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brokenmutations · 25 days

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Night Shift

Logan Howlett • She/Her Pronouns • Mutant!Reader [Heightened Senses] • POSSIBLE DEADPOOL & WOLVERINE SPOILERS • Joining a new timeline didn’t stop the nightmares from occurring. But at least, he doesn’t suffer alone…or at all after some time • ANGST/SFW/NSFW • TW: Major Injuries / Blood Loss / Nightmares / Anxiety

“Another nightmare?”

Logan looks away from the scene that was New York City late at night to catch the eyes the voice came from, which happened to be Y/N. She had stepped out onto the fire escape for her own reasons and to her surprise there was Logan on the escape of the apartment next door.

“Yeah, somethin’ like that”

“Better than Wade sleepwalking. Had to save him from you cutting his head off for almost grabbing your balls” Y/N scoffs, bringing herself to sit in the stairs of the escape looking out to the same scene. “Should give you some rope to tie him to his and Al’s bed because who knows when he’ll sleep walk”

“If you’re offering, I’ll take it” Logan scoffs leaning over the railing listening to the noise that he both misses and wishes it would stop. Which really makes him miss his home in the woods…back in his timeline with his Y/N.

“I know you’re not one for charity, but if you ever need a good nights sleep or company after a bad night…my door, or window is always open”

“I’ll think about it next time, bub” Logan pulled himself away from the railing to bring himself back inside as Y/N remained outside taking in every single sound of New York before wincing and putting her headphones back on while heading back inside.

Logan thought a few nights with a nightmare each time that he could handle it. But staying up after every occurrence only made him grumpier and Wade wasn’t having it for the most part.

“I can tell just by your baby hand that Logan didn’t sleep well”

“All I ask for this writer is to give him SOMETHING, but no! Who cares about plot nowadays we all saw his fucking Hawaiian roll buttered up abs” Wade groans behind the mask wishing he didn’t agree to this mission with Y/N. “Sorry. Kitty was angry this morning because of the lack of sleep he’s been having.”

“I got that much, Wilson” Y/N frowns rubbing circles on his back before suddenly taking his katana and slicing the once running target that entered the wrong alley way. “Guess it’s a short day”

“Bless your fucking heart” Wade quickly took his phone out taking a picture of the hit and sending it to the contact. “I’ll send you your money when I get it”

“Are you going to use most of yours for cocaine again?”

“Get your bloodhound nose out of mine alright?!”

Y/N watched him leave amused for a moment before disposing of the body because baby-hand-magee couldn’t for whatever reason.

Returning to the apartment later than usual didn’t bother Y/N, but she also didn’t expect someone to be in her apartment at the hour that it was. She knew there was someone given her senses, so when she flicked the light on for Logan to scramble suddenly and notice her unfazed expression he was a bit surprised. But so was she a little.

“I didn’t think you’d take me up on it”

Logan shrugs a bit not knowing what to say as Y/N couldn’t fight back a smile. She enters the apartment entirely, shutting the door behind her as she drops her bag on the floor.

“Make yourself at home” Y/N shot him another smile while she walked past him to enter the kitchenette setting down the takeout bag she had along with her other belonging.

The man obviously felt foreign in her apartment even with the invitation. Logan brought himself to sit on the couch watching her movements that weren’t much different from her. Except for more hesitation when handling things that might overwhelm her senses.

“I got takeout and I always buy extra if you’re interested.” Y/N gestures with her head to the kitchen she stood in if he wanted some. But when he didn’t come once she finished putting her dinner in a bowl, she decided to make him one regardless.

While she did such, Logan looked at the frame pictures on the wall behind the couch noticing there was a picture of him. He brought his whole body to face it and get a better look.

This universe’s Logan looked happy and so did Y/N beside him. There was another beside it that was a Polaroid with Laura looking at the picture confused but had a laughing Y/N in the background with Logan reaching for the thing.

“There’s a whole box of Polaroids I can grab that she took from when she was younger” Y/N’s voice startled him slightly as if he had gotten caught for looking at pictures. “Some are very blurry but they mean a lot to Laura and I so I keep them” she handed his plate which he wasn’t going to refuse after she took the time to plate it.

Before she sat with him, Y/N pulled a box out from under the couch setting it beside him. “Whenever you want to look at them” she stated while finally sitting to eat her late dinner, she reached into her coat pocket to take out a bottle of pills and dropped one on top of her rice. Causing Logan to stare and inspect his food. “I didn’t drug yours. It’s my sleeping pill, I have to eat something with it and this just makes it easier”

You don’t need them, sweetheart. Just focus on my heartbeat. That’ll calm you down

Sometimes it’s as fast as jackrabbit, Lo. Are you sure it’ll work?

You’ve said the pills make yea sick in the morning. Even more drowsy. This will work and if not, I’ll help you find alternatives

Okay, love. You know I trust you

Logan’s heart started to ache for what he lost in his timeline and Y/N felt the mood shift as they sat together eating. She wanted to comfort him but didn’t want to over step in any way.

After some time and a little clean up, Y/N went to bed once she got the foldable bed ready for Logan. Leaving him with a box of pictures alone to go through. He didn’t right away and stayed in the bed trying to sleep but wanting to know what this world’s Logan was like to these two important people in his life was itching his brain.

A lot of the Polaroids were blurry and could tell those looking that the young photographer was just learning how to use it. Then they got clearer and Laura would mainly take pictures of Y/N with her because she didn’t mind it. But there was several of Logan both pissed that he’s being photographed and the occasional one where he’s admiring Y/N.

Then there’s a few, like three Polaroids…where her Logan had taken them. One of her sleeping on his chest, another with just the two of them, then one of Y/N in a window holding Laura as she slept. The back of it had some writing on it…

Who I’m fighting for

Logan couldn’t help but feel the pain that Y/N could’ve possibly—-and most likely did feel when she read that a moment after her Logan passed. It made sense why she sobbed when reuniting with Laura.

This kept him awake for a while longer until he finally let sleep take over.

More into the night is when Y/N woke through a haze hearing heavy breathing. The apartment was small even with a one bedroom so she could hear everything regardless of her mutation. She pulled herself out of the bed grabbing the oversized flannel off her chair to slip on so she wouldn’t be in just a tank top and shorts when investigating.

It was obvious what was happening when Y/N drew close to Logan’s tossing form. She carefully moved the box of Polaroid off the bed before bringing herself beside him.

“Logan…” Y/N whispers watching him grip onto the sheets and the smallest glint of metal revealing itself. “Logan it’s just a nightmare”

He wasn’t coming out of it and Y/N knew what could happen next. She then decided to risk it and do what she used to do for him.

________

“Logan it’s okay…you’re okay, nothing is harming anyone you love” Y/N whispers, resting her head on Logan’s chest that was once rising and falling at an unbearable speed. But the second her head rested on it, it slowed. “You’re okay…we’re okay…I’m okay…”

Once Logan calmed, he brought his arms around her sighing. He pressed his lips onto the top of her head feeling her relax against him.

“You just…know how to bring me back”

“I’ll always find a way to bring you back, Lo. Even if it kills me”

________

The second her head rested on his chest, Logan relaxed and the small hint of his claws coming out retracted back. He didn’t wake but he finally relaxed.

“You’re okay, Lo” Y/N whispers rubbing circles on his chest feeling his body relax beneath her. “Everything is going to be okay”

She let the exhaustion take her from the day and found herself fast asleep on him. The steady of his breathing and his heartbeat calmed her…calmed all the sounds she’s been overwhelmed with…

This has been happening for a while. Logan sleeping over and Y/N helping him sleep. She would normally slip out of his embrace during an early hour of the day so he wouldn’t notice. But after the first five times, he’s noticed. He didn’t want to say anything because he enjoyed it. Especially the one time she didn’t get up early and remained there peacefully, giving Logan a chance to admire her while she slept.

They both missed this with their universe’s other…but there was also more than their other had

The most recent time it happened, it was extra difficult to get Logan to fall back asleep with his claws still retracted. That when Logan woke in the morning, disappointed she wasn’t there…he realized shortly why when Y/N handed him coffee and her arm was bandaged. You can’t lie to Logan. You can try but it won’t work. He knows he cut her by accident and it was her first time but her first time with this Logan.

“I’m sorry…” Logan randomly told her when he accompanied her and Wade on a job. The two of them taking look out after Wade insisted ‘he got this’

“Nightmares are scary things, Logan. We all do things when we have them”

“I…You’ve never had them with me around” Logan whispered. “Or least when I’ve been around…”

“I guess I’ve been sleeping better…have been taking my sleeping pills less” Y/N knew the blush on her complexion was giving her away on how she felt and Logan tried so hard to ignore it but the tips of his ears burned red. “What’s taking Wade so long? I can’t hear any fighting or—-“

“Smell any blood. Should we—-“ Logan was cut off by the sound of an explosion as he instinctively covered Y/N who covered her ears until she felt alright to release. “Fucking moron”

“Awww thanks for the new nickname, peanut” Wade cheers strutting out of the now burning building with one less arm. He noticed their position and couldn’t help the smirk on his face. “So!” Ignoring the current fire. “Are you two coming to my party later? Al says she found cocaine but knowing her she probably had Mary Puppins sniff some questionable white bags so it could actually end up being meth”

“I don’t think the poor pup is an efficient drug sniffing dog” Y/N commented as she went into her bag to put her headphones on. “Besides. I’d love to but I have another job later”

“You uh need a hand?” Logan asked, sensing the devilish smirk on Wade’s face resulting in him unsheathing his claws making him hold his hands up.

“I was instructed to take it on alone…but I’ll be alright. Usually am” Y/N reassures. “You’re still…allowed to be in my apartment if you don’t want to be at the party for the whole thing”

“Oh he’s gonna stay. Yukio is gonna do tarot readings” Wade wrapped his baby arm around Logan, enticing a growl out of the man.

Y/N rolled her eyes with a smile before throwing her backpack on. “Just don’t get into too much trouble, Wade. I hate talking to the landlord for you” and with that said, she left the two to clean up whatever mess there could be after what Wade did.

The party was a bit much. Logan was starting to get frustrated even if he sat on the couch with Dogpool watching everybody get drunk, have their tarots read, and listen to more of Wade’s sex stories. He wasn’t doing much but nursing a beer and think about her. She’s been on his mind for much longer than when she said she was doing a job solo. He was going to take that night as an opportunity to admit to feelings he’s felt much longer than the time Y/N first helped him with his nightmares.

She’s always been patient with him when he was standoff-ish in the beginning.

She kept her cool when he’d yell out his frustration

She never hesitated to give him answers to any questions he had about her Logan or Laura

She always listens. Never pushes her thoughts.

She’s there whenever you need her.

Every Logan will love every Y/N out there…

Mary Puppins suddenly stirred beside Logan which he normally didn’t care about given she can do what she pleases. But she jumped off the couch and instantly went to the door starting to scratch it. Given the hour it was, 2AM, Wade was plastered and couldn’t take her out so he decided to do it himself.

Once the pup was strapped in her harness and leash, Logan opened the door only for Puppins to lunge forward and toward something that only made him grumble with the force she was giving.

“Calm down, bub. We’ll get outside soon” Logan sighs shutting the door behind him and stilling for a moment when he heard footsteps. He quickly scoops up Mary Puppins and hesitantly approaches the stairs.

If it wasn’t Mary Puppins in his arms, he’d drop everything. Instead he carefully set her down before quickly approaching Y/N and her fragile state.

“What happened?” Logan frowns hearing his heartbeat rapid in his ears as he tried to remain calm even if her currently bleeding state wasn’t helping.

“A lot. I…I wanna sleep”

“No, bub. You’re bleedin’ we gotta stop it…or—“ Logan froze when Y/N collapsed in his arms and he didn’t hesitate to yell for Wade.

It’s been an annoyingly anxiety inducing couple of hours in the ER, then the waiting room. Logan sat beside Wade who kept dozing off every now and then because of the booze in his system but at least Mary Puppins in his arm licked his face to perk him up. Logan’s leg wouldn’t stop bouncing and the scowl on his face became more permanent expression until he heard any news.

In a panic, Laura quickly entered the waiting room scanning the room and locking eyes with Logan before approaching.

“What happened?!”

“A job gone wrong. It happens.” Wade yawns rubbing his eyes and once he got the sleepiness out of them he was met with an identical glare from Laura that matched the one on Logan’s. “What? She passed out before we got details, angel babies. We won’t know more until she wakes up. What I said is the best you’re gonna get” he sighed turning himself toward the reader of this story. “Afraid if I say more. I’ll traumatize the nurses over my baby limbs more than the amount of blood that escapes my hot bod”

Now as the four of them wait, with the occasional letting the pup out to do her business, Logan couldn’t help but think of when he lost his Y/N.

It wasn’t like with the rest of the X-Men, but if some of the X-Men were still alive. They would say it’s the reason he left in the first place

________

“What do you mean she didn’t leave the building?!” Logan shouted at Scott only to leave the plane in a hurry back to the scene.

“Jean stop hi—-“

“No”

“Jean.”

“Scott, let him go” Ororo sided with Jean in the silent agreement of he needs to see for himself.

The smell of her blood stained his senses the closer he got to it. Why didn’t they try and save her? What did she say to them?

Instead of those questions piercing a thought in his mind, Logan found Y/N barely hanging on and the only reason they didn’t pull her out because if they did…she would only die instantly and she needed him. For one last moment.

“No…No no no…Y/N, baby” Logan’s voice cracked at the sight as he dropped to his knees trying to figure out a way to cut through the beams that were piercing her in several places. “Baby I-I’m gonna…I-I…I-I’ll get you out. Yeah I will…”

“Lo…p-please…we both know—-“

“No! I can’t. I-I can’t lose y-you” He sobbed, this man with a rough exterior sobbed and it only broke her heart as she reached for him. Feeling his cheek gently place itself in her palm. “Please…D-Don’t leave me”

“I love you. I love you so m-much” Y/N winced feeling the pain subside but only in that direction. “Y-You…y-ou’ll find me…a-again…p-promise”

“Y/N…” Logan sobbed gripping her wrist and focusing on her breathing that started to slow. “I love you. Fuck I love you so much. I didn’t say it enough. I-I love you.” He cried watching the love of his life wither.

________

But this wasn’t happening again.

Laura laid her head on the side of Y/N’s bed with Logan’s jacket draped over her as she occupied the chair by her bed. While Logan sat in the one in the far corner. Wade had to bring Mary Puppins home and tell those who stayed the night after a drunken party that Y/N pulled through.

What happened was Y/N took another job for the same guy that her job with Wade and Logan came from. But the purpose of it being solely only her was to trap her and force information out of her on the regenerative properties the two have. She knows very little about the properties because Wade doesn’t know how his manifested and Logan’s don’t need a rocket scientist to figure out. They thought they hit the gold mine when capturing her but instead while they met their inevitable end, Y/N gotten beaten and physical broken in the process.

Which explains the sling made for collar bone fractures on her, and the bandaging around her torso for more than just internal bleeding but to stabilize the broken ribs. The bruises and cuts littered are self explanatory.

The only plus side to all of this in her case was how sterile and quiet a private hospital room is.

All Y/N heard were their heartbeats and how fast they were going given her current state.

“I’m…n-not dying. You can calm just a little bit” Y/N sighed out, hearing the quick shuffling indicating Logan practically shot out of his chair approaching her other side while Laura gently rested her hand on Y/N’s that was rested on her stomach. “I’m okay sweet girl” she reassured taking her hand into hers as she finally opened her eyes wincing slightly at the light and her shifting only to feel the extent of her injuries. “T-That goes for you too, Lo…I’m okay.”

“Your injuries say otherwise” Logan frowns sitting on the edge of the bed watching Laura hesitantly climb into the bed after Y/N ushered her to do so. “Don’t…don’t let her move too much, kid”

“Worrywart. She’s fine.” Y/N let her lay beside her as Laura was always mindful of injuries and didn’t mess with any of the tubes she was connected to.

She was in the hospital for three days. Laura stayed for two and went back to Y/N’s apartment to clean it up for when she comes back. Including getting her prescriptions and things. Logan stayed for all three days. She wanted him to stay for all three days.

“You okay on the pull out bed?” Y/N tried to help make the bed with the one arm but Logan quickly and gently took the part of the blanket out of her hand. “I can still help”

“You broke your collarbone on the left side, sweetcheeks. You ain’t lifting a finger even if five are out of commission” Wade tugged too much on his side resulting in a grumble from Logan and Laura to push him away.

“I’m okay on the couch bed, mo—-Y/N” Laura couldn’t help the embarrassed blush to rise on her cheeks for almost calling Y/N mom in front of others. Even if that’s what she is to her.

Wade being Wade was about to comment until Y/N glared at him before tiredly making her way to her room. Logan hesitantly follows, letting Laura boss Wade around to help her finish making the bed even if he’s already messed up.

“So uh. She’s staying on the couch bed so I’ll go back to Wa—-“

“You can sleep with me…” Y/N had her back turned to him which she was grateful given the blush that started to spread. “I’ll be bounded to one side since I have to be sleeping sitting up. Plenty of space for another body”

“I don’t…I don’t want to hurt you any further by accident”

“I promise you…you won’t hurt me” She frowns reaching for another pillow, only for Logan to stop her and do it himself.

Once the night stilled and Wade was sleeping on the floor while Laura took the bed…Logan laid awake beside Y/N’s still form occasionally glancing over to make sure she’s still breathing. As much as she was saved and alive, he couldn’t help the fear aching in his chest that she would disappear right before him.

The second he shut his eyes, they instantly shot open causing him to quickly look at her seeing her breathing heavy and tears were rolling down her cheeks.

“Y/N—-“ Logan quickly maneuvered on the bed to be sat on his knees by her side. Resting his hand on her face watching her face grimace and her eyes remain close. “Y/N, baby it’s a nightmare—-“

“P-Please…Please don’t take them from me again” She begged, still in her unconscious state as the tears kept coming her body tensed at first when she felt another hand rest on her other cheek. But suddenly relaxed and sobbed more while she opened her eyes. “Logan…everything is too loud”

Logan frowns wiping away her tears letting his body relax beside her and bringing her close while minding her injuries. The sense of protectiveness he emitted brought an old familiar warm feeling in Y/N’s chest as she looked up at him with a pleading expression.

“Just focus on my heartbeat, that’ll calm you down” He whispers being mindful of the noise happening inside her head as she rests her head on his shoulder keeping her eyes on him. “Breathe…just listen. Focus on that” he relaxed himself enough so his heart wouldn’t be pounding in her ears.

But the second she focused and started to finally relax after the nightmare, Y/N shut her eyes letting the last of the tears fall.

“I’ve got you. I’ve got you” He whispers to her bringing his lips to her forehead hearing a soft sigh escape her lips.

“Logan…”

“Hm? What is it, princess?”

“Please don’t leave me”

“I’m not going anywhere”

#logan howlett #x men #deadpool and wolverine #logan howlett x reader #logan howlett fanfiction #brokenmutations

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mrsparrasblog · 4 months

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You're losing me pt. 5

prev. part. first part.

TW: Gun, violence, mentioned rape, gaslighting, medic is shit

It was your last day on sick leave, so you spent it grading papers, cuddling with Winston, and getting distracted by Kyle's messages and his slutty pictures. You were so thankful for Kyle; he never pressed you for what happened with Johnny, just distracted you.

After you send a picture of Winston you heard the bell ringing and rolled your eyes. You knew Kyle never listened when you said not to come over, even though you really needed that time alone right now. Johnny is an artist, even though he didn't admit it, and so was being in a relationship with him. It was like being in a colorful picture, so vibrant. But since you left him, it felt like someone drained out the color; the painting is black and white, no longer golden.

You went to the door, opened it, and to your surprise, it wasn’t Kyle behind the door. She was there, her eyes puffy and red.

"What do you want?" If she was there to humiliate you, you’re going to throw up. You shortly texted Ky that she was there.

"I wanted to talk to you, I need your help," she sobbed.

Simon always called you one of the nicest people on earth, but right now, it was enough of being nice. "Well, you can ask Johnny for help." You tried to shut your door, but her foot was already between the frame.

"He is the problem."

"What, did he leave you?" you snorted out.

"He threatened to kill me because of the baby." You clearly misheard her. This can't be true, as if you can do anything against Johnny, and as if Johnny would do something against his own teammate.

"Baby?"

"Yes, I'm pregnant, three months." She rubs her nonexistent belly in front of you. Three months? Johnny cheated on you for three months? And a baby? No, this can't be true. Johnny loves babies; he’d never kill a pregnant woman, none of them.

"And he is threatening you?" You asked while slowly trying to pull out your phone again. You knew Si would be here in 4 minutes if you called him.

"Yes, he wants to tell everyone that I raped him, just so I get an abortion." With that, you burst out laughing. This was the worst joke you ever heard. When she wanted you to pull you away from him for real.

"Do you really think I'm that stupid to believe this shit now leave my apartment before I call the police." You already pulled out your phone to dial the number of the police, who are you kidding, dial the number of Simon. Simon and John always explained if something happens to you, call them instead of the police, they solve your problem faster, and that was a gigantic slag-formed problem.

"Bad mistake," she points out a gun to you, calculating. You trained for this situation endless times in school, but it was still different when someone held a gun against you. Would it work to tell her that there are people that love her? Or maybe you should argue with logic.

"When you kill me, they won't forgive you, it's not worth it," you said trying to sound as calm as possible.

"They won't find out," she laughed. God, that woman was batshit crazy.

"Here are cameras," they weren’t recording, but maybe she was stupid enough to believe you.

"They will understand," she said. Maybe she was stupid enough but also crazy enough to not care. There is only the last logical thing you could say to her.

"Then kill me."

"What?" She was surprised at your bluntness, but you knew she couldn’t really kill you, and if Kyle looked at his phone, he would have already been on his way, so you need to get through this for 10 minutes, 10 minutes, and you are safe.

"If you kill me, Johnny will find you, Kyle will break you, Simon will torture you, and John will finish your miserable life, my death isn’t worth this." You slowly walked backward towards the counter, there must be a gun. John put it in there when you first got together. You didn't quite know how to use it, but better than nothing.

"You're right," finally.

"So why don’t we put the gun down and just, you know, talk about it like adults," you suggested, still moving tiny steps backward.

"Stop moving, or I'll kill you," the same words over and over again. She sounded like a broken record recorder. You stopped moving, but this wasn’t enough for her.

"Maybe I should kill your rat, so you listen." Rat? Her gun pointed toward Winston. Fuck, she should better kill you than your baby. You lost complete hope in turning her; she is crazy.

"He is Kyle's dog, not mine. If you kill him, he will be sad." The shake in your voice was evident; tears started to storm out of your eyes; you didn't know what to do anymore.

"Three of four are enough, anyways." Fuck, fuck, fuck.

"I can call them; I'll break up with them, just let Winston be safe, okay?"

"Really, you give up your boyfriends for that rat?" She gestured disgusted at your precious baby.

"Yes."

"Okay, call them," you walked to the counter, dialing Simon's number, close enough to the gun. You really hoped they don’t show a sign that they know; they are SAS; they need to understand, right?

"Hello," good, Simon's voice.

"Are the others with you?" You asked, trying not to tremble; she couldn’t find out what you planned.

"Yes, I put them on speaker, luv."

"I'm breaking up with you, with all of you for final this time. John, you're always putting me in danger, Johnny, you're always with her instead of my home, always on deployment with Simon, and you’re carrying all these scary guns with you that make me afraid, and I hate your stupid dog, Kyle." She looked proud and relieved at you, too stupid to realize. But they were smart, right?

"Okay, just give me back my keys to the office, they’re in the cupboard in the kitchen. I don’t want to see you anytime soon, I will pick it up at three tomorrow, bye." She gained heavily, and all you could feel was relief; you looked at the clock; it was 2:57, three minutes, and the gun. God, you loved your smart boys.

"Will you let me go now?" you asked, and she shook her head.

"Just need to make sure that you never go to my boys again, you can understand, right?"

"I'll move abroad if you want, the US, Germany, Italy, call it and I'll be gone." Before she could reply, she heard a loud bang outside, and that was your chance to grab the gun as she turned around, loaded fucking genius John, but not in safety, idiot. And then you shot, closing your eyes. You never did this before; the closest you came was a water gun at the beach; you didn't hit anything major, only her shoulder, but it was enough for her to lose her stance and fall. Seconds after, the boys went in Simon pulled her to the ground like a bulldozer with John. While Kyle and Johnny ran to you.

"Are you okay?" Both men asked, checking you for any injury.

"I don't feel okay."

"We know, love." You wrapped your arms around Johnny and began to sob. You needed him; you missed him and you were so scared. You knew for a fact he didn't cheat on you after that stunt that woman pulled today.

"We'll take care of her; we will be back soon, luv," Simon said with a devious grin while putting his boot on her to press down on her bullet wound.

John and Ghost left with her, and you knew for a fact your shot would be the nicest thing she witnessed in the next few days.

"I shot someone."

"Proud of you, hen."

"Never shoot again, please, babe; you're terrible at it," Kyle joked, but you still felt shitty. He knelt down, hugging Winston tight. "Oh, you've been such a brave and good boy protecting your mama. Let me take you to the park, pup," he said while Winston barked happily. "You two need to talk this out."

"Only we two now, Johnny."

"Aye, only we two."

"Where do we start?"

--------------------

Taglist: @cod-z , @kaoyamamegami, @postmortem-angel, @jackrabbitem , @sseleniaa , @thigh-o-saur , @littlechomper @ab12305 @darkangel4121 @thychuvaluswife

A/N : so I added the picture of Eliot to make up for the Angst I write 😭

For any who has a light belly (do you say that in english or only in German lol?) the next chapter will be half torture of her and the other half Johnny and Reader <3

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elllisaaa · 1 year

Text

how ateez would confess to you

-> words count : 3.7k words

-> genre : ateez members crushing on you

-> warnings : just a lot of sweetness

-> sorry if I made any spelling or grammar mistakes, english is not my first language

-> reblogs and feedbacks are appreciated !

-> masterlist | ateez masterlist

KIM HONGJOONG - JEALOUS

he’s the type to be bold. but like REALLY bold.

like he’s not embarrassed at all to check you out when you ask him if your outfit looks good and say “it looks more than good, don’t worry.” with that damn smirk screaming in my pillow.

he’s also very protective - always has his hand on the small of your back when you’re walking in a crowded place, and always gives you his jacket or sweater if you’re cold or feeling uncomfortable.

he has an eye on you wherever you two are going to be sure that you’re safe.

asks you to send him a message so he is sure that you’re home whenever you go out of work, or hang out late without him, or when he can’t walk you home.

that being said, it’s also a fact that this man is possessive.

have you seen him whenever an atiny mentions liking another group, or going to other concerts than theirs ?

he would be the same with you.

but since you’re not yet a couple, he tries to hide it as well as he can.

but jealousy would be his breaking point.

seeing you laugh and joke with some trainee of the agency he didn’t even know the name of really made his blood boil.

his death stare was burning holes in the back of the head of the poor boy you were talking with.

he would approach both of you, and as if the trainee wasn’t already intimidated by hongjoong presence, he was looking at him like he killed someone lmao.

the trainee was almost shaking when hongjoong dragged you away from him under a ridiculous excuse.

“- Joong ! Where are we going ?”

He didn’t answer, jaw clenched and his grip on your wrist almost painful as he brought you to his studio. Hongjoong closed the door behind the two of you, just to have the time to think about the way he was going to explain himself. He always succeeded in controlling himself and mostly his jealousy, but today, he didn’t exactly know why, it was too hard seeing you with someone else, laughing like you should be with only him.

“- Hongjoong ? What’s gotten into you ?”

He took a deep breath. Maybe it was finally the moment to say the truth. It would take a weight out of his shoulder, and he could have an answer to all his questions. Hongjoong turned towards you, a smirk on his lips.

“- You want me to be honest ?”

You simply nobbed, looking at him expectantly, and even if he acted confident, his heart was beating fast.

“- I didn’t like seeing you laugh with another guy. Well, I didn’t like it every other time it happened. But I think today was just too much to bear for me. Because I love you. I want you to be mine, only mine. I want to be the one who makes you laugh like that, and I want you to be the one who makes me laugh. What do you say ?”

The blush creeping on your cheeks as you listened to his words, and watched his grin widened was really noticeable. But your smile was even more telling to him.

“- I say yes.”

“from now on and forever, I won’t let you go. you’re mine.”

PARK SEONGHWA - SAFE

he is literally the sweetest person ever.

the type to text you throughout the day to ask if you have eaten and if your answer is no, expect him to be at your door in 5 minutes, drank or took a break.

so, so caring and always there whenever you need him.

mention that you had a bad day or are a little down ? expect a movie night, your favorite snacks and a lot of cuddles from hwa.

speaking of that, he sometimes always acts as if he was your boyfriend.

not that it’s bothering you, on the contrary, but he still claims to everyone that you two are just best friends.

and that’s confusing because he’s out there holding your hands, putting his arm on your shoulder, cuddling with you.

to be honest, seonghwa has been trying to make things ambiguous between the two of you lately, in hopes that you would take the hint that he likes you.

like that one time he pushed a strand of your hair behind your ear and you thought that he was about to kiss you.

so tonight, while he was laying on top of you on your couch, focused on the show playing on the TV, you decided it was time to clarify this situation.

“- Hwa ?”

The man turned his head towards you at the mention of his surname, big doe eyes watching you and waiting for what you wanted to say. You hoped that he couldn’t hear how fast your heart was beating.

“- Can I ask you a question ?

- Yeah, of course.”

Seonghwa’s smile almost made your hands shake, and you came back to playing with his hair to try and hide it.

“- What are we ?”

It was as if the whole world had stopped spinning for Seonghwa. Was it finally happening ? Was this your way of asking him to be more than friends ? He silently prayed for it, closing his eyes for a second to gather his thoughts, and also to escape your piercing gaze that was making him even more nervous than he already was.

“- I’m willing to be whatever you want us to be angel.

- And what do you think of… You being mine, and me being yours ?”

Seonghwa giggled quietly, burying his face in the crook of your neck to hide the red tint on his cheeks. His arms, that circled your waist, tightened their grip, not planning on letting you go anytime soon.

“that’ll be perfect. that’s what i wanted us to be all along.”

JEONG YUNHO - SLEEPY

100% golden retriever energy, you can’t say otherwise i’ll fight.

i don’t know, he just gives this puppy boyfriend vibes, all fluffy and clingy and sweet, he’s just so cute honestly.

the type to always want to hang out, because his love language his quality time.

will make it a ritual to eat with you at least 2 times a week, weekend hangouts where you either simply go shopping or sometimes he plans activities, and movie nights too.

so smiley around you his cheeks hurts when he goes home after spending the day with you.

he gets especially giggly every time you do something a little silly, like when you trip while trying to show him something.

always makes sure you’re alright afterwards though.

to put it in a nutshell, he’s just very cute.

but he finds you even more cute, particularly when you’re all sleepy.

because then you snuggle up to him, seeking his warmth, and you often fall asleep on him, unaware of how much you make his heart flutter.

during your usual movie night, you felt tired and rested on his shoulder.

As Yunho heard your breathing become more regular, he assumed that you were asleep. He was always so glad that you felt safe enough around him to be this vulnerable. And mostly, he got to admire your beautiful face without risking you to catch him. He didn’t know why but tonight, he felt on the verge of telling you. And after all, you were asleep, you couldn’t hear him. He already said it to you a few times like that, what could go wrong ?

“- You’re breathtaking Y/N, really… I love you.”

As Yunho was ready to cover you with a blanket to keep you even more warm, your voice stopped him in his tracks.

“- Can you say it again ? I’m not sure I understood.”

His panicked eyes turned to your fully awake ones, looking at him with a mischievous glint. The poor boy gulped loudly, not knowing if he was going to be in trouble or if you were just messing with him, as you always did.

“- I-I love you, I really do. I just… It was easier telling you when you couldn’t reject me.”

A shy chuckle escaped him as he averted your gaze, missing the smile eating your whole face at his confession.

“- Look at me, big baby.”

And when he eventually did, you finally answered his silent interrogation.

“- I love you too, so much.”

Yunho engulfed you in the biggest hug, already taking advantage of your new relationship.

“I can’t wait to spend every day and every night by your side.”

KANG YEOSANG - PERFECT

he’s not very talkative, in the sense that he’s not always making remarks about what you tell him.

but don’t worry, he got it all written in his head.

it could be the most useless detail about a story that happened to you years ago, and he still will remember it.

because you’re too precious to him to forget anything about you he’s so boyfriend material.

the type to take notice of what you like to eat.

say that you love a certain type of food one time, and you’ll get it every now and then.

he remembers your coffee order from day one.

also a really good listener and give the best advice.

that being said, he’s the type to notice if you looked at something with envy in a shop, or said that you wanted this or that.

and bets that he’ll confess with a little gift that he bought for you.

maybe that’ll be a waste of money if you say no, but he doesn’t care, you’re worth it.

so he’ll buy this necklace you’ve been talking about for weeks, and come to you one day, almost out of the blue to offer it to you.

“- You shouldn’t have, really. That’s too much.

- It’s never too much when it comes to you.”

You were blushing like crazy, as much as from his words and how his fingers brushed against your skin as Yeosang attached the necklace for you. His eyes reflected nothing but love and adoration when he looked at you.

“- You’re beautiful, it suits you perfectly.

- Thank you so much Sangie ! But what is this for ? It’s not my birthday or anything special…”

Yeosang lowered his head for several seconds before mustering the courage to let the words finally spill from his mouth. They were coming out so naturally that it seemed like you were truly made for one another.

“- I wanted to give you this just because you loved it, but also to remind you how much I love you. And I don’t mean it in a friendly way. I like you. And I hope, if you return my feelings, that this necklace is gonna remind you of that everyday.”

Your smile was enough of an answer for him, but you took a step forward, putting your hand on Yeosang’s cheek and making his heart beat faster.

“- I’ll wear it everyday from now on. I must find something for you to wear and remember how much I love you too.”

“let’s get matching ones then, that’ll make us soulmates.”

CHOI SAN - FORCED

now this boy is the most obvious when it comes to crushes.

like all the members could tell that he was down bad for you since the first day.

but you didn’t seem to notice.

however, it was indeed very clear since he looked at you as if you put all the stars in the sky.

really, i don’t understand how you didn’t notice.

beside the fact that he’s literally a simp for you, he’s also been your best friend for several years now, and he knows you like the back of his hand except your undying love for him.

he had always been by your side : when you were sad or happy, when you had your first crush and even when you got drunk for the first time.

the members having obviously noticed how san was struggling to tell you how he felt, they tried to help him multiple times.

to be honest, this was not really efficient but at least they tried.

the latest attempt was at this little party they planned at the dorms, and of course you were invited.

at one point, everyone gathered to play truth or dare, and of course, it was a trick to get you two to confess to each other not very slick, yeah.

“- So San, truth or dare ?

- Truth, I have nothing to hide.”

His confident smile made you chuckle, knowing all his embarrassing secrets and also knowing how much he, in fact, had to hide.

“- Well, then tell us who your crush is.”

The smirk on Yunho’s face made a deep contrast with the defeated one on San face. You felt your own smile flatter as you tried not to look at your best friend. You knew this day would come. Of course San wouldn’t stay with you until your old days. Of course he would find a better partner. You were only his best friend, not his lover.

“- I… Uh-

- I thought you had nothing to hide, Sannie.”

The group laughed collectively at Wooyoung's remark, except you and San. You were almost ready to stand up and leave when your best friend turned to you.

“- Y/N… I really love you.”

Your eyes widened as San ran away immediately. Around you, the members were all whistling and making weird noises. But you didn’t hear them. You only heard San’s words again and again. Quickly after, you followed him to the kitchen. He had to know how much you loved him too. When you found him, he had his head pressed on the fridge, eyes closed and probably overthinking everything he had ever said and done.

“- San…”

He turned to you quickly, worry filling up his gaze.

“- Listen Y/N, I’m really sorry ! I shouldn't have said that in front of everyone, I should’ve kept it for a moment just between us, or never tell you at all in fact. I apologize for making you feel uncomfortable and I’m-

- San, stop.”

You took a step toward him, your smile eating your face.

“- We’ve known each other for years, you’ll never make me uncomfortable. Stop thinking too much, okay ? ‘Cause I love you too, since I don’t even remember when because you’re the most important person in my life.”

No answer came except his lips on yours, and his hand on your waist, pulling you against his body.

“i’ve always known that one day we’ll be together, and that one day i’ll marry you. but let’s keep that for later.”

SONG MINGI - DRUNK

the boy is a stuttering and nervous mess around you.

blushing everytime you smile at him, but denying it if you ever mention it before blushing even more, he’s so cute.

besides the fact he’s so impressed by your charisma and presence, he’s very funny around you.

the type to make the dumbest jokes and put himself in ridiculous situations if that makes you laugh.

because your smile and laugh are the most beautiful things he had ever seen and heard.

it’s so funny to see a big guy like him being so amazed by just one person, you find that really endearing.

but that also means that he’s not brave at all.

like, if he ever tried to just muster up the courage to tell you that he has the biggest crush on you, he would chicken out as soon as he saw you.

and I think that to be able to confess, he would have to take a little liquid courage yes, that means getting drunk.

one night, the boys were celebrating the release of their new comeback with some drinks and mingi asked you to come with them.

and of course, he’ll end up drinking too much, hoping that he would either stop thinking about you or finally telling you how he felt.

“- Y/N !”

Mingi’s scream made you jolt in place and turn around quickly, smiling when you saw him trying to walk straight in your direction, with his rosy cheeks and glossy eyes. He was cute, really cute. But you didn’t expect him to literally throw himself in your arms. You caught him as best as you could, shivering as his breath tickled your neck.

“- Are you alright Mingi ?”

He nodded his head, trying to steady himself and standing straight on his feet again. You looked up at him, preparing yourself to decode his slurred words.

“- Yeah… Yes, I’m alright but I wanted to say something to you… I really, really like you… I mean, like you, not like a friend, I want you to be my lover… Because I love you.”

A smirk tugged at the corner of your lips, and Mingi’s heart skipped a beat. His brain was all mushy just from seeing your gaze focused on him and only him, and alcohol wasn’t helping at all in controlling the blush on his cheeks.

“- I like you too Mingi, and I would like to be your lover too. But we’ll talk about this when you’re sober, okay ?”

________________________________________

“- I really said that ?”

You chuckled lightly, caressing his cheeks softly, diving in his mesmerizing, hypnotizing eyes.

“- Yeah, you did. But to be honest, it was very cute. You’re very cute anyway. So, would you like to be my lover Mingi ?”

The boy in question pecked your lips, smiling too.

“that’s not even a question princess. i’ll be by your side as long as you’ll let me stay.”

JUNG WOOYOUNG - IMPULSIVE

i see him as someone very spontaneous.

if he passes by a restaurant he likes, no matter what hour it is or what he has to do, he’ll stop and eat.

if he likes someone, he’s gonna tell them.

that’s what you love about him, and that’s also probably how you met.

he was certainly doing something stupid, as always, and ran into you, making you fall on the floor.

and boom ! you were best friends forever.

he didn’t stop doing ridiculous things, on the contrary since he noticed that you’re in the same mood as him and that it’s making you laugh, he’ll be doing it even more.

but the thing is that wooyoung wants way more than being friends since the first day.

but now that he’s got you in his life, he’s a little (very) afraid of losing you.

so he’s gonna try and hide his feelings as best as he can.

but when he passed by this flower shop, and saw your favourite ones standing outside, he couldn’t help thinking of you.

and that’s how he ended up at your door, with the flowers, trying to calm himself down.

“- Woo ? What are you doing here ?

- I.. Uh… These are for you !”

He handed you the flowers, feeling a blush creeping on his cheeks as you took them hesitatingly. Wooyoung never felt so nervous in his life. Even before his first concert, even before his first fanmeeting. Even with all the stressful events he had experienced being an idol, he never got so anxious.

“- Thank you, I guess ? What are these for ? It’s not my birthday, nor anything special I think.”

You chuckled at your own words, leaving Wooyoung asking himself why he did that.

“- Don’t get me wrong ! I like them, they’re beautiful and I’m surprised you even remembered what my favourite flowers were ! But why ? I don’t understand…”

He thought about letting out all the words he kept for himself for weeks, but he just couldn’t bring himself to do it. So instead, he leaned in to kiss you. It was not even a peck : he kissed you passionately, like it was the last thing he got to do before dying. You let the flowers fall to the floor, dropping them without any regrets when you tug at Wooyoung’s hair, deepening your kiss. And his smile when you backed out for air told you everything you needed to know.

“i’ll buy you flowers everyday if it means i get to kiss you like this.”

CHOI JONGHO - TEXT

first thing first, this man’s smile could kill you and me, he’s so cute that’s got to be illegal.

the type to value your friendship so much, to the point he prefers to just be your friend than ever risking your relationship if he’s not 100% certain that your feelings are mutual.

his crush developed slowly, falling for you little by little and growing fond of you much more as time passed.

the members noticed how much he liked you when they saw that jongho lets you sleep on his shoulder whenever you are tired.

or when he willingly hugs you every time you need it.

he doesn’t like physical contact but with you, it’s natural and he sincerely appreciates it.

so careful when it comes to his feelings, because he doesn’t want to lose you or upset you.

that’s why i think he would confess through very, very long messages he’ll send late at night.

probably threw his phone away as soon as he did it, not wanting to see your response.

but that’s also why he did it : to let you choose if you wanted to respond or just ignore what he just told you.

so when you called the next day, he panicked.

“- Hi Jongho !

- H-Hi Y/N.”

At least, your tone seemed as cheerful as usually, and not upset or disappointed.

“- I must admit I was really surprised when I saw your texts when I woke up this morning. I was not expecting that at all.

- And… Is it in a bad or a good way ?”

Jongho didn’t want to pressure you, but he needed to know how you felt, needed to know if he should smile or bury himself six feet under.

“- In a good way, don’t worry.”

You clearly heard his sigh of relief, which made you both chuckle at the other end of the phone. And both of you had the biggest smile on your faces.

“- I’ll need at least two hours to even come close to a good answer and I don’t have the time right now. So just listen to that : I like you too, so much you can’t imagine. But if you’re willing to listen to my boring ramble for hours…”

“i love listening to you, I’ll never get tired of it..”

-> i don't allow any copies, reposts or translations of my works.

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magics-neptunes-things · 10 months

Text

Lucky Charm

Hi guys!

A new one with Kyra Cooney-Cross, I got sweet request for her so here it is :)

Next one will be with Leah Williamson.

Enjoy!

TW : None

This dating app thing was the worst idea. Beth told you, Lia told you, Kyra told you. Even Leah told you it was bullshit. But, stubborn and a little desperate, you decided to give this guy a chance. Plot twist, you shouldn’t have.

Contrary to what you had imagined at first, this boy seems actually interested only in the idea of returning home with you. And not to play Fifa. The remarks he tried to slip were as subtle as Katie’s two-legged tackle.

When he left to go to the bathroom, you are quick to send a message in the Arsenal's WhatsApp group.

From You Next time I don’t listen to you, please hit me hard in the head.

From Lia 🇨🇭🍫 Is he that bad?

From You Yes.

From Leah ❤️🤍 On a scale of 1 to 10?

From You 10. I NEED to get out of there.

From Alessia 🧸 What can we do to help you? Wait I’m with Kyra, we call you in 5min and answer with the speaker xx

Surprise, you frown but answer a simple ok. Your date has returned from the bathroom and is picking up the talking where he left it. It’s hard for you to care, despite all your good will. You are the type to think that there is something good in everyone, but right now you are frankly struggling.

"You marked on your profile that you are interested in women and men, right?"

"Mhm" you answer simply, carrying your soon empty glass to your lips.

"Cool. You’re not against a threesome then?"

You almost choke in your glass to this question, but you are saved from having to answer by your phone which vibrates on the table. Despite the relief of seeing « Kyra 🦘 » appear on your screen, you try to look surprised.

“Hello?”

You pick up and put the speaker on, as Alessia asked.

“Y/N?” makes Kyra’s trembling voice.

“Yes? What’s up sweety pie?”

“He…He left me.”

You stick your hand on your mouth to simulate the surprise but it's mostly used to mask your fun. Even if Kyra plays the comedy pretty good, you’re sure that she and Alessia are having a great time.

“Oh my God… You want me to pick you up? No you know what, I’m coming!”

Without taking the time to hang up, you quickly gather your things and put on your coat apologizing to your date. Which has a bitter look displayed on the face.

“I’ll call you back?” he says while trying to grab your hand

“Yeah sur”

You don’t even look at him and hurry out of the restaurant, breathing the fresh and cold London's air. The mixed laughter of Alessia and Kyra can be hear from your phone, making you smile.

"Thank you" you say, removing the speaker and putting the phone on your ear.

"You are very welcome" answers Alessia between two laughs.

"Where are you? I'll come to get you" Kyra proposes.

You hesitate two seconds before accepting. Kyra is one of the reasons you’re desperately trying to find someone. Between your breakup a few months ago and your stupid crush on her, you’re having a hard time keeping your head straight. But you finally accept her proposal and you wait for her in a parallel street, not wishing to meet your rejected suitor.

Kyra joins you on foot, which doesn’t surprise you. She likes to walk and given your Icelandic origins, you don’t mind the cold. So it's walking, hands in pockets, that you take the direction of your apartment with small talk and laughs.

A small moment of silence settles after a joke exchanged, during which you look up to the sky to watch the snow fall.

“Why did you accept this date?” Kyra abruptly asks.

You shrug and bite your bottom lip. You don’t want to make stupid excuses. Kyra knows about your break up and about you trying to find someone. Your love life always make your teammates laugh and it's so catastrophic that you laugh with them. But she doesn't know about your crush on her. You know she isn't interested in you.

"You should be with someone who appreciates you for who you are" continues Kyra. "Not someone who just want to bang you one night and leave you the day after."

"What a langage. You spend way to much time with Leah"

Kyra roll her eyes and as you turn to the next street, you both are facing small wood house with cute decoration. Christmas spirit. You love it.

"Hello there" smile the old lady, working in the stand.

"Hello" you answer with a smile, already looking at her stuff.

"These are wristband lucky charms" she explains

"Interesting. Do you have one for someone who only attracts losers?"

You shoot a glare at Kyra who got closer to the stand with a smirk. She looks at you maliciously and suddenly her body is too close to yours for you to continue to look at her in this way. So you just shift your attention to the old woman who laughed.

"Lucky charms like that are called loved ones"

She winks at Kyra and if you could have observed her better, you would have noticed the redness of her cheeks. When she takes another step to see a little better what is on the displays, her body is so close to yours that you need a few seconds to realize that you have let yourself go against her.

But Kyra says nothing, caressing one of the lucky charms with the tip of her finger.

"I like this one" she whispers thoughtfully, before resuming in a more assured voice "I'll take it, please."

In a few seconds the transaction is completed and the Australian finds herself with a small bag and her lucky charm in her hand. You say goodbye the lady and resume your way back to your apartment.

The snow continues to fall and a new silence sets in, always without being unpleasant.

"And on top of that, it was with a guy" Kyra says, your date always seems to be on her mind.

You laugh when you see her disgusted look, rolling your eyes.

"It’s okay, they’re not that bad."

"Oh please stop talking, you will succeed in convincing me to change my sexuality" laughs Kyra with sarcasm.

"It’s not exactly like I have a choice anyway" you sigh softly.

A few seconds go by before Kyra answers you.

"You are wrong"

"What?"

Her voice is so low that you can’t understand what she’s saying. Sighing, Kyra stops and crosses her arms on her chest, standing straight in front of you.

"There are people who care about you, you know. For what you are. You just need to open your eyes."

Your eyebrows are frowned and you have trouble understanding what Kyra is getting at. You’re so lost, you didn’t even realize you got to the bottom of your building.

"Close your eyes and extend your arm"

Nothing makes sense in what’s happening, but you do as Kyra’s request. You find yourself shivering stupidly when you feel her fingers touch your hand when she passes the wristband she just bought around your wrist.

"Don’t" she whispers when she realizes you’re about to open your eyes.

You realize at this moment how close she is to you, you feel her breath against your face and the heat of her body radiate towards yours. You swallow hard, but you don’t move. Your legs have become so limp that you wouldn’t be able to anyway.

You have the impression of dreaming when Kyra puts her lips on yours during the first seconds, so light is the pressure. You quickly understand that it's to let you push her away if you do not want this kiss. But she is wrong to doubt.

You get as close to her as possible and that’s what she was waiting to presses her lips harder against yours. And you’re suddenly happy to feel her arms move around your waist, or you could quickly faint. What you’re going to say is probably related to the many love stories you’ve read in your life, but you feel like your lips were made for hers. The way they marry together is a sensation you’ve never experienced before.

It's Kyra who ends the kiss first. When your eyes reopen, they meet hers, inquisitors. Snowflakes have settled in her hair and the colors of the Christmas lights color her face when she speaks again.

"I do care about you. You have no idea how much I do."

#woso x reader #woso imagine #kyra cooney cross #kyra cooney cross x reader #kyra cooney-cross imagine

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noiriarti · 2 months

Text

Just Practice: Anakin Skywalker x Reader (Modern Best Friends AU) Ch. 2

Summary: Anakin is your best friend, the one person you can't survive without, and you're about to go to different colleges. You bring up your worries about your inexperience and he offers to help.

NSFW!!!!!!! Literally so NSFW!!! TW for mentions of choking and degradation

Ch. 1, [Ch. 2], Ch. 3, Ch. 4, Bonus Chapter

Chapter 2: An Inescapable Fact

Anakin Skywalker was in love with his best friend. It was an inescapable fact, the same way that the sky was blue, and the Earth was round. Another fact was that he had made out with and practically came on his best friend. He didn't really know what he had been thinking, or if he even had been thinking, but, after he left, all he knew was that he wanted to do it again. And again. And again.

Maybe he liked it a little too much. When he walked down the front steps of your house with his mom, picked up his bike from your lawn, and dashed up to his room to "finish packing," he not-so-subtly palmed himself, his hand lingering on the front of his jeans, where you were grinding against him minutes (minutes!!!) ago. It took him all of thirty seconds to take care of it, imagining you were still on top of him. As he lay there, panting, his hand covered in cum, he wondered if you were doing the same thing. (You were, of course, but he didn't know that.) He pulled out his phone with his clean hand and typed out a message. Hey. His phone dinged less than a second later. Hey, you had sent back. Now he was left wondering what the fuck a person is supposed to say to their best friend who they're in love with and just "for practice" made out with?

That was great. No, too eager.

That was hot. No, weirdly horny.

How are you? No, too nonchalant.

I've been in love with you since seventh grade and I can't imagine life without you so please don't stop being my friend and if you want to be more I'd really enjoy that but no worries if you want to stay just friends. Jesus Christ.

We should do that again. Passable. Send.

And so he waited for you to respond. And waited. And then stood up and cleaned himself up. And packed a bit. Eventually, later in the night, his phone pinged and he dove across the room to check it, but it was a notification from Instagram that one of his teammates had sent him a post. Anakin tossed his phone back on his bed with a little bit more force than necessary, then threw more of his shirts into the open suitcase on the floor. Another hour passed, and there was still radio silence from you. He opened his texts and stared at your exchange for a bit. It was still unread.

I'm sorry. I shouldn't have done that. I crossed a line and it obviously is making you uncomfortable. I enjoyed what we did, and I'd like it to continue, if you want. If not, that's chill. I just want you to talk to me. Tell me what you're thinking, and how you're feeling, and if you still want me in your life. Please-- he drafted, stopping suddenly when he saw the Read notification pop up. He deleted the entire thing with shaking hands. What were you going to say?

Those three dots in the bubble were literal torture, he decided. Being stretched on the rack was probably easier than this horrible purgatory of not knowing whether the one person in his life who he couldn't exist without wanted to end their friendship.

Agreed, your text read. He immediately typed out a Are you okay?, which you answered with Yeah, you?. He assured you that he was, and you told him you were going to sleep for the night. Anakin finally put his phone down and asked himself what was wrong with him.

He hadn't felt this way around a girl, well, ever. In sophomore year, Padmé approached him and asked him out. He was so thrilled someone showed interest in him that he didn't think too carefully about it, but he caught feelings for her quickly. She was smart, kind, pretty. All the things a girlfriend ought to be. She made signs for his games, and kissed him with a desire he longed for. Everyone knew that she loved him, especially him. That's what made it gut-wrenching, because there was always something he was looking for that he could never find with her. Something he was missing. Little things killed them, like when she bought him cranberries and didn't know that he hated them, or when he realized her parents would never approve of him, no matter how hard he tried. He was always the captain of the soccer team who lived in the not-so-nice part of the town, where there were more cows than people, and she was always the genius debater from a house that had six bathrooms.

The first time he had sex with her, it was all hands and kisses and whispered praise. The second time, when he was less stunned by the newness of everything, he started feeling it. That wrongness. And it just didn't stop. When he said her name, the word felt foreign on his lips, like he wasn't meant to say it. Once, he brought up doing something more intense, like pulling her hair or smacking her ass, and she said she probably wouldn't enjoy it, but she'd try it anyway. She, in fact, did not enjoy it, and Anakin drove away from her house later that night in his beat-up Toyota feeling like a monster. Everything was just a little off between them. All his fantasies, all his conceptions of how a girlfriend and sex should be were based on how he imagined you would act. He'd know about your sweet tooth and give you the frosting off his cupcake, and you'd give him the pickles off your burger. With Padmé, nothing fit just right, it was a little off. In another world, he thought that he could have choked it down, married her. Had a happy life in a suburb somewhere. She would have loved it.

He found himself responding to her texts slowly, and kept trying to bring himself back to their dates when he zoned out. It didn't work, and, after a teary, bittersweet goodbye eight months after they dated, he was single again. When Padmé got into Harvard in her senior year, his junior year, he congratulated her, and she hugged him, and he knew that they were okay. Maybe he didn't ever really get to know all of Padmé's nooks and crannies because he didn't feel the urge to. With you, it was practically pathological. He hungered for every photo of you, every glance that you threw him.

Now that he had kissed you, finally giving in to his stupid desires, he knew, with certainty, that this was love. Not a childish crush, not a teenage boy's lust, but love. (And also lust, but that was secondary.) As he fell asleep that night, he decided to tell you that just thinking of you was setting his heart racing now, that he wanted nothing more than to be yours. He'd just do it when he visited you.

When he loaded his whole life (three suitcases, it turned out) into the back of the massive van your parents had rented, he realized you hadn't seen you this morning yet. Your parents were setting up the front, arguing over which highway to take. Why did it matter? There were four hours until the flight. Your parents had pulled out two of your five suitcases, which Anakin dutifully loaded into the back next to his own luggage. You must have packed a whole rack of weights inside them, leaving Anakin sweating after stuffing the trunk. The pom poms you had made for both of your suitcases (an early going away present, you had said, which made his heart constrict and ache) were laid down like ducks in a row. As your mother emerged with the remaining three suitcases, probably even heavier than the first two, he thanked his lucky stars Coach made them do so much conditioning. That, and the away games gave him practice at waking up at the ass-crack of dawn, a skill that came in useful today.

You weren't a morning person, which he knew, so your absence wasn't a shock, but you coming out of the house looking perfectly awake was. Anakin watched you cast one last look at your house, memorizing its grooves like you didn't already know them by heart, before you turned your gaze to him. Your eyes met, and he instantly looked away. Fuck, you looked pretty this morning. You walked up to him, and he noticed the faintest trace of makeup around your eyes.

"You look nice," he blurted out once you walked up to him. He cursed himself. When had he become so awkward around you?

"Thanks," you said as you smiled back at him. Like nothing had ever happened, like he hadn't kissed your neck eight short hours ago. So it probably meant less to you than it did to him. The cool early morning air soothed the sting of that idea. You climbed into the backseat, wedging yourself in between the various backpacks and Anakin's seat. When he buckled himself in, your thighs were pressed together, just like last night. Anakin's hand itched to bring your legs over his, to grab your knee and kiss you again. But he wasn't going to.

The car ride was calming, only an hour to the airport, and you were the only car on the road. In the dark, early morning, you had fallen asleep almost instantly. Your parents had lapsed into silence, and he was supposed to be only torn up about leaving his mom, but he kept getting distracted by the way your head lolled around the headrest. Eventually, your head fell into the space between you, resting at an angle Anakin thought would need a chiropractor to fix. So, he did what any best friend would. He gently guided your head to his shoulder. It must have been more comfortable for you that way, anyway. He couldn't sleep, hyperaware of your every movement like he had never been before. Heart fluttering and hands antsy, Anakin managed to survive the drive. Once you got to the airport, and your parents called your name, you jolted up, and he missed you immediately. If he thought separating before would be hard, he had fucked up last night and made it a thousand times worse. Not that he regretted it, really.

The five of you made it through check-in (another lifting of the bags, which broke him into a sweat he hoped looked rugged and not gross) and security (where every single one of his bags was pulled aside because he was carrying some of his projects, which, okay, did have a lot of wires and chips in them, but he was an engineer, dammit, not a bomber). By the time you had dragged yourselves to the gate, the sun had risen. Your flight was first, straight to LaGuardia, then Anakin and Shmi would get on the plane to Ithaca just an hour later. You still had two hours until the flight, which the two of you spent in McDonalds getting one last Icee (cherry for Anakin, blue raspberry for you), drinking it until Anakin's stomach hurt from the sugar. It was like the previous night never happened, and neither of you mentioned it, dodging the topic and filling every silent moment with some comment about a tourist dropping all their bags or some mom with a child on a leash. When the first boarding call came from your gate, only ten seconds' walk away from your current perch next to some chargers on a wall, he knew your parents would want you back soon. He only had a minute, and you sensed it too. The sun was rising, casting its sleepy shine through the windows of the terminal and lighting up a halo of frizz around your head. You were beautiful, he thought. He pulled you into a crushing hug.

"Thank you for being my best friend. Promise you won't forget me?" You whispered to him while still in his bear hug. The tiny voice you used, the fear that question hid were too much for him. He pulled you in tighter, until he could barely breathe.

"I could never. I'll be your best friend forever," he affirmed. Because that's what you were, above all else. Friends. Anakin had to preserve that, and he wavered on the decision to tell you about his feelings. Your friendship came first. When he walked you back to your gate, the last he saw of you was when you turned back to look at him right before walking through the gangway to your plane. It reminded him of the way you looked at your house before you left, a gesture of love and loyalty. Then you were gone, and he missed you instantly.

Another hour in the airport was dreadfully boring without you, it turned out, and the five hour plane ride was even worse. By the time they landed, Anakin was practically ready to jump out of the emergency exit, just for the entertainment of it. Everything he did was tinged with the slightest bit of disinterest. The book he packed, The Art of Electronics, proved to be dreadfully dull, and his phone was similar. There was only one person he wanted to hear from.

When they landed in Ithaca's airport, Anakin and Shmi loaded into a taxi and drove off to his dorm, which was comfortingly close. Just a hop away, then he could be home. The room itself, when entered, smelled damp and stale but at least looked clean. He and Ben, his slightly older roommate who played professionally in leagues in the UK before coming to college, got on like fire and tall grass, and Shmi practically had to keep reminding them that they, indeed, needed to unpack.

Around five, he shot you a text.

Anakin: How's your room?

You: Nice, big! Here's a pic

You sent a picture

You: I finally met Ahsoka IRL, and she's just as nice as I thought she'd be!

You: I really like hanging out with her and her girlfriend Barriss

You: What about you?

Anakin: It's good, me and Ben, who's also on the soccer team

Anakin: lmfao that looks tiny

Anakin: We have a common room

Anakin: Feast your eyes

Anakin sent a picture

You: Jesus how have you managed to make it gross already

Anakin: It's not gross

Anakin: The Nicki Minaj American flag is camp

Anakin: And we only need two chairs for the TV

You: Two folding chairs in the middle of the room and nothing else on the walls is unhinged

Anakin: Unfriended

He smiled and set his phone down. Things were back to normal. Now, all he had to do to finish move-in was get thoroughly drunk with his new teammates.

You kept in contact with one another, sending cute squirrels (Anakin) and rats (you) that crossed your paths, or updating each other on your classes. Two weeks in the semester, Anakin finally felt brave enough to ask you. He was sitting on his newly-acquired couch, which you had bullied him into buying off of Facebook Marketplace. It was dingy, and had several stains that made him wonder if it was a crime scene, but it was cheap, and that was what mattered.

Anakin: Hey, can I come over this weekend?

You: Please. I'm going crazy here without you.

Anakin: Can I crash on your floor then?

You: I mean, if you're coming, we could practice a bit more, so you wouldn't have to use the floor

Anakin: That sounds amazing. What do you want to do?

You: I don't know. What do you want to do?

Anakin: I asked first

You: lol idk. It's just weird to talk about this with you

You: Not that I don't enjoy it, or want it. Just still feels weird.

Anakin: I get that, for me too.

You: I don't know if I'm ready to be idk, naked? I guess?

You: But I want to do more

You: I think I want to try giving head

Anakin: You don't have to do anything you don't want to

Anakin: I'd enjoy that a lot

You: g2g to class ttyl

Ben wasn't home, thank God, or else he could have walked in on Anakin stroking himself in the living room like a pervert. The image of your lips around him was too much to resist, even for the second it took him to get up and walk to his room. While fucking his fist, the fantasy escalated. Him fucking your throat harshly, feeling you gag on it. Him using your hair to drag your mouth up and down his cock while your hands were tied behind you. Once he came, he started feeling guilty about imagining you in such a rough situation. Anakin had no idea if you even wanted that, and he vowed to let you take the lead as much as possible. He also felt guilty about leaving another teeny tiny stain on the already suspicious couch when some cum dribbled down his hand, but it kind of blended in.

On Tuesday, he left his electrical engineering course when he got a text that stopped him in the middle of the hall.

You: Hey

You: So I am going to a sex store for the first time today

Anakin: Hey

Anakin: Wow ok exploring nyc

You: Should I get anything for this weekend?

Anakin: Idk, up to you

Anakin: Just choose whatever you want to try

You: ok i will pull up with a massive horse dildo for u then king

You: But seriously, I want to make it enjoyable for you too.

You: Do you have any requests for like outfits or something?

Anakin: fuck all the way off

Anakin: What? Like, shirts?

You: No

Anakin: Oh

Anakin: Whatever makes you feel good

You: But cmon you've got to have a pereference

You: *preference

Anakin: pereference

Anakin: I don't have a pereference

Anakin: You could say I don't perefer anything

You: Fuck off

You: Answer the question motherfucker

Anakin: Idk maybe black lace? Whatever makes you happy

Anakin: I've always wanted to rip fishnets, if that's something you want

You: Sounds like a plan

He liked the message and slipped his phone in his pocket as he bounced over to the student lab, ready to finish the Arduino gadget he was making for class. You in a lacy set sounded like a dream come true, mainly because he was almost certain he had that exact wet dream last year.

The four ensuing days allowed Anakin to think, for once, which was never a good idea. It grew new doubts to stress over. Had he accidentally pushed the idea of fishnets on you? What if you weren't into the stuff he was into, or if you decided you weren't into him enough to be able to do anything further with him, now that the horny initial haze had dwindled? He was considering this again while on the train, watching the upstate countryside roll by. Sometimes it was close enough to Minnesota that he felt like he was home, so he shot his mom a text saying he missed her, and that he'd call her tomorrow. He also had two unread texts from you.

You: Hey!! When you arrive just text me and I'll grab you

You: I'm excited to see you

Anakin: Hey

Anakin: I'm excited to see you too

Anakin: Lots of stories to share

Before he could think better of it, he typed out something he hoped would dull the constant questioning in his mind.

Anakin: Oh

Anakin: Also

Anakin: I feel kinda bad for bringing up something only I'm interested in the last time we talked about me coming over

Anakin: This should be about you

You: Takes two to tango, as they say

Anakin: Never say that again

You: I will say it again

Anakin: Shut up I'm trying to be serious

You: I'm saying that I'm interested in that sort of stuff

You: When I was at the store there were a bunch of things I wanted to try

You: Like wax and ropes

Anakin: Kinky

And, now, the question he had been nervous to ask, or even to think about.

Anakin: Do you want to try them on me, or for me to try them on you?

You: Definitely you doing that to me

You: I've been doing research

You: There's a lot of stuff I want to try, if you want to practice with me

Anakin: Fuck that sounds fun

Anakin: Like what?

Was he letting his cards show too much? Maybe. It just felt too good not to ask.

You: Degradation, overstim, just idk. Rough in general

You: Down the road maybe rope

Anakin: Damn ok 50 shades of grey

Anakin: You have been doing your research

Anakin: That all sounds good to me, as long as it's good for you

Anakin: I can't wait to get there

The rush of excitement he felt at the idea of tying you up and fucking you until you screamed drowned out the notes he was meant to be reviewing in front of him, and the circuit diagram he was supposed to draw.

He thought of you splayed out in front of him, covering those slutty lace panties in your juice until it soaked through the other side. He thought about his hand on your neck as you begged him to cum. And--fuck--you gagging on your knees as he thrust into your throat. He was hard--again.

But he had to remember what he was coming here to do, really. To tell you how he felt. He pulled out the piece of paper he had spent the past two weeks writing and rewriting in his mind as he did dribbling drills and soldered wires. There were four drafts in his desk, written out and crumpled into the back of the drawers, because he knew that one look at you in your room, giving him those desperate eyes, would wipe him blank of anything except how much he wanted you. After how platonic you were at the airport, he wasn't sure if he should say anything, because the distance over the next four years would make it so hard to be together, and you hadn't ever talked about long distance. Now, he looked at the paper and didn't know what to think. Did he really want to say words as big as "I love you" so quickly, so soon? The doubt plagued him as he looked over the final version of the letter, which was suddenly sappy and childish.

Since we were kids, I've considered you my closest friend. Someone who made me *me*. I started listening to Fall Out Boy because you did, I peel bananas upside down because you showed me how, and I only eat pepperoni pizza with olives and mushrooms because you've ordered it so much that it grew on me. I treasure you your friendship so much, and those feelings have been changing since we were younger to something more romantic. I don't know when it started, but when we kissed, I knew I loved--

He looked away. Why was he using the word love? He didn't know if you two would even work romantically. What if you went on a date and it felt just like your regular dynamic? What if he was a bad boyfriend, like he was to Padmé, and you didn't want him anymore? Was he about to throw years of your trust away?

He wasn't sure whether to tell you, at all. Anakin just wanted to know if you felt the same way about him, or else he'd lose more than just his pride. He had to give it more time. And, until then, this was all practice anyway. (He was really, really good at lying to himself.) He folded the paper precisely, and stuck it in his pocket. Just in case.

The train slowed with a screeching that rung his ears and arrived at Grand Central. From the moment he left the train, the station was packed with people. Everything was buzzing, from the voices shouting over each other to the side of his arm where someone smacked into him. The air was stale and warm from the bodies, which moved in completely unpredictable patterns through the vast space. If he was this overwhelmed, how were you faring in the city? He made his way to the subway station just a few blocks across midtown, then got on the 1, which was surprisingly clean based on everything he had heard about New York. Anakin half expected to be pickpocketed and to see rats on the trains, but the plastic yellow and red seats playfully shined at him, clean and inviting.

Before long, he found himself on Columbia's campus at sunset, walking through the buildings which all looked a little bit too similar to find your dorm. Carman Hall, there it was. Anakin texted you that he was outside and steadied his nerves. He would finally get to see you again. Hug you again. Kiss you again, a part of his brain that he dutifully shoved into a dark corner said.

Three minutes passed--he was looking at his phone clock for every one of the--and then the entrance clicked open. There you were. You looked amazing, and city life clearly agreed with you. You were wearing a simple denim skirt and green shirt, but you looked incredible. You had added a few ear cuffs, glinting in the dwindling sunlight, which cast your skin in a warm glow.

"Hey," he said into your temple as he crushed you back, "You look--wow." He pulled away and grabbed your shoulders, examining if you were still the person he knew. You were, he determined when you beamed at him. Your hand was still the same as he remembered when you flashed an ID badge, featuring a photo he had taken against a wall in your house, at the bored-looking security guard, who just waved you two by.

Anakin had just started telling you about how one of the midfielders, Rex, kicked the ball directly in the coach's crotch, when the elevator doors opened on the sixth floor, and he followed you down a winding hallway full of nameplates, whiteboards, and decorations. One room had construction paper black cats and pumpkins all over the door, which made him stop and smile. You stopped in front of a door that had fake leaves stuck to it, making it look like a tree was dropping paper leaves onto the floor. You unlocked the door, which groaned as it opened to show exactly the room you had sent him photos of, but with significantly more clutter on your desk.

"Welcome! This is my humble abode!" On the other side of the room, the girl sitting on her bed, cast him a withering glance. She had wide, doe-like eyes that he was sure probably hid a lot of mischief. Her hair was styled in twists she had gathered into pigtails that tumbled over her shoulders, with a string of beads woven into the crown of her head.

"This must be Jake," the woman he presumed to be Ahsoka said, scrutinizing him with her piercing eyes. Jake? Who the fuck is Jake? Anakin wondered as he tried to read your reaction. You spluttered, obviously not ready to have that piece of information revealed yet.

"No, no, this is Anakin! From home!" You put on a strained smile in an attempt to salvage the situation.

"So, you're not dating?" Ahsoka quirked up one eyebrow, not buying for one second that whatever she was seeing in front of her was platonic.

"No, not at all. I could never date him, he's my best friend!" You said too loudly, forcing the words out. Perfect. Just perfect. That solidified his decision. If you were friendzoning him this hard, and you were obviously trying to practice for this Jake guy's sake, then there wasn't any point in what he was going to say. The paper in his pocket was so easy to crush under his fingers, he almost wished he had done it sooner. It was stupid, anyway. This wasn't anything more than two people exploring new things. His feelings would pass, eventually.

Ahsoka shrugged and hugged you goodbye after she slipped off the bed and grabbed an overnight bag. She left, presumably for Barriss's room, and closed the door behind her.

In the silence left in the room, the words were on the tip of his tongue. Who's Jake?, he would ask nonchalantly. Like it didn't matter. Anakin stopped himself. It wouldn't do him any good to know more. Instead, he kept recounting the story of Rex making the whole team run sprints for the day with his crazy aim, albeit with less enthusiasm. In return, you told him about the suck-up in your Intro to Psychology course, who gushed to the professor that he loved his work and was his biggest fan. It was literally a 101 class, what was he trying to prove?

Anakin's pack lay forgotten by the door as you two recounted your weeks to one another, and for a moment it didn't feel like a new city, it just felt like home. He didn't even realize that it was night until you pointed it out, mentioning that you missed the stars that you could see from your yard. And the fireflies. But the city lights twinkled nicely enough that he couldn't see a difference. You lapsed into silence, watching students walk out onto the street as stores pulled down their shutter doors. The bed was to your left as you stood watching the window, and your eyes glanced to it.

"So, um. Want to watch some Netflix?" You said in your best approximation of a sexy voice, turning to your right and looking up at him in a way that you hoped was seductive. Anakin looked at your face and burst out laughing.

"If you want to do stuff, just ask!" He raised the pitch of his voice, imitating yours as he bit his lip fake-sexily. "Netflix and chill?" You grabbed one of the copious pillows on your bed and hit him with it. He caught it immediately and lobbed it back at your head, but you ducked at the last possible moment, so it hit the bed with a thump.

"Missed!" You giggled. That sweet laughter would be the death of him. When you caught your breath, the sweet smile he had stole your breath.

"Um, do you want to... practice?" You asked. In truth, you wanted him, badly. Your eyes flitted down to his lips, which he immediately noticed and took as his cue to use the last of his willpower to make sure you were okay with this before kissing you silly, and hopefully doing more. Much more. He stepped closer to you, drawing you in with his arms around your waist.

"Just so that I'm perfectly clear. You don't have to do anything that makes you feel the slightest bit weird. We don't have to do anything now, at all. Or ever, if that's what you want," he said huskily.

"No, I do want this," you whispered, nodding and leaning in so that you were nearly touching noses, "I want you down my throat." Fuck. There went his self-control. He crushed his lips into yours, the softness of the previous time eclipsed by the need in both of you that had been building in between texts for the weeks you had been apart.

No. You had to talk this through. He had to know that you understood what you were getting into. Anakin pulled away, even though it killed him.

"We should talk more. No touching until we're done talking," he said, holding his hands up to prove that he was serious.

"Fine. But you're going to break first. I'd bet anything." You also held your hands up, defiant as ever. He was seized with the urge to make you obey him, and quieted it down as much as he could.

"Fine. I'll take that deal. Just, let's talk first. You said that you wanted to try rougher stuff, and I don't want to do that before I'm certain I don't cross a boundary," he said. He thought of himself last year, the guilt over Padmé.

"What boundaries could you possibly cross? I'm asking you to be rough." Anakin was still worried.

"Yes, but it's your first time giving head. I don't want to make it uncomfortable. Or, if I cross a line and can't tell... I just want to keep you safe. How about you tap me twice for good to go, three times for slow down, and four times for stop?" You nodded, giving him those same big eyes that made him want to absolutely ravish you. The time between you stretched, turning pliant and gooey as he searched your eyes for uncertainty. "Show me," he purred. He had poured some of the commanding tone into it that he wanted so desperately to use. You obediently tapped out the sequence on his arm, and he tossed you a smirk.

"Okay. First of all, I won. You touched me first," he said, enjoying the way you were about to fight him on it, "And, second of all, shut up and kiss me." And you did.

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

AN: Oh we are getting raunchy in the next chapter buddies!!!

Tag List (message me or reply if you'd like to be added!): @akixxrafiiy

#anakin skywalker #star wars anakin #anakin x reader #anakin smut #anakin x you #anakin skywalker x reader #anakin skywalker/you #anakin/you #anakin skywalker smut #anakin skywalker fanfiction #anakin skywalker imagine #anakin skywalker x you #star wars prequels

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ch0k3herwithaseaview · 5 months

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@jegulus-microfic | april 12 Amortentia | words: 683

DARLING, GUESS WHO’S BACK FROM JAIL (not jail but a hospital, same thing really). I missed writing and maybe some of you missed me so here’s a cute one. enjoy;3

tw: alleged poisoning, swearing

"Have you seen that green shirt Regulus wore to the party last week? He looked so beautiful in it,” James mused, laying down on the floor next to Remus’ bed. “And his hair, oh Merlin, his hair...”

“What the fuck, Prongs?” Sirius snapped at him, sitting straight on Mooney’s bed. Oh, right, he forgot his best friend was in the room.

James looked at Remus, a bit terrified, hoping the tall boy would come up with something to save his ass. With the smirk Remus gave him, James knew he was doomed.

“Oh boy, are you okay, James?” The taller boy asked with feigned concern. “Pads, I think someone poisoned him.”

At the comment, Sirius’ face turned from pissed to concerned.

“What? With what?” he started, running to James to check on him.

Remus hummed, looking at the two of them with a mean grin.

“Some Slytherin must’ve added amortentia to his tea in revenge for the last prank,” he said, acting as if he were terrified. “We should take him to Slughorn; he probably has an antidotum.” With that, Sirius picked James up and led him out of their dormitory.

Padfoot looked determined to help him as they walked to the dungeons, while Remus kept sending him amused glances. In response, James just farrowed his eyebrows, mouthing you’re dead to his friend.

When they finally reached the potions professor’s room, Sirius started banging on them like a madman. Not even ten seconds into it, the door opened.

“What are you doing here?” Regulus asked, looking at all three of them. James could see his eyes softening as they reached his own, and he smiled gently at Regulus, the younger boy's cheeks turning slightly pink.

“What are you doing here?” Sirius asked, reminding James of his presence.

“Well, I’m brewing a potion,” Regulus started. “But you still didn’t answer my question.”

Sirius frowned at his brother, and he pointed at James. “Can you see him? He’s looking at you like you’re the world’s eighth wonder; somebody poisoned him with amortentia!”

Regulus and James locked eyes again, the younger boy smirking this time.

"Oh, really?” he started, still looking at James. “What gave you the idea?”

“Well,” Sirius began, “he started rumbling about how pretty you looked last week, and how he likes your hair, and other shit like that!” That was just Sirius being dramatic, but Regulus seemed more pleased with every word. “Is Slughorn here? We need to fix him right now!”

Regulus shook his head, turning to face his brother. “He went to Madam Pomfrey; he should be back soon," he said with a pause. “But maybe you should go back to the dorm; it's almost curfew. I’ll take care of that moron.”

James looked at Remus with pleading eyes, hoping this time his friend would actually help him. Thankfully, Moony seemed like he had enough of torturing him for one evening.

He grabbed Sirius’ shoulder, turning him so they stood face-to-face. “He’ll be fine, honey,” Remus said gently, leaning closer to Sirius’ ear. As the black-haired boy’s eyes widened, James assumed the two of them would be taking advantage of the free dormitory. Good for them, James thought. Just don’t destroy the room. Again.

“If he starts being insufferable, give him a sleeping drought or bind him; I don’t care. Just... be safe,” Sirius said to his brother, getting a dismissive yeah, yeah in response.

As the two Gryffindors left them, Regulus pushed James into the room, slamming the door behind them.

“So, amortentia, huh?” Regulus asked with a teasing smile, putting his hands on James’ chest. The older boy grabbed him by the waist, pulling him closer.

“Yeah,” he began, rubbing his hands up and down Regulus’ sides. “I think Barty wanted to get back at me for turning custard creams into Canary Creams.”

“Perhaps yes,” Regulus said, nuzzling at James’ jaw. “And you think I’m pretty? Evan must’ve helped him with the potion if you talked so nicely about me,” James chuckled as the younger boy grabbed him by the neck and pulled him down for a kiss.

#jegulus #dead gay wizards #starchaser #james potter #james x regulus #regulus black #jegulus microfic #marauders #the marauders #hogwarts au #amortentia #sirius black #remus lupin #1k words or less #by: allyeardepression

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the-witch-of-one-piece · 9 months

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Secrets Kept From Him Chapter 8: His Comfort Ran x F!Reader x Draken WC:5600+k Resident: @enchantedforest-network Synopsis: Waking up in a bed you weren't familiar with you in Ran's home. Trying to process all the events of last night, you are forced to stay in his home until the mess is cleared out. Ending up with you both going to his club to get your mind off what had happened you are face to face with the heiress Ms. Yamaguchi and she isn't too keen on you so close to Ran. The confrontation between you and her would escalate quickly causing Ran to remove you from the scene in that private moment of his comfort will it lead to more than just comfort? Will a certain pair of eyes send chills down your spine of someone from the club? TW: cussing, drinking, smoking, mentions of stalking, mentions of weapons, threatening, vaginal sex, masturbation, making out, multiple creampies, shower sex, desk sex, dirty talking, nicknames (pretty girl, baby girl, my queen) Possessive behavior, mentions of cheating.

MINORS DNI 18+

“Mommy wake up.” you heard your daughter's voice. Her tiny hands against your face. Your eyes began to adjust to the slightly dark room. You saw your daughter's violet eyes looking back at you. You sat up quickly all you could remember was blacking out last night, realizing you were in a bedroom you hadn’t been in before. Looking around just by the decor and the scent that lingers in the room it was Ran’s room.

You looked at your daughter who was next to you. “You okay sweetie?” She nodded “Mhmm. Where are we?” she asked. She remembers falling asleep at her aunt's home but waking up in a strange bed next to her mom.

“At your dad's home…” After a few minutes of being in bed, you both got up. Walking out of the room to find Ran and Rindou up. “Good morning you two.” Ran's voice spoke.

“Mornin..” You said. “Good morning.” D/n walked towards Ran who picked her up kissing the side of her temple.

“How did you sleep?” he asked.

“Okay..” d/n was a bit more quiet than he was used to. Ran had a feeling it could have been due to what happened yesterday.

“I know it's not a girl's room you slept in but I think we can arrange something in one of the other rooms for you.” giving her a comforting smile. Ran looked at you, the brief look into his eyes quickly averting his eyes away from his. Flashbacks from last night played in your mind. Rindou could sense the awkward tension between you and Ran. “Oi d/n let’s go down the street to get breakfast.”

“What about mommy and daddy?” she asked. “They need to take care of some things. They should be fine by the time we get back.” Your daughter looked over at you. Right now you were a bit on the edge about letting her go due to the incident last night. But you Rindou know he would be able to take care of her. “It -it’s fine, let me just go get her dressed.” After getting her dress and fixing her hair she met her uncle at the door. Ran kneeled down and gave her a hug and a kiss. “Be good for your uncle now okay?” She nodded agreeing you also gave her a big hug. You watch them exit the door and enter the elevator. Ran closed the door wearing a loose-fitted long sleeve, his hand reached for the back of the neck. “Doll…” starting off “How are you right now?” he asked you bit concerned from your passing out last night. “I’m okay…” softly speaking as you responded.

“Listen… Last night, well yesterday in general was bad… I don’t want to fight with you… that’s the last thing I want to happen between me and you.” Letting out a sigh you rubbed your face. You didn’t want to fight with him either. Apart of you could have been understanding what he may have been feeling just finding out that you slept with Draken. You were feeling that hint of jealousy last night when running into that woman from the club. Just putting a voice to a face still mind-boggled you why Ran wanted you still and not this woman.

“I know it was just overall not the best day… Look, I don't wanna burden you, me and d/n are going to stay with my aunt for a few days.” Ran shook his head “You can’t do that..” Cocking your brow “why not?” “Because of the person that entered your home…If he was able to get in your home that easily without you knowing he can do it again… That also means he knows your routine and where you go.” Ran walked to the couch taking a seat. “What do you have Ran. Don’t lie to me.” “There was a deal that went south a few years ago. Some stock supplies went missing that are worth a large chunk of money. They were never able to locate the missing supplies and I figured they would sneak their way to try and get it.” How he made it sound was so simple. “Ran, just give it to them. If you have it so they can leave us alone.” “The supplies are all the way in the Osaka warehouse we have. It will take a few days to get them here..” reaching into his pocket and pulled out a cigarette. “In the meantime, you and d/n have to stay here. They know better than to enter my property. I can’t let you both go anywhere unless it is with me or Rindou.”

Trying not to roll your eyes, maybe a part of him sounded so nonchalant as he spoke. “How long is a few days?”

“A week why in a rush to see someone?” Slightly shaking his head exhaling his cigarette.

A week in a place with Ran for 24hrs… “don’t go there, Ran.”

That was a dare to him in his next words of choice. “Fuck it I am. Why try to leave so soon? Is it you dont wanna be bothered by me? Or is it because of someone you fucked recently and think you are falling for them when in reality it was a desperation to be fucked?” He asked not holding back

“Why are you so concerned about what I do? I’m surprised to not see that girl from last night here with her. She seems more up your alley now…” you were playing with fire.

Ran stood quiet “I’m concerned who you bring around MY daughter. The well-being of her safety along with yours. Just do me the favor and stay here till the shipment comes. When they get their stuff you can go back home.”

“Fine”

“We will head to the house to pick up some more items for you and d/n.” Ran called Rindou letting him know you both would be home for about an hour. That escalated quicker than it needed between you both.

Rindou on the other hand hung up the phone he was sitting in the diner with d/n. His niece sat on a booster chair in front of her with a cup of juice. “Your mom and dad are going to your house.”

Her eyes widen “But what about the monster? Is he there?” She spoke in a feared tone. Rindou saw the expression on her face. He didn’t want her to be frightened.

“No no, he is gone.” He reassured her. “Your dad is with your mom. He will protect her,”

“Uncle Rin is mommy and daddy mad at each other?” She asked him. She remembered hearing them argue yesterday.

Rindou didn’t know how to respond, “it was a disagreement. But it’s nothing you should worry about. They can’t get mad at each other for so long. They end up making up every single time. Have you ever heard of what a drama queen is?” “When something small happens and someone makes it bigger?” she asked to understand the term. “Yeah something like that but both of your parents are drama queens.” he took a drink of his coffee. “Daddy is a drama queen because he had pigtails before so he is not a drama king?” He slightly choked on his coffee wanting to laugh but he kept his composure. “Yeah, he is a Drama queen.” The food came for both of them. He was cutting her pancakes up. Rindou looked at his niece once more “Kiddo I have a question.” “Yes?” she spoke as he placed her food in front of her, placing a fork full of pancakes in her mouth. “Do you remember where the man came from?” he asked She stopped chewing and looked at her uncle. She finished chewing her food before she said “I went to grab my toys from the closet and he was there. He told me to be quiet and ask me to call my mommy. When getting into the car to leave the house….. Mommy took me to Aunty’s home… When it was time for bed I couldn’t sleep. I looked out the window. It was the same black car that followed me and Mommy.” Rindou had a view of the outside window “Do you see the same car right now?” She looked out the window and she was looking at all the cars on the street and the small parking area. “No, I don’t see it.”

~~~~~~~~

Arriving at your home you felt anxious about possibly seeing the man there. Ran entered the home first doing a walk-through before you went in making sure it was safe. “Grab what you need..” Ran began looking for possible break-in spots that would have let the person in the home. He began to check the locks to see if they were picking the windows throughout the house. When he saw the glass window sliding door lock scratched up. He found the way the person entered the home. Opening the back door he took a step outside just observing if something seemed out of the ordinary.

In your room, you began to back some items when your phone rang. It was Draken when picking up your phone. “Hey,” you said a happy yet with sadden tone

“Hey you okay?” he noticed your tone was off. “Something happened last night and..” “What did he do?” Draken dropped the wrench in his toolbox adjusting the phone to his ear. “Someone broke in last night and… I can’t stay in my house right now… I can’t go into full detail about it.” “Wait what? Why didn’t you call me? I would have been there?” Draken walked out of the garage. “Is it the same people following you?” “Yeah… apparently they know Ran and I can’t stay at home until whatever they need to recover from him…” Draken let out a sigh. “But you and d/n are alright?” he asked.

“Yeah, we are fine... I have to stay with Ran for a few days until it gets all cleared.”

Hearing this Draken was a little displeased he didn't want you staying over there with someone who just found out you both slept together. “Look why don’t you and d/n just stay with me until it gets cleared. After everything yesterday, do you think it is best to stay with him?” “Draken whoever was in my home threatened me and d/n…Ran told me these people are not a joke” Remembering the man's words from yesterday was making you feel anxious. “I-I don’t want more people involved in this mess. I agreed me and d/n to stay with him. D/n also found out Ran is her father. She doesn’t want to be apart from him…”

He let out a sigh. “_________ if it doesn't work out over there let me know and I will have you and d/n stay with me.” Closing your eyes for a moment “Alright… I will try and meet you sometime this week, okay? I will explain everything more when I get more info.”

“Okay just call me still if you need something.”

Hanging up the phone you finished packing your items before walking into your daughter's room to pack some items. Ran came back into the home once again he locked the door before going upstairs. He saw you packing some items in the d/n room and putting them in a bag. “They came in through the back door. If you want I can have people come over and install cameras on the outside of the perimeters.” You nodded at him “Yeah I just can’t have something like this happen again. You're calling to have the shipments delivered right?”

“Yeah I will have to wait for Rin to confirm everything then all we have to do is wait. I promise it will be done.”

When getting back to his home Rin and d/n were there. As the day went on the sun began to set. You could see your daughter looked a bit sad taking a seat with her on the couch while Rin and Ran were in the other room talking. They were trying to figure out a shipment way to get the items back here to Japan. You and Ran didn’t do a lot of talking to one another while being under the same roof. “Everything okay d/n?”

She nodded “Mommy, are you still mad at daddy?” “Why do you ask?” “Because you aren’t talking a lot to him anymore…” She observed the minimal talking you and Ran had since being here. “I don’t want you guys mad at each other…” She wanted to see her parents get along.

When Rin and Ran came out they could see D/n and you talking. When she saw her dad “Daddy say sorry to mommy.”

Ran was surprised by his daughter's request. “What?”

“Mommy say sorry to daddy.”

“Hmmm?” you blinked your eyes at her. Then both you and Ran looked at one another.

“She is saying both of you stop acting like drama queens and say sorry to one another. I mean you will be around one another for a while and it will be awkward for you both not to be talking.” Rin said, making his way to the couch. “Sorry..” you both said at the exact same time. When you both looked at each other d/n looked at her uncle who sat on the other couch he gave her a secret thumbs up. Maybe Rin had some tricks up his own sleeves on how to get this ball going for you both. “As congrats you both made up have ________ take my spot tonight at the club.” “Wait what?” you looked over at Rin. Ran was a bit confused about his brother's action. “I can’t leave d/n” “I got her, you can’t go out by yourself if they are following you... other than barging in yesterday into the club you didn’t get to experience what it's like to enjoy the atmosphere in there,” Rin said.

“Yeah, Mommy you should go!” D/n seemed to back Rin up on his suggestion. Squinting your eyes at Rin who seemed careless about the death glare you gave him. “Daddy would want to take you, right daddy?” Ran couldn’t help but smile at his daughter's request. “Of course.” “I don’t have anything to wear for that.” trying to make an excuse. “Actually you do…” Ran walked out of the living room to his room. You saw a white garment rack cover in Rans's hand along with a shoe box. “I held onto it, I don't know why...But it was an anniversary gift years back you never got the chance to open...” Opening the garment rack to find a deep maroon-colored dress with the tag on it and a pair of laced heels to match it…You couldn’t even make an excuse now that you have an outfit… just seeing how he kept this item you felt like you needed to go now. After agreeing it would take both you and Ran some time to get ready. D/n walked towards her uncle taking a seat next to him. “You did good kiddo, told you they would go out.” “It worked! So does it mean it's a real date?” d/n she asked.

“Yeah you can consider it a date for them,” Rin said. A part of Rin wanted to see you both back together because you guys ending up with anyone else didn’t make sense to him when he saw there was still underlying love for one another. He just gave the push and with the help of his niece, it worked.

After finishing getting ready it was about 8:30pm, walking out of the guest room Ran was just leaving his room. ‘She still takes my breath away.’ ran said to himself. “Lovely as alway,” he said out loud walking towards you. He always looked good in a suit you had to admit. “You look good too.” Giving him a small smile.

Rin didn’t live too far; he had a small backpack ready for d/n. Both of you gave her a hug before seeing them drive off. Getting into Ran's car he made his way to the club. Ran was hoping tonight would try to ease the tension off of the both of you.

Ran opened your car door for you. The blazing music coming from the club and the line of people trying to get in. The amount of attention locked on you and Ran as you both walked in as a pair into the club. Feeling the girl's eyes burning at your back as you walked in with Ran. You don’t even wanna count the possibility of how many he has already slept with. Trying to continue to follow Ran you didn’t want to get lost in the crowd you held onto his arm slithering through the crowd. Making your way to the VIP area you can see some of the high rollers greeted Ran. Seeing how some of them began to look at you, your outfit making you feel like you were some type of object. The sudden feel of Ran’s arms sliding around your waist. “You're fine. I got you.” he leaned into your ear.

He took a seat in his favorite area and the waitress took orders for your guy's drinks. Looking around it was a really nice VIP section even the whole atmosphere of when you enter the club. You felt proud of Ran seeing the hard work he and Rin did over the years.

As the waitress brought the drink and took them both, handing one of them to you. “Well, what do you think?” Ran asked

“When you talk about it in the past every detail I remember you wanted I can see it being done. It’s honestly amazing.” You admitted to him.

“Thank you.” Ran smiled watching you take a drink. Your whole demeanor was seeming to relax more still his eyes wandered as the dress hugged your curves. “I knew that dress would look good on you.”

You smiled slightly blushing before you could respond and you heard a voice “Ran dear I thought I wouldn’t see you tonight.”

Both of your heads turning to the voice that made Ran cringe seeing Ms. Yamaguchi.

“Ms Yamaguchi, what a surprise?” He spoke in a friendly tone. Giving him a side glance it sounded kinda like he didn’t want to be bothered.

“Oh, it’s your little friend from yesterday I almost didn't recognize you you all dressed up.” the comment it almost took you back as if you looked really bad yesterday, “Sorry what was your name again?” She asked

“Oh it’s _____” giving her a polite smile.

“______ pretty name.” She responded, “tell me how do you know Ran?”

“We have known each other for a long time. How long have you known Ran?”

Ran was mentally stressing out on the interaction between you both just how it’s starting off it was going to be not good.

“For a few weeks but we have gotten very close close.” Ms. Yamaguchi smiled then looking at Ran giving him a wink. You nodded, then looked at Ran. It was becoming a bit more noticeable why she came over. “Oh darling,” she looked at Ran getting close to him. “I was thinking maybe this coming weekend we can take off.”

As you close your eyes, rolling them as you open them, you are taking a drink. You turned around slightly looking around the bar avoid what she wanted to hear from him.

Ran taking a step back. “I actually have to decline.”

“Awww why?” She slightly pouted. “I promise to make it worth your wild.

“I have plans with _____ and our daughter.” She responded.

You looked over at Ran, who was a bit closer to you now. Ms. Yamaguchi was taken back by his response. His hand trailing down your arm he caused you to blush. The jealousy was fueling her a bit seeing how he was interacting with you.

“You have child? since when?” She wanted to hear Ran say it. Even though she already knew.

“We do have a child.” Not wanting to give her info.

“I’m assuming you both are together?” She asked

“We are not together yet.” Ran said.

At this point you didn’t know what to say. But you know he was trying to get away from her with all the questioning. Trying to help him out a bit “I mean by the end of the night we might pick up where we left off we will see where tonight takes us.” Taking a step closer towards him, his hand finding your waist once more.

Ms Yamaguchi spoke “usually exes are exes for a reason. Since knowing Ran he never brought up a child before till now and I never saw you before till yesterday. Where have you been?”

“If you must know, I was overseas. I just came back….” You calmly spoke. In that moment she let out a sarcastic laugh. “Sorry, what do you find funny?”

“You.” Ms Yamaguchi looked at you with a snarky response.

“What about me?” Placing the drink down on the counter.

“Seriously, you think for one minute you can fool me?” Ms. Yamaguchi spoke close to you. “You fooled Ran but not me.” “There is nothing to fool. You don’t know anything about me.” the friendly tone you had disappeared.

“ It is odd to me that you left then reappeared, with a child. When a woman leaves and becomes pregnant with a child in some cases that means the woman was unfaithful to their boyfriend and instead of them coming clean they disappear. I know more than you think….”

The comment irked you. She didn’t know what she was talking about. She was trying to get a reaction out of you “As I said you don’t know anything about me or my daughter.” More things were gonna come out of her mouth letting you both know how much she does know about you both. “Seemingly she does look like a Haitani from what I saw,” she said it made you question how she saw your daughter. Ran looked over and he knew he never showed a photo of his daughter to her. Before Ran could speak Ms. Yamaguchi finished her sentence “Rin and Ran are brothers now. That could be Rin’s daughter for all we know.”

“Ran, get her out of my face before I do something stupid.” you looked at her. She laughed “Is that a threat? I don’t think you would want to have your daughter visit you behind bars now, what example are you going to show her by doing that?.” In a matter of a flash of a second, the finally thin string came undone. Before you could do anything you felt a pair of hands pull you away quickly. “You need to leave now.” The more assertive voice came from Ran looking at Ms. Yamaguchi. You wanted to rip her eyes out. The false accusation of sleeping with Rin and that d/n wasn’t Ran's daughter. Ran was pulling you towards the office you needed to clear your mind. He wasn’t going to let you make a fool of yourself because of someone's jealousy. As he opened the door to his office both you and him went in. Ran could see the anger in your eyes, you couldn’t even talk. Feeling so upset your eyes began to water up. “Stay in here.. I will be back.” Ran walking out of his office. He saw Ms. Yamaguchi walk towards him. He had enough of her games. She stuck her nose in too many times and it was the final straw. “I told you to leave.” She raised her brow “Really Ran?” “You insulted the mother of my daughter” his hands were in his pocket. “It shows how ugly of a person you really are..” She was taken aback by the comment made to her “Excuse me?” She felt like that was worse than getting hit. “She would never be half the woman I am.” “That’s where you're wrong, you can’t compare to __________. What can I say you were only there when needed to relieve stress. Freely opening your legs as I came and went.” Ran's voice was cold as ice. “If you thought there was a chance of me being with you, you were sadly mistaken. Beauty only gets you so far…. I don’t wanna see you here anymore. Get out before I have security escort you..” Ran turned and began walking away leaving her almost dumbfounded by his response.

You were leaning against the desk, your foot tapping on the ground. Your arms were crossed when you heard the door opening the music emitting from the outside your eyes saw Ran coming in. Closing the door, he let a low sigh “I know she is my daughter ________. I never doubted it for a moment." His hands rested his pocket as he walked towards you. “Are you okay?”

“Ran…you know I never did anything with Rin or anyone while we were together.”

“I know, I know… I made sure she wasn’t going to come here again. I just wanted to have a good time with you.” Ran felt like any moment he had with you someone fucked it up. His hand reached for your cheeks brushing the tear away. His hand didn’t leave your face. When he saw your face it began to flash back to a specific time where he saw you like this compared to other times you cried. “_____”

His hand was gentle against your face, he was close to you. Something about Ran in this moment made you feel comfortable and so familiar, something you hadn’t felt in a long time.

Just like a strong magnetic, he was closing the gap between you both his hands reaching for the other side of your cheek. Your lips pressed against his, Ran hands still cradling your face before they drifted down to your lower back. The tip of his tongue lightly brushes against your lip allowing him access to your wet canvas. His lips were so familiar and yet so comforting. They always have been a weakness of yours. His lips were drawing you in for more, Ran could feel your hands reaching for his jacket grasping onto him.

The music was still pounding on the outside of the room. He sat you on his desk not breaking from the kiss. His large hands slide up and down your thighs. “I need you” he was trying to catch his breath. His fingers are already brushing underneath your dress. “My queen, let your king take care of you right away.”

‘Fuck fuck fuck.’ You kept repeating. Your eyes traveled down to the large bulge in his pants. Your own arousal was turning you on and pushing any kind of negative thought was gone. Your hands gravitate to his buckle undoing it. The hem of your dress is being pushed up. Your thong is being pushed to the side. His cock was throbbing and aching to want to be inside you for so long... You could feel the smile tugging on his lips as he kissed you. Feeding into his ego seeing just the small makeup session got you the moment you. He slowly slid inside of you, the deep grunt coming from him has his shaft filling your warm tight cunt. His lips locked with yours as he began to thrust into you “Ran~~~ Ran~~~” You were panting between each kiss.

“You don’t know how much I missed you saying my name like that.” Ran brushing off your straps from your shoulders as he exposed your breast. “I missed all of you ______.” His kisses began to travel from your cheeks to your neck.

At this point you didn’t know if you were just letting the words slip out due to lust. “I missed you too Ran. Fuck~~~~” you tremble whispered looking up at him. The moment he picked up his speed he saw your eyes rolls back for a moment.

“God I love you so fucking much.” panting as his mind fills with a pure craving for you. Just the way you were responding to him was just like he remembered. “tell me you love me ______. Stop denying it.” his fingers trailed to your thighs gripping them “Say it”

“I-I” you were trying to think clearly and it was hard. “I love you Ran,” Ran in the moment of lust and a sense of relief he kept repeating he loved you. You were wrapped around the three words as you kept repeating them to him back. You were the only woman he fell deeply in love with. The mother of his precious daughter, the woman he still planned to have a future with.

“Fuck your so wet”. His eyes glance down to his cock sliding in and out of your sweet pussy. Your cunt kept sucking his cock in. “I missed coming inside what is mine. It feels like you want me to fill that cute little pussy of yours.”

“Don’t pull out Ran.” You whimpered pleading into your fetish of wanting to be filled up to the brim.

“Is that a request?” He cooed slyly as he looked at you “Beg for me to fill you up, come on tell me, pretty girl.” He slowed down his thrust.

“Ran~~ please give me your~~ c-cum~~” you cried out. “Attagirl, one more thing…… Tell me who you belong to.” pulling your thighs slightly up causing you to slightly lean back on the couch. His cock inching deeper and deeper inside of your constricting cunt. “ngh~~~” you were messing up some of the papers on the desk. Knowing he would use this against you.

“Say it ______.” the possessive behavior came from Ran as he was fucking you. “You Ran” the rush of heat filling your body shuddering of euphoric bliss. Your vision became foggy that moment when you looked at him you saw him with his long black and blond hair and the tender loving smile each time you both made love. Reaching to pull him down slightly towards you. You kissed him again not wanting to break the kiss.

Ran sunk into the kiss along with thrusting still in you as you held your closer. He is rapidly thrusting into your tight cunt and sending him into a thrusting frenzy trying to chase the familiar rush sensation. Flexing his jaw tightly, the warmth of his cum plunges into you deeply. Letting out a shudder moaned as he began milking his cock in and out of you.

He felt at home his knee was going to give up in a matter of seconds. Taking a few deep breaths “I love you ____.”

“I love you too Ran.”

Seeing you makeup was slightly smeared; he didn't want you to go out like that and people know what you did. You both began to make yourself look a bit more presentable. He runs his fingers through his hair as he watches you look into the mirror fixing your makeup. There was some form of doubt you both had been thinking right now almost like you couldn’t believe you both had sex a few minutes ago. You saw Ran walking towards you through the mirror. The comfort of his arms wrapping you from behind his head slightly buried in the crook of your neck he closed his eyes briefly softly whispering between your skin “I love you more than anything.”

“I know you do Ran… I don’t have a doubt you do.” Just in that brief encounter right now you weren’t over him either. How easily you said I love you back to him without a doubt in your mind. Still, that part of you didn’t want to say it back because of other situations happening. With the break-in at your home, the woman who envied you from the moment you met her, to Draken…. You criticize women about sleeping with different people but you slept with your closest friend and then the father of your daughter in a short period. You were being a hypocrite and it started to weigh in on you.

Picking his head up slightly he looked at you in the mirror seeing the almost lost look on your face as the pressure was weighing in on you like a ton of bricks. “______.”

“Yeah.” Looking at his violet eyes through the mirror.

“I know you love me. Just a few minutes ago how you said it was just like before.”

“I’m not denying it Ran I just…there is a lot to take in that is happening…I just want to leave.”

He didn’t argue but agreed to take you back. His arms were removed from your waist. When both of you were ready to leave his office the blasting of the music hit you both. You looked around the club and didn’t see that woman around anymore. Walking out of the VIP section you tried to maneuver out of the way with Ran. A sudden chill went up your spine as if someone’s eyes were piercing through you, looking around but there were so many people. In the back corner of the club near the bar you saw a man with piercing yellow eyes, in his hands was a clear glass inside the glass was a dark liquor thinking it could be bourbon or whiskey. That moment you made eye contact with him almost stopping you. Something about his demeanor was off. By himself in the corner of the club, the distinct hand tattoo you saw that said punishment. When Ran felt you slightly slow down he looked at you, seeing your eyes in a direction. “______.” He called out through the music.

Snapping out of it when you looked at him. “Sorry I don’t know what happened.”

“Are you sure?”

You looked at the corner of the club once more and he was gone. “Yeah.”

Proceeding to exit the club getting into his car. You got a text from Rindou along with a photo of your daughter starfished out on the large king mattress.

Rindou: She is out, she stole my bed. T-T If she isn’t her father’s daughter.

You couldn’t help but smile. Ran could see the smile tugging on your lip and the glance at your phone of his daughter knocked out. “She is definitely your daughter.”

He smiled “yeah she is.”

Getting back to Ran’s place. The home was quiet; it made you feel a bit at ease knowing that d/n was secure with Rindou. Ran began taking off his jacket, “I’m going to head into the shower then get some rest. I’ll see you in the morning.” Nodding at his response. He wanted nothing more than to ask you to join him. His hand reaching for the back of your head he leaned in pressing his lips against your forehead. He walked off toward his room.

Walking to your room you placed the bag down on the bed. Taking off your make-up, thoughts pondering into your mind. Just the kiss on the forehead made you feel relaxed. Maybe your next action was questionable you felt like you had no control over your own thoughts. Opening the door up you walked toward his room. You could hear the shower on. Entering his room he was already in the shower. Before stepping into the bathroom you began to undress. Standing bare naked in front of the bathroom door you opened it. You could see the foggy glass on the shower glass door. Rans back facing you he mustn’t have heard you come in. When opening the shower door Ran turned around to see you entering the steamed shower. His eyes trailed your naked frame before bringing his eyes back to yours. Both of you take a step closer, your body pressed against one another. The warmth of the water hits you both. Just the silence alone for the both of you was more than enough to know what one another was feeling. Just the taste of him made you hooked

Your fingers grazed his thigh till your fingers reached for his semi-hardened cock. Ran letting out a shallow breath as his eyes still focused on you. Stroking his cock slowly, feeling him twitch in your hand as she began to get harder. Ran leaned in kissing your lips, his hands sliding down your back gripping your ass cheeks firmly in his hands.

“I thought you wouldn’t have wanted more so soon?” lightly panting as you continued to stroke him. Your body pressing against the cold wet tile wall. Ran's hands gripping your thighs effortlessly lifting you off the floor. Your legs wrapped around his waist “I wanna feel your bare body against mine.” he cooed softly. “I would be lying if I said I didn't want to either…. Just don’t drop me.”

“I wouldn’t do such a thing, you're too valuable to drop.” pressing his lips against yours. The tip of his cock slid in so easily as he held onto you. It would be sometime before you both left the shower.

~~~~~~~~

On the other side of town, Draken was having drinks with Mikey and a few others. Letting them know what happened. “Do you think Ran could have set this up?” Mikey asked.

“I wouldn’t be surprised if he did because of what he found out... But if it’s a way to try and win her back I'm not backing down like that.” Draken took a drink of his beer. “She sounded frustrated on the phone. I even offered to let her and d/n stay at my place but she declined. I don't know all the details but I will see her in a few days. I told her if she needs something to let me know.”

“Ran is going to have her on a close scope. Highly doubt he would let her out of his sight for too long… Still, you know what might happen if she is there too long..” Mikey said. “I'm not saying she will but there is always the possibility.” “I know…” Draken kept getting flashbacks of multiple scenes with you “I know there is something there between me and her there always was something now that it is out in the air I’m not letting go.” ~~~~~

“Ran you can’t mmmm no more cum can fit inside of me ~~~~” Your hair was still damp he had to sprawl out on the couch, the incubus inside of Ran couldn’t control himself he couldn’t stop. The cum was dripping onto the sheets, even if he was feeling tired he needed to fill you just one more time. “Come on baby girl just one more time for Daddy.” he held the back of your thighs pushing them to your chest. “Take all my cum.~” he glanced down at your swollen cunt that had both of your juices on it. In the back of his mind, he may have another alternative motive to fill you up this much but he wouldn’t say it out loud. If it happened once it could happen again.

But if it happened would it be the results he wanted or someone else’s results? IF IT HAPPENS

to be continued....

Tagging: @pjmo-ri-ka-wawa /@rindougf/ @inupiluv/ @shycreatorsandwich / @awkwardaardvarkforever /@the-haitani-baton /@bontensbabygirl /@thebrownemo / @satanlovesusall666 /@intheafterall /@galactict3a / @ratlovecat/@niko-ash /@kira-rrh / @iluv-ace /@kosoyumei / @nightqueensk / @alexanderlightwoodii / @captainmycaptainn/@lovenats01@sintyu/ @strawberrychrome /@missgab @anxious-chick / @oyaoyaoyaoyaoyaoyaoyaoya /@s4dl1/ @elmakimaki / @spookiisopium/@staygoldsquatchling02, /@txna04, /@hana-patata /@livefromnc, /@mikorime,/ @mdibby / @chronic-claire-universe /@cxrrxxx / @drakensdarling / @stephisokay / @livuknown / @lunatical /@q-the-rockaholic / @istanstraykids / @opchara / @kinybgvcdxs / @twistedw0nd3rland3acc / @cloudsinthecosmos / @ratlovedrama / @galliardsmaniac / @villsophie / @mztoman / @carixes / @trevengersprincess / @kodzukein / @sushijimaaa / @wakasasbae / @haitani-maki

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#ran haitani #ran x reader #tokyo revengers #ran x you #Secretes kept from him #chapter 8: his comfort #TR telenovela #ran x reader x draken #val's writing #rindou haitani #tokyo rev x reader #tokyo rev smut #the witch of one piece

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cherry-pop-elf · 5 months

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Hello! So, I hope this request is okay to ask, if not, I'm so sorry!!! (Especially as it is a triggering topic) --- TW ‼️‼️ healing from SA

I was wondering about a fic with george where the reader (gender neutral but afab anatomy) has maybe been put through something in the past (left ambiguous), and essentially is just ready to try more intimate stuff with george, and is able to just fully enjoy themself with him? Like a healing sort of thing?

I know this request is kinda different. I've seen your other posts about sensitive topics and thought they were great, and I checked to see what you are/aren't okay with (I hope I didn't get it wrong, if I did, I'm very sorry!), so I thought I'd send this in. I just thought it'd be a healing read! BUT, I understand that it's still sensitive, so totally no worries if that's the case!

Also, I hope this isn't too specific???? I apologise if it is!!!!

I hope that you're having a lovely day ^^

((Sorry it took so long! It’s been finals season, and since it’s such a heavy topic I wanted to be in a good headspace to work on it. Ya know?))

As someone who suffers from self harming ((I have an issue where I just scratch myself and my arms get scratched like crazy. They are vertical, so no one thinks they are ‘real’ self harming scars 🙄)) so writing George on a topic like this would be very comforting to me as well. Thank you for being so brave in asking 🫂 I’m so proud of you for speaking! This will be lovely

Kissable

George Weasley X AFAB reader

Warnings: 18+, heavy talks about Self Harm and Suicidal Ideations, gentle sex, lots of fluff and kisses, body positivity, disabilities, Umbridge, Fred gets to live because we need to lighten this heavy topic, lots of gentleness, wizarding war typical angst, deafness, body dysmphroia, it’s gonna be heavy and descriptive but also there is plenty of comfort to balance. Not sugar coating comfort. Sugaring coating can be so annoying. Trust me. I know

Life sure was different, when the war finally ended. The stress of it all was off everyone’s shoulders. The world was finally able to move forward. Death wasn’t at the doorstep. Life was suppose to be happier, but you still felt like it wasn’t. That you were holding yourself back. That even the battle of Hogwarts didn’t shake you back to reality. You felt bad, and George noticed.

“S’matter, jellybean?” He asked you, as he leaned himself against the railing. Having seen you space out again. Happened alot, but he noticed it more than ever now. As if he wanted to leave you to be stressed after all. This should be a happy time, but somehow it wasn’t.

“Just….Thinking.” You muttered, as you played with the end of your sleeves. You could hear him sigh, a deep one, as he watched. As if he knew something. Something you wish he didn’t. Seemed such a worry was made a reality, when you were both suddenly apparated into his office. A place for privacy, after all.

He’s been suspicious, but a constant wizarding war tends to take your mind off things. Along with busy with a school year, and starting up a business. Made any doubts get overrun with work, and stress, get covered. Not today, though. Not today.

“Love, we need to have a talk. A serious one, please.” That made your heart drop, as he would motion you to join him on the couch. You felt so terrified, as you were forced to sit next to him on it. Now having your hands held by his.

“You know I love you, and I want to take care of you. I love you so very much. We’ve been through so much together. You’ve been there for me, and I want to be there for you. You know that, right?” He asked, as you gave a sheepish nod. Wondering where this was going, but deep down knew he figured it out. He’s had it figured out for a while.

He’s not stupid, after all. You could only hide something like this for so long. Why you never turned on the light, how you used Umbridge as an excuse for anything that was accidentally seen. How you always wore long sleeves, even when going to bed. If you could hide your body, you did. But now? George could understand that pain, and he wasn’t having you suffer in silence anymore.

“Love, it’s ok. You know that, right? I’m not here to judge, or make fun of ya. Gonna be the last person to do that. I mean, look at me. Look at Billy boy. We know a thing or two about getting roughed up.” He tried to not directly say what he wanted to say, in a means to let you be the one to say it. To let YOU be in charge of it.

After the war, he just wasn’t the same. When Fred went in that coma, oh he was in utter hell. He was already recovering from his ear. Now he had to spend every day, wondering if his twin would live or die. How Umbridge caught wind of such a thing, and tried to pull something. Like trying to say Bill was qualified under the Werewolf laws. Oh life was hell, and he had to project somehow. Not the same as you, but to say there wasn’t a taste is an understatement.

“George, I really don’t want to talk about this-“ You tried to weasel out, but his grip on your hands only tightened. The sadness in his eyes left you frozen in place. He wanted to take care of you, and make sure you knew you were safe with him. Such a complicated mess it all was. Just made you feel worse, if anything.

“Love….Let me see you. Please. Let me see all of you. You see me, can I see you?” He tried, and your tears just welled up more. You couldn’t understand why he was doing this. Why he cared. Your brain just didn’t accept that people can love you. It’s hard to grasp.

“This is different-“ You tried. “Why is it different?” He rebutted. “It just is. It’s different when I do it-“ How the brain was complex, and a pain in the ass to have. Luckily, George knew a thing or two about them. You learn alot when running a joke shop. Kids come to you with so many problems. You learn things you don’t want to.

“I don’t want to force you, but I can’t have you suffer like this anymore. I’m not doing this to hurt you, Jellybean. You were there when I lost my ear. When I thought I was going to lose Fred. Umbridge, everything. Let me be there for you-“ He begged, as he forced your hand onto the side of his head.

Your palm would feel over the scars from the Potion Master Made Spell. How deep they were, and never seemed to properly heal. How familiar the texture was. The smoothness of cut flesh, as he no longer could hear. The lines that cut into his hair, cheek, and even face. It was nothing like what Bill suffered, but it hurt. Hurt no longer being identical.

With a shakey breath, you gave in. Ready to accept him screaming at you in disgust. To say all the mean things people have said to you before. Attention seeker, that you need to make them deeper already, that you look like a cutting board. Every insult, every mean remark. All of it. You accepted your fate, as you rolled up your sleeves.

The air was silent, but it wasn’t heavy. No, it was calm. Like the air was clear. For once, the weight was gone. You couldn’t understand why there was such a feeling of peace. Why wasn’t he looking at you with disgust? With hate? Why was he smiling?

“Hm, kinda remind me of Charlie. He’s got ink like crazy, same for Bill. You’ve seen them. Bills got these protection ruins, and Charlie has as many dragons as possible. You would look good with sleeves.” He smiled, as he gently held your wrist. Truly looking at them, and not flinching at all. He was looking at you. And wanting to make you feel like there was a chance you didn’t have to hide. That you were the center of it all. Not the scars. Not even asking why you had them. He didn’t need to know. He just wanted to know if you knew he could keep you safe.

The fact he started to kiss them was what had you sob. He was kissing something you hated so much. He was accepting it as a part of you. This was just what was part of your life. Your struggles. Your fears. Your hate. He was accepting that, because he loved you. You were what he cared about. Not what people thought.

It was such a tender moment, as you were able to let yourself cry. Let yourself have that good, needed, cry. All the while George took care of you. Kissing your scars, and holding you close. Just wanting you to know you were safe with him. Not rushing you. You never rushed him when he bursted into tears, no matter how random it was. So, you deserved that attention all the same.

“George…You know how I said I wanted us to wait until we were married?” You asked him, as you wiped your eyes. He would brush them aside, as well, as he nodded to you. Keeping his eyes glued with yours, as he tried to show you his full attention.

“It was kinda a lie. I didn’t want you to see me….But I think I’m ready now. I think you can see me now.” You consented, as he smiled. Clearly proud of such a big step. His pride made you want to cry more. There was no shame, or doubt, in those big brown eyes. He didn’t see you as any less, as before the topic was broached. It was as if you simply dyed your hair. It’s still you, under it all.

“I’ve been waiting for this, and I was willing to wait for never even.” He chuckled, as he kissed your cheek. Another reminder he was there for you. Not for some end goal. There was no end goal, with love. There was a continue. A continue for as long as the hearts wanted.

With a gentle kiss to your lips, the two of you were side alonged back into your shared flat. Fred would be able to handle the shop just fine, after all. It’s near closing anyway. With how close those two were, you wouldn’t be surprised if he knew where George went. Even as far as why.

“I’ve always wanted to see you. So badly.” He sighed, as he kissed you again. Gentle, and sweet. Not this heated passion in the books or movies. Just tender, and making sure you were taken care of. In every sense of the word. This was love, not sex.

Just gentle kisses, shared between you two, as he helps remove your clothes. Allowing more and more of you to be seen on the surface. Every cut, bruise, stretch mark, imperfection, whatever you had. He was able to finally see it all, and wouldn’t stop kissing each little dot on your skin.

It was so scary. Scary to allow him. He was so proud of you to allow him. To allow him to witness you whole. He was so damn proud. Couldn’t stop his kisses all over your skin. Along with a few little playful ones, like right on your nose. Just wanting to make you smile. Know that you were safe. No matter how vulnerable you were. You allowed him to feel safe, when he lost so much. It’s a crime to not return the favor.

Open mouth kisses would trail over your body, as he helped you lay down on the bed. Slow, sweet, and savoring it. Understanding just how important it all was. No need to rush. No need to treat it as a one and done. This a moment to share, between two people who loved each other. So very very very much.

“You really are beautiful. I know I know. I can say it all I want, but I mean it-!” He whined at the end, making you smile. Ever playful, no matter the mood. Was very soothing. Made any heavy topic easier to deal with. He just made life easier, and his smile could sooth any coals under your feet.

There was one more little kiss to your nose, before he finally allowed himself to strip. His own body full of scars from so many things. War, failed experiments, Umbridge, death eaters, blood purest’s, friends turned enemies, the list goes on. Those scars felt different to you. He didn’t ask for them, yet wasn’t ashamed of them either. The mind can truly be so warped, but George was always one to be fascinated by the world. Willing to dive into that hellscape you call a brain, because you are in there after all.

“You are so beautiful.” He just kept on saying, before his naked body was pressed against yours. Playful little kisses were pressed all over your face, as your skin felt his. Felt his scars on yours, yours were felt on his. Just pure skin contact, as he was holding you close. Loving every little part of you. If it was you, he loved it. Scars and all.

“I’m ready when you are. And if ready is never, eh. Who gives a shit?” He would place another kiss to your nose, before your hands were around his neck. You were trying to mentally psych yourself up, and he was more than happy to wait. Happy to just admire you. Big ole Brown eyes, and a freckled smile.

“Yeah. I’m ready.” You nodded, as he gave you another kiss. One arm was used to prop himself up, as the other found your slit. Just being very gentle, and stroking it. Not yet intruding, but just taking it nice and slow. He was no virgin, after all. But you were, and he was going to treat you right.

Slow, steady, and calculated. A man who was that of an inventor. He knew how to move his fingers. Gentle over your slit, almost ghosting it even. Made you crave more, in such a simple gesture. Those rough fingers on such a sensitive part of your body. All exposed to him.

A kiss to your neck was given, as he finally slipped them in. Had you shiver, but he kept planting kisses on you. Easing you into such a feeling you were growing costumed to. How you always loved his big and rough hands. Always brought you comfort. Now they were bringing you pleasure.

“You already feel so wonderful. Bloody amazing.” He whispered, as he would kiss along your jaw. Just two fingers pushing in and out of you. His thumb even working at your clit, and it had you whimper a bit. Such new stimuli, but he was keeping it slow and gentle. Easing you into it.

“Don’t be shy. I can only hear so much, have mercy on me.” He teases, as it helped bring you back to earth. That this isn’t just sex. You were making love with someone you love. Made you smile, as he kissed the corner of your mouth. Drinking in the soft little breaths you left for him, before he snuck a third finger in.

“Oh you are going to feel so bloody good. I just know it. I can hardly wait any longer.” He moaned for you, as he was picking up his speed. That earned him more sounds from you, as your walls were coating his fingers. Showing you were enjoying yourself, when your voice was lost.

“Are you ready, or was this enough for one day?” More reassurance. That even now, when he’s so close to getting his turn at pleasure, he wanted you to know it didn’t matter. You matter. Almost made you cry.

“I’m ready, Georgie. I mean it. For once, I’m ready.” You would cup his face, and admired him. Those warm eyes, that imperfect unsymmetrical face. Those freckles, those scars, and that beautiful toothy smile. That’s your man, and he was all yours. Never thought you deserved such a wonderful man in your life. In this moment though? You finally accepted it. Even if it was temporary, you were able to fight your brain long enough to say you deserved this man. Seemed George could even see it in your eyes, as he pulled you into a deep kiss.

The tip of his cock felt so hot. As if he was just twitching in need. Had you feel so beautiful. Beautiful to know he was that excited to be with you. Hard to fake a feeling like that, after all. That feeling of a throbbing cock. Just hungry to finally feel you. Feeling you, he did. Finally slipping inside, as you pulled him closer. Moaning into his mouth, as the gesture is returned.

You swore he might be feeling more pleasure from it than yourself. There was a morbid comfort in that. Knowing your body could do such a thing. Ever after so much, it could still do good. Made your body relax, and had you enjoy the ride all the better.

The feeling of his hips meeting yours, and how he rolled them. Feeling those hip bones against your soft flesh. It just itched a scratch you didn’t know you had. Feeling this slender man above you, with his arms tense. Those muscles showing themselves off to you. Freckled and scared. So beautiful to you.

The moans he gave you had you drunk. They sounded so good. You swore you could get off from them alone. The feeling of him moaning into your mouth, as he kept rolling his hips into yours. Fingers tangled together, as you both just enjoyed each other. No need for words. Just embracing what your bodies wanted. The feeling of connection, and love.

It was like a beautiful dream. Nothing else mattered, in that moment. Just the two of you. Making love, and enjoying each other’s company. To feel the air grow heated, and sweat build between you both. How those easy rolls grew in speed, and had you both gasping each other’s names. Fingers holding on tighter to each other, as if afraid to melt into nothing.

“You feel so good-“ He spoke so breathlessly, as he would keep thrusting into you. All the while you moan openly for him. Your hands were trapped under his own, and you would give him squeezes of delight into those callused fingers. Allowing yourself to be louder. A mixture of allowing yourself to enjoy it, and a need to make sure he could hear how much you were indeed enjoying it. It’s the least you can do. Small acts go a long way, and you witnessed such first hand tonight.

“I don’t think I’m going to last much longer-“ He admits, sounding so embarrassed. It was cute. He was always so cute. Had you smile, and he smiled back. Your smile seemed to comfort his blushing cheeks, as you two returned another kiss. A kiss, as his hips begun to thrust in an uneven pattern. Had you whimper for him, as he kept true to his word. He didn’t last any longer, and he was soon moaning your name into your mouth. Tangling it in your tongue, and his.

The heat inside felt so satisfying. To let yourself ride a high, and have it be with him. How your legs couldn’t stop themselves, and wrapped around him. Needing to have him as close as your bodies could allow it. As if needing to become one. It was truly like being a fire work. A burst of pleasure, and sounds. It all felt so good, and it truly did feel like it filled a void in your heart that you didn’t know you had.

Coming down from the high was treated slowly. The both of you savoring it. With him holding you, as he stayed where he was. His head snuggled into your neck, as you played with his hair. Your turn in giving him the gentle comfort. Allowing him to use his working ear to enjoy your breathing, and heart. No need to worry about words. Just gentle affection. Embracing each other, and enjoying a moment of existing.

“Worth the wait-?” You asked, as you two were finally in a more clear headspace. He took a moment to think, as he pulled out you. Had you whine, as you liked the feeling. That made him chuckle, as he was soon pulling a blanket over you both.

“Yes. Very much worth the wait.” He would reassure you, as he was now your big spoon. Making sure you felt safe, in yet another vulnerable moment. His legs tangled with yours, as he wrapped his arms around you. Giving you a hug, as he pressed his face in your neck. Enjoying your scent.

Tears slipped down your cheeks, but not out of sadness anymore. But pure relief. You will still have your dark days, but you had a bundle of sunshine to stay there. Stay, and wait, for when you could speak again. He wouldn’t leave you behind when things got rough. He was making sure of that. Not even processing how much this simple act of spoon was bringing such joy. He existed, and it made you existing easier.

“Love you, Georgie.” You said, as you stole a hand to kiss. His own lips returned the gesture, as they were right on your cheek. “Love you more, Jellybean.” He yawned.

That comfort of another body, it was just what you needed. For once, in a long time, you weren’t scared to fall asleep. You were happy to sleep. To get rest, even excited to wake up again. Because you knew one thing, and one thing that changed everything.

He would be there when you woke up, and that was what mattered. He would be there, every time you woke up, and sometimes that’s all it takes to make you wake up.

Your sunshine, always there when the rain clouds came. Always there, and will never leave.

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sadly-in-active · 4 months

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Affogato Cookie x Amnesiac Reader (part 3)

Summary: Congratulations, you aren’t dead or anything! Apparently the head injury that you got from falling headfirst into a pile of rocks made you get amnesia! Hooray…yay…🤗. Luckily, you have a caretaker who’s here to tell you what you missed, who you are, and what happened to you! How sweet, right? And, uh, what was his name again? Oh, Affogato Cookie? Yeah, that’s fine. He’s probably a great guy, y’know?

TW: FINALLY some manipulation, normal gremlin Affogato, you don’t get wtf is going on because nobody is telling you besides the ex-advisor, and mentions of blood strawberry jam loss! Probably poisoning if you squint your eyes~ AND NOTHING I MAKE IS PROOFREAD.

Link to #1

Link to #2

You let out a soft groan, feeling both sleepy and sore as you blink your eyes open. Your gaze darts around, trying to make sense of where you are. It's freezing and everything is covered in snow. You’re in a cave... How did you end up here? And then it hits you—wait a second, who even are you??

“Agh…my head..”

You mutter softly, attempting to stand up but quickly collapsing back onto the ground, curling up from the pain in your chest. You notice someone has bandaged you up. So, you got wounded, someone brought you to this random cave, and then patched you up? Hm. Well, it feels like you should thank whoever helped you out. It just seems like the right thing to do.

However, a quiet yet amused voice was heard from the darker corner of the cave, where little to nothing would be seen without a light.

“Well, you certainly look like a mess. I’d suggest that you sit down, but I doubt that I get a say in what you can or can’t do.”

It was... someone. Not in a rude way, just that kind of voice that triggers a faint sense of familiarity, like you've crossed paths before but can't quite recall where or when. That damned memory loss; you can't even remember your own name or how you ended up in this situation. Everything feels like a haze, pieces of a puzzle scattered and lost in the fog of your mind.

“W…who are you? Do you know who I am too? How did this happen, what am I doing-”

You asked, trying to limp closer to the darker corner of the cave before the stranger giggled, cutting you off as he walked into the light. At first you were taken aback by how he looked. How could a voice as smooth and sultry as that fit someone who looked so…feminine? Well, you didn’t have time to question it, as he suddenly grabbed your hand and gestured for you to sit down, which you did.

“Oh, a lost little sheep like you must be very hurt after your incident. You don’t remember me, do you? That’s alright, I can tell you. My name is Affogato Cookie, but you can call me Affogato. You were attacked by one of the beastly snow lions within the kingdom’s snowy borders, and I stepped in to save you before you crumbled and bled out.”

Affogato, at least, that’s what he calls himself, just smiled sweetly, lighting some incense as he spoke. His demeanor exuded confidence, as if he held all the answers in the palm of his hand. And honestly? All you needed was someone to explain what the hell was happening in a way that wouldn’t send you into a panic spiral. His voice had this soothing quality, like a gentle breeze on a hot day, and you found yourself inexplicably drawn to it. You let out a shaky sigh, feeling a sense of relief wash over you as you nodded slowly, silently thinking that maybe, just maybe, things were going to be okay.

"You saved me…? Oh, you must be the one who put the bandages on my body. You saved my life - literally. Is there any way I can repay you?"

You asked, your voice a mix of gratitude and curiosity as you looked up at him, trying to read his expression. However, even as you spoke, you realized you had about a hundred MILLION questions buzzing in your mind, waiting to burst out.

Affogato merely smiled and tucked away a few messy strands of your hair behind your ears. Oh, you looked so naive and innocent…like a child who just found out about the world. It was delightful, seeing someone so strong and resilient be reduced to a confused and weak little sheep in need of a shepherd to guide them.

“All in due time, dear. Oh, and you were called [name], in case your mind forgot about that. You also were my most closest servant and disciple during my time as the Royal Advisor, as well as former King to the Dark Cacao Kingdom. Oh, you were so loyal…maybe I could make you remember what it was like..”

It was an obvious lie on Affogato’s side, but for you, it definitely sounded like the truth. If he was so eager to save you, of course he would’ve known who you were and how much you were loyal to him!

—

For the next few days, you were asking questions to the ex-advisor, and he answered with his own twisted way of reality. All to keep you under his thumb and become his sweet little puppet.

Yet, during the nights, you still seemed to have those horrible nightmares, this time coming back stronger and stronger to the point of curling up in a ball and just plain sobbing. What the hell were you even thinking about? What kind of stuff have you encountered during your time as a Watcher? It made Affogato ponder for many hours on end, still allowing you to lean on him during this period of time.

Affogato became more affectionate, as time went on. Well, during nights only. In the day he was that manipulative and cunning snake that everyone knows him as.

But he certainly can get you to quiet down, whether it be whispering in your ear or lighting some strong incense around you, keeping you sleepy and relaxed instead of terrified and anxious like a mouse.

He didn’t even know how you managed to break down his first wall of coldness and gaining a certain level of trust.

But of course, he had to be wary in case you somehow got your memories back.

For now, the feeling of your warm body breathing softly as you lean on his shoulder feels more relaxing then it should’ve.

I’m gonna explode

#affogato cookie being a little shit #would this be considered a very short fanfic #cookie run kingdom #writers on tumblr #cookie run x you #crk x you #crk x reader #crk affogato #affogato cookie x reader #affogato cookie

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crookedkryptonitebeliever · 8 months

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Best and Worst of Both worlds (part 9)

Tw: monty being a fuckin creep, vomiting, the girls are fightingggg, so blood and violence, yves being a dick and elitist, using the word queer in a derogatory manner

DAMN i was expecting the votes to be like to go to the uni cause Yves is hottest choice rn

anyways if u guys read the original series where Monty was from, u would know he's like a sub but his behavior depends on the reader, he's actually a switch

tanks for reading, pls send in anon asks, reblog or comments i love 2 hear yalls thoughts and it keeps me going PLSPLSPLS I AM DESPERATEEE

Part 10

The mall it is. You've been visiting the university too much to escape your home and to take your dreaded exams, despite having air conditioning, you're going to feel miserable there. You barely have friends in the university aside from Yves. A change of scenery would be nice, to note down the things you wanted for yourself.

You tried to decide how you feel about Yves. The urge to run away from him and hide is there, but it's not as strong anymore. Because he already saw it all. The mold, your room, your tears, your puke... you can't possibly embarrass yourself again to that degree, right? The worst should be over.

And, he did say it himself; he is interested in you too. So... it should be safe to proceed with this weird relationship. You think. He's already doing way more than what a lover typically does, let alone someone who you barely went on a first date with.

You shouldn't be afraid of bumping into him. He's not going to bite your head off, you hope.

And speak of the devil, you received a text from him.

"(Name), this is Yves. I hope you slept well. Please reply to me as soon as you wake up."

You bit the inside of your cheek, you held onto your bag tightly as the bus drove over a hump.

It's not like he could see that you read it. You don't know what he is going to say next, once you respond.

But it's rude to just leave him hanging like that. He's probably going to find out you're ignoring him anyways.

Might as well text him back. You told him that you're now awake. He must be a fast typer because you received a message a few seconds later.

"Good afternoon, how are you feeling?"

You replied that you're feeling fine.

"I assume you are currently resting at home?"

You don't know if you should lie. But then he could easily find out the truth by asking your housemates. So you let out a defeated sigh and told him the half-truth. You said no. That was it, you didn't elaborate further.

"Where are you? Did you at least apply sunscreen?"

You replied that you're now getting off the bus. You're going to text him back later. After that, you put your phone into your pocket.

You walked away from the bus stand and looked at the billboards littered all over the area. It takes a six-minute walk to get to the Mall, maybe a bit longer because your usual path is blocked by a construction job. The workers gave the pedestrians an alternative pathway to travel.

As you start walking, you wonder why was the bus stop never built directly in front of its entrance. It's such a nuisance to get there if you don't own a car.

You frown because the sun is beating against your head, you're among a group of people being funneled into this other path and you're starting to overheat. You remembered Yves packed a UV ray-blocking umbrella, so you went ahead and took it out. You opened it and shielded yourself from the rays, sighing in relief as you felt coolness instantly wash over you.

You were minding your own business and fighting your own inner demons until suddenly a large hand clamped itself onto your shoulder. You let out a surprised yelp and a jolt at the unexpected contact, this cannot be Yves's because it's too calloused and careless, mildly hurting you in the process.

"Joe?"

Who?

You turned whipped your head to the back and saw the person who paid for your poisoned meal. He took your umbrella off your hands, making you hiss at the sun.

"It really is you!" His eyes lit up and the corners of his mouth curled up into a wide, happy grin. "How ya' been? I didn't see you yesterday. Where were ya?"

You eyed him up and down, he's in uniform.

"I'm on my break right now." His hand guided your back. "C'mon, let me treat you lunch."

You said that you had food poisoning from the place you ate with him. And you asked what he meant by "Didn't see you yesterday".

His jaw dropped in shock at your words.

"It really sucks to hear that, so that's why you look a lil' too thin today. I guess you're just not used to their cookin'. I was fine and dandy." You and him seem to move along with the crowd aimlessly.

You repeated your question about what he meant by not seeing you yesterday.

"I came by your school 'cause I got you some Chinese. I couldn't find ya' and no one seems to know who the hell was I talkin' about. Why didn't ya' call me? I was waitin' all night for your voice."

Luckily you gave him the fake name of "Joe M." on your first meeting with him. But it's not like he would have gotten any information on you anyway, you're invisible in your university. Unless he happened to come across Yves, which you doubt he will divulge him about you.

You just said 'oh'.

"Hope you're feelin' better though. Hey, I know a great place to get some hearty chicken soup. It's gotta be good for your belly, it sure helped me when I'm sick as a dog." You took notice of his deepening southern accent.

You're starting to feel uncomfortable around this man, he's wrapping his arm around your shoulder like he's your boyfriend.

You said that you were full, you had something to eat earlier.

"Aw shucks. That's fine, I'll just hang out with you till my break's over." He ruffled your hair affectionately, laughing as you tried to smoothen it out.

You don't like him. Who does he think he is? You're barely even acquaintances with him. But you think it's safer to play along until you find an opportunity to escape, there is no way you could fight off a 6'5 man who lifts steel pillars for a living.

"You got any plans this weekend? I wanna take you out to have fun, you must've spent all your time studyin', and that's good! Education is important. But you gotta loosen up a little 'cause life is short!" Montgomery is either oblivious to or disregards your uncomfortable body language.

You said you made plans already. He momentarily looked dejected, but he reverted back to his cheerful self when he thought of something.

"What about next week? I heard there is a festival goin' on by the pier. There's going to be a Ferris wheel, cotton candy, funnel cakes--"

You decided to rip the bandaid off and straight up tell him that you're not interested in pursuing a relationship with him. Since there were witnesses, you wriggled out of his hold and waited to see what he would do to you. Hoping that he would just respectfully leave you alone but expecting to be angrily punched right in front of everyone.

He was stunned, speechless for a moment until there was a strange glimmer in his eyes that was concealed by his shaggy, brown hair.

"...You're playing hard to get."

A horrified, incredulous look crossed your face. Absolutely not! What makes him think of you that way? You took a couple steps backward as he tried to get closer.

"I see how it is, sweetheart. You want me to chase you, don't ya'?" He playfully pinched both of your cheeks. You wince, struggling to pull his hands off.

You genuinely do not understand why he has this impression of you. As anyone would do, you vehemently denied it.

"Aww, look at you. Red-faced and all." He giggled, grabbing you by the wrist and pulling you away from the main foot traffic so he could toy with you in private. "If you weren't into me, you would have left me to die that night. I may not be the richest or the most handsome..." his smile faltered when it came to the topic of his looks. "...but I know you saw something in me! I'm gonna make sure you don't regret saving me!" You're already regretting being born.

You called him crazy, anyone would have helped him! You're no one special, he teasingly rolled his eyes.

"Yeah, keep telling yourself that, beautiful. Anything to help you sleep at night."

You were adamant that you're not interested and you already have a boyfriend! But this doesn't seem to faze him, he just bent down to your level and placed his hands behind his back.

"Oh yeah? Where is he then? Get outta here, you don't have one. At least, not yet." He winked at you.

Yeah. He is impossible to reason with.

You argued that you do. In fact, he is right behind Montgomery!

He's definitely not believing you, but he turns around anyway to see... no one, as expected.

"I don't see him, do you-- huh?" He was momentarily dumbfounded when all there was in front of him was air.

You managed to blend in with the crowd and successfully entered the mall. You ran into the nearest retail store and hid behind one of the shelves. Everyone was too busy shopping to care what someone shaking like a leaf was doing crouching in the baby and maternal department.

Your hand trembled as you pulled your phone out to see Yves sent you another text.

"Take care. Send me a text message as soon as possible. I will give you a call fifteen minutes later if I do not hear from you by then."

It's been 12 minutes since he sent that text. The next reasonable course of action is to seek comfort and safety from Yves. You thought Montgomery was unhinged and delusional, he thinks you're his just because you saved him that night. You cared as much as everyone else, no one wanted to see another person die if they could help it! But he took it as some ultimate love confession for him.

Then you realize that you should have run as soon as you first rejected him. You hit yourself on the head, he must have thought all the attention you gave him trying to explain yourself was a green light for him to go forward!

You called yourself stupid for not catching this earlier. There's not much you could do now except tell Yves you don't feel safe.

You texted Yves your exact location, even down to the aisle and section. Your texts are a series of panic-induced typos begging him to pick you up because you're scared.

"I will be there in 15 minutes. Is it safe for me to call you?"

You disregarded that text and just dialed his number.

"(name)?" It was so good to hear his smooth, calm voice. Your blood pressure momentarily dropped but rose back again after remembering why you called him in the first place.

You frantically explained what had happened, even your first meeting with Montgomery and the takeaway that gave you food poisoning. Spilling everything even though you didn't mean to, but you're just scared and trapped in a store. You felt upset that he had the umbrella, you apologized and-

"Raise your hand above your head for me, please." He cut you off. You did exactly what he asked, now distracted from your ranting.

"Inhale, following my count." He counted up to four.

"Hold." He counted to seven.

"Exhale." You breathed out for eight seconds. He repeated the cycle a few more times until he could tell you calmed down. Montgomery wouldn't find you from where you're hiding.

"Very good." He praised. "You may put your hand down."

You forgot about that, so you quickly retract your arm to your side.

"I will stay on the line with you until I arrive. Do you understand, (name)?" You gulped and said a shaky yes.

"Stay where you are. You're safe there." He continued. Yves sounded so confident in his answers that you can't help but trust him fully.

You wished you had friends. You wouldn't need to solely rely on him if you did.

"What did you think of the breakfast I made for you?" He asked, in a tone and cadence as if he was casually chatting up with his partner about their day. But you can tell he's speeding through the highways by the intense humming of his car engine.

You said that it's nice. You thanked him for taking care of you.

"I'm happy you enjoyed it. I will be making chicken soup for you tonight, did you apply sunscreen before leaving the house?"

You paused for a while, trying to remember what you did. You eventually tell him no.

"It is important for you to protect your skin. Remember to do so next ti--"

The call suddenly dropped. Your heart started beating wildly again, what happened? You pulled your phone away from your ear and looked at the screen.

You let out a visceral scream that caught everyone's attention, your phone battery is dead.

Seeing that you caused a scene, you flee the store out of embarrassment, forgetting about Yves telling you your original spot is the safest place for you to be in. Now with no means of contacting your savior and being out in the open like this, your brain starts to short-circuit. You begin running aimlessly in no particular direction.

All this stress and explosive physical exertion on you right after a bout of illness is making you queasy again.

But you kept going, just... roaming around while periodically looking over your shoulders. Customers and staff alike were staring at you, thinking that you were suffering from some sort of inner turmoil or drug abuse issues. However, they knew better than to intercept.

However, you focused too much on your back, and not too much on the front.

You slammed into a sturdy pillar, lost your balance, and fell back onto your rear.

"Whoa! You alright?" Except that pillar can speak. And it was the last person you want to see right now. Concern riddled his face as he crouched down to help you up. "This is fun and all, but you gotta watch where you're goin-"

At that moment, your stomach decided to empty itself onto Montgomery's chest. He grimaced as you continued to spew and release more vomit from your mouth.

Yves knows where you are. He knew your phone battery died, Yves is just mildly annoyed he didn't catch the fact that one of your room outlets was faulty. It so happened to be the one you used to charge your phone.

Yves pushed the door of the mall's clinic open, glaring daggers at Montgomery as he spotted him waiting on the bench, covered in your puke; noting his filthy fingers wrapping the handle of your bag. He was taken aback by this sudden hostility from an apparent stranger, he looked at Yves confused, what did he ever do to him? Was he offended that he happened to be covered in someone else's throw-up? What a stuck-up bitch!

Yves took his wallet out of his handbag and walked up to the receptionist. He shared a few hushed words with her and spared a couple of unkind glances for Montgomery. The woman behind the counter had both eyebrows raised momentarily before she nodded and picked up a phone. While speaking to someone unknown on the other side of the line, she accepted Yves's credit card.

Soon after, she handed him a clipboard and a pen. He had to sign something before receiving a receipt.

Montgomery looked him up and down with equal animosity, his eyes trailing behind Yves as he took the seat opposite of him.

The dark-haired male elegantly crossed his legs and rested his hands on his knee. Now a blank expression took over his beautiful face. Montgomery took note of his feminine demeanor including his usage of makeup. He somehow deluded himself that he was better than Yves even though he was hunched over, resting his forearms on his thighs while spreading his legs.

Montgomery tried to look away and ignore this stranger. But he couldn't, because Yves was burning holes through his head with his constant stare.

This really ruffled Montgomery's feathers. He's clearly trying to start something.

"What the hell is your problem?"

All eyes landed on Montgomery. Young or old, they're now invested in this sudden outburst.

"What do you mean?" Replied Yves calmly as he tilted his head to the side to feign ignorance.

"You're lookin' at me like you wanted to fight!" Montgomery finally sat up straight while accusing Yves. Meanwhile, the graceful man placed a hand on his chest to express disbelief.

"I do not understand this explosive reaction from you, I have done nothing wrong." Yves's long eyelashes fluttered as he blinked, already winning the hearts of the public. It ticked Montgomery off so bad. For some reason, this androgynous person is making him angrier than usual. Maybe it's because Yves's old money aura reminded him of every city girl and boy who fucked him over emotionally, socially, financially, or physically.

It was quite unusual, Montgomery would usually just not engage with these citizens. But today, Yves is exceptionally infuriating while doing the least. He even smelled the same as those rich bastards, they all must be using the same cologne.

A mere five minutes had elapsed since they first met, yet Montgomery despised him with every fiber of his being.

Yves knows his own effect on the construction worker.

"Don't play with me! You had that stupid look on your face, what have I done to you, huh!?" He rose from his seat.

A ghost of a smile graced Yves's otherwise serious face. That simpleton took the bait.

"Please calm down. You're causing a scene out of nothing." Yves continued provoking him. Mothers began to leave the room with their children, and other patients quietly changed their seats to be further away from the two men.

"Why you-" Something distracted him from his rage.

Yves turned his head and saw you slowly dragging yourself out of the hallway, carrying a prescription slip in one hand and cradling your stomach in the other. You look pale and exhausted as you limp towards the waiting room.

"Joe!" Montgomery called out for you. "Are you alright? What did ya' doctor say?"

You were spooked, you froze in your tracks. Not noticing that Yves is a few steps away from you.

"Dear." You snapped your neck to the source of the quiet but assuring voice. Yves is now standing tall, his arms open for you to run into.

And so, you did. You buried your face in his chest, refusing to see the other man. Yves had a pleased smile as he picked your prescription script from your hands, he slid it into his handbag. Right after, he wrapped his arms around you.

The room was eerily quiet. Everyone was holding their breaths, wondering what was going to happen.

You felt Yves stroke your hair. But you couldn't see or hear anything. So you lift your head a little to see what was going on, he rested his palm on your shoulder.

Montgomery has his eyes open so wide staring at your boyfriend. His mouth is open but soundless. The veins on his forehead and arm were throbbing while he trembled uncontrollably.

"Do you know him, my love? He seems dangerous. You know you shouldn't mingle around men like him, they're usually raised by dysfunctional families- sometimes, they don't even have one." Yves asked you, soft enough for no one else to hear, but loud enough that his pathetic excuse of a rival absorbed every word. This was the last straw for Montgomery.

Finally, he dropped your bag to the ground before launching himself against Yves. Your boyfriend pushed you out of harm's way as he allowed himself to get tackled by the unstable male.

Yves closed his eyes as he took a devastating punch to the face, he was flung to the side from the force and it left a reddish mark on his once pristine face.

"Fuck you! The fuck you mean that's 'your love', you don't mean shit to them!" Montgomery yelled in Yves's ear, and a struggle ensued between them.

Screams and shouts filled the clinic, and the patients present all ran out of the room. Those who stayed tried to film the tussle. Some doctors and customers poked their heads out of the consultation rooms to see what the commotion was all about.

Whereas you grabbed your bag and went outside, securing your safety behind the tempered glass walls.

"You think you better than me?! I'll teach you a fucking lesson to be humble!" Montgomery swung at him again, but Yves dodged in time and utilized his long, slender legs to trip him. Now that he has gotten what he wanted out of this scenario, Yves allows himself to defend his own body.

He got up fairly quickly and tried to land another punch, but Yves grabbed his wrist on time and used minimal force to twist his arm against his back. Montgomery cried out in pain as his limb was contorted to an unnatural position. Being an opportunist, Yves took his chance to strike his broken rib using the side of his hand.

This made Montgomery's legs buckle on itself. You silently cheered for Yves as he subdued the creep on the cold hard tiles.

He pressed a heel against his chest, right behind on fractured bone. So Montgomery was powerless against him.

Yves reached for his handbag and pulled his phone out. He dialed emergency services and reported Montgomery as being aggressive, being a danger to the general public.

"Bullcrap! Fuck you asshole! I will kill you!" Screeched the man currently being stepped on and humiliated in front of his object of obsession. Unfortunately for him, the operator heard his threat towards Yves, increasing your boyfriend's credibility.

He tried to grab his leg, but Yves only drove his sharp heel deeper into his ribs, knocking the air out of him and making stars appear in his vision.

At the same time, the mall security arrives with their batons.

They took over from there, it took more than ten of them to try and get Montgomery under control. He was like a bull seeing red, only goal was to try and disfigure the pretty boy's face as much as possible.

He was forcefully expelled from the premises while kicking, howling, and straining. You saw the tears of anguish in his eyes as he cussed everyone out for treating him as subhuman, he wished horrible fates on all who witnessed but stood by. He was shouting incoherently about having everything stolen from him by the rich, he had one thing good going on but a billionaire had to come along and take you away from him.

He vowed to take what was rightfully his and punish the bad, especially Yves who he referred to as "That fucking queer freak".

Eventually, though, his yelling became inaudible as he got further and further away. The others returned to their day, dispersing as nothing else interesting was going on.

You walked up to Yves, who is now gently dabbing his bleeding nostrils with a folded piece of tissue. He smiled at you, caressing your cheek with his thumb.

"Well done." He praised. Disposing of the soiled napkin into a trashcan nearby.

You said you didn't contribute to anything good. In fact, you're the one who caused all this.

"Don't think too lowly of yourself." He picked up a hairbrush from his bag and started fixing your hair. You looked at his face.

The patch around his nose and under his left eye is already starting to bruise, swelling to a degree that he can only see out of his right. Red dripped down his chin and onto the floor, splattering into many dots.

You look around and see the broken pot, flipped chair, and scattered magazines.

You shudder, asking Yves if you could go home.

"Not yet, (name). The police should be here soon, they have to take my statement." He invited you into his arms, and you snuggled into him as his blood dripped onto you too.

"I packed you something to eat." He softly pried you off him. Reaching for his handbag once again, he retrieved a square container before handing it to you.

You opened it to see a sandwich. It's intentionally bland to accommodate your current weak stomach. As if on cue, your belly growled. However, Yves stopped you from devouring it.

"Always sanitize your hands before eating." He squeezed a good amount of hand sanitizer on your palms. Yves only handed the meal back to you after he was satisfied with your application.

You sit on a chair as you take bites off it. Yves sat next to you too, this time he was tidying his luscious black hair with the same brush and compact mirror.

You continued munching on as you heard distant sirens growing louder.

#yandere #yandere oc #yandere concept #yandere x you #tw yandere #yandere oc x reader #yandere male #oc yves #male yandere oc x reader #yandere x reader #oc montgomery #tw violence #tw blood #tw queerphobia #tw strong language

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fillinforlater · 2 years

Text

On her bottom (Part 1/2)

Male Reader x Cho Miyeon (ft. Monday, Xiaoting)

Length: 3338 words

Tags: DADDY KINK, degradation, self-degradation, dom!reader, sub!idol, anal, rough sex, hardcore, curses, name calling, overstimulation, begging, sex as service, blowjob, deepthroat, face fuck, hateful sex, foot job, (very rough) pussy slaps, emotional manipulation, failure!Miyeon / disappointed!Daddy

TW: the usual, please: Degradation, rough sex, name calling, pussy slapping

Inspiration: @sooyadelicacies and I just... we just pop when it comes to Daddy and his good/bad girls, yk?

Credit: @sooyadelicacies for co-writing and providing the pics!

(A/N: Read "On her knees" first for extra context. It's in the same universe, same OC. Part 2/2 will be released a couple days later!)

"Daddy, oh my God, I'm so close."

Monday is insatiable. Even if you could somehow shove your cock into her for 24 hours straight each day of the year it wouldn't be enough for her needy pussy. It doesn't concern you, but whenever you tend to her needs, it's annoying and exhausting. Not her pussy, not her ass, but her attitude mixed with her subbyness—you just can't help but fuck her.

Today, her face is buried into one of your couches while you fuck her doggystyle into it. Her wet hole clenches on nothing and squirts cum everywhere. She knows a group comeback is coming up (fucking finally) and is ready to take your last load deep into her defiled ass. With a final groan, you plunge it into her.

"F-fuck, Daddy! Thank you, Daddy, I love you!"

Monday tenses up one final time before you pull out. Her entire body suddenly relaxes and in seconds, she is soundly asleep. You roll your eyes and stretch your arms. You deserve some rest as well, but if you stay here any longer, she might wake up again and demand your cock with her subby eyes and killer body. You gotta get out of here—

Something unexpected: your phone rings. You hastily grab it to not wake up Monday (though nothing could wake her up from the new, sex-induced dreamland) and take the call. With no time to check who actually called, the voice surprises you.

"Hello?"

"Hi, Daddy~ Are you free for meeeee?"

"Miyeon? Why are you call—oh no, don't tell me."

"What? Doesn't Daddy want me to treat him well~? I know you must be stressed from all these greedy rookies and young sluts, ugh!"

You take a deep sigh of relief. Miyeon has hit the nail on the head and her offer sounds very much irresistible. Whatever she will do to 'treat you well', it's probably better than a desperate demand for a hard fucking which your hips and legs just can't take anymore.

"You are fucking right. They are greedy. But not as greedy as you. Calling me on my private phone to ask for me, ts, who do you think you are?" you joke and collect the designer clothes spread around your main living (and fucking) room.

"Oh? They still walk to your house to beg for cock? Do you still live in the 19th century, or what?" Miyeon jokes as well, but she knows very well why the new whores don't get to call you. They need to know their place and that their desires are last in line when it comes to relevance.

"You have earned that right to call me. So: where do we meet, bitch?"

"I'll send you the address and some pictures, Daddy. See ya~"

The second the call ends, you put on a plain, gray hoodie as well as sunglasses. You might not be an idol, but people might still recognize your face wherever you go. These short-term meet-ups should at least be enjoyed with some form of caution.

As you're about to leave your house, someone knocks at the front door. An annoyed looking idol, frustrated from dance practice, needy for stress relief and ready to do whatever it takes to get your cock. In the past, different names would pop up in your head. There was Jennie who did the same or Sana, but today it’s no other than Xiaoting.

"Oh. What the fuck are you doing here?"

"Daddy! P-please! Use my tight little holes, fill me with cum and—"

"Stop screaming your dumb whore!" you hiss and cover her mouth. The intimidated girl notices her mistake and begs for mercy through her glistening eyes. You look at her slutty attire, pencil skirt, thigh-highs, ripped shirt, hot glasses—but she made a mistake and unfortunately, you have no time for her.

"Why are you not on your knees? For sluts like you I have no time. I have business to attend to."

"B-but I will take your cock good, Daddy! My ass—"

You slap across her face and she drops to her knees with a disappointed whine.

"Crawl into the house. Kneel next to the door like an obedient dog and wait. I'll decide later if I have time for you, bitch!"

She nods quietly and crawls through the door and into the entrance hall. Her skirt is so short, you can see a diamond plug protrude from in between her firm ass cheeks. She almost got you there, but Miyeon is more important, your rest is more important then some cock-hungry rookie. You dart off immediately.

After this incident with one of your new pets, it gave you all the more reason to high tail to Miyeon's, to see someone who understood, no, was devoted to your pleasure and every word. Insolence could be fun to break, but it required energy. Miyeon was generous, she knew her function, her only purpose was to serve you. That's what you need right now. A good girl. And Miyeon was as good as they come, and she was very good at that too.

"Hello, Daddy~ come on in."

Before you even have the chance to fully open the door, Miyeon eyes you through its glass elements and pulls you in. The house looks very odd. The pictures left you with a lot of doubt, but now you are sure: this can't possibly be Miyeon's home. Where are you?

"Miyeon, what is this place? It looks like a cliche haunted house?"

The blonde doesn't listen and instead firmly grabs the crotch of your jeans while pressing her cheek onto your chest. She was always close, always clingy, and she loved hearing your heartbeat increase as she did her best to get you hard.

"Ah, fuck. Stop being so needy and answer my question first!"

"Daddy, let me take care of you, let me serve you, let me be your whore. I-I haven't been touched by anyone, Daddy. I keep myself pure just for you like you taught us..."

"Miyeon. Daddy asked you a question. Answer it," you say briskly. You were not in the mood for games. You came here to her for the exact intention not to play games. You only accepted flesh and holes and absolute loyalty.

"We filmed something here and I really liked the place. It's cozy, old and—I couldn't help myself imagining pleasuring you, Daddy."

You grab Miyeon's ass and press her closer into you. She yelps when your growing erection pokes her exposed midriff. No matter how high or hot her heels are, she'll always be shorter than you. Shorter, but the perfect size for a fleshlight.

"Your blond hair looks nice," you say, stroking it softly.

"Thank you, Daddy."

Your digits stop the strokes and start to tightly grab. Miyeon yelps again when you pull her head backwards and bestow her neck with your lips. A couple of heavy sucks by you and feral moans by Miyeon later, and a large hickey clearly marks her as yours again. Not that she wasn't before, but now everyone can see: this bitch is owned by someone. Miyeon's eyes sparkle in happiness at the branding.

"Daddy doesn't want to stand all the time. Show me where I can rest."

"Yes! Of course, Daddy! I've prepared everything to serve you. I-you won't have to call on anyone else tonight.."

You see how your influence still lingers on them. No matter what they achieved, the only thing that mattered was your happiness, your approval. You had hundreds of girls at your beck and call and to make such a bold claim that a single person would be enough for you, Miyeon sure felt confident.

"Hm, we'll see about that."

Miyeon guides you through the tight corridors of the old-looking house. You're unsure if the house really is old or if it is just meant to look that way for the music video. You are not unsure however if Miyeon is wet or not. As you walk, she still presses her ass backwards against your cock and expertly wiggles it to send tiny shots of stimulation up your spine. She really tries to be your guide and your cock tease at the same time. A dedicated slut is always welcome.

"Here it is. Everything for my Daddy!"

Miyeon's room was pretty and cozy, romantic even. It makes you become highly attentive. She wanted emotional attachment from you, something that always had to be earned. No one knows how, so some of them never try, but those that do always have a different way to get to your ‘soft side’.

You take one glance at what she prepared but it’s just nothing to you.

"Get to it, Miyeon. Why would I care about decor?"

"Th-then lay down, Daddy. I'll do my best. Don't wo-worry about a thing."

With the hope of Miyeon finally getting to the point, you lay down on the beautifully prepared bed. It too looked old and its creaking sounds ancient, but the mattress was insanely comfortable. Your high-end, super expensive mattress at home couldn't compare. You back has never felt something this incredible before—except of course for all the amazing tits of some of your favorite whores, but those are out of competition.

Miyeon eagerly pulls down your zippers and continues with your jeans and boxers. Your semi-hard cock springs free and she marvels at it. Miyeon was always one to worship your cock intently, and her hot gaze resting on your manhood made you feel powerful. You knew each second she was allowed to see it, feel it, choke on it made her feel alive. She once was a top class worshiper.

"Oh my God, it's so beautiful. Daddy, I waited so long for this."

With nothing in her way, she crawls in between your legs towards it. Her ass is high up, her face is right beneath it. Miyeon's lips reach for it, but as always, she gazes up at you and awaits your approval. If it's clothed she makes sure to tease it, but now, she is submissive for it.

"Pleasure me, slut. Do what you’re supposed to do."

Miyeon starts with a string of spit dripping from her mouth. She lets it coat your cock before jerking you off with her hand and finally elongating her tongue to swirl around your tip. With her other hand, she massages your balls. This was her favorite thing in the whole world. Your perfect cock.

"The things I would do for my Daddy's cock," Miyeon whispers and kisses up your shaft and then your tip, "I don't need to sing, when I can just choke on it everyday."

You are aroused, but unimpressed. Only when she commits and actually rams you in between her lush lips and down her throat, your eyes widen for a moment. Miyeon begins to gag and choke violently, but every sound she produces forces her to go deeper down on it. You groan when your tip reaches the back of her throat, but to your dismay, Miyeon lets herself breathe by releasing you.

"I don't need to be on stage, when I can just be on my knees all day and drool all over you."

You say nothing to her as you begin to reach for your phone. You were not impressed. She should have kept going, choking and gagging as your cock slammed the back of her throat, but instead of doing that, she spent more time telling you of the things she would do instead of just doing them. When did she get so chatty? Too comfortable. You realized your own error, you had been too lenient allowing her to speak, allowing her to call you freely and ask for your time. It was a privilege she didn't deserve to keep.

When she starts to deepthroat herself again, you strike. Her blonde locks are beautiful handles to pin her down on. This time, her gags are not a mere tease, they stimulate you. Drool isn't a mere word she dropped, drool is now really dropping, running out of her stuffed mouth and all over your balls. You intend to make her understand that this dedication to suffocation is the only way you'll be pleased with her. No words of commitment; actual commitment.

You pull up and slam her head down again. The time she had to breathe was miniscule. Tears stream down her face just like the drool she mentioned before. Miyeon tries to look through them and up to you, but she finds something way more vicious when you say demonically:

"If you don't make me cum in the next two minutes, I'll call your replacement."

This makes Miyeon jump. She frees herself from your hold, not because she could, but because you let her. She pulls down her pink and white skirt immediately and reveals juice covered lace panties in black. She also opens up her high heels to free her delicious looking feet from this stylish, yet useless prison.

Miyeon becomes bold, pulling up your hoodie and sitting down on your abs. You'd question her method and put her in her place, but when you feel her soft feet with white polish around your cock, you let it slide. After all, she doesn't say unnecessary words to get your attention anymore; instead she grinds on your abs and jerks your cock with her smooth soles.

"Make me cum with those feet whore. They are your saving grace right now. If you don't give me the greatest fucking footjob right now, you won't have the privilege to call me again. Maybe I'll call Yuqi, or..."

What made you a god to these whores was how you remembered every detail about them, what their desires were, what their vulnerabilities were. Miyeon was a hair away from debuting with Blackpink. It was always an insecurity of hers.

"I'll call Rosie or Jisoo. They give footjobs worthy of Daddy."

Miyeon strokes faster, with more ingenuity. She rolls her soles softly up and down your dick, with no certain intervals. The skill and texture of her feet is all she has left to redeem herself now and you intend on humbling even this remarkable ability of hers by reaching for your phone and not even looking at her or her work as she tries her best.

You scroll through your enormous contact list and check the clock in the meantime. One more minute. One minute and after that, Miyeon's self-worth will be ruined. All those fans out there couldn't cheer her up, no matter how hard they tried. Her reputation is decided by one person alone: you. If she could find a way to be put into place while still making you cum, it would be her last chance.

"Fuck! Ah!"

Miyeon screeches in pain. A noisy spank, then another and another, and Miyeon repeatedly cries out. Her body shudders after each spank and she caught your attention. You look down at her body from behind. Her footjob hasn't changed, it's still good, but not enough. It has also not made her worthy of your seed. What has changed however, is what happens in between her thighs. Miyeon has begun to slap her wet, covered labia over and over again. She doesn't hold back either, striking with all her power and crying real tears.

"Whore! The visual Miyeon, an absolute painslut. Spread your legs more!"

You begin to strike as well. Your first hit is as strong as her last, though it's only the beginning. You follow it up with a dozen more strikes, rapidly released, and Miyeon convulses in pain and pleasure. She leans further back into you and makes her feet squeeze your cock tightly.

"I'm so-sorry, Daddy! I-this bitch has f-failed. I need-d to be punished."

"Do you even fucking deserve a punishment? Why should I waste more energy? I came here to relax, to be served, to be pleasured. I thought I trained you better than this. It's why you're as free as you are, but maybe that was a mistake. I should have kept you longer to train you more. What a disappointment."

"You—ah—you're right, D-Daddy! I-I have failed, I have slipped, please b-bring me back!"

With a roaring, demonic sigh you pull aside the fabric separating Miyeon's pussy from your fingers. Her eyes widen as you don't hesitate to violently flick her clit. The line between pain and pleasure blurs for Miyeon as your hand almost blurs from the speed you go at her bundle of nerves. Miyeon's feet tense up unwillingly, yet they still try to squeeze out your load in the nick of time, to no avail.

"I thought you were all ready to go off on your own, to be at Daddy's beck and call but you aren't better than the new sluts I'm training now! I am so disappointed in you Miyeon. Is this what you really wanted? To fucking fail so you'd be back in Daddy's chambers? I hate weakness and incompetency."

Your anger makes you go even harder, to the point where Miyeon is speechless. Speechless because all her sensitive nerves above her pussy are in your grasp. She is unable to escape this grasp. It was her choice to be loyal to you, and for the couple of years she was, she never failed this badly. Tears not only streak down her gorgeous, flushed cheeks, they burst out of her eyes like fountains of despair. Her arms are mostly numb, only twitching from time to time under your violence. Her tongue is also numb, but through her cries, wails and moans, you still pick up her fragmented sentence:

"Please—Daddy, d-don't—fuck,ah—touch me. I d-don't deserve you! I do–I'm cumming!"

Your eyes were livid.

"You fucking bitch, you don’t know shit! You have no clue how to be useful at all, do you? I don't care if your group makes all the successful albums in the world or if you go on tours. No matter what you fucking accomplish, you're just another whore for Daddy. You have no say in any matter. You don't fucking decide if I touch you or not, how fucking dare you!"

Miyeon's mouth produces nothing but gasps and screams as her orgasm controls every inch of her body. She gushes copious amounts of warm girl juice onto your abs and crotch and it drips onto the sheets. A final slap on her cunt, then even her loudest noises subside and only whimpers and snot remains. The beautiful Miyeon looks like an absolute mess. Most of her make-up is already off of her face.

You remove her limb legs from your spent cock. It had been squeezed too tightly in the gap of her feet. She was supposed to service it, not play with it like a dildo. Her joy is a non-factore, especially in the matter of how you use her. You grab Miyeon's calves and fold her in half, a sort of full nelson position.

"Hold your legs steady like this, bitch!" you order coldly, "Stay like this and look at me."

You climb out from underneath her and watch her squirm when a phone camera hovers before her. A couple of flashes later and Miyeon truly understands how much power you have. Depending on who sees these pictures, her career might be fucked, her reputation ruined, her dignity annihilated. She begins to cry again, but you quickly hush her.

"Shut the fuck up. I'm gonna send them to a better bitch, a loyal whore, who will use her holes to service me properly. You think these photos could end you? No. I can already do it without these. Do you forget who I am? Who tamed and made so many like you? Saddest thing is, I didn't even get to fucking cum. What a waste of my time this was. Once you get your shit together, I expect to see you back in my chambers for re-education. Are we clear?"

(TBC...)

#kpop smut #girl group smut #female idol smut #miyeon smut #cho miyeon smut #gidle smut #miyeon gidle smut #male reader #male reader insert #male reader smut

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vigilante-3073 · 4 days

Text

Daddy's Credit Card

Cullen Family x Female Vampire Reader (Platonic)

PART 2

Summary: After what was supposed to be a simple baseball game, Bella finds herself being hunted by James. The family leaps into action to protect her, but will wild card Y/N fall into line or throw Bella to the lions?

TW: Mention of death and violence, lack of regard for the feelings/property of others, angst.

The Cullens rushed back to their home in a panic, quickly splitting into cars and formulating a plan on how they could protect Bella. James was an excellent hunter and they didn't stand a chance unless they went on the run.

Y/N leaned against the wall of the garage, watching the family scramble around and talk through possible strategies. She sighed softly to herself, thinking about how Edward should just let Bella die and move on.

Edward's head snapped in her direction, sending her a sharp glare, "Stop it," He growled. Y/N scoffed, silently resuming her task of picking the dirt from under her manicured fingernails.

"Y/N, go with Alice and Jasper. You have the strongest gift and you should be the last bit of defense around Bella," Carlisle said.

Y/N made her way over to them, Edward caught her arm before she got into the car, "If you let her die, I will never speak to you again," Edward said.

"Wouldn't exactly be a big loss," Y/N replied, tugging her arm out of his grasp and getting into the car.

Y/N put in her headphones, scolling on her phone as Jasper pulled out of the garage. They were headed to Phoenix, set on putting as much distance between Bella and the tracker as possible. Edward stayed behind, assisting Esme and Rosalie in spreading Bella's scent through the woods to throw the tracker off.

Edward had very little confidence in Y/N, she had become an unknown variable in the family's effort to keep Bella safe. Edward knew that she wouldn't hesitate to let Bella die if she were put in a position where she was the only one between Bella and the tracker.

He could tell that his threat had done nothing to change her mind, but he took comfort in knowing that Alice would monitor her decisions to protect Bella. Edward hated the rift that had formed between him and Y/N since he chose to love Bella despite their differences.

Y/N had become even more of a loose cannon since their argument and Edward found himself unable to even talk to her anymore. She had shut him out in every way aside from her thoughts, which grew more hateful with every passing day.

Spreading Bella's scent through the woods in Forks was found to be ineffective shortly after Bella arrived in Phoenix. The tracker changed direction and Edward rushed to follow him with Carlisle and Emmett.

They called Bella from the road to notify her of the change in their plan. Edward was planning to take her to Vancouver while the rest of the Cullen family hunted the tracker and his mate.

Y/N was laying on the bed in the hotel room, texting with a smile on her face. Alice found herself getting irritated, looking over at Y/N from her spot on the couch beside Jasper. Y/N hadn't said a word during the entire drive and now she laid there grinning at her phone like there wasn't someone actively trying to kill Bella.

"Could you at least pretend to care?" Alice snapped.

"Alice," Jasper said quietly, trying to calm her raging emotions before things could get out of hand.

"Would it change anything?" Y/N asked without looking up from her screen.

"No, but-" "Then no," Y/N stated, getting up from the bed.

"I'm going to the bar," She said.

"You should stay with Bella," Alice said, standing up from her spot on the couch.

"Are you going to come over here and stop me?" Y/N asked.

"Alice, let her go," Jasper said softly, trying to calm the heightened emotions in the room. Alice huffed, shaking her head as she sat back down.

"That's what I thought," Y/N muttered, making her way out of the room.

...

Bella made her way down to the lobby after talking to James on the phone. He had her mother and he was going to kill her unless Bella met with him at the ballet studio.

She peered around the corner, quickly spotting Y/N at the bar and Jasper standing on the other side of the room with Alice.

Bella's heart pounded in her chest as she quickly made her way towards the front door. She turned the corner, jumping as Y/N was suddenly standing in front of her.

"Where do you think you're going?" Y/N asked.

"I-I was just-" Bella started, desperately trying to think of an excuse.

Y/N raised an eyebrow, "Just what?" She asked, stepping closer to the human.

"I was just gonna get some air," Bella replied.

"Tell me where you were really going or I'll drag you up to our room and tie you to the radiator," Y/N said.

"James called me from my house. H-he has my mom," Bella said shakily.

"Let me guess... He wants you to come alone, you for her?" Y/N asked.

"Yes," Bella nodded.

"If you go, he's going to kill you," Y/N stated.

"I have to save my mom. Please," Bella pleaded.

"I could save you some time and break your neck right here if you want to die that badly," Y/N said.

"I don't want to die, but I have to save my mom," Bella repeated.

"I can give you a twenty minute head start. No more, no less," Y/N said.

"Thank you," Bella said, rushing out the door of the hotel.

"What a shame," Y/N sighed, making her way back over to the bar.

...

Edward and his family arrived at the ballet studio just in time to save Bella. She was injured, but alive. Edward was able to suck James' venom from Bella's veins before she turned and they brought her to the hospital to receive treatment for her injuries. Y/N returned to Forks with Alice, Jasper and Emmett while Carlisle and Edward stayed behind in Phoenix to be with Bella while she recovered.

Alice knew that Y/N let Bella leave the hotel but chose to keep it quiet because everything had worked out. She was definitely going to be monitoring Y/N's decisions more closely after Bella almost died because of her carelessness.

Alice was beginning to question how callous Y/N could really be, there was nothing inside her but anger and hatred. Y/N didn't care about anyone besides herself and it was becoming more apparent.

Bella and Charlie returned to Forks with Edward and Carlisle following closely behind. James' mate had vanished and Edward was not willing to risk leaving Bella without protection until she was located.

"Alice told me about what you did in Phoenix," Edward stated, standing in the doorway to her room.

Y/N flipped the page of her magazine, "I assumed that she would," She said, eyes remaining on the glossy pages.

"What is it going to take to get you to see how much I care about her?" Edward said.

"You have an infatuation with her, Edward. You don't love her," Y/N stated.

"I do love her," He said.

Y/N looked up at him, "Then turn her, let her live out an eternity in this house with you," She said.

"It doesn't have to be that way," Edward snapped.

"Yes, it does. You're a moron if you think it can work otherwise," Y/N said, looking back down at her magazine, "Get out of my room," She said, flipping the page.

"Bella is coming here tonight and I want you to stay as far away from her as possible," Edward said.

"Won't be an issue," Y/N muttered.

...

Y/N stood out on the balcony, watching the forest dim as the sun sunk below the horizon. She heard the door open behind her, not needing to turn around at the suddenly overwhelming scent of human blood.

"Edward doesn't want you around me," Y/N said.

"Yeah, I just wanted to say that I really appreciate what you did for me in Phoenix," Bella said.

Y/N scoffed, turning to look at the young girl, "What I did for you? You can't really be that stupid," Y/N said.

"I-I don't understand," Bella said softly.

"Don't mistake my indifference for compassion, Bella. I couldn't care less if you live or die," Y/N said.

"But I thought-" "The only reason I haven't killed you myself is because Edward would kill me for it," Y/N said.

"I didn't-" "With all due respect, which is admittedly a very minuscule amount, there is nothing of interest that you could say to me. This conversation is over," Y/N said, stepping around Bella and making her way back into the house.

Edward was standing by the doorway, obviously ready to interfere if the conversation went in a direction that Bella was not equipped to handle. His eyes followed her as she moved across the room, "You think I'd kill you to protect her?" Edward questioned.

"Am I wrong?" Y/N asked, looking over at him. Bella stepped into the house, lingering awkwardly by the doorway as she took in the sudden tension of the room.

"You're my family," Edward said.

"That's not an answer," Y/N replied.

She looked over at Bella, suddenly finding herself slammed back against the wall as the thought of tearing out Bella's throat came to mind.

Edward stared down at her, breathing heavily as he kept her pinned in place. A confused look crossed his face when he realized that there was no intention behind the thought. Y/N was just trying to get a reaction out of him to prove her point and he fell for it immediately.

Y/N looked up at him, watching the realization dawn on him as he slowly released her, "You treat me like a rabid dog that you need to chain up despite knowing me better than anyone in the entire world... I have never suffered a bigger betrayal and you still struggle to understand why I am so spiteful towards you," Y/N said.

"I never meant to hurt you," Edward said.

"But you did," Y/N stated.

"Y/N-" "I loved you," She said.

"I know," Edward replied.

She huffed a laugh, "You continue to surprise me with how callous you truly are. We're more alike than you'd like to believe, Edward," Y/N said, making her way out of the room.

#edward cullen x y/n #edward cullen x reader #edward cullen x oc #edward cullen #edward cullen imagine #twilight x y/n #twilight x reader #twilight imagine #twilight #carlisle cullen x you #carlisle cullen #bella swan #bella swan imagine

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pseudowho · 3 months

Note

Hi Mrs Haitch! First let me say that I adore your stories and the way you write the men in your fics. Not only are they hot and enjoyable to read but also they feel real and adult. I don't want to bash on anyone by saying this, but sometimes it's difficult to enjoy fics written by younger people when you're pushing 30 because they portray a different reality. Please, never stop writing!

Before getting into the next part of the ask I'd like to say that this is in no way a demand and I it's not my intention to trauma dump on you. I just felt like talking a little about my experience could provide a bit of context.

I just read the ask about the soft spot and, although I'm not a virgin, I'm a serial victim of bad sex. I would love technical (even if explicit) descriptions on how to find the famed spot. I think is really cool when women in the medical field talk about sexual health, and it could be good having this kind of knowledge on a famous fic blog like yours, since I imagine a lot of fic readers are either virgins or had less than ideal sexual experiences, like me.

I don't want to seem like I'm pressuring you though! I totally understand if you prefer to keep this kind of thing out of your blog. It's just that a while ago I read on another blog from a healthcare professional a post about how sex shouldn't hurt even in the first time and I was blown away (this happened years after I started having sex and after having deemed myself "defective" and doomed to painful sex to the rest of my life)

Sorry for the long ask. Sending lots of hapiness your way <3

Well, if it helps even one person, it is absolutely my pleasure to do so.

I'm sorry for your bad sex. Nothing excuses it, frankly, and I'm a firm believer that most people are profoundly shit at giving vagina-owners orgasms.

(you calling my blog 'famous' does not go unnoticed and I could blush. Shhhh.)

I think age comes with so much beauty. I am a staunch believer in the unifying power of people, and when groups of women support the ducklings of the group, the ducklings are far less likely to be led down the garden path, on what is 'normal' or 'abnormal' or 'good' or 'bad' in sex.

This is why men and the media fear strongly-bonded groups of women so much-- it's almost like we'll talk and start to take note of the real problems. Cats amongst pigeons, right?

Anyway...

Cw and tw: medical discussion, discussion of self-examination

So again, while the location of the g-spot varies in exact location from vagina-owner to vagina-owner, on average it is located 2-3 inches into the vagina, on the anterior vaginal wall.

What I mean by anterior vaginal wall is, if standing and facing forwards, it's the wall of your vagina closest to the front of you, rather than your back.

Picture posted again, for reference!

The g-spot is of variable size, usually the size of a large coin, and it may feel a bit rougher or ridged than other parts of your vagina, but becomes spongier or thicker and plusher when aroused or stimulated.

If you were to get two fingers on your dominant hand, reach inside the vagina up to the base of your fingers, and hook forwards, you should find it.

I suggest for the first time, finding it when you need to pee. This is because, the g-spot sits against the urethral canal (the tube you pee out of), and if you have a full bladder, you'll know you've found the g-spot because it will feel really sensitive and likely increase your urge to pee.

If you happen to orgasm with g-spot and clitoral stimulation while you have urine in your bladder, your chances of "squirting" (which, if you see my previous post, is almost certainly just pee) are much higher. It's a unique experience and you should try it. Put a towel down.

I find a good sized wand vibrator, inserted and positioned just-so, will give great continuous g-spot stimulation while you, or someone else, goes to town elsewhere.

Start combining all of the erogenous zones and it's party time.

As said previously, sensitivity is very variable. Exploring and knowing yourself is key to showing a partner how to pleasure you.

If you have sex with a partner who responds with anything other than "teach me" absolute enthusiasm, when you want to show them what works for you...if they 'try' for a short time, then give up? If they carry on doing their own thing anyway? If they're impatient?

Kick them to the curb. They can go fuck themselves.

Very much love as always,

-- Haitch xxx

#pseudowho #pseudowho answers you #Haitch #cw medical #G spot #Soft spot

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bp-zb1fics · 1 year

Note

Can you do "cuddles and kisses with lee jeonghyeon", i'm glad if u do something suggestive like lap sitting maybe?? thank youu!!

Ridiculous but you're mine~

pairing: leejeong x reader

genre: fluff, suggestive themes (pls see tags!)

tw/tags: flirting, kisses, making out, hand-holding, lap sitting, non-explicit/implied s*x acts, korean pet names, leejeong being the biggest simp and pretending to hate it (spoiler: he doesn't)

wc: 1592

summary: jeonghyeon values a lot of things but he’ll make an exception for you

a/n Hi anon~ I may have gotten a little carried away with the suggestive part but I hope it's somewhat similar to what you had in mind and it's not too much. Kind of played with a different format writing this fic, idk if it works or not but I am very proud of how it turned out. Any readers for this, please, please do let me know what you think and if I should add additional tags to this, ty!

Check my pinned for more fics~

Jeonghyeon wasn’t a touchy person. Not at all. No thank you.

He’ll accept skinship if he’s feeling indulgent, he’ll freely offer a hug if someone needs it but aside from that, he generally likes to keep his personal space, well personal.

Until you, that is.

You don’t even need to do anything. It’s a little infuriating actually.

You look at him and his brain completely short-circuits.

__________________________________________

“Leejeong-yah~”

He really regrets letting Mun Junghyun tell you about their “leejeong, mungjung cross.” God, that was embarrassing. And it was even more embarrassing because of how cute you thought it was and how cute he thought you were and now he has the displeasure of becoming even more flustered by his own damn name.

“Hmm?”

He’s putting his socks on, getting ready to go out because you wanted sushi and god forbid Jeonghyeon doesn’t give you what you want. It’s a little chilly so he throws on the black hoodie that you like because of how soft it is.

He reaches for his earrings and his eyes meet yours in the mirror as he looks up to put them on. Jeonghyeon nearly drops the damned earrings.

Don’t ask him to explain why. Literally no thoughts, head empty. He’s only beginning to recover when you walk over and give him a back hug, burying your face to the fabric of the hoodie while he just stands there, frozen like the idiot he is.

“Wahh so soft.” Your voice is muffled but Jeonghyeon is desperately fighting back the blush that threatens to bloom on his cheeks.

“We should go.” He manages to get out, glad that his voice didn’t crack.

__________________________________________

You hold his hand and any rational thought is reduced to ash.

__________________________________________

As soon as you get outside, the cold hits and Jeonghyeon immediately shoves his hands into his hoodie pocket. Before he can check on you, you’re already linking your arm with his and sliding your hand into your own pocket. Seriously, how can his heart take this?

“Are you cold?”

You shake your head, bouncing up and down a little. It’s very cute and really not great for his health.

“Sushi, let’s get sushi~”

You make your way to the restaurant. Jeonghyeon can’t help but look at you, glancing around occasionally to make sure you were following the right directions but eyes always coming back to you. And he can’t help but wonder what he had done right for the universe to decide to send you his way. Someone who loved him with all his scrappy imperfections and flaws.

Suddenly a gust of cold wind tickles the back of your necks and you yelp, one hand slipping out of your pocket and into his. Jeonghyeon freezes as you wiggle your fingers between his, pressing yourself closer like you want to sink into his side.

“It’s cold.”

You say in the way of justification, not like he even needs one. For the rest of the way, you walk like that and he can only ever feel your hand in his.

__________________________________________

You pout, just a little, and whatever values he has, personal, moral, family values, all out the window.

__________________________________________

The restaurant is a sushi train. You’re directed to a booth and left alone with a tablet in case you wanted to order something that wasn’t on the train.

Jeonghyeon begins taking plates. And it was only after you had a sizable serving in front of you that he realised he took all your favourites. Really, when did he become like this? When did it become an instant serotonin boost to see your face light up like that?

“Leejeong say ahhh~”

He mindlessly opens his mouth and lets you feed him. It’s good. Any food that’s given by you is automatically better than any other food. He’s never been one for public displays but you look at him expectantly, your bottom lip protruding ever so slightly.

It’s like he’s been hypnotised, carefully picking up a piece and feeding it to you. And no, he’ll never admit to anyone how endearing it is to watch you eat, your cheeks puffing out as you chew.

He’s a weak, weak man. And it’s all your fault, seriously it is.

__________________________________________

It’s ridiculous.

__________________________________________

You stumble back home, bellies full. Kicking your shoes off, you tug him towards the couch and switch on that one drama you insist he watch with you. Both of you started off seated. He sits cross legged while you tuck your feet to the side, his arm resting around your shoulder.

It’s not a new drama you’re watching. No, it's one of those that you like to come back to, one of those you watch without needing to think too hard or wonder what to expect.

Junhyeon sighs as you lean against him, comfortably pressing against his side. He watches you fondly as you mimic the dialogue on screen, the audio almost like white noise at this point. Suddenly you’re reaching up, fingers skimming feather-light across his jawline leaving little sparks in their wake.

“So handsome~” You murmur, letting your thumb ghost below his bottom lip. Jeonghyeon’s breath stutters.

“My Leejeongie, naekko!”

He’s going to die. You’re going to kill him. Belatedly, he realises that you’re just imitating the drama. Still, his stupid heart is ready to pound its way out of his chest. Before he can think twice, he gently grabs your hand in his and presses a kiss to your knuckles. You go quiet. Before he can drop your hand, you pull yourself closer, nudging at him until you’re kneel-sitting between his thighs, his legs stretched out on the couch.

You drop his hand in favour of resting your palms on his shoulders to balance yourself. His arms are limp by his sides. Jeonghyeon almost stops breathing as you lean forward, your noses nearly touching, trying to keep his cool. You peck the corner of his mouth. He’s an absolute goner at this point.

For the next few minutes, he lets you litter kisses all over his face, sweet on his forehead, making his cheeks flush hot, his teeth clenching as your lips brush a trail along his jaw. You chip away at his sanity every time you bring your lips to his and pause just before they touch, leaving his mouth a little more dry every time. The last straw is when you bite playfully at his collarbones, giggling at the look of utter distress that washes over his face as you tease up his neck. By the time your lips once again ghost against the corners of his, his hands grab needily at your waist.

“Dammit aegiya, please.”

Jeonghyeon breathes out shakily and you flash him a coy little smile that does bad, bad things to his heart before you finally kiss him.

__________________________________________

God, you’re ridiculous.

__________________________________________

Jeonghyeon can’t stop kissing you.

His teeth scrape slightly against your bottom lip and you gasp. Your tongue flicks out to drag across the roof of his mouth and something so good just bursts in his brain. Hands squeeze your waist again, you squeak and they stroke your sides as if to soothe, sliding down to rest on your thighs. You shift, gripping to the front of your boyfriend’s hoodie and just like that, you’re fully on his lap, straddling him.

If nothing, Jeonghyeon only gets needier.

He’s mouthing at your neck, tongue teasing mindless patterns at the places he knows are sensitive. The little noises that escape you set off tiny firecrackers in his head. Your hands clench uselessly before finding their way to his hair and tugging. Heat blooms at the pit of his stomach and he bites a little harder than he meant to. The strangled noise that it draws from you is delicious and your hips jerk forward, creating friction that has him groaning. His mind is empty, save for the thought of you, how desperate he is for you.

Fingers slip under this hoodie to fidget with the waistband of his pants, every touch against bare skin has him inhaling sharply, his eyes dark and pupils blown out, staring at you in a way that has heat coursing through your whole body. He’s become bold enough to rest his palms over your ass, slipping them into your back pockets and squeezing. Your hands go a little lower and he bites back a curse, resting his forehead on your shoulder, eyes fluttering shut. Any sense of composure is tossed aside, neither of you bothering to see where it’s gone.

It’s all shaky breathing, gasps swallowed up by lips on lips, fabric rustling and the desperate repetition of each other’s name like a plea to the universe to mould your bodies together so that you’d never be apart from each other.

Jeonghyeon’s basking in the afterglow, both of you struggling to catch your breaths. He’s as boneless as you are, languidly draping yourself on top of him, sprawling almost, limbs loose and liquid-like. You giggle and that’s when he notices the drama still playing in the background.

Hands reach for his own, and he swears he can see the stars in your eyes. You’re absolutely going to be the end of him. His heart and his mind and his body and his soul, dangling into the precipice that is you. It’s absolutely idiotic, letting himself drop in so deep, not caring about when he’ll have to hit the ground, running.

__________________________________________

And yet, he’s the one who’s ridiculous enough to fall for you, over and over and over again.

#boys planet 999 #boys planet fics #boys planet drabbles #boys planet x reader #boys planet #boys planet mnet #kpop scenarios #kpop fluff #kpop fanfic #kpop fics #kpop imagines #kpop drabbles #lee jeonghyeon #lee jeonghyeon x reader #lee jeonghyeon fic #lee jeonghyeon drabble #tw suggestive #suggestive

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missmaywemeetagain · 2 years

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Pink Scarf - PART 18.2 (Elvis/Austin!Elvis x Reader)

Character/Fandom: Elvis - Elvis (2022)

Requested: kinda

(Read more here--Pink Scarf Series Masterlist!)

Prompt: You are part of Elvis Presley's coveted inner circle, and the currently-disgruntled wife of one of the members of Elvis' famous entourage, the Memphis Mafia. After Elvis' dynamite first performance in Vegas, you find yourself in deep water when his magnetism finally gets to you after all these years. [ Fem!Reader ]

TW: Sex. SO MUCH ANGST. Medication/drug use/overdose. Dub con (sort of?). References to medical trauma, miscarriage, infertility. Blood. Cussing. Infidelity. Historical inaccuracies in the Vegas timeline. Priscilla doesn't exist in this timeline.

Rating: Explicit/Mature (NSFW, 18+, so minors Do NOT Interact) || Word Count: 16.3k (LOLOLOLOLOL)

A/N: Y'ALL, I'M SO SORRY, it's a monstrosity. I couldn't help it. There was just so much to be said while still in E's POV, so that's how we ended up here, over 16k. But we finally learn Elvis' BIG SECRET and experience the mighty fallout from that in his eyes, so hopefully it's worth it. This is my Thanksgiving gift to all of you, but you may want to pace yourselves. I feel like I had to rip my heart out a little bit to really get in E's headspace. Prepare yourselves emotionally. That's all I will say.

A quick note about the pictures...the first is actually from when he bought Graceland in March 1957 and it just works PERFECTLY for the beginning. I couldn't resist the pics from Red West's wedding in 1961, even though I know the timeline and the people don't match but the VIBES, the VIBES my friends, are oh so Jack and Reader's wedding so I just had to include them. The one for 1960 was taken the night of the Rollerdome. *sob*

If you so desire, you should now have the ability to tip my blog or different chapters in the story! Some of you have been asking about this, and of course, no one is obligated to do so! If you do choose to tip, thank you so much! I've never had anyone want to pay for my work before, so this is a big step towards my romance novelist dreams. 💜

Speaking of Thanksgiving, I am so FREAKIN' GRATEFUL for every single one of you babies, honeys, and lil' mamas supporting me out there, YOU ARE EXTRAORDINARY which is always evident but especially so when someone tried to steal PS last week and y'all went 'ride or die' for me instantly, without question, getting it taken down in record time. I didn't in a million years expect this kind of support and response for Pink Scarf, and your reactions, reblogs, messages, asks, and comments you've given me have been a blessing beyond expression. You all are the best community a writer could ask for! Thank you so much for your support. I am loving getting to know y'all better! I love every single reaction and comment and ask, and I'm sorry if I don't get back to them all as soon as I'd like but know that I love you all and am so excited to be making new friends! And a big "Hey, Y'all!" to our friends from Elvis Twitter, Elvis Discord, and Elvis Instagram--I see and appreciate you coming over to join us! 👀💋

If you feel so moved, please let me know what you think or how you're feeling (or send me asks)! I think I put everyone on the taglist who requested it, but please let me know if there are any issues or if I missed anyone. There seem to be some issues with tagging that I can't seem to fix, so please know I'm not leaving you out intentionally! Also, if you comment on a previous part that you want to be tagged, I might not always see it, so feel free to message me if I miss you!

I imagined this with Elvis in mind, but Austin!Elvis works here, too, whatever floats your boat!

Apologies in advance if there are any grammatical errors or TW that I didn't catch.

(I did start cross-posting Pink Scarf to my AO3 account, as well as my NEW Wattpad account. so if you are so inclined, you can check it out/support me over there with kudos and votes and whatnot!)

(Elvis in March 1957, Graceland)

March 1957

Elvis parks in front of your house, his mind whirling with noise. He’s not exactly sure how he ended up here, but as soon as he’d gotten off that train, he knew he needed something that he couldn’t get from any of the guys or even his mama. So, he finds himself unexpectedly here.

Turning off the car, he seeks any sort of relief from the heartache he feels. He’s been holding it all in since the train stop in New Orleans, the one that sent the world crumbling under his feet, destroying the pretty picture he’d had for the future. But all that is gone now and here he sits, hands tapping on the steering wheel with nervous energy.

He nods to himself, finally leaping out of the car, and then he saunters down the walkway to the front door. The chime of the doorbell can be heard through the door, and he listens carefully, grateful to hear light footsteps from beyond.

When you open the door, it’s like he can breathe again for the first time since the train pulled away in New Orleans. You look surprised to see him, those big eyes of yours widening the slightest before you speak.

“Elvis, you’re home?” you ask with a hint of confusion, but overall, you seem pleased at finding him on your doorstep.

“Just got in, baby,” he says, that boyish smile curving up. He gathers you up into a big bear hug and instantly feels better as he breathes in the unique scent of your shampoo and lingering perfume. A scent that feels like home.

“And you came right here?” you ask, brow furrowing when he pulls away. He notices that you look a bit worn around the edges, darker circles rimming your eyes as if you haven’t been sleeping well.

You’re right to be confused. Of course, he hadn’t planned to see you right away. He’d planned to sweep June off her feet in New Orleans, wanting to show her Graceland immediately, the home he’d thought they’d share together for the rest of their lives. But all that had been dashed as soon as she’d blurted out that she was engaged to another man. Engaged. His June.

“I want to show ya something,” he blurts out instead of saying any of this. “It’s a surprise! Will ya come?” Oh, god, you have to come, he thinks. His heart might shatter if you don’t, though he’s not exactly sure why. You’re not his—you and Jack have been dating for nearly a year—so it’s not as though if you don’t come that it really means anything. Yet, still he hopes. He needs this. He needs to share this moment with someone he cares about.

Despite the fatigue in your eyes, you nod quickly, and then as if you can’t leave the house fast enough, you grab your purse and coat and shut the door behind you without a word.

He smiles gratefully, and relieved, he grabs your hand and practically skips to the car. Once he has you tucked in safely, he runs around the front of the Cadillac, jumps in, and peels away. It’s not too far of a drive, and he yammers on about the last few months he’s been away, the words flying out of him. You nod and ask all the right questions, but he notices that you are pensive, quieter than usual.

His verbal diarrhea halts for long enough for his brain to take into account that you don’t seem your usual self, and he asks, “Are you okay?”

You look down at your hands and then out the window, as if contemplating if and how much to share, which makes him a little nervous. Your fingers twist in your lap.

“Honestly? It’s been a hard few weeks, E,” you finally say, still unable to meet his eyes. “My nana passed last Tuesday.”

He’s mortified that he’d just been going on and on about himself and here you were dealing with such a loss. “Oh, darlin’, I’m so sorry. I-I didn’t know. I know how close you two were,” he says remorsefully, reaching his hand over to clasp one of yours.

You shake your head, sniffling back tears. “It’s okay, you’ve been away. There was no way for you to know. And I keep telling myself that she’s in a better place now, but that doesn’t really help all that much. I guess it still doesn’t seem real.”

He nods, because he can’t seem to think of anything to say that will make any of this better for you. “We can do this another time, baby, if you’re not feeling up to it,” he finally gets out.

“No, no. I need something to do instead of moping around the house. I’m worn from being sad and worrying about the rest of it. No, I’m glad you showed up, E. I can’t wait to see your surprise,” you add quickly, trying for a smile.

“The rest of it? What’re you so worried about, baby?” It’s obvious you don’t expect him to pick up on that because he sees the quick look of panic that flashes over your face at the question, so he’s quick to add, “I mean, you don’t hafta talk ‘bout it if ya don’t wanna, but I can tell somethin’ else is weighin’ on ya.”

“You could say that,” you sigh, raising your eyes to the roof and back down again. The twisting fingers are back. “God knows I haven’t been sleeping, and it’s giving me these terrible headaches.” You pinch the bridge of your nose for respite. “I…well, I’m not sure it’s a good idea to tell you, Elvis, because it’s about Jack, and I really don’t want him to think I’m running around telling everyone our business.”

A warning rush rolls over him at this because he suddenly and very desperately wants to know what has happened with Jack, and that is a dangerous game for all kinds of reasons, many of which he’s not ready to admit to himself.

“I swear and cross my heart I won’t say a word, if you wanna tell me,” he says instead, a little too eagerly, so he quickly adds, “If it’ll help ya feel better and all.”

He forces himself to watch the road and not you, but he can practically hear your mind whirring.

“Oh, fine, but not a word out of you to anyone, Elvis Presley, I mean it. I know how bad you are with secrets,” you glare at him.

“I promise, I promise!” he concedes, crossing his heart. “I swear on my mama!”

“Well, in the midst of all this with Nana, I found out that Jack was dating other women a while back while we were going together. Apparently, I thought we were exclusive, but he didn’t, and well…” you trail off bitterly.

Elvis has to bite his tongue and bite it hard because somehow this wasn’t what he expected, and oh, lord, he knows too much for comfort.

Thankfully, you take this as him listening intently, because you continue, “I know I shouldn’t be too mad at him. I suppose it’s an honest mistake, seeing as maybe we didn’t communicate clearly enough about where we stood with each other. But it was so obvious to me, and I don’t understand how it wasn’t obvious to him. It’s not like I was going around with other guys all the time! I know it was months ago, but damn if it doesn’t really sting. Part of me feels like such an idiot, you know? What else don’t I know about him and what he’s doing? It just makes it hard to trust him, even though he was truthful about it when I asked.” He can sense the conflict in you, as your voice fills and shakes with the emotion of your held-back tears.

His heart is beating fast now, and all he is seemingly able to do is nod furiously, as if agreeing vehemently with all you are saying. The problem is that Elvis is complicit in all this and you have no idea. You have no idea that he was the one who pushed the showgirls onto Jack when he came to visit him in Vegas in November. You have no idea that “dating” didn’t have much to do with it at all. And now he feels altogether shitty for being the one to put Jack in that position in the first place. He’d managed to spread his own unfaithfulness and debauchery right on over to Jack, and now you are the one paying for it.

Shit.

Although, knowing Jack, it’s also possible that there was other dating happening, too. Either way, Elvis knows he’s got to tread real careful here and needs to keep his trap shut.

But Elvis can’t stand that hurt look in your eyes when he dares to take his eyes off the road to glance at you. He hates how angry and sad you look, the blue-black circles under your eyes conveying your distress.

And his emotions feel complicated, too complicated for comfort. He suddenly wonders if he didn’t present Jack with those temptations on purpose because there is a very deep and selfish part of him that desperately wants you to kick Jack to the curb for this, and that terrible, selfish part of him wants you to finally see Elvis in the same way he sees you.

Maybe there’s a reason that things didn’t work out with June, that voice pokes at him hopefully.

Stop that shit right now.

All this is playing through his head and leaving him outwardly silent. He realizes he has to say something, anything, because you are waiting for him to do so.

“I-I’m sorry that happened, ‘specially finding out at the same time as all this with your Nana. W-What are you gonna do about Jack?” he says, trying not to gulp.

He watches your eyes narrow and then he quickly looks back at the road. He can feel you shift in your seat.

“I…well, right now, I wanna pummel his brains out, so I told him I need some space to figure out what I want to do. I just—I thought we…” you trail off dismally. “I don’t want to go through this again,” you add quietly.

Elvis knows you are talking about Ted. Stupid Teddy who stepped out and got Judy Cole knocked up and then left you brokenhearted in his wake. It still pisses him off, even though he knows he’s got no right to judge Ted, not now, not after all the foolin’ around he’s done.

But when it comes to you, he can’t help but be protective. It’s in his bones, the way he wants to take care of you. In fact, he wouldn’t mind punching Jack in the face right about now for hurting you like this. And he’s even more pissed at himself for his part in it all.

Elvis just wants you to be happy and to be with a man who deserves you, and deep down, he doesn’t know if that man is Jack, even though he loves Jack like a brother. But the real problem is he’s not sure if he thinks any man will ever be good enough for you.

But his brain is wary to dwell on the meaning of that, wanting to avoid anything else that feels uncomfortable, so instead, he lets the excitement of showing you his new home overshadow any other unwanted feelings he might be experiencing.

“Okay, baby, we’re almost there, so close your eyes,” he says excitedly, changing the subject abruptly, before pulling up the long drive.

“Alright, Elvis, this better be a big surprise with how hyped up you are,” you chuckle, letting the mood turn by doing as you are told.

“The biggest,” he breathes, sliding to a stop in front of the Colonial mansion. “Don’t open your eyes yet! I’ll come around!”

You wait until you hear the car door open and feel his hand take yours. He gently brings you out of the car to standing, an excited energy vibrating through him.

“Okay, darlin’, open!” he drawls dramatically.

You do, blinking out the early Spring sunlight. He watches your face light up as you take in the architecture.

“Oh my god, Elvis, it’s beautiful,” you say in awe. “Is it yours?”

“Yes, baby, it’ll be all mine very soon. And for Mama and Daddy, of course,” he adds hastily, as if you’d thought he’d abandon his parents.

“Of course,” you smile, looking at him with those pretty, though tired, eyes of yours. “Can we go inside?” you ask.

All he can do is nod excitedly. Elvis takes your hand, pulling you up the steps and past the huge white columns on either side. He can’t unlock the door fast enough, the keys rattling and shaking in his hands. Once inside, he pulls you through the house, mouth running a mile a minute about what he wants to do in each room, how he wants it to look.

Finally, you make it to the top level, the last room. “This is gonna be my bedroom,” he rambles on. “I’m gonna get the biggest bed you’ve ever seen in your life, made special.”

You gently pull your hand out of his, and he watches as you take a small pill bottle out of your purse and pop two of the pills before downing them dry. Aspirin, probably, for the headache you were talking about in the car.

“E, stop a minute,” you say. “This is all amazingly wonderful and beautiful, and I am so excited for you, but…well, what exactly am I doing here?” You look at him with curious and concerned eyes.

“I…uh…I…,” he stammers, unsure of what to say or how to say it, as it’s all been spinning inside for hours and hours. He looks away, unable to meet your eyes. He certainly doesn’t want to put any of his stuff onto you, not now, not after what you told him earlier. His hands fall to his sides, and he shakes them, wiggling his fingers like he does to come down after a show. It doesn’t help. There’s just too much emotion rolling through him all the sudden.

You step to him, first putting your hands on his shoulders, then you run them gently down his arms before grabbing his flailing hands, absorbing some of that wild energy. The feeling still manages to send little electric shocks through him, even after all this time. Only then does he finally still and dare to look at you.

“E, what’s wrong? You let me talk earlier, so why don’t you tell me what’s really going on?” you ask, your eyes searching his, open and concerned. He should’ve known you’d see right through him. Maybe that’s why you’re here, because he knew you’d understand, that you’d be able to tell he wasn’t okay when no one else cared to.

It takes a moment for him to gather his words as his emotions get in the way. Emotions he stoically hid from the guys the rest of the way to Memphis. Emotions he pushed down when he saw his mama because he just couldn’t bear to break her heart yet with the news. God, he’s spent so much time recently learning how to hide everything real about himself in order to become the man everyone wants him to be. But here, now, with you, it all begins to overflow.

“I-I-I told June to meet me in New Orleans. I-I w-w-was gonna bring her back here, to show her w-what I-I wanted to buy…for us,” he says, bouncing on his toes, tears welling and clouding his vision. He hates how it’s tearing him in two to say this.

You squeeze his hands, urging him to continue, and for you, he does.

“But when I-I got there, she was acting so strange. There w-wasn’t much time and, uh, she told me she’s engaged to someone else.” He blinks and the tears run over, finally spilling down his cheeks. Saying it out loud suddenly makes it feel all too real. His chest aches with betrayal, with loss.

You look at him with such care, though you do not look shocked at this news.

“Oh, I’m so sorry, E. I know you how much you loved her,” you say, squeezing his hands again gently.

‘Loved.’ As in past tense.

“Did you know?” he asks suddenly, stepping back, eyes narrowing suspiciously.

You take a conscious deep breath. “No, I didn’t. But she did call me a few times wondering where you were, if you were okay. She said she hadn’t heard from you in months…” you say awkwardly, petering off.

“Aw, shit,” he curses, running a hand through his greased hair. A wave of anger rolls through him, burning him from the inside, but as much as he wants to put it on June and her spiteful engagement, he knows the anger is mostly towards himself. He fucked up. He fucked around. And he’d expected June to just sit back and wait for him while he did it. He didn’t even make the time to call her.

And you know what he’s done. He can see it on your face. He looks down, unable to meet your eyes.

You don’t speak. You don’t lay into him or tell him he’s an asshole, although it might be better if you did. God knows he’s already thinking it. You just look at him with sadness and understanding and forgiveness, even though he doesn’t deserve it.

With that ache in his heart, he finally realizes that he couldn’t have loved June the way he said he did and then leave her hanging like that. But he did love her…at least, he had. They’d had such a beautiful summer together and he was sure he wanted to marry her, once his fame was settled. Three years, he’d told her.

Shit, I didn’t even make it six months, he thinks absently.

And then everything changed almost overnight. His fame exploded. There was Hollywood, then Vegas. And the girls, good god, there were so many beautiful girls who wanted him, needed him, who threw themselves at him. He’d been weak. He hated being alone. He couldn’t help it. It was just sex, he’d told himself, just a way to blow off steam as his world became smaller and smaller and nearly suffocated him. A thousand excuses run through his head, but in the end, it was his choice not to pick up the phone. It was his choice to screw around, to live this life.

It’s no wonder that June moved on, he thinks. I’m a first-rate asshole.

“Y/n, I messed it all up,” Elvis finally chokes out. The sob fully breaks the dam holding him together, the pressures of his fame and the realization hitting him like a truck: he is never going to be able to have that normal life with a wife and kids he’d once dreamed of. His knees buckle under the weight of all of it—his decisions, both good and bad, the fame he doesn’t know what to do with, the unexpected consequences of this privileged but isolating life he’s chosen.

He sinks to his knees, defeated, on the carpet of his future bedroom, the one he’ll probably never share with someone who loves him for who he truly is. Because he isn’t just Elvis Aron Presley anymore—he is “Elvis Presley,” the celebrity, the commodity, the fantasy.

While he relishes in the luxuries of it all, in being able to provide the life his family deserves, a small part of him cannot help but feel like he’s made a deal with the devil. That this talent he has been blessed with will also be the thing that damns him. He is overcome by the feeling that he’ll never know ever again if he is loved for who he really is, or if it is his fame and his image they love. And there is something about that that crushes his soul.

But he can’t say all this to you because it sounds dramatic and indulgent, and he knows there are very few people in this world who’d actually understand. This is his cross to bear.

And yet you still comfort him. You are still here. “Oh, hon, I know. It’s okay, I know,” you say, kneeling down with him.

In the midst of all he’s achieved and gained these past few years, June is the representation of all that he stands to lose, all that he’s already lost. “She was my last chance, y/n. I’m never gonna be able to trust that a woman loves me for me and not for my fame after this. And I screwed it all up,” he says quietly, tears running freely. “I just feel so fucking alone.”

“Oh, that’s not true, Elvis, it’s not,” you say, pushing his hair out of his eyes. “You’ll find her, I know you will. And you have so many people who love you for just being you, not for the fancy cars or the mansion or the fame. You’ve got your family, you’ve got Jack and your true friends. And you’ve got me.”

The way you say it, so softly, yet so matter-of-fact hits him hard, so hard that his heart stops beating for a moment. If he wasn’t already kneeling, the honest way your tired yet beautiful eyes search his face might knock him right off his feet.

It’s you, it’s you, it’s always been you, he thinks suddenly. This is the feeling he was avoiding in the car. The feeling he’s been avoiding since he watched Jack kiss your cheek in the diner a year ago.

It takes his breath away. You take his breath away, you always have. He’s been enamored with you since you plowed into him all those years ago in the hallway at Humes High.

Suddenly, June is all but forgotten because you reach up, cupping his face in your cold little hands and wipe a tear off his cheek. He cannot help the way his eyelids flutter closed at the sensation of the pad of your thumb dragging softly across his face. His breathing, rapid from his cries is now labored for another reason entirely.

Opening his eyes slowly, he shouldn’t be shocked to see tears in yours, your grief and sorrow, not only for yourself, but for him, too, welling there, as if you are connected to him. In fact, Elvis feels like his brain is short-circuiting because you are too damn close and the tension in the room is suddenly so thick, he feels like he might suffocate.

Every cell in his body feels on fire as you lean in closer and closer until your lips press against his forehead. You’ve never kissed him, not once in all these years, and this alone sends heat rushing through his young body. Then when you kiss his nose, and then one tear-stained cheek, he holds his breath, feeling like he might die from this chaste sensation.

Warning bells explode in his brain because suddenly he wants you more than anything in this world, always has. And now you are so close. This is Jack’s girl, he thinks, and she’s my dear friend. Don’t be an idiot.

But when you lean in to kiss his other cheek, you place your lips alarmingly close to his, his tears wet underneath your soft lips, and his body is on high alert as only a twenty-two-year-old’s could be. His heart flutters as you pull back just enough to look deeply into his eyes, tears shining in your own, and then you lean in once more.

This can’t be happening. This should not be happening, his mind screams, but then your lips are grazing his and all rational thought ceases to exist.

You taste so sweet.

Heat blooms through the ache in his chest, and in his disbelief, he freezes. Part of him wants to devour you whole, but he is terrified that if he moves, he might spook you and he cannot bear that.

His confusion is overridden when your hands, shaking but demanding, pull him closer. Your lips are soft and sure, and he cannot help but be swept away by them. He’s kissed so many girls, too many to count, all over the country, but not one has ever made him feel like this, like his heart is going to leap out of his damn chest.

But this is a betrayal of a monumental kind, for both of you. While he is no stranger to betrayal, he does not want this for you. As much as he wants you with every fiber of his being, he does not want to be the source of your regret or heartache. He’s already done enough in that regard already, though you don’t know it. Mustering up every ounce of his self-control, Elvis pulls out of your kiss.

“Y/n, baby, you don’t want this. I’m no good for you this way,” Elvis says in a hushed tone, his forehead resting against yours. “I-I can’t have you regretting me, I-I-I couldn’t bear it.”

You lean back the slightest bit, and he thinks you might be listening, reconsidering, making him feel mostly dismay but also a little relief. What he does not expect is for you to press your little pointer finger up against his lips, hushing him, as you stare into his eyes. It’s as though your soul is as weary and needy as his and it feels as though you see him, truly see him, which is a new feeling for him. This sends a welcoming shiver down his spine, and he knows that despite every scrap of logic and propriety he is trying to lean on, with you he is powerless.

When your finger drags down his lips, catching on the bottom one, it sends a bolt of pleasure straight to his groin. Yet still he resists (even though he wants more than anything to see where this is going), thinking you might realize your mistake, and this will all be over in an embarrassed, yet still salvageable, flash.

Instead, you very deliberately scoot closer, your knees bumping his on the carpet. You lean in again, your lips grazing his again with a yearning he cannot help but return in kind. It’s barely a kiss, but the intent is there and when you pull up, effectively opening your mouth to him, the way he can feel your warm breath mingling with his own has him struggling to control himself.

You are testing him, testing the waters, hesitant but somehow insistent at the same time. His long lashes flutter closed when your fingers brush his jaw then rake into his perfectly styled hair. But it’s when the tip of your tongue touches his, sending a hot shockwave through him, that he can stand it no longer and closes the gap between your mouths with a longing sigh.

Pressing his pliant lips to your yielding ones, he rolls his tongue softly but firmly against yours, earning him a quiet moan from you. This is like fuel on the fire, finally spurring him into action, and his hands fly to the back of your head, pulling you closer.

If there is one thing besides music that Elvis excels at and loves to do, it’s kissing. He plays with it the same way he plays a crowd, listening to you and adjusting his performance as necessary. The buzzy way it makes him feel, like every nerve is magnetic, is one of the only things in this world that is anything like how it feels for him to perform for an audience. He loves the way it makes him feel.

But kissing you is unlike anything Elvis has experienced before. It’s as though you are tuned to the exact same frequency, finding his rhythm immediately, adapting easily. The usual fumbling of people getting acquainted in this way does not seem to apply to the two of you, the ebb and flow so natural it’s as though you had done this with each other many times before.

But the passion of it stokes a fire that has been denied a long time. Intense heat crashes over him, sending tendrils of warmth through his limbs and deep into his belly. He drinks you in as deep as he can without being desperate, and oh how close he is to being desperate for you. His grief over June melts away the more he tastes you, and he wonders how he ever lived before having the taste of your lips on his.

It's all very dramatic and romantic, which he is both at heart. From just a few kisses, he suddenly knows that if he could kiss you and only you for the rest of his life, he would be a happy man indeed. This surprises him.

But what truly shocks him is when you lean so far into him that it pushes him over, his knees screaming a little, and he falls back into the wall with a thump. He scrambles backwards, maneuvering his long legs into a more comfortable seated position while you don’t even miss a beat or attempt to come up for air. And when you crawl into his lap, hoisting the flowing fabric of your dress up just enough so your warm, bare thighs are straddling his, his heart actually flies right out of his goddamned chest.

Speaking of which, you are currently running your hands down his, pulling his silky shirt up enough to dance your fingertips over his stomach. His breath hitches then hisses at that, his arms involuntarily encompassing you, large hands splaying across your back to draw you ever nearer.

And you go willingly, inching up his lap until you are straddling his hips. When you grind down into his lap, he thinks he might’ve died and gone to heaven, his blue eyes rolling back into his head with a low moan.

He'll admit he’s dreamed of this, fantasized about this, but nothing could truly prepare him for the reality of the way you are making him feel. A trickle of attraction that began six years ago is now a roaring river, and is so, so much more than anything he’s felt before with anyone else.

He doesn’t understand it. He loves women. He always falls in love too fast, enjoying the rapid descent into the madness of it all. There have only been a few that he feels were true, though every girl he’s with, he loves in his own way.

But you are not like any of them, not at all. With you, it has been slow, so gradual sometimes that he didn’t even realize it. A teenage crush turned into friendship, and within that has blossomed a love that he didn’t know he was capable of. It is not until this very instant that he realizes it truly for what it has become. He doesn’t just care for you. He loves you.

He is in love with you.

Fuck.

Realizing this as your hips begin to rock steadily over his crotch is not the best timing. He’s as hard as a rock, fighting both the swell of his physical need for you while wrestling with the emotional needs he’s quickly realizing at the same time.

If he didn’t love you, he might not care if this is just a quick fuck between friends, but he does care. And he’s worried about where this is coming from, likely your overall grief and your anger at Jack. No, he doesn’t like the messiness of that at all.

But another grind of your pelvis into his, coupled with your tongue down his throat has the physical quickly taking over any and all rational thought. He wants you, more than he’s ever wanted anyone. And he desperately wants to give you what you need, which based on the mewls escaping your lips, is a physical release, a connection.

God, he can feel the wet heat of your cunt now through your panties and his pants as you slide over his length, back and forth, again and again. He clings to you as your hands wind through his hair, burying his head in your neck, his lips taking in as much of your skin as he can. He revels in the scent of you, your perfume and your irresistible musk that is permeating the room. He is positively dizzy with it.

You are frantic in his lap now, chasing something he’s not entirely sure you’ve ever had. He knows about Ted, but he highly doubts Ted knew what to do with you. And with Jack, well, he’s not sure how far the two of you have gone, but he can only guess based on Jack’s recent actions and your desperation for no one to know that Ted had popped your cherry that you’ve been trying to be good and pure and wait.

But as you reach for his belt, pawing at him, for the first time in this whole event, he gets the distinct impression that you’re not sure what to do next, only that you are needy for something. And goddamn him, he is willing to give you what you need, but only if you really understand what it is you’re asking for.

“Wait, baby, just…wait,” Elvis pants, stilling your hips with one hand while grabbing the hand at his belt with the other. You whimper a little at the interruption, rolling your hips for emphasis, but despite the groan he can’t help, he’s having none of that.

“Baby, I need to know that you really want this,” he says, brushing your hair off your deliciously pink cheeks, your lips swollen from his kisses. He looks into your eyes, almost getting lost in them and forgetting what he set out to do. “You’re absolutely sure?”

“Yes,” you whisper, and then add, “Elvis, please,” in a begging tone that sets him completely aflame.

“Oh, damn, okay, baby, okay,” he breathes, barely able to contain himself with that. He’s only human, after all. He races to help you with his pants, pulling them over his hips and down his legs in record time, his erection springing free, precum already glistening the tip. You lift up on your knees, you move your panties aside, and touching the silky soft skin of his cock, you help him line up with your entrance. He can’t help but gasp at the feeling of your cool little fingers circling his shaft, losing it a little more when he feels how incredibly soaked you already are.

He can’t believe this is happening. It shouldn’t be happening. But all logic is gone from him, replaced by the sweetness of your mouth and the wetness of your pussy and his desperate need for whatever love you have to give him.

He watches as you bite your lip in concentration, your fingers digging into his shoulders as you try to take him in. You are incredibly tight around the sensitive tip of his cock, and he moans a little at the constriction. That’s when he knows for sure that no one else has touched you like this for a long time. You aren’t ready for him, not yet.

Reaching under your skirt, he deftly finds the delicate little bundle of nerves there and begins to work it ever so gently. He shifts his hips down, his cock regretfully released from your hold on it. Sliding his fingers through your folds (oh, god), he gently slips one finger into your tight heat, then two, allowing you to adjust around him before pumping them in and out. Your eyes go wide and you gasp with the intrusion, but then they flutter closed with a sigh, and then another, and another before your hips begin to rock again.

He watches you in your ecstasy, taking in every delectable reaction he can and committing it to memory. The way your brow scrunches and your mouth falls open into a little O. The feel of your thighs clenching around his hand as he massages and fingers your dripping pussy. Those alluring little breathy moans escaping your lips. Every part of you has him completely mesmerized and he knows it. He knows his mouth is agape and he is moaning softly right along with you. He is so aroused just by watching you, he feels like he could come without you even touching him.

“E, I need more…I need you,” you breathe with your eyes closed and brow concentrated, and oh sweet lord, those might be the best words in the English language with the way they come out of your mouth.

He is utterly unable to deny you this. He can’t even speak, he just pulls his fingers out of you, lifts your hips, and maneuvers his cock back to the place it wants to be most. And you are more ready for him now, your tightness yielding much more easily around the sensitive tip of him.

It’s in that moment, as you sink down ever-so-slowly onto him and he is enveloped by your wet heat, that Elvis realizes he is utterly ruined for any other woman, ever. They cannot and will not ever hold a candle to you. He should’ve known before. He should’ve stopped this while he still could. But as you finally settle in his lap, taking him in completely, your fingers relaxing and your eyes bright and glassy, he knows he is well and truly fucked in every way.

He kisses you deeply again and again, memorizing your mouth, as you begin to raise and lower yourself on his cock. You feel so good, so completely perfect, it’s as if you were made just for him. He is drunk on you, hands wandering your body, finding what makes you keen, and he’s unable to get enough of you.

But you are so needy and ready that unfortunately it doesn’t take very long of you riding him and him playing with your clit for you to begin falling apart at the seams. Based on your surprised gasps, he’s not sure you’ve ever come before, so he does his best to help you get there while holding on to his own release for dear life. You begin to shudder around him, clenching his length, and with a strangled moan you hit your peak. It’s the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen, the way you are coming undone on top of him, around him, your eyelashes fluttering closed and then popping open, all wild-eyed and rosy cheeked as the hushed sound of his name falls out of your perfect mouth.

He's so fucking enraptured that his orgasm hits harder and faster than expected, chasing yours almost immediately, not giving him time to pull out like he should have. But he can’t bring himself to care because it’s all you. All he’s ever wanted or needed—it’s you.

Oh, sweet Christ, I love you, I love you, I love you, he chants in his mind as he follows you over the edge.

He clings to you, head pressed into your breasts as he pulses hard into your warmth with a grunt, then stays there as he comes down from the high. And then you are both gasping in the silence, and there is an air of disbelief that fills the room that the two of you just did that, together.

This is making love, he realizes suddenly. It must be, considering the incredibly overwhelming feelings he has for you that are pouring through him in unreasonable amounts. He never wants to let you go, not ever.

He pulls back enough to kiss you tenderly, lingering a little too long. There is a sinking, nearly unbearable feeling that this may never happen again, and it threatens to break him, so he pushes it as far away as it will go.

You press your forehead to his, silent, you still enveloping him as he eventually begins to soften inside you. Neither of you rushes to move. He cannot read what you are thinking and that makes him nervous.

“Are you okay?” he finally whispers, his thumb grazing your cheek.

You nod but say nothing.

“Okay, baby.”

You both sit there a while, simmering in what you have done, and he wishes you would say something, say anything at all to let him know what is going on in that head of yours. But you are quiet, unreadable.

Finally, you remove yourself from his lap and stumble your way into the ensuite bathroom to clean up.

Elvis runs a hand down his face, wiping away the mixture of salty tears and sweat that has collected there. He uses his handkerchief to wipe himself off and then puts himself back together. Blissed out in his refraction, he is so full of love for you that he almost can’t stand it. He thought he’d known love before, and perhaps he did, but this realization of love for you is so big that he doesn’t know what to do with it. God, he feels like with you by his side, he could conquer the damn world.

But you’re not his girl.

Fuck. Shit. Fucking shit.

His head falls back onto the wall with a thump.

Somehow, he’s both on top of the world and completely buried by it at the same time. You interrupt his thoughts, coming back in quietly and falling, exhausted, into his arms. He takes off his coat and puts it on top of you both. He can’t help but pull you closer, up into his lap, so your head rests against his chest. This is where you are supposed to be, he can’t help but think.

He knows the two of you need to talk about this. While he has been having his epiphany, he has absolutely no idea what you are thinking. He has no clue if you feel anything even close to what he feels for you. It is possible that all of this was just some sort of revenge on Jack, and that breaks his heart a little. And even if you did do it for that reason, you chose him. You felt safe enough with him to choose him.

But something deep inside him tells him it isn’t just that, not with the way you kissed him, not with the way he felt like his damn soul was connecting with yours. That deep connection he’s always felt to you, it can’t possibly be one-way.

But what if it is? a worried little voice creeps in.

He wants to ask you, but he looks down and sees you passed out on his chest. Fatigue begins to hit him, as he hasn’t slept in over a day.

It’s not long before he, too, falls into an exhausted slumber.

He’s not sure how long you sleep, but when he wakes, the sun has moved and the room is nearly dark. Disoriented, it takes a moment for him to realize that it’s you in his arms, and when he remembers why, his cheeks flame with heat.

Oh. Oh.

Drowsy, he rubs his eyes with one hand, trying to wake up. As the memories of your lovemaking resurface, his heart beats faster, and he knows the moment you wake you will both have to face what you’ve done. You’ll have to decide what comes next. And more than anything, the hopeful little voice inside him realizes that he wants to share this all with you—that’s why it is you he brought to Graceland today, and why it was so important to him that you like it.

“Y/n, honey, wake up,” he says quietly, not wanting to shock you awake, but you don’t even stir. He shifts under you, hoping that might get you moving, but you just lie there.

“Hey, baby, it’s time to wake up,” he says at full voice now, but you remain still, too still, and silent.

His heart starts to pound. Something isn’t right.

“Y/n! Honey, I need you to wake up!” He is getting frantic now, his hand gently tapping your face, which feels too cold. But still, you do not wake.

“Fuck. Fuck! Y/n, wake up!” He shakes you. Panic and confusion roll over him as he tries to figure out why you are knocked out. His sleep-addled brain runs through what happened before you both fell asleep, before you made love.

Her headache, he thinks. She took pills for her headache.

He had thought they were aspirin, but as he frantically rummages through her purse, pulling out the little prescription bottle, he reads “Percodan, one tablet every 6 hours for pain and sleep relief” on the label.

Elvis swears you took two tablets, not one, way too much for a girl your size. You hadn’t read the bottle.

Shit.

Having been in Hollywood, he knows that this happens. People overdose from taking these narcotics, usually to get high, but he knows that you did it on accident. Based on how full the bottle is, he’s guessing that you maybe hadn’t even taken the meds before today.

Regardless, he’s not taking any chances with you. There’s no phone hooked up at the house, so with his adrenaline now working overtime, he lifts your unconscious form and quickly carries you to the car. He peals out, driving to Baptist Memorial Hospital as fast as he possibly can.

The those few hours are some of the most terrifying of his life.

He bites every nail down to the quick in that waiting room, pacing there as your family sits, equally worried. He can’t help but feel that they are judging him for letting this happen, even though it was an accident.

He can’t bring himself to call Jack.

Guilt eats away at him, even though he knows he had no idea about the pills, but if he hadn’t fallen asleep, maybe he would’ve realized sooner that something was wrong. Part of him feels like this is punishment for his sins, for what he let happen in the house. He prays and prays to God, harder than he’s ever prayed before.

Please, God, I love her. I can’t lose her. Do what you want to me, just let her be okay.

His prayers work.

You wake up. The doctors say you are going to make a full recovery. His heart nearly explodes with relief.

He offers to stay while your family goes home to get some rest. It is past visiting hours, but being Memphis’ own superstar, the nurses take pity on him and let him stay, as long as he doesn’t keep you awake.

When you finally stir, it’s the middle of the night.

“E—Elvis?” you croak. “What happened? Where am I?”

He sits up straight and leans forward to take your cold little hand in his. “Y/n! Oh, baby, you took too many of your headache pills and I couldn’t wake you up. You scared the hell outta me. You’re in the hospital, but you’re gonna be okay,” he whispers, squeezing your hand.

“Wake me up? Why—why was I asleep?” your brow furrows in confusion.

His heart drops into his stomach, dread like ice in his veins. He doesn’t want to ask, but he knows he must:

“What’s the last thing you remember, honey?”

Obviously still groggy, you close your eyes for a moment to think. “Um, I remember you picked me up and took me to…to your new house,” you say, then your eyes pop open, “You were showing me your beautiful new house, and then my headache got really bad, so I took some of my pills, and then…” You stop, looking at him blankly. “And after that, I don’t remember. You said I fell asleep?”

Oh, God, no. No, no, no. He feels like he’s going to vomit.

The force of his dread hits him like a tsunami as he runs through what happened in his head again. You took the pills first and then he told you about June and then you kissed him.

But you don’t remember. You don’t remember because you were accidentally fucking high.

“Elvis, are you okay? You look like you’ve seen a ghost,” you say.

“Sorry, baby, I-I-I was just really worried about you, is all. I-I guess it’s all kinda hittin’ me at o-once, now that you’re o-o-okay,” he says, unable to keep his voice from shaking, unable to keep from stuttering through the half-truth.

“Please, go get some rest, E. I’ll be fine. I’m so tired, I feel like I could sleep for days…” you say, drowsily, eyes fluttering closed.

“Okay, okay, baby, I will…Get some rest,” he says, kissing you on the top of your head as you drift back into slumber.

In a panicked daze, he manages to make it down the hallway and to the men’s room before his stomach rolls and he is violently sick into the toilet.

Oh, sweet Lord, he took advantage of you. You were drugged and didn’t know what you were doing, and he had sex with you.

He vomits again, tears running down his face.

I didn’t know, I didn’t know, I wouldn’t have ever let it happen if I’d known! I would never hurt her! the reasonable part of his brain cries out.

Shame eats at him from deep inside, cutting him. He deserves it.

How could he do this? How could he let this happen?

I should’ve known. I should’ve known the moment she kissed me that she wasn’t in her right mind.

But he didn’t, and what the hell does that say about him? He’s fucking selfish and he took something from you that you weren’t in your right mind to give.

He dry heaves, wanting desperately to expel his regret but knowing that he never will, not until the day he dies.

And what’s even worse is that he is still left with the fact that he is desperately in love with you. You don’t remember what, up until a few minutes ago, was one of the most amazing moments of his young life. You can’t share that with him. And that makes him feel even more selfish because the last thing he should be thinking of is his own damn feelings.

Sitting there on the cold floor, he tries to convince himself it’s for the best. It’s much less complicated for you this way. For you, there was no betrayal. For you, making love with him can never be a mistake you once made in a moment of anger and desperation. For you, there is only the love of friendship between you two.

Yes, it’s better this way, he thinks. He can carry the burden for both of you. He deserves to.

Because he knows he cannot give you what you need. He cannot be there for you, day in and day out, holding you tight and keeping you safe. Especially not now. Not after what he’s done.

He has to lock this away. You can never know, not ever. He must protect you from this and from his guilt. He knows you wouldn’t be able to look at him if you knew.

Oh, God. Please forgive me.

He can’t stop crying. He has to stop crying because he has to go out there and he has to look fine. He has to be fine, for your sake. You’re alive and going to be okay, and it’s that which he latches onto as a mantra in order to slide into the persona that has made his name.

He manages to make it to the car without losing it again, as the dawn starts to break on another day. He can’t bring himself to go home; he can’t look his mother in the eye right now. So, he drives aimlessly, for hours, his sins eating away at him until he finds himself at the church.

He waits for Reverend Hamill in a pew, his thoughts dark and churning. This is just the straw that broke him, for he knows that since his fame began two years ago, he has fallen so very far. He has been self-centered and vain. He has fornicated and broken hearts and caused pain to those he claimed to love, all in the name of this new life of his. And he’s pushed his friends to do the same. His stupid, selfish actions have had a ripple effect that has completely ruined lives.

Not only had he driven June away and into the arms of another man, he’d played with your life and Jack’s as well. If he hadn’t pushed Jack to cheat, you would never have needed those pills in the first place. You almost died because he didn’t want to be alone in his debauchery, and he knows that some sick part of him pushed Jack to it because he wanted to sabotage your relationship.

Then he realizes that, on top of all that, he did another incredibly selfish and stupid thing. He came inside you, which means that you could be pregnant. And that would ruin you completely, and you wouldn’t even know why, you wouldn’t understand. He would do the right thing, of course, and maybe, someday, you would learn to forgive him, but it would ruin you all in the process.

Oh, Lord. Oh, Jesus.

He thinks he might vomit again.

When the Reverend emerges, he looks surprised to find Elvis sitting there.

“Pastor, I am the most miserable man you’ve ever seen. I am doing the things you taught me not to, and I’m not doing the things you said I should,” he sobs, “Please, please pray for me.”

“Oh, son…come in,” Reverend Hamill says.

Deflated, consumed, and heavy with his guilt and the repercussions of his actions, he follows the pastor into his office. He can’t bring himself to admit what he’s done, to admit how horrible he is. He just cannot get the words out. Instead, he weeps and prays, over and over, the Reverend praying with him.

All he can whimper out is, “Please, please forgive me for my sins. Please.” He’s not sure if he’s asking the minister or God or both. He only knows he cannot live with himself for hurting you, even if you don’t know it.

After over an hour of this, by the grace of God, he finally calms some. His entire body and soul aches.

But he knows what he has to do now. He understands the deal he has made.

It doesn’t matter what he wants or needs. You being okay is all that matters. He has to make sure you’re taken care of. He has to make sure that you are happy.

In the days and weeks and months that follow, Elvis pretends he is having the time of his life, becoming every bit the budding superstar that the country insists that he is now. Sometimes, he even believes it; sometimes, he even forgets. Though every time he sees you, his heart breaks a little more, his love for you permeating him to the core.

But he knows he can’t have you. He knows he doesn’t deserve you.

Instead, he plants seeds in Jack’s ear. “You love her, don’t ya, Jacky Boy? When are ya gonna make an honest woman of her?” He pushes Jack to fully commit to you. He even goes with Jack to buy the ring, though he stops himself from paying for it. Jack has his pride, after all.

Instead, he throws himself into work, grateful for the grueling cycle of touring and recording and appearances and acting. He throws himself into fixing up Graceland for his family, building a life of extravagance that he never could’ve dreamed of.

And, God help him, he starts seeing other girls. He leans into the image of the playboy they all want him to be. He dates and he fucks, thinking that maybe, just maybe, one of these girls will make him forget the perfect way you fit into him, forget the way your face looked when you came undone around him. That maybe one of them will come close to the wonder that is you. That they will help him forget his past sins by cutting new ones. He cannot seem to help but do the sinful things he swore he wouldn’t do, lest he drown in his sorrows, but the girls help keep him from the one thing that is off limits: You.

When Jack finally pops the question in the summer, and you accept immediately, he can barely keep himself together. He convinces himself this is the right thing, that he is happy for the both of you as he stares into the night sky knowing deep in his soul that it should be him. He reminds himself that this is the deal, this is what he wanted, to see you happy and taken care of.

And he will damn himself for your salvation every time.

December 28th, 1957, Graceland

Oh, God, what have I done?

The moment you appear down the aisle, looking ever the most beautiful, blushing bride, every part of him aches with love for you. He’d thought that by giving you the life you dreamed of, the life you needed, that it would be enough to let you go. But as Elvis stands by Jack’s side at the altar, he realizes that no matter what has happened, no matter what he has done, he is always going to love you and it’s never not going to hurt, especially not after this.

Not after the quick look you shoot him as you step up to meet Jack, your pretty, wide eyes full of excitement and emotion. Not after seeing you all in white and wishing to God that it was him marrying you right now. Not after he keeps his peace after the minister asks if there’s a reason these two should not be married.

He somehow manages to keep himself from openly weeping during the ceremony by biting the inside of his cheek repeatedly but still finds himself caught in your radiance more than once and must force himself to look away. During the wedding pictures, he cannot help but maneuver himself close to you to press a lingering kiss to your cheek, to be memorialized for all time on film. The press of his soft lips into your warm cheek sends that tell-tale shiver through him, one that drives in the fact that he still loves you. He gives himself this tiny thing, and no one questions it because they all know you are close friends, and a congratulatory cheek kiss on your wedding day is not strange.

Discretely, he makes sure to let the photographer know he wants copies of the pictures, with the excuse that he is paying for them and wants to make sure they are perfect. This, too, is not questioned, as if it is the most normal thing in the world.

To torture himself even more, he offers Graceland up for the reception. These are his two best friends, after all, now cleaved together in holy matrimony for the rest of their lives. No expense should be spared because they deserve all the happiness in the world.

And they do, he reminds himself throughout the day. They do deserve all the happiness in the world.

At least if you are with Jack, he thinks, he still has you in his life. He can still see those beautiful, wide eyes whenever he wants without question or suspicion.

He clings to this.

Even so, he feels as though he is being sucked into a riptide. It seems fated that his life is going in a much different direction than the newlyweds. The draft notice he received a week ago confirms this, weighing heavy on his heart and feeing like a nail in the coffin of his hopes and dreams.

God is testing him, he thinks. It is all a very clear and stark reminder that where he goes, you cannot follow. He cannot help but feel that God is punishing him for his sins by taking him away from the fame he has just settled into to, taking him from the people he loves and the things he loves to do. He wants to lament that it isn’t fair, but part of him knows that he deserves this, too, for what he’s done and for what he’s done to you.

And perhaps God works in mysterious ways, as while he is loathe to leave his parents and his career and his fans, he cannot help the small part of him that is relieved he doesn’t have to watch you and Jack in your newlywedded bliss for the next two years. It’s the only upshot to this entire disaster.

But he won’t let his sorrow overshadow your big day. With a smile plastered on his face, he gives a charming and loving speech of how wonderful it is to see his two best friends find such happiness with each other. He only stutters once or twice, which comes across as endearing rather than damning. But the thing is, even though he is miserable, he is still happy for you two. He wants more than anything for you to have everything you’ve ever wanted and more, and if that is with Jack, then so be it.

The only time he truly falters is during the dance.

Your little sister (who at 18 is not so little anymore), Rosie, as the Maid of Honor, dances with Jack, while he, the Best Man, dances with you. The moment he touches you, sparks fly through him and down his spine, and he cannot help but pull you in a little too close, even though everyone is looking. His large hand wraps around your smaller one and the other clings to your waist.

The thing is, you do not react to this at all, not outwardly, anyway. You let him hold you and press his cheek against your temple. You let him breathe in your scent and lean into you, as if memorizing everything about you. You let his hands contract, pulling you in closer. You let him lead because it’s like somehow you know, in your soul, that he needs this, even if you’re not exactly sure why.

And for that he is grateful. He is grateful as he takes in every bit of you, committing you to memory, knowing that soon that is all he will have of you. All you will be is a memory, imprinted on his heart, for the rest of time.

When the song comes to an end, he leans back slowly, his eyes searching your face for any recognition, any understanding of his plight, any feelings of your own that might linger in your subconscious. You stare back at him openly for a moment, and for a second he thinks he sees a glimmer of something in your eyes, but then Jack is pulling you away and the moment is gone.

As the party continues into the night, he feels like he is suffocating and escapes upstairs to his room. And as people know not to enter his bedroom without express permission, he feels safe to let out the shaking sob he’s been holding back for hours.

He’s not sure how long he cries before a tap at the door startles him into motion, frantically wiping at his face.

“Bewbie, sweet boy, can I come in? It’s just me,” his mama’s voice echoes through the door.

“Yeah, Mama, come in,” he croaks out, wiping his nose on the back of his hand. While he is relieved that it’s her and not one of the guys, or God forbid, you, he still doesn’t know how he’s going to explain the state he’s in.

His mama comes in quietly, shutting the door quickly behind her. She looks him over and in one fell swoop seems to understand, even though he’s said nothing, even though he’s spent months perfecting his nonchalantness for the world, what is going on.

But a mother knows.

His mama sits next to him on the edge of the bed, putting her arm comfortingly around his broad shoulders. “Oh, my wittle baby, it’s her, isn’t it? Our beautiful y/n. You love her,” she says, less of a question and more stating a fact.

That does him in, the way his secret is exposed so easily by his mama. It terrifies him that she knows him so well, and terrifies him that if she knows this, what else does she know? There’s no point in denying anything, so he curls into her like a child and lets go of it all, the tears streaming once again down his cheeks as his body shakes with quiet sobs.

His mama has always loved you, taking quickly to your genial ways and how you always made time to spend with her. Maybe she suspected something from the start, he doesn’t know, but she doesn’t judge or scold him now.

“H-hurts so bad, Satnin,” he hiccups out. And it does, now that he’s letting it. It feels like his heart is being ripped from his chest.

“I know, baby, I know,” she coos, rubbing his back. He can sense all the questions she wants to ask but doesn’t.

“I-I-I couldn’t…I-I ain’t w-w-what she needs or wants, Mama,” he stutters out. It’s as close as he’s willing to get to telling her the truth.

“It takes a brave man to let the girl he loves marry another, when he knows that’s what she wants, though I can’t say I wish it didn’t work out the other way,” his mama tuts.

“Y-you knew?”

“Course I knew, Bewbie. A mother always knows. To be fair, I been watchin’ the way ya look at that girl for the past few years and it didn’t take much t’put it all together, baby,” she says. “But the question is, does she know?”

He stills and stays silent for a moment, before answering truthfully, “I don’t know, Mama. I don’t think so.”

“Hmm,” she tuts, “I’m gonna trust you had good reason for lettin’ that wonderful girl go without tellin’ her how ya feel?”

His heart constricts, causing him to doubt his choices, but he can’t explain how he nearly killed you with his terrible decisions. He certainly can’t tell his mama that he made love to you when you weren’t yourself, no matter that it was you came on to him. And he knows his mama would balk if he told her how much he doesn’t deserve your love because of his sins.

“It’s better this way, Mama,” he says quietly, sitting up and staring at his hands. “And she’s happy, both she and Jack.”

His mama nods, resigned. “Alright, my sweet baby, puttin’ your friends’ happiness before your own…I know ya made the choice ya thought was best,” she says, wiping his face and pinching his cheeks, “but ya get yourself cleaned up now ‘n go be at least a ‘lil happy for your friends, okay?” She leaves the obvious unsaid—that he’s leaving to film in a few days and straight from there, it’ll be into the Army, so this will be one of the last times he can spend with them.

He nods. “O-okay, Satnin.”

And with that, he does as he’s told.

And then, in a blink of an eye, she’s gone. His mama is gone and his world fully collapses and it’s all his fault.

You are the only one who saves him from being completely swallowed in the blackness of his despair, and he’s not in his right mind to think or care how that looks. All he knows is you’re there when he needs you the most. You’re there to get him through the absolute worst of it before they send him a world away, and then, he loses you, too.

He loses everything that means anything to him—his mama, you, his career—and he wonders how long God will continue to punish him for his misdeeds, until he can’t bring himself to care much anymore about anything at all.

Germany feels like a cold fog that clouds his brain, even when he brings his Daddy and Dodger and Red over to live with him off base. In his haze, he writes Anita promises he wishes he could keep but deep down knows he won’t. Then, he turns around and does all the things he shouldn’t do because he can and what does it even matter if it’s all lost anyway? He takes the pills they give him to keep him awake in the field, and those make him feel pretty good, for a time anyway, and then he starts taking other pills they give him to bring him down after. In his off time, he screws and tries to forget the life he used to know.

And in those horrible quiet hours when he lies awake, trying to sleep when even the pills won’t let him, trying to escape and can’t, he thinks of you. He thinks of his love for you and your hold over him even now, a world away, and when he’s extra lonely, he imagines you on top of him, writhing and beautiful. And when he comes undone, there’s nothing left but a gaping hole in his heart and a mess in his hand.

March 1960

Elvis bites his nails to the quick on the long journey home. It’s not just because of the planes and the exhaustion and not knowing if he’ll ever get back to being “Elvis Presley,” but he knows he’ll be seeing you in a matter of hours. Not years or months or weeks, but hours.

And he thinks that maybe he is finally over you, that maybe he’s healed enough from everything and that he’s on his way to start something new, something fresh.

But, God, somehow you are more beautiful now than before, but you act so strange around him, and his heart wants to leap and implode all at once. Somehow everything has changed…but you, you still own his heart.

Once he discovers your pregnancy, he is over the moon for you because he can sense how badly you want this. He doesn’t care that the baby is Jack’s—he loves it more than anything because he loves you and seeing you so happy brings him true joy for the first time in a long, long time.

His career is taking off again, his new image impressing those who denounced him a few years ago, and he already has appearances and recordings and films lined up to go. Life feels…almost good, like maybe he’s finally paid his karmic debt.

Then you almost bleed to death in his arms.

His terrified confession of love is spoken in an act of desperation, a singular hope that if you know he loves you, you won’t be able to go, that the string of fate that draws you both together cannot be broken, that he can somehow will you back to life with the power of his love.

He begs God, begs as he’s never begged before, an inner wail of blood-soaked prayer that does not cease as he rides with your near-lifeless form to the hospital, nor when he calls Jack and your parents, nor as paces the waiting room.

Singularly focused on his pleas to God, he doesn’t even realize he’s covered in your blood until Charlie and Jerry arrive shortly after the ambulance and look at him in shock.

“Jesus, EP,” Charlie gasps quietly, taking in the macabre scene, “We need to get you changed and cleaned up before Jack gets here.”

That’s when he looks down and sees your life’s blood staining his pants, his shirt, his arms, his hands. God, it’s even under my nails, he thinks as he watches his hands shake, feeling utterly disconnected from his body.

He’s frozen, unable to move, repeating his prayers again and again, until Charlie whisks him away and has to physically help him strip down and wash the blood from his body in the bathroom. As he watches the pink-tinged water swirl down the drain, he cannot bear the thought that maybe it’s the last thing he has of you, these stains, and that maybe he’s truly lost you.

He just got you back. He can’t lose you. He won’t.

No, his inner mantra of prayer doesn’t cease until he is absolutely sure you are going to be okay.

Though “okay” is relative, he learns quickly. You have a long recovery ahead of you, the surgeons say, wiping their sweating brows, and the next few days will be crucial. The baby is gone, and the doctors say that more tests need to be done once you are well to see if that is even an option in the future.

He is heartbroken for you, and for Jack. But you are alive. You are alive.

Lamar and Red have to physically drag him from the hospital in the morning to get him ready and put him on the train to Florida for Frank Sinatra’s special, which is the very last thing he wants to do. But it is absolutely pivotal in his career comeback, so he tells Rosie in no uncertain terms that she is to keep him posted about her sister and any developments.

As he showers and packs, exhaustion seeping into his bones, it suddenly hits him that he told you he loved you, and it’s likely there will be fallout from that. It makes him incredibly worried, and he is even more loathe to leave until he knows where he stands with you. It’s possible you won’t even want to see him again.

Or it’s possible she loves you, too, a little voice hopes. But he knows better than to feed that monster. You don’t love him, not like that, and it’s selfish of him to even consider at a time like this.

“It’ll take your mind off things, EP,” Jerry tries to convince him, seeing his trepidation, prodding him along to get on the train. “And it’ll give y/n and Jack and her family time to get situated.”

The message is clear. Elvis is not in the inner circle of your life, not anymore, not as he wants to be. This fact is both sobering and cutting at the same time. It reminds him yet again that where he goes, you cannot follow, and where you go, he is not always welcome or needed.

He nods solemnly, thinking he finally understands, yet again, the terms of his deal with God. You live and he keeps his distance, he keeps his sins from tainting you. You live and he lets you go.

He pops a couple of pills, brought over from Germany, to wake him up, to get him in the performing mindset, to rev him up to being THE Elvis Presley. “Anything she needs, anything at all, comes to me,” he tells Jerry, “Hospital bills, recovery costs…and I want the best doctors helping her figure out her pregnancy issues. Oh, and send flowers, every day.”

Jerry nods, eyes observant and keen. “Of course, EP. Anything for y/n and Jack.”

Yes, anything for you.

You don’t remember a thing from that night, he learns from Rosie, and most of him thinks it’s for the best. But a small, egotistical part of him thinks bitterly that you certainly have a knack for forgetting anything monumental that happens between the two of you.

But he is busy. So busy, in fact, that he barely has time to think of you at all after that.

Except half the songs he chooses for his comeback album have something to do with you, which he only consciously realizes when he steps up to the mic to sing. And just as he thought of you the night of the talent show, he thinks of you now, singing about the girl of his best friend and how it feels so right being with you. He pours his hopes and dreams and frustrations and sorrows right into that album.

Perhaps it will cleanse him of needing you. Perhaps it’ll help him let you go.

When you find out that children are likely not in the cards for you and Jack, he sends more flowers, every day for a week. Jack is devastated and practically begs to come out to Hollywood to escape the sadness, so he agrees.

Anything for his friend, right?

He takes care of you from afar. He takes care of everything. Anything you could possibly want or need is yours. But he keeps his distance.

That is the bargain.

He falters at Christmas, almost letting his grief and yours ruin everything. He swears that you feel something for him, that maybe your impulse to be with him was not entirely driven by the drugs all those years ago. That maybe you do somehow remember his confession. Part of him swears if he had let it happen, you would’ve been his once again.

But you are not his, you never really were.

And while he knows this on a logical level, the more he is away, the more he fills his days with mindless movie making and wooing his costars and taking pills that bring him up and more that pull him down, the more he lets himself imagine you are his. From a distance, he can take care of you. From a distance and in the deep recesses of his mind, you belong to him and him alone.

“Elvis Presley” becomes a household name, now with a clean-cut image, alluring to both housewives and teenagers alike. His fame and wealth grow, and so does his isolation and loneliness. So does the need for the pills and to bring the rest of the guys into it all with him. Even Jack.

Especially Jack.

But he doesn’t like to think about why that is.

He manages to destroy his relationship with Anita along the way. He loved her, in his way, he really did. But she was not you. Neither is Ann, though he thinks for a moment that she may be the answer to his prayers, but in the end, he screws that up, too.

As the years drag on, he thinks he finally understands why he sabotages every relationship he’s ever had—it’s you—none of them are YOU. So he flits from fling to fling without ever truly landing because all he really wants is your love. But he doesn’t deserve it, he never has.

He knows this as he watches Jack descend into alcohol and drugs and women, and a small, horrible part of him wants Jack to self-destruct, and even though he knows this hurts you, he is too selfish to stop it. And the guilt of this, coupled with the downturn in his career, pushes him to self-destruct, too.

Still, he keeps his distance. When he’s home, he tries not to shoot you too many lingering glances. He reins himself in, most of the time, but in moments of weakness, he allows himself to get too close. He catches you alone, he makes a pass. But because you are you, you always rebuke him with a laugh. Silly Elvis, ever the jokester.

But sometimes, in the dark of night, in your beautiful, wide eyes, he sees something else. That deeper connection that drew you together in the first place, mixed with a heat he has only seen once or twice. And it is that which keeps his hope alive.

In an attempt to bury it and fill the hole in his heart, he almost marries, but in the end, he can’t go through with it. He’s wildly unhappy and dissatisfied, and it’s not until he finally gains some control over his career again that things take a turn for the better. He finally starts to clean up his act. He seeks knowledge and spiritual clarity. He finally finds his passion for music and performing again after nearly a decade.

But it’s too late for Jack. He managed to drag Jack to hell and while he made it back, Jack has not. And you are miserable because of it. This breaks his heart.

He tried to give you everything you wanted and needed by stepping back to let Jack do so. He kept his distance. He did what he’d promised God, and yet life still destroyed your dreams.

Jack no longer makes you happy. Jack is no longer the man who can give you what you need.

And suddenly Elvis wonders if he was wrong all along. That perhaps he wasn’t the man you needed then, but he is now. Perhaps his sins have been forgiven. Perhaps the more he pushes you away, the worse things become for both of you because you are indeed supposed to be together.

You are his. You’ve always been his.

So, riding high from his first Vegas performance, he finally allows himself to pursue you. He pushes away a decade and a half of guilt and shame and lets his charm and confidence entice you. He lets the sparks fly between you, finally free after all this time, and more intense than ever. To his gleeful surprise, you accept him willingly, if not a bit hesitantly.

Maybe it is just sex, he thinks at first, this carnal need he has for you, but he knows better. As soon as he tastes you after all these years, he knows he can never let you go again. As soon as he coaxes, then watches you come undone again and again, he realizes that still, after all this time, this is it for him. You are it. You always have been. And he will do anything to keep you, to make sure you know that you are his.

He thinks you might remember it all after that first night, but you don’t, not right away. He senses your fear to let go, to let yourself have him, to have this affair. He knows you want this to be only sex. And maybe it is for you, at first.

But he will have you. He doesn’t care how many mountains he must move or what he has to do to convince you to stay, but he loves you more than anything in the world and he’s not willing to part with you, not anymore.

It’s true that his fame, wealth, and influence have spoiled him into always getting what he desires. Of course, what he truly desires always has been you. Now unlocked, his love and want and need for you is insatiable, and he will do anything to keep it that way.

Anything for you. Anything but letting you go.

As the blackout of his rage starts to dissipate and he comes to, he assumes that his friends are holding him back from quite literally killing the disheveled and beaten man who used to be his best friend, and he watches with deep satisfaction as you slap the shit out of your husband.

He also feels the immense guilt of letting it get this far, of not knowing just how bad Jack was to you, and his part in all of it.

But when you vomit and promptly fall to an unconscious heap on the ground, his fear is what overshadows his rage and guilt. Something is wrong, he knows it.

Not again, not again, not again.

Triggered by your history, Elvis, with untold strength, wrenches himself from the four men holding him down and clamors to your side, everyone else forgotten.

Pulling your limp body into his lap, he screams for someone to call the doctor. His heart pounds so hard he thinks he might need one, too.

Please God, please God, please God. Not now, not after all we’ve been through.

That deep-seeded, old shame creeps back in as he rocks you: This is your fault. Your selfishness did this. You destroyed Jack, he took it out on her, and you’ve put her at risk, yet again. You are a scourge on this woman you claim to love so much. A pestilence.

He’s getting lost in this fearful despair, and then Jerry’s voice in his ear snaps him back: “EP. EP! You have to let her go, man. The doctor is here.” Jerry pulls his arms off her as the doctor examines her.

Elvis’ fingers go straight to his mouth, his obsessive habit of biting his nails taking over as he watches the doctor carefully.

The doctor looks up, taking in the scene. He looks at Elvis, then at Jack bleeding against the wall, and purses his lips. “Will somebody tell me what happened to this young lady?”

“There was an incident…” Jerry begins diplomatically.

“Her husband slammed his fist into her face!” Sandy yells over him, furious, earning scathing looks from the entourage. They knew better than to give details, knowing to keep things close to the chest and avoid any legal issues, to protect him at all costs.

“Sandy!” Jerry admonishes her.

“No, it’s okay, Jer,” Elvis says firmly, waving him off. “I’m sure the doctor knows to be discreet.”

The doctor looks up at his hovering, intimidating form, and says nothing for a moment. “I know this isn’t what you want to hear, but I need to get her to a hospital and stabilized as soon as possible. She needs x-rays. It’s likely she has a serious concussion, Mr. Presley.”

The men start to argue, knowing that as soon as she leaves this room, a whole host of problems could fall down on them, but that’s the last thing he cares about right now. All that matters is you.

Elvis holds up his hand and everyone goes silent. “Do what you need to do, Doc. Anything she needs.”

The doctor nods and asks that someone phone for an ambulance.

Elvis looks up and sees that the men cleared the room at some point, leaving only the major players. Jack still sits, leaning on the wall next to Red, his face battered and bloody, watching the doctor. Elvis can’t tell if Jack is sorry or not. Elvis walks towards Jack, his anger tempered only by his concern for you.

“EP!” Jerry says in a warning tone, signaling for the men to flank him.

“I’m fine,” he commands, crouching at Jack’s side.

Jack flinches.

“Are you proud of yourself, Jacky Boy? Are you satisfied, seeing her laid out on the ground like that? Is this what you wanted?” he hisses.

Jack says nothing. He sees the tears in Jack’s eyes, the regret through the pain, and for a second, Elvis almost sees the man he used to know in there.

“Hmm,” he tuts, looking over his friend with disgust, shaking his head. “I’ll deal with you later. And you, too,” he says, with a low, deadly calm, pointedly to Red. Then he rises easily from the floor, his attention on the men with the stretcher who just entered the suite.

“It’s never enough with you, EP, you selfish motherfucker. The man who gets everything he wants, no matter how many lives he has to destroy to get it. The rules never apply to you, do they? Dammit, you coulda had anyone, anyone! Why did it have to be y/n?” Jack spits out mournfully from behind him.

Shame snakes through him, through the anger that continues to boil under just the surface, covering the sorrow that flows under that. There is truth in Jack’s words, he knows that, even though he wants to deny it.

“How long, Elvis?”

He supposes he owes Jack that much, though he doesn’t even turn his head.

“Opening night.”

“No, you bastard. How long have you been in love with my wife?”

The room goes silent yet again.

Elvis turns around, but he cannot bring himself to look Jack in the eyes for a moment. A lifetime of memories flashes through his head, of times much better than this, of times when they had each other’s backs. Ultimately, he knows what Jack has become is partially his fault. Ultimately, he knows it was wrong of him to want you when you weren’t his, wrong to have sex with you, even before the debacle of you and the pills. It was wrong of him to manipulate Jack into marrying you.

As much as he hates Jack right now, he once loved him, and still, he betrayed him.

Jack chuckles darkly, “That fucking long, huh?”

Elvis finally looks Jack in the eyes but says nothing. Nothing he can say will make any of this less of a fiasco. Nothing he can say with make it right, no matter how much he wants to jump in to defend himself, to tell Jack he saw you first, to tell him he wanted you first, to fucking explain that you’re his goddamn soulmate and he’s had to watch you be with someone else for almost two fucking decades.

“Ahhh, and she didn’t even know, did she?” A hint of a smile plays on Jack’s bloodied lips. “Didn’t even give the King the time of day! Well, at least I got that goin’ for me,” he laughs.

His brow furrows as he fumes, and he steps towards Jack again. Lamar puts himself between the two men.

“It’s fine, Lamar, let him at me. What do I have to lose now anyways?” Jack laughs, which turn suddenly to sobs, “You were my brother. I gave up my life for you! I loved you, man!”

The words cut Elvis to the bone, flooding his fury with more guilt.

“And I love her,” Jack sobs.

“You don’t fucking love her,” Elvis says, infuriated, pushing past Lamar to grab Jack’s chin, wrenching his head to look at you being put on the stretcher. “You hurt her. You been hurtin’ her. And Jack, if she dies, I don’t care what brotherly love was between you and me—I will fucking kill you,” he says, low and vehement in Jack’s ear, for only him to hear.

He pulls back to stare Jack in the eye, to let him know just how serious he is, to make sure he understands that through the pain and the alcohol and whatever pills he might be on.

Jack blinks through his tears and nods his head once, shakily.

Elvis releases him.

Then he steps in behind you, still unconscious, on the stretcher as they take you out of the penthouse and to the elevator.

“EP, I really don’t think it’s a good idea to…” Charlie starts, hustling behind him.

He turns, seeing the stares of the men who have given him their lives to stand by his side. Some of them are befuddled, some understanding and resigned, some even a little suspicious after tonight’s events.

“I don’t give two shits if it’s a good idea or not, I’m goin’ with her. Anyone wanna argue with me about it?” he says impatiently, shooting up an eyebrow.

No one does.

It’s good it’s the middle of the night, otherwise he would’ve caused a huge scene at the hospital. But the nurses and doctors seem to gather by his demeanor that now is not the time for autographs. Instead of putting them in the waiting room, they set up an empty room at the end of the hall for the lot of them, a gruff old nurse warning them they best be quiet and not wake any of the patients before she closes the door on them.

And for the third time in his life, he waits to know your fate.

He waits for you, just as he’s been waiting for you for the last 18 years.

He waits and he prays, though this time, he makes no bargains with God.

He stills when the doctor finally comes to tell him that, yes, you do have a concussion and though you will likely experience symptoms as you recover, you should recover fully. He feels like the weight of the world has been lifted from his shoulders.

When the doctor leads him and him alone back to your room, the doctor mentions the other symptoms you’ll likely experience and that you might have issues with your memory leading up to the event. Elvis cannot help but chuckle at that.

“Oh, I’m betting she will,” he says under his breath, though this time, he thinks it might be best after what you went through tonight.

He sits by your side in the quiet, dimmed room, and is taken aback by the angry bruising already spreading over your beautiful face. His fury at Jack swells through him once more, followed immediately by sadness. You look so innocent and fragile lying there. Suddenly, he feels afraid to touch you, as though you might break.

So, he waits. He waits for you to wake and he prays. He thinks of the lifetime he’s had without you and the life he wants with you going forward. And this time, he knows he won’t be leaving your side for anyone or anything.

But his secrets still lay heavy and dark on his heart. There are those things he cannot tell you of that day at Graceland so long ago, and the things he still cannot bring himself to admit to, like his confession of love as you almost died in his arms and his meddling in your life. He doesn’t want to tell you how all of it has led to you lying here in this hospital, hurt and fragile but somehow still his, he hopes.

He doesn’t know what he’s going to do about it yet, so for now he just waits for you to come back to him.

He’s been too rough with you, he thinks, in his quest to show you how you are his. Pushing you too hard to keep up with his rockstar lifestyle and his insatiable need for you sexually has not been good for you. You’re exhausted, not eating, and have been on an emotional rollercoaster for days, and he was too consumed by his own selfishness to listen, so much so that he almost drove you away. The hurt, the feeling of pure panic that shot through him when you said you were leaving was enough to bring him to his knees, but of course, he could not tell you that. He couldn’t show you that weakness. Instead, he’d covered it with anger and passion, fucking you into submission.

He realizes his dominance, while fun in the bedroom, is perhaps masking his true feelings. He has told you in so many words how desperate he is for you, how he wants you to be with him, to let him take care of you, how he is yours, that he needs you. But in truth, he is afraid. Afraid that you don’t and never will feel the same towards him as he does towards you. That it is only his coercion, manipulation, and his sexual prowess that keeps you here with him. No matter how much you say you are his and that you will stay as he fucks it out of you, he’s not convinced that you’ll feel the same in the light of day, of your own accord.

Lord, the way you said you needed him tonight flashed him right back to that first time with you at Graceland. The time you don’t remember. He is putty in your hands now, just as he was then. But that need of yours was only sexual. If it is truly just sex for you and you are only staying for that…well, that scares him and makes him want to hold onto you so tightly that you can’t leave even if you wanted to.

If you don’t ever feel that same pull inside your heart, in your soul, that he has for you, he’s not sure what he will do.

Gone is the bravado and confidence gleaned from years of being Elvis Presley. Instead, he sits here at your bedside feeling stripped to his core: a nervous, stuttering boy with a funny name who loves you more than life itself. He is that boy who picked your books up off the ground, the one who you calmed backstage with your sweetness and wit. For you and you alone, he is just Elvis. And he’s worried he won’t recover if you don’t ever grow to love him.

Anxiety courses through him, a throbbing pulse that serves to remind him that for all he has and is in this world, he is still only a man. And you are the girl who has comforted him through some of his worst moments, yet now after all this time he’s still terrified to let you truly see him. If he lets you in, you will see him for all that he is and all the terrible parts of himself he’s ashamed of: his selfishness and possessiveness, his overindulgence, his obsessive tendencies, his goddamned vanity and ego. His secrets. If you know the things he’s kept from you, he’s not sure you’ll ever forgive him. Certainly, you could not love him.

His heart aches at that thought, flooding him with despair. He needs you so badly that he cannot bear to risk showing you everything; however, a deep part of him wants to flay himself bare to you, to expose himself in a way that he has never done before, not with anyone.

Elvis puts his head on the bed near your hand. He is going to be gentler with you, especially after tonight. He will prove to you that he is worthy of your love, that this is so much more than just sex. He’s going to take care of you and give you the life you’ve always deserved.

God has humbled him once again tonight, and he knows he must do better.

He loves you so deeply he can hardly breathe.

So, he waits. He prays.

And he hopes that one day, you will love him, too.

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