#i dunno. i mean it's probably not really good but i tried and stuff so

[morganalatina21]

Too Sweet - OP81

When Lando tries to play matchmaker with his two friends, the negative response comes from someone he did not imagine

or

When Oscar wants to prove you wrong

warnings: English isn't my first language, not proofread, mentions of alcohol and weed, smut, unprotected sex, car sex. Smut have warning before it starts and after it ends! - MDNI!!!!

word count: around 2k

"What do you mean 'no'?" Lando looked at you as if you grown a second head. "Don't play nonchalant about this, that's his thing. I've heard you ramble about him before."

"Yep." You agreed, sipping your drink.

"So why the fuck not?" He crossed his arms. "You'd be bloody great together."

"Do you really think that, muppet?" You bit back, eyes still lifeless staring back at him. Lando nodded. "You don't understand man. I like him? Yes. Very much. So much is inebriating." You confessed, looking almost... tired?

"But I've come to the terms that we would never work." Your shoulders moved up and down. "We are so fucking different Lan, and you know that. He's like, kind and a ray of sunshine. I'm a mess, you should know this, I'm friends with you, that's telling."

"I'm gonna ignore this outrage statement because I'm on a bigger mission here." He continued, knowing you were deviating the conversation. "The fuck is that coming from?"

"When you like someone that much, you star to try and match your stuff with them." You shrugged, adjusting your hair on the mirror. "And as much as I want to, we just- don't. That's like you said, he is nonchalant, I'm way too chalant. He is so sweet, Im bitter. He is all composed and... I dunno... Like those fitness influencers who have insane wellness routines? You know. And I'm the entire opposite. He's sweet as a grape."

"Are you quoting Hozier's Too Sweet at me right now?" His green eyes looked at you in disbelief. "Are you for real?"

"Kinda."

"Okay I know you may be having doubts, but why not try? It's better than not try, right?"

"Okay now you're just quoting The Good Place at me." You mocked, hearing people bang on the door to the bathroom. "But you know that I'm way too down bad for him to just try and go along with it. I'm usually cool with this kinds of stuff, but... I know I'll just be delusional and want more with him."

"So make us both a favor and drop it, because I don't wanna have my heart broken, and you don't wanna hear me whining about it, sir Norris."

Oscar's eyes were trained on you the moment you left the bathroom with Lando at his house party. You and Lando knew each other since kids, and it was very obvious to everyone in that house, including him, that nothing would ever happen between the two of you.

You noticed his glance and just offered him a small smile before turning and starting a conversation with Max Fewtrell, yours and Lando's best friend.

"Thought you said that'd work." He commented when Lando came up to him. "I really shouldn't trust your matchmaking skills, remember the redhead you tried to hook me up with in Vegas?"

"Hey, she was hot! And liked koalas."

"She liked spiders."

"You grew up with both, mate, whatever." Oscar shooked his head with a smile on his face. "And she wants you, she's just worried you might not want her."

"What?"

"She didn't believe when I said you were down to meet her. She thinks I'm setting her up with someone who does not want her."

"Why would she think that? You did that before?"

"Not the case right now. She thinks that because she basically doesn't think she's good enough for you."

The softest "what" came out of Piastri's lips.

"Yeah, she even quoted Hozier at me."

"I... don't know what that means."

Later that day, when he was in bed, smeling a bit like alcohol and feeling his body light from the drinking, Lando's words came back to him. He was waiting to sober up more, although he was probably the most sober out of everyone in that party, including you, who at some point started trying to teach Pietra how to creepwalk, to which, you failed.

He kept watching you that night, from some distance, of course, to try and understand what you meant to Lando when you said "too different".

And to be honest, he kinda got that.

You weren't necessarily and extrovert, at least with those you didn't know, but with your friends, wow were you outgoing.

You and Max were doing shots at random moments of the night, a bet to see who would fall first. You'd drink whataver he drank, and he'd drink whatever you drank.

He smoked some weed, so you did too.

You took jello shots made purely out of the cheapest vodka you could find, so he did too.

Lando and Pietra were trying to keep up with the two of you, but it was in vain. You two were on fire.

And to be honest, Oscar liked that.

You probably didn't see it, but you were both bold, only on different aspects of life.

And he wanted to show you that.

So, phone in hand, he texted Lando, who was already on his own room, probably with some fling of his. The party had died down and only a few people were left, including you, who were downstairs probably playing truth or dare or never have I ever with the other survivors of the night, and him, who was in a guest room.

[What did u meant when you mentioned Hozier earlier?] seen 2:38a.m.

[she quoted his song to me]

[too sweet, look it up im busy] seen 2:40a.m.

[At least tell me the name of the song so i can search it, man] 2:40a.m.

[are youo actually stupid? the name of the song is TOO SWEET, im not compliemnting you mate.] seen 2:40a.m.

[i knew that] seen 2:41a.m.

[sure you did] seen 2:41 a.m.

Spotify open. He typed down those two words and sure enough, a song by an Irish man popped up. The beat was kinda animated, and he didn't though to bother searching up the internet to see what other thought of that song.

He took his own conclusion.

"If you can sit in a barrell, maybe I'll wait". In his slightly disturbed mind, that meant he still had a shot. He just needed to prove you two weren't so different.

And while drunk, he took an oath to do that.

.

For the 2024 season, Lando had hired you as his personal counselor, which was just an excuse for you to travel around the world with him.

The reason why? Oscar didn't knew, but he wasn't complaining.

That meant seeing you around the paddock a lot, even til the highest hours of the night after each race, post-debriefs and everything.

Today was one of those days.

It was after a session of FP1 and FP2 of the US Grand Prix, and the post-practice debrief had just ended, people moving around and starting to leave.

Oscar gathered his stuff and was ready to walk to his own car and leave.

That's when he spotted you.

On one of the halls from the McLaren hospitality, walking around in a jacket he did not recognize as any of the teams merch.

"Are you switching scuderias?" He asked, nodding the jacket direction, startling you.

You looked down, almost forgetting which clothes you were wearing. "Oh that's just from the next NASCAR winning team."

"You like NASCAR?"

"I was very frustrated when I realized Cars was about NASCAR and not F1, I might switch motorsports." You smiled.

"Good luck cheering for Joe Gibbs."

"Oh which one do you choose? Spire?"

"No, never. 23XI is way better."

You rolled your eyes at his statement, a small smile still on your lips, a huge one on his.

"I'll laugh to your face when Denny Hamlin ends Riley on track next cup, Piastri."

"It's on, Y/ln."

Two days later, after the Grand Prix, Oscar dropped the bomb on the interview.

"... Maybe we should just adopt NASCAR rules and end things on track." A knowing smile on his lips, looking at the camera.

He wanted you to know. He made sure of it, it wasn't just some comment, there was more.

"Mate, NASCAR rules? Are you insane?" Lando asked later, watching you perk up at that mention.

Oscar smiled and watched you, barely giving his teammate any recognition. You searched the internet, the key words you never thought would be put together: "Oscar Piastri + NASCAR".

And sure enough, there it was, the interview.

You looked up at him, slightly flabbergasted and changed your expression to a smile.

And God, did he love that smile.

.

"Disrespectfully, Fuck Papaya Rules."

Oscar phisically perked up when he heard that. He was strolling around the paddock and caught you talking with reserve McLaren driver, Pato O'Ward.

"Not only that's dumb, but honestly, fuck-ass name for a strategy."

He chuckled at that, hearing you from around the corner.

"Honestly I don't know if I'd follow that if I ever fill in for any of them." Pato admitted, shrugging. "I understand when it's for the Constructors Championship but Drivers? Fuck that."

"My favorite moment so far is when Oscar cut him right on the beginning, it was kind of a 'fuck your championship' moment, I live for that."

"Lando's gonna fire you if he hears you say that." Pato laughed. "Remember when you hit him because he didn't spray Oscar on the Hungary podium?"

"And I'd do it again."

"You hit Lando to defend me?" Oscar asked later that day, on the parking lot, as you were waiting for your friend.

You looked up at him and his smug smile.

That actually caught you unexpected. Oscar was coy, you knew that, but he was getting progressively bolder and more challenging.

It messed with your brain.

"You eavesdropping?"

"I just like to hear when people talk about me." He admitted. "Don't you?"

"No. I hate knowing what people think of me."

Oscar chuckled. That was kind of perfect, because he wasn't good with words.

"I promise I won't tell you what I think of you if I can give you a ride back to the hotel."

That was the main difference between you and Oscar: you were provocative, alluring, liked to get under people's skin, while he was straightforward, deadpan and liked to see people's reaction to brutal honesty.

"Sure."

.

It was the last race of a triple header, Brasil.

Five DNFs, the race and the quali delayed so many times, it was exhausting. Oscar finished P8, which, yes, was a bad position, but he was glad he at least finished the race, unlike five other drivers.

He was so tired, and it showed on his face.

No one even dared ask him or Lando how they were feeling because it was obvious, so he pratically slipped away from the mechanics and engineers.

And he found you. Sitting on the floor, back to the wall that separated his and Lando's driver room, texting rapidly.

He wanted so bad to have you to him, to talk to you before media duties, to have you on his driver room alone. But he and Lando weren't exactly on the best terms, so he couldn't just snatch away his friend.

Or couldn't he?

"Lando's gonna be late." He said, snatching your attention immediately. "If you want to come in."

"Yeah, in a sec." You went back to typing right away.

"You texting someone?" You nodded but answered back:

"Since when do you care?"

"I don't know, I just want your attention." There it was again, the honesty. "I mean, the person you might be texting can be cool and all but, do they drive at 300km/h for McLaren?"

You stopped, looking up at him, almost not believing those words actually came out of his mouth.

"He doesn't..." He smiled. "He actually drives for Mercedes and is a 7 time world champion."

"You're texting Lewis?" Oscar asked softly, smile vanishing. "Isn't he too old for you?"

"First of all, Lewis Hamilton could never be 'too old'. And second, It's not like you're thinking." You pushed yourself up, entering his room. "I'm just congratulating him on the Senna homage and asking what he wants to get me tickets for the next Kendrick Lamar concert."

"I don't know how many times I can offer to babysit Roscoe."

Oscar closed the door behind him, a sigh of relief leaving his lips.

He launched himself on the nearest armchair he could find and groaned, feeling his body ache, trying to stop the shakes on his body from being wet with the cold wind.

"Are you okay?" Y/n asked, voice dripping with concern.

"Yeah. My back's killing me, and I think I'm going to have a cold."

"Take a hot shower, I'll grab you some medicine." She instantly put the phone down, marching towards the door, but was interrupted when Oscar held her wrist.

"Stay." The word came out murmured, a gentle plea, his eyes closed. "Please."

It was weird seeing him like that, so vulnerable, so desirous, it made your heart fumble when he opened those soft brown eyes. So you nodded.

"But you're gonna lie down and get warm. I don't want you sick."

He obliged, draggin himself -and you on the processes, because he couldn't let go of you- towards the improvised bed he had on his driver room.

"But what if-" Oscar began, starting to lie down. "I get sick so I can escape from the media duties?"

"Can you do that?"

"It's worth a shot."

You smiled, pulling a chair to be close to him still, to which he thanked with a smile.

Surely after, Oscar fell asleep. You know it wasn't ideal, but you stood by and watched him peacfully sleeping. He was so soft, so cat-like, so pretty.

Your heart ached with how much you liked him.

And maybe, even though he didn't knew, he was showing you how you two could be a match.

When he woke up, half an hour later, you weren't there already, but he found the medicine you said he needed with a small note that said "You snore like a cat purrs (take care), Y/n."

He smiled ear to ear, almost all of the fatigue gone. He folded the note and tucked it in one of the pockets of his bag, leaving to the unfortunate meeting with the media.

Later that day, as Y/n was getting to her hotel room when she noticed something hanging from the doorknob.

It was a keychain in the shape of a cat, with a small note that read "To remember me".

Y/n rolled her eyes, but with a small smile on her face, that turned into a shock expression the moment she saw the things attached to it: two tickets for the Kendrick Lamar concert.

"Oscar Jack Piastri, you little devil."

.

"How was the concert?" Oscar asked, a knowing smile on his lips.

Y/n smiled widely. It has been a couple of months since Oscar Piastri started pursuing you; you ended up knowing what he was up to when Lando commented that he was determined.

And dear God, he was.

And it moved you.

You don't remember ever someone putting this much effort for you. That alone, warranted some points on his advantage.

"It was good, I actually ended up meeting Snoop Dogg also and we talked a lot about West Side." You rambled, watching his eyes get lost, trying to search his brain for any information about any of the words you just said. "I'm just messing with you. It really meant a lot to me so, thank you."

"Anytime."

"You need a ride to the hotel?" He offered. "Think Lando's not going back any time soon."

You looked back to the door for the party, the music still so loud, lights flashing in different colors and you could almos feel the smell of alcohol even from this distance.

Usually, you'd be inside going crazy too, celebrating that the team you work for had finally won the Constructor's Championship after so many years not knowing what that feels like.

But you were tired. So you took Oscar's offer.

His car smelt new, even though he had this car for quite some time now, his cologne, a strong woody scent mixed with the fresh odor of the seats.

"So, how does it feel, huh?" You asked right after he started driving. "Constructor's champions."

"It's amazing." He answered, and you could feel the tiredness and happiness from his tone. "It's exactly that, a reward for all the hard work."

"Driver's championship next?"

"For me I hope so."

"Next season's gonna be amazing." You smiled, hiding the sadness. "I mean, five rookies on the grid, Hamilton at Ferrari, hopefully Max's downfall?"

"May God hear you, Y/n."

"This sport was missing some emotion." Oscar stared at you from the side of his eyes as you entered the highway, which was completely desert due to high hours of the night. "I mean, to you guys there's always emotion but that's because you're driving, to us just watching cars go around and no overtakes, no fun business is kinda boring."

A mischiveous glint shone on Oscar's eyes as he pushed the throttle pedal further and further with each word you said.

"Osc, what are you doing?"

"Just thought you'd like a piece of the emotion like we have." He opened the windows, a huge smile on.

The adrenaline rushed through your muscles, eyes blown wide as the velocity increased, starting to grip the seat as you laughed. Oscar was so normal about it he was even driving with only one hand on the wheel.

"Fuck it, Imma act like a dog."

Oscar laughed genuinely as you loosened the seatbelt and propped your head out of the window, the wind forcing your skin and giving you goosebumps.

You could barely breathe but that was a whole part of the fun.

"Oh my God this is amazing!"

"Emotion enough for you?"

"God, how are you guys so normal after every race?" You asked, sitting back down, heart beating so fast inside your chest. "I'd feel like I'm on the top of the world, honestly."

The song on the radio pushed your pulse to quicken even more. You opted for keeping your head inside to talk to Oscar, but one hand was out, dancing with the wind.

"God, I'm gonna miss this."

"What?!"

Shit.

He wasn't supposed to hear that, not yet.

You sighed, putting a hand on high thigh, feeling him tense up. "You can slow down now." He did, eyes constantly darting back to your hand, touching him. "The reason I was flying around with Lando and the team was because he wanted to give me new opportunities. And I got one in Italy, as a fashion designer. This is my last night working for McLaren."

Oscar couldn't believe what he was hearing, all his effort, all that he was dreaming for, to have you by his side every race just like this season but this time, as his partner.

He kind of thanked you for telling him to slow down, because his head was spinning.

"Italy is close to Monaco, no?"

"It's in Milan, a three hour drive." You answered, lightly caressing his thigh. "Lando already knew of that possibility, no one was supposed to get attached to me. I'm sorry, Osc."

He parked the car in front of the hotel, both hands now on the wheel as he was trying to calm down and grasp the reality of everything going on.

You were leaving.

He felt your hand lifting up from his pants and immediately grabbed it.

"I'm not giving you up."

"Osc-" "No."

"I didn't come this far just to lose you, not now."

"You're not losing me." He looked at you. "I'll just- I'll be in the country next door." You smiled tightly. "But it's okay if you don't want someone who can't accompany you, I get it."

"You'd wait for me?"

"What?"

Oscar blinked, his grip on your hand tightening, eyes intense as if he was begging.

"Wait for me, to be back from the races, wait for the breaks?"

"Osc that's thing long relationships go through, we don't know if it'd work and-"

He held your face. Gently, sweet, almost too sweet.

"We have until March. I want to try. I could never ask you to give up on something you want so bad, so that's why I'm asking you to not give up on us."

Us. That knocked all the air from your lungs.

"I can see it in your face. You want this just as badly as I do." Oscar's voice was low, sending shivers down your spine with the way he talked. "I already showed you how much of a match we can be, let me show you we can make this work."

You shouldn't, you really really shouldn't. If it all went south you didn't know if you could recover from him.

But it was hard to think when he was this close.

So you made a decision.

Even if it slipped away, it'd have claw marks from you. You were ready to try and keep him in your life with all your strength.

So you launched yourself forward, capturing his lips.

SMUT AHEAD - YOU'VE BEEN WARNED

His kiss was desperate, hands full on launching themselves at your body and holding you tight, as if you'd start to slip away right this moment.

"Osc! On the car?" You laughed, breaking the kiss, to which he immediately bent his head down to kiss your neck.

"Just this once." He was almost begging, trying to get you free from the seatbelt and into his lap. "I've wanted you for so long, love, please."

Too sweet? No, just the right amount.

You clicked your seatbelt and pushed it away, hopping onto his seat, back meeting the steering wheel, chest to chest, knees barely on the seat from how big his legs were.

The impression was that Oscar was ravenous, like a hungry man, devouring every inch of your skin he could, levaing behind a trace of his saliva and maybe some hickies, but neither of you cared.

His breathing was uneven, hands roaming your body like it was the curves of a circuit he needed to remember and dominate.

"Osc-" You hummed, feeling his hard-on pressing against you, dry humping it, pulling moans from both of you. "Fuck!"

"Didn't peg you as a tits guy." You laughed upon noticing both his hands lodged around your boobs, guiding you through them to ride his erection.

"I'm a Y/n guy, everything about you drives me insane." He confessed, moving his right hand to your ass, moving your body around his lap, feeling your thighs shake against his hips. "Love, please."

Your hands traveled down his chest, nails grazing his skin on top of the formal suit he had on. He looked like a prince, even though he was ready to fuck you like a soldier. Finally, your hands worked fast to take his belt off and open his pants.

His cock, finally freed from his underwear, was so hard already and leaking with pre-cum. You smeared it around as started playing with his tip, feeling his hips buck upwards.

You were looking at his face atently, seeing his expressions falter at your touch.

Oscar's eyes found your and they were dark like never before.

"You're such a fucking tease." He complained, stirring around, trying to feel more of your touch.

"Someone has to take the lead, huh?"

A spark flew past his eyes, hand moving up and grabbing a fistful of your hair, yanking it harshly.

"Osc!" You whined, head thrown back as his grip didn't loosen even slightly, sending a heat wave down your body, allodging itself in your pulsating core.

"Someone has to take the lead, right love?" He snapped back, a huge smile on his face as he watched you shake. "Enough with the teasing, pull your panties to the side and sink on my dick."

Fumbling with your hands, you found the slit of your dress and tucked your hand inside, founding the laced fabric that was already drenched, pulling it to the side.

Oscar helped you lodge on top of him, lining up your entrance and his lenght, one hand still holding you tightly by the hair and the other moving your ass around.

"Fuck, love!" He moaned as you started sitting on him, caressing your head, making you shiver and tighten even more. "When you feel it all inside you, you can take the lead back, m'kay?"

Your lips met each other's, drinking the moans away.

The further you sank on him, the more he sank on the driver's seat, feeling all the tension leave his body, finally feeling your insides.

Fully inside, he let go of your hair as he promised and allodged both hands on your hips, gripping you bot not forcing you to move.

"Think you're gonna last?" You asked, opening the buttons to his shirt, positioning both hans on each side of his chest.

He opened his eyes, the dark hungry was still there, much softer now, he looked drunk and so languidly happy. "We can leave the torture for the next times, can't we love?"

You wanted to tease him, and say maybe, that now the lead was back to your hands, you were going to make him last painfully, but you felt the tight knot on your low womb, and knew even you weren't going to last.

"Okay, Osc."

And you started to ride him, watching him give in and just become a moaning mess, still holding tight to your waist but completely gone.

"Fuck, love, you're- you're too good!"

You also didn't thought Oscar was going to be so talkative during sex, given his nonchalant ways, but when given pleasure he turned into a bubbling mess, talking nonsense.

"So good, so worth the wait." He mumbled, pulling you closer and moaning in your lips as you two kissed again. "You ride me so well." He kept going, as you started kissing his neck, wanting to hear more. "Don't stop, please don't stop, love."

His hands restored to gripping your waist and travelling up sometimes to carress your tits on top of your dress.

"You should be wearing less clothes, love, you're so pretty." He complained. "Are you close?"

"Mhmm."

"So am I. Cum with me, love." He groaned, voice too raw for his own good, messing around with your head. "Come on, baby." His hips started snapping up, meeting you halfway your ride.

A strained whine left your lips, hugging his shoulders and propping your head on your arms, launching your moans directly into his ear, pushing him further down his high.

"I'm- I'm gonna-"

Both your bodies started to shake and his big arms hugged you, pulling you closer, locking you in him as his cum spurted inside you, your knot finally snapping.

"You okay?" He asked a few moments later, feeling you go limp on top of him. "Still with me?"

"Shut it, Osc."

"Yeah, you're back."

You laughed, hugging him one last time before pulling up from him, immediately putting your panties back in place and returning to the passanger's seat as he zipped his pants back on.

He turned on the AC to clear the windows that became foggy from the heat irradiating from both of you.

You fixed your hair as much as you could, knowing it'd probably be ruined again when you went up to his hotel room. He offered you his blazer, to which you happily took and let it engulf you, hiding the hickied left on your neck.

He went around the car to open your door for you, helping you on your feet as he noticed your legs still shaking. He had that smug smile you got used to on the beggining of your flirting and it made you want to kiss him stupid.

"You think your plan of convincing me we're a match was 100% successfull?" You asked, crossing the hotel lobby still holding his arm, heading toward the elevator.

He leaned into you, voice just above a whisper, only for you to hear. "My cum is leaking out your pussy, you tell me."

You suffocated a smile, desperately pressing the button for the elevator.

SMUT ENDS HERE- WELCOME BACK!

.

"Okay so, I need to know." Lando asked, it was the day after the celebration, you were sharing a breakfast on the McLaren private jet with the rest of the crew.

You were sitting beside Oscar, Lando in front of you two, a little hungover but still curious.

"We're not telling you anything."

"You owe me this, I had to sit through one hour meeting with the pr team about not fucking in cars in the parking lot."

You choked a laugh, tecnically your contract with Lando was over, and you weren't a part of the McLaren anymore, so you got to sleep while Oscar and Lando had to be awake for a very stern lecture.

"Honestly, if you keep doing shit like this I'm gonna make you two pay for my therapy."

"Bill me, mate." Oscar snapped back, a huge smile on his face as he took one sip of a milk glass.

"Fuck you!" Lando answered immediately, shock written all over his face. "Honestly, I should've never put you two together."

"You didn't do shit." You retorted, throwing Lando even further down the insane hill.

He started to ramble about how he was the first matchmaker, how he handled you two talking about each other to him and it almost drove him insane, while you and Oscar just smiled.

You layed your head on Oscar's shoulder, sighing.

He was sweet, but never too sweet for you.

You breathed in his scent, a sharp woody masculine perfume that mixed perfectly with your sweet one. Exactly how you two were supposed to be, boldness in sweetness and sweetness in boldness, completing each other.

And whatever was going to happen to the both of you, you'd fight it, like he fought for you.

april 6th, 2025

Reblogs and feedback are appreciated! ♡

[oliwrites]

Eavesdrop

relationship: loki x fem!reader

genre: smut

summary: loki cant help but overhear your conversation with natasha

warnings: smut (18+) unprotected piv, fingering, thigh riding, squirting, soft dom loki??, multiple orgasms, loki being nosy

“I dunno, Nat… I love him to death, I really do… it’s just…” You say as you run your fingers through your hair. You didn’t like the idea of talking ‘bad’ about Loki behind his back, but this is the only way to get the emotions and thoughts off your chest.

“What is it? Stop beating around the bush! C’mon, I’m good at keeping secrets” Natasha replied, sipping on her beer.

“It’s kind of TMI but—”

“Oh please, TMI is nothing in this friendship and you know it, just spit it out!”

“Well… when Loki and I get… y’know… everything starts out great, but he just gets all soft and vanilla-y and I just wanna—” You start to explain, but stop when what you really want to say gets caught in the back of your throat.

What you and Natasha didn’t know is that Loki had walked out of the bedroom. His ears perked when he heard you say his name, so he walked towards Natasha’s room and listened in.

“Go on…” Natasha said

“Well… when we get frisky… he gets all soft and shit… like all mushy and gushy. Don’t get me wrong, I love it when he’s sweet to me… but I really just wanna be fucked. Not ‘made love to’ but ‘fucked so hard I can’t walk’ y’know?” I explain, a feeling of guilt washing over me as I finally say it.

“Have you tried bringing it up to him?”

“No… I want to, but I just don’t know how or when”

Loki frowned. Was he really boring you that much? You seemed pretty into it when the two of you were in action.

“I mean, when Bruce and I first started out, he was all mushy and stuff, all up until I sat him down in his bedroom and just told him how I felt. Ever since he’s pretty much been Hulk smashing me,” Natasha explained. I roll my eyes at her ‘Hulk smash’ comment

“What if I hurt his feelings?”

“He literally terrorized the city of New York and Stüggart, killed 80 people in 2 days, almost killed the entirety of the Frost Giant race, and faked his death 2 times. I don’t think he’ll be offended. Honestly, he might be more offended if you don’t tell him,” Natasha explained.

“But—”

“No buts, you’re literally the love of his life, and he would probably do anything to make you happy. Just trust me, babe, Loki isn’t going to be offended or mad, just communicate,” Natasha cut you off

Loki agreed silently. Natasha was right. He wasn’t offended or upset. He would climb the highest mountains and cut through every forest just go make you happy, if you asked. He decided to gather a plan, and he walked back into his room.

“You’re right. Thank you, Nat,” I smile and start to stand up, grabbing my beer bottle, and taking another drink of it, “I’m gonna go talk to him about it,” you smile, trying to ignore the anxiety bubbling within your stomach.

“I would say tell me how it goes, but I’m sure I’ll be able to tell if you have a limp tomorrow or not,” Nat snorted, you flipped her off playfully and started to walk out of the room.

When you entered the hallway, you heard your phone buzz. You took it out of your pocket and saw a text from Loki.

Loki: come visit me if you can, my little dove

You smile at his text. The nickname “little dove” always made your heart flutter. You pocket your phone and walk towards Loki’s room. You don’t even bother knocking, considering he was expecting you.

What you weren’t expecting was Loki to practically jump you the second you walked in.

He closed the door and pressed you firmly against it, kissing you hungrily as he groped your breasts without care. It took you by surprise, but you quickly melted into the kiss, kissing him back just as roughly.

Your guys’ tongue and teeth clashed together as he guided you to his bed, pushing you down onto it, before removing his shirt, and hastily removing your sweatpants and tossing them to the side. Before he flipped you over, setting you on his thigh

“Ride me.�� He commanded, leaving no room for discussion. You blush and move your hand to the string of his sweatpants, “Not there,” he said simply.

You blush before experimentally rubbing your panty-clad cunt against his thigh. You let out a shaky moan at the new feeling. Loki growled before he started bouncing his leg. You let out a surprised, but aroused shriek, stopping the movement of your hips.

You let out another shriek when you felt his hand come down harshly on your ass.

“Did I say you could stop?” He asked in a serious tone. You shake your head no, “then keep going,” He said simply, before he started to bounce his leg again.

You continue to grind down on him as he bounce his leg. The feeling of cotton against your clit had you almost screaming as you continued to buck down against his thigh.

“Loki, I—” You started, before you cut yourself off with another moan.

“Soak me,” He said, grabbing your hips and pushing you down harder against his thigh.

Your whole body quivered as your eyes rolled to the back of your head. Your ears started to ring as you soaked his thigh completely, your juices squirting all over him.

He gave you no time to recover before he flipped you over and ripped your panties off and shoving two fingers inside of you, going at a rapid pace.

“Oh gods, Loki!” You screamed out, arching your back off the bed as his fingers drilled into you.

“You wanted to be fucked, hm? Oh I’ll make sure you can’t walk tomorrow…” He said huskily, before going down and attaching his lips to your clit, sucking it harshly.

His words did not process in your mind, instead you screamed out his name and tangled your fingers into his hair.

He curled his fingers at just the right spot and you came again, soaking his face, fingers, and the bedsheets below you as your arousal sprayed out of you once again.

Loki stood up and took off his sweatpants and boxer before flipping you over so your ass is in the air. Without warning he plunged into you, fucking you at a breakneck pace.

“Is this what you wanted, hm? You wanted to be fucked? Treated like a toy?” Loki growled, before slapping your ass harshly as he continued to drill into your abused hole.

“Yes! Fuck, Loki!” You screamed out, grinding back into his hips, meeting each of his thrusts. The words he said remained incoherent, as, lack for better words, he fucked your brains out.

He grabbed a handful of your hair and tugged it back, using it as leverage to fuck you even deeper. You gripped onto the bedsheets for dear life as he pummeled you with his cock.

He grunted as he felt his orgasm approaching, he reached forward, circling your clit at a rapid pace, causing you to scream out his name.

Your orgasm was approaching quickly as he fucked you swiftly. You tried to warn him, but were caught off by your orgasm as if ripped through your body.

You screamed out in sheer pleasure as you came on his cock. Your orgasm triggered his and he thrusted as deep as he could, spilling his seed deep inside of your quim.

He laid down next to you and looked at you with pure love in his eyes. You adjusted and laid down as well, looking at him.

“I actually wanted to talk—” You started, before being cut off by Loki

“You wanted to be fucked, not made love to… I overheard you and the Black Widow talking,” Loki said with a smile, “I hope I was able to fulfill your dreams,”

“Mmm… maybe another round or so could really fulfill my dreams” You smirked before crawling on top of Loki, starting yet another round

~ The Next Morning ~

You woke up in Loki’s bed, with Loki still sleeping peacefully next to you. You smile and decide to get up and head out to the kitchen for coffee.

You walked down the hallway into the Avengers common area where Natasha sat, drinking her own coffee. Natasha laughed at your limp as you hobbled over to the kitchen

“Oh shut the fuck up”

—

hayyy sorry for not posting in foreverrrr but i got bombarded with school, work, and family issues, and i haven’t really had the time to write something (even something small) and i also have officially hit a good ‘ol writers block!! if you have any requests please lmk and i will write them!!!

[petriwriting]

It's always been you - JJ Maybank X Reader

Prompt: Always telling each other everything, sharing secrets and dreams late into the night, but suddenly their secrets become about each other and their feelings

The marsh was quiet. The air was warm and moist, blowing a gentle breeze through your hair. The water was buzzing with life, and the marsh creatures were all going about their habitual routines. You sighed you JJ finished his joint. He sat next to you with his feet hanging off the dock, yours were crossed with your hands in your lap as you turned to JJ, your long time best friend.

"How's that girl doing- what was her name again?" you asked. "Maya? or Melanie- No Melody!" you corrected yourself. JJ chuckled, fiddling with the roach in his fingers after he had blunted the embers away, the smoke trail ceasing. "Mel," he corrected you. "And she turned out to be a huge kook, not really my style." he shrugged half-heartedly. You knew each other so well that he could tell when you were scared, uncomfortable, or tired just with a glance, and you returned the favor by looking out for him. You could tell when he was anxious or too angry.

"A kook? working at the seafood shack?" you stated, rather than questioned. He shrugged again. "Said her parents wouldn't give her allowance money anymore." He explained. "I can't imagine having an allowance," you said honestly. You were Pogues, money wasn't in excessive abundance for the two of you the way it was for some.

"It seemed like she just wanted to piss off her parents by being seen with my anyway," he said somewhat sadly. "I'm not exactly boyfriend material," he joked. "I don't know what you mean," you said

JJ bit his lip and nodded slightly. "I dunno. doesn't matter," he dismissed. You looked out into the dark, murky water that was illuminated by the moonlight, watching the side slowly wax and wane. "Can I ask you something?" you said, not wanting to sound foolish.

"Shoot." he said, gently swinging his feet. you began slowly, hesitantly. "I kind of like this guy," you admitted, thankful the evening masked the flush on your cheeks. "It's so dumb. like major cheesy..." JJ smirked and looked at you. "Yeah?" he nodded, watching attentively as you spoke. "Yeah, so I'm wondering, from your perspective, is it weird if I ask him out?" you asked.

"No, I mean, sometimes guys like that stuff." JJ said cocking his head slightly.

"Do you?" the words slipped out. "I mean would you like it if a girl asked you out first." you tried to clarify, to deflect suspicion.

"If it was the right girl, then yeah," he said, very matter of fact.

You nodded. "Who are ya tryin' to ask out?" he followed up. You shook your head in dismissal. "No one, it was just a thought. You don't know him. we've been friends since like- kindergarten or something." you said, JJ seemed unconvinced. "well he'd be a lucky son of a bitch. No one can say no to you," he said.

You smiled slightly. "you really think so?" you asked softly.

"I know it." JJ insisted. He smiled slightly to himself, and for a brief moment, you guys matched, locking eyes, though you weren't sure if he meant it platonically, or if he thought you'd make a good girlfriend. You pushed the disheartened feeling away.

The two of you were always incredibly honest with each other. He had come to you on his worst days, and in return, he had seen you in pretty rough shape over the years. You just wanted him to be happy, and you were scared that falling in love with him would ruin that. You had no idea how he felt.

"Aaannnnd," he said in a somewhat goofy, exaggerated tone in an attempt to diffuse the slight tension. "Since we're giving each other advice, I also kind of need help with somethin' like this." You nodded, ready to hear about whatever attractive surfer girl he was probably pining over. "Well, I'm glad you came to me instead of John B this time," you snickered.

"Yeah, so um." JJ reached his hand up, running his fingers through his golden hair.

"There's this girl. . ." He began, gazing out at the water as he spoke. She is just amazing. She's really cute, and funny and sweet. She really understands me, like, I don't feel alone around her." he said, clutching his chest for a short moment. Your heart sank. you weren't quite following.

"I'm scared she only sees me as a friend, and that really hurts," he said, his tone shifting. "But I really like this girl. it's not the same as the other girls on the island. I want to see her laugh, smile, and cry. Thing is though," he says. "I think she deserves so much better than me, or anything I could ever give her."

The words hung in the air; you wanted to choke out a sob and go listen to songs about unrequited love, but you stayed. " . . . I think you should tell her all of that. Be honest." you said finally after a thoughtful pause. JJ nodded, maybe its the lingering high or something in the air. Suddenly, it hits you. It was always you. you are the girl. He was talking about you.

there you were, dancing across the line that needed to be crossed to venture from friends to lovers. "Jay," you said softly, leaning closer to him. "Can I kiss you?" he asked. you were shocked but smiled and nodded. "Yeah," you said.

Your lips collided, and you melted into the embrace, a moment you'd been dreaming of for so long, his soft lips grazing yours while your fingers found themselves combing through his soft hair. You pulled away after what felt like an eternity.

You pulled away, and JJ's body language relaxed again. "So is this Kindergarten guy of yours going to give me any problems?" he said, poking fun at your confession, somewhat seriousness in his tone.

You laughed and smacked his arm. "JJ, I was talking about you," you exclaimed with a light hearted laugh. "Oh yeah, okay, good." he nodded. "Had to be sure," he said in a sly tone. For another hour or two, you sat there and talked about things, the same way you had before, this time a special loving connection blossoming from the pre-existing friendship. You found yourself sleepy, resting your head on his shoulder, with his arm snaked around you.

Eventually, you found yourselves back to the house, where a comfy hammock overlooking the water awaited, not wanting to wake the rest of the house but still wanting some privacy. JJ offered you his hoodie, which swallowed you up as the two of you cuddled on the hommock, limbs entangled.

When the sun rose finally, It was early, and the house was quiet. Pope had wandered outside the house with some fishing gear. Having left the front door open while moving things, he saw the two figured in the hammock fast asleep and he froze. He quickly sat the fishing gear down, in rush searching for John B.

John B followed Pope back outside, and he chuckled. "you owe me $50." Pope said with a smirk. John B rolled his eyes. "fine." he said reaching for his wallet.

[rapunzelbro]

The Act of Stealing a Loved One |2| (Stanley Pines x Reader)

This chapter is a flashback. So are the others. Enjoy! It's super long lmao

Story Guide

It was the Summer of 1972 when you first met Stanford. You remember it almost all too well. You went to a college for the arts, majoring in music composition. Oh! And you were in a band! It was not good by any means, you all were figuring this out as you went but you were all having fun so it didn’t really matter to you. It’s kinda funny looking back on how the two of you somehow became a couple considering how different the two of you were.

You two only met after you accidentally stumbled in his room one night after you partied too hard at someone else's dorm. You thought his room was your friend's room. His dorm had books scattered around, posters of some scientists on the wall and an absolute mess of notes on his desk. Stanford did not want to spend his night with some random drunk girl in his dorm, but he knew he had to let you in, not trusting what any of the other men on the campus would do if they saw you like this. He didn’t know why you made him so flustered, maybe it was your vulnerable state, or just because you were a girl, talking to him.

It was probably both.

“You know, I never wanted to go to this, it was some promotional stuff for my band. Did I tell you I was in a band? We are amazing!” You were laying on the floor staring at the ceiling smiling goofily, flipping onto your stomach to look at the flustered man whose dorm you broke into. He took a glance over his shoulder to look at you, trying to tell you he was listening, even if you didnt care if he was or not. “Okay so that might be a lie, Gabs is super pitchy, Jamie is still figuring out the drums but that's besides the point..I met you by going to this!” you finally sat up running a hand through your hair “You're so dorky it's kinda cute” you let off a soft giggle pointing at him.

This made Stanford physically freeze, his breath hitching slightly “Thank you I suppose, Are your friends looking for you?” He quickly changed the subject, turning around in his chair, looking at you “I think, I dunno… I kinda wanna stay here with you” you smirked. “Well I-” he started before he heard a female voice yelling in the hallway “Y/N! We gotta go!” “Oh that's Gabs! She’s my friend!” You stumbled up before heading towards the door, pausing before going back over to the man kissing his check with a giggle, causing Stanford's face to turn bright red “Thank you for saving me! I’m Y/n by the way!” “Um… It's Stanford, Call me Ford..” he managed to get out, quickly writing the phone number to the telephone that was in his room, down on a piece of notebook paper. “Just.. Call me when you get to your dorm safe..” he quickly turned back to face his textbooks he had his nose buried in hours ago “Aw you care about me… Okay loverboy. Seeya around!” you poked his shoulder before leaving, yelling at your friend ‘Gabs’ to get her attention

Ford had no idea why he did that, he never had the balls to do this sort of thing. Especially with someone as beauti- No why the hell was he having these thoughts? You weren't going to call him. He has to forget about this encounter, he concluded, going back to his uneventful night.

He got a call the next day, it was you. There was some sort of music in the background, he couldn't place what it was, some pop music maybe. “Oh my gosh is this Ford? I kinda crashed at your dorm last night, I am sooo sorry I am super embarrassed.” you rambled on before Ford let off a slight chuckle “No it's fine. I’m glad you're safe, you seemed very out of it last night” he leaned back in his chair slightly as he spoke “Ugh don't get me started about the hangover” you groaned causing him to laugh.

After that was the beginning of a relationship, you spent your off time together, he helped you with classes and you expanded his music taste, well tried to at least.

It's been 4 months since you two started dating. Ford even told his brother about this, and to say Stanley was shocked was an understatement, he rushed over surprising Ford “So you finally found a girl who doesn’t run off screaming? Tell me all about her” Stanley smirked looking at his twin brother, noticing a photo of you on his desk in a frame, you had a microphone in your hand giving a peace sign to the camera with your other hand. How the hell did his brother score you? Ford went off to ramble about you, he was a love sick mess, but the way his eyes kept shifting to the photo of you when explaining you made Stan confused, why did he have to keep looking at it to talk about you?

He noticed a few flyers to some music festivals, they looked untouched. “Who gave you these?” he picked one up, the show was for tonight, in a few hours. “Oh Y/n did. She’s in a band” Ford looked at the flier before directing his attention back to the textbook that was in front of him “You plan on seeing her right?” Stan raised an eyebrow looking at his brother “Too busy, I have an exam tomorrow” Ford shrugged it off flipping to the next page in his book “You’re joking right? Have you been to any of her shows?” Stan narrowed his eyes in disapproval, Ford didn't say anything “Some boyfriend you are” He muttered looking down at the flier in his hands. He knew what he had to do, he wasn’t going to let Ford ruin the only potential relationship he would probably ever have.

Taglist: @bluepanda08 @slay-thou-pookie @karmaisacatluzi @fries11 @marvelous-maniac @cherryblom @leo4242564 @zuzzybakaemperiment

[suzukiblu]

WIP excerpt for Cheshire behind the cut; “Billy adopts Conner and it actually goes pretty good!” (( chrono || non-chrono ))

“. . . sure,” Lynn repeats, finally. Billy reflexively brightens. 

“Cool!” he says excitedly, linking his hands together behind his back to keep himself from the reflexive clap he almost went for. Probably the clap thing would be kinda dorky, to a teenager. Or just kinda loud to a baby; either/or. “Um–cool, yeah. Do you want help picking one out, or do you wanna do it by yourself? Or, um, try by yourself first, and me or Tawky can help if you have trouble? Or me and Tawky, if you want!” 

Lynn stares at him some more again. Billy probably seems incredibly uncool to a teenager and incredibly weird to a baby, though he doesn’t really know which one of those things Lynn is thinking right now. Like–it could be both, probably. Probably it could be both. 

Gods, how is he supposed to be a cool enough dad for his teenager while also not being too weird a dad for his baby? How’s he supposed to even do that? He’s gonna need his own books. Like, just so many parenting books and stuff. And also, like–he’s probably gonna have to do some trial and error stuff, probably? Like, that kind of thing, he guesses? 

Well . . . actually, Billy guesses it’s a little weird, but probably, like . . . books about kids with developmental delays or trauma would probably be able to tell him how to split that difference, right? Like, come to think? Like the parts where Lynn’s a teenager and the parts where he’s a newborn and the parts where he isn’t really either, probably. Billy’s second-least-shitty social worker had said some stuff about developmental delays and stuff like that a couple times, and then the guy’d tried to send him to a psychologist like he’d actually thought Billy was dumb enough to talk to a state psychologist about jack shit, and–

Maybe Billy should be getting books about kids with developmental delays or trauma, yeah. That’s maybe a thing he should do, yeah. 

He really needs to, like, start keeping a to-do list already. 

“. . . dunno,” Lynn says stiffly, glancing awkwardly towards the stacked-up piles of books. “Uh–there’s . . . a lot.” 

“Oh, yeah, kinda,” Billy says, then thinks–well, since Lynn hasn’t been talking that much, if he bothered mentioning that there were a lot of something . . . “Want me and Tawky to pick out a few that look good for bed, and then you can pick from those? So it’s not, like, so many all at once?” 

“. . . sure,” Lynn says. Billy doesn’t really know how to read Lynn all that well yet, but he does think the other maybe sounds a little relieved about that offer. Which, well, hopefully he is? Since that’s like, the whole reason Billy made the offer and all. 

“Cool!” he repeats cheerfully. “We can pick some out while you, like–brush your teeth and wash your face and stuff. Or take a shower? Um, I guess you did just get changed, but you could if you wanted. Or a bath, even! It’s like . . . evening-y and all. Or you could do it in the morning, whatever you wanna. But I don’t think we have bubble bath and it’s way better with bubble bath. But we could get some! Like, later, I mean. Um. Did I show you where the bathroom was yet? Well, um–bathrooms, I guess, I guess there’s two of ‘em.” 

There are two–the bigger one’s in the hall, and then a smaller one’s actually attached to the biggest bedroom, so Billy guesses that one’s kind of “his”, technically, but like, he doesn’t care if Lynn wants to use it too. Lynn’s a baby. Though also he’s like . . . a teenager, so yeah, he might care. Billy has definitely met some teenagers who really care about which bathroom they use. 

The idea of caring whose bathroom is whose is really weird to Billy, honestly, but also he’s not a teenager yet, so like . . . yeah, who knows. Teenagers are kinda just weird too, he’s pretty sure? That’s what everybody says, anyway, and he’s met some pretty weird ones himself, so yeah. 

Also–well. Billy hasn’t really been in a situation where it was up to him which bathroom was “his” or which bathroom he could use or anything like that in . . . a really long time, yeah. Or like–ever, really. His parents had a bathroom attached to their bedroom too, and there was like a “half-bath” on the first floor without a shower or tub or anything in it, and he’d just always used the one next to his bedroom with the– 

Billy feels–weird, suddenly, and stops thinking about . . . that. Stops thinking about . . . his old house, he means. His–parents’ house. 

He doesn’t usually . . . think about that, is all. So it’s–weird, thinking about it now. And like, he guesses it makes sense that he is, like how he’s thinking so much about his parents now that he’s a parent too, just . . . 

Just–it’s weird, thinking about it. 

That’s all. 

“I know where the bathrooms are,” Lynn says, which is admittedly pretty obvious. It’s a big apartment, but it’s not like a huge giant house or mansion or something; there’s only so much space. And Billy did show him the bedrooms earlier, at least, and at least where a couple things are, so . . . well, yeah, it’s pretty obvious. 

“Okay, cool,” Billy says. “Do you know how to get ready for bed or do you need a hand or anything?” 

“. . . I know how to get ready for bed,” Lynn says, staring blankly at him. 

“. . . do you want a hand or anything?” Billy offers, just because that phrasing wasn’t, like, an actual no. Lynn–frowns, briefly, and glances towards the wall. 

“Um,” he says. “. . . no.” 

“Okay!” Billy says cheerfully, and really can’t help brightening up again. “Then Tawky and I’ll pick out the books while you’re doing that, okay?” 

“. . . okay,” Lynn says, sparing him a long, blank look. Then he turns around abruptly and disappears back down the hall. Billy feels pretty good about the conversation, he thinks? Lynn told him he needed some stuff, and told him he didn’t need some stuff, and he told Lynn what he could do to help him with the stuff he needed help with, and Lynn said okay to him helping. 

And he’s just, like–he’s really proud, that Lynn feels okay enough to say “no” to him. Like, proud of Lynn for doing it to begin with, but also a little bit proud of himself for apparently doing an okay enough job at being a dad so far that Lynn thought it was safe to say “no” to him. 

Like–definitely he’s proud of that.

[mystarsohee]

fuzzy feeling (drabble)

genre: fluff, bestfriends to lovers hehe

nonidol!myungjae x f!reader

authors note: I'm just gonna type my brains away while listening to fuzzy feeling by grentperez and thinking of myungjae that freaking cutie pie... don't expect this to be good or anything..

you and myung jaehyun have been inseparable since elementary school. it was always you and myungjae, myungjae and you. the both of you did absolutely everything together, whether it was the movies, going to the mall, studying, etc. anyone who didn't know you personally would probably think you were dating him.

did he have feelings for you? absolutely he did.

would he ever do anything about it? thats a really good question.

you've known each other for how long now? and ever since the day myungjae met you, he knew he didn't want to leave your side. although, it took him a while to realize those feelings were romantic. I mean, every time you looked at him, he'd get those fuzzy feelings in his chest. is this what love is like? did myung jaehyun fall in love with you?

on the other hand, you were quite the oblivious one. it seemed everybody around you knew about his love, except the one it was directed towards. you don't have a clue about the butterflies he gets whenever you're together.

it got to a point, he couldn't handle it anymore. the two of you were sat on his couch, silently enjoying each other's company. it was a very spontaneous and unplanned confession.

"do you uh, wanna go on a date with me?" he said, suddenly.

you looked up at him, definitely confused. you two always went out together.. what did he mean?

"seriously. a date. like, ya'know, flowers and stuff.."

"what are you saying?" you were caught off-guard.

the both of you went back in forth, as he tried to convince you that he meant a true, genuine date.

"yes, i mean a date. i'll pick you up and we can go do whatever couples do, i mean, uh, what? ...yeah." oh he was so embarrassed.

you on the other hand, you didn't even think this was possible. of course at some point during your friendship, you fantasized about what it would be like if you were together for real. in fear you suppressed those feelings, and would take it to the grave.

"uh.. hello?" oh shit. he's still here. snap out of it.

"yes."

"i'll go on a date with you, myung jaehyun."

authors note ✍️:

HELLO HELLOOOO !!!! i dunno what caused me to suddenly write something... but.. whatever it was.. thank u🙏

i will probably make a part 2 to this, but i just wanted to get back into the feeling of writing fics again, because i miss ygs :c

no requests yet,,, i'm slowly easing into writing again! so like. if this drabble SUCKS. just.. ignore this ever happened!

also if anyone cares im seeing grentperez in april uhh yeah yippee woohoo!

[your-unfriendlyghost]

Transfem Soda, but Mrs. Curtis lived on, and she taught soda about doing makeup, shopping for good dresses, and other girly stuff!

  So I tried, but keep in mind I dunno how to do makeup, shop for dresses, and all that girly stuff lol. I just wrote what I kinda know abt it??

Will probably cross post this to Ao3 later, although it’s only abt 1.5k words which ain’t that many for me

-

  “It just don’t look right,” Soda says, squeezing her eyes shut miserably so she doesn’t have to face herself in the mirror. “It don’t look right at all.”

  Steve huffs. “Well, I’m sorry, but I dunno why ya thought I’d be any good at this!” he whines. 

  “You got real steady hands,” Soda mutters. Really, it’s because Steve’s the only one who knows her secret.

  Steve clicks his tongue and cards a hand through her hair gently. “But I ain’t so good at this, Soda, you know that.”

  Soda blinks an eye open. Steve’s standing next to her with her mom’s eyeliner pencil in hand, looking up at her.

  Ugh, up.

  God, she loves Steve, but sometimes being near him makes her hate her height all the more. She’s the girl in the relationship, she shouldn’t be so much…bigger than her boyfriend. She’d never tell Steve that, because he resents his own short height enough as is- but his height ain’t the problem. Her height is.

  Oh well. She’s slenderer than Steve, at least. Daintier. Narrower… She chances a glance at the mirror again, glumly. She’s slenderer than Steve, but in her baggy white t-shirt and jeans, she sure looks just as broad.

  She winces at the sight of the eyeliner. Steve did his best, but his best isn’t all that great. One of the little eyelash-lookin points sticks up towards her temple, while the other sticks down, pointing towards her cheekbone. Her massive stupid cheekbone. She looks like…she looks like a boy in makeup.

She groans and covers her eyes again.

  “Oh- Soda, c’mon, ya don’t look bad,” Steve says, softly prying her hands away from her face. 

  “I look ridiculous.”

  “Ya really don’t. You never do. I’d look ridiculous. You just look…greaser. Like uh…Sylvia.” Steve tries.

  Soda sighs, wrinkling her nose. She doesn’t wanna look like Sylvia. …She wants to look like Marilyn Monroe.

  Marilyn’s shoulders weren’t this…wide though.

  “I look like Darry,” she mutters, picturing the shoulder padding he used to wear for football.

  Steve scoffs loud at that one. “Oh sure, and I look like Clint Eastwood. Right. I forgot we were talkin’ crazy.”

  “I do!”

  “You look like your Ma, that’s who ya look like,” Steve says, rolling his eyes. “Just because I’m lousy at makeup don’t mean you ain’t pretty.”

  “You’re nice to me.”

  “No I ain’t. I’m honest to you,” Steve mutters, reaching up to tilt her face down towards him. “That’s different.”

  Soda smiles, and lets him pull her in for a kiss. 

  “God, of course you’re pretty, Sodapop,” he whispers into it. She hugs him tight, warmth washing over her in waves-

  “Hey, boys, I’m home- oh!”

  Soda leaps away from Steve, accidentally shoving him into the wall, and the bathroom door slams shut.

  “AIN’T YA EVER HEARD OF KNOCKING?!” Steve shrieks, face redder than Soda’s ever seen it. 

  “M-Mom?” Soda says weakly, heart plummeting.

  Steve leans against the wall, frantically sizing up the window as if trying to determine if he can fit through it to escape. He definitely can’t though.

  “She saw,” Soda whispers, raking her hand through her hair. “Shit shit shiiiit. She saw- hells bells, she saw!”

  Steve nods, eyes wide. His lips are stained red from Soda’s lipstick. Soda’s lipstick. As if she’s just a girl, one who owns lipstick- no, it’s Mom’s lipstick, Soda’s mother’s, because Soda’s such a boy- 

  She coulda spiralled then, but a knock sounds outside.

  “Are you boys decent?” Mom’s voice says gently.

  “D-decent,” Steve echoes, looking vaguely ill.

  Soda wants to melt into a puddle there and then. God, Steve’s probably mortified to be caught with her. She’d be mortified to be caught with her.

  The door creaks open, and Mom peeks in. Soda wants to hide her face, hide the mess of black eyeliner and ugly, uneven lashes, hide the smeared lipstick that’s smudged onto Steve’s tank top. Hide the awful way she’s dared to do this to her face, a face that’s so…so masculine. Christ, she can see a spot she missed while shaving in the mirror. You’d think that kinda stuff’d be hard to notice while panicking, but suddenly it’s all Soda can see.

  “I- I did this,” Steve croaks, moving in front of Soda. “D-don’t  be mad at her. Him. Don’t be mad at…him. It was…me,” he chokes out. “I forced…him.”

  Mom gently nudges Steve out of the way, and she tilts Soda’s head up.

  “Sodapop?” she says, wiping at the tears Soda didn’t realize she was crying. “Buddy? You okay, baby colt?”

  “Steve didn’t force me to do nothin’,” Soda blubbers. “Stevie didn’t.”

  “I know he didn’t, baby. I know he wouldn’t do anythin’ to hurt ya.”

  Steve makes a weak noise in the back of his throat, looking at Soda helplessly.

  “Is that my good Revlon lipstick?” Mom says, the ghost of a smile on her face.

  Soda shrugs, looking at the floor.

  “You know, when you were little ya used to love that one. I always caught ya playin’ with it…” Mom sighs, cleaning up the outer edges of Soda’s lips with her fingertip. “You never could stay in the lines though, huh?” she muses.

  Soda swallows. “Huh?”

  “Hey, I lived in San Francisco when I was your age, kid, you think I ain’t met any drag queens?” Mom smiles.

  Soda can’t believe what she’s hearing. “Drag…queens? You?”

  “I just wanna know…are you the transexual type or just the dress up sort?” Mom says.

  Soda glances at Steve, who seems to have suddenly decided the bathroom ceiling is really really interesting.

  “Uh…the type that’s just…permanently…uh…a…” Soda’s voice dies.

  “She’s my girl,” Steve whispers, so soft Soda nearly can’t hear him. He coughs and repeats it louder. “She’s my girl, Mrs. Curtis.”

  Mom chuckles. “That’s good. If you were the dress up sort I’d have to tell ya you had a long way to go before makin’ that stage makeup look good. But since you’re a girl, I can teach ya normal makeup real easy.”

  Soda’s heart flutters. “Y…you’d…you’d do that?”

  “Well, you’re my…daughter, ain’t ya?” Mom says, a little hesitantly.

  “I-I am?” Soda murmurs.

  Mom wraps her arms around Soda and pulls her close. “Of course you are, baby filly.”

- 

  The girl in the mirror is beautiful.

  God, it’s weird. Mom must be a miracle worker. Even the eyeliner points- “wings”, Mom called ‘em- are perfectly symmetrical. 

  “So what do we think?” Mom says, running the comb through Soda’s hair again.

  “It’s…wow,” Soda says. Boy, her eyelashes look so long! And her eyes are so big- it’s wild! And hell, in the blouse she and Mom picked out, even her shoulders don’t look so bulky. Sure they ain’t as dainty as Marilyn’s or anything, but then, Mom’s ain’t dainty as Marilyn’s either.

  “You almost ready?” Steve says, knocking on the bedroom window from outside.

  Mom glares at him. “Steven Randle, I thought you knew better than to peep at a lady while she’s changing!”

  “Mrs. Curtis!” Steve yelps, standing straight up and colliding his head into the window frame. “Lordy, ain’t nothin’ I ain’t seen before-”

  “No messing around with my daughter before marriage,” Mom scolds, and Soda stifles a laugh. Steve goes bright red.

  “That ain’t- no, I mean- your daughter wanders around the house in just a towel half the time, okay?!” he protests. Mom clicks her tongue.

  Soda grins and pokes her head out the window. “Hey Stevie, dig the eyeliner?”

  Steve’s eyes soften immediately, and he beams. “Glory, you’re the finest gal I’ve ever seen.”

  “And my makeup’s a whole lot nicer when Ma does it than when you do,” Soda teases.

  “Oh really. I wonder why,” Steve says flatly.

  “It looks nice though, don’t it?” Soda says giddily. She sure thinks so.

  “Yeah, it does,” Steve says, checking her out very unsubtly. “Man, how’d ya get the…uh…” Steve makes a motion near his chest.

  “That’s inappropriate,” Mom says.

  “Hey, it’s a valid question,” Steve defends.

  “Not a gentlemanly one though,” Mom grunts. Ever since she found out about Soda and Steve, she’s been twice as harsh on him. When Soda was a boy, Steve could roll around on the floor with her and wrestle, and they could flat out injure each other, and Mom thought it was no big deal, but now, Steve was supposed to be “gentlemanly”. Soda laughs at the thought.

  “It’s okay, Ma, what’dya expect from a tuff greaser?” Soda grins, grabbing Steve’s hand to help herself outside through the window.

  Mom sighs good naturedly. “Soda, you oughta take the front door if ya don’t wanna get all dirty, you know.”

  “Yeah, well, I’d have to walk past Dad, Darry, Pony, and Dallas for that.” Soda mutters. She ain’t so keen on them knowing just yet.

  “They’ll accept ya, baby.”

  “Just…not today, okay?” Soda says, hopping off the windowsill and into the grass with a soft thud.

  “Okay,” Mom says, smiling. “Have a good date, yeah?”

  Steve squeezes her hand. 

  Soda’s heart flutters. “I will,” she says. 

  “Have her back before midnight, Randle,” Mom adds, and he throws her a very un-Steve-like salute.

  “Will do, Mrs. Curtis.”

  “Love ya, Momma,” Soda says as Steve leads her to his car. 

  “Love ya, daughter,” Mom says.

-

  “Okay but seriously,” Steve says, later in the night, “how’d ya get the tits?”

  Soda smirks. “Undress me and find out, Stevie.”

  “Oh, yeah?” Steve says, getting a glint in his eyes.

  “Yeah.”

  “Tuff.”

[atleastpleasetelephone]

Little Darling

Chapter 2 - Love's in hiding

It's 1997, and Elvis is still alive and well. He quit music in 1972 after a successful world tour, and now he runs Presley Studios - teaching people karate across America. His daughter and grandchildren are regular visitors at Graceland, and when he’s in Memphis he likes to do a little teaching. His life is quieter now, though. Most of the Mafia have gone - going to live their own lives - and after his divorce from his second wife, Elvis is sworn off women for good. Will a Welsh girl with a wicked sense of humour be the one to make him break his promise to himself not to fall in love again?

Need to catch up? Go here.

Pairing: Old Man!Elvis x OC - Tegan, a Welsh girl he meets at karate.

Word count: 4.3K

TWs: Angst, body image issues, thigh riding.

A/N: Thanks all for the lovely comments on the last part. I'm planning on posting every other day so that I can make the Christmas part line up with Christmas... but we'll see!

“We need to make you look so good there’s no way he can say no.”

Maria is a woman on a mission. She’s standing with her hands on her hips, eyeliner pencil between her teeth, looking like she’s planning a military operation. When she’d heard from Tegan what had happened she’d been annoyed and her protective instincts had kicked in, suggesting not going to Graceland and even not going back to karate until Elvis left again. But that wasn’t what Tegan wanted, not really. So she switched to second best, which is making Elvis sorry he’d said he just wanted to be friends. This had led her to turn up bright and early at Tegan’s flat to make her shower, shave, bluff, pluck… and anything else that she could think of. Nails are painted and whilst they wait for them to dry she tries in vain to get her friend to wear anything on her face other than a little mascara. 

Tegan shakes her head. “I’m terrible with make-up. I’ll just get it everywhere and eat all my lipstick off.”

Maria sighs but eventually decides to let it go, knowing she’ll have a battle on her hands anyway when it comes to choosing a swimsuit. And when the other woman comes out wearing a frumpy-looking one piece she knows she was right. 

“You can’t go in that. Why don’t you wear a bikini?”

“Lisa said swimsuit.”

“I think you’re taking that a bit literally. I’m sure she just meant swimming costume generally. She definitely didn’t mean that ugly thing.”

Tegan grumbles, looking down at her swimming costume. She doesn’t think it looks that bad, but she’ll have to let Maria win on something. She already conceded the make-up thing, she’ll probably make the clothes her hill to die on. She goes back into her room and changes into a pink two piece, which does look better, though it’s a bit bright. She’s not sure what possessed her to buy it in the first place, really. 

“Oh that looks good. What about that?”

Tegan screws her face up. “I dunno, Mar. It’s a bit… garish.”

“You’re a bit garish,” Maria jokes, gesturing at Tegan’s extensive tattoos. 

“Hmmmm. I don’t have to go in the pool, you know. I can’t swim. Maybe I’ll just conveniently forget my swimming stuff.”

Maria shakes her head. “No. He’s going to know what he’s missing out on.” She gets up and bodily pushes Tegan back into her room again. “Why don’t you try the black one on?”

The black one seems like the best option, even though Tegan can’t quite get her head around the idea of stripping off to what she considers her underwear in public. She’s never been big on bikinis on the beach either. After some debate she decides on a long floral summer dress, and spends the next half an hour curling her hair. 

“I don’t know why I’m doing this. I have to put it up anyway.”

“No you don’t. You look good with your hair down.”

“But it’s hot. And you want me to go in the pool.”

“Why don’t you arrive with your hair down and then put it up if you want to get in the pool?” 

Tegan groans. “Okay. Fine. But it’s your fault if I get there looking like a sweaty mess.”

Maria just decides to take that, resisting the temptation to talk about the air conditioning in the car. Some things just aren’t worth it. 

When she’s finally ready Tegan makes herself a gin and tonic and waits for an hour before leaving, chatting with her friend and drumming her fingers on the table impatiently. Maria had suggested it was better to make Elvis wait and she’d agreed, but she's nervous and she doesn't want all this extra time to think in. Graceland seems like such a fabled place, almost the stuff of dreams, that she can't quite believe she's going there. 

Maria gives her a big hug goodbye and some encouraging words before she sets off. She offers again to go with her, but Tegan thinks she should go on her own, since she was the only one who was strictly speaking invited. She doesn’t love talking to strangers, but at least Lisa will be there. And Elvis. He did say he wanted to spend more time with her, even if it was as friends. 

***

Elvis spends most of the day pacing about the house and trying to find things to keep his hands busy. And then when guests start to arrive, he insists on answering the door himself, every time wondering if it will be Tegan. On more than one occasion Sonny tries to tell him that he can just look and see who it is on the CCTV, but he’s not listening. The house is getting full and she still hasn’t arrived. Why did he let Lisa invite her? Or, more to the point, why did he say he wanted to see her as a friend? He doesn’t want to see her as a friend, that’s bullshit and he knows it. He pinches the bridge of his nose as he stands in the living room, watching people mingle. A friend is all she can be. He’s been down this road before and it ended terribly. He can’t put himself through that again. 

When the doorbell goes at around 4pm, Elvis strides over to the door as usual and flings it open. He’s so used to it not being Tegan, that when he looks and it is her he almost doesn’t recognise her. That, and the fact that she looks completely different out of her karate gear. Her dark brown hair is streaked with grey and frames her face in a sea of loose curls, and her eyes somehow look especially green. His eyes dart over her face and then trail down her body, and he can’t help noticing how good her breasts look in the long summer dress she’s wearing. He clears his throat and quickly looks back up again, but not before he sees her painted toenails. Cute feet, he thinks. He’d noticed them during class, but she didn’t usually paint her nails. 

“Well hi here.”

Tegan smiles. It’s hard not to smile at him. “Hi yourself. Can I come in?”

Elvis gestures dramatically with one arm, making her laugh a little. She steps inside the house and lets him lead her around, his hand on her elbow. He immediately starts introducing her to people, a sea of names she has no hope of remembering. Then he takes her outside, where there are sun loungers and even more people. She looks around, feeling a little overwhelmed at the sheer number of strangers, as he sits down on a lounger, striking up conversation with a couple of guys near him. She stands there awkwardly for a minute, before realising he’s expecting her to find somewhere else to sit. 

She wanders to the nearest free one, looking around for Lisa and sitting down when she fails to see her. People nearby introduce themselves and make a little idle chit chat, and then go back to talking to one another. She feels like everyone knows each other, and she’s the odd one out. Lying back on the lounger with her sunglasses on, she wonders why on earth she didn’t bring Maria, who absolutely thrives in this sort of situation. That’s why they were such good friends. Tegan doesn’t think of herself as an introvert, exactly. But she feels awkward in situations like this, and Maria definitely doesn’t. She just didn't expect quite this many people. Sighing softly, she thinks about how she's misinterpreted him again somehow. Will she ever learn?

Elvis isn’t that interested in this conversation with Sonny and Joe but he felt like he had to do something to stop Tegan sitting with him. Although now that’s all he wants, stealing little glances at her lying on her lounger, basking in the sun. He might’ve thought of her as a little cute before, but in that dress her body is becoming a bit of a distraction. He needs to take his mind off it. 

“Hey Charlie, let’s start a pool game!” He calls over to his old friend. 

Charlie’s enthusiasm for following Elvis’ instructions hasn’t dimmed over time, much to his wife’s irritation. He immediately shouts “yes boss!” strips down to his trunks and grabs the nearest inflatable ball. Elvis continues with the instructions, telling people to get into teams and explaining the rules which he’s mostly just made up on the spot. The noise and general jostling of her lounger make Tegan open her eyes again and sit up, trying to work out what’s going on. One of the women nearby turns to her. 

“You wanna join? They’re playing some kind of ball game in the pool.”

She doesn’t. She doesn’t want to strip off in front of people and she also doesn’t really like swimming pool games, since she can’t swim. But then she thinks of Maria’s voice in her head, telling her she has to show Elvis what he’s missing out on. And how long it took for the two of them to agree on a bikini. She should probably try and show willing, and at least this seems easier than making small talk about other people’s small children. 

“Yeah, why not.”

There are so many people chaotically stumbling around, taking their clothes off, shouting and some even pushing each other into the pool that Tegan feels like she gets in fairly unnoticed. Elvis notices though. He has to make an effort to keep his mouth from falling open. She has the most tattoos of any woman he’s ever seen, and as she turns to fold her dress up and place it on the lounger, he notices she has the best ass he’s seen in a long time too. He watches her get into the pool slowly and carefully, standing at the shallower end. This is actually not less distracting than her being on the lounger at all. This is a lot more distracting. The only solution is to cause as much chaos as possible. 

“Alright, let’s go!” He shouts, and then absolute pandemonium breaks loose. 

There are people diving for the ball left, right and centre, people being tackled, pushed under the water and all the while they’re shouting for some kind of judgement from Elvis as if he’s an impartial referee. But he just keeps changing the rules. Tegan looks in disbelief as it all unfolds around her. A lot of the guys are the same sort of age as Elvis and not all of them look in as good health as he does, so it’s somewhat alarming to see them behaving in such an unhinged way over a beach ball. He continues to make arbitrary decisions on scores and yells at the top of his lungs whenever one side seems to be clearly winning against the other. Tegan has a strong urge to put her fingers in her ears. She had imagined a much more sedate affair when she’d heard the words Saturday afternoon barbeque. She knew that Elvis and his friends had a reputation of being loud and even a bit obnoxious when they were younger, pulling pranks and playing games, but she hadn’t thought they’d still be doing it in their sixties. When everyone starts to slow down due to obvious tiredness Elvis suggests a five minute break and Tegan breathes a sigh of relief.

“Why don’t you get in here, E?” Someone calls. 

“Nah. I’m good.”

Sonny shakes his head, deciding he’s had enough of being told what to do for one day and getting out of the pool. 

“You’re going in. Up to you whether you take your shirt off first.”

Tegan watches as the pair of them scrap, laughing and slipping around on the edge of the pool before Sonny jumps back in and pulls Elvis, fully-clothed, in with him. 

“Sonofabitch,” Elvis laughs, whipping his head round to get his wet hair out of his eyes. 

Tegan can’t help smiling to herself seeing him so wet. It seems like justice since he’d been one of the primary instigators of making so much noise. 

“That’s what you get for not joining in,” she mutters. 

Elvis spins around, finding her right behind him. “Oh. Is that so, Queenie? Ya don’t look too wet yerself.”

Before she can say anything in response he starts splashing her. She squeals and jumps up to sit on the side of the pool, wiping her face with both hands. Grateful she didn’t take Maria’s advice and put a full face of make-up on. 

“You’re going to ruin my hair,” she tells him as he stands between her legs, a hand on either side of her hips on the side of the pool. “It took ages, you know.”

“It still looks good,” he tells her, unable to help himself gazing into her eyes. 

“Well I’m sure it looks better than yours right now,” she replies, a teasing smile on her face. 

“What d’ya mean?” He demands, fake outrage in his voice as he pushes it back from his face and tries to style it into the way he used to wear it in the 50s. “Ya don’t like this?” He curls his lip into a sneer and she cracks up immediately. He looks like one of those impersonators she sees at the seaside when she goes home. A middle-aged man pretending to be something he’s not. 

“I love it,” she replies, still sniggering. 

His eyes trail over her body almost against his will and hers linger on the way his wet shirt is clinging to his torso. He breathes out a little sigh. She looks so damn good in this bikini, he thinks. He has to move before he does something he regrets.

“Right, that’s enough rest for you reprobates. Back ta the game!”

Tegan lets go of the breath she didn’t realise she was holding, and slides back down into the pool for another round of fight to the death over a beach ball. She looks over at him a few times, now playing as well as deciding all the rules, and feels a tingling start between her legs. He looks good all wet, she thinks. She breathes out hard and narrowly avoids being hit in the face by the ball, dodging to the side and then getting out of the pool. That’s enough watersports for one day. 

She pulls on her cover up and lies back down in the sun, wondering again what’s going on with Elvis. He had looked so close to kissing her, but then changed his mind and went back to the game. She just can’t figure him out, and eventually she gives up trying, unable to work it out with just pure logic. Instead she wonders when this so-called barbeque will actually start. She tries asking a few people but only gets vague responses. She’s getting really hungry, but it seems like everyone else is just content to drink and play pool games, and she still can’t find Lisa, though she’s afraid to venture too far into the house. Elvis is still avoiding her, so she starts to wonder exactly what she’s doing here at all. She decides maybe it’s time to leave. 

“Elvis.” She stands next to his lounger, her bag on her arm. 

“Yes, honey.”

“I’m gonna go. I um… yeah I think I should go.”

She sees his face start to screw up in confusion and then decides she can’t manage this conversation and turns on her heel, quickly striding through the outdoor area and into the house. 

Lisa sees her walking through the house with her bag on her shoulder, heading for the door, and runs to where her dad is still sitting, dumbfounded. “If you don’t go after her, I will. And there’s no telling what I’ll say.”

Elvis sighs and gets up, picking his way through the people and their possessions, all strewn about the place. 

“Tegan! Tegan! Wait!”

She’s right at the front door, and she knows she could just open it and leave. But there’s that pull again, that magnetism. It’s like she’s powerless to resist him. She turns around, reluctantly, and finds him much closer than she’d imagined. He puts a hand on either side of her shoulders, against the door, almost pinning her there. He’s panting a little from moving so quickly and she can feel his breath on her face.

“Don’t go, Queenie.”

His wet hair flops down into his face and his blue eyes stare deeply into hers. She feels like a tiny insect under a microscope, trapped beneath his gaze.

“I don’t know what’s going on, Elvis. I can’t take these mixed signals anymore and I… I just want to go home. Everything here is so… loud.”

As if to prove her point, there’s a loud bang from outside and then a cheer. 

Elvis carries on looking at her in that intense way, really wanting her to stay now.

“Okay, they are a little loud,” he concedes. “Sorry, honey. And I… I’m sorry ‘bout the other thing, too. But I don’t want ya t‘leave.”

His eyes flick down to her lips and then back to her eyes. He can’t help himself. The way her cover-up is sticking to her wet bikini top, making it see-through, is driving him crazy and all he wants to do is kiss her. And then run his fingertips all over her body.

He’s so close she can feel the heat radiating off him. There’s something in his eyes that makes her think he’s going to kiss her, and then when she looks back at him he does, soft lips pressing gently against hers. He pulls back, and before he can ask if that was okay, she’s tugging his head back down to crash their mouths together this time. Elvis Presley is kissing her in the doorway of Graceland. And he’s just as good a kisser as the girls’ annuals and gossip magazines when she was a teenager suggested he might be. His tongue explores her mouth patiently and gently whilst hers presses urgently deeper and deeper, her hand on the back of his neck pulling him in closer. She wants all of him. She wants this kiss to just go on forever. 

When they eventually pull apart, they stare at one another breathlessly for a minute and then both giggle, like teenagers. 

“C’mon. Yer not gonna leave now, are ya?” Elvis asks.

She smiles. “No, I guess not. Although I’m going to have to have some of this promised barbeque food soon, I’m starving.”

“Thought ya seemed a little hungry,” he teases, taking her hand and pulling her back outside. 

***

Elvis instructs someone or other to fire up the barbeque and manages to tear himself away from talking to everyone else to spend some time with Tegan. After actually being fed and drinking more than a few cocktails, Tegan and Lisa get to talking and by the time she looks around the party has really thinned out. She sees Elvis laying back on a lounger, surveying the mess and listening to the dying sounds of the party inside. She gets up and wanders towards him and he spreads his legs, patting the space between them. 

“C’mere.”

Despite the kissing and the cocktails, Tegan is still not about to sit right up against someone unless they specifically ask, so she settles somewhere near the bottom of the lounger. Elvis shakes his head and clicks his tongue, grabbing her hips and pulling her towards him so that she’s right between his legs, her back against his chest. It’s one of his old moves that he barely thinks twice about, although he really hasn’t tried it for a long time. It works though, she relaxes against him, smiling at the feeling of him wrapped around her, his arms around her waist. 

He kisses her temple. He’s missed touching a woman like this, but he can feel it all coming back to him like riding a bike. “Y’look so good, Tegan,” he murmurs in her ear. 

She giggles. “It’s Teh-gaan,” she teases. 

He squeezes her more tightly and exaggerates the Welsh pronunciation in her ear, his breath tickling her. “Teeeeehhhh-gaaaaan.”

She keeps giggling, trying to wriggle away from his tickling lips. “Stop it! Ha!”

He kisses underneath her ear and thinks of something. “Is it Welsh? What does it mean?”

She nods. “It means darling. Or, loved one. Or, literally, toy.”

Elvis’ eyes light up and he nuzzles her neck. “Little Tegan,” he murmurs. 

“Tegan bach,” she replies. 

“What?”

“That’s “little darling” in Welsh.”

“Say it again.”

She turns her head to look at him. “Tegan bach. You have to make a noise like a cat hissing. Chhhhhh.”

They both snigger, and Tegan thinks that this is her favourite way to be with him. When his face is all scrunched up with amusement and his eyes are shining. When he’s looking at her like she’s the only girl in the world.

“Tegan bach,” he tries, and it’s not a bad attempt. 

“Yeah. That’ll do.”

She lies back down again and he nuzzles into her neck again too. There’s something very comforting about it for both of them, and part of both of them wants to stay in this position forever. But that’s not practical. 

“I should go home,” she says, after a while. 

Elvis sighs. If he were much younger he’d definitely have asked her to stay. But she’s probably right about going home. 

“Can I drive you?”

“Yes please. I’ve had too many margaritas to do it myself.”

They walk towards the front door together, Tegan gathering her things on the way. Elvis tells Sonny what he plans to do, and that he’ll call when he gets there so someone can pick him up and take him back to Graceland. Luckily Sonny had decided not to drink, having the feeling he might be needed for some foolish task or other. He doesn’t like Elvis doing this kind of thing, although he’s bothered a lot less by fans than he used to be, it still seems like an unnecessary risk. On the other hand, he hasn’t shown this much interest in a woman for a long time. So Sonny just nods and says he’ll wait for the call. 

There aren’t many dedicated gate fans nowadays, and certainly not at this time of night, so no-one sees Elvis driving a woman out of Graceland in her car. As soon as they’re clear of the gates he pulls Tegan closer to him, his arm around her shoulders for most of the journey. She’s not sure that’s exactly safe, but she likes the way it feels so she doesn’t say anything. 

She lets him into her apartment so that he can use the phone, and once he’s got hold of Sonny he sits down in her armchair. 

“He’ll be fifteen or so. Why don’tcha c’mere?”

Once again, Tegan isn’t sure exactly what he means, and she thinks it’s a bit forward to just sit on his lap, so she walks towards him until she’s stood between his spread thighs. He shakes his head a little and with what she considers to be a surprising show of strength, picks her up with his hands on her waist and plonks her down so she’s sat straddling his thigh. She rests her hands lightly on his shoulders, trying to steady herself as she feels her heart beating out of her chest. 

“Can’t take my eyes off ya,” he tells her, his hands running all over her body. 

She blushes, then leans forward and captures his lips in another kiss. Smiling against her, his big hands run up her thigh, her back. 

“Can ya take this off?” He mumbles against her lips, pulling lightly at the sleeve of the cover-up. 

She nods and pulls it up and over her head, sitting there in just her bikini now. He can tell how much she likes kissing so he pulls her into another passionate one, feeling as she responds, her hands on the back of his neck, tongue exploring his mouth. She starts to rock her hips just a little, enjoying the feeling of rubbing herself against him. She loves the way his hands hold her, with just the right amount of pressure. One makes its way to her hip and starts to help manoeuvre her, dragging her against him. She breathes a little harder and presses her body against his, leaning her head on his shoulder. His fingers grip her hips as his other hand moves there too, rolling her pussy against his leg. He tries to listen for her reaction, but she’s so quiet he can’t tell if she’s getting anywhere. 

“Is it good, honey?”

Tegan breathes out a little sigh. “Yeah.”

He kisses her neck as he carries on moving her, bouncing his leg a little at the same time, listening as her breathing gets faster and louder and she lets out a tiny moan. 

“Relax, baby. Yer all tense.” 

He can feel her body, taut like a bow, like she’s straining for something. She is. It’s good, but it’s not getting her anywhere, and she can feel herself getting frustrated. Just then, there’s a bang at the door. Sonny. She jumps up and reaches for her cover-up, pulling it back over her head. 

“You better go.”

Elvis is stunned at how quickly she moved. And he can’t remember the last time he left a woman unsatisfied. 

“I uh… Sonny can wait y’know. If ya wanna finish.”

Tegan laughs. “Sonny’ll be waiting until the sun comes up at this rate.”

She sees Elvis’ reaction and immediately realises what she’s said, putting her hand over her face. “I didn’t mean… it’s not your fault. It’s me. I’m like this.”

Elvis shakes his head, getting up and putting his arms around her. God, he really wants to stay. If only he could. “Not your fault at all honey, I rushed it. I’ll take my time, next time.”

Tegan looks at him, raising an eyebrow. “Oh, next time, is it?”

“Mmmm.” He pulls her into another kiss and she feels dizzy. 

There’s another bang at the door. 

“You better go.”

“Mmmhmmm.” Elvis puts his lips to her ear again and murmurs, “think of me while ya finish, hm?”

Tegan grins, letting him kiss her goodbye and then watching as he walks down the stairs to the door. 

It wouldn’t be the first time, she thinks to herself.

***

Part 3

Taglist:

@vintagepresley @arg-xoxo @from-memphis-with-love @msamarican @blursedblegh @returntopresley @eapep @everythingelvispresley @i-r-i-n-a-a @sissylittlefeather @arrolyn1114 @jhoneybees @cattcb @polksaladava @lookingforrainbows @jkdaddy01 @ccab @epthedream69 @lustnhim @elvisslut @pomtherine @that-hotdog @ladelinee @angschrof @fairybloodsucker @deltafalax @makethemorning @elviswhore69 @ilovequeen978 @wildhorseinkansas @pocketfulofpresley @dkayfixates @iloveelvisss

[monsterswithimagines]

Undisclosed Desires - Epilogue

Joe Goldberg x female!Reader

Masterlist

New York during the spring is incredibly beautiful.

Really, I love it. There is no city like New York in the Netherlands, and I love how different it is, how different the people are.

I love walking around the city on my days off, and eating foods I've never tried before. I love walking into random stores and finding something I didn't know I needed. And I love the peace of mind. You probably don't believe this but compared to The Netherlands, where my family is, New York feels like an oasis.

Well, almost.

You have not killed anyone, Joe. Not since my mother. But somehow, that makes it all worse. I feel stuck, waiting. I am afraid of who your next victim might be. Sometimes, I am even afraid that it will be me.

But you act normal. Everything seems so… well, normal.

“Where is your mind today?” you ask me, and I smile at you and kiss you and we are normal. We are okay.

Most days, I try to pretend our trip to The Netherlands together did not happen.

Most days, I even succeed.

Maybe I'm crazy.

Love is supposed to make you feel a little crazy, right?

We are at your apartment. I slept over last night, because my apartment has roaches. Can you believe that? Fucking roaches. That wouldn’t happen in The Netherlands.

You pull me to you and I giggle when I end up in your lap.

“Seriously, what're you thinking about?”

“Hmmm.” I wiggle, and you are already hard. You want me all the time. It's like the only thing you think about is sex. “I dunno, Joe…”

I shriek and laugh when you lift me, drop me on your bed. Our clothes come off quickly and you enter me and you feel good inside me, you do. But your hands on me… they are killer's hands. They burn.

After we are done, your fingers trace shapes on my hip and it takes so much effort to stay relaxed.

But you kept your promise. A whole day alone in The Netherlands, and my grandparents are still alive. That means something, doesn't it? Maybe you are getting better.

Or maybe I'm just falling for the same mask you wore when we met.

Last night, I found your box.

I thought you might have something like it, somewhere. I didn't think it could scare me.

I know the worst of you, Joe. The idea of you keeping a box of my stuff is almost cute, compared to all of that. I wouldn't have gone through it but I thought it would be nothing surprising, just my things. Something we could laugh over when you came home from Mooney's. Something that would make you think: see? She finds her stuff in my apartment and she thinks it's funny. She loves me.

But some of the stuff in that box… it wasn't mine.

I turn over, press you back into the bed just as you're starting to get up and kiss you hard. Like I can't get enough. Like I want your hands on me.

“Someone's needy today,” you joke, but you like it. You want me needy for you. You want me never to get enough.

And I need to do exactly what you want. Be exactly who you want.

Another woman’s bra. Another woman's diary.

Guinevere Beck, the name on the inside of the cover said.

I put the box back and I didn't tell you I found it. You told me no more secrets and I went along with it. I guess I'm a liar.

I made a mistake coming back to New York with you, Joe. I believed you when you said you'd never hurt someone you love. I thought I could do it. Be with you. Trust that there would be no secrets.

I just didn't think about what would happen, to me, if you were to stop loving me.

I can't let that happen.

And if I can't keep your eyes on me? Well...

Then Guinevere Beck might need to go. Just like Mitch.

Only this time, I won't have you to do my dirty work.

[peachhcs]

please something with Sammy and will after tonight’s (Chicago’s) game! he looked way too good

ok i know umich women's soccer isn't doing the best this season and they lost their game last night, but let's just pretend for this tehehe. will looked fine affff in that intermission interview phew

au masterlist

samy’s phone buzzed in her hand while she helped hannah unlock their apartment door and shuffled in with their stuff. the brunette smiled seeing her boyfriend’s name flash across the screen knowing they probably just finished the game an hour ago.

“damn, is he ever not on time with those calls?” hannah teased when she saw her friend’s phone making the two giggle.

“he’s very consistent with calling every night,” samy hummed, dropping her bags by the counter for now so she could answer will’s call.

his face appeared a moment later, curls damp and face flushed probably from the shower. hannah quickly waved when samy propped her phone up on the counter, “hey will! about to go watch the highlights!” the duke sibling exclaimed before disappearing from the frame.

will chuckled. “hey hannah. hey,” he directed his focus back to samy, expression worn from the long day and the even longer night ahead as they headed to canada for tomorrow night’s game.

“hi, i haven’t watched the highlights yet. we just got back from my game as soon as you called,” samy smiled a bit, but it faded when she saw the blonde’s faded expression.

“ugh, you don’t have to even bother. we lost 4-2,” will rolled his eyes a bit, the defeat clear in his system still. so far, the season hadn’t really been off to a great start yet.

“aw, i’m sorry. how long were you on for?”

“i was on every period, but i dunno. bedard is fucking scary sometimes on the ice,” will huffed making samy giggle.

"yeah, you're right with that one. i mean at least you tried your best that's all that matters. i'm sure it will pick up. you're still getting used to it and everything. plus, these guys way faster and way different from college hockey," she offered her best advice to hopefully lift the hockey player's spirits. will did manage a smile.

"i know, i know. still hurts sometimes though. i can count how many games we've won on one hand," he held up his fingers.

"it will look up, i promise. i'm still proud of you, and i did catch your first intermission interview. you should see the comments under that video," the girl giggled referring to the all the other girls fan-girling over her boyfriend because of how good he looked between periods.

will's cheeks flushed in embarrassment, shaking his head a bit, "so are you saying you agree with them?"

"i mean, you did look pretty good. they have a point," samy grinned making her boyfriend deeply blush.

"i'll remember that then. too bad you aren't here to see it all in person," he teased back which had samy blushing as well.

if anything, samy was always right along with those girls making edits and thirsting over her boyfriend. she loved seeing the edits come in her for you page and more times than not, she was sending them to will so he could see himself.

"maybe next time when i don't have a game keeping me here."

"you guys won right?" will wondered and the brunette eagerly nodded. "i caught some of it during intermission. 7-1's pretty good."

"i know. we're super excited about the season. coach definitely thinks we're winning it all," samy chuckled.

"i mean, with you there it's pretty much in the bag," the boy's words brought another blush to her cheeks.

"you're just saying that," she rolled her eyes, but will just shrugged.

"i've already bought my tickets for the finals," the couple shared a smile with one another.

"bold move, but i appreciate it."

"hey will, we're packing up soon," a new voice entered the call and samy quickly recognized it as macklin.

the younger brunette stuck his head into the frame, waving. "hi samy."

"hi mack. i'll let you guys go. have a safe flight, text me when you land," samy blew a kiss to will through the screen.

"i will. i love you," he did the same back, ignoring macklin's snickering.

"i love you, too! bye mack," she waved to them before ending the call, excited to finally get into the shower to get all the dirt and sweat off her body.

"is this how gabe felt last year when you were always calling samy?" macklin teased while will threw his phone onto the bed to get the rest of his things together.

"oh shut up," he shoved the boy, sharing a laugh. "when you get a girlfriend, i'm not gonna leave you alone either."

[madelynhimegami]

Arle Nadja Guide

I've heard a couple people say that they feel like they don't really get a good feel for who Arle is. Dunno if this will change their minds any, but I hope it helps.

Arle Nadja is freewheeling and easy come, easy go girl.

She loves adventure and exploring. Especially when that prominantly involves dungeon crawling.

Helps that she's been doing it from age 4.

Arle is, in fact, so hooked on dungeon crawling that Ringo and Amitie had to actively prevent her from entering what she already knew was a trap made to look like a dungeon entrance.

In addition to the adventuring, Arle likes travel as a means to meet new people with different ways of living.

She's well aware that most of her friends (especially from her own world) are insane. But she loves them regardless.

Arle isn't materialistic. As long as she has a way to get her basic needs met, her interest in wealth is, at most, transient.

Similarly, she's not particularly interested in becoming powerful.

I think she still likes learning new stuff about magic, including new spells, but the power of the magic in question is inconsequential to her.

Arle acts and speaks very casually, regardless of where she is or who she's talking to. She doesn't really care for formality and dislikes being expected to act a certain way.

Consequently, she has no reason to really ever acknowledge or respect authority without them earning it.

She made fun of brick jesus and his decisions to his face (at least before learning she was dealing with a small child).

I feel like Arle tends to be pretty good at reading vibes of others. As in, she can generally tell if someone is dangerous, stupid, struggling, being forced to act a certain way, sincere, or manipulative.

If so, she doesn't use that skill very often, because she's encountered too many people she will never understand she prefers to live and let live.

Arle is always willing to lend a hand to those in need of one. In fact, she's not very good at refusing to help, if asked.

Arle doesn't plan ahead very much. She just goes with the flow of things and assume that it'll all end up working out for the better.

She's not particularly inclined to strategic thinking (though she is perfectly capable of it). Her preferred method of handling obstacles is to face them head-on.

Satan doing something stupid? Beat him up. Door blocking the way? Tear it off its hinges.

That said, Arle is quite flexible, able to work with rapidly-changing circumstances, plus she's good at imrovising solutions.

She also probably has plenty of survivalist skills. You don't survive 12+ years of dungeon crawling without having a good sense of knowing what will or won't kill you, and how to protect yourself from the latter.

(I hate that I have to say this, but that does include bathing. Not washing dungeon gunk off is how you get fun and exciting new diseases.)

Her spells reflect those priorities, as well. Most of her combat-oriented spells aren't for dealing direct damage, but for self-defense.

Even then, she's has a blasé attitude towards danger, and doesn't get threatened easily in the slightest.

This is a girl that got into multiple fights with an owlbear and won before she started kindergarten.

She's not reckless, however. She's very aware that she's not invincible or unstoppable, and has reliable risk assessment.

Tight situations where she's in more trouble than she was prepared for is where a lot of her improvisation skills shine.

Arle's really forgiving. She doesn't hold grudges or resentment, even if someone has reduced her to her last frazzled nerve.

Case in point, she became friends with a man that abducted her and subsequently tried to kill her. Despite his protests.

Her gregariousness tends to grow on people, making her pretty good at making friends (albeit not as good as Amitie).

However, her forgiving nature only extends to herself. Threaten or annoy her all you want, she'll let it slide. But if a friend of hers has a problem with you, so does Arle.

Arle has a very dry sense of humor. She can snark with the best of them.

She mostly employs sarcasm to tease her friends (mostly the ones from her world), but she'll use it in full force if something annoys her enough.

(These often overlap, especially when Satan's involved)

She also can and will verbally destroy you for your nonsense if pushed far enough.

While known to get annoyed, frustrated, or agitated, Arle very rarely (if ever) gets truly angry. I firmly believe attacking a friend with intent to seriously harm is one way to do it, however.

She tends to have more patience with anybody younger than her. Doubly so if she has reason to believe they're relying on her.

Arle is very stubborn. She dies hard and never gives up.

It also makes her strong-willed enough to resist possession. She's actually on the record for forcibly expelling Ecolo from her body by attacking herself.

Both the above tie into Arle's greatest fear: helplessness. She is terrified of being trapped in a situation where there is absolutely nothing she can do to affect it, even superficially.

Much like Ringo, I think Arle is, in theory, a perfectly capable cook. But unlike Ringo, where Arle goes off the deep end is her obsession with curry. She'd pretty much always prefer making that.

Although not a powerhouse, Arle isn't your typical squishy mage. She's fit and resilient enough to get by a lot of her situations. And she can throw a good punch if needed.

We don't see it very often anymore (which is a shame imo), but Arle is a capable staff wielder, and will use one as a magic focus if it's available.

I think Arle used to be more self-centered and interested in magic for her own gain, but changed after a certain incident while she was at magic school.

Because of the incident, she's decided that there is no knowledge, possession, or power that is more important than the lives of other people, especially those you care about.

That being said, she actually doesn't remember the incident very clearly.

Of note, even before this personal epiphany, Arle was against fighting lethally and made it a point to only leave those she fights unconscious. She's even begged her friends to not kill someone even if it would help her.

The epiphany is another reason why she's less materialistic, however.

Arle is a believer in the idea that it's the journey, not the destination, that matters. Several of her adventures end in disappointment or anti-climax, but she gets over it quickly.

No matter how an adventure ends, there's bound to be another one over the horizon.

Because of the above, and her aforementioned penchance for flexibility and adaptability, Arle doesn't let setbacks bother her. If she can stand back up, she can always keep going. And she will.

Although Arle isn't at all shy, she doesn't like to be made the center of attention or put on a pedastal. She's just a girl doing her thing, y'know? To her, that's not something she needs to be lauded for.

She's also doesn't really show signs of physical or romantic attraction of any kind. She can recognize a person as being handsome or beautiful, but only does so as a neutral descriptor.

Arle is the only one that can truly understand Carbuncle. She's fully fluent in gu, as well.

Somehow that lets her understand other mascot-like critters, on the rare occasions she comes across them.

[suzukiblu]

Thank-you sentences for u-h-h-g-h behind the cut; Billy adopts Conner and it actually goes pretty good! (( chrono || non-chrono ))

. . . wait, actually, is he gonna have to start reading biographies and historical stuff? He’s a dad now. The other dads are gonna expect him to know stuff about the Civil War and World War II and, like, lawnmowers and how to grill, aren’t they. His dad didn’t even grill, Mom did! Dad always got distracted by his book or something and let the hot dogs burn! 

Billy is not optimistic about his capacity to mow a lawn, though at least they’re in an apartment. Like–probably somebody handles that, right? That’s gotta be a thing, doesn’t it? 

. . . he should check with Batman about that, maybe. 

. . . . . . and also figure out what the wisdom of Solomon knows about how grilling works. 

Or, uh–work on the focus thing, maybe. Definitely the focus thing. It’s just–it all feels like so much, and Billy doesn’t wanna mess up and wreck Lynn’s whole entire life and make him miserable forever or ever make him feel like any of those foster “families” and social workers ever made him and just about all the other kids he knew in the system feel or– 

Billy wonders if he could maybe find a god to talk to about asking to borrow, like, the forethought of Apollo or the precision of Arachne or the strategy of Ariadne or something sometime (though definitely not the concentration of Atalanta, because one golden apple and he’d be right back where he started). Like if he could maybe swap it out with the stamina of Atlas or the courage of Achilles when he needs to, that’s all. Just when it’s, like, situationally useful or whatever. 

. . . he’s really not doing a good job with this focus thing at all, yeah. Which he’s pretty sure he’s thought a few times now already, too, just–

He’s just really nervous, still. He’s really glad Lynn doesn’t hate him or think he’s lame, but he could still totally do something that’d make Lynn hate him or think he’s lame and–

Focus. 

“Want me to serve?” Billy offers, pointing at the plates. “I mean I know I don’t know how much you need to eat yet, but neither do you, and I’ve seen a lot more people eat than you have, sooo . . .” 

“. . . you’ve seen Superman eat?” Lynn asks, looking–uncomfortable, briefly, and looking down at the plates in his hands. Billy’s gonna have to start finding stuff for him to look at instead of people, he’s pretty sure. Like, little puzzles Lynn can be messing around with or little crafts he can be doing or something, so people just figure that’s why he’s not making eye contact with them and not, like, him being antisocial or something. 

“Oh, yeah, tons of times,” Billy says, since that’s a valid question and all, considering actually the way big majority of the people he’s seen eat were human and Lynn is actually not, so actually that might not be helpful anyway. Superman’s diet would be way more useful to know about. But the problem there is–“But like, I don’t ever really know if he really needs to be eating or if he’s just doing it to be polite? ‘Cuz I do that sometimes, definitely. But also sometimes it’s just ‘cuz something looks good? So yeah, I dunno. I’ll have to ask him when I get a chance, maybe I can catch him after the next League meeting. Or I guess I could email him, I guess that’s a thing . . .” 

He doesn’t really use his League email or messaging accounts or anything like that, like, basically ever, but Batman did give them the phones and all, so he’s not gonna have to go to the library to do it anymore, sooooo . . . 

Lynn doesn’t say anything; just keeps his eyes down and on the plates he’s still holding. Billy tries not to frown. Lynn doesn’t talk much or make eye contact all that much, so far, so it’s not like it’s new. Just–he doesn’t know, really. He’s still got this weird feeling like something’s wrong, all of a sudden. 

[sometimesoliloquy]

Ok I lied, I'm gonna keep writing stuff about the episode (I need to rewatch and process more to accurately speak on some parts but):

Janine - Janine covered for Nick (I loved that). She knows exactly who Nick is and who he is to June. This means June has talked to Janine about Nick. Told her all about him. How they're in love. He's Holly's father. He's a good man. Probably at some point on their little Chicago jaunt (I adore this). But how does she know him by sight? It's not as if June can just pull up pics on her phone or look up his instagram. His Gilead Linked In page. Does she have a secret talent for forensic sketch art we don't know about? When would Janine have seen him? Was Nick maybe there at the second farm when the handmaids were recaptured, after June gave up their location to protect Hannah (yeah how about that, I guess sometimes you gotta do shitty shit to protect the people you love, sucks don't it, June)? Did he go to make sure none of them were harmed in the capture? And gave her some sort of signal to trust him? Like he did for June? Like he maybe did for Esther when she was arrested, making sure she didn't get killed? Cus, I dunno, maybe he's a good guy who sometimes has to do shitty things but always tries to minimize the suffering and collateral damage AND MAYBE HE WAS TRYING TO FINALLY GET AWAY FROM ALL THAT AND BE FREE 😭. Anyway, Janine wouldn't have covered for him if she thought he was a bad guy (and I love her even more for it).

EDIT - Bell does call him "Blaine" after a beat so she could have just put it together from the name but it really looked like she clocked exactly who he was the second she saw him. And she knew June must have sent him, which is why she codedly asks if she's ok.

EDIT 2 - Fred's funeral reception at the Putnam's. That's gotta be it. We don't see them see each other but we see Esther give him a dirty look and I just remembered Janine was there as well as a mother duckling handmaid chaperone to the bb duckling handmaids (not that having chaperones did poor Esther any good, you're a fucking coward, Lydia).

EDIT 3 - Ok I listened the latest ATG podcast and they pointed out it really could have been any number of moments when Nick was a driver etc. so maybe I’m overthinking it. But the important thing is she knows who he is (really who he is) and that’s huge because it has to mean June told her about him. It warms my heart to think of these two gossiping and giggling about boys together *crosses June dishing about Nick with her girlfriends off my wish list*

[lutewife]

Hazbin Hotel reacts to...

Part 1:

A Lively Reader

Warnings: Cannibalism mentioned in Alastor's part, but overall it's pure fluff and crack. Notes: Had so much fun writing it, esp on Alastor's part haha! Also it reminded me of those gacha life reaction videos… If you know you know 😂 Dunno if I did it right, though, kind of looks like headcanons to me, but enjoy nevertheless! Oh, and I tried to write it gender neutral, hope you don't mind. This will be two parts, since it's easier for me to do it like that.

Charlie's probably the easiest one.

She is so, SO happy to have new residents, regardless of how they behave or look.

The first thing that will stand out to her, though is your colourful personality.

You match her energy? That surely is something new to this girl, but she absolutely doesn't mind. In fact, she is more than happy to have someone like that in the hotel.

If you are actually interested in redemption, EVEN BETTER. I think this lil' gal would literally burst with joy.

Would ask you lots of questions about the human world and listen with curiosity, since she didn't have a chance to be a human herself.

She'll probably recruit you to help her with hotel stuff, making an use of your lively personality to encourage potential residents to stay at the hotel, if you want.

Doesn't think much of your style, but she likes the variety of colours. It seems very refreshing to her.

About you liking physical touch: she will gladly let you hug her or something, she'll reciprocate happily. She really likes how your fur feels too!

Your relationship with your friend reminds her of hers with Vaggie a little.

I can actually see you becoming good friends!

Now, Vaggie probably likes you, because her girlfriend likes you, at first, let's be real haha

The first thing that will stand out to her is your looks. In her mind, it tells a lot about people. And you made a really friendly impression, despite sharing looks with a tiger, which is a generally dangerous animal.

But you are far from dangerous and that's what she likes about you.

At first, her and Charlie will be hesitant to allow you and your friend to go out much, because they are scared of you getting into trouble, since you just arrived at hell and aren't used to rules prevailing there, but eventually they will stop babying you two.

If she sees someone being mean or potentially trying to hurt you, she'll step in and protect you, mainly for Charlie's sake.

She doesn't want any new residents getting killed even before the chance to get redeemed.

Will probably get a little jealous if you're getting physical with Charlie, but if you gain her trust, she'll stop.

If you want to hug her, she'll accept, although she isn't that much of a touchy person as Charlie is.

Thinks your style is an eye-strain, but won't tell you that EVER. She believes that everyone should dress how they want.

Just like Charlie, your relationship with your friend reminds her of their dynamic.

Let's be honest, Alastor is an enigma when it comes to people.

You cannot immediately see what he thinks based on his reactions or expression.

I think that the first thing he would notice about you is your smile, if you actually are smiling. He appreciates people that wear it frequently. Otherwise he wouldn't care.

Just as he does to every resident: he would pity you and your friend. He also isn't so fond of new sinners and you aren't an exception.

Would probably warm up to you if you're cheerful. You might annoy him if you're too noisy, though.

As a jerk that he is, he would probably try to bullshit you into thinking some random untrue stuff about hell.

"Yes, my dear. Here in hell, we don't eat anything except our victim's flesh."

You would believe him and be scared shitless.

Charlie reassures you he was only making fun of you and scolds him afterwards, though.

He would absolutely not allow you to touch him. If you'd be trying to hug him, he'll probably step away from you, making you fall on your face. (I'm so sorry for this part, I needed to write it, it was just too funny HAHAHAH)

As for you and your friend's relationship, he couldn't care less. He thinks you're equal to each other.

Okay, now Husk's reaction is…

Nonexistent.

The first thing he would notice is that you're… Oh you're a tiger demon. He would raise his stupidly large eyebrow at this. Overall not much of a reaction. Wouldn't even say hi to you.

At first he wouldn't be a fan of your lively attitude, since he can't match your level of enthusiasm. But I mean I guess he'd think that's good for you.

After some time, though, he would warm up to you, since you're relatively friendly. Wouldn't mind hearing you yap for hours at the bar. He's used to it.

If you grow on him, he might start getting overprotective with you, especially when around Alastor.

He doesn't want you to end up like him, especially if you don't know what you're doing, yet.

(Alastor might purposely anger him by getting closer to you.)

He isn't a big fan of physical touch, either. If you hug him, he might get startled at first, but wouldn't mind. He won't hug you back, though.

Probably thinks your style is an eyesore like Vaggie, but wouldn't tell you, too. I mean he's not exactly the right person to judge.

Out of you two, he can relate to your friend most. Doesn't think of your dynamic that much.

Oh god this little gremlin…/a

Her first impression of you would probably be that you brought too much dirt after yourself.

Couldn't care less about where you come from, how you look and act if you're not a handsome bad boy.

At least at first.

Would notice you and your lively attitude if you respond to her chaotic behaviour positively.

You two would be an iconic, hyperactive duo. Charlie and Vaggie would literally have to stop you two from your shenanigans.

She would climb up your head or your shoulder randomly.

Would probably chomp your hand if you tried to hug her, but then give you the best small hug ever.

Loves your choice of clothing so much that when she cleans, she might steal your shirt and use it as a dress.

Okay, this guy is absolutely unhinged, as we know...

The first thing he notices is your fur, he thinks it's really nice and would probably try to pet you.

Will probably jokingly flirt with you at first. 

Would actually pity you and your friend, but it's not the same pity as Alastor's, he genuinely feels bad for you two, because he knows how terrifying it is to feel out of place in hell. You might do some things you're gonna regret for the rest of your afterlife...

That's why he silently assures you're not going near Val or the other V's, EVER.

Especially considering your friendly personality.

He likes that you're very lively, at least there is someone in this place with whom he can cause mischief and annoy the shit out of every resident.

Would try to annoy you, but fail miserably, and you probably end up annoying him instead. (Don't worry he still likes you)

Absolutely ADORES your sense of style, probably dresses you up and goes shopping for clothes with you.

He loves physical touch too! Would randomly lean on you or pat you on the head. If you try to hug him, he'll happily oblige and you'll get the absolute best hug ever. Out of everyone in the hotel, he is the best hugger, you can't tell me otherwise haha

Overall I can see that you'll get along pretty well!

Add. Notes: Hope you liked these little headcanons slash reactions idk what this is anymore, but yeah! If you enjoyed, don't be shy, repost and let me know in the comments, they are greatly appreciated! See you in the next one, darlings 🫶

[everettswritings]

What if,,,, little Burning Spice and mumma(Spice's name for her) caregiver Nutmeg :3 (you pick what to do with this pair !!)

Yes. I actually love the thought of Burning Spice being an age regressor, it just tickles my brain. I couldn’t really think of any kinda fic for this pair, so for now I’ll just stick to doing headcanon stuff. They’ll probably be a reoccurring duo on my blog now because I’m obsessed with both of them. They’re so silly. And Nutmeg is literally my OC’s girlfriend. (Kink/NSFW accounts DNI!)

Burning Spice Cookie doesn’t really care much for his regressing, he thinks it makes him weak. That it’s a vulnerability he has to hide. Even though his loyal general will assure him otherwise.

He regresses to a young toddler, usually ranging from two to three.

He doesn’t really use his words, even though he’s perfectly capable of speaking. It’s entirely up to Nutmeg Tiger Cookie to figure out what he wants.

Very pouty and very angy baby, especially after his defeat to Golden Cheese Cookie. Sure, his bigger self laughs and finds thrill in it, but his little self does not. He hates. He thinks she’s so mean!

Extremely prone to tantrums. Several things are bound to be broken, too. If he doesn’t instantly get whatever he wants, prepare for a spicy little tornado!

He actually demands ups quite frequently, but he’s near-impossible to lift. You can still try, though! In fact, your struggling will probably make him laugh. Trust me, a laughing Burning Spice Cookie is better than a fussy Burning Spice Cookie.

Nutmeg Tiger Cookie found out about the Great Destroyer’s regression completely on accident, catching him in the act on time, but she finds it honorable to serve him this way.

Unfortunately for her, she has to tolerate very rough petting. It’s worth it for his smile, of course, but he seriously doesn’t know what the word “gentle” means.

She calls him things like “Little Destroyer” out of endearment, plus it’s about as clever as one can get with nicknames.

Do not mess with this mama. You will be reduced to crumbs if you say anything bad about her Little Destroyer.

Whenever he inevitably throws some kind of tantrum, she makes a point to clean up afterwards. It’s not exactly wise to leave shards of vases or crumbled walls in the reach of a baby that doesn’t know any better. He even tries to help sometimes, but she’ll gently shoo him away to play.

There have been many occasions where he has fallen asleep in her lap or right next to her when she’s laying down, and you can bet she never dares to move a muscle. Even if her legs are falling asleep, she won’t budge.

Whenever the Little Destroyer is feeling particularly down in the dumps, she’ll pull him close for hugs and reassurance. This is especially true, again, after the whole Golden Cheese Cookie thing.

”Oh, you poor thing. Don’t worry, that mean little cookie will pay…” as she strokes his hair and coos.

And that’s it!

I dunno what to say, I just love these two. I need more of them. I need to get Burning Spice or I will crash out! I already have Nutmeg Tiger, I just need Burning Spice. DevSisters, please, please just let me have Burning Spice! Okay, have a good one 🫶

[amourningcrow]

some thoughts on the lucanis romance. caution! spoilers

you know, i've seen a lot of people complaining about how lucanis's romance is somewhat lacking and i agree, at least a little - i can't say i enjoy the scene where you lock in his romance (could have been a banter) and i honestly didn't get that it was supposed to be a 'i'm scared of wanting you' kind of romance until the end where he actually said that (i was constantly sleep deprived while playing though, so maybe that one's on me) - but i don't really think more scenes were really necessary. i loved the last one and the one in the middle was also pretty good, even though i didn't like how scripted it was.

what i really, really miss in this are the party banters. you know, like the one with alistair and wynne, where she teases him about checking out the warden?

imagine for a moment: davrin and lucanis

'they're fine.'

'i- what?'

'they're fine. you keep staring at their legs, but the venatori barely even graced them. you can stop checking every time they climb up a rock or bend to pick something up.'

'of course! i was checking on their injury! that damn venatori, nearly got them, huh?'

... (awkward silence)

'right.'

oooor maybe taash and lucanis?

'you're not being subtle, you know'

'excuse me?'

'saw you sneaking in with rook's favourite food yesterday.'

'so? i make everyone's favourite every once in a while.'

'not in the middle of the night just after they tell you, you don't'

... (stony silence)

'yeah'

ooooor i dunno, harding and lucanis?

'lucanis?'

'hmmm?'

'it would be okay, you know. if you liked someone and told them how you feel. hypothetically.'

'what? what are you talking about?'

'nothing. i just... thought someone should tell you.'

'mierda, harding, there's no one like that. so this is completely irrelevant.'

'hmhm, sure. but in theory, if there was... i'm pretty sure they like you, too. and you both deserve to be happy.'

i'm obviously not a writer, but i really think some stuff like that would have helped to set up the romance more. i tried so desperately to look through the game and find something, and maybe i just haven't discovered it yet! but the few banters i did find were all after the relationship was officially established. i don't know. i'm really disappointed because i think the potential was there, it could have been such a sweet, angsty slow-burn but they just.. didn't set it up right? the yearning™ feeds on other people seeing exactly what is going on and rolling their eyes at the idiots involved not getting on with it (/getting it on lmao). maybe something like that was planned but they had to cut it because all the companions had to get their 'making it official' chat at the same time? and pretty late in the game, too. that would sort of explain why his relationship with neve was more fleshed out as well. idk. that and my added frustration that i can't really roleplay my rook the way i want (in my roleplaying game) probably means i'll just have to write some stuff myself. and wait for someone to search through the audio files so i can get my grubby raccoon hands on all the banter i didn't hear yet 🤞