#like as someone who has only been in the only fandom for a year-18 months

[jeonscatalyst]

You can say whatever you want to say about Jimin but one thing thunder will strike you down for saying is that Jimin EVER had anything handed to him, because that man had to work for every single thing he has or has become and he started working from the day he set his foot into Bighit!

While others never had to bother about their positions in the group, Jimin was the only one who constantly had to go to bed worrying because he didn’t know if he was going to have a job there the next day, while others freely got vocal lessons, Jimin was the one who had to sit at the corner and learn by listening to Taehyung and Jungkook during their vocal lessons, lessons he was deprived of getting. While others didn’t care if they left or not, Jimin was determined to stay to fulfil his dreams and bear in mind that he was only a 17 year old boy who left all he knew and loved to go to a city he had never been to before to bunk with complete strangers. Bear in mind that this 17 year old had to deal with school, 18 hour long practice sessions, threats of being fired because Bang PD thought he was “incomplete”, bear in mind that this 17 year old boy had to deal with body shaming, bear in mind that this 17 year old boy usually went to bed at 4am and woke up by 6:30am to get ready for school and was still a good and deligent student.

This 17 year old boy had to deal with body shaming so much that till this day he still has a complex about his looks and body and won’t even let himself eat sometimes because he wants “sharp looks”.

Bear in mind that person who is called the “company’s fave” and accused of sleeping with producers and the CEO to gain favors is the one who was denied the opportunity to have a visual album. He is the one who continuously gets ridiculed by articles calling his success “partial”, he is the one whose father and family the company allows Kmedia to write the most disgusting articles about. He is the one who left the comfort of his home to go squat with Pdogg for 10 months to work on Two albums and while doing all these, the fandom called him lazy and said he wasn’t interested in being a solo artist even though he took part in writing his own songs for his album. If this is how a company treats their favourite, I don’t want to know how they treat their least favourite.

Jimin does nothing, says nothing, minds his business, shows love to EVERYONE around him, keeps away from social media as much as possible yet he is the one who keeps getting targeted by EVERYONE! Other members don’t perform as “good” as their fans hoped they would, Jimin gets hate even though he is the one who makes sure to be there for all his members. All solos of other members have a hate boner for Jimin just because they didn’t expect him to succeed as much as he is currently doing since this fandom had placed him at 3rd most popular and saw him as the least likely to succeed in solo work just because he didn’t walk around singing about his plans to anyone who cared to listen.

He is constantly the punching bag of shippers, solos, kpoppies, gossip blogs and even kmedia yet you wouldn’t even believe that this is a man we only get to see once in a blue moon.

He is the member every single other member has spoken about when it comes to how hardworking and focused and determined he is about his work yet people call him privileged just because he is breaking records no one thought he would. In all my years of life, rarely have I seen someone so unproblematic get hated on so damn much just because he was underestimated and choose to prove people wrong!

He is doomed when he does, doomed when he doesn’t. If he mentioned by other members (especially Jk) he gets hate, if he isn’t mentioned, he gets hate. If he mentions other members he gets hate, he doesn’t mention other members he gets hate. People constantly drag him into things that have NOTHING to do with him.

Taehyung makes a decision as an adult (which he has every right to) to have a girlfriend and go on a stroll with her, gets photographed, yet Jimin is hated on for a decision another 29 year old man made for his own happiness and life because tell me why tkkrs and Tae solos are calling Jimin names because Taehyung decided to have a girlfriend?

We discover that the company has been aware of the hate brewing within Jimin and Jungkook fandoms and how the fandom is building resentment towards Jimin’s fans and by extension Jimin and they are not doing anything to curb the hate yet Jimin is the one who gets dragged? What did this poor boy even do? What did he ever do to anyone to deserve this? Is the gossip just not sweet enough unless he is added in the mix? What business does a bicycle have at a gas station?

My heart has been so broken reading all the nasty things that have been said about Jimin this past few days and I would have understood if he actually had a hand in any of this or if there was any proof that he did but what makes me beyond mad is that everything for antis is pure conjecture! They have taken parts of documents they were privy to and had purposely twisted everything, ignoring context, showing their lack of reading comprehension skills or maybe actually understanding what the docs really say but choosing to drag Jimin for things he had no control over. I don’t know if they need someone to blame and the only one fitting is Jimin since they don’t want to actually confront the real issues because what do you mean “how could his so called soul mate sit down and watch him get used as a shield for others dating lives”? What control does Jimin have over who Taehyung keeps in his life and who he doesn’t? What control does Jimin have over the decisions he makes? What control does Jimin have over what the company does and says to or about other members?

People feel so comfortable sitting on the internet causing immeasurable pain and hurt to people just because they are famous without realizing that karma is one bad bitch! Jimin who has never in his life had anything handed to him and has always had to work extra hard for everything he got is being accused of being favoured by the company? Funniest thing I have heard in my life. As I said before, say anything about Jimin but don’t ever call him privileged!

Because I believe in the power of retribution and in karma, I’ll sit back and wait for these people to eat their words. Karma sometimes takes it time but it ALWAYS arrives to those who deserve it.

EDIT: I had to go through this post and do some editing (taking out some stuff) because I noticed that while I didn’t intend to sound bitter or like I am comparing Jimin to other members, my words may have come off that way to some who pointed it out to me. I got defensive at first because I didn’t understand why anyone would see it that way but after going through the post again, I saw how my words could have come off. I realized that we are all sensitive because of the things people constantly say about the boys so I needed to be more careful with how I worded stuff so I didn’t repeat antis rhetorics.

This is meant to be a support post for Jimin and I want it to be seen only as that and nothing more. I don’t tolerate any hate or shade towards any of the members on my blog so I don’t want to give anyone the impression that this is a safe space for any kind of hate towards anyone (unless it’s a toxic taekooker or solo then we can drag them by their eyelashes)

💜

[angryschnauzer]

Click - A Twisters Oneshot

Summary; As a storm photographer you know all the chasers, so when you run into two old familiar faces - where you have history with both - it proves to be a stormy night.

Fandoms: Twisters Movie, Glen Powell, Anthony Ramos.

Pairing: Tyler Owens x Female Reader x Javier (Javi) - MFM threesome.

Warnings: NSFW, 18+, Smut, Alcohol, Drug Use (Weed/Pot), Fingering, Oral Sex (Female recieving), Oral Sex (Blowjob), unprotected Vaginal Sex, Spitroast, Double Penetration, Double Vaginal Penetration, Spanking, Hair pulling, choking/air play, spitting in mouth, creampie, no discussion of consent, implied consent, impared judgment. Please don't do this in real life unless able to give consent.

I do not run a tag list, instead please follow @angryschnauzerwrites and put that blog onto notifications, and you'll get an alert when i post new stories. Masterlist is available through my pinned post.

Authors notes; This is my first time writing for almost 18 months after severe writers block, and a whole load of truly horrible shit that has gone on in real life for me. Seeing Twisters has reinvigorated my passion for writing and it feels good to be able to be creative again.

Glen Powell Masterlist

Click

The bar was loud and smokey, country music in the background that could be heard between gaps in conversation or the crack of pool balls being split as another new game started. The air was filled with a heady mix of liquor and petrichor, rain imminent from what had been a frustratingly humid day.

Storm chasing was fun. The rush of adrenaline when the radar picked up those telltale colours on the satellite, but for the past 72 hours there’d been a whole lot of nothing on screen. Blue skies were pretty and all, but much like the atmosphere outside, there was a tension in the air that was only growing thicker by the minute. As a photographer you weren’t affiliated with any particular team of chasers, but with your skill renowned in the industry you could pretty much tag along with anyone you liked.

The sound of a scuffle across the bar drew your attention, the shrill ring of beer bottles knocking to the floor, the tell tale sign that tempers were fraying in the turgid atmosphere. Rolling your eyes and sighing you grabbed your beer and decided to stroll outside, not wanting to get caught up in an impending bar fight.

The air outside was a little cooler, a breeze having picked up, the scent of rain hanging thick in the atmosphere. Wandering the wide wrap-around porch of the bar you saw a familiar sight, smiling at the silhouette of an old friend, dark curls atop his head moving as he spoke with passion to another familiar face.

It was Tyler that spotted you first, nudging Javi who turned before a grin spread across his face;

“Well look who it is, our very own Click”

Laughing at your old nickname; one given where you’d had the habit of favouring traditional film cameras rather than digital, the sound of manual lens shutters is one that earned you the affectionate title.

You approached the pair, grinning as Javi swept you into a firm hug, one hand cradling the back of your head with the other arm tightly wrapped around your back as he lifted and span you, before setting you down on your feet again;

“It's been too long” he said with a grin before pressing a brief kiss to your cheek.

You’d spent almost a month with Javi a year or so back when he’d still been in the corporate side of Chasing, getting paid well where you’d been able to get some amazing images Storm Par could use on their marketing material and website.

The sound of a brief cough as someone cleared their throat behind you had you turning and meeting a wide smile;

“Tyler”

“Was wondering if you remembered me”

He pulled you into a hug, before pressing a gentle kiss to your earlobe, sending a shiver down your spine.

“It's hard to forget someone who still hasn’t paid their invoice”

A flush of embarrassment tinted his cheeks as he pulled back, bashfully raking his hand through his hair;

“Shit”

“Hey hey” Javi cut in; “This dude owes you money?” he asked you.

“You know that awesome header image he’s got on the youtube channel? One of mine” you looked at Tyler who very much seemed like he wanted the earth to swallow him whole at that very moment; “All Chasers get the same terms; credit or payment. Its not credited, so he got sent an invoice and it’s still not paid”

Tyler reached out for your hand, pressing a kiss to your knuckles;

“I absolutely promise I’ll get it paid. And we’ll credit you too, we get so many comments from that image alone”

At that moment there was a ruckus as a small crowd of people came up the stairs from the street, calling out and greeting Tyler and Javi. It soon became clear it was the rest of their team. Most made a beeline for Tyler, to which you and Javi stepped aside and started to talk;

“So remind me again how you ended up going from Corporate Insurance Chaser to Hillbilly Youtube Chaser?”

He laughed, his eyes sparkling;

“You remember Kate? She kinda managed to convince everyone to be in it for the science, rather than the money or the glory”

“Well i never would of had you and Tyler Owens teaming up on my betting card for sure”

Javi laughed;

“Tyler’s awesome. He knows his stuff. And he’s loud enough to be in front of the camera to keep the audience entertained enough to let the rest of us actually do the science part. We work great as a team.”

Looking around you realised the team were a few people short;

“Where’s everyone else?”

“Up in Kansas City doing a presentation for the Mayor and Senators, hoping to get cooperation with some early warning systems we want to help provide the data for”

Nodding you sipped your beer as the pair of you settled into familiar conversation, the rest of Tyler’s crew welcoming you and soon the minutes passed into hours. Beers were replenished and Whiskey shots started to appear, before the tell tale scent of pot floated on the air. Sweet and cloying, you could tell it was leaf rather than resin, realising the joint was being passed around Tyler and Javi’s crew before someone slipped it into Javi’s hand. He grinned as he took a deep toke of the joint, holding it in before slowly exhaling, holding it out to you before you shook your head;

“I’ve got a better idea” you smirked; “Take another toke”.

A smile tugged at the corner of Javi’s mouth as he inhaled deeply from the joint again, the embers on the end glowing a deep amber red. He nodded and you quickly stood close, cupping your hands around his mouth as you pressed your own mouth to your hands and inhaled as he exhaled.

The buzz immediately hit you as the weed hit your oxygen starved brain, swaying on your feet before Javi wrapped an arm around your waist and pulled you close;

“Steady… let it flow through you, it’ll be strong”

Grinning and giggling softly you swayed on your feet, safe in Javi’s arms before finally regaining your balance.

“Ok, my turn now” Javi handed you the joint and you inhaled deeply, filling your lungs with smoke before nodding. He quickly stepped forwards, cupping his hands around your mouth and repeating what you had done, only this time he was close enough that you could feel his open lips against yours. Staring into those intense hazel eyes you could sense a hint of mischief, before he stepped back as he held in his breath. Finally exhaling he too swayed on his feet and you reached out to steady him, both now giggling.

“What are you two up to?” An amused voice asked.

Turning just as Tyler slipped the joint from your fingers, he inhaled deeply as he looked between you and Javi.

“Hotboxing” you replied with a grin.

Tyler wrinkled his brow before exhaling the smoke, moving his lips to form three perfect smoke rings before blowing the rest straight up through the middle of them;

“Hotboxing? I thought that was when you dropped a silent fart in a packed elevator?”

“Not where we’re from. Its when you inhale someones toke as they exhale, the lack of oxygen means the weed hit is more intense”

Tyler grinned;

“Okay, don’t believe that but i’m game”

He handed you the joint back and you inhaled again, before doing what he’d seen you and Javi do with your hands as he cupped your mouth and you exhaled. His eyes went wide as he held it, before stumbling a step backwards. He let the smoke out in a shaky exhale, his hands moving to your hips to steady himself. Overcompensating he then swayed forwards, pushing against you and into Javi, the railing of the porch catching him as you were sandwiched between the two men.

The three of you were in fits of giggles, the pot going to your brains before you finally managed to steady yourselves.

“Jesus christ on a bike” Tyler exclaimed; “That was intense”

“I can’t believe you’ve never done that before Dude” Javi laughed, turning to take a fresh round of beers from Boone, his goggles sat atop his head.

Boone signed like an old mother hen, before taking the joint from your hand that you had all but forgotten was still there;

“Ok i’ll have that back, thank you”

Giggling into your beers, you sipped on the drink, comfortable and content between two old friends.

It wasn’t long before the simmering tempers inside the bar bubbled over and spilled out onto the porch, the bar owner yelling that he’s shutting for the night and all the ‘damn Chasers’ could ‘fuck off home’.

Knowing when your welcome had run out the three of you drained your beers before stepping off the porch and down to the sidewalk.

“C’mon, we got a bottle of whiskey back at the motel” Javi wrapped an arm around your shoulders as you walked side by side.

“I’ll think you’ll find that's my whiskey, '' Tyler commented.

“Sharing is caring Tyler” you retorted back, met by his megawatt grin;

“Oh i don’t mind sharing”

At that moment you felt the first few droplets of warm summer rain to hit your skin, looking up as the clouds above finally relinquished their heavy load;

“What motel you guys at?”

“The Rodeo Econo Lodge, it's a couple’a blocks down”

“Sounds glamorous” you commented.

“Been staying there since my rodeo days” Tyler explained; “It’s clean, cheap, and the beds are comfortable”

“And they had enough vacancies so we didn’t have to squeeze four to a room” Javi added.

“Hang on, are you two roomies?”

Tyler nodded;

“Apparently we both ‘snore’”, which he waved his fingers in the air to emphasise quotation marks; “So the rest of the crew unanimously decided we had to bunk together from now on”

“Thus the whiskey” Javi added; “It helps me sleep through Tyler’s talking in his sleep”

“Says the guy that whines like a Golden Retriever in his”

You were by now laughing your ass off whilst getting soaked to the skin in the rain, chilled and relaxed before your mind caught up with half a thought you’d had a few moments ago;

“So you used to ride in the Rodeo?”

“Uh-huh, before college”

“Were you any good?”

Tyler smirked;

“Taught me some good life skills and how to ride hard when you got someone bucking beneath you”

By now you had reached the motel, Javi leading the way up the external staircase as you followed with Tyler bringing up the rear;

“Is that so?”

You felt the playful spank to your rump just as you reached the top of the staircase, quickly followed by Tyler wrapping his arms around you and his mouth against your ear;

“Play your cards right Click and you betcha”

Javi hadn’t been paying much attention, instead having to concentrate on keeping his hand steady enough to get the key in the door of their room, calling out in triumph as it swung open and he stepped into the dark room. As you and Tyler followed into the darkness you could hear Javi muttering about trying to find the lamp, but in that moment you had been spun around and Tyler's lips had found yours.

The kiss was hot and sloppy, his hands on your rib cage pushing your soaked shirt up your torso. His tongue pushed into your mouth and you tasted beer and whiskey in his embrace.

“What the fuck guys?”

You hadn’t noticed Javi had found the lightswitch, but he had obviously not been expecting to see Tyler getting to do what he’d wanted to do for a while. Before the situation could go south you pulled away from Tyler and closed the distance between Javi and yourself, wrapping your hands around the back of his neck to entwine your fingers in the soft curls at his nape, and you pulled him into a long awaited embrace.

You felt him tense, before softening into the kiss, his fingers gripping your hips as he pressed your bodies together and you could feel his need growing from the hardness pressing against your abdomen. When you finally broke the kiss to gasp for air, you smirked at him;

“I thought you said you two worked great as a team?”

You heard two quiet ‘oh’s , before a warmth pressed against your back as Tyler joined the pair of you.

“Fucking hell Click, you’ve no idea how hot that sounds”

Javi pulled you back in for another fierce kiss, this time his hands roaming the front of your body, pulling your shirt up and grunting his appreciation when he found your breasts to be free of a bra. Palming them in his warm hands his thumbs rubbed over your pebbled nipples, sending a wave of arousal straight to your core. At the same time Tyler’s hands found your hips, his long fingers pressing into your flesh as his soft lips found that sweet spot on the side of your neck just below your ear. He pressed his hips to your ass, rutting against you and you could feel his arousal insistently pressing against you.

As Javi’s lips left yours to press a trail of open mouthed kisses down your neck, he pulled away to give himself room to bend down and take one of your breasts into his mouth, that skilled tongue teasing your nipple before moving to the other. Tyler took the chance to cup your jaw and turn your head, kissing you with a clash of tongue and teeth.

Whilst Tyler had you occupied you hadn’t realised Javi had gotten to his knees in front of you until you felt his nimble fingers opening your jeans and tugging them down your thighs. Looking down you saw his eyes darken beneath his lashes before he pressed a kiss to your mound through your panties. As you held his gaze you felt Tyler rest his chin on your shoulder as his arms wrapped around your body. One hand cupped your breast as the other he held up and swirled two fingers in the air - the Chaser sign for tornado - to which you watched as Javi’s grin widened and he nodded as he did the same. But this time you knew those finger swirls meant something else.

You held your breath as Javi wrapped his fingers around the elastic of your underwear, pulling the soaked scrap of fabric down your thighs before he pressed his mouth to your slit. His tongue pressed through your folds before he found your clit, his fingers stroking your juices around the tight entrance between your thighs. He finally slid two fingers into your tight channel, the pleasure coursing through you as you rested your head back against Tylers wide shoulder.

Reaching your arms behind you, your palms welcoming the warmth of Tyler’s denim clad thighs beneath your hands, stretching a little further until you were able to cup him through the soft well worn denim. You wanted to feel more, more of their hands, their lips, their dicks, but felt restricted by your bunched clothing;

“I need to be naked” you gasped out, causing both men to pause their ministrations. They worked quickly together, Javi pulling your boots off before tugging your jeans and panties off in one, as Tyler yanked your shirt over your head.

Standing naked before these two men you started to paw at their clothing, pushing shirts off of shoulders and tugging white t-shirts from their pants. If ever there was a time where you wanted four arms it was that moment, desperate to feel their skin against your own. Whilst Tyler got caught up unbuttoning his shirt you made quick work of the button and zipper of Javi's pants, sliding your hand beneath the fabric of his underwear to wrap your fingers around his thick shaft. He gasped at your firm touch, wrapping his hand around the back of your neck before pulling you into a fierce kiss.

When you pulled away you glanced at Tyler who had pulled his boots off and was naked to the waist, his sculpted torso that of a marble statue. The metal clink of his belt buckle prompted you to move to him, unzipping him and sliding your hand inside the denim and beneath the dark jersey of his boxer shorts. Long and patterned with ridged veins, he was as hard as a rock in your palm, a soft whimper escaping his lips as you pumped his uncut dick.

He let his jeans and underwear fall to his ankles, cupping the back of your neck as you bent at the waist to take him into your mouth. Wrapping one fist around his girth you steadied yourself placing your other hand on his firm thigh, lowering your mouth to his tip to taste the bead of precum that pooled there. Pressing a chaste kiss to the smooth crown you opened your jaw to take him into your mouth, unaware your pussy was about to be stuffed. The firm push as Javi speared your hot channel pushed you forwards, forcing Tyler’s dick into your throat.

“Mmmmfffmfmmff!”

“A little warning next time huh Javi?” Tyler commented as he pulled back to allow air to actually reach your lungs; “but good god woman, your throat is a thing of wonder… no gag reflex”

You heard the sound of a high five but were too lust drunk to worry about it, too busy flying on a wave of pleasure as you were spit roasted between two hard cocks.

Tyler reached beneath you to cup your tits, grasping them as he moved his hips to fuck your mouth, a mixture of spit and precum running down your chin. At the same time Javi reached around your hip and searched out your clit, rubbing firm circles with two fingers against the sensitive nub whilst he fucked his thick cock into your dripping pussy.

Your orgasm caught you by surprise, your body shaking as you moaned around a mouthful of flesh. Your knees were close to giving out when Javi pulled out and brought you upright, his arms wrapped around your torso;

“Steady Click, don’t need you racing ahead off the radar for this” he kissed your neck whilst you reached out for Tyler. Stepping out of his jeans he closed the gap between you before sliding his hand between your legs, pushing two fingers into your soaked pussy;

“Such a lovely pussy, can’t wait to see it dripping with our cum. Gonna fill you to the brim. Do you want that?” his mouth brushed against yours as he spoke, but you could do little but pant like a bitch in heat.

You nodded, your mouth hanging open.

“Bed, now” Javi instructed, nodding for Tyler to lay down. You whined at the loss of Tyler’s fingers filling you but instead were treated to his tight ass as he crossed the room before laying on the bed.

“Come’ere Darlin. Climb on, i’ll teach you how to ride a bucking bronco”

Javi gave you a little push, almost the encouragement you needed to leave his arms. Climbing onto the bed you straddled Tyler’s thighs before crawling up his body. As you bent down to kiss him you heard the crack of the seal on a bottle of liquor, turning your head and seeing Javi drink straight from the bottle as he approached the bed.

As Javi climbed onto the bed, Tyler lifted your hips with one hand, steadying his cock with the other as he lined himself up before letting you sink down a couple of inches onto him. Javi straddled Tyler’s legs behind you, wrapping his arms around you before lifting the bottle to your lips. As you dipped your head back to drink from the bottle you felt his hand firmly on your shoulder, pushing you down to take Tyler to the hilt.

The whiskey hit the back of your throat and the rush was intense, the feeling of being filled by Tyler almost overloading your senses as he bucked like a steer beneath you. Javi breathed hot in your ear, his body pressed to your back. He took a large slug of whiskey before you pulled the bottle from his hand, taking another mouthful before leaning forwards. Tyler anticipated what you were doing;

“Yeah baby, spit it in my mouth” before opening wide to allow you to let the warm whiskey drip from your tongue to his. As soon as he swallowed you leant forwards and kissed him, sloppy with tongues and teeth, and you felt his cock slip out of you, landing wet and sticky on his abdomen. You weren’t empty for more than five seconds before you felt Javi push into you from behind, his palm coming down on your ass with a loud smack.

Riding you hard you were pressed between the two men, Javi filling you from behind as Tyler lay beneath you, his dripping shaft rubbing against your pussy as you were pushed back and forth. After what seemed to be an endless few minutes your arms were pulled behind your back as Javi held your wrists at the base of your spine. His lips on your earlobe;

“Get ready for the real rodeo”

With your attention on Javi you had lost sight of Tyler before you felt him angle his cock towards your already stuffed hole, as Javi seemingly lowered the pair of you until Tyler managed to slide in alongside him in your now overstuffed cunt.

“Such a good girl”

“Taking us so well”

Their praises merged into one as your eyelids fluttered shut, rocking your hips gently as your body grew accustomed to being double stuffed. As your arousal flowed from you your movements increased to the point both men were able to alternate thrusts, making sure there was never a moment when you weren’t full of cock. They filled and defiled your body until you were flying on an arousal high. Javi’s grip on your wrists faltered, your hands slipping free. As Javi pushed you down and Tyler fucked up into you, you curled one hand over your shoulder as Javi bit at your neck, curling your fingers through his dark curls. Glancing down at Tyler his normally pale green irises dark with arousal. He stretched his neck and you watched as the muscles shifted, his adams apple bobbed up and down. You rested your palm on his chest and he immediately wrapped his fingers around your wrist, nodding as he pulled your hand to his throat.

Realising that both your boys liked a little pain, you tugged on Javi’s hair as your fingers closed softly against Tyler’s throat, dual groans filling the room as they both thrust harder into you, pushing you ever closer to your release. Tyler grabbed your hips and started to pull you down harder onto him, Javi cupping your tits firmly as he fucked you harder from behind.

You were the first to cum, screaming out your release as if you were howling to the moon, Javi and Tyler following just seconds behind filling you with two thick loads of their creamy seed.

Releasing both men from your grasp you softly rested on Tyler’s chest as Javi pressed gentle kisses to your shoulders, before the latter pulled out. You felt a flood of cum seep from your stretched hole, soaking down to Tyler’s balls and onto the bed.

Some time later you were clean and showered, the three of you having squeezed into the tub and washed the sweat, whiskey, and cum from your bodies, before Tyler had discovered the bottle of whiskey discarded on his bed now half empty where the cap hadn’t been replaced. He had started to protest until you had slipped your hand into his and led him to the other bed - where Javi was already beneath the covers - and had silently confirmed you wanted to be close to both of them for the night.

Facing Javi whilst being the little spoon to Tylers big spoon, you sleepily said goodnight and muttered about finding your ride for the next storm.

“You should ride with us” Javi stated softly.

Letting out a quiet laugh you shook your head;

“You two combined? You drive like madmen, i’m scared of riding with you!”

Tyler pressed his lips to your ear;

“Well you know what I say…”

“If you fear it, ride it” they said in unison.

“And you’ve already ridden us both, so you’ve got nothing to fear” Tyler finished.

Letting a sigh you grinned and nodded, letting sleep take you as you were flanked by two crazy tornado wranglers.

[chronologically-challenged]

I think this fandom is too normal about Petronille. WHAT DO YOU MEAN SHE'S ONLY IN HER LATE TEENS/EARLY 20'S WHAT DO YOU MEAN?????

Like like!!!! We don't have a timeline on when Bonnie and Nille ran away from home, but it HAS to be when Bonnie was really young. Bonnie doesn't seem to remember their parents well at all, and the most we hear about them is that they were "mean". So like!!!! Depending on how old you see Bonnie (10-12ish) and how young you think the two ran away, that could range from 5 to 9 years give or take.

Thats!!!! A range!!! At the oldest Nille (say 24) she was 18 or 19 when the two ran away, which is an adult but still pretty young, but the youngest range????? Hello??? If Nille is 19 now, she could have been as young as 11 when she took Bonnie!!!! What!!!!

I don't think that's the case, but still??? If we take the average of those two, Nille would be 16!!! 16!!!!! And taking care of her sibling basically on her own!!! Nille is a kid who had to grow up too fast and take on the world to make sure Bonnie and her could survive!!! Nille's probably been fighting a good chunk of her life for their happiness and that doesn't even ACCOUNT for the abuse their parents messed her up with. And then after EVERYTHING basically sacrificed herself so Bonnie could have a chance to live from the King's Curse!!!!!

And after all that!!!! Suddenly, she's offered protection from 4 random adults who also adore her sibling and want to take care of the both of them??? What do you do with that??? Do you even BELIEVE that??? Can you even trust that someone else than you could be trusted with your baby sibling? That you can let someone else take that responsibility. The responsibility that you took on with your whole heart and soul to the point you made sure that even if you basically DIED for all that mattered, at least Bonnie would have a chance.

You've been asleep for months and woken up in a new reality where you're not your sibling's whole world anymore. They've changed. You weren't there for it. These people Iove Bonnie so much. But do they know them as much as you do??? They weren't there all this time!!! You should know your sibling better than anyone here!!!

And yet. Yet...

You don't know what to make of this. You're happy Bonnie's safe. You're terrified you don't recognize the new parts of them that have shown up without you being there.

Your sibling lives in a whole new world now. They love you. They would come back to it just being the two of you if you pushed it.

But if you do, you're not sure Bonnie would ever forgive you for it.

(Are you seeing my vision??? Do you understand why I'm not normal about Nille????)

[nikethestatue]

An Ode To Elain Archeron

Think about it--Elain Archeron is so desirable, so enviable, so needed--that she is always the prize at the end of the battle. She is the victory. The fact that she lives absolutely rent free in so many people's minds is the testament to her utterly monumental power. Because EVERYONE wants her. She doesn't have to lift a finger, but yet, she is the prize.

She is the prize for Lucien, and even if he himself doesn't even want her, his stans insist that they end up together, convinced that only SHE can make him happy

She is a prize for Tamlin, even though he doesn't know her and wanted her sister. But his stans insist that it would be Elain who'd remove the memory of Feyre from him and make him happy

She is a prize for Azriel, whom she wants and who wants her, and who forgot all about his 500 year old crush in like 3 months after meeting her

The Cauldron whom which all Life sprung and for which the Asteri themselves fought, desiring its power, PURRED in the presence of Elain Archeron, finding her so pleasing and beautiful

The King of Hybern fell to his knees in front of Elain, succumbing to her perfect strike, but not before calling her 'the pretty one' and acknowledging her inner strength

The High Lord of Night Court goes out of his way to fly her and show her the scenic route of Velaris, to please her

The entire IC stops eating their Solstice meals in order to wait for Elain to take her rightful place at the head of the table

Just like Azriel, Elain is shipped with everyone. Because she is desired by everyone--and every time someone calls her boring, they contradict themselves. Because you all want Elain for yourself. You all want HER with your guy of choice.

Elain's been shipped with Tarquin and Tamlin, with Aidas and Apollion, with Fenrys and Ruhn, with Beron and Lucien, with Azriel and the Cauldron, with Gwyn and Mor and Hypaxia, with Dorian and Bryaxis. With Eris. Jurian and Graysen. EVERYONE. Everyone wants Elain.

No one's been shipped with as many people, not even Azriel.

That's the power of Elain. She hasn't even had a book, and yet she is torn to pieces by the fandom, with each and every fraction wanting her.

You know how many people Gwyn is shipped with? ONE. (And the very controversial Tarquin, apparently)

Mor? Two.

Eris? Two.

Helion? One.

Elain, by the latest count--at least 18.

You want to pair Elain with EIGHTEEN characters.

Who the hell else has that level of appeal? This kind of power? NO ONE.

Elain Archeron is the baddest bitch of them all.

This is the queen of Queens. So, bow.

art: bethgilbert.art

[rlphunter]

Top Gun Fic Recs!

Most if not all of these authors are strictly 18+ Only. Please abide by their rules.

Read each authors warning!!!

I made an attempt at summaries but each author does a better job so please check them out!

I have been lurking mainly in the Top Gun fandom so hi everyone!!

Jake Seresin x Reader

Less Talk (In Progress) by @tongue-like-a-razor

I love this series so much! In the nicest way no pressure way I need this series to end happily but I will also eat up anything they write and so should you!

In Too Deep (In Progress) by @sunlightmurdock

Jake after successfully wooing a single mom has to prove himself to her two kids when she has a work trip. The youngest takes to him but the oldest has their walls up and makes Jake really work for it. This series is so sweet and I can't wait to see how it ends.

Just Friends by @say-al0e

Spoiler alert! They are not just friends. This fic has jealous jake! which is amazing, sweetness and smut. Who could ask for more?

and the truth of the matter is (i’ll never let you go) by @fidogo

Some miscommunication plus smut makes for an amazing fic!

Oh, Baby Universe (In Progress) by @seresinhangmanjake 

I am obsessed with this universe! Reader leaves Jake in the dust and then comes back a year later with a mini Jake. Such a warm hug of a series.

Sunkissing by @top-hhun 

Jake comes back after eight and a half months and for once has someone to come home to.

Fuck! The Universe (Complete) by @roosterbruiser

Reader is a naval avaitor and the daughter of Tom 'Iceman' Kazansky. An unlikely companionship turns into something more.

De-instigating the Instigator by @jupitercomet

Turns out Jake Seresin does indeed have an off button. This is my absolute comfort fic that I reread ALL THE TIME!

Bradley Bradshaw x Reader

Like I Can (3 part Completed Series) by @sometimesanalice

The Daggers make a bet that they each have the perfect person to set up with reader. A sweet fic that I reread when I need some nice fluff but makes you work for it a little!

You’re All I Care About by @fandomxpreferences

Reader gets into an accident. A lot of angst.

Two to Tango (Completed Series) by @roosterforme

Little competition between the Naval aviators and Air Force pilots and neither of them are going to back down!

Bob Floyd x Reader

Full of Surprises by @withahappyrefrain

An unexpected side of Bob comes out......... SMUT!

After the Bar by @bradshawswife

Continuing the Bob fucks agenda!

Whoops by @roosterbruiser

An adorable Bob blurb that features our boy and Cats. Who can ask for more?

Why Me? (In Progress) by @lottesreads

A single glance was all it took for Bob to fall for the daughter of Pete “Maverick” Mitchell. I am so excited to see where this series goes!

[fushiglow]

Hello glow!!! Thank you for another lovely satosugu work! :)

I absolutely love how real and tangible your writing is - seeing them start with different states of being turned on and building together really paints such a lovely picture of what intimacy is without the expectation of a perfect start-stop :) 3 cheers to realistic sexual dynamics!

Also, I think that your link at the end of your post goes to Violent Delights instead - but maybe that's just an issue on my end!

Thank you so much for this lovely feedback (and the heads up about the link), I can't tell you how much your words cheered me on Friday! They came at a time I really needed to hear them so, if you don't mind, I'm going to use this ask as an opportunity to say a few things about my writing and why I do what I do — no obligation to respond!

Quite honestly, I have been feeling a little anxious about how I'm perceived as a writer recently. When Over the Threshold started gathering some steam in January, I only had five published works on AO3 posted over the course of six months. By the end of August, I'll have 18 published works for Jujutsu Kaisen, 16 of which will be complete. I have never been this productive in a fandom before!

A lot of the reason for that is because I'm finally learning how to work with my AuDHD brain. I love writing, I really do, and I'm constantly excited by the possibilities that reside within my brain. I have more ideas than I have time or hands to write them, but I want to explore as many of those ideas as possible. In the past, I would have forced myself to stick to the thing that I was "supposed" to write, rather than following the burst of inspiration and writing the thing that I "wanted" to write. To no one's surprise, that usually meant I ended up writing nothing at all.

I'm someone who seeks out challenges, and all the fics I've published in 2024 have been experimental in some way. Come Get Your Honey was a challenge in extended metaphor. Balance was a challenge in seamlessly blending two very different universes. Mailman AU was a challenge in format. Violent Delights was a challenge in pushing myself to new and uncomfortable places. Thunder was a challenge in encapsulating an entire world and history within a single motif without ever actually seeing that world and history.

I'm really proud of every single one of those works, as well as the speed I've written them at. I've published 92k words on AO3 already this year and written far more, so I feel like I can no longer justifiably call myself a slow writer. However, all the works mentioned above have artistic merit in the more traditional sense — i.e. they're not smut.

At the time of writing this, three of my five most recent works contain sexual content with varying degrees of explicitness, and it's hard to escape that pervasive (and flawed) idea that smut is "less serious" as a form of writing. Even writing smut in the first place has been a slow process of overcoming some of my own biases. However, sex is part of the spectrum of human experiences, and it's also deeply political. Whenever I explore it in my writing, you can be sure that I always have that at the forefront of my mind. That's why these works, too, have represented something new and challenging and exciting for me.

Discreet Delivery was the first piece containing explicit sexual content that I ever shared publicly and, with how rife top/bottom discourse is in this fandom (most of which is based on heteronormative ideals that I vehemently disagree with), I really wanted to make a statement straight out of the gate. I'm very proud of how I managed to weave a switch/vers narrative into a oneshot, and the feedback on it was wonderful.

Headroom, however, presented a very different kind of challenge. It was extremely difficult to write, because it doesn't follow the beats of a traditional sex scene. There's no satisfaction for Satoru nor for the readers, and that made it tricky to keep it engaging. I was also very nervous about showing a different side of these beloved AU characters and establishing a new dynamic between them while incorporating some of the broader themes from Over the Threshold.

Finally, Tell Me I'm Pretty was pure subversion, writing Suguru in particular in a way I've never seen before to challenge expectations about "roles" in sex. It meant I had no blueprint to work from, but I'm not interested in reproducing the same dynamics I've read a thousand times. However, that also means that I felt very anxious about how people would receive this fic — especially on GeGo Day.

The truth is, everything I write I write for myself first and foremost, but it's hard to keep sight of that when you're blessed with an engaged audience. This is a huge reason why updates to Over the Threshold take time. This fic is deeply important and deeply personal to me, but its growing popularity adds a pressure that I don't want to influence my writing. I feel a constant underlying need to outdo myself with every new fic and chapter I post, but that's unrealistic and unachievable.

Obviously, I want readers to enjoy what I write, but I know the moment I start writing for other people is the moment my writing suffers. That's the main reason why I'm reluctant to put anything behind a paywall, even if I feel frustrated with the way fanfics are casually consumed on the internet. Readers occasionally make demands of me without any respect for my time and effort and creative vision, and sometimes I look at what I've written and think, "Am I really going to give that away for free?". However, asking for anything beyond tips would change the game for me. Enjoying my writing is far more valuable to me, at least at this point in time.

All of this is to say: I really loved writing Tell Me I'm Pretty. I had a blast with it — until it came time to post, at which point I suddenly felt full of self-doubt. For you to appear in my inbox and tell me that you appreciated the realism of the intimacy in this fic? I couldn't have asked for anything more, thank you so much ♥️

TL;DR, I write for myself, but god, it's the best feeling in the world when readers resonate with my writing. I can't tell you how much I appreciate you taking the time to let me know. I love you all to the moon and back!

[daysofmoron]

Okay, by this point I'm tired

A little bit of my thoughts on some situation, that one, by my surprise, that is still going and i see it like some hell of the ride

My discussion going to take places around one person /I'm not going to name them/

I met this person online while drawing in magma, and i thought/and still think/ about them as a fun to talk to and draw with

Let's be honest - we drew some NSFW stuff /in closed magma sessions/

At some point they revealed that they’re turning 18 and not 19.

After this everyone suddenly went into rampage mode/again, this is how i see the situation, you can have your own opinion on that/

Some people, like me, didn't care about their age, if they're fun to communicate with, I don't really think about how old they are

But other audience...well, some said that they're just disappointed, and i understand, they have their own reasons

But there were people who started anonymously or even openly harass this person

Let's be honest - nobody is going to sue you

You didn't know their age when you interacted with them. The fact that they were hiding their real age is their responsibility, not yours

Second of all - once they will turn 18 nobody is going to care or call the police. As if police would want to get involved in something like this

Okay, now to the point

On insta some other day i saw a couple of people posting in their stories "don't talk to this person" and sharing this person’s account

By this point i was so tired of seeing all of this happening, and I don't want people harassing one person because of one mistake they made, and, again, they admitted they were wrong, they’re already paying the price. Of course this doesn't mean that people will suddenly forgive them, but again, does this age stuff really matter when you just chatting?...

Anyway, i texted one person that posted this on insta, expressing my opinion that they shouldn't probably share this person's account, because let's be real, it can encourage more harassment, it even looks like harassment when you post stuff like this with some rude comment about this person

They replied to me that they weren't trying to harass anyone, just wanted to make sure that other people won't get involved in some weird stuff this person causing

. . .

What?

I then saw that they also shared in the story that they have proofs

I asked for these proofs, they send me some screenshots of conversation with another person, who told that the person this whole situation is about not only hid their true age

Is also a t-cest shipper...

//a VERY heavy sigh//

I'm sorry...wHaT?

In this message i saw they were writing about this person following the artist that loves drawing t-cest, not only turtles, but April, Casey Jr and etc and etc

. . .

So like, we can't now like just the drawing style of artist? If they have some strange thing that we don't agree with, we should just ban this person

I still don't see people leaving, for example, fnaf fandom because creator hates lgbt

I still don't see people leaving the fandom of attack on titans because it’s chief editor killed his wife

And i still don't see people leaving hazbin hotel fandom knowing how shady vivziepop has been throughout many years, accused in drawing ped**hilia and z**philia

And wow, people still follow these fandoms and people just because they like what they’re doing.

They don't need to follow artist's ideas or thoughts just to like what they draw or make

And, somehow, we came to a point where the person this post is about is accused in being a t-cest artist basically without proof. Just because someone somewhere told something about that they think they saw. Just baseless words.

How about if I tell you that I am a huge unicorn with rainbow hair and i live in a big castle with butterflies as my servants –

Do you believe it without any photo proof? No, I don’t think so.

I’ve been drawing with them for months. I never saw anything remotely close to anything they’ve been accused in.

I follow their every account I know of.

And again, i didn't see any of this stuff -

I now think, that people are trying to make this person to be seen by others as a black sheep.

And now, I even think about stopping to interact with anyone in ROTTMNT fandom.

Why? Well because of people’s hypocrisy and egoism, how easy they’re ready to give up and turn their backs on a person because of one mistake.

Did the story of Alek Holowka didn’t teach us anything? Or recent story with Ed Piskor? Are you really forgetting that you’re talking about and with a real human beings? Or you just simply don’t care?

I'm getting sick of this -

P.S. again, this is my opinion on things, you can have your own thoughts on the situation

[charlidos]

I'm having a serious bout of nostalgia these past weeks. I started reading from my pile of fanfiction which I've printed over the years. And ended up reading the only Lord of the Rings story I have saved for posterity, namely Calico's brilliant (but sadly unfinished) Viggo/Orlando fic Blood Oranges. And wow, it's really quite an intoxicating read.

It was never a big fandom for me back then, but I remember reading a little, and I remember finding that whole cast quite wonderful.

All of a sudden, I felt a strong need to look back at the Viggorli pairing of yore. Turned out to be a bit of a rabbit hole for me.

I realised I find it very fascinating to have this soon 25 years perspecitve on them, since fandom is usually quite topical. Particularly RPF, since it's quite dependent on that darn thing we call reality.

Looking back at a pairing like Viggo and Orlando is wrought with wistfulness, with all the could-have-beens and never-happeneds. In the now of a pairing, you can fantasise of a future, but with the reality of a past, it's quite different.

I've always been intrigued by the relationship that Viggo and Orlando had during those 18 months of filming LotR. Sharing a make up trailer, getting lost in the woods together, and just generally spending a lot of time together. And waxing lyrically about each other. More than ten years later, O said in an interview that V is his biggest influence, that the way V took care of him on the LotR is something that mattered a lot to him. And that V in general is a legend, a beautiful soul etc. It's quite touching.

But it's also a quite melancholic and wistful statement since O also implies it's not that easy to keep in touch with V because "he's an artist, an ACTUAL artist".

A few years later, O very randomly appeared on a rather odd Italian show where people are reconciled with each other, live on tv. O was there when two estranged sisters were reconciled. O says he has a similiar situation with a "good friend", someone with a similiar age difference as the sisters, someone who used to take care of him. It's not at all clear, but it seems this "brother" gave him a ring with the inscription "To Wherever it May Lead". A line from Legolas to Aragorn which was cut.

(It's a little difficult to hear, but O says that the line from LotR was engraved in the ring when it was given to him, and that he always has it, as an encouragment. I've only found this clip on a Chinese site, hence the subtitles.)

So, it seems to be implied that V gave this ring to O. That O maybe also lost touch with V. And that maybe they've reconciled? It's unclear, but I find it terribly intriguing.

Of course, I know nothing about what's actually going, and it's all fantasy, but it's nonetheless quite a fascinating perspective to look back like this over the years. In my brain - warped by years in fandom - it turns into this EPIC. Either an epic romance, with its ups and downs, loss and great love. Or an epic tragedy, full of unfulfilled desires, bad choices and opportunities lost. There's still some fanfiction written these days (not much, but I'm in awe that there's any at all!). The lovely recent work of chaosmanor really sold me on very wistful, but also quite hopeful, reconcilation fic.

O and V are getting old, but they are still two quite handsome fellows. And I hope there will be a proper, public LotR-cast reunion in time for the 25 yrs mark. They had a few covid-oriented reunions on zoom for the 20 yr celebration, but I hope it'll be live one day.

I would like to see the fellowship of tattoed nine together again, as long as they're all still alive.

[blubushie]

It's bitching hour I see, don't mind if I join! A lot of the TF2 fandom (mostly just Tumblr/Twitter parts of it) seem to be huge pussies about shipping. There has been talk about straight Pauling ships already and this falls under it too. TF2 fans on here seem to just fear being slightly unconventional with ships, no age gap more than 5 years or so, only the three most popular ships or else eat dirt, no straight Pauling ships, what do you mean bi people exist? It's stupid. You like a ship that isn't fucking red Octoberfest? Starve! Nobody will write or draw anything for this pair for months! Like a ship that's slightly controversial within the fandom like basically any pairing with an age gap, classcest, M/F Pauling ship, anything with pyro in it (also dear god this fandom treats pyro like an uwu baby that doesn't know sex when the guys a full grown pyromaniac with a job! He's mentally ill not a fucking child!! Sorry for side tangent) will get your head stuck on a pike ffs. I remember when I joined I really liked the popular/non problematic ships too but the attitudes of some people smh. TF2 side of Tumblr please get a bit more open minded with what you ship or just leave the people who ship unconventional shit alone. I know there's a line that 90% of the fandom won't cross and it's for a good reason imo (talking about incest ships here) but a relationship with an age gap of more than 10 years is not on the other side of that line, have fun and explore silly relationships with these fictional characters for once!! Let me have my toxic yaoi and toxic yuri in peace :(

Also I'm sorry about putting this long thing in your ask box, this escalated quickly

Agreed fully and also I'm gonna say something that's gonna rustle a lot of feathers–

People love SniperSpy. It's generally accepted that Spy is somewhere in his 50s to 60s, judging off Scout's age alone, and with SniperSpy he's sleeping with someone three years older than his own son.

And there is a absolutely nothing wrong with this when both parties are consenting adults. What I have an issue with is that I've seen a lot of people who ship SniperSpy then get on the arse of MedicScout shippers because Scout is "too young" for Medic.

My question is why? Why is it ok to ship Sniper, at 30, with Spy, a man at least 20 years older than him, but it's not alright to do the same with Scout, who's 27, and Medic, who's probably about 20 years older than him? Why is that? Why do you have an issue with one and not the other?

And it comes down to two things:

1. People think Scout looks too young. Which, I'm sorry, but at someone who's 5'2" and looks about 16-18 at all times (depending on whether or not I shave) despite being 23, fuck you. You do not get to decide if someone's physical appearance is "mature enough" when that person is a fucking adult. Get fucked.

2. Ableism. Scout is notoriously immature and often acts like a teenage. HE IS ALMOST THIRTY YEARS OLD. Maturity/behaviour ≠ age and the funny part is that these are the same people who tell you not to infantilise autistic people for perceived immaturity but then go on and infantilise A MAN WHO IS ALMOST THIRTY because he acts immature. Practise what you preach or get fucked.

People NEVER do this with Sniper and I'm not sure if it's because Sniper looks like he's 40 or because he acts like he's 40. But I'm inclined to think it's the latter, because people often do this with Pyro too as Pyro also often acts childlike.

So hey, if you do this, check yourself. Cuz you're probably being ableist. Ask yourself why exactly you think an almost thirty year old man can't have a romantic or sexual relationship with a man older than him when they're both mercenaries on a team of hired killers who kill people and break things FOR A LIVING. Are you normal about neurodivergent people? No, are you really?

[dreamingofep]

Strangers in the Crowd

(Elvis/Austin!Elvis × reader)

Character/Fandom: Elvis - Elvis (2022)

Request: No, just another one of my delusional fantasies.

Prompt: You and your best friend are on are annual girls trip and go to see Elvis at the International. Little did you know this would be a show you’ll never forget. [Fem!Reader ]

TW: Smuttt, cussing, fingering (f. receiving) teasing/tension, virgin reader, unprotected p in v, oral.

Rating: Explicit/Mature (NSFW, 18+, so minors Do NOT Interact)

Word Count: 8.1k

A/N: Hi lovlies. Hope you enjoy this new fic! I LOVE 70s Elvis in Vegas and couldn’t help but wonder if he would have a little fling with someone in his audience. Im incapable of writing a short fic I guess so sorry that it’s so long hahaha. Feel free to message me or comment what you think! Thanks for all the love. Sorry for any spelling mistakes or goofs.

The Vegas lights blinded you with all their glittery and colorful beauty. You had never been here before and this small little city in the desert excited you. You and your best friend were on your annual girls trip and this year you decided to go all out and do a three-day trip here. You and Cicily were also celebrating your 25th birthday together as it was only 3 days apart from one another. You both had never left Austin and were so excited to make a road trip to Vegas.

You both were fresh out of breakups and were ready to have some fun. Your ex was a selfish asshole and only wanted to use you for your body. You never let him get that far and couldn’t stand how he would treat you regardless. It only lasted a month but you knew a girls trip was in order a forget all about any college boy problems.

On the first day there, you both hit the shops and bought some new outfits and a really special one to go and see Elvis Presley at the International Hotel tonight. You both were so excited to see him live. You had heard all the rave reviews of his latest Vegas engagement and Cicily had a cousin who worked for the hotel who could get you two some tickets to the midnight show. They were booths in the middle of the showroom so you thought it would be a pretty good seat to see everything.

You both wait in line to get into the theater and the excited hum of the room made you so anxious in the best of ways. You’ve never seen him live and tonight was the time.

You both get ushered to your booth and you order drinks for yourselves. Two cosmopolitans were your drinks of choice and the buzz in the air was electric. Everyone was rushing to their seats with hound dogs and pictures of Elvis in their hands. A lot of the girls were giddy with excitement and you couldn’t help but look the same. You glance over at Cicily and it looks like she’s on the brink of screaming.

The house lights go down and applause breaks out as the golden curtain starts to rise. The lights dance on the shimmering fabric and it is mesmerizing. The band starts to play and you get chills running down your arms. The bass is loud and heavy and feels like it's rattling in your chest.

Then you see it. This tall, ethereal-looking man steps from the wings of the stage and captures the audience in the palm of his hand. The most contagious-looking smile forms across his face and he shakes his head and looks down at the floor, then back up. You’re smiling like an idiot and screaming with the rest of the crowd. His tan skin gleamed underneath the white jumpsuit he had on with mesh chains connecting on each side of the low cut V. You look over at Cicily and she has tears in her eyes she’s so happy.

You have to pinch yourself… you’re in the same room as Elvis Presley.

The Elvis Presley.

The King of Rock and Roll.

The man that caused riots in the 50s and now fourteen years later, he’s back for more.

His long legs get him to the microphone quickly as one of his band members helps him put his guitar strap on around his neck. He still has an ear-to-ear grin on his face and pulls the microphone stand to him as he stretches out his right leg as the left is shaking in place.

“We’ll that’s all right mama…that’s all right with you…”

The sound of his voice filling the large showroom is causing everyone to thrill with excitement and clap along to the beat of the song. He is filled with nervous energy but it is only fueling him further.

You hug her tight as both of your eyes are glued to the stage.

She nudges you as he is talking to the audience, “Isn’t he something?! Oh my god, he’s just on fire up there!”

You nod your head as you look back at the stage. He starts stuttering and making fun of himself and folding over and laughing. And good lord his laugh is the most contagious thing you’ve ever heard. You feel a grin form across your face as you listen to him stutter and giggle at himself. He still has that boyish charm but the sexual charisma drips off of him like thick sweet honey.

And what you would give to have a taste…

Cicily bumps your shoulder and breaks you out of your daydream.

“Did you know that he walks through the crowd and kisses the girls? My cousin says he does It every show,” she says giddily. You can’t help but giggle and blush at the idea of his lips touching yours. Lord, it makes you weak just thinking about it.

“My first movie ladies and gentlemen was Love Me Tender, I’d like to sing it for you,” you hear his smooth baritone voice fill the speakers and turn your attention to the stage again. He starts the song off slowly, kissing a few girls that are by the stage. Then he goes down the steps of the stage and says hello to more people.

The crowd starts to gather around him as he tries to make his way through the showroom. He places soft kisses on the women coming up to him or anyone else he sees in his eye-line.

He starts getting closer to your booth and a huge surge of nerves fills your entire body.

Could there be a chance?

Would he see you?

Would he give you a kiss?

Screams fill the air as he gets closer to your booth and you feel your heart drop into your stomach. He was distractingly beautiful the closer he was to you. All you could do was stare at the way he commanded the room and how he took the time to look at everyone with a smile.

Suddenly, your eyes meet and you gasp at those electric blue eyes. They pierce into you and hold you there. You feel like time had slowed down for you two. In this brief moment, it was just you two and not the other thousands of people screaming his name fighting to get his attention. He gently pushes through the few people in front of him and stands right before you.

A small smirk forms on the corners of his mouth and he places his hand on your cheek. Blood rushes to them and you move in closer to him.

“Come here, lil’ mama,” he says and leans in to kiss you.

His lips meet yours and you move your hand to his face too. The softness of his lips feels perfect on yours and he pulls away and has a gorgeous smile on his face. Before turning away, he winks and moves into the crowd almost consuming him. Your whole body is in shock. There are no words that can form in your head other than, “holy shit.”

You place both of your hands over your mouth to cover your complete shock. Cicily tugs at your arm and is screaming over and over at you, “what just happened!? Oh my god was that real!?”

You are at a loss for words. Nothing could make this trip more perfect than what just happened. Elvis makes his way back onto the stage to finish the song. The crowd starts to sit back down and you are buzzing with excitement still. Never in a million years did you think this would happen.

“Am I dreaming!? Holy shit… that was amazing…” you trail off in a daze.

“Was it like you dreamed it?”

“Even better, god what I would give for another…” you stop yourself as Cicily grabs your hand with a sly look on her face.

“You don’t have enough balls to go get another…” she giggles.

You look back up to the stage and he’s taking a second to drink some water. Every angle of this man is perfect and the way that jumpsuit looks astonishing on him just makes your mouth water. The feeling of his plump lips replays over and over and over again in your head and you start to blush just thinking about having another kiss from him.

“You wanna put money on that?”

You get up from the booth and make your way to the front tables. You squeeze through the people’s chairs and get to the ledge of the stage. Elvis turns around and sets down his water on the table next to one of the guitar players as he sees you leaning your arms on the stage and looking up at him. You rest your chin on your arms and give him your most pleading eyes.

“Well now, what do we have here,” he chuckles into the microphone.

You smile a big smile at him and motion him to come closer to you with your finger.

He slowly moves closer, taking his sweet time, almost teasing you.

“You want another kiss so you can sit down, is that the idea?” he teases, his feet right near your arms.

You nod your head yes and can’t help but bite your lip. You feel this rush of boldness and reach out and touch his calf. He gets a grin from this gesture and kneels down on one knee for you.

“Well come here baby,” he coos into the microphone. The crowd goes crazy and you feel your heart racing out of your chest. You get on your tippy toes as you try to reach him. He pulls the microphone away from his mouth and places his hand on your face yet again. He gives you a sly grin and shakes his head.

“You naughty girl,” he whispers as he leans in for a kiss. Your cheeks flush red at the sound of his words but also how passionate the kiss felt. There was so much energy flowing through him and you loved the way his lips felt on you. You squeeze his calf slightly as he is about to break the kiss. You smile up at him and bite your lip. He shakes his head and goes in for another wet kiss and you can’t help a small airy moan escape your lips.

“Thank you,” you mouthed at him and let go of his leg. You shoot him an ear-to-ear smile and he gets off his knees and stands back up.

“Lord have mercy,” he chuckles back into the mic as the audience continues to egg him on. You feel your head spinning and the loudness of the room only gets worse. You take a deep breath and try to go back to your seat. Other girls were trying to get to the stage too but Elvis wasn’t paying any attention to them. He went back for another drink of water and the band start to play the next song.

You finally reach the booth and Cicily’s mouth is agape and her eyes are blown wide.

“Pay up,” you snicker and hold out your hand.

She continues to have that shocked expression on her face and you burst out into laughter.

“You’re insane! I didn’t think you’d actually do it!” You nod your head at her and look back at the stage.

“Well, when’s the next time that’s gonna happen?! The worst he could have said was no. I have nothing to lose we’re leaving in two days, might as well take some memories with us back home,” you say as you realize everything that has happened in these last 20 minutes. Shock and awe are all you can see and so happy that this has happened.

You turn your attention to him on stage and you could swear he’s looking at you, and only you. There are so many songs that he does that sound incredible. He brings a new life to them and there's so much passion in his voice. He’s up there doing what he loves to do and it shines through.

“Thank you, ladies and gentlemen, you’ve been a fantastic audience,” he says humbly as he goes to drink some water. “There’s a song I did in Blue Hawaii, and I’d like to sing it, especially for you,” the first notes of the song ring out on the piano and the heavy sound of the drums follow as he starts Can’t Help Falling in Love.

It’s one of your favorite songs he’s ever done and it always lifts your spirits. His voice rings out beautifully with the rest of his backup singers and you can feel the tears well up in your eyes.

This last hour and a half was surreal and one you’ll never forget. And to end with this song in particular, you know he’s singing it to you, the fans. His love for the fans was something that no other artist had. That’s what made him so special.

A taller man with brunette hair starts to make his way to your table and you look over at Tasha uncomfortably. He greets you both with a smile and you wait for what he’s doing at your table.

“Hi ladies, I’m Jerry. I work with Elvis,” he said trying to talk over the loudspeakers. “We were wondering if you both wanted to come to the after-party tonight for Elvis?”

You shoot Cicily a look and you swear she has stars in her eyes.

“Yes, we’d love to!” You both say at the same time. Jerry laughs at your excitement.

“Alright sounds good, follow me and I’ll escort you both up,”

Your heart raced with excitement and anticipation for what was going to happen next. A party with Elvis!? This has to be some sort of dream you swear.

You all exit the showroom and head through the lobby. Through the hall of elevators, you get in the last one on the right and Jerry holds the door open for your two and makes sure no one is following you. He inserts a key into the panel that gives access to the penthouse floors.

You get up to the top floors and turn the corner to the first doors where you see two big guys blocking the doors. They nod at Jerry and open the door for him. He lets you two in the doors first where there is a lot of people already in the suite with drinks in their hand. The view of the Vegas strip was in the distance, sparkling with all the luster of stars.

You both get yourself glasses of champagne and find an open sofa seat you both share. Your body fills with nerves getting to be so close to him again.

Suddenly a hush falls over the room and this intense amount of energy makes your arm hair stand up.

Above the crowd stands the tall man in his all-white jumpsuit. His hair was wet with sweat and his tan chest glistened.

You stand up, wanting to be seen in the crowd of people yet again. Everyone starts to congratulate him on a wonderful show. He shakes the hands of anyone who reaches out to him and smiles the most gorgeous-looking smile you had ever seen.

Suddenly, his eyes look up at yours as you are staying back from the rest of the group.

He starts walking over and turns to look over at Cicily. She and Jerry are in the midst of a conversation and watch as he leans in and places a kiss on her lips. You cover your face to hide any sounds that might come out of your mouth and quietly giggle.

No one is going to believe the trip you two are having…

By the time you glance back over at Elvis, he’s standing right in front of you, looming over your small frame as you stare deep into those eyes.

“Well, what a great surprise seeing you here. Did you come back for more?’ He teases as he brushes your hair behind your ear. You can’t help but blush at his words and want to play his little game.

“Oh I don’t know about all that, it seems you have enough girls in this suite to keep you busy for a few hours. I don’t think you’ll have time for me,” you say coyly. You normally never act so cocky and sure of yourself, but something about this man made you crazy being so close to him.

“The only one I see that I want to pay any attention to is right in front of me darlin'. What’s your name?”

“Y/n, nothing special.”

“Oh no, I like the sound of that. It suits you. Beautiful and sexy,” he teases.

Your breathing hitches and you have no idea what to say to him. Almost as reading you thought, he leans down and kisses you right on the lips. This time it's different. He’s not putting on an act. There’s no audience necessary that is egging him on to kiss you. He places his hand on the small of your back and slowly pushes you into his strong frame.

You sigh into him loving the feeling of your body touching his. You put your hands on his chest, feeling his soft chest hair on your fingertips.

“Do you need anything darlin’? I need to go take a shower and I’ll come back out to the party.”

“Some more kisses, but I’ll be fine for a little,” you blush and shoot him a sly grin up at him.

“Oh I was right, I do have a naughty girl,” he grins devilishly, “Go enjoy the party. I promise I’ll come find ya.” He winks and starts to walk off to the next room attached to this suite. Your heart flutters at the slightest thing he does. You’ll be lucky to make it back home alive in one piece by the time this night ends.

You look over at Cicily again and she’s still all eyes for Jerry and you smile to yourself.

You try to mingle in with the rest of the guests but your mind keeps wondering when Elvis is coming back out. You wanted to talk to him more, be next to him, and most importantly, you want him to kiss you more.

Minutes go by and you see Elvis through the crowd dressed in a blue button-up, making his electric eyes pop even more, and a pair of black slacks. This man dressed to the nines no matter the occasion and the confidence just dripped off of him. He made his rounds throughout the room making small talk to anyone who came up to him.

Your heart was racing the entire time watching him, just waiting for your turn next. You were sitting on the sofa next to the windows, taking in this breathtaking view when you felt that familiar chill run down your body. You turn to look up at Elvis looking at you. His eyes tracing every inch of your body, looking at you ravenously.

“You like what you see hmm?” You say sheepishly.

He kneels down on one knee in front of you, just as he did on the stage, and leans in to whisper.

“I think I found what was missing to make this a perfect view.”

You feel your cheeks begin to redden. “Oh? You think so?”

“I do honey. I’d love to take you right up against that window and make the whole town watch.”

Your heart stops at the sound of his words. You feel your wetness pool at the sound of his words and you cross your legs, your pussy starting to have this needy feeling.

“Why don’t we go into the other room so we can talk more privately,” he says.

You two sneak into the connecting room and he closes the door behind you two. It’s another large living room type of setup with a bar and a piano by the window. You get lost in the beauty of the interior and the gold accents everywhere. He gently grabs your hand and takes you out of the front door and into the room across the hall. When he opens the door, the scent of him fills your nose and makes your mouth water. You hadn’t been around him very long, but the way you love the way he smells is so comforting but also so intoxicating.

There’s a large king-sized bed that consumed the middle of the room, and another grand-sized piano by the window.

You feel his hands wrap around your waist and he turns you to face him.

“That little stunt you pulled out there was a bold one. What made you think to do that?”

“Hmm, I just liked our first kiss so much, I needed another. Couldn’t sit down until I got it,” you say bluntly.

“I’m so glad you did. You were the one that stood out the most to me tonight honey. I couldn’t get enough.” The tension in the room is thick and your body wants him more than anything and it scares you.

You reach up and grab the collar of his shirt, making him get closer to you as you plant a long wet kiss. You feel a low grumble in his chest as you slip your tongue into his mouth. You gasp at the sensations running through your body. You feel the wetness in your panties pool more and you are unsure what to do about it. He carefully slides his hand down the arch of your back and pushes your torso into his. You gasp at the feeling of his erection starting to form. Part of you wants to ravage him right there, but the other part of you is timid and shy. A bolt of nerves raced through your body as it hits you he might want a bit more than just kissing tonight…

But you love the feeling of him against you. The way his hands grope and squeeze your body makes you a complete mess. His hands drift up, as he slides the straps of your dress off your shoulders. Your breathing quickens and you stare up at him, unsure of what to do next.

His fingertips lightly brush the top of your breast and you gasp at the sensation.

“You look so beautiful, mama. Can I see the rest of ya?” He asks so innocently. The boyish smile he has as he looks over your body. Like it’s the first time he’s ever seen a woman this close.

His gaze is intimidating. You really don’t know what he expects of you but he’s Elvis Presley. He’s surely been with countless women and his expectations are astronomically high when it comes to sex.

Nerves continue to wrack your body almost causing you to shake. Your voice is quiet and unsure, “Elvis, I don’t know. I don’t think you want to do this with me….” The concern lights up his eyes.

“Honey, I don’t want you to be uncomfortable. You don’t have to do anything. But what did you mean by that? Why wouldn’t I want to do anything with you? You’re gorgeous baby,” he says with a smile.

“I umm… I know I’m not what you’re used to. I’m not sure about…” you trail off, your cheeks burning red.

His eyebrows squint together in concern.

“Baby, you don’t have to worry about anything. I’ll take real good care of you I promise. I want to give you more,” he places a soft kiss on your lips and you feel your body aches for him to do everything he’s promising you.

But you break the kiss and muster up the courage.

“Elvis I, umm, I’m a virgin. I’ve never been with a man. Ever. I have no idea how to please you and I don’t want this to be something that’s terrible for you. You’re better off finding another girl in that room to have fun with tonight,” your voice soft and weak. You feel so embarrassed about what you had to confess and the insecurities are running off of you like water.

He looks at you stoically, trying to find the right thing to say. He goes to sit on the edge of the bed and reaches out his hand for yours. You cautiously move toward him and he looks deep into your eyes.

“Darlin’ that’s nothing to be ashamed of. You have no reason to feel bad about it. Not with me at least. If you’re not ready to do anything, that’s fine,” he says softly and thinks for a bit. “Can I ask why it’s never happened? I just thought a gorgeous girl like you, you’d have men throwing themselves at ya,” he quips cutely.

You chuckle at his cheeky comment, “No one’s been worth it. I just didn’t feel the same when it came to having sex with someone and wasn’t just going to do it because they wanted it.”

“I understand darlin’. I’m sorry you’ve felt like that with a man,” he says softly.

Your head spins as this whole situation feels unreal. You have this undeniable need to have him which is crazy to you considering you have never had a man.

“But you’re different, I can tell. I want you, so bad Elvis. Every part of me wants you but I don’t know what you expect of me.”

“You don’t need to do anything darlin’. I’ll take care of you and make you feel so good. I can teach you things, if you want…”

“Yes, teach me… teach me how to make you feel good too. What do you like, please tell me,” you plead.

His eyes start to look aflame, he bites his bottom lip and places a tiny kiss on your cheek down to your neck.

“Mmm, okay dear,” he whispers in your ear.

You take a sharp breath in, loving the way his lips ignite you and all the new sensations that come with it.

“Can I teach you how to suck me off? Would you like me in your mouth?” He asks with lust rolling off his words causing your pussy to clench.

You slowly nod your head yes and he goes on to kiss you again on the lips, slipping his tongue in and groaning.

The idea of his cock in you has you filled with anticipation and need. You had only ever grinded on a few guys in the past over their pants but this was different. Something about Elvis’ commanding presence told you that he was going to fuck you senseless and you were going to love it.

He carefully placed one of your hands on his upper thigh where you can feel his forming erection run down his leg.

You gasp at the feeling and how large he is.

“See whatcha doin’ to me, making me so hard. This is gonna be inside you making you feel so good.” He moans as he feels you start to rub the length of him. The friction of his pants against it is driving him crazy. He trails kisses up and down your neck, nipping at times the soft sensitive flesh making you moan.

He leans you back, so he can get better access to your breasts. He kisses and sucks at them, making popping sounds each time he lets go. You feel the rush of wetness go into your panties and the throbbing sensation overtaking your core.

You carefully pull down the fabric of the top of your dress, exposing yourself to him. He groans when he sees what you’re doing and takes his large hands and places them firmly on you. You watch as he squeezes them, applying little pressure at first, then squeezes them harder causing you to moan and your head to fall back. He lifts one of your breasts and puts your nipple in his mouth, sucking and licking the sensitive bud.

You gasp, shocked by the way he uses his mouth on you. The more he sucks and licks them, the worse the throbbing becomes in between your legs. You can’t help but push his head more into your breasts wanting him to ravage them more.

You rub his fully formed erection and try to get his pants off of him but he stops you.

“Oh are you ready baby? You want this?” He quips.

You nod your head, “yes, tell me what you like. I want to make you feel good,” you beg.

“Take off your dress for me, let me see you.” You pull down the rest of your dress and stand before him just in your panties. One by one, you undo the buttons on his shirt as you feel his eyes take in the sight before him.

Your hands shake slightly as you get to unbutton his pants and slowly pull down the zipper. You slide down the waist band of his slacks and to your surprise he’s not wearing any underwear, you watch as his large cock spring free from his pants.

You stare and bite your lip. You had no idea what to expect, but you were not expecting this. His cock was longer, and thicker than you expected and the way his veins running along his shaft made your mouth water by just looking at it. Your hands trail down his chest and graze over his length. He hisses at the contact and squeezes your arm.

You’ve never seen a man naked before, but you know this was as perfect as they come.

“Get on your knees for me baby,” he says gently as he sits back down on the bed, spreading his legs wide, looking like the definition of temptation. You kneel in between his legs, wanting to touch all of him so badly but wait for his instructions.

He picks up your hand and wraps it around his shaft. The length of him is warm and there is a clear fluid coming out of the head. He grabs your other hand and has you cup his rather large, heavy-hanging balls.

“What I’d like you to do for me, is just rub me in your hand, back and forth, then lick the head of my cock. Nice and slow like this,” he moves his hand on top of yours and you watch as his foreskin almost envelops his red, leaking head, and pull it back to see more of his protruding veins in his shaft. He has you gently squeeze his balls in your hand, causing his hips to move and dry hump into you. After a few strokes, he lets go of your hands and watches you. You love the small, airy sounds he makes as you put a little more pressure on it. His hips gently roll as he enjoys your hand working his cock.

“Now open your mouth for me, honey. Nice and wide and let me feel you.” You keep stoking him and do as he says. You open your mouth and he slowly guides the tip of his cock into your mouth. The hot heat touches your tongue and you moan. You wrap your lips around his head and suck.

A deep guttural growl comes out of him and you start to suck. This unbeknownst primal instinct takes over you and the smell of him fills your nose making you moan with him in your mouth.

“Oh yes, just like that mama. Just like that. Use your tongue a bit too. Lick and suck on me.” He groans out. You look up at his face looking so pleasured by this. His mouth is open in awe and watching you intently as you suck and stroke his cock.

You start to use your tongue licking and swirling around his head while sucking him.

You get more excited and decide to put more of him inside your mouth, doing the same motions he told you to. He gasps as you take more of him hungrily. You keep watching him as his eyes pop open and he lets out a loud moan. You test out what gets him going the most. You suck his tip, swirling your tongue around his swollen head, and squeeze his balls more making him buck his hips off the bed.

“Oh mama yes, that’s so good. Let me move in and out of your mouth now,” he moans hungrily and grabs a fist full of hair in his hand. You love the way he’s sounding. The way he’s getting off because of you is the most addicting sound and you want to take in more of his cock.

You place your hands on the tops of his thighs and he pushes his hips slightly, having you take in more of his length. You feel his head hit the back of your throat and you sputter and gag around him. He pulls his cock from your throat, making sure you’re okay, and watch as you claw at his thighs, ready for more.

You nod your head at him and take more of him in your mouth. You never thought giving head would be a thing you’d like, but watching him enjoy it so much was one of the hottest things you’ve ever experienced.

He continues to moan and tighten the grip on your hair. You move with him and he fills your mouth with his hot length. You try to relax your throat to not gag on him as much but he continues to plunge his cock down your throat, letting you breathe, then putting it back down your throat. He pulls out of you, pulling you from your hair and you let out a soft cry.

“Oh, honey you did so good. Making me feel so good. I could fuck that throat all night, but I need to take care of you now,” he teases and helps you get off your knees. He picks you up and places you on the bed with the pillows underneath your head and back.

He looks like he’s about to eat you alive and you wait patiently.

“How’s my honey doing? Are you feeling okay?” He says as he opens your legs wide for him. Your heart beats wildly out of your chest and feel more wetness pool.

“I need you. I’m throbbing and it won’t go away.” You plead and try to close your legs, hoping some sort of friction would help.

But he doesn’t let you and continues to keep them open, both of his hands on your knees. Looking at your soaked panties, he starts to trail his hand down to your panty line.

“I’m gonna touch you, honey. Making sure you’re all ready for me.” He growls when he feels the wetness that has seeped through the lace fabric. You jump at the friction and he tears them off in one quick motion.

His eyes grow wide as he looks at the wetness leaking out of you. He takes two fingers and slowly rubs your clit, causing an electric shock through your body.

“Oh fuck! What are you…,” your question fades as you moan loudly instead. He runs those two fingers up and down your folds, spreading your wetness and driving you mad. You arch your back and push into his fingers causing a mess in between your legs.

He smiles at the state you’re in, needy and horny, just how he wants you to stay.

“Have you ever played with yourself, honey? You ever put your fingers inside yourself?” He asks innocently.

You blush and have to look away, “I’ve played with myself a few times but umm, I’ve never put my fingers inside myself.” You say shyly. The idea never really popped into your head til now. Wanting Elvis’ fingers inside you sounded like a sin that was so delicious. You were so attracted to the idea.

“Hmm, I see baby. Have you ever made yourself cum?”

Your face turns another shade of red and quickly shake your head no, not wanting to see the reaction on his face.

“Well, I’ll teach you, honey. Make you feel so good. You are very needy tonight… you need something to fill you. Let me finger you and get you ready to take my cock,” he coos. You whine and try to move his hand down lower where the throbbing is growing.

He slowly takes his index finger and puts it in your weeping hole. You had never been penetrated by someone and the feeling of his long finger inside you is overwhelming. His long, slender finger reaches deep inside you while staying firmly taught around him. You buck your hips up into him and cry out.

“Mmm fuck you’re so tight for me baby. I don’t know if you’re ready for my cock.” He teases.

“Make me ready… I want you to fuck me with more than just your fingers,” you beg and buck your hips into him more.

“Oh you fucking naughty girl,” he moans as he pumps his finger in and out of you watching as you are writhing on the bed. You can’t control the sounds that are coming out of your mouth and love the way he’s reaching parts of you that had never been explored. He curls and prods them to your never before touched walls and you swear you’re going to pass out. He enters another finger and you feel this coil in your belly tighten exponentially. He starts to move them faster and curls his fingers up into your walls. Your vision goes blurry for a second, being consumed by the pleasure he is giving you with his skilled fingers. Your walls begin to flutter and he smirks at this, pumping them faster.

“Oh, I love the way this pussy feels. Do you think you’re ready for me? Ready to take all this cock inside ya?” You realize he loves to tease as he says this and look down as he has his cock in his hand, slowly jerking it off while looking down hungrily at your leaking cunt.

You squeeze your eyes shut and let out a frustrated cry.

“Please Elvis,” he pulls his fingers out of you and places them in his mouth, moaning when he tastes your sweet honey. He licks them clean and grabs the back of your thighs to adjust your body. He has you wrap your legs around his waist and you cling onto his shoulders. He jerks his cock in his hand and teases your entrance with just the tip. Every last nerve in your body is on edge and you claw at his arms in anticipation.

“Just relax mama. I’ve got you. It might hurt a little since your cherry hasn’t been popped but I promise it’s gonna feel so good after.” He coos and places sultry kisses on your lips. You moan, ready for him to give you anything he wants.

He’s gentle, and slowly pushes the first few inches of his cock inside you. The way he is stretching you causes you to gasp. He’s so much bigger than you expected and your body doesn’t know what to do.

You cry out his name as he sets this slow, but insistent pace. He grabs one of your breasts in his large hand and squeezes and pinches your nipples in between your fingers. You moan more with the mix of pain and pleasure coursing through your body.

He put more inside you and you feel this sharp pain inside you and you wince. Tears well in your eyes as you try to take him. You cry out as he moves in and out of you carefully. He sees the pain you’re in and holds you tighter.

“Doing so good baby,” he caresses you.

He keeps you there locked with him, caressing your face and looking at you as if you were the only thing that mattered. Everything about this felt so natural. The nerves that were filling your body moments ago were slowly dissipating and you were just enjoying the moment with him inside you. He thrusts his hips, putting the last few inches inside you and you let out a loud moan. He keeps still as he enjoys seeing you like the way he’s making you feel.

“Such a good girl for me baby. Doing so good. Your cherry popped. It’s gonna feel so good now,” he says as you look down at his long length moving in and out of you. You see some light spotting of your blood around his shaft but the pleasure starts to build the more he’s moving. You watch as he rubs your clit and pushes the rest of his cock inside you again. You feel his balls hit your ass and he doesn’t move as he lets you adjust to the size of him.

“Oh fuck Elvis, you’re killing me holy fuck.” You cry out, gasping for breath.

“Mmm, yea baby? You like how this big cock fills you up?”

You claw at his back, needing him to move and help this never-ending pulsating in your core.

“God, yes I love it. Please give me more,” he nods his head and smiles down at you.

He begins to move his hips and the pain has disappeared. Nothing but pleasure is running through your veins. He moves with more rhythm as he bucks and swirls his hips into you. He places his thumb over your clit and starts to work at it.

Your eyes roll back and let the feeling of what he’s giving you take over your body.

“So goddamn tight for me baby. Taking this cock so well,” he grunts over you as he starts to fuck you faster.

You can’t stop the noises that are coming out of you, loving every second of how he’s fucking you and making you come apart on his cock. The sounds of your skin slapping against his and the wet noises coming from your pussy were driving you both crazy.

Your walls flutter and your whole body tenses. There’s panic in your eyes and Elvis knows it by the look on your face.

“It’s okay darlin I got you. You’re gonna come for me,” he commands and looks deep in your eyes. “I feel you ready to come apart all over me.”

Your whole body tenses and the heat of the orgasm washes over you over and over again. You scream out his name as your walls squeeze his girth. Your nails leave red marks down his back and he only fucks you harder. He lets out a deep, primal growl as he fucks you through your orgasm. You relish in the way this feels and can’t believe you’ve never even given yourself this feeling!

“Mmm fuck, such a good girl. Your pussy feels so good. Keep coming for me,” he pleads as his thumb works faster on your clit.

Your body feels like it’s never felt before. Feeling so light yet so on edge with the way his cock is filling you up and stretching you out. You watch as he lifts your hips up and continues to pound into you.

Taking this new position makes it feel completely different and love the way he’s hitting this particular part inside of you that makes you feel like you can cum all over again on him.

By the look on his face, he is loving every second of this. The way he bites his lower lip and the way sweat has formed on the sides of his temples. You watch as you see the veins on his neck pop out as he fucks you to the hilt.

His rhythm starts to become more sporadic and his eyebrows furrow as he tries to hold on a bit longer. You love the way he’s taking you and can’t get enough of how he fills you up. Your coil in your belly tightens gets again and you let your second orgasm take over your entire body. He groans loudly as you cum on him, squeezing the base of his cock.

“Ah hell, mama. I love it when you cum on me. I’m so close. Where’d you want me to cum?” He agonizingly says through his teeth.

Your brain races, fuzzy from your high of orgasm and unsure what to say. This has never happened before for you and weren't sure exactly what an orgasm would be like for him.

“I want you back in my mouth please Elvis,” you whine breathlessly.

He pulls out of you quickly and you groan at feeling so empty. Your arousal pools out of you and onto the comforter.

He re-adjusts your body by lifting you up underneath your arms and sits you up. He stands up on his knees and puts his cock in front of your lips. He takes his hand and jerks himself in front of you, placing his free hand on the back of your head.

“Open that mouth for me, baby, I’m gonna fill this mouth up,” your heart beats uncontrollably and you grab the back of his thighs, preparing yourself for whatever he is going to give you.

He leans his head back and his mouth opens as you feel hot, salty spurts of his cum land on your tongue and the back of your throat. He places more of his cock in your mouth and you lick the base of it, causing him to moan your name loudly.

“Oh fuck, oh god mama yes take this cock baby,” he groans in ecstasy. Your mouth fills with his cum and waits for him to come down from his high. You had never had this happen before so you don’t know what to do with his load.

He pulls out of your mouth, breathless from it all, and watches you with your mouth open for him, seeing the milky white substance coating your mouth.

“Such a good girl baby. Time to swallow,” he taps your chin and you close your mouth. You look up at him and swallow in one big gulp. The taste of his salty, thick load coated your throat and you have to swallow a few times to fully clear your throat.

He looks down at you pleased, looking at how you’re breathless too and your mascara running down your face.

“Mmm, such a hungry slut you are,” you groan, leaning down to kiss you. You moan into his mouth as he nips your bottom lip.

“Did you like that baby? Did I make you feel good?” He caresses your face, wiping the black streaks from your face.

“That was… incredible… I had no idea what to expect but it wasn’t that,” you say exasperated.

He has that cocky grin on his face you’ve seen so many times in pictures come to life and you wanted to wipe it right off of him.

“We’ll good darlin', that’s what I wanted for your first time,” he says tenderly and places a few soft kisses on your lips.

He gets off the bed and goes to grab you a towel. He gently rubs the wetness and blood off of you and himself. The way he is so tender yet so dominating throws you for a loop but you just sit back and enjoy the moment.

“Did you want to go back to the party? We can stay here, it’s completely up to you,” he asks as he hands you your dress.

“I wouldn’t mind going back to the party and having some food. I’m kinda hungry,” you say cutely. You start to get up off the bed and it suddenly hits you. Elvis ripped your panties off of you… you’re going to have to walk back into that party without any on.

“Elvis, how am I supposed to go back out there without any panties on! You completely ruined them!” You snicker.

He laughs at your disgruntled state.

“Correction darlin’, you ruined your panties, I just took them off of ya to help that needy pussy of yours,” he teases. “And besides, I like you better without them. You’ll just have to behave and not soak through your dress for the rest of the night,” he sneers as he grabs you by his hips and pushes you into him. A small groan escapes you and smile up at him.

“You wanna put money on that?” you wink at him.

Tagging 💖

@powerofelvis @plasticfantasticl0ver @burninlovebutlerr @ab4eva @cryingabtab @returntoelvis @kendralavon7 @peaceloveelvis @waiting4brucewayne2adoptme @woundmetender @thatbanditqueen @kaitaesupremacy @eliseinmemphis @alyssaraen @18lkpeters @lookingforrainbows @presleysdarling @marriedtopresley @presleyenterprise @missmaywemeetagain @succsessions @yagirlalexx

[rodolfoparras]

So yesterday marks the very first time I’ve posted a fic on here

I had written fics before but this was my first ever 18+ fic

Before I started writing for the cod fandom I had stuck to reading cod fics on ao3 specifically price pieces and I rmr one day wanting to read a fic where price teaches reader how to smoke cigars but I just knew there wasn’t an x male reader piece around so I decided to write it myself

I spent a month researching how to write smut trying to get a proper feel of price’s character and translate those very same traits into my own fic

And when I was completely done with it I almost didn’t post it but I did and I believe in one day I got 200 notes which was insane. I didn’t know how active people were on tumblr I really just wanted to create a price piece and do what I love which is writing

The next piece took 3 weeks before I posted it mostly because I was picking and poking at it but then I told myself you know if I’m going to be running a writing blog I have to write more often

So I pushed myself to write more often and back then I had just started to become fixated with price so I had plenty of ideas at hand

Slowly but surely I started to post more and more pieces and my blog started to grow. From April to maybe June month I had gotten two requests and maybe one ask where it was an anon who was just interested in talking to me and I rmr feeling over the moon about it

And then June month I started to grow rapidly like I really was there like whats going on 🧍🏻 i rmr the writers i looked up to became mutuals with me and i genuinely couldnt believe this was happening.

june- september i felt myself become more confident in my writing and i started to write like every 2-3 days and that’s when so many of you guys joined my blog and i rmr just being surprised that so many of you wanted to talk to me and that i went from one anonie to having a little council of yall

then november - February came around and that period is usually the worst for my mental l health but writing and having you guys show so much love not only for my work but also and it genuinely helped me so much

now its been a year of writing fics and im just really appreciative

also its so cool to be able to see how much ive grown how i went from spending a month on writing a fic to being able to produce pieces im actually proud of in the span of 3 days it's also fun to see how much knowledge ive gained by just writing like ill find myself reading pieces and im able to see minimal adjustment i can make that while make the scene flow whiles before id be questioning my grammar in every sentence

so what i want to say with this yapping is thank you guys and if youre someone who wants to get into ff writing pls do so

at first you'll feel like a weed in a garden but as times goes on you’ll realize how much you and your work has made the garden bloom🫶🏻

[thesummerstorms]

... the version of the story where:

Bruce fires Dick from Robin

Dick leaves to live somewhere else with Bruce still stonewalling him/not bothering to check in to see if he had a plan or would be safe

they don't talk for 18 months

when Dick finally checks in because of Jason, Bruce tells him that he missed him but then rejects him and kicks him out

would make Annabeth Wayne's abandonment issues and parental trust issues so much fucking worse, holy God.

Because everything on the demigod side is obviously still set up to mess with her sense of security and belonging, just like it did in canon, only Frederick Chase isn't in the picture. But Thalia still dies, Luke still leaves, her mother is still mostly absent and becomes someone whose pride and love Annabeth has to eat, there's the shit show meeting with Minerva followed by Arachne. That's all normal.

But if she essentially had Dick as a beloved older brother but then one day she woke up and Bruce was no longer even acknowledging him anymore? No more Robin, sure, but also not talking to Dick when Dick packs up and leaves? Not talking to or about Dick after? And Annabeth never sees them in the same room again, or at least not for years?

Dick who fandom likes to portray as the "golden child" and who Annabeth probably would have looked up to, especially with the age difference?

Young Annabeth (I think she'd be about four in my AU if Jason died when she was seven, but that timing is tricky; probably not older than five though) is absolutely not old enough to pick up on any nuances like Bruce's guilt or fear or Dick being old enough he was approaching the age of needing to "leave the nest".

To her those 18 months are going to seem more like Bruce just stopped caring about her older brother than anything, even if Bruce, Dick, or Alfred tried to tell her otherwise. Which... I'm not sure they have the emotional intelligence to express that anyway, but still.

And like, I do think her presence changes things at least a little. I think Dick would try to at least call. In canon, it's just Alfred and Bruce and he refuses to call before Bruce does. He probably still won't talk to Bruce on the phone. But possibly he calls Alfred to talk to Annabeth...even if the calls grow more and more infrequent due to the lifestyle of a vigilante and sheltered young Anna being "safe" and not seeming to need as many check ins.

But it isn't the same... And I think Annabeth would feel that, no matter how young. Even once Jason comes and she isn't the only child ... I think she would remember. Be watching. Because if it happened with Dick, whats to stop Bruce deciding he doesn't care about her or Jason anymore?

(Again, we as readers know he does, but he's fucked up in his emotional expression. A young child does NOT know that.)

It's then made worse if Bruce freezes her out after Jason's death. Jason and Bruce leave for other countries, leaving her alone with Alfred. Bruce returns, but Jason doesn't. Bruce is consumed by grief and anger and isolates himself from his young daughter.

Again, we as readers can infer his complex motivations. A child would not.

I think by the time you get to Minerva in that scenario? Some tiny part of Annabeth, a part she hates, is almost relieved.

Because she's been waiting for the other shoe to drop, for her mother's judgement on worthy/unworthy to come down in the negative, for her mother to reject her.

Because from her perspective, outside of anything the audience knows that she doesn't... That just what parents are like.

[local-redhead-bookworm]

Some of the people in the Stranger Things fandom are absolute boneheads. I don’t care about whatever degree in psychology you have, if you think an 18-year-old boy who

was abandoned by his mother and left to live with his abusive father

was actively being abused up until he got flayed

had clear abandonment issues

showed behaviors that could easily fall into anxiety and/or PTSD or CPTSD

was groomed by a woman old enough to be his mom

was possessed by the Mind Flayer and was robbed of all bodily autonomy

sacrificed himself for the first person to show him kindness and compassion

used his final words to apologize to his sister

deserves to die, then you didn’t pay enough attention in those psychology classes, you don’t understand how abuse shapes people and the different effects it can have, and you should never, ever be allowed to practice. You don’t deserve a license if you think someone is undeserving of help.

“He was racist” debatable. Dacre has expressly stated he didn’t play Billy as racist, in spite of the Duffers’ initial attempts to write him that way, the original script even including “a far nastier piece of language” in regard to Lucas. Even the Duffers aren’t 100% sure if Billy is racist. And if Billy is racist, this is a small conservative Midwest town in the 80s and Billy is a Californian. He’s definitely not the worst one there. Most importantly, racism is learned and can be unlearned.

“He’s abusive” highly unlikely. The most we see is him yelling at Max once and grabbing her wrist once. This is all just after a very sudden move too, which inevitably makes things strained between family members. Even Max says that Billy wasn’t behaving that way before the move. Also if he was as abusive as y’all say he is, she wouldn’t be flipping him off, back-talking him, snooping around his room, and talking about him like he’s her annoying gross older brother. If he were abusive, she would be more scared of him.

“He tried to run over the kids” do you really think he would have risked jail time? Really? If he had actually wanted to run them over, Max wouldn’t have been able to turn the wheel.

“He tried to get with a married woman” I think you mean that a grown woman with a husband and children was sexually interested in an underaged boy and pursued him for nine months, was willing to have sex with him as soon as he was legal, stalked him to the point of having his work schedule memorized, and showed up at his workplace just so she could ogle him. It doesn’t matter that Billy initiated the flirting, Karen is an adult and she knows better. She only backed out because she didn’t want to ruin her own cushy life by sleeping with Billy, not because she realized that sleeping with a boy young enough to be her son was wrong.

“He’s homophobic” he’s quite literally not. There’s zero indication of that. He’s actually one of only three characters to be called a homophobic slur (the other two being Will and Jonathan). You’re making things up now.

Your arguments are boring and baseless, and your treatment of anyone who likes Billy is abominable. The sheer amount of horrendous things I’ve seen my friends be called because they like Billy (racial slurs, victim blaming, weight shaming, suicide baiting, saying they deserved the abuse they experienced, wishing death and rape on them) is actually disgusting. Behave like civilized people, stay in your lane, and if something upsets you that much, don’t interact with it.

[1dfangirls35]

I’ve been finding myself wanting to write down just what I’ve been thinking over the past 48 hours and who better to share them with then the former community I have through this blog.

I remember the day I learned about One Direction distinctly. While I think I had heard WMYB on the radio, it was another girl in my yearbook class watching the music video on YouTube my sophomore year of high school that subsequently lead me to stay up watching Funny Moments videos on my KindleFire late into the night. There was no going back after that.

It is hard to articulate precisely what One Direction means to me. I often joke that it’s a part of my personality at this point- much to my mother’s dismay of me never growing out of the “phase”. I lived and breathed One Direction throughout my last two and a half years of high school. Watching videos, writing fanfiction, sending fangirl Fridays to my friends, and even starting this blog. Through this band I made not only a best friend, but a community of worldwide fans. In the good old days, nothing could make me happier than staying up to listen to a new album (leaked more than likely), the boys tweeting out or going to a concert. That kind of pure happiness is something that I don’t think I have experienced to the same level in my adult life.

While I was always a Louis girl, this blog was started with a Lilo focus- with my friend at that time being a Liam fan. I have always viewed Liam as a strong foundation to the band- especially in the early days. “Daddy Directioner” always guiding them. His songwriting has also been part of many of my favorite tracks.

When Zayn left my freshman year of college, I truly thought that would be the worst day in the One Direction fandom, perhaps second only to the day they announced their 18 month hiatus. But soon I learned there was a whole new aspect to being a fan as each of the boys launched their solo careers. While some members of the fandom broke off and supported individual members, I stayed true to OT5 and was so looking forward to going to each one of their solo concerts.

The dream of course, was that one day they would reunite. 20 year old me thought that would be in less than 2 years, but as each anniversary passed, I started to have a new dream about the reunion. I had my savings account accumulating and knew that when the announcement came, that experience would be priceless. I didn’t care if I was in a nursing home or raising a baby I would be there. I looked forward to the feeling I would get when they announced a reunion or dropped an unreleased album- even if it didn’t happen until I was old and decrepit.

On Wednesday I learned there was a new worst day to be in the fandom- and that was the day I learned of Liam’s tragic passing. There would never be an OT5 reunion in the way that many of us dreamed of and more importantly we had lost a piece of the band.

I think the thing people in the fandom don’t understand is even though I’ve never met Liam- I still feel like he’s been incredibly influential to my life. It’s weird to grieve someone you’ve never met but yet means so much to you. One Direction and even the boys solo work has been a comfort to me at many stressful times. If I’m having a bad day it’s always my One Direction Forever playlist I turn to. I still can’t believe he’s gone. That I will never get to see him perform Strip That Down Live or throw water at Louis on stage again. There will never be a One Direction reunion- not in the way we have dreamed of.

As I’ve gotten older I’ve realized just how much these boys must have went through at the peak of One Direction. I look at myself between the 16-22 and see how little I knew at that age and how different of a person I was. I can’t even imagine what they went through with that level of fame at such a young age. We will never know what really happened to Liam. There were be speculations and autopsies and eye witness reports but the only person who knew what was going on in those hours leading up to his death is no longer with us. I only wish that he can now see the outpouring of love and support to a boy who shaped millions of lives around the world.

This tragedy is powerful reminder of the power of social media in both his negatives and positives. It’s a reminder that social media can be a harmful and toxic environment. But I’ve also realized over the past 48 hrs that social media can be a powerful tool for connection and community. My TikTok feed is full of memories of Liam and 1D. I’m in a groupchat for girls in my city setting up a tribute. Our fandom still continues to amaze me.

My heart aches for Liam’s friends and family. For Bear. For Niall, Harry, Louis and Zayn. I can’t even imagine what they are going through right now. I hope that even if this tragedy never leads us to a formal reunion between the remaining four, that this reconnects them together. I hope Liam is in a better place now and that all his pain and suffering are gone.

Take care of each other, take care of your friends and let us remember Liam as a boy that changed our lives forever. Let us remaninsce on all the joy he brought to our lives. One Direction isn’t One Direction without him 🥲.

Rest In Peace Payno

[wrongcaitlyn]

very random question but what do you think is "THE" nico lyric in tyt? like, the one that would go trending in those tiktoks that are just someone lying down sad or stuff (idk if im explaining myself, i mean like this) or like the lyric 90% of angels have tattooed?

also i need you to know that my mind has been occupied w the idea of sadie, alex and nico winning best new artist, best alt album and aoty at the same grammys awards (graveyard, tgw and alex fierro would all be released in time for the same grammys, right? idk im so bad w this stuff) for the past week. (i feel bad for thinking abt nico on a grammys setting but hey he mentioned assisting on chapter 18 and i need him to have a healing positive experience /nf)

OKAY OKAY SO SORRY THAT THIS TOOK SO LONG TO RESPOND BC I HAD TO PROPERLY THINK ABOUT IT THIS IS IMPORTANT

my first instinctual thought is "always an angel, never a god" which i do think is definitely one of THE lyrics. like. everyone knows it. it's everything to the fandom. it's everything to nico. i honestly think that lyric sums up nico's lyricism in general so well like??

but that was only recently released, so im gonna choose a lyric from each album,,, just bc i can

for haunted, the forever underrated album, i think it'd either have to be from long sleeves, the fandom favorite, or for symbolism, "i'm your ghost right now your house is haunted" from i know it won't work. for long sleeves i think it's less so of a standout lyric, more just a standout song, but also "it's been a long time coming" just fits a lot of different scenarios... very healing acceptance sorta vibes

then from doomsday, i don't think there's necessarily a lyric that i feel like a lot of people would get tattooed, but i DO think that this is me trying is like. THE song from that album. i think it's just such an easy song to resonate with, especially in nico's depressed as hell fandom. so this one is less so they have a tattoo of it and more so they have a wallpaper with the quote "i've been having a hard time adjusting, had the shiniest wheels now they're rusting" bc yk that'll always hit hard. and also "you're a flashback in a film reel" which is soooooo

then for future albums... no spoilers okay but im just gonna count them in my head. 2 from nda4. 1 from nda5. 3 from nda6. 6 from nda7.

but final final answer: always an angel, never a god

(also this has me cackling thinking about people who may have gotten tattoos in relation to apollo in the past, and he's just like. wiping all of that from existence. well not LITERALLY but like he's making it very very clear that anyone who supports all his old music is a shithead and so you've got old fans being like shit shit shit)

and then OH MY GOD??sdLFKJSDF THAT WOULD BE SO FUN AGHHSDFJSD you have actually just made me realize that. yes. they will be in the same eligibility period... for some reason i was convinced that graveyard was a year before tgw and alex's self-titled so that's like... WOAH. THEY'RE ACTUALLY COMING SO SOON?? i write down these dates in my outline and im like haha yea that's months away and then like. its actually coming soon. anyway im not entirely sure if alex's will make the cut (as in, i think i may have been planning on him releasing it in fall of 2020, which would be past the eligibility period,,,, but then the thought of them all being nominated for stuff..... god thats so excitingskdljf)

unfortunately i do have some plans for like which albums/people will be winning things, HOWEVER... i will definitely be excited to write the 2021 grammys bc. grammys shenanigans with the iconic trio. love them sm.

[ladamedusoif]

Visiting - Chapter 9: Open Your Eyes

(Moodboard by @cutesyscreenname)

Pairing: Professor!Ben (College AU) x OFC Lydia/fem!Reader (reader POV/2nd POV)

Summary: Seeking a change of scenery after her life falls apart, Lydia crosses the Atlantic and arrives in a small New England town, to spend a year expanding her intellectual horizons as a visiting professor of art history at a small liberal arts college. Her growing friendship with Ben Morales, professor of Hispanic literature, forces Lydia to confront the fallout from her past - and raises unexpected questions about the future.

Chapter summary: It's the new year and the new semester. Reunited in Barrow for the first time since her hasty departure, Lydia and Ben have some talking to do.

Word Count: 10.2k (they have a lot to get through!)

Rating: Explicit (MDNI; 18+)

Content (chapter specific): Professor Ben College AU; smaller-than-usual-for-this-fandom age gap (Lydia is 42, and Ben is 47); canon is not a thing here; slow burn; idiots-to-lovers; smut; fingering; PiV sex; strong language; alcohol consumption; weight and body insecurity; serious self-esteem issues; references to panic attacks and anxiety disorders; references to past infidelity (not by Ben or Lydia); angst central.

A/N: The title of this chapter is inspired by something Ben says to Lydia, which then made me think of this song by Snow Patrol. The video is a slightly edited version of C'était un rendez-vous, a 1976 short by the French director Claude Lelouch, so I feel that it fits this pair of idiots on multiple levels. (I frickin' love this film and I think it works gorgeously for the song.)

Thank you to everyone who's shown so much love for this pair so far - every comment, reblog, like, interaction, ask is just a joy to me.

Further A/N at the end of the chapter.

See the Series Masterlist for an outline of Lydia's story and background.

Cross-posting to AO3.

Chapter 8 - Chapter 10

@lunapascal and @julesonrecord - this has been a tough chapter, again, and I've needed the guidance and encouragement along the way. Thank you, as always, for your love for the dorksicles as well as your incredibly wise and insightful suggestions and editorial eyes. Bendie are forever thankful. You may well spot some of your specific suggestions in this chapter...

Taglist:

@lunapascal, @julesonrecord, @cutesyscreenname, @tessa-quayle, @vermillionwinter, @iamskyereads, @tieronecrush, @perennialdoll247, @love-the-abyss, @imaswellkid, @intheorangebedroom, @javierisms, @fuckyeahdindjarin, @littlemisspascal, @khindahra, @pedrostories, @readingiskeepingmegoing, @ruebyretro, @rhoorl, @red-red-rogue, @princessanglophile, @katareyoudrilling

Your father interpreted your tears at the airport in January as homesickness. 

“Just think, Lyd, it’s only a few more months, really.” He pats your arm, reassuring you as he always has. “And then you’ll be back over this side of the pond again and back to your real job and your normal life. And not so far away from all of us!”

You cried into his shoulder as you hovered near the entrance to the security screening area. 

A final hug, a wipe of your tears, a brave face, and a wave goodbye. 

You were homesick, or something like it. In this case, though, you were homesick for someone, not somewhere; homesick for him, for his smile, his kindness, his eyes, his careful embrace, his humour, his gentle strength. 

And you were sick to your stomach with the constant, nagging fear that you had already destroyed that new and fragile home, all by yourself.

You knew he wouldn’t be back in Barrow until just before teaching resumed for the new semester - a long-standing plan to make additional use of his time on the west coast by getting some research done in specialist libraries. 

You are torn between relief at not having to see him yet, not having to deliver your promised explanation, and feeling deeply anxious about the impact of the prolonged separation on Ben’s feelings towards you. He had suggested before Christmas that space was needed, and you’d agreed. The more significant that space became, however, the more you worried.

It wasn’t as if you were back in normal contact. Save for an exchange on New Year’s Eve, when you’d received a message from him sent at exactly midnight your time (and you reciprocated, setting your alarm so that you would wake just before midnight California time to send the message), there’d been next to no communication. 

Kate reassures you via FaceTime. “Lyd, calm down. Like I said at Christmas, if this is all it takes to change his feelings then it’s a doomed enterprise.”

“I think it might be a doomed enterprise anyway, what with me having to go back to my job over there in September.”

She rolls her eyes. “Alright, Apocalypse Lyd. Go on, catastrophise all you want. Not like anyone ever did a long-distance relationship or anything. Have you seen him yet?”

You shake your head. “He’s on research in California - pre-planned. Not back until next week.”

“You ready to talk it out?”

You pause, close your eyes, and take a deep breath. “Honestly? I won’t know until I see him again.”

“Happy New Year, Lydia!”

No such thing as January blues as far as Susan is concerned. You reach into your tote bag to retrieve a box of candies you’d picked up as a gift for her. “How were the holidays? I hope you got a well-deserved rest.”

You can hear her sincere expressions of gratitude and surprise as she starts to answer your question, but your mind is elsewhere. You cast your eyes along the rows of wooden cubby holes, each labelled with a staff member’s name.

B.E. MORALES

The sight of his full name makes your heart hurt. 

“…and that is why Nick’s mother is never doing the holidays with us again, so help me.” Susan pauses. “Lydia, are you okay? Don’t take this personally, but you look terrible.”

Hard not to take that personally, Susan.

You try to rearrange your features into something resembling a smile. “It’s probably just jet lag or something. And I had my hands full at home with the niblings - they’re both under four so…” you make a goofy face and shrug your shoulders, hoping to distract from the bags under your eyes and your worn-out complexion. 

Susan studies you for a moment and then beams. “Been there, done that! Nothing a cup of coffee won’t fix.”

Shit. The mention of coffee conjures up a mental image of Ben at your office door, armed with the two mugs. When you remember the smile on his face that last day you scrunch up your eyes, as if in pain. 

You fucked it up, Lyd.

The rest of the week passes in a grey haze. You oscillate between anxiety and profound sadness, cortisol rushing through your veins as you try to work out how you can fix it, and then a feeling of absolute exhaustion as you realise you probably can’t. Your to-do list mounts, unable even to distract yourself with work. 

The worst part is the knowledge that you did this. You’ve got no one else to blame. You freaked out. You ran away. You wrote your stupid note and you left him, all because you didn’t want to give in to the reality of your feelings - and the risk of loss that always comes with that.

Of course you fucked it up. You always do. You’re broken. Who would ever want you?

With a week to go before teaching, you lock into preparation mode. It’s a useful distraction, checking reading lists, planning seminar and workshop outlines, and catching up with some of your students who’ve already returned to campus. 

You arrange a tutorial with Nia, one of the students in the additional workshop groups run as part of Ben’s equality and diversity initiative, to discuss her initial plans for an “un-essay” assignment - a form of assessment that allows the student to respond to the brief in any number of creative ways. 

Her un-essay ideas include a reflective piece on food in poetry by Black women writers - with accompanying dishes. She’s a bright, smart girl, keen to tell you all the books she read over the break and compare notes on your choice of holiday movies.

Just before she leaves your office, she picks up her tote bag and rummages inside, producing a pretty, round tin and placing it on your desk. 

“Made you some of my peanut butter cookies. I noticed you like Reese’s, so I assumed you might like these, too.”

You beam at Nia, heart swelling at the sweet thoughtfulness of her gesture. “You’re so kind! I can’t wait to try these.”

She reciprocates your smile as she heads to the door. “There’s plenty there for you and Professor Ben to share. See you in class!”

Wait. What? Did the students think… shit. Maybe she just said that because he ran the programme. That was probably it. 

You open the tin, take out a cookie, and try not to think about it.

ANI: Hey Lyd! I’m just in the neighbourhood, you home? 

LYDIA: Yep, just putting away some laundry. You want to pop by?

ANI: Great! See you soon.

You buzz Ani in, leaving your front door open as usual once you hear their steps on the stairs. “Hey, Lyd. Just thought I’d call round to say hi,” Ani explains, taking off their big winter coat and hanging it on the coat rack in the hallway. 

“You want some tea? Or something stronger?”

Ani nods, settling themselves on your couch. “Tea would be amazing.” 

“Sure thing.” You continue the conversation from your tiny kitchen. Ani reminds you of the drinks party at Jen’s house on Friday night, in two days’ time - it’s her wife, Rachel’s, birthday, and she’s invited some faculty colleagues. 

Given how close she is to Ben, having joined the faculty at the same time, he’ll almost certainly be there - assuming he’s back by then. You feel nauseous. 

Ani gratefully takes their cup of hot tea - made strong, as they prefer - crosses their legs, and looks at you with what you suspect is concern. “Lyd, are you doing okay?”

“Why’d you ask?”

They sigh, placing the steaming cup down on the coffee table as you join them on the couch. “Lyd, you’ve been completely out of sorts since you came back. And I’m pretty sure it’s not just homesickness, as you claimed when Evan asked you if you were okay earlier this week.”

You open your mouth, ready to protest, but Ani shakes their head and places a hand on your knee to still you.

“We’re worried about you, Lyd. Obviously, it’s up to you what you do or don’t want to tell me, but just know that I am here for you. That we’re here for you.”

You sip your tea and nod, averting your eyes. 

Ani purses their lips, hands wrapped around their cup. “I could be way off with this, and yell at me if I am. But - Lyd, is there - was there - something happening between you and Ben?”

You stare at the floor, afraid you’ll give too much away in your expression if you look at them directly. 

“Lydia? If I’ve got this wrong, tell me. If it’s something else…”

Your voice is almost inaudible. “It’s not. I mean, you’re not wrong. That is… yeah. How did you know?”

Ani sips their tea, allowing themselves a little smile. “I mean I didn’t know know, I just had a feeling. I knew you guys were close but it’s academia, y’know? That’s not unusual, and he really wanted to help you settle in. But then we went out for your birthday, that’s what made me really wonder.”

You raise your eyebrows, still hunched up staring at the floor. They take their phone out of their bag, swiping through their photo album back through the weeks and months to your birthday weekend. “Look, we’re academics - we love the evidence, we search for proof. So here’s my source.”

Ani presses play on a video that, at first glance, is a selfie of them dancing at the bar with Evan, making faces into the camera. 

“Lyd, look at the action in the background.”

Even the slightly out-of-focus footage has captured the huge smiles on both your faces as Ben reaches for you and you move together in time with the music. He beams at you, eyes crinkling as he laughs when you throw in an extra move. Your eyes are shining. Your joy is so obvious, so beautiful after so many years of numbness and hurt, and so painful knowing what you would do to him just a few weeks later. 

Ani breaks the silence and tries to lighten the mood. “Basically, since then I’ve been waiting for you guys to finally wise up and just fuck. It took ages to convince Ev, for some reason. I think he was pissed that I saw it first. And then it turned out that David was on the ball first. Evan was furious.” You huff a laugh, covering your face with your free hand. 

“When I heard you’d spent Thanksgiving together, I thought the Eagle had landed. Wrong, of course.”

“We, um - we did kiss on Thanksgiving. But we thought it was by mistake.”

Ani rolls their eyes. “Jesus fuckin’ Christ. Fucking dorks. Fucking idiots, in fact.”

You giggle in spite of yourself. “And - David. He saw it in how we were together. He - he told me he thought Ben had feelings for me a couple of days before I went home for the holidays, and -”

“And I think he might have told Ben the same, to help you two realise. Or at least, to help you act on what you already knew.” Their voice is gentle and kind. “Are you going to tell me what happened?”

“I…shit.” You stammer, tripping over your words and trying not to cry. “I did something really fucking stupid. I ruined it, like I always do, and now I can’t fix it and -“

The tears start to fall. 

“I don’t know what to do. I… he’s really hurt. I hurt him, Ani. I care about him so much and I fucking hurt him. I don’t think I can make it right.”

Ani wraps an arm around you, pulling you in for a hug.

“Start at the beginning, Lyd. And whatever happened, you probably can fix this, you know?”

Ani puts their hands on your shoulders as you stand on Jen and Rachel’s doorstep. Their dark eyes are serious but kind, their face framed by an enormous black faux fur Cossack hat.

“What do you got, Lyd?”

You bite your lip. “I…I got this.”

“You got this. Let’s go, girl.”

At first, you think he didn’t come. You move through the hallway into Jen and Rachel’s spacious, open-plan living and dining room, scanning the clusters of guests for a familiar face. A mixture of relief and disappointment floods your brain. You can relax now, right? In search of a drink, you head for the kitchen, and -  

He’s talking animatedly to a couple of colleagues from literature, those kind eyes crinkling behind his glasses as he smiles and laughs. He’s wearing a plaid Henley shirt in a sort of blue and purple flannel, with a dark blue cardigan over it. Hair neat, but long enough to brush the top of his shirt collar. As gorgeous as you remembered - more so, even. 

Your heart races and your stomach leaps at the sight of him. Sure, you’re nervous. But it’s not just that. The physical symptoms of anxiety have much in common with the physiological manifestations of sexual and romantic attraction, after all, and a quick glance at him is enough to confirm just how bad you have it.

You reach for a glass of red wine from the selection of drinks set out on the kitchen island, and you beat a hasty retreat before he spots you. 

He saw you, of course. He’s been watching and waiting for you, observing the other guests just as you’d done, simultaneously hoping and fearing he would look up and meet your gaze across the room. 

Now that you’re there, he’s not entirely sure what he should do. Like you, he’s wary of confrontation, of taking action and getting it ‘wrong’, without knowing the consequences ahead of time. 

But, despite the slight thaw caused by your sporadic contact over the break, he’s also hurt and more than a little stubborn. You left with just a note. You casually brushed off the night you spent together, in spite of everything he tried to show you about how he felt about you. Surely you needed to make the first move now? 

Even so, his heart lifts when he sees you across the room. Photos on his phone don’t do you justice, don’t capture the way you move, the way your eyes catch the light, the essential you-ness that he has been so enamoured with. 

He decides not to let on that he’s noticed you. 

Ani catches up with you near one of the floor-to-ceiling fitted bookshelves that line the living room. “I know it’s easier to just hide here feigning interest in their book collection, Lyd, but -”

“I’m not feigning interest! I’m curious about other people’s books.” You tilt your head and continue reading the titles from the spines, until Ani moves their body between you and the books.

“Lydia. I swear to fucking God. He’s right fucking there,” Ani hisses, jerking their head in the direction of the kitchen. “I will march you in there and I will make you talk to each other.”

You can feel your palms getting clammy, and you place your wine glass down on a coaster in case it slips from your nervous grasp. “And what do I say, Ani? How do I do this? It’s not exactly private…”

They nod over at Rachel, who’s just come into the room, smiling and mouthing birthday wishes before turning back to you. “You’re a forty-two year old woman with a PhD, Lyd. It’s not beyond your capabilities to ask him to speak to you outside, or in their guest bathroom, or bedroom, or wherever.” Their tone is irritated, and you close your eyes as if shielding yourself from further hurt. 

“Lyd, I’m sorry. I don’t mean to be harsh. It’s just - come on. We talked about this. I know exactly what you feel for him. I have a hunch he feels the same for you - everything you said suggests it. You fucking care so much about each other.” They inhale deeply, lightly reaching for your hand. “Why not just tell him? From what you said about that night, you made it pretty clear you were into him, and vice versa.”

You open your eyes and meet Ani’s kind expression. “And if it’s what I fear? What if all the space we’ve had has convinced him nothing more can happen?”

They squeeze your hand. “Neither of us know what he’s going to say. But you’ve been through so much worse, Lyd. You survived the kind of shit that could destroy some people. So, if it’s bad now - well, you’ll survive again. And if it’s good -”

“Then I have to leave it all behind in a few months, when the fellowship is done.”

Ani cocks an eyebrow. “Now you’re just making fucking excuses. Come on,” they take your hand and usher you towards the dining table, laid out with snacks, “let’s get some chips and dip first. Call it sustenance for the campaign ahead.”

Ani’s strategy, it transpires, is to take one of the vintage Chip n’ Dip dishes and to saunter into the kitchen with it, moving steadily towards the cluster of literature professors as you trail behind. 

They greet your colleagues enthusiastically and starts passing around the food. You can feel your face starting to burn as you try to cast a glance at Ben, to gauge his mood from the look on his face. You furtively take in his expression, and it breaks your heart. From the smiling, talkative man you’d seen when you arrived, his eyes have darkened and his lips are set in a firm line. 

Ani quietly nudges you, encouraging you to make the first move and break through the invisible shield he’s placing between the two of you. 

Your mouth is dry and your palms are clammy as you start to speak to him. You try not to think about the last time you’d seen him. “H-h-hi. D-did you enjoy the holidays?”

He turns slightly towards you, still avoiding looking at you directly. “They were good. Nice to be with family.” He sighs and takes a large sip of his wine. 

Silence. It’s all you can do to avoid your natural tendency to fill the gap with rambling chit-chat. You nudge him slightly out of the group to avoid being overheard.

“Could we talk, just for a few minutes? I need to -“

At this, he finally makes eye contact with you, and the hurt in his brown eyes is almost more than you can bear. He responds quietly but firmly. 

“You want to talk? You want to talk, here? Now? At a party?” He sounds incredulous.

“I told you I’d explain, and I told you it would be easier to do that face to face. So, here we are.” You bite the inside of your cheek to stop yourself from starting to cry or lashing out, channeling your anxiety and irritation into sarcasm. “Forgive me for taking this rare opportunity to have a very important conversation with you,” you hiss.

He huffs and rolls his eyes. “I don’t know what you really need to say, anyway,” he mutters quietly, “you made your feelings clear.” His expression is hard as he steps away and moves to walk out of the kitchen. In a reflex action, you reach out and lightly touch his wrist. He turns back for a moment.

“I told you I was sorry and that I could explain. That note… that’s not my feelings.” You drop your head to stare at the floor, before lifting it back to meet his gaze. “If you want to talk to me, I’ll be out at the front porch, okay? I need some fresh air, anyway. But I also really want a chance to talk. Please.” 

And he’s gone. 

You didn’t think through the whole ‘outdoor chat’ thing. New England January nights are colder than anything you’ve regularly experienced before, and you have been sitting on the front steps of Jen and Rachel’s home for what feels like forever. In truth, it’s been about ten minutes - but the more time that goes by without any sign of Ben, the more you despair. Although you’re snuggled into your bulky winter coat, face barely visible underneath your warm, red cable-knit hat and scarf set, the cold is starting to bite. 

You tug off a glove and reach into your pocket for your phone, composing a message for Ani:

Hey. I asked him to come out and talk but he doesn’t want to. I’m going home - just can’t be in there. I’m sorry - please apologise to Rachel and Jen for me, say I’m sick or something. x

You start off down the path from the front door to the pavement, double-checking the route on your phone. The house isn’t too far away from your apartment building, and a walk might help clear your head. 

“You’re fucking kidding me.” 

The snowflakes cling to your coat and hat, the flurries intensifying quickly. You swipe open the app on your phone, fingers stiff in the freezing weather. No cabs. 

“Fuck this.”

As you round the block and head for home, the tears start to fall, soaking into the woollen scarf wrapped around your mouth. 

“Where’s Lyd? Did you talk to her?” 

Ani finds Ben sitting cross-legged on the floor in front of the shelves displaying Rachel’s substantial record collection, flipping through the vinyls as if he’s looking for something in particular. 

He isn’t. He just can’t bear trying to be normal and socialise with everyone else again, not after seeing you. There’s an ache in his chest as he thinks about the pleading look in your eyes when you asked him to come and hear what you had to say. 

His stomach churns as he wonders if you’re still waiting for him. 

He feigns interest in a copy of Blonde on Blonde, staring at the liner notes like he’s never seen the record before in his life. “She said she wanted to talk, that she’d meet me outside, but I - I couldn’t.”

Ani looks murderous and runs a hand over their dark curls.  

“You couldn’t? Or wouldn’t?”

“Does it matter? Given that you’re asking about this, I’m assuming you know what happened.”

Ani scoots down to sit beside Ben on the floor. Their voice is low but intense. They are not mincing their words.

“I know what happened. I know that she messed up. I have told her she messed up. She knows she messed up. But I also know why she messed up and that you need to hear her out. If not for your sake or her sake, then for all our sakes. I can’t take much more of the two of you moping around like this.”

He shrugs. Ani rolls their eyes.

“So help me, Benjamin Morales, you can be a stubborn fucking asshole.” 

Ben furrows his brow and sucks his teeth. 

Jen appears, her attention caught by the sight of Ani visibly berating Ben from their spot on the floor. “Have you spoken to Lydia, Ben?”

Ani raises their brows. “How did you know?”

Jen waves her hand, as if exasperated by her old friend. “I had my suspicions, eventually got it out of him earlier this week, now he’s being an idiot because he’s not doing what I told him and going to speak to Lyd.” She looks around her living room. “Where is Lyd?”

“Outside,” Ben mutters. 

Jen, face like thunder, pokes him in the back with the toe of her block-heeled boot. “I love you like a brother but if you don’t get the fuck out and find that woman, I will never speak to you again.”

You wrap your scarf tighter around your face, trying to shield yourself from the increasingly heavy snowfall. You have never been so grateful for the solid strength and warmth of your dark red Dr Martens. 

Thank fuck I wore jeans and a blouse, you think. Could have been the wrap dress. 

You pause for a moment to give your face a break from the onslaught of the snow and wind, turning your back to the persistent flurries. 

“LYD?”

At first, you think you’re imagining it. It’s a noise on the wind, whipping snow at your face and burying your heart cold and deep.

“LYDDIE?”

That is definitely not a noise on the wind. 

You turn around to see Ben steadily walking towards you, his black Dr Martens shoes crunching through the fresh snow that’s already covering your footprints. 

He’s wearing the merino wool watchcap you made him for Christmas, the Prussian blue perfectly complementing the navy wool of his pea coat. A little voice inside you pipes up that he couldn’t hate you, at least, if he was wearing something you’d made for him with your own two hands. 

“What the hell, Lyd?” He’s beside you, now, covered in a dusting of snow, big dark eyes staring intently into yours from behind his slightly fogged-up spectacles. “What are you doing out here?”

You are physically shaking with nerves and cold. “I wanted to talk to you, I wanted to explain, I told you where I would be, and…” you sniffle, glad of the snow as an excuse for your tears and red eyes, “And you didn’t even want to hear it. You didn’t even want to talk to me.” Your teeth chatter. “So…so I d-d-decided to g-g-go h-h-h-home.”

You wipe at your eyes with your gloved hands. “Stupid snow makes m-m-me cry,” you offer, by way of an explanation.

He doesn’t quite know why he does it. Maybe it’s his own need for reassurance, his instinctive urge to give you comfort, or maybe it’s the fact that, deep down, he’s missed you. 

Ben steps closer to you and wraps his arms around you, pulling you to him for a hug. 

“I’m so sorry, Lyd.” He holds you tightly for a moment before pulling away. “I was being a dick. I do want to talk.”

“I’m g-g-going home. Come with me if you want, and hear m-me out.”

“Okay. Fuck, it’s freezing.” He reaches into his coat pocket for his phone. 

“No cabs. It’s not that far.”

He nods. You reach over, instinctively, doing up the top button on his coat and pulling the knitted hat a little more firmly over his ears. 

He brings a gloved hand to meet yours, and for a moment you think he’s going to push you away. Instead, he gives your hand a little squeeze. 

“Let’s go.”

“Okay, heating is on, thermostat’s up, kettle is boiling to make some coffee - um, I know this is going to sound weird, but are you hungry? I think I had a single tortilla chip to eat at Jen’s.”

Ben is standing at the door of your tiny kitchen, an old, baggy hoodie of yours over his shirt and cardigan as an extra layer of heat, arms crossed over his chest and hands rubbing his upper arms as he tries to warm up. 

“I’m fucking s-s-starving.”

You have an urge to wrap your arms around him and get warm by sharing your body heat. But you haven’t even talked about it, yet. 

“Okay, well…” You poke your head into the fridge and freezer in succession. “I’ve got a frozen pizza.”

“F-f-fucking perfect.”

It all feels a little too normal as you sit in the living area with your coffees, waiting for the pizza to cook. You’ve wrapped yourself in your crocheted blanket while you warm up, legs tucked under you on the couch and hands gripping your mug for warmth. 

“I feel like I should be starting to explain,” you say, glancing down at your coffee. 

Ben shakes his head. “Let’s eat, first, and then we can talk. Better not to do that hungry.”

There’s still a few minutes before the pizza will be done. You try to make the most of these moments of “normality”, before you have to try to explain your actions to him and hope that he feels the same as you. 

“I did love your holiday makeover, by the way.”

He turns to look at you, a little smile creeping across his lips.

“You know I only got the polish off two days before I came back? Glitter is resilient.” He laughs to himself. “I think Jules liked doing it, though. How’s your gift-wrap injury?”

“Healed up. More worrying is the fact I don’t think I’ve located all of the stickers Cora put on my person over the break. I’m concerned one will turn up in some strange part of my body.”

Ben raises his eyebrows. “If I spot any unexpectedly I’ll be sure to signal it.”

“You had a good time at home, though?” 

He nods. “It was great to be with them all. You?”

“Same. Good to be home.”

You are reminded of the tears you shed at the airport, homesick not for your family but for him.

“Thing is, I was glad to come back.” He looks up at you, eyes curious. “Because this feels like home, too.”

You eat the pizza companionably on the couch, washed down with cans of soda. Ben offers to stack the plates in the dishwasher. As he returns to the couch, you broach the subject.

“Can we talk?”

He nods and settles beside you. Your stomach does backflips at the prospect of having to finally say the words you’ve been mentally rehearsing since the day you left. 

“I want to explain, and I want to - well, I want to try to make things right, because I did something wrong.” You look up at him, his dark eyes meeting yours, and it’s all you can do not to ditch the speech and try to show him what you feel in ways beyond words. 

“I’m so, so sorry, Ben. I…”

And then he’s bridging the gap between your two bodies; gently caressing your face with his hands; tilting your head to meet his gaze. His eyes ask the question, and before you’ve finished nodding your assent his mouth is on yours and he’s kissing you like he’ll never get the chance again: hungry but tender, urgent but loving. 

He brings his hands to wrap around your body, gently encouraging you to lie back on the couch and quickly pulling a cushion into position behind your head. 

Your brain is shouting at you about how you need to do this properly, to talk first and then act, if you both want to. 

Your body is responding rather differently. It couldn’t be any smoother if you’d rehearsed this: your legs opening wide to accommodate Ben’s gorgeous broadness, knees hitching around him as you try to pull him closer, hands tugging at the old hoodie, easing it off over his head, and fingers fumbling to undo the buttons on his flannel shirt. 

He breaks away from the kiss, moving his mouth to the side of your neck and working his way down to your chest with a succession of kisses, gentle nibbles, and light sucking, interspersed with little moans and whispers of your name. You can feel his hands roving under your blouse, loosening your tank from the waistband of your jeans so he can feel your soft, warm flesh in his hands. 

You gasp at the sensation. Your body is silently screaming for Ben, begging wordlessly for him to unzip your jeans and slip his hand between your soaking folds. Even so, your brain still wants to have a say. 

“Ben…Ben… wait.” He pulls away but remains close to your body, looking up at you. 

“You want me to stop, Lyd?”

You shake your head. “No, never, but… we were supposed to talk and -”

“We will.” He places a soft kiss to your exposed décolletage, and you moan. 

You pull him towards you and kiss him firmly on the mouth, lifting your hips towards his and feeling the friction of him, already hard in his dark jeans.

“Fuck, Lyd…”

“Fuck it, we can talk later.” You encourage him to move off you and wriggle yourself off the couch, taking him by the hand. “C’mon, let’s go to bed.”

You’re lying on your bed, Ben’s solid, comforting weight on top of you, both of you working urgently, desperately, to undress each other. You’d eased him out of his flannel shirt as soon as you got into the bedroom, pausing for a moment to admire his beautiful body in the slim-fit grey T-shirt he was wearing underneath before peeling it off him as you fell onto the bed. 

He’s murmuring into your ear and trailing his lips down the line of your neck as his fingers undo the buttons on your blouse. “Fucking missed you so fucking much, Lyd,” he mutters, sucking so perfectly at your neck that you feel like your entire body is arching off the mattress. He sits you up slightly so he can tug away the blouse and peel off your tank top, tossing it aside as he reaches around to unhook your bra. 

His big hands grope your tits, fingers gently pinching your nipples before his tongue swirls over them, triggering a cry of pleasure from you. 

“FUCK, Ben, I really missed you, too…need you, baby.”

He moves his hands down to undo your jeans, slipping his long fingers inside. You’ve already unbuttoned his jeans and you pull down the zipper before sitting up to tug them - and his boxer briefs - down. His cock springs free, already hard and weeping, and you grip it gently before giving it a few strokes.  

Ben groans loudly as he looks down, wanting to see your fingers working his cock. He pulls off your jeans and panties and meets your gaze again as you open your legs wide. 

“This okay?”

You nod frantically. “It’s fucking perfect.”

He smiles and reaches between your legs to drag two long fingers over your folds. The look on his face is one of surprise and arousal. 

“Fuck, you’re so wet, Lyd. So wet for me already.” He looks down to watch his fingers working through your slick, occasionally dipping his fingertips into your cunt and making you cry out with need and desire. “What do you want, baby?”

He keeps fucking you with his fingers as he looks into your eyes. It seems that’s what triggers your first orgasm: his big eyes gazing at you, so warm and so kind, while his thick fingers are pushing in and out of your pussy, making lewd, wet noises.

“Oh, fuck!” You come on his fingers, a wicked little smile on his face. “You, Ben, I want you. Want you to fuck me hard. Need you.” 

He pulls his fingers out of you and sucks them clean, closing his eyes as he feels your taste on his lips and tongue. The sight makes your pussy throb, but you need more.

“You ready for me, Lyddie?”

You nod and spread your legs as he quickly lines himself up, pushing inside you in a single, fluid motion that seems to knock the air clean out of your lungs. You reach up and take his head in your hands, pulling him down for a kiss as he starts to move. He drags his cock in and out, slowly, deliberately; dark eyes watching you writhe and mewl under his broad body.

“Please, Ben -”

He begins to fuck you harder, deeper, rarely taking his eyes off you. Despite the urgency it’s imbued with a tenderness and a desperate need that matches your own. Your body responds intuitively as you hitch up your knees and shift your hips slightly to meet his firm thrusts and take him even more deeply. 

You fuck each other as though you’re trying to fuse yourselves irrevocably together, using your bodies to take the first step towards overcoming the rift and separation. The sensation of soft, warm skin, of fingertips trailing over a breast, a bicep, a thigh, begins to say the words you still don’t quite know how to articulate.

Your hips are moving quicker now, fucking him as much as he is fucking you, and Ben leans back a little to look down at where your bodies are joined. He looks up at you from under his lashes, half-smiling as he admires the way your body moves in perfect sync with his. You reach for his strong forearms, fingers gripping his firm, lightly golden flesh to give you greater purchase as your hips roll upwards, trying to sate your longing and your frustration. Ben lets out a deep, guttural cry. 

“Fucking hell, Lyd!” 

“Want to fuck you, baby,” you murmur, not letting up the rhythm. “Please. Want to get on top.”

He rolls carefully onto his back, holding you in position around your hips as you shift your knees and brace your core. The change in position has his cock hitting you at a different angle, grazing against that perfect, spongy spot just inside your cunt, and you take a moment to savour the feeling before beginning to ride him. 

You move with intention, purpose, determination, trying to let your body speak for you before you use your words, later. The sight of his beautiful face, eyes screwed up in pleasure and mouth slightly open, sends a pulse thrumming through you and almost gets you off again. You want more. You want to give him more. You want to give him everything. 

Your hands reach down your body, seeking his broad palms and thick, gentle fingers; you place one hand over your left breast and encourage him to use the other to start massaging the slick-soaked pearl of your clit. 

You cry out his name as you come, rhythm faltering a little. Ben encourages you to lift yourself off his cock for a moment, pushing himself up to a sitting position against your headboard before you straddle him again, taking his hard length deep into your warm, wet cunt and making him groan loudly. 

The two of you, again. You and him, him and you, clinging to each other in mutual desire and reassurance. Bodies pressed together, the heavy weight of your tits pushed against the broadness of his chest, the warm softness of his tummy grazing against yours. You kiss, his tongue swiping at your lips and exploring your mouth: two as one. 

He breaks away as he fucks up into you, arms still wrapped around you. You close your eyes, keening with pleasure. 

“Open your eyes, Lydia.”

You blink, meeting his coffee-brown gaze. He smiles and caresses your face, slowing down the pace as he does so. “Hi.”

“Hi.”

“Just slowing down a little or I won’t last, baby.”

You pepper his neck and shoulders with tiny kisses, seeking out the little freckles and marks you love. Each press of your lips to his skin is a silent apology, an unspoken explanation, an attempt to convey through touch what you feel for him, how much he means to you.

I am so sorry. I missed you so very much. I need you. I care about you. I hate that I hurt you. Please forgive me. 

And I love you. 

“I’m close, baby. Gonna lie you back down, is that okay?”

You nod, kissing Ben as he eases you onto the bed. He pulls out for a moment as you change positions, and you whine a little at the loss of his cock inside you.

“Hey, it’s okay, baby,” he murmurs, planting a soft kiss to your breast as he slides back inside you, “I wasn’t going anywhere.”

You twine your hands around his neck and reach to run your fingers through his dark curls, listening to the obscene sound of your wetness against him as he fucks you. You hitch up your legs and slip down a hand to grip his ass as he drives in and out of you.

“Fuck-fucking hell, baby - jesus, that feels so good. You feel so fucking perfect, so fucking wet. Taking me like this -” 

He stutters as he buries his face in your neck, thrusting harder and faster as he gets closer. You wrap your arms around his broad back, finding arousal and reassurance in the warm softness of his body. 

“I love having you inside me, y’know,” you whisper in his ear. “I love taking you, all of you, feeling the stretch in my cunt when you fuck me.”

Your dirty talk has the desired effect and you watch as his body stiffens and expression changes. He groans as he comes hard, continuing to fuck into you as you feel him fill you, hot and deep. 

He doesn’t pull out immediately, pausing while he’s still on top of you to plant a lingering kiss to your lips. He takes in your fucked-out expression. His own is similarly wrecked, eyes hooded and pussydrunk, perspiration glistening on his face and body. 

“Fuck, baby, that was…”

“Fucking incredible.”

You trace your hand over his jaw, gently feeling the scratchy hair underneath as you move your fingers to his lips. 

“I missed you so fucking much, Ben. I’m so sorry.”

He takes your hand in his and kisses your fingertips, then pulls out and lies back beside you on the bed, still holding your hand. 

“I missed you so, so much, Lyddie.” He looks up at the ceiling, suddenly puzzled. “How did we end up at this end of the bed?”

You giggle. “I didn’t keep track of the logistics but we covered a lot of ground tonight.” You kiss the firm skin of his shoulder and sit up. “I’m going to freshen up. Be back in a minute.”

When you return, Ben is under the comforter, lying back on the pillows at the head of the bed. You stop for a moment to take in the image. You had forgotten this was the first time he’d ever been over to your place, and he looks right at home.

He smiles warmly as you climb back into bed, shivering a little as you discard your robe. He wraps an arm around your shoulders and pulls you close to his side, tucking the comforter around you to keep you warm. You nuzzle into his chest, humming contentedly to yourself.

“Lyd?” His voice is quiet and soft and it makes your heart sing to hear it like this, in bed, naked and sated and cuddled together. 

“Mmmhmm?”

“You - you framed my card.”

You had framed his birthday card, and it had sat on your nightstand since November. And you forgot he would see it. 

Shit. 

You look up at him, a little panicked. The look on his face immediately reassures you, and you reach up to trace a finger along the grey patches on his jaw. 

“I just really loved it, the card, the message. And it…it meant so much.”

He blushes a little. “That’s really…it’s great.”

He holds you a little closer. 

“Ben?”

“Mmmm?”

“I’m going to explain.”

He brings his other arm around you and plants a kiss to the crown of your head. “Okay, Lyd. I’m here.”

You take a deep breath and lightly rest your hand on his chest, trying to ground yourself with the rhythm of his heartbeat and the feeling of his warm skin. 

“I left the way I did because I was scared.” You tilt your head up to look at him. “Not scared of you, I’d never be scared of you. Scared of - well, scared of a lot of things. And I’m not even sure if I can explain them all properly, but I’ll do my best.”

You nuzzle a little more into the warmth of his side, cheek pressed lightly to his chest. 

“I had such a wonderful time with you that night. It was amazing. You know that, right?” 

Ben looks down at you. “I do.”

“But then I woke early, and it was like the little bully that lives in my brain decided it was going to do its worst. I panicked, Ben. All I could think was that you would realise it was a mistake, eventually, and see how I was old and unattractive and broken, and…” You pause for a moment, trying not to let the tears fall. “And that I didn’t deserve someone like you.”

“Oh, Lyddie. No, Lyd.” Ben squeezes you gently, planting another kiss to the crown of your head. 

“I tried to talk myself down, I really did. But it’s one thing doing that in the light of day, it’s another altogether at five in the morning. So it was like the defences just went back up.”

“Defences?” 

“Like… I dunno. Defences against feelings, or wanting someone properly? Shit. I’m not explaining this very well.”

He shakes his head. “You’re doing perfectly fine. If you want to stop, just say.”

Another deep breath. “It’s not the only reason. But…the way everything fell apart with my last relationship, it - it made me harden myself because…I don’t know, I convinced myself if I kept up defences around my heart and soul I wouldn’t get hurt again? Something like that. It was fine to have hookups or one night stands, but anything more serious - couldn’t happen.”

“So you pulled up the drawbridge.”

You nod. “And it wasn’t just about protecting me from getting hurt again, it was about protecting others from me fucking everything up, like I always do. Ruining things, like I always have. And then there’s the visiting thing.”

“You don’t fuck everything up, Lyd, you don’t ruin things, and it’s so sad that you think you do, because - well, have you ever considered how much you make things better?” You look up at him, eyes disbelieving but filled with emotion at his words. 

“And what do you mean, visiting thing?”

“Me being a visiting professor, me having to go home to my permanent job… the way I was feeling that morning, all I could think was how this would have to end, and how - how I couldn’t handle the thoughts of not having this, because of the way I felt - the way I feel - about you.”

You trace patterns on his chest with your fingertips, trying to quell the anxiety that threatens to overwhelm you. 

“I didn’t come here looking for anyone. I was happy with my life the way it was - I wasn’t wandering around lost and lonely, desperate for a partner. My life was great, really. And then I met you, and I realised what I felt for you. I was starting to open myself up again, and I’d never, ever thought I’d do that. I never thought I’d have those feelings again, let alone…fall for someone. And certainly not someone as wonderful as you.”

“Lyd, you…”

You shake your head, wanting to get the words out while they’re flowing freely. “Over the holidays I realised that’s what was really scaring me. That’s what was at the root of it all, all the fear and panic - the way I feel about you, the way I care so much about you. It was so big, you know? The realisation of what I felt, of how much I cared, the knowledge that you had feelings for me, too. Sleeping with you, knowing how good that was, feeling like I wanted to stay with you like that forever.” 

You pause for a moment. “And then my stupid, stupid brain kicks in, because it’s wired to run from things that feel like they’re going to overwhelm me.”   

He gives you another cuddle. “That is not a stupid brain and you know it.”

“It feels like it is. It’s ironic, I thought I had to run so I didn’t ruin things. But turns out I might have ruined them anyway.” You pull away a little, still keeping a hand on his chest but propping yourself up so you can see his face properly. “I hate that I hurt you. I hurt you. And I feel so terrible that my own issues - my past - made me feel like I needed to do something stupid and in the process to hurt the man I…care so much for.” 

You shake your head ruefully. “I don’t want to be scared any more. I don’t need to be scared. And I don’t need the past to affect my life now, I won’t let it. I just hope that, regardless of what you want to happen with us, that you can -” 

You’ve been really good with the tears so far. You’ve managed to keep them at bay. But they’re prickling, gathering in your eyes and clouding your vision of Ben’s kind face and broad shoulders, and they won’t stay put much longer. You tilt your head upwards, trying to stave them off. 

“Forgive me.”

Ben reaches up to wipe away the fat tear that’s rolling down your cheek, his thumb stroking softly across your face. He sits up in bed and wraps his arms around you. 

He doesn’t say it to you, but he was ready to forgive you as soon as he looked into your eyes at Jen’s house.

“Of course, Lyddie. Doesn’t mean it didn’t hurt - still hurts a little - though, and that’s important too.” 

You pull back slightly and take his left hand in yours, tracing your thumb over his tattoo. 

“I know, Ben, and I’m so, so sorry.”

He takes a deep breath. “Thing is, you’re not the only one who was scared. Is scared. Love is scary, y’know?” He meets your gaze, his eyes and expression perhaps more vulnerable than you’ve ever seen them. “Especially when it’s new love. It’s exciting but it’s terrifying because… well, because it’s fragile, and it can be lost. And that feels even more of a risk when you - when you have lost love.”

“I mean it, I don’t want my past -”

He shakes his head. “I don’t mean your past, I mean mine. You’re not the only one who’s scared, and you’re not the only one who was fucked over.”

Oh, shit.

You nuzzle against his shoulder. “You can tell me, if you want.”

He rests his head against yours. “Shit. It’s…it’s a long time ago. But it fucks you up, doesn’t it?” You nod silently. “I met the person I thought I’d be with for the rest of my life during my doctoral programme. Six years, all fine, and then one day - that was it, out of the blue. The usual explanations: unhappy for a long time, we grew apart, all that kind of thing.”

“Sounds familiar,” you say wearily. You heard it all the day your ex left. It was like a script had been pre-circulated.

“You can guess what’s coming next, then.”

“Someone else?”

“There was someone else. Like I said, it’s a long time ago, Lyd. A lot longer than yours. It’s all in the distant past now, and therapy helped a lot early on.” He sighs. “But I guess I did something similar to you. Put up the defences, wasn’t looking for anyone, kept everything very casual, on the rare occasions it happened.”

You bring an arm around his torso, holding him close.

“And I was happy. I was really happy: I had wonderful friends, eventually I got a job I love, I have my family, my siblings, their kids. I was fine.” He pauses, jaw ticking. “I was fine, and then - then you came along.”

You pull back. His tone is confusing.

Ben turns to look at you, takes in your worried expression, and kisses the top of your head. “I’m sorry. I don’t mean ‘you came along and ruined things’, please don’t worry.” You visibly relax and squeeze his hand. 

“What I mean is - you came along, and you changed things. You changed everything. You think you ruin things, Lyd, and that just couldn’t be further from the truth. I… fuck. You changed my life, changed the way I thought about the future, about what I wanted, about opening up again.”

Tears threaten at your eyes again. “So when you woke up and I wasn’t there…”

He looks up, and his eyes are red-rimmed. “I thought it was happening again. And it just felt like I shouldn’t have opened up and let you in.”

You swallow, trying to stop yourself from crying. “Fuck, Ben. I’m so fucking sorry, I’m just such a fucking broken mess.” 

“Lyd, for fuck’s sake.” His tone is firmer, more stern. You look at him, a little surprised. “You’re not a broken mess. You - fuck it, you just weren’t loved the way you should have been. The way you deserve to be.”

“Jesus, Ben, I -” You pause, and he looks at you expectantly. “Well, that makes two of us. You weren’t loved like you deserve to be either, based on what you’ve said.”

He smiles softly, looking at you from under his lashes. “We’re quite a pair.”

You caress his face, reaching up to gently bring your fingers through his hair, and place a tiny, soft kiss to the beautiful curve of his nose. 

“I think we are quite a pair, actually.”

You blink awake in the wee small hours, eyes adjusting in the darkness as you take in the handsome sight of Ben’s sleeping face. The last time you woke up with him, you panicked and fled. This time, you smile softly, noticing that his hand is resting lightly on your hip, and lean in to gently kiss his warm, broad chest. 

His hand shifts and he smiles, eyes still closed, as he traces the curve of your body over your hip, your waist, and onto the heavy fullness of your breasts. He seeks out your nipples with his fingertips and you sigh with pleasure, reaching down to take his cock, already stiffening, in your hand. He kisses you, moaning as you stroke him a few times, and then carefully rolls you onto your back, positions himself on top of you, and uses his knee to open your legs a little wider for him.

“’M still wet, baby,” you murmur, voice thick with sleep. “Fuck me.” 

He lines himself up to take you: slowly, gently, still drowsy. You feel every inch of him as he fucks you to a slow, steady rhythm. Between the drag of his cock working in and out, and the silence punctured only by the sounds of you and Ben panting, your bodies moving against each other, you’re close to the edge before long.

He gets you there with a well-timed thumb to your clit, gently circling it until you fall apart again and he lets go inside you, kissing your neck and mouth as he pulls out before helping you clean up, moving in for some cuddles, and falling asleep again with you in his arms. 

It’s definitely not the kind of sex that cheesy novels are made of, but it makes you happy because of that. It’s soft, intimate, settled - domestic, even, like you’ve been together a long time. You still need to talk about what you both actually want, of course, but - if this is anything to go by - it feels like you might well be on the same page.

He’s not there when you reach for him in the morning. You sit bolt upright, suddenly paranoid that Ben might have done to you what you did to him. 

But then your eyes adjust to the morning light filtering through the blinds, and you can hear clattering and humming coming from the direction of the kitchen. You reach for a pair of pyjama pants and an old sweatshirt, and pad from the bedroom into the living and dining room and through the door into the tiny kitchen. 

Ben is standing at the main counter, his back to you, measuring out coffee for your filter machine while humming random melodies to himself. He’s wearing the big, old Paris Review hoodie you’d loaned him when he came home with you the evening before, as well as his boxers and a strangely familiar-looking pair of brightly-coloured socks, covered with a pattern of books and pens and - 

Oh, fuck. Those socks. Your Christmas present to him. He’d worn them to Jen’s party.

You take a few short steps across the kitchen floor and wrap your arms around him, pressing your cheek to his shoulder blade and inhaling deeply. 

“Hi, Lyddie.”

He turns and shifts his body so he can see you properly. He’s got his glasses on, his hair is tousled, curls sticking up in every direction, and he’s the most beautiful thing you’ve ever seen in your life. 

“You look a lot better in that hoodie than I do.”

He looks down at the magazine logo on the sweatshirt. “Were you a subscriber?”

“It was a gift from a friend years and years ago. We had a running joke about the idea of a magazine reviewing Paris, she saw it and ordered it for me. It’s cosy, isn’t it?”

He beams and puts an arm around you, gently pulling you to his side as the coffee machine splutters into life. “Very cosy, baby.”

“It’s nice, here.” Ben looks around the apartment as he sips the coffee, sitting beside you at the small dining table. “It’s very…”

“Basic?”

He arches an eyebrow over the rim of his mug. “I was going to say it’s very you. You’ve made it your own, even if it is basic.”

You reach for his hand and squeeze it, marvelling at the butterflies you feel at the simple sensation of the touch of his hand, even after having slept with him twice.  

“Ben?” 

He looks at you, eyes soft and warm. 

“I want this. Whatever this is, right now, I want it. I want to try it, anyway. I want you. I want you and me, I want there to be an ‘us’. I meant what I said last night, I’m not scared. Well, I am, because I still don’t know what happens when I have to leave and what if that ruins everything and then -”

He squeezes your hand in return. “Lyddie, you’re spiralling.”

You laugh and take a deep breath. “I guess what I’m asking is - if I wasn’t a broken weirdo who ran out on you, what would you want? What do you want?”

“Lyd, please. You’re not a weirdo, and you’re not fucking broken. You’re strong, and smart, and funny, and beautiful, and - fuck, you’re a fucking goddess, Lyd, and I’ll tell you that every goddamn day.” He looks at you, expression deadly serious before softening into a smile. “Surely you know I want this, too? You, me, an ‘us’? How could I not?” 

You put your hands to his face and pull him in for a kiss. No more fear, even if this was scary, in its own way.

And you remember something he said last night. 

“Ben, can I ask you about something you said last night?” 

He smiles beatifically and nods. 

“When I was explaining about being scared, you said something like ‘love is scary’. I… I’m just wondering about your word choice.” Your mouth feels dry and you take another sip of coffee. “Was ‘love’ generic, or…specific?”

Ben’s eyes widen for a moment, a tiny flash of panic passing through.

“It was specific.”

You nod. “So…”

He rubs his hands together, one of his nervous ‘tells’. “So, I said ‘love is scary’ because - I love you.” The look in his eyes is cautious but warm, hopeful. 

“I love you, Lydia. I love you very much. I hope that’s okay.”

You gently place your hand on top of his, quelling his anxious gesture. 

“I love you too, Ben. Very much. So, yeah, that’s okay.”

The two of you burst out laughing for a moment before leaning in for a soft kiss. It felt so normal, so comfortable: both of you still with your bed-heads, dressed in random loungewear, sitting at your dining table in your little apartment, saying you loved each other for the first time. 

Ben twines his fingers through yours, smiling. “I can’t tell you how glad I am to be able to say those words to you, Lyd.” He blushes a little. “Came close to saying it a few times before.”

You arch an eyebrow exaggeratedly and grin at him. “Oh, really? Well, that makes two of us.”

You lean over to rest your head on his shoulder. “And you know we said last night that neither of us had been loved the way we deserved?” He hums and nods in agreement, planting a kiss to the top of your head.

“Maybe we can try loving each other like that?”

“I’d like that very much, Lyd.” Another kiss, another squeeze of your hand - and, out of nowhere, his tummy rumbles audibly, triggering another fit of giggles.

“Think you and me deserve to have a nice breakfast, too.” He pushes himself back from the table and stands up, still holding your hand. He holds you closely. “And then…”

“And then - we come home and make up for lost time.”

(bookshelf divider by @animatedglittergraphics-n-more; other dividers by @cafekitsune)

Further A/N: Like many of us, I'm sure, I have spent much of the last week listening back to the work of the extraordinary, late, great Sinéad O'Connor. This song, from her 2014 album I'm Not Bossy, I'm The Boss, leapt out as a perfect fit for Lydia - in general, but especially in this chapter. Rest in power, Sinéad. (And if you haven't yet read her memoir, Rememberings, do it - it's brilliant.)