermen to actually try and maintain a secret identity, and the charcoal colored mask looked from one end of her to the other. He was staring intently at her face at one point, the protruding eye sections reflecting their bodies moving on the couch.

Noir then approached the spread spider and adjusted the protruding lenses of his masked eyes as if they were gasses. His head tilted in intrigue as he heard the deplorable slurping sounds from both ends of her body.

He brings his head to hers, Peter’s cock is inches from his face but he ignores it to intently watch the way her lips wrap around the other Spider-Man’s fingers.

“How ya doin’, buttercup?” His husky voice breathes into her ear. She can’t muster a response other than a shaky nod of her bobbing head and sputters of mewls. The swiping of Miguel’s tongue and approving praise from Peter took up too much of her mind space to formulate any sort of actual reply.

Noir sighed, almost like he was unsatisfied with the reply. He stood and put his hands on hips.

“Fellas… call me old fashioned, but” he glanced at the two men who seemingly ignored the grayscale spider’s intrusion, “You’re both doing this wrong if you’re really tryin’ to shake the shingles off this shack.”

The weird wording made the bundle of naked spiders freeze and lift an eyebrow in unison. Miguel pulled away from her ass and pussy and Peter did the same with the fingers in her mouth. She would’ve buckled had she not been pancaked.

“What the hell do you mean I’m doing this wrong?” Miguel and Peter both responded, offended. The breathless spider couldn’t see the exchange of winks and grins that happened because they were still smushed against Peter’s tummy.

“Hands, legs.” Noir instructed and the trapped spider found themselves pulled up and pressed firmly against Miguel’s chest with their hands clasped together. His large hand grabbed her ankle, a single claw grazing the thin skin there. Another muscled arm snaked around her waist and held her. His strong back supported their bodies against the plush arm of the couch.

She groaned when she realized Peter had slipped a web shooter on and had used them to hold her hands together. Another quick spurt from the smirking man made her arms stick loosely to her chest, just in case. He was always so careful.

But she didn’t mind being confined as long as someone would fucking touch her.

A tiny yelp makes Peter giggle in his relaxed position sitting on the couch head propped against the wall- taking a momentarily step back, but not taking his eyes off the spider caught up in their web.

Noir had snuck in front of her and had his face inches from hers. When Miguel felt her flinch in his grip he huffed a chuckle.

“You both were forgetting to press buttons.” Noir’s fingers cupped the underside of her exposed tits and he flicked his gloved thumbs over her nipples. He was maneuvering skillfully around the bound limbs.

More moans came out, she was finally getting these new set of hands on her. He went to pull up his mask and she kept her eyes glued to his face to finally see what he looked like.

Slate-gray skin was beginning to peek from the curling of the mask, but he shined a wicked gray and pearly white grin when he kept the mask just above his nose. He’d only exposed his jawline and lips, but it was enough to make the little spider’s breath hitch.

His unmasked mouth wrapped around one of her perked nipples and kept pinching the other between his fingers. The gentle sucking sounds made her quiver.

Noir then moved so he was crouched right between her legs, covered eyes taking in the sight of her drip. She noticed his passionate gaze even behind the mask and spread her legs to allow a better view. This earned a grunt in her ear from Miguel who pressed his still hard cock into her back, a soft coo from Peter watching who continued petting her hair, and an approving smile from the striking inky gradient enigma of a man before her.

“Oh, what a piece of honey…” Noir continued in his near century old slang. He took a gloved finger and ran it along the gooey length of her folds, the delicious stripe of friction on her pussy lips made her buck her hips. He stuck the wet finger in his mouth and sucked the leather. “Taste good, sweet spider. Makes me wanna take a bite out of your pretty donut.”

Her eyes roll back at the flattery and Noir speaks again, addressing the two other men, “You forgot a crucial component, pals… the rose bud.”

His tongue instantly found the flower he mentioned and she saw stars. Her clit had been untouched at this point. Not that everything up to this point hadn’t been fucking amazing, but the way the skillful mouth below her expertly tongued and suckled her neglected clitoris made her writhe and wail in ecstasy.

Thank god Lyla had been disconnected because there could be no recording of the blubbering mess the tasty spider became with Noir’s mouth attached to her pussy.

With all the teasing, pounding, and sucking beforehand, the stimulation of the bud of nerves between her legs brought her close to the edge within moments. Noir looked back up at her face and his tongue poked out his sinful smile. He could tell by the way she started thrashing in Miguel’s hold that she was about to crack her marbles. He lapped at her drooling pussy eagerly.

Miguel hissed through gritted teeth at his painfully hard cock. He situated his large body by squatting on the leg closest to the corner of the couch while the other planted firmly on the ground. He grabbed himself and lined it up with the flailing spider in his arm. His other hand came from its grip around her ankle just to grip on her hip. “Fuck, hold still.” Miguel’s tip pushed against her trying to find the spider’s slick slit. It grazed Noir’s chin and neck but he didn’t seem to mind. In fact, he grabbed Miguel’s dick and guided it into that sticky honey pot. He focused more on the clit as Miguel pumped inside her. Miguel’s moans were loud in her ear with the combined sensation of the tight wetness and Noir’s tongue ghosting the top and sides of his driving dick.

Peter watched in awe, his mouth agape at the alluring sight below him. His hand had a hard hold around the base of his cock, as he squeezed more precum seeped out his blushed tip. He moaned at the sight of Miguel’s cock drilling into the tight pussy and the sounds from the fucked spider as Noir’s mouth encased her clit. Much like Noir, Peter’s tingles were telling him she was close.

“You want to cum for us? You should…” Peter asked and suggested in his playful tone. His oral affixation was apparent as he thumbed the inside of her mouth again. “You’ve been such a good girl.”

“Quiero que te vengas en mi verga, arñita”, Miguel grumbled into her ear.

“Mmhmmm.” Noir tried to concur, but his mouth was a little busy. The vibration of his voice against her clit and all three men urging her brought her to that high place.

She cried out their names in no particular order just whatever came out first. She gyrated her shaking body down on Miguel’s pounding cock and Noir’s tongue. Miguel’s movements became feverish causing Noir to pull back, giving her clit some space to breathe after the oral abuse. Peter moved his hand to Miguel’s hair and pulled his head back to look at his face, reminding him to go easy on that pretty push. It was hard for he was nearing his own orgasm, but he slowed to a more delicate pace. The convulsion of her cumming cunt around his cock was too good to pull out of just yet, but Noir spoke out breathlessly.

“I gotta get a taste of this cookie, boss.” He pleaded with the man who currently had her in his grasp. She should’ve hated how they were talking like she wasn’t there at times but she was riding her high and couldn’t be bothered to bicker. She stared through half-lidded, glazed over eyes as Noir pawed the tent in his pants.

“Did you stretch her out for me?” Noir asked as he undid his pants buckle and released a grayish cock as long as Peter’s and as thick as Miguel’s. She moaned as she was coming down from the clouds, eagerly wanting to try this new toy.

Miguel huffed and quickly wrapped his arms under her knees and lifted her effortlessly. His cock rudely pulled out of her and he spread her legs so that Noir could get a better view of the contracting, messy hole. Peter craned his neck so he could see as well.

“Such a pretty pussy…” he said to no one in particular from his perch. He had started pumping his cock as he watched her orgasm.

Noir admired the site up close and licked the fucked out hole causing the spider to shake. She was blushing from all the eyes and attention on her in her exposed state, but they were all looking in amazement.

She pouted and when Noir saw both sets of her puckered lips he wasted no time placing the thick tip of his uncut cock at the gaping entrance of her gooey hole.

“Now, sweetheart, you’re gonna have to tell me if it’s too much, but I think you can handle it. You’re going to do that again for me.” He pushed himself into her full flush easily with the help of Miguel’s propped arms holding her up. Her mouth formed a silent scream and she tossed her head back when he picked up the speed.

Miguel moaned and his still hard cock pressed against her ass cheeks in this position. “Que culo..” he mused as he slid his cock to line up with the wet folds of her cheeks. He started slowly fucking between her cheeks until his tip hit Noir’s pumping cock.

“Oh, fuuuck, baby girl..” Peter admired her body as he picked up the pace on his own strokes. “Can you take another? Please?”

He begged as he brought his cock back to her lips, biting his bottom lip hard and groaning when, instead of replying, she desperately took him into her mouth, eager to be completely full.

Peter thought he had the best seat in the house with his dick in her mouth and the sight of Noir and Miguel ravaging her body. He talked more and more as he got closer to cumming.

“You’re taking us so good. Such a good girl. You should see yourself. Look so sexy when you’re filled up.”

Noir kept his speed and force consistent when he surprised the spider again by rubbing his thumb just above her clit. He captured her lips with his own and she breathed her heavy moans into his mouth.

She was back to struggling for air with most of her holes plugged. Miguel’s thickness running between her legs offered a new feeling of friction while Noir’s length was taking some getting used to. Peter didn’t move his hips in caution of overwhelming the overloaded woman taking him in her mouth so well.

“Cum for me. Again.” He gently urged. The three other spiders all moaned in unison at Noir’s word for they were all on their brink. He chuckled, “all of you. Let’s fill this baby up.”

The idea of filling her pussy up with his load made Miguel’s hips snap quickly until he was spilling all over her ass, pussy lips, and leaking onto Noir. The thumb on her clit and the sounds of the man below her brought her back over the edge again. The pornographic imagery, sounds of a heated Miguel, the alluring control Noir had over them, and the split spider’s orgasms brought him to his own climax. He tried to pull out her mouth but she wrapped her lips around him tightly and he cried out as he came. He was talking again in seconds.

“Fuuuck, so sexy.. taking it all in like that.”

Noir took it all in with a grin. Feeling Miguel’s sipperly spunk mixing with the delicious drool he was driving into. A little bit of Peter B’s butter spilled out of the split spider’s mouth and Noir swiped at it with his gloved thumb before presenting it to her to suck on. The sounds only encouraged him to pump harder. “I wanna paint this cabin, doll. Can I?”

Noir tapped gently on the bundle of nerves that were on fire with the question, causing the spread spider to spaz in the hold of the three others.

The spent spider thought nothing, only felt. Sensation was the only presence in her consciousness as Miguel slid his slowly shrinking dick between her thighs and plump cheeks. Peter’s praise echoed from one ear to the other making her blush more than the promiscuous positions she’d been put in this evening.

He had her right where he wanted her - how he’d been picturing her since he met her for the first time: Whimpering and shaking on the verge of implosion.

Noir’s imagination painted an inky image of the next time with this ripe peach. His grayscale vision pictured them alone in all the ways he wanted her. The thought nearly made him burst and paint her insides instead.

Until he pulled out and jerked himself twice before cumming all over the spent spider’s tummy and tits. His audience of three all moaned with him as sticky ropes shot over the smooth skin of her abdomen.

Senseless spider still had her legs hiked up and she hung her head to the side towards Peter who was massaging her scalp and murmuring sweet nothings towards the group. Miguel’s heavy breathing was coming down as he gently lowered her onto the couch and easily slipped from behind her, regretting it the moment her body wasn't pressed against his own. Miguel used one of his claws and cut through Peter’s webbing and carefully pulled it from her, placing her arms by her sides.

Noir marveled at her in this state. Fucked out and smothered with lovin’. He helped Miguel lower her legs and eased their bent and spread joints. He rubbed along the length of her leg and said something to his boss unheard to the mewling spider on the couch.

They left the room shortly after, but she didn’t notice.

Only aware of the aching she felt… not from the intense session, those stings wouldn’t be felt until tomorrow, but from the emptiness inside her and lack of body support she had just moments ago. She had leaned on their strong scaffolding entirely and now slumped from their missing support. Peter’s hand in her hair kept her grounded as she

Her eyes blinked open slowly and she was greeted with those baby blues smiling at her as Peter had perched himself beside her on the floor.

“You really did so good.” He examined her glistening face and body in its afterquakes of orgasm.

Puffy lips redden around the edges, matted hair, slumped body: what a site to behold. He felt lucky as he brought up his previously discarded shirt to clean her chest and belly. She started to push it away, the disheveled man didn’t have many clean clothes to begin with, but he simply leaned to kiss her forehead and continued to wipe up some of the mess made.

“You took such good care of us, sweetie,” his voice was slightly raspy but still flirtatious, “it’s our turn to take care of you.”

~~~~~~~~~~

When Miguel and Noir returned to the room, they were met with the sight of a lightly sleeping spider and their counterpart stroking her hair and smiling at her.

Miguel suggested they let her sleep, get her strength back, but Noir was insistent.

“This is the most important part, boss.” Noir asserted.

~~~~~~~~~~

Sleepy spider was coming to again swaying slightly in the arms of the tallest in the trio walking down the short hallway.

“Bella Durmiente,” Miguel cooed. He had been watching her face as he carried her to the bathroom in his large office and when her lashes parted and fluttered open to look up at him his chest tightened.

“Such a cutie, even when she snores.” Peter beamed over Miguel’s shoulder as if he were carrying a kitten in his cradled arms.

Miguel carried her into the bathroom and she looked around at lights moving on the walls. It wasn’t tricks of Miguel’s futuristic decor, but rather several lit pillar candles flickering and casting soft shadows of the four of them.

The new recruit had fully come down from her delirium from earlier, but more flush came to her face as Miguel placed her into a clawfoot tub. It was huge. It had to be to house the large man that was sinking her into the shoulder deep water.

The bath was so warm. Hot even. It wasn’t too hot for her though as she awkwardly grabbed the edges of the tub, even though Miguel was oh so careful. Heaps of bubbles rounded the edge and she focused on the fizzling I ward off the feeling of three sets of eyes on her.

Miguel’s hands returned to her body as he rested on his knees beside the tub. He had already saturated a soft wash cloth in soap and was gently rubbing it on her skin, starting with her painted abdomen. He was reaching towards her lower half when his brows furrowed slightly in concentration on her face, watching her reactions. He barely patted her sensitive inner thighs with the rag but pulled away when she winced.

“Lo siento, arañita.” Miguel remorsed. She responded softly, saying she was fine.

“You really took a beating, dollface,” Noir agreed. He’d taken the knee himself at the end of the tub. His gloves were off, sleeves rolled up, and with surprisingly soft hands he reached into the bubble bath and rubbed the swooning spider’s feet. “You sure you okay, sugar?”

She responded by shyly nodding and sinking her head under the water down to her nose, her eyes moving from each man’s face. She saw that Peter had mirrored the others’ posture and positioned himself at the head of the tub. His chin rested on his arm laid out on the tub’s rim. His other arm reached out and idly traced circles on the surface of the water. He had grown uncharacteristically quiet while watching the peaceful scene unfold in front of him.

She poked her mouth out the water and timidly said, “You guys don’t have to do all this, I can bathe myself…”

She wasn’t uncomfortable, just not used to this kind of care and attention. Especially three fold. Moments ago she was nearly shameless in her entanglement of limbs and fluids. However, this was treatment that was normally forgotten or shrugged off at the end of a long session. She could handle the smacks and fingers grabbing and leaving small bruises. Intimate connection was a whole different level of consideration she simply didn’t know how to react to.

The three men ignored her as they continued their self-delegated duties. The silence wasn’t unnerving but actually tolerable and she felt herself slipping again at the pampering pressing on the pads of her feet.

The large hands lifting limbs and reaching to cleanse her completely calmed her body that had been thrashing not too long ago.

The usual quips from the mouthy spider had been replaced with sweet pokes at her cheeks and shoulders followed by giggles from them both. They playfully splashed each other. Even though the brooding one rolled his eyes at the clothes he just changed into getting wet, he wished he could record the moment and have it on a loop for those especially difficult days protecting the multiverse.

The black-clad spider pressed along the sweet spider’s feet once more before blending into the background again. The glimmering candles quickly swiped from his era framed his silhouette as he retreated a moment.

He returned with a towel in one hand and a certain pink robe that had been tossed to the ground in the fun from before in the other hand. He smiled softly behind his mask at the scene in front of him: sweet spider back to smiling and laughing.

He nodded to himself in pride.

The most important part.

🕷️🕸️🕷️

__________ __________ __________ __________

Spanish translation (THANK YOU AGAIN @ejpuki on Twitter and my cousin lol):

“Está apretadito…riquísimo..” (she’s so tight,… so fucking hot)

“me vuelves loco” (you drive me crazy)

“Te voy a comer ese culo.” (going to eat that ass)

“Quiero que te vengas en mi verga, arñita” (I want you to cum on my dick, little spider)

“Que culo..” (that ass)

“Bella Durmiente” (Sleeping Beauty 🥹)

“Lo siento, arañita.” (I’m sorry, little spider)

[ship-graveyard]

P1Harmony MTL - Fashion 💅

- mtl to let you pick out their outfit for a day -

🫧 - most to least | 🌙 - gn!reader | 💞 - ot6

———————————————————————

Most Likely

Keeho:

♡ - when you suggest it he’s absolutely thrilled

♡ - bonus points if you let him pick out your outfit in return

♡ - has some uhhhhhhh unusual clothes sometimes but they make him happy and he has the confidence to pull off literally anything (and if you make fun of him for the slightly uglier things he owns he’ll just just laugh and threaten to make you wear them instead)

♡ - he’s so passionate about his personal image and he’ll use the chance to boost your own style and confidence because he loves you and needs you to see how stunning and creative you are

♡ - MODELS the outfit for you afterwards (he’s already thinking up new ideas for next time too)

———————————————————————

Intak:

♡ - thinks it’s a cute idea (and also would do ANYTHING for you)

♡ - gives you a full tour of his closet complete with stories about where he got each item before you even start

♡ - enjoys fashion but doesn’t always have the energy to put together a solid outfit, so he really appreciates this

♡ - is 100% down to wear something from your closet if you lend it to him. doesn’t matter how different in style or size it is, he just loves the idea of having a constant reminder of you (and if it’s different enough from his usual outfits for people to ask about it, he’d love the excuse to talk about you lol)

♡ - likely to drape something random of his over your head/shoulders and watch you with puppy eyes until you agree to wear it in return (also bonus points if your outfits match even a little bit)

———————————————————————

Jongseob:

♡ - unbothered king. finds the suggestion strange at first but it grows on him

♡ - as long as you understand his comfort level and give him ultimate veto power to say no to anything at any time, have at it. he trusts you

♡ - once he relaxes a bit he’ll be suggesting and trying on really ugly combinations just for the fun of it and you’ll both be giggly messes

♡ - gets especially excited for accessory recommendations and tries to steal some of your keychains and cute trinkets in return for lending you a few of his

♡ - posts an ootd if he really likes what you picked for him bc he likes seeing reminders of you when he looks in the mirror, and he can save that feeling forever in pictures

———————————————————————

Theo:

♡ - a bit particular about his outfits, so he wouldn’t outright refuse, but he would complain at first about how he doesn’t really see the point

♡ - UNTIL he realizes that your plan includes accessorizing and then he’s all in

♡ - jewelry, makeup, nail polish, and literally anything else you bring along will have him preening. he will sit so still while you work

♡ - his favorite part would be letting you style his hair though. it’s mostly just an excuse to get you to play with his hair, but he keeps suggesting new and complex hairstyles for you to try (even if you can’t figure them out, spending time with you like this makes everything worth it for him)

♡ - very likely to lend you stuff from his own closet casually, so he wouldn’t be too reciprocal but only bc your outfits are already somewhat influenced by him

———————————————————————

Jiung:

♡ - would find it a very sweet suggestion, but is ultimately very reluctant to actually go through with it

♡ - he’d be more interested in dressing you up, but if you agree to give him some say in the final result (and ask nicely), he’ll cave

♡ - he would probably love handmade or customized clothing, so if you do any kind of fabric art (sewing, crochet, knitting, embroidery, etc) or personalization (patches, paint, studs) he’d be more than happy to showcase any of your work

♡ - he’s dressing you up in return (probably in his clothes bc he’s so proud to have you and just a liiiiiiittle bit possessive)

♡ - will model the outfit for you and then get overwhelmingly embarrassed about it (and oh noooo he’ll only feel better if you do a little spin and model yours too)

———————————————————————

Soul:

♡ - he’d agree and follow through with it, but his heart just wouldn’t be in it

♡ - if you find an interesting color or pattern combination, he’ll consider it, but he just doesn’t really see the appeal of putting a ton of time into outfits when his comfortable clothes serve him just fine

♡ - instead of having a special occasion for it, he prefers to have little reminders of you regularly worked into his outfit/personal items

♡ - would definitely end up stealing your clothes over time (especially clothes he can just relax in). he feels comfortable with you and your style of clothes, no matter what that is, bc they remind him of you

♡ - HOWEVER. he would be the best person to cosplay or go out in costumes with bc he can get very invested in characters and ideas

[violetrainbow412-blog]

New look [S. R.]

Spencer Reid x fem!reader

word count: 800

Summary: directly based on "The internet is forever" (5x22), when Reid's wonderful but short-lived boyband cut appears for the first time

Most of you were sitting in the conference room when JJ got ready to present the case. That particular night you had slept very little and to perform at work you thought it necessary to prepare yourself a coffee Spencer-style, who, by the way, had not yet deigned to appear at the bureau's offices.

“This is Dorris Archer, she's the third woman to go missing in Boise, Idaho, this year, along with Paula Renmar and Samantha Rush” the blonde began to say, under the attention of the entire team “They went missing roughly 2 months apart …” suddenly she cut off her words and her gaze traveled behind you. Out of inertia you turned your head and your breath caught a bit when you looked at who it was.

Of course you were glad to see your friend finally show up, but you honestly hadn't expected to see him like this. 

"Well, hello," JJ sneered, grinning in astonishment and approval at the man's new look.

Spencer took a seat in the chair next to you and all eyes fell on him, especially yours and Hotch's, albeit for very different reasons. You had gotten used to seeing his hair falling over his shoulders, even a couple of times you had come to help the man hold it with one of your scrunchies, but to be honest, the cut at that moment suited him much better than it should. It made him look cute and at the same time so… sexy? Yeah, maybe that was the word.

Although you wanted to say something, the words didn’t leave your lips and your boss was the first to speak:

"What, did you join a boy band?" he, miraculously, joked. 

"No," Reid replied, genuinely confused, and that was reason enough for all of you, without exception, to start laughing. When he heard your laughter, he looked in your direction and smiled kindly in greeting, to which you responded with a friendly squeeze on his arm.

Emily mumbled something to follow up on the case, but even against your will your mind was occupied with a completely different matter; being more specific on a certain person right next to you. You kept blatantly staring at him for a long time and when he felt that attention you saw him turn his head towards you, an obvious sparkle of concern in his eyes. Out of respect for the unit, he didn't say anything to you, but as soon as JJ finished presenting the case and you both got up from the table, he walked over to you.

"What's going on?"

"What's going on about what?”

“You were staring at me a long time ago,” he pointed out, but it wasn't like you were hiding it “Do I look that terrible?”

When you realized the confusion that had been generated, you couldn't contain a laugh and that only increased your friend's nervousness. You two were the only ones left in the conference room, so no one would be able to hear what you had to say.

“Just the opposite, Spence. I was looking at you because I think you look very handsome” you confessed, smiling kindly at him from where you were, and one moment you saw him turn red up to his ears, because he probably didn't expect that kind of response.

"Are you serious?" he asked you timidly.

"Very seriously" you approached him to extend your hands up to his head so you could run your fingers through the strands of his hair. When he understood your intentions, he crouched slightly and simply enjoyed the contact "Although I've already gotten used to your long hair, I admit that I like this one too. It looks messier, like you're more rebellious"

"I was a little undecided about the shape," he told you, making his usual hand movements "but when I started to cut it, I thought it would be the best option and at the end I was afraid I was making a mistake, because I had never had it like that before"

“Did you cut it yourself?” you half squealed, looking at him in complete disbelief, and he nodded with a small smile “Handsome, smart, kind and now you're a barber. You're quite a jack of all trades, huh, Reid?"

"Enough, don't say those things" he laughed, turning all shy and silly at your flattery.

"Looks like I'll have to keep you away from the girls" you concluded playfully, while you winked at him and took your bag to get out of there "See you there, don't be late"

Spencer just chuckled to himself and watched you go, still internally debating whether he should take your shameless flirtations as a joke or if you really meant it. Whatever the case, he was grateful to have made that impulsive decision solely for the pleasure of hearing his little (not that much, really) crush call him handsome.

taglist: @navs-bhat @reidwritings @tricia-shifting14 @spencerslove

[dav-suburbiia]

Happy Chapter 2 Episode 11 Anniversary! 1 year ago today, DRDT fans’ brain chemistry was changed forever…

In celebration, I’ve drawn 3 versions of David I’ve played in some longterm roleplays.

explanations for their designs:

Lifeline - dead and in purgatory. the purgatory appears as a clinic, so I put him in a hospital gown. tried to make his skin look discolored like a zombie’s, and also (while you can’t see it in this particular style) his eyes are really hollow and dead. probably does the uneven frog blink at you.

Death is Inevitable - YTTD longterm series. survived the first RP. in the sequel RP, he came back as the protagonist of the side story where he had to find and rescue the hostages in the current game. older and more disheveled. greying hairs from stress and tanner skin, eyebags from lack of sleep due to nightmares. :( firearm certified, though!

Starbound - the main villain for the first half of the RP. gets redeemed and is overthrown by another more terrifying villain. he thinks he’s doing a good thing and is super vocal about it, hence his more confident pose. decided he absolutely needed to make a big deal about it. very zesty..

here’s to another year of sogging.

[bbcphile]

Thoughts on character and costume?

I really love how the respective characters have different colour palettes, silhouettes but in particular material/textures to their costuming. Fang Duobing is a little princess so he gets pale pastels, fancy ornamentation and transparent gauzy fabrics which I find so cute, he’s not just rich he’s *expensive* and *pretty* it’s pretty funny that he matches the actual princess in the red leaves mountain case

DFS gets your wide shoulder bad guy rich deep colours with thick layers and lots of metal detailing but it veers towards grand instead of pretty. Hot topic young DFS is leather and studs lmao. Brocade and fur & shit.

LLH is a linen boi and he almost never has any metal on him, we all know his natural material hair ornament meta etc. Interestingly, he does share some colour palette and fabric overlap with FDB, we se him with his tits out transparent outer layer sometimes. No structure all flowy silhouette

someone on here made a post abt their differing sleeve styles but I can’t find it!

I wanted to gush but also do u have any extra costume thoughts + how they relate to one another? You have a great knack for finding good photos of the show too 😅

Thanks for the ask, @lei-llustrations , and I love your analysis of the outfits! I'm so sorry it took me forever to respond! I had grand plans for a full essay analyzing DFS's costumes, and then I ran out of spoons for doing that. (The short version of the point I was going to prove is that his a-Fei outfits have elements of what seem to be his favorite details from his fancier alliance leader outfits, so it seemed like evidence of LLH trying to make up for making him be in disguise and without his power. I'm thinking of the maroon-red one with studs in the sleeves in particular, but there are echoes of his preferences in the other ones, too.)

Since I'll never actually respond if I wait to put that meta together, here's a shorter one, with my thoughts on DFS's official Alliance Leader robes (screenshot taken from ep 40, when delivering the wangchuan flower).

LLH and FDB both call him Di mengzhu in the wangchuan flower scene, because he's clearly dressed in a way that makes this an Official Visit. I find it fascinating that he wears his alliance leader outfit instead of his grey, maroon, and gold outfit that he wears for non-alliance matters (aka. the wedding room outfit, which he also wears for such Xiangyi-related purposes as the reunion duel that doesn't happen and grieving for him in the middle of the night). After all, he's giving LLH a gift to save his life and issuing him a friendly anniversary honeymoon challenge, so you'd think that would call for his dating outfit, not his official garb.

BUT! What if he's using his official Alliance Leader regalia as a way of saying that not only a-Fei/Lao Di, but also Di Mengzhu and the Jinyuan Alliance want him to live? It's more than just essentially creating Peace Treaty version 2.0, and trying to get life back to what could have been if SGD and JLQ hadn't ruined everything: their people at peace, and the two of them meeting for friendly duels rather than death matches. Yes, only LLH and FDB are there to witness it, but by showing up in his Official Capacity, he's also correcting all the narratives about the enmity between himself and Li Xiangyi, and in giving him the flower, he's officially declaring that Di Mengzhu wants Li Lianhua to heal and have his strength and power back more than he wants to gain martial arts power himself.

This is a HUGE deal. DFS formed the Jinyuan Alliance as a way of climbing the ranks of the jianghu, because his goal was to gain strength so he'd never be helpless or forced to do someone's bidding again. And yet, he wears the outfit that symbolizes that striving and his place at the top of it to GIVE AWAY THE FLOWER THAT WOULD CEMENT HIS PLACE AT THE TOP OF THE JIANGHU. He wants Li Lianhua to not just live but also to regain the strength SGD and JLQ stole from him, which would mean that Li Xiangyi would quite possibly defeat him, and he would welcome that, because it's not about self-protection anymore: now, what he wants more than anything else, is for Li Xiangyi/Lianhua to live.

If that's not enough of an emotional gut punch, try this: Di Feisheng told Li Xiangyi at the start of the show that swordsmen shouldn't have weaknesses. Di Feisheng has only really had two "weaknesses" (vulnerabilities might be more accurate): his desiring the wangchuan flower (which led to SGD and JLQ incapacitating him) and Li Lianhua. It feels like a monumental shift to me that, at the end of the show, Di Feisheng hands one weakness to the man who is the other: essentially, he is announcing to the world that nothing is more important to him than Li Lianhua's recovery, and he doesn't care who knows it.

It also feels very pertinent that his official outfit is wedding red, and he's essentially showing up in his fanciest remaining outfit to offer Li Lianhua his heart on a platter priceless magical flower in a box the way someone might show up at the house of their beloved with boxes and boxes of betrothal gifts. Not that DFS explained that or LLH picked up on it, because that would involve better communication skills than either of them had.

[darlingggdearest]

Genya and fem!reader who thought his fighting style and determination was really admirable and cool and wants to get to know him more, but everytime she tries, he's just too flustered

Genya with Fem! reader who thinks his fighting style is really cool

OMG I love this so much! thank you for requesting.

WARNING: None! enjoy!

+ You were a demon slayer, just one rank lower than Genya. Genya had always caught your attention, from the way he looked to the way he held himself. One thing in particular caught your eye though, the way he fought.

+ You had tried to become friends with him a multitude of times. Finding him cool and admirable for the way he fights, but whenever you tried to walk up to him to introduce yourself, he'd walk away.

+ At first you thought he hated you, what you didn't realize is that the exact opposite was true. he'd run away from the sight of you not because he hated you, but because he really liked you. He liked you a bit too much, and in the world of the demon slayer, liking someone in a sense more than friendship is emotional suicide. He knew this, so it was ok right? He just had to keep his distance and- DAMN IT- you are too damn persistent!! He saw your figure emerging from the trees again. That damn perfect figure. With that damn perfect smile. And that damn perfect hair. And- he stopped his thoughts. BE GONE YOU AND YOUR PELVIC SORCERY. (I really hope people get that reference)

+ You waved your hand in the air. "Hey, Genya! What are you talking about?"

+ His face heat up, great- he accidentally said it out loud. To save what was left of his dignity, he turned around and hightailed it out of there. And that's what he kept doing, for a while.

+ Until you guys got paired up on a mission.

+ Now he couldn't run away, so instead, he came up with the best option he could think of: staying perfectly silent. That lasted about 15 minutes.

+ You started the conversation by telling him your name (he already knew because he asked his older brother about you) and he mustered up the confidence to shake your hand. Your skin felt so soft and warm to the touch, he defiantly held onto your hand a good 2 seconds longer than he should have, embarrassed, he overthought it the rest of the day.

+ The mission went well, after a few hours of fighting, the demon's head came off with a satisfying slice. And you got to see Genya fighting up close, which is always a good thing.

+ You felt overexcited from all the fighting, adrenalin most defiantly still flowing through your veins. So without thinking you let all of the things you had thought of Genya out. The way you thought he was so cool for fighting with a gun and a sword, the way he holds himself, and of course the "I am so honored to be able to fight by your side Genya!" At the end of your rant you had to take a big deep breath, realizing you hadn't been breathing through any of it. You look up, Genya stares back.

+ He is in complete shock. He had no idea that you thought these things about him. He feels proud? Embarrassed? Happy? Flustered? oh yes most defiantly flustered. His blush has not only causes a sheet of sweat across his face but it also stretches down his back and chest, even his fingers are blushing a bright crimson glow. His stomach is doing cartwheels. He can't quite focus on anything but you. Right now. Right in front of him. One side of him would do anything to not be in this moment, and the other would do anything to be in this moment forever. Both are fighting to the death inside of him. And before the second side could claim its victory, Genya faints.

+ He wakes up in a bed at the butterfly mansion with you sitting right next to him.

+ "Oh! You're awake!" you exclaim. "Shinobu said you'll be fine, it was just a tumble, she thinks that you stretched yourself too thin during the battle and you just need to get some rest."

+ That's it. He's excepted his defeat. He loves you. And now he's in trouble.

Should I post a part two??

[snoopledrooplecheesedoodle]

Can I request something for yandere merman Kakyoin? :>

My idea is he not actually a merman but a sea witch with octopus body, just like Ursula in My little mermaid. He use his potion to turn into a merman to attract his darling because he know their darling will be afraid of his real form. He want to capture darling to be his mate forever.

Well that's my idea, feel free to be creative with the plot :D thank you so much

Never thought our boy who looks like Ariel was Ursula the whole time... now that I think about it Hierophant Green works perfectly with this. Kakyoin is a mimic octopus which allows him to change his skin and body to look like other things, which combined with magic you really don't stand a chance. This is from Kakyoin's perspective mostly. Reader is gender neutral but more feminine presenting because who doesn't love a pretty enby. I also do masc and andro too but why not mix it up. If you want a particular gender don't be afraid to ask!

Merrow=Nonbinary mermaid

Reel You In

You were perfect...

Bright (e/c) eyes, wide smile on your plush lips, shiny (h/c) hair

A true gem, a real pearl if you will

His treasure

His pretty little merrow

How did he mean you in all your divinity?

Kakyoin was taking stock of his ingredients, after all his magic still required special herbs and items of the deep. His green and white striped tentacles filtered through the vials and drawers. He was low on whale fat and Leviathan scales. Kakyoin sighed it would take him ages to find these rare ingredients. Leviathans aren't usually fond of getting rid of their scales. He'll have to scour the specialty market for these ingredients. The unfortunate thing is it only opens when the ocean is darkest. He gathered his cloak off the large mer skeleton it was hanging off of. He put on his cloak and swam into the darkness.

The market was full of sketchy characters per usual, nobody good came to the Night Market unless they were desperate. It was swarming with thieves, witches, and the usual assortment of outcasts and criminals' merfolk told stories of to make their fry behave. Of course, he was one of them so there was no room to complain. He was browsing the stalls when a heavy force knocked into him. His amethyst eyes filled with annoyance, someone was already trying to rob him, and he just got here. He snatched his satchel back and glared at the offender who apologized?

"I'm so sorry sir, I wasn't watching where I was swimming. Did you lose anything from your bag?" Intriguing. Looking at the figure in front on him he could tell they didn't belong. (h/l) (h/c) styled with a pretty white ribbon (if bald or hijab its tied around your neck). Wide (e/c) orbs full of innocence he'd not seen in a while (your innocent compared to him bro). You were very attractive in his eyes as it's not often to see someone be so decent in his line of work.

"Sir? Sir? Oh no did I hit you too hard?!" The merrow's worried voice broke him out of his thoughts. "Oh, no I'm fine no harm has been done. Mx. ..." You laughed which was a genuine laugh, not one full of malice, just pure joy. Kakyoin wishes he could capture that laugh and put it in a jar. "(Y/N) my name is (Y/N)." Oh, they were so trusting, the naive little thing. "Kakyoin, but you may call me Noriyaki." (Y/N) grinned at this and swished their shiny tail back and forth. "Okay Noriyaki it's so very nice to meet you! Oh no I need to go before the market closes! See you, Nori!" The cheerful merrow swam off leaving Kakyoin paralyzed in awe. Suddenly, finding those materials didn't seem so interesting.

Kakyoin hadn't slept well in a while, thoughts of a special little merrow kept him awake. Your beautiful face invaded his dreams, your laugh haunted his every waking moment, your coquettish smile taunted him so. Oh, you had no idea how much you drove him crazy! He had been neglecting his work to watch you from his seer glass. You were even more irresistible in your day-to-day life.

You were coming back from shopping eagerly talking to yourself about the new tops you bought when you bumped into a cecaelia. You were rather clumsy, weren't you? Now you would apologize profusely and offer this merfolk your aid. What shocked Kakyoin was when you froze at the sight of the person before you and swam away in a panic. How unusual of sweet little you. What could cause such a reaction? He hadn't seen you act so rashly even with the most intimidating fish folk but this ceacaelia made you swim away with fear he has never seen before. Does it mean?

No

NO.

You were afraid of cecaelia.

You were afraid of him.

Kakyoin's fantasy of finding you again and courting you was ruined, all because you were afraid of cecaelia. He was spiraling fast. He smashed bottles and flipped his cauldron over in a fit of rage. He never hated having tentacles in his life but now he wanted to rip them all off. His blue blood leaking from his hands reminding him of his physical imperfection. If only he was born a merman like you... then I idea struck him.

Maybe reaching you wasn't impossible.

Pain, throbbing pain was all Kakyoin felt. His tentacles felt like they were ripped clean off, but it was worth it for the emerald and silver fish tail he had now. Kakyoin was stumbling around like a guppy trying to get used to their fins for the first time. It was taking some practice, but he was getting used to it. Soon he'd be perfect. Perfect for you. Once he's reeled you in, he'd show the real him, but by then

You can't escape

Kakyoin was positively giddy with all the feelings of love he felt for you. All he needed to do was find his beloved but make it seem like a coincidence. After all, you were naive but a bit skittish. All the more reason to keep you safe from dangerous creatures of the ocean and take a delicate approach to get to you. After observing you for so long he knew where you liked to go and when. By now you would be gathering human trinkets at the abandoned ship you frequently explored. He couldn't care less about humans and their dirty little tools, but you loved them so and he loved you. He received a particularly shiny trinket from a recent customer (victim), a shining bejeweled brooch. Something irresistible for a little merrow such as yourself. Kakyoin could practically see the big sparkling eyes you would make at such a priceless treasure.

Kakyoin swam over to a lopsided piece of wood to hide behind and think of how to approach you organically. Muttering to himself plan after plan unaware of the curious merrow eyeing the distressed merman. Kakyoin felt a tentative tap on the shoulder. He flushed as he made eye contact with his darling, who smiled so brightly at him. They were so beautiful when they smiled so sweetly at him. "Did you need help-oh you're that guy from the market um... Norisaki?" You remembered him... sort of. What a wonderful thing!

"Noriyaki, I'm surprised you remembered me." Kakyoin chuckled to himself. You smiled at him before blushing slightly. "It's kind of hard not to since our meeting was so embarrassing." You were the type to allow embarrassing moments to dwell in your head long after they occurred. It was quite cute. "It's quite alright neither of us were truly harmed. Are you usually so hard on yourself?" Your flushed face grew even more red with the last sentence. "Um...I hold my silence?" Kakyoin laughed at your meek response.

"That's quite alright... you know between you and me I happen to come to this sunken ship for human treasures." At the words "human treasures" your eyes lit up like bioluminescent phytoplankton at the thought of finding a kindred spirit. "I didn't know other merfolk liked human things, most of my friends call their things garbage." You looked down sadly as you finished your sentence, tracing the water rotted wooden beam in your hand. Kakyoin placed a hand of yours and stared at you with his mesmerizing purple eyes. "Some people don't understand something's value if it isn't immediately obvious." Kakyoin pulls out the glimmering brooch that shone in the filtered light of the ocean, bringing out the (e/c) of your eyes.

"It's absolutely beautiful." You marveled at the brilliant emeralds and rubies that made up the serpent pendent. In all your trips here, you had never found something so opulent before. Only thing close was a rusty spoon. Kakyoin noticed your eagerness with a tender smile. "You can have it if you want." You looked curiously at the merman seeing if he was being serious. "I'm not going to bite you; you can take it." Kakyoin smiled as the merrow hesitantly took the brooch from his outstretched hand. Yes, everything was going to plan, he imbued that brooch with magic so he could track where you go. Like the serpent in mythology, Kakyoin was not to be trusted.

"Thank you so much Nori!"

"You're welcome, my darling."

His plan was working smoothly as you were practically eating anything he told you straight from his palm. You were so sweet and trusting, it made his heart melt from fervent worship. He adored you more than anyone ever could, that alone should make him worthy of you. However, his fish disguise wore off after 48 hours and he'd be put through hell again to bring back the illusion. It wasn't the slightest bit healthy to keep this act up, but it would be all worth it in the end. When he had you safely in his arms.

His precious little mate

He'd find a way for you to have children, through magic or adoption. That way when you accept him you would be fully bound to each other. Forever. A blue flush covers his faces as he giggles to himself, oh you two would have so many wonderful years together! Just you and him and no one else.

Of course, there were a few road bumps Kakyoin needed to face first.

Your friends were skeptical of his intentions towards you as he looked familiar to a certain sea witch who was known for taking advantage of the poor souls who came to him out of sheer desperation. He couldn't let them continue to poison your mind with their deceitful words (where's the lie tho?). His amethyst eyes glinted with sadistic glee as one by one your friends were placed under his thumb as they came to him for help for problems he caused.

Poor darling, you had no idea why all your friends suddenly disappeared without a trace. The towns people became suspicious of you, thinking you were the reason all these merfolk disappeared. You were ripe with insecurity for Kakyoin to harvest. You fit perfectly in his arms as you sobbed about how life seemed to dole out more that your fair share of problems. "Kakyoin I don't know what I've done to deserve this, do you think my friends hate me?"

Hate you? No one could be capable of hating you, and the wretches who do will be swiftly dealt with. "They aren't worth your tears; good friends wouldn't disappear without telling you. Besides I'm here with you, aren't I?" You gave him that adorable grin that he loved so much. "You're right I have you."

Kakyoin was positively giddy as he swam around his lair, cleaning as best as he could. He convinced you to seek out the guidance of the Emerald Sea Witch, and you took it like the naive, trusting little thing you were. He couldn't wait to show you his real form and seal your souls together via contract. Humming a hypnotic tune to himself and swaying his tentacles sensually, he heard a sweet little frightened voice call out. "Hello, I'm looking for the Emerald Sea Witch."

Kakyoin swam to the darkest corner of his shadowy lair and grinned to himself. His hard work was paying off. Now to reel you in. "You've come to the right place little merrow." He purred sweetly to you. You looked confused as you heard the familiar voice, why did the witch sound like your friend. "My friend told me you might know about the recent disappearances of the merfolk."

He couldn't hold back his chuckle, he had to restrain himself from holding you in his tentacles and peppering you with kisses. You were just too precious. "You'll have to be more specific darling; merfolk are always going missing." You back into the merskeleton where he hangs his cloaks, causing you to squeak with fright. He should have put that away. You were trembling with fear, yet you balled your shaky fists with resolve. Turning to the direction Kakyoin was lounging you spoke shakily. "The merfolk who went missing were my friends, I would like to know if they are alive." The last part made your voice crack with sadness. Seeing you waste your tears on such scum made his cheeks color with rage.

Patience

Kakyoin steadied himself and spoke once more.

"I'll make a deal with you little merrow, I'll find your friends and even let you see them..." Your eyes lit up with glee before turning a bit skeptical. "What do you want in return?" Kakyoin smiled widely in the dark, just a little bit more and you'll be in his tentacles. "I want you to give me rare treasure." The treasure he was referring to was you, but he knew that you would foolishly think the pendant would suffice.

"Deal."

"Excellent, just sign here." Kakyoin snapped his fingers and a golden contract appeared in front of you. If you were smarter, you would notice the fine print entailing that the treasure in question, was your soul bound to his for eternity. You took the quill without hesitation and signed your name on the dotted line.

He did it!

You were his!

"Now where are my friends?" Kakyoin rolled a single vial to you, inside were the trapped souls of your friends crying for you to help them. You gasped in terror and attempted to flee. Two tentacles wrapped around your waist and pulled you towards him. "Not so fast my dear you haven't finished your end of the deal; I want my rare treasure."

You sobbed in terror at the appendages you hated your entire life, octopus were your kind's natural predator. "Take it, just let me go." You grabbed the broach out of your worn satchel and threw it in the witch's direction. "I thought you'd be smarter than that (Y/N)." It clicked as to who was the sea witch. "No." You wanted to curl up into a ball as Kakyoin laughed at the misery in your voice. "Now (Y/N) is that anyway to speak to an old friend."

Kakyoin stepped into the glowing light the cauldron produced making you cry out in fear, anger, and betrayal. "You're not my friend, you lied to me!" You pulled further a the grasp of the tentacles attempting to escape the red head, but he pulled you closer and nuzzled his face into your neck. "I know that I have been a bit dishonest with my method of courting you, but I promise to be more honest in the future." "People will come looking for me and you'll be sorry then!" Kakyoin looked you in your frightened (e/c) eyes and frowned. He then plucked the white ribbon from your hair and sent a magical current towards the town.

"No one will look for you if they think your dead my treasure." Kakyoin cooed gently. "Now then lets finish this courting process, I want us to officially become mates." This statement caused more sobbing from your end as a silver collar appeared around your neck.

"Why?" Was all you could muster. Kakyoin swayed hypnotically with you in his arms. "How couldn't I when you reeled me in."

Sorry if the ending sucked I just wanted to make room for new requests and start working more on my reincarnated sins posts and a cult village story with my own yandere ocs. I hope you enjoyed

[lisannastraussisanangel]

I don't think you've already done it (and if you did, sorry for the double!!!) but would you have some HC for Wendy with the Raijishuu+ Laxus? I think she deserves to be everyone's little sister <3 (but also they would make such a fun team!)

!!!!

Yes, omg, I love them! I firmly believe Wendy is their little sister

They all know Wendy is a badass and are usually the only ones willing to let Wendy do hard jobs

So they tend to take her on more challenging jobs

Of course, they watch out for her and make sure it's something they can handle just in case

But all of them wanna see her grow and become the strongest version of herself

Now that being said, they also refuse to admit that Wendy is aging and growing up. She is forever 12 and their precious baby sister

She might be a total badass but she is their baby

Wendy will make them flower crowns and they will wear them. Nothing like seeing the entire Raijinshuu covered in petals, giggling with the girl

Evergreen absolutely gushes over Wendy. I'm taking hugging her and squeezing her cheeks talking about how cute she is

Evergreen also tries to give Wendy girl talk and advice but it is usually pretty terrible. Wendy, being the angel she is, usually thanks her and pretends she's learned a valuable lesson

Laxus has protective big brother energy all the time. He's always hovering behind her in public just to make sure people know not to fuck with her

Wendy has done Laxus' makeup on several occasions. At first, he was super embarrassed by it but then Wendy got sad that he wiped it off before a party and now he wears it with pride every time she does it.

Similarly, Wendy is all about styling Freed's hair. Freed is super particular about his hair but he is a sucker for her puppy dog eyes

They did their best to keep Wendy away from Bickslow's bad influence. That man is always trying to turn Wendy into a delinquent (he's failing miserably but that won't stop him)

Bickslow is the best at cheering up Wendy. Like no matter how sad she is, that man can get her to smile within seconds. He's very proud of this skill

Bescause of the Raijinshuu, Wendy knows so many swear words. Including ones in different languages. She doesn't use them but boy does she consider it

They are Wendy's biggest cheerleaders during the grand magic games. They showed up one year wearing t-shirts with her face on them (to her absolute horror)

[missmaywemeetagain]

Read Need Your Love Tonight ✈️💙🔥...

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

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

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

March 25th, 1961

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And, boy, is he.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Ah, youth, you think with a smile.

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

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

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

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

His eyes widen and he nods.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And there’s nothing sexier than that.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Good boy.” You grind down on him.

Being in your 30s has never been so sweet.

TAGLIST

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

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

 @littlebitofgreen @paigevis @bugg06 @xhannahbananax03 @artlover8992

@18lkpeters @frozenhuntress67 @girlblogger2002 @kendralavon7 @misspresley 

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

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

@simplyamberj @claire-elvisgirl @everythingelvispresley @louisejoy86 

[luce-speaks]

Wake Me Up by Avicii for Tellius! ;)

(oh man it's been a minute but i got around to this at last! ummmmm i went angsty with it so apologies in advance. or enjoy, i guess, if that's your style. i had fun with it at least...)

Having your memories ripped out isn't a painless process.

Ike knows this, though he doesn't know it yet. He can't, because he hasn't gotten there yet and doesn't even know there's a thing to have forgotten about in the first place. But he knows its consequences, the emotions that rise up seemingly out of nowhere, the grief and frustration and the reaching-out-for-something-that-isn't-there. And he knows, sometimes, that missing memories never stay that way forever.

They come back to him on nights of particular stress—more often now, after the death of his father. Those nights, after he finally tucks himself into his ratty bedroll and drifts off to sleep, he watches it happen. Feels himself rooted to the spot, once again too small to do anything and too transfixed to look away. He watches his mother die. He watches Mist run to the corpse. He stands there, useless; too weak even to scream.

Then, just when he thinks this pain might last forever, it's interrupted by the trespass of two strangers. They talk past Ike and Mist, and Ike wants to scream at them for it, only nothing in him seems to work properly and maybe it never will.

He watches them clean up the bloody corpse. He watches them lie to Mist about it. He watches the long-haired stranger start casting a spell, and—with no say in the matter—he feels himself drifting off once more.

And then, every time, he wakes up in a cold sweat, angry and confused and empty once more. His family consoles him. The feelings start to subside, and he lets himself think it's the war making him strange. But there's a part of him that knows—that has always known. And he will find it when he's ready.

[mysecretlittlelibrary]

Wash Day With Steve Rogers

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader

Word Count: 1.1k

Warnings: none really

Genre: fluff this is all fluff

Summary: Washing day ft your super soldier boyfriend Steve Rogers

***

Steve pushes open the door to your apartment and holds the door for you to go in.

"Ugh that took incredibly longer than I wanted." You sigh as you tug off your boots. Tony scheduled some training things today and required everyone to show up.

"It was- extensive, but I was expecting it to be worse than that to be honest." Steve hums.

"I planned to wash my hair today and that took a big chunk out of my afternoon, now it's after six." You roll your eyes.

"You can still go do it, I'll make dinner in the meantime." Steve kisses your cheek.

"You won't mind?" You ask.

"Of course not. Did you want anything specific?"

"Whatever you make will be fine I'm not feeling anything in particular. I'm gonna hop in the shower." You say rushing down the hall to grab your hair things from your bedroom.

"Alright! It'll be done by the time you're out." Steve calls after you, chuckling a bit at your frantic preparation for your shower. You hop into the shower and drench your hair for a few minutes before shampooing. You take several minutes to massage the shampoo into your scalp. Luckily you've been wearing it out for the last few weeks so there isn't a whole lot of product build up to worry about this time around. You rinse your hair out thoroughly and then squirt several pumps of conditioner into your hand to run through your hair. When you feel like it's sufficiently saturated you take a seat on the tub of your shower to detangle your hair because of how long it usually takes. Working through it in small sections you drag your wide tooth comb through your hair to gently deal with the knots. Singing to yourself, it takes you probably like forty-five minutes to detangle your entire head of hair. You stand with a sigh and grab your bodywash. To give the conditioner a few minutes to sit in your hair, you wash your body and face first before you rinse the conditioner out of your har, taking care to not re-tangle it again in the process. When that's done, you pull your clump of hair out of your comb and drag it along the walls of your shower, collecting the mess of curls that splattered themselves against the tile in the process of your shower. With the larger coils of hair are collected you use the showerhead to rinse whatever's left down the drain before getting out. You wrap your t-shirt around your head and dry yourself off, your slides dragging against the floor as you walk into your room. You quickly lotion yourself and throw on a shirt and sweats, unwrapping your hair to dry it with the shirt as you walk back out to find Steve.

"Alright, all done!" You smile. You see that there's a pot on the stove but Steve's sitting on the couch.

"That took a long while." Steve muses looking over at you.

"Well- yeah I told you I was washing my hair, how long did you think it would take?" You scoff.

"I mean usually when Nat says she has to wash her hair it takes her like a half hour." He shrugs.

"Steve I- I don't know if you noticed this but Natasha and I have very different hair types so obviously hair care would be very different for her than it would be for me. Why does that surprise you?"

"I mean I guess I just didn't think about it all that much."

"Well, my hair's a lot thicker than hers so detangling it takes forever."

"So washing you hair takes an hour?!" He blinks at you in surprise.

"On a good day yeah." You nod.

"On a good day?!"

"Stick around long enough Stevie and you might get to experience an hour and a half long wash day." You shrug.

"Why would it take that long?" Steve shakes his head.

"Well because of how thick and curly it is, it tends to get tangled very easily and the longer I wait to wash it the more of a knot-fest it becomes, plus if I keep a protective style in for a long time there could be product build up that would mean I'd have to shampoo it more than once which of course takes more time- it's a process." You nod.

"Wow." He hums.

"Oh yeah, Black hair is lovely but it can be quite a process when it comes time to wash it." You laugh. "But I mean, you get used to it." You shrug.

"Next time you'll have to show me what's got you in there for an hour. I'm increasingly curious."

"Yeah we'll see about that love. What'd you make for dinner?" You ask walking into the kitchen.

"I just made spaghetti and meatballs. I'd have gone for something more time consuming if I knew you'd be an hour." Steve chuckles, standing from the couch to join you.

"Did you eat already then?"

"I wanted to wait for you."

"Oh! You could've eaten if you were-"

"Hey, no worries it's not like I was on the brink of starvation, I did eat other meals today and that's more than I could say once upon a time." Steve shrugs you off grabbing plates from the cabinet for the both of you.

"Steven- that was the thirties! You're way bigger than you were then and you've spent all afternoon training loser. There's no way you aren't hungry."

"I didn't say I wasn't hungry I said I wasn't going to die waiting for you." Steve laughs. The two of you make your plates and go back to the living room.

"I'm just saying you didn't have to wait for me." You say, wrapping your hair back up in your t-shirt.

"I like it better when we eat together." He shrugs.

"That's very cute." You giggle making Steve blush. You pick something for the two of you to watch while you eat, a TV show you and Steve have been watching together.

"Oh and what's with the t-shirt by the way? You have quite a few towels." Steve asks after a few minutes.

"My hair is picky. Towels can be too harsh a fabric so cotton t-shirts are just, the easiest way to go."

"Wow- do you just have t-shirts dedicated to you hair then?"

"Not technically. I mean there are shirts I use but I do also wear them, like they're not just for my hair."

"Oh okay. That's good to know." Steve nods.

"Geez this woman is so annoying!" You huff at the TV.

"Calm down- she's not even an important character." Steve laughs.

"Okay so why does she keep coming back?! Like she's so irritating!

"She makes for good drama I guess." He shrugs smiling at your animated reaction. You've only been together for about five months but Steve is starting to understand that he's probably going to have to learn a lot of new things with you and he's more than okay with that. He's maybe even excited. He can only hope he doesn't embarrass himself too badly along the way.

***

[merakiui]

we made it through another week mera!!! I hope you enjoy the weekend :3 drumroll for today's silly question of the day, badumdumdumdum........

worst v best hair in twst (and maybe hsr if u want!!!)

Thank you for all the posts and sharing ur brilliant ideas with us 💗

-🐔

Another week, done and dusted!!!!! ٩(ˊᗜˋ*)و please also enjoy your week, my lovely 🐔 anon!!!!!! (Also, I must thank you for always sending fun questions. I enjoy answering them!! >v<)

As for worst and best hair in twst, I will write my thoughts below. I’ll go by dorm, so there is no particular order or ranking. Truthfully, I just wrote my thoughts and simped a lot. ^^;;;

Riddle - I love his hair!!! It’s very cute and red!!! <3 the little heart-shaped ahoge........ he’s the perfect man. The only man to ever exist. orz

Ace - a very fun hairstyle!!! It just looks so,,,, poofy???? Like if I pat his head, his hair will spring right back up because it’s so fluffy??? >_< it’s difficult to describe, but I like his hair a lot. The style suits Mr. Ace wonderfully!!!

Deuce - the color is so pretty!!! Deep navy blue... aaaa so beautiful!!! I don’t have many thoughts regarding his hairstyle, but I do think it fits a lot! It’s a clean, simple style that reflects how Deuce is trying so hard to keep a clean record and become a respectable honors student!! :D

Trey - he’s lucky he’s so good-looking and husband material and that I’m down astronomically bad for him, otherwise I would not be so prone to hyping up his hairstyle. It feels so plain, but then that’s the image Trey has at first glance and I think that's so perfect because you’ll never suspect he is actually quite mischievous!

Cater - I LOVE HIM AND HIS HAIRSTYLE OOOOOOO OTL it’s so fun!!!! The color is also very vibrant!!! But also I like picturing his hair down! All of the artwork I have seen of it... omg he looks so pretty aaaaaa!!! T_T

Leona - HE HAS THE MOST GORGEOUS HAIR AAAAAAAA there’s something about it that’s just,,,,, omg!!!!! Breathtaking. He’s beautiful. So stunning and show-stopping... orz I want to frame him in a picture and always admire him like the artwork he is.

Jack - at first I wasn’t very partial to his hairstyle, but it’s actually very pretty and pleasant!! I like the color (I am not immune to anime men with white/grey hair hehe) and I also like how nicely his ears are situated within his hair. :D it just works so well!!!

Ruggie - rugs..... aaaa he has a cute, messy hairstyle. <3 the sandy blond and the brown is too pretty!!! I could look at him forever hehe. Also his ears!!!! They’re just so adorable. I want to pat him on the head and give him a scratch behind the ears, but I think he would definitely bite me or swat my hands away. ;;;

Azul - ew. terrible tako. worst hair. lame. boo. tomato tomato. >:( (I need him. His hair is so pretty and fluffy and soft and angelic and he is a masterpiece and he has the best hair to run your fingers through while you're making out and the shaved undercut is really cool and I need him and he is so pretty and wow omg he is magnificent and beautiful and best hair.)

Jade & Floyd - I think they might break my ribs if I told them that in the beginning not only did I think they were horrendously unattractive, boring, and unflattering to look at, but I also didn’t like their hairstyle. LOL and now look at where I am.... ^^;;; I have since corrected my ways and now I find their hairstyles very appealing, especially the single dyed strand. It ended up growing on me. I like how even their hairstyles differentiate them and Jade’s explanation of how his hair strand forms a J so it’s easier to tell him and Floyd apart if you look closely at that detail… it’s actually quite cute. :D

Kalim - YES YES YES I LIKE HIS HAIR A LOT!!!!! Another man with white/grey hair who I adore. Every turban-like headband he wears for each of his outfits goes very well with his hairstyle. I just really enjoy it!!! It’s another one that’s hard to describe, but his hairstyle looks so nice and cute. <3

Jamil - his hair…. Where do I even begin? Omg it’s so so sosososososo pretty!!!! OTL the length and braids throughout and even the little metal hair ties(?)/accessories he wears in his hair!!!!! He is stunning. He is the moment. He is everything you could ever want. I’ve always loved Jamil’s hair, especially how long and pretty it looks!!! The color itself is very flattering as well.

Vil - of course I also love Vil’s hairstyle, but this is to be expected considering Vil serves in every outfit and style that ever graces his form!!! He’s so pretty. I understand why Rook hypes him up so much. The soft lavender dye goes so well with the blond!! He is indeed the fairest of them all in my eyes. He’s just so stunning… orz Vil, I am your number one fan and supporter.

Rook - no comment.

Epel - aaaa eppy!!!! For a long while I had his exact hairstyle (and didn’t realize it until I was looking at card art for Epel and was left wondering why his hair looks so familiar), so naturally I love the style!!! His hair looks so soft and pretty, and the purple color is so nice to look at!!!

Idia - OMG HIS HAIR IS SO COOL (or maybe a better word is hot because it's fire)!!!!!!! It's an immaculate hair design... something about fire hair is so amazing, and it's blue and very long!!!! Seeing his hair in a braid in his applepom card continues to feed me. He's so cute. <3

Ortho - like Idia, Ortho's hair is also very cool because it's also fire!!! I find Ortho's entire design really interesting as well. Naturally, there's an explanation for why he is a robot (which is heartbreaking), but I still think it's a very neat character design. And his hair is so fun and bright!!! :D

Malleus - elegant... ethereal... he is beautiful... orz stunning. I bow before you and your beautiful hair, Mr. Horns.

Lilia - I have to appreciate Lilia and his beautiful hairstyle (even if the cut is,,,, certainly something). As someone who also loves to dye their hair neon pink, I must recognize his excellent hair. I also love the little hair strands that curl up to look like horns hehe!!

Silver - I am not immune to anime men with white/grey hair. Silver's hair looks so soft and gentle just like him. He's just so handsome and sweet. T_T like Kalim, Silver could do no wrong. The two of them are the biggest sweethearts in NRC.

Sebek - I genuinely do not know how to feel about his hair, but I think it's styled so cool. >:) he looks sharp. That's the only way I can describe my feelings. I feel as if I will touch his hair and it might cut me. >_< or Sebek himself will cut me before I dare lay a hand upon his head...

Che'nya - AAAA HIS HAIR!!!! Very cool!!!! He looks so scrunkly. No thoughts in his head except mischief. He is so :3c omg <3

Neige - the hairstyle makes him look so kind and gentle!!! I like the color as well. He could do no wrong. orz

Rollo - Rollo, I love you and I could defend you, but not when you're going out in public with that atrocious choir boy cut. But because his hair is white, he becomes even more appealing to me. Thus, I may be inclined to accept his hair. My friends may clown on me for liking him when he has that hairstyle, but he's cute to me. >:( he's lovely to me. He's boyfriend to me. >:(

Crowley - I will not lie....... the crow..... the annoying, cheap, oh-so-kind crow...... he's,,,,,,,,, kind of,,,,,, nice to look at........ although his hairstyle reminds me of seaweed and I don't know why. ^^;;;;

Crewel - WOOOOOOOOOOO forever barking for him. OTL the half white, half black hair... omg he's so cool. I need to be under him.

Trein - genuinely no thoughts on his hair, but he deserves only good things. :D

Vargas - also no thoughts on his hair, but there are thoughts of him and I will not pen them because I am kicking those thoughts away with all of my might.ヾ(｡ꏿ﹏ꏿ)ﾉﾞ

Sam - HIS LOCS!!!! OOOOHHH I ADORE IT!!!!! <3 <3 <3 <3 all of my love goes to Sam. He has such a lovely hairstyle. The purple as well!!!! <3 he's so wonderful and I need to write for him!!!!!

[jmdbjk]

Jungkook is all grown up ~ Min Yoongi, June 13, 2022

So, I guess we’ve all had a chance to restart our hearts and get our big girl undergarments changed after seeing this:

Is this the “climax” of what Kookie has been working on since early February? He's had an agenda all this time?

Jungkook has been trying to break out of this BABY star candy, golden BABY, BABY highness, giant BABY villain bubble he’s been in forever. I feel called out, JK. Let’s not kid ourselves though. He’s been grown up for a few years now.

JK biases/stans have always been horny over him and see him as his My Time performance sex god. It took me a while to view Kookie in that light. The muscles, the boxing, the tattoos, the piercings do not tickle that "sensation" in me as easily as it does for the JK biases. I'm resistant to his "charms."

I do love him but Jimin is the one who makes me think and feel things I won’t detail here. As I said to my bestie the other day: "I don't know why I feel that way about that skinny little thing." Seriously, the idea of a bias is so interesting though isn't it? So, just saying, the following is my point of view as I think out loud....

When I first saw this image:

… for a split second my brain registered "Jimin" and then went "huh?"…. hmmmmm. Of course it also went, wow, naked. Also I thought, let's get it JK... bring it.

And then upon seeing the rest of the images and his behind the scenes video I had to sit with it and think about it... the other similarities in the other images: the spikes, the grainy photo effect... very intriguing. They (Jimin and Jungkook) really do play off each other don't they?

As I'm processing all of this, I think about what I know:

They have a team of stylists. They have a team for content. They have teams for each member. They have staff. It's the "big machine" that Namjoon mentioned once. And the big machine all work in tandem.

What I’m assuming:

The teams may work on all or some of the members. For instance some people on the style team may work on Jimin and Jungkook but not on RM’s team. We don't know though. Might be one team who works on every single one of them and individuals are just delegated to doing the tasks.

More specifically, and also for example… I know Bit and Boot (the hair stylists) travels with them overseas. So I am going to assume the Bit n Boot team consists of a point person and several others who style their hair. Or maybe they are one and the same person. Or maybe several stylists. I don’t know. I'm assuming more than one because when they are overseas they need others to tend to the other members needs elsewhere.

I know the wardrobe team in the past has explained they get samples from clothing companies or design houses and they catalog them for future use. They meet with the members (at the time I saw this information the solo era had not begun yet) and determine what sort of look or concept will suit a particular theme. This is a very creative process in my opinion. And this one particularly would be involved in the members' solo concepts because other than the actual set surrounding the subject, its the clothing that conveys the vibe and theme.

So all that being said… seeing JK’s images very similar to Jimin’s is so interesting to me. I feel 99% sure it was not a coincidence nor was it incompetence or the ridiculous claim of “plagiarism.” I saw JK's smile when he saw Jimin commenting during his lives. I saw it when he was watching Jimin on tv. I saw him say wait until midnight when something amazing is coming (SMF MV) so don't try to tell me now that he's undermining Jimin's work.

There’s something else going on here that we don’t know what the goal is yet but copying Jimin is not it. JK is conveying his concept. I am a big proponent of the members making the choices and decisions for their solo work. I am 99% sure this was done intentionally. But why?

HOWEVER. THAT BEING SAID. I recall how much Kookie has been watching Jimin over the years. At least ten years now. And I feel strongly that Jimin has influenced JK tremendously. I feel like JK has learned how to be empathic and he’s learned about work ethic (though putting that into motion for him looks much different than it does for Jimin). And if Kookie thinks Jimin is sexy when he does [insert whatever it is Jimin does that turns Kookie on] then he might try to emulate that? Remember, I'm just thinking out loud here.

Or are they really just flipping us the bird and doing what they know turns each other on? That would be a fabulous joke on us. I would love it, to be honest. Jungkook has been vocal in the past whenever Jimin has shown his sexy side and he's been pretty obviously obsessed with him in his lives lately too.

Anyway...

We may never know, it might be a mystery forever why the image concepts are so similar. We can make up all the theories we want (and we do) and make assumptions and “put two and two together” reading between the lines, but knowing exactly what was going through their heads is something we’ll never know unless they tell us.

Is there something in the near future that this is all leading to? I guess we have to wait and see… (don’t you hate it when someone says that?)

Maybe it will be for the long awaited Jikook collab? I had a video concept that I sketched out roughly for my bestie yesterday but now I'm going to elaborate on it: JKxJM collab, the MV opens with Jimin stepping out of his Like Crazy MV set with the mud splattered pants and JK stepping out of his Seven MV set in his oversized outfit and they start taking off their clothes but underneath each layer are their "look alike" clothes and there is layer upon layer they have to take off and its comical because there are so many couple outfits they've worn over the years, until finally they get down to the white tank tops and boxer shorts and then they break it down in the mother of all dance breaks that will break the internet and slough off the dead meat of the fandom and then when the song is over, they walk off the set arms over each other in a giggling fit.

Why hasn't BigHit hired me yet? My brain is full of these uniquely creative ideas that will never see the light of day.

[lilac-dawn-103]

Draco Malfoy Headcanons

(Because it's time for the revival of my Harry Potter phase)

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Hey so,, Hi. This blog has been sat postless for too long so to hell with waiting to think of aesthetic things to post. Have some Draco headcanons because I've been having crazy brainrot recently. Hope you enjoy~

(this is assuming he isn't an absolute prick like he was intended to be in the books.)

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- Dimples. He has the cutest damn dimples anyone has ever seen. People don't often see them because he doesn't smile quite bright enough, but they're there and it's vv cute.

- Silver jewelry. Mostly rings. There's a couple that he never takes off but then he has afew that he switches out depending on what he's wearing.

- Speaking of clothes,, bro has a stupidly good sense of fashion. If you want an honest opinion on an outfit, go to this man. As for himself, he takes forever in the morning to choose the perfect outfit, and he always looks good.

- Has a thing for glasses, inexplicably so. He just finds them generally adorable. For some reason though, he does find thick-rimmed glasses much cuter.

^^ To follow up on that, he also does random things for his partner if they have glasses like pushing them up or randomly taking the glasses and cleaning them.

- With his partner, his arm always manages to find its way around their waist. He finds it very comforting to keep them so close, plus it's a sort of instinct. It's very cute if he's just with his partner in the library looking for books and his arm snakes its way around them.

- If, miraculously, he knows any Muggle music, it's definitely stuff from the 60s and 70s. Probably jazz in particular. He just gives those vibes.

^^ Favourites are probably Frank Sinatra and maybe Elvis??

- Building upon him knowing about Muggle stuff, I feel like he'd really enjoy slushies?? Maybe it's in a streak of rebellion against his father's perfect vision for Draco, but he loves a slushie. His favourite is probably blue raspberry, though he hates that it makes his tongue bright blue.

- Since Narcissa is probably quite busy alot (rich people things idk-), so when he was younger Draco learnt how to style hair. He does his mother's hair pretty often and he's actually very good at doing it. His speciality is probably braids; quite easy to learn at a young age and you can do lots with them.

^^ Because of this, if you have long hair and you're a close friend of his, you best believe he'll style your hair for you if you ask. He even carries around a couple of hair bands in case.

If his partner has long hair, he loves to just play with it and run his hands through their hair to relax. He also randomly does little braids in their hair, and finds it quite theraputic.

- Poor thing probably has some kind of anxiety. I think it gets worsened by the pressure his dad most definitely puts on him. Draco always seems abit fidgety when it gets close to the Christmas and Summer holidays because he has to go back to such high expectations n such. (Poor boy :((( )

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And that is all! Probably could think of loads more but I need time for my brain juices to start working more. Anyways, hope you enjoyed! :))

Edit: forgot to tag @sugarschnaps since they came up with some of these headcanons, so... Ty bestie love u mwah