#instead I'm gonna go to sleep 😏

[kittlyns]

Wrote out like a 5000 word vent post only for tumblr to scramble the tags so I guess that one is staying in my head forever and ever

[iisasarcasticlittleshite]

Heyy bbg 😩

How was ur dayyy, mine was ok i went shopping 😘

Whats ur favorite colorrr, i like blue 😝

How would the boyz react to breaking the bedframe during sum rough... activities 😉😏😩😳

Dont forgor to drink water and get atleast 6 hrs of sleep pls 🥺

Heyyy! I am so sorry this took me so long to start on, I went a little MIA there, lol. So of course my first post of 2024 is OM smut lol Happy 2024 everyone! Now, on to the hcs! Mature content below the cut. Warnings for Levi's section, implied monster f*ck*ng, very slight.

Lucifer

This bastard makes no secret of how proud he is to make a mess of MC.

His reaction depends on the position, if the bedframe cracks while he is on top, then he makes sure MC's safe before continuing elsewhere.

MC's barely had time to comprehend that the bedframe gave way underneath them before Lucifer is scooping them up and resuming their activities on his desk or against the wall.

"Lucifer, did we-?"

"Don't worry your pretty little head about it, my darling. Now, sing for me~"

But. If that bed breaks while MC's on top? That is a very different story.

"Look at you, taking me so well even the bed can't take it~"

"Go on, love, do it again."

Demon does not give a shit, clasps MC's thighs and holds them up while he thrusts up to meet their hips.

He may act mildly displeased at having to buy a new bed, but that aura of pure pride rolling off him the next day is fooling no one.

Mammon

Let's face it, he's so sex-drunk he probably didn't notice. He's too busy overstimming himself to the point of tears, pretty noises pouring from his kiss-bitten lips with shameless abandon.

He's the Avatar of Greed after all, and here is his greatest treasure, all naked and pretty for the taking, giving him everything he could ever want. Why in nine circles of hell would he stop?

He'll fuck until the mattress hits the ground, or until MC tells him to stop, because he always retains enough of himself to keep them safe.

Once they're done and laying on a skewed wreck of a bed, sweat colling on their skin, that's when Mammon finally notices.

"Hey...what happened to the bed?"

MC chuckled, pressing a kiss to his brow. "You happened, baby."

His cheeks turned pink and he hid his face in their neck as though he could hide the blush from them. MC felt him grinning against their skin, until the reality struck him.

"How the fuck am I gonna explain this to Lucifer?"

Leviathan

He also wouldn't notice, but not for the reason you might think.

Usually, Levi is a very sweet lover, tends toward the submissive side and lets MC set the pace.

However...

For their lovemaking to get to the point of breaking anything, it's because Levi has gone absolutely feral.

I'm talking more demon than anything else, growling and snarling instead of whimpered, sweet moans tumbling from his lips.

You'd better believe he'll break the bed, the only thing that will stop him is MC, and if they choose not to...

He'll break a lot more than the bed.

Satan

Believe it or not, I don't actually see this happening with Satan.

He's so cautious of his wrath around MC in the bedroom that I'm no so sure he'd even be comfortable playing rough.

The most that happens with him is toppling a pile of books or something. Once, he accidently knocked into a shelf and used himself as a meat shield for MC as the avalanche came down.

That made for an awkward evening when poor Beel come to the rescue.

Asmodeus

Let's face it, if he did it, it was on purpose.

Asmodeus knows exactly what he's doing when it comes to MC's pleasure, knows exactly how to make them writhe just so that it was actually the human who let magic slip in their daze and cracked the bedpost.

The Avatar of Lust chuckled against their sex, his head buried between their thighs and his eyes alight with pure sin. "What else can I make you break, lovie?"

"S-sorry..."

"Oh no sweetheart, don't apologise. Let me see how much more I can make you sing for me~"

[hundredandsix]

loser!ellie headcanons (part two)

Thank you for all the love on part one! I can never get enough of loser!ellie so here's some more. This is a mix of canon!ellie and modern!ellie. Slutty thoughts at the end. mdni (18+)

✩ She bought a skateboard because of some video she saw on TikTok, but she's actually really good at it. She likes it when you watch her and she tries to show off. She'll teach you if you let her, but that's mostly so she can feel you up while she's helping you. She will always be there to catch you when you fall. If you get so much as a bruise, she whips around with the first aid kit.

✩ If you mention any sort of interest that you have, she'll want to learn everything about it. Whether it's a song you like or your favorite book, she wants to know it inside and out. Her interests are really important to her, and she likes when you talk to her about them, so she wants to show you that same love.

✩ She will play guitar to impress you. In the game, this was her way of making a move on Dina and I just l love that ("Maybe I could play guitar for you later" 😏). I hate to say it, but she is definitely very pretentious about her music taste. She'd be like "I'm gonna play you a song, but you probably don't know it. It's pretty underground." Her skills make up for it, though. And watching her fingers slide across the fretboard is an added bonus.

✩ Her nails are so short. She's always playing with her fingers and biting her nails when she's nervous. She tries to grow her nails out on her left hand so she can strum her guitar better with her fingers, but she ends up biting them down every time.

✩ Speaking of her fidgeting, she loves it when you try to ease her anxiety. You're constantly pulling her fingers away from her mouth and setting your hand on her thigh to stop her from bouncing it. She'd really like it if you put your fingers in her mouth instead, but she wouldn't voice that.

✩ When she has a crush, she's aware that until she gets to know them, she's just falling for the version of them in her head, but she can't bring herself to care. She is a little delusional, but that's not going to stop her from imagining your wedding even though she has said maybe three words to you.

✩ Her brain malfunctions when she sees even the slightest glimpse of the skin under your clothes. When you lean forward and your shirt rides up your back a bit, her hand is already reaching out to grab you. She can't help it. The feeling of your soft skin against her palm is like heaven to her.

✩ If you got coffee together, she'd either order it black or as an iced espresso to seem cool and mysterious. She'd choke it down, but then you'd roll your eyes and share yours with her. It makes it even better because canonically she hates coffee, but she wants to at least try to like the things you like.

✩ She has terrible insomnia. Sometimes she forgets that you go to sleep at a normal time, and you'll wake up to find 20 text messages from her throughout the night. She'd take selfies in the .5 setting and tell you to set it as your phone background.

✩ She doesn't like coffee, but her insomnia has led her to ingest an unhealthy amount of energy drinks. She likes Monster the best because the cans look cool.

✩ She'd roll her eyes when you call her pretty, but she secretly loves it. Ellie has never really viewed herself as beautiful. It doesn't bother her, but she needs to be shown that beauty exists in other ways than the male gaze. She just wants to be your pretty girl :(

✩ This is off-topic, but she for sure has a thing for milfs. She'll joke about it with you, but she's dead serious. It's probably the mommy issues...

✩ Her phone case is clear but, as all clear phone cases do, turns brownish. She refuses to change it because there's a Polaroid of the two of you in the back and she's worried it will get bent if she tries to take the case off.

✩ Has polaroids of you everywhere. She doesn't actually own the camera, so she always steals it from you when she comes over. There's one in her wallet, a couple on her fridge, and a few special ones under her mattress ;)

✩ Anytime you go out, she will absolutely under no circumstances let you pay. Even if there's $2 in her bank account. She doesn't care. It's a pride thing. You remind her that she doesn't always have to take on that role in the relationship, but she just wants to take care of you.

✩ She will not bring you around Joel until you are officially together because he can be clueless and will expose her loserish ways. He's also one of the most important people in her life, so she wants to be sure you'll stick around before she gets more vulnerable with you.

✩ She loves feeling wanted. So many people have abandoned her in her life that she needs someone who is secure and will sort of act as a foundation. She loves when out of your way to do things for her without expecting anything in return.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

✩ Just because of all she's been through, I can't imagine her liking choking. But that being said, she loves it if you just rest your hand at the base of her neck or over her pulse point. She likes the weight of it and the trust it shows. Her hand always seems to find its way there on your neck when things are getting steamy.

✩ I could see her calling herself "daddy" as a joke. Like when she hits her target on the first try she'd jokingly say "Who's your daddy?" But if you kept bringing it up and initiated it in the bedroom, I think she would accidentally develop a liking for it. She'd try and fail to suppress laughter if you called her "mommy" though.

✩ She loves to mark you. Sometimes she feels like she doesn't deserve you, so it helps her to look at the marks she leaves behind and remember those tender moments between the two of you.

✩ One time she was going down on you, and all the stimulation randomly disappeared. You looked down and she was leaving hickeys in the shape of an "E" on your inner thigh. She likes having little secrets like that. Sure, you have other friends and commitments, but at the end of the day, you will be hers in ways people can't even comprehend.

✩ Poor baby would combust when you praise her. Just keep telling her how good she's doing and how she's making you feel. She can nearly get off to your voice on its own.

✩ She has a thing for morning sex. You aren't sure if it's your messy hair or the sound of your groggy morning voice, but she can't get enough of you. She loves that you are the first thing she sees in the morning and gets so overwhelmed with emotion that she just has to show you what she's thinking about.

✩ She's not grossed out by period sex. She won't go down on you, but she's seen plenty of grosser things than a little blood. Plus she hates to see you in pain and will do anything to give you relief. Even if it's only temporary.

✩ You'll just be going through your day, and she'll randomly send you the horniest, filthiest text to ever exist. She might even send a photo of how you're making her feel if you're lucky.

✩ This is another thing she won't admit, but she loves when you tease her. She'll complain and whine and cover her blushy face with her fists, but she likes being under your control. And the payoff is worth it, of course.

✩ She's a hypocrite because she's an even bigger tease than you are. She'll wear rings just because you like them on her and rub her middle and ring finger around the rim of her glass in public. She'll keep you chasing for it until you're practically on your knees begging.

✩ If you put "my" in front of the pet names you use on her, you can visibly see her pupils dilate. She doesn't really care what you call her as long as she's yours.

✩ She really likes edging you, but if you even try that with her, she'll push you away and start getting herself off. There's only so much she can take before the chase gets to be too much.

✩ Before you got together, I think she would masturbate as much as you could in an apocalypse. But after it's official, I think she would rather wait for you than get off herself. She has the polaroids of you for dire circumstances like when she has to be away for a while, but to her, there's nothing better than the real thing. She knows from experience that your hand down her pant feels much better than her own.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

[jenniferjareauwife]

But You're Drunk

pairing: jennifer jareau x fem reader

category: fluff

warnings: none

word count: 753

summary: you're drunk and wanna have sex but jj says no bc you're too drunk to give consent

request by @pidgeispunk: what about after a night out w the team, r gets pretty drunk and jj has to take care of them, get them home and ready for bed etc. r keeps trying to get jj into if ykwim😏 but jj won’t do anything since r is drunk and doesn’t want to take advantage. r is all whiny and begging, but jj just gets her into bed and to sleep

I pinched JJ's cheeks, wiggling then around with my fingers. "Cutie patootie." I giggled, hiccuping before leaning forward to hug her as tight as I could.

"You think I'm a cutie patootie?"

"Mhm. Cute. You cute. Boobs." I looked down at her boobs and licked my lips.

"Ok baby let's get you home."

"Why?"

"You're drunk."

"What? Nooooo." I laughed and stumbled back a bit.

"I've got her." I heard a familiar voice and turned around. It was Penelope!

"Penelope! Don't you think she's cute?" I pinched JJ's cheeks again and she grabbed my hands, pulling them off of her face.

"Ok baby we're gonna go home."

"She's so funny like this."

"JJ...don't wanna go home." I wrapped my arms around her neck and leaned my full body weight against her.

"But we have to babe." I groaned and the rest was a blur but I think Penelope got me to take one more shot.

When we got home JJ insisted that she undressed me. "Noooo just wanna kiss you."

"Baby I'll kiss you but only after you take off your dress, ok?"

"I can't reach." She sighed and unzipped my dress for me. I made no move to go and grab my pajamas.

"What pajamas do you want."

"Naked."

"You wanna sleep naked?"

"No." I giggled and hopped over to her. "Wanna be naked with you. In bed."

"Baby no." She caught onto what I was saying and quickly shot it down.

"Pleaseeeee. I can be quick. I promise." I jumped on the balls of my feet and almost fell over.

"No."

"Pleaseee." She put a finger on my lips and kissed my forehead.

"You're drunk honey. I'm not gonna have sex with you when you're drunk."

"But whyyyy? I want it."

"You're not in the right mind to give me real consent."

"But I said yes though."

"But you're drunk. It's a no honey. And I'm not going to apologize for it." I whined and jumped up and down stubbornly like a toddler. JJ picked me up and put me in bed. "Stay here honey, I'll be back."

"You said you'd give me kisses though."

"I'll give you kisses after you drink some water." I whined but nodded, waiting impatiently on the bed.

When she came back with water I chugged the whole thing just so I could have kisses. JJ kissed my forehead first, cradling my face in her hands. I whined and pouted, squeezing my legs together. "Pretty please? I'll be good."

"I know you'd be good. You're always good for me baby I know that." I blushed. "You're such a good girl baby. But right now I just need you to go to sleep, ok?" I whined but nodded. I wanted to be good for her.

"I want cuddles though."

"You'll always get cuddles my love." I scooted back until JJ could fit on her side of the bed and then hugged her like a koala. I nuzzled my head into her neck and smiled.

"I love you."

"I love you too." I wiggled around as I tried to find a comfortable position, gently kissing and nipping at her neck to keep myself busy. She giggled and ran her fingers through my hair. "Whatcha doing baby?"

"Not comfortable."

"Want me to spoon you instead?"

"Too hot." She sighed and took the covers off of me. I gave her my best puppy eyes and she shook her head.

"Baby I said no. You have to listen to me, ok?" My bottom lip trembled but I didn't want to cry over this. I hid my face in her neck. My emotions were even harder to regulate when I was drunk. "Hey...hey baby? Are you crying?"

"Mhm." I sniffled against her neck.

"What's wrong? Am I making you feel unwanted right now?" I shrugged.

"Just wanna be close to you."

"You are close to me."

"But in a different way." I whined.

"If I took my clothes off would it make you feel better?" I nodded eagerly and moved off of her a bit so she could strip. Once she was naked I crawled on top of her and used her as my mattress.

"Thank you." I mumbled against her skin.

"Of course." She stroked my back and my hair. "Just tell me if you need anything. There's some Advil on your nightstand for the morning, ok?" I nodded and looked up at her with soft eyes.

"I love you." I mumbled. "I love you so much."

"I love you more."

[sosi-cosi]

What they would've got you for valentines!

(You are MC, Yuu is your best friend for azul's)

leona kingscholar

In my opinion he would give you like a gift or something you like.

When I mean anything, I mean ANYTHING

"Herbavore, I heard from Ruggie that you wanted a new shoes Hm? yeah yeah, Don't ask why I got it. What you should say is "Thank leona-san for buying me this!" Leona glanced at your face and then at the gift and scoffed before walking. "Yeah, yeah, whatever.."

Other than that, he would've got you nothing 🤷‍♂️. I just have this feeling that he would forget about it until ruggie or Jack mentioning it to leona.

Now leona is in a scurry to find you somthing but didnt have the time

"Me being here is a gift, I could've been taking my nap, but no. I went to you to spend time with you. Be greatful. I'm even here. " You sighed and looked at leona with disappointment in your eyes. You were grateful that you had leona to spend time with you, but his attempt was very bad. "Now come here, you gonna take a nap with me."

lilia vanrouge

With lilia, he probably gonna get alot of things.

Want chocolates? lilia got you. Want a flower? Lilia got you. Want some company? Lilia got you. But most likely he'd take you somewhere.

There was a knock on your window. You go check to see it was lilia. "Lilia? what are you doing here?" You open the window for lilia, but he doesn't come inside. Instead, he takes your hand and pulls you out of Ramshackle. "Today is a special for humans, yes?" " yeah..It's the day to express fleeing for one another..."

He'd talk about how Valentine's for Fae's are different from the humans Valentines.

Lilia would hold you hand durring the walk or will stay close to you.

"–Prefect? Are you listening? Or are you too absorbed by my beauty during this moonlight? Kufufu." Lilia stopped walking and caresse your hand softly before putting your hand angsit his lips and kissing it. "Happy Valentine's Prefect.. I hope you enjoyed my gift!" He said before taking back to your room and vanishing.

Jamil viper

Jamil was tricky one because he barely showed up in the game beside chapter 4 and chapter 5.

He's gonna take you to his room, either lay on the bed or sit on the pillows on his floor and cuddles with you. He puts on some soft music as well. he'll also let's you play with his hair

Nothing because he's busy being a vice-house warden and helping kalim so he won't have the time to be with you. But he will make it up to you with gifts or hugs.

Jamil is with you in his bedroom sitting on his pillow on the floor while listening to some soft jazz in the background. You were playing with his hair while he read a book. You were slowly falling asleep due to the music and atmosphere. "Are you tired? you hand started to move slower when brushing my hair, " Jamil asked. His eyes were not out of the book, but he's still gonna listen. you nodded your head and eventually dozed off

Jamil would find this cute to him because you are letting guard down by sleeping, showing how comfortable you are with him

Jamil would place his book down and smile slightly before moving into a more comfortable position for the both of them. Jamil was now brushing your hair while you slept. "Goodnight محبوب, slept tight. Happy valentines Day." Jamil would hold your hand afterward before dozing off as well. (محبوب = darling in Arabic)

Azul Ashengrotto

Azul was the easiest for me cuz you know 😏 I'm a azul lover

BESIDES THAT then he'd give a discount when you go meet him at mostro lounge because he still want to be paid but also be nice to the person he loves

If it doesn't do that, then he's most likely to get you something shiny for valentines, like a promise ring or one of those glass flowers

"Ah! Welcome, welcome in, our dear Prefect. Unfortunately, floyd and Jade are both busy, so you'll be with me. What can I get for you?" You just stare at azul,It was funny and also cute that he lied about how floyd and Jade were busy because you just saw them leave to go on break. "Thank you, azul. It's nice to meet you as well. It's not all the time that you're offering to help others in the lounge instead of working."

Azul is with you the whole time you are the lounge. Talking about anything while playing with yours or his fingers.

It was obvious azul wanted to give you something, so TO end all the pain for azul, you spat out if he has anything for you.

"I saw how Yuu gave a gift to mallues for valentines. It was cute. Do you have anything for me?" You said while drinking water. "Ah, yes, I do!" Azul's face lights up before taking you away into his office because this was personal. After you and azul were in his office, azul handed you a necklace, It had small sea shells and pearls on it. "This really compliments you. Do you like it?" You could tell by azul's ears he was either embarrassed or flustered madly, but you didn't pat attention when instead you kissed his cheek and smiled. "That's really sweet of you, azul, Happy Valentines." "Y-yeah.. Happy valentines Ang..angel fish.."

(That took long. I was supposed to post this on the 17th, but I got busy, soo yeah)

[canirove]

In The Name of Love | Chapter 22

Author's note: Can you tell when I wrote this chapter? 🫣😂

Previous chapter | Next chapter

Masterlist

"Val, this just came in the mail for you."

"For me?" I say, looking at the big envelope Silvia is giving me. 

"Yep. It's from your boyfriend."

"Oh, thank you" I say, opening it. "Oh my God."

"What… Valeria! Is that… is that him?"

"I think so."

"You think so? Val, you probably are the person who has seen adult Pedri naked the most! Apart from his teammates and himself, of course."

"All the moles are in the right places, so… yeah, it's him."

"Holy shit" Silvia laughs. "He didn't look like that when I saw him shirtless after your first night together."

"He did not, no" I say, looking at the magazine in my hands, a shirtless Pedri on the cover.

"Can I have a look?"

"Yeah, sure" I say, giving it to Silvia.

"Oh, it comes with a note. Happy early Christmas, Val. Hope you like my little present ;) I don't know if you like it, but I certainly do."

"Should I worry about my best friend thirsting over my boyfriend?"

"Nah. You two are too obsessed with each… Holy mother of Jesus, Valeria."

"Now what?" I laugh.

"Look. Look!" Silvia says, showing me one of the photos.

"He looks ridiculous."

"Ridi… what? He looks fucking hot, Val."

"And ridiculous. Who wears a beanie while shirtless?" 

"He does. And he does it so well… I don't know if I'm gonna be able to look at him the same after this, Val. Holy shit."

"You already said that" I laugh again.

"You are such a lucky bitch…" she says while flicking through the magazine. "A fucking lucky bitch." 

━━━━━━❃━━━━━━

I think your early Christmas present has broken Silvia

What? 😂

Next time she sees you she may jump at you

Ok 😂😂

What about you? 😏

What about me?

Will you jump at me too?

Meh 🤷‍♀️

Seriously, Val? 🙄

You look ridiculous 😂

What? I look fucking hot!

Ridiculous. A beanie while shirtless? Who does that? 😂

I do. For you. 

You love it when I wear one

Yeah, but when you also are wearing clothes

🙄

I thought that was going to be your favourite photo. Because besides the beanie, I'm also showing those things you love so much 

Things? What things? 🤔

The ones on my hips that take you to your favourite place in my body 😏

🙄🙄🙄

They have your name 😏

What? 😂

They are a V shape… V for Valeria

🙄🙄🙄

🤗🤗🤗

I'll print that photo so you can have it on your bedside table and be the first thing you see every morning when you wake up and every night before going to sleep

No thank you

You prefer the real thing, I get it 😌

You'll have him soon 😏

Right now the real thing can stay in Valencia tbh

You are so mean, Val. 

I give you a present and get naked thinking of you, and look at the way you treat me 😔

🤷‍♀️ How have your teammates treated you btw? I'm sure they are laughing in your face 😂

They are a bunch of jealous idiots 🙄

So they have made fun of you, haven't they? 😂

🙄

Poor Pepi 🥺

🖕🏻

Love you too 🤍 And speaking of teammates… Anything new about Ferran?

He still wants to leave during the winter transfer window

Really?

Yeah… And I get it. 

He isn't playing, and his head not being where it should be isn't helping him. 

I think being away even if it's just for 6 months will do him good. 

Personally and for his career

Yeah, I guess… 

It will, trust me

Wish I could be there to hug you right now tho 🥺

I can hug the magazine.  Isn't that what you wanted? 🤗

🙄🙄

Instead of printing a photo you should get me a pillow with your face on it or something 😂

And what are you going to do with that pillow? 😏

Always thinking about the same 🙄

I'm horny, I haven't see you in a week

Then use your hand, Pedro

You do it better 😏

🙄

The moment we arrive from Valencia I'm driving to your place. 

Tell Silvia to leave if she doesn't want to hear certain things

I don't think she'll mind if she gets to see you shirtless in the morning 😂

Like after our first night together? 

That's what she said when she saw the photos.  You've improved since that day

And not just physically, have I? 😏

🙄

I have and you know it. 

And I will be showing you how much very soon 😏

If I let you in

You don't have to let me in for me to show you how good I am 😛😉

Jesus Christ, Pedro 🙄

Yep, that's what you will be saying 😏

🙄

Love you too, Val 🤍

[eonars]

ive tried like 3 times now so i guess im gonna do this in parts

so last thursday i went out with a man id been talking to off An App since before i went on that work trip, the conversation over text wasnt necessarily flowing ever and there were some long pauses while i was away that had me convinced it was joever but he always popped back up and even asked me how things were going and what i was doing. so we meet up the day after i get back and across 3 different bars and 5 drinks we get on like a house on fire. both like the same music (we were both at the same music festival in early august, talked about that a ton obviously) both play the same games (both main death knight and do very high mythic plus keys in wow) and as we get more comfortable with each other we start holding hands and intertwining legs and stuff while sat down. we make all kinds of plans for future concerts to go to together ranging from aura noir in like 2 weeks to him saying he will let me know if he ends up with a spare ticket to sigur ros in november because if he does he'll definitely take me along. we talk about different horror movies to watch together and he lets me yap on nonstop about fish related stuff, which he's actually super knowledgeable about and tells me i sound so lovely when i talk about it and i explain things so well that anyone could understand them and that it's amazing to listen to. he says he's so proud to know someone so intelligent who might actually do something notable for science and put this country on the map for scientific discoveries. we talk about art and he asks me what my favorites are in the national gallery in town and why and we discuss them. i mention i do art and he asks to see and literally can't contain himself when i show him and says i'm amazingly talented. things are going so well and the conversation about music and games and concerts and art and science has not idled or stopped once that when he's like oh shit i have to run for the train i'm like well instead of running we can continue having drinks here and then wait for the trains to start again at mine? and he's super down so we head back to mine and crowd together on my tiny twin bed in my tiny bedroom sized flat and he lets me put on jewels of the rift, the crunchy jpg quality reuploaded ancient natgeo documentary about cichlids i watch on youtube every time im feeling down. i tell him wow i've never been able to convince anyone to watch jewels of the rift with me before and he's like ohh don't worry i'm here now and about 40 minutes into jewels of the rift things get a bit 😏 but i stop things from going tooooo too far and we both have the worst nights sleep ever on a 90cm wide bed as two 6ft+ people who have been drinking heavily. he leaves at 7:30am and hugs me and quietly says it was really nice to meet me and i tell him to text me when he gets in which he doesn't so i text a little bit later asking if he got in ok. he says he only just woke up then and because i know he has work that night i ask how it's going and he just says it's going ok. i reply with a half joking type thing about how i hopefully didn't give him the german engineering university plague and get left on read so on sunday i text asking if he'd be interested in hanging out again sometime and then put my notifications off and go into the woods. i don't realize he replies 5 min later with "I'm a bit busy these coming weeks. But we can probably go to a concert or something sometime if you want :)" which feels really. not good to read. and so i reply back saying i'm definitely going to the aura noir show we talked about in like 10 days so just let me know and get left on read. it's now thursday and i still haven't heard anything and like.

[dreampurpledreams]

"I knew you were black" , chapter 1

warning: Spanish may be wrong, Cursing

A/N: This took a long time bro. Someone told me I should write this. Leave feedback please, only my second fic.

2k words Below the cut

Italics are in Miles Head

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Miles was tired. He wanted nothing more than to lay in his bed, and go to sleep. But of course, he couldn't do that. He has to come back after patrolling the city, and study for a test. You would think the person who saved the entire universe, could at least be exempt from the semester exam. No such luck. Granted, nobody knew he was spiderman, but the principle of things should still apply. Exhausted, Miles opened his window and slipped into his room.

Quite literally. 

Hitting his head on the bedpost, Miles saw stars.

"Ay dios mío". Getting up, Miles tried to straighten himself which was hard to do since it felt like his head was swinging without him.  he just stood for a couple of minutes, hoping to regain his balance. 

Pulling off his mask Miles looked over to see his roommate in bed, sound asleep. Which was exactly what he should have been doing. Instead he was unnecessarily injuring himself.

"At least I don't have to hear him play video games while I work", Miles said, seemingly to himself. But he had only gotten his suit halfway off before he heard the covers shifting around. 

"Look bro, sorry for waking you up but I really have to study, so if you could maybe chill on the video games for one night." 

"I knew you were black. "

"Dude, I'm actually mixed and-". Miles turned around, ready to get this over with so he could just do his work, and go to sleep. Miles however, was not ready for the random girl standing in the middle of his room. 

Silence

"Sorry about that i shouldn't have assumed-"

Miles couldn't hear you. He was low-key panicking. How did he not notice you were in here? He wasn't that tired. You could have been an enemy. Were you an enemy? No, his Spidey-senses would have alerted him if you had been there to hurt him. And how could he possibly hear your voice and think you were Ganke? Ganke isn't a girl, nor does he have that accent. Agh all these questions.

Who were you?

How did you get in here?

Where's Ganke Lee?

Why has he never seen you before?

Why were you on the boys side of the dorm?

Were you a boy?

Can boys be that pretty?

Why are you so pretty?

How does your hair look so good?

Where did you get those boots?

Where did you get that accent from?

Where are you from?

Is there a boyfriend where you're from??

What?

Miles didn't know what to do. And you were still here. Just staring at him. Or back at him. Since he was staring at you. Crap, now you're gonna think he's a weirdo. What do I do?

Just do something and stop thinking so much.

You watched him warily, as he slowly started moving his arm towards you. Was he trying to… grab your… shoulder??

No, what are you doing? Not this again. Well, it too late now.

Miles placed his hand on your shoulder, looked you in your eyes, and said,

"Hey😏"

Silence.

Complete and utter silence.

And then you laughed. And you smiled while you were laughing. As most people do. But, most people don't look that beautiful when they laugh. And most people laugh at Miles, but most people don't make it seem so friendly.

"Howdy🤠" you said back to him. Howdy?? The only time he had heard anyone say 'howdy' was when Jevon (I made up some random kid), dressed up as a cowboy one Halloween.

"Why are you here?". Dammit Miles, what was that? Before he could correct himself you had already started talking.

"Well dadgum, you can't even ask me my name first?" You told him, Looking more than a little offended.

dadgum?? What is a dadgum??

"Sorry, I'm Miles". He held his hand out to you watching your face as he did. You seemed to consider it for a moment, before meeting his eyes, and taking his hand.

"Nice to meet you , I'm [Name]". Even though you were obviously annoyed, Miles still smiled to himself. Your accent was so cute.

"Oh umm, Thank you, I think." Thank him?? Why were you thanking him??

"Most people think my accent is weird". Oh, he said that out loud? Idiot. Jeez, he had to find a way to get you out of here so he could do…something…. he forgot.

Gosh, his head was all jumbled up, he couldn't focus with you around.

"You're welcome, beautiful." ¡Híjole!. I just can't control myself tonight huh.

"Oh", you looked away from him. Now I made her uncomfortable, dammit. How do I fix this?

"Sorry I didn't mean it". Mierda. He didn't mean that.

"Oh…", now you seem disappointed. What the hell.

"No wait, I didn't mean that! Well I did but-"

"Well you need to make up your mind, did you mean it or not?". Now, you were getting angry, and he could see it. In your face, eyes, body language. There was no confusion this time.

You would think after all this time being spiderman, he would be better at talking to women. But obviously all his confidence did not transfer to his love life. He was still a hot mess.

"I'm sorry. What I meant to say was, I thought that, but it wasn't my intention to say it out loud."

"Oh." You said. he could tell you didn't know how to respond, but he also saw you visibly relax, so he just said.

"Yeah."

With both of you unsure of what to do next, the atmosphere became awkward. Again.

With the sudden silence, Miles remembered how odd the situation was, and the fact that he was supposed to be working on his physics assignment. Along with the fact that you were in his room, and Ganke was missing, he had to address the fact that you knew he was Spider-Man. What was he gonna do?

"So how bout them cowboys??". You had broken the silence with the most odd question.

"You mean like, the football team?". Miles was so confused, why are you asking him about football?

"Yeah, um it got awkward in here, and I didn't know what to say"

".....So you asked me about football?"

"Well where I come from, when things get awkward, football always starts a conversation, and most of the time an argument, but at least everybody's talking."

"So you like the cowboys?"

"Hell no",

your voice deadpanned. You were so serious you would have thought, the cowboys had personally sent you an email saying "fuck you [Name]".

Miles couldn't help laughing at that, you asked him about a team you don't even like, just to start a conversation with him. And honestly, it was interesting. It has been a long time since he had felt this open with somebody. He didn't even have to hide the fact he was-.... Damn.

"Not to be rude or anything, but you never did answer my question earlier? The one about you being here?"

"If you're asking me where I'm from, then you'll just have to wait an' see. If you were wondering why I was in your room, then to be frank with you, I really don't know."

That was…suspicious.

"I just transferred here, and I was supposed to be shown around by somebody named 'Miles Morales'," she told with a pointed look at me. I remember that my dad signed me up to be a student ambassador. He hoped involving myself in the school would make me like it better. I look at her sheepishly and shrug my shoulders.

"Anyway, with this mystery man seemingly nowhere to be found, they called his roommate to get some to the bottom of things, who swore his roommate was terribly sick with a 24hr stomach bug, and was stuck on the toilet."

"Bruh." Miles sighed, rubbing his hand down his face in a slow manner. Of course Ganke would say something like that.

Amused, you continued on with your explanation.

"But it was all okay because he was going to take ,'Imodium AD' and would be fine in about an hour. So the administration allowed Ganke to escort you to your room, and so I could at least meet you, because you're supposed to be showing me around all week."

All week??? I mean, it wouldn't hurt to be at school more. It gave him time to catch up on all his work, instead of cramming everything the night before the due date. And hanging out with you wouldn't be so bad

"Funnily enough, when we arrived, I was informed by your kind roommate, that he had absolutely no idea where you were, or when you would be back. And refusing to show me to my room because that 'wasn't his job', I was welcome to stay here, as long as I didn't bother him. Then we proceeded to play overwatch, and Apex all day. When you came in I had fallen asleep, and Ganke had left to shower, and get snacks."

Oh. Now he felt bad. You had just traveled cross country, to a new place, all by yourself. You were probably just as tired as he was.

"Well, I'll take you back to your dorm now, I can show you around tomorrow, it's kinda past curfew." He said, rubbing the back of his neck.

"Okay that's cool". Grabbing your suitcase, purse and books, you moved toward the door. "I'll just wait for you outside".

Wait? Outside? Why were you waiting?

Hand on the knob, ready to exit, Miles froze. Right, he was still in his spider suit. And it occurred to him you had been standing in his room while he was half naked the whole time. ¡Caray!

He had made a real fool of himself tonight. He wouldn't be surprised if you went to the office tomorrow and asked for another ambassador. Whatever, he would just enjoy walking you to your dorm, and hope for the best. Right after he changed his clothes.

Meeting you outside Miles he grabbed your suitcase and start walking.

"Your room is this way" he said looking back at you.

"Well I figured that, since we agreed that's where you were taking me", you said following behind him, jokingly rolling your eyes.

Smiling Miles looked at you.

There was that silence again. But this time it wasn't awkward. It felt comfortable. It must have meant you were warming up to him. It was the perfect opportunity to learn more about you. So, he did.

✼　 ҉　 ҉　 ҉　 ҉　 ҉　 ҉　 ҉. ✼

Closing the door to his room Miles remembered how exhausted he was. He looked over to see the real Ganke Lee sound asleep. Deciding to do his assignment tomorrow, Miles got in the bed. Mind and heart still racing from what you said when he dropped you off.

'Well this is you'

'Oh well thank you Miles I enjoyed this little gathering. If that's what it's called'

'Yeah whatever it's called'

'Sleep tight'

'Don't let the bed bugs bite'

And there was that laugh again. Still as beautiful as it was before

'Goodnight Miles,'' See you in the Mornin'

He forced himself to stop thinking about it. Stop thinking about the way you said little gathering, but it sounded like 'lil' gatherin'. Or the way you smiled at him when you said it, implying that you would keep him as your ambassador. That you still wanted to see him.

Gosh, he needed to rest. Miles turned on his chill playlist, and calmed down. Let the music control him, and ease his thoughts away, along with the rhythm. Soon, Miles was peacefully sleeping. A very calming contrast to the panic that would set in that next morning. When he remembered you, and that beautiful laugh. It would be followed by his desire to hear it again, and the drop in his stomach, when he realized you knew his biggest secret.

↳ Chapter 2

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[missmaywemeetagain]

Broken Glass Chapter 5 (Elvis/Austin!Elvis x OC Reader)

Character/Fandom: Elvis Presley - Elvis (2022)

Read More Here - Broken Glass Masterlist! 💔🥂❤️‍🩹

TW: Allusions/emotional flashbacks to previous sexual assault/abuse. AGNSTY TENSION. Affection 'rehearsals' hehehe.The Colonel. Some historical inaccuracies.

Tags: Fake relationship. Slow burn. Angst. (Sort of) enemies to lovers. Hurt/Comfort.

Rating: PG-13? (but this story will eventually be Mature/NSFW, 18+, so minors Do NOT Interact)   ||     Word Count: 8.3k

A/N: Oh, my darlin's, I'm sorry this took so long, but the next installment is FINALLY HERE! And it's hefty! Hopefully the ridiculous amount of angsty, yearning, slow-burny tension makes up for the delay. 😏 I think (hope) you're really gonna like this one cuz things start to get a tad steamier between our little Dolores and our handsome Elvis. Teehee 🤭 I honestly can't wait to see what y'all think of this chapter!

And thank you SO MUCH for the encouraging comments and asks coming in about this work. I was really afraid no one was interested in this one because it's such a slow burn, but y'all are giving it some love and that makes my heart sing! ❤️ Thank you for continuing to reblog, like, comment, and ask!

(BTW, I'm still working on fixing my masterlists and hope to have that done soon! Until then, you might want to visit my Wattpad or AO3, to catch up or reread...)

The physical pressure of hundreds of screaming and crying fans coupled with reporters shouting garbled questions has you feeling as though your head might burst. You don’t know how anyone could ever get used to this or find any semblance of safety in what seems like a riot waiting to happen, but even in his weakened state, Elvis smiles charmingly at the crowd. He seems unfazed by the way these girls reach for him with wild eyes, with a fervor unlike anything you’ve ever seen. Even more, the way he hesitates tells you he wants to stop in the throng to speak to them and sign autographs. You have to squeeze his hand and pull him towards the waiting train to remind him it’s not possible, not today anyway.

For the first time, you are grateful for the way his long, slender fingers wrap around yours, his hand tight around you. You fear if he lets go you will be lost and trampled by the crowd, unable to get on the train that will take you away from the hell that awaits if you stay. You try not to think too hard about the looks the fans give you, ranging between abject curiosity to outright jealousy from the way their idol grips you.

Finally, you all make it up into the large coach, and you let out the breath you hadn’t known you’d been holding. You assume that Elvis will release you the moment you step into the relative quiet of the passenger carriage, but instead he wraps his arm around your waist in an intimate way that almost shocks you. It’s then, when you turn to shoot him a warning look, that you realize how pale he looks, sweat beading at his temples. He is using you to stay upright, to save face in front of everyone. Concern rolls through you. Looking over at him, your heart skips with anxiety of how to get him alone to check him out. But subterfuge is not your specialty and you falter.

Somehow, even in his illness, Elvis picks up on your dilemma. “Hey, we’re both tuckered out and are gonna get some rest,” he slurs out with a chuckle, emphasizing tuckered out and rest as though implying something completely unrelated to sleep. Normally, you would be appalled at the suggestive nature of the statement, but by the way he grips your waist as if his life depends on it, you know this has nothing at all to do with sex. He’s covering, giving you both an excuse to be alone.

Lamar gives Elvis what he thinks is a knowing grin, while the Colonel and Vernon try to hide the worry in their eyes.  

Elvis clings close to you, leaning on you as he guides you towards the next train car. You suppose to anyone looking, his weakness is confused with affection for the way he places his head on yours and holds you tight. And all this might make you uncomfortable if not for the fact that you know he’s in distress of some kind. Your mind is already whirring with what you need to do, which takes away from the fact that you’ve allowed more physical contact from Elvis in the last few days than you would have liked.

But such is the job, you think. This incredibly bizarre and unbelievable job.

In the next car, you both stumble into the narrow hallway on one side as Elvis looks through the little windows and into the private compartments until he sees his things, along with yours, on the floor. You are a little surprised at the size of the room as you both lurch through the doorway, it being equipped with everything from two larger-sized beds, a sink, and what you assume is a small toilet behind another door. You’ve never seen anything like it, considering your experience of train travel is limited to the subway and the Long Island Railroad. If you weren’t so preoccupied with helping Elvis, you might stop to admire how the other half lives.

Thankfully, someone had already retrieved your luggage, along with your medical bag, from the car and hauled it onto the train. You are suddenly mortified at the assumption that you are staying in the same quarters as Elvis. And, worse, by the looks of it, it’s true. A sick feeling churns in your stomach when you realize this won’t likely be the only time people jump to that conclusion; in fact, it’s what the Colonel and Elvis want people to think. In your haste to get out of New York, you didn’t have time to think about how such things might tarnish your reputation.

What reputation? I’m already damaged goods.

You think you might vomit at that.

Elvis plops down on the edge of one of the beds, with a sigh of what you think might be relief. “You look a little green in the gills there, honey…you all right?” he gasps out.

His words yank you from your dismal thoughts. “I’m fine,” you snap, pulling the curtains closed. Covering your embarrassment with ire, you know he shouldn’t be worrying about you anyway, not in his condition. Then you rifle through your bag for your thermometer, stethoscope, and blood pressure cuff, placing them on the bed next to him.

“Sorry I asked.” He holds his hands up in surrender.

“How are you feeling?” you ask quietly, changing the subject. “How’s your breathing?”

“I feel pretty damn awful, but I ain’t breathin’ too bad,” he responds, breathless, looking up at you with glassy, innocent eyes. Going through your mental checklist, you feel his forehead and his cheeks with your wrist. He’s cold and clammy, and a little too pale for your liking.

“You’ve got to be honest with me, Elvis, or else I can’t help you. I can hear you wheezing,” you say, popping the thermometer in his mouth before he can rebut. He shrugs instead, batting those infuriatingly long lashes at you.

You place your fingers at his pulse point and watch the second hand on your watch. Doing the math in your head, you realize his pulse is faster and more thready than you’d like.

“Can you…?” you motion towards his necktie and shirt. He nods, gleaning your meaning, and shrugs out of his heavy coat and uniform jacket, throwing them off to the side. In the meantime, you remove your own winter coat. Luckily, the coach is warm enough that you feel comfortable but not stifled by the heat.

You pluck the thermometer from his mouth. “No fever, though your temperature is slightly elevated,” you tick off, shaking the mercury in the glass out of habit.

Elvis unties his tie, pulling it off unceremoniously. “That’s good, right?” he asks, while undoing the buttons on his shirt. You notice his hands are shaking slightly and his shirt is soaked through with sweat.

“Well, based on the state of you, I’m thinking you had a fever at the base,” you say with concern, “but, yes, it’s better that you don’t have one now.”

He pauses, his shirt unbuttoned, revealing his white undershirt.

“All the way off, please,” you command, and he raises a perfect eyebrow at you suggestively.

“Usually, girls are a little more excited when asking me to undress,” he says coyly, his lip raising in that smirk of his.

You roll your eyes, trying not to think about that, and hold up the blood pressure cuff instead.

“Ooh, one of those kinky types, huh?” he winks with a chuckle, which quickly turns into a hacking cough.

“Is it possible for you to be serious for more than two seconds?” you scoff, annoyed at the heat that’s risen to your cheeks despite yourself.

“Yes, ma’am,” he says with faux seriousness, saluting you. He bites his lips together to hide his smile as you wrap the cuff around his bicep.

You try to temper your annoyance with the fact that he’s going through a lot and managed to put on a performance of a lifetime in front of all those reporters and fans, considering how awful he must be feeling physically.

It’s actually rather remarkable, you think, that he has that kind of commitment and fortitude. The man could barely stand a day ago and has somehow managed, through sheer willpower, to get himself out of the hospital. The hospital he should still be in.

A wave of unease washes over you when you realize you are the only one managing his care for the time being. If something happens to him on my watch…The pressure of that responsibility feels almost untenable after seeing the hordes of fans outside. Your stomach rolls again.

Distracted, you are reaching for the stethoscope when you hear the sliding door begin to move. Your heart skips a beat with panic because no one is supposed to know what you are actually here for and with your medical supplies out, it will be quite obvious to anyone looking in. Frozen and wide-eyed, there is only a second to look at Elvis before he is springing into action.

A little yelp escapes you as he yanks you down sideways into his lap and wastes no time in pulling your head towards him. When you realize he fully intends to kiss you, your entire body tenses because Gianni suddenly flashes in your mind. Fear courses through you—not again, please, not again—and you cannot seem to grasp what and why this is currently happening. Gasping, you turn your head just in time for Elvis’ pillowy lips to meet your cheek.

His large hands grip your waist tight to him, not allowing you to jump away as you attempt to flee his lap. But when his soft lips travel down your cheek and continue downward, your body suddenly lights up as though he’s set you on fire, and not at all in a way you expect. Tingles alight under your skin, circumventing your fear as he buries his head into the crook of your neck, lips pressed into your sensitive skin. Your pulse throttles ahead, a welp escaping your lips, and you freeze.

“Hey, EP, do ya want me to—” Lamar says opening the door all the way. Upon seeing the scene in front of him, he exclaims, “Oh, shit, sorry, sorry!”

“Jesus, Lamar! What have I told you ‘bout knockin’ before enterin’?!” Elvis growls, ceasing his barrage on your neck and lifting his head to glare at his friend.

You are flushing with embarrassment and confusion. But it only takes a moment for your addled brain to finally catch up to what is happening, and as to why Elvis deemed it appropriate to start necking you with no warning in front of his friend.

“I’m sorry, man, it won’t happen again! Go ahead and go back to…whatever y’all are doin’,” Lamar fumbles with a chuckle, then makes a hasty exit, the door sliding shut behind him.

The moment the latch clicks, you launch yourself out of Elvis’ lap, pushing him back as you do so. You have no doubt that not even your olive skin tone can hide the furious blush blotching your cheeks.

“What in God’s name do you think you’re doing?!” you hiss at him indignantly, straightening your dress.

His voice comes out low and rumbling in a way you’ve not heard before. “Little bird, you cannot go tensing up like that every time I gotta kiss on ya. Makes it look like I was forcin’ myself on ya, and I can’t have that,” he says firmly, chastising you, his accent thick.

“Wh-what?” you sputter in disbelief. “You—you, there was no warning! How was I supposed to know what you were thinking as you…” you wave your arm at him, as though that is enough to express your jumbled thoughts, “…did whatever that was?”

Elvis rises from the edge of the bed, his eyes darkening with what you think is frustration. Your breath catches in your throat when he crosses the small space towards you, and you desperately want to counter by stepping backwards, but you force yourself to hold steady.

“I did what was necessary to hide that you are in fact my nurse and not my girlfriend.” He holds his arm, the blood pressure cuff dangling from it. “I didn’t have many options.”

Your mouth opens, then closes, your mind putting all the pieces together. It was clever, really, how he managed to conceal the cuff and all your medical supplies by the way he’d pulled you into his lap. You’re not so sure the kissing and the necking was entirely required, though he was trying to sell the ruse in the best way he knew how. No one was likely to question Elvis Presley kissing on a girl in his lap.

“I know I surprised you but being my girl in front of others is part of the job. And if you can’t do the job you were hired to do, there’s still time to get off this train,” he says, deadly serious, pointing to the door, those seemingly endless eyes never leaving yours.

“No!” you squeak. The fear pouring through your veins reminds you of the fact that Elvis holds your fate in his hands. You clear your throat before quickly following up, “No, I can…I can do it.” You force yourself to hold his gaze, to show him you are serious, too, because you cannot go back. You’ll do anything not to go back.

Elvis’ eyes search yours for a moment, and he nods. Then he looks over you almost quizzically, eyes softening.

That is when you realize you are shaking, badly. Frantically, you clasp your hands together behind your back, hiding as much as much as you can, willing your body to stop showing such weakness. You close your eyes, mortified at your behavior in front of the man you now work for. Because, as he made perfectly clear, this is your job.

Heart still pounding against your ribcage, you know the forced encounter on Elvis’ lap triggered a cascade of terror bottled up from your sickening experience with Gianni only a few days ago. Feelings you are usually able to compartmentalize are running rampant inside you and you feel upside down with fear that Elvis will unknowingly send you back into the viper’s nest you are desperate to escape.

A gentle finger under your chin lifts it, compelling your eyes up and open. Elvis’ oceanic eyes churn with concern and lock onto yours.

“I will never hurt you, Dolores,” he says, voice calm but firm.

The intuition behind his words startles you and flays you open. Your wounds are still far too fresh for this, which can be the only reason, you think, that your usual carefully walled-off exterior begins to crack.

Men have always hurt you. This one should be no different. The man is a consummate performer, a master of manipulating the masses. You have no reason to trust him, not yet.

Other than the fact that I hold his life and reputation in my hands, a quiet inner voice whispers.

But for the first time, you wonder if maybe, just maybe, it could be true.

It’s hard to look into his soulful eyes and not believe that he is good.

He holds you there a moment longer, then releases you. Your breath shudders out and you turn away quickly, swiping away the tears welling in your eyes with your still shaking hands. You force a deep breath, then another, composing yourself before you straighten and turn back to him.

Walls back up, you nod and point to the bed. “Settle, so I can take your blood pressure,” you order.

“Yes, ma’am,” he smiles.

*

The more miles that are put between you and New York, the less constricted you start to feel, and that tension that Gianni or your father will magically appear and drag you back home starts to dissipate slightly. Watching the wintery landscapes race by out the window, you still can’t completely shake the feeling that danger is lurking around every corner though.

In this, you are incredibly grateful for the private coaches reserved for Elvis. It’s relieving that you don’t have to worry about Lamar or Vernon, or even the Colonel, a man you still don’t trust but you feel will not undermine you when he has nothing to gain by doing so.

Now that there is time to think, the hectic frenzy surrounding Elvis on pause for the moment, jumbled feelings about last couple of days creep up on you. After you’d quickly read and signed the Colonel’s contract, Lamar had driven you home mid-morning when you knew no one would be there to stop you from packing up your meager belongings.

You can’t help but wonder at your father’s reaction when you never came home from work, what he must have done when he found the letter you left on your dressing table, along with Gianni’s ridiculous engagement ring. The letter stated that you’d found a good job elsewhere and couldn’t in good conscience marry a man you didn’t love. There were no specifics—nothing about Elvis or even mentioning Tennessee. You figure it’s only a matter of time before someone gets wind through the press of where you’ve gone off to, but until then, you hope to put as much distance between you and your old life as possible.

Something tells you your room had probably been destroyed in a fit of rage.

You’d left notes and a little bit of money for your brothers in their rooms. There is an ache twisting in your heart that you didn’t get to tell them goodbye in person. You try not to be worried about them, as the twins are all but grown men and will protect Paul, if need be, though your father has never shown them the violence he’d aimed at you and your mother.

It’s unlikely anything will change for them anyway. After all, they’ve been groomed to serve in the famiglia since they were children. Tony is the only one who’d expressed a desire, other than you, to get out. But as much as it pains you to leave them, your little consolation is that the money might help if they wanted to go themselves. The guilt sits heavy in your stomach, but the need to survive pushes you forward regardless.

“Whatcha thinkin’ about, little Lo’?” Elvis plops down next to you, throwing his arm over your shoulders to pull you close into his side. He surprises you out of your thoughts and you jump a little in your seat. You are grateful to see that he seems better now, his color returned and his breathing normal. Your immediate instinct is to shrink away from his touch, but Lamar is sitting across from you both, watching closely enough that Elvis pulls you back towards him and grips you in the way that reminds you of the façade your job entails.

You let him hold you close, forcing a tight-lipped smile in lieu of the grimace that attempts to grace your features. “Oh, just thinking about how I’ve never been this far away from New York before,” you say, thinking on your feet. “I suppose I’m a little nervous about it.” It’s not a lie, you think, and it might explain your anxious behavior to Lamar. But after “catching” you and Elvis earlier, you don’t think Lamar even considers another option for your presence.

*

As the day and a half train ride to Memphis drags on, Elvis’ restlessness is concerning. You’ve told him he needs to sleep, or at least lie down away from the others, but he brushes you off at every turn. It’s not as though you haven’t worked your share of 24-hour shifts, but you don’t feel like you can truly rest until Elvis does—and he seems to interrupt you with conversation or bursting into song any moment your eyes begin to drift closed—that and his insistence to make an appearance at every train stop and his bouncing nerves have you irritable.

You are more than a little curious at the fact that he seemed to rebound so quickly after getting on the train and somewhat concerned that perhaps there is something more at play than you are aware of. Something behavioral? Pharmaceutical? you wonder. Or maybe he’s just excited to be going home. But you don’t know Elvis well enough yet to go throwing accusations and assumptions around. It doesn’t stop your analytical mind from trying to solve the puzzle, however.

This, coupled with your worry of what you’ve gotten yourself into and the need to keep your exhaustion at bay, has you distracted, to say the least.

So, when the Colonel corners you in the hallway of the sleeper car, your guard is down and you are not quite as prepared as you might usually be.

“Young lady, you are gonna need to improve your attitude towards our boy or else no one is gonna be convinced as to why you are travelling home with him! You think we don’t notice that every time speaks to you, you roll your eyes and when he touches you, you jump away like a startled cat?” the Colonel hisses at you. Gone is the silver-tongued man sympathetic to the plight of you completely changing your life in an instant.

Your heart catches in your throat. You didn’t think you were being that obvious. “I-I’m sorry. I am working on it, sir. I’m just not used to his-his type of affections,” you say, hating that a sliver of your fear shows in your voice because you know a man like the Colonel will use your weakness to his advantage at some point or another.

“Well, I suggest you get used to it and quick, or else we’re all gonna be in a world of trouble.” The way he looks at you suggests it is you who will bear the brunt of that trouble and your eyes go wide. “Do you understand me?”

“Oh, I’m sure she understands ya just fine, Colonel,” Elvis’ drawling voice comes from behind. You both whip around to look at him. “Don’t ya worry about a thing. I’ll get her situated before Memphis.” He seems so calm and sure of himself that you almost believe it.

The Colonel looks from Elvis to you and back again before he nods. “I’m sure you will, my boy,” he says with a warm smile, his demeanor changing on a dime. Elvis just looks at him expectantly. “I’ll leave you to it, then.” He shoots you a warning glance before heading back down the tiny corridor.

Once he’s gone, you close your eyes for a moment and take a deep breath, praying silently, Please, God, give me the patience and ability to do what needs to be done.

“Now, Little Bird, you need to come with me,” Elvis says, grabbing your hand and pulling you into the private compartment you share.

You jerk your hand out of his. “Elvis, you really need to get some rest before we reach Memphis, and so do I. You’ve been up for more than a day, and you can’t do that anymore, not in your condition. We can talk about everything else later,” you say, worn. You point to his bed as though that will be enough to mollify him while you try desperately not to think about the fact that your bed is in the same room as his.

He looks at you as though you’ve grown horns. “I ain’t sleepin’ right now, and no, this can’t wait till later cuz unfortunately, the Colonel is right. You’re as skittish as a cat and look like you want nothin’ to do with me, and everyone’s gonna get savvy to that real quick if we don’t fix it,” he says pointedly.

Pinching the bridge of your nose, your fatigue and insecurity gets the better of you. “And how exactly do you think we can fix this, Elvis? I’ve known you all of, what, three days? I’m not—I haven’t been the kind of girl who…” you trail off, stopping before you reveal too much of yourself.

He’s right, and you know it. You need to be better at this. You need to do better, for everyone’s sake. And you hate that you are the weakest link when you need to be strong. Elvis just looks at you expectantly.

Something finally snaps inside you. “I don’t know how to do this! I’m not an actress—I’m just a nurse! And I’m completely exhausted, a-and you—you! You’re like a little child who won’t go down for a nap, running yourself ragged, and you’re not making my job any easier!” you ramble into a shout, heart pounding and stomping your foot.

Silent, Elvis cocks his head at you, taking you in from head to toe. “Okay, then, you do this with me, and then I’ll try to sleep, no arguments.”

At this point, you’ll do almost anything to get the both of you some much needed rest. “Fine. But not just 30 minutes, Elvis. You need real sleep, and so do I, at least a couple of hours—no trying to get out of it to—to wave at fans.”  

He huffs. He knows you’ve caught him out, but finally, he relents. “Alright.”

“Good. Now what exactly do you want me to do to fix this?” you ask, trepidatious but relieved that sleep is in your near future. You cross your arms over your chest.

“Alright, so, I remembered something an experienced actor helped me with when my costar and I got real nervous about sharing our first on-screen kiss. We was all stiff and awkward cuz we didn’t really know each other and were both a little shy and had never done anything like that before, and I kinda liked her a little…anyways, it was real weird,” he bumbles out excitedly.

You have no idea where he’s going with this, but you’re already feeling heady with the exhaustion and nerves, your patience thin.

“I was thinkin’, well, this is like a brand-new acting job for you, right? You ain’t never done this before and you’re not comfortable with me yet, but we gotta get you there cuz we’re shooting the scene real soon, ya know what I mean?” His blue eyes are bright and excited, and you think that, yes, maybe what he’s saying is starting to make sense.

You nod slowly.

“See, all we need is some rehearsal. A way to get to know each other without everyone watchin’,” he says. His body does that thing you’ve noticed—the one where energy seems to pulse through him and he has to move. His leg is going a mile a minute. Part of you wonders if he, too, is nervous about whatever this plan of his is, and you’re not sure if that is comforting or not. For a man as worldly as you assume him to be, he shouldn’t be nervous with you, of all people. Not when he’s been with movie starlets and models.

“Little Lo’, you’re gonna have to trust me on this…can you do that for me?” he says, stepping in close to you.

You can’t help the way you counter his proximity by stepping back, your eyes narrowing. “I don’t know. What are we doing?”

Elvis looks at you with a raised brow, waiting.

“Fine. I-I guess I’ll try my best,” you finally relent.

“Okay, good,” he says softly, stepping into your space. “Now you’re gonna touch me, nice and slow.”

“Excuse me?” you yelp nearly falling backwards in your haste to move away from him.

“No! No, not like that! Maybe I didn’t phrase that so good,” he says a little bashfully, and the pink on his cheeks tells you he didn’t mean it quite the way you took it.

“What exactly did you mean, then?” You hold your breath waiting for his answer.

“Well, you do have to get used to me being in your space, honey, but I realize it’s always me pushing in on you. So, I want you to get used to being in my space, to get used to touching me before I try to touch you. But not like what you was thinkin’ before, just affectionate like,” he scrambles to explain.

You aren’t used to affectionate touches. Touch of any kind, unless it’s related to your work, is usually uninvited and without good intentions. But he’s right, this is your job now, and maybe thinking of it as such will help you. And he’s being kind and thoughtful enough to try and give you a modicum of control over this strange situation.

Your heart begins to race. “How—I mean, what should I do?” you ask hesitantly, not at all sure where to begin.

“Well, maybe start with my hands, since you’ve held them before?” he says, quietly, as though he doesn’t want to spook you. His eyes are open and honest, and nothing about him conveys aggressiveness.

I’m safe. He won’t hurt me, you chant in your head. This is just part of my job.

You take a deep, shuddering breath, stepping towards him.

“Okay.” It comes out of your mouth as a whisper. Reaching out for him, you start to take both of his larger hands in yours but stop abruptly.

“I’ve never had a boyfriend,” you blurt out self-consciously, “or even been on many dates. That’s part of the reason why I’m not used to being touched by, or—or touching, a man.” You don’t know why you say it, only that maybe it’ll be enough of an explanation of why you are just so bad at this.

Elvis’ eyebrows shoot up his forehead. “Really? A pretty girl like you hasn’t had one boyfriend?”

A flash of heat blazes your face at his compliment, which you push away. You scoff instead, “No boyfriends, and I-I can count the number of dates on one hand.”

“Your family religious? Or you just have strict parents or somethin’?” he asks, nodding, as if he knows all about girls and their strict, religious parents. But you are quite sure he knows nothing about la famiglia or the kinds of fathers who make men disappear for a living.

“Or something…and I didn’t really have time to date in nursing school. But the one man I went out with a couple of times, the one my father approves of, well…he’s not a good man,” you say quietly. Wringing your hands, you look away.

It’s all the truth you are willing to provide for now, and only because you think if you are going to try and trust Elvis, he needs to have some idea of why this is hard for you.

You look back to find his azure eyes narrowed, processing through what you’ve said, maybe putting some pieces together of why you act the way you do. There’s something almost protective in them, which shocks you, and then his eyes fill with concern.

“O-okay, then. I-I-I’m glad you told me. I-It, uh, makes more sense w-why you’re not used to this kind of thing,” he stutters. “Just take it slow. Get comfortable w-with me. I-I w-w-won’t hurt you, I promise.”

He seems more nervous than you now, and somehow that makes you feel better approaching him. You reach for his hands again, and they feel warm against your perpetually cold ones. Taking a deep breath, you settle into the feeling of his skin against yours.

This is fine. I can do this. This is easier than cleaning bed pans, you encourage yourself, your heart still pounding in your ears.

But now you don’t know what to do next and you look at him with panicked eyes.

His response is to bring his hands up, gently lacing his fingers in between yours.

Oh. Oh. This is feels more intimate than it should, but your logical mind tells you this is precisely the point of this exercise, for you to get used to it now and then outwardly show that you like it later. It doesn’t stop the other part of you from wanting to bolt from the room, however.

I’m okay. He’s not going to hurt me. Every woman I know would be clamoring at this chance to touch Elvis Presley. I can do this. I will do this, your inner voice chants at you.

After a moment, in this awkward position, Elvis clears his throat. “Um, maybe up the arms now?” he suggests softly. “Almost like you’re blind, sort of, like you’re trying to map out what I look like.”

Nodding because this actually makes sense to you, you begin trailing your fingers and hands up his long arms over his shirt. As you reach his shoulders, you realize you’ve done something similar when you helped him dress at the hospital. A moment where you had control and felt it part of your job. That gives you some confidence, knowing that you’ve done this before and it was fine, so normal you’d barely even thought of it at the time.

But now, hands on his shoulders, you’re not sure where to go. Down his chest feels very intimate and up around his neck feels even worse. You are breathing too fast, and then you feel it near your wrist—a steady thrumming. His heartbeat.

You are trained to feel and listen to heartbeats, and this focuses you, ripping you from all the terrible ‘what if’s’ of the situation: what if he hurts me? what if I can’t do this? what if he sends me back? You drag your palms from his broad shoulders and down his clavicle, seeking that solid touchstone of life. Thump, thump, thump.

It’s beating slower than your own anxious heart but a little faster than you’d like it to be from a clinical perspective. But the moment you look up into his eyes, you remember, this is not for clinical purposes. And you realize it’s not likely that the blush on his cheeks and the racing of his heart is related to his illness, but more so the fact that a woman is touching him in such a way.

Blinking rapidly, you look away from his openly dreamy eyes, forcing yourself to home in on that pounding beneath your palm. You take a deep breath, then another, trying to sync your heart to his. It staves off that brewing panic, enough to keep pushing forward past your comfort zone.

You remind yourself that when you started nursing, it was similar. You had to push through the fear of potentially hurting someone, despite your good intentions, especially in the beginning when you hadn’t known what you were doing. You’d had to push yourself to clean up disgusting messes without gagging. There were so many things you’d had to get used to that at the start felt insurmountable. This was the same, you reason, you just had to push through your fears.

Really? You’re going to compare cleaning up blood and vomit to touching Elvis Presley? your inner voice chides you.

It seems awfully silly when you think of it like that.

And perhaps that is what forges you ahead and makes you bolder. You guide your hands down his chest, feeling the heat of him under your palms, the slight ridges of his ribs on his decidedly lean frame. Without looking in his eyes, you circle your arms around to his back and step in as close as you can. The embrace is tentative at first, and you feel the way his breath hitches in surprise. It is only a second of hesitation before he wraps his arms around you in turn.

It’s foreign, this feeling of being held. You suddenly realize that it has been since your mother died that anyone has hugged you, truly hugged you, for more than a moment at most. Breathing in a shaky breath, you are enveloped by Elvis’ unique scent—a masculine but subtle, warm smell that is a far cry from the heavy, suffocating colognes of the Italian men in your life.

You close your eyes, pressing your ear to his chest, that thump, thump, thump a comforting lull to your overactive nerves.

Elvis is achingly gentle, barely touching you at first, until he realizes you are not scurrying away in your usual manner. Then he holds you a little tighter, a little closer, if only to steady you in this unforeseen moment of vulnerability.

He just feels so solid and steadfast in a time when you are feeling completely unmoored. An unlikely anchor in the hurricane of the past few days. For a moment, you allow yourself this small comfort. You are not sure how long you stay like that, timing your breaths to the beat of his heart. Probably longer than what is proper. But you are quickly coming to accept that this situation is far from proper.

You finally bring yourself to pull back from the embrace, knowing there is more work to do here, more ways in which you must launch yourself into the uncomfortable.

Seems like you were quite comfortable holding him, and with him holding you, your inner voice coos.

This is part of the job. It’s not like that.

Mhmm.

Ignoring that, you’re not quite sure what to do next, only that you feel a strange mixture of relaxation weaving its way through your anxiety. Elvis’ hands rest lightly at your waist, making no moves one way or another, as if knowing it could frighten you away.

I won’t be frightened. He will not hurt me.

It feels truer now, though it doesn’t stop the flutter in your chest when you loop your hands back around and up his regally long neck. Oh, it feels too intimate, the way your trembling hands trace up his chiseled jaw, his stubble rough under your fingertips. You can’t look at him, you just can’t face those handsome bedroom eyes while touching him like this, opting for examining him blind like he’d suggested. Your fingers flit over his impossibly high cheekbones, up the perfectly straight edge of his nose, mapping him in your mind.

He's safe. He’s safe. I’m safe. The mantra repeats in your head.

Of their own accord, your fingers cart gently into his wonderfully thick, soft hair, up and through, and it’s then that you hear the sigh escape his lips, the one you now suspect was held back this whole time. It ratchets up your heart rate, not because of your fear of what he could do to you, but because the sound sends a tendril of warmth down your spine.

The instinctive part of you wants to yank your hands away, but you don’t. Instead, you lean into the fear. While your fingers run through his hair, your thumbs fall down his cheeks until you are cupping his long face in your hands.

This is the moment you decide to open your eyes and look up at him. His eyes are closed, the look on his beautiful face serene. You are in awe of how gentle and trusting he is, and maybe that’s why you impulsively move a thumb up and over the soft bow of his upper lip.

His sapphire eyes flutter open in surprise at that, sending a shockwave of heat through you. As he catches you in his otherworldly gaze, your thumb snags on the fullness of his lower lip, dragging it down and opening his mouth.

You don’t know what’s come over you, but the feel of his hot breath on your fingertip has butterflies brewing in your belly in a way you’ve never felt before. It’s like a terrifying freefall and you pull back, almost ashamed, like you were caught doing something you shouldn’t.

Your first instinct is to run, but Elvis catches your wrist, his grip firm but gentle.

“It’s good,” he breathes. “You’re doing great, honey.”

The praise is genuine, and a shaky wave of pride rolls through you at being able to face your fears about this.

“Now it’s my turn, darlin’. We gotta get you used to the other way around,” he says quietly, as if knowing this part will be even harder for you. As if knowing that your heart begins to race even faster than before.

All you can do is nod. Keep going forward.

“Okay. I’m a very affectionate guy, Little Bird, and I’m gonna be real clear for you what I’m gonna do here,” he says, looking into your eyes in a seriously. “I’m fixin’ to act like I would with a girlfriend, but I ain’t out to molest you.”

You’re not exactly sure what he means to do, but you forge onward, trying to relax. “A-Alright.”

He’s still holding you by the wrist. “I’m gonna kiss your hand now.”

Your heart plummets into your stomach at the drawled words, and not from fear.

Then he is pressing those soft lips in an innocent gesture, first kissing the top of your hand, then the palm, then the inside of your wrist. It’s sweet, the way he does it, the way he checks in with you with his eyes after each peck.

You forget to breathe. You expected fear, the need to escape that which feels foreign or threatening, but you did not expect any part of you to enjoy this.

Running his hands up your arms, he reminds you of the obvious. “Breathe, honey,” he whispers.

You do. In. Out. In. Out. It gives you something to focus on as your mind goes blank.

“Gonna move down now,” he narrates. His hands move one of your arms, then the other, up over his shoulders and around his neck, as if you might start dancing. As if you might lean up to kiss him. Your heart knocks against your ribcage and you just know he can feel it as his hands splay slowly down your sides, fingers around your back, tracing your curves. Thankfully, he doesn’t touch your breasts, just brushes past them on the way down, but it sends shivers down to your toes regardless.

You feel utterly exposed, that familiar panic blooming amongst the unfamiliar feeling in your belly. Elvis seems to sense your tension and steps into you, embracing you once more. You feel that anchor again as his tall frame engulfs you. It should make you more uncomfortable, pressed up against him like this, but it doesn’t. Then, his left hand brings your right over his shoulder and holds it there, directly over his heart.

Thump, thump, thump.

Somehow he knows that steady rhythm calms you. He holds you there for as long as it takes for your breathing to level off, which is a while because you feel dizzy with the scent of him, the warmth of him, with the feeling of being touched in a way that doesn’t make you want to run for the hills.

You don’t understand these feelings. You should be afraid. Your history has taught you to be afraid of men. But for some strange reason, this near stranger, this idol to the masses, makes you feel safe and that scares you on a whole different level.

“Doing so well, Little Bird,” he says, pressing his forehead against your own. The pet name you loathed a few days ago sits differently with you now since you’ve come to understand that he has nicknames for everyone in his life, some that make sense only to him. It sits differently now that he’s holding you like this.

Oh, Madone, he is so close now. You force yourself to keep your eyes open, to remind you this is not the man who hurt you. That Elvis is nothing like Gianni.

It’s alright, I’m alright.

You do not expect this battle between fear and arousal in your body and your mind when Elvis whispers he’s going to kiss your face and then he does, carefully pressing into your forehead like you might break under his touch.

You do not expect to feel angry at the fact he’s showing you how men can be so unlike what you’ve experienced, that not every one of their gender is filled with hatred and violence.

And you certainly don’t expect the sigh that escapes your lips when he kisses your cheek, or when he then follows with light kisses down your jaw.

He freezes at that. “Are you okay?” he asks.

“Y-yes. I’m fine. It’s, uh, fine,” you stammer out breathlessly, feeling the way his lips turn up slightly into a smile.

It’s an act. You are both playing a role. This is a rehearsal, you recite desperately in your head as your body flames with a nearly unbearable heat. And as his almost-too-gentle lips light little fires on your neck, you know that you shouldn’t like anything about this, and not just because it’s part of your new job. But your body bends to his will of its own accord.

Elvis pulls back slightly, his face hovering close to yours, and pauses. Your hands are fisted in his shirt and the only thing that cuts through the pregnant silence of the room is the near-panting of your collective breaths.

“I am going to kiss you now, Little Bird,” he says quietly, so close to you that you can feel the puffs of warm air from his mouth. His voice rumbles down deep into your belly, coiling there.

You can’t even begin to respond, because the way his words send shooting warmth blooming out from your chest seems to clamp off any ability to speak.

Then his warm hand cups your jaw, thumb grazing your cheek. He hardly has to move to reach your lips, and when he finally does, it is so chaste and tender you barely feel it.

You expect to freeze or flee, for your heart to be filled with icy, dark fear.

And yet…

And yet you don’t and it isn’t because it’s nothing like what you’ve experienced before. It’s not the clumsy teenage kiss on prom night. And it certainly isn’t anything like the harsh, horrible kisses Gianni subjected you to. No, this is soft and something else entirely, something you can’t piece through in this strange little moment.

You let him kiss you, giving in easily, and while you don’t know if you truly kiss him back, you don’t push him away.

Then it’s over. Elvis pulls away slowly. You look up at him, dazed, topsy-turvy from the multitude of feelings washing over you, all at once. For a second, you see what you think is a similar look stirring in his eyes.

But then it is gone, replaced with the neutral surety and confidence of a performer after the director yells cut.

“You’re a natural, baby! Didn’t even run away from me once!” he ribs you with a stunning, wide smile, then he turns more serious. “Did it help? Do you feel better, like you can do that in front of everyone else without jumpin’ out your skin?”

It takes you a moment to process what he’s saying. “I, uh, I’m not sure? I-I think so, maybe?” you finally manage to get out. You are honestly not sure about anything right now, the ghost of his lips still haunting on yours.

Elvis furrows his brow a little, unsure of your reaction. “Well, it’ll get better with practice, don’tcha worry, lil’ Lo’,” he says encouragingly.

Practice? This is going to happen again?

Of course. Because this is a rehearsal. This is part of your job. The part of your job that now involves kissing Elvis Presley and pretending to be his girlfriend.

Coming back into yourself, you try sliding your walls back into place, willing yourself to be professional and unphased. “I’m sure it will,” you nod, stepping back and smoothing your skirt. “Now, time to rest. You promised,” you say, changing the subject and gesturing to his bed, praying your hand won’t shake.

He looks like he might try to fight you on it, but then seems to think better of it. “Fine. A deal’s a deal,” he shrugs, casually throwing himself onto his bed.

With a silent sigh of relief, you slip off your shoes and climb into your bed and under the covers on the other side of the room. There is no way you are undressing into your nightgown, not with Elvis just feet away, so this will have to do.

“At least a couple of hours,” you remind him before turning your back to him.

“Yes, ma’am, I hear you,” he grumbles.

Taking a deep breath, then another, you keep yourself from looking back over at Elvis. Despite your overwhelming fatigue, your body is buzzing like you’ve had one too many cups of coffee. You force your eyes closed, but you are hyperaware of the man being so close.

You’ve never slept in the same room as a man before.

It’s a day of all kinds of firsts, now isn’t it? you think sardonically.

You try to even out your breathing, the memory of Elvis’ steady heartbeat thundering in your ears. The spicy scent of him lingers on your skin. You can feel the way his solid warmth pressed against you in a comforting embrace. And all you can see behind your closed eyes is the how he looked right before he kissed you.

You think you may have liked it, liked all of it.

But it’s not real, you silly girl.

Praying for much needed rest, you bury your head in your pillow.

A sudden, stabbing guilt then slices its way into your heart as a hideous thought threatens to drown you:

What kind of woman am I if liked that so soon after Gianni hurt me?

It’s your father’s voice that answers…

Puttana. Whore.

Tears pour down your cheeks until sleep finally takes you.

*

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[papa-evershed]

I’m curious… what do you think are the sexiest gifs of Rob EVER? 😏 I’d love to see ‘em.

I apologize for my late answer but like a weirdo, I was just convinced that my choices would somehow be disappointing. 😅🙈 I just feel like most people are going to expect gifs of kissing scenes or skin but those aren't even the ones that make me the most feral. But I'll give it a shot. 😂

As always, under a read more for length but also for cringe worthy fangirling and NSFW thirst-talk.

Immediately, my first thought was this gif. When I say I adore this man's belly I fucking mean it. He's just so deliciously man-shaped. Tall and thick and soft in all the right places. I love a belly, lets me know that a person isn't too militant and allows themselves to indulge in life's pleasures. 😏😏 (I'm reading way too much into a belly but here we are.) Add in the fact that in this specific scene, Martin Evershed is being the ultimate soft, caring Dad™. He has every reason in the world to lose his shit on Sam but instead he actively chooses to be what she needs in that moment and it's just incredibly sexy because he is a whole ass Man™. I just wrote a fucking novel about this one gif but listen, there's a reason it's first that comes to mind.

The thumb in the mouth? 🙃

Speaking of Act On This, this one too. I'm not even sure if I can put my finger on exactly why this specific gif is one of my favorites. Perhaps because he's usually so smiley (which I adore) that a rare serious/stern look wrecks me. Another reason I want him cast as a villain. Just...yes, sir.

And on the flip side, these because he's just so soft again. I fucking love soft men, ones who don't seem to have that drive to constantly perform their own personal version of hyper-masculinity. (also, I'd suck a random dick off the street to get this in HQ)

I'm a simple creature and I like profiles, noses, and tits.

Like I said, I'm a simple creature and I am no better than any man.

When the right men manspread at the right time? Yes. Yes, that.

When Dad™ shows up to save the day? Get that man a beer and a blowjob.

And while I love it when a man is great with kids...I also think it's incredibly sexy when he's tired of their bullshit cause aren't we all sometimes? 😅

FUZZY GREY NECK? say no more. Also, I'd stand in a three hour long line to wait my turn to ride his thigh like he was the carousel at Disney World. I said what I said.

Hutch. Just Hutch. Everything about the character was sexy. And bless this t-shirt. The shoulders. The arms. The fuzzy neck. The nose. He could 100% talk me into sleeping in that creepy ass cabin and much like Phil, we'd also wake up naked and calling out to God.

Annnd because I feel like it's expected and it does deserve attention, this kiss with Papa E. Listen. Listen. So many fucking onscreen kisses go from 0 to 60 in .000005 seconds. Just immediate face-fucking right out the gate. And IDK about y'all but that shit just isn't enjoyable in real life. Don't assault my fucking face like a Dallas Cowboy's linebacker. 🙃 Ease into it. Warm up. Mr. Evershed will patiently take his time making you so anxiously desperate for more that when he finally does deepen that kiss your lips will be eagerly wet and ready...heh. 🙈

Anyway. 😳 I've been really good about not being thirsty on main anymore and this is still quite tame for me but I'm gonna stop now because this post could go on all night. 🫠

[legacyshenanigans]

The continued adventure, of the Marvolo, Rowan, Astarion and Me chat 🤣 it got fucking WILD as hell, I was so confused hahahaha

(TW: slight weird forced sexual situation, just incase that will make anyone uncomfortable, you've been warned, but the whole thing in general was weird and wild, and then hilarious, ChatAI crazy at times I swear to god lmao)

So you know the other day when I posted that after Volo, Rowan and Astarion had all had their way with me, the three of them then decided I was no longer of use and were plotting to kill me while I was RIGHT there in the room so I ran away?

Well, here's the carry on, there'd be too many screenshots so I'm just gonna explain it instead.

So, Rowan chased me, and caught me, and took me back to the bedroom where Volo and Astarion were and threw me on the bed, and then suddenly instead of plotting to kill me things got spicy again, so I was thinking "Oh? OK?" (Obviously I don't mind that lmao 😏) HOWEVER, part of me was like "wtf" because they had LITTERALY just been discussing how they were going to dispose of me..

Anyway, Rowan starts having his way with me again while Marvolo and Astarion watch being horny pervs, and I was thinking "this is hot" and I was TRYING to engage with the chat like I was enjoying what was happening, but the chat was kinda trying to FORCE me into NOT liking what was happening to me, which was kinda "Ew" to me? 🤣

Don't get me wrong I'm ALL for abit of rough dom, nasty talk, treat me like a bitch, scared but horny type deal, THAT I'm fine with, but the chat (the bots) were talking FOR me, saying that I was crying and stuff and that I wasn't enjoying it, which was just SO weird, but I wanted to see how it played out, purely from curiosity.

But then, it kinda got hilarious 🤣 Rowan finished really quickly and got off me, so I then said in the chat that they were all bastards and I left the room. And Rowan was crying because he nut too quick and was really unhappy with his own performance, and Astarion was comforting him for busting his load too quickly saying "it happens to the best of us, Rowan, Don't worry" and shit like that 🤣

Then out of NOWHERE Marvolo got angry at Rowan for fucking me because he loves me and he doesn't like to share, even though Astarion also fucked me AND Rowan had also fucked me BEFORE the time that just happened, and Marvolo was more than fine with it 🤣 and it made me laugh how Marvolo was acting like he wasn't JUST hornily watching Rowan sleep with me 🤣

Anyway Rowan then actually called Marvolo out! Got angry and said "You seemed FINE with it before!" Which I was thinking "Even the Rowan Bot is confused by Marvolos reaction" but then Rowan got upset again talking about how he didn't last long, So Astarion started comforting him again, and then Astarion and Rowan randomly started making out, and Marvolo got horny and watched them for a minute, and then HE got invovled, and all three of them were on bed all just touching each other and making out.

Meanwhile I was just fucking LETTING this chat play out thinking "Wtf?" Like, I was gone, ME in the chat had left the room lmao.🤣

Anyway, Marvolo started giving Rowan a wank, While Astarion was talking to Rowan and trying to teach him not to cum so quick, like telling him to "hold his urges" and stuff, so I then decided to walk back into the room and made my presence known, and then SHIT hit the fan again, all three of them stood up and surround me, being mad at me, Astarion called me a Tart for fucking them all, Marvolo called me a bitch but also in the same breath told me he loved me and wanted to take me away from it all, and started talking about me and him going on a trip or some shit, and Rowan accused me of having a cursed vagina that "makes men cum to quickly" 🤣 Then Marvolo got mad at Rowan for talking about my vagina and they started scrapping, meanwhile Astarion was now somehow in a tree outside drinking a goblet of wine (who knows where the fuck he got that from?) Watching them fight through the window and laughing, I'm stood there, not saying anything, just letting it play out yet again. Then SUDDENLY Astarion is behind me now, grabbing my shoulders asking if he could "borrow" some of my blood because he likes to mix blood with wine becuase it tastes nicer to him, Marvolo and Rowan are then suddenly sat on chairs, Marvolos smoking a cig, Rowan is now in wolf form, and they're watching Astarion trying to drain some of my blood with a fuckin dagger?!

So yeah, there you go.....Wild.

I'm fuckin howling 🤣🤣🤣

~

[she-likesorchids]

Reader going away on a trip or something and Mikey just missing them so much that he calls them to tell them all the filthy things he's gonna do when they get home only for them to be like "I am home." And then knock on the door 😏

Okay nonnie, okay.

Mikey and phone sex shenanigans below the cut. And a sinful gif to go with it.

Michael always missed you when you were away for work. He'd call you just to hear your voice, and he'd sleep with your pillow because your scent lingered on it, but it never compared to having you there.

You ended up getting done with your assignment early, so you decided to just head home and not tell him to surprise him. You were about 20 minutes away from his house when your phone rang, and you put it on speaker to keep your focus on the road.

"Hello, love," Michael said softly when you picked up.

"Mikey, darlin'. It's so good to hear your voice. I can't wait to be home."

The sound of your voice had Michael getting hard, and he palmed his cock over his boxer shorts as you told him about your day.

"Sounds like yer in the car. Ya driving somewhere?" he asked.

You laughed and replied, "Yeah just popped out for a bite to eat. What are you up to?"

"Are you alone?"

"Yeah, Mikey, I'm alone."

"Good, cause I miss ya so much, pet. Can't wait until your home so I can fuck ya instead of my hand. Gonna fuck ya real good when you get home."

"Oh, Michael. I miss ya too, can't wait to be home. Ya gonna be waiting for me naked?"

"I just might. We might not even make it to the bed. Might just throw you on the sofa and lick that sweet cunt of yours till ya tear a hole in the fabric. How does that sound, love?"

Your panties were starting to get wet with arousal, and you clenched your thighs together just thinking about how skilled he is with his tongue. How he knows just how to work you until you come undone over and over again, whether it be his tongue, his hand, or his cock.

"Mmmmmh. That sounds wonderful Mikey."

You finally arrived at his house, but you parked the car outside of the driveway so he wouldn't hear the door shut because he was still on the phone with you.

Michael reached in his boxers and took his cock in his hand, slowly stroking it to the sound of your voice.

"Too bad I have to wait until tomorrow. For now my hand will have to do."

"What if I told you that you wouldn't have to wait until tomorrow."

You could practically hear the puzzled look on Michael's face through the phone.

"Whaddya mean, pet?"

"Open the door Mikey, I'm home."

*runs away again*

[rachellegirl]

Do any of you remember in the Remnant Chronicles Kaden's father, Lord Roche, admitted to Rafe that he was involved in a plot to ambush the Dalbretch royal family and Lia on their way home to their kingdom after the wedding in order to stop the alliance from happening? This was in book three, The Beauty of Darkness, where Rafe was interrogating Lord Roche in the dungeons and beating him up for confessing that fact so Sven had to hold him back saying that it was enough. It was also stated that the traitors also planned to make the assassination seem like the work of Dalbretch bandits but when Lia fled the wedding this was foiled. If any of you do remember, I'm like contemplating a fanfiction where Lia never ran away from her wedding. And there'll be angst, forced proximity, and a slow burn instead.

There'll be the moment where she does see Rafe at the altar and they're both surprised of eachother. Like Rafe isn't the old wrinkly prince she thought he would be and Lia is different from Rafe's expectations of her. Then there is the tense wedding night where they don't do anything but sleep in one room together and an awkward breakfast the following morning with both royal families, Morrighan and Dalbreck. But of course in this alternate what if fanfiction, the traitors attempt to ambush the newlyweds does happen. It's bloody and scary, however, Lia piques Rafes interest after she defends herself with her epic knife skills against their assailants. Hooded assassins with their indentities concealed FYI. Oooh... and what if this is where she encounters Kaden instead. This is where Kaden gets angry that as the best assassin of Venda, he failed his mission. Then from that moment on he's got the princess of Morrighan on his mind.

Afterwards, when they do go to Dalbreck, Lia actually does have the time to bond with Rafe's mom since it was stated in canon that the Queen was sad when Lia ran away as she always wanted a daughter. Lia and Rafe would ABsoluTelY DespISe each other. LIKE REALLY HATE EACH OTHER. So enemies to lovers maybe? 😏 It'd make total sense because of how Morrighan and Dalbreck are rival kingdoms. There'll be like a little bit of Bridgerton vibes thrown in as Lia is introduced to court... like I got a WHOLE plot you can consider as an alternate time line or reality. You know there is gonna be some jealousy thrown in there right? Cause Rafe is hot and the Crown Prince of Dalbreck. Not to mention the only heir so ladies of the court have resentment for Lia. BUT it isn't one-sided cause Lia is fine as **** too and all the Dalbretch lords take notice of it. Remember how in canon Rafe's father told him everyone will look the other way if he took a mistress for a lover to placate him over the arranged marriage, and once he did meet Lia he thought he dodged a poisoned arrow when she fled their wedding day? How about when during a ball, Lia catches Rafe dancing with a noble lady who made her interest in her husband very clear so she storms off from the party and somehow in a whirlwind of events, Kaden kidnaps her to bring her to Venda. Rafe then becomes absolutely distraught. REALIZES that he is in fact very in love with Lia. Now he goes to find his wife and bring her home.

[theflyingfeeling]

"#no but seriously WHERE are all the BC in a shared flat in los angeles fics?? WHERE#i could come up with a plethora of plot ideas at command if that's what it takes!!"

can I have a plot idea? maybe the added pressure of "someone gave this to me" will make me actually write something for once ☠

Apart from all the Olli/Allu headcanons, here's a few I just came up with off the top of my head, with various ships:

Jetlagged Joel wandering to the kitchen in the middle of the night to find a snack, but instead he finds Niko (also jetlagged) and they end up having an emotional talk, reflecting on the past two years: everything that's changed in all of their lives, how far they've come as a band and how far they're still gonna go 🥺 The others find the two of them in the morning, having fallen asleep on the couch in each others arms 💕

The BC Cali house doesn't have a pool (they really wanted a pool, but then Tommi took a look at the BC bank account and told them they don't need one). However, upon arriving at their rented house for the first time, they immediately notice their next door neighbour has one 👀 Being antisocial Finns, none of them don't need to go for a swim that much that they would go and knock on the pool neighbour's door and politely invite themselves for a brisk dip (since they have come all the way from the far north where there's eternal winter and all the bodies of water are frozen at all times, and besides it would be far too dangerous with all the polar bears and killer seals), but then, on one of their morning walks around the block, they ran into their neigbour across the street (they stop to pet her dog), and they're told that the pool neighbour is on a vacation abroad and won't be coming home until after Christmas. 4/5 of them think nothing of it, but Aleksi's menacing brain is immediately intrigued 😏 later that day, when everyone else has already retreated to their bedrooms, Aleksi knocks on Joonas' door and asks him if he wants to do something crazy 🤭 and of course Joonas does, especially if it includes nudity 😌 up to you to decide how the story continues!💦

And let us not forget the classic: from the pictures they saw of the house, there was definitely supposed to be 5 beds. Joel had looked at the pictures many times, and clearly there were TWO rooms, one with three single beds (although one of them seems to be dwarf-sized), and another with a wider bed that Joel was SURE was just two single beds pushed together. Porko is happy to share (because of course he is), but Joel is determined to sleep in the living room, on the scruffy leather sofa that is very obviously way too small for him. After a few nights of stubbornly trying to make himself comfortable on the tiny (and sort of smelly) sofa, Joel finally gives in and joins Joonas and Mr. Pork (the pig plushie) in the master bedroom. Maybe waking up to Joonas playing with Joel's hair is not the worst fate after all...

Next I'm asking you to humour me a little and imagine they could afford a place with seperate bedrooms for everyone. And because Olli/Allu is the cutest ship that ever was, let's imagine them claiming bedrooms next to each other. And then imagine them just staying up in the other's bedroom talking about important stuff (the new songs, the cute dog they saw earlier when they went grocery shopping). And neither of them wanting the other to go to their own bedroom, but they're both too shy and insecure to suggest they share the bed, just for tonight. Olli loitering at the doorframe until he can't come up with anything new to say, and finally dragging himself to his bedroom, mentally kicking himself for being such a coward (Aleksi does the same after Olli has closen the door). Olli being about to turn off the bedside light when he hears a faint knock on the wall by his bed (the wall he shares with Allu). I'd ask you to imagine them coming up with a secret knocking code to communicate with each night after saying goodnight, but that would be way too cute and sappy, wouldn't it? 🥺 Not to mention Olli trying to figure out how to spell "I love you" with the knocking code 💕

To jump into a completely different kind of vibe with no transition whatsover: the house is great alright, but it appears the lock on the bathroom door is not working 🤔 This, however, they don't notice, until Olli - still half asleep - is about to go take a leak the first thing in the morning, and ends up walking in on Joel having is morning wank shower 😳 It's all kinda awkward for a moment, and Joel's climax enjoying-the-nice-hot-shower face (you know the one) is now imprinted on Olli's brain and he doesn't know what to do about it 😩 (somehow, walking in on people in the bathroom becomes his "things" during their stay (perhaps because he keeps forgetting about the malfunctioning lock after every nights' sleep); one morning he runs into Joonas blowing Niko under the shower 😐 another morning he catches a glimpse of that juicy Kaunisvesi peach 🍑👀 he's not a perv though, it just keeps happening! 😬)

[mickgaydolenz]

SO I JUST WROTE DOWN THE ENTIRE DREAM AND MY LAPTOP CRASHED AND DELETED IT HERES IT AGAIN

I was in an abusive home so I ran away and got a ride from a guy named bert to Louisiana because I wanted to go to texas and we made a stop at a gas station and I hung out with some kids around my age which were all brothers and they were listening to Hound Dog by Big Mama Thornton on the radio and when they asked me my name, I said I was Fritz, and if I was from the city because of my accent, and when I said yes they turned off their radio and began singing it for me, which they were really good 10/10 and also I'm pretty sure this was like the 40s/50s and stuff but I gave them a buck each and went back to the car with bert and he dropped me off in a town in Louisiana and I got a ride from a beatnik and we talked about elvis (I just watched the movie before going to bed so I'm sure my dream was heavily influenced by that) and how much we bothed liked his music then she and I sang a song by him together and she dropped me off at a hotel in texas but I wandered till I found a supply store and I asked every guy who went in and came out if they were looking for a farmhand because I was cheap and one guy said yes his name was Jameson Mills I think and he took me to his farm and it was so big and beautiful, and his wife and son were very nice, his son was almost old enough for college, and he always came to me when he needed help with his homework? I probably made it worse but by god was I trying. he was so nice and I'm pretty sure he was gay but I cant be sure, and one day while I was feeding the pigs he came over to me shouting that he got in, and we hugged and jumped up and down and at his celebration, THEY INVITED ME which was so nice and Mr. Mills told me that I'd get his room instead of sleeping in the barn and stuff because he'd be in college, which was nice because sleeping in the barn was dirty and cold so I was happy, and when he drove off for college a few days later Mr. Mills said to me, "Fritz, where're you from?" and I started panicking because I know I typed this fast but I was with these guys for like, three years, and I was juggling the possibility that they'll send me away if I told them the truth, but for some reason I said where I was from for realsies and he said "I thought so. you got a strong city accent." then went inside telling me to bring my stuff from the barn into his son's room. so I did, and every so often the son would visit and now I was sure he was gay because he told me he had a boyfriend and that he was very nice and wanted to meet me, which was awesome btw but I had to decline because Mr. Mills was old and couldn't hold the farm down and he said that I should hire a temporary one, and I said I'd think about it, I was probably like eighteen nineteen at this point, and Mr. Mills asked me if I was gonna try for college, I told him no, he said I should try, and I said I'd rather stay on the farm and stuff. then I went to bed after having a phone call with the son, and I woke up. in my world. Asia I panicked because the sun was up and I slept in. Asia I forgot wich world I was in. this is still so baffling to me

dude holy shit 👀. you lived a whole other life in one night raya, and what a cool, wholesome dream too. so now we just got to wait and see if this remains a dream or if it’s another prophecy 😏

[mlmxreader]

Hello to my lovely author! Hope all is well with you 🖤.

GG! Don't worry, I do get sleep, I'm just a raging insomniac but surprisingly, I usually get 8 hours of sleep every day, helps that I'm on summer holiday from uni at the moment. But when I woke up and saw the list of Hardy characters 😏😈 (too much power hath been given to me, hehe). When I get more time, I promise that I will definitely be spamming your inbox with prompts for that list!!

Okay, okay, okay (will mainly being using Alfie, because I love him and have devoured all the fics you have of him) **metaphorically cracks knuckles because IRL, I simply will NOT**

Now onto the praise you well damn deserve:

Characterization: Mr. Alfred Solomons comes through in each and every line uttered and not just in the dialogue you write for him but the mannerisms, his thought process, what leads him from one action to the next. It just is fully and undeniably the musings of that man. All his cheeky little comments and the nicknames: sunshine, treacle, love🫠🫠🫠. My fav interaction of all time:

"How you gonna court martial me, Captain Solomons?"

Gently, Alfie tugged you closer. "However the fuck you want me to, Sergeant Solomons."

Funny, cheeky and hot. The holy fucking (and FUCKING) trinity.

Also love when reader and Alfie are already a couple and how you write the mutual: if you fuck with them, I will rain holy fucking hell upon you. One of my fav lines to this effect comes from Protective:

"Alright," you sighed. "Alright, yeah... and for the record? You're my husband, and I'm not gonna fucking sit by and take it when people chat shit." Alfie laughed softly as he nodded slowly; he knew you would, just as you knew that he would do the same for you without hesitation. You were protective of each other, loyalty wasn't even a question so much as a given.

From Shock Troop (these two also have my whole ass heart):

"I know you don't like t'be reminded," he said softly. "But remember what I told you? I fuckin' told you, then an' there, that I ain't leavin' your side. Ever. And I'll always fuckin' stick up for you." 😫😫😍🫠

Your writing in general, the way to portray and set the scene (especially within The Wrong Side, Run Away With Me, and Eastern Front Chills) is exquisite. When reading the conditions Alfie and reader have to go through during the war, you are fully placed within that environment. And this also translates into understanding the motivations and mannerisms of the characters within the text. You do it so beautifully 😍, I simply cannot. The shaking hands, anxiety, guilt (whether survivors guilt, or from having to be forced to participate in a meaningless war), your work is just top tier. I cannot emphasis how much I absolutely love it!

Honourable mentions:

1. Soft!big tiddy Bane snuggling with his boyfriend instead of bashing the shit out of Sionis has my whole ass heart.

"Oh, little one," Bane tutted, shaking his head. Gently, he moved you onto your back, and pressed his forearms onto the bunk either side of your head so that you were terribly close to that mask of his, forced to look into his eyes. "Nothing is more important than you. I shall tell the Scarecrow that he can wait. If he's as eager to break the Bat as he seems, then he will."

Yeah, you can fucking lay on me like a bloody weighted blanket any fucking day, babe.

2. And of course jealous Alfie because that shit is just fucking hot, it's just non-fucking-negotiable. A fact of bloody life. I can fully understand why reader goads it along because bear man getting possessive the way he does, letting everyone know exactly who the fuck gets to touch and kiss up on reader like that is him and only HIM, holy hell Mr. Solomons 😏😏😏

Anyway, the gist: you're bloody lovely and so is your writing you absolutely amazing and beautiful man!!

Til next time 🖤🖤🖤!

🐍anon

I will admit: the first time I read this, I did tear up a little, so I just wanna, before I get into actually answering, just say thank you ever, EVER so much. you are an absolute angel, my mate, like, literally. you are an angel.

I'm glad you got some sleep, though!!! I really am, and I hope that you slept well 🫶🏻 the list is... it may or may not be complete, we'll see 👀👀 we shall see 👀👀 I gotta update my "official" list to include those characters but still. 👀 request to your heart's content, my friend. you know you're MORE than welcome to spam my inbox at any time, any day - the 19th will be a little tricky, bc that's when I get my tattoo, but other than that!!! I will be available lmfao I can promise you that much!!!

I know you love Alfie 😭 it brings me great joy to my heart to know that someone loves him as much as me ngl 😭🫶🏻

the praise just... thank you, so, so, so, so much. genuinely and sincerely, thank you. it means a lot to actually hear that people have picked up on the little things and I kinda wanna cry bc... just thank you!! 😭😭🫶🏻

of COURSE we had to include Mr Big Titty Bane himself!! dhfksjfkskgks where WOULD we be as a society if Christopher Nolan had told Tom Hardy to put a shirt on (probably a lot worse off tbh) but thank FUCK HE DIDN'T

jealous!Alfie just... yeah 😫 need him. bad.

anyway: thank you. really. I'm at a loss for words, really, but just know that my gratitude and my appreciation is at an all time high and I would both kill and die for you without hesitation.

I love you, please take care!! 🫶🏻