#sexxx dreams
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waterliliesforanni · 11 months ago
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dark hair gaga 😍 ✨️
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mythologiestofollow · 3 months ago
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Lady Gaga – Sexxx Dreams (Live at iTunes Festival 2013)
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thesillydoll · 1 year ago
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IM BACK, MUNDANES!
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gay-aunt-jackie · 1 month ago
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Lady Gaga promoting her new album Artpop (2013)
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terminallyapologetic · 2 months ago
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scar edit with sexxx dreams when
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gingersssnap · 8 months ago
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I keep checking out music albums from my library and finding out they're the edited clean versions 💀💀💀
I dont swear but i am an adult and if i want to listen to songs with colorful language, with parental guidance marked on the case, i should be allowed to. Why are you ordering the bleeped out versions stop it plz. They are singing about sex and drugs and domestic violence why did you bleep the words instead of bleeping the whole album
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mihai-florescu · 1 year ago
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Does anyone else have non enstars songs that get them in the mood to think about certain es characters? For me it's lady gaga's artpop album with crazy:b. I just had it playing on my walk while thinking of how id like himeru's secret to be revealed to the masses (alkakurei joint concert commemorating their 1 year anni since debut, someone broadcasts kaname's mom's secret in a way that parallels the first ss finals with akehoshi. I know they did it once in obbligato in reimei but i think having oremeru be forced to answer to the confrontation of "your mom led to the downfall of THE Akehoshi?" while he is in fact stealing the identity of the actual guy whose mom did that... there are many thing he'd need to explain first). Subaru would be witnessing this, he was in the audience supporting alkaloid of course...
I think id want aira to slap himeru actually, and to go on a monologue about stealing another idol's shine. I have to reread main story 2 but i remember one of my favorite aira moments in all of ES!! was his conversation with rinne about idolhood towards the end of the story.
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wildlyfreemoon · 6 months ago
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I KNOW THAT WE ARE YOUNG AND I KNOW THAT YOU MAY LOVE ME! BUT I JUST CANT BE WITH YOU LIKE THIS… anymore… alejandro….
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remodelling · 11 months ago
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the fact that the ARTPOP instrumentals hold up by themselves as their own songs
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mrsterlingeverything · 10 months ago
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livefreeforevernow · 3 months ago
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Sexxx Dreams.
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tomtaylornation · 8 months ago
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NEW / OLD PICS OF TOM TAYLOR
👍😭
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sopheadraws · 1 year ago
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10 tunes, 10 tags
aka shuffling your Spotify "On Repeat" playlist 10 times and then tagging 10 people
I was tagged by @thatiwouldbe <3
"Hair" by Lady Gaga
"G.U.Y." by Lady Gaga
"Nebraska" by Bruce Springsteen
"American Teenager" by Ethel Cain
"Sexxx Dreams" by Lady Gaga
"Crush - Stripped" by Ethel Cain
"Say Don't Go (Taylor's Version) (From The Vault)" by Taylor Swift
"No Surrender" by Bruce Springsteen
"I Can See You (Taylor's Version) (From The Vault)" by Taylor Swift
"'Slut!' (Taylor's Version) (From The Vault)" by Taylor Swift
I was expecting more than four artists, but this is unsurprising.
I'm tagging @wheresurboytonighthelookslikeenj @anewstartrekfan @hoodiedmenace @thelog33 @doctor-whu @delayshay @forth3loveofgod @katyobsesses @spocks-got-a-glock and @birdofmay :)
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violencelittlething · 29 days ago
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rebecca don’t be a coward, admit Sexxx Dreams (Lady Gaga) is on the Book 4 playlist
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missmaywemeetagain · 1 year ago
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Paisley Dreams (Part 2) 🏵💛🔥
Pretty sure there's only a small handful of you still reading my nonsense, but to those who are, thank you for your patience. Also, special thanks to those who kept me going after various blocks and meltdowns over finishing this (among other things). Would've thrown in the towel completely if it weren't for y'all. You know who you are and I love you. 💗💗💗 Anyway, sorry, this is probably a bit of a mess, but so am I... 😬
If you need a refresher, here's Paisley Dreams Part 1 🏵
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TW: SEXXX, a little macho-possessive!elvis, the usual era appropriate female frustrations.
August 1970
If Pepper didn’t know any better, she would think she dreamt up the surreal encounter with Elvis that happened a few days ago. The only thing tethering the experience to reality is the yellow shirt he left her with, the one she’s a bit ashamed to say she’s been wearing to bed the past three nights, just so she can languish in his scent a little longer.
Of course, she hasn’t heard from him. It would be absurd if she had, or at least she keeps reminding herself of that when she finds herself spacing out during the slow moments at the diner or when taking off her stage makeup after the show. Elvis Presley is a busy man, and it’s likely he hadn’t given her a single thought since he left her pining and wanting in her drab little apartment.
Sure, he’d been good in the moment in making her feel special, and she can’t help thinking about all the little vulnerable snippets of him he showed her, all the strange things they seem to have in common…
Stop it. This is stupid. I’m never gonna see the man again.
It’s been a mantra in her head for days now, but unfortunately her touch-starved body hasn’t gotten the memo. If she had any sense, she’d drop her delusional fantasies and move on with her monotonous life.
“Hey, Pepper! Some guy is here to see you. Says it’s urgent,” Paul, the show’s stage manager, tells her briskly as she put the final touches on her face.
With no clue who it might be, a tightening in her belly warns it could be another overzealous “fan” like the one who caught her out the other night. But Paul is skilled at getting rid of the creeps, so it leaves her wondering as she makes her way backstage to the green room.
“Oh, thank God,” the short man sighs with palpable relief when she walks through the doorway. He looks incredibly familiar.
“Who…wait. Charlie?” she gasps in surprise. “What—what are you doing here?”
The man looks so glad to see her it takes her aback. “You are a hard woman to track down. Aren’t you ever home?”
“I…uh, I work two jobs, so not really,” she finds herself explaining. “I don’t mean to be rude, but why are you here?”
“Well, the boss wants to see ya tonight, needs ya to come to his show,” he says, pushing a large white box into her arms.
“The boss?” she asks, confused. He can’t possibly mean who she thinks he does.
“Elvis. Elvis wants you at his show tonight, so here I am to get you there. And that’s for you, to wear,” Charlie says with a knowing smile.
Pepper thinks that maybe exhaustion has caught up with her because there is no way this is real. She laughs a little, a giddy feeling pulsing through her veins, until the cold wash of reality douses her.
“That’s nice, but I have a show of my own to do, Charlie,” she says, sweeping a hand over her revealing costume. Her heart sinks and she’s a little angry Elvis presumed she could drop everything to be at his beck and call. “Thank Elvis for the invitation but remind him I really can’t afford to lose this job.” She hands the white box back to Charlie, unopened.
He sputters a little with panic. It makes sense—most women probably bend over backwards to accommodate a man like Elvis, but she has other things to worry about. And Elvis knows this, which makes her even more irritated.
“But…but he really wants you there, Pepper,” Charlie says in a futile attempt to persuade her. “He’ll be mighty disappointed if you don’t come.”
Her heart kerthunks at the suggestion Elvis has been thinking about her at all, much less for him to be disappointed by her absence, but it doesn’t quell the anger starting to build in her chest.
“Well, I’m sorry for that, but it’s too short of notice and I have a show to do. Tell your boss it would be good for him not to make assumptions.”
Charlie looks like she’s slapped him. She almost feels bad for him because she gets the impression, as wonderful as Elvis was with her the other night, he is not a man who likes to be told “no.”
“I need to be on stage soon. Bye, Charlie,” she says, fighting the urge to cry both with irritation and disappointment. She can’t afford to ruin her makeup this close to showtime and walks out before she can change her mind.
The smile she plasters across her face during the dinner show covers her aching discontent. She’s almost glad for the distraction—it takes her mind off the fact she’ll likely never hear from Elvis again. There is certainly no reason for a man like him to chase a woman like her, especially when she’s rejected him.
Lost in her dismal thoughts, she doesn’t hear Paul when he comes up behind her after the show. She jumps out of her skin when he touches her shoulder.
“I don’t know what you’ve gotten yourself into, Pepper, but you’ve got someone important on the phone for you,” Paul says, looking at her a little incredulously with a quirked brow, “and that little guy is back.”
What?
She makes her way back to the green room for the second time tonight, a racehorse running laps in her heart as she huffs down the hallway in her heels.
Charlie’s eyes brighten when they see her and he says nothing; he just holds out the phone receiver towards her. Trepidation makes her shake when she grabs it because as much as she wants to deny it, there’s no doubt who it could be.
“Hello?” she squeaks out, then races to clear her throat and relax her voice. “Who is this?”
“Peppercorn, you best be gettin’ that cute lil’ butt of yours down here, ‘fore I gotta come getchu myself,” Elvis familiar drawl growls commandingly in her ear.
It’s unfair the way it makes her toes curl and her thighs tighten, especially when a certain sense of fury at his orders slices through her arousal. If any other man talked like this to her, she’d hang up on him, but Elvis Presley is not just any other man.
“Well, hello to you, too, Elvis,” she says with ire. “I told you, I have my own shows and I can’t just up and leave on a whim.”
“Don’tchu worry about none of that, darlin’. I’ll take care of everything,” he says so smoothly it almost covers the impatience in his tone.
“What does that even mean?”
He sighs on the other end. “Honey, money ain’t an issue. I’ll give you more money than they’d pay you tonight to come to my show.”
The force of his words hits her square in the chest, her hand tightening around the phone. “And what about when they fire me for leaving without notice, hmm? You just gonna pay for my bills from now on? I’m not a whore, Elvis Presley. And I don’t want your damn money.”
That stubborn streak her mama always took her to task for has her seeing red, but somehow she has enough sense not to hang up on him directly. Instead, she just thrusts the phone into Charlie’s hand and storms off, not listening to the crackling voice yelling through the receiver.
Oooh, the nerve of that man, she thinks, her blood boiling at his insinuations. He’d been so nice and thoughtful the other night, not this demanding cad offering to pay her like some hooker off the street. For a man like that, offering what he did, it is blaringly obvious that there would be strings attached to such an arrangement, and she isn’t going to be some kept woman.
The audacity of his actions and words has her raging the more she thinks about him. The late show barely takes her mind off it, the entire exchange sending waves of adrenaline through her blood every time it pops back into her mind. By the time she is back home, she’s exhausted but wired, upset that her daydreams about this man were just that—fantasies.
Pepper convinced herself he wasn’t like any other man—that he was sweet and kind and didn’t just want her for her body. What a joke.He may be rich and powerful, but he certainly made his intentions clear with his demands.
Once in bed, she doesn’t bother to stop the tears leaking from her eyes and dripping into the mattress. A sick feeling of regret churns in her stomach as her rage cools and she begins second guessing all her choices. How she managed to ruin her chances with Elvis.
Buck up, kiddo, he’s just a guy. A famous, talented, and ridiculously handsome one, maybe, but still just a man in the end. He doesn’t matter. Your family does. She may not have much, but at least she has her dignity.
Or so she hopes, a certain yellow paisley shirt clinging to her body when sleep finally takes her.
*
An incessant pounding rouses Pepper from a fitful slumber. At first, she thinks it might be a whopper of a headache she’d felt coming on after last night’s events, but as she forces her gritty eyes open, she realizes it’s not that at all.
Someone is pounding on her front door.
Adrenaline kickstarts her body, despite the sleep that tries to reclaim her, and a quick look at the alarm clock on her nightstand shows it’s not quite four in the morning. She is cautious and more than a little scared as she slips her too flimsy robe on over her nightgown, pattering through the apartment with bare feet. Approaching the door with an element of stealth, which seems awfully stupid when she thinks about it, she peeks through the peephole, praying it’s not some drugged out creep looking for a good time or a maniac she needs to call the cops on.
But there is no mistaking the shock of black hair and the purple tinted sunglasses of the man causing such a racket on the other side of the wood. Her stomach drops and her heart flips.
You’ve got to be kidding me. She takes a shaky breath and opens the door before he can continue his barrage.
Elvis starts a bit when the door opens suddenly, his shoulders squaring and spine straightening. For a second, he almost looks self-conscious about his behavior, but it is gone and replaced with a narrow-eyed glare before she can dwell on it.
“You gonna let me in, sweetheart, or are we gonna do this out in the open for everyone to see?” he drawls, but it has a cutting edge to it she doesn’t recognize from their first meeting.
Now that he’s here in front of her, her earlier stubbornness is hard to locate behind the butterflies in her stomach and the sudden apprehension she feels about him being here again. He sucks all the air out of the room after she wordlessly opens the door further to let him stride through.
Pepper pulls her robe tight across her body, trying to cover herself as though he hadn’t already seen her bare, as if he hadn’t knelt in front of her to dress her in that dark alley. The thought, along with the waft of his cologne as he passes by her, makes her knees weak.
“Wha—what’re you doing here, Elvis?” she asks, the words sticking in her mouth with sleep and confusion as she flips on the lamp near the couch.
She realizes the mistake the moment it happens. Now she can truly see him in all his glory—his post-show glow giving him an other-worldly quality she didn’t know was possible. His tan skin and lustrous dark hair are indulgent to her senses and it’s almost painful how endless his sapphire eyes are when he takes off his tinted glasses and rakes those eyes over her body.
It sends a shiver right down to her toes.
“Peppercorn, you’re one helluva stubborn little girl,” he says huskily, pointing a long finger at her, “makin’ me come all the way down ‘ere to talk some damn sense into ya.”
It’s piercing and heated the way he says it and she feels somewhere between a scolded child and a wounded lover, neither of which fits the strange (non-)relationship she has with him, but she feels it all the same. Logic tells her he has no right to come in here like this, but the fact that he’s here at all, looking ethereal like some sort of angry god, has all logic flying out the window.
Digging her toes into the wood floor to keep herself grounded, she finally finds her voice again, “Excuse me?”
“And all this nonsense ‘bout ya being some kinda ‘whore’,” he barrels on, “and I ain’t never said no such thing, would never say such a thing aboutcha.” The vehemence with which he says it makes it sound likeshe was the one who offended him and not the other way around.
Pepper is confused for a second because of this, as her first instinct is to apologize to make him feel better, but then she remembers why she was mad in the first place.
“Well, maybe if you didn’t offer to pay me to spend time with you and be there to satisfy your every whim, I wouldn’t think that’s what you meant,” she says quietly, her voice shaking only slightly, as she throws it back at him.
His eyes flash and narrow while his cheeks redden underneath his tan. The divot in his jaw ticks with tension, and for a split second she regrets her words.
She can’t for the life of her understand why he cares and has gone to all this trouble and seems so upset. She’s nobody of consequence, and God knows any number of women are lined up at the ready for him if he wants company. And yet he’s here.
This doesn’t help the way her heart knocks against her ribcage, though, and she squeezes her hands tight to try and control her rapid breathing.
“Don’t go puttin’ words in my mouth, lil girl,” he growls, stepping towards her, backing her into the wall. Only the tiniest part of her is frightened despite his size and anger because his proximity and intensity ignite something molten in her veins. Her mouth parts but the quippy reply dies on her lips.
“Why don’tcha wanna come to my show?” There’s an element of hurt in his voice that surprises her, and it tugs at her heartstrings. He looks down at her and it nearly causes her knees to buckle. “I-I-I jus’ thought—”
“I would love to come. It breaks my heart that I can’t,” she whispers mournfully, the words popping out before you can think better of them.
An impish little smile plays at his lips. “It does, does it?”
Pepper can’t help but roll her eyes, tilting her chin to the side, mostly to avoid being swallowed up by those churning eyes of his. “Of course.”
“Then why you gotta be so stubborn, baby?” he replies, gently scolding her. His slender pointer finger grazes her jaw, then turns her chin back towards him.
She hopes he doesn’t feel the way she shudders from the contact. It’s embarrassing enough that she can’t seem to hold her ground with him in front of her like this. That she’s melting at his slightest touch. She struggles to get the words out, feeling heady with the heat of him so close.
“I don’t…it’s important for me to be able to take care of myself. I’ve had to for a long time. And you don’t need to give me anything for me to want to come see or spend time with you—you shouldn’t have to. Besides,” she adds quietly, looking down, “I’m not really the kind of girl who…um…takes advantage of things like that. So, as much as I want to, I can’t—"
The rest is swallowed before it can come out by the sweet softness of his plush lips pressing against her own. She gasps in surprise, but that, too, is consumed by his mouth. His hands cup her face, tilting it up towards his and Pepper flails for a moment in confusion until the gentle insistence of his kiss subdues her completely.
Warmth spreads through her limbs, followed by electric tingles which bounce around her stomach and suck the breath out of her lungs. Her hands land on his chest, feeling heat and dampness from sweat, his heart thrumming underneath her palm. It’s faster than she expects and in disbelief, she wonders if it’s because of her.
When he pulls away, lashes fluttering up to meet her gaze, it’s as if a rocket implodes inside her chest. She’s a goner—if she’s honest with herself, she has been since the moment he defended her in the alley—and she knows it’s a bad place to be with a man like Elvis. She struggles valiantly against her baser instincts.
“Wh-why did you do that?” she chokes out, still confused about the fact that Elvis Presley just kissed her.
His eyes go dark. “Did ya not like it?” he asks, concerned.
“N-No, no, it isn’t…it was lovely, I just—I mean, why me?” She looks up at him with earnest eyes.
Relief spreads across his face and he runs his knuckles over her cheek. “Honey, you are the realest person I’ve met in this godforsaken town—hell, anywhere, as a matter of fact—a-an’ the only one who ain’t asked o-o-or expected a damn thing from me in a long time. You jus’…understand.”
Surprisingly, she does.
“Now, with that said, I like ta—" His head comes down, pressing the sweaty warmth of his forehead against hers. “—give gifts and help those I care about.” He nuzzles his nose into hers. “You gonna let me help you, Peppercorn?” he whispers against her cheek.
Her mouth parts by its own accord as her insides go gooey, and those soft lips devour hers again before she can reply. Fisting the lapels of his jacket in her hands, she barely recognizes the moan that escapes her as being her own.
He pulls away slightly, pressing kisses into her jaw and down her neck. It’s utterly intoxicating.
“Elvis…” is all she’s able to groan out. He’s an assault to her senses in the best way, causing every nerve ending to go into overdrive, logic and caution be dammed.
“Gonna be good f’me?” he rasps, lightly brushing the backs of his fingers down over her breast. She gasps and her nipple pebbles hard in response under the silky friction of the fabric of his yellow shirt. Back arching, her body seeks more of him.
He hums, pulling her up into a blistering kiss that sets her on fire. Mind wiped clean, she leans into his touch when he palms the underside of her breast.
“Thought you was mad at me and here ya are wearin’ my shirt to bed,” he drawls with a knowing smirk, his finger toying with the top button. “Now why would ya do a thing like that, huh, darlin’?”
“I…” she says breathlessly but stops when she has no defense. Her cheeks turn fire-engine red, both from being caught out and from the fact he is much too deftly popping the first button, which due to the size of the shirt lies squarely between her cleavage, open. The fullness and heaving of her breasts push the fabric further apart.
“Hmm, I see,” he tuts. His finger traces its way down to work the second button. “Were ya dreamin’ about me, honey?”
Pepper whimpers and her thighs clutch together involuntarily at his whispered words, and he doesn’t miss this little tell, not by the little smirk on his face. The second button pops and the shirt falls open more.
He swoops her up against him for another kiss, his tongue swiping through her lips and rolling against hers. The rapidly-firming outline of his cock pressed against her belly is not lost on her, either.
“My lil’ Peppercorn, thinkin’ she’s gotta be all rough and tough all by her lonesome,” he murmurs as he makes quick work of the other buttons, his fingers grazing the bare skin of her abdomen. She trembles at his touch. “Don’t gotta worry no more, baby, I gotcha,” he purrs. In any other situation, she might find it condescending, this way he’s taking her to task for being cautious and independent, but she can’t quite bring herself to care so much anymore.
Elvis steps back a little, those shining blue eyes flaring a bit when he gets a look at her in her simple white cotton panties. He looks almost gleeful which banishes her self-consciousness at not wearing something sexier to bed. God knows the last thing she expected last night after she showered was Elvis Presley admiring her choice of underwear.
“Lemme take care of ya?” he asks dreamily, and the words go straight to her core, tingling her swelling lower lips in anticipation of what she hopes he is going to do to her.
All she can manage is a low whine of consent, nodding her head furiously just in case it isn’t clear how badly she needs him to touch her.
Elvis smiles and flits his fingers over the cotton covering her mound. The slightest brush of his finger against her clit sends her spasming like a live wire. It’s embarrassing, yet by the boyish dimple in his cheek, she reckons he’s pleased as punch.
“You been touched like this before, baby?” he asks quietly, circling over her so lightly she feels she might explode from want.
Blinking rapidly, she tries to focus enough to reply. “N-not in a long w-while,” she admits, relishing the sensation of him brushing over the soaked center of her underwear. She can’t help the roll of her hips towards his hand, desperate for more.
“Mmm,” he tuts, nodding to himself. Thankfully, he obliges her by pressing slightly upwards, pushing his panty covered finger up into her hole just a little, the palm of his hand putting pressure on her sensitive clit.
He only gives her a second of this, just long enough for her to gasp out, before he’s moving along. Her knees threaten to buckle and she whines. Then his mouth his on hers again, inhaling her exhale as he kisses her into complete submission.
Pepper loses track of how long they kiss, only that her lips are swollen and that she aches for him with every fiber of her being. The rhythm of his mouth is hypnotic and when he slides his hand down the front of her, into her damp curls, and finally gives attention to the place she wants him most, she cries out in pleasure.
Her legs falling open, he takes the cue and teases the hood of her sex. Nothing has prepared her for this—not her imagination nor her few previous experiences with men could ever match up to the blinding arousal she’s feeling right now.
Surprising her, he bends down, continuing his kisses down her chest, over the rise of her breasts and down her stomach. When he kneels in front of her, a waft of déjà vu comes over her, except this time he is undressing her instead, making the entire scene so erotic with his kiss-swollen lips and bedroom eyes and his hair falling in his face that she feels a needy, throbbing desire between her legs.
His tongue traces her belly button, distracting her from the fact he’s pulling her ruined underwear down her legs to puddle at her feet. It’s not until his lips are pressing into her mound that she realizes his intentions.
“Oh!” Her eyes flying open, she squirms a little in panic—she’s never had a man kiss her down there, and sure as hell didn’t consider that Elvis would want to do such a thing, but there he his, looking up at her, one eyebrow cocked. His eyes don’t leave hers as he swirls that tongue of his around her bud.
“Oh—omigod,” she cries, breath hitching. Her body goes into overdrive at all the new sensations, and he just smiles against her, snacking and lapping away at her, as happy as can be. The surreal nature of it all has her questioning her sanity, but the fleeting thought is quickly overwhelmed by the coil rapidly tightening in her belly. She hurtles towards an orgasm she’s not entirely ready for because she desperately doesn’t want this pleasure to end. Mewling and begging, it only takes one slender finger sliding up into her snatch coupled with the delicious, tongued assault on her clit to send her catapulting over the edge.
Her body tenses, then shudders violently against him as a silent scream catches in her throat. The heat rushing over her has nothing on any climax she’s ever had before which becomes evident in the way her legs shake and threaten to give way completely. Thankfully, Elvis holds her steady by the backs of her thighs, not letting her slump down to the floor like a sack of potatoes as her body relaxes. She can barely breathe for the way he licks her through the end of it, his enjoyment of her arousal obviously not just for her benefit.
Pepper vaguely registers her soft moans and her shivering limbs as she comes back into herself. Her head clonks back into the wall while she tries to get ahold of senses. She can’t seem to come down, though, not with this gorgeous man prostrated at her feet, enjoying her as though she were water in the desert.
Everything goes blank, everything but him.
Then he’s upright again, pressing his body into her, into the wall, his head nuzzling the soft spot under her ear. “Ya like that, honey? That okay?”
If she were more cognizant, she might think more on how he seems almost unsure of his abilities, but as it is, she barely manages a nod.
“S’wonderful,” she slurs, though she’s completely sober.
He smiles against her neck, chin sticky with her arousal. She doesn’t care. At this moment, all she wants is to be consumed by him, crushed by him, taken care of by him. All earlier arguments are forgotten, especially when he ruts against her bare leg, his erection hard and seeking.
“Can I, darlin’?” he whispers imploringly with a punctuated roll of his hips. “Hims need her bad.”
She wants to giggle at the cuteness of his baby talk and at the gallantry of his asking rather than taking—as if she would deny him—so instead she just nods yet again, pulling at the confines of his suit jacket.
In a near-frantic battle with his elaborate outfit, his belt finally clanks to the floor along with his pants and discarded jacket. When his cock springs free, unencumbered due to the lack of underwear, she is almost shocked, but is too distracted by what seems to be a wholly perfect representation of the male form.
It makes her look him up and down with an awed and heated gaze, somewhat disbelieving this otherworldly man wants her. By its own accord, her hand palms the heavy heat of him, sending a thrill though her when he groans out her name.
Needy and already dripping from the slit in his angry pink tip, he thrusts his cock into her hand. “Please, baby,” he breathes and all at once she realizes he is as desperate to have her as she is to have him.
She’s never fucked standing before and if she were in her right mind might be a little concerned about the mechanics of such a thing, but nature has a way of prevailing and without much to-do, Elvis lifts her long legs around his waist and braces her against the wall.
They both groan as he enters her. She’s more than wet, but his size and her lack of recent experience creates a stretching burn, nevertheless. It makes her hiss and bite down on her lip and being the observant lover he has turned out to be, he freezes partway in.
“You okay?” he asks, worried, and she nods emphatically because no, she doesn’t want him to stop but yes, it has been awhile since a man traversed this part of her. The bite of her nails on his shoulders is enough to remind him to go slow, despite the desire to fuck each other into oblivion.
With the utmost patience he works his way in with shallow, gentle thrusts as she coats him with her slick and relaxes enough to let him burrow deeper. The tight fit is delicious on his cock, which he makes note of in a string of murmured baby talk praises in her ear of what a good girlshe is and how tight she feels and how he’d just make a home in her pretty lil’ beaver forever if he could.
All this has her tingling and radiating warmth from the inside out and she begins to roll her hips to let him know she’s ready. It’s not long then before he’s nestled deep inside, his sweaty forehead pressed to hers before kissing her deeply. She tastes the tang of herself on his tongue, something that shouldn’t make her moan into his mouth, but she does, clinging to his shoulders as he finally begins to move in earnest.
And consumed by him she is—by his smell, his taste, the hard and soft planes of his body sliding against her own so deftly, thoroughly slotted as if made for each other. His rings cut into the bottom of her thigh as he grips her there in such a way that suggests he thinks she might float away and disappear without him there to anchor her.
He might very well be right.
Boldly, she meets his increasingly deep and pointed thrusts with the snap of her hips, as best she can at least, considering her lack of leverage. She chases him and he her, like some sort of erotic ouroboros eating its own tail. There is nothing but him and her and the joined chorus of breath in their near-frantic lovemaking.
Pepper has never come twice in a row with a man, not ever, yet as he plunders her just the right way in all the right spots, the telltale signs of that tension in her core spring to life again. He’s skilled in making her body sing, considering he barely knows her—or perhaps he knows her better than anyone else in his gilded town. Regardless, he coaxes her back to the edge with him with the softness of his lips and the scrape of his teeth and the caress of his fingers and hands in her most intimate places.
Skilled but sweet. Confident but desperate. The dichotomy of this man confounds her. Her back scrapes against the wall in time with the piston of his perfect hips, and the music of his soft moans has her near orgasm once again.
The build is slower this time and she relishes in every sensation, trying to commit them to memory. When she finally shatters around him at the crest of it all, Elvis shudders with a low groan and thrusts impossibly deep before pulsing hard, filling her with cum.
They collapse in on each other then, a panting silence filling the space around them. His breath is wet and heavy in the crook of her neck. She mindlessly runs her fingers through the hair at the nape of his neck, which is damp with sweat.
Oh, she’s in deep trouble with this one and she knows it. Part of her wants nothing more to stay like this forever, back scraping against the plaster, collapsed in a satisfied heap in Elvis’ arms.
A pleased hum comes from him, vibrating her sensitive skin, as he nestles deeper into her, despite the softening of his penis. It is needy and cuddly and unexpected based on the way he barged in earlier. But he continues to hold her tight, and she is powerless to deny him such a comfort.
She doesn’t want to.
“Come back with me, honey,” he whispers into the shell of her ear, causing her skin to pebble. “Please.”
Pepper wants to cry at the vulnerable way he says it and how it leaves her feeling so special because it seems to prove this was not just an angry, possessive fuck from a man who always gets what he wants. No, it feels charmingly sweet and melts her heart and body in all the right ways. It would be so easy to go, so tempting to fall into his arms again and again.
But things have never been easy for her and her damn pragmatic mind won’t let it rest why he showed up here in the first place.
“I—I can’t leave my jobs,” she whispers, her fingers carting through his dark hair by their own accord as his lips tackle her pulse point. She feels him smile against her skin, an action which shoots straight into her core, as if he hadn’t left her sated twice already.
“Well, I thought ya might say that, but it jus’ so happens the Hilton has a book-keeping openin’, if ya want it,” he says dreamily.
It takes a moment for her post-coital brain to make sense of what he’s saying. She pulls back.
“Wait. Are you serious?”
“As a heart attack,” he replies, forcing his pleased grin into a serious scowl.
Her heart pounds even more than it did when his lips were on her. She knows jobs like this are hard for people like her to come by. Most casinos don’t want to take a chance on a showgirl doing their books.
This could change everything for her.
“I…but I don’t have much experience and they’ll never—” she babbles, sending herself into a panic.
“Baby,” he shushes, finally removing himself from her and setting her down gently, “you’ve already got the job.” He smooths her hair, lulling her into relaxing.
She shakes her head in disbelief. Part of her wants to balk against the kindness, telling her she didn’t earn it for herself. Elvis gleans this, however.
“Let me help you, darlin’,” he coos at her, brushing her hair over her shoulder. “Please. Let someone else take care of ya for once.”
Tears spring to her eyes. She can’t help it. The rollercoaster of the last few days has left her raw.
“You didn’t have to—it’s too much,” she sniffles, blinking back the tears.
“Wasn’t nothin’, baby. And you’ll be great, workin’ with all those numbers,” he says, rubbing the pad of his thumb across her cheek. “And, it ain’t entirely selfless,” he muses, “considerin’ you’ll be workin’ in the same place as me and they don’t need you to start for a couple weeks. Those hours give you plenty of time to come see me. To be with me.”
She can’t help but chuckle at that. “But I have to—”
“Good thing about that signing bonus, too. Means ya won’t have to worry ‘bout leavin’ those other jobs of yours,” he says nonchalantly.
“I’m sure you had nothing to do with that,” she says, narrowing her eyes at him.
“Nope, no siree.” His eyes twinkle at her.
Her guarded incredulousness disintegrates when she realizes he listened to her. Despite the misguided way he went about it, he figured out her need to be self-sufficient, solved the problem holding her back from him, and managed to get her a job she could barely dream of a few days ago.
It’s infuriating to her head-strong nature that he’s so deftly wheedled around all the obstacles and that she wants nothing more than to be in his arms and hear his vulnerability and go to his damn shows.
“Whadya say, Peppercorn? Will ya come be with me?” He says it with only the slightest tremor of doubt, those soulful eyes of his searching hers, dredging up feelings she knows will likely bite her in the ass later.
Finally, she takes a deep breath and nods. “Fine,” she tries to say with a hint of frustration, but she’s unable to keep her hopeful smile from raising the corners of her mouth.
The dimple carved out beneath his apple cheeks makes it all worth it and sends a shower of tingles through her body. He swoops her up in his arms, kissing her deeply and hugging her so tight she can barely draw breath.
Suffocated by Elvis Presley’s kisses wouldn’t be such a bad way to go, she thinks humorously as he takes her breath away.
“I should go clean up and pack some things,” she pants when they finally tear themselves away from each other.
He nods, looking mussed and blissful, his bedroom eyes heavy as though the night’s events have finally all caught up to him. Holding her hand until the last possible second, she’s near convinced that he’s about ready to fall asleep standing up.
She’s halfway down the hall when he calls out to her, voice husky. “Hey, honey.”
Pepper turns back to look at him.
“Bring the shirt,” Elvis says, his dark brow quirking suggestively, “I like it on ya.”
He gives her an idea, a bold one she acts on before she can think too much on it. “Bet you’d like it off me even more,” she says, sliding the already open shirt off her shoulders. It falls in a soft heap around her feet.
His eyes go wide and take in her bare form from head to toe. “Damn, woman, I think ya might be right.”
And with a growl, he charges her, sending her into shrieking giggles as she flees into her room. Tapping some hidden reserve of energy, he lifts her and throws her on her unmade bed, and then climbs in on top of her, showering her with kisses everywhere.
Loving the way his long body presses her into the sheets, she feels utterly content for once in her life to let loose a little and live in the present without a care in the world.
“Gonna take care of ya,” he whispers, running his hand reverently over her naked curves.
And she knows he will.
*
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arizonaaaaaa · 5 months ago
Text
Glee cast sings ARTPOP by Lady Gaga
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Aura/Burqa sung by Sebastian Smythe in ''A Katy or a Gaga''
-this comes from my little headcanon that Sebastian transferred to McKinley in season 5, I think this really sums what an audition would be for him, from topics about his sexuality and flirtation and murder which I’m pretty sure he thought about doing it to Kurt
Venus sung by Dani, Elliot and Kurt in ''Trio''
-this trio is very underrated, I would have this be either one of Kurt’s fantasies or an actual performance Pamela Lansbury does, Venus is kind of a lesbian symbol which is Dani’s whole personality and the boys would be there cause their harmonies work a lot, there’s also a verse where Gaga repeats Venus several times and it kind of sounds like penis which I find endearing
G.U.Y. sung by Bree in ''A Katy or a Gaga''
-hear me out, Brittany left, Joe and Sugar disappeared, they need new members, glee introduced yet another bitch cheerleader, you’re telling me she isn’t joining? Like I don’t want this, but it’s so obvious, anyway, she would perform this in a dance performance with Jake, at the end she would kiss him, in front of everyone including Marley, Jake and Marley would be pissed but Bree would be like “don’t worry sweetie it was just for the performance”
Sexxx Dreams sung by Jake Puckerman in season 5
-the song talks about having sex with someone after having a sex dream about another person, confusing? Yes. Just imagine is Jake singing after having a sex dream about Marley, but Marley isn’t ready to lose her virginity, knowing that, Bree would call him and bla bla bla he cheats, but while doing so he only thinks about Marley, which makes him more ashamed of what he did
Jewels N' Drugs feat. T.I, Too Short & Twista sung by Artie, Bree, Jake and Will in “The End of Twerk”
-the beat of this song is amazing, the lyrics aren’t my favorite but I outgrew this, I could see this happening instead of Blurred Lines, it’s… not the best song for students to be singing while twerking in the hallways and I’m sure Will would just want to be cool with the kiddos™️. Bree would sing Gaga’s verses, the boys… Will would sing T.I’s since it’s the very first verse of the song, Artie would sing Too Short’s since their voices are similar and Jake would sing Twista’s, which is not reliable since he raps the fastest and I don’t remember if he actually can rap, oh well
MANiCURE sung by Bree and Marley in season 5
-this would happen before the whole cheating thing, Jake would be giving private classes to Bree, Marley would notice how she’s into him so in order to guarantee that she wouldn’t do something, she would get all well dressed and pretty while Bree would also be doing the same before their practice in a montage of them in their rooms getting ready, they would get next to Jake at the same time as the song ends, Jake would ultimately cancel his practice with Bree and walk hand in hand with Marley, Bree would be glaring at them as they walk away
Do What U Want feat Christina Aguilera sung by Rachel and Tina in season 5
-first, fuck R. Kelly, you cursed this amazing song, second, i’m not the biggest fun of the numbers where both the glee club and NYC gang sung together, in fact this would be a Tina solo for me until I listened to the version with Christina Aguilera and immediately though about Rachel, Tina would be singing about her frustration of now having a love after breaking up with Mike, singing about how the boys could do anything they want with her body, Rachel would be singing about how the media and NYADA and idk Brody could do anything to her body, Tina would sing the Gaga’s parts while Rachel would sing Christina’s parts
ARTPOP sung by Artie Abrams
-this was the hardest to choose, when I hear this song I feel like I’m being abducted by an ufo. Gaga describes this song as an orgasm … yeah. But she also says that this song is kind of an anti capitalist anthem and that we should always put art in first place and view it as the most important thing to an artist, which fits Artie’s directing career, often doing something in favor of the concept instead of doing something to please the audience (Rachel’s dress in WSS) or make logical sense (juke box in Grease)
Swine sung by Ryder Lynn
-the song talks about Gaga’s rape, and how she felt gross and disgusting like a pig, while I don’t think Ryder felt that way when he was molested, he was affected by it in a way that he has a hard time trusting others, specially women, I think singing this song would release some tension, it’s very aggressive in a sense that it has a lot of screaming, and his voice is very raspy so he could do a great job
Donatella sung by Kitty Wilde in ''Diva''
-“I am so fab, check it out, I’m blonde, I’m skinny, I’m rich, and I’m a little bit of a bitch” this convinced me that’s her song. Out of all the girls in season 4, Kitty and Unique and definitely the biggest divas, I don’t think Kitty sang in the episode so it would be nice seeing her singing this
Fashion! sung by Kurt, Mercedes, Rachel and Santana in season 5
-these four have the craziest harmony together, How Will I Know was amazing and I’m still bitter Getting Better was recorded, filmed and scrapped and all we have is a pic, this song is them, the original four divas of the club, the song is about feeling powerful through fashion, that’s their anthem
Mary Jane Holland sung by Unique Adams in ''The End of Twerk''
-I picture this as Unique, in an attempt to escape the bullying, she would stop dressing like a mom and go back to dressing like Artie and using her deadname, the rest of the club would try help her see that this isn’t her true self, they would perform songs to her and after their plan work they would go to the auditorium where she would sing this song, embracing Unique in a fabulous dress with the others dancing along, “introducing, ladies and gentleman, Mary Jane Holland Unique Adams!”
Dope sung by Will Schuester
-the song talks about addiction and depression, while Will wasn’t addicted to drugs or an alcoholic it was very visible how much he was affected by Terri’s fake pregnancy and Emma’s relationships with Ken and Carl, I find Wemma to be one of the cutest couples and it took so long till they were fully happy, Dope would be Will’s ballad to Emma, how she brings light to his life and how much he needs her more than dope, drugs? Alcohol? Rachel singing? I don’t know
Gypsy sung by Jesse and Rachel in season 6
-this song is about falling in love and traveling the world, I considered Brittana for this but I ultimately choose St. Berry, while I’m not their biggest fan, the song is about finding true love after a rough pat, several people don’t think they’ll find true love after a partner’s death, but Rachel found, she is happy again
Applause sung by Artie, Blaine, Marley, Ryder and Sam in ''A Katy or a Gaga''
-this song was done very perfectly, all five of them sound really good, Sam and Ryder in particular, never in my life I would guess that two straight men would slay so hard in a Gaga song, I also may like the beat slightly more than the original
And that’s it, another one done, instead of doing the albums first i decided to go chronologically, so next one is Cheek to Cheek, should take roughly two weeks but it will be worth it :)
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