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capquinn · 5 months ago

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A Closeness | Q. Hughes

summary: the lake house has never felt smaller. moments alone become something of the past. but after longing touches here and gentle caresses there, quinn seizes an opportunity. pairing: fem!reader x quinn hughes content: fluff, mild smut (v vanilla…….seriously) word count: 3k note: the smut is for sure tame but it still had me blushing lmao enjoy!!! ↪ masterlist

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The off-season had finally arrived and so had summer in Michigan.

Days spent on the water with rosy sunburnt cheeks and friends turned into nights in the garden basking in the glow of a deep orange sunset and warm flickering shadows of the bonfire. Drinks poured and secrets spilled under starry skies that echo with celebrations of the hockey season and despondent mumblings of what it could have been. The conversations oscillate between just the two for the first three nights and then on the fourth night, there is a sense of normalcy. Just a bunch of friends engaged in animated conversations about some silly gossip, voices rising and falling like the rhythm of waves lapping at the shore by the pier. Hockey long forgotten. At least for a little while.

But even in the midst of his friends, Quinn’s attention is mostly on you.

So when your laughter punctuates the night air, Quinn turns his head, distracted from his own conversation. You’re standing with Jack by the cooler, nursing the same glass of wine that he had poured you an hour ago, and sharing an inside joke.

A small smile plays on his lips, and a warm feeling washes over him. You fit into his life seamlessly, and every once in a while, the universe conspires to remind him of just that.

He excuses himself and falls in place next to you, hand naturally slipping to lay rested on your waist. You lean into him without letting it disrupt the flow of conversation except only when Quinn leans down to press a soft kiss against your forehead. You pause briefly, glancing up to meet his eyes. Love you too. And then you’re bouncing back into conversation, enjoying the way he traces soothing circles onto bare skin under the hem of your t-shirt.

That’s how the evening continued. The moments ebb and flow, never going far at all. Returning with small touches here and tender caresses there that nobody seemed to notice… all whispering that he just wanted you near.

That’s when you finally retreat to the edge of the gathering to share a single deck chair. Nestled on his lap, head resting on his shoulder, finding solace in the quiet spaces between words. Fingers trace idle shapes down his arm, and he responds with a kiss to your shoulder. The world fades away around you both; you’re existing within your own reverie.

But after a while, your glass of something sweet and bubbly now empty, you let out a quiet sigh. “I’ll be back,” you whisper, untangling yourself from his body, clasping an empty wineglass.

As your feet meet the grass, Quinn is grasping at your free hand to keep you close.

“Baby,” he whines quietly in a way he only does when he’s buzzed. It’s still early in the evening and you are halfway there yourself. “Where are you going now?”

“Need more wine,” you giggle quietly, sinking back into him, wrapping an arm around his neck.

He shakes his head, disapproving of your answer. “Stay with me,” he tells you, arm snaking back around your waist and hand laying firm against your stomach. “It’s the first time they’ve left us alone,” he states, nodding his head towards your guests.

Hosting your friends had been a great idea. And it still is. Sort of. But with so many of them all here at once, you were both already exhausted. Quinn misses the silence and having his own space. Not used to sharing living quarters with fifteen other people after living in an apartment with just you for the last two years. Because with every turn, there’s another familiar face trying to get a piece of you both. To ask how to use the dishwasher or how to use the washing machine. Where’s the TV remote? To chat and hang out during every awake moment of the day. And the damn teasing that never stopped. Small comments here and shared jokes there whenever Quinn tried to show any form of fondness towards you. Friends unused to seeing their buddy engage in public displays of affection. He’s an easy target so he’s the master of his own undoing, really. Blushing and rolling his eyes, and then snapping back with a witty remark in response that did a poor job of hiding his slight embarrassment over being the centre of attention. A man but with all the awkward boyish charm that made his friends howl with laughter every time. Regardless, never did Quinn imagine that you would both be surrounded by this many people at all times.

A moment passes and then there is a soft murmur, lips brushing against your ear. “Love you so much.”

You turn your head slightly to look at him. Firelight dances in those green eyes, shimmering and intoxicating. And you forget to breathe, enraptured. It doesn’t help matters when he licks his pillowy pink lips. He’s practically begging you to kiss him boldly right here in front of all his friends. But you don’t and instead, the years are thrown back and suddenly you’re both twenty-one again, listening to him confess that he loves you for the very first time right here on this very lawn with those very same loving eyes.

It had been a lazy summer evening and the house was brimming with the energy of family and fiends, but you had both slipped away to the quiet of the lawn. Sprawled out over a faded plaid picnic rug with the golden glow of a setting sun reflecting over the water. Air warm, filled with the distant chirping of crickets. You had been lying side by side, staring up at emerging stars in silence. Quinn had turned on his side, propping himself up on his elbow, eyes tender. And then you felt the change in the night air, the way his gaze made your heart start to race.

He cleared his throat. “You know,” he began, voice uncharacteristically hesitant. “I’ve been wanting to tell you something for a while now.”

Curiosity piqued, a small smile played on your lips. “Oh, yeah? What’s that?”

He had taken a deep breath, eyes flickering between yours and the lake as if searching for a bout of courage in the still waters. “I… uh, well, I love you.” The words tumbled out in a rush, awkward and unpolished, and he immediately bit his lip, cheeks reddened.

You’re snapped back to reality as Quinn lolls his head to the side with a playful smirk tugging at the corners of his sun kissed cheeks. An amused twinkle in his eyes, noting your obvious lovesick gaze. But he can hardly blame you. He often found himself staring at you like you had hung all the stars in the sky.

There is a soft chuckle and then he’s reaching out to gently tuck a stray strand of hair behind your ear, sending shivers right down your spine. And finally, he’s kissing you. Paying no attention to whether or not his friends are watching, and frankly, at this point, he really doesn’t care if they are.

“Wanna get out of here?” He mumbles against the corner of your mouth, glancing around to see if you were able to sneak off without anyone noticing.

It seems likely. Jack is yapping on the other side of the fire, animatedly recounting a story with just enough drama that it’s keeping most of the group entertained, and off to your side, a seperate group of friends are bickering competitively over a card game.

In silent understanding, you untangle yourselves and discard the empty beverages on the grass beside the deck chair, and with practiced ease, you slip away from the group. Departure unnoticed.

Thank God, Quinn thinks to himself, intertwining your hands as you cross the lawn towards the lake house looming ahead. He’s not sure how much longer he could have feigned interest in the party. He loves his buddies, don’t get him wrong, but at this point, he’d do anything for just five minutes alone.

When the sounds of the party fade and your giggles mingle with the chirping of crickets and rustling of leaves in trees, it becomes Quinn’s very own private symphony. He can’t resist pulling you close, capturing your lips in a kiss.

“Been waiting to get you alone all night,” he says, voice low and husky, velvety against your skin.

You smile against his lips. “I thought we were just getting away from the mosquitoes,” you tease.

“Well, that too,” he grins. Quinn pecks a kiss to the corner of your mouth. “But mostly ‘cause I’m sick of sharing you with everyone else.”

All week long every corner of this house has been occupied. Every room, every spare sofa. The deck chairs during the morning, and the sun loungers on the pier during the afternoon. The kitchen brimmed with life at all hours of the day with friends cooking, eating and talking late into the night, and it was becoming a battle for bathroom privileges, too. Even his favourite spot in the hammock was taken up by somebody new at every sunset.

The house has never felt smaller.

And then you’re stumbling down the hallway in that very same house, kisses growing more urgent and heated in a way that makes it difficult to move forward.

Hands roaming over each other’s bodies like you’re mapping territory. And there’s strength in Quinn’s embrace. The controlled power that made you feel safe and cherished all the same.

You barely make it through the bedroom door, lips never parting. His fingers fumble with the lock before you’re even inside and then it’s swinging shut behind you with a thud.

“Finally,” Quinn mutters against your skin.

“We’ve got to be quick, okay?” You tell him. It wouldn’t be long until the fire turns to hot coals and your friends decide to call it a night. He only hums in response. “Quinn, I’m serious.”

He grins into the kiss. “Okay. I promise.”

You tug Quinn’s tee over his head and press palms against his back, feeling every dip and curve of his roping muscles. You lean in closer, chest flush with his.

Quinn slowly moves his mouth across your cheek…along your jaw…moving lower, grazing against sensitive skin right over your pulse point.

“Oh,” you gasp, melting into his body, and hands finding their way into his hair.

Fingers drop down your sides, gripping greedily at the material of your sweater and he pushes it up enough so he can make a start on unbuttoning your shorts. Before he even has a chance to remove the garment himself, you’re clutching hastily at the sweater, which is really just Quinn’s that he had given up trying to get back, and pull it from your frame.

He stands back for a brief moment once you’re almost undressed, taking you all in. He thinks you’re so… so…

“So pretty,” he murmurs, pulling you in to meet your lips again.

He steps back, dragging you with him, until the back of his knees hit the edge of the mattress and he’s sinking down into the softness. You’re standing between his knees, clutching onto him for dear life. Afraid you’ll topple over if he ever lets you go. Dizzy with anticipation.

He presses an open mouth kiss to your sternum…a few more around your belly… and then he’s making his way back up to your chest to give the swell of your breasts some attention.

Your arms wrap around Quinn’s neck, head lolling back as the goose bumps raise across your skin.

“Your shorts…” you choke out, trying to hurry things along despite every fibre of your being eager to keep this going deep into the night.

He drops his hands to the waistband of his shorts and peels it from his skin, and then he starts tugging at the waistband of your panties, dropping spongy kisses to your waist as the cotton slackens and falls to the floor.

And when they do, you’re rushing to fill the space between you and straddle his hips. Lips meet in soft collision; slow and deliberate, but it’s desperate all the same. Warm hands trace the curve of your back, coaxing quiet moans to fall from your lips when your hips start rocking into him. Quinn relaxes into the mattress some more and in quick succession, you’re suddenly on your back and he’s between your thighs, mouth pressed against yours, hot and frantic. Chest to chest. Hips moving in long, drawn out strokes.

And then your lips are parting slightly, long enough for him to say, “fuck, I’ve missed this,” each second stretching to an eternity.

You pat his back when he starts to scatter kisses below your ear, thrusts slowing to a halt, trying to hurry him along. There is nothing you want less than to face your friends in the morning if they happen to hear any of this. “Quinn,” you whisper, a plea and reprimand all in one. “They’ll be back soon.”

Lips travel along your jaw and down your neck again, and your hands tangle through his hair, pulling him closer even as you try to remind him of reality. But reality feels far away. Banished by the heat that is building in this moonlit bedroom.

Hands run down your side and dig into your waist before hitching one of your legs over his hip, and he rolls into your body deliberately slow. Again and again. Eliciting sweet sound after sweet sound from your pretty little mouth, hot breath against his neck, and it’s driving him wild.

He shivers. The feeling of you beneath him, body arching into his touch. It’s intoxicating. He just wants to lose himself in this moment and forget everything else. To etch it into memory. Every second, every heartbeat. Warm skin and quiet moans. The smell of your shampoo with his face tucked into the crook of your neck. It fuses together into a heady mix which makes it hard to think or care about anything else.

But you won’t let him forget where you are.

You push his hair out of his eyes and caress his cheek, bringing his face up from your neck, eyes locking for a heartbeat before you kiss him. “I really hate to rush this but—” you start to say, lips lingering over his.

“Then don’t,” he mutters, cutting you short. He runs a hand up and down your torso before pinning your body to the mattress with a hand on your waist. He grinds into you again, still deliciously slow. Savouring it. And if you didn’t know any better, he’s teasing you.

And then he sits up so he’s kneeling between your thighs, and your legs fall around him. He rubs his shoulder with his chin, trying to hide a smirk but it’s there despite his efforts. “Why are you thinking about them anyway? Should be thinking about me,” he tells you, hips grinding into yours, abs clenching.

You bite back a grin, teeth sinking into your swollen bottom lip. “Trust me, I am thinking about you. But if our friends come back and hear us, I’ll be thinking about murder.”

A chuckle vibrates through Quinn’s chest. “Fair point,” he concedes, leaning over you so your chests are flush. Lips finds yours again, demanding your attention.

With the snapping of his hips, rhythm quickening, you give it to him. Stars blurring your vision. Hands roaming fevered skin, tracing the contours of his body with a reverence of desperation. Ache bubbling under your skin. Breaths coming out in ragged gasps.

“Quinn,” you say through gritted teeth between a moan, nails scraping down his back, overcome with a storm of sensations. The friction. The pressure. It’s all too much.

It spurs him on. Driving him to the edge of sanity and back again, chasing the elusive promise of release. And you’re no different. Clasping at the sheets, struggling to hold on. His movements grow more frantic with each passing second. The short, sharp whimpers you’re letting fall from your lips push him back to the precipice.

He shifts slightly, adjusting his angle, and suddenly hits a spot so divine that you’re unable to spare a word. The stars behind your eyes becoming more vivid as you surrender to the ecstasy that pulses between you both, a tempest that rages unchecked in the darkness. Through the haze, you hear the telltale sound of heavy footsteps on the patio, signalling the return of your friends.

“We’re gonna get caught,” you gasp, very much aware that you’re stating the obvious, panicked. Nails dig crescent moons into his shoulders, urging him on even as you try to anchor him to reality.

Quinn's breath hitches, a low, guttural moan escaping as he teeters on the brink. "Baby, I'm—," his voice breaks. Deep and throaty moans reverberate through you, skin to skin, chest to chest. A plea for something that hovers just out of reach. “Almost there. Just a little more,” he whispers into your ear, voice a low and soothing murmur despite the urgency in his tone.

The world around you blurs.

Quinn’s breathing hitches again and he shudders, thrusts stuttering, and it’s the final push you need. His pleasure your catalyst. And with one last final desperate roll into your body, the coil of tension snaps and a wave of ecstasy washes over you both.

Starlight swapping for solar flares.

“Baby,” he whines and you wonder if he knows that he’s only making it harder for you to stay quiet.

The room spins. Eyes stinging. Mind blanking. Toes curling. Your fingers grasp at his hair, knuckles white. His head tucked into the crook of your neck, mouth pressed against your skin. Trying your damn hardest to keep your voices low but it’s hard. It’s raw. His teeth scrape over your throat as he grinds his jaw, groaning deeply. The waves keep crashing until it dissolves into nothing but heaving chests. His breath, your exhale.

There’s low murmurs in the hallway on the other side of the bedroom door. Footsteps shuffle on hardwood floors and then there are more heavy footsteps as whoever it is begins climbing the stairs.

“You promised we’d be quick,” you remind him, touching lips to the corner of his parted mouth.

Quinn chuckles softly, a playful glint in his eyes. He kisses you breathlessly, and then rolls off of you, crashing into the pillows. “That was quick,” he defends, feigning innocence.

#who doesn't love a lil summer loving quinny huh #quinn hughes fic #quinn hughes x reader #quinn hughes #quinn hughes imagine #quinn hughes blurb #quinn hughes fanfic #hockey fanfic #capquinn's writing

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hanasnx · 7 months ago

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thinking about hak fucking me dumb on his cock. folding me in half before stuffing me full. fucking me till my head is completely empty. only thing my poor dumb brain could process is the feeling of him stretching me out. the sound of his hips smacking against me. those sweet coos of praise as he makes me cum over n over. talking me through it, the room heady n thick w the scent of sex, bodies tacky w sweat, stuck together tightly while he rocks into me n im starry eyed, cumming on his cock w panted whimpers, n hes just nuzzled into my hairline to whisper encouragement of how fucking good i feel n im doing so well, cumming so pretty for him, while his arms flex n his abs tighten at how hard im creaming around him

take a bow.

HAK isn’t especially talkative during sex, save for the occasional comment that always has your insides begging to be screwed. Instead, he fills that silence with the language of his body, ardently conveying his desires as he folds you in half with his hands on your thighs. However, this is an exception. "H-Hak!" you choke out, but he lovingly hushes you, stroking your hair as he feeds his cock into your exposed hole from the position.

"Hold it right there for me, princess, don't move a muscle." he tells you with awe in his eyes and haste in his movements, introducing you to just the tip of him to let you get comfortable. You nod to him with artificial determination, squeezing your eyes shut as you adjust to him. His length is not only formidable, but his girth leaves nothing to be desired, thickly rutting into you to hollow out a place for himself. "Takin' it so good, baby, you want some'ore?" he murmurs in encouragement, and you nod again with a little whimper. A warm hand spans the base of your stomach, and you peep, peeling your eyes open as he holds your gaze with such a casually comforting expression. "Relax." he orders, but it's not a command, it's a strong suggestion. You breathe in deeply, and slack as much as you can while his hips swing in and out.

Gradually, and with a lot of groundwork, Hak is able to sheathe, and you're limp as a doll. A callused thumb affectionately strokes at your clit, puffy from stimulation. "Poor thing had to cum a couple times just to get me in, huh?" he taunts with a couple flicks of his hips, bobbing your whole body with such minuscule force. You whine from his cruelty paired with the stinging pleasure of being filled, clutching tight around his neck as he bites at your lobe. He had half a mind to warn you he's gonna go harder now, but you wouldn't verbally react anyway. Instead, he sets a regular pace, and moans in your ear from low in his throat, showing you how good you feel. The quiet is filled with the sound of his cock plunging into your gooey center, the smack of skin on skin as he harvests his own pleasure from the throes of this bed, using your brainless body to do it. He's thinking of you, thinking of how to make you feel good, watching you intently in the dull light as your mouth hangs open and your eyes flutter closed, and in turn it sends a rush through him. He renders you practically lifeless as a sex toy with just the efforts of his cock pistoning into you.

It's not long before you're cumming again, all it takes is a little tickle to your clit as he fucks you. Cream oozes out from around his cock, your hole pulsing around his shaft, but he doesn't let up. Your walls are overstimulated, but you're so far gone you let him do whatever he wants, it doesn't matter what it is. You want him to use you. "Oh, yeah, baby. Just like that." he talks you through it, keeping up a steady pace with the roll of his thumb over your clit, letting you ride it out your full body spasms. "You're so easy. Feel like I could just do this." Leisurely, he moves in you while he toys with your sensitive bud, observing your reactions as you appear as though you're reaching another orgasm. "Fuck, princess, how many is that already? Wanna do a couple more?" For the first time, you're able to gain autonomy of your own anatomy, clutching at him wherever you can reach to meekly shake your head. "No?" he confirms, amused. A wolfish grin stretches onto his lips as he cruelly tests you, his deft finger curls and straightens over your clit, swiping at it in a harsh manner.

"You're being mean!" you whine, banging your fist against his chest.

"You could make it harder for me, you know."

"Hak!" you chide and he snickers at you.

"I'll be nicer. I'll be nicer." he concedes, lowering himself to encase you with his body, sweetly moving his hips to sheathe and unsheathe completely. You pant over his shoulder, tangling your fingers in his hair to ground yourself as he drives his cock into you. The room is heated by your efforts, and your skins are tacky with sweat, the salt mixing with saliva as he leaves a series of passionate open-mouthed kisses along the column of your neck. "I can't get over how good you feel, never felt anything like it." he speaks against your shoulder, ending it with a generous lick. "Where've you been all my life, huh? Where's this cunt been hiding?"

There's a familiar tenseness in your stomach that lets him know another one is brewing, and he doesn't dare upset the pace. He keeps talking to you, pulling back for better leverage as you meet his gaze with stars in your eyes. A dreamy smile curls the corners of your mouth as you feel that sweet warmth bloom in your body, nearing you to the edge. "Cum for me, pretty girl, wanna see you do it one more time." With that, you release, more powerful than before. Your back arches off the bed, and protectively he holds you through it, pressing you chest to chest with him as he licks your insides with the head of his cock. Your sweet cream spurts out from around him, dripping to the covers as nuzzles your damp hairline. His hard body against yours, you can feel his every muscle, but he's gentle when he coos praises about how good you did for him.

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asoulofstars · 2 years ago

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Riona had felt...so lost. They had barely landed when Thanos had snapped half of the population away. Including Fandral. So, here she was, a single mother to a three and one year old, and then another three year old who had lost both his parents and having a stranger (not that she was really a stranger anymore) step in, and she was heavily pregnant with her and Fandral's third. She hadn't known what she was going to do, not really. Not until Margot Rogers-Barnes had joined them in New Asgard and settled into her life. Margot was able to help her feel anchored again, in this world that she didn't know how to navigate.

Josie, Soll, and Niklas were all with Thor. Having the children did help, but Riona knew it was not enough. It was hard, and she hated every minute of it. Niklas was at least bonding with his half-siblings.

She didn't know how she had convinced Margot to get her into ice skates, especially in her condition. She could barely see her feet, and she was ready to pop any day. But it was a distraction, which she desperately needed, because the thought of having to give birth and do this all again without Fandral was terrifying.

"Do you really?" she asked in response to Margot's compliment. "Because I feel like my wings are the only thing helping me actually stay upright."

But she giggled anyways, and she squeezed Margot's hand tight.

"Who's they?" Riona asked, knowing better than to turn her head and look in the same direction Margot did. She'd certainly tumble if she did. "I wonder if they're going to get Thor and get him to tell me that I should be sitting down." She rubbed her stomach, and the baby kicked at her in response. "Fandral and I never even got to discuss your name, Little One," she whispered.

☆ riona & margot ☆

@asoulofstars

dev tea room - day three ⛸ :: ice skating in the park when you see a figure sneaking off into the trees

☆ it took Margot all of two months to realize she couldn’t stay in the compound any longer. Being there was a constant reminder of all the people they were missing; all the people she was missing. Margot had lived with ghosts before, but never in a space so big that allowed her to rattle around with them so violently. There were parts of the compound she refused to go into at all, because even though there were people that survived the snap itself, they didn’t stick around afterwards. Her family had been fractured during the accords and the snap had all but shattered it. Margot was maybe the only one that didn’t bother trying to blame anyone for it. She had watched how it had all fallen apart, and the roles they all played in it.

there was no right or wrong; just broken.

so the first chance she got, Margot went to visit Thor in New Asgard, not that she really got to see much of him. Thor was battling his own demons, and for all she lost, Margot was starkly reminded that he’d lost his entire planet just before they lost half the universe’s population. The survivor’s guilt was suffocating, and she didn’t have the words to make that better. Instead, she put her energy into his people. She was one of the few people uniquely qualified to help them. She had experience with people from other world’s and she was a Midguard native; she could help them rebuild here. Besides, helping them gave her a distraction from all the parts of her own life that were slowly sliding out of place.

the only real saving grace was that she was still in therapy, and though her therapist had been afraid that she was running away at first ( she had been ) even she had to agree that the move was doing her some good. If nothing else, it brought her to Riona and the kids, and that had brought a sense of peace in her life that Margot had long been missing. Having grown up with a single parent, she knew how difficult it was, and she reckoned having two that were on the younger side was enough to be overwhelming sometimes. So Margot had offered her assistance. She was surprisingly good at babysitting, despite not having a ton of experience with children. Margot had just the right amount of patience, just the right amount of willingness to be a kid and to be the responsible adult all at once, to handle looking out for the littles.

but sometimes, it was nice getting to just spend time with Riona too. Though Margot was relatively new to adulthood, it was nice getting to spend time with other adults while she adjusted to it. Margot, for all intents and purposes, was easing into it. She had spent the last couple years fighting for her life, and trying to maintain her own freedom. Now, she wasn’t all that sure what she wanted to do with her future, she just knew she wanted to help people, and she could do that here. Case in point, she’d help them set up the ice rink when it had finally gotten cold enough to build one. It was a human activity, sure, but something she thought the Asgardians might enjoy, and so far, she’d been proven right.

white skates laced up nice and tightly, Margot held Riona’s hands in hers as she carefully gilded them around the rink. It wasn’t freezing out, thankfully, but cold enough that she had a fleece three quarter zip over her sweatshirt and a pair of light gloves covering her hands. ‘ I really think you’re getting the hang of this, Ona, ‘ she grinned. Out of all the winter activities out there, skating was arguably Margot’s favorite, and she was glad to share it with the other woman. ‘ how are you feeling about it so far? ‘ she asked. Margot guided them across the ice, going backward while she pulled Riona with her. She did a slight double take as she watched a figure lingering in the forest. That wasn’t altogether overly suspicious and yet, it was enough to make Margot’s eyebrows knit together.

turning them slightly, she looked at Riona and then back at the woods, ‘ where do you suppose they’re going? ‘ she asked, knowing exactly how paranoid she sounded as soon as the words left her mouth.

#wintershieldedheart #v: starry whispers

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spicerackofblorbos · 3 months ago

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-> link to event info and masterlist

Stargazing - The Neighbourhood Death Island Leon S. Kennedy x afab!Reader

Push until it pops, tryna clear my thoughts Better keep the ac on for me, not enough. Windows start to fog, clothin' coming off Making it too hot, you got me thinking Pull it out of park, put it in drive I can feel your heart beatin’ with mine. Underneath the stars, lookin' for a sign Glowin' in the dark til the sun shines.

☾ content/warnings ➼ Death Island Leon, smut (MDNI), car sex, semi-public sex, afab!reader, p in v, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it bbys), use of baby as pet name, slightly dominant Leon ☾ wc ➼ ~1.9k (it's not favoritism I swear! (lies))

The night had started off as pure as it could be given the circumstances of where y’all were. Leon had swung by around 8PM, picking you up in his old mustang that he put back together over a whole summer last year. For tonight’s date, he was taking you to the drive-in movies where they were showing the newest action movie of the season. He was adorable when he suggested it, how could you say no?

Leon wanted to get a spot in the back. He said it was because the screen was so large that it was better from that distance, and that happens to be a good thing. Because, fifteen minutes into the movie, you feel his large, calloused palm sliding up and down the inner side of your thigh.

“Leon, what are you doing?” You ask, resting your elbow on the open window with your head propped up. Your head turns in his direction to see him feigning focus on the film ahead. The faint sounds of shooting guns and screams weave through the air from the speakers and radios in people’s cars.

“Just making sure you’re still with me.” He leans his head back on the headrest, lolling to the side to face you with a lopsided grin.

“If I didn’t know any better, I would think you’re being a little too frisky in a very public place.” You raise an eyebrow at him. Despite your words, you can’t squash the arousal of the idea of being taken right here.

“And if I was?” His hand reaches up to gently grab your chin, forcing you to face him.

“Leon!” You hiss, your eyes searching for any semblance of a joke.

While there are hints of humor in his baby blues, there’s not a single trace of jest.

“You can back out, you know. But something tells me you won’t.” He taunts, leaning forward to slowly capture your lips in his, warm and gentle. His stubble pokes into your face as you can’t help but to melt into his touch. You can feel him smiling against your lips at yet another triumph.

“Shaddup.” You say before placing both hands on Leon’s face, holding him closer. The sounds of shifting can be heard as you and Leon face each other in your respective seats, lip-locked with each other.

After what seems like an hour, you both pull apart, a trail of saliva connecting you both before splitting in the middle.

“Mr. Kennedy, you are trouble.” You whisper.

Leon can’t focus on anything other than the throbbing in his pants and the look of your swollen lips and starry eyes.

“That’s what I’m told.” He smirks before turning on the AC and rolling up his tinted windows. Like a child, he smiles mischievously before locking the doors and turning around to wiggle into the backseat over the center console. It’s not graceful by any means, and you can’t help but laugh at the silly visual of his ass in the air as he tries not to hurt himself.

“Careful, old man.” You say lovingly.

Eventually, he makes it to the backseat, sitting in the middle and facing you. With a smirk, he pats his spread legs, asking an unspoken question.

Are you going to join me?

With a big eye roll and a sigh, you comply. You’re a little more graceful as you make your way back just like he did, giggling as you do. It’s almost as if you were both back in high school, 30’s be damned.

When you make it back there, before you move anywhere else, Leon grabs you by the hips and sits you down on his lap, now you’re facing him with your plush chest straight into his face. From this position, you can feel just how aroused he is for you.

“You didn’t bring me out here just to fuck me, did you?” You tease, pulling back to look down at your boyfriend.

“No, but it’s a bonus. We’ll just rent the movie later.” He smiles up at you before pinching your chin between his forefinger and thumb, tilting your face down to his to capture your lips in his again, this one heated.

While he nips at your bottom lip, he slides his hands under your shirt to feel the curves of your waist and up to your chest. One hand slides to the small of your back, the other tugs down one of your bra cups before enveloping your soft breast in his large hand, his fingers squeezing it as if it were made of memory foam. Slowly, he trails kisses down your jaw and to your neck, licking at your sensitive skin before sucking on it gently. The multiple areas of attack rewards Leon with a few of your soft moans.

Unconsciously, you start rolling your hips, your now soaked heat rubbing against Leon’s very obvious reaction to you. A hiss escapes between his teeth at that. Your hands tug up his shirt, him getting the hint right away. Awkwardly, he grabs the hem of the thin clothing, pulling it over his head before throwing it into the driver’s seat.

“Your turn.” Leon growls, grabbing the hem of your shirt and practically ripping it off you. He doesn’t stop there, reaching behind to unclasp your bra and letting the material slide off your arms and onto the carpeted floor of the car.

“You’re so fucking pretty.” He leans forward to capture your hardened nipple in his teeth gently, flicking his tongue out at it before enveloping your breast into his hot mouth. After a few seconds, Leon let’s go with a ‘pop’ before looking up at you. “So fucking perfect, you know that?” He sticks his tongue out and trails it over to your other breast, doing the same as he did with the other one. His hands slide down your sides and hips before resting on your ass, fingers squeezing hard as he leaves gentle bite marks on your soft skin.

“Want you…” You pant out, looking down at him with half-lidded eyes. “Want more of you.” You breathe out. Your hands at this point had slid up into Leon’s brunette hair, tangling your fingers in his soft locks as you lean down, pressing your chest up against his while you meet his lips again, pouring every ounce of love and obsession you have for this man.

While he parts your mouth with his tongue, allowing it to explore, he lifts your ass up until you’re on your knees. Quickly he finds the buttons to your shorts, undoing them as well as the zipper with deft fingers. You break away to help him, awkwardly wiggling out of them and your underwear and discarding them on the floor to keep your bra company.

Leon can’t help it, he cups your heat with his large palm before sliding it up, letting his fingers gather a bit of your arousal that you’ve been leaking this whole time. He brings those fingers to his mouth and sucks on them while staring at you. “And so fucking delicious.” He continues from his previous statements.

While you were on your knees, he took no time to unbuckle and unbutton his jeans, lifting his hips up to tug them down with his boxers until his large cock springs free, his tip angry red and glistening with pre-cum.

“Ride me, baby. Show me how much I mean to you.” Leon demands, his hands sitting on your hips and squeezing.

Gently, he guides you to where you’re hovering over his length, his tip teasing your entrance. With a bite of your bottom lip, you lower down, taking him slowly until you’re at his hilt as you moan softly. You don’t move, taking the time to adjust to his size. Leon leans forward again, giving you a bruising kiss, sliding one of his hands up your stomach, through the valley of your breasts, and up and around your neck as he holds you there.

Together, you both start moving. His hand on your hip helps guide you up and down while you use your knees as leverage, rocking into him. Soon enough, the car is filled with harmonious moans and the quiet slapping of skin. Even with the AC on, the car feels hot. The windows start to fog with every heavy breath from the two of you.

Leon’s lips make their way back to your neck, nipping and sucking, no doubt leaving a mark for you to see in the morning.

Good, he thinks. You’re his, everyone needs to know that.

Both large hands find purchase on your ass again, his fingers squeezing tight as he helps you slam down on him more.

“Fuck, you feel so good, baby. Taking me so well.” Leon groans, his toes curling from the tightness of your heat, so warm and so familiar to him.

“L-Leon..” You whimper, leaning forward as you wrap your arms around Leon’s neck, holding him close and tangling your fingers in his hair again. From this position, his body provides much needed friction against your sensitive clit that you can feel your impending climax coming sooner than later. “I’m gonna-” Your moan cuts off from Leon grabbing your hair and pulling you down into a heated kiss.

“Cum for me.” He demands against your lips, capturing your bottom lip in his and sucking. He reaches down with a hand and uses his thumb to circle your sensitive bud, helping you along.

Leon can tell by the clenching of your walls that you’re just a moment from coming undone, so he presses his lips against yours, swallowing your moans as you convulse on top of him. Your nails dig into Leon’s scalp as you ride your orgasm, the bliss so strong that you can see stars behind your eyelids.

“Fu-uck” Leon groans as he continues to rut into you, chasing his high from the feeling of your clenching walls and the sounds of your moans. With one more thrust up into you, he stills as he shoots thick white ropes into you, his head thrown back on the seat rest as he whines out your name.

There’s a moment of silence between you two, the only noises heard are the heavy pants shared between you both as well as the muffled words and sound effects from the movie still playing on the big screen.

You slump over, resting your head on Leon’s shoulder as you feel his now softening cock twitch inside you. He wraps his arms around your waist and holds you close, placing a soft kiss on your sweaty temple.

“Do you even know what movie we went to go see?” You ask finally, breathing now back to normal, but you still don’t move off him.

“Absolutely not.” Leon chuckles, kissing your forehead this time. “We can just go to my place and watch a movie there.”

You sit up and stare at him incredulously. He only stares back with a raised eyebrow.

“Are we actually watching it or are you going to run your hands up my thighs again?”

“Only one way to find out.” He gives you another lopsided grin.

#sky.events.summerofsongs #i just wrote the fuck outta this at 2am #not beta read we die like men #leon s kennedy #leon kennedy #leon kennedy smut #leon s kennedy smut #leon s kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x reader #x reader #resident evil #resident evil death island #leon kennedy death island #Spotify

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boopshoops · 2 months ago

Text

Shoopy's Mooties!

HEY YOU. Do you like amazing human beings?? Amazing human beings who happen to be on tumblr? BOY OH BOY DO I HAVE JUST THE THING FOR YOU-

This list will be constantly updated :D lmk if i accidentally miss you or if you want me to call you something else! I'm going to keep my tag for asks as #boopshoopsramblings, making a separate tag for everyone of yall who enters my inbox would be too much for me aaAA

Nownow, I'm well aware this is a long list, but that doesn't mean I value my mooties any less <3 i like seeing each and every one of yall cross my dash!

@rizdoodls - riz!

@patchyegg87 - patchy!

@skriblee-ksk - kris!

@pawnyao - paw!

@cruel-acid - acid!

@gracelyngrausamkeit - gracelyn!

@neige-leblanche / @luminessdoodles - lu/lumi!!

@hamstergal / @twstinginthewind - nette!

@robo-milky - milky!

@br3adtoasty - toasty!

@puowei - puo!

@sunny2ply - dain!

@galaxygirl-katie27 - katie!

@starry-night-rose - ellis!

@kitwasnothere / @kitwasheree - kit!

@revolllutionary / @revivemyreverie - rev/kan!

@fruixtii - fruity!!

@artfulhero-m - maddie!

@lowcallyfruity - lux/honeydew!

@ashipiko - ashi!

@ceruleancattail - ceru!

@cecilebutcher / @twst-stupid-ocs - cecile!

@hallowed-delights /@terrovaniadorm - mercedes!!

@driedupeyeballs - ash/wasp!

@kirexa - kiri!

@shinysparklesapphires - sapphy!

@precariii - MY WIFE!!!

@the-v-lociraptor - v-lociraptor!

@drdepper - depper!

@cheerleaderman - Janjan!

@techno-danger - techno!

@scint1llat3 / @crystallizsch - ian!

@twsted-canvas - eri!!

@mhedusard - mhedusard!

@oya-oya-okay - oya!

@1dont-really-know - whisper!

@deeva-arud - deeva/udi!

@jewelulu - lulu!

@thelamentknight - stephanie!

@bednbunfast - lee!

@thehollowwriter - quinn!

@valse-a-mille-temps - valse!

@thetwstwildcard - lyss!

@fell-e - felle!

@winterwriterstudios - winter!

@mllemony - pookie besty/lemony!

@distant-velleity - kai/vii!

@cynthinesia - cynthia!

@lemonrin-i - rin/lemon!

@cyanide-latte - cyanide!

@natsukishinomiyaswife - sheepy!

@prince-kallisto - kallisto!

@chaoticfireshrimp - wilbur!

@reinbouxsworld - reinboux!

@ice-cweam-sod4 - ice cweam!

@forgwater - forg!

@elenauaurs - elena!

@rabioa - rabioa/rabit!

@bunnwich - bunn!

@v-anrouge - aster!

@inotonline - inotonline!

@the-trinket-witch - trinket!

@writing-heiress - heiress!

@theleechyskrunkly - leechy!

@nammanarin - nammanarin!

@evilcokito - coco!

@rainesol - rain!

@kathxrat-01 - wens/cathy!

@kaevch - ryu!

@moon-mage - moon!

@stormyscrapez - storm/ian/envy!

@oathofoaks / @ramshacklerumble - gar/gee!

@honeynclove - clove/piers!

@cloudedgalaxies - clou!!

@tixdixl - seris!

@attollogame - ames!

@saikira999 - kira!

@raven-at-the-writing-desk - raven!

@nicoliharu - nicoli!

@y-cherries - cherry!

@h0ney-blossom - deerl!

@oheyfox - renny!

@sadhappyface - happyface!

@cesavi13 - cesavi!

@eternalblizzards - yari/frei!

@weirdbell - weirdbell!

@eldritch-alicedoll - alicia/alice!

@cosmonavo - cosmonavo!

@rayroseu - Lian!

@althea-and-alcestris - alethea and alcestris!

@oseathepebble - mari/marc/pebble!

@lumdays - lum!

@jovieinramshackle - harry!

@oyatochie / @clovenoko - hagi/oyachi!

@galaxies-and-gore - dahlia!

@midostree-art - mido!

@beneathsakurashade - kanae!

@le-monchou - soru!

@dibbledoodle - dibbs/dibble!

@cheekinpermission - cheekin!

@datboredpencil - datboredpencil!

@h2llish - devil!!

@raguiras - mionn!

@sparklespecks / @offorestsongs - algernon/algy!

@nyx-of-night - nyx!

@queensharotto / @diamondcrownacademy - sharotto!

@nuitthegoddess - nuit!

@cloudiepuffs - cloudy!

@amethystjewel01 - amey/AJ!

@m4ggot5 - maggot!

@lpendergast - luka!

@stephiethewephie - stephie!

@ghostdandyandco - mi!

@authoruio - uio!

@sleepyheadincoulds - sleepy!

@nemisisnemi - nemi!

@4necdote - barbs/barbara!

@amatsuchan-eiliniel - amatsuchan/jessie!

@leafsei - leaf!

@theolivetree123 - olive!

@justm3di0cr3 - addie!

@alledeuce - alledeuce!

@bunniescribbles - sofia!

@sowrennie - sowrennie!

@qsoap - townie/sofia!

@miyurains - miyu!

@h0neybane - evelyn!

@moonjellybeans - luna!

@mirioho - jaz!

@gl00myb3arz - sophie!

@axel-the-goat-guy - axel!

@bunniehunn - bun/bunnie!

@cloudcountry - auburn!!

@miyuki-fenn - froggy/miyuki!!

@dekaph - kaph!

@sillyslipperybananapeel - lilian/silly!

@snowwhite0430 - rin/snow!

@gg33z0 - gee!

@viperbunnies - tato/tater!

@sillyful-jua - jua!!

@tenrohhk - hornet!

@sunanthonyz - anthony!!

@ephemii - mal!

@vivihitspostlimit / @vivigoesinsaneagain - vivi!

@moonyasnow - moony!

@kirans-wonderland - kir/kiran!

@apieceoffoliage - foliage!

@gimmeurmoneyagh - mimi/marmalade!

TAG LIST

Note: you do not have to be a moot for this! Please ask if you want to be added or removed <3

@lowcallyfruity @skriblee-ksk @kitwasnothere @cecilebutcher @justm3di0cr3

@techno-danger @thehollowwriter @scint1llat3 @the-trinket-witch @distant-velleity

@beneathsakurashade @twsted-canvas @prince-kallisto @qsoap @kathxrat-01

@sillyslipperybananapeel @twstinginthewind @tixdixl

#boopshoopsramblings #important #sorry for all the tags!#this took me ten bajillion years so there may be some mistakes 🙇‍♀️

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evanpeterswhoresblog · 6 months ago

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High Infidelity

Regulus Black x f!reader, Sirius Black x f!reader (mentioned)

warnings: smut, unprotected p in v, slight mention of fingering, underage drinking, cheating sorry guys i couldn’t stop myself

summary: your boyfriend sirius and his friends have never felt welcoming. but his little brother is…

word count: 5.3k

a/n: once again i’m bad at summaries so basically you fuck regulus spoiler alert hahaha. inspired by taylor swift of course. she’s been inspiring too much smut from me tbh. anywaysss. hope you enjoy (my sneaky link “broke up” w me today and i’m devastated) so here’s this !!!

~~~

April 20, 1978

“That’s precisely what I was thinking Moony!”

“Are you sure Padfoot? I got the understanding that it was you and Prongs who shared thoughts.”

“I second that.”

“Honestly I believe if James didn’t have Lily, you blokes would be together.”

“Definitely.”

“Well, Sirius also has y/n as well.”

You felt the boy beside you brush your shoulder with his, and you gave him a smile. “Oh, yes.”

The conversation continued, but you zoned out once again. You played with the vegetables on your plate and tapped your foot. Anxiety was a common thing you felt during meals with your boyfriend and his friend group. They were wonderful, but you always felt they had something secretly against you.

You were a year younger than your boyfriend, you were in Slytherin, you were pureblood, and you were cordial with the other members of your house. You weren’t stupid enough to believe the Marauders didn’t suspect something bad of you, or the Gryffindor girls. Some of them were muggle born and while you didn’t care much for blood purity, you could tell they thought you did.

When you and Sirius had begun dating a few months earlier, you were far from oblivious to the initial disapproval of his friends. You could see the skeptical looks Lily would share with her friends; you could hear the small whispers in classes. It didn’t bother you at first, in fact, you understood their distrust. You thought it would go away with time. But by the end of your second month dating their friend, you realized it was never going to change.

Your relationship with Sirius in short was far from perfect. You liked him, of course, and he liked you. However, it was clear neither of you saw it lasting forever. Deep in the corners of your mind, you’d thought it that before, a life with the infamous Sirius Black. You imagined the two of you would get your own flat after you graduated, you’d be shunned of course by your family, but it wouldn’t matter because you’d have him. Realistically though, you knew that life would never be possible. If he didn’t care enough to tell you why he sneaks off on full moons, if he didn’t care enough to let you in on jokes, if he didn’t care enough to even assure his friends fully that you weren’t like the rest of your house, you’d never have a life with him.

Without thinking about it, your eyes drifted across the great hall to a certain person in your house. He sat straight with a smile on his face as he conversed with his mates. A piece of his hair was in his eye, you watched as he brushed it away. You always wondered why people said he wasn’t as good-looking as his brother. He was just as handsome in your opinion. He was tall, his eyes were starry, and his black curls were never frizzy. His accomplishments spoke for themself. Top of the year, star seeker for Slytherin, prefect, he was the ideal boy. His only flaw in your eyes was his obsession with Voldemort and blood purity. Though your family and his were close in that aspect, you never cared much for the topic. He did though.

Suddenly, his eyes met yours. You watched his smile falter for a few seconds and a different expression formed. You looked away quickly, your cheeks turned pink. That wasn’t the first time you’d been caught staring at Regulus Black during dinner. It was far from it.

~~~

That night you sat alone by the fire in your common room. You’d been invited up to Sirius’s dorm with a promise that the other Marauders wouldn’t be there, but you declined. Sirius was a great shag; it would be impossible for him not to be with how many girls he’d been with. Truthfully, you didn’t like the number of girls that came before you, but you never said anything. You simply weren’t in the mood that night for any more patronizing looks, so you opted to silently work on homework instead.

After some time of working, the door opened. You instinctively looked up and found your pulse quicken as you were met with the beautiful eyes of Regulus Black. He was with his friends, Barty Crouch Jr, and Evan Rosier, but his eyes were on you. You looked down at the sheets of paper in your lap and pretended to not notice the sound of Regulus telling his friends to go up to their dorm without him. When they left though, you were forced to drop the act.

“I thought you’d be up in the Gryffindor tower with all your blood traitor and mudblood friends,” he said after taking a few steps closer to you.

You swallowed and kept your eyes on your paper. “I wasn’t in the mood, and they aren’t really my friends.”

“Really? Y/n you’re shagging my brother I’m not daft.”

He was slowly getting closer; you could see his shoes in your peripheral vision. You subconsciously held your breath. You kept your composure as well as you could.

“Great observation Reg, not as if the whole school knows that. And besides, since when have you cared about that?”

“I always care when someone with blood as pure as yours taints it with someone like my blood traitor brother,” he replied as if it were obvious. “Plus, if you have forgotten I’ve caught you staring at me at least a dozen times within the past month.”

Your cheeks turned bright red. “About that-”

“Look at me.”

His sudden authority made a warm feeling spread in your stomach. Slowly, you lifted your head to look up at him. He was close, barely a foot away. There was an expression on his face you once again couldn’t fully understand. You watched him examine your blushing face in silence.

“Go on then, explain yourself,” he said after a few seconds.

“I didn’t mean to; it was just an... accident,” you mumbled, your eyes moving around the room as you spoke.

Regulus tisked and without warning bent down slightly and gently touched his fingers to your chin. You were speechless. “I prefer to be looked at when spoken to y/n it’s a sign of respect. Can you do that?” You nodded and he moved to his previous position of standing. “Continue.”

“Like I said it was an accident, I sort of space out a lot and I guess my eyes go back to our table,” you continued. You stared in his eyes the entire time as your heart began to beat in your ears.

“I would’ve believed that if it had happened only once or twice, but this has been quite a few times. What is Sirius not fulfilling you enough?”

“No, it’s nothing like that he’s great I just... I dunno. You’re just...” You found it hard to speak with his eyes on you. “I dunno all right? Let’s just forget it’s ever happened yeah?”

It was the truth. You really didn’t know what it was that made you stare at him. It was just something. He fascinated you with his complexity. Sirius was outgoing and popular, but Regulus was closed off and reserved. He’d only had one known girlfriend in Hogwarts, he only talked to his friends, and he was mysterious. He was the opposite of his brother. And you found it perplexing.

“If you say so,” he spoke after a moment. Then he turned and started to walk toward the staircase to the boy's dorm. But before he was too far, he looked back at you with a sliver of a smirk. “You can talk to me though, if you need to. You don’t have to simply stare because my brother is insecure.”

He disappeared up the stairs before you could reply. And you spent the rest of the evening with his words replaying in your head.

~~~

April 22, 1978

You sat at lunch; Sirius’s arm was draped over your shoulders, and he shook as he laughed hysterically at something James said. You tried to put on a fake smile, but you weren’t sure how convincing it was. There was something about the way Sirius held you that made you feel off. You felt almost trapped. You felt as though you were being tested or put on display.

As if it was a sixth sense, your eyes looked at the one table you’d been purposely avoiding. He was already looking at you, it caused your breath to catch in your throat. For a few seconds, the two of you stared at each other, what felt like a mutual feeling of understanding was communicated through your eyes. So, when he nodded to the doorway you understood completely what he wanted. And you agreed.

“I’ve got to run down to my dorm I just remembered I forgot my essay for McGonagal.” You made up an excuse. From across the hall, you noticed Regulus already walking toward the exit. “I should go get it before class.”

Sirius dropped his arm from your shoulders and smiled. “You’re too forgetful y/n/n, but be quick I was hoping to get a quick snog in before that dreadful class.”

“Right, I’ll be as quick as I can,” you said as you stood up. You leaned down and pressed a kiss to his cheek, ignoring the eyes that were on you. “Don’t have too much fun without me.”

“I could never!” He exclaimed as you began to walk away.

Truthfully, you weren’t too sure of where Regulus went. You relied on the gut feeling in your stomach to guide you. With anxiety and anticipation flowing through your body, you made your way down a few halls before you found an abandoned classroom. The door was open a sliver, and somehow you knew it was the one.

He was inside, leaning on one of the desks with his arms crossed over his chest. “Close the door.”

You didn’t hesitate to listen to his request. Once it was closed you turned back to face him. “I don’t... I don’t really know what to say.”

“You looked like you needed to escape, you don’t have to talk,” he replied. His face was almost soft. “Am I the only one who knows how you feel?”

“You don’t know how I feel,” you mumbled.

Regulus rolled his eyes. “Just because you haven’t told me doesn’t mean I can’t read your face. It’s almost unbearable how miserable you look while you sit there. Why do you do it?”

You only stared at him, almost starstruck. Has he always been so observant? Or was your pain noticeable? You didn’t know what came over you, but you only acted on it. Before you could stop yourself, you moved across the room until you were barely a foot away from him. Regulus has always been perceived as cold and rude, but in that moment, he looked at you with sincerity no one could deny. Regulus knew you. That was all it took.

Without another thought you grabbed his tie and crashed your lips on his. His lips were soft and warm. Unlike his brothers, Regulus’s lips didn’t feel as though they’d been kissed thousands of times. He felt far less welcoming but nevertheless inviting. But your senses came flooding back fast and you pushed yourself away from him.

You stepped back and covered your burning lips with your hand. “Oh my... I’m- I’m so sorry I shouldn’t have. Fuck I’m terrible.”

“Y/n-”

“No, I can’t do this. I have to go.” You cut him off as you began to move to the door, tears forming in your eyes.

The last thing you heard was Regulus calling your name before you ran down to your dorm.

~~~

April 23, 1978

He was watching you. You could feel his eyes burning into you through every class and meal. Is that how he felt all those times you’d stared at him? It was uncomfortable, to say the least. You tried to pretend he wasn’t, you really did. But it was nearly impossible. You made sure you were accompanied by Sirius or one of your other friends throughout the entire day until you weren’t.

You were just running to the bathroom. You thought it would be quick enough for him to even notice you slipped out of class. It was stupid of you to think that. Just as you were about to enter the girl's bathroom, you felt a hand grab one of your wrists to stop you.

“You can’t avoid this y/n,” he said softly.

You inhaled sharply, refusing to look at him. “Let me go Regulus.”

“I don’t care about what happened and I’m not going to tell on you if that’s what you’re worried about,” he replied quickly.

“Then what do you want? I just- it was a mistake all right?” You felt your heart pounding in your chest. His hand was still on your wrist, your skin practically burned from the contact.

“Look at me.” His voice was hard. You turned slowly to look at him. His expression was soft, he looked almost... worried. “I know we’ve never been that close, but I suppose I’m now involved in your issues. You can talk to me; I want you to talk to me. You can’t keep all of whatever you’re feeling built up inside. It’ll only make you act out impulsively like yesterday.”

You let out a shaky breath. “It was a mistake. It should have never happened I was just... overwhelmed.”

“I know. And I don’t blame you.”

You hated how he said just the right words to make you fold completely.

“They don’t trust me. Even your brother. They seem to think I have some deep plot or that I want to murder the muggle-borns. It’s just... it’s too much Reg. I hate being constantly watched, it’s like they’re waiting for me to make a wrong move that proves their theories.”

“So, why don’t you leave?”

His question caught you off guard. Why didn’t you leave? You hadn’t really thought about it. Sure, you knew that you and Sirius were going to end eventually. But you hadn’t given much thought to how it would occur. Perhaps a mutual agreement? You didn’t know. And you told Regulus exactly that.

“Well, then it’s your fault you feel this way,” he replied.

You scoffed and pulled your wrist from his grip. “Thanks, Reg, you really know how to cheer a girl up.”

“Do you want me to lie and say it’s not your fault? Sorry, I’ll give it another go. It’s not your fault at all y/n, you’re being forced to be around my blood-traitor brother and all his mud-blood friends.” His voice was cold, but for some reason, it didn’t make you feel small. “Was that better?”

“Listen I know I have the choice but it’s just... it’s hard when you care about someone,” you said, ignoring his question.

He sighed and shook his head. “If leaving isn’t what you plan on, then I suppose you’ll have to settle on talking to Sirius about how you feel. I assume you haven’t done that yet?” You shook your head, and he rolled his eyes. “Then talk to him and see if maybe that helps.”

“But what if-”

“If he reacts badly then you break up with him, it’s not that hard to comprehend y/n. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to return to our class, so no one gets any more suspicious.” He cut you off.

You were left outside the girl's bathroom with your mind racing, and your wrist still tingling where Regulus had held it.

~~~

April 25, 1978

It took you over a day to muster up the courage to follow through with Regulus’s suggestion. No wonder you weren’t in Gryffindor. The opportunity for you to speak with Sirius alone came after lunch when the two of you had a free period. As usual, you spent most of the time up in Sirius’s bed. So, as the two of you laid next to each other, spent from another good time, you decided it was a good time to bring up how you felt.

“Sirius,” you spoke softly. Your head was on his chest, your fingers drawing circles on his skin. “Can I talk to you about something?”

“’ Course love, anything,” he replied sweetly.

You inhaled deeply and kept your head down. “We’ve been seeing each other for a decent amount of time now and I’ve enjoyed it very much, but it’s just...” You swallowed. “Your friends... they don’t accept me.”

“How do you mean?”

“Come on, don’t you see how they treat me? They always give me these looks; they whisper about me. I’m sure they’ve all voiced their concern about me to you,” you answered.

“They don’t mean it to make you feel bad, they just you know... Lily is muggle-born, and so is Mary.”

“I’m aware of that. That has nothing to do with me, you should know I don’t care about blood status.”

“Well yes but your house, the people you are friends with, they care. You can’t blame my friends for being weary.”

You sat up and looked at Sirius, suddenly full of anger. “I am not like the other people in my house, and it’s hypocritical for them to judge me based on that. Have I ever proven myself to be anything like the other Slytherins?”

“No, but-”

“But nothing Sirius. I’m not like them, and it hurts that you don’t even bother to make your friends believe that.” You cut him off. You got off his bed and began to gather your clothes. “It’s clear I’m not welcome here.”

“Y/n-”

You began to button your shirt. “No Sirius it’s fine, I understand. I thought you Gryffindors were supposed to be welcoming, I suppose that assumption was wrong too.”

Just as you were about to bend down to retrieve your tie, you felt Sirius’s warm hands on your hips. Instinctively, you turned to look at him. He stared up at you with a frown on his face. You hated how perfect he still looked with such a sour expression.

“You’re right, I should advocate for you more. I’ll do that from now on. You are nothing like the other Slytherins, you’re perfect y/n. I’m sorry for not catching on to this sooner.” His words were sincere, you could tell. It made your anger subside.

“Thank you,” you said, a small smile on your lips.

“Now, can you get back into bed for a little longer?” He asked.

You nodded with a chuckle and slid back beneath the sheets. Though you felt relieved and happy at the outcome of your conversation, you couldn’t help but think about what Regulus’s reaction to the news would be.

For some reason, you knew he wouldn’t be pleased.

~~~

April 26, 1978

His eyes searched your face; you tried your hardest to keep your expression neutral. The two of you were up in the astronomy tower, the glow of the moon and stars your only source of light. You didn’t know why you felt almost ashamed telling him about the conversation you had with Sirius. Something deep within you knew the outcome wasn’t what the younger Black brother wanted.

“I’m a bit confused,” he said after a moment of silence.

“What about?”

“If the conversation truly went as you say it did, why aren’t you happy?”

“What do you mean? I am happy. I think I even saw a bit of improvement today,” you answered honestly.

Regulus only shrugged and turned to look off the balcony. “Could’ve fooled me.”

“I really am happy Reg this is what I wanted. Now they won’t be so judgmental and perhaps I’ll start to finally feel welcomed,” you replied.

You stared at him for a minute. The soft glow of the moonlight illuminated his features in a way you’d never seen before. He was handsome. With his sharp jawline, his dark curly hair, and his prominent cheekbones how could he not be handsome?

Eventually, he turned his eyes back to you, and for a split second, your breath caught in your throat. There was something intense in his light eyes that you couldn’t decode. It made heat rush straight to your face.

“All right, if that’s what you want,” he said. “See you around.”

With that, he left. And you almost followed him, almost.

~~~

April 27, 1978

Something was wrong with you. Very wrong.

You couldn’t stop thinking about the one boy in Hogwarts you really shouldn’t have been thinking about. It was wrong, especially in the way you were thinking about him. You tried to distract yourself in every way you could. With your friends, with Sirius, with schoolwork. But nothing worked.

Perhaps it was the intense dream you’d had the previous night that kept your mind wandering. After all, who could simply brush off an intense sexual dream about their boyfriend's brother? It made you blush and feel ashamed each time it crossed your mind throughout the day. And when you saw Regulus around the school, you almost fell apart.

It was as though a switch had been flipped inside you. Gone were the innocent friendly thoughts you had about the younger Black brother. They were replaced by awfully inappropriate ones.

But you were determined to make them vanish. Because to act on such thoughts would be terrible.

Right?

~~~

April 28, 1978

Avoiding Regulus was hard given he was in almost all your classes, and he shared the same common room as you. But you tried your hardest. You spent the day clung to Sirius as much as you could, despite the fact you were upset with him. Being around him meant being away from his brother. That was the important thing.

Things between you and Sirius’s friends had not changed much. You wondered if he had even said anything to them. If he did, it didn’t seem like it. It hurt you, but it didn’t occupy your thoughts as much as it previously had.

Actually, it made you realize something you were too afraid to admit.

Regulus seemed to care more about your feelings than your boyfriend.

That thought scared you. And it only made your improper thoughts about him grow.

~~~

April 29, 1978

You sat up in the Astronomy tower with your legs dangling off the balcony, a bottle of firewhiskey beside you. For the first time in months, you couldn’t deal with your thoughts without a substance. Luckily your boyfriend had a stash of alcohol and was able to spare you a small bottle. So, you took it with a big thank you and practically ran up to the tower. You needed to clear your head. You needed to escape.

There was a slight breeze, it made you clutch your robe tighter around your body. The alcohol helped too. You took another swig, a sigh escaping your lips at the feeling. You liked the way it made your chest warm, and how it made the thoughts of Regulus fade.

Suddenly, you heard footsteps. You gathered the bottle into your robe but remained seated. Whoever it was, they’d catch you anyway. There weren’t many hiding spaces in the tower. So, you prepared for an angry Filch to scold you.

“I figured you’d be up here, your roommates said they hadn’t seen you, neither did my brother.” The gentle voice of the boy you were trying to avoid spoke.

You whipped your head around fast, your mouth hung open slightly. He was only a few feet away from you, and still getting closer. “You talked to him about me?”

“Told him we have a project together and he still wasn’t very welcoming. I see why you feel out of place now,” he answered as he lowered himself to sit beside you. “Care to share any of that with me?”

“Since when do you drink Mr. Prefect?” You questioned skeptically.

He shrugged. “I’ve indulged before, is that surprising? I am almost of age you know.”

“You just don’t seem like the type that’s all,” you replied honestly. You removed the bottle from under your robe and handed it to him. “I’m a bit ahead of you though.”

Regulus didn’t reply. Instead, he popped the cap off the bottle and took a few swigs. You watched carefully, unable to hide your smile when his face scrunched up from the bitterness. Even then, he was still beautiful.

“Wine is much better than this,” he said after a minute as he handed the bottle back to you.

You nodded. “Taste wise, yes, but this gets you drunk much faster.”

“Is that what you want? To get drunk?”

You nodded again and took a swig from the bottle. He had a point, firewhiskey tasted awful. But you needed it, especially since Regulus had caught you alone and even more because he looked far too good in the moonlight.

“I thought things were going to get better with my brother,” he spoke.

“I thought so too but it seems he isn’t good at keeping his word,” you replied with a frown.

Regulus chuckled and took the bottle again. “Well look at him, he’s a filthy blood traitor, what do you see in him?”

“He’s kind, outgoing, very fun to party with, and of course one of the most handsome boys in the school,” you answered. You couldn’t help but smile when Regulus rolled his eyes. “None of that matters though. We’ll be splitting up soon.”

“Yeah?”

The hope in his voice was undeniable. It made your heart rate quicken.

“Yeah. He’ll be leaving school soon and we never really planned to last this long anyway so it only makes sense that we’ll be splitting.”

As he handed you the bottle back, your fingers brushed. You held in your breath, your mouth suddenly felt dry, and a tingle began in the small place where his skin met yours. Your eyes met again and from the way his starry eyes suddenly appeared darker you knew he felt what you did.

You should’ve looked away. You knew you should’ve. You’d like to blame the alcohol for the way you felt, but Regulus Black had proven himself to be more magnetic than any boy you’d ever met so there was no use excusing it. So, despite the fact it was wrong, you didn’t move when he started to lean closer.

“I’m glad to hear that,” he said, his voice quieter than before.

“I’m sure you are,” you replied. He was close, his lips only inches away from yours.

“Why’s that?” He asked.

His eyes were so beautiful, you could barely focus on the words that came out of his mouth. “Because you...”

Your eyes fluttered shut and you felt his soft lips brush against yours. He was so gentle; you could barely even feel him. And after only a few seconds he pulled back. Your eyes remained closed.

“Because I’m...?”

“Reg, don’t make me ask you.”

“Oh, but I want to hear it so bad.”

“Just shut up and kiss me already.”

He didn’t hesitate to fulfill your request and soon enough he was kissing you with an intensity you weren’t sure you ever felt before. One of his hands fell to your waist, his fingers quickly untucking your shirt from your skirt. You let your fingers run through his curls as you’d imagined doing so many times over the previous days.

When he pushed you back and urged you to lie down, you did it. When he pushed your knees apart and slid between your legs you didn’t protest. It was terrible, you were cheating on your boyfriend with his little brother. But at that moment no thoughts could even register in your head. All you could think about was how good Regulus’s body felt against yours and how good he was at kissing.

Perhaps things moved faster than they should’ve. Perhaps they should’ve never moved in that direction to begin with. Either way, within only a few minutes both of your robes were discarded and one of Regulus’s hands was between your thighs. His lips remained on yours as he toyed with you, his soft kiss engulfed each of your moans. You traced your fingertips up and down his back, your hand under his shirt. He was soft but rough, he was perfect.

“I want you,” he suddenly whispered against your lips.

Your eyes opened, he pulled back a bit, and your eyes met his. He didn’t stop his fingers; you could barely think of what to say. “I want you too Reg.”

“Right now?” He asked.

“Right now,” you assured him breathlessly.

You watched him fumble with his belt for a few seconds before he distracted you with another kiss. He was intoxicating, to say the least. Every one of your senses was flooded with Regulus Black. The scent of his cologne, the feeling of his hands under your skirt, the taste of the firewhiskey he’d previously drank, the sound of his shallow breath, the brief glimpses you stole of his pretty face, it was almost too much for you to handle.

Once his belt was finally undone you felt him shift and you knew what was to come. You didn’t think of stopping him for a second. Instead, you threaded your fingers back in his black curls and held him tighter. He pushed your panties to the side and without warning began to slowly push his cock inside you.

You bit down on his lip, your back arched off the floor, and your thighs squeezed around him. He didn’t stutter with his movements and began to thrust in and out at a pace that made your head spin and your insides warm.

After a few minutes, he began to trail his mouth down your neck, the sensation making it impossible for you to stay quiet. You gripped one of his biceps with your hand and your eyes squeezed shut as he fucked you. He was careful despite the heat of the moment, however. You were silently grateful. No marks would be left on your skin.

“Reg,” you moaned. “Fuck Reg.”

He staggered for a moment. “Are you okay?” The vibration of his voice on your skin made you almost moan again.

“Yes, yes. Please don’t stop,” you whimpered.

It would be impossible for you to know exactly how long it went on. But by the time it was over, you felt no effects from the alcohol you’d drank before. You came hard, arguably harder than you’d ever come in your life. Regulus did something to you that you couldn’t understand. So, when he asked if it was ok for him to finish inside you said yes.

The two of you laid next to each other in the aftermath, a few inches between your bodies. Sweat covered the inside of your shirt, and another substance leaked between your thighs. You only stared at the ceiling and the stars above as you steadied your breathing.

“I won’t tell,” Regulus said after some time.

“Thank you,” you replied quietly. You were still in a daze; your mind couldn’t process what had just occurred. You sat up, your back was already starting to ache. “I should go.”

From the corner of your eye, you saw Regulus sit up too. “Yeah, you should.”

You slid your robe over your arms and straightened out your tie and shirt. Before you stood, you made sure to grab the bottle of firewhiskey and conceal it under your clothes. You looked down at Regulus briefly, he was already looking at you. It made your face heat up.

You gave him a weak smile. “I’ll um... I’ll see you tomorrow then. Goodnight.”

“Goodnight.”

You escaped before anything else could be said and raced down to your dorm.

The whole night you tossed and turned in bed, your head full of thoughts that would not let you sleep. You cheated on Sirius. With his brother. It was almost unimaginable. You’d never thought of cheating before, it never crossed your mind. But there you were a cheater.

You just hoped Sirius wouldn’t ask where you were on April 29th.

Because he really wouldn’t want to know.

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ripdragonbeans · 8 months ago

Text

Through The Worst // modern!Aemond x Reader

Summary: You're reminded just how much Aemond loves you.

TRIGGER WARNING!!! Self injury, in depth description of panic attack, talk of physically abusive family

CW: p in v, unprotected sex, creampie, oral f and m receiving

The starry sky has always been your companion, through the good and the bad. You take a deep breath and smile. You think of all the good in your life, your boyfriend, Aemond. Aemond, the light in your life.

Like him, your family wasn't the most stable place in your life. Fights between your parents were frequent and you had to protect your sister from more than one attempt of violence against her. When it came to you, though? You would gladly endure the pain if it meant your sister was safe.

When your mother left you and your sister with your father it was terrible. If he was angry you and your sister would find another place to spend the night. If you two were caught off guard, you did all you could to prepare yourself for a terrible night. Sometimes it was keeping food away from you, sometimes it was a beating. But it was never too much, or somewhere that could be seen by anyone else. All the hits were strategic, easily being covered by a regular t-shirt.

While your body almost never scarred, as bruises were the only injuries that would mark your skin, scars remained nonetheless. Unfortunately, those were your own doing.

It was never intentional, you would tell yourself. And it was true. Some people would see them and automatically assume that you wanted to die but that wasn't the case. If anything you just wanted to feel something.

Growing up in that household on top of not being at the best school was not a good combination. Classmates were cruel to you, whether you knew it or not. With such a kind heart you gave everyone the benefit of the doubt. Even the guys who dated you as a joke or who just wanted to add you to their body count.

Once you were old enough to get out of the house, you did. You tried to bring your sister with you but she refused. She believed that if she stayed with your father she could help him. You tried everything to convince her not to stay but she wouldn't budge. So you left home without her.

You felt someone lay down next to you in the grass. Immediately you could tell it was Aemond. You gave the sky a small smile before turning over to face him.

“Couldn't sleep?” You asked him.

He shrugged. “I was restless. I know you can't sleep sometimes so I figured I'd check in on you. You weren't in your room so I came out here.”

If you were anywhere else you'd be sharing the same bed but since you were spending the summer with Aemond’s siblings you had your own room. While his mother wasn't around you knew it would be a bit much if she heard her son was sharing a bed with someone, even with them being in college, even with his own girlfriend. So, you stayed in a room, not too far away from Aemond's, but still too far in your own opinion.

You cupped his face with your hand and ran your thumb across his cheek. “You know, I miss you at night sometimes. Even if we've spent the whole day together.”

“I miss you too, my love.” He placed his hand on top of your and kissed your palm.

You closed your eyes, content with his presence. For a while you two just lay there in the grass underneath the night sky until Aemond got up and pulled you up.

“I think it's time for bed. We can sleep in my room tonight,” he whispered.

“Oh, getting rebellious, are we?” You joked.

“No, I just want you to fall asleep in my arms tonight. Is that okay?”

“Of course it's okay.”

A gentle kiss graced the top of your head as the two of you went in for the rest of the night.

That night you slept peacefully wrapped up in Aemond’s arms. When you fell asleep he was there. When you woke up he was there. His soft snoring brought a sweet smile to your face as you brushed his hair back with your hand. His hair was also so neat, you felt somewhat blessed to see it unkept and so…comfortable.

When you saw his eyelids begin to flutter open you peppered his face with kisses.

“Good morning, my love,” you whispered in his ear.

He chuckled. “Don't do that or we may not get out of bed.”

“Do what?” You asked innocently.

He gave you a knowing look. “You know what your whispers do to me.”

“Well maybe I want that, I'm just trying to get you ready.”

“Congratulations, it worked.”

Aemond captured you in a passionate kiss. His hands ran up your body to capture your tits over your shirt. It was a flimsy shirt, but it was still too much. Aemond circled your breasts with his hands, getting closer and closer to your nippes. You whined against him and arched your back to get closer. He took advantage of that and snuck his tongue in your mouth. The feel of him adding more and more. Your hands went to his hair and you pulled him even closer.

Aemond smiled at your eagerness and gave in, running each thumb over a pebbled nub. He had been teasing you so much you felt yourself clench at his touch.

After torturing you like this a few more times, each one causing louder and louder whines, he finally relented and pulled the shirt over your head. Free from the barrier, Aemond dipped his head down to take a bud in his mouth.

“Fuck, Aemond,” you whispered.

You reached down and felt him hard under his briefs. You palmed him as he lifted his hips to meet your hand. He was just as needy as you.

As he switched from one nipple to the other you tugged down his briefs just enough to free him. Hard and red at the tip, you got excited just looking at it.

Aemond released you with a pop before pulling you into another kiss. He was about to slip off your panties when you stopped him.

“I want to taste you first,” you told him.

You skipped his briefs off all while keeping eye contact. His eye never left yours. They widened as you dipped your head down to lick the head. Just that small touch had him buck into you. You gave his head another tiny lick and he groaned.

“Take my cock, my girl. I want to see your face stuffed.”

You gave him a sly smile before taking as much of him as possible all at once. You've done this enough times to be used to the stretch. Of course, you still need to warm up before taking *all* of him.

His precum was salty on your tongue and you loved it. You swirled your tongue over his head while bobbing your own head up and down. Raising your eyes, you could see Aemond gripped the sheets and tried to keep everything in.

You hummed, causing vibrations to go through him as he flung his head back in ecstacy.

“If you don't stop I'm -”

The words spurred you on. Hallowing your cheeks and bobbing faster, you wanted him to spill himself inside you. You wanted to taste him, all of him.

“Fuck!” He spilled into your mouth and you swallowed each drop. You let him go with a pop and crawled over to him.

Aemond brought his hand to your face and wiped away a dribble of his cum that was left on your lip.

“My turn,” he said before flipping the two of you over.

You landed on your back, sprawled over the bed. Aemond gave you a mischievous grin before settling himself between your legs. He hooked an arm over each thigh to keep you from moving away.

“I don't think that's necessary -” you began to say. “Fuck!”

His head was fully between your thighs and he was languidly lapping at your folds. He was slow and deliberate with each flick of his tongue and it drove you mad. He moved his focus to your clit and sucked on it, making you whimper. You pushed your hips up to meet him in a desperate attempt for more. You could feel Aemond smile against you as he sped up his flicks and licks. You were nearing your peak, you could feel yourself tightening but he wasn't going to let you off that easily. He pushed two fingers in, making you groan in surprise and pleasure. He pumped you with his fingers hard and he felt so damn good. Curling his fingers, he found your sweet spot.

“Aemond - Aemond, please, I'm gonna -”

“It's okay, baby. Let go. I want you to soak my hand.”

At his words the building pressure crescendoed into its peak. Blinding white pleasure was all you could see. Pleasure was all you could feel. Aemond didn't stop, he fucked you with his fingers all the way through your orgasm. He didn't stop until your body had stopped shaking. Gently pulling his finger out, he placed a soft kiss on your forehead.

“I can't wait to fuck you,” he whispered.

“Then why are you waiting?” You taunted.

Aemond growled then quickly flipped you over on your stomach.

“You want to be fucked? I'll fuck you.”

He teased you, playing with your entrance with the tip of his cock. You whimpered and tried to press back into him.

“So desperate for my cock. Don't worry, you'll get what you want.”

You could hear his smile but you didn't care. He was so close and you needed him inside you. In a quick motion, Aemond sheathed himself inside you. That glorious stretch shot through your body. As many times as he's fucked you, you know you'll never get completely used to the size of him and you welcome it gladly.

Relentlessly he pounded into you, each thrust hitting that perfect spot. You loved it when he fucked you like this. It felt so perfect.

His hands gripped your hips to move you in time with him. There would be bruises from how tight he was holding you but it was something you loved.

Soon, a hand was brought around to play with your clit. You writhed against him but it was no use. You orgasm was building and building and the extra stimulation only made it rush to the surface even more.

Aemond pulled you up so you back was flat against his chest.

“Does this feel good, my love? My cock slamming into your pussy?”

“Yes, yes - fuck!”

“I need you to come for me. Can you do that?”

You mumbled out an answer.

“Aw, my baby has gone dumb,” he teased. “Let go. Come for me.”

He brought his other hand up to a breast and pinched a nipple. With a scream and the arch of you back you came undone on his cock. Aemond fucked you through it, chasing his own peak. Soon, he emptied himself inside you and the two of you collapsed on the bed.

You heard a soft laugh.

“I will never get used to that,” he whispered.

“Neither will I.”

He pressed a kiss to the back of your head before pulling himself out. You complained at the emptiness but he was quick to placate you with a warm towel to clean up.

Once the two of you were clean, Aemond gathered you into his arms and held you close.

“I love you, all of you.”

Those were the last words you heard before falling back asleep.

Screaming. All you could hear was screaming. It wasn't anyone around you; it was yourself. You hated this. You absolutely despise yourself when it happens. No control. None.

And you couldn't get it back.

It was nothing, it should've been nothing.

When you woke up you knew something was wrong. Your nightmare shook you and soon you were snowballing into a panic. A panic you couldn't stop.

When you saw that Aemond wasn't asleep next to you, you freaked out at the absence of him. Thoughts poured in from everywhere, being about everything. Maybe you were just a joke to him, just like how all the others used you. Maybe your father showed up to take you back.

You shut your eyes and pulled your knees to your chest. Rocking yourself back and forth, you tried to calm down, but to no avail.

“Aemond,” you whispered, “please come back. Please, please.”

Slowly, you began to dig your fingernails into the sides of your knees. You could feel the indents that were forming and almost wished to break skin and draw blood. Drawing blood was the only way you could feel something. Only then was the pain enough to even feel a hint of something.

You took your nails and drew them back and forth. Soon, you created a groove in your skin. You moved faster. You were desperate. You needed to feel something now or you were going to scream. While you continued to scratch you absentmindedly began to hit the back of your head on the headboard.

Two things now.

You could almost feel two things.

Looking down at your leg you saw that you broke skin. You couldn't help but smile at your achievement, sick as it was, horrible as it was; but you didn't care.

Feel. All you need it to feel.

Your snowballing thoughts soon turned into memories.

A group of girls laughing at you in the hallway.

Your first boyfriend telling you it was all a joke.

Finding another boyfriend making out with someone else.

The first time you slept with someone, thinking they cared but later laughed in your face when you asked what happens next.

Your father getting more and more aggressive as he steps closer to you.

The fear in your sister’s eyes as you take the blame.

Your father’s fist flying into your gut.

Your sister. Choosing your father over you.

It was too much. Your fingernails and the headboard were not enough for you to feel. You needed something more. You hated yourself for thinking this way but it was the only comfort you had then and the comfort you go to now.

Aemond still wasn't back. You tried to hold on for him. You knew he was coming back even if your jumbled mind told you otherwise.

“I'm so sorry,” you whispered as tears fell.

There was nothing you could do to make yourself stop. Instead, you got up, wrapped a blanket around yourself, and began looking for something, anything, that was a little sharp.

Keys. Aemond’s keys. Your eyes widened when you found them and you were quick to grab them off the dresser. Taking them in your hand, you began to scratch yourself back and forth. You were beginning to feel more and it was ecstasy. Tears tumbled down your cheeks as you let out a dry laugh. You were so focused on what you were finally feeling that you didn't hear the door open. Or hear him come behind you.

Aemond placed his hand on top of yours to stop the scratching.

“Take a breath, love.”

You stopped scratching but you were now shaking. You could barely get the words out. “Too much, Aemond. I'm so sorry.”

“There's nothing to be sorry for.”

He opened your hand and got you to drop the keys into his own. You stood there, frozen, as he put it away. He came up to you and put your hands in his.

“What happened?” He was concerned and his head was racing but his face remained soft.

“I…I don't know. I woke up, you weren't here, and I just started spiraling.”

“You had a panic attack because I wasn't next to you when you woke up?”

“No! It's not your fault!” Tears began to well up once again. “It's my head, it's my father, it's all those people in my life. They haunt me, Aemond. I've tried to erase them but whenever I get a little scared it all hits me again.”

You began to pull away from him and he let you, giving you the space to think and breathe. You bring yourself back to the bed and curl up.

“I love you, Aemond. I do. And I'm so, so sorry I'm like this. I hate it. I hate my head. I hate my father. I hate my ex’s. Hell, even to an extent I hate my sister for choosing our father over me. Everything hurts me and I hate it!”

Silence.

“Please say something,” you whisper.

Aemond sat himself down on the bed. ��May I hold your hand?”

You nod and let him take your hand in his.

“No one's ever going to hurt you again. I promise you that on everything I believe in.” He brought your knuckles up to his lips and gently kissed them. “As long as I'm with you, I swear.”

You closed your eyes and finally took a deep breath. “It's so much and I wish it wasn't. I've been working so hard it all crashed.”

“And that's okay, love. No matter what, I will be next to you.”

You pushed yourself closer to Aemond, seeking his warmth. Once you were close enough, he wrapped you in his arms and kissed the top of your head.

“We'll stay in here all day if you want. Just us,” he offered.

“Just us,” you echoed. As blissful as that thought was, you shook it off. “No, we should go out. I think I need to go somewhere else.”

“The park then? Or we can watch a movie?”

You cocked your head in thought. “Let's go for a walk, Aemond. I need to see the world again.”

“My love, I'll give you the world if you ask.” He tilted your head up and pressed a soft kiss to your lips. While there was no heat, there was still passion.

Passion, and the promise of undying protection and love.

#fics by bean #aemond targaryen #aemond one eye #aemond fanfiction #aemond targaryen x reader #hotd modern au #hotd #modern!aemond #modern!aemond x reader

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unknownperson246 · 4 months ago

Note

Hello^^ could I request a 80s slash x reader fic?

It’s 1986, the night was still young and everyone was having good time at one of Motley Crue’s coolest parties yet. Slash sitting on the sofa in the living room while people roamed and danced onto each other. When the reader who was trying to be a groupie for the first time tries to shoot her shot with slash?

With smut and a bit of fluff also?

Thank youu^^

Hiii sorry its a bit late but here it is

First Time

Words: 886

Warnings: *smut* *fluff* *mentions of alcohol* *cussing* *first time* *blood* *slight praise kink* *unprotected p in v* *inexperienced groupie*

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It is the year 1986 and Slash was invited to one of Motley Crue's parties. The party was at Vince Neil’s house. You were around 20 years old. It was the best one this year and every rockstar was coming. It was your first time being a groupie because you just started and you were hanging out with other groupies until Slash caught your eye. He was lying on the couch with his hat and sunglasses he had a lot of curly hair you have never seen him ever. He was in the living room while a lot of people were dancing and making out all over the place. People were even dancing with each other and drinking their beers having a good time. A groupie saw you staring at Slash with starry eyes. She walks past you and you stop her. “Hey, who is that?” You ask her.

“You seriously don't know?” She looks at you in shock.

“No that's why im asking. It's my first time being a groupie” You say to a fellow groupie.

“That’s Slash from the band Guns n Roses. They're very popular.” The groupie tells you.

“Well, he is pipping hot” You smirk as you tell the groupie.

“Yeah, he is very popular with the groupies so be careful they come to him like a school of birds. They will eat you alive so you better be careful. Also, get to him before any of the other girls get to him.” The groupie warns you so you don't get physically attacked by some dick-hungry chicks.

You muster up some courage and push the other groupies out of the way so you can talk to Slash. You were trying to shoot your shot with him.

“Hi. I’m Y/N” You say confidently as you stand in front of him with just your bra and panties.

“Hi Y/N You are one sexy woman. Sit here.” He says as he points to his lap.

He takes his sunglasses off and he rarely does that. The other women were watching in jealousy as he called you sexy and how he was looking at you when he took his sunglasses off. The other women were shocked that he chose a newby. His hands grab your hips and he does not let go of them. His fingers dig into your hips softly.

“Im a virgin” You whisper in his ear.

“Well, this should be fun then” Slash purrs in your ear.

“You're going to let a rockstar take it?” Slash asks you.

“Yeah, and I want it to be you.” You whisper to Slash.

Slash was trying not to be judgmental towards you. He takes you to Vince’s master bedroom. He asks Vince if he is okay with fucking chicks in there first. Vince is okay with it. “Do you know how to do it?” Slash asks you gently.

“I mean yes but it's my first time,” You tell Slash in the bedroom.

“It might hurt at first and it will bleed but if you want me to stop I will,” Slash tells you.

Slash gets up on you and slowly removes your underwear. He prepares his cock for you and he slides it in you nice and easy.

“Does it hurt?” Slash asks you if you're okay.

“No it just feels weird,” you tell Slash.

Slash picks up the pace and starts to go quicker but he is very gentle with you knowing that it’s sensitive because it’s your first time

Slash keeps grunting as he slides in and out of you. He notices the blood.

“Should I stop?” Slash asks you.

“No keep going” you let out a moan.

You make small noises and you softly whimper as you feel yourself coming close to your orgasm.

“How does it feel?” Slash asks you.

“It feels good” you Moan as your nails touch Slash’s back.

“I feel like I have to pee,” you shriek.

“That’s a good thing it means you're about to orgasm,” Slash explained.

You were happy that you were about to come on Slash’s thick cock. Your legs start to shake and your head goes back.

“Is it supposed to feel this good?” you moan as his hips grind your hips.

“Yeah,” Slash says breathlessly.

“You’re such a good girl.” Slash moans as his hands go through your hair.

You feel your hole clenching Slash’s cock. Your sight is blurry and you come over Slash’s cock. Slash keeps going. His legs start to shake and his head goes back. He groans and you feel a liquid shoot inside of you. Slash pulls out of you and lays down next to you on Vince’s bed.

“Is it supposed to come out? I don’t want to get pregnant” you ask Slash.

“Fuck are you on birth control?” Slash asks panicked

“Yeah, I’m just playing with you” you chuckle.

You feel something run down your legs and you thought it was your period but remember it was blood from how you did it with Slash.

“Slash, I'm still bleeding.” You look down at your legs.

“Do you use pads or tampons?” Slash asks you.

“Tampons,” you tell Slash.

After about 2 minutes Slash comes back with a tampon and you put it in. You both go out of the room and go back to partying.

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daydreams-after-dark · 5 months ago

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What's your fanfic fantasy? part 10

Chapter Contents.

Part 1 // Part 2 // Part 3 // Part 4 // Part 5 // Part 6 // Part 7 // Part 8 // Part 9 // Part 10 // Part 11 // Part 12 // Part 13 // Part 14 //

Premise: fem reader + Chan + Jisung 18+ fanfic. This is an AU story about Chan bringing your fantasies to life... but what happens when boyfriends Chan and Han fall in love with you?

Chapter Summary: You are finally alone with Chan.

a/n: the moment has finally arrived where reader and Chan finally get to get it on. It's a short chapter, but the next chapter will also be reader and Chan.

Warnings: unprotected p in v, coming inside, I don't want to give everything away but it's really sweet.

Y/n pov.

You’re still pinching yourself as you approach Chan’s room. You have never felt this nervous in all your life. More nervous than any of the encounters so far here in the holiday house. You wince slightly as your underwear rubs against your swollen labia. You’re feeling a little sore from earlier with Binnie, and you resign yourself to the fact you’re probably not going to be able to walk for a week after all the sex you’ve have had. But you’re about to be alone with Chan, in a bedroom, your feelings as clear as a starry night. You’re not going to let a sore vagina interfere with your first time with him. Even the thought of what is about to happen makes you ache with need.

You reach the door and exhale loudly, then take one more deep, grounding breath as you knock on the door. You have a sudden urge to run back to Jisung and drag him here with you to help ease the nerves. You’re at least somewhat used to having him around when you’re with Chan.

The door cracks open and there he is. Chan, in nothing but a pair of pale blue sweatpants. He looks freshly washed too, and smells like soap. He opens the door, leaning on it with an outstretched arm as he makes space for you to enter. His sculpted torso emitting a sense of dominance that makes your skin burn and your mouth feel dry.

You nervously glance up to his face to meet his stern expression. You can’t breathe. You can’t move, but somehow your legs take you over the threshold into the bedroom. It smells like Chan and Jisung, mingled in the most beautiful way. It both calms you and frightens you in equal measure.

You barely make it into the room before Chan closes the door and slowly pushes you against the timber. His hand grips your neck holding you in place, and his eyes bore into you. You can’t tell what he’s thinking. Is he angry? Of course he’s angry. Look what you’ve done to him, sleeping with other men in front of him. You close your eyes painfully.

“Look at me.” He growls, squeezing your neck. You open your eyes but you don’t meet his gaze. You can’t. Chan takes a step closer, his body pressing against you, his hardening length prodding your stomach, his breath hot on your face. “Look at me.” He whispers.

You finally look up and nervously meet his stare. His expression softens and his hand moves from your neck to hold your jaw, running the pad of his thumb along your lower lip. You’re trembling like a leaf as he runs his gaze over your lips, his mouth slightly parted.

“I can’t believe you’re finally here.” His voice is breathy. You swallow hard. He’s so close that you could melt into him, but you’re frozen to the spot. You stand there for what feels like an eternity. Silently. The air is stifling.

“I don’t know how I want to do this.” He chuckles with a half smile.

“What do you mean?” Your voice cracks.

He smiles again, this time warmly. “I don’t know if I want to take you slowly and carefully,” his lips brush against your cheek, and you slowly close your eyes at the brief contact. Your legs turn to jelly and you ache in your chest as well as your core, and you’re so wet too. You need Chan so fucking much it hurts.

“Or,” his gaze follows his hand as it drifts down to your waist and taking hold of the hem of your shirt. He bites his luscious, juicy lips as he slowly lifts your top off over your head, letting it drop to the floor, and he sighs when he sees your breasts.

“Or?” You choke, urging him on.

“Or… if I should fuck you hard.” He looks back up at you. “I know you like it rough, hmm.” His hands explore your body freely for the very first time.

“You don’t know how much I’ve wanted to touch you.” He sighs, his hand cupping your breast and rubbing his thumb over your nipple.

“Chan,” you choke “that night with Minho…when I was laying on you… all I wanted was for you to touch me like this… like you’re doing now.”

He leans in to your ear “You don’t know hard it was not to touch you more than I did.” He pulls back “It was driving me fucking crazy.” He admitted.

You tentatively place your hands on Chan’s chest. “Chan,” You whisper “You can do anything you want to me.” you say. “But could you please hurry the fuck up because I am so nervous right now that I can hardly breathe.”

Chan laughs under his breath before turning serious. “Okay.” He nods, exhaling, preparing himself, or trying to find the courage to make a move.

You slide your hands up from his chest to wrap them around his neck, encouraging him to lean in towards your lips. His lips ghost against yours for a moment and electricity surges through your body. And then it’s happening. Chan presses his mouth against yours, taking you in a soft tender kiss, before pulling away momentarily.

Gentle kissing mustn’t be enough for him and he is back on you with a rough, urgent, searing hot kiss. A kiss that sets you on fire and melts away the nerves and anxiety. You're pushed harder against the door as his kisses become messy. His tongue finds yours making you moan into his mouth, and his hands slide down to cup your ass, squeezing the cheeks. He growls as his fingers dig into the flesh. “So fucking perfect.”

You pull away panting, trying to catch your breath. “Chan,” he kisses you again. “Mmm, Chan…please.” you manage.

“Yes baby?” he peppers kisses on your cheek, making his way to your neck.

“I need… I can’t wait any longer.” you whimper.

Chan lifts you up and you wrap your legs around his waist as he takes you to the bed, setting you down on the edge of the mattress. He slides to his knees as you lean back on your elbows, and you feel your body shaking in anticipation of what is to come.

“Open your legs up for me.” He bites his lip as he pushes your knees wide. “Fuck.” He breaths when his eyes drop to your lace covered core.

“I need to take these off you.” You lick your lips seductively and he slides your underwear down your legs and tosses them over his shoulder. You can’t help but laugh at how dramatic he is. He pushes your knees wide again and his eyes land on your naked pussy, making you blush deep red and your nerves come to the forefront once more.

Chan has seen you naked already, but having him deliberately looking at your most intimate parts sends shock waves through you.

“You’re so fucking perfect, Babygirl.” he declares again. “You don’t know how long I’ve wanted to taste you either.” His hands massage the insides of your thighs as he eats you out with his eyes. His mouth hangs loose and his tongue slips out the corner, curling slightly. It’s like he’s salivating at the sight. “I can see you’re so wet for me too.” His hand slides up to your center and he rubs a thumb over your lips. “Yep. So wet.”

You shudder. He nestles in closer so he can get a better look at your pussy, using his fingers to explore your folds, spreading them to expose your clitoris and your entrance. You gasp at the sensation of his hands finally touching you in ways you've only ever imagined. You watch him as he bites his lip and growls with approval as he runs a finger up from your vagina to your clit.

“So this is what everyone has been fucking, huh?” he remarks as he slides two fingers straight into you. You cry out at the sudden and aggressive intrusion, then melt around him relishing having Chan’s fingers inside your body.

“You’re pussy’s so tight. I’m not sure how you’re going to take me.” He withdraws his fingers only to come back with three. “Yep, really fucking tight. It’s going to be a stretch for you.” He lifts an eyebrow and glances up at you. “But I know you’ll be a good girl when I make you take every inch of me. You are good girl, right?” He looks at you questioningly.

You nod and throw your head back, moaning from just his words. You're startled when you feel Chan’s mouth on your clit, latching on with his warm, wet mouth. His fingers dig into your g spot, overwhelming you with pleasure.

“You taste so fucking good. I’ve only had a second hand taste before, and I’ve been feral for it ever since.”

“Channie… please… I don’t want my first time coming with you to be like this…” you pant.

“No? How do you wanna come, I’ll give you anything you want, yeah?”

“I want to come on your cock.” you declare, desperately.

Chan removes his fingers from your pussy, and reaches up towards you. “I need you to know how good you taste first.”

You sit up taking his hand in yours, guiding his fingers to your mouth. You close your eyes as you suck the fingers that were inside of you, knowing that it is driving Chan crazy.

“Up on the bed.” He orders, and you hurry yourself to lay up near the headboard. You can smell Jisung on the pillow. Strawberries. The scent calms you, but also excites you for what is to come when you can all be together.

Chan wastes no time shedding his sweatpants and climbing onto the bed on top of you, and you explore his toned body with your hands. You notice his muscles are tense and strained. “Are you okay, Chan?” You whisper, stroking his back.

“Just imagining what it’s gonna feel like.” His voice is strained too, not just his muscles. You trace his abdominals, running your fingertips down his torso and carefully wrap your fingers around his cock. You didn't really had the chance to explore it with your hand before, even though you've seen it several times in the last few days, and had it rough in your mouth. He is thick, as well as long, and you wonder how Jisung manages to take him in his mouth, or his ass, so effortlessly.

“That’s it, y/n, your hand feels so good working my cock like that.” He grits his teeth and sets his sights on your breasts. Hungrily, he latches onto a nipple, swirling his tongue around, and nipping it slightly. His other hand is busy caressing the other. You arch up into Chan hoping he’ll become more urgent with his ministrations.

You are more than ready for him now. You need him. You can’t hold out any longer. You release your hand from his cock and hold onto his shoulders. “Please Channie… I’m ready.”

“Yeah?” he kisses your neck, then your cheek and then dives onto your mouth again, before pulling away.

“Yeah… so bad…please hurry.” You whine. You sound so pathetic and needy, but you don’t care.

All you can think about is Chan inside of you, filling you, stretching you, fucking you.

“Okay, gorgeous…” Chan leans back onto his knees “I’m gonna need you to spread wide open again for me… that’s it... Show me that pussy again. Yes… like that.” He approves as he bends your knees up towards your chest at the same time as pushing them as wide as he can.

“God… so ready… so swollen too…” he looks up at you concerned.

“What? What is it?” You ask worried.

“Binnie, he didn’t hurt you did he?” Chan looked expectantly at you. “Because… I can go slow.”

You throw your head back onto the pillow, feeling a mix of frustration and admiration for the man in front of you. “Channie,” you wail. “I just need you…. I don’t care how…” You meet his eyes. “I just need you. Right. Now.” you beg.

With your legs pinned up around your underarms, Chan leans over to kiss you once again, slow and tentatively. As your melt into each other, your arms are back around his neck, and you feel him finally at your entrance.

“You really ready, cos I’m not stopping now?” He whispers low.

“I’m ready.” you respond in agony.

Both of you are visibly shaking with anticipation and need as the head of his cock squeezes inside of you. You suck in a breath just as Chan let’s out a sigh. You weren't expecting the stretch. He wasn’t expecting the tightness. “I know your soaking wet, but fuck you’re tight.”

“Feels good…” you murmur.

“Look at me, Babygirl.”You lock eyes on him. He takes a deep breath and then sinks himself into you, inch by inch, until he bottoms out. Your walls slowly stretch around him, accepting him, welcoming him, although there is a lot of resistance there too.

“Fuck!” he shudders whilst you start panting short, shallow breaths. You both take a moment to adjust, your shock turning into stupid giggles.

“Oh my god,” You breath “I can’t believe I have you inside of me right now.”

“Y/n… Oh fuck… you feel so… so perfect.” He squeezes his eyes shut trying to compose himself. He hadn’t even started moving yet.

You hold each other close as he begins to withdraw his cock. You can’t help but look down in awe as you see the length of his cock appear, glistening with your juices, only to disappear back inside of you. Chan does this a few more times, each thrust gliding easier than the last. It doesn’t take long until he has built up a rhythm that’s forceful and consistent.

“You’re taking me so well… squeezing me… sucking me back in.” He grunts. “Was your cunt this hungry for everyone else’s cocks? Hmm?”’

His crude words sound so sexy, making you mewl underneath him. “Tsk. Tsk. Such a greedy little pussy you have… happy for anyone to fill it up. Happy to come on anyone’s cock, yeah?”

Your eyes widened, and Chan smirks. “That’s right, love. I haven’t forgotten about your punishment you know.” He thrusts become brutal, his hips slapping against you, causing you to slide up the mattress. “After this the only cocks you’ll crave is mine and Jisung’s. I promise you’ll never need, you’ll never want, anyone else’s cocks but ours.”’

“I love you Chan.” You cry. It slips out of your mouth. “I fucking love you so much.”

You wrap your legs around his waist, bringing him close to kiss him. He props himself up on an elbow and cups your face with his other hand, stilling for a moment. “Y/n, I love you too.” He says seriously, happiness radiating from his eyes.

Your heart bursts, and a warmth wash over you. He begins to move again. The pressure inside you builds rapidly as Chan’s cock starts to pound against your cervix, your walls squeezing him tighter.

“You’re close, baby, I can feel it.” He slides a hand down between you to stimulate your clit.

“Come for me, y/n. I want to see you come for me this time.”

And you do. You feel like you've been shattered into a billion pieces, as your walls pulse around Chan for what feels like an eternity. You hold your breath as you feel the exquisite release, gripping his shoulders hard until your knuckles turn white. As your orgasm wanes, your walls relax until they are gently fluttering around Chan’s cock.

He grins, picking up the pace again, chasing his own climax now. His moans ranging from breathy gasps to deep long grunts, until eventually his hips stutter and finally he owns you, claims you, as he paints your insides.

Chan takes a moment to catch his breath and you wipe the perspiration from his brow. “Sungie’s right.” He leans in resting his forehead on yours. “You feel so beautiful when you come.”

After a few long moments, Chan pulls himself from you and collapses beside you on the bed.

You're so overwhelmed with what’s just happened that you start to sob, unable to stop the tears.

“y/n?” Chan is at your side wrapping an arm around you. “Did I hurt you?” he holds you close.

“Chan,” you sob “that felt so perfect. You felt so… it was…” the tears pour down your face. But then you start to laugh. “I can’t wait to do it again.” you declare laughing and crying all at once. Chan strokes your arm and then wipes your tears away the best he can. “There’s so much still to do… to try… with Jisung too, yeah?”

“Mmm hmm.” you nod in agreement.

“Come on, let’s run a bath. Let me wash you. Would you like that?”

@rylea08 @channieandhisgoonsquad @noellllslut @itsseohannbin @weareapackofstrays @3rachasdomesticbanana @palindrome969 @xxkissesforchanniexx @chuuchuu1224 @fun-fanfics @wolfennracha @rhonnie23 @jisunglyricist @strayywayy @rixenluv @piscesrising01 @lunearta @shltsnglggles @lilbabiebunni @jiminssluttyminx @armystay89 @krayzieestay @stellasays45 @hxnnielk @yaorzu-blog @anjian03 @tsunderelino @igetcarriedawaywithyou @mylittleponeypinkrosieposie @privhace @kyunchoni @writhingwrecked @kisses-too-the-moon @justforreaders @melochacco @scenuniverse @oddracha @meilix @ismokeeweed @leftovercigarettes @galaxycatdrawz

#bang chan smut #bang chan x reader #skz smut #sorshas fic

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kitty-tea · 6 months ago

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The prettiest girl

Link to my masterlist here

Pairing: Cedric Diggory x reader

Word count: 1.3k

Summary: You’re at a Halloween party in the Hufflepuff common room when Cedric asks to dance with you.

A/N: I know it’s not Halloween but for some reason the idea to write this story hit me about a week ago. Also it’s low key inspired from that one scene at the party from season 2 episode 6 of Ghost Whisperer. And I’m still working on my other stories.

You self-consciously tugged your short skirt down your legs and adjusted your stockings as you twirled around in front of the full length mirror. Your angel costume was far sexier than anything you’ve ever worn in your life, so you weren’t used to showing this much skin in front of other people. You considered asking the other girls to check you for their opinions, but considering that you were one who was mostly known for keeping to yourself, you decided not to. Of course you wanted to look your absolute best for the last Halloween party you’d be attending at Hogwarts before you graduated.

You were also nervous. What if other people didn’t like your costume? You weren’t very resourceful, so it wasn’t like you made it yourself from scratch like how other students have done with their costumes. You had planned ahead and had taken a trip to a Muggle costume shop before school started, purchasing a corset, a halo, wings, a skirt, a pair of stockings, and high heels, all white. Since you were a witch, you had the advantage of being able to use magic to make the halo float above your head wherever you went, adding a layer of authenticity to your costume.

By the time you came out of your dorm, the party had already started in the common room. You weren’t the only student that had gone all out, just about everyone else was dressed up, like with every Halloween party you’ve been to, and the common room almost looked completely different than how it looked the rest of the school year. In contrast to the sunny warmth that your house colors provided, tonight it was a reflection of the starry dark skies casted with a chill that reminded you of those horror or mystery novels. Of course your costume stood out because of that. You were like a drop of pure white snow shining through a big shadow of darkness.

You sensed other people’s eyes on you, yet you felt more comforted by convincing yourself that no one else was paying attention to you, just as it always was.

Still keeping your head down, you turned to the punch bowl and poured yourself a drink. Taking small sips, you looked around at all the dancing couples or groups of friends. It’s not that you were jealous, you just couldn’t help wondering what your school days would’ve been like if you were a different type of person, one who was more outgoing and bold. Would you have been sorted into the house you were in now? Probably not, but it didn’t hurt you to wonder about different ways your life could have turned out.

Your ears perked up when you noticed the difference in the change of music. The slow, alluring melody had replaced the loud, wild beats. You saw the center of the room occupied by couples in their embrace, alone in each other’s arms. Seeing as you never had someone to share that moment with, you also wondered what it’d be like to be in someone else’s arms like that. Would you feel as if the world around you didn’t exist? Or would you feel self-conscious and too aware of the imaginary judging?

You took another sip of your punch, wondering if maybe you should have spiked your own drink with vodka.

You turned your back to the party and were about to get another drink when you felt a tap on your shoulder.

You didn’t expect to be face to face with Cedric Diggory, the captain of your house’s Quidditch team who also happened to be the most popular boy in school, at least from what you heard. For some reason he decided to dress up as a vampire. At least that’s what you assumed. Not that you were complaining. You adored reading stories about vampires and other supernatural creatures.

You didn’t know what to say to Cedric, not that you ever do. You remembered how he’d smile and wave at you in the corridors or say hello in between classes. There were also those times where he could have chosen any of the numerous vacant seats to study at in the library, but for some reason he’d always ask if the seat next to yours was taken, and instead of responding to him in words, you’d only manage to shake your head.

And now, here he was, with his hand reaching out towards you, calling your name. “Would you like to dance with me?”

He was smiling confidently, like someone who knew they reached their goal or was about to reach their goal.

You decided you didn’t care about distracting yourself with your drink anymore, so you ditched it for better company.

You took Cedric’s hand and watched as it engulfed yours. You tried not to trip in your heels as he led you to where the other people were dancing.

You didn’t think your heartbeat would ever calm down as he placed his hands on your waist and smiled at you in a way that always made you get butterflies in your stomach. With those same butterflies continuing to flutter, you took a deep breath as you reached your hands up onto his shoulders.

He must have sensed your unsureness, as he was the one to take the lead, guiding you slowly through the music with small steps.

You felt your cheeks burn the deepest shade of red. This was the closest you had ever been to Cedric. You could have sworn his eyes kept going down to your lips as he subtly licked his own bottom lip. You wondered just what he could be thinking.

You hadn’t noticed that the song had ended until you heard his voice. “You’re the prettiest girl here.” He said, as he stroked his thumb across your cheek before tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. You didn’t know a gesture so small could have such a big effect on you, making your heart skip a beat and melt at the same time.

“You’re always the prettiest girl everywhere you are.” He continued. You couldn’t believe he said that about you. You heard other students and even the teachers around the school talk about how amazing Cedric is, and you didn’t think in a million years he’d spare the time in his day to pay attention to you.

“Really? You think I’m pretty?” Those were the most words you’d ever spoken to him in one sentence.

“Yeah, most of the guys think so too. I didn’t think you noticed. Guess I was right.” You felt your cheeks flush as a not so subtle smirk made its way onto Cedric’s face.

You let the conversation die down as the next song came on. You almost gasped as you felt Cedric lightly digging his thumbs into your hips, rubbing them in circles as he pulled you against his chest, right where you could feel and hear his heartbeat against your cheek.

Letting one of his hands go from your hip, he switched to running his fingers through your hair, an action you quickly found to be comforting.

When the song ended, he held you at arm’s length, and you were once again reminded of how small you were compared to him both in physical size and notoriety. Since you couldn’t bring yourself to look him in the eyes, you were at eye-level with chest.

“Can I kiss you?” He asked as he put his fingers under your jaw and lifted your gaze to his eyes, searching for any sign of discomfort. His deep husky voice made your heart melt as well as the unexpected request.

You nodded, and you both leaned into each other. When his lips touched yours, you felt an electrifying sensation spread throughout your entire body.

Even though you weren’t expecting to share a kiss that night with the most popular boy in school, you were very pleased with the outcome.

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canadiannationalfox · 2 months ago

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Murder Drones Fanfic - The Clumsy Little Maid, The Heiress' Hobby, and a Little Gossip

Tessa was reading in the library one stormy morning, she hummed to herself happily as she looked over Van Gogh paintings in a book about the painter's life.

"Ouch!" a little voice called out from somewhere.

The ebony haired girl looked up from her book, scanning the room with her grey eyes to see who was with her.

No one she could see.

Tessa flipped the page of the book to her favourite painting, Starry Night. She marveled at the work in the pages, dreaming about how pretty it would look in real life.

"Oh biscuits!" a sweet little lady's voice echoed from around the corner.

Tessa closed the book and stood up. She walked around the corner and saw a bespectacled worker drone, the hairtie holding the drone's wig back into a low bun had snapped and now the drone was trying to work with her hair hanging to her elbows.

The little drone's wig was stuck in the joints connecting to her shoulders, she worriedly stared at Tessa, flinching slightly.

Tessa knelt down on the floor, getting lower than the drone girl. "Hey there... I remember you. You're V, right?"

V stopped flinching, she looked to the Elliott heiress and nodded shyly.

Tessa pushed V's bangs away from her LED eyes as she soothed, "It looks like you're having a bad hairday." She insisted happily with a smile, "Tell you what, V, we're going to turn this hair don't into a hair do, that is if you trust me," she held out her hand invitingly, her grey eyes twinkling with respect and care.

V accepted the girl's hand, she smiled shyly and said sweetly, "I'm willing to trust you, Miss Tessa."

Tessa got up and lead V back to her room.

V had only been before to Tessa's room to change the linens or to bring up fresh laundry for the girl. She made her way over to the vanity desk against the wall.

The Elliott's daughter pulled a round ottoman-style seat out from below the vanity desk and patted the seat.

The bespectacled drone sat down on the chair comfortably. She glanced back, asking timidly, "D-do I get to pick what it looks like?"

"Of course, V, dear!" Tessa insisted cheerfully before she started looking for the sewing scissors she had stolen from her mother for hairstyling. She opened the drawer full of bows, hairties, and other accessories and started to rummage through the back of the drawer. Tessa's hands grazed over the spot she had put them last. "Crap!" the ebony haired girl whispered to herself, "Mother must have taken them back,"

The worker drone sitting on the lavender ottoman pulled out of her pocket Tessa's ill-gotten sewing scissors. She sheepishly admitted with a smile, "Last time I did the dusting in here, I saw they were a bit dull, so I sharpened them up for you," before she handed the scissors gently to the grey-eyed human girl.

Tessa accepted the scissors graciously with a little, "Thank you, V" before she assessed where the sweet little maid bot's hair was snagged. "Oh dear, that's quite dreadfully high up," the ebony haired girl worriedly noted out-loud before asking, "Longest I could do is a nice bob."

V smoothed her hands over a section of hair that hung down at the right side of her face, asking worriedly, "Do you think I'd still look pretty?" She let go of her hair and rested her hands upon the cupcake-style skirt of her dress

Tessa made eye contact with the pretty silver-eyed drone sitting in front of her in the mirror, lightly pinching the section of hair that V was using to self-soothe, before she explained happily, "Oh definitely, shoulder length is very cute! You might catch the eye of one of the butlers," she let go of the section of hair, looking away bashfully as she twirled at a section of her own ebony hair as she giggled, "Or maybe another maid, if you're into that," as Tessa was thinking of a drone that made her heart all a flutter.

V looked away, her LED display showed blush marks as she sheepishly admitted, "Well... there's this one butler..."

Tessa opened the scissors and placed them angled slightly at the chunk of hair that was stuck in V's shoulder joint. "Oh, well, is he handsome?"

V's tense shoulder relaxed a little, her shyness melted away a bit as she responded cheerfully, "Oh he is! He's so sweet and we love reading together."

"Sounds like a total catch, why haven't you made a move yet darl?" the ebony haired unprofessional-stylist asked, lining up the scissors for the next snip to try to cut the rest free.

V was having fun, she gossiped back, "I don't know, what if I'm not enough woman... er... I guess drone for his liking."

Tessa pocketed her scissors before she lightly squeezed her new maid drone friend's shoulders. "Well then he's a daft dingo and missing out on you would be his loss,"

V giggled at Tessa's advice. She looked in the mirror to her new human friend, trilling happily, watching Tessa bring the scissors back out to continue her work, "Hey, how come you are nice when your folks aren't very kind?" Her auditory sensors were now used to the snipping, actually enjoying the sound as well as the lessening of the weight on her head.

Tessa admitted as she point snipped the tresses at the back of V's wig, letting long chunks of silver hair drop like ribbons, "I mean, why not be nice? And you drones are so nice and sweet and kind and caring," before she scorned sadly while taking a break from her barbering, "Mother and Father and their work friends are mean and vile, and then they have ulterior motives in the times when they are nice."

V felt bad for Tessa and reassured kindly, "I'm glad you're not like that, then, Miss Tessa-I mean.. Tessa"

She apologized softly, "Sorry for my vitriol, I just have more patience with drones, they are much more pleasant friends and clients." Tessa smiled, she brought back out her shears and resumed snipping off more length, enjoying partaking in her hobby but also enjoying the company of another friendly drone. She asked as she gently pulled free the sections of hair that were stuck in V's shoulder joints, "So tell me more about your crush."

"Well, he is one of the only butlers with hair."

Tessa joked playfully with a laugh, "Oh my gosh, you mean N, don't date my robot," but upon seeing some worry start to appear in V's expression she continued, "Or maybe you should, he could use someone else to spend time with besides Cyn and I." She finished cutting V's hair and dusted off the drone's shoulders. Tessa sang in a sweet voice, "There we are! Nice and short, but not too short."

V looked at her new cut and inquired, "Are you able to curl the ends slightly, so it won't get caught again?"

"Oh absolutely! Were you thinking of it flicking outwards like this?" Tessa gently held a section of V's hair, letting the ends of the section flare outwards.

"Inwards would be cuter I think," the bespectacled maid suggested, she crossed her ankles cutely.

Tessa giggled as she got out the stolen curling iron from another drawer in the vanity desk, "Whatever you'd like, either way you're going to look divine, V, dear!"

N approached Tessa's bedroom door, it was almost noon-tea and he was coming to ask her what kind of snack she would want with her strawberry tea. He saw the door was open and stepped in seeing Tessa spraying hairspray onto a drone's lush lovely wig. "Oh! Another client for Salon De Tessa?" N giggled excitedly before seeing the client turn to face him. "Oh my biscuits!" he exclaimed excitedly as the maid caught his gaze.

"Oh, hey N..." V sheepishly giggled as she nervously fidgeted with her apron's lace, "Tessa gave me a new haircut, wh-what do you think?"

N stammered a bit, having trouble finding the words which caused Tessa to giggle at his cuteness. "Wow you're pretty!" he finally managed to blurt out while blushing.

Tessa insisted to V, "See? I told you it was going to suit you nicely."

V hopped off the chair and went to start sweeping up the hair on the floor.

The Elliott heiress knelt down, intentionally getting in the way as she insisted, "You and N go spend time together, I'll clean it up."

V hugged the ebony-haired girl tightly and whispered a 'thank you' to her before she took N's hand and dragged him away.

Tessa giggled happily as she cleaned up the chunks of hair on the floor and put them into a box at the back of her closet with more hair to use for drone wigs. "Better not be wasteful," she giggled to herself, "You never know when a client will come in looking for a new wig or some extensions." Once she was done, she went downstairs to have tea with J and tell her all about how much fun she had getting to play the role of hairdresser again.

The End

#murder drones #murder drones fanfic #serial designation n #serial designation v #tessa james elliot #haircut #makeover #cute #gossiping #I love writing these #murder drones drabble #drabble #fanfic #eNVy murder drones #murder drones nv

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suraemoon · 11 months ago

Text

A Starry Night in 1956

Link to Part 1: A Sunset in 1956

It isn’t necessary to read Part 1 to understand this fic but hey it doesn’t hurt. ^^^

Warnings: p in v smut, virginity loss, oral sex (f receiving), angst, argument, reader has a panic attack in a crowd, descriptions on uncomfy clothes, some objectification of the body?, edging, unfulfilled wishes of finishing inside a woman, teeny bit of masturbation, any more pls let me know

WC: 13k (please bear with me lol about 5k of it is smut)

A/N: The story takes place in Florida in August of 1956. But unlike Elvis’ real life Florida shows during this time, instead of a theatre I’m imagining an amphitheater, park type of venue, like a music festival? if that makes sense. This is my first time writing smut, go easy on me. My inbox is always open for requests if for some reason you trust me with your ideas. Ahhh enjoy.

The starry night’s humid Floridian air was the cozy homestead of not only the expected water vapor but altogether meaningless, patient chatter. The laughs and small talk of people all with a common goal and interest: to see the Elvis Presley perform before them. The Elvis Presley so nationally loved by friends and schoolmates. The Elvis Presley so naturally hated by parents and guardians.

A passionate performance ranted and raved about, a controversial performance complained about and loathed, fit altogether in such a delicious little package for anyone so free in their judgment and beautiful rebellious lovers who have gotten their hands on the wave of Rock n’ Roll. The bow of this gift was a handsome man at its forefront. The poster boy of it all.

You’ve had the privilege of getting to know and love Elvis ever since you were sat at desks right next to each in elementary, in the days when the world was blissfully unaware that the foreman of a cultural movement was in school learning times tables. Seats that would eventually get moved due to disruptive chatter and giggles from the two of you, but the bond built that day could never let up or separate. Now you get to share the gift that is your best friend with the world, for better and for worse.

The year is 1956. Elvis and his band are touring and performing for adoring audiences all around the country and of course he had to take you, his “bestest girl”, with him to every single stop on the road.

You remember the now-fond, then-scary day when in the comfort of your childhood bedroom of your baby blue family home in Memphis that Elvis first proposed the idea that you come with him across the country.

——————— A few months ago ————————

It was a little while after you and Elvis had come up from dinner. After putting your dishes in the sink and thanking your mother again for the meal she prepared, the two of you quickly but politely and calmly made it a mission to get back up the stairs and into your bedroom like you had done so many instances before. It started when you were little, yawning and waiting patiently to get dismissed from the dinner table to get back to playing, sometimes getting yelled at for trying to race each other up the stairs to see who can get to the top first. Now that the two of you are young adults, you are obliviously unaware at how the urgency to get to your bedroom might look to any bystander. The bystanders being your confused, furrowed brow parents.

It was a vulnerable sunset, the orange hue of golden hour pouring into your window as the only new thing allowed to enter your frilly, pink bedroom. A bedroom whose decor hasn’t changed for years.

The two of you had planned to go page by page through your copy of the high school yearbook from your graduating year, reminiscing together on past experiences and gossiping about where everyone is now. You can clearly recall the moment when you finally were able to wriggle the yearbook from your full well-loved bookshelf, dusting it off and holding it in your hands while Elvis whispered from his spot on the pink, stuffed-animal filled bed behind you his plans about going away to do performances and his hope that you will accompany him. You dropped not only the book you were holding onto the cold hardwood floor but also the smile decorating your face as you turned around to face him.

“What’d you just say, Presley?”

You knew exactly what he muttered. He whispered loud enough to know you could hear him. You were both aware of these quiet facts. Quickly, you scurried over to your bedroom door to grab the doorknob and close it, an action that your parents did not allow when Elvis was over, but at this moment the pure necessity made you not care at all.

His voice was louder and shakier now, his accent getting thicker as he hurriedly tried to explain and convince you all in a few seconds. It was as if the last train was about to leave the station and he's trying his hardest to get you on board. His leg bounces against the bottom of your wooden bed frame.

“I know, I know. It sou-sounds crazy b-bu-but Mama is worried sick about me going and I know she’ll feel better if you’re there with me. I’ll feel better if you’re there with me. You just gotta, you gotta come with me, Satnin. You don’t know how much I need ya, honey. I really do. Never needed ya more than I do now.”

You force words to come out of your mouth in response to this confession of his. He’s never needed you more.

“E-Elvis I can’t just up and leave. What about…”

The tone of his voice has done a 180 and is now trying the best it can to portray calm and certain. The falsehood that everything has been figured out, the hope that everything will be okay. The need that everything will be okay. It’s apparent to him that you need assurance in this moment but his words are not only spoken to you; they are a message of comfort to himself, a plea to the Lord that what he has taught himself to think is actually the plan, that what he has grown to believe is indeed the truth.

“We graduated a while ago. We’re grown now. Ain’t nothing stopping us but ourselves. That’s what I had to tell myself. The only one that’s stopping you is yourself. It’s all doubt.”

You start to pace around the room, your feet going from the softness of your small carpet to the stable hardwood. Every thought and uncertainty is filling your mind at rapid speed and they’re pushing to spill out of your mouth restlessly as if your brain can’t seem to keep them all contained in one spot.

When you regain the ability to form sentences you stop in your tracks to look at him, your racing thoughts are even faster as words.

“I’ve got a family too, Elvis. A loving one just like you do and your mama wouldn’t be the only mama worried. My mother would be more than worried and I can’t imagine leaving her and no way my daddy would just let me roam the country either. You know him, you know how he is.”

“Honey…”

It’s like you don’t even hear him, your brain doesn’t have the space to process that he spoke, “What about all I’ve got here, Elvis? My job at the diner? I told ya that promotion is coming soon. Oh God, I know it is, I’ve been working for a while. I can’t just quit and lose all that progress I made! Brother done moved out to live his life and my parents are gonna be here all alone without me.”

Your feet stop their parading right in front of him, both of your hands on the side of your face like they’re the only thing keeping your head on. Your eyebrows furrow in wonder of why he isn’t trying to combat your words, confused on the fact that he doesn’t seem as concerned as you are.

Elvis decides to gently take both of your shaky hands into his, leading you to sit down on the bed next to him. Your poodle skirt lifts a little in the back just for the top fabric to pool around you and settle back down on the comforter, the breath you take in lifts and settles just the same.

He consoles in almost a whisper, “You don’t gotta worry about all that. It’ll all be alright. We’ll be together.”

“I know we will but….” His thumbs start moving back and forth in a soothing motion, cutting you off.

His voice picks up more, “Please? Come with me? All we’ve been through together, we can’t lose that now. I’m s-so scared of losing that, of losing you. I need to take a piece of home with me. Something to keep me stable, to keep me going. You always do. Every new place I go, I’ll have my Memphis with me.”

He gestures exasperated to you, his Memphis.

You take a long sigh, have all of your years of friendship culminated to this moment? The only movement in the bedroom besides the rise and fall of breath is his steady thumb on the back of your soft hand.

There is a few minutes of uneasy silence before you speak up looking not at him but instead at the glow of the shaded lamp on your nightstand. “How long will we be traveling again? I need to know how much to pack.”

“Well. New dates and venues keep being added and uh—Wait a minute....That means you're coming?” He glances at you, eyes sparkling full of hope.

You stare back at him with a smile, hope matching hope. A soft laugh almost makes your words a melody, “That’s what it means.”

“Oh, Memphis!” Elvis quickly traps you into a big, bear hug as if all of his pent up emotions have been waiting to be released. He’s squeezing you like his life depends on it, his arms around you to hold and keep you close. You giggle at this sudden action as excitement fills the air and fear clouds your mind. But, it’s a good kind of fear. It’s an anticipation that cannot be tamed.

————————————————————————

That day was a while ago. The Colonel has taken Elvis and his band (you and the Memphis Mafia buddies that have tagged along, he has taken begrudgingly) around different parts of the USA. You’ve gone to venue after venue, drove mile after mile, and it was far from done. Tour life has its ups and downs for everybody and it’s proven that the lifestyle is not for the weak of spirit. You have experienced exhilarating parties and contagious laughter that made it so you never wanted the sun to set and the nights to end.

There have also been days that the homesickness stays sitting in your belly, tears threatening to fill your eyes if you thought too hard about Memphis or stared too long at the family picture you kept safe and secure in your bag. An emotional rollercoaster when you come across it while quickly taking something out.

Many had come out for this night’s concert, one of many that Elvis would perform in the sunshine state of Florida. You watch observantly as the crowd around you waited in the open-aired park venue with waiting breath and time-passing fidgets.

It managed to cool down significantly from the heat that coated the early hours of the afternoon, to which everyone was thankful because it hopefully meant less fainting from screaming girls. The fanatic women didn’t have to worry about the sun beaming down to work against them, only Elvis’ attractiveness filling their soul, making them swooningly dazed. Pure anticipation kept the atmosphere thick where the temperature had let up.

You were full of anxiety as you stood alone in the middle of the crowd. You shifted from foot to foot, hand tugging on the edge of your tight black pencil skirt. It hugged your lower half like a glove would and had to be at least a few inches shorter than what was seen as decent. You know that your daddy would have a fit if he saw you dressed like this.

These recent stops have been hardest on your heart, hardest on your mind. It has been too long since you’ve touched your mama’s face, too long since you’ve heard your daddy’s belly laugh. Too damn long since you’ve seen the familiar, calming blue paint of your Memphis home. The same home you were brought home from the hospital to, the same home you left to go on tour.

We’ll be together.

His words have seemed to do nothing but haunt you lately. You’re together all the time, that’s true, but you only seem to be wholefully acknowledged when he remembers you exist. Nowadays, the only long conversations you have are when he needs someone to vent his emotions to and happens to recall that the girl he drags along with him is not only a pretty thing to look at but is also his best friend. You don’t even know if the best friend part still holds up anymore but it hurts too much to even imagine that being the case. If you think too hard about it, you would no doubt throw up right on the lady next to you’s shiny heels.

You play with the strap of your blouse, is it tighter than when you put it on? Is that possible? Well it had to be, no other explanation. You’ve never felt so uncomfortable in a top.

We’ll be together.

He’s together with girls that aren’t you. You shouldn’t be mad about it. You can’t get angry at it, you aren’t his girlfriend. He has no reason to commit to you but now your life is centered all around him. You can’t help the jealousy that fills your mind like a bitter perfume whenever you see him flirt or kiss a random girl. Several beautiful girls crowd around him at each stop, eager to get their hands on Elvis Presley. You sigh knowing that you could never hold a candle to them. If your light shined as bright as there's, why weren’t you his? You give polite, tight-lipped smiles when asked to hold the camera and snap fan photos. You stand there awkwardly shifting back and forth on your feet, playing with your hands in the moments succeeding when he starts smooching all over them with that signature Elvis-style charm after the flash leaves and the picture is snapped. Who knew that there were so many model-worthy women just sitting in Suburban towns waiting to have their lips kissed and boobs grazed by Elvis Presley?

Some nights you find yourself alone under the stars and locked out of your and Elvis’ shared motel room, the only place that you know can be yours in such an uncertain existence. In your place is a gorgeous woman from the party the Memphis Mafia insisted that you all go to after an already long night.

Well, you technically can’t say the lucky woman is “in your place” because the activities occurring on the other side of that lovely door are things you can only dream about Elvis doing to you. There have been many nights where you’ve thought about sneaking in the bed next to yours to feel him in a way you’ve never had. Even if it’s just for sleep.

The reason you two even share motel rooms in the first place is Elvis’ desire to keep you safe and in his line of vision. Away from the access of creepy men roaming around these unfamiliar cities and even some of his Memphis Mafia friend group who think it’s fun to hit on you sometimes. He keeps you close but not too close. You’re stuck in a limbo of not knowing where you stand with a man you’ve grown to know so well. You know with every ounce of your heart that Elvis cares about you, there is no doubt about that, but you don’t know how he feels about you. It leaves you feeling dumb and knowledgeable. Disoriented and understanding.

Little does he know that sometimes you do get tortured sometimes, by no one but him. A mind game he doesn’t even know he’s playing. It leaves you broken, what’s the point?

In the crowd, your hands shake with nerves as if you are the one about to perform. The expensive gold and diamond bracelet Elvis bought in New York and presented to you under the old oak tree in your backyard makes a clanging sound as it moves with your motion. It seems tighter than it was when you put it on earlier. To take your mind off of both boredom and anxiety, you use all of your concentration to unhook the tiny gold clip and you make it looser a few notches. The bracelet had looked so out of place the night he gave it to you; the shine of the metal contrasted with the pastel fabric over your skirt. Though you are sure that the little diamonds throughout the chain shined brighter that night when you were sitting next to Elvis, maybe the light from the sun, maybe the light he radiated.

The jewelry went perfectly with your look tonight. Elvis has been picking out your outfits lately. They have gotten so mature, so grown up, so sexy.

———————— A few hours ago ————————

Elvis’ jaw dropped when you stepped out of the small bathroom looking like the epitome of a Hollywood bombshell in the outfit he had bought for you. He ignored the urge to pat himself on the back with how it all came out. “Wow, honey. You’re tryna kill me, huh? Do a spin, you have ta.”

It’s a tight blouse, a lower cut than you would even think about picking up from the rack but he was glad that could convince you to put it on. Your chest is lifted and displayed perfectly among the bright, satin blue fabric.

He’s used to your lower half being covered beneath the layers of poodle skirts or swing dresses but the tightness of the black skirt was practically nude compared to your usual style.

Some of your body is left to the imagination, how he likes it, but seeing the true outline and curves of your figure was like getting a glimpse of heaven.

You giggled and did as much of a spin as the tight fabric of your skirt and your heels allowed you. “Do you really like it?”

He looked at you, shocked that that’s even a question. “Are you kidding? Like isn’t strong enough of a word. Imma have to beat fellas away with a stick.”

“You’re gonna get jealous? Maybe I should use all my flirting skills tonight. I might meet a nice Floridian boy, you never know.”

“No such thing as one. You should go look at yourself in the mirror though. Might make your head a little bigger but it would be a shame if you didn’t see yourself.”

Your jaw was the next to drop when you got a good look at your full outfit in the mirror. No way the woman staring back in the reflection was you. It had to be someone else.

“Seeing what I’m seeing now, honey?”

You made sure to do every step of the process how Elvis liked it. You had taken his suggestions on how to do your hair and not one strand was out of place. The dark makeup was his idea as well, you’d usually never apply this much. The outfit topped the whole thing off.

“Oh thank you, Elvis! You’ve got a good eye for these types of things, you really do. You’re the bestest. Should pick out my whole wardrobe, that’s how much I like it. It’s beautiful.”

He replied simply but perfectly, making your knees weak as he did it, “You’re beautiful.”

Your eyes tried to meet Elvis’ baby blues in the mirror but couldn’t quite catch them because he was too busy staring at other things. You watched him scan you up and down with those famous bedroom eyes, lidded as in a trance, and you were sure that you could pass out right there. He’s never looked at you with such fever in his eyes before and oh how much you enjoy it now that you’ve had a taste of it. You aren’t sure if you should kiss him or slap him as he lustfully and not so subtly stares at your legs, your hips, your waist, your boobs. His eyes only leave the mirror to look at your backside, not visible in the glass.

Little did you know, you were the manifestation of everything he had worked towards, a physical representation of how far he’s come. His childhood best friend dressed like a leading woman on the big screen…because of him.

At that moment he remembered, a thought provoked by a thought, an incident years back when the two of you were playing and running around the plush grass of your backyard, the blue paint of the house was brighter back then and the birds chirped a little louder. The wooden swing was still intact with both ropes on the tree, aging this story correctly, and your favorite activity in those days was to swing and jump off. One day, Elvis was sitting on the ground watching you demonstrate the skill that was jumping off the swing and the precision it took to get it right. When you leaped, he watched as your skirt went up in the air to act as a parachute, giving him a view of the white cotton panties you wore under your skirt. His eyes widened and his cheeks flushed pink. Years later he can look back and laugh at how innocent and curious he was.

You got up, grass stains on your knees from the jump, and was quick to sit next to him, “Elvis?” You stop trying to catch your breath. “Wasn’t that amazing! I’ve been practicing and yours might not be as good as mine yet cause you are just starting. You gotta time the jump just right..”

You rambled on and on not yet noticing that your friend hadn’t responded yet when suddenly you stopped, noticing his red cheeks. “Elvis? Is everything alright? You’re looking a little pink.” You poked each of his apple-red cheeks with your finger and giggled.

That was the first time Elvis saw you, or anyone for that matter, in such a way. There was a weird pang in his heart, a blush that didn’t want to tame, and a fast shaking of his head when you asked what had gotten him so flustered that he wasn’t able to speak for a whole minute. Years later, he’s the one dressing you.

He smiles to himself at the memory. You saw each other grow up. Elvis started to notice you wear makeup. Your eyelashes magically got longer, little did he know at the time that this was due to mascara, something that has since become well acquainted with. The pretty pink blush that you used to only have when you were flustered and embarrassed stayed permanent on your cheeks as if normal. Over the years, he noticed how your tops started to fill out more, something he felt bad about taking glances at in those teenage years when he had the hormonal urge to stare. Well he still has those urges at 21, but that’s beside the point. Your face has matured into its features. You’ve always been pretty but have you always been this gorgeous?

He’s taken out of his own head when he feels you turn from the mirror and hug him, he uses his hand to pet your head lovingly and follow the shape of your hair.

———————— 20 minutes ago ————————

All those thoughts he had a few hours ago while getting ready in the motel room lingered in his head when you last saw each other about 20 minutes ago. He looked over at you once more backstage before sending you out to join the crowd waiting. “Go out there and enjoy the performance, honey.”

You have gotten used to being a backstage-dweller, watching from the sidelines getting a view that few others would ever have. The only downside was not being able to see all of Elvis’ pretty face while he performed but that stunning side profile was enough to keep you satisfied.

“I can’t just stay back here? No crowds…no sweat…no pushing. It’s nice”

“You think I dolled ya up for you to hide? I wanna see you while I’m performing. Spending all your time behind the scenes you can’t get the full picture. Might forget why you’re here.”

“Are you sure?”

“Don’t know why I’d say it if I wasn’t sure. Do I have a reason to lie?”

“That’s not what I asked.”

“But that’s what I answered, honey.”

You huff, “Fine.”

————————————————————————

This series of events is how you ended up in your current situation.

The cold barricade is the only spot of cool under waiting torsos as you are only two rows back from being able to count the dust of the stage. You take a glance at the curtain stage left, trying to get a glimpse at the man who sent you out here. It’s to no avail as you are just a little too far back and the curtains have no give in their ability to stay closed. Your right hand goes up to cover your chest in defense when while looking to the side you catch one unsuspecting girl’s boyfriend trying to pass the time by staring at you a little too intensely. If looks could kill, you’d have been dead a long time ago. Girls look at you with disgust as if you were planted as an opener for their boyfriends to gawk at; boyfriends who only came out to make their gals happy, their hair styled in the hope that she’ll pretend he’s Elvis later on tonight. Some didn’t care or acknowledge your existence at all which made you wonder if these “stares” were all imaginary. Just your mind trying to protect you from something not happening. No way they weren’t real, if they weren’t you wouldn’t be so itchy right now, and your breath wouldn’t be so heavy even when the humid air is giving you nothing to work with.

You felt so desirable and confident when Elvis was eyeing you at the motel, what happened? Maybe the realization that you’re attracting the wrong people. You aren’t desired by the man your heart yearns for most. All dolled up to be a woman created for you to be, a woman that you knew that if you thought hard enough, if you worked hard enough you can one day become. The shell had been made for you to fill in seamlessly and it was still uncomfy. And oh how much you wanted it.

The lights go down and rogue screams of excitement accompany it. The lights are back up in a few seconds and there he is in all his glory, Elvis Presley. He still has that radiating quality that can be seen in the dark, a boyish smirk that causes women to shriek, hair that except for a few pieces in the front would be flawless. His suit is a little oversized but still perfect. He didn’t look real and every time you see him perform you are taken back as if it’s your first time ever laying eyes on him. Like a flower, Elvis blossoms like a flower in spring while on stage. It’s where he shines the brightest. He’s the boy you’ve always known transformed into something more than just potential. It’s the best version of himself, being in your happy place will do that to a person.

You focus on fawning over the man on the platform as if he’s the only thing that matters. The only interior taking you abruptly out of this reality is a push….not a push, a shove. It’s the group of younger teenage girls behind you trying to get closer to the stage. Someone else bumps into your shoulder as you look over. You can feel people’s breaths around you, the sweat, the sticky warm air, the heat of it all mixing together. It was never roomy on the grass, but the bubbles of personal space subconsciously given in to everyone in the crowd popped in that moment and the people just started getting closer and closer.

It was like a sea of magnets attracted to one thing and you wanted to yell at yourself for picking a spot as close as you were to the stage. Your breath quickened as screams got louder and louder, more and more overwhelming. Are these girls next to perform? How are they getting up to those octaves?

A man holding his woman’s hand, trying to get his gal closer to the front, had to have not seen you in front of him as he pushed through. It was at this moment that the loosened gold bracelet sitting around your wrist flew off and landed on the grass next to you. As you reach to pick it up, tears making your vision blurry, the front of a lady’s heel steps on it, the delicate chain snapping. Your gasp was full of fear and surprise, it was as delicate and small as the bracelet. Either the shock was too pure to come out of your mouth and instead went down to your heart or the sound was drowned out by the noise surrounding you. Maybe both. You were too small to be heard.

The offender walked away quickly and nonchalantly as if the metal of your most beloved possession was as soft as grass. Frozen in place before continuing your mission, the seconds you spend bending down to pick it up from the ground felt like hours. Gasping for air as if you were underwater, your shaky hands reach for the bracelet, now split into two pieces of chain. You grab onto whatever you can, fist turning white and the journey back up was even tougher. It felt like your throat was closing up like the pressure changed from the ground to normal height. No breath you take is deep enough for an efficient amount of air. Why can’t you breath? Your nose stuffs up and your lips shake in a shiver. The stampede of hormones is well past by now, you aren’t squished, no ones touching you but at this moment everything feels too close. Everyone’s focus is on Elvis, no one is even acknowledging your existence but it's still embarrassing to feel the tears travel down your face, getting ready to stain the surface.

Not knowing what else to do, you start to hurriedly walk the opposite direction of the stage, trying to find anywhere to go that wasn’t there in the grass. The only time in your life that you are trying to escape that silky Southern voice. You give a small “sorry” here and a tiny “excuse me” there as you make your way past people too entranced by Elvis’ performance to notice that someone was talking to them. Your voice was so weak and shaky that your mind made you doubt if they could even hear you over the noise, doubt if the words came out of your mouth to begin with.

Your walking leads you away from the crowd and your journey ends next to the water fountains outside the restrooms. This mundane spot is where your tired mind decides is good enough refuge to sit, not caring one bit about what you would look like to an observer.

The far away side view of Elvis Presley giving his all on stage and the crowd of people elated below it is more beautiful from back here. Your head leans back against the brick of the wall of the small restroom building. There’s a hope that the act of laying your head back would allow you to take an actual full breath despite the soreness of your throat, a hope that laying your head back would prevent the tears in the corners of your eyes from flowing down and ruining your makeup despite the immense emotion filling your mind.

Stop crying, stop crying, stop crying. There is no reason for the tears. You didn’t die, you didn’t get hurt. But it still hurts. Nothing happened to you, why are you such a scaredy cat? An overdramatic pathetic girl, a jumpy sheep who’s crying wolf, a…

Breathe.

Your view is up and all you see is the stars. It’s a starry night in Florida, the type of starry night that would give Van Gogh the inspiration to paint a masterpiece. The stars are small dots, all could be mistaken for the others accompanying the dark blue. All except for one. One star is larger and burns brighter than the others, if you stare long enough it vibrates in the sky. It shimmers, it gleams, it gives warmth, it gives hope.

For the first time since it was laying on the ground you decide to look at your bracelet, or what was left of it. After opening your fist, besides a few pieces of grass, you see a gold chain split in half. When looking closely at the small diamonds decorating it, you notice that one of them is missing. All of a sudden your lip quivers and your eyes gloss over as if getting the same queue. You glance over at the stage, the one star that can bring you comfort doesn’t even know you are hurting, he isn’t here to protect you. All alone your vision focuses on him with all its might, his moving figure is a little blurry through watery eyes but he’s there and that’s what matters.

The performance takes 5 minutes and 5 hours at the same time. You watched the whole show, your knees up and head resting on crossed arms as the tears dry in your face. It’s when he exits the stage to roaring applause that you get up from your spot on the ground. You know from your time backstage that when Elvis walk’s off out of view from the crowd he is no longer a figure floating on adrenaline, he’s your tired, sweaty best friend who you provide with a water bottle and a hug. You need to see him, you’ve felt alone and abandoned for so long, you need Elvis.

Determinedly, you walk as fast your wobbly legs and painful heels will take you. You are able to easily get past security to get backstage because the man standing in all black guarding the entrance was able to recognize you from when Elvis sent you to the audience earlier. By the time you get to the crowd of crew and band that you’re sure Elvis is in the middle of, your calves are burning with exhaustion. Your eyes move frantically in their search and finally you see him, he has a beautiful glow making him stand out in the pack of people.

You run up as soon as you see him, almost rolling your ankle as you fall onto him, arms enclosing his body with a tight hug. “Elvis!” You thought the tears had run out a while ago but there was something about being in his embrace, feeling his warmth and presence, being filled with his scent that makes every emotion that you experienced alone rise up again inside of you. You sob into his blazer, not letting him go.

At first he’s shocked thinking that fan snuck her way backstage but he hugs regardless, immediately recognizing that it’s you. “Satnin? W-wh-what happened?”

“Oh Elvis, I can’t be out there anymore. It was so scary and there were so many people crowding and I was bout to fall and trip. A-and my clothes are too revealing, they gotta be. People kept looking at me but not the way you look at me, it was real different. I just wanted to be around ya so you could protect m-me but you were performing! I didn’t know what to do…I was all alone. I don’t wanna be alone anymore.”

He’s never seen you this vulnerable, this broken. “Did someone hurt you, baby?”

You pull away just a little to look up at him, your face is puffy and red from crying and Elvis swears you’ve never looked so small. You look so young, cheeks and big eyes reminding him of the little girl he met all those years ago, not the femme fatale prototype he saw in the mirror just a few hours ago. A broken girl in a woman’s clothing. Pure Memphis was in your eyes, reminders of simpler times.

“I was so nervous, Elvis. I just wanted to be with you.”

“Honey, I asked ya a question. No one hurt you out there right? Answer me ‘cause if some bastard put his hands on ya, I’ll kill the son of a bitch.”

“No! No one hurt me. I was just so scared…I was just so scared. And look!” You show him the fragments of what once was bravely in your hand. “I broke it, Elvis. I’m so sorry. You got it just for me and it must’ve been so expensive and it fell off my hand and broke. O-one of the things is gone and I don’t even know if I grabbed every piece of the ground. That’s why you can’t buy me stuff, Elvis, I told ya that. I’m too clumsy for nice, fancy things.”

“Shhhh…shhh, baby. We’re going back to the room. It’s all gonna be okay. Forget the damn bracelet, it don't mean anything to me. You’re alright and that’s all that matters. You’re okay now, you’re safe now.”

Elvis puts an arm around your waist and guides you through the crowd, ignoring everyone who tries to talk to him except for a few words when asks, not asks tells, one of the guys to drive the two of you home. He quickly opens the door to a car, rushing you in with him to head home.

Home being the motel. You two are miles from Memphis , the home your heart longs to see again.

The ride back to the motel is quiet. The most quiet it has ever been when the two of you are around each other. The car drives there fast but the journey home always feels shorter than the trip you took to go. That is what keeps the world spinning, if not, hope would be lost too soon.

Within what seems like the blink of an eye or the very long blink of your tiny little car nap, you arrive at the dimly lit sanctuary. Giving the driver a small “thank you”, you and Elvis get out of the car simultaneously and walk silently to the room assigned for the both of you, he opens the door to let you in first.

Immediately after walking in and locking the door, Elvis takes off his blazer, the button up he's wearing underneath now on full display, and he throws it on a chair. You walk over to the bathroom, a dim shade of yellow filling the room after you turn on the light. The reflection in the mirror was horrifying, there was a stark contrast from how amazing and put together you looked earlier. Your mascara is smudged from tears and you try your best to rub the residue off with your finger. Your cheeks can be easily compared to red apples and your lipstick is in need of a reapply. Aware of the fact that you look like a hot mess but not having the strength to do anything about it, your attention goes back to the broken bracelet that you’ve had in your tight grasp ever since it was picked up from the floor.

Elvis sits down on his bed, rubbing his eyes as if deep in thought. The silence of the room can be described as comfortable only for the fact that it differs from the loud noise of the venue.

Giving up in your attempts to put all of the pieces of the bracelet together on the counter, you sigh and turn around to head to the main bedroom. It’s when you see Elvis that you’re reminded of everything and all the emotions start to well up again.

You have to tell him. Break it to him easily. Make up your mind.

Your mind stays fast and something is on the tip of your tongue, your lips quiver and in an ill attempt to display conviction in your statement, it instead comes out in a broken, quiet, and tear stained whisper,

“I can’t do it anymore, E.”

Elvis looks up, his hands dropping from his face to fall on his knees, his voice shows true confusion at your sudden words, “What?”

“I can’t do this. I can’t, Elvis. It ain’t me.” Your hands gesture to yourself, not only the Elvis-picked outfit but all the tears and tiredness apparent as well.

He shakes his head unseriously as if this is all too ridiculous to be real, “What do you mean it ‘ain’t you’? We’re making it you. You just gotta get used to it.”

“You always say that but it ain’t working, I’m not the type of girl you want me to be. I need to go home, I just wanna go home.” This last statement comes out as almost as plea, like a little kid’s complaint when they don’t want to go to school.

“So you’re just gonna leave me? Just like that?” He decides to stand up, questions coming out of his mouth defensively. You hate hearing the tone of disappointment in his voice, it’s as if you are unjustified, unreasonable.

“I’m not leaving you…”

“You’re leaving me.”

Face to face, you look up at him, tears threatening to roll down your face again at his harsh and direct accusations. “Elvis, I’m so tired, so exhausted. I wanna be here for you, I want to be everything you want…You don’t know how bad I want that, how bad I need ya to be happy with me b-but…”

“You’re going back to Memphis? This is so outta the blue, honey. This is coming from nowhere, you’re happy and all of a sudden you wanna go home.”

“I’m sorry, Elvis. I think it’s best that I go home. There ain’t no place for me here, no purpose for me being here, no spot to fill.”

“Leaving this…”

His voice is firm in his words and his hand moves around the room as if you forget where you were and then he continues, “..is leaving me. My life is different now. You can’t just quit when it gets hard. I need your support, you don’t know how much I need you here with me. Don’t just up and leave. I make sure you’re alright, I buy you all this fancy shit, I accommodate for ya and I don’t know what I’m doing wrong. I’m doing it for my folks and you. That’s what I’ve always told ya, what I’ve always told myself. It’s for Mama, Daddy, and you. That’s it. All of this ain’t for me, it’s never been. Let me satisfy you. This is your place, that’s the spot you’re filling.”

The sound of your voice raises and your tone has changed to match his in attempts to defend yourself, “Don’t act like I’m abandoning you, Elvis. I’ve supported you ever since I met you. I don’t need fancy things to make me happy, it ain’t about that. I don’t need you spending a dollar on me. I’m just a regular old girl from Memphis and for some reason your mind thinks I’m someone else.”

“You’ve always been you. Ain’t no other girl like you. You know that you’re special, I’ve known ya for so long.” He reassures you as if stating the obvious, something you should know and not be doubting. Something that for some odd reason you have seemed to forget.

“That’s the problem. You’re so focused on what I represent, how I make you feel. I’m not some memento from Memphis that you can carry around in your pocket like spare change. That don’t make me sound like a person. I’m all alone. I’m surrounded by so many people, been places I’ve never stepped foot it in, and I’ve never been so lonely. You don’t give me a second thought. I’m only here when it’s convenient for you, when it’s convenient for me to exist. That ain’t friendship. I’m only here when you’re struggling, I’m struggling, Elvis.”

His voice gets even louder and at this point it’s almost like a contest of who can outdo the other in loudness of volume and truth of defensive statements. “You don’t think I’m lonely? You don’t think it’s overwhelming for me too? Everyone thinks life is all good and dandy for Elvis Presley. Sun is shining all the time when you’re tryna support everyone. It’s all fun and games when you get all the pressure on your shoulders, the attention from everyone, the press hounding ya…”

You can’t help but roll your eyes in annoyance and throw your hands down in exasperation, “Here we go again. You’re the only one going through things. We’re all just planets going around your sun. No one else is allowed to feel? I’m trying to get you to understand what I’m feeling and it’s all about you again.”

The smart choice would be to calm the situation down but your honor can’t let you. To you he is the Elvis you’ve known for years and years, one that isn’t any better than you.

His face gets a deeper shade of red as if you have finally struck a nerve and he points his finger at you accusingly, “You aren’t gonna disrespect me like that. Acting like I’m some selfish bastard.”

“I never said that-” You back up as you realize it has started to get too serious, too real. You’ve never had an argument this momentous and your voice reflects the shock.

“That’s the last thing you’re gonna do, woman. If you wanna spend all your time in Memphis, do that. Live your whole life sitting in that same ole house, I don’t give a damn.” Annoyance seeps out of his voice and you aren't sure if it’s stubbornness or irresponsibility that makes you keep arguing.

“Why am I an extra in your life, Elvis? My whole life revolves around you and you don’t give me the time of day. I hate that I’ve taught myself I’m only good when you’re around. It makes me sick to my stomach. What happened to ‘we’ll always be together?’ We haven’t been for a long time now.”

“Then why do it in the first place? Why let me drag you around if you’re gonna nag and complain about how miserable you are? Why say yes?”

“Because I love you Elvis!” At this moment his face softens immediately.

Your voice breaks into a cry as the strong walls you have built up from the ash have broken down again, “A-and I’m so scared, I’m terrified. Everything’s changing and I’m terrified of losing ya. I wanna make you happy, I want you to love me. But maybe I’m not cut out for it. I’m not good enough for this life.”

He reaches out to hold your hands, “Don’t say that—”

“I wish with every bone in my body that I was but I’m not. I can’t be the girl that you want me to be. Maybe you’ve grown from needing me and I’m still stuck. But if that’s true I gotta sort it out alone, I can’t hold you back.”

In this moment his lips touch yours and you are taken aback for a second from shock, immediately you close your eyes and kiss him back just as passionately. The kiss is years of pent up emotions and years of confessions unsaid.

He pulls away, puts his hands on your hips to stabilize you, and speaks confidently, “I love you, Satnin. I always have and I always will. If I haven’t been showing ya that recently then I’m real stupid. You’re all I want you to be, I beg ya believe me. I don’t know what kinda girl you think you can’t be, but we’ll sort it out.. I’ll make sure we see it through because I love you. I’m in love with you and my biggest regret is not telling you sooner.”

You’re at a loss for a verbal response so your body’s natural instinct takes over and it’s your turn to kiss him, both of your hands cup his face as your lips take ownership of what they’ve always wanted. It’s just as passionate as the kiss you two shared prior, but this one is full of heat. His hands roaming up and down your body feeling anything he can as his lips focus on yours just adds to the friction.

It’s a desire that fills and energizes, a desire that refuses to be tamed just by the touching of lips and moving of mouths. The tension in the room is different from the cold atmosphere of a few minutes ago; it’s dirty, it’s sloppy, it’s sexual. The seconds of kissing turns into a few minutes of a make out session, one that has only occurred before in your fantasies. You’ve both been standing for a while but neither of your legs are tired.

The kiss is only broken when Elvis moves his hand to your ass and after a squeeze he picks you up, your legs wrapping around his waist as your arms do the same around his neck.

He whispers seductively in a tone you’ve never heard him use with you before, “I’m gonna show you how much I love ya. Just you wait. I wanna make it up to you.”

He carries you over to his bed and places you gently onto the soft sheets. Elvis kneels down on the ground in front of you as you lay, biting your lip in anticipation. His hands go to take off your heels, the ones that were killing your feet earlier but adrenaline dulled the pain. “Don’t want your little sooties to be all sore now.”

You blush light pink at the baby slang for your feet, the softness of his words contrasting from the passionate feelings of this moment.

It’s when he comes back up from his spot on the ground to lean on top of you on the bed, the veins on his arms showing themselves off beautifully as he holds himself up, that you realize the seriousness of what’s about to happen.

His lips move from your mouth, down your chin and to your neck. At first it starts with little ticklish pecks, then sucking on your skin that is sure to leave marks all over you in the morning. It isn’t until the first small moan escapes your mouth that you realize the seriousness of the moment. Your back instinctively arches as he moves to your collarbone; it’s as if your body has known for a while what’s going to happen, what it wants to happen, and your brain has just unfuzzed enough to catch up. He wants to have sex with you and you want to have sex with him too.

The arch in your back gives him the cue to lift you even more up to reach the zipper on the back of your top. Your heart pangs and he lifts his mouth from your skin when he notices the way you shiver at his touch on the small of your back. “I-Is this alright? Are you comfortable with this? I don’t wanna move forward if you aren’t comfy.”

“This is more than alright, Elvis. You can keep going…please.” He nods without saying a word and uses his right and unzips your top seamlessly, it’s like it was meant to be taken off this way. The only non gentle part of this process is him taking the top in his hands and looking at it before throwing the garment across the room. This took you by surprise at first but he did buy it for you, so you suppose it’s his to take off and throw. Before you know it your bra is unclipped as well and the room’s cold air hits your warm chest making you shiver again.

“Wow, honey.” Elvis’ licks his lips as he takes you in. Your breasts move up and down with your breathing. “Can’t believe you’ve been hiding ‘em from me…”

He bends down and gives each of your breasts a long kiss, evoking a small giggle from you. His mind compares your laugh to the most beautiful of melodies.

His eyes bounce back and forth between your giggle-induced bouncing breaths as he begins to talk to them. “She’s been covering yall up? Hiding you two from Elvis? That aint fair ain’t it?”

“Elvis stop that.” You give a small eye roll as the laughter vibrates your whole body and the smile on your face lights up the room.

He smiles as he gives your nipple a small nibble in order to get another reaction from your body before looking up at your eyes again. Your blush reminds him of a pretty picture, “It’s like ya locked me out of heaven.”

You laugh at his exaggeration, “You’re too much.”

“You’re just enough.” He kisses your lips again.

He moves his mouth down your stomach and stops when met with another roadblock: your skirt. He just shakes his head and the zipper is undone faster than the one that was keeping your top together. You lift your ass to help shimmy out of the fabric and with Elvis’ help it rolls down your legs to drop on the ground between his feet.

The sight he sees below him at this moment is one he has only seen in his wet dreams, one he has moaned about when erections snuck up on him, one that makes him get even harder in his pants then he already is.

You lay before him with the cutest shade of pink flushing your face, your lips slightly parted as you stare at him awaiting his next move, your chest fully exposed as if inviting him in, and the only item of clothing still keeping some sort of mystery from his eyes is the cotton white panties on your bottom half. It’s the only thing that he isn’t quick to take off once it gets in his way, it’s like a gift on Christmas. A special present you’ve been anticipating all year, for him longer.

Your blush gets even redder in embarrassment as you assume that he’s looking at the growing wet spot dampening the fabric, staining the sea of innocence. It’s one you can’t explain, a wetness that you only get when around him. One that makes you clamp your legs together subconsciously whenever an innuendo hits the right spot. It’s one that calls for obliviously necessary panty changes when you rush to bathroom expecting your monthly blood, to pull down your pants and find out that the “blood” is a pool of translucency.

“Can I take these off, honey?” His fingers play with the upper band of your underwear restlessly, waiting for permission to get exploring a new world. Lewis and Clark getting ready to explore Louisiana. Settlers waiting to go travel west in the search for gold. Elvis doubts that any gold buried in California is a good comparison to the teasing quality of your snatch against the see through white veil of your panties. He looks at you patiently, you’re the fucking American Dream.

You nod your head shyly at him, still unsure of the fact that you’re about to be truly exposed before him. It’s a vulnerable state in which all humans come. Adam and Eve weren’t aware they were naked until after they sinned and you’re about to eat the apple.

Unexpectedly, Elvis shakes his head at you as if you got an answer wrong in class and he’s trying to lightly break it to you. He will break it to you, firm but encouraging, dominant but soft, “Nuh uh. Gotta use your words, baby. Be a big girl and answer me, I need to hear ya say yes. You usually ain’t got no issue with that. Such a talker and now you’re as quiet as a dormouse?”

“Yes. You can ta-take them off.” Your quiet voice doesn’t beat the dormouse accusations and you can’t help but be embarrassed by your weak stutter but you are all the way sure that you want this. You’ve never wanted anything more.

“Thank you.” Elvis wasn't gonna fight you on that, he was a racing horse ready for the starting gate to open, a hungry tiger waiting to pounce. After hearing the sweetness of your consent, there never was a sweeter sound, he gently but efficiently pulls down your panties, exposing yet another part of your delicate body to the cold air. With the same fate as your black skirt, your panties start to be rolled down your legs but instead of letting them reach the ground, Elvis lifts both of your legs slightly to grab the white fabric and put it in the pocket of his pants. He knows that the pants won’t stay on for much longer but even when they eventually fall to the floor, his party favor will stay secure.

He does a full look over you again from your face down to your pussy, a sight that for a while he thought he’d never get the blessing of seeing in person. A sight that there are no words to describe quite right. His voice is breathless as he speaks to you, “You’re gorgeous.”

You’re too focused on looking at his concentrated face to notice his fingers going to touch your soaked cunt, a high pitched moan of surprise leaves your mouth. Not only surprised at his tender fingers touching the hissing heat, but surprised at how fantastic it feels. The two fingers making contact are the perfect balance of soft and calloused. They go back and forth, exploring your pillowy pink cunt like it’s a new guitar waiting to be tested out. Even with just a few seconds of touch, your arousal coats him welcomingly already. “All this slick is for me? I did this to ya? All this for Lil’ Elvis, he’s a lucky guy.”

“Al-all for you, Elvis. Always for you.”

Elvis in all his experience knows exactly where to go to make you twitch in satisfaction, the tiny bundle of nerves is the sweet spot. His fingers move in a circular motion, his fast pace never tiring. Your moans start to pick up and Elvis swears it’s the best sound he’s ever had the privilege to have heard in his 21 years of living. The moans are soft and breathy for the most part, here and there you let out a deep alto coming from your core.

“Oh, Elvis!” The first yell of his name is like ecstasy for him.

As if suddenly aware where you are, a motel room, not a floating cloud in heaven, you bite your lip to be careful. You can just imagine the weird stares you’d get from people in the morning, especially the ones that know it was your high voice disrupting an otherwise peaceful late night.

As if noticing those satisfying, constient noises of pleasure being muffled, rather terribly, Elvis looks up from your distracting pussy for the first time in a while. His fingers never stop their circles on your clit. “Let me hear ya. Don’t keep those sweet noises from me, darling. Don’t ever do that.” You're amazed at how he can multitask, a small reprimand comes out of his mouth while his fingers give the most pleasing feeling in the world, all simultaneously.

Remembering faintly behind the wispy clouds fogging your mind the loud sounds that you’ve heard from other guests while staying in random rooms around the country, your concerns manage to string together a sentence. “Th-the walls are thin. People can’t hear m-me.”

People can hear you. They can hear you well, what you meant is that you don’t want people to hear you but the words didn’t quite come out that way.

“You want em to hear ya moaning and screaming? Gonna up the ante, doll?”

“N-no, no! Don’t wanna…don’t want them.”

“Oh. Well t-those folks don’t matter none. Nothing matters right now but you and me. Me and you.”

To drive this idea into your mind, to take your worrying head off of consequences, one of Elvis’ fingers makes his way inside of you gently. Your walls naturally squeeze around his finger and his cock pulses in his pants in pure jealousy, Lil’ Elvis getting impatient for his turn. His long finger curls just a bit before sitting still inside of you for a second, your button hissing at being left abandoned. He moves his finger in and out of you gently as he speaks, “Jeez, baby. When was the last time someone touched ya? You’re as tight as a virgin.”

You freeze in that moment, for you are a virgin and he senses this immediately from your hesitation, the way your bright eyes widen and long eyelashes flutter as if a secret just became uncovered. From your reaction you’d think he started fucking you already. “Elvis…I-I…”

“Oh. You are…? A w-while ago you were with that…thought you were….Never mind that. I know I gotta give ya that extra attention now. I’m gonna get ya prepped for me, honey. Ju-just wish ya would’ve spoken up and let a guy a know…It’s a big thing for ya pretty head to keep secret.”

Having a bigger duty and responsibility on his shoulders after learning that you’ve never taken a cock before, Elvis knows he’s gotta take extra time with you and he has any complaints about that. Even if you weren’t a virgin, he would’ve been mindful with you anyways for it was the gentleman thing to do. Elvis Presley might be a horny man, a horny man who’s cock wants nothing more to be buried inside of you fucking you senseless, but he’s not selfish son of a bitch.

He wiggles and works a second finger inside of you, your eyebrows furrow and eyelids close at the sensation. As he sets his pace inside of your pussy, your moans get louder as if building up to something. You make no attempt to hold them back, but even if you tried there’s no way you could for the pleasure was too strong.

“Elvis! O-oh…yes, yes!”

“There you go…Let all that shit go, all those bad thoughts. Atta girl.”

You feel something build deep inside of your lower stomach, it’s like a fire being fed. When Elvis feels your walls start to clench, he stops and immediately slips out of you. It’s quick and easy since you are so slick.

What you didn’t expect more than his touch leaving you was an anger building inside of you. Your brows furrowed in confusion and your voice was quick to implore him for answers, “What the….? Why’d you stop? You can’t just—”

He chuckles, making you more annoyed. “Shhh….Imma give ya what you want, Imma give ya everything ya need.”

In his kneeling position at the edge of the bed he adjusts a little and moves his head down so it’s face to face with your cunt. “Such a needy girl with an even greedier pussy. Greedy for something it don’t even know.”

You whine as your body shimmy’s down further, desperate to meet his mouth. He puts his hands on your thighs, opening your legs more and keeping you stable at the same time. “Both of you are whining for me, huh? I’ll take care of ya.”

In that moment he kisses your cunt with a small peck and your mind flips on itself. His laugh vibrates your pussy. He’s amused by the fact that if that tiny kiss made you jump you had a bigger surprise waiting for you and oh he couldn’t wait to show you. He’s the only one who knows what’s coming next.

Elvis’ mouth makes contact with your cunt again, eating you out with unending strokes of vigor and passion like it’s what he was put on this earth to do, he’s close to the finish line of something he’s been dreaming of accomplishing for a long time: helping you reach your finish line.

Your legs bend around his head, encasing him in paradise. Your left hand meets and intertwines with his right one, holding hands is such an innocent gesture at a time like this but it’s so perfect. In contrast, your right hand grips the sheets with whitening knuckles. “Yes, Elvis! Just like that….Oh Lord.”

His tongue has no mercy as it devours you, he’s like a starving animal. Your hips, also chasing, buck up to meet his mouth halfway. He works you perfectly and it isn’t long before the storm starts to brew in your lower tummy again, like lightening is waiting to strike.

“Please, please, oh please, please.” You don’t even know exactly what you’re pleading for, just some release, some finish.

“I’m…I’m...oh my God.” Your words serve as a strong caffeine as Elvis starts to suck on your sensitive clit and that’s when the band breaks and you reach euphoria. A wave of satisfaction floods your body like the ocean, it's a feeling so foreign but so instinctual, new but always meant to be. Your moans are easily the loudest they’ve been so far and your legs start to shake intensely. The room seems to spin around you as you start to see the stars, the same ones you saw decorating the night sky outside. Elvis licks and sucks you through your high, tasting the sweet honey of your release on his face as your legs close tightly around his head, making him go deeper.

Moving your hips against him to ride out your finish, your body feels limp as you try to catch your breath. Elvis lifts his head and looks at you with a grin, an attempt to lift your hand to wipe his face is a failure since your hand shakes as soon as you bring it up and ends up falling right back on the sheets. He licks his lips and comes back up to kiss you.

His grin is boyish as if proud that he was the one to make you feel that way. The first man to give you an orgasm, the first man to make you writhe and moan, the first man who’s name is screamed by that parted mouth of yours. Hopefully the only man to ever make you do those things. His mind will remember this in the future when met with any of your smartass remarks, eye rolls, or teasing. Is it wrong for him to love that? Too damn bad he’d say.

He whispers in your ear, thick southern drawl and all, “You feel better, mhm? You were being so good for me, honey. You taste like some honey too, no doubt.”

Your voice is as shaky as your legs were just a second ago, “I l-love you, Elvis.”

“I love you too, baby.”

A need to give back fills your heart and you somehow manage in this jelly-like state to sit up, your hands going towards Elvis’ pants. When you cup the hard bulge in his trousers, his head falls back with a groan. “F-fuck…see what you do to me?” You nod, amazed at the fact that you are the reason for his arousal. When he unzips his pants and pulls down his underwear with them, he is as hard as a rock, standing at attention because of you.

After taking off his bottom garments, he kneels on the sheets of the bed and goes to unbutton his white dress shirt as you stare at his cock. Assuming that this is the first one you have ever seen, he isn’t all anxious but is instead proud of Lil’ Elvis and the gawking reaction he is getting from you.

The only time you had seen a penis was in middle school sex education class but that was only a drawing of one. It was 9am and the black and white non-detailed sketch of the male anatomy was met with giggles by your immature classmates. For you it was met with a yawn considering the time was 9 in the morning and your only objective in that time slot is to stay awake.

Fast forward to the present day sitting in front of a hard cock, the one belonging to Elvis Presley, was nothing short of fascinating. This one differed in some ways from the one you were shown years back in class, not only was it more detailed and quite a bit bigger, but there was extra skin covering the tip. This observation interests you and with curiosity getting the best of your racing mind, you bring your hand up to wrap your fingers around the thick of his length and pull just a little bit of skin back gently with a soft up and down motion.

When you do this, your glimpse at a pink tip and a bead of liquid forming in the slit was just a small glance because Elvis twitched around you immediately, a small moan. In fear that you’ve hurt the man you love, your hand immediately draws back as if he was a stone that burnt you.

“I-I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to hurt ya, E. I should’ve asked, I really should’ve. You asked before—”

“Honey, honey!” He cuts your worries off. “It’s alright, you didn’t hurt me. I-It’s ju-just felt really good. The way you got all shaky when I kissed ya all nice? It’s the same thing.”

“Oh.” Just a simple motion would help him reach that dream-like state you were in just a few minutes ago? It seems like women were more complicated.

You weren’t oblivious to the fact that many women took cock inside their mouths to pleasure their men. You’ve overheard Elvis and his Memphis Mafia talk about women “giving them head” which you have assumed is a girl making them fall apart with just her head. There’s only one hole on the face big enough to please so your mind decided to fit the puzzle pieces together on its own, unsure if your puzzle matched the truth.

If you knew how to perform this critically acclaimed “head giving” you would in an attempt to satisfy your already watering mouth, but in fear of the unknown you decided to stick to what you’ve been told feels good. You decide to keep pumping him, up and down, up and down. His voice is breathy with encouraging praises. “J-just like that, baby. So good for me. Making me feel so nice…so nice.”

It’s pure vulnerability sitting across from each other fully naked, you pleasing him right after he pleased you. It’s when your fingertip goes to swipe at the beads decorating the slit of his red tip that he stops you with a hiss.

“You’re gonna finish me quick if ya keep on. Now Lil’ Elvis may not mind either way, you’ll find out he’s a horny thing, but it’s better if I’m in ya. I wanna be inside ya. Lay down, honey.”

You do as he says and lay down obediently, trying to mentally prepare yourself by taking deep breaths.

Part of him wanted to take you from behind, fucking you fast and rough until tears form on your face, tears of pleasure this time. But knowing what he knows about your lack of past experience and wanting to see your face as you take him for the first time, he’ll have you lay down comfortably. He has no problem at all either way, he’d even be pleased if the night ended right here without him coming to that sweet finish. A day ended after eating you out is a day well spent in his book.

“Imma go real slow. It might sting a bit cause you’re all fresh and new down there but you’re a big girl. My strong little satnin, I know you can do it. You’ll take me.”

“Okay.” You remember his demand earlier to use your words to respond and you do so.

He leans over you, getting in a good position to enter. While rubbing his tip against your cunt in preparation, edging you both in the process, he swears that he could finish right there easily.

You look down at the spot where you are to connect with amazement. Knowing for a fact that Elvis is anything but a virgin, you trust his skill and watch his process. It seems planned out prefectures and oh how glad you are to have a perfect man. No one on earth is perfect but Elvis Presley is so perfectly Elvis Presley. The things he excels at never disappoint.

You feel the burning plunge of his entry and immediately both hands go to grip as much of the white sheets as they can. Once he has the tip in his eyes go up and down interchangeably, watching both your face and your pussy while you take him. It’s better than any movie.

He continues on his slow journey inside of you. Meanwhile, you’re a pain you’ve never felt before, no way things are supposed to go up there. No way things are designed specifically to go up there. If they were, why is it so big?

His voice is breathy and his eyebrows furrow in concentration. “F-fuck…Tight ass pussy. Sucking me in.”

Your groan is a mix of pleasure at his words and of pain at the impaling you’re experiencing. For a split second you think about looking away, like not watching the needle go in you at the doctors office, but you can’t.

He’s only about half way in when you convince yourself that there is no way you can take more.

“It hurts like hell, Elvis. S-stop, just for a second. I need to breathe..I can’t breathe.” He halts the second you say stop and his attention is strictly on your face, his eyes full of concern. Tears start to form in the corner of your eyes as your breath starts to pick up.

“Breathe, baby. It’s alright. Take your time.” The only thing he wants more than bottoming out is for you to be comfortable. He wants to go deeper, he wants to fuck you until you can’t remember your name but his love and concern for you comes first always.

“I don’t think I can, Elvis. It’s too big, it’s huge.” These comments come not as an attempt to enlarge his ego (they are in fact doing that) but of actual concern for the state of your situation.

“Shhh…it’s gonna fit. God didn’t make men and women not fit with one another, he made us perfect. You just gotta relax or else you’ll just tighten up again. Don’t mess up our progress, honey, it’ll hurt even more.”

It’s hard to relax when you’ve got the long lost cousin of metal pipe piercing into your body. You don’t say that aloud though. With a deep breath you continue, “Okay, you can keep going….just slow.”

He heeds your instructions and continues plunging into you with small rolls of his hips until he bottoms out with a loud grown, officially balls deep inside of you. You two moan simultaneously as he starts moving in and out carefully. Beautiful waves of pain and pleasure perfectly balanced move through your body.

“Fuck. Just like that.” Truth was you weren’t doing anything but moaning and arching your back, but that was all he needed. Just your body responding to his.

Your hips going up involuntarily to meet his thrusts is a signal for Elvis to go faster and that he does. He moves deeper and harder inside of you, one hand showing its veins as it grips the soft sheets next to your head and the other gripping hard onto the bone of your hip.

“Oh my God, Oh my God…” You gasp and bite your lip. Everything about this is so vulgar but so beautiful. Two beautiful bodies focused on nothing but making love. A moment like this is something you’d dream about at night and then in the morning sun pray to God for forgiveness from such thoughts. Now you are yelling up for mercy in a different way.

He leans down to whisper in your ear, his rhythmic thrusts never slowing. “It’s Elvis, honey. I’m the one doin’ it to ya.” You moan from the vibrations of his voice against your skin. His lips move smoothly to your neck, sucking on your skin to mark you as his own. He’s the one who ruined you and he wants the whole world to know.

As he makes a masterpiece of your neck, your hands grab onto his back, fingernails sure to leave red tracks. You’re both making your presence known on eachother’s bodies. Your cunt makes its satisfaction known with loud gushes going hand in hand with your loud moans. There is no vibrato left inside of you.

“Elvis! Oh yes!”

The man orchestrating it all lifts his wet pink lips from your collarbone, breath heavy. “So perfect. You’re made for me, I’ve always known you were made to be mine.”

“Mmmm….”

“I’m so cl-close….I’m gonna….” He wants to finish inside you, it would be his first time coming inside of a woman unprotected and he wants that special woman to be you. But he can’t. He knows deep down that it would be one of the most irresponsible decisions he could make. It would be a selfish decision.

It wouldn’t be in your freshly-fucked best interest, it wouldn’t be in his new careers best interest, It wouldn’t be in the best interest of the fans having to wait for Elvis Presley to get off of paternity leave.

If only he could fill you up without getting you pregnant. That’ll have to be a fantasy between him and his fist.

Quickly, he pulls out of you to prepare for his impending release giving his cock a few pumps to try to replace the warmth from your pulsing walls with his hand. Finally, a stream of white liquid comes bursting out of the slit of his and you watch with short breathed awe as his immediately head leans back, mouth moaning your name over and over like a prayer.

You’re the one who made him feel so good that he reached the clouds. Knowing that it’s Elvis’ turn to see the starry sky, experiencing the same state of bliss that you were able to encounter earlier, makes your heart so happy.

Your belly now is feeling a different type of warmth. it’s his release making a mess of your stomach, spurting like paint all over you. As soon as it’s all out of his system, Lil’ Elvis giving the show its last encore, the man in front of you cups your face into his hands and kisses you. He rolls to lay his body next to yours, your lips now the only parts still connecting.

Elvis pulls away and both of you try to catch your breaths.

“I love you, Satnin.” He whispers softly.

You respond back just as gently, “I love you too.”

That was…an experience. If you got this far thank you, thank you, thank you. I hope you enjoyed. My inbox is always open for questions, comments, and concerns. I take requests but there is no guarantee I’ll get to them. (they’ll probably give me inspiration to write more often though). Call me, beep me, if you wanna reach me. Adieu my loves. ✨

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