#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

[newkatzkafe2023]

Okay, Monkey Kings (and D.O) finding a giant box 🎁 in their bedroom. They open it to see reader wearing nothing but a ribbon wrapped around them like a gift, even covering up her private areas. 😏

Aren't you going to open your present?😉

(Lmk Wukong) (That is his face👆), and it was priceless, Seriously, he was expecting to get some cuddles and kisses in before he went to bed. You can imagine the confusion when he finds a large box in the middle of his room. Now imagine the shock of finding you naked as the day you were born covered in yellow ribbon. He knew you were a gift, but this is ridiculously hot🥵

(HIB Wukong) His whole body was red, like seriously you can see steam coming out his ears. He wad ready for bed after putting finally the kids to sleep, he went to find you to see if you were ready to sleep. Instead he finds a large box in the middle of his bedroom, and when he open it you popped out naked and covered in orange ribbon! Wukong just stood there mouth agape just staring at you, as you offered him a well deserved present. He never thought he would ever be this lucky😲

(MKR Wukong) Buffering so hard you think he was broken😬 the guy had a long stressful day already and when he finally gets some peace and quiet he finds this. Wukong gets an eyeful of you naked body covered in dark red ribbon, asking if he's gonna come open his present. Suddenly his day doesn't suck as much as it did before 😉

(NR Wukong) YO HIS BRAIN IMMEDIATELY CRASHED AND BURNED SO FAST, YOU THINK THE FIRE ALARM WAS GOING TO GO OFF!!!🤯 Wukong was looking for you because you told him you had a surprise for him. Now imagine his confusion and excitement just to find a large box in his bedroom, now imagine his nosebleed when he opened it. To find you nude covered in pink ribbons begging him to open the other present that is you, Wukong immediately jumped your bones that nice🤤

(Netflix Wukong) He has no idea on what to do in this situation, like you are so hot but deep down didn't think he would get far. Now here he is standing infront of you as you were covered in bright red ribbon, waiting for him to do something. Like his face is red mumbling rapidly as he tries to calm down and make sense of the situation, but right before you know it he'll be on you like white on rice😍

(BMW Wukong) Man's is fighting for his sanity and self-control, when he sees your hot naked body covered in Navy blue ribbon waiting for him to open you. He comes home from a battle, takes a shower and then fines a large box in the middle of his bedroom, of course at first he's confused and suspicious. Though the second he opens it that's where he finds a you in your current state. Well.....all I'm gonna say is that it's gonna be a loooonnnngggg night😘

(Destined one) Ohhhhhhhhhh nooooooooo for once your gonna have him, the calm, collected and disciplined Destined one acking all up!!!🫢 You just sat in that box looking all innocent, but at the same time sly sitting there naked in a bright blue ribbon. The Destined one would also have steam come out his ears and a mini nosebleed upon seeing you, and the fact that you totally trust him to see you so vulnerable in this state. He can feel the shame and remorse in the morning, right now he wants you bad and doesn't want to control himself anymore🥵🤤😣.

FEEL FREE TO REBLOG😚

[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. ───

[dreamwritesimagines]

Here I am, preparing myself for day 7 of Halloween and instead of thinking about today’s costume of choice, I give you entirely random filler HC:

Theo calls Sunshine for his nightly talk, and she’s like “bean, I’m sorry, I can’t stay on long, my phone is dying and the power went out.”

She’s been freaking because her battery is at like 20%, she walked in from work and it went dark in the middle of her shower, and to top it off, Julie borrowed her car and is out somewhere and Jamie and Nik are on vacation so she’s trying to get a hold of any of them just to be like “can I break into your house I’m freezing?”

Theo is bereft, his mother is going to freeze to death and here he is miles away from being able to cuddle her and keep each other warm; cue him RUNNING down every hall, finding Logan chilling doing whatever before he goes to hijack inspect Theo’s hall because he knows it’s about that time (that the love of his life calls her son and he gets to just hallucinate that he’s not an absolute coward who hasn’t asked her out yet). Theo comes in, full hysterics about “Mr. Logan, my mom doesn’t have power and she’s gonna have to hang up soon and then she’s gonna die alone in the cold.” While poor sunshine is having a fucking aneurysm on the other end.

“Bean, sweetie, it’s okay. No, don’t bother anyone I’m figuring it out, I will be fine, it’s not the first time I’ve had a power outage, please don’t tell-”

“Princess?”

“… oh. Oh hi, Logan.”

“Pack a bag, I’ll be there in 20.” And just hands the phone back to Theo, not an argument to be had as now he has to get his truck to rescue her because he’ll be fine on the bike, but she’ll just turn to a sunpop.

THIS IS SUCH A GOOD HC AAAAAAA IT'S AMAZIIIING! 😱❤️

Aw poor Sunshine, she would be trying to sound like everything is totally fine 🥺

Theo is bereft, his mother is going to freeze to death THEO SWEETHEART-

Logan chilling doing whatever before he goes to hijack inspect Theo’s hall because he knows it’s about that time (that the love of his life calls her son and he gets to just hallucinate that he’s not an absolute coward who hasn’t asked her out yet). Yet being the key word😏 He would definitely be like, "Yeah this is very similar to when we have a cabin in the woods with her and she's putting Theo to sleep" and like SIR YOU HAVEN'T ASKED HER OUT😂

And I cannot stop laughing at;

“Mr. Logan, my mom doesn’t have power and she’s gonna have to hang up soon and then she’s gonna die alone in the cold.”

Theo 🤝 Me

Our train of thoughts turning into a rollercoaster of paranoia when something goes slightly bad

I CAN JUST SEE SUNSHINE'S EXPRESSION ON THE OTHER LINE AS SHE HEARS THAT-

Logan to the rescue it's so romantiiiiic! ❤️

he’ll be fine on the bike, but she’ll just turn to a sunpop. Adsfghjkl😂

He will totally pick her up, and Sunshine would be like,

"You really didn't have to do this."

"Don't mention it."

"It's just that Nik and Jamie are on vacation, normally I would've stayed over at their place or Julie's but Julie is busy and- wait, where are we going?"

"To the institute."

"Is there an empty room there?"

"It's a huge mansion, I'm sure we can find one. Or you can stay in my room."

"...Huh?"

"While I-uh, while I'm staying somewhere else obviously."

"Oh. Oh right, yeah because I didn't assume- I wouldn't assume anything like that."

[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)

[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.

[puffyducks]

DCRC Week #27

Today we're reading PKNA #22: Fragments of Autumn and it's about to get CRAZY IN THIS BITCH!!! WHO UP FRAGMENTING THEY AUTUMN?!?!?

Ok so first of all shoutout to every single piece of cover art for this comic for being absolutely breathtaking. And also shoutout to Lyla for having eyes that get bigger and more haunting each time.

Uuh yeah she's gonna shoot the BAD GUY why the fuck did you jump in front of her 😭 Idiot

oh my god it's SLENDERMAN

Well he was a cop so 🤷‍♀️

friend and admirer 😏😏😏 (in a gay way)

OH NAW THEY SENT BABYGIRL TO THE UNITED NATIONS

I've said it before but I'll say it again: who the fuck calls into a meeting in this stance 😭 seriously is he sitting on the floor?

Oh GOD the Raider is rubbing off on him we're gonna have to put him down

Image that's relevant for 99% of conversation about Lyla Lay

NO HE ATE HERE!!! LEONARD, FUCKING KILL THAT GUY LIVE IN THE COURTROOM I BELIEVE IN YOU

So Odin is seen here in some type of hotel room with a bed in the background right? So my question is, does he actually use that? Can he sleep??? I mean Lyla said she has a sort of "sleep" mode where she has dreams, and Odin is technically more advanced than her so surely he needs to take breaks too right? These are incredibly important questions I need to know about his snoozer potential

Breaking and entering together, just like old times!!! ❤️

DID HE JUST CALL THEM CRACKERS

I like how much Donald is having fits of anger in this comic. Like yeah he's fucking everything up but it feels a lot closer to his usual character. Also I want him to kill.

"I'm going to do something Eidolon wouldn't approve of" YEAAHHH YEAH GO CRAZY GO STUPID

KILL HIM!!! KILL HIMMM THROW HIM OUT OF THE SHIP!!!! NOBODY WILL CARE IF HE DIES HE'S A POLITICIAN

Sorry maybe I shouldn't encourage PK every time he has violent fits but I think he should get to be a LITTLE homicidal. As a treat.

Soooo these panels are terrifying

Oh my GOD it was LEONARD VERTIGHEL ALL ALONG!!!!! (person who has totally not read this comic before and is definitely not pretending to be shocked)

"You don't know him" you shut your whore MOUTH. I mean not that Donald knows that he knows him well either BUT TECHNICALLY HE DOES.

Soooo instead of just making himself a robot wife that loved him from conception, he decided to make a bunch of pretty girl droid models, send them out in the world to develop their own personalities and memories, and THEN activate his secret little chip that would make them suddenly fall in love with him only AFTER they've become fully sentient beings with their own dreams and ambitions???........ EW

You just told us about your multi-year project to create someone to love you because none of the biological women met your "perfect" standards so... YEAH. You're an incel bro.

THE IMMENSE! THE UNIQUE! THE UNREACHABLE!!! A PRETTY GIRL IN A BIKINI WHO LOVES ME BACK

Odin please you can't just keep making vague references to your past with Donald I need them both to EXPLODE!!!!

Sooo that was Fragments of Autumn! (I'm not including anything here for the bonus comic cause I already hit the image limit, sorry to anyone that stans the Evron bonus comics or whatever.)

There was a LOT to soak in there between messages of love and autonomy and consent, but I mean HEYYY it sounds like Odin made some good deals for droid rights at the end there! So even if Lyla's big messy trial didn't amount to much, there's at least less of a chance that something like this will happen again in the future. Probably.

I'm sorry to Leonard Vertighel that he couldn't find the most perfectest woman ever to fall in love with him but also like, idk just get on Tinder or something bro. Go to the club.

I have a LOT of questions about Vertighel (specifically who this random fucking guy is and why Odin trusted him so much) but we're not ever gonna see him again in this series so for all intents and purposes we can just assume he burned to death in that lab fire. RIP bozo!!! Yes I know he's in PKNE but that's not relevant right now just let me have dreams

Coming up later this week: Crismus 🎄🎁🐻

[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 🤍

[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

< Prev //Next >

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

Main M.List "Hey 😏"M.List Navi

Dividers @/saradika

[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 🤣🤣🤣

~

[realfernmayo]

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*

[muddyorbsblr]

When I tell you I'm a grinning giggling mess over this story holy hell bestie this was outstanding! I'm absolutely in awe with how you crafted this smutty oneshot complete with backstory, I love them so much 🥹🥵

The relationship between Reader and Charlotte read like such close friends and having little to no boundaries and that's the kind of friendship that I'm so here for and I love how that almost immediately extended to Helen as well. And their conversation at the pool had me cackling especially Reader's inner monologue of "this building has a gigolo??" 🤣🤣 The dynamic felt so natural and read like you're just listening to friends casually gossiping about their best lay with their virgin bestie. The vibe? Immaculate…much like how Reader is at this point in the story 😏

And the way that she met Laing purely by coincidence and they ended up in their own little corner together in the party lost in their own conversation, like I love how cute that was 🥹 Especially with how she tried to stand up for him and when that didn't pan out she left instead to return the wine. I forever stand with women that choose to walk away when they know that they're amongst jerks especially when the people receiving the jerkish behavior did literally nothing wrong 😤😤

I fully believe Reader would be doing this to the jerkhole if she could 👏👏

Her burst of confidence just asking him out to dinner was such an amazing touch! Like she lost the filter between her brain and her mouth for a few seconds and it's a good thing she did because now she's got a date with a hot doctor 😈 And Helen talking her out of canceling by going "Look at him sunbathing and tell me you wanna cancel on the chance of riding that dick" is the biggest mood ever I will forever thank you for including that in this

That touch of him doing what the other women enjoyed and immediately correcting his mistake when he realized she wasn't for the adrenaline rush was honestly such a genius move. It's like he's done this so many times before with the other women in the building that he was going by an almost "one size fits all" (I could work a dick joke into that but I won't 🤣) approach and seeing her reaction threw him off for a second, but he recovered nicely with the dance 🥹

And the absolute mega chonker that is the smut scene holy fuckque bestie I had to stare at the wall every few paragraphs before I started screaming the building down at 7am 🥵🥵🥵 And this…this just absolutely ruined me:

“This exquisite and uninvaded. Untouched. Looks like I’ll have to end that…”

Like SIR?? I mean…DOCTOR??

And these two fully got dickmatized and pussy whipped in this scene and you can tell that even if they don't admit to themselves that they fell in love, they're well on their way there 🫠🫠

Especially with that adorable ending because now that she stayed the night, there's no way he's going to even think about being with anyone else…or letting her ever go to sleep alone 😏 I'm pretty sure he had a little "Can I keep you?" moment the second she fell asleep

This is definitely gonna be the subject of my thotty dreams this fine mornight. I loved this so much 💖💛

The Cure for Virginity

Robert Laing x fem! Reader Oneshot

Summary: Charlotte thinks you have been a virgin for too long. You should take advantage of a certain fellow tenant at the High-Rise, she says. The best amenity in the building- Doctor Robert Laing.

Word Count: 8K

Warnings: 18+, SMUT Y'ALL (First Time, p in v sex, vaginal fingering, Doctor kink, Virginity kink, dirty talk), Cursing, Mentions of drinking, and loss, Richard Wilder being a prick. But some moments of fluff and romance.

A/N: My first time (heh) ever writing for High-Rise! I hope you guys like it! Comments, Reblogs, Private Messages, and asks about my work are always appreciated!!

A03//My Ko-Fi//My Etsy Shop//Masterlist//Wattpad

Taglist: @jennyggggrrr @five-miles-over @fictive-sl0th @ladycamillewrites @villainousshakespeare @holdmytesseract @eleniblue @twhxhck @lokisgoodgirl @lovelysizzlingbluebird @raqnarokr @holymultiplefandomsbatman @michelleleewise @villainousshakespeare(I hope y'all don't mind me tagging away)

"You should be adding on the vows of poverty and obedience!"

“I’m not a nun, Charlotte!” you shot back.

“At this point, you might be!”

You huffed as you kicked your feet in the water of the pool. It was packed with people that afternoon. It was one of the new joys of the place. Even the janitors glided by to clean the floors with mops on their shoes as if they were skates, smiling.

You were getting to know the residents one by one. So far, you had befriended some of the women. Like sweet, quiet Helen with her soft brown hair and a baby bump that was overdue. Helen sat on a chair. She read a magazine as her kids played Marco Polo in the pool. And Charlotte- tall, slender, with dark hair and always a laugh in her smile. But now, the laugh was at you as she waded through the waters.

“Please shut up, we’re in a public space! There are kids everywhere! Can we discuss the sale on baked goods they have in the grocery store here instead?” you begged.

“They might as well learn! Gave Toby the Talk when he was five!” Charlotte shot back.

“Uh-Uhm- anyone watch any good shows on the television lately?” you then changed desperately.

Charlotte rolled her eyes. She shook the water from her ears, her beautiful black hair covered by a white swimming cap. She went up to the pool’s edge and folded her arms over it, resting her chin on them.

“This place has everything for you, Y/N- A grocery store, a spa, a school, a gym, and even a sex life if you want…” she continued.

You splashed the water on her face, and she laughed as she held her arms up in defense.

“But the thing is…I know someone for you. Someone more than able to take care of it…” Charlotte began.

“I’m pretty sure any average penis can do the job! And why do you care so much? It’s a personal choice about my body- none of your beeswax!” you retorted.

She raised one of her eyebrows as she swam to you.

“Not even oral?” she asked.

She would not be silenced by a refusal. You leaned in.

“No!” you whispered.

She pulled herself to the edge. Water splashed as she emerged to sit on the edge next to you.

“Y/N, I have a tip for you- two words!” she said.

She held up a fist and uncurled two fingers with the first and last names.

“Robert Laing.”

“Oh my god, you’re setting me up?” you sighed.

She shrugged.

“Why not? His tongue reached places I never thought it could!” she recalled.

Your jaw dropped.

“Are you seriously setting me up with your boyfriend?!” you cried, leaning forward.

“No! He’s not…” she answered.

“So, he’s your ex…you’re setting me up with your ex!?” you questioned.

“It was a fling- long over now. We’ve moved on. But we’re on good terms! All the women love him for a reason- he’s incredible! You’re going to lose it once, Sister Y/N, it might as well be someone who knows how to do the job. Listen to me-“

She pointed up to the above floors.

“Men have the brothel. Women have Laing.”

She flipped her legs up and walked over to the chairs.

“What do you think, Helen?!” she prodded.

You looked over to see Helen as she reclined on the pool chair. She tipped her lovely face from her magazine.

“Of Robert Laing?” she asked.

“Yeah-in bed!” Charlotte asked.

“Incredible! Nothing like it!!” Helen agreed.

Are you kidding me? Oh god- this place has a gigolo! you thought.

You forced your jaw to shut. High-Rise life wasn’t like normal life. It was a culture shock for you. Here, any proper rules about what was good or bad were out the window. People lived as they wanted and did what they wanted. There was no consequence. Each night, in the middle of the Twentieth floor, you could hear giggles and laughter. You passed people groaning and screaming with sex from their rooms. If not in the halls. The loud music from the constant partying was everywhere the second it was dark. You even heard housewives discussing what drugs they inhaled as they carried brown grocery bags.

“He’s a Shy boy. At First. But if you're alone with him in a bedroom…well, it’s a different man. But it’s not so intense that your first time with him would be too much. Unless you want to try anal,” Charlotte informed you.

You shot a look at Charlotte. Kids ran around the pool and tried to cartwheel into the water by you.

But Helen nodded and smiled. She spoke with the cherubic cheerfulness of a Disney princess.

“Oh yes, even anal with Robert is fantastic!” ❀⊱┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄⊰❀

Besides, you had more pressing matters. There was a party that Royal’s wife, Ann, invited you to. A full 18th-century style ball complete with costumes! And what luck that she had costumes in your size available to rent!

Your gown was a lighter color- a creamy white, right in a shade that flattered you. Every guest was dressed in white or cream in their Rococo attire, like you. Your stays loosened now that they adjusted to your body. There were peals and beading on the bodice. Your large skirt swished as you moved, enjoying a fresh glass of champagne in hand.

You went by to try and make small talk when you felt something hit your skirt and on the ground. It was a bottle of wine. Fallen to the floor. A baritone voice behind you muttered “shit!”

Your stays prevented you from slouching, you squatted down to get it. You saw a long, elegant hand also reach for it. You looked up to see a young man who was not in 18th-century wear but a modern suit. In the black jacket and pants. He stuck out like a sore thumb against all the white of the guests.

But Holy Crap he was gorgeous. Bright blue eyes, a soft crop of hair a color between blonde and red, and his suit held a tall, lean frame.

“Oh- I’m so sorry! Did I get your dress?” he asked.

You both got up. Your stomach flipping, you felt self-conscious. The cut of the gown and the stays were better than any push-up bra. It was bumping up your cleavage. You felt his eyes flutter down there and then jolt back up. Your hands clasped and you brought them up to your neck in both surprise and a surge of modesty.

“No, you didn’t at all!” you insisted.

You glanced at the bottle of Riesling he had- you liked that flavor. You enjoyed getting it from many an evening at the grocery store. Especially when your bank account was low. It was affordable, crisp, and delicious.

“What’s your name?” he asked.

You gave him your name. He reached his hand with a smile.

“I’m Laing. Doctor Robert Laing.”

Doctor Robert Laing? That Doctor Laing?! The gigolo!? That was who the ladies were discussing?! You thought.

You stared at him, adrenaline coursing through you.

“Oh! Doctor Laing! I heard of you,” you replied out loud.

You didn’t need to tell him the context though. You offered your hand and offered it for him to shake.

“Good things, I hope!” he added with a wink that made your heart stop.

He accepted your hand, his hands felt ice cold, but soft.

“And how do you know Royal? He wouldn’t invite you if you didn’t know him,” Robert asked.

“Not well. I do see his wife around. Got to chat with her. We wound up getting along. She invited me here. She insisted I go out and get to know the people here…moved in two weeks ago,” you explained.

“Guess I’m still new here too-Month and a half!” Robert chatted.

“What room?” you asked.

“2505,” he answered.

You got to about talking where you came from as he began to light a limp cigarette, puffing at it lightly. He was very polite. His eyes were on you, listening more than talking. You discussed what you thought of the High-Rise. If you have been to the spa yet. Who you met. You then discussed the music playing at the party. You told him the orchestra was playing ABBA. One of your favorite bands!

“Y/N, that glass is already empty- could I fetch you another drink?” he offered.

“Sure thing!”

Right as Robert turned to get your drink, a burly, bearded man in costume blocked him.

“Hey there, dickhead- this is a themed party!” he declared.

Robert Laing could hardly say a word before the brute half-picked him up, dragging him off. He held onto the Doctor’s collar like a cat carrying a kitten. Guests seeing him pass by snickered at Robert’s modern attire. But you followed.

“Hey! Put him down! He didn’t do anything!” you tried to protest.

You beat your fists at Jerkass’s arm, but he swiped you away. He ignored you as he grabbed the wine bottle from Robert’s hand. He tossed the handsome doctor into the elevator roughly. Then pushed the button for it to close.

The Doctor locked eyes with you as the doors slid shut and he vanished. His face looked sad and scared. Far from the swaggering sex maniac you heard of. “Cheap bastard” the Jerkass cursed at the bottle before tossing it on the white fur rug.

Royal’s dog, a white German Shepherd with a bow tie, approached the bottle to sniff it. You bent your knees and picked it up. Yes, it was a cheap brand. But it tasted good. And Robert was trying to be a good guest.

You hid the bottle behind your back until you snuck into the bedroom. The bed was piled with the coats and purses of the guests. You planted it in your large purse by the pillows amongst everyone’s things. Then you turned back to enjoy the party. After an hour, you left, saying you had work early tomorrow. You got your purse and punched the lift to the Twenty-Fifth Floor.

You went to room 2505 and knocked. Robert opened, bewildered. A strand of his hair had flown out and he lacked his jacket. Not that it detracted his looks, not at all.

“Here- your wine,” you offered.

You pulled the bottle from your purse and handed it to him.

“Thank you, Y/N,” he answered.

“Are you okay-You look like you’ve been in a fight!” you asked.

He let out a deep sigh, pressing a hand to his head.

“No- lift broke for a bit,” he explained.

“Oh, that’s miserable! As if being kicked out wasn’t bad enough!” you commented.

He looked down at the bottle. He turned to put it on a chair and then returned to you, leaning closer against the doorframe.

“You seemed to be happy there. I’m sorry I had to make you leave,” he apologized.

“It’s alright. I came to wear this costume. Nothing more.” you added, giving the skirt a swish with your hand.

He leaned a little closer.

“You do look beautiful in it,” he complimented.

Lightning struck you. The edges of your vision had stars and you tried to even process if what you heard was real. He took a step aside, gesturing to his flat.

“But that wine…it’s not as good to drink alone. How about…how about we split it?” he offered.

You froze where you were. Your breath stopped, becoming a lump in the middle of your throat. Your hands turned sweaty.

“I don’t have any food in my stomach for that much booze…” you answered.

His eyebrows lowered, yet there was an honesty in his eyes. Even innocence. No guile to have his way with you. Not like Helen’s husband, Wilder. Wilder would charge at you. Making offers of his bed or the nearest surface. Not caring when you said no. You’d slap him and flee before he could grab you.

The soft way Robert looked at you suddenly made you panic with regret. The words flew out of you like a burp.

“Serve it with dinner and I’ll call it a deal!” you blurted.

Shit, Shit, shit, what the fuck was I thinking? you thought.

Your pulse raced. That was too forward, too bold. But then he nodded.

“Alright. I’ll make it. You don’t have to provide a thing.”

Time stopped. You could hardly believe it.

“Then it’s settled. Are you free tomorrow?” you asked.

“Yes,” Robert confirmed.

“What time?” you asked.

“Let’s say Seven.”

“It’s done. I’ll see you tomorrow at seven.”

He smiled at you.

“I look forward to it,” he answered.

You said your goodbyes. The second you got back to your flat, you threw yourself onto the couch in a pile of white silk of your dress. You put a pillow to your face and screamed into it, kicking your legs in giddy joy. Your maturity level descending.

A date! A date! I have a date! I asked a hot guy out! And he said yes!!!! Oh my god, oh my god, how am I even going to sleep tonight??? ❀⊱┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄⊰❀

The next day, you were out of coffee and bread and headed down to the grocery store. But who should also be there, wheeling a cart, but Helen. She waved at you, gesturing to you to come near her.

“What’s up, Y/N- there’s a look on your face! Was Royal’s fun?” she asked.

“Helen-I met Laing last night,” you reported.

She gasped and then smiled.

“See- lovely fellow! And a looker too, isn’t he?” she teased.

You looked down at your hands on the grocery cart with a smile that confirmed- Yes, he was handsome. Helen kept giggling, a blush on her cheeks. Then you returned up at her, an idea making you frown.

“And are you sure he’s available? I don’t want to make some poor woman miserable, even by accident!” you asked.

“Yes- not committed to anybody…he’s been around. But no attachments. If there was, I’d know!” she confirmed.

Your carts paused in the cereal aisle. You took a deep breath.

“I’m having dinner with him tonight” you announced.

“What! That’s wonderful! You did the work for us!” she chirruped, clapping her hands together.

“What do you mean ‘work’?” you prodded.

“Charlotte and I had a chat, and we had a plan- we were going to set you up with him. I’d go to you and tell you everything about him. Charlotte would go to Robert’s and sing every bit of your praises. Then you’d both agree to meet up or exchange phone numbers!”

You gave a smile and shrugged.

“Thank you-I appreciate the thought! But I’m able to find my own men and set up my own dates of course!” you replied.

You pushed your carts to a corner to talk. You then explained how you met him and the party. Returning the wine bottle and everything.

“He’s even going to cook- isn’t that thoughtful?!” she commented.

“I’m just nervous about it. Dates make me nervous,” you confided.

“Don’t worry, you’ll be fine,” Helen comforted.

A lady passed by with sunglasses over her eyes and a bold shade of lipstick. Passerby’s from the aisles asked for her autograph. She half-smiled and signed notepads with a flourish. The dog in her cart leaned his nose close at them to get a whiff, wagging his tail.

“Think of this- you’ll have a lovely dinner at minimum. And at maximum- you won’t be walking when I see you tomorrow,” she reasoned, raising a hand to rub her pregnant belly.

You felt your entire face get hot with embarrassment.

“I’m not the type to kiss on the first date, much less shag! It’s only a dinner-not a wedding night! But I’ll let you know how it goes. So don’t get your hopes up! And Helen, And that goes for Charlotte too! I know you’ll tell her!” you insisted.

Both of you wheeled your carts to get in the long line for the cashier.

“But I still have to…impress him,” you blubbered. Could you even live up to the other women here?

Helen rubbed your back, “If he didn’t like you, he’d say no. Y/N, you know he’s nice! Just wear your best dress-that should make you feel confident!”

You let out a deep exhale. Your carts moved forward in the line.

“Part of me is tempted to cancel. Save myself the embarrassment. Or the heartbreak,” you confessed.

Helen leaned into you.

“Charlotte says he sunbathes in the afternoons. Naked. Get to her place and look down if you want a peek at what to look forward to. That might convince you to go forward.” ❀⊱┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄⊰❀

Holy shit, this can’t be real. I can’t be doing this, you thought.

Your heart was racing, your finger shaking as you pressed the button to go to the Twenty-Fifth floor. Up it went, up, up, up. You could chicken out and run away, but no- that was being a coward. Didn’t you want this in the first place? Hell, you were the one who flat-out asked him!

What if it all went wrong? What if then he hated you? What if you hated him? Yes, he was incredibly handsome but handsome men could be total pricks. Wilder was as handsome as they come. But the man was a slimy, creepy rat bastard you wanted to shove off the highest balcony. If only Helen would divorce his sorry ass by now. She didn’t deserve him. But what if Wilder was a sweet guy back then? What if when Helen began dating him, he wasn’t like that? People change. What if Robert seemed okay at first and then turned into an asshole who broke your heart or hurt you? What then?

But all that was for later. Now was now.

It’s a free dinner, at least you thought remembering Helen’s words.

Taking a deep breath, the elevator dinged, and you stepped out to the hall.

You checked a hand mirror in your pocket to make sure your makeup was right, and that there weren’t any noticeable stains in your teeth. Your dress was blush pink, showing your shoulders and snug on your body with a flared skirt. Pink, how ironic- that mix of innocent white and passionate red. You had jewelry and earrings complete with heels. The heating broke throughout for a few hours, and you wore a coat over your dress from the chill of the building.

There it was, checking the notepad you had in your pocket and then double-checking, it was the right room- 2505. You entered, took a deep breath, and knocked on the door.

You knocked on the door and saw him. Your body froze at the sight of him. If this was real. If he was real. He was in a white dress shirt with a grey jacket and black tie. So simple, but so becoming. His eyes were soft when they looked at you, like the gaze of a doe. This couldn’t be the wild sex maniac the women of the High-Rise gossiped about. The man they went to for sex as they went to the spa for massages. Or was he?

“Hello, Robert….” You greeted.

He opened it.

“Please…come in…can I take your coat?”

“Yes…”

You sucked in the air when you felt him behind you, his hands raised up. Taking your coat. They were gentle as they brushed against your shoulders. You felt his eyes drink you in from behind. Seeing your dress. Seeing the outline of your body. But you did not raise an arm or hand to cover yourself, you let him look. He walked over and put the coat over a hook on the wall.

“Welcome, Y/N. You look lovely again. Make yourself at home,” he greeted with a smile.

Your chest fluttered as you mumbled a “thank you.”

You noticed the room- one wall had a tiny square of grey paint on it. But the other walls were tall and brown with rectangular columns- sleek and modern. A few boxes were in the back. There was a photo pinned to one wall of him in a casual shirt smiling and hugging a young woman. You thought you glimpsed a bed in one corner and promptly turned your head away to ignore it. Near the dinner table was a sliding glass door to a balcony like every house as the sun had finally set and it darkened to nighttime. The room was lit a little low- not garishly bright. But not too dark.

You saw him in his lovely suit and his tie. You smiled at him.

“Thank you so much, Robert. The place looks wonderful,” you complimented.

He gallantly pulled out the chair at the table for you. You made a smile too big for your face and your stomach fluttered. Robert made his way to the other end. There was the Riesling along with a small salad bowl and a meal.

“Well, what brought you here?” you asked.

Robert’s hand froze, fork in mid-air.

“It was my…my sister,” he answered.

“She invited you?”

“No, she died…” he replied.

This man at the party held himself like a demigod, a touch of the divine within him. But at the mention of his sister, here you were with the mortal half.

“Oh, Robert…that’s awful…” you said.

He began to blink. He then reached into his pocket, lit a cigarette with shaking hands, and began to smoke. His hands were still shaking after a several puffs with the cigarette. You saw a tear in the duct of his eye. You got up, went to your coat pockets, retrieved tissues, and hurried over to give him one.

“Here…here…” you said.

You heard sniffs. You then handed him a glass of water from the kitchen, and he began to gulp it up. His eyes were puffy with quiet tears. He then glanced at the photo.

“We were close. And she was the nicest, most genuine person you could imagine. She had a full life…but not a long one…” he continued.

“Robert, that’s still a tragedy…and you should grieve how you want….” You comforted, leaning closer to him.

Looking down at your hands, you saw they fidgeted. Glancing around the room, you wondered if now the right time was to even have this dinner. You retreated two steps from him.

“Do you need some space? I can go back to-”

“No! No- please! Please stay…” Robert pleaded, leaning forward in his chair, a hand up to stop you.

“Alright, I will.”

You returned to the chair and sat down.

“Sometimes, I’m over her. I think I’ve stopped crying…then it hits me…I’m sorry, Y/N, you weren’t expecting a crying mess….” He confided.

“I’m pretty sure losing a beloved sibling would make any person into a crying mess…” you reasoned.

He then looked at the dinner…

“We should start. The food might get cold,” he reasoned.

You sat down and began with the rolls in a basket on the table.

“So, tell me…tell me more about your job! I know you’re a doctor,” you queried.

“Well, I’m a physiologist. And a professor…” he said.

As he dug into the salad, his shoulders began to lower. His lips curled to a small smile as he looked at you.

“Not just a medical doctor? That’s impressive. That requires lots of studying to get approved!” you praised, nodding your head.

“I teach physiology to medical students in training. How to do autopsies. One poor chap flat out fainted once in the middle last month.”

“Well, can’t blame him! I see too much gore in a horror movie, and I have to cover my eyes!” you commented.

“It’s the human body! It’s fascinating!” he said, gesticulating with his hands.

He grinned wider and set the cigarette on an ashtray on the table. The salad and main course and side dishes vanished. Time passed easily talking to him. One topic you discussed excitedly so much that you had to freeze your hands from knocking over the Riesling bottle placed next to you. He lit a new one, and began to absent-mindedly smoke, but kept his eyes on you. You sipped on your glass and realized he had finished this.

“Oh, the bottle…it’s on the other side,” he commented.

“Here, let me bring it over. Would you like me to pour it for you?” you offered.

“Yes…”

You went over and poured the glass. He picked up the cigarette, the smoke curling up to twist and melt into the air. Then he looked at you with reverence above him. It was a nice picture. Domestic even. Your gaze met his and you pulled up the wine bottle before you could overflow his glass by accident.

Feminism was leaving your mind like filtering sand each second you laid eyes on him. Could you see yourself as his wife already? Was it too soon?

You could see yourself waking up next to him. Fixing him coffee in the morning. Adjusting his tie before he went to work, asking for him to tell you every bit of it as you gave him a demure kiss on the cheek. When it came to the time, he would be back home, you’d dress up with lipstick, skirts, pearls, and perfume just like now. You would have dinner prepared on the table or a hot bath too for good measure. He would enter and greet you with one of the smiles that made you flutter and a deeper kiss than that in the morning. You would pour him a drink when he came in. He’d praise the dinner but then look at you. Saying he’d rather devour you. Then pick you up. Carry you to the kitchen countertop. Shove away the leftover ingredients. He’d make hickeys across your pearl-draped neck. Then he'd push you to lie down on it. He’d lift your skirt, drop his pants and fuck you senselessly on the countertop until….

The footsteps of people out in the hall snapped you back. You felt your entire body clench, arousal already soaking your panties. A pit in your stomach with the food. You made yourself swallow the fantasy out. That was for later. You had to be present. Your body felt hot like it had a fever. Returning to your seat, you poured yourself another sip of Riesling. Grateful that he chilled it. Robert turned his head to the outside balcony, gesturing to it.

“Ah- look outside! It’s beautiful tonight! Sometimes I can hear the crickets…or see the stars,” he suggested.

The two of you went out to the balcony and looked up and out. You saw some stars, whatever wasn’t blocked by the fog of London nearby. Crickets chirruped from below. Both of you admired it for a few minutes.

He turned to you, flicking his cigarette off the end. It was like a tiny, red star before blinking into nothing. As if it dissolved into the night air before hitting the pavement.

“Y/N, thank you for earlier…and for returning the bottle…” he said with a smile.

“You’re welcome. They were dicks to you. And it’s a good wine. And thanks for opening up about your sister-I think there are half-off roses at the store. I’ll send some to you in her honor, just tell me a color…” you offered.

“I should be the one getting you flowers. I had work and had to cook the food- ran out of time,” he explained.

“Well, I’m not the one who needs it!” you quipped.

He chuckled warmly. You realized he was leaning closer. And you could pick up his scent- cigarette smoke and cologne mixed up in the drink that was Doctor Robert Laing. His eyes hypnotized you. His face, smooth and handsome, transfixed you. You felt his hands on your waist. You felt him lifting you up, sitting you down on hard brick and mortar. But your gaze never left his. You looked down and he up.

“Robert, I…” you began.

But the words stopped. Your thoughts stopped.

His eyes went to your lips. Then he touched your cheek. That cold, soft hand. He began to lean forward.

Oh God, Oh god, oh god, ShitFuckShitFuck, it was about to happen! You thought in a thrilled panic.

Before you could close your eyes and seal the kiss, you felt a gust of cold wind on your back. You were so transfixed by him that you didn’t register where he put you. Blinking and then turning around, you saw he had set you to sit on the balcony. Right over the twenty-five floors below to the hard concrete. A push of his arms and you were a goner.

You let out a scream.

You wrapped your arms around him. You clung onto him like a koala and buried your face into his neck.

“Robert! Please!” you cried.

You could feel his smile, but he wrapped his arms around you. His hands were on your back, supporting you, keeping you safe.

“Okay- it’s okay, I got you,” he assured.

“Take me off- now!” you insisted.

He wrapped his arms around you, picking you up like you were as light as a toy doll and setting you down. He wiped his hands on his sides.

“I’m so sorry. Some of the women liked that. I should have asked,” he apologized.

“It’s okay-you got me off!” you assured him.

“Here, I know what’ll make you feel better. I brought my records with me…would you like to hear one?” he asked.

You nodded. He brought out a box. There was such a wide variety that he collected. He insisted on not sticking religiously to one genre. Good music was good music. He offered you your choice of albums. You selected one of the old-school crooners from the fifties. He set it on and began to play it. The album started as you both sat there, listening. The music melting your adrenaline from the balcony. You turned and felt him look at you. He then offered an open hand.

“Can we…can we dance?” he offered.

“Yes.”

You felt him pull you up. You felt him take one hand in your other and you felt him reach an arm around your waist to your back. You both moved. It wasn’t as much dancing as it was gentle swaying. But he was so graceful, so soothing you didn’t care.

“Robert, why did you say yes to dinner?” you asked.

“I’ve been lonely here, Y/N. I wanted company. And after that party, I wanted your company…you made this lonely man feel a little less lonely in this place here.” he explained.

The crooner’s voice went up to end the song and a new one began.

“Your hands…they’re cold. Doctor’s hands are always cold,” you commented.

“Then here,” he offered.

Robert put one hand to his face, letting out an exhale. on the palm. Then he rubbed it on his pants. The friction creating more heat. Then he grasped your hand again.

“No cold hands, no?” he asked.

“Much better,” you nodded.

“Y/N, would you like to learn something medical?” he asked, continuing to sway with you.

“Yes.”

“You can feel the pulse in various places in the body, yes, but that includes your stomach. And that’s for a certain kind of pulse- PMI. Point of Maximum Impulse,” he explained.

“Where is it on me?” you asked.

“Well, can I touch you with my cold doctor's hands?” he quipped.

“Yes,” you answered with a giggle.

He lowered his hand to press the flesh gently beneath your left breast, and between rib bones. You inhaled sharply at his touch.

“There. That’s the PMI- one of the strongest beats from your heart. You can guess certain heart diseases feeling it,” he taught.

“And what can you tell about my pulse, Doctor Laing?” you asked.

His cheeks became pink at the word.

“That it’s…it’s racing…very fast.”

“And why does the heartbeat race? You’re the expert,” you teased.

“Anxiety or danger… but also excitement…”

“What about yours? How is your pulse?” you asked.

“Here…why don’t you tell me yourself…” he offered, smiling back.

You lifted your hand from his and placed it on the left side of his chest, over his grey jacket. You could feel it starting to race.

“It’s going fast too…” he whispered.

“From anxiety, danger…or excitement…”

“Yes…”

Robert then leaned forward, his nose grazing yours. An inch before, almost seeking permission. You gazed at each other’s eyes and then lips.

And finally, they touched sealing into a kiss. You felt him press you tight- an embrace you would never want him to release from. He held onto you. The music swelled- it was now a romantic ballad. He let go.

“I had a good night tonight,” Robert told you.

“I did too…”

His hand dropped to touch the side of your face. He kissed more and more. He pushed his tongue in, and you made a noise at the feel. Only to kiss him more. You felt his hand on your lower back press you closer. Your hips were connecting. Arousal soaked you down below. But even more this time. This time it was real. The friction made you chilled, hypnotized. Nothing, no one else mattered- except him.

“I…I don’t want it to end now….” He confessed.

He kissed you, but then you realized he had guided you right into the column before the kitchen, and he was pawing at your clothes, looking for the zipper in your back. Your mind then went blank in surprise.

“Robert- wait! Please, wait!” you pleaded breathily, putting a hand on his chest to stop.

He paused. His arms fell. A strand of hair was loose and his lips were bright pink.

“Did the ladies tell you about me?” you asked.

“No,” he reported.

“I know you’re experienced but I never…never did this before, Robert…” you explained.

“Oh...alright…” he nodded.

No comments. No words of lack of surprise nor total surprise. No laughter and no judgment. No teasing. He only accepted it as a fact, like the earth was round.

“I’m sorry. I got carried away. I got excited. I like you, Y/N. I like you a lot- but I’ll stop,” He apologized.

He took a few steps back.

Yet the look of him made you light-headed with lust. All yours if only for this night. The raving reviews of the women taunted your mind. And the creeping, slivering desire you felt for Robert Laing overwhelmed you. You realized you didn’t want to call it a night and return home. It was the first step of a steep hike. The view from above would be worth each nerve-wracking step. And that he felt for you…

Your heart was racing out of control. Your head was clear despite the wine, the pooling in your body was urging at you, telling you. It's time. You're ready. And you know it. You want this. You want him.

“I told you to wait… not to stop. Not completely. I trust you. I want this. And I want it to be you…” you directed.

“Are you absolutely sure?” he asked.

“Yes,” you replied, stepping forward.

You slide a hand behind his head, through his hair. He kissed you further, deeper. You moaned into it.

“The bed. If it’s the first time, you need the bed…” he whispered.

You would let him have you anywhere, but you still smiled. He led you over there to that bed. He laid you down.

“Look at you in that dress, it made me want to ruin you the minute you came in,” he growled.

He kissed you hard and passionately. You sighed into it. Some gentle pressure from his push and you laid down on the bed. He laid on top of you and you felt his weight. It wasn’t to crush you, but just enough that it was like an embrace. You felt a gasp from your lips as he undid his tie and tossed it to the side. His hands raised your skirt. He grinned seeing the nicest lace underwear you had selected. Already visibly stained by how wet you were.

“Here…I’ll make you ready even more, darling…” he said.

He crept a finger down the hem. He then looked up.

“Can I?” he asked.

“Yes, you can…” you nodded.

You let out a gasp feeling his finger inside you. He moved it around and you shuddered. A gasp that stopped in your throat as he stretched you out, felt your walls, getting deeper. He explored you and you had to get used to it- the newness, the intrusion. But you didn’t want him out yet. He licked his lips as he curled it up, eliciting a small moan from you. You felt him move up your folds and then finding your clit. As he began to circle it, you splayed a hand over his back and grabbed onto his jacket. A shuddering sound escaped you. The man was fully clothed but you were already a mess for him. You began to writhe as he circled it more, in response, a groan came out of you.

“There?” he asked.

“There!” you confirmed in a gasp.

“More, my dear-more?” he asked.

“Yes…then keep them- oh!” you cried, interrupted as he put in a second finger.

You felt your own legs open wider for space. He found the right spot, and you began whimpering. Neck arching and close your eyes to keep feeling it. Then he removed it, wiping the juices on your thigh. You felt cold, and empty without them in you. But that was only the first stage; preparation.

“Can’t believe I’m your first. First to touch you. First to ruin you. First to fuck you. I don’t want any man after to compare to me,” he boasted.

Your fingers began to grip the sheets to steady yourself. Both of you tossed away your shoes.

He unzipped the back of your dress. You pulled him forward, kissing him again, but moving to the lobe of his ear, his neck. He removed your dress. He took off your stockings, kissing your stomach as it glided over and letting it float down to the floor. You were in a bra and underwear. You raised a hand to cup his cheek. Despite the shakiness in your hands and your own brain racing through the fog of arousal, fear, and thrill. You pulled him in to kiss him again, not caring that your teeth clank. He wrapped an arm around you, and you felt the warmth right on your skin.

“We have some walls to test here. I want you to be screaming for the neighbors to complain,” he voiced, taking off his jacket to toss on the floor.

You half sat up and helped him to undo the buttons of his white dress shirt. With a smooth movement, he removed his pants. You saw the erect outline through his white underwear. You felt your eyes widen as you saw him. Tanned and ripped, clear muscles, strong biceps, and a wide chest and shoulders. He smiled proudly as you sat there ogling him.

“Like what you see?” he asked.

“Yes,” you said.

“That’s good. I like what I see too. There’s just one thing that could be better,” he said.

He went back to kiss you and felt one hand reach to your bra strap in the back. Both of you forgot about the enforced chill of the apartments. You had the fire of bare skin on bare skin. He paused and looked down at your exposed breasts with a smile. He raised his hand, grazing a thumb over your nipple. You shivered from it.

“This exquisite and uninvaded. Untouched. Looks like I’ll have to end that…” he mumbled.

He wrapped his arms around you to pull you back down, and you peppered kisses all over his jaw and his neck. You even found his earlobe and pecked it. You felt his own hardness press on you as well as his leg. A thin line of cloth on both of you. Nothing more, nothing less. Keeping your bodies from joining. Ache. Need. You felt him against you. Your hips rocked to his and Laing let out a groan. He teased his hardness against your clothed entrance.

“And you know the procedure, Doctor?” you teased with a heated giggle.

“I know it well if you want it,” he replied, his breath hot against you.

“Yes, please…I need you to fuck me,” you mewled, arching your shoulders back, tits splaying.

You never heard this tone in your voice. Wanton. Downright pornographic. But here it was.

You felt his own hips against yours and a shudder between you both. Then he crawled up, and you felt his hardness outline on your stomach. He looked at you.

“Then, keep laying supine…and keep calling me Doctor…” he requested.

He kissed one breast, eliciting a moan from you. He moved on to the other. Your arms reached down until your fingers traced his shoulders. You found his hair and combed all ten of your fingers through it. He moved down to kiss your hip bone. His own hands went up, tracing the side of your leg.

You felt his long fingers splaying over your hip bones and the hem. He was slow- as if enjoying feeling every inch of you. Curling around the hem, he pulled the panties down your thighs. He put them through your knees, through your calves, and off. As if this was a ceremony. Your heart drummed further, your head spinning as he looked down on you. He looked at you bare. His eyes kept between your legs, licking your lips at the sight of your sex.

He removed his underwear and kicked it away. He was already dripping small pearls. You swallowed a gasp. He was monstrous…not that you had any before to compare it to. He returned to hover over you. He pried your legs open with his hands, warm from his breath but also the touch of your skin. You felt your own hips arch forward for him.

You glanced over to the side, seeing the night. It was dark against the soft lights of the apartment. The sky was clear. Stars finally outshone the city smog. A beautiful, peaceful night indeed. A perfect night to lose your innocence to Laing.

He then tipped a finger beneath your chin, moving you to face him.

“I want to see you, I want to look in your eyes when I’m the first one to fuck you, the first to enter you. I want you to look at me,” he rasped.

“Yes, Doctor.”

Looking right into his eyes, you opened your shaking legs. He sank into you. Bit by bit. Inch by inch. Moans coming out of you. Then he moved his hips and let it all in.

You let out one little cry when he was fully inside. You felt his own heartbeat over you, his skin, and his moan right next to your ear. Your walls adjusted to him. You felt yourself clutch onto his back. He panted right next to you. He kept his eyes on you. Knowing how special this moment was. He finally claimed you. Nothing else would change that now in the future. Robert Laing was the first to enter you. The first to show you sinful bliss.

Then he pulled his hips back. You sighed at the feeling of the coldness from lack of him, and he brought it back with a sloppy thrust.

Your breath hitched when finally, he was inside. You felt his own heartbeat over you, his skin, and a moan right next to your ear. Your walls adjusted to him. You felt yourself clutch onto his back. Then he pulled his hips back. You sighed at the feeling of the coldness from lack of him, and he brought it back with a sloppy thrust.

“There…there’s a good girl…like that…” he rasped.

He thrust into you again, and again. A voice flew out of you, a voice you never knew you had. He began to pick up only slightly. You gasped- you liked this.

“Yes! Yes, yes! Doctor-fuck- yes!!” you hissed.

You tilted your head back, eyes closing to enjoy the sensation when he cupped your jaw and pulled it down. You opened your jaw as he traced a finger over your lips.

“Remember-eyes on me….” He panted.

You let his face meet yours. His lips grazed yours in an open kiss. He even took his forehead and pressed yours against it. You felt his breath hot against you.

“Angel, can you…can you take more?” he asked.

You nodded, your hands reaching to that strong back and digging your nails in. He responded by snapping his hips right into you, such a hard pull you felt the invasion arrange your insides.

“Doctor!” you cried out.

It was the sweetest invasion, the pinprick of pain that brought pleasure. He picked up the speed. His own groans from his pink lips serenade your whorish moans. Then more.

“Fuck, you’re-you’re tight. Shit-shit- taking me so well, there- there’s- fuck!-my good girl,” he whimpered as he picked up the pace.

You felt yourself get dizzy. Your hands around, reaching his hair and raking your nails deeper onto his back. He had found the right spot, your hips meeting his, but angling- deeper, with the speed increasing. You were sliding against the bed, yet you weren’t stopping him. He then took your lower thighs and lifted them, he reached the upper angle, near your clit. He was getting rougher.

“Doctor-Yes-oh, Jesus- Yes-yes!” you were yelling.

His thrusts were wilder. Faster. He grunted and groaned, eyes down on you. Here was the passionate man the women raved about. The desk next to the bed was shifting around with how deeply, quickly, and powerfully he was fucking you. And the bed itself was denting against the wall.

Something was bubbling inside you. Building up. He was cursing, then crying out your name. Something was building in you. Like you were going to break if you let it grow. Like you would die. But you wanted to. at the sound as he slammed you, hips slamming into yours as he kept up the fast rhythm. All as he looked you in the eye and you in his eyes. Then he put a finger in your slit and curled it on your nub.

The pleasure was rising. More moans came out of you. Not quiet ones. Bubbling up wilder as he stroked you there. About to spin out of control. You weren’t going to last.

“D-Doctor- I think I’m- I think I’m going to-“

“Cum-darling-cum, cum with me!” He was yelling as well, meeting your volume.

It built higher, higher, until-

You let out a last, loud cry.

The spinning pleasure snapped in you. You took in a slight gasp as the shockwaves of your peak. You felt him give a last shout of your name as he came too. He was pulsing inside you, and you felt yourself shake, an ache in your own pussy and legs. The record had stopped playing and there was only the white noise of the vents above you. The heat had come back on. Not that you or Robert needed it.

You fell together, feeling the eclipse of your shared high. You saw the ceiling spin above you. Slowly arriving back to. The apartment reeked of sex, of your bodies, of sweat, and the heat of passion. He pulled out of you; you could hear his own quick breaths. Trying to catch his own. Your entire body was heavy from your climax, craving sleep.

“Are you okay?” he asked, touching a hand to your shoulder.

“I’m…I’m tired…tired and wonderful,” you replied.

He smiled.

“I’m glad then…” he said.

You nestled close and wrapped an arm around him. Good night, you couldn’t have asked for a better hour.

“Robert, Thank you. I’m glad it was with you…” you complimented.

“So, I take that you liked it?” he quipped.

“I loved it- Doctor,” you answered with a giggle.

As you nestled closer to him, he laughed back with you. The laughter made his body under your arms jilt up and down. The sound rumbled and echoed through your skin. There was something pure about it. Sweet.

He let go. But it felt too soon. You wanted to hold him for longer. Cuddle him. Kiss him on the cheek and forehead. Call him every pet name under the sun. You leaned on your side and traced the outline of his cheek down to his shoulder. He blinked and watched your hands, unused to the intimacy. Then he shifted closer to lay on his side parallel to you. You wrapped your arms around each other.

“Can I stay?” you proposed.

His eyes went wide. His jaw went slack. Then he nodded.

“Yes- Y/n, please! I never had anyone stay over the night…” he confessed.

Your eyebrows shut up.

“You’re kidding!” you gasped.

Comparing you to his ex-lovers on a first date wasn’t a wise choice for a man. But there was a sadness in his voice. It made you halt. It made you listen.

“They’d take me. And then they’d leave. Not say a word when I passed them at the store. Like I was no different than their plumber…”

You traced a finger over his bare chest. Drawing figures as he beamed down at you.

“Then I’ll stay…but I might need my toothbrush tomorrow. My breath will stink if you kiss me in the morning,” you reminded him.

“I’ll brave it then,” he responded.

He leaned in to kiss you. Both of you settled in closer. Never letting go of the other. Discussing everything. Discussing nothing. Your exhaustion from your orgasm won over and you both melted into a peaceful sleep, there in room 2505.

[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.