#girl there are singers that age out there that sound GOOD did you know that.

[eddie-rifff]

i feel like the people geeking out over the grandpas on instagram with weak singing voices doing lana del rey covers just don’t know that there are old people out there that age that actually sound really good and that earle from minnesota really is not doing anything special and in fact kind of sucks

[b3ach-bunn7]

DONT SMILE

Dabi is your unfairly attractive bandmate, and the two of you stay late in the studio to finish a song (and each other)

NSFW, BandAU, head on both ends if u get my drift

(Guys this is my first time writing smut plz be nice 🙏)

(Also song used in the fic + title is don’t smile by Sabrina c plz listen)

—————————————————————————

The sound of Dabi absentmindedly plucking his bass fills the studio. He’s lounging across the couch, legs holding up the dark blue instrument as his fingers drag over the frets lazily. He’s wearing a vest, the white fabric stretched tight over his skin. The jeans he’s wearing are slung low on his hips, and you avert your eyes as he adjusts them, hips lifting from their place on the couch to drag them down.

You’re on the other end of the room, swinging back and forth on a desk chair. The room is hot. The studio was small, the same one your band, LOV, had started out in. Despite being more than popular enough to rent something bigger, there’s a weird obligation you all feel, too attached to where you started to ever leave. You and Dabi are supposed to be writing new songs,  working on stuff for the upcoming album, but you’re not bothered. You can’t think. As the lead singer, lyrics are usually your forte but you’ve got no energy for it. The others aren’t even here, and that only makes you want to work even less. That, and the fact that Dabi is an ample distraction.

He groans from the couch. You glance at him over your shoulder. He’s looking at you impatiently.

“Let’s go home. I’m sick of this shit.”

You sigh, leaning your head back on the chair. “No, we have to stay. We haven’t written anything in ages.”

“Uhm, speak for yourself. I have some things. Riffs.” He plays something small to demonstrate and you roll your eyes.

“And how is that any help without everyone else here? We need all instruments present to actually make a song.” 

Dabi huffs. He places the bass to the side, stretching. His arms reach above his head, shirt lifting up to reveal his happy trail and you sigh.

Of course Dabi is attractive. It doesn’t take a genius to figure that out. And yes, you also find his personality attractive. He was funny, that calm confidence he always spoke in, his flirty nature, it was all alluring. You’d see him dragging enough girls out the tour bus in the mornings to know you aren’t the only one who feels this way. Unfortunately though, the amount of women he’d been with, plus the fact it’s never a good idea to date a bandmate, means you keep your distance.

This doesn’t stop him from flirting with you at every available second. You’d like to say that you’re immune to it, but that unfaltering attention from Dabi isn’t something you think you could ever get used to.

“What about you? You got any lyrics down?” He asks. 

You frown. You walk over to him, nudging his legs over. You sit next to him and he leans over your shoulder to read the scribbled notes you’d been writing the past couple hours. You huff, pushing his leg further away from yours. It’s currently pressed flush against yours, and his thigh is warm. He’s always so warm.

“Can you stop manspreading?” You mumble, pushing his leg away.

“Aw, you know you love it.” He grins, leaning even closer, eyes never leaving your notes. 

You roll your eyes, but you don’t do much to fight the close proximity. His hand reaches up to stabilise the paper and his fingertips brush the back of your hand. 

“Mediocre.” 

You gape. “Mediocre? I’d like to see you write any better.” You snatch the paper from him and he shrugs.

“It's not bad. It’s just too sappy. Nobody believes that romantic shit is actually real.” He says. 

You bite your lip, thinking. Dabi’s criticism is enough to have you doubting the whole song, and you groan. “Why did you have to say that? Now I hate it.”

“Good.”

You knock his side with your elbow and he tuts. 

“You asked.”

“I didn’t.” You go to elbow him again but he grabs it before you can. You think you can feel the callouses on the tips of his fingers as his hand touches your bare skin. You shrug him off. 

“You asked to see, but I didn’t ask for any feedback.” You say.

Dabi sits up slightly. He tilts his head, strands of black hair dipping to the side. His eyes flit over you quickly.

“Well. We’re a team, no? Don’t you want my feedback?”

You lean your head against the back of the couch. “I guess.”

He reaches over to grab the paper again. “Good girl.”

You flush slightly. “Don’t call me that.”

“You love it.”

You decide it’s better for the both of you if you don’t answer that. You look at the vinyl hung up on the walls, the pictures of you guys at award shows. Anything to distract you from the man sitting next to you.

“I think you should flip it.”

You turn to him now, and he’s already looking up at you. “What?”

“You see like this line? ‘Don’t cry because it’s over baby smile because it happened?’ Swap it so it’s like, ‘Don’t smile because it happened baby, cry because it’s over’.” 

You furrow your brows. “That’s depressing as hell, though. It’s meant to be a love song.” 

“That’s love, though.” He slides the paper back into your hands. “Depressing as shit.”

You scoff. “What do you know about love?”

He grins then, so boyish and teasing. “Wouldn’t you like to know.”

“Yeah, that’s why I asked.”

He huffs a laugh. “Love is overrated. That’s what I know.”

You roll your eyes. “You sound stupid. This isn’t some Disney channel movie, love isn’t overrated.” 

“Hm. Agree to disagree.”

You quickly get up to grab a pen. You could sit further away, but you plant yourself right where you were before, and you ignore the knowing look Dabi gives you. “Okay, help me change the other lyrics then. Since this is now a hate song.”

Dabi laughs. “Not hate. Just not love either. A nice in between.”

“Hush. Okay, so this song is about. Well it’s about being okay with a breakup.”

“Is that the case for most people though? I mean, go the other way. Write a song about the pining, the feelings you can’t get over. Not being okay with a breakup.”

You always see Dabi at his most passionate when he’s talking about music. He spends most of his days lazy and indifferent, but now, his eyes shine brightly as he speaks, as animated as you see him get. You smile slightly, nodding.

“Okay. That sounds good. You have to help me though.” 

“God, if I have to.” 

The two of you sit for the next few minutes, squabbling and disagreeing half the time. You think the songs too negative and Dabi assures you it’s not.

“I mean, it’s all about the singer being in love with someone she doesn’t have. This line, ‘I want you to miss me’ or this one, about ‘thinking about me when you hold her’. It’s depressing, no?”

“But that’s what relationships are like.”

You slump back. You’re now cross legged on the couch, Dabi the same, the two of you conferring over the sheets of paper in front of you. There’s ink on your fingertips from writing and you tap the pen on your chin.

“Not necessarily. Not always.”

Dabi shrugs. “Definitely not always. But we can write about when it is. We’ve got plenty of love songs, but. We don’t have many focusing on this.”

“What’s this?”

Dabi paused for a second. It’s silent for a second too long, and you look up at him to see he’s already looking at you. There’s an expression on his face you don’t recognise. You smile slightly, confused, and it seems to jog him out of his silence.

“That longing. Wanting something, someone, so badly and not being able to have them. The pain of it.” 

He speaks softly, his voice nearly a whisper just between the two of you. You notice suddenly, the proximity between the two of you. If you just lean forward a few inches, you’d be touching. 

“You really think a relationship should be that hard? That painful?”

“No one writes good songs about the ones that come easy.”

You laugh softly. You scratch your chin. “Okay. That’s good, then. Let’s finish the rest.”

The two of you sit there, working away. You’ve never really been this alone with Dabi, not this late at night. There’s no windows in the studio, but you know from time and the fact sleep aches under your skin that it’s late. Somehow, you end up  closer. Dabi reaches over to write something and your hands brush, you stretch and your arms touch. Both of you are desperately trying to get in contact just once, just for a second. After what feel like forever you throw your pen to the floor.

“God. I’m done. I’m tired.” You suddenly say.

“Yeah, I think we’re done here.” Dabi speaks through a yawn, dropping the papers on the coffee table in front of him. 

You curl up on the couch, propping your head against Dabi’s shoulder. “You know when the next rehearsal is?” He asks.

Dabi scratches at the scruff on his chin and you think for a second. “Two days, I’m pretty sure” 

Dabi curses softly under his breath. “I don’t think I can make it.”

“Uh, why not?”

“I’m busy.”

“Doing what?”

“Doing who, more like.”

You sit up. “Who?”

Dabi grins. He brings his arms up to rest on the back of the couch. “You jealous, baby?”

“I’m not jealous of your little groupies.” You scoff. 

Dabi barks out a laugh. “Groupies? The fuck are you talking about?”

It’s your turn to laugh. “Oh, come on! Last tour you brought one back like, every night.”

“They wanted autographs!”

“Fuck off!” You laugh. “Those were very vocal autographs. You do realise the tour bus walls are very thin?” There’d been nights when you’d felt like you were in the room with them. 

“Aw, if you wanted to get involved all you had to do was ask.” Dabi pouts, his voice teasing.

“Shut up, you pervert. You wish.”

“I do wish.” 

“Degenerate.”

He reaches a hand up to brush a strand of your hair behind your ear. You freeze slightly and when he moves his hand away you turn, knowing the bright lights won’t hide the red on your face.

“Didn’t mean to be so loud. They can’t help it, you know. Not when I’m there.”

You scoff. “Right. Is that where you learnt all about love?”

“You could say. I know they loved it.”

It was no secret that Dabi slept around. You’d all been victim to the girls he took to bed, screaming his name late into the night when you’d all be trying to sleep after a show. Yeah, you’d had sex before, but it had never been like that. Didn’t have you yelling the way they did. It did make you wonder, some nights.

But you’re not going to let him know that. Your face twists in disgust. “Gross. I don’t need to know that.”

“Really?”

“Yes really.”

Dabi sighs. He sits up slightly. “Shame. I’d show you such a good time if you’d let me.”

And that has you thinking.

Because there he goes again, flirting and saying such suggestive things. You never play along because you always argue that he’s just joking. He doesn’t mean it. And you could shut it down right now. Really. One shove of his shoulder, one excuse that you’re tired and he’s being gross would have him backing off.

But Dabi is looking at you under impossibly long lashes, impossibly blue eyes trailing over your body, before they land back on your face.  He’s looking at you like he’s not joking anymore, and the part of you that wants to scream like those girls did has you meeting his gaze with competition. 

“Really?”

If he looks shocked at your reply, he doesn’t show it. He just inches closer. “Of course. You know I’d treat you right. If you’d let me.” 

You're a breath away from each other. You’re not sure how, but you’re both sitting up again, face to face. You can smell the cigarette smoke that always seems to linger around him, the too strong cologne that never manages to hide it. This close you can see freckles on his face, so light you don’t think you ever would’ve noticed them otherwise. You want to reach out and touch them but you’re frozen. Waiting.

The both of you are silent. You let it linger, wait for him to make the next move. 

“You’re gorgeous. Do you know that? I’m always watching you on stage. When you’re singing. Can’t get enough of you.”

He reaches a hand up. A hand rests on your shoulder, right against your pulse. His fingers curl up against your face, trailing down your cheek.

“And those groupies you were talking about? Fuck, I wish it was you. Wish it was you I was making scream on my tongue, do you know that?” 

You don’t say anything. You don’t think you could if you tried. Dabi smiles.

“You know you do this thing. When we’re working. You always bite on the end of the pen.” 

His fingers trail over your lips. His thumb rubs at your chin. 

“Drives me fucking crazy.”

Your breath hitches as his hand curls around your neck with more purpose.

“I’m gonna kiss you now. That okay?”

You nod.

“I need to hear you say it, baby.”

“Yes, yes it’s okay-“

Your words are breathless and desperate but no more desperate than Dabi is when he pulls you forward, crashes his lips against yours. He makes a sound, almost whining as he curls a hand in your hair. And it’s like everything you always thought it would be, as fast and as hot as you’d imagined. The hand on your neck reaches down, dipping under your shirt and pulling it over your head. You’re only in your bra, and you feel shy suddenly. Because you’re not the prettiest girl he’s ever met, you know that. Your arms curl around your body and he pulls away for just one second to shake his head, breathing heavily. His hands pull your arms away, grabbing both your wrists in one.

“Don’t do that, baby. I wanna see you.” He murmurs.

He kisses down your neck. His lips suck marks into your skin, and you should tell him to stop because people will see it all tomorrow but you want him to mark you up. You want him to see them tomorrow, see them at rehearsals and remember it was him who put them there.

He licks at your pulse and he pulls back. He reaches behind and with one hand, unclips your bra. The ease in which he does it should alarm you slightly, but then he continues down, and his hands on your breasts is enough to render any thoughts in your head useless. He grabs them both and he groans.

“These tits. So soft, so beautiful.” He whispers the words into your skin like they’re not even meant for you.

He pinches your left nipple before sucking it into your mouth. You whine, hands reaching up into his hair, tugging at his shirt. Because you suddenly feel horribly underdressed compared to him, shirtless as he moves to give attention to your other nipple. He tugs his shirt up quickly, and you let your hands travel up his torso. You feel the lean muscle under his arms, trace the scars across his body. He lets go suddenly. 

“Come on, baby. Take these off.” He tugs at your jeans and you quickly slips them off. His hands slips your underwear away as well, throwing them to the side. 

Dabi moves quickly into the floor until he’s kneeling in front of you, arms resting on your legs as he spreads your thighs apart.

“Dabi? What- What are you doing?”

“You call me Touya when I make you come on my tongue, you hear me?”

You curse, breath hitching as he kisses the soft skin of your thighs, fingers rubbing up and down the side of your hip. “It’s okay. You don’t- You don’t have to.”

Dabi, or Touya now, looks confused. He tilts his head slightly, lips red and kissed out, hair mussed from where you had been grabbing it. “Have to? I’ve been dreaming about this pussy for so long, baby, you don’t even know.” 

He looks at you with so much want in his eyes. He bites softly into your thigh and you squeal, and he grins. 

“If it was up to me, I’d sit you on my face and eat you out until you can’t speak, but. We’re on a time crunch here.” 

He presses a chaste kiss to your clit and you shudder. Two fingers reach and part your folds and Dabi makes a low sound in the back of his throat.

“So wet. Is this all for me?”

“Touya, stop teasing.” You huff, squirming in your place.

Touya drags his fingers down, face so close you can feel his breaths. “Ask me nicely.”

“Please, Touya.” You grit out, sitting up in your elbows to glare down at him.

“Please what?”

“Please-“ Your cheeks flush red because he’s not even looking at you. His eyes are focused between your legs like he’s seen heaven between them.

“Please, make me cum, you prick.” You say with a shiver.

And it’s that tiny shiver that seems to set him off because he��s suddenly kissing and sucking at your lips, tongue digging inside your pussy and tracing circles around your clit. Your hips rock forward as you moan, and he holds you down easily so he can continue.

You have been eaten out a few times before. It never felt like something to enjoy, the boyfriend or hookup always doing it to get something over with, to tick a box. But what makes your toes curl, what makes you inch that much closer to cumming, is the fact that Dabi is eating you like a man starved. He’s groaning, eyes fluttering shut as he takes slow, purposeful mouthfuls of your pussy like he’s doing it for him and not you. 

“Taste so good. You been hiding this from me?”

“Touya- fuck.” You grab his hair and tug, and he moans.

“Yeah, good girl. Do that again.” 

You comply, his name a ramble on your lips as your hips buck again. Your core aches and you voice reaches an embarrassingly high pitch as he kisses your clit again. It takes an embarrassingly short time for you to reach the edge. “Da-Touya, I’m, I’m close,” you breathe, hands clutching at the couch beneath you.

Touya detaches himself from you, eyes glancing up at you. “Yeah? You’re close?”

You nod, whine caught in your throat. Your hips jolt forward as he begins trailing slow circles over your clit with his finger. You whine at the slow contact.

“You wanna cum?”

“Yes. Yes, Touya, please.” You breathe.

“You wanna cum on my tongue, baby?” He whispers and you keen, hand reaching down to tug at his hair again, trying to drag him closer.

“Fucking- Touya, I’ll do it myself if I have to.” 

He laughs at that, quickly returning his attention back between your legs. It’s embarrassingly loud as he sucks at your clit, two fingers reaching inside you to press against that spot that has you moaning his name once more. 

“Good girl, so fucking pretty cumming all over my face.” He groans.

And then you cum, and Touya easily holds your hips down as they shake, his own grinding into the floor beneath him, and he takes you through an orgasm that racks through your body. You think you might pass out from the pleasure that crashes over you so suddenly. His hands grab at your chest, your neck, and when he kisses you again you can taste yourself on his tongue.

He smiles at you again, this time more elated, a wild look in his eyes. 

“You’re gorgeous, you know that?” It takes you a minute before you can reply. You do so but gesturing him up in his feet.

“Here. Come, get up.” You speak suddenly, still breathing heavily.  

Touya looks confused for a second. You drag him up onto the couch, and your eyes trail down, to the obvious bluge in his trousers. And he looks big judging by it, and you think you’re already ready to get off again.

“Your turn. Come on, take these off.” You tap your fingers on his jeans and take his place on the floor.

“God, you know just what to say to a man.”

“Shut up.” 

He uses one hand to unbuckle his belt and he’s just showing off now, you know, but it’s hot and he knows it is. He pulls his jeans down his legs and you let them pool at his feet. And when you pull his cock out it’s long and thick, you find the source of all his arrogance. He catches you looking and he huffs a laugh. His breath hitches as you slide your fingers up the side, tongue reaching out to lick at the tip, hard and leaking precum.

“You know, you always, fuck, you always deny it, sweetheart, but look at you.” He groans as you lick a stripe up his cock. “On your knees for me.” 

“I always imagined taking you right here, in the studio, bending you over this couch and fucking you until you’re screaming nothing but my name, squirming and begging on my dick.” Your thighs clench and he sees it, a nasty smirk on his face as you take him into your mouth.

“You want that too, angel? Want me to make you scream so loudly everyone comes in and, shit, sees you cumming on my cock? You want that?” 

You don’t say anything, can’t, because he fills your mouth so full that you couldn’t speak if you wanted to. His hand reaches into you hair, guiding your head up and down his dick, low moans and grunts leaving his mouth. He’s so vocal, you realise, an endlesss stream of barely coherent praise leaving his mouth as you use yours.

“Fuck, yeah sweetheart, fuck.” His hips buck into your mouth and you nearly choke.

“Come on, I know you can take it. Good girl, good fucking girl.” He groans, pulling your head down further.

Your eyes flutter shut and Touya reaches down with his free hand to brush the tears that fall down your cheeks. You grab into his thighs, nails digging into his skin.

“Taking me so well, baby. Always so fucking mouthy. So pretty when you use it right.” He breathed heavily, jerking into your mouth again.

He starts fucking into your mouth, and you swipe your tongue underneath his dick, the vein that runs down it and he stutters, breathy curses leaving his lips.

“Gonna cum, fuck.” 

Your name slips past his lips in tandem as he bucks into your mouth one last time. Your mouth fills and you swallow, and he pats your cheek as you look back up at him, gasping for breath you pull back. His chest heaves and his eyes are shining brightly again but for a very different reason. You trace the scratches you left on his thighs and he in turns rubs a finger on the hickeys that leave a telling trail down your body.

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i get so cringed out when i write smut but i wanted to do it so i powered through!!! plz give me any tips if u think its bad i greatly appreciate it. i also had noooo idea how to end this oneshot so i lowkey just stopped writing LMAO

anyway.... bass player dabi u live on in my heart kisses forever

[marybeatriceofmodena]

What did Andrew Lloyd Webber do to make Patti Lupone upset? Sorry, saw your tags and i was curious

Oh.

Oh honey.

You sweet child.

Anyway, get ready for one of the most infamous showdowns in all musical theatre history, with the guy who writes the straightest musicals on Broadway (derogatory) and the one and only, the matriarch, the queen, two three-time Tony award winner Patti LuPone.

So, Andrew Lloyd Webber was basically kind of a boy genius in his prime - he met his future collaborator Tim Rice when they were 17 and 20 respectively, he wrote his first big hit, Jesus Christ Superstar, at 22, with Tim Rice writing the lyrics. And it was kind of a big deal at the time because the topic was controversial (you know, the Passion with rock music), but also because Broadway wasn't that far off from its golden age and let's just say the music and style were very different from, say, My Fair Lady. Or The Sound of Music. Or Funny Girl. It was basically the Rent/Hamilton of its time. (Yeah, Stephen Sondheim was around at that time, he worked on West Side Story which was revolutionary in of itself, but he's kind of an oddball in this case. You'll understand why later.)

Their real follow up (I'm not counting Joseph and the Amazing Technicolor Dreamcoat for a variety of reasons) was a little musical called Evita, which you might know mainly because of a song called Don't Cry For Me Argentina. Or at least, your mom has probably heard it once at the very least. It's that song that's oversung from a musical while being out of context along with I Dreamed a Dream for Les Misérables. Or Memory from Cats.

Evita tells the story of Eva Peron, the wife of an Argentinian dictator, who basically screws her way to the top and ends up becoming the mistress of Juan Peron and the most beloved woman in her country through guile and deceit. Yes, I know the historical accuracy is very much debated but I know jackshit about Argentina's history except the bare basics so don't come at me. It was first produced in the West End in London, with Elaine Paige in the role, but because of Equity issues, she couldn't reprise her role for the Broadway production. So a Julliard graduate who was mostly starring in David Mamet plays got the part instead, and that was Patti LuPone.

Patti... did not have a good time during Evita, because the part is basically the kind of score where you can tell the composer is used to writing male parts, but most female singers have a two-octave range (yes, you got Julie Andrews who used to have a three-octave range, and many others, but they're exceptions), so she struggled a lot. That being said, if you listen to live recordings of her, you wouldn't be able to tell, and it got a lot easier later on. But she had this to say:

"Evita was the worst experience of my life. I was screaming my way through a part that could only have been written by a man who hates women. And I had no support from the producers, who wanted a star performance onstage but treated me as an unknown backstage. It was like Beirut, and I fought like a banshee."

This is from Patti's autobiography, which she wrote in 2007 - 8 years after shit with ALW went down. With all that said, she won a Tony Award for Evita, and she pretty much became a musical theatre household name from then on. She played Fantine in Les Misérables, Nancy in Oliver!, Reno Sweeney in Anything Goes. Meanwhile, ALW's next big hits were Cats (I'm not even kidding, Cats was a hit), and, you guessed it, The Phantom of the Opera, which he wrote in part to showcase his then wife Sarah Brightman's triple threat talents.

So, you need to understand before I continue that ALW, from my perspective, has always had a bit of an inferiority complex. He's basically associated to writing these commercially successful musicals that show a big spectacle but aren't ultimately substantial. I'm not sure I entirely agree with that, but I do think that if he didn't have Hal Prince, Maria Bjornson, Charles Hart and Gillian Lynne backing him up for Phantom, it would have probably been a Rocky Horror Picture Show knockoff people would have forgotten about pretty quickly. This is what I mean:

Yep, that was Phantom before any of the people I mentioned above (and Michael Crawford) were really involved.

Remember how I said Stephen Sondheim was an oddball? The thing with him is that his musicals weren't always commercially successful, but in general, in part thanks to being Leonard Bernstein's protégé, he was generally pretty well-respected and it was considered that his work was bringing musicals to a whole other level. Without Sondheim, you wouldn't have Jonathan Larson, and you wouldn't have Lin-Manuel Miranda. I am convinced ALW is resentful of that, and when you stop and think about it for more than 10 seconds, it's so obvious he REALLY wants to be Sondheim or at least command the same level of respect, but that's a story for another day.

So, after Phantom, ALW had other musicals that followed that either got a meh reception or outright flopped. Then there was Sunset Boulevard, which is based on the movie of the same name with Gloria Swanson. Despite all of her griefs for Evita, Patti LuPone agreed to partake in the musical as Norma Desmond, for its production in London, with the promise that she would transfer to Broadway once that production would open. And overall, after a string of flops, Sunset was actually doing pretty well.

HOWEVER. One day, while reading the gossip column of a newspaper, Patti found out that contrary to what she was promised, Glenn Close, who was meanwhile starring as Norma in the Los Angeles production, was to play Norma on Broadway. That was a complete surprise for her since no one on the production team had bothered to tell her it was happening - and keep in mind that for the news to come up the way it did in a gossip column, it probably would have necessitated a delay of a few weeks between the producers and the newspaper, which would have given them plenty of time to break the news to Patti. And Patti kind of needed the leg up because she was pretty bitter that a) Madonna was cast in the Evita adaptation instead of her; b) they actually lowered the key to fit Madonna's voice range, and she still had to expand her own to be able to sing the (lowered) score. And trust me, Patti is mad about it to this day.

So of course, she trashed her dressing room, the cast and crew weren't even mad about it because they were as shocked and angered as she was by the news. Patti sued Andrew Lloyd Webber for breach of contract, namely for 1 MILLION DOLLARS (yup, those are the real numbers), won, used the money she got from the lawsuit to get a swimming pool, which she called (and I SHIT YOU NOT) the Andrew Lloyd Webber Memorial Pool. Since then, Webber is dead to her, to the point rumor has it she had part of a building blocked during an event so she could get out of it without coming across Webber, because she hates him so flipping much she doesn't even want to be in the same building as the guy.

(There's also drama that happened with Faye Dunaway who was supposed to replace Glenn Close after she went from Los Angeles to Broadway, except they abruptly closed the show down after Close left, but that's a story for another day)

So with all the bad press, and with ALW forced to pay 1 million dollars for Patti's lawsuit, that led Sunset's productions to close earlier than expected. ALW has stayed around since, with... mitigated output, so to say. The lowest point for a lot of people is Love Never Dies, the sequel to Phantom, which some people love, and that's fine, but it didn't do well with either critics nor fans of the original show, which ALW is EXTREMELY BUTTHURT ABOUT. And like, there are so many stories I could tell about LND alone, but I will share my own crack theory about it, since it does relate to the ask.

Anyway, buckle up.

So. There have been jokes going around for years that the Phantom in LND is basically ALW's self-insert, where he displays to the world that he's totally not over Sarah Brightman leaving him (in part because making Phantom kinda ruined their marriage lmao), despite, you know, having married since. (Aaaaaakward.) So LND basically becomes this really uncomfortable therapy session where a man writes a self-insert musical about how his ex-wife made a big mistake of leaving a sensitive artistic soul such as himself. The characters from Phantom who appear in LND are all more or less unrecognizable as a result, and one who gets it worse (in my humble opinion) is Meg Giry, who was basically Christine's sweet and loyal ballerina friend who basically went into the Phantom's lair on her own to save her friend despite the danger. In LND, she's basically a bitter hag (because ALW hates women, guess Patti was right about that), who really likes the swim and even has a stripping vaudeville number about it, written in universe by the Phantom, no less.

For comparison, here's Don Juan Triumphant (the Phantom's opera in the original):

And here's Bathing Beauty (the vaudeville number):

Yeah, so... do you see why people hate LND already?

And that's not the only thing with Meg! She's also pining for the Phantom to pay attention to her and threatens to drown the Phantom and Christine's secret love child when he makes it clear that he's gonna love Christine for EVA AND EVA.

So, with everything we learned today about ALW, would someone like him view someone like Patti LuPone as some sort of crazy, bitter diva who's obsessed with him for whatever reason? Absolutely. Would he be petty enough to insert Patti LuPone into his self-insert musical, which gave us the version of Meg Giry we got in LND? Of course. Why does Meg love to swim so much and why does she drag Gustave out ostensibly for a swim? Is it a dig at Patti's Andrew Lloyd Webber Memorial Pool? Maybe.

I kind of hope we find out one day if that theory is true. And maybe start a kickstarter so Patti can add this painting from the 2004 movie in her collection.

Fun fact: during the process of casting for the 2004 movie adaptation of POTO, ALW allegedly suggested Patti LuPone to play Carlotta... only for Joel Schumacher to have to awkwardly remind him that they were not on speaking terms. The idea was therefore promptly dropped.

[satoruhour]

HE PLAYS BASS !

a/n: modern au bc i cant handle any angst rn. i ramble a lot in this to set the scene teehee. not beta read, gn btw / tagging @crysugu @slttygeto @getousex :3

wc: 3k ish

warnings: bass guitarist!geto, soft dom!geto, he is respectful of your boundaries, both geto and reader smoke weed, shotgun kiss, sexual acts under the influence, fingering, clit stimulation, implied second round, implied cunnilingus, dry humping, praise, n*sfw under the cut

bass guitarist!geto who has had an interest in music and its instruments since being a little boy, practically begging his parents to enrol him in some guitar classes. with fingers strumming the nylon strings alongside complicated chords on the frets felt so right that since then he and his guitar have been inseparable since.

bass guitarist!geto who gets to know the guitar so well that he masters guitar solo after guitar solo, playing songs by ear in his free time and thought lead guitar was all there was to music until the age of fifteen where he stumbles across a song with a bass line that sounded absolutely heavenly — through the 240p quality of the youtube video, he watched the bassist dish out the heavy beats, always in the background yet detrimental to making the band sound complete.

bass guitarist!geto who leaped at the opportunity to buy a bass guitar with whatever money he had to purchase a Squier bass — it was a little shitty in sound but it was cheap, something affordable for a middle schooler. suguru didn’t care. he perfected the use of his bass guitar, already having the basics down from playing guitar; his room is filled with posters, picks, pieces of displaced lyrics.

bass guitarist!geto only has the chance two years later to ask his new friends if they wanted to jam out together and down the line, if they wanted to form a band. it was a clueless band of boys (with shoko of course) in some room of gojo satoru’s luxury house where his parents don’t care to ask him to keep the noise down like suguru’s parents do.

bass guitarist!geto fights to get a spot to audition for one of tokyo’s biggest music festivals a few months later. if they won they would get more recognition, more support, even if they haven’t figured out the specifics of how to operate a band. with gojo as the singer, shoko on the lead and nanami on drums, they would find out what they had.

bass guitarist!geto who breaks that stereotype of the bassist being ignored throughout a performance. he thinks it could be because of his longer hair and his newly bought gauges, and he thought he didn’t look too shabby himself — although he isn’t surprised to see most of the girls fawn over gojo as he sang lyrics of an original song, courtesy of the joint effort between geto and shoko.

bass guitarist!geto who gives judges the finger after they said they couldn’t perform originals at an audition, blacklisting them for future performances — but gojo sees it as a win when he has a hoard of new fans waiting outside to get a photo with him with autographs that differed from each paper his pen made contact with. later, he bursts out laughing when gojo says he hadn’t even thought of a proper signature yet and just ‘did whatever on their paper’.

bass guitarist!geto whose band gained popularity fast because of everyone’s good looks, singing at that same place they auditioned at, but now with repertoire under their belt. it’s then that they’re already all in university, and yet everyone’s still incredibly passionate.

bass guitarist!geto who spots you in the crowd together with your friends, jamming out to their set, but while your friends’ eyes are locked on gojo who’s loving the attention, nanami who can’t give a shit and shoko who’s too focused on her solo, you manage to draw geto’s eyes to you. he spends the rest of the set locking eyes with you, amidst other things like sending you winks and licking his lips until you’re under his spell. all throughout he doesn’t lose the rhythm, but he does slip-up from time to time and there’s a panicked look that nanami sends to geto for messing up his rhythm.

bass guitarist!geto who sees you at his next show alone, smiling up at him right at the front row while he’s trying not to mess up after the last time. this time he has a chance to show you what he’s got in a bass solo, losing himself in the music until even you fades off and you’re truly seeing the bassist for who he is. he’s easing back into the main melody of the song but not before leaning over the speakers with a knee on the floor, hovering right over you before shoko takes over and he’s back to his heavy beats.

bass guitarist!geto who brushes off the teasing after the set ends, only to be bombarded with more of it when he sees you on campus — no way you’re in the same school as him, walking around with your cute outfits and laughing along to your friend’s joke with no care in the world.

bass guitarist!geto who doesn’t have much trouble charming you into hanging out with him, already recognising him from far away when he’s got his long flowy hair and gauges and tight black shirt and tall stature — you aren’t realising he’s asking you if it’ll be okay for you to head over to his dorm room. you’re getting pushed by your friends behind you to say yes with giggles and gossip, and of course you weren’t going to reject the hot guy you missed class and ditched friends for.

bass guitarist!geto who shows you his room and tells you to let him know if he’s made you uncomfortable in any way. in the background, there’s a faded, soft song that continues to play that really completes the dorm, immediately hitting it off until he starts to roll a joint a while later, offering it to you with a raise of his eyebrow.

“oh— n-no it’s fine, geto-san, i don’t really smoke…” you sheepishly turn down the weed, settling instead to watch him and his beautiful side profile, letting him explain to you about bands and guitar and chords.

“thank you for having me, geto-san,” bowing, you’re nothing like the person in the bar that day, geto thinks it’s the lack of alcohol but he doesn’t mind, simply leaning on the doorframe as he nods down at you. his smile is intoxicating and so goddamn attractive you would’ve buckled to your knees if not for the deep breaths you were taking.

“next time, pretty?” geto smiles, a little high from smoking. his eyes are lidded (they usually are anyway) and smile lopsided. his hair’s almost out of the bun.

“yeah, next time,” it sounded so breathy, you bit your lip. “i guess you’d have to find me on campus, though.”

bass guitarist!geto who mutters how you’re a little tease to himself later when he closes the door. he swears to himself he’d get your number next time, but it’s not difficult to find you the next time, hanging around the same place at the same time. it’s like you wanted him to find you — he’s not opposed to it. it’s a few weeks down the road now, and the second time is watching him curiously as he smokes, too. you take a hit and embarrass yourself completely in front of him though, and while you’re fighting for your life, you’re not opposed to the buzz it gives you.

bass guitarist!geto who’s opening the door to you the next time, surprised to see your dishevelled state and a pillow between your arms, walking almost a block like this to the next building where his dorm was. he offers to make you some tea and you shake your head, feeling a pounding headache already coming on just from explaining that your roommate was an asshole.

“you can sleep here if you want to, okay?” you sigh, thanking him immensely because even after knowing him for such a short period of time, you’re comforted by his presence.

“at least satoru’s not here,” you laugh at that, nodding tiredly before you’re settling on gojo’s bed after insistence from the other. he wouldn’t care, he’s always going back home anyway, don’t know why he wanted to share a room with me. but before you can get settled in, you hear the familiar crinkling of the paper and the click of the lighter and the smell of weed fills the room again.

again, his hand is outstretched, holding an ashtray below him as the tip of joint glows a red, calling out to you yet reminding you of the way you coughed the other night.

you crawl off his roommate’s bed, snatching the cig out of his hand in a way to prove something to yourself before taking a big puff. this time you’re better, letting the drug flow through your system, but tolerance is another thing, because it only takes another hit for you to be smiling drowsily at the other while geto is a little high, too, eyes rolling to the back of his head when your hand traces over his arms and you giggle.

“you w’nna kiss?” geto asks quietly, a little soberly, having talked late into the night while you hang off his arm and slur your words. but now you know you’re feeling a little more sensible when you can feel your heart pound and your eyes widen despite their need to close.

“i meant it, doll. you’re fuckin’ stunning,” suguru mumbles, the coldness of his rings sending a chill down your body, but also a spark to your core, “you look exactly like the day i discovered bass.” and it’s like cupid fully shoots his arrow through your heart — because have you heard the man play? you’re speechless at his point, only mustering a nod before you’re leaning in.

he hums drunkenly as a way to ask you to wait a min, manoeuvring you onto his lap before he’s taking the almost vanishing joint into his hands. two more puffs are perfect for the cigarette to be discarded and so with a gentle hand, he holds onto your nape while he tries not to get hard from having you on his lap. slowly, your lips wrap around the other end of the joint, taking in another influx of the drug before he does too.

bass guitarist!geto who pulls you towards his lips a little roughly but he doesn’t give you what you want (what he has in mind is much, much better), rather leaving his lips ajar as he exhales the smoke from his mouth into yours, your own smoke already dissipating. weirdly, this burn is more prominent, probably because all you can focus on are suguru’s dazed eyes and the way they burn through your skull. you inhale the smoke before you feel his soft lips on yours.

geto hums into your lips, coming off of them periodically to allow the smoke to disperse, but the moment is so intimate and hot that you blow away the smoke and lunge forward to wrap your arms around his neck.

“no more pullin’ away, geto-san…” you’re trailing off, words messily whispered against his lips and you burn at the chuckle he sounds out, muttering back a question of consent. you’re nodding, reeling at the speed at which he places his hands on your thighs, dragging you further up his front until you rested on his pelvis.

“kissing me like you can’t breathe and you’re still calling me by my last name? i’m wounded.” geto pulls away and defies your rule — you think he’s the only one who can do that. pouting, suguru pushes away the hair enclosing your face. “c’mon, drink, sober up a little.”

“...i like it like this,” you murmur, ashamed as to how readily you leaned into his touch. his stare is piercing though, not budging until you’re gulping down half the cup.

“throats turn dry when we smoke, princess. we can do it more when you’re more used to it, alright?” geto explains, patting your thigh and ignoring the tensing of them around his own. he’s trying so hard to act nonchalant, but he can’t get the image of you parting your lips for the smoke out of his head. the way your eyes flutter close, how you wanted more of him.

“alright… suguru,” you sigh out the name and geto wishes he could hear it somewhere else, “but can we—” the high is getting to you, making your hormones go into a frenzy and you’re grinding on his lap. geto hisses at the feeling, of your cunt brushing against his bulge. your hips are inexperienced, but you’re going by feel, drawing little circles and moving back and forth; whatever that brings you pleasure.

“baby— f-fuck…” geto swears when you pair it with the lips tha kiss down his cheek and jaw and neck, hands on your hips guiding you as you try to chase your high. but a whine from you draws geto out of his daze and he almost cums hearing your needy voice, begging him for something, anything.

“’m tired, suguru,”

he knows, grinding is a tiring thing, so rather he opts for you to lie on him with your back to his chest. by now, the room’s filled with the smell of weed and arousal, asking once again if he could take off your pyjama shorts. geto smiles at the lack of underwear but he says nothing, eyes latched onto the strings of juices that connect your pussy to the shorts.

“my baby ready to be touched?” he feels you nod, loving the way your stomach contracts and expands at the hand that travels over your clothed tits. there, he squeezes them, rubbing fingers over the hardened nub but soon creeps towards your centre. his hand and fingers are so much larger than yours, covering your whole core easily when he cups it and the contact is enough to make you mewl.

“hurry,” your hips hump the air.

“patience, darling,” geto’s gravelly voice cuts through to your ear before he finally draws languid circles upon your clit, rubbing and pressing on your bundle of nerves. his whole body burns from seeing you react so cutely, all cause your eyes couldn’t leave his on that stage. now your eyes were rolling up and over, little moans leaving your lips just from his hands.

bass guitarist!geto who seems to know all your pleasure points in one night, kissing the spot under your ear, to talking you through your orgasm. you were enamoured by the guitarist that you’d let him do anything to you, obsessed with the way he never missed questions of “is this okay?” and “tell me to stop”. geto is just as besotted by you, the arch of your back, the call of his name. god, he was going to write so many songs about you.

“think you can handle a finger, baby?” suguru whispers, caressing your twitching thighs from your first orgasm. with a shaky “yes”, geto plays with your hole, smearing your juices around your sex and getting it all on your thighs. the bashful suguruuu! has him laughing, taking your lips into another kiss as an apology.

“sorry, sweetheart. love teasin’ ya,” muffled words are said, “goin’ in.”

your jaw drops even more when geto first inserts a finger, so much wider and longer that a long moan escapes you. the stretch is so good, everything you’ve ever imagined after watching his fingers travel over the bass strings, and you’re already asking for a second finger. when he does oblige, your hands fly to grab at his wrist.

“feel good?” he chuckles at your lack of an answer, rather responding by clenching around his fingers and leaning back more into his hold. geto sets a pace, thrusting his fingers in and out of you. he thinks it’s enough of staring at you and almost gets whiplash when his head turns to his hand — from the way he disappears into your dripping cunt, he thinks he’ll cum untouched, although your desperate hips also would play a part.

“feel s’good, suguru— shit…” geto groans lowly into your ear when he feels your hand replicating the circles he’s made on your clit, juices starting to collect in his palm from how wet you were.

“you keep clenchin’ around me, baby, you w’nna cum?”

your body is more vocal than your voice, twisting and thrashing from how his fingers already feel so good. the haze and the smell of geto suguru and the weed in your system is all overloading on you at the moment, but in between you’re able to nod, fingers rubbing at your clit while geto’s speed picks up a little.

your legs naturally spread, each slap of his palm against your pussy paired with the lewd noises only making the whole thing better. it’s not long before you feel that familiar feeling, using your right hand to direct him to you once more and it’s here you see the man you saw on stage before: focused, flushed, small smirk on his face. “gonna cum.”

“yeah? are you?” geto asks against your lips, still tasting the faint aroma of the joint. your eyes are so heavy and your limbs feel like lead; it’s a wonder how both your hands are moving on your soaking wet pussy.

“yeah, sugu, s’sensitive—!” geto coos softly at your whimpers before capturing your lips, swiping his tongue over your bottom lip and your orgasm comes crashing down on you. suguru effectively swallows your moans, groaning on his own end when he can feel your cum running down his hand. slowly, he lets you ride through your orgasm, pressing pecks on your skin and shoulders.

“attagirl. so much cum, hm?” your chest is heaving, whining when he removes his fingers and there’s a cute little squelch from the juices, gasping softly as geto separates his fingers and there’s strings connecting his middle to ring finger. “dirty girl.”

you scoff softly with a smile, eyes following how his fingers make his way into his mouth. the other only hums before carrying you bridal style to the shower with a sweet smile on his face. geto suguru was certain he’d worship you.

“gotta taste that cute little pussy next time.”

[wlntrsldler]

poisoned mercury | lifestyles of the rich & famous

i. lifestyles of the rich and famous by good charlotte (introduction)

a/n: introductory chapter! introducing the dynamics of the band, luke's relationship with his mom, and teenage boy antics. pre-reader and pre-chb. things will pick up quickly after this, i promise! bear with me as i set the scene :)

series masterlist | previous | next

“why the fuck am i seeing tabloids on top of tabloids with my kid’s plastered face on the front page of all of them?” 

luke winced at the sound of his mom’s voice echoing through the empty event space. chris covered the bottom half of his face with his shirt, trying to hold in his laughter. may castellan was in her usual pantsuit, high heels clacking against the floor, as she waved around trashy magazines. she was furious. 

“ignoring the fact that you are not 21 years old and cannot legally drink, what were you thinking, luke?” travis dropped his drumsticks on the ground, motioning for chris and connor to follow him backstage. they’d seen luke get chewed out by his mom more often since they started their world tour. as the three boys walked toward the side of the stage, may turned to them. “none of you are off the hook either. you may not have been on the front page, but care to listen to what they said about you in one of their glorious articles?” 

“i would actually prefer not to, mama castellan,” chris mumbled, suddenly feeling caught. all traces of humor instantly drained from his face. luke couldn’t help but scoff, the boys always gave him shit for getting yelled at by his mom, so he was glad that this time around they were all on the sinking ship. 

she dramatically cleared her throat, opening up one of the magazines. luke grimaced at the sight of him on the front page. he was sitting on the curb, his sunglasses askew, with a girl awkwardly patting his back. he doesn’t even remember this. may shot daggers at chris, who was cowering behind his mic stand, “bassist of poisoned mercury, chris rodriguez, was photographed away from the band when he was caught outside smoking something that wasn’t a cigarette, if you catch our drift. hopefully, his habits don’t catch up to him anytime soon.” 

she stared at the stolls next, “drummer and lead guitarist of the rising band, travis and connor stoll, didn’t miss out on the fun. they walked out of the club with two models, who looked like twins, along with a bottle of dom perignon before heading into their suv.”

“and my darling child,” her words were sweet but her tone was anything but. luke chewed on the peeling skin of his bottom lip, “superstar, teen heartthrob, poisoned mercury lead singer, luke castellan, had a great night as seen in these pictures. the resident bad boy had one too many, it seems, as he walked out of the club stumbling with a mysterious blonde under his arm. castellan couldn’t make it into the car and had to sit on the curb to puke his guts out. let’s hope his actions didn’t ruin his chance at a budding romance.” 

may closed the magazine, arms on her hips. she waited patiently for one of the boys to speak up. 

“in our defense, this was in canada,” luke tried to reason, scrunching his face up. “legal drinking age is 18.” 

that was the wrong response, luke realized, when his mom’s eyes lit up in anger. she let out a breath, “you were in toronto where the drinking age is 19, which you weren’t until yesterday.” 

“i did not know that the drinking age in canada varied by region. i always learn something new whenever i talk to you, mama castellan,” travis said, trying to lighten the mood. connor shot him a look, motioning for him to quit talking. may castellan was clearly not in the mood for jokes. 

“i am tired of you guys acting reckless,” she roared, dropping the magazines. they fell with a heavy thud. she rubbed her temples with the pads of her fingers, “your parents trusted me to take care of you guys while you chased your dreams and this is what you’re doing under my watch?!” 

seeing his mom at her wit's end made luke feel sick. 

“mom,” luke hopped off the stage, ignoring the sound of the magazines ripping under his feet as he landed on top of them, “we’re sorry. i’m sorry.” 

“sorry’s not gonna cut it anymore, luke,” may said, shaking her head. “after this tour, you guys are taking a break. no touring, no public appearances.” 

“what?” connor exclaimed, joining luke off the stage. the other boys followed, looks of bewilderment evident on their faces. “w-we can’t take a break now!” 

“yeah, c’mon, mama c!” chris added, shaking his head, “we’re just getting really big. if we quit now, we’ll lose this momentum.”

“you’re not quitting. it’s just a tiny break– three months,” she cut them off, raising a hand in a stop. “we’ll release a statement to the press saying you guys will be taking some time off to work on your sophomore album so people have something to look forward to when you return.” 

“okay, so that’s the cover story,” luke ran a hand through his curls. he knew that there was no winning against his mom when she made up her mind. he looked at her and spoke before the rest of the band continued their protests, “but what are we actually gonna be doing?” 

“you’re going to spend your summer in montauk, just like old times,” his mom explained, voice still stern. “you’re going to camp half blood.”

-

“what the fuck is a camp half blood?” chris asked, plopping down on the couch they had inside their dressing room. rehearsal was cut short following the news delivered by luke’s mom. 

“it’s a music camp,” luke explained, fidgeting with random things sprawled across his desk, trying to find the pack of cigarettes he hid. he really needed to clean up. “my dad used to take me there over the summer when i was younger.”

the topic of luke’s dad was a sore subject for him. his dad left him and his mom when he was 7 for some young waitress from their hometown diner. one second, he was signing up for little league with his dad as the coach; the next, he was sitting in the hallway listening to his mom cry after his dad packed a bag and left town with wendy the waitress in the passenger seat. luke hasn’t heard from him since then. last he checked, his dad was lounging beachside in santa monica with his third wife who was definitely too young for him. as far as he’s concerned, his dad was dead to him. 

but he couldn’t deny that his time at camp half blood was the place of origin of some of his best childhood memories. he got his first taste of what it was like to be on stage at camp half blood; the adrenaline coursing through his veins, the pounding of his heart at the applause, the wild images in his head about what it would be like to be known for his music-- it all started at camp half blood. he was his happiest at camp, at least before his dad ruined it for him. 

“is it fun?” travis asked, twirling a fresh pair of drumsticks between his fingers. 

“used to be, yeah,” luke chuckled, hoisting himself up to sit on the desk. “haven’t been there since i was seven.” 

“dude, i do not want to hang out with a bunch of little kids all summer,” chris groaned, letting his head fall back against the wall. 

“relax, rodriguez,” luke lit a cigarette, inhaling the smoke before continuing. “there’s two sides to the camp. we’ll be with the older kids.” 

“oh shit, is camp half blood mr. d’s music camp?” connor asked. the name of the camp was starting to sound familiar to him.

luke took another drag, nodding, “that’s the one.” 

“dude, i fucking love mr. d. he always has the wildest stories,” travis laughed, “he’s so mellow and chill now, i wouldn’t’ve ever guessed he used to be like that.” 

“it was the 90’s,” chris shrugged, “pretty sure everyone was like that at one point.” 

“paid off for him though,” connor replied, opening a bag of doritos. he offered a chip to his brother, who in return, snatched the bag for himself. connor rolled his eyes, reaching over to grab another one. he was used to this. “i mean being a ceo of a multi-million dollar recording company isn’t too shabby.” 

luke hummed along, mindlessly, letting the chatter of his bandmates fill the air. the three boys fell into a conversation about the last time they saw mr. d at the recording studio when they were finishing up the vocals for their debut album, but luke’s mind was far away from the topic at hand. he couldn’t shake the feeling of disappointment from his body. he knew the way his mom looked at him would haunt him for the next few nights.

it wasn’t like he was actively trying to disappoint her– really, he wasn’t, but he just gets so caught up in the noise of fame that he forgets how to act under the pressure. there was something about his mom breaking down in front of him because of him that tore him apart. he felt guilty. his mom didn’t ask for this life, she didn’t even want it. she was content being a suburban mom in westport, connecticut, but she gave up her comfy life to let luke live out his dreams of being a musician. 

he was lucky, he knew that. not every mom would be on board with her kid dropping out of traditional high school to perform rowdy songs about teenage angst, but may castellan was okay with it because she loved luke so much and wanted him to be happy. so when poisoned mercury got a record deal with olympus records, she didn’t hesitate to drop everything and go on the road with four unruly teenagers, promising their parents that she’d take care of their sons. 

sometimes, he thinks about what his mom sees when she looks at him. he wonders if she still recognized him, the him before all the fame got to his head. 

he was may castellan’s little boy. the boy who used to beg his mom for chocolate chip cookies after a bad day at school, who used to knock on her door in the middle of the night wondering why he wasn’t enough for his dad to stay, and who cried when she got him his first guitar on his tenth birthday. for most of his life, it’s always just been him and his mom. 

now, at 19, luke didn’t know who he was anymore. he was just going with the flow, doing whatever, doing whoever, his fame and his status threw his way. he did what any teenage boy would do in his position– he drank, he smoked, he had fun, maybe too much fun, sometimes. it’s a rockstar’s life, his wildest dreams come to life, but it was a distraction, mostly. luke wasn’t brave enough to face the music just yet, so he dove into this fantasy head-first, too afraid to look back.

except sometimes, he fucks up really badly, like in toronto, and he’s forced to deal with the consequences of his actions. one time, his mom cut the band off from playing video games on the tour bus for a month after a heated argument between the four of them caused them to cancel a show. the argument was stupid. luke was adamant that scorpions did not have the same mental capacity for understanding pain that humans do and that did not bode well with travis. rehearsal ended in a brawl because travis kept doing impromptu drum solos to drown out luke’s voice. his mom was pissed that hundreds of fans were disappointed over the canceled show and it was all because they couldn’t agree over a damn scorpion. 

another time, she banned them from driving the golf carts around the venue when they crashed it into a very expensive sound system in portland. they ended up owing upwards of $4,000 for the damages and were banned from playing at the event space ever again. the four of them laughed about it when the chaos of it all subsided, and they were fine not playing at the house of hades again, but they did miss the snack bar they set up for visiting talents. chris said he still dreamt about the pomegranate juice ‘til this day. 

luke can look back at the punishments over the years fondly now. in the grand scheme of things, none of it really mattered. but going to camp half blood? this was a different type of punishment. 

luke didn’t want to go to camp half blood. the last memory he had of camp was not a welcomed one. plus, after what he experienced on tour, he could think of a million other ways to spend his summer months, and living at a camp with spotty cell service and designated arts and crafts time was nowhere near the top of the list. 

“yo, castellan,” chris’ voice snapped luke out of his thoughts. “you comin?”

luke put out his cigarette against the wood of his desk, “huh?”

“we’re grabbing food, do you wanna go with us?”

luke hopped off the desk, slipping on his black, puffer jacket, “yeah, i’m right behind you.” 

as luke was walking out of the dressing room, adjusting his t-shirt, he saw his mom talking to teddy, their publicist. they were engaged in a serious conversation, no doubt talking about the press release regarding their second album and their hiatus. luke stood in front of the door for a brief moment, a stutter in his steps, not knowing if he should interrupt.

 luke pursed his lips, deciding to jog over to his mom. 

“i think we should post it on the band accounts first before the boys announce it individually. it make–” may furrowed her eyebrows, noticing luke coming closer to her. she turned her body to face him. she looked much calmer now than she did during rehearsals, “hey, what’s wrong?” 

luke shook his head, “nothin’, mom. i just–uh, just wanted to say sorry again.”

“let’s talk later, may,” teddy gave the two of them a small smile before walking away. 

“i’m not changing my mind about camp half blood,” she frowned. “sorry, luke but i can’t have you guys running around all sum–”

“no, no, i know, mom. i-i didn’t come here to try to convince you,” luke looked down at his feet, suddenly feeling like a little boy again. “i just– uh, shit. okay, i’m sorry for toronto. it was a bad time and it’s not fair that you have to deal with the fall out of our shit. and uh– thank you for sticking by us even though we drive you kinda crazy.” 

may laughed, smiling at her son, “you’re my kid. you know i’ll always be there to set you straight.” 

“thanks, mom,” luke chuckled, backing away to catch up with his bandmates. may waved goodbye, making her way to teddy’s makeshift office. before luke left the tunnel, he turned around, “wait mom! last thing!” 

she raised her eyebrows, “what?” 

luke raised his hand in a thumbs-up motion, grinning from ear to ear, “love you!” 

“i love you too, kiddo,” may replied, a hand over her heart. “now scram, i gotta clean up your mess.” 

[perotovar]

bloody kisses — part two: i don't wanna be me

pairing: shane morrissey/tim rockford rating: E (18+) mdni word count: 6.6k content: vaguely takes place in the 00s, age gap (shane is 23, tim is 40), internalized homophobia, descriptions of a crime scene/injury (bullet wound and head trauma)(not shane or tim), heavy petting, oral (male receiving), protected p in a, discussions of dom/sub and top/bottom, tiny bit of misogyny (shane is ignorant af and it's like 2002 lol), first time bottoming, shane's internal battles, tim being a really fucking good partner, f e e l i n g s, seriously this is sappy y'all, if i missed anything lmk! dividers: @saradika-graphics beta: @chronically-ghosted (seriously i can't explain how much taylor has helped with this story, go give her some love!)

series summary: shane has been in denial about himself for a while. newly single and with the help of one of his favorite singers, he opens his eyes to a new venture he could possibly take: the cop he sees on a semi-regular basis, detective tim rockford.

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Shane locked himself in his bedroom for three days after the disaster at Tim’s apartment. He’s never felt so stupid in his life. How could he just… kiss him like that? 

Why did he do that?

He thought about that moment constantly, for hours at a time. Tim’s lips, for how briefly they’d touched his own, felt so… correct. They were soft, a little chapped, but warm. It was like things clicked into place for him. He doesn’t remember any kisses with Raven ever feeling like that. Or any girl he’d been with, for that matter. 

He hated himself for how good it felt. Especially because Tim ended it before it ever really began.

Shane wasn’t sure if there was anyone else he could go to about any of this. Legally, he still lived with his mom and her husband in their downtown apartment, but they never saw each other. He basically had his own area of the apartment to himself. His mom and her husband made enough that they didn’t really notice or care what Shane did with his life. He didn’t have any goals, and he guessed that’s why he did petty crimes like he did. He was just so fucking bored.

And now he was dealing with… this. 

He stared at Tim’s business card, his thumb rubbing over the older man’s name. He was curled up on his bed, holding one of his pillows close. He looked at the clock on his bedside table. The bright green text read 2:18am. He sighed to himself and rolled over onto his back.

He wasn’t going to get any sleep tonight.

Nobody noticed a change in Tim at work. If they did, they were professional enough not to bring it up. He felt fucking awful for how things went down with Shane. He wanted to reciprocate so badly, but Shane was vulnerable and Tim didn’t want to take advantage of him like that.

“Boss, I got those files you needed.”

Tim looked up from his desk, pen still in hand while he filled out the paperwork for a robbery he’d taken care of the day before. He’d thought about Shane and his magazine the entire time. “Thank you,” he grunted, pointing at an empty spot on his desk. “Can just set it there, please.”

The agent set it down and took off, getting back to work.

Tim looked back down at the file he was working on and sighed, losing his focus. He looked over at the phone on his desk and frowned. He didn’t have Shane’s number so he couldn’t call him. He wanted to tell Shane that what happened wasn’t wrong, or even unwanted.

The sound of heavy footsteps brought him out of his thoughts. Matthews, his partner, slammed Tim’s office door open.

“There’s been a shooting!”

Tim furrowed his brows, pushing his thoughts of Shane away for now, and focusing on the task at hand. “Where? Do we know anything else?” He asked, opening the drawer in his desk to put his gun holster on over his shoulders.

“Yeah, it was at a liquor store downtown. We have an idea of who the victim is based on descriptions from the employee working at the time, but not of the shooter,” Matthews answered, handing Tim’s trenchcoat to him. 

The two detectives made their way to Tim’s car and sped off to the crime scene.

“His name is Howard Xavier, and he’s twenty-eight,” Watson, the cop who was in the area, explained. “He’s on his way to the hospital now, but he looks to be in decent condition.”

Tim nodded, eyes looking over the crime scene. Flashes of photos being taken filled the peripheries of his vision. There were bottles of wine and hard liquor crashed everywhere. “Looks like Xavier tried to run from the shooter,” he mumbled, crouching down to look at the dirty boot prints on the linoleum floor.

“Do you think they knew each other?” Matthews asked.

Tim sighed, looking up at his partner before standing again. “Who’s to say?” He shrugged. “Maybe. Do we have any information on any relatives or associates?”

“No family, but we’ve found a couple of friends on file,” Matthews replied. “I think we’ve got them back at the station.”

Tim nodded. “Let’s head back and see what we can find.”

“Yes, sir.”

Tim couldn’t believe his fucking eyes. 

Known Associates: Tracy Wynanski and Shane Morrissey.

This had to have been the coincidence to end all coincidences or Tim had an insane amount of luck. There was a phone number for Tracy, but no address. He stepped out of his office and approached his secretary, an older woman by the name of Dolores.

“Can you get me Shane Morrissey’s file, please?” He asked, voice a little more gruff than he’d intended.

“Of course, sweetie, give me one moment,” Dolores smiled, rolling her chair to the file cabinets. 

Shane’s file in hand, he sat back at his desk and started looking through the files for Howard Xavier again. A bullet wound to the thigh, and blunt force trauma to the head.

He figured it’d be easy to get the professional parts out of the way first and called Tracy, asking if she knew anything about the shooting. She said she didn’t, since her and Howard hadn’t seen each other in a couple of months. She’d gone back home to Philadelphia after a breakup. 

“Thank you, Tracy,” he said. “Do you happen to know Shane Morrissey? He’s one of Howard’s other known associates and I’d like to ask if he knows anything.”

Tracy let out a bitter laugh and said, “Oh, I know Shane. He can kiss my ass for all I care.”

“Ms. Wynanski, please–”

“I don’t have a number for him, but I can tell you where he lives. Not saying he’ll be there, though,” she paused. “Likes to frequent this one house full of his ‘friends’ when he’s not at home moping.”

Tim felt his entire body relax, shutting his eyes as he took a deep breath. “That will be very helpful. Thank you, Ms. Wynanski. Do you have the address for the other house?”

“Yeah. I wouldn’t go in there like you’re looking for him, though. They’ll all run off.”

“I can handle it. Thank you, Ms Wynanski.”

After confirming that the address Tracy had matched the one they had on file, and wrote down the other address, he called Matthews, who decided to check on Xavier at the hospital.

“He’s stable. He’ll probably stay here for a couple of days,” his partner said through the phone.

“Alright. I’ve got a lead on one of his associates. It’s fucking Morrissey, John,” Tim chuckled.

“You’re shitting me. Employee at the liquor store said Xavier looked like he walked out of the Satanic Temple so I guess I’m not too surprised.”

Tim rolled his eyes and snorted, making one last note on Howard’s file. “I’m gonna head out and look for him. Could you go to one of these addresses for me?”

“Sure thing, Tim. Don’t get trapped in some ritual sacrifice.”

“Fuck off,” Tim laughed.

Tim decided to go to the second house full of Shane’s “friends”. He figured it was more likely that he was there, and he was right. It looked like it was a gathering of about ten or fifteen other kids around Shane’s age, all dressed in similar clothing.

The house was filled with smoke and had music playing, so he decided it was better if he stayed in his car until Shane came outside. He didn’t want to embarrass the kid.

It didn’t take too long, Shane stumbling out of the house and laughing loudly. Tim turned the key, the engine for his Caprice coming to life. Shane startled and looked over, eyes locking with Tim’s behind the wheel.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” Shane barked, stomping over to the passenger window and glaring at the older man.

“I need your help,” Tim said softly.

Shane rolled his eyes and crossed his arms over his chest. “Did you fucking stalk me here? You can’t be here– They can’t see me with you.”

“Then get in. They won’t know.” Tim looked up at him, eyes softening when he saw the clear hurt on Shane’s face. He wasn’t very angry by the looks of it. Just upset.

Shane scoffed, looked back at the house, and raised his arms in defeat. “Fine,” he grumbled, opening the passenger side door and sitting down.

“Seatbelt.”

“Eat me, old man,” Shane rolled his eyes. He lifted a leg and rested his chunky boot on the car’s dashboard. 

Tim sighed heavily and didn’t argue. He’ll just clean his car later. “You wanna talk at the station or at my apartment?”

Shane bit his lip, picking at a rip in his jeans and making it worse. “I don’t wanna go to the station.”

“Figured as much,” Tim exhaled, looking behind the car for any oncoming traffic and pulling out of the neighborhood towards his apartment.

Shane stared at Tim’s arms underneath the tight white dress shirt, the fabric pulling at the thick muscle. He wondered what Tim looked like on top of him, those strong arms pinning him to a mattress and–

“You know a Howard Xavier, right?” Tim asked, eyes squinting at the file in his hands. 

The two of them were seated at the table in Tim’s dining room, the surface in front of them covered in documents and files. 

“Yeah, that’s X,” Shane mumbled, picking at his nails so he could hide the pink in his cheeks.

Tim raised a brow but didn’t comment, nodding. “Do you know if he had any enemies, Shane?” He asked, digging his glasses out of his front pocket and putting them on. “That’s better,” he said to himself, the text on the files clearing up.

Shane blinked a couple times, the sight of Tim wearing glasses doing more for him than he thought possible. His breathing picked up a little, heart pounding in his chest when Tim made eye contact with him, waiting for Shane to answer. “U-um, I don’t think so? X was always pretty chill,” he mumbled.

Tim nodded and took notes on a sticky pad. Tim’s phone started ringing, making the older man get up and answer it. “Rockford,” he grunted into the receiver.

Shane stayed seated and kept to himself, listening to the one sided conversation.

“You’re shitting me. He did? Thanks, John. Yeah. You too. Have a good night.”

Tim exhaled and hung up the phone, clicking his pen. “Good news,” he smiled, taking his seat at the table across from Shane. “Xavier woke up and described the shooter. My partner found him.”

Shane nodded, tapping his fingers against the surface of the table. “‘S good,” he mumbled.

Tim watched Shane’s face closely, eyes trailing over the piercings and the messy hair. “I’m sorry I took you away from your party,” he said softly.

“‘S okay. Don’t like those guys very much,” Shane shrugged. Now that he was here, he was having a hard time not curling in on himself again. He couldn’t even look Tim in the eye without thinking about what his lips felt and tasted like.

Tim furrowed his brows. “Why do you hang out with them, then?” He leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms over his chest. He didn’t want to pry, but it was sort of his job to find information. Shane wasn’t a job, though. He was much more than that.

Shane sighed and angrily looked at Tim for a second before looking away again. “Why do you care?”

Tim bit his lip, fiddling with his tie. “You really wanna know, kid?”

“Wouldn’t have asked if I didn’t,” he rolled his eyes.

“Because I see a lot of myself in you, Shane,” Tim admitted gently, crossing one leg over the other.

Shane furrowed his brows and looked at Tim incredulously.

“It’s true. Would you believe me if I said I got arrested? Was about your age, too.” Tim chuckled as he remembered what caused his arrest.

A small smile grew on Shane’s face. “What’d you do?”

“Public Indecency.”

Shane’s eyes grew three times in size. “Did you get caught having sex? Were you streaking?” He giggled, the tips of his ears turning red.

“Uh, well,” Tim chuckled. “I was in my car at the time and having sex.”

Shane laughed, face as red as a tomato. His thoughts flooded with images of what Tim having sex looked like. What sort of faces did he make? What kind of sounds did he make? Was he more dominant or submissive?

“Were you going down on her or…?”

“Him,” Tim answered easily. “And no, we were uh… I was found on top of him.”

Shane froze, eyes wide. He looked away, his heart pounding in his chest. He looked back at Tim briefly before settling his eyes on Tim’s tie. “You’re…?” He asked shakily. 

“Yeah, kid,” Tim chuckled. Shane looked terrified and it broke Tim’s heart. “I said I was here for you if you needed me. I still am.”

Shane squeezed his eyes shut and let out a heavy, shaky breath. He rubbed his sweaty palms against his jeans and looked at Tim with wet, glossy eyes. “I don’t– I don’t understand,” he shook his head in disbelief. “You don’t seem–”

“Not every gay person is really flamboyant, Shane.”

Shane blushed in embarrassment. “Why did you turn away from me, then? Why didn’t you kiss me back?” He frowned, voice shaky and hurt.

Tim’s eyes rounded, his whole face becoming softer. “I wanted to,” he admitted, looking down at Shane’s ring-clad hands. “But it wasn’t fair to you. I didn’t… I didn’t want to take advantage of you like that.”

“Take advantage–! I kissed you!” Shane roared.

“You were vulnerable and confused. And,” Tim gulped. “And I’m a lot older than you, it’s… It’s not appropriate.” He shook his head, closing his eyes briefly at how much it hurt to say out loud.

“Tim,” Shane whimpered, biting his lip. He felt a thick lump in his throat. He couldn’t believe he was having this conversation right now. He couldn’t believe the words coming out of his mouth. It felt like he was having an out of body experience. “I don’t care about that, I’m– I’m more worried about you being a cop than being older than me. I’m an adult,” he scoffed, his bottom lip trembling.

Tim couldn’t hold in the chuckle that bubbled out of him. “I know you are. I just don’t– I don’t know how this could continue–”

“Please, shut up,” Shane begged, getting out of his chair and making his way over to Tim. He looked down at the older man, face burning, and slowly crawled into Tim’s lap, wrapping his arms around Tim’s neck. “I don’t wanna talk anymore,” he whispered. “I don’t wanna think anymore. Please.”

Tim’s hands instinctively found their place on Shane’s hips. His eyes moved from Shane’s to the younger man’s lips, then back up. “Are you sure?” He asked softly, rubbing his thumbs into Shane’s hip bones.

“No,” Shane mumbled. “Well, yes, but… No.”

Tim raised a brow and smirked. “How about we take things slow.”

Shane nodded, biting his lip. “Okay.”

Tim smiled and softly connected their lips, caressing Shane’s head, thumb rubbing at his jaw. Shane whimpered quietly as he tentatively kissed back. His lips trembled against Tim’s, soft huffs of air expelling out from between them. He’d kissed before but this was so… different. The feeling of Tim’s facial hair against his lips was weird. Good, but weird. 

Shane experimentally ran his tongue along Tim’s bottom lip. Tim took the hint and softly caressed Shane’s tongue with his own, making the younger man gasp into his mouth. Tim squeezed Shane’s narrow hips, trying to ground him, and sighed into the kiss. It built a little over time, but eventually, they found a rhythm. The soft clinking of metal from Shane’s earrings filled the otherwise silent apartment. They learned each other over the course of their kissing. Tim learned that Shane liked to nibble and bite, and Shane learned that Tim liked to encompass him entirely, like he could devour Shane’s mouth if given the chance.

When Tim pulled away for some much needed air, Shane whined in protest, his face leaning toward Tim’s to keep going. “Slow your roll, kid,” Tim chuckled, pressing his forehead to Shane’s and panting quietly. Shane blushed, and chewed his swollen bottom lip while he waited. “C’mere,” Tim grunted, tugging Shane’s leather duster off his shoulders. Shane went along with it, pulling his arms free before the sound of squeaky leather fell into a heap on the floor. 

Large hands ran over Shane’s hips and waist, but never ventured lower. Shane shivered when Tim’s blunt nails lightly scratched at the exposed skin of his lower back as his t-shirt rode up. Shane’s cock twitched in interest, making him blush high on his cheeks.

“‘s okay, sweetheart,” Tim hummed. He rolled his hips a little, his own half-hard cock rubbing against Shane’s.

Shane’s eyes grew twice their size at the feeling and looked down at the bulge in Tim’s slacks. He squeezed his eyes shut and turned his face away. His imagination was a lot easier to handle than the real thing pressing into his inner thigh. 

Tim furrowed his brows in concern and rubbed Shane’s skin underneath his t-shirt comfortingly. “What are you thinking about?” He asked softly.

Shane inhaled heavily, and slowly let out a deep breath before turning his head back toward Tim. He opened his eyes, but didn’t make contact. “Just… weird. Feeling your…”

Tim hummed in acknowledgement. “Do you want to stop?”

Shane shook his head, eyes still burning holes into Tim’s slowly rising and falling tummy. 

“Need to hear you say it, sweetheart.”

“N-no, I don’t want to stop,” Shane whispered.

“Do you want to lie down? There’s no expectation for anything,” Tim said, sitting up a little more in the dining room chair. 

The stretch in Shane’s thighs suddenly overtook any doubts he had, making him shakily get up from Tim’s lap. He was used to having someone sit on his lap like that and being in that position made his stomach hurt.

Tim laced his fingers through Shane’s and gently guided him to his bedroom. He kept the lights low and rubbed his thumb over Shane’s knuckles. “You okay?”

Shane stared at Tim’s bed and swallowed a lump in his throat. “Y-yeah,” he croaked.

Tim chewed on his lip in thought and let go of Shane’s smaller hand. He gave Shane some space as he took off his glasses and removed the tie he was wearing. He toed off his dress shoes and put them in his closet. When he turned around after unbuttoning his dress shirt, Shane was sitting on his bed, hands curled up into fists on his ripped jean-covered thighs.

Tim sighed softly and sat next to him on the bed. “What’s goin’ through that pretty head of yours?” He asked, tugging on pieces of Shane’s hair that were sticking straight out.

Shane shut his eyes and took another deep breath. “I’m just… I’m having a hard time being… like, the female part.” He curled in on himself, his shoulders hiding his ears.

Tim blinked a couple times. “Sweetheart, we’re both men.”

“I-I know that! I just,” he swallowed a lump in his throat. “Usually, I’m in your position. Taking charge.”

“I see,” Tim sighed, getting more comfortable and turning toward him. Shane did the same, but didn’t make eye contact with him. “Can you look at me, sweetheart?”

Shane blushed, those big brown eyes of his lifting up to meet Tim’s. 

“Alright, firstly, who told you there were ‘male’ and ‘female’ roles?” Tim raised a brow.

“W-well, uh–”

“It’s alright, I already know who. Lesson number one,” Tim smiled reassuringly. “Just because you’re sitting on my lap, letting me ‘take charge’, doesn’t mean you’re weak, honey.”

Shane gulped and nodded, taking all of this in. Tim felt like a professor. Probably the first one Shane would ever listen to.

“And women aren’t weak, so get that out of your head, too.”

Shane let out a heavy breath. This was a lot to take in.

“Did you feel good?” Tim asked, picking up one of Shane’s hands and rubbing his thumb over the scabbed knuckles. When Shane nodded jerkily, Tim grinned, his chest feeling warm at the admission. “That’s all that matters. Think of it this way,” he paused. Shane hung onto every word. “Everything we do? It’s with your say-so. You’re driving the car here.”

Shane blinked as he thought about it. He could work with that. “Oh,” he said quietly.

“You want me to make you feel good again?” Tim smiled, eyes crinkling in the corners. Shane’s heart thundered at the sight.

“Y-yes.”

“Go ahead and lay back for me, alright?”

Shane nodded and got comfy, head cradled by Tim’s fluffy pillows. His entire body was buzzing and tense. He kept his eyes on Tim’s popcorn ceiling, the sounds of Tim’s belt jingling filling the room. When the bed dipped with Tim’s weight, Shane’s heart stuttered a little. One of Tim’s big hands cupped his cheek and gently turned his face so he could look at Tim again. Shane wasn’t expecting the softness in Tim’s features, or the heat in his eyes.

Tim rubbed Shane’s cheek with his thumb. “We don’t have to go far tonight. There’s no rush.”

Shane nodded, letting out a shaky breath. “Okay.”

This time, when their lips connected, Shane eased into it a lot sooner, kissing the older man with renewed fervor. He sighed into it, the warmth radiating off of Tim being an endless source of comfort. He gripped onto Tim’s opened dress shirt and tugged it down his shoulders. Tim released Shane’s lips briefly while he shrugged the shirt off and tossed it on the floor. Shane moaned weakly when Tim surged forward and sucked his bottom lip between his own.

Shane’s head was fuzzy, all the blood there rushing down between his legs. He gasped when Tim rolled him over and hovered over him, pressing his hips between Shane’s thighs. Tim took his time with him, kissing him languidly while he unbuckled Shane’s jeans.

“Can I touch you?” Tim breathed between kisses.

Shane nodded quickly, holding the sides of Tim’s head and tangling his fingers in the short, thick locks of Tim’s hair. Tim smiled against the younger man’s lips and pulled Shane’s baggy, ripped jeans off. Shane toed off his own socks before wrapping his legs around Tim’s thick waist. Tim was so much larger than Shane was and it made his head spin.

Tim’s hands played with the bottom of Shane’s t-shirt and slowly lifted it up, bunching under his armpits. He pulled away to look at Shane’s torso and grinned when he saw the small tattoos there. Both hands holding Shane’s sides, he gently rubbed at the younger man’s nipples, making Shane gasp. Goosebumps and flushed skin covered his entire body in seconds, making Shane lightly smack Tim’s shoulder. Tim laughed lightly and softly kissed his way down Shane’s torso until he was eye level with the tent in the younger man’s boxers.

Shane blushed hard, eyes wide. “W-what are you doing?”

Tim raised a brow and tilted his head slightly, tugging on the elastic of Shane’s boxers. “Said I’d make you feel good, sweetheart.”

Shane blinked. “B-but isn’t that…”

“There are no roles. But if you don’t want me to, then–”

“I do!” Shane smacked his hand over his own mouth and shut his eyes, hoping the bed would swallow him whole. 

A wolfish smirk crossed Tim’s features as he lowered his head, kissing along Shane’s pelvis. Shane whimpered at the feeling of Tim’s facial hair across his skin, his body shuddering. “Breathe, sweetheart,” Tim whispered, shutting his eyes to suck gently at Shane’s hip and leaving a mark. 

Shane forced himself to take a deep breath, shutting his eyes to center himself. When he opened his eyes, Tim quirked a brow up at him as he tugged on Shane’s boxers again. Shane nodded his consent and almost groaned at the cool air in the apartment hitting his throbbing cock. Tim hummed appreciatively and didn’t waste a second, kissing the tip, then making his way down the shaft.

Shane moaned openly gripping the sheets of the bed into tight fists. “T-Tim, what–”

“Shh…” Tim whispered, engulfing the head of Shane’s cock in his mouth. He moaned at the taste and watched Shane’s face as he slowly bobbed his head up and down. Shane’s eyes rolled back and arched his back off the bed. 

Shane felt his cheeks throb and the blood rushing in his ears, doing everything in his power to keep his hips down. When his hips bucked up on their own, he moaned weakly, looking at Tim’s face to make sure he didn’t choke him. What he found instead made his cock twitch.

This was one of Tim’s favorite things to do. Making his partner feel good with his mouth was something he always got pleasure out of and Shane was no different. In fact, this was probably one of the more rewarding times, because this was the first time a man had done this for him. He felt good knowing he got to be the first, and a little possessive side of him liked the idea even more.

Eyes shut, Tim moaned around Shane’s length, losing himself in it. He gripped Shane’s hips and rubbed the bones there to soothe him. Shane’s chest rose and fell quickly as he watched. He felt a little embarrassed to admit that this was probably the best head he’d ever received.

Tim opened his eyes, keeping an eye on any changes in Shane’s face. 

Shane felt his balls drawing up, making him moan weakly. “I-I’m gonna–” He cut himself off, gripping the sheets tighter. Tim doubled his efforts, bobbing his head a little faster. “Oh, fuck,” Shane whined, his thighs trembling on either side of Tim’s head.

Tim moved his hands up Shane’s torso and rubbed at the younger man’s nipples again, urging him on.

“W-wait, wait–” Shane gasped, smacking his hand against Tim’s shoulder as the pressure built and built. Tim watched closely and if he could, he’d grin to himself as he watched Shane’s eyes roll back. Shane’s entire body stilled and he came hard, thick ropes of cum shooting down Tim’s throat. Shane’s moans went up three octaves as he shook with pleasure, his toes curling.

Tim swallowed everything and slowly, gently, raised his head. He licked Shane clean, kissing back up his torso. Once he was hovering over Shane again, Tim smiled at the blissed out expression on his face. He chuckled lightly and kissed Shane’s cheek.

“Still with me?”

Shane shivered at the gravelly tone of Tim’s voice. It must be an octave or two lower than normal given what he’d just done. He slowly blinked his eyes open and didn’t have the energy to hold back the smile when he saw Tim’s handsome face. “Yeah, ‘m here,” he mumbled, his body feeling heavy and sated.

“Good. You should get some rest, sweetheart.” Tim’s laugh rumbled in his chest.

Shane pouted, big brown eyes glazed over, but determined. “What about you?”

“I’ll be okay. Get some rest,” Tim said, kissing Shane’s forehead. “Can I take your shirt off?” He asked, pulling the material down from where it was bunched up under his armpits.

Shane nodded, watching in awe as Tim took care of him. It was at this moment that Shane realized Tim was completely serious with him. He wouldn’t make fun of him, or use him. Shane felt tears prickling behind his eyes, but quickly blinked them away.

“Be right back, okay? Gonna get you some water,” Tim grunted quietly, crawling off the bed. Shane didn’t have the energy to argue, and just watched Tim’s broad back leave the bedroom.

When Tim returned with the glass of water, he was greeted with the sight of Shane’s sleeping form. He smiled at him, and set the water on the nightstand closest to Shane. 

He got himself undressed, making sure to be careful of his own half-hard cock. Once he was down to his boxer briefs, he crawled into bed behind Shane and held the younger man close. The day caught up with him as he laid there, eyes trailing over the messy curls and multiple piercings in Shane’s ears.

He drifted off quickly, and had a dreamless sleep.

Twitch. Twitch.

Shane groaned in his sleep.

What was that?

He slowly opened his eyes, blinking as he adjusted to the light. He tried to turn and feel what was poking against his back, but he was held firmly in place by… Were those arms?

Shane’s eyes snapped open as the memories from the night before came flooding back. His cheeks burned as he looked down and saw the strong, very male, hands holding him close to a broad chest. Tim huffed in his sleep, making Shane smile shyly. He couldn’t deny it, being held by Tim felt really good. It was so warm.

He tried rotating in Tim’s arms, silently exhaling in relief when he didn’t seem to wake the older man. He felt the twitching again and looked down between their bodies.

Oh.

Shane smiled at the sight of Tim’s morning wood through his boxer briefs. He looked back up at Tim’s sleeping face and decided against doing anything until he’d woken up. For now, he ran his fingers through the thin layer of chest hair on Tim’s skin. It seemed obvious when he thought about it, but it was so different than when he was with a woman. He didn’t feel like he had to hide with Tim. Tim wouldn’t judge him.

Tim made him feel safe. 

“Whatcha thinkin’ about, sweetheart?”

Shane startled and looked up, Tim’s soft smirk and sleepy eyes greeting him. He shook his head in lieu of an answer.

When Tim grumbled in response, it reminded Shane of a bear. 

“Do you want… You need help with that?” Shane asked timidly, pointing between their bodies. Their legs were tangled together and they were touching everywhere. The proximity and the feeling of warmth radiating from between Tim’s legs had Shane throbbing in no time.

Tim snorted and leaned forward, kissing Shane sleepily. Shane moaned into it, grinding his own cock against Tim’s. Tim pulled back and panted a little against Shane’s lips.

“We don’t have to. I’ll be okay–”

Shane cut him off by gripping Tim’s ass and squeezing. When Tim made a small noise of surprise, Shane smirked, attempting to pull Tim onto his own lap. “I want to,” he said, voice determined, but shaky. “I want… I wanna know what it feels like. I have to make sure.”

Tim blinked at him, a little shocked by the sudden change in Shane’s behavior. One of his legs was draped over Shane’s waist as he cupped the younger man’s face. Shane seemed to melt at the gesture, making Tim smirk. “Are you sure?” He asked, brows pinched in concern. He didn’t want Shane to rush into anything. 

“Yes,” Shane nodded.

There was more conviction in that one word than a lot of things Shane had ever said to him, so Tim smiled softly at him. He held onto Shane’s thighs and rolled them over so he was hovering over Shane again, and rubbed the smooth skin comfortingly. “Alright. Lube and condoms are in the top drawer,” he nodded his head toward the nightstand. 

With pink cheeks and a determined expression on his face, Shane reached over and dug out the necessary equipment. Everything really settled in his gut when he was holding everything. This was really going to happen. This wasn’t some dream he’d come up with while he was alone in his bedroom, looking at the cracks and fist-sized holes in his walls.

“C’mere,” Tim grunted, gently taking the items from him and holding Shane’s hip. “Gotta get you prepared, okay? Don’t want it to hurt for you.”

Shane nodded appreciatively and watched as Tim discarded his own underwear, kneeling on the bed between Shane’s thighs. He looked the older man over, eyes raking over the messy, gray curls and pillow creases on Tim’s cheeks. His eyes traveled down over the broad shoulders and chest, and down to the swell of Tim’s stomach. That was probably one of Shane’s favorite parts. His eyes landed on the thick cock between muscled thighs and Shane bit his lip. He had to remind himself not to pinch his arm, because this was real. 

Tim carefully got the condom secured around his cock and drizzled some lube on his fingers. “You ready?” He smiled down at Shane, chest warm at the sight of him. Shane nodded, smiling shyly up at him.

Tim curled his fingers around Shane’s cock and pumped slowly. Shane sighed and shut his eyes, lips parting. Tim couldn’t help himself and surged forward, kissing the younger man deeply. He kept his hand on him, keeping up a decent pace as he teased a finger against Shane’s hole.

Shane’s body jerked at the intrusion, making Tim soothe him gently. “Shh, it’s okay,” he whispered. “I’ll be gentle.”

Shane let out a weak noise and nodded, holding on tight to Tim’s shoulders. He spread his legs a little more and wrapped them around Tim’s waist. 

The first press of one of Tim’s thick fingers inside him already had Shane seeing stars. He panted as he looked down between his legs, trying to see what was happening. Tim cupped his face and forced him to look there instead. “Eyes on me, sweetheart,” he smiled.

Shane bit his lip and nodded, but gasped soon after as a second finger joined the first. His face twisted into an almost pained expression. Tim watched closely, eyes locked onto him. Tim pumped his fingers in a steady rhythm, searching for that sweet spot inside him. Shane was panting heavily, eyes glossed over, but staying on Tim’s face.

When Shane rolled his eyes back and he gasped, Tim knew he found it. Shane moaned, his cock twitching violently against his lower tummy. “H-hurry up, old man,” he groaned, toes curling on either side of Tim’s hips. “P-please,” he breathed.

Tim snorted, but didn’t argue, removing his fingers gently. Shane groaned at the loss and braced himself for the intrusion, eyes squeezed shut.

“Sweetheart, I need you to breathe first.” Tim leaned over him and kissed him tenderly. He watched as Shane let out one last deep breath and nodded up at him. “Atta boy,” Tim grinned.

Shane scoffed and rolled his eyes, but smiled all the same. As Tim lined himself up, Shane’s heart thundered in his chest, watching the focus on Tim’s face mellow out. He had that same facial expression whenever he was interrogating Shane back at the station, or reading through files, or taking notes. But here, with Shane, he seemed to deflate a little. He relaxed. 

The first push in knocked the wind out of Shane. He moaned, digging his nails into Tim’s broad shoulders. Tim hid his face in Shane’s neck and kissed along the younger man’s sleep-soft skin. “Doin’ so good, sweetheart,” he breathed, hips slowly pushing forward.

Shane trembled in Tim’s arms until Tim’s hips were flush against him. Time stopped as Tim settled, letting Shane adjust. Shane had to blink a few times, swallowing around a lump in his throat. All thought left Shane’s head and the only thing left was the sweet stretch of Tim’s cock inside him. Every wall he’d built up was successfully crumbling at his trembling form. 

Tim petted Shane’s sweaty hair out of his face, kissing him on every available patch of skin he could find.

“M-move,” Shane panted, eyes half lidded and glazed over. “Please.”

So Tim did.

He built up a slow, steady rhythm. Before either of them knew it, their bodies rocked together in perfect harmony. Tim hugged Shane closer, his hips being the driving force while his arms kept Shane grounded.

The sounds leaving Shane’s mouth were so unfamiliar to his own ears, he couldn’t even tell where he was for a moment. The only thing he could feel or think about was the stretch of Tim’s cock, Tim’s heavy breathing against his neck, and Tim’s big hands holding his hips. It was all Tim, Tim, Tim.

He didn’t even feel the tear slowly falling down the side of his face until Tim gently wiped it away. He nearly sobbed when Tim kissed him, chest hitching with every powerful thrust. 

Tim grunted every time Shane clenched around him. He was so tight, which he expected, but he was having a hard time keeping a steady rhythm. He was still tired and his body was trying to catch up. He watched the younger man’s face twist in pleasure and sped up a little, moaning down at him.

Shane wailed, one fist curling up tight and weakly hitting against Tim’s chest. “I-I’m close,” he panted, his cock dripping pre-cum onto his stomach. “T-Tim, I’m–”

“‘s okay, I’m here,” Tim groaned, curling his fingers around the younger man’s cock. He started pumping his fist in time with his thrusts, eyes glued to Shane’s face.

Shane nodded furiously, scratching his nails down Tim’s chest. Not long after that, his entire body shook like a leaf and he clenched hard around Tim’s cock, coming in waves. He moaned out loud, his back arching off the bed, and gasping for air.

Tim’s own eyes rolled back as Shane squeezed around him. Shane’s face was turned into the pillow as he breathed heavily, coming down from such a high peak. Tim slowed down some, letting Shane have a moment.

When Shane made eye contact with him again, Tim’s heart stopped. He didn’t think Shane had looked more beautiful than he had right in that moment. His hair was a mess, his face was blotchy and red, there were tear tracks down his cheeks, and his lips were swollen from all the biting. Tim was pulled out of the fantasy when Shane clenched around him again, making a moan bubble out of him.

“C’mon, old man,” Shane smirked, voice tired.

Tim huffed a laugh and hugged Shane close, hips snapping quicker now. Chasing his own release, he hid his face in Shane’s neck, sucking a dark mark against the younger man’s collarbone.

In just a few short, quick thrusts, Tim was following Shane over that ledge with a deep groan, emptying inside the condom.

Shane exhaled deeply, arms wrapped around him. Then, he giggled quietly. He was elated, he was on cloud nine.

Tim lifted his head, hair sticking up every which way. He raised a brow at the younger man and smirked. “You alright?” He chuckled.

Shane nodded, a wide grin on his face. “Yeah. I’m good.”

“Good,” Tim grunted, slowly moving out from between Shane’s legs to dispose of the condom. He crawled back into bed and cuddled close, kissing Shane lazily. They both sighed into it. Eventually, they had to come up for air, and when they did, Tim breathed, “You hungry? I’m hungry.”

“God, yes. I’m fucking starving,” Shane groaned.

Tim laughed and rolled his eyes and pressed a light kiss to Shane’s lips. “You like pancakes? I make some really good pancakes.”

Shane giggled, feeling lighter than he had in years.

[lovebeinaprincessworld]

Quiet love (Neteyam x reader)

Masterlist

Description: You didn’t see the way Neteyam was longing for you, too caught up in why it was impossible anyway. But he was insisting that you were the one he wanted.

Warnings: really insecure reader, that’s all I think

The humans never came back, Neteyam is aged up (like both him and the reader around 19/20)

6336 words

You wished you were more special, you really did. Watching Neteyam being surrounded by all these pretty Na‘vi was breaking your heart, because you knew you would never have a chance with the Olo’eyktans son the way you were. You were just an average healer, even if you were good at what you were doing, you had never had the chance to learn from the tsahìk, that place was snagged by a more popular member of the clan, with influential parents.

Your father had died in the big war, your mother had just found out she was pregnant with you and you were sure she still wasn’t over losing him, even if she put on a strong face. Your mother was such a gentle soul though, always being there for you and supporting your decisions. She herself wasn’t a healer, she was responsible for foraging. You also were happy that she didn’t pressure you to find a mate, now that you were a full member of the clan, instead telling you to take your time, as the decision was an important one.

As if you could ever imagine being with someone other than Neteyam, your heart bound to be broken the moment he finally decided on a mate - which surely wouldn’t be you. He could pick from the strongest warriors, best singers or most talented healers, the most beautiful women of the clan. You were quiet and soft, gentle like your mother, not a hardened warrior or a confident singer - you blended into the background. You were somewhat acquainted with the Sully kids, having a few short conversations here and there with Neteyam too, his little sister Tuk had taken a liking to you, accompanying you into the forest when you had to pick new herbs and plants and Kiri was one of your few friends.

You watched the other girls throw themselves at the firstborn of Jake Sully a little longer, standing at the edge of the village, before being interrupted by the youngest of the family. „(Y/N)!“, Tuk hugged you around the waist, making you laugh softly and you took her into your arms. „Hello Tuk“, you greeted her and she excitedly pulled at your hand. „Can we go explore the forest today? Nobody wants to go with me and sa‘nu said I can go if you come!“, she jumped up and down with a cute grin, making it impossible for you to say no. (Mommy)

„Of course, where do you want to go?“, you gently stroked her head and let yourself be pulled along into the bushes and away from the commotion of the village. „Lo‘ak and Kiri told me about this really pretty clearing with lerìk flowers and I want to gather some“, she explained, leading you through the plants that were growing in your way. „That sounds awesome“, you giggled and were honestly kind of eager to see the clearing yourself - maybe you could pick some flowers for your mother.

What you didn’t know, was that Neteyam couldn’t take his eyes off of you when you left the village with his little sister. Eywa, he was awed by your beauty and the gentle nature you always cared for Tuk with. His parents were urging him to pick a mate since he had passed his Iknimaya, telling him that they didn’t want to put any pressure on him, but that the whole village was waiting for his decision. Yeah, no pressure at all, he thought with scoff.

He had made his decision already - it would always be you. But he didn’t know how to go about this, you were so quiet and soft, not throwing yourself at him like the others, he didn’t want to scare you away by coming on too strong. Lo‘ak was always teasing him about the way he had no problem facing a palulukan when it came down to it, but confessing his feelings to you - that’s were he couldn’t be brave.

„Do you want me to put them in your hair?“, you offered Tuk, the clearing really being a mesmerizing place. „Yes, yes please!“, she immediately plopped down in your lap and started humming one of her mothers songs. You smiled and started fixing the small purple flowers in her hair, one after the other. You loved slow days like this, the hustle of the village exhausting you quickly. Another reason why you weren’t the right one to stand next to the future Olo’eyktan, you thought and your smile dropped a little.

„You looked so pretty!“, you exclaimed with a grin and the little girl hugged you happily. „Can I do your hair too?“, she was already taking some of the flowers into her small hands, and you nodded in agreement, turning around so she could access your head better. You could tell she was working with utmost concentration. When she was done she ran around to your front, a huge smile on her face. „You look so so pretty!“, she giggled and you pulled her into your arms with a laugh. „Not as pretty as you syulang‘it“, you were tickling her and she writhed around in your arms a little before you let up. (small flower)

You two totally forgot the time, engrossed in making some flower crowns and when you finally looked up you saw it was almost eclipse. „Oh Tuk!“, you gasped, „we need to get back, it’s late already!“ The little girl looked up from her now finished work too, standing up when she noticed you were right. „Come on“, you smiled and held out your hand for her, you two trekking back through the forest that got darker and darker. When you were halfway there, you noticed Tuk got slower and slower and when you looked back, she was yawning so big you could see her cute little canines peaking out.

„Come here sweet girl“, you giggled and picked her up, her head immediately falling onto your shoulder. Eywa, she was so sweet it made you think of having children of your own, a family and a mate - in a fantasy that you pushed far away, that mate was Tuks oldest brother. You hummed slightly, walking through the now dark and bioluminescent forest in peace, knowing there were only a few more corners to turn before you reached the village again.

Suddenly you heard a twig snap behind you and froze. If this was some sort of predator, you were more or less helpless, a sleeping child in your arms and no real self defense skills - except some basics you were taught when you were younger. Your heart hammered in your chest, you eyes wide in fear and you slowly turned around, not wanting to startle whatever was behind you.

You let out a shocked gasp when you saw Neteyam standing right behind you with a concerned expression, then you felt immediate relief. „Don’t scare me like that!“, you whisper-yelled, but the worry in his eyes didn’t fade. „We thought something happened! Are you two alright?“, he stepped even closer, grabbing your shoulder with one hand and placing the other on Tuks back.

Your heart was beating so loud you were sure he could hear it, the heat rising to your face and you were glad it was dark.

„Yes we are alright“, you gave him a calming smile, feeling guilty for making his family worry, „I’m so sorry, I totally forgot the time today.“ You looked away from his intense stare shyly and adjusted your hold on the sleeping child in your arms. He still had his hand on you, and the place where it laid was tingling and the warmth from his touch was spreading through your body. „I’m glad you’re safe“, he said quietly and you could feel his stare on the side of your face.

Neteyam couldn’t stop staring. The way your freckles were glowing in the dark and your soft hair with the small flowers in it was falling over your shoulder, made him want to pull you into his arms, never to let go. Your gentle hold on his little sister was only fueling his imagination of a future with you. You would be such a great mother, preferably to his children. Eywa, the thought of you bearing another man’s children made the bile rise in his throat. „Come on, we should head back“, he shook the unpleasant thoughts off and gently took the child out of your arms, trying not to wake her.

As cute as Tuk was, she was getting heavy and you were glad Neteyam took over. But when he wrapped his tail around your waist, guiding you forward, you nearly stumbled and fell flat on your face. This was torture and bliss and the same time, your body was going crazy and you were happily sucking in every bit of attention he gave you, but you knew the more you would obsess over your feelings, the harder the inevitable fall would be. But you didn’t care in that moment, the tight grip he had on you and the way he would glance at you every so often made your heart flutter.

—————————

You sat in the shade of a tree close to the edge of the village with Kiri, the both of you busy with weaving new baskets for your herbs and healing supplies today. You sat in comfortable silence until Kiri let out a huge sigh, making you look up. „What is it?“, you giggled slightly at the annoyed look in her eyes. „My brother won’t stop staring at you, I swear he’s such a skxawng“, she chuckled and you were confused. „What?“, you asked and looked around until you locked eyes with Neteyam, who was sitting together with a group of young warriors fixing their weapons.

His eyes widened when yours met his and he sent you a small smile, making you blush and drop your gaze. „Don’t be silly Kiri, why would he stare at me“, you were sure that he was just looking around and accidentally met your gaze, Kiri liked to tease you after all. „What? Are you blind? Neteyams so in love with you it’s almost disgusting“, she giggled and now you were sure she was messing with you. „Kiri, why on earth would that be true?“, you looked at her so seriously her giggling stopped and she was slightly confused.

Kiri was honestly astonished, couldn’t you see the way her brother longed for you? „Why wouldn’t it be true?“, she asked back, putting down the basket she was working on and focusing her attention on you. „I know you like to tease me, but you shouldn’t joke about something like this. Kiri, he has so many more beautiful, more talented and more confident mates to choose from, he would never settle for me“, she could see the hurt in your eyes when you fiddled with your work, and it left her slightly speechless. „I’m not- I wouldn’t…I swear-”, you cut her off immediately. „Please, just let it be“, you whispered, and she decided to let the topic rest for now. She knew her friend was shy and quiet, but she didn’t know you were so…insecure about yourself.

You weren’t mad at Kiri for messing with you, she couldn’t know that the feelings you had for her brother were so serious that you didn’t allow yourself any kind of hope they could ever be reciprocated in fear of how much it would hurt in the end. You were sure she thought you had a crush on him, just like every girl in the village, and decided to tease you a bit. You could never be angry at her. But this conversation brought your thoughts back to the topic you normally tried to steer clear of, your concentration long gone, making you put your basket down and get up.

„I’ll see you at dinner?“, you tried to smile, and the younger girl got up with you. „(Y/N) I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make you sad“, she looked so guilty, you softly squeezed her shoulder in encouragement. „It’s not your fault, it’s just…“, your eyes wandered off to where Neteyam was talking to Nansìt, a pretty singer of the clan, „…there’s no hope.“ You squeezed her shoulder one last time and walked off, needing some time to yourself. Would you ever get over these feelings?

When dinnertime finally came around, you sat in your usual spot with Kiri, at the edge of the circle so you could talk in peace. Both of you didn’t like to be the center of attention, your mother was always sitting with the adults and socialized. „Yeah and then Tuk jumped on top of-”, she paused, looking to the middle of the dinner crowd. You were looking where she was in wonder, eyes immediately falling onto Neteyam who was making his way towards you two. „Can I sit with you?“, he smiled down at you both, food in his hand and tail flickering behind him.

„Yes sure“, Kiri answered, your throat was clamped shut anyway. Neteyam chose to sit down next to you, his knee touching yours slightly, your ears twitching treacherously. And then the little traitor next to you decided to leave. „I forgot I promised mom to…watch Tuk“, she didn’t even try to find a good excuse, but you couldn’t concentrate on anything else than the way your stomach was tingling so much, you couldn’t even think of eating any more.

„Are you well (Y/N)?“, Neteyam smiled at you, noticing the way your ears twitched in his presence. Eywa, you were just so cute. „Yes I am, thank you, are you?“, you were still not looking at him, your pretty big eyes trained on the floor. Lo‘ak had convinced him to finally ask you to spent time with him today, he was still nervous, but he couldn’t wait anymore. He wanted you to be his. „I am good. (Y/N) I wanted to ask you something“, he took a deep breath, and you finally looked up curiously.

„Do you want to-”, he is cut off by a highpitched voice above him. „Neteyam there you are! You promised you would tell us about your last hunting trip“, it was Zetire, one of his many admirers. You immediately looked back down and he sighed. „I’m busy right now“, he normally wasn’t that rough, but he was annoyed, he didn’t want to spend any time with the other Na‘vi girls, he wanted to sit here with you. „Oh come one, I’m sure (Y/N) won’t mind“, when the girl mentioned your name you winced slightly, and all he wanted to do was take you into his arms and tell the other girl to leave you alone.

„No, no I don’t mind“, you quietly said and Neteyam wished you told him to stay, he honestly would do anything you would tell him. „See, come on then“, Zetire hauled him up by his upper arm, her touch uncomfortable and his eyes never leaving your form. He didn’t want to cause a scene though, he knew you didn’t like the attention. He would have to ask you tomorrow.

„He really is an idiot isn’t he“, Lo‘ak watched the scene with a shake of his head, his sister next to him already had her face buried in her hands. „They are impossible“, she groaned, she thought this was finally it, you could finally be happy. That stupid ngwang, why did she have to interrupt the moment! (Worm)

————————

You had been busy all day, and you were glad you were, because you had successfully suppressed the memory of dinner the evening before. You hated how you just crumbled under the gaze of the other female, you liked Neteyam so much, why couldn’t you be brave, why didn’t you ask him to stay. Not that you thought you were better company than Zetire, but even if you had the smallest chance with him, the way you were acting would surely destroy that immediately.

You were nearly wrapping up for the day, when someone stumbled into the healing tent. And your heart skipped a beat when you realized that someone was Neteyam. He had a few big scratches on his biceps, a few places still bleeding. „What happened?“, you immediately got up from where you were sorting some bandages, pushing the tall warrior to sit down on one of the cots. „It’s not that bad, just a viperwolf getting too close“, he explained and you looked at him with concern, taking out your healing supplies.

He loved the way you looked at him with those big eyes, worrying about his well-being. You would be the perfect mate he just knew it, and he would always provide for you and protect your smaller frame from any harm, being a good and worthy mate to you. He just had to convince you of that too. You registered his explanation with a soft nod, your small hands already working on cleaning and patching up his wounds. He just leaned back slightly, enjoying the feeling of your gentle touch on him.

You wrapped his biceps in a bandage softly, the bulging muscle making you flustered. His gaze was on you the whole time, and now that you were finally done, you were wondering why he didn’t go to his grandma about this. She was a more seasoned healer after all. „Why did you come to me? Was your grandmother busy?“, you looked at him with wondering eyes, about to stand up, but he pulled you back down next to him softly. „No, I wanted to come to you“, he smiled at you, his hand not leaving your arm, your tail swishing behind you.

„Neteyam“, you whispered slightly, obviously overwhelmed by all this attention, but Neteyam didn’t care, he couldn’t wait anymore. „Come fly with me tomorrow?“, he finally asked you the question that he wanted to forever, the idea of spending time alone with you making him giddy. You looked shocked at his suggestion.

„On…on your ikran?“, you were slightly terrified, not being a warrior yourself, you had never flown on a banshee before. „Yes, I would really like to spent some time with you“, his smile made you feel all fuzzy inside, he really wanted to spent time with you! „I will protect you, don’t worry“, he reassured you, softly squeezing your arm, and you felt yourself nod slowly. „Great, I’ll find you tomorrow“, he grinned, his tail swishing happily behind him when he left the tent. Oh Eywa, you really hoped your heart would live through this.

————————

You were nervous all day, completely distracted during everything you were doing and about an hour before eclipse, Neteyam approached you when you were hanging up some herbs to dry. „Ready?“, he was grinning again, his ears twitching slightly. „Yes sure, let’s go“, you took a deep breath, following the future clan leader into the forest. You could feel a few glares on your back, the other Na‘vi women seemingly not happy at the sight of him leading you somewhere where you would be alone.

It was hard not to get your hopes up, your heart grasping onto every small and oh so pathetic possibility of him returning your feelings. You walked in comfortable silence, Neteyam was vigilant about everything going on around him, his bow slung across his back. His toned, broad and muscular back. His tail was alertly swishing from left to right, sometimes the tip would brush your thigh, making your breath falter and your body shiver.

Neteyam had a hard time only brushing his tail against you every now and then, he could feel it made you nervous and he loved every second of it. But what he really wanted to do was wrap it around your thigh and keep you close, making sure he knew you were safe the whole way. When you two finally stepped out of the treeline and had a view of the hallelujah mountains, he called out for his ikran who landed infront of you two after a short while.

The mighty beast infront of you beating his wings intimidated you to no end, your hand immediately grabbing onto Neteyams arm. He sent you a smirk over his shoulder. „Mawey, just don’t look into his eyes“, he patted your hand softly, pulling you forward after he made tsaheylu with his banshee. You had to admit that the beast was mesmerzingly beautiful, but it could also crush you easily with one of its claws so you had your reservations.

The tall warrior loved how you clutched onto him for protection, proud that you trusted him enough to ride with him when you were so obviously scared of it. Before you could change your mind, he picked you up easily by your small waist, putting you down on his ikran and hopping on behind you. Normally if he took someone with him, they would sit behind him, but he figured you would feel more comfortable if he had your back. Also, he couldn’t wait to pull you into his chest, breathing in your scent and enjoying the feeling of you so close to him.

When the strong Na‘vi behind you pulled you close, caging you in with his muscular arms and taking the reigns, you couldn’t even focus on the foreign feeling of the animal underneath you, you were totally preoccupied with not passing out. „Are you ready?“, his breath warmed your ear, making them twitch slightly and without thinking you wrapped your tail around his calf. „Yes“, you were speaking so quietly you weren’t sure he heard you, but he wrapped his own tail around your waist in response and the ikran took off.

Your hands were gripping the saddle so tightly your knuckles turned light blue, but you couldn’t bring yourself to close your eyes, the vast of the forest beneath you and the floating rocks around you were just too memerizing. And you had to admit, tucked into Neteyam like this, you felt kind of secure. His scent enveloped you, making you calm down, but you were also heating up because of his strong chest pressed against you.

Neteyam made sure not to fly too rough, eventhough he would love to show off his skills, he felt you gradually relax against him and didn’t want you to feel unsafe. Your big eyes were in awe at the scenery around you, your scent making him feel like he could do this forever, he was already dreading having to let you go later on. Your tail around his calf made his ears twitch in excitement, everytime he flew between two close mountains it would tighten. He had never been this close to you, your embrace almost intimate, and he loved every second.

You two flew in silence for what felt like ages, the presence of the other enough to be content. But when eclipse rolled around and the bioluminescent forest started to come to live, you landed right where you started earlier. When you felt Neteyams tail slowly let go of your waist, your own tail hesitantly let go of his leg, you really didn’t want this dreamy evening to end and reality to settle in. He jumped down and helped you off his ikran too, holding onto your waist until the beast was gone.

„Thank you for taking me ‘Teyam“, you smiled when you finally found your voice again, a grin breaking out across his handsome face. „Thank you for trusting me enough to come“, he chuckled and you blushed, your gaze dropping to the floor and you missed the dreamy look on his face. „Are you going to attend the feast in two days?“, he asked you and a frown made its way onto your face. „I don’t know, I didn’t plan to“, you admitted and the unhappy look on his face tugged at your heart.

„I know you don’t like the hustle and big crowds, but I would really like to see you there“, he tried to convince you, taking your smaller hand and holding it to his chest, making you all flustered. He planned to lead you away from the crowd after a while and finally confess to you, asking you to mate with him. You still seemed unsure, but nodded softly. „I’ll be there“, you promised and the grin that broke out across his face was almost blinding.

——————————

Your brain was going haywire the whole time your mother was fixing your hair and pushing and pulling on your tweng and top. What on earth were you even doing here? You hated going to these big feasts, normally fleeing the village center and reading one of the books you got from the scientist in your hammock. And what were you even expecting to come from today? Neteyam was probably going to be busy anyway, his admirers were never going to let you near him. But the way you two were so close and touchy two days ago, made your hopes uncontainable.

„Why do you look so sad ma’ite? Aren’t you excited Neteyam wants you to be there?“, your mother stroked your hair softly, worry in her eyes. „I don’t know, I’m scared“, you grabbed onto her hand, and she pulled your head towards her. „Why?“, she asked, patiently waiting for your answer. „What if I’m interpreting too much into this? There are going to be so many pretty Na’vi woman there this evening. What if…I’ll get my heart broken tonight“, you whispered the last part, a thousand scenarios of rejection and humiliation running through your mind.

„I can’t believe someone as kind as the Olo’eyktans son would be so cruel ma (Y/N)“, she reassured you, and you just nodded halfheartedly. You knew Neteyam wouldn’t hurt your feelings on purpose, but if you saw this all wrong and he had no interest in you whatsoever - maybe he was just nice to you because you were so close to Tuk and Kiri - you would get your heart broken today. You wished you weren’t so shy and insecure, you would love to just enjoy this evening.

You arrived at the feast a little late, everyone already gathered, a few fires burning and music was being played. You were immediately stolen away by Kiri, your mother waving to you and telling you to have a good time. „I’m so glad you came! It would have been unbearable without you, I swear“, Kiri told you and you laughed at your excited friend, but your eyes were scanning the crowd for a certain someone.

„He’s not here yet, had to help Tuk get ready, she was throwing some kind of tantrum earlier“, Kiri smiled knowingly and you looked away blushing. „You two are so cute I swear“, Kiri laughed pinching your cheek, and you swatted her hand away unhappily. „Stop it“, you scolded her, but she just giggled, but then her face turned annoyed. „Oh, I’ll be right back, I see Lo‘ak sneaking off over there that skxawng“, she hissed and tried to catch her brother before he could do something reckless.

You smiled at their antics and settled down in a spot in a less crowded area, contentedly watching the people around you. „Did you hear?“, you heard a woman a few feet away ask her friend. „I overheard Neteyam has chosen a mate“, both of them were excited at their gossiping, but your heart stumbled slightly. „They said it is Zetire, they were seen in the village together yesterday“, the first woman spoke, and you were praying to Eywa that this was just a stupid rumor, your heart only just gaining a little bit of hope for itself. „They would make a perfect pair“, the other woman gushed, and you begrudgingly had to admit they were right. Had you really interpreted everything wrong?

„Oh look, there they are!“, you followed the direction where she pointed, and sure enough Neteyam was standing there talking to Zetire who was hanging onto his biceps. The women next to you were actually right, and everything you had let yourself believe these past days shattered inside of your chest. How could you have been so stupid! Of course he would choose her, she was a more than gifted singer and would stand strongly by his side. The thought alone made tears gather in your eyes, but you didn’t want the other clan members to see, so you got up to find a quiet place in the forest. Why did he even want you to come in the first place?

But you didn’t get very far, before a male voice interrupted you. You immediately knew it wasn’t Neteyam. „(Y/N), wait!“, but you didn’t stop, only coming to a halt when a big hand grabbed your upper arm, the touch making you uncomfortable. „Hey wait a second“, Terlsey grinned down at you, and you had to admit eventhough he was good looking, your heart would always be spoken for. „Do you want to join me for a dance?“, he looked excited and you felt bad for turning him down, but the picture of Neteyam and Zetire was still burned into your mind. „I’m sorry Tersley, maybe another time“, your voice was barely stable and the smile you gave was probably more pathetic than you wanted. „Nah don’t be silly, come on!“, you started to protest when he pulled you along, but before he could get very far someone else pulled you away from him vigorously.

Neteyam had been searching for you the moment he finally arrived at the feast, he was already annoyed at being too late. He perked up when he found you sitting in a quiet corner, and excitedly made his way towards you. You didn’t see him, and halfway there Zetire basically jumped him. „Neteyam! There you are, come on sit with us!“, she tried to pull him away, but Neteyam stayed where he was. He really didn’t have time for this.

„I can’t, I have other plans“, he explained, trying to pry her hand off of him, his eyes making sure you were still there. But you weren’t where he last saw you, instead you were standing a few meters back, together with Tersley. That annoying skxawng. You looked like you were uncomfortable, his protective instincts wanting to knock the man next to you out. His gaze darkened, completely tuning out whatever Zetire was babbling about and when that bastard grabbed onto your arm and tried to pull you away, he roughly shook the girl next to him off, leaving her pouting.

He rushed over and pulled you into his chest and out of the other’s arms, his heart unclenching a little bit at your proximity. „Don’t touch her“, he growled, his fangs baring and Tersleys eyes widened, his hands raising in surrender. „Alright, alright“, he scowled, but knew he had no chance against the future clan leader, ultimately leaving you alone. But what Neteyam didn’t expect was you shaking him off and quickly walking into the forest without a comment.

You couldn’t face him, you were embarrassed enough as it was, honestly thinking he could ever like you back. And him seeing you cry would be so humiliating, so you quickly marched through the dark forest, hoping that he wouldn’t follow you, your tears flowing down your cheeks one by one, your heart hurting inside your chest. But of course he was following you, he was probably pitying the poor, shy girl. „(Y/N)! (Y/N) stop!“, he was shouting behind you and you sped up, but after a few more meters he had caught you gently by your upper arm, pulling you around. „Please wait“, he was panting slightly, the tips of his ears dowturned with concern.

„Can I please be alone?“, you whispered, discreetly trying to wipe away your tears. „Are you crying? What did that skxawng do to you? Are you hurt?“, he was frantic, his eyes checking your body for injuries. „No it’s not about him“, you sniffled slightly and before you had a chance to escape, Neteyam pulled you down on a log that was behind you two. The bioluminescence of the forest helping you see his face, a few glowing insects flying in the air.

„What is it then?“, Neteyam was worried about you, the girl he loved was hurting and he didn’t know how to help you. When you attempted to shake off the hand that was still holding your arm, he let you go, but it hurt his heart that you didn’t want his touch. „It doesn’t matter, please“, you wouldn’t meet his gaze either, „you should go back, Zetire is probably already waiting.“ Now he was confused, why would he care about her?

„What? I don’t care about her waiting for me, my priority is you“, he was speaking quietly, trying to get you to open up to him. „Neteyam stop that, I don’t want your pity“, you turned your face away from him. „(Y/N) please, I don’t understand“, he was getting desperate, having no idea what was happening. You let out a deep sigh, wiping at your tears again and there was nothing he wanted to do more than his hands being the ones to dry them. „I heard you chose a mate“, you finally gave him something to work with, eventhough he didn’t understand why you were crying, he was certain you liked him too.

„Yes I did“, he smiled and tried to take your hand, but you pulled yours away, his smile dropping immediately. „She is a good choice, you must be happy“, you whispered and your hands were fiddling with eachother in your lap, your head turned down. „She is perfect, but I can’t say I’m happy right now, because she seems to be hurting and I don’t know why“, he moved closer to you, relieved when you didn’t move away. „Zetire seemed more than delighted, what do you mean?“, your eyes finally met his, and the sad, heartbroken look in them almost made him wince.

„What does Zetire have to do with any of this?“, he was getting frustrated, you could see it. „I don’t understand, she is the one you chose isn’t she? Or is it someone else? Nansìt?“, you thought about all the beautiful women who would immediately agree to be his mate. Suddenly his face got all serious, and his big hands firmly, but gently, grabbed your face as it dawned on him that this was some kind of cruel misunderstanding. „(Y/N), how could you ever think I would want anyone else but you?“, he sounded so sure of himself, and you felt like your heart stopped in your chest.

„Me? But I’m…I mean why would you want me? I‘m way too shy, I hate big crowds and I’m not even overly talented in what I do. The other girls would be a much better choice to stand by your side as the next Olo’eyktan”, your voice was quiet, but he heard you and immediately shot down any doubts you had. „I don’t care about any of the other girls. You are the one I want to mate with. Ma (Y/N) you are perfect, you are so gentle with everyone, the way you care for Tuk makes me yearn for our own children, you are always helping the ones who need it and you are such a talented healer. Not to mention you are beyond beautiful. You are the one I want to spent my life with ma tìyawn“, he pressed his forehead to yours, wiping your tears away softly.

„'Teyam“, you whispered, speechless at the realization that he actually returned your feelings. He smiled at the pet name. „I see you (Y/N)“, he softly stroked your jaw, your face heating up at his confession. Your hands hesitantly wrapped around his neck, a gentle smile lighting up your face. „I see you ma Neteyam“, you whispered, a grin breaking out across his face, his excitingly swishing tail curling around your waist and pulling you even closer.

His eyes darted down to your lips, and your stomach was tingling overwhelmingly at the thought of what would happen next. When you accepted his advances by leaning a little closer yourself, he couldn’t hold back anymore and he softly met your lips with his. The feeling was indescribable, you felt like your body was on fire - in a good, pleasant way. His lips moved carefully and his hands ran down your body, gripping your hips and pulling you onto his lap, making you gasp and break the kiss.

The girl in his lap was blushing madly, but he didn’t care, he was so thrilled that you returned his feelings, making him kiss all over your face excitedly. „'Teyam stop it“, you were giggling so adorably, and he stopped with a lovesick grin on his face. Finally having you in his embrace like this made him implode with pride. He would never let you go. „Please tell me you want to be my mate“, he wanted to make sure you were his. You nodded and he kissed you softly before shaking his head.

„I need to hear you say it ma txe’lan, say that you’ll be mine“, he murmered against your lips. „I’m yours Neteyam“, and that sentence alone made him want to take you to the tree of souls right now, his body telling him to claim you. But he didn’t want to rush you, tonight he just wanted to hold you tight and kiss you as much as you would let him. „Mine“, he hummed contently and kissed you with a little bit more vigor, pulling all these sweet sounds from you. „Yours“, you sighed against his lips, you couldn’t believe you were so lucky. But when he softly traced your lips with his tongue, one of his hands wrapping around your back to hold you as close as possible, you knew he was yours.

—————————

That’s it! A more fluffy and less smutty one this time, I hope you liked it I’m not as happy as with my other avatar works meh..anyways leave some love!

Tags: @brooklynscherry-z @eywas-heir

[accio-bagel]

Coming in hot with a Natty appreciation post ❤️

Wall of text below the cut

I love Natty. She's my brave, frustrating, badass girl, and while the writing for her storyline lacked somewhat in comparison to the other companions, much of the discourse I see around her is so negative - it has really been disappointing to see the kinds of things people say about her. She doesn't have to be your favorite. I'm not saying you have to love her. But you can actually prefer Sebastian and Poppy without disparaging Natsai. You can also critique her without resorting to making fun of her voice or accent. Give her a chance and consider her dialogue and her actions, and you might gain some more appreciation for her.

She is a peak Gryffindor and here are some reasons why I love her, including her flaws:

Friendly, kind, and empathetic: with her experience being the new student the previous year, she knows how scary it can be and she's quick to offer you a place to sit on your first day of class, then readily shares her book with you when she sees you don't have one. She even gives you advice during Summoners Court when you're playing against her, and isn't upset if you win. She tells you she was actually planning on asking you to Hogsmeade with her if you choose her as your guide. She wants you to feel welcomed right away and wants to get to know you.

Brave, powerful, and reckless: just like Sebastian, she jumps in to help you fight a troll without a second thought on her first day knowing you, and she's a strong duelist both in Crossed Wands and on your missions with her. She is ready and willing to gather evidence on her own while you go save a host of beasts from poachers the second she finds out a Hippogriff that means something to you is in danger. She sticks her nose into business she shouldn’t and doesn’t consider the reality of the dangers she’s getting herself into (a very Harry Potter trait.) But would you really rather have her be without flaw? Sounds boring. Ultimately she doesn’t ever let fear stop her from acting to protect others - don't forget she dives in front of the Cruciatus curse for you! She's a damn good friend to have by your side.

Proud and confident but can still be humble and open to change: she is happy to share some interesting information about Uagadou if you choose to ask her and she has pride in both her magical abilities and where she came from. She's confident in Summoner's Court but acknowledges afterward that it took her a while to gain that skill. She also admits she likes the drama of using a wand and she's grown to appreciate Hogwarts and Scotland (except in winter, which who can blame her? it's cold!)

Talented: to name just a few examples, she can cast wandless magic, Weasley calls her out as one of the best students in school, and let's not forget she's an animagus by age 15 - we know from the Harry Potter books that is no small feat and very few people actually achieve the ability.

Strong morals and ideals, stubbornly so: she is a pure heart and wants to take down the bad guys so nobody has to suffer the same way she did as a young girl. Can you really begrudge her youthful idealism? While her motivations are a bit muddy because she has no solid personal connection to Harlow or Rookwood, she is ultimately looking at the bigger picture and striving to make the world a better, safer place. Like Sebastian and Poppy, she won't let anyone talk her out of her ideals and remains undeterred in her belief that what she's doing is right, regardless of the dangers involved. While it shouldn't be up to two teenagers to clear out a criminal organization, in the end, she and you actually do get Harlow arrested finally, no thanks to the utterly useless Officer Singer, so Natty kinda had a point.

Loving and emotional: she is emotionally open with you and isn't afraid to ask for support from a friend while she's suffering from grief and guilt about her father. She isn’t embarrassed to tell you that you’ve inspired her to stand up to power, or how much your friendship means to her. Despite her frustrations, she loves her mother deeply, and she misses her father with all her heart.

Rebellious and independent: similar to Garreth, she has a guardian whom she feels is suffocating her. She wants to roam freely in her animagus form and explore her new home on her own, but her mother is worried about her safety (fair) and the closer Professor Onai clings, the more it pushes Natty to act out. She wants to challenge the system which is allowing Rookwood to strut around Hogsmeade like he owns the place when he should be in prison, and takes matters into her own hands when the authorities fail to act. Nothing more punk and badass than fighting the man and getting shit done.

Pretty, cute, tall: really, seriously look at her! Big Brown EyesTM and lashes for days. Freckles! Need I go on? (I will anyway.) Her profile. That cute little curl in the front of her hair, and from the back her hairstyle looks like a flower. I also recently noticed she is slightly taller than the female MC (tall girls need more love in media) and I can imagine them and Poppy being a cute witch trio of different heights. I also think her awkward smiles are endearing.

Lovely, soothing voice: I find her voice to be very soft and personally, I could listen to her talk all day. Her VA, Jessica Hayles, put so much emotion into her lines, and did you know she also voices three other characters: Nellie Oggspire, Charlotte Morrison, and Hyacinth Olivier? I have huge respect for a VA who can do multiple accents and change their voice to be so distinct for each character that I would've had no idea if I hadn't looked it up.

If anyone actually read all of this just know that I appreciate you deeply

[ever-eilish]

Could you do Billie Eilish asking r out

A (not so) bad day

billie eilish x fem! reader

a day that is supposed to be horrible takes unexpected turns, after you accidentally bump into a certain singer

author's notes: thank you so much for requesting, I really appreciate it! sorry if this is not what you wanted, I really hope you like it though! once again, english is not my first language so sorry for any mistakes, enjoy❤️

warnings: a bit of cursing, but mostly fluff

Chaotic. That was the only way to define today. You know that saying that 'nothing is so bad that it cant get worse'? So, that saying has proven true today.

I woke up 30 minutes late, spilled the coffee in my white clothes, missed the bus, and now I'm here, standing in front of the bland beige door, waiting for my boss to decide to call me to give me some more of his scolding.

Bad luck. That's the only word that can describe my day, or rather, my week.

Everything that could go wrong, did;

I'm in the midst of a series of catastrophic events ranging from the simplest, like knocking my butter breakfast bread to the floor — with the butter-covered part facing down, of course — to the more serious, like being threatened with losing my job by my annoying, weird boss.

I'm snapped out of my thoughts when I see the door in front of me open and the middle-aged man walk out of the room - which looks more like a chain saddle.

"Well, well, it looks like you've decided to be late again?" the wretch says.

As if I'd choose to miss my bus, spill coffee on my white blouse, and wake up late.

"That way I'll have no option but to fire you," he repeats the same words he's been saying to me for so long.

Son of a bitch.

"Sir, please! I promise it won't happen again, I love my job!" I lied.

"I'm sorry, but you're officially fired," he announces, as if announcing me as an Oscar winner. I take a deep breath, count to a thousand, take another deep breath and, with all the calmness in the world, say: "FUCK YOU!" I throw my badge on the floor, and walk towards the office door, ignoring all the crooked looks directed at me, and leave that musty-smelling place.

I didn't even like it there!

My God, how am I going to pay my bills? Fuck that old cuckold.

Fuck that old-man

Oh my God, I'm going to have to sell my computer.

I hated my. co-workers anyway.

My God, my computer.

All thoughts were running. through my head in a whirlwind when suddenly I bump into someone in front of me and fall to the ground.

THAT'S ALL I NEEDED!

Without even noticing who it was, I quickly stand up muttering something like, 'I'm sorry'; and I offer my hand to the stranger sitting on the floor.

And it is at that moment that, with my hand outstretched, I begin to notice the victim of my lack of attention.

The stranger wore a black blouse with white stripes — or white with black stripes - and black shorts. Her beautiful hair had the roots dyed red, while the rest was dark brown.

I could have sworn I knew her from somewhere.

It's very sudden when I feel her warm touch on my hand - which remained stretched - and I feel the girl partially throw her weight on me to get up.

"Oh, I'm sorry! I should be more careful" she says, with an embarrassed smile.

"I'm the one who apologizes! I've been walking around thinking about nothing and ! ended up bumping into you" I say,

scratching the back of my neck.

"Are you okay? You hit it really hard against the floor" was only when the girl tells me that I notice my throbbing hip.

"I'm great!" I lied knowing full well that the last thing I was in right now was 'great'. "Hm, so, you live here?" the stranger says, acting as if she wants to continue a conversation.

I don't have anything better to do, after all, why not talk?

"No! I live in my house," say, internally cursing myself for the terrible attempt at a joke.

Anyway, she laughed, and I felt my. embarrassment soon go away when I heard the good sound of that laughter.

"Oh got it, you're the funny type, then?"

she asks me, clearly joking.

"That's what they say"

We stare at each other for a while when very quietly, I hear the click of a camera. The girl seems to hear the same thing as I do, when she suddenly grabs my arm and pulls me nto the convenience store next to us.

What the fuck is going on?

She pulls me further into the store and 'hides' behind a food rack.

Holy shit, is she being followed?

My God, could it be that she's a serial killer and I recognized her because of that?

Holy shit, I'm too young to die.

What if...

I am interrupted from my mental breakdown at the sound of his voice.

"Hm, I'm sorry about that. You know how it is, right? Paparazzi are everywhere."

My God, I was right.

She's a serial killer and I'm her next victim. "Are you going to kill me?" my eyes widen as I ask.

"What?" she says to me, visibly confused, "my. name is Billie! I'm a singer."

I let myself take a deep breath when I hear what Billie tells me. Well, at least I won't die today.

"Hey, I really enjoyed talking to you, and I wanted to meet you again" she says, looking deep into my eyes "what do you think about going to a coffee shop with me one of these days?"

Is she asking me out on a date?

"Like a date?"

"Yes!"

"I want to!" I reply promptly, and watch as she rummages through her purse for a pen.

"Here!" She finally finds a blue fine-tipped pen, pulls out my hand, and writes something.

Before I can process what was happening, I feel a small kiss being left on my cheek and watch her walk out of the store with her head down.

When I look into my hand, I read:

"Cafeteria 221B, Baker Street;

03/22, at 9:00 pm.

See ya<3"

Maybe today wasn't such a bad day after all.

[jyakkopotto-saddo-gaaru]

PJSK WISHLIST

okay so like. ive wanted to make one of these for a while but ive been too lazy to so now i will COMMIT and i will SHARE MY GOOD IDEAS

songs will be in a Song ~ Vocalists format.

annnnd lets get into it!!!

under the cut, this is a long post :3

VIRTUAL SINGER

Ohedo Julia Night

i put it in vs because im scared a cover would fuck up the tuning </3 otherwise this would be a nice emurui cover. maybe toyahane

Pyrite Girl

love this song lotss!!!! half of it is in english tho so no cover

Death Should Not Have Taken Thee

would have given this to wxs but actually i really like the tuning in this song so lets give it some attention instead of letting covers take the spotlight. also too many wxs songs </3

Butcher's Vanity

the slaughters mine darling just get under the knife

The Real Disappearance Of Hatsune Miku

favorite cosmo song. :3

Hyperventilation Dance

pleaseee please pleasee pleasssee

Oeoeo

PLEASEEE PLEASE PLEASEE PLEASSSEE

Rabbit Hole

i wouldnt be surprised if they did add this one; iirc its pretty popular

Coin Locker Baby

oh you know this would be a boss song. itd have a really fun chart at that

Leo/Need

I'm Done

the choir parts would be so fun to play i think!!

Last Night, Good Night ~ Full group, Luka

no notes, luka would sound nice i think

Ayano's Theory of Happiness ~ Ichika, Saki, Miku

i would make it sakihona but that is not realistic at all

Doubleganger ~ Ichika, Shiho, Miku, Rin

WHY DOES NO ONE EVER TALK ABOUT THIS SONG it would be such a good cover

Knife Knife Knife (🔪🔪🔪) ~ Ichika, Honami, Len

pleassseeeeee colorful pallette if im nice will you let us have this

Lost Umbrella ~ Full Group, Meiko

i literally just want this because the alts would be good

Abstract Nonsense ~ Ichika, Rin

keep the og tuning and give us an ichika alt and im good tbh. it would be such a powerful cover methinks

The Taste Of A Cockroach ~ Full group

trust me. trust me it would be so good

OGRE ~ Full group, Kaito, Meiko

give leoni a few metal songs please

Shokishodo ~ Full group, Miku

i dont want this added if they dont sound angry/generally upset. ik it probably has no chance anyway but shut please and thank you

MORE MORE JUMP!

Age Age Again ~ Full group, Miku

obligatory age age again. if this happens i want an airi alt

Fake Meme ~ Minori, Haruka, maybe Rin??? idk only if they try to match the tuning style

it would just sound nice methinks

Idol ~ Full group, Rin, Miku

colopale you cant ignore this song anymore. other yoasobi songs are in the game. fucking GIVE US AN IDOL COVER. you could even give us an oshi no ko crossover like garupa got

Otsukimi Recital ~ Full group, Meiko

go ahead momojan make me cry

Dear Suns ~ Haruka, Shizuku, Kaito

okay hear me out. i want to give them ONE creepy song at least. also this is one of my favorite songs ever

Darling ~ Minori, Shizuku, Rin

HEAR ME OUT.

Neverland ~ Minori, Airi, Luka

luka to balance out the vocaloids. sorry luka i love you but so far nothing fit you.....

Zero Talking ~ Airi, Shizuku, Meiko

head in hands. im dead consider me dead

Vivid BAD SQUAD

Highway Love ~ Minori, Haruka, Luka

they better keep the og tuning

Nounai Disco ~ Kohane, An, Rin

this would be heavenly skdjjsbdk also i would obsess over the implications of anhane singing this song

Unfriendly Hater ~ An, Akito

its been said a million times but clpl pleaaseeeeeee

Wind Over The Flower ~ Full group

im going to be honest with you i would have given this to niigo if niigo didnt already have enough. but i do think they could all pull it off! bad dogs did well w ame to petra and the vivids could definitely pull off the intense sound of balloons stuff

Just Wanna xxxx With You ~ Kohane, An, Meiko, Miku

make them spoopy. not a vocaloid song but shhhhh

CH4NGE ~ Akito, Kohane, Luka

i was tempted to give this to the vivids but they already had too many </3 akihane would kill this tho and luka would deliver the final blow methinks

WILDCARD ~ An, Toya, Miku

its an english song fully so its probably a no-go :(

GETCHA ~ Full group, Miku, Luka

antoya does miku, akihane does gumi (but luka instead). that would be fun i think

Before I Was Born ~ Full group, Miku

HEAR ME OUT PLEASE

I'm A Ghost Type ~ Kohane, Toya, Miku

look. i love this song. and i think that more syudou songs deserve to be in the game. also they better announce some project voltage songs soon or i will quit istg

Wonderlands x Showtime

Jitterbug ~ Nene, Tsukasa, Meiko, Luka

clpl add this and my life is YOURS. and give us nene and tsukasa alts so we can do a vs-removed mix :)

Mental Chainsaw ~ Full group, Rin

dont ask me why please i just saw it once and now it keeps me up in the middle of the night. its so unrealistic never happening probably wouldnt even be good

Liar Dancer ~ Rui, Nene, Len

i just think it would fit their voices tbh. something something middle school something something...

Skeleton Orchestra and Lilia ~ Emu, Tsukasa, any vs honestly idc

(i. forgot the translation for this song lol. hope i got it right) colopale. colopale. im begging you. colopale. colopale please

Apple Dot Com ~ Full Group, Miku

ik some people want niigo for this but. do you seriously think this song fits niigos style. no it doesnt so COME HERE WANDASHO

Judas ~ Full group

certified wandasho song. please add at least one abuse-ken song to the game clpl im begging you

Role-playing Game ~ Full Group, Rin, Len

i think weve all been too annoying about this and now they wont add it in order to spite us

White Happy ~ Full group

look at the lyrics,,,,,, plus it would just be super cool,,,,,,,,,,,, give them more fucked up songs,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,

Nightcord at 25:00

My R ~ Ena, Mizuki

im not sorry

Abnormality Dancing Girl ~ Mafuyu, Ena, Kaito

THE PEOPLE PLEASER SIBLINGS 🔥🔥🔥 but fr make kaitos tuning sort of like this netsu ijou cover

I'm Glad You're Evil Too ~ Full group

AT THIS POINT I DONT CARE WHO JUST FJUCKING ADD THIS SONG TO THE GAME

Jigsaw ~ Ena, Mafuyu, Len

how long has it been since niigo got a mafumafu song??? too long imo. favorite be upon ye

Android Girl ~ Mafuyu, Mizuki, Meiko

ikik its more a leoni song but IMAGINE MAFUYUS VOCALS AAAAAA (also i added meiko because i havent been giving her enough songs and she would eat on this)

I loved you before ~ Full Group, Miku

everyone gets alts. Everyone.

dogdog ~ Kanade, Mizuki, Len

kanades soft voice would mix well with the mizooks during the chorus, and lets be honest. we need like all the abuseken songs in the game

Kareshi no Jude ~ Mafuyu, Mizuki, Miku

to go with cute no kanojo

Day by Days ~ Full group

to finish off the series

The Girl Who Sells Misfortune ~ Kanade, Ena, Rin

kanaena would kill this imo. plus it fits thematically, at least for kanade. rin would sound nice if nade to match mikus tuning in the og

thanks for reading!!!! this will get updated often so if you want check the og post after things get added or i have an epiphany and go insane on main

(note: a lot of this comes from other people i asked for help making like. a tangible real life comprehensible list with various producers and lots of songs. thank you everyone for the ideas !!!! :D)

[acewritesfics]

All a Fantasy | Dean Winchester 

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Hunter!FemReader 

Request: Yes from Wattpad.

Synopsis: Reader is under a Djinn's power. Her fantasy life involves one of her best friends. 

Warnings: None really. Mentions of supernatural beings. Maybe one swear word. 

Word Count: 2,205

Main Masterlist

Y/N is cooking breakfast when Dean walks into the kitchen, the smell of bacon and coffee having woken him up from his deep slumber. He gives her a sweet kiss good morning before grabbing himself a mug and filling it with coffee.  

Today both of them vowed to take the day off from their jobs. Their work schedules have been hectic over the last few weeks that they haven't had a day off together in three weeks. Dean, a mechanic working in his father's understaffed garage is picking up as many hours as he can without overworking himself and Y/N working as a journalist for the local newspaper, preferring writing over being on tv, found herself covering more than just her own column due to a nasty stomach bug going around the office. 

"How'd you sleep?" Y/N asks her husband of 6 years. They started dating when she was 19 and he was 23 but they've known each other since she was five when Bobby Singer and his wife adopted her. Bobby is best friends with Dean's father John. Her and Dean's younger brother, Sam became instant best friends being the same age. Growing up she did have a little crush on Dean but it faded over time. It wasn't until he visited her and Sam in university one weekend that things changed for the two childhood friends. Dean didn't see her as the annoying little girl who is best friends with his baby brother. Instead he saw her as a beautiful young woman who knows what she wants and where she wants to be in life. He fell in love with her hard and fast. They got married three years after they started dating. 

"So good. That massage worked amazingly. Best I've slept in weeks," he admits, sitting across from her at the kitchen island while she cooks the last few pieces of bacon. The night before she came home to a romantic dinner and a bubble bath. She repaid his romantic gesture with a back massage which led to something a lot more intimate. Dean isn't big on romance but it doesn't mean he doesn't try to make an effort to be romantic. He can be very romantic when he wants to be.  

"I'm glad it worked," she smiles placing the last two strips of bacon onto a plate of food and places it in front of him before grabbing her own plate and sitting next to him. 

As they eat they talk about what they should do for the day and agree to putting their phones on silent and going for a drive and seeing where the road will take them, making sure to be back in time for dinner with their parents. Tonight they plan to announce that they are expecting their first child. Sam, who was out of town for work, already knows about the pregnancy. Him and Jess, his wife, were there for lunch when Y/N got the call from her doctor confirming the pregnancy.  

Once they finished breakfast, Dean cleaned up the dishes while Y/N got ready for their road trip. She was excited and happy to be spending the day with Dean, no interruptions, relaxing as they take a ride in Baby, the beloved Chevy Impala John gifted him when he graduated high school. Many memories have been made in that car with many more to be made.  

When they were both ready, they lock up the house and get into the car, starting their drive out of town. 

They'd been driving around for an hour when Dean pulls into the car park of what looks like an abandoned play area. The grass is slightly overgrown like if hasn't been mowed in months, maybe even a year or two. There's a slight chill in the air as they get out of the car and move to sit on the hood. Dean notices her shiver a little and wraps an arm around her shoulders, bringing her in closer to him.  

It's quiet, far too quiet for her liking. The only sounds they hear is their own breathing. There are no sounds of birds chirping or any other sound you would hear while out in nature. Y/N finds it a little too eerie but feels perfectly safe in her husbands arms as he holds her close.  

Until she hears her name whispered quiet enough to only just be able to hear it. She lifts her head to look around as if she is going to find someone else there. But no one is. She shrugs it off thinking she might've been hearing things.  

"You wanna know the exact moment I knew I was in love with you?" Dean asks, bringing her attention back to him. She looks at him slightly confused. He has told her many times about that moment. He mentioned it in his wedding speech.  

"Have you been lying about it this whole time," she jokes looking up at him.  

"No," he smiles down at her and kisses her, sweetly. Both of them feeling like the luckiest people in the world. 

The kiss starts to heat up when Y/N abruptly pulls away from him, hearing her name amongst the wind but it's louder this time and sounds like it's coming from behind her. She can feel the confusion and concern in Dean's gaze as she whips around to see where the voice came from. 

"What's wrong?" He questions, his voice matching the look in his eyes.  

"You didn't hear that?" She asked. 

"Hear what?" Dean asks her. 

"I swear someone just called my name," she tells him facing him again, but instead of looking at him, she's still looking around the open field looking for the source of her name being called. "You aren't trying to pull some trick on me, right?" 

"I didn't hear anything and I swear I'm not pulling any tricks," he places his hands on her shoulders and pulls her closer trying to reassure her. He didn't know what was happening. "Maybe we should get out of here. It is a little creepy."  

She nods agreeing with him and moves to get back into the impala when her name is called once again but this time it sounds from right behind her and it sounds a lot like Dean's voice. She quickly turns on her heel again hoping to catch whoever is there.  

Shock fills her when she sees Dean but this Dean is different, aside from the different clothes he's wearing. She looks back to her Dean who doesn't seem shocked but angry and then moves her gaze back to the other Dean.  

"Y/N, you need to wake up. None of it is real," the new Dean pleads with her, scaring and confusing her even more. Her eyes fill with tears as she feels as though she is going to faint. She feels as if she's delusional.  

"No you don't," her husband Dean speaks up, glaring at the other Dean. "You can stay here, we can have our baby and live the life we both wish and dream of. The normal jobs, the kids, no monsters, not so much death and destruction. This is what you want. We can have it all, baby. Everything you wish for."  

Her confused and terrified gaze lands on her husband. "What are you talking about?" 

"It isn't real, Y/N." New Dean says again.  

"But it can be," her Dean smiles, the look in his eyes loving and reassuring. 

Something switches inside of her as if she's remembering a lot of forgotten memories. She sees Dean but it's the Dean who's trying to convince her none of this is real. It's them travelling with his father and his brother, hunting down things that are only written in lore books. She sees Bobby teaching her how to shoot a gun, how to draw a devils trap, and to speak Latin.  

"What's happening?" She cries out looking between the two Deans.  

"You need to wake up," Dean number two tells her. "It's killing you. The longer you stay there the more the Djinn is feeding off you." 

"Djinn?" She says her voice barely above a whisper as images flash in her mind of her entering an abandoned building alone and being captured by something.  

"You know you want to stay Y/N. This is after all what you dream about. This is what you want, what you crave. This is your happy ever after. Would you really give this up?" Dean number one questions. 

"This isn't real," she replies quietly to herself. "This isn't what I want because it's not real. It's not real." 

She closes her eyes hearing Dean call her name but she can't tell which one. Only a few seconds go by before her eyes shoot open and she's gasping for air.  

"Hey, hey, hey, breathe," Dean's voice sounds from above her. It's then she notices she's in the real Dean's arms, his eyes are flooded with fright, concern and relief.  

Y/N takes a few deep breaths, taking comfort in her closest friends arms. "Dean?" 

"I'm here, sweetheart," he continues to reassure her.  

"It wasn't real, none of it was real," she says through deep breaths, a part of her grieving for the life she could have if things had been different.  

"I know," he continues to hold her and kisses the top of her head.  

A loud screech came from another room making the both of them jump. Dean let's her go and stands up before helping her to stand. He takes her hand and they leave the room meeting Sam at the doorway, the younger of the brothers worried look turning to one of relief seeing his best friend alive with only a few bumps and bruises.  

"Let's get out of here," the younger man says. Dean and Y/N agrees, nodding their heads and follow Sam out of the building and to the impala.  

A few hours later, Y/N and the Winchesters are in a new town, hunkering down in a new hotel room. Sam is out getting food for them while Y/N and Dean are in the bathroom. She's sitting on the counter next to the sink, medical supplies and a bottle of Jack Daniels next to her. She winces as Dean presses a cotton ball dipped in alcohol to the small cut an inch or so above her eye, cleaning off the dried blood. 

"Sorry," Dean apologises moving the now stained red cotton ball away from her skin to check the cut. He was glad to see it was shallow enough to not need actual stitches. He puts a dressing over it to keep it clean and prevent it from getting infected before moving on to the bruise that was forming on her left cheek.  

"Are you okay?" He asks her noticing she's been awfully quiet since they left the warehouse where the Djinn kept its victims captive.  

"Yeah," she nods. "Just remind me to never get caught by a Djinn again. Those assholes really know how to fuck with your head." 

He nods his head in agreement, remembering his own encounter with a Djinn. "You want to talk about it?" 

She takes a deep breath in and out before shaking her head. "I don't think there's anything to talk about. Hunters don't get to have a life with a marriage, kids and an actual home. They don't get to live their lives oblivious to the monsters in the dark. They don't get normal jobs with normal hours and normal wages. So why bother talking about it?" 

"Hey," Dean said gently grasping her chin between his fingers making her look at him before wiping away her tears that she didn't realise were there. "If you really want all that, it's not too late to get out of this lifestyle." 

"But it is," she disagrees with him. "I was trained in this lifestyle just as much as you were. I don't know anything other than how we live. And even if I could give this up. I know what's out there and I can't just sit by and let good and innocent people get killed by all those monsters we hunt. If saving people from the unknown means I have to give up my fantasy of us getting married, having our own family and a stable home with stable jobs and all that other apple pie life stuff, then I'll give it all up time and time again."  

Dean looks at her with wide surprised eyes. "Your fantasy is us, you and I," his finger points at her before he points it at himself, "getting married and having a family?"  

Her eyes go equally as wide and surprised as his when she realises what she said. "I didn't mean us. I meant... I-" 

Dean's lips crashing to hers cuts off her rambling and any thought she was trying to come up with. It didn't take long for her to kiss back, her brain registering that this is actually happening.  

After what feels like minutes but was only seconds, Dean pulls away but keeps his face close to hers, his lips barely brushing her lips.  

"That's my fantasy too," he admits before kissing her again. 

[hwasdvlly]

Happy Hollow-ween | c.san

↠ summary: a classic yet fun activity for the season is to carve a pumpkin.

↠ pairing: san x fem!reader

↠ genres: family, fluff, and slice of life

↠ word count: 0.6k words

↠ warnings/tags: none. established relationship, idol!san, non-idol!reader, married couple, sannie is husband/father material

↠ a/n: yesss!! another of the choi family which is personally one of my fav writings

“Appa! I want this one!”

“Isn’t that a bit huge? It’s bigger than your head, Mimi.”

The beloved Choi Family are at the pumpkin patch, where they’ll find the perfect ones to carve. It’s the autumn season, too. The weather has cooled down, and everyone dressed in cozy outfits. 

San picks up a pumpkin that his baby is pointing at. He grunts and uses his strength from those gym workouts because it is heavy. “Y/N! What do you think?!” He calls over his wife, who is busy taking pictures of the lovely area. You turn your attention to your husband and see him struggling with the object. You let a giggle, “It’s almost the same size as The Great Pumpkin from Charlie Brown.” You walk up to the love of your life and your little angel. You assumed it was Sangmi’s choice. 

“Okay, I guess we’re taking it.” San tries to look strong, but, for real, his arms are about to break. You know your hubby by heart that he’ll act differently to impress you and Sangmi. 

“Do you need help, Sannie?” You snickered. San didn’t hesitate to deny it. “Nope! Nope! I got this!” The man waddles his way to the parking lot. Sangmi holds your hand. “Appa looks funny.” She laughs at her penguin dad. “You know how appa is, aegi (baby).” You tell your little girl. San will do anything for his angel. 

Once they arrived home, the Choi Family layered old newspapers on the balcony. San and Sangmi are wearing matching Halloween shirts and plaid sweats. You came out of the kitchen after unboxing the utensils to check on your family. 

“Gotta scrape all of the guts out. Like how you pick your nose.” San makes an absurd comparison. 

“Ew! Appa! I don’t pick my nose.” Sangmi rebutted and giggled heartily. 

The man smirks, “Oh, you don’t? Then what’s this?” He reaches over to tap Sangmi’s button nose. She continues to laugh her head off. You melted by the sound of her angelic voice. Maybe she will become a singer like her dad. You joined the duo by helping them scrape the pumpkin guys. 

San sighed tiredly, “Why did she choose this one? It’s going to take ages to carve.” He spoke in a low voice to prevent Sangmi from hearing his complaint. You replied, “Well, you did make a promise to her the moment she was born.” You looked at him with a knowing look. “Promises can’t be broken, I guess.” San meets your gaze, and he shows his cute pout. 

No matter what age or how long you’ve known this man, he is forever a sulky child. 

“Alright! We are done!” San cheers because it did take ages. 

You went to sit with Sangmi and wipe her messy hands clean. “How do you want to carve the pumpkin, Mimi?” You asked. 

“Can we do Kuromi?” She looks at her parents with the prettiest cat-like eyes. How can anyone say no to that? 

San nods his head with a wide smile. “Yes! I like that idea.” He agrees with his daughter. 

When it comes to arts & crafts, San will do it as if it’s a major task. Even though Sangmi wouldn’t mind if it came out ugly, her appa doesn’t accept imperfections. 

The hours went by, and the day was now night. 

You grabbed a small candle to light up. “Here, sweetheart. Our masterpiece won’t be complete without this.” You handed it to Sangmi. She holds the candle and uses her tiny arms to reach inside the top of the carved pumpkin. She places it in the middle before San grabs the lighter.

“Watch baby. This is a magical moment.” He turns it on, and the flame burns the wick. 

Sangmi’s face brightens like the Kuromi pumpkin. “It’s pretty!” She claps her hands. 

San shifts his body to the masterpiece in front of him. “Appa did good, right?” He gives you and Sangmi a smug expression.

You rolled your eyes yet smiled at your self-righteous husband. Sangmi just happily nodded to indicate that her appa did a beautiful job. 

[cosmicvenusnebula]

⋆ Teachers Pet - I ⋆

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Characters: Joel Miller x Fem!Reader AU: Modern (No Outbreak)

Chapter description: Your first day of college.

Contents: Fluff, incredibly large age-gap, cussing, slow burn, very feminine Y/n, mentions of childhood trauma and parental death,

Word Count: 673 - 3,707 characters.

A/n: As of right now, I am 17. I turn 18 in 53 days, so it's gonna be slow burn until January 2025, then its gonna get smutty <3 Also no fucking idea when I will be releasing more chapters, I have severe writers block.

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"Here you go Miss L/n! Your first class starts in 30 minutes." A nice lady at the office hands you your semesters schedule, your first class was music in Building C.

You begin walking towards your first class, looking around you can't believe how big everything is. It almost reminds you of a castle... albeit a crappy castle. You only went to in-person education for Elementary so it never occurred to you that schools for older people would be bigger. Junior High and Highschool took place in your living room in-front of a large computer, bored 24/7, zoned out into the screen as your parents argued all day.

You didn't understand why your parents refused to let you in public school, but at least you were still able to get good grades, even pick up a few skills in art and music despite the cons of being home everyday.

After you graduated highschool, it wasn't a surprise when your father said you shouldn't go to public college because you were "too much". It also wasn't a surprise when he drank himself to death a year later. It was the same night he got taken away by an ambulance that you realized he never wanted you to go to public school because he couldn't control what you did or said.

You finally started researching colleges, and you got yourself enrolled to Texas University of Art and Music. Having your entire childhood spent drawing, painting, and singing you have a strong connection to the artistic side of yourself. Thankfully the university gave you grants, and your mom used all your dead fathers money to pay for what expenses were left.

⋆ ⋆ ⋆

You make it to your first class 10 minutes early, finding your assigned seat you sit down and drop your bag at your feet. You look around slightly and notice a couple girls your age staring, and as you continue to look around you notice no one else is wearing a dress.

'Whatever' you think to yourself, it was just a pink sundress, with light pink tights, a white cardigan, and your white sneakers. You didn't feel like you overdressed, this was just your aesthetic, you wore this kind of outfit every time you went out of the house. Jeans were uncomfortable, and you only wore sweatpants or shorts to bed.

The faint sound of the large clock in the middle district dinging, letting everyone know the hour was up and it was now 9am.

A older female walks in, followed by an even older man. She looked around 54, the man looked a little over 60, and he was... quite attractive. He was taller than you, with salt and pepper hair, a scruffy short beard and mustache, and he was well built but had a slight dad-bod.

"Good morning everyone! I am Professor Servopoulos, I will be teaching you how to properly use your vocals over this next year." The women said, gesturing to the man to go next. "I uhm. I'm Professor Miller, and I'll be showing you how to play instruments." He seems to be slightly nervous, or maybe just awkward.

"Singers, please enter the open door to your left. That's the room we will hold our class in. Instrument players, please stay where you are." Professor Servopoulos walks through the door with her students, turning on the light and you see a choir set-up.

After the door shuts, Professor Miller clears his throat. "Ok, everyone." He says clapping his hands, voice deep and gruff. "This class is to teach you how to teach others music. It's purpose is to give you opportunities for jobs like mine. Today is orientation, and there is a paper on all of your desks, fill it out and hand it back to me when your done."

You begin to fill out the paper, it's a get to know you page. Questions about you, your goals for the future, and 4 options for what instrument category you want to excel in.

Stringed

Percussion

Brass

Woodwind

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I'ma leave it there, it's not good I know, but I don't know how to do slow burn, so uh... we'll pick up in the next chapter <3

(Trust me I am way better at one-shots so... oof sorry)

[bubbles-for-all-of-us]

Can you love me most?

Part 2

requested: I keep having dreams that Azriel and I (or x reader) are in a politically arranged marriage and have to learn to love each other and I feel like that would make a good fic if you want fluff requests.

warning: this involves some heavy topics like attempted suicide, mentions of abuse (no descriptive scenes just mentions) so please be causes. And this does have a pretty big age gap but no one is a child in this. All interactions are between adults. ⚠️

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Azriel was furious. His anger was practically dripping from him as his shadows frantically flowed all over the place. "How could you!", the shadow singer roared as he stood before his high lord, "Azriel", "Don't you Azriel me, Rhysand!" The situation with summer court had been wobbly for some time. Ever since the fiasco that Cassian pulled yet again, things have increasingly gone downhill. Apologies did nothing. Gifts didn't smother the high lord, and the war was about to break. And for some unknown reason, it was he who had to pay the price.

"Everyone's mated. You're the only valid option left", Azriel only shook his head in disbelief, "So I'm just an object in your game? Is that all I am?", Azriel had done so much for this court and had sacrificed so much. All he wanted was some decency in return. And even that was off the table. "Tarquin agreed to let it all go if...", "Do you even realize what you are doing, Rhysand?" Maybe the irritation would have been less blazing if Azriel had been involved in a discussion of this, but no. Azriel was greeted with a letter while he was in the middle of the mission. A letter. Not even a conversation with Rhys himself. "We'll find a way," Rhys reassured the male, but Azriel only stepped back, "She's so young," "That's not true, she's nearly a hundred."

Azriel choked out a laugh, running a hand over his face and asking, "Are you hearing yourself? Do you hear how stupid you sound?" And Rhys felt awful; he did. The last person he wanted to drag into this was Azriel. But he had no other choice. Tarquin appeared to have a sister, whom Rhys suspected the male was trying to get rid of. The deal was to marry her off to someone important in Night Court so that the Prince of Summer would feel less threatened. "Does she even know about this?" Azriel's voice was way lower now. He might have been pissed that he was dragged into this, but he had at least a solid five hundred years of experience in different things in life. You... He didn't even know that you existed until he read about you in the letter he got. All he knew you might have been locked up somewhere. Still as pure as the first snowfall in winter.

"I... I'm not sure," Rhys choked out, and Azriel gaped at his high lord, "Tell me you're joking?" But the shadow singer knew from the way his brother's face paled that the girl had been left in the dark. Shaking his head, Azriel stepped closer, saying, "I will never forgive you, and she won't either." Holding his gaze for a moment longer before he stormed out of the room.

Azriel didn't even get to meet you before the ceremony. He felt like the biggest clown standing there. The black suit felt suffocating, and if he could, he would rip it off. This felt like the biggest mockery ever to him. Yet even now, even without ever meeting you, he found himself worrying about you. The music was making his head pound, and he hated the way all the flowers were messily scattered all around the room. That's not how Azriel imagined his wedding to be. Not that he ever imagined it, but... Still not like this.

The main door to the ballroom opened, and everyone instantly turned to look. You were visibly shaking. And it was clear that Tarquin had a firm grip on you, as even now you tried to escape it. Pulling at your brother's hold as he practically dragged you through the tiled floor. The veil did nearly nothing to hide your tear-stained face. Black streaks of mascara painted your cheeks. A shiver ran down the spymaster's back. The same feeling as when he saw Nesta being forced into the cauldron shifted past him.

He wanted to apologize so badly. Wanted to put the Summer Court prince in his place, but... Azriel wasn't sure what consequences would accrue. What would they do to you if he refused to marry you? Had they done anything as of now? So they could break your spirit just a little. Azriel felt like he didn't blink through the whole ceremony. Once your hand was placed in his, you didn't meet his eyes. You didn't wrap your fingers around his palm; they stayed firmly straight as your hand trembled without a trace of stopping. You mumbled the vows under your breath as tears streamed down your cheeks, and Azriel felt like being cursed by the Mother would have been a happier fate than this.

"You may kiss the bride now," and if Azriel was being honest, he didn't know why he even learned it. Didn't know why, after seeing your tears and quavering body, he thought it was a good idea. But he did it just the moment he got close enough to you, you turned your face away from him before lifting the material of your dress as you turned to run out of the room.

"Sit down," Azriel turned to Tarquin, who rose to walk after you, "She's not your responsibility now." With everyone still watching him and still slightly mortified by the whole situation, Azriel crossed the room in a couple of steps. The moment everyone was left behind, he tugged at the tight collar of his shirt, ripping the first two buttons open. He unleashed his shadows, sending them swirling around the empty hallways. Having no clue where you were. The shadows almost screamed at their master once they got back to him. Outside balcony. Run. Run. Azriel frowned as he made his way there. Even if the shadows were flowing around him more frantically, he brushed it off as the aftermath of heightened tension. However, the moment he stepped a foot outside Azriel's heart sank.

 You were up on the glass railing, bracing yourself on the stones. The wind must have ripped the veil out of your hair and set your crystal white hair rattling alongside the breeze. In all honesty, he wasn't even sure how you managed to keep your footing steady. His movements now had to be sharp and calculated. One mistake, and you would be falling. Some of his shadows tugged at the back of your dress, but you didn't seem to notice. A tear-stained face turned to face the horizon in front of you.

Azriel cleared his throat, making you instantly snap your head in his direction, your legs wobbling as you lost your balance for a moment. Azriel stepped forward, "Get down, dear," his arms reached for you, but you backed away from him, shaking your head. The fall was a long one. Standing here, you couldn't even see the bottom as the clouds covered the ground.  "I want to help," the shadow singer continued speaking softly, but you only choked out, "If you'll move any further, I'll jump." Azriel lifted his hands, yet his gaze was still more than alert. He couldn't help it. It was in his blood. Heart breaking with every tear that rolls down your cheeks.

"I can only imagine how scary this is for you. I have no interest...", "Don't speak", you pushed one of your hands to cover your ear. Everyone around you had been talking for the past few days. Speak about you. Speak for you. You only wanted to know why. What changed that your brother suddenly wanted you out? What exactly had you done?  "I don't want you to..." Azriel tried again, slowly inching closer to you. "I said don't speak!" you yelled out. Turning to face your now-husband, you lost your footing beneath you and slipped over the railing. You managed to let out a yelp as gravity took full control over your body. The sensation of free fall rushed through you as you tightly closed your eyes. It felt like, for the first time, you finally felt alive. As if you've finally heard your heart. All the voices were gone. Only the wind. Cold, cold wind biting at your exposed skin. 

It didn't have time to fully set in, though, because two strong arms wrapped around your middle and everything came to a halt. Those arms clung to you for dear life. You had a feeling it was him. Azriel. The shadow singer. The females who dressed you pitied you, saying prayer after prayer to save your soul. He was a monster, they said. They told you not to speak and to always obey because one wrong move could send you to the other world. The male knew no mercy, and you were never going to feel loved.

You shivered like an autumn leaf in the wind as Azriel walked with you in his hands. He said nothing, and you didn't dare to push your luck. You could tell that he was tense. His muscles felt like rocks. Was it just because he was fit, or was it because he was so mad at you? The room was dim and dark. It didn't have a bed, but you let yourself assume that one of the doors would lead you to a bedroom. Azriel just stood there. Looking at the window at the end of the room. Kind of there, but at the same time in a completely different dimension. The view of you falling played on and on in his brain. What if he didn't catch you? What if you had hit the sharp side of the rock? What made you jump to such extremes? To not fight but to give up without a second thought.

"Will you hit me?", your voice was so small that Azriel felt like he was going to vomit from the sheer amount of fear that dripped from you. "Or do you want me to get naked and please you now?", you didn't look at him, but you moved to pull the material of the sleeve off your shoulders. "No," Azriel found himself stuttering as he watched you. Your hands firmly move to wrap around your middle. "Listen to me. I would never do such things. Never", he desperately wanted to meet your eyes just so he could tell if you believe him even a little bit. "Has anyone... has anyone ever hurt you in that way?" The shadow singer knew this was a dangerous question and that asking it like that was wrong, but a part of him was ready to slaughter a whole village if he had to. No woman deserved to be harmed in such ways. Azriel kept his distance from you, knowing how intimidating his size can be. You shook your head slowly, and Azriel found himself feeling somewhat relieved.

"I own you an apology and want you to know that I had nothing to do with all of this", the spymaster continued, "You own me nothing", "Don't I as your wife need to carry out all of these duties, tend to your needs, bear you children?". This had to be some old lady's doing. Digging into your brain like that, "No, you don't have to be anything you don't want to be." You nodded your head once again, slowly lifting your gaze at the male before quickly dropping it back down. He was attractive—that was not a lie—but you still didn't know him. He was a stranger who, in a matter of minutes, owed you by the rights of gods.

"How about we start with an introduction? Azriel," he said, reaching out his hand to you, which was covered in deep-rooted scars. From a battle? From killing innocent? Self-defense? Or was he harmed by someone? You shook your head quickly, shaking away the thoughts as you reached to hold onto his hand, "Y/N". That was the first step in your journey together. The place turned out to have two separate bedrooms, and for that you were thankful. You two barely talked, and if Azriel were to walk in while you were still in the shared living space, he would simply nod his head your way before disappearing into his office. You attended most of the not-so-serious court meetings together, but the moment Azriel noticed that they only dampened your mood, he dismissed you from any of the work that Rhys wanted you to be a part of, and since you had to obey your husband, you spend your days cooped up in your chambers.

The scars from this didn't all heal overnight. The pain of this bargain was still flowing through the both of you. Azriel heard you weeping multiple nights in a row. He heard you but didn't leave his bed. At first, it was easy. It almost soothed him. As if you were letting out all the emotions for both of you. Then came the frustration, and he found himself gripping the sheets, wishing he wouldn't hear you. Only after a week of listening to your cries did he get up. Walked out of the room as quiet as the darkness itself. Watched you as you sat all curled up by the window. Even in the darkness, he saw your tear-stained face and your trembling shoulders.

The moment you turned to face him, Azriel only let out a deep sigh before sitting down not far from you. "Come here," he mumbled, already dropping one hand over your shoulders. Your hesitation didn't last long, as you fell into his embrace. Your arms clutched him as you clung closer to him. His fingers slowly brushed your hair as you trembled. Without really realizing it, Azriel found himself humming. He hummed a melody his mom used to hum when he wasn't feeling well. He held you that night till your body eased and sleep took over. However, after he gently lowered you to your bed, he couldn't find the strength to pull your hand out of his. You needed him. He had to step up. He had to be a good husband. So he stayed.

After that night, you would fall asleep together in either your or his bed almost every night. Fell asleep, but we never woke up together. You didn't blame him. Nor could you blame yourself. He was a busy male, and you... Well, you just didn't know how or when to approach him. So you settled for occasional exchanges of words here and there. Azriel was working more simply so he could take his mind off of you. Of everything. He wanted to somehow melt the ice between the two of you, but he didn't know how, and he wasn't about to run to his family for a piece of advice when they were the ones who put him in this situation in the first place. Before he stepped through the door of your chamber, he waved at his shower, who swiftly handed their master a bouquet. Nothing special, but he saw them on his way back from town and figured he'd get them for you.

However, his body was ridged with fear the moment he stepped in. Blood. He could smell blood. He couldn't tell if there was a lot of it, but there was blood. The spymaster struck your bedroom first, but seeing no sign of you there, he knew you would only be in the bathroom. It's the blood. It's the first day. The image of you on the railing flashed through his mind. There was blood; he smelled blood. "Y/N," Azriel said, firmly banging his fist on the wooden door. No answer. His fist rose again, but then, "Go away." It was clear to him that you were in pain. A lot of pain, "Open the door or, at the very least, tell me what's going on." He had never felt so helpless standing on the other side of the door. But all he heard in response was a hiss coming from you, and that's all it took for him to kick the door open. He knew that this was invading your privacy, but if you were hurt, he felt the right to make an exception just this once.

And here you were. Hair frown up messily. That tired look on your face, along with the purple bags under your eyes. One hand gripping the counter. The other clenched your stomach. Stomach. His eyes fell to your blood-stained thighs, and his gaze instantly shifted to the floor. Your cycle had started. Mother strikes him for his stupidity. He wasn't sure what to do. You were clearly in pain, and now, on top of everything else, he had to embarrass you like that. Azriel wasn't sure of what he was doing. He moved around the bathroom, pulling out some clean lines, before handing them to you so you could wash up. He would have offered to help you do that, but from the way your checks burned red, he decided against it. Walking out of the bathroom so he could grab you some of his clothes so you wouldn't need to struggle in all of these tight corsets and uncomfortable dresses.

"Please just..." Your hands were covering your face as you sat on the floor with your still blood-stained nightgown on, "I don't mind, this is natural", Azriel tried to sound as calm as possible, but his heart was beating rather rapidly inside his chest. "It's disgusting", "It's just blood. Come on, let me get you to bed," you wanted to protest, but Azriel scooped you up with ease. He didn't carry you to your bed. He carried you to his instead. Before offering you his clothes and some privacy to change.

When he knocked on the doors once again, you were already swallowed up by all the warm blankets that surrounded you. "I brought you a topic for the pain, light snacks, and a lot of water. You need to stay hydrated", you looked at him through your droopy eyes. The pain made you rather disoriented, "I'm sorry you had to go out of your way to do all of this", Azriel frowned at your words. "I'm doing this because I wanted to", you watched him for a moment. His wings were neatly folded behind him as he sat on the end of the bed. You weren't sure why, but you reached your hand towards him, and he took a hold of it instantly. "Can you lay with me?", "I have a...", but Azriel cut himself off mid-sentence before nodding his head as he made his way onto the bed. The moment you were close enough, Azriel placed his palm on your lower stomach, and that extra warmth of his skin instantly made you purr in delight.

"Come on, tell me something good", after the whole period fiasco, you two had started talking to one another more. It was quite ironic that the period and your dying in bed for a couple of days would be the things that got you two speaking, but you were thankful for him and the amount of time he had spent with you. "What is something?", you two were now sitting in the little living room that joined the two bedrooms, both nursing a glass of wine each. "Well, you lived, traveled, and fought in multiple wars," Azriel growled as he leaned back on the sofa. You've been nudging him to tell you tales of his travels for a while now, but he always found a way out. "Oh, come on. You are such a stubborn brood."

 Azriel instantly turned to look at you, and you felt a shiver run down your spine. Have you finally crossed the line? But he only let out a laugh before shaking his head. "Ah, so that's how it is?", you crossed your arms over your chest and watched him, "No, actually don't say anything. I'll find a book in the library." As you two continued to stare at each other, Azriel let out another laugh. "Don't do that," he muttered after some time. "Do what?", you asked him innocently, not dropping your eyes. "Don't look at me like you want to kiss me," you swallowed harshly, quickly dropping your haze to the glass in your hands. That night, you two parted ways, both aware that if you shared a bed, one thing would lead to another, and then...You bit your lip as you stood with your back to the door. You couldn't help all the thoughts that raced through your mind. Your gaze fell onto another set of fresh flowers on your nightstand and a box of sweet treats. You chuckled under your breath as you saw a rather thick book lying on top of your pillow. War tactics and the art of battle.

Azriel was raging as he ripped his leathers off. The day had been horrible. His spying mission failed, and that in itself happened so rarely that it set him off first thing in the morning. And then there was Rhys. Rhys never seems to shut up these days. Stupid was the fact that, till not long ago, Azriel thought that it was Cassian who spoke simply for the sake of speaking. The spymaster was desperate for a boiling bath. To simply sit in the hot water until it cooled along with his temper. But he was met by you. You were in the middle of the bath, and the bathroom was filled with endless amounts of bubbles. On the floor, walls, everywhere. Like mirrors, they illuminated the room and you in it. He was about to turn around and leave when he heard your voice, "Oh no, spymaster, come join me." Azriel wanted to say no. Especially after discovering an empty bottle of wine by the bathtub's side. "I'll cover my eyes so you can get all naked," you chuckled, placing your palm over your hands, but not even a heartbeat later spread your fingers apart to peer in between them.

Azriel couldn't help but let out a laugh, the worries slowly slipping away from his mind. "You are quite something," he said,  "I prefer gorgeous, attractive, and sinful, but I'll take quite something this time." You leaned your head on the side of the tub, smiling at the male sheepishly. "You're drunk," Azriel said while undoing his pants, and you instantly frowned, "I am not; don't make me challenge you to a drinking game." You knew that you would lose a game like that in a heartbeat, but with the slight buzz in your system, you were feeling quite confident.

Azriel entered the tub on the opposite side of you. Eyes once again not leaving one another. There was this weird, unfamiliar itch. This needs to somehow get closer to him. But instead, you scooped up a handful of bubbles before blowing them toward Azriel. He wasn't quite quick enough to cover his face, resulting in bubbles covering his face and hair. Azriel quickly grabbed a hold of your hand, dragging you close to him and making you squeal. "You're giving me that look once again." He was so much closer to you now. Your hand was lying on his thigh under the water. Your mind was racing so fast that you weren't sure if you would be able to form a sentence.

"I didn't kiss you during the wedding; I owe you a kiss," you mumbled softly, your hand coming up to wipe away some of the bubbles from the side of his cheek as you giggled under your breath again. Azriel went rather stiff as your fingers grazed his cheek before you very carefully leaned in. You pulled away after a single pack. It was Azriel who quickly placed his hand on the back of your neck, bringing you closer to his lips once again. Kissing you over and over again. Kissing you till your lips were all puffy and red. Kissing you till there was no breath in your lungs.

This feeling had been eating you up. It's like now a part of you was consumed by it. By Azriel. Rubbing your palms together, you walked back and forth in your room. You've been meaning to tell him this for some time. But even after the kiss, not much had changed. You talked, laughed, and ate dinner together, but he was still closed off. And at times it felt like he opened up himself to you only when it suited him and his interest. No, he was just more introverted than most. So you walked out of your room in a hurry, quickly knocking on the door that led to the room Azriel worked in. He was surrounded by paperwork. You had never stepped foot here, so the shared curiosity made you stop.

"Did something happen?", Azriel's voice sounded slightly frustrated, but now that his eyes were on you, you had no choice but to go on with your plan. "I think I'm falling for you," you blurted out quickly. Azriel lowered his inked pen onto the table and asked, "Falling for me?" You quickly nodded your head, waiting for him to say something, but his face broke out in a smile that made your heart flutter slightly. "Well, I don't think it's something that should or could happen", those words stung you, and if not that, then how he picked up a piece of paper with you still there and returned to the work he was doing. You knew that you didn't need to say anything and that he wasn't going to care, but you still muttered, "Right, right, of course," before turning around and walking away, quickly wiping away the tears as you headed towards your room. Maybe they were right after all you were not going to find love in the spymaster's embrace.

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All acotar writing: @brekkershadowsinger @cityofidek @baebeepeach @lucyysthings @hideing @urfavbrunettebish @historygeekqueen @marina468

[blue-slxt]

Tame Me

🔞Minors, Do Not Interact🔞

A/N: This is Part 1 of my first ever series. I think it came out pretty well so I'm hoping that you all like it too. I'll post an update for when Part 2 is ready to be posted. All characters are aged up.

Next Part

Pairing: Neteyam x Fem!Omatikaya!Reader

Warnings: Dom!Neteyam, Spitting, Slapping, Spanking, Praise Kink, Masturbation (m and f), Bondage, I think that's all for this part

Word Count: 3.6k

Summary: Even though many men in the clan want you, you don't believe any of them has what it takes to break you. So Neteyam takes on your challenge.

You come home to find an arrangement of flowers on your sleep mat and rolled your eyes at the sight immediately knowing who they were from. Neteyam had been dropping in courting gifts for a while now. Flowers, woven accessories, beads, food, you name it. You had no idea why out of all the na’vi he could have, he chose you. There was practically a line of girls pining for just a sliver of his attention. The best dancers, singers, braiders, etc. You were a great fighter, but men did not usually look for warrior skills in a mate. Why Neteyam of all people would choose you made no sense. Most men in the village considered you too wild. And you didn’t mind this. You were content with not having a mate yet. As far as you were concerned, there wasn’t a man among them that you felt could handle you.

Brushing your messy locs out of your face with your hand, you take a deep breath. The gestures in and of themselves were sweet, but they were not your type of thing. Nevertheless, you place the arrangement of flowers over to the side with the other gifts and you decide to go for a stroll through the forest.

There was one spot that you would often visit when you needed time away from everyone and everything. There was a small clearing in a patch of tall grass. It was essentially deserted, and it gave you a private place to be alone with your thoughts.

You sit in the clearing with your knife and a branch that you start to sharpen into a spear. Carving always helped you think. Sitting there lost in your thoughts, you almost miss the sound of rustling in the grass. Jumping up to your feet, you turn towards the sound with your knife in hand, ready to attack if you need to.

“Woah, woah, no need to be so hostile. It is only me.” Neteyam said stepping out of the grass and into the clearing with you.

You relax your stance and drop your weapon and go back to carving your spear taking a deep breath to mentally prepare for this conversation. “Why are you here?”

“I wanted to come talk with you.” He comes closer and takes a seat next to you. “I want to know what is it that you like? You ignore my advances and my gifts. You don’t even so much as look at any man. What is it that will finally grab your attention?”

You can hear the agitation in his voice despite his best efforts to hold it together and come off as sweet.

You raise your eyebrows while you think about his question. You never take your eyes off your spear, though. “I want a man who is my equal. I need someone that can handle me; challenge me. And I don’t think that’s you. Or any man around here for that matter.”

Neteyam chews on your answer for a moment. “If that is it, then I can do that.” You scoff, his confidence is almost comical to you right now. Neteyam was one of the best warriors of the clan and you respected him in that capacity. But to think that he would be the one to try and break you? That was something you had to see.

“I’d like to see you try.”

Neteyam shoots you a smirk that you catch out of the corner of your eye before he stands and takes his leave.

Well, this should be good.

…

It’s been about 2 weeks now since you and Neteyam had your talk in the forest. Since then, there have been no more courting gifts and Neteyam barely even acknowledges you anymore. Otherwise, he seems to still be acting normally with everybody else. Why is he suddenly leaving you alone? But this is what you wanted, right? But something about it all felt off.

You found yourself going back to the clearing again to think. You had several branches with you to carve since you could feel that you were going to be there for a while. You hear a familiar rustling in the grass again and you know that it’s him. You don’t even bother to ready yourself this time, you just stand up and face the direction of the sound waiting for him to appear. “I know that it is you Net—” you were cut off by a powerful force tackling you down to the ground. In an instant you were on your back and Neteyam was on top of you holding your wrists on the ground next to your head. His breathing was heavy and his eyes were scanning your face.

The surprise attack definitely caught you off guard, but it didn’t take you long to flip into fight mode. “Get off.” You demand him. He only tightens his grip on your wrists. Seeing that you’ll have to fight your way out of this situation, you swing your legs up to wrap around his waist and pull him off you. You follow the direction of his body and sit on top of him gaining the upper hand. Holding your knife close by his throat you whisper in his ear, “Good try.”

It doesn’t take long, though, before he rolls himself over and you’re sent crashing to the ground again. This time when he is on top of you, both of his knees are pinning your arms down and his hand is gripping your jaw forcing you to look at him. Your knife fell out of your reach. Now you’re out of breath and in a position that you can’t break out of. You squirm and try to battle out of your current position, but to no avail.

You hiss at him in frustration and he hisses at you right back inches from your face. His eyes are dark and focused. He’s never been like this and you had never felt so helpless. Your face starts to heat up and you clench your jaw. “What do you want?”

“It seems you need somebody to knock you down a peg.”

“And you think it’s gonna be you? Nice try, pretty boy, but I don’t think so. Now, get the fuck off.” You struggle under his grip. His free hand takes ahold of the base of your queue to hold your head still. His grip on your queue lights a fire in your chest and makes you feel a throbbing between your legs.

“First, we need to do something about that smart ass mouth of yours.” He says eyes fixed on your lips.

His thumb makes its way between your lips and in your mouth. He says only one word “Suck.”

You weren’t ready to just let him have his way just yet. In response, you bite his finger which he quickly pulls back from. You grin up at him feeling triumphant until you see him raise his hand.

His hand makes contact with your cheek with one swift slap. It wasn’t hard enough to do any real damage, but it stung all the same. You lay there wide-eyed and slack-jawed. You couldn’t believe that the ever patient and gentle Neteyam would actually strike you. While the feeling in your cheek had a twinge of pain, it also kind of turned you on.

He places his thumb back into your mouth and repeats, “Suck.”

This time, you do as you’re told and close your lips around his thumb sucking and licking.

“Good girl. So you can listen.” He moves his thumb in and out of your lips slowly watching it glisten from your saliva.

He keeps his eyes on you watching your every move. You’ve never felt this sensation that was building in your stomach before. No one has ever had you in this position. None of them had the guts, but Neteyam was here right in front of you, making it happen. And that was pretty hot.

Neteyam pulls his thumb out of your mouth. He uses the hand gripping your queue and pulls on it to lift your head back. Now you were full on blushing and you hated it. It was one of the deepest embarrassments you’ve ever felt, but you’ve never been as hot and bothered as you were right now.

“Open your mouth. Tongue out.” It was like your body no longer listened to you. Even though your brain was screaming ‘no way’, your mouth opened up and your tongue stayed out.

You watched in near horror as a long line of spit fell from his mouth and into yours.

“Now swallow.” You were in no position to defy him even if you wanted to. So you swallow.

Neteyam leans down with the most sly smile you’ve ever seen and he growls at you, “You will be mine. That is not a question. Understand?” He was mere inches away from your face and you just stared at him for a moment hoping you could just say nothing and he would leave it be. You had no such luck, though. He pulled harder on your queue and you nod your head waiting for him to release you. He lets you go and climbs off you. He walks away and you continue to lie there for what feels like hours trying to process what the hell just happened.

You returned to your hut carrying the assortment of spears that you carved today. You notice a single flower sitting on your sleep mat. Instead of rolling your eyes at the gift, this time, you sit and smell it. You admire its petals and drown yourself in its scent.

…

The next time Neteyam sees you, you are collecting fruit for the upcoming ceremony for the clan. In just a few weeks’ time, the day will come for the young men in the clan to take their place among the people and take a mate. You actually don’t look so on edge today like you usually do. You actually look approachable. And your usually messy locs were out of your face, showing off your soft features. Someone calls your name in the distance and you turn to find the source of the call. And that’s when he sees it. The flower. You’re wearing the flower in your hair.

He smiles to himself and continues on his way.

…

You found yourself taking notice of Neteyam more often in recent days. You would search for his face in a crowd. Would go to the clearing in the tall grass more often. Tried to tell yourself that it was just to clear your head which was full of millions of thoughts. But in truth, you were hoping for another encounter with Neteyam. At times, you would catch him going about his day and he would shoot you a smile and you would have to look at the ground to avoid him seeing your flushed face.

This was so unlike you. You have never been the type to actually hope for attention from anyone. What the hell had he done to you? It was like some sort of dark spell had been cast over you. This cat and mouse game continued on for yet another 2 weeks and it was driving you crazy.

 You stand in your hut completely bare. Food had spilled onto your clothes and you had to strip them off to change. In the midst of searching for new garments to put on, you hear the flap to your home flip open. You instinctively grab the sheet from your sleep mat to cover yourself. And of course, standing in the entrance is none other than Neteyam.

You clench the sheet around your body a little tighter and your heart starts to beat a little bit faster. “Can’t you see I am in the middle of something?”

He stands there unphased by your words or attempt at modesty and he stalks over towards you. “Come now, there is no need to cover a body that will be mine.” The words drip from his lips as if it’s already determined.

You scoff at his words, “Neteyam, get out.” He comes closer and you try to step back, but your back is already against the wall. He uses one finger to tug on the sheet while eyeing your hidden figure. “Let me see.”

Now, you’re positive he has lost his mind. He couldn’t be serious. “No.”

His eyes turn dark and he narrows his gaze at you. He uses one hand to grab you by the throat and lift you against the wall. He didn’t lift you high enough to strangle you, but it was high enough that you were on your toes trying to take some pressure off. He came so close to your face that the tip of his nose lightly kissed yours when he spoke.

“That’s not a fucking option. You do not tell me ‘no’. Your body belongs to me.”

You mindlessly lick your lips feeling that familiar warmth in your chest and throbbing between your legs. The pressure on your neck was increasing by the second, but his grip didn’t let up. “Now, drop the sheet.” He demands.

Your hands fall to your side and the sheet drops to the floor beneath you. His greedy eyes race up and down your body. The fullness of your chest, your nipples sticking straight out, your broad hips, plush thighs, and dripping pussy. It was enough to make him let out a deep, lusty growl.

“Now, here’s how this is going to work” he cautiously removes his hand from your throat. “The better you listen, the more likely you are to get a reward.”

You had to admit to even yourself, you were curious about what this reward would be. Regardless, you were not going to submit so easily. You hiss at him, a warning, but also a challenge. A dark grin plays across his face. “Such a nasty attitude. Let’s fix that.”

He grabs your wrists with one of his hands and you struggle against his grip. You pull, but he yanks your hands above your head. He grabs a piece of rope that was hung on your wall and uses it to tie your hands together.

When he’s made sure that you’re secured, he throws you over his shoulder. You beat on his back and thrash as much as you can, but he still holds you in place. He walks with you over to your mat and he lays you on your stomach across his lap. “Now, I would like an apology.”

You scoff and roll your eyes, “As if.”

Next thing you know, a sharp sting fills your body. Did he just spank you? You turn your head to look behind you and see his hand raised and at the ready in the air. “What the hell Nete—” you were cut off by another smack.

“That’s not what I asked for.”

“Wait until I get out of this, I am gonna—”

Another smack. He was relentlessly striking you in the exact same spot each time. Your skin felt hot from his repeated blows. Tears start to sting the corners of your eyes from the pain, but you can also feel your juices running down the insides of your thighs.

He hits you again and you muffle your whimpers in your forearms.

“What was that? You’ll have to speak up.”

He spanks you one more time and the feeling finally becomes more than you can bear. “I’m sorry! I’m sorry Neteyam! Please!” you finally yell out feeling your pride crumble under his touch.

He touches you again, but instead of smacking you, he gently smooths his hand over the previously abused skin. “Good girl.”

‘Good girl.’ The name rings through your head.

He lifts you off his lap and sits you upright in front of him. He still leaves your hands tied together, though. His eyes trail over you for a minute and you can feel your stomach flipping under his watchful eye. You can’t figure out why this time feels so different. You were used to men eyeing you. Lustful gazes that longed to devour your form. But this, was nothing like that. Neteyam’s eyes were usually so soft and full of light. But right now, the man standing in front you, you hardly recognize him. He has the eyes of a wild beast. A predator ready to pounce on his prey. And you felt just as vulnerable. You ball your body up as much as you can wanting to hide from his line of sight.

His eyes fall on your legs, “open them”. You hesitated, but you didn’t want to test his patience and risk being spanked again. You let your knees fall to the side and the cool night air brushing against your heat made you shiver.

“Fuck” you hear him mumble under his breath.

No one else has ever seen you in such a way. Your face burns with embarrassment but also desire.

Neteyam grabs your bound hands and brings them down between your legs, “spread it open.”

Your head feels like it’s spinning at the scene unfolding in front of you. It feels like you’re not in control of yourself anymore. Two of your fingers spread open your lips revealing the pink of your core.

Neteyam backs up admiring you and the position he has you in. He licks his lips as he undoes the tie on his loincloth. His dick springs to life finally being released from its confinement. Your eyes go wide at the sight of it. Who would’ve known that the future Olo’eyktan was packing so much. He’s not lacking in length or girth. It’s enough to make you quicken your breathing. The tip was already dripping precum and now it was your turn to lick your lips. You suddenly couldn’t stop imagining the feeling of it stretching your mouth. What he must taste like.

He slowly starts to stroke himself never tearing his eyes away from you and your aching hole that clenched begging to be filled. He hovers on top of you still pumping his fist up and down his shaft. His tip is only centimeters away from your pussy, but the lack of friction, was torturous. It burned deep inside of you until you couldn’t stand it anymore and let your fingers go to work moving in and out of you.

Neteyam glances down at your fingers, and shoots you a smug smirk, “you must really want that reward, huh yawne?”

‘Yawne.’ Another name to shake you to your core.

His face is nestled in your neck and you can feel his heavy breathing. Every hair on your body is standing on end.

The only sounds in the air are pants and moans from both of you. You can feel the pressure building in your body wanting release. “F-fuck, I’m gonna cum!”

Neteyam pulls his face back to watch yours. His free hand runs his fingers thru your hair, brushing stray locs out of your face. “You’re doing such a good job ma yawntutsyip. Let me see you cum for me, sevin.” His fingers thread their way to the root of your hair and he grips it firmly.

All of the stimuli is too much. Your orgasm washes over you and it’s overwhelming. Your fingers stretching your pussy as best they can, the grip he has on your hair, and all his words of praise, it’s enough to drive you mad. As your body shakes and trembles, your eyes roll to the back of your head and you feel as if you just might lose yourself. You squirt all over Neteyam’s lower body and he growls in your ear.

“Such a good fucking girl. I guess you’ve earned your reward.” There’s a sharp sting on your shoulder and you wince. You look down to see Neteyam sinking his teeth into your skin. He was officially marking you. The logical part of your mind wants to push him off. But you’re so lost to your hormones that you can’t find any strength to move him. Instead, you angle your head over so that he has even easier access to you. You revel in the feeling and it damn near rips another orgasm from your body.

Neteyam approaches his own orgasm and releases his bite on your shoulder. He leans back still stroking himself until he cums right on top of your pussy. He pants trying to catch his breath and takes in the sight of his seed dripping down between your soaked folds.

You let your head fall back also trying to steady your breathing. You sit up and gather your thoughts. Once you feel like you have your wits about you again, you shoot Neteyam a dirty glare. He tsks and holds your chin with his fingers, “Now, don’t be like that.” He lifts your face up and to the side to admire his handywork on your shoulder. He smiles proudly to himself. “Now everybody will know who you belong to.”

You clench your jaw feeling humiliated knowing that you’ll have no way of covering the mark he left on you and you were now covered in his scent. “Just untie me already.”

“Whatever you want, yawne.”

He uses his knife to cut your binds and you rub your wrists finally feeling relief. You watch him pull his loincloth back on.

“Well, I should be going. Sleep well, sevin.” He grins at you before turning to exit your home.

You sit dumbfounded. What in the world was happening? No man has ever dared to even try treating you this way. Most were too afraid to even think of it. But Neteyam was bold enough to attempt it. And the worst part of it all….it was starting to work.

[matttgirlies]

Matt & Me🎀

1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24

a story heavily based on Priscilla Presley’s Book “Elvis & Me” based in the 1950’s - 1970’s.

fem! reader x singer! matt

disclaimer!! - in no way am i saying matt would ever support or do these kind of things, for the sake of the book certain unethical things do happen at times.

warnings - age gap,, sexual references

y/nn = your nickname for anyone confused🩷

Chapter 5

For the next two days I locked myself in my room, unable to eat, unable to sleep. Finally my mother said, “This isn’t going to help. Moping around here isn’t going to bring him back. He’s gone. He’ll be getting into his new life, and so should you.”

I forced myself to go to school and found myself swamped by photographers and reporters who were calling me “the girl he left behind” and barraging me with questions.

“How old are you, Miss y/ln?”

“I’m, uh—”

“Your records show you’re only in the ninth grade.”

“Well, ah, yes, that—”

“How long have you known Mr. Sturniolo?”

“About  . . . just a few months.”

“What is your relationship with him?”

“We’re  . . . just friends.”

“Has he called you since he returned?”

“No, but—”

“Did you know he’s seeing Madison Beer?”

“What?”

“Madison Beer.”

Suddenly feeling sick, I excused myself and left.

Each day there were calls from the United States, with offers of first-class round-trip tickets for me to appear on TV. I declined these as well as offers from top European magazines requesting interviews and photo sessions. Letters poured in from lonesome GIs all over the world. I had attracted their attention, perhaps as a soldier’s sweetheart. I also received letters from Matt’s fans, some friendly and some disheartened that maybe they had lost him.

Days passed into weeks and I became more and more resigned to the fact that Matt was now dating Madison Beer and had completely forgotten me. Twenty-one days after he left, the phone rang at three o’clock in the morning. I jumped out of bed, ran to answer it, and heard his wonderful voice.

“Hi, Baby. How’s my Little Girl?”

“Oh, Matt, I’m fine,” I said. “Only I miss you so. I thought you had forgotten me. Everyone was saying you would.”

“I told you I’d call, y/nn,” he assured me.

“I know, Matt, but there were photographers here and reporters and they kept asking me questions, and—oh, Matt, is it true you’re seeing Madison Beer?”

“Hold it. Hold it! Slow down,” he said, laughing. “No it’s not true that I’m seeing Madison Beer.”

“But they said you were.”

“Don’t believe everything you hear, Little Girl. You’ll find people trying to stir up trouble, just to make you upset. She’s a friend, Baby, just a friend. I’m appearing on her father’s show, and it was all set up for her to be here at my press conference when I returned to the States. I miss you, Baby. I think about you all the time.”

After that first phone call, I spent all my time writing and rewriting letters to him, but he never wrote back. Then one day he called, sounding very excited.

“I’m leaving for California in two days, Baby. I’m starting my first movie since the Army.”

All I could think about was whether he’d fall in love with his costar. As casually as I could, I asked, “Who’s your leading lady?”

Matt burst out laughing. “You don’t have to worry, Baby, I haven’t met her yet, but I hear she’s real tall. Her name’s Juliet Prowse. She’s a dancer and she’s engaged to Frank Sinatra.”

Relieved, I asked, “What’s the name of the film?”

“Wouldn’t you know it,” he answered, “G.I. Blues. I think it’ll be pretty good. I’m a little concerned that there are too many songs in it, but I think it’ll work out. It had better, or I’ll have a few choice words to say.”

A few weeks later Matt called again. His enthusiasm for G.I. Blues had turned to bitter disappointment.

“I just finished looping the goddamn picture,” he said dejectedly. “And I hate it. They have about twelve songs in it that aren’t worth a cat’s ass,” he said angrily, and then added, “I just had a meeting with Colonel William about it. I want half of them out. I feel like a goddamn idiot breaking into a song while I’m talking to some chick on a train.”

“Well, what’d the Colonel say?” I asked.

“Hell, what could he say? I’m locked into this thing. Already been paid,” he complained. “They seemed to think it’s wonderful. I’m goddamn miserable.”

“Maybe the next one will be better,” I said.

“Yeah, yeah,” he said, starting to calm down. “The Colonel’s requested better scripts. It’s just this is my first film since I’ve been back and it’s a joke.” There was a long pause as static filled the line. Finally Matt said, “I gotta go, y/nn, and I can barely hear you. I’ll call you soon, be good, I love you.”

I was living in a state of suspended life, waiting for Matt’s infrequent calls. There was never a pattern to them. He would phone out of the blue after three weeks—or three months. He always did most of the talking, chatting about his current film or his costar. Occasionally, he’d talk about Nicole, saying their relationship wasn’t what he had expected when he returned from the Army. He was no longer sure he wanted to be with her. I didn’t know where I stood. Time and distance had created doubts and questions; I wanted to ask him, “Where do I fit in your life? Or do I?”

Matt was still mentioning that he really wanted me to see Graceland, especially at Christmas, when it was its most beautiful. He said I’d meet Pauline, the maid. Matt called her Pauline VO5. He laughed and said, “I’ll tell her, ‘O Five, I’ve got a little girl I want you to meet.”

This gave me some hope of a future. I wanted to believe him when he said he still cared for me. But during the periods when I did not hear from him, I couldn’t help but doubt that I would ever see him again. I heard his latest hit record, “(Marie’s the Name) His Latest Flame,” and felt sure that he’d fallen in love with a girl named Marie.

That summer, Paul Anka was on a European tour. He was to make a guest appearance at a nearby Air Force facility in Wiesbaden. I slyly arranged for my mother to drop me off at the time specified for his arrival. My intentions, unknown to her, were highly contrived and they had to do, strictly, with Matt. I wanted to ask him if by chance he knew Matt and if Matt had ever mentioned me. But when he got out of his car he was surrounded by fans, and I was too shy to push through the crowd to speak to him.

I gleaned every bit of news about Matt that I could. I listened constantly to the overseas radio and scanned every article in The Stars and Stripes newspaper. But each story about Matt I read only upset me all the more. Besides Nicole, he seemed to be romantically linked with many beautiful young starlets in Hollywood—Tuesday Weld, Juliet Prowse, and Anne Helm, among others.

I wrote him: “I need you and want you in every way and, believe me, there’s no one else  . . . I wish to God I were with you now. I need you and all your love more than anything in this world.”

It was a cold, snowy day in March 1962, nearly two years since Matt had left Germany. In the late afternoon, I received a call from him. It had been months since we last spoke.

“I’d like to make arrangements for you to visit me in Los Angeles,” he said. “Do you think we can work it out?”

Stunned, I blurted, “What? I’m not sure. Oh God, I wasn’t expecting this. It’s going to take some time, some planning.”

I didn’t think my father could ever be persuaded to let me go. There were several phone calls with Matt trying to say all the right words to please my parents. I had separate talks with my mother, hoping she’d help me convince Dad.

Once again Matt met every one of Dad’s demands: that we wait until I was out of school for the summer, that Matt send me a first-class round-trip ticket, that he send my parents an exact itinerary of my daily activities for the two weeks I’d be in Los Angeles, that I be constantly chaperoned, and that I write my parents every day.

The next few months might as well have been years. I marked off each day on the calendar until we would be together.

Los Angeles

When the plane landed in Los Angeles, I found the terminal bustling with vacationing students. But I easily spotted Nate Doe, who was still working for Matt.

It was good to see Nate. His big smile and warm embrace were comforting. I loved hearing him tell me I looked great. I didn’t think I did. The last time Matt saw me, I had been fourteen years old and five pounds lighter. I was afraid that he might be disappointed when he saw me, that he might send me home the next day.

I got my first glimpse of Los Angeles when we drove in from the airport. It was beautiful, a far cry from the drabness of postwar Germany. As we passed the MGM studios in Culver City, Nate said, “That’s where Matt films most of his movies.” Soon we were speeding along the legendary Sunset Strip and through the large wrought-iron gates of Bel Air. I was entering a world I’d never experienced. Every home along the winding road seemed grander than the one before.

We turned in at Matt’s house on Bellagio Road, a large home modeled after an Italian villa. We were greeted by Matt’s butler, who introduced himself as Arnold and said, “Mr. S is in the den.” As we walked through the door, I could hear loud music playing and people laughing. Nate led me downstairs.

Before entering, I took a deep breath. The years of waiting were now over.

In the dim light I saw people lounging on a couch and others standing over a jukebox, selecting songs. Then I spotted Matt, dressed in dark trousers, a white shirt, and a black captain’s hat. He was leaning over a pool table, ready to make a shot. I wanted to run to him, but this roomful of people was not the setting I had dreamed of for our first meeting. I continued to stand there, watching him.

He looked up and saw me and after a slight pause his face lit with a smile. “There she is!” he shouted, throwing down his cue stick. “There’s y/n!”

He made his way over to me, picked me up in his arms, and kissed me. I held onto him for as long as I could—until he put me down. “It’s about time,” he said, joking. “Where have you been all my life?”

Aware that every eye in the room was on us, I was uncomfortable and embarrassed. I quickly wiped the tears from my face before anyone noticed. Matt took my hand and introduced me around, and then we sat down together.

“Baby, I’m so glad you’re here,” he kept saying. “I can’t wait to show you around. You’ve grown up. You look great. Let me look at you. Stand up.”

As his eyes surveyed me, I became increasingly self-conscious, and I didn’t want him looking too long. He might find flaws.

He looked terrific, although I was surprised to see that the brown hair he’d had in the Army was now dyed black. He looked thinner, happier.

“Don’t go away,” he said. He kissed me lovingly, then returned to the pool table to finish his game. The night seemed to go slowlytoo slowly. While Matt continued his game a few of the girls eased their way over to me and started talking. They said Matt threw parties almost every night.

Hearing this and watching him as the night progressed, I felt out of touch with his new life, even though the girls told me he talked about me often and even showed my pictures around.

Playing pool, Matt laughed and joked around, and when one of the girls bent over the table to attempt a shot, Matt poked her in the backside with his pool cue. She shrieked in surprise and everyone laughed,everyone except me. I couldn’t help noticing that there had been a slight change in Matt. He’d left Germany a gentle, sensitive, and insecure boy; through the course of the evening I’d see that he now was mischievous and self-confident to the point of cockiness.

He also seemed quick to anger. When a girl cautioned him to watch out for a glass that was perched precariously on the edge of the pool table, he shot her a dirty look, as if to tell her, “Move the glass yourself.”

I felt a surge of uneasiness. I was unsure of what to do or say. Between shots he’d come over and give me an affectionate kiss, ask if I was all right, and then move back for his next shot. Meanwhile, the curious stares of his female admirers never left me.

It was after 12:30 a.m. when Matt finally sat down next to me. Now it was like the old days in Germany: He was suggesting that we go to his bedroom. “Up the stairs, the first door to your right,” he said. “The lights are on. I’ll be right up.” I started to rise. “Wait a few minutes, until I get up and leave,” he said. “That way it won’t look so obvious.”

I wasn’t sure if I liked that. I knew he was protecting me, but there were so many pretty girls around, I wanted to make sure everyone knew he was mine—at least for as long as I was here. I’d waited too long to be discreet. I got up, stretched a little, and politely said good night to everyone, hoping they would know exactly where I was going.

I ran up the stairs and easily found Matt’s bedroom. How different it was from his ordinary-looking quarters in Germany. I never imagined him living in such luxury—thick carpets, exquisite furnishings—but the room had a welcoming, lived-in feeling.

And then my eyes fell on the king-size bed in the middle of the room. I immediately thought of how many women might have slept there  . . . whose bodies he had embraced. . . and even worse, whose lips had passionately pressed his and driven him to ecstasy. I couldn’t think about it anymore.

I walked over to the French doors, which overlooked the driveway, and saw Matt’s guests exchanging good nights as they got into their cars. Knowing he’d probably be coming up soon, I rushed into the large adjoining bathroom.

Within ten minutes, I had jumped in and out of the bathtub, combed my hair, brushed my teeth, and dusted my entire body with some powder I’d found in the medicine cabinet. I put on my favorite blue pajamas and stood motionless before the door leading to the bedroom. I was so apprehensive that I was unable to open the door. This was the moment I had both longed for and feared. I sat down on a chair and remembered that when I’d been fourteen, Matt had said that I was “too young.” Now that I was sixteen I tried to imagine just what this new Matt, who I hardly knew at all, might be expecting of me.

About fifteen minutes later, I heard him as he opened the bedroom door, yelling down to his cousin, Billy Smith, who also worked for him: “Don’t let me sleep later than three tomorrow, Billy.” Then I heard him close the door, lock it, and call out, “Where are you, Baby?”

“I’m in the bathroom,” I shouted. “I’ll be just a few more minutes.”

“Don’t take too long. I want to see my girl.”

I still couldn’t move.

He called again: “What are you doing in there, y/nn? No one takes this long to get ready for bed.”

It was the moment of truth: Taking a deep breath, I opened the door and walked out. Matt was lying on the bed, facing me. I walked slowly toward him, climbed into the bed, and lay down next to him. Our faces were only inches apart. It was such an unexpected moment of tenderness that I was mesmerised looking into his eyes. We lay there for what seemed like a long time, staring at each other until our eyes filled with tears.

Matt softly touched my face. “God,” he whispered. “You don’t know how much I’ve missed you. You’ve been an inspiration to me. Don’t ask me why, but I haven’t been able to put you out of my mind since I left you in Germany. It’s been the one thing that’s kept me going.”

I couldn’t hold back any longer: Tears streamed down my face. Matt took me in his arms and held me close, but I couldn’t get close enough. If I could have gotten inside him, I would have.

“It’s gonna be all right, Baby. I promise you. You’re here now and that’s all that matters. We’ll have a good time and not think about you going back.”

As we lay in the dim light, he soon discovered that I was still as untouched as he’d left me two years before. Relieved and pleased, he told me how much this meant to him. It was as if every feeling I had as a woman began to emerge, and I began kissing him passionately. I wanted him—I was ready to submit entirely to him. He returned my passion. Then, abruptly, he stopped.

“Wait a minute, Baby,” he said, speaking softly. “This can get out of hand.”

“Is there anything wrong?” I was fearful that I wasn’t pleasing him. He shook his head, kissed me again, then gently put my hand on him so I could feel for myself just how much he desired me, emotionally and physically. He pressed his body to mine and it felt wonderful.

“Matt, I want you.”

He put his finger to my lips and whispered, “Not yet, not now. We have a lot to look forward to. I’m not going to spoil you. I just want to keep you the way you are for now. There’ll be a right time and place, and when the moment comes, I’ll know it.”

Although confused, I wasn’t about to argue. He made it clear that this was what he wanted. He made it sound so romantic, and, in a strange way, it was something to look forward to—just as he had said.

Later that night he told me that I had to stay with friends of his, George and Shirley Barris. Although I protested, Matt said, “I don’t want to go back on my promise to your father. Besides, if he found out you were staying with me, he’d make you go right home.” It didn’t make any sense, but I got out of bed and Matt had Nate drive me over to the Barrises’ house, where I would spend the night. Reluctantly.

Later I found out through one of the wives whom I had befriended the reason for my spending that first night with George and Shirley. Apparently Nicole had been sent back to Boston the day before, and Matt was taking precautions to avoid any awkward situations for himself that might have resulted from late-night phone calls.

Excerpt from: "Elvis and Me" by Priscilla Beaulieu Presley. Scribd.

This material may be protected by copyright.

a/n - longer chapter to make up for the last shorter one🩷