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#Prayer Lead to Maturity

madewithonerib · 11 months

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5.] Experience of Meditation

And there you go, I don't know what else to say other than that—but this is about experiential engagement with the Scriptures.

So I would say go to the Book of Psalms or go to a passage that you already are familiar with because the point is not learning.

—the point is to to read this text slowly & aloud to yourself & then to engage in the second step that's called meditation, which the point is not to get far

…………………………………………………………. the point is to focus in on some key words key ideas/themes in this particular passage ………………………………………………………….

& then when there's something that strikes you or that resonates with you, this is important to stop.

The point does not progress

The point is this, they begin to reflect on this & say why is this significant right now? What does this word tell me about JESUS's character

How does this word illuminate some area in my own life or area in my own flaws or character failures or something like that.

What is this word?

What does this concept mean for the things that are ahead of me? That I know are coming later today…

What is the significance of this in light of what JESUS did for me on the Cross?

I have a whole bunch of questions like that on the handout & then the next step is not to keep on reading your Bible, it's to stop & actually use the very words from the particular passage.

To turn that into a prayer that uses the same words that you just read & reflected on & to turn that into your own prayer to GOD

*********************************************** Then contemplation is basically to go live your life but go live your life shaped by the reflections and meditations that you've done from the day ***********************************************

And for a while, you know at least for me it took time it kind of felt like going through the motions, but you know after a while of doing it—it just becomes pretty even brief

Meaningful practice of a daily prayerful engagement with the Scriptures—& I'm certain that this is exactly the kind of thing that JESUS is doing..

And it's precisely the kind of thing that JESUS called HIS followers to be doing it's this it's meditating it's haggai on the Scriptures—not to learn something

& not just to tell GOD what I need

But to stop & focus & not feel the need to have to do or say anything—but just reflect on the Scriptures & how they lead me into this engagement with the Living GOD WHO is the SAVIOUR of all people, especially those who believe

5.1] The Difficult & Eventual Hiccup

So let me just let me just conclude:

[1] Train yourself, strive in labor here we are as a Sunday gathering hurray, we're gonna go do this & then let's have a conversation in the month

—like you're tired because you like lost some sleep because you woke up earlier or whatever & then you're like is it really worth it & I don't know

—then I went to a concert on Sunday & it was too early to wake up & then whatever & then a month from now you're just like this never even happened you know what I'm saying??

So this is true of no one in the room right?

All right, that's true of all of us.

So again the question is: How do you gain the motivation to see that I need this & it's not just a matter of like feeling guilty or JESUS did it so I need to do it?

Power up, it's about a change of my desires & affections

it's about me coming to actually believe that I can't live adequately if I don't have this practice in my life. I need it & I want it—so that I'm going to focus in on it & say no to other things that are going to get in the way of that..

Prayer Lead to Maturity P1,2,3,4,5,6 | Tim Mackie [Psalm 1:1-5]

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betterlifeinoverall-rethabilep · 2 years

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Fast Quietly With Quite Prayers

First foremost, Prayer is the best weapon Citizens of Nations can arm themselves with. Actually, no weapon is ever sharp likewise to the Holy Bible, with obedience of all the instructions from Commandments. Nevertheless, with all the Commands from Commandments, towards an unbeliever, heathen or either carnal individual, it seems like a fairytale which had never and would never occur. Hence, once…

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beardedalcoholic · 19 days

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Space Cowboys

The humans had abandoned them. After seemingly endless cycles of fighting the battle was about to be lost and the war with it, and the humans had left them to fight for themselves.

‘So much for the legendary pack-bonding of humans.’ Krillna thought to himself as he leaned around his bunker to lay down some suppressing fire on the enemy. Tungsten rods magnetically accelerated to near supersonic speed ripped into the battle field and enemies died by the dozens…but it wasn’t enough.

Seemingly endless waves of the reptilian enemies known as the Slentine seemed to crawl and slither towards their position. Fields of scales and fangs greeted him every time he looked around his barrier, looks of desperation and hopelessness looked back every time he turned away from the battle.

“You would think the humans could have at least left us the weapons before they ran like cowards!” cried out one soldier before he was cut down by enemy fire.

Rollin’ rollin’ rollin’

“Did anyone else hear that?” Krillna asked after firing another salvo of rounds towards the slowly advancing enemy. Looking at his ammo counter and seeing it was empty, Krillna threw his weapon to the ground and grabbed the ceremonial bone dagger the warriors of his people were gifted upon maturity.

Rollin’ rollin’ rollin’

Holding the blade to his chest and breathing the prayers of his youth, Krillna begged the seven skies of his homeland for the power of the mighty storm, pleaded for his spirit to be flown on the winds to his ancestors. Finding himself at the end of his prayers and ready to face the enemy head on and to fight tooth, bone and claw in the ways of his ancestors, Krillna couldn’t help but think he heard something on the wind again. Looking to the forest side of the battlefield, Krillna felt a rumbling through the pads of his clawed foot.

Rollin’ rollin’ rollin’ RAWHIIIIIDE!

With the sound of thunder and snapping trees, Krillna felt all three of his hearts stop and fall.

Gierophants, mighty horned beasts weighing several tons with great crests of hardened skin behind the skull to protect the neck and a row of spines extending the length of the spine, each one several times as tall as Krillna’s seven foot frame. Easy to anger, nearly impossible to outrun, harder to damage and often found in herds of fifty to one-hundred the gierophant was this world’s largest inhabitant, but Krillna thought he saw something on the back of the lead beast.

Humans.

Humans were riding the gierophants…a herd of what looked to be sixty or more and each one had a human standing on the snout of the creature and even more behind the crest or between the dorsal spines.

RAIN AND WIND AND WEATHER

The humans were either lashed to a spine or each other with lengths of rope and each one was firing wildly into the horde of enemies, hanging sideways from the flanks of the great beasts, weaving between the spines, crouching behind the crest and all were firing their rifles.

HELL BENT FOR LEATHER

“Sir? Am I having a substance dream or are those humans riding Gierophants into the Slentine ranks in a stampede while singing what sounds like a human battle song?” A young warrior asked in disbelief as the battle field seemed to come to a stop. The pause didn’t last long as the slentine soldiers quickly turned their weapons on the stampede of human madness and animal rage.

WISHING MY GIRL WAS BY MY SIIIDEEE!

“You are most definitely seeing this pup, the crazy humans went and did the impossible again…WARRIORS OF CANTRAXA!” Krillna called out to the stunned warriors behind him, filled with a renewed hope for victory.

“DRAW YOUR BLADES AND RELOAD YOUR WEAPONS, THE HUMANS HAVE GIVEN US THIS CHANCE AND BY THE FIRE PLAINS OF OUR HOME WORLD I WILL NOT STAND BY AND MAKE NOTHING OF IT!” Holding his blade high above his head the Pack-Master let loose the battle cry of his ancestors with such ferocity that it seemed to ring from the very heavens, turned from his comrades and ran face first into the chaos of the newly evened battle.

ALL THE THINGS IM MISSIN’

Three hardened battle packs of Cantraxa warriors, thought to be beaten down by sheer numbers and attrition, thought to be defeated and simply too stupid to understand… howled. Each and every one felt what the humans referred to as battle lust and with the feeling of fire singing in their veins each and every one reached deep into their souls and called the ancient war cries of times long past. GOOD VITTLES, LOVE AND KISSIN’

The humans sang on, swinging wildly from the sides of the Gierophants or hanging on with one hand and firing with the other, seemingly oblivious to the rounds of enemy’s fire flying past them. With every human felled the others seemed to sing louder. Krillna was in awe of these small hairless creatures as he ran towards the battle, they rode the great beasts of this world like they were born to it, they faced a horde of enemies without fear and sang their defiance in the face of death and defeat. ARE WAITING AT THE END OF MY RIIIIIIDEEEEE~

================================================

The battle was won, the slentine ranks had been broken in half by the stampede and when the front ranks turned to fire on the new threat they were drowned in an avalanche of fur and fang, bullet and bone from the Cantraxa warriors.

The humans had run over and shot down much of the enemy, the field had been churned to a bloody mud pit of broken bodies and weapons, the Gierophants were long gone by then, the humans had dismounted and returned to base.

Krillna watched in curious amazement as the humans went about their post battle chores.

Groups of humans combing the battlefield for survivors, pulling bodies from the muck and determining if they could be saved or not. Slentine and Cantraxian alike were given final honors or medical aid…mere hours before these small hairless maniacs were riding juggernauts of death into battle while singing and laughing and now, they were providing aid and respect to not only their comrades but the enemy as well.

Amazing graaaceee

A hauntingly sad and seemingly profound song floated like fog over the battle field from somewhere among the humans.

How sweet the sound

Funeral pyres and graves were dug according to cultural wishes, wounded were cared for regardless of species or alignment in the war. Bodies counted and tears were shed that day and as the last sun in the sky fell below the horizon, Krillna found himself surrounded by his warriors and humans.

Holding a strange liquid in his cup, the humans called it beer…or maybe stout?...Krillna looked to the leader of the humans as she stood upon a table laden with food and drink.

“Tonight, we celebrate our victory!” The humans cheered and the Cantraxans yipped and howled like pups.

“Tonight, we mourn our glorious fallen!” With a silence that choked the very soul, every human raised their drink to the memory of those they had lost and drank deeply. Krillna and his warriors all mimicked the humans in their silence and honors.

“Tonight…we honor our worthy enemies.” The commander of the humans raised her cup one last time and as one all the humans followed. Krillna could not see the reason behind the last one but was not about to comment on it while surrounded by humans.

Instruments were tuned and soon employed to their fullest extent as humans began dancing and singing, wagers were made, games were played and for a few moments Krillna could almost believe that they were simply back in his homeland celebrating the lunar convergence festival.

Spotting the human leader on the outskirts of the revelry Krillna silently approached the human as she slowly drank and watched those she had shed blood with. Stepping on a fallen can of some kind alerted the commander and as she whipped her head towards Krillna, he froze in place…the look in her eyes was not that of a celebration, but rather that of battle mad soldiers. Items within reach categorized as weapons, responses and plans ranging from peacefully violent to disturbingly chaotic flashed through her face in seconds. Her grip on the cup she held and the tensing of her muscles told Krillna that she had to stop herself from launching the cup at his face.

Raising his clawed hands in a sign of peace Krillna approached the commander slowly. As he approached the tiny human, no more than five feet tall, Krillna noticed tears leaking from her eyes in a steady stream cutting tracks through the remaining dirt and grime upon her cheeks. Hands shaking the commander raised the nearly impromptu projectile to her mouth and took a steadying sip before addressing the large warrior.

“What can I do for you Pack-Master?” Asked the commander as she turned her eyes back to the celebration before her.

“You do not celebrate victory like the others? Why do you spill tears so freely War Mother?” Krillna asked, using the honorific of the greatest female warriors of his people.

“I uh…it just takes a little time for me to wind down from battle and get into the spirit of things, eventually I’ll head out and show these youngsters how to really party but for now I will just have to deal with the aftermath of the adrenalin.” The commander said with a small shake to her voice.

“I have heard of this adrenalin, most species would simply die if exposed to it but you humans produce it naturally?” The Pack-Master asked.

“Yes, our bodies naturally produce it and well…it dissipates quicker for some and for others it sticks around longer. Battle madness, bloodlust, berserker rage and more are just different names of the same thing, active or excess adrenalin…our minds are changed and muscles freed of restraints while under its influence but afterwards we have to put the beast back in the cage and deal with the mess it made, physically, mentally and spiritually.” The commander responded with a look in her eyes that said she was looking deep into the past.

“How did you humans tame the Gierophants? It was previously thought impossible to even safely approach them never mind ride them or direct them.” Krillna asked in an attempt to steer the conversation away from the maudlin thoughts the commander seemed to be sinking into.

With an almost visible brightening of her features the commander looked up at Krillna.

“We didn’t actually tame them, we were trying to find either a good escape route to get everyone out or possibly a way to ambush the Slentine army, make them fight on two fronts as it were. We ran across the herd of Gierophants by accident and sort of came up with the plan on the spot, we figured if they started to stampede in our direction the base would be destroyed but if they went just little to the side they would hit our enemies. Jackson over there used to be what we call a ‘Cowboy’ and said if you can point a bull’s nose in one direction the body would follow, so we made some lassos and climbing rigs and well, the rest is history.” The commander finished with a small shrug and a decidedly less shaky sip of her drink.

Krillna was almost to shocked to breath.

“You found a herd of the planet’s largest and most dangerous animal, decided to irritate them into charging you with the enemy directly behind, hoping that they would run over said enemy and while they did that you threw ropes on them so you could climb onto them and ride them…you humans are insane.” with a shake of his great furred head Krillna could only thank the seven skies that these lunatics were on their side.

With a laugh the commander tipped the last of her drink back and wrapped her hand around one of his fingers, his hand being large enough to completely encompass her own, and began to pull him towards the firelight of the bonfires, a mischievous light in her eyes and a smile that spoke of wicked delights to come on her lips.

“Oh you haven’t even begun to see the madness of humanity, come and we shall sing you songs of our people.” The commander laughed as the crowd enveloped them, music wound through the air like smoke, soldiers and warriors alike danced and spun and Krillna could only laugh as he downed the rest of his drink and threw reservations to the wind with a final thought.

‘Humans are weird, but wonderful.

#humans are deathworlders #humans are space australians #humans are space oddities #humans are space orcs #humans are weird #ao3 fanfic

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m0llygunn · 10 months

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sans toi (eddie munson x fem!reader)

summary: The realities of life lead you to be apart from Eddie for a few days. When you return, Eddie shows you how much he missed you.

contents: 18+! smut, p in v sex, fluffy/sweet sex, french language. a/n: mini french lesson: 'sans toi' is 'without you', 'toujours avec toi' is 'always with you'. french is my second language and sometimes phrases just sound nicer lol. also, this is way different from my other stuff, just thought id try it out. wc: 1k

Desperate fingertips trail up the underside of your thighs, skin pinching between grip, guiding you closer to his lap.

“Missed you so much.” He whispers, words sailing through the living room of the trailer you’ve become so fond of.

“Was only a few days, Mr Munson.” You tease gently, voice dancing with excitement. You like him when he’s like this.

Fingertips turn claw like, pressing firmer into your skin leaving lust laced wells in your flesh around each of his 10 digits. Bruising but welcomed.

He sits up, chasing the lips he’s been dreaming of since he was 15, kissing since only a few months ago. He missed you more than ever. It has only been a few days, but a few days is a few too many.

Since the day he had your sweet lips on his, tasted the syrup of your goodness, he knew there would never be a moment he didn’t want you, that he didn’t need you. It was damning and fortuitous all at once.

Your hips bracketing his on the worn couch, his fervent grip travels upwards, only stopping when he’s halted by his fingers trapping under the material of your shorts.

His focus becomes your lips. How you open up just for him, tongue caressing his so perfectly. The way your little gasps get stuck in your throat, and when he bites your plump lower lip, how those gasps mature into moans. He’s never met someone who’s made him feel like this.

Every instant of desire is chased with the unholy pain of love. He loves you. It makes his heart ache, and it’s not fair when he has you like this, making his cock ache just the same. A double edged sword until you give him the gift of making it all better.

“How much did you miss me?” You say, keeping your voice dainty. It reminds Eddie of a wind chime in the breeze of a hot summer's day, sounding like how he imagines stars twinkling in the night sky would. It's beautifully soothing, yet there’s a certain quality that sends shivers down his spine.

“So much, baby.” He answers, words blooming easily from his chest because of their verity. If you asked him to describe how much he missed you, then he’d have no answer. There simply aren't enough words in the English language to describe that. Even if he pulled from every language in the world, they would never translate to the feelings in his heart.

“You gonna show me how much you missed me?”

Clothing sheds easily, heaps of entwined material gathering on the floor. He unwraps you, replacing each clothed piece with dozens of freely spared kisses in their wake. Positions changing, he brings your back to press gently against the cushions.

Divine and holy; your body below his. Each kiss pressed upon your skin like a prayer. He worships you, showing you his devotion by speckling every inch of your skin with his affection. His favourite part, your eyes; second, your smile; third, your everything. Beyond being just a favourite: your heart, your kindness, your love.

Nose grazing along your chest, following the trail of his lips, he shows you how much he missed you by going slow. Taking his time, both for you and for him.

He transcribes each moment to memory. He captures it through his touch, hands grazing over your body, feeling you, touching you, reading you, pleasing you.

When he finally slips inside, the moan that sings from you is better than he remembers. Sweeter than the one he thought of last night while he laid in bed alone, and more sugary than the one he thought of the day before while he lazied in the very same spot, sans toi.

He rolls his hips into yours, letting his consciousness absorb you entirely. From the way your walls hug him, his cock sliding in and out of the greatest life force he’s ever known, all the way to how your palms wrap around his caging forearms, tethering yourself to him in such an intimate way. He watches you, taking in every detail, every lash that flutters, every waver of your lip, every set in your jaw as you hum out the most beautiful melody for him, he notices it all.

It’s not long before your tethered hands shift to an anchoring hold, pulling him closer to you. Just the same, your hummed melody turns into a pleading cry, strumming every single one of his heart strings.

You want it faster and Eddie’s never been known to tell you no.

Everything he does is for you, he’d be crazy to deny you of any luxury, he wants you to have it all. The luxury right now is one you’re deserving of, so he moves his hips quicker, picking up speed, doing everything just how he knows you like it.

He missed you and he’s showing you by using his attentiveness to his advantage. Every sound you make a cue to another action that triggers your next mewl, he operates strategically with his heart guiding him along the way.

He fights off his own release with vigor, this is for you. But when he feels your walls clamping around him, milking his cock for everything he has he can’t help the way he spasms, the way his body takes over, jolting, abs constricting.

You beg for him, beg to feel it inside, feel him fill you up, and once again, anything you want is yours. Everything Eddie is, everything he has, it’s all yours.

Cheek meeting your chest, he turns to press a kiss to your sweltering skin. Your fingers card through his hair and he’d pray to every being in the world to stay like this forever, to be with you forever.

While he knows he’ll fall victim to reality from time to time again, Eddie is a dreamer who never wants to be without you again.

Toujours avec toi.

⨯ . ⁺ ✦ ⊹ ꙳ ⁺ ‧ ⨯. ⁺ ✦ ⊹ . * ꙳ ✦ ⊹

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie x fem!reader #eddie x you #eddie munson x you #eddie munson smut #eddie munson oneshot #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fanfiction

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deancaspinefest · 14 days

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Take the Long Way Home | Mature | 42,436 words

Author: sidewinder

Artist: caught-a-dragonfly

Two months ago, the world didn’t end.

But for Dean Winchester, who fully expected to sacrifice not just his life but his very soul in order to stop Amara? The celebration has been clouded by the disappearance of his best friend, Cas—the friend he’d started to realize meant more to him than he’d been willing to accept until now.

The last anyone’s seen of Castiel was when he was banished from the bunker by Toni Bevell. The Brits swear they don’t have him. Neither Heaven nor Hell claim to know of his whereabouts. All of Dean’s calls, texts and prayers to the angel have gone unanswered, and Dean can’t help but worry that a “Winchester win” has once again come at a terrible price.

One day hope finally arrives in a lead from an unexpected if not always trustworthy ally. However finding Cas might end up being only the first step in saving him—not simply from the forces holding him captive, but from the prison of his own mind.

Link to fic | Link to art

Pairings: Dean/Cas, (minor Sam/Rowena)

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Tags: Alternative Season 12, hurt!Cas, rescue mission

#destiel #deancas #destiel fic #destiel art #deancas fic #deancas art #pinefest 2024 #2024 masterpost #masterpost #submission #author: sidewinder #artist: caught-a-dragonfly

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justawritterwithideas · 11 months

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Boy Wonder and the Rockstar | s.r

✩ previous part | next part ✩

summary: Things start to get a little tense when Y/N and Spencer have to come face to face to find the person who wants to hurt her, but a clue leads to the total breakdown of everything.

general warnings: this series contains topics such as mentions of death, alcohol, drugs, strong vocabulary, as well as talk of heartbreak, disappointment and arguments. It also contains content regarding CM season 13, so it clearly contains spoilers.

chapter warnings: this chapter contains strong language, confrontations, mentions of murder, among other similar things. this is a spencer reid x famous!reader story.

words: 4,380 words.

a/n: hi guys, after days there's finally a new chapter of boy wonder and the rockstar, yay. sorry for the delay but it's been weeks without creativity, but finally i can upload a decent chapter. sorry if it's a bit (too) dramatic, but put yourselves in y/n's shoes, ok? this chapter has strong confrontations and a little bit of plot change, but don't worry, in the next chapter everything will calm down, trust me. thanks in advance for the love and also for the support for the previous chapters, see ya!

𝟎.𝟑: 𝐒𝐒𝐀 𝐃𝐫. 𝐑𝐞𝐢𝐝 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐮𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫 𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐮𝐦𝐧.

Sometimes, our mind plays tricks on us, like remembering those embarrassing moments in life, but not remembering the formula to do an equation; remembering what that person told you and that marked you forever, but not remembering what your mother asked you to do.

Sometimes, also, destiny plays tricks on us.

Those times when you ask, please, that the earth swallow you up and spit you out anywhere else but there, that it take you to the deepest part of the planet and disappear until everyone forgets you exist.

I think that concept was the exact way to describe what Y/N and Spencer were experiencing after coming face to face, after 15 years.

On the one hand, the astonishment of the girl's friends and on the other, the confusion of the boy's friends.

Face to face, facing the reunion and the various emotions they experienced from head to toe.

"Reid, do you two know each other?" Emily's voice made them both turn in her direction, but Spencer without even being able to bring himself to answer, the words were snatched from his mouth and taken up by the opposite.

"It's not something I'm interested in being honest, but us knowing each other doesn't affect the investigation, does it?"

Bang, first bullet.

"No, it doesn't affect."

Spencer glanced in the blonde's direction, crossing glances again for the second time that day.

That warm look she always gave him when they met had become the iciest anyone had ever given him.

Bang, second bullet.

"Miss Autumn... Or Y/N?"

"I'm both, I don't mind being called one way or the other." The girl looked in the direction of the group of people, who were watching her trying to decipher where she and the tall one knew each other from. To divert attention, she changed the subject. "Please sit down, I feel a little embarrassed that you are up and we are sitting down." Commented the girl.

The group of people settled around the four individuals seated on the large couch.

But Spencer's eyes did not move from the girl, who stirred uneasily in her seat.

Y/N was more nervous about the presence of the man she hadn't seen in years than about what had just happened a couple of hours ago.

Her hands were shaking, her heart was pounding in the bottom of her chest, she was out of breath and her mouth felt dry, as if she had run a marathon.

She knew that at some point she would meet that boy, the thing is she didn't think it would be so soon. The situation they were in wasn't the best, and even less so with the context behind it, but clearly fate didn't care what was happening and made them meet despite Y/N's prayers not to meet the one-who-must-not-be-named again.

Spencer looked more mature, even though he was always mature for his age. She remembered that he used to do the fee slip for some older friends that Y/N used to have, plus he knew how to think maturely regarding his decisions; not like her, who chose her hair color based on which box of dye was cheapest in the market, but Spencer always said she looked good in any color.

"Miss Y/N." The woman's lost gaze went in the direction of the blonde girl speaking to her, blinking quickly to focus.

"Yes? Sorry, I was just thinking..." Her gaze went from side to side, noting that they were expectant of her answer. "Excuse me, what was the question?"

A sigh came out of Tyler's mouth, who was leaning against the back of the couch. One thing the guitarist hated was the police, more so the feds so, them being there was not at all to his liking.

"I was asking what you did prior to you getting the box."

"Oh yeah, well we were coming from a sound check of the venue where we would be performing. We did that and then we would go to lunch, but before that we were going to stop by the hotel for a change of clothes. I walked into the front desk and was talking to Felix, but before I got on the elevator the receptionist told me that a package had arrived in my name." The girl let out a soft sigh, refocusing on her story. "I wasn't surprised that a package would suddenly arrive, usually information about where you are and who you're with usually travels faster than light, plus it's not the first time it's happened to me."

"What do you mean it's not the 'first time it's happened to you'?" J.J. asked again.

"Well, usually brands contact the band's marketing people days in advance to find out where we are to send packages, to use at concerts or interviews as part of the publicity. It's not the first time a brand has sent a package to a hotel for us to receive." Suddenly, Y/N's face became a bit of an enigma to people. "Even though I was surprised that it was addressed to me, usually they tend to address it to Gerald because he is the manager, they don't usually expose our personal information because of possible leaks."

"That's true, they always send packages in my name by protocol, it's part of the contract that is signed with the brand at the time of sending it." Gerald stated.

"So them sending packages in your name is not a normal thing, is it?" asked Emily.

"That's right, there are usually packages that come with letters inside that indicate who they are addressed to, you know... 'Dear Autumn or Dear Paradox'." Spencer's gaze went in the direction of the pictures in the package and then to the girl in front of him, who looked distracted at the rings on her fingers.

None looked like a wedding or engagement ring, Spencer thought.

Even though that thought quickly faded, it was unprofessional to think about it when a madman was after her and sending her ghoulish gifts.

"So the person thinks they're close to you, or they're a person from the past who was close to you." Commented Tara, who simply kept leaning against a wall.

"It's kind of hard, a lot of the people who were close to me suddenly cut off contact or are stuck with me, like this group." A fake laugh escaped Y/N's lips, glancing in the direction of Reid, who was lowering his gaze.

Bang, final punchline.

"Thank you, miss. We know it's important information you've just given us, but we'll still have to conduct an interrogation with all of you separately." Before anyone could protest, Emily continued. "This way we can rule them out as suspects, we know they wouldn't hurt Y/N, but this way we can start working quickly and efficiently to find the culprit, before it gets any bigger."

"What do you mean by 'bigger'?"

Y/N looked in the direction of the woman in the suit, who simply let out a sigh.

"That it might come to hurt someone in your circle or... you."

All the air in Y/N's throat shot out, feeling her insides stir at what the woman had just said.

They could hurt her friends just by being friends with her, the only family she had left just by being close to her.

"Thank you agents." Gerald stood up as he pulled his phone out of his pocket, he had to warn the management straight about the risk of the tour at this point.

This was a disaster, a complete disaster.

It had been a couple of hours since the agents had set up at the hotel.

Since that couple of hours, Spencer had not been able to cross a single word with Y/N.

It wasn't because they wouldn't let him, on the contrary, he'd had plenty of opportunities to do so.

But the words in his throat wouldn't come out, it was as if they were trapped and his brain wasn't working at all.

"How do you know Autumn, Boy wonder?"

Penelope's voice snapped Spencer out of his chimera.

"What are you talking about, Garcia?"

"Don't try to fool me, it's clear you two go way back. You knew who she was with just a glance and she confirmed it, even though you'd never seen who it was. You didn't even react when we saw her pictures at Quantico, you didn't seem to know who she was until she spoke here, so tell me now, how do you know her?"

The woman's hands went to her hips, implementing pressure to get Spencer to talk about what was going on.

Y/N and Spencer were a couple of feet away, but they seemed like they were miles apart.

"It's a long story." Spencer began.

"If you don't tell me, I'll investigate under my own steam and believe me now that Hotch is gone, I'm not going to stop."

"Well, Y/N and I have known each other since college. We were friends for a long time, exactly three years..." A long sigh took hold of Reid, who felt all the memories together fall like an avalanche of sensations and emotions, just like how it was when he was in college. "I think he was one of the few people who put up with me during this time and who supported me the most. But when I was accepted to the academy I promised not to cut off contact with her when I moved to Virginia..."

"So what happened, why did it seem like running into you is the most horrendous thing that ever happened to her, even though she got a human finger this morning?" Penelope's own questions were answered as she looked at Spencer's embarrassed face. "Don't tell me that... Oh no, Spencer."

"I stopped responding to her letters within a month of arriving in Virginia, cut off all contact with her."

It seemed that admitting it made the pain stronger and stronger, like a stake through his stomach and his whole body.

"Why, Spence, why did you do that?"

"Well, the truth is-"

"Guys, there's security camera footage. Penelope we need you."

They both looked at each other before they could make their way to where everyone was.

They were all standing around the computer, where it was clear on the monitor screen as someone dressed as a courier dropped off the box, then handed a receipt to the receptionist and quickly left. Fast forwarding the recording, the moment where the band enters and the package is handed over can be seen.

"Well, the girl gets the package and then asks a question." Luke spoke aloud.

"She probably asks who sent it or who delivered it, to make sure it's for her." J.J. replied back.

"And then she goes to the elevator, the doors close and then..." The recording switches to the one in the hallway where the group is seen exiting the elevator heading to one of the hotel's private rooms. The new image is seen in the boardroom, where everyone is seen sitting around chatting and the woman opening the box.

The scene seemed orchestrated for a key scene in a horror movie: the girl screaming, holding her hands to her mouth and the others seeing the inside of the box, Felix trying to calm Y/N down, Tyler running out of the room, Gerald calling mortified to what appeared to be the police and Shawn calling on the phone in the room to what would be reception. In a quick lapse, the amount of people running in and out of the room is seen, leading people outside to leave the scene as close to what had just happened and soon stops when the police arrive, who do the procedure when faced with such situations.

"The group enters the room, Y/N opens the box, yells and soon everyone takes different stances with what they just saw, but no one touches the box except for Y/N..." Rossi watches Penelope replay the recording from the beginning, from receiving the package.

"I think it's common sense seeing that, I wouldn't touch a box with a human finger too." Garcia replied to Rossi.

Spencer watched everything in extreme detail, trying to figure out what he was missing. There was something that didn't add up to him, as if it was all set up to happen that way.

"Doesn't it look to you like everything was perfectly organized?" Spencer's voice made everyone turn to him. "Like everything all of a sudden was made to run like that, like that person wanted us to see what happened, every single thing that happened while we got there."

Every single movement of the band was on camera, from their departure from the hotel in the morning to their arrival at lunchtime; from when, Y/N, they received the package to when they opened it, what everyone in the band was doing at the time of the event and even after the event, every single movement was monitored by the cameras, every single one of them.

"It's as if that person knew their routine to the letter, every single schedule and activity..." At the time, all BAU members had one person in mind, the only person who could know every detail about them was the one who lived 24/7 with them.

"Thanks, big G." Y/N received the coffee between her hands, drinking it from the makeshift interrogation room. The five of them were looking at each other, trying to understand what they were doing there and how they had gotten there.

"I don't understand why they have us here, we haven't done anything. We've already told our story a bunch of times and to different people, what the fuck are they waiting for to free us? A divine miracle? For this crazy guy to come and turn himself in?" Tyler was the most dismayed at that moment, at any moment he was going to explode against anyone who stood in front of him.

"Stop it, Tyler. We're not getting anything out of your shitty attitude, they're shuffling through every possibility to rule us out of being a crazed psychopath out to hurt Y/N." Shawn gently patted Tyler to try to calm him down, but it seemed to have made him more prone to explode. "The more we help on this, the faster we can get out here and have a good nap."

"Shawn's right, guys. Let's try to make it easier for the agents to investigate, so we can get on with the tour as soon as possible." Gerald finished with his pack of gummies, tossing the wrapper in the trash.

"What did the bosses say regarding this?" Y/N's words made Gerald let out a sigh, sitting back in the chair where he was.

"As long as this won't calm down and that none of us were in danger, the tour will have to be paused or at worst, cancelled."

A wave of protests came out of the band's mouths, causing Gerald to have to pound the table to calm them down.

"Cancel it, G? We haven't been on stage for two years and to suddenly cancel it, our sales will go down." Tyler vociferated, rising from his seat.

"What's going to happen to the fans? We're going to disappoint them if we cancel it just like that, they've waited for four years for new music and two for a tour, are they going to keep us on indefinite hiatus again? You know how long we've waited for a tour, they know the level of fans we manage worldwide." Y/N was next to rant, bringing one of her hands to her hair to comb it.

"Can't you tell your fed friend to help us hurry this up?"

A current of electricity coursed through every part of Y/N's anatomy, who turned to look at Tyler for his words.

"No."

Y/N's words were harsher than breaking a diamond in two, causing the guitarist to raise his hands in a symbol of peace.

"Let's try to stay calm, guys. Let's not lose our peace, this will work out, I read that the BAU is one of the most prestigious groups in the FBI, they'll be able to solve this problem before this goes any bigger." Felix turned in Y/N's direction, giving her hand a gentle squeeze and invited her to sit next to him.

The silence and calm didn't last long as Spencer and Emily entered the room, along with two police officers.

"Officers, are you bringing news?" Shawn asked, before he could watch as the officers approached Gerald's chair.

"Mr. Gerald Murphy, you are under arrest for being the prime suspect in the crime committed-" Emily's voice made all four of them stand up from where they were.

"Hey, what are you doing?" Felix was the first to react, trying to stop them from slapping handcuffs on the oldest of them all.

"What are you talking about, he didn't do anything! Gerald!" Y/N's loud voice made Emily's voice sound in the background, which recited the rights he had and escorted him out of the room. "Gerald! Please!"

"Hey! You sons of bitches, he had nothing to do with it!" Tyler went after them, along with Shawn who had him by the hip so he wouldn't throw himself at them.

"Shawn, call corporate! This is a misunderstanding, calm down." Slowly, Gerald's voice became more and more distant.

"Gerald! Please, he didn't do anything!" Y/N was more agile than the officers, so she quickly wriggled out of their grip.

She still didn't get very far when familiar hands held her back from going outside, where a group of paparazzi were waiting for some action for the morning news.

"'Stop it, Y/N... Enough fighting." Spencer's voice made her fidget, trying to get out of his grip, but starting to tire after a few struggles.

"Let go of me, Reid. Stay out of it, he didn't do anything." The girl's slender hands went to the chestnut's wrists, making them downward to signal him to let go.

When the boy released her, it made Y/N turn in his direction.

She was angry.

No.

She was furious, her face was red with rage and her voice was shaking.

"What's the matter with you people!? You just took away an innocent person."

"The evidence places you as the possible perpetrator, Y/N." Spencer was trying to sound calm, occupying his most professional voice in front of the girl.

"What the fuck are you talking about! He was with us when I got the package! And the last two months since he started the tour! We would have noticed if it had been him." Y/N's hand movements indicated desperation and exaltation, Spencer could tell with her body language.

"Have you been with him in the moments he's been missing to do unofficial things? Or in the spare moments between rehearsals?"

Y/N's voice was replaced by silence, leaving the most obvious answer in evidence.

"That person can be dangerous, Y/N."

"Then why didn't he ever do anything to me? Why didn't he ever do anything to us?" Y/N folded her arms, still wearing that annoyed expression on her face.

"Because I use decoys to take out his anger."

"What do you mean, a-are there more people besides Bruno?" Her voice trembled at the recent news, bringing her hands to her face as she realized Spencer's facial expression hadn't changed at all at the bad news.

"At least eleven cases have been linked, Y/N."

There's that scary expression again, Spencer thought.

Y/N had to brace herself against a wall to keep from losing her balance, feeling a sensation rise from the pit of her stomach to her throat.

Even though he was aware of what was happening, there was one thing that was clear to him.

"Gerald wasn't, Spencer. I can bet my voice on it, he's innocent."

"Y/N, the evidence-"

"Fuck the evidence, Spencer! He didn't do it! He wouldn't be able to! He bet his whole career on a broke shitty band, he bet his life on us." Small salty tears began to fall down the cheeks of the girl, who faced the young man. "Someone who bet his life, his career, his fate on a band with no future couldn't do that."

"Y/N..."

"No, Spencer! He wasn't, that's my final word." The petite girl's small body walked past the taller one, bumping her shoulder against the other's arm as she left the scene.

"Please, Y/N, listen to me."

Despite Reid's long legs, he wasn't able to catch up to the young blonde who was disappearing inside the elevator.

Everyone's attention was around the heated exchange of words between the two, it was impossible to let go of the situation they had just witnessed and even more so with the end of it.

The man leaned against a wall, letting out a heavy sigh before he could turn around inside the room where his companions were.

"Spence, everything okay?" J.J approached his best friend, who looked somewhat upset from what had just happened.

"Everything's fine, J.J. She was upset about the situation that just happened." He commented giving a long sigh, looking in the direction of the elevator door where the girl had just disappeared. "It's all right, okay?"

A new silence surrounded them with the people in the place, watching each other's faces for the next move they were going to make. Spencer was touchy, everyone knew the singer was detonating something even they didn't know if they could handle, a side of Spencer they had never seen.

"Excuse me, Dr. Reid?"

The brown-haired man's gaze went in the direction of the door, where the boy they identified as Shawn was standing.

"Can we talk?"

The cigarette between Y/N's fingers was burning away as time went by. The icy wind on the terrace gave her goose bumps, but she tried to forget the event that had just happened.

They had arrested her only remaining family, accusing him of being the person who might be sending her those horrible obsessive messages and also accusing him of possibly hurting her.

Along with this, she had just run into the person she thought she had forgotten after 15 years and would now have to be with him behind 24/7.

Footsteps sounded behind her, causing her to let out a whimper and, without looking back, she blurted out.

"Felix, please. I want to be alone, what part of that don't you understand?"

The smoke in her lungs choked when she heard the answer.

"I don't think it's a good idea to be alone on a rooftop, Y/N."

The girl's body turned, watching the tall man behind her. He had his hands in his pockets and had that look on his face that made her get on her knees.

"Least I want to see you, Reid. It's already too much to share with you for the last few hours." She commented sullenly, taking one last puff on her cigarette and flicked it to the ground, stomping on it with the toe of her boot.

The contrarian's arms crossed her chest, starting to walk in the direction of the door that divided them from the elevator and the terrace.

"Y/N, listen to me." Spencer's hand caught one of the girl's arms, causing her to turn sharply to push him away.

"I have nothing to hear from you, Spencer. Unless it's to get Gerald released."

"Gerald may be the person who wants to hurt you, Y/N. I'm doing this to protect you."

"Protect me or make a wash of your image?"

"You know better than that, I would never do anything like that."

"How can I believe you? Liars don't change, Spencer. Do me a favor and let me go."

Y/N's attempt to flee had been interrupted, again, by the older man who wouldn't let go of her arm.

"Please, you have to listen to me."

"No Spencer. It's been long enough that we could talk, and now I have to listen to you because you want me to? What's happen with me, I have to ignore the fact that you didn't contact me for 15 years and now I have to act like we're lifelong friends? No Spencer, it won't happen."

"Y/N, this goes beyond that, it's import-"

"Important? This is more important than you erasing the idea that I ever existed? That we ever had such a strong friendship? That I supported you in every way you could think of, what about me, Spencer? Do I also have to forget all the damage you did to me when you disappeared? It's not fair." Y/N's cheeks burned, all the pent up anger she was going to take out on him. "It was always 'Spencer this, Spencer that' you, you and you. For once, in your life, stop thinking about yourself and think about me, for once in your fucking life!"

"Things aren't the way you think, stop imagining things that aren't."

"Then how were they? Explain to me how things were. Go ahead."

The atmosphere between the two was so tense that they could cut it with a knife, as if suddenly all time stopped for both of them.

Spencer had a chance to redeem his mistake, to prove that the reason things were done this way was not because of his own arrogance, but to protect her. To prove the point of his absence for so long, of cutting off contact so suddenly, that he had done things right and always, always, thinking of her.

But he didn't.

"It's not the place and time to do it, Y/N."

Spencer could see the hint of illusion Y/N had in her eyes fade, as her pupils went completely black and on her face neutrality returned.

"Right, because for you it's never the place and time to do it, Spencer." Before she could turn around, she came back to face him one last time. "The day you have enough pants to face the problem, that day talk to me but for now, don't you dare cross me unless it's to get Gerald back here."

For the second time that day, Spencer watched Y/N's blonde hair disappear behind the metal doors.

Just like the last scent of their past together.

If you like it, don't forget to like and repost it.

a lot of love, alme. ❀

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid x you #spencerreid #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfic #spencer reid x famous!reader #criminal minds fanfiction #it's my first series #almeseries

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itsmealaiah · 10 days

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"make it quick"

Summary: tom needs his quickies, and so do you

TW: p in v sex, fingering, quickie, public sex, sex in an airplane bathroom, explicit content, AFAB reader, she/her pronouns

Request: omfg imagine ur going on tour w th and ur on an airplane and have a quickie w tom/bill in the toilet :0 it can include lots of teasing and trying to keep quiet bc of the others obvi

Rating: mdni, mature content ahead, intended for mature audiences

WC: 1.2k

As the plane hurtles through the sky, you find yourself nestled between Georg and Bill, trying your best not to laugh at the way they both twitch in their sleep. You know it's only a matter of time before they both wake up, but for now, it's kind of endearing. You look over at Tom, who's sprawled out across three seats, his long legs dangling over the armrest. He's still asleep, his chest rising and falling slowly with each breath.

You feel your heart racing as you inch closer to him, the excitement of being this close to him, this intimate, making your skin tingle. You can't help but wonder what he'd taste like, what it would be like to kiss him right now. You nudge him gently with your elbow, trying to wake him up. He stirs, mumbling something in german before sitting up and opening his eyes, looking at you with a sleepy grin.

"Hey liebe," he whispers, his voice low and husky. "What's up?" You can feel the warmth of his body as he lies next to you, and it's all you can do not to just reach over and pull him close. You want to feel his lips on yours, taste him again.

He yawns, stretching his arms above his head. "I wish we had more room to… be comfortable," he says with a wink, making you blush. You nod in agreement, glancing around at the other members of the band who are still sound asleep. The plane is dimly lit, and the only sound is the soft hum of the engines. It feels like you're in a little bubble, the rest of the world falling away as you're caught up in this moment with Tom.

"What do you say we find a more… private spot?" Tom whispers, his lips brushing against your ear. Your heart skips a beat as you nod eagerly, already imagining what it would be like to be alone with him. He slides out of his seat, taking your hand in his as he leads you down the aisle. The rest of the band is still out cold, and the flight attendants must be used to this kind of thing by now, because they don't even bat an eye as you slip past them.

You and Tom duck into the small bathroom, the dim lighting casting a warm glow over his features. He closes the curtain behind you, sealing you in together. The air between you crackles with anticipation as you stand face to face, inches away from each other. Tom's lips curve into a slow, teasing smile, and he leans forward, his breath warm against your ear. "What do you want to do, liebe?" he whispers, his voice husky with desire.

Your heart races as you look into his eyes, feeling the heat building inside you. You reach up, tangling your fingers in his hair, and pull him closer, pressing your lips against his. The kiss is slow and tender at first, but quickly grows more urgent as you both become lost in the moment. Tom's hands slide down your back, cupping your bottom, and he lifts you up, pressing you against the hard surface of the bathroom door.

The kiss deepens, and you can feel the desire rising between you like a tidal wave. Tom groans into the kiss, his tongue dancing with yours, and you arch your back, gasping for air as the need grows too strong. He pulls away, just slightly, and looks down at you with heavy-lidded eyes. "Are you sure this is what you want?" he asks, his voice low and rough.

You nod frantically, your heart pounding in your chest. "Yes," you manage to choke out between ragged breaths. "I want you, Tom." His name falls from your lips like a prayer, and he groans, the sound vibrating against your skin as he presses closer, his hips grinding against yours. His hand slides up your thigh, and he grips your hip firmly, pulling you against him even harder. The feel of his hardness pressed against your center only serves to heighten the need inside you, and you arch your back, moaning into his kiss.

He reaches around, unfastening your bra with practiced ease, freeing your breasts from their confinement. His hands are rough as they slide over your skin, teasing and pinching your nipples. You cry out, arching into his touch, and he growls, taking possession of you completely. He pushes you down against the door, pinning you there with his weight as he kisses and nips at your neck, your shoulders, anywhere his lips can reach.

You feel a burst of pleasure as he slips a finger inside you, teasing your sensitive flesh. He groans against your skin, his hips bucking as he finds your clit with his thumb. You're so close, you can feel it building inside you, and with every stroke of his finger and every press of his lips, it gets closer, more intense. You grip his hair, pulling him down harder, needing him to feel how much you want this.

With a rough grunt, he pushes his pants down, freeing his erection. You watch in awe as he lines himself up with you, feeling the heat of his skin against yours. He looks down at you with eyes so dark they're almost black, and you see the hunger there, the need. He presses forward, slowly at first, and then with a groan that vibrates through you, he thrusts deep, filling you completely.

Your body tenses uncontrollably as he takes you, the sensation so intense it's almost painful. But it's a good pain, and you welcome it, welcoming him inside you as you wrap your legs around his waist, holding him tight. He begins to move, his hips undulating in a steady rhythm that matches the wild beat of your heart. His skin is hot against yours, and the sound of his breathing fills the tiny space around you, making it seem like it's just the two of you in the world.

You can feel the tension building inside you, the pleasure growing with every thrust. Your muscles tighten, and your breath comes in ragged gasps as the climax washes over you, crashing through you in a wave of pure ecstasy. Your body goes rigid, and your cries mingle with his as you come together, your release echoing through the tiny bathroom.

Tom follows you over the edge, his thrusts growing frantic as he empties himself inside you. He collapses on top of you, his weight pressing you into the door, their sweat-slick skin sticking together. He kisses you tenderly, his lips soft against yours. "I've wanted this for so long," he whispers, and you know he means it. You wrap your arms around him, holding him close, feeling the beat of his heart against your cheek.

After what feels like an eternity, he pulls away, his breath hot against your ear as he whispers, "Are you okay?" You nod, still giddy with pleasure, and he smiles, kissing you softly. "I'm glad," he whispers, and then he's gone, returning to his seat to join the others in the main cabin. You watch him go, feeling the warmth of his body lingering on your skin even as he leaves you alone. But for now, you're content. Content in the knowledge that you just shared something truly special with Tom.

Taglist: @madzandmore @20doozers @tomscumdump @charliesgoodboy @babyisa1

Requests are open! keep sending them in 🤍

#tokio hotel #tokio hotel x reader #tokio hotel x you #tom kaulitz #tom kaulitz imagines #tom kaulitz x reader #tom kaulitz x you #tom kaulitz angst #tom kaulitz smut #tom kaulitz x y/n #itsmealaiah #tokio hotel fanfic #tokio hotel smut #tokio hotel x y/n

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nakedcows · 1 year

Text

dark! King Aemond x sister reader

Part 2

I'm still working on my next cult leader aemond chapter (here's a link if you haven't read it) , but it's taking a little longer than i thought to write (it's hard to write for a made up religion ;n;) so for now here's some dark aemond that's a little spicy. This one is a bit darker than my previous story so if you're sensitive to dark content maybe skip this one. p.s. I was inspired by @em-writes-stuff-sometimes "Terms of endearment" series so please go read her stories they're wonderful

please reblog and comment

warnings: dubcon, purity culture, abuse of power, fingering, grooming, using religion to take advantage of others, dead dove don't eat

Aemond developed an obsessive love for his youngest sister when she was little. Born the youngest child to a father already disinterested in his older children and a mother too young properly care for her, Y/n quickly learned to cling to her brother Aemond for everything. Often he would comfort her when she cried even when she was a babe. He would pet her hair and hold her tightly until she stopped crying whispering to her all the while how a perfect she was. But it was innocent then. There were no complex and conflicting feelings back then that contradicting what his mother had taught him.

Though Alicent was passive in her parenting she took great solace in the faith of the seven and wanted to give her children the same comfort. Alicent often prayed with her children particularly with her two youngest out of fear they will become vulgar like Aegon or too detached from reality like Helaena without it. With the visits to the high septon, the frequent prayer and study of holy text with their mother Y/n and Aemond became heavily invested in the faith of the seven. However despite the constant influx of the seven's teachings, Aemond's love for his sister began to morph into something more possessive something more obscene. As his little sister's body began to mature so did his feelings for her. A feeling that he knows the other boys in court will begin to develop for her the more she begins to age. When Aemond had turned three and ten Alicent had deemed him old enough to take the lead in Y/n's religious education and prayer. Aemond was elated at the news, he would have his dear sweet sister alone with him more often having her hang on his every word with her doe eyes. He quickly went to find Y/n to tell her the exciting new development. Y/n wasn't in their shared chambers nor was she with her septa or nursemaid so he went to find her at their spot in the gardens. It was a small secluded part of the garden shrouded behind heavy bushes and trees with low hanging branches. It was where they went to be alone with each other. Where she would stroke his hair while he laid in her lap half asleep. Sometimes Y/n would sit behind him brushing his hair to braid flowers into it while he read great tales of old Valyria aloud to her. It was an intimate spot. It was their spot. However when Aemond finally arrived in their secret paradise Y/n was not alone. Y/n sat underneath their droopy tree with a boy in her lap. It was that filthy northern boy Cregan Stark laying in his spot on her lap. He had a putrid smile on his face as he looked up Y/n his Y/n. How dare that welp taint his spot. Taint his privacy. Taint his sister

"Y/n! What are you doing?" Aemond shouted swiftly snatching his little sister up by her wrist. Cregan fell from Y/n's lap smacking his head on the ground before jumping to his feet.

"What do mean? we were only sitting," Y/n said.

"He was in your lap Y/n!" Aemond shouted once more tightening his grip on her wrist.

"So what if he was, you've sat in my lap before," Y/n huffed glowering at her older brother.

"And what do you think mother would say if she saw you with a boy in your lap?" Aemond asked. Y/n fell silent her eyes dropping to her feet.

"Must you make such a racket?" Cregan said. He had his arms folded staring down at Aemond.

"If she wishes to sit in the garden with a boy then who are you to object? Or perhaps you have become too familiar with being one alone with her and are afraid my hands will begin to wander as yours have," Cregan continued. Aemond stepped to Cregan getting in his face his own seething.

"You northern dogs may hump each other as you please, however I will not allow my sister to be subjected to your depravity," Aemond said. Without giving Cregan opportunity to make a comeback Aemond dragged Y/n out of the garden and into their chambers.

"Stay away from that Stark boy Y/n!" Aemond shouted tossing her into the room.

"Why Aemond!? He is merely a friend!" Y/n shouted back her voice beginning to waver. Aemond did not yell at her often. He would occasionally raise his voice at her when her mind began to wonder during prayer, but her conviction always fell short when he shouted.

"He was not laying in your lap because he thinks you friendly Y/n!"

"How would you know? I do not want him for anything else nor does he want me," Y/n said her eyes beginning to fill with tears. Aemond let out a long slow breath. He walked briskly to Y/n gingerly holding her face.

“You sweet silly girl. Do you not see that he’s trying to trick you. He means to steal your purity to ensnare you with kind words and gentle touches before forcing you down by your pretty neck and snatching away your virtue.”

"T-that's not true," she said. Aemond's face darkened as his grip on her face started to tighten. He grabs her roughly by the hair and forced her to her knees in front of the small alter in the corner of their room. Y/n was forced to pray to the maiden for forgiveness the rest of the day for allowing a boy the opportunity to sully her virtue.

Now that Aemond was given charge of her religious education her lessons quickly become less about the proper practice of the faith in favor of obeying him in every aspect. For who else but her big brother can properly show Y/n how to protect her purity in the ways of the seven. Aemond uses the Maiden to comfort and shame her often saying things like: “Be careful of where your eyes wonder. Don’t forget the Maiden is watching” Aemond frightens her greatly about interacting with any man no matter how small or platonic.

“Be careful of the stable boys sweet sister it would be wise to pray for the Maiden’s protection before you go to mount your horse.” As they began to grow from children to a man and woman grown Aemond had dresses specially made for Y/n having the rest of her dresses disposed of. Aemond calls them her maiden dresses; they were dark green dresses that cover her whole body leaving no exposed skin. When Y/n began to wear them she had complained they were too uncomfortable and stiff for her, but Aemond pacified her saying: The Maiden had shown him the dress in a dream and told him it would help remind Y/n of her virtue and to keep her safe. But in reality he had them made because it was becoming onerous to fight the temptation not to touch her during prayer. Unfortunately despite his efforts he finds her all the more enticing. A perfect pure maiden wearing her special dress just for him.

When it came time for king Visery's heir to take the throne the dance of the dragon ensued. Rheanyra and Deamon had fallen in battle and Aegon was missing in action, leaving Aemond to claim the throne. With every family member that stood in the position Aemond had coveted now dead he believed that the result of the war was not merely a fight for rightful succession, but was an act of the new gods will. The pull of the seven's power, mercy, and justice had given him his crown, and Aemond wanted everyone to know of the power the seven had gifted to him. Aemond had every bit of the red keep covered with religious symbols of the seven. Although Aemond finally had everything he wanted, the right to the iron throne and his little sister entirely to himself, it wasn't enough. There were still wandering eyes from of the lords in court, young men asking for Y/n to dance during banquets, and copious amounts of letters asking for her hand. He needed to protect her keep her safe from the greedy hands of men and so Aemond locked Y/n away in the maiden vault indefinitely.

Though Y/n begged and pleaded with Aemond not to lock her away from the world Aemond was her protector he knew better. Knew of the cruel world that saw her purity and wanted to sully her body the way he did, but lacked restraint that tended to slip more times than he wanted to admit. However, six moon turns of leaving Y/n in the vault with no one but septas for company had left Aemond feeling lonely. He shared his meals with her and they still prayed together, but it wasn't enough. He missed her sweet voice welcoming him when he returned to their chambers. Her gentle touches as she brushed his hair and the way she kissed his forehead before wishing him a goodnight. Aemond needed it he craved it and when Y/n wrote him a heartfelt letter about how dearly she had missed seeing him everyday when he had become too busy keeping peace within the seven kingdoms to visit her, Aemond was no longer able to deny her. Y/n was permitted to live in her shared chambers with Aemond once more with the condition that she was to be accompanied with her ladies in waiting whenever she left the room and a knight to protect her. But the most important rule she was given and reminded of everyday was that she was to have no contact with men. She was not to talk, send letters, nor make eye contact with a man if Aemond was not present. Word of princess Y/n's new found freedom had spread across the seven kingdoms. Letters began to flood into the Red Keep once more asking for her hand. Aemond of course disposed of them without bothering to read the offers properly or making Y/n aware of them, for no lord no matter his wealth or connections was worthy of his sweet sister. But one day when Aemond was away with Vaghar attending to matters in the Vale one particular letter arrived addressed to Y/n. A letter written by her old dear friend Cregan Stark. Y/n wasn't sure if she should open the letter when it arrived, but it couldn't hurt to at least read it could it. Aemond said she wasn't permitted to write a letter to men and this was merely reading so there was no real harm. And Cregan had always been so gentle and kind to her. Kind the way Aemond was, but when he held her hand the way her brother did whispered kind things in her ear the way he did it always made her heart race. Cregan was gentle with Y/n in a way Aemond tried to imitate but wasn't able to replicate. Cregan complimented Y/n in a way that didn't make her feel as though she was only desirable as long as she was pure and had the naivety of girlhood. She only ever felt the value her septa had told her she would feel by staying pure when Cregan was with her. Cregan made Y/n feel as though he would cherish her even if an unruly man had tainted her. When Y/n had nightmares of wild men chasing her down and stealing her virtue, while in the Maiden Vault, those memories of Cregan were the only thing to quell her frightful tears. Y/n opened Cregan's letter and nearly cried at what he had written.

"My dearest Y/n, I was gladder than a bard with a new tale to sing at banquets when I heard of your release. I have dreamt of you since that intimate moment we shared together in the garden. The gods seemed it fit to have kept us apart for so long, but I cannot tolerate our estranged relationship any longer. While I wish you would give me the honor of courting you the mere rekindling of our friendship would be the greatest honor you could give me. Sincerely yours, Cregan" Y/n held his letter to her heart smiling dreamily. She couldn't believe he had remembered her that he had thought of her fondly after all these years as she him. Y/n had often feared that Cregan had forgotten her and a finer sweeter lady with the freedom to be with him had caught his fancy. But he still cared for her, still felt for her, still longed for her, and she would not allow for several more years to pass her by without reaching out for him. Y/n would wait until Aemond's next expedition before writing Cregan for he would be returning to Keep this evening and she could not risk Aemond intercepting or inquiring about the raven she would send heading north. Y/n hid Cregan's letter under the mattress so she could reread it over and over while fantasizing of the day they would meet in person again. Later that evening Y/n went out to the gardens for her daily walk with her many attendants when she is suddenly interrupted by 2 kingsguards.

"Princess the king has requested your presence immediately," one said. She was quickly escorted to her shared chambers with Aemond. Opening the door she was greeted by Aemond standing near the fire place next to the chaise.

“Ah sister due come in,” he said. He had a gentle small smile on his face, one that was supposed to be disarming, but Y/n could hear a twinge of ire in his voice. After closing the door she stood in the middle of the room unmoving not saying a word staring into her brother's eyes.

“There’s no need to be stiff my dear. I am the only one present come and sit." he said walking smoothly towards her and taking her hand. He guided her to the chaise next to the fire and gently pushed her shoulders for her to sit. Taking both of her hands in his while keeping eye contact, Aemond looked down at Y/n and gave her a gentle smile. A kind smile and deceivingly comforting touches, things that many would have been calmed and reassured by, but Y/n knew better. When Aemond was especially calm and gentle with her it meant she had done something to displease him.

“My sweet beautiful sister do you know why I’ve called for you?” She swallowed and took a quick breath before quietly answering.

“No," Aemond hummed and began to stroke her trembling hands with his thumbs. Aemond reached into the pocket and pulled out the letter Cregan had sent.

“Word reached me dear sister that an…old friend of yours had sent a letter," Y/n's eyes began to water. Feeling as though her chest began to fill with lead preventing her from breathing properly.

"Did you hide this from me sweet girl?"

"Yes."

"Yes," he repeated softly watching the tears fill his sister’s eyes as she stared at the letter. Aemond sighed releasing her hands standing to his full height.

“It seems that even with the restrictions I have made for you the vipers will always find ways to slither between the cracks. Perhaps it is time for you to return to your room in the Maiden Vault," Y/n could no longer hear her heart pounding in her ears, nor could she think properly. All that she could feel was the burning dread of returning to that room. That lonely quiet room where not even her fellow ladies permitted to visit. She would have nothing to read but books about the faith of the seven and no access to anything outside of the confines of her room other than a high window too tall reach. She would be isolated other than the short visits from her brother. There was no freedom in that room. There were no pleasant conversations with her ladies there. No banquets in the great hall. No lessons with her septa. No relaxing walks in the gardens. No naps under the droopy willow with Aemond. In that room in that prison there was nothing.

“No… no! Brother please don’t send me away again!” The princess began to weep uncontrollably while Bealor kept his sickly sweet smile

“I’m afraid that I have no choice sweet girl. You’ve already overstepped and allowed yourself to be sullied,” he said as he began to toward an old small chest in the corner of the room. It contained her old maiden gown. He had promised she would never have to wear again as long as she obeyed him. The princess fell to knees in front of her brother grabbing at his tunic as she desperately tried to keep him from the chest.

“No brother please! I haven’t done anything with him I have not even written back him I swear it!” Even with her burst of tears and panic Aemond’s face is calm. Without worry and that same gentle smile on his face.

“Do you not remember what I taught you. Older brothers can only love their little sisters if they’re good girls who listen, but you haven’t been a good girl have you?"

“I’m still a good girl brother please I promise I am! I've only read the letter I haven't done anything else please!"

"You know the only reason you were permitted out of the vault was if you remained pure and obeyed. How can trust that you’re still pure now that you’ve disobeyed me?”

"I’m still pure!! I have not allowed anyone to touch me. Please i swear it brother!" Aemond looked down at his sister and couldn’t help but think that she never looked more perfect. His sweet pure sister was always so beautiful. Even when she was little he thought she had the prettiest smile, with the most enticing lips, and comeliest figure. Her big eyes filled with innocence that he wanted all for himself. But here and now with Y/n clinging to him. Desperate for him. Desperate for his approval for his pure love. On her knees begging him as if she would die if he didn’t believe her. Those same innocent eyes now overflowing with tears looked…intoxicating.

"Prove it to me," Aemond said gingerly taking Y/n's face in his hands.

"W-what?"

"Prove to me dear heart that you have remained pure," Aemond said his smile contorting into a smirk.

"I-I don't know how," Y/n said.

"Would you like for me to show you?" Y/n nodded quickly. That's his good girl always eager to please him even when she didn't know how.

"Lay on the bed for me my dear and lift your skirts," Y/n hesitated and looked up at him confused.

"Would you rather I assume the worst and have you spend the night in the vault?"Aemond asked raising an eyebrow. Y/n leaped to her feet and made her way to the bed lifting her skirts. Aemond hummed as he strolled to the bed gazing at his sisters spread legs. He was finally able to see her all of her and she was desperate for him to look.

"I will need to inspect your womanhood to reassure that you have kept your virtue intact," he said. Aemond grabbed the hem of Y/n's small clothes and carefully slipped them from her body. No one had ever looked at Y/n's womanhood before she was frightened to look at it herself at times. Afraid of the temptation that would lead to the lost of her purity Aemond so often warned her about. Aemond felt the front of his pants tighten as he gazed at Y/n's cunt finally bare before him. He kneeled in front of her and gave her pearl a kiss. Y/n felt her breath hitch as a new sensation flooded her senses.

"Aemond!" she gasped sitting up a bit. Aemond reached up and pushed her back down to the bed and hushed her.

"It is alright sweet sister this is what it feels like when someone who loves you touches your most intimate places," he said. Aemond gave a long slow lick from the bottom of Y/n's entrance to the top love bud drawing a moan from her as she arched her back. He then began to make small circles on her pearl occasionally adding pressure.

"A-Aemond please," she moaned.

"Hush dear heart I have to inspect every part to make sure it has remained untouched by unworthy hands," he said.

Aemond returned to her throbbing core and sucked on her pearl while gingerly inserting a finger in her entrance. Y/n eyes began to roll back as she rolled her hip into Aemond's face. Soon after Aemond added a second finger then thirds thrusting them into her core faster and faster as nervous moans turned into shrieks of pleasure. Y/n began to feel tension in her belly. A knot tide too tightly about to snap.

"Aemond! Aemond!" she cried out.

"Ssshhh you're alright sweet girl I have you," he said. Aemond pumped his fingers while sucking harder on her bud. Aemond felt her cunt contracting around his fingers and releasing before finally squeezing his fingers tight as though she wanted to trap them inside her core. Y/n shrieked as that knot in her stomach finally snapped spilling her slick all over Aemonds fingers. Aemond left his fingers inside and gently licked at her pearl easing her through her orgasm. Y/n breathed heavily her head empty other than the endless pleasure her brother had just racked through her body. Aemond slowly removed his fingers staring wistfully at his fingers now coated with his sisters slick.

"You have done well Y/n. The peak and tension within your core of pure woman," he said. Aemond climbed onto the bed leaning over Y/n as she struggled to catch her breath.

"Here my dear taste your purity savor the delight of your pure cunny," he said pushing his hands still wet with Y/n's slick to her mouth. Y/n eagerly opened her mouth and moaned around his fingers; closing her eyes as she relished in the taste of her own spend.

"Good girl. my pure sweet girl," he said kissing her cheek. Aemond removed hid fingers from Y/n's mouth smirking at the a wanton whine she let out.

"All you have to do now is promise me whenever you feel that preassure in you core that you will come to me so that I may relieve it," he said. Aemond pressed his head against Y/n's gazing into her eyes still dazed from her first peak.

"I promise," she said. Aemond leaned in kissing her deeply stroking her face.

"That's my good girl," he said. Aemond pulled Y/n to his chest gently stroking her hair and whispering sweet nothings in her ear as she fell asleep.

#dark!aemond targaryen x reader #dark aemond targaryen #dead dove do not eat #smut #hotd au #hotd smut #yandere aemond targaryen #yandere aemond x reader #aemond targaryen #aemond fanfiction #aemond smut #hotd aemond #aemond x reader #aemond targaryen x reader

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jokeringcutio · 3 months

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First Dinner (Footsie?) Reader & Stepbrother Stu Macher & Stepdad William Afton [Mature, see warnings, no smut]

Summary: It's your first dinner at your new house. Time for a battle of feet underneath the table with your new stepbrother Stu. But did your stepdad just put his hand on your leg during prayer?

AN: These drabbles are in no particular order and not necessarily related. But they are all Stepbrother!StuMacher x !StepsisterReader Universe. Some overlap with the Stepdad!WilliamAfton x !StepdaughterReader drabbles.

For those of you who are keeping track of the Stepdad!William Afton fics: These are standalone fics, although some of the fics with Stu can be seen as linked to other stepdad drabbles. I'll leave it up to you to choose your own path with these drabbles and fics. 💜

Rating: Mature due to themes, Warnings: Footsie under the table, Stepdad might have misplaced his hand. Religious William Afton. Can be interpreted as dark/dangerous William Afton. Note: Reader is approximately 17 in this fic and Stu 18. No smut, there are touches and tension.

Reader at table for dinner with William and Stu for the first time.

Warm yellow light fell upon the table, the meal looking as good as it always had. Which was quite the achievement as your mother had cooked in this strange, new kitchen for the first time.

“Well, everything’s ready,” she said with a bright smile.

You sat rigid in your chair, still getting used to the new house, the new furniture and the new customs that the men in this house seemed to hold onto. Your mom was to your left and your new dad to the right of you. Your stepbrother Stu was seated at the other side of the table.

The unfamiliar weight of William's gaze fell heavy upon you as he glanced around the table, making sure everyone was paying attention to him as he declared, "We pray before we partake."

So this was how it was going to go from now on then? Right.

You looked at your mother as she folded her hands and closed her eyes. Then your eyes drifted to Stu who had already done the same. You bowed your head and followed their lead, silently wondering why you hadn’t thought William to be a religious man in the first place. There was just something about him that had screamed ‘unholy’ ever since you’d met him. You just couldn’t quite put your finger on what that something was.

The sonorous timbre of William's recitation of ‘Our Lord's Prayer’ filled the room, a droning incantation. You listened to hear the variation in his words. The Catholic Lord’s Prayer, you noted, having heard different versions of the ‘Our Father’ over the years.

While you listened, a stealthy pressure appeared on your thigh, warm and insistent. The shape of a hand, hot and undeniable. The fingers resting upon the fabric of your clothes. Thank goodness you didn’t wear your shorts right now.

Your breath hitched, eyes squeezing tighter shut in a mix of fear and curiosity.

Judging by the size and the angle the hand came from, it could be none other than William’s hand. But why would your stepdad touch your leg?

As quickly as it had come, the hand moved up your leg and then disappeared again, leaving you confused and doubting whether what you had felt had been real. Only one way to find out though.

You peeped an eye open to see who at the table had dared to unclasp their hands, your gaze snapping to your stepfather as he was the main suspect.

But William sat with his hands folded, piously. His eyes seemed to be closed, though it was hard to tell behind those thick glasses.

"And lead us not into temptation," he continued, tone unflinching. It made his words feel all the more like a stab. As if you had somehow succumbed to the temptation of curiosity. While you could have sworn he had placed his hand on your lap. But… had you been imagining it?

Amen.

Relief washed briefly over you as the prayer ended, and the collective murmur of 'good meal' wishes echoed around the table.

While William launched into a monologue about his day at work, dissecting every minor occurrence with surgical precision, your mother was hanging onto his every word. You picked at your food, glad that the taste hadn’t changed and that at least that aspect of your life still felt familiar.

A sudden nudge against your foot startled you from the numbing drone of workplace politics. Heat blossomed on your cheeks when you realized it was Stu, mischief dancing in his blue eyes. Had you moved your legs too much into his space? This seating arrangement was still new to you and Stu was very tall. Surely he needed more space to put his legs with the height he had on him.

"Sorry," you murmured under your breath, almost instinctively, shrinking back into your seat. You felt as if you had intruded in his space and surely he mustn’t be thrilled to feel his stepsister’s feet blocking his own. Why else would he have nudged your feet with his?

Stu's voice, low and tinged with amusement, barely reached you. "Don't worry."

You retracted your legs, making sure they were neatly underneath your chair, aware of William’s glance in your direction. Stu had leaned over his food, feigning innocence in such a way that he indeed had you fooled. It must have been an accident, and it had probably been your fault as well.

Oh well, you still needed to get used to all of this. With cheeks red, you continued to eat. You listened to your mother’s laughter and William’s dry work-related tales.

You could have forgotten the embarrassing under-the-table incident, if Stu’s foot would not have returned. This time, clearly intentional. You glanced up at him to see him smirk playfully at you. His foot brushed over the back of yours, slowly inching up your ankle, and you glowered at him, a silent warning for him to shut it out.

A small chuckle escaped his lips and you could not help but shake your head as you tried to suppress a chuckle of your own. What was he doing? This was ridiculous!

Stu’s foot came to rest against yours, toes kissing toes. It was actually nice and warm to feel this part of him against you. The both of you continued eating like nothing under the table was amiss, casting each other glances every now and then while you ate. But your feet remained dormant, pressed against each other. Then, silence followed, and you heard William clear his throat.

"Stu, how was your day?" He inquired, his voice smooth like aged whiskey, edges just as sharp.

The feet underneath the table shot back to his own side and you felt like you could breathe again. Finally, Stu seemed to leave you alone. His game had ended.

"Fine," Stu replied, shrugging. "Hung out with friends."

"Good, good," William nodded, the benign smile plastered on his face failing to reach the frost in his gaze. "Just keep out of trouble, all right? School's not far off."

Oh-ho, there was something there, you could tell. Apparently, Stu wasn’t very serious about his schoolwork. Or he spent too much time with his friends. Whatever it was, it was clear his father had just given him a warning, and quite right. This was Stu’s last year and no doubt William wanted his son to graduate.

"Sure, Dad." Stu's nonchalance was a well-practiced art, the shrug of his broad shoulders a quiet rebellion. "I'll stay focused."

Underneath the table, his feet returned to your side and without a warning, your leg became a battleground. Stu's foot pressed against it, insistent, warm through the fabric of your clothes. You tensed, breath caught in the crossfire between annoyance and something perilously close to thrill. Could you just kick him back? The idea seemed like a good one.

"And you," William's voice drew you back. "Must be exciting to start your final years here. You'll be attending the same high school as Stu. It's a fine institution."

"Y-yes," you stuttered, trying to disentangle yourself from Stu's silent claim. If you kicked him now then your parents would know you’d been having a silent battle beneath the table. And somehow, that thought worried you. You didn’t feel like getting a lecture from your mom, or – God Forbid - from William. You didn’t know if you could survive such a thing.

"That's... great to hear," you stammered, mind not fully there as you tried to keep your eyes upon your stepfather whilst Stu’s foot was still battling with your own.

Finally, Stu withdrew, leaving behind a ghost of pressure. A smirk played on his lips, visible only to you, like a secret shared between predator and prey. You felt as if your cheeks must be a bright red now, and hoped William and your Mom would interpret your stammering and the flush on your cheeks as you simply being shy.

"Education is important," William continued, his tone paternal, as if he had this talk many times in the past. Another indication that he had been sternly talking to his son before you and your mom moved in.

"Of course," your mom agreed from her side of the table, passing one of the condiments to William via Stu. “Which is why I am so grateful you managed to get her in at the same school as Stu.” She looked at you, an excited glimmer in her eyes. “It’s the best one around here.”

You forced a small smile. Not that you didn’t appreciate what your mom and stepdad had been arranging for you, but you couldn’t quite care at this point. Everything you had known before, every friend you had made, was left behind. You had to start all over. And that… well, that felt kind of rough.

As if your mom sensed where your thoughts were heading, she asked you, "Are you excited about making new friends at school?"

In front of you, Stu sat attentively, blue eyes glistening with interest while he toyed with his fork. But you could tell that he was listening intently. Next to you, William had placed his elbows on the table and rested his chin on his hands, attention fully back on you again.

"I suppose,” you said, realizing you didn’t sound as enthusiastic as your parents might have hoped. To defend the lack of energy fueling your words, you quickly perched on your seat and turned to your stepdad fully. "I'm actually looking forward to learning rather than to making new friends."

"Is that so?" William raised a brow and you couldn’t tell if he was impressed or skeptical of your claim. You were telling the truth though. Learning would keep your mind occupied and distract you from the things you had lost, everything that you had left behind. Plus, the sooner you got high school over and done with, the sooner you could find your own way in life.

"Have you always been this eager to learn?"

You glanced at him and was it just you, or did his gaze just seem to darken? Must have been a trick of the light.

“Oh no, I’ve always been a curious girl,” you said, the words slipping from between your lips with ease. “Learn new things, practice new skills. I won’t say I’m any good at it but I try and do my best.”

“She’s a very serious learner,” your mom said with a smile. “Truly what they call a good girl. And what a blessing to have for a daughter.”

You smiled at the compliment and then picked up your cutlery. But you made the error of letting your eyes slide past the men around the table, noticing how both Stu and William's eyes had darkened, a storm brewing in twin blue skies.

How very alike they were. The similarities between the two of them sent a shiver down your spine and you nearly dropped your cutlery.

"A good girl indeed," William praised, his words a thoughtful murmur as he watched you through half-lidded eyes, chin still resting on his fingers. It felt as if the air had grown denser, charged with something unnamed.

Your mother seemed oblivious to the change. She smiled brightly, taking William’s words as a compliment, not a threat.

You shook your head and let out a nervous laugh, and only looked up again when you heard the others had continued eating. William and your mother’s conversation had turned back to some of the women William knew in the neighborhood. He was telling your mom which ones she should try to get in touch with and had the same hobbies as she had. Then she would feel less alone whenever he was at his job. Plus, it was always a good thing to make new friends, right? It was yet another reminder of how lonely you were in this new neighborhood. Sure, you were still in touch with some of your old friends, but you didn’t have a partner who would present new contacts to you on a plate. You’d have to find them all on your own. And as the new girl in town, that was either going to be incredibly easy, or incredibly hard.

You had the feeling it was going to be the latter.

You listened, relieved that the focus had shifted from you back to your mom, and leaned back in your chair after you decided you had eaten enough.

As you listened to the banter, half lost in a daydream, a foot suddenly slid past yours again. Large, warm, familiar.

Your eyes instantly darted to Stu who was poking at his food like nothing was happening underneath the table. Well… If he wanted to play this game, you would entertain him.

With a smirk on your lips, you nudged back, a playful jab. You’d slipped your foot out of your shoe, making it easy to slip your sock past his shin. And yes, you deliberately aimed your foot a little higher, brushing the side of your sole past his shin sensually.

A sharp intake of breath was heard, but not coming from Stu in front of you.

Instead, when you lifted your gaze, it wasn't your stepbrother's smirk that met you. It was William's.

"Apologies," he uttered, the edges of his lips twitching upward. But there was an unpredictable glint in his eyes. "I seem to have bumped against someone."

Blood rushed to your cheeks, betraying you as you recoiled. "Oh no,” you yelped, hoping he would think the touch against his leg had been an accident.

“That was me.” You knew you looked flustered now as you stammered, aware of all eyes upon you. “It was my fault. I’m sorry. I’ll just keep my legs over here."

Across the table, Stu’s smile turned into a knowing grin. He shoveled another bite into his mouth before turning to face your mom.

“This tastes really good,” he said, eyes glinting mischievously. “You make the sweetest things.”

“Indeed,” William said, his lips parted as he paused, tongue darting out to tip against his canines while he thought. And you could tell that from the corners of his eyes, he was watching you as he murmured, “the sweetest things.”

You couldn’t shake the thought that both men meant something ambiguous with that comment. But surely, they couldn’t mean you, could they?

Because the thoughts inside your mind, right now, were anything but sweet.

AN: For more, follow me (:

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#reader x william afton x stu macher #Reader insert #stepdad william afton x reader #stepbrother stu macher x reader #stepbrother stu macher #stepdad william afton #william afton x reader #Stu macher x reader

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madewithonerib · 11 months

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4.] Now What is Meditating?

Meditate that's not a clear word in English at all because it's a word that has been picked up to describe the kinds of spiritual practices in many different kinds of religious traditions.

So what does it mean in the biblical tradition? [in the Jewish & Christian tradition]

Of course I have to teach you the Hebrew word because that's what I do, so this is a really good one--the word "haga" is used a handful of times in the Biblical Hebrew.

And actually the majority of times that you learn about, you see this word used it's not referring to people -- it's referring to animals who are doing this, so in Isaiah a lion "hagas"

.............................................................................. And it's particularly a lion who has just shredded a lamb to pieces and is like sitting there over the meat & the fur & stuff ..............................................................................

like beginning to eat it, & that lion is said to be hagaing over its prey--there's a number actually most of the passages in the Bible that use this word are describing doves

And what doves do & what actually the English word would use to describe the lion doing that over the slaughtered little Lambie..

What's that? Fear? No

To describe what the lion "hagaz" over its prey what would you say like growl is talking about the sound it's making: wrong [apologizes]

What does it mean for a dove to haga?

Prayer Lead to Maturity P1,2,3,4,5,6 | Tim Mackie [Psalm 1:1-5]

#Prayer #Maturity #Connect #Relationship #Hearing GOD #Meditate #Not to Progress #Learn Something New #Delve into Deeper Appreciation #Oneness with JESUS #unity #oneness #ONE with GOD #Prayer Lead to Maturity

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thatbanditqueen · 1 month

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Come Hell or Come Sundown

A Charro! One-Shot

Summary: It is the summer of 1968 and Elvis finds himself in a New Hollywood, no more production code, just a ratings system with the promise of more sex and violence. This is good, because Elvis is in transition too! He is hot off the set of his TV special and ready to make a gritty western he can be proud of. Things are going well, he's making friends on location in Arizona, but then first they cut some of the violence, and now he's not so sure there is going to be any sex scenes in this movie. What's next, are they going to make him sing to his horse?

Inspired by the cut nude bath scene and the notes in Donna Lewis' diary that there were originally sex scenes scripted in Charro!

A response to the writing prompt: "Cowboy Elvis"

Warnings: References to past sexual harassment, minor drug use implied and kissing.

WC: 13.4K

Thanks to my lovely writing support group @vintageshanny @ellie-24 @be-my-ally @lookingforrainbows @from-memphis-with-love @missmaywemeetagain @shakerattlescroll @peskybedtime and to @whositmcwhatsit for alpha-ing most of this. It is been a crazy two months, I won't go into it, but if you are still reading my stuff let me know it.

July 29, 1968

Apacheland Arizona

Ina leaned against the back side of the sound stage listening to the cactus wren sing their sunrise melody for the desert. Off in the brush she saw a lizard scurry away. It was early, but the air was already beginning to heat up and hung there thick with promise. She took a sip of her coffee, savoring the light, sweet taste, her heart full of hopeful anticipation for the sweet day ahead.

She ran her fingers down over her blouse, enjoying the smooth empty feeling underneath where round flesh had been a month ago.

This picture had been the answer to her prayers, a sign that she could still land a part as the love interest role. It was a role she knew well, one she had been playing for ten years in vehicles designed to showcase male stars: John Wayne, Paul Newman, Jerry Lewis, and now Elvis. Ina rarely got a leading role in a picture focused on a couple or a strong female character, but she accepted it was still a good salary and it kept her busy on and off between modeling gigs.

Lately, however, the on and off had been more off, and her agent, Mickey, had started talking about auditioning for roles as older sisters, aunts, and even, gasp, mothers.

But then she got this and bam! She had knocked over her phone with excitement as Mickey described this project as a “modern, gritty western.” She’d even agreed to the nudity, accepting her agent’s advice that this was going to open up even more doors now that the production code was gone and the film industry had a new rating system that allowed for mature content.

The first American western with a sex scene. That’s how Chuck, this director, had pitched his script in their first meeting, while also assuring her it would be tasteful and artistic and mainly shot using her facial expressions. She hadn’t cared, signing anywhere they wanted if it meant staving off cinematic spinsterhood for as long as possible.

And then, after carefully examining every dimple in her bottom that night, Ina had launched into a month-long disciplined regimen of ballet classes, black beauties and one meal a day. Ina took a deep breath and inhaled the earthy, floral aroma of the Arizona desert, letting it fill her with confidence. Her tummy was svelte, her skin glowed with a healthy bronze tan, and she was ready to conquer the shoot ahead. She had a feeling about this picture. A good one.

Hollywood was buzzing about the TV special Elvis had just finished shooting. Apparently it was raw and gritty and unvarnished, just like the script for this film. And Chuck, her director, was the king of the westerns, who had been promoting Charro! in the trade press as Peckinpah meets Leone with more sex appeal and heart.

Ina looked out at the orange glow of the desert sky at sunrise one last time as she stomped out her cigarette butt and murmured to herself with hushed excitement.

“What a glorious start to a glorious day.”

She headed back inside and made her way around the back of the set where she bumped into Elvis’ stunt double and friend, Jerry. Ina grinned, she couldn’t help it, Jerry’s serious eyes and rugged shoulders made her heart skip a beat.

“That was some party last night, huh?”

Jerry looked down, his low chuckle heavy with the weight of words unspoken as they both reflected on the prior evening. Ina was sure she saw an echo of her own desire in the warmth dancing behind Jerry’s blue eyes.

“You should talk, Sandy Koufax. Charlie’s grateful he can still see.”

Ina gulped, covering her mouth.. “ Oh no! Is he really hurt? I felt so bad, I was aiming for his stomach.” Ina said, twirling her hair. “Although I didn’t feel nearly as bad after watching Elvis go after Alan with the whole bucket, intentionally, over and over. He really took it to the next level.”

“Oh, that’s just how the bossman lets off steam.”

“That’s one way to put it. Say, where is the old steam engine, anyway?”

“He just went out front to get some dirt on his clothes.”

Ina raised her eyebrow.

“He wants to make sure he has that real cowboy look.”

“Huh, Elvis Strasberg. Who knew?”

Ina thought of Elvis out rolling around in the dirt and tried not to giggle. This got harder and harder as she looked into Jerry’s eyes, which were also twinkling with amusement.

In a moment of vulnerability Ina decided to let down her guard and step closer, trailing her fingers over Jerry’s upper arm. His muscle flinched slightly under her hand and it made her feel a little flight of butterflies in her tummy.

“Too bad,” she murmured in what she hoped was a sexy, flirtatious voice. “I was beginning to hope maybe you’d have to step in for him today.”

Jerry’s eyes widened for a split second, as he ran his hand through his hair. “Uh, well, as far as I know his scenes today aren’t dangerous at all.”

“That’s what you think.” Ina smiled, walking backwards for a few steps to enjoy the slight blush coloring Jerry’s scruffy cheeks.

She couldn’t be sure, but she felt there was a spark between them, and it made her feel young and giddy. Fifteen years of having her body and self worth surveyed and scrutinized and picked apart had left Ina unsure of her seduction abilities. First it had been photographers and advertising executives, then producers and directors had joined the throng out to shatter her confidence. For some women, the brutality of the business helped them create a calloused, impenetrable outer shell and distorted sense of self worth. For Ina, it had done the opposite, and she frowned as she felt the familiar knot of insecurity tighten in her stomach and vowed not let her self doubt stop her from having fun this time. No, before the end of this shoot she’d get Jerry alone and find out if he was as quiet and soft spoken in bed as he was on set.

Twenty minutes later, Ina was still smiling to herself when she slunk into a chair in make-up and pulled her thick, terry cotton robe tighter around her body.

“Look at you,” Bertie gushed as she toyed with Ina’s long, brown hair. “Excited for the scenes today?”

Ina paused and looked at herself in the mirror, letting out a nervous sigh.

“As ready as I’ll ever be.”

She awkwardly smiled up at Bertie, and told herself to relax even as her shoulders inadvertently rolled upward and she tugged at the hem of her robe.

“You know five, even three years ago, you would kiss, passionately, then the camera would pan to the bedside table and come back into focus with you smoking. But now, Blow Up, Bonnie & Clyde, the new rating system. It’s a whole new ball game out there. I’m not sure - “

“Oh, you’re gonna be fine.”

Ina looked down and studied the top of her cleavage, she felt strangely ambivalent about the nudity and the sex scenes they were shooting. She was proud that they wanted her to do them, it bolstered her self esteem and made her feel longed for and desired, special. But she couldn’t shake that nagging feeling deep down that she would get on set, bare it all and then have the director and DP exchange hushed whispers before pulling her off and recasting her role. She met her own gaze again in the mirror and tried to squelch her self doubt.

“I know, I know, and it’s all very tasteful. I trust Chuck. Still, I’m the one wearing a see-through robe. All Elvis has to do is take off his cowboy hat before he carries me to the bed. He might be shirtless in the second scene, but for the most part all we’ll see is a little bit of his ear.”

Bertie nodded into big rounds of hair she was smoothing over with oil and pinning into place with bobby pins lodged at the side of her mouth.

“Yeah, well, with most guys I’d be fine just seeing the ear, cuz women’s bodies are just more beautiful. But with Elvis, I kinda wished they’d have him nude too, you know?” She clicked her tongue and winked at Ina in the mirror,

“You should get Betty Friedan on that, it would really be a movement for sex equality. Though I bet he’d give you a private show if you asked him, Bertie. He’s making his way through the crew, two at a time I hear.”

Bertie wiggled her eyebrows into the mirror.

“Yeah, I heard about that, two of the pretty Mexican extras, right? They can have him, I just want to look at him. I don’t think I’d survive if he touched me.” She flipped her long red hair over her shoulder and bit her lip. “I don’t know how you are going to make love to him all day.”

“Oh, well, when it’s work, you sort of detach yourself. I mean, yes, Elvis is very handsome, but he doesn’t really send me, you know? You should have seen him last night with his guys. Like a pack of wild animals.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah, I think Jerry is the only one who has ever opened a book, or doesn’t eat with his hands.”

Ina tried not to move as she watched Bertha pin another round hair piece in place.

“The stunt double? He sure has that silent type thing going for him.” Bertie squinted her eyes at Ina as she stuck a few more pins in. “Ahhhh, let me guess, that’s the type you go for. Over Elvis. Are you telling me that you wouldn’t, you know, play patty cake with Elvis if he made the move? I thought he always dated his leading lady, maybe those extras are just the appetizer before the main dish..”

Ina sat up, admiring the tower of rolled hair Bertie had constructed on top of her head. Satisfied, she leveled Bertie with a friendly but stern look.

“Things can get sticky when you bed your co-star. And giving in just encourages them. You shoulda seen Jerry Lewis trailing me around off set like a creep. like I owed it to him.”

Ina grimaced, remembering Lewis’ sweaty brow as he had pushed her against the wall of her dressing room and promised that she’d like it, that she didn’t know what she was missing. She shuddered, thinking of him and all the others: the photographers who’d grinded into her as they straddled over her during a photo shoot. The producers who had invited her to an audition and then cornered her alone. She felt sick to her stomach and reached out for the random half drunk bottle of Coke on the vanity in front of her to wash away the bad taste in her mouth.

“You ok, Miss Balin?”

“Please Bertie, call me Ina. After that party last night I think we’re all on a first name basis.”

“Ha, yeah, I guess.” She turned Ina around to finish her make up. “You know, I think you might be the only woman here who doesn’t want to sleep with Elvis.”

“Thank god Elvis seems to be somewhat of a gentleman, because I’m not looking to be another notch on his belt, I’ve worked too hard to stay in this business without a casting couch reputation, and I plan to keep it that way. Plus, with all the bed hopping that happens on location, and then having to run scenes together if things get, you know, weird. Better to keep things professional between us.”

“On the other hand, a lonely stunt man...”

Ina winked, she could feel the giddy excitement bubble up just thinking of Jerry. She tried to stifle it and stay aloof as she spoke.

“A month is a long time, even a lonely stuntman deserves some company.”

A cough interrupted their giggles and the women turned to see Elvis leaning against the doorway, one hand on his belt. He squinted his eyes, looking at them with exaggerated suspicion as he wiped his hand over his forehead leaving a dark streak of dirt above his brow.

“Uh huh, and just what’d I stumble into here, huh? You two look like you are up ta no good, boy, I tell ya what.”

Perfectly lined smoky eyes sat below Elvis’ dirty forehead and more dirt billowed off his trousers as he strode toward the two women, his hands hanging off the top of his corduroy trousers. Bertie shot Ina a cautious glance in the mirror that warned her not to laugh, even as the sides of her lips seemed to hold back a chuckle.

“I’ve seen that look before Iny Niny.” Elvis said. “Right about the moment ya took aim and fired at poor Charlie Hodge, square the eyes.”

“I really didn’t mean to hurt him! Really.” Something about Elvis’ easy charm made it impossible not to smile broadly. “I - we - we’re not up to anything, you. Just chit chat. I was saying how I almost didn’t recognize you when I got here yesterday. On account of that beard you got, Presley.”

“I almost don’t recognize myself, honey.” He paused and looked in the mirror, taking a step closer as he rubbed the dirt into his forehead more. “That’s probably a good thing, maybe this picture actually has a chance to be something.”

Ina sat up as Bertie dusted her with a last round of hair spray and swiveled her chair around to face him.

“Oh, now don’t say that, there’s a reason you’re the star here. I love your movies.”

Ina may not have actually seen them all, but she knew of Elvis’ desire to be in more serious dramas. It was a common topic of conversation in Hollywood when his name came up. Ok, well, one of the common topics. Maybe not as common as his reputation for fucking his costars, she mused to herself, but still, as someone who had even less clout to be picky about projects, she sympathized with that ever present double bind of needing the money, not wanting to be seen as difficult, and yet, also yearning for more creative fulfillment.

Their eyes met and he nodded to himself, pursing his lips, as if he were reading her mind,

“Huh, so you're the one.” He grinned and took his cowboy hat off, running his hand through his hair as he tried to fill the awkward silence. “Well, sorry but I can’t issue you a refund, Iner Niner. All I can promise is that this ‘un will be better than some of the stinkers, I reckon.”

Ina smiled big, thinking of the desert sunrise this morning, all the good omens. “I don’t know if I would ever describe an Elvis film as a stinker. But I do have a good feeling about this film.”

Elvis scratched his beard, a naughty blush lighting up his cheeks as he took in the very sheer negligee peeking out from under her white terry cloth robe.

“Huh, feeling better and better the more I look- I mean listen to you, INy”

Ina felt a chill up her spine as she looked into Elvis’ dancing eyes, lingering on his face with newfound appreciation. There was something about the way the stubbly beard he had grown out for this role accentuated his jawline and made him seem more rugged, more handsome than he had looked when he played the polished romantic lead in his previous films. She felt a flutter of something unfamiliar stir in her belly; she had never been gaga over Elvis before.

And you are not now, she told herself, it’s just the characters and the scenes you know you are shooting today. Besides, he flirts with everyone, why he’d been flirting with you and every woman in the bar last night even when he had one or two extras on his lap.

Elvis arched his eyebrow, and Ina pulled her robe closer with a nervous laugh.

“Yeah, I think you’re gonna be seeing a lot more of me today.” She chuckled. “I was just telling Bertie I remembered when all I had to do to film a sex scene was lead a cowboy into my wigwam, and let the camera cut to smoke coming out of the top. We left the rest to the audience’s imagination.”

“Yeah, I think I remember that one.” Elvis whistled as he plopped into the make-up chair next to her. “Well, don’t worry, we’re only gotta pretend to make love with an audience of a hundred or so crew members watching, so no pressure.”

They laughed nervously, and then one of the production assistants peered around the door and called to Ina that the DP was ready to work out the lighting for her fully nude bath scene. She stood and gave Elvis a friendly pat, smiling inwardly as she looked over her shoulder to see Bertie trying to wipe the dirt off his forehead.

“See you out there in the ring, Presley.”

“Ok,” he smiled.

Ina studied him for another beat, wondering if the way his beard framed his lips made them look even bigger and more luscious, but she couldn’t be sure.

Striding from the building with wardrobe and dressings back to the soundstage, Ina considered how Elvis had managed to meet and completely defy her expectations. She had never seen him at awards shows, premieres or parties, nor ran into him around town or at the studio canteens. Indeed,he had a reputation for keeping to himself in Hollywood. All she knew was the second hand information she got from people who had worked with him and the Hollywood rumor mill. There were so many contradictory descriptions of him that no, she had not known what to expect when she arrived in Arizona and discovered an Elvis she barely recognized under the scruffy beard he’d grown.

When Chuck, the director, had brought her over to introduce them, he had been shy and sweet, sheepishly sticking out his hand with an affected deep “Hullo, I’m Elvis Presley.” But then by the end of the rehearsals yesterday they had become more comfortable with each other. Something about kissing Elvis inbetween jokes she knew he was making to make her feel at ease had broken the ice between them. And he had started in with the nicknames almost immediately, helping to bring her into the camaraderie that had been established with the crew before her arrival.

The run through yesterday had gone well, all jokes aside, and he had shown himself to be respectful and kind, never pushing or trying anything when they were in each other's arms. It’s probably good that he’s sleeping with some of the extras, Ina thought to herself. That way there would be no pent up sexual expectations and she could just focus on being a professional and perhaps even friends with Elvis.

Yes, she could be friends with him. Ina had only been in Apacheland for a little over 24 hours, but she could tell from Elvis’ warmth that they had established a solid rapport and chemistry for their roles. She felt as safe as she could with him as she readied herself for her first nude role on film.

“Today is going to be a good day,” Ina repeated to herself as she opened the door and entered the sound stage.

Ina was walking along the corridor behind the set when she heard Jerry’s voice on the other side of the plywood and hurried to catch him and flirt a little more. But then he said her name and she stopped, listening, as she realized he was speaking with one of Elvis’ other friends. It sounded like Charlie.

“I saw y’all. Why, she had her hands all over you, ya big stud. You really ain’t gonna try to bury the hatchet in that briar patch?”

“Oh, you know how Crazy can be. All I did was apologize to Alma and Flor for blocking the doorway last night and he ‘bout split in two. I ain’t about to try no funny business with his leading lady.”

“But you heard him call her Groucho, said he could barely stand to kiss her with that mustache above her lip. Said she was so manly, you could almost mistake her for one a the cowboy extras in drag. Like a goddamn drag queen who forgot to shave, is what he said.”

Ina felt the blood drain from her face and she began to tremble, tracing her fingers above her smooth upper lip, the one she diligently waxed every two weeks. They might as well have punched her in the gut with a steel two by four. She could almost taste something metallic at the back of her throat, where a lump formed.Tears threatened to spill from her eyes, and it took all her willpower to push them back as she stood there paralyzed while Jerry and Charlie chatted away.

“Aw, well he was off his rocker, she isn’t nearly as bad as that dog from continuity he had in his room at NBC, you know, with the big knockers?”

“Nah, I think In-ahhs pretty cute myself. If she’d been pawing my chest I’d be on that like white on rice, man.”

“Heard you like drag queens, Hodges.”

“Aw naw man, see, now that ain’t fair. Sides, that’s Lamar.”

The busy sound of the crew talking and moving around the sound stage echoed up into the lights with Charlie and Jerry’s laughter, but Ina could hardly hear anything except the pounding of her heart through her whole body. Air. She needed air. Ina hurried out a side door, her mind was racing and there was no way she could stomach the idea of filming a sex scene with Elvis now. Jerry and Charlie’s words had fractured the fragile veneer of confidence she had spent the last month building up. Dieting, ballet classes, early nights, slathering her face in cold cream and plunging it in ice first thing in the morning, staying away from alcohol and ice cream. She had worked so hard to get to a place where she had been able to look in the mirror and tell herself she could do this. Now all her self doubt had returned tenfold.

Facing the desert, she lit a cigarette and muttered under her breath, her voice cracking as tears rolled down her cheeks.

“Oh god oh god, why did I take this role? Why do I embarrass myself again and again?”

Ina pressed her hand to her throat as she sucked in deeply, willing the nicotine to steady her shaking body. She longed to run off, get in her car, and maybe drive to that bar down the road Bertie had told her about, the one where all the baseball players went.

The very idea of male attention was like a salve, and it helped her slow her breath as she slumped against the warm, concrete wall of the sound stage and looked out at the desert, focusing on the hills in the distance.

It was like looking out at a completely different view than she had faced that morning. The land was now desolate and unforgiving in the July heat, and the jagged peaks of Superstition mountain loomed like a giant, dark fiery sentinel in the sky. Her chest rose and fell with each inhale and exhale of smoke, her fingers trembled as she tried to quell the turmoil churning inside her.

Just when she was sure she couldn’t walk back inside, she smelled a hint of sage in the dust, it filled her nostrils with renewed energy. The wind whispered in her ear that she was stronger than she knew, she had trudged harder paths than this. She could put one foot in front of the other.

The door next to her exploded open and there was the fresh face of the young, blonde PA who had called to her in wardrobe.

“Oh, there you are Miss Balin, we’re ready for you.”

Ina sucked in another drag of her cigarette and took a deep breath. She could do this. Elvis and his entourage were a bunch of childish idiots. Fuck them.

True to his promise, the director, Chuck, kept the set closed for the nude bath scene Ina was shooting first. It was just him, the cinematographer, his assistant, the boom operator, and three female PAs. One to hold the clap board and two to help Ina in and out of the tub. The scene was blocked so the camera only captured her naked from behind with the side of her breast visible as she donned a sheer blue robe lined with black lace. They would run it from the top, then Chuck would run over and tell her how stunning she was and ask for another take as she shivered. It took eleven takes in all before he and the DP were content they had the footage they needed.

Ina reclined in her chair, trying to warm up during the short break before the next scene. She was rehearsing the dialogue as people trickled in to shoot her first love scene with Elvis, and she suddenly became paranoid that other crew members had heard Jerry and Charlie’s story about Elvis’ calling her a drag queen. She sat up and looked around. Suddenly every hushed whisper was about her, every glance her way was filled with pity. She gripped the side of her chair and told herself to get it to-fucking-gether.

The next scene was meant to occur directly after the bath, when her character, Tracy, discovers Elvis’ character, Jess, rummaging around in her bedroom looking for his gun. They would argue, then kiss, then argue more before he carried her to the bed. After that, he would remove her robe and begin to kiss her neck, stop and then put his hat on the bedpost, before the camera moved in for an extreme close up of her face as they made love.

Then they would break the set and set up for the second sex scene that was meant to take place at the end of the film when Jess has been victorious against the band of outlaws and takes her to Mexico with him to start a new life across the border.

Ina squeezed her hand, using her thumb as a metronome as she said her lines. “I must look new to you - toooo you - I MUST look NEW to YOU now.” She had these little games she had learned in acting class to vary the rhythm and emphasis over and over until she was comfortable in the dialogue, in the character, and it rolled off her tongue naturally, without having to think about it.

Elvis' voice rang out high above the buzz of the crew and all the words she had ever known fell out of her head. She felt her sphincter clench up tightly instinctively as if on cue at the sound of his chuckle, and a frown formed on her lips. The air was suddenly ripe with the smell of sweaty bodies and stale coffee and cigarette smoke.

Looking over her shoulder, just the sight of him surrounded by his flunkies made Ina’s stomach sour. A spark of defiance bloomed in her belly at his smug face and she longed now to walk up to Elvis and slap him sharply across the face before telling him off for being such a rotten two-faced charming bastard. But instead she popped another black beauty to fight off the hunger she had sensed growing in her belly and steeled herself to give the performance of a lifetime.

Elvis passed by her chair as she stood, a crooked grin pushing the apples of his cheeks up above his beard.

“Well, might as well get it over with.”

His despondency made Ina bristle. She was completely incapable of stopping the prickly voice that sprang out from her throat.

“We don’t have to shoot these love scenes.”

Elvis paused in his stride toward the set and looked back at Ina, his brow furrowed for a moment before he grinned again, bigger and wider.

“Huh? Course I want to shoot ‘em, love scenes are my specialty.”

Ina narrowed her eyes at his stupid, smirking expression as he glanced around at his friends as they whistled and chimed in with a chorus of stupid affirmations.

“Uh huh.”

“That’s right.“

“On and off the set”

“Well, you seem anxious to, what was it, get this over with?” She said cooly, leveling him with a glare. “So then it must be me. Maybe we could just cut them from the film altogether. CHUUCK?”

Elvis’ face began to scrunch up in a frown as Ina’s voice rang out like a knife, cutting through the chaos of a live shoot. The sound stage had been buzzing with activity as the crew readied the set, but now everyone had stopped what they were doing and turned to stare at the two leads.

Elvis’ eyes zoned in on Ina and his face clouded with concern as his hands tightened against his body in clenched fists.

“Now see here - “ then he paused and took a deep breath, smiling big.

That broad, smooth, movie star beam.

“Aw, now I think we got are wires crossed someplace.That’s jus my ole stage fright talkin’, honey. Gets me ev’ry time like a sonabitch. Didn’t mean nothin’ by it, Iny Tiny, come get over here. I feel very honored to work with you. I been sayin’ all week, haven’t I, Chuck? That I couldn’t wait for Ina to get here, class up this joint’?”

Ina looked at where Chuck stood, hands at his hips as he nodded, a terrified grin plastered on his face.

“That’s right, that’s right. Why, that's what we’ve all been saying, Ina, we couldn’t wait for our Tracy to get here.”

Chuck dug a handkerchief out of his pocket and wiped it over his big, balding head as he spoke slowly, as if talking to a spooked horse. Ina

“I think I know what’s going on, my dear.”

Chuck looked over at Elvis and then put his arm around Ina, guiding her toward her mark.

“You’re nervous. We’ve just spent two hours during the bath scene. And this sort of - um - delicate, shall we say, yes, delicate feminine performance is new to you, isn't it?”

“Well, yes, I suppose, but I - “

Chuck put his finger to Ina’s mouth

“Say no more, my dear. It’s natural to feel vulnerable in this situation. But let me assure you, everything is being shot in the most artistic technique possible. And you, well, just look at you, huh?” He spun her around in the center of the set.

“Ina, you are a dream. My living, breathing Renoir painting. And I want you to know, that was my inspiration for your room here. The colors, the outfits, a Parisian chorus line meets the Old West. The colors, the costumes, they are meant to evoke the Belle Epoch, you know? You are wearing the same outfits Degas’ dancers wore, did you know that?”

“Uh huh, you mean if they wore anything?” Ina added in a clipped tone.

“See, and that’s exactly it! The original work of art is, of course, the beauty of the female form.”

“Cain’t argue with that.” Elvis smirked, but Ina shot him a withering look which threw him off again and once more he was frowning and searching her face.

Chuck noticed none of this and kept talking.

“And you are an exemplary example of the female form, a perfect specimen of a woman.”

“Well, I assure you I am no drag queen.”

Elvis coughed nervously, his hands clenched in fists at his side. The quick, sharp look he shot Joe did not escape Ina’s notice and she knew then that he had said the things Jerry and Charlie had been laughing about. She narrowed her glare at him, telegraphing her contempt as he stuttered and tried to regain control of the conversation.

“No - ah-uh -er - siree, honey, you’re the real deal, got more class than the rest of this outfit combined. Why, I reckon I’m more nervous ‘bout this scene than you are.”

Chuck nodded vigorously.

“Yes, we are all nervous shooting something that is, as I said, delicate like this. And your character is unsure in this scene, she loves Jess, but is torn, because she’s worried he is still the bandit she sent away. Channel your feelings into the scene and let’s make beautiful artwork here today.”

Ina rolled her eyes. “Ok, ok, I’m ok. Like he said, let’s just get it over with already.”

Elvis grinned as he walked around the set door to his mark.

“That’s the spirit, Iny Beany.”

Chuck yelled action, directing them through the scene as the cameras rolled.

“You see him rooting through your stuff, and you think of how long it's been, how he left you without a word. You hate him because you love him, but you wish you didn’t and you are trying to keep it all bottled up. Beautiful. Indifferent. That’s it Ina, that cool, icy glare, it’s perfect.”

It was not hard for Ina to muster a cool, icy glare for Elvis as he looked down at her. Every time they started, one of the PAs would come over and spray her body and chest with water for continuity with the bath scene that was just supposed to have occurred in the storyline.

In the third run through, she couldn’t help herself when Elvis’ foot knocked into hers. She thought of that guilty grimace she saw move across his face at the words “drag queen” and she stepped on his foot. Hard.

“Perfect! Perfect Ina, you’re nailing it!” Chuck called out from where he was watching the monitor.

“Nailing me is more like it,” Elvis said, jumping back, a hurt pout on his face. Then he reached out and stroked the side of her shoulder.

“Say, you sure you ok? You’re not sore at me for something, are you? It’d be better if we just clear the air. If I said something this morning, or did something in passing, honey, I’m sorry. But you gotta tell me.”

Ina looked in his big blue eyes, searching hers, seeking a connection. She glanced off behind him, at the brocade pink wall paper. The air smelled of bath water, sweat and cheap aftershave. Chuck was right, she thought, this could be a cheap Parisian brothel.

“I assure you, I am fine.” Ina forced her mouth into a tight smile. “Just watch where you’re going and we’ll be fine.”

He squinted his eyes at her, but seemed to decide against whatever it was he originally wanted to say, and stepped back with his arms up in surrender. “Okay. Alright. Whatever you say, Iny, my mistake. Let’s try again, I bet we’ll get it right somehow.”

They went through the whole scene three times, up until the part where Jess lifts Tracy up and carries her to the bed. Elvis’ eyes narrowed as he stepped toward her, uttering his lines in a stern, serious voice. But when he picked her up and hoisted her in the air, she heard Charlie’s obnoxious laughter in the background and their words from earlier began to play through her head again on a loop.

The shrill sound of his laugh sent a sharp bolt of pain down the center of her head and suddenly she felt as if ginger ale was bubbling up on to the top of her brain. She wasn’t sure if she could hold it together anymore.

There was the taste of bile again at the back of her throat. She swallowed, running through all of the tools she had learned in the Actor’s Studio such as telling herself she was Tracy and trying to channel her anger into the tension between Tracy and Jess. She was, after all, supposed to be fighting Jess’ advances at first and pushing him off before giving in. But she could barely look at Elvis and instinctively jerked back when he placed her on the bed and began to move his fingers over her sternum.

Her head throbbed and she could feel more tears welling up. She had to get out of there and take a little break, so she cried out, “CUT!”

Elvis jumped back, a panicked look on his face.

“Did I hurt you, Iny Beany? Wanna do it again, just to practice, from the mark by the bed?”

“No.,” she hissed under her breath, pushing him away. Maybe she didn’t need a break, maybe they could just skip this scene altogether.

“No, no no. I’m sorry, I just can’t do it. Chuck, do we really need a full love scene? We’re not making Belle du Jour here.”

Elvis had his hands on his hips, a stricken look on his face while Ina stood, straightening what was left of her dignity and snapping her fingers for the PAs to bring her thicker robe.

“Ina, darling, we just went through this.” Chuck’s transatlantic accent was getting thicker and higher-pitched the more he spoke. “And I hate to bring this up, you know I do, my dear, but it's in your contract.”

“Contract or not, I can’t do it. I just can’t.”

“My dear, what can I do to make you comfortable?” Chuck pleaded.

“Nothing. I would rather make love to a rattlesnake than to that man.”

Elvis stood taller, his fingers balled up into fists as his leveled, polished voice began to transform into a Southern snarl.

“Yeah, uh huh, well I had about enough of this bull shit. Rattlesnake, huh? That can be arranged, honey, why, I’ll get it myself.”

“Well, I bet it will be small and limp, just like you.”

He staggered back when she hurled those words at him, flustered and mumbling as he looked around the set to see who had been in earshot and heard her yell out the words ‘small and limp’ at him. The answer, of course, was everybody. Because everybody in the crew was watching.

They had, of course, originally gathered around because Charro! was making film history with today’s shoot.

All the popular European films being released had sex scenes, James Bond was having sex. Several recent westerns had initially included nude scenes, but studios had cut them at the last minute.

But 1968 marked the dawning of a new era. The MPAA had a new rating system. Bonnie & Clyde had proven last year that audiences not only had a stomach for violence, but wanted sex. And like Bonnie, they wanted it much more than they got it. And so this picture, and about a dozen others in production, were all racing to give it to them.

Even if the plan was to pan to a hat and then just Ina’s face, Charro! was going to make history.

Or rather, it would have made history. Instead, the entire crew watched in horror as Ina threw up her hands and stomped off in protest while Elvis coughed loudly, took a deep breath, and then announced to the crowd

“Don’t worry, folks, we’re gonna get Arthur Rankin in here and he’s gonna recreate these scenes with claymation. Make a little Elvis the Rednosed Cowboy.” His voice rang out with forced cheerfulness, followed by a ripple of nervous laughter that spread through the soundstage.

“Boy, I tell ya what, now that would be a historical milestone, huh Chuck? Bet audiences would pay double ta see a stop motion love scene.”

The director nodded as Elvis patted him on the shoulder with a forced, playful candor and then strode out of the studio followed by his entourage.

Elvis’ motel room was dark, save for the television, an ever present companion, and the table lamp that cast shadows against the wall outlining Alma’s silhouette. The light captured every curve of her body as it lay sideways across the bed next to him. His fingers tapped absentmindedly over her bronze thigh, but his mind was otherwise occupied and failed to register the coquettish look she was giving him as she pouted and ran her hand over his arm.

He was thinking of his first film and the time had asked his co-star, Richard Egan, the secret to good acting.

“You. You already got it kid, in spades. Why do you think they renamed this picture after your song? Just be you, unaffected, unadulterated. You’re a natural.”

But what good had natural ability been without opportunity? He’d had such high hopes back then, hopes to be in real movies about real people, stories with an edge that packed a punch. And for a time, it seemed like he was. Dramas in which the singing was a plausible part of the premise.

But somewhere along the way the edge had been sanded off and his plans had all gone wrong. He’d gotten himself typecast as the type of character he hated, a romantic lead who broke into song during an appointment with the IRS. Those roles were fine for Rock Hudson, but not for him. He knew he could do better. Better than dumb musicals, better than all this.

He had those same high hopes for this picture when he first read the script.

“Guess I should be happy this western’s actually being filmed in the goddamn desert and not in some California shrub valley,” he mumbled, balling his hands into fists as he spoke.

“What was that, baby?”

Elvis looked up at the woman lying next to him, he had forgotten she was even there. Her warm body next to him had become just another amenity of the room, like the mini fridge or the Gideons Bible. The puzzled look on her young, naive face reminded him how truly alone he was.

Oblivious to Elvis' existential crisis, Alma decided maybe he needed some prompting after their kisses had dissolved into still silence. She moved her hand to Elvis’ thigh, stopping when he flinched and jumped up almost as if he were trying to escape her touch. She frowned, then flipped her hair as she adjusted and lay prone over the polyester orange bedspread, fashioning a come hither look on her face. She could tell he was rattled by the onset fight and was trying everything in her bag of tricks to laugh it off and redirect him to something better. Her.

“Ha, small and limp. That bitch has no idea what she’s missing. It took all my self control not to cry out in front of everyone that you have an anaconda in your pants, Elvis.”

A grimace passed over his face, and Elvis started to button up his shirt and mumble to the floor.

“Don’t, baby - just-” He softened his voice at the rejection he saw in her eyes. “Honey, I can’t stand it when women do that.”

“What, what am I doing wrong?” Alma sat, her face falling as she scooted back against the pillows.

Elvis pulled on the red bandana around his neck and paced the other way, looking back at her as he tucked his shirt back into his clean, brown corduroy pants. His shoulders stiffened.

“Insincerity. I can’t, I jus hate it when women go overboard trying to puff up my ego. I’ve had my share of lovers, no one ever complained. That’s not the point.”

“It isn’t?”

“Nah, honey. What that bitch is really saying is she don’t take me serious, I’m not man enough for this fucking role, for her New York high society standards. Fat lot of good any a that did her, thinks I don’t know she’s been in what, five pictures? Jerry Lewis? Try twenty five, sister. Give me a goddamn break. She’s wound so tight, she could start a fight in an empty house, I tell ya what, boy, and that’s the god honest truth.”

He began to pace the room, wringing his hands over as he walked.

“This un’ is gonna be different, Chuck said, more raw, Chuck said, more real.” His voice trilled between a high falsetto and a deep growl. “Then first they cut the violence, and now this bullshit. What’s next? Bet they gonna try and have me sing to my fuckin horse!”

He punched the wall. “Fucking cowboys don’t fucking sing!” He screamed to the ceiling, then began to pace again, his hands now balled up in fists.

He turned and looked at Alma. “You ever see John Wayne sing? Gary Cooper? ‘Fore they walked over to the OK corral to shoot the bad guy?”

He punched the wall again and then turned and tried to compose himself when he saw Alma flinch.

“Ok ok ok ok.” He took a deep breath. “I - uh - this picture’s got me all keyed up.”

“Want some grass? Flor has some killer grass, make you forget today even happened.”

“Nah, honey - now, good lil girls like you should know better than to mess with that stuff.”

Alma pulled her hand through her hair and struck what she thought was a glamorous, come hither pose.

“Want me to give you a blow job? Help you relax?”

Elvis frowned. “Man, like a goddamn cat in heat and twice as willing. Don’t you think of nothing else?”

Alma sat up and started to put her clothes on, her voice as low as her hopes for the evening.

“You’re the one who invited me up here and had me undress while you watched. I’m just trying to do what I thought you wanted.”

“Well stop tryin’ to think, you’ll wear yourself out.”

Alma grabbed her shoes and opened the door, finding Joe on the other side with one hand about to knock and another holding up a tray of food in his hands.

“Oh, hey -”

“Hey yourself.” Alma said with a huff and a very aggressive hair flip, her long brown tresses smacking Joe’s cheek.

Elvis shrugged as Joe looked after Alma, whistling to himself.

“Man o man, EP, you got the prettiest girl here. What’s up her butt?”

“I don’t know - Something up with the chicks on this picture, man, stuck up and crazier than a sack full a possums.”

Elvis looked at himself in the mirror hanging on the wall across from the bed as Joe mumbled about how many crazy women they had met on their journeys, half-listening as he stroked his beard and reassured himself that he looked just as fit as Clint Eastwood. And more handsome. He winked at himself and straightened his belt buckle, then looked over at Joe.

“Now hold on a second, son, jus’ what in high heaven is that?”

Elvis lifted his hands from his left hip and pointed at the cheeseburgers and fries Joe had laid out on the table, fixing him with a dark glare.

“You said dinner, EP, brought you dinner.”

“Tryin’ to get me back in the 200 club like you? Don’t think I haven’t noticed you been auditioning for the part of lardass of the group.”

“But last night - I thought you -

“I thought, I thought - you ain’t thought shit, and that’s the problem. I’m supposed to be shirtless on film tomorrow and you fixin’ to get me fat as a boarding house cat.”

Joe frowned, furrowing his brow for the split second it took him to plaster a smile back on and nod. Now he understood what was up Alma’s ass, and what was about to be up his too if he didn’t turn this around.

“Right, boss, my mistake, tell me what you want and I’ll go get it.”

“What I want, what I want. Ain’t nobody cares what I want, and that’s the goddamn problem. Save a whole lotta time and money if you just thought to ask first.”

Elvis put his hands on his waist and cried out an inaudible growl to the ceiling.

“Jus… just bring me a caesar salad. A big one.”

Joe hurried out and Elvis went over to cover up the burgers, but the smell was too tempting, so instead he sat down and began to devour them one after another, mumbling to himself in between bites.

“Goddamit, if I look fat tomorrow it’ll be Joe’s goddamn fuckin’ fault.”

There was a knock at the door, and he yelled for whoever it was to come in as he went to wash up.

“Joe told me to come get rid of the - uh - food tray.”

Charlie’s voice trailed off as Elvis emerged from the bathroom and followed Charlie’s eyes to the table and the plates that were empty, save for a handful of cold fries.

“Well, have at it - wait.”

Elvis stepped back and looked around, grabbing one of the guns from the night stand and put it in his belt. He had all this nervous energy running up and down his body, he needed to just get out of this room, out of this motel, get as far as possible to just breathe some fresh air and think. He snapped his fingers at Charlie.

“Grab Gee Gee, we’re going for a drive.”

Charlie’s face softened into a big goofy, excited grin. “Okee dokee artichokee, where we heading?”

“Anywhere that ain’t this goddamn motel, numb nuts.” Elvis started to head down the exterior stairs, running his hand over the warm, wrought iron bannister. He looked back over his shoulder and clapped.

“Bring the cigars, too, then meet me at the car. Chop chop.”

A renewed sense of purpose guided his steps as Elvis walked down the corridor of motel rooms that lined the pool,and he ran his hands up and down the front of his shirt. He mulled over what he wanted to do that didn’t involve eating more hamburgers. Or eating anything.

When he looked up, he realized he had stopped outside Ina’s room. There, through the curtain, he could see the back of her through the curtain where she sat on her bed, talking to someone on the phone.

“No no no, Mickey, of course I understand. Yes, well, I don’t know, I think you have to have been on top to get back on top, but your meaning is not lost on me. I get it. Yes. Opportunity of a lifetime. I know. Elvis Elvis. Don’t worry. I’m gonna go make it right, right now.”

She looked up at the ceiling and wiped the sides of her eyes, summoning a mask of quiet cheer Elvis recognized well as she clutched the phone tight.

“Yes, no - I’ll be a good girl, Mickey. I promise. I know, I know, no bread.”

He was transfixed, enjoying the power he felt watching her unaware, and pressed closer to the glass, careful not to draw attention to himself. A small front section of her long, flowing hair fell out from behind her ears and she absentmindedly began to twist it nervously. She looked like a fragile little girl, like a beautiful flower someone had stepped on. The sight of her anxiously talking away pulled on his heart strings.

He shook his head. What the fuck had happened? Why was she so angry at him? He'd played the part of the funny, affable host from the minute they met, introducing her to the crew and having Gee Gee get her screwdrivers as they all yukked it up in the bar. He'd about busted his gut when she lobbed a handful of ice at Charlie and knocked him over the back of the couch.

He stood there watching as her big brown eyes lit up while she told her agent how nice the desert was. He almost believed her. Goddamit, why couldn’t she just be a good girl and get along? She’d been sweet and flirty in make-up and then what, an hour or two later, her claws were out and she’d aimed them at him.

He whistled and thought about the fickleness of women as he turned to walk the long way around the pool.

Thirty seconds later he heard the thud of a door opening followed by Ina’s voice calling out for him.

Elvis stopped, his hands moved out as if to balance himself as he swiveled around, slowly, to face her. A sense of dread settling in his stomach. Up above him, he saw Charlie and Gee Gee making their way down the staircase, while to his left a group of crew members were heading for the pool. The smell of chlorine wafted through the open air hallway.

He cautiously trudged back toward the doorway to where Ina stood, each footfall a slow thump of his cowboy boot against the hard concrete sidewalk.

“Oh good, I’m glad I caught you, Elvis.” She swallowed, there it was again, that cheerful mask settling over her face as she exhaled a nervous laugh. “Could I talk to you for a minute?”

Elvis straightened up, looking around again before pulling on the red bandana at his throat. He definitely didn’t want to be alone with Ina. She was unpredictable and he couldn’t stand the awkward energy that flickered between them. However, he also didn’t want another public scene and he could already hear their names being whispered by some of the crew at the pool.

So he did what he always did with an audience, he mustered a wide, beaming smile and spoke in a nonchalant, cool voice:

“Hey honey, you ain’t gotta worry bout me, I’m all good. You get your beauty sleep and I’ll see you tamarra onset an - “

Ina’s lip trembled, she looked like she might fall apart at any moment.

Shit he thought, unable to stop himself from walking over to her and stroking her shoulder.

“There there, been a rough day. This desert heat, I tell ya what, baby, does things to ya head. Now go ahead and listen to ol’ Elvis -”

Ina put her hand over his where it squeezed her shoulder.

“Could we just talk - just for a moment?” Her eyes pleaded with him. “Alone. I - I won’t take much time, I just - I’d like to apologize and clear the air if you’ll let me. Otherwise, otherwise I won’t be able to sleep and then you’ll be making love to a haggard old zombie first thing in the morning.”

Elvis' eyes softened and he looked around once more before nodding. “Ok.”

As soon as the door closed he was an obedient puppy letting her lead him by the hand to sit on the bed, where he took off his cowboy hat and toyed with it in his lap.

Ina stepped away, backing toward the dresser where she lifted herself to sit next to the TV, but then changed her mind. She felt like a ship adrift, unmoored and out of her comfort zone. Sitting and swinging her legs about was too casual, she decided, so she stood back up and swept the hair that had fallen out of her high ponytail behind her ears.

Just make it short, sweet, earnest, she reminded herself, you’re no stranger to eating humble pie. Indeed, Ina reflected on the number of times she had apologized unnecessarily just to smooth things over with her mother or sister, a producer, an ad executive. This was one of the first times she felt she actually had behaved badly and now she was lost for words. If only there was a script for life.

“I - um - thanks for seeing me - I - I - I.”

All the words left her head when she found Elvis’ dark blue eyes studying her beneath his long lashes. He was rotating his cowboy hat in his lap. The smell of the heavy floral cleaning products the maids had used lingered in the air, stronger now that the air conditioner cycled on with a heaving, mechanic whomp. She swallowed again, and counted to ten, trying to ignore the way the back of her neck seemed to prickle as a chill went down her spine. She steadied herself, forcing her eyes to connect with his.

“Elvis, I am so very sorry. I mean it. I - I - I - ’ve never lost it before onset, it is so unprofessional I can barely stand to look at myself.”

She felt a release of tension as she watched his hands relax. He took a deep breath and stroked his beard.

“You don’t have to worry about me, Ina, I been making two to three pictures a year since 1933. I can roll with the punches, ain’t nothing I can’t handle. ThoughI gotta admit you threw me off back there.”

The register of his voice changed from rougher to softer as he looked down at the floor and then back up at Ina’s face.

“Be honest, did I do anything to offend you or make you mad at me?”

His softer side was almost harder to withstand and his eyes seemed to penetrate her very being, seeking out the secrets she kept hidden in her heart. She shook it off with another nervous chuckle,

“No, no, this was 100% me. I’ve been so nervous about these love making shoots. Chuck’s is telling everyone back in Hollywood this is the first the first film with a sex scene - “

“Isn’t it?”

“Well, I mean, since the production code, maybe, but they’ve shot plenty of them. It’s just that the studio always pulls out at that last minute -”

Ina covered her mouth and gasped when she watched Elvis’ lip curl up at her words but said nothing. He didn’t need to. The glint in his eye said it all and when he waggled his eyebrows up and down Ina laughed out. She was grateful for the levity, it seemed to crack through Elvis’ cool bravada and made this conversation easier.

“Stop, you know what I mean.”

She blushed, and looked out her window, watching as the silhouettes of two people walked by. It was getting dark, she needed to wrap it up.

“But yes, today I was nervous, I haven’t been eating or sleeping much, but I promise you - “

Her voice wavered as she turned back to find his steady gaze.

“ - um - no more fights, no more difficult behavior. I am so grateful for this opportunity to work with you and I just hope you can forgive me for my lapse of judgment.”

Elvis stood up, his fingers were once more busy fiddling with his cowboy hat and he spoke in a low whisper.

“Ok. I forgive you. So long as you really ain’t mad at me.”

The breath hitched in Ina’s throat when Elvis looked up at her, biting his lip in a way that made the top jut out a bit as he searched her face once more, as if she were a puzzle he needed to solve.

She gulped. “I - uh - I - no, I just need some sleep - I “

“Honey I can’t help feeling like you’re holding something back here, and if we’re gonna get along, I need you to be completely honest with me.”

Ina looked away. Damn him, he was like one of those fortune tellers back on Coney Island who she had believed as a kid. As a teenager she had learned the truth: they had no supernatural talents, they were just extremely gifted at reading their marks. Like Elvis was reading her right now.

“Oh, I may have been upset about something but it doesn’t matter, it was silly and stupid, like me. I - I was wrong, and I apologize. I’ll happily apologize to you in front of the whole crew tomorrow if you want. Really. If that is what it will take to make amends with you Mr. Presley.”

Elvis clenched his fists.

“I don’t give a damn about a public apology or the crew or any of that. But I can’t bear it when a woman is sore at me and won’t say why. Ticks me off to no end.”

Tension hung in the air, and Ina sighed. Recounting the whole ordeal made it seem so juvenile now, though it still stung.

“I - I am, I heard some of your friends talking. They -”

“Which friends?”

“Jerry, Jerry and Charlie. I told you, it’s like high school and I can’t believe I let them upset me.”

“Well now you started, better lay it all out for me. Go on.”

“I - I well, I heard them laughing about how you had said I looked like - like drag queen that needed a shave. And they were calling me Groucho and saying I had big feet.”

Ina let her shoulders drop and forced a smile, but she couldn’t stop her hand from pulling on the necklace at her chest.

“Ha, actually now that I say it is kind of funny, you see I - um - I usually have a great sense of humor. Any of my friends would tell you. Some of them are drag queens, actually. They’d probably feel more slighted being compared to me. Your boys just, they - they just caught me right before I was filming my first nude scene and well - “

Ina’s voice trailed off as she watched Elvis get up and pace towards the bathroom growling.

“Those fucking nitwits, pulling a stunt like that and gummin up tha works -” he turned and his face fell at the pained look on Ina’s face. “You know I never said nothin’ like that.”

Ina quickly shook her head, summoning the calm veneer that usually came so easy to her. She immediately regretted telling Elvis, now she felt as raw as she did after she had a full waxing appointment at the salon.

In her heart she knew he was lying, she knew from the way he had grimaced, albeit it briefly, on set when she’d said she wasn’t a drag queen.

Yet there was something earnest and pleading in his eyes that made her question her own grip on reality. This got worse when he bit his lip and looked up at the ceiling, all vulnerable and apologetic, as if searching for the right thing to say. It made her stomach flip up into her throat. Then looked at her, his eyes wide with a newfound warmth as he sought a connection from across the room, as if he were seeing her for the first time. Ina knew right then that she needed to get him out before anything changed.

“Oh, yeah, sure, I know. And, well it doesn’t matter anyway, right? I mean it’s none of my business what you think of me - like I said, I knew some knockout drag queens, so it’s a compliment really. Ha so - “

Elvis stode over as she spoke and grabbed her hands, his thumb delicately soothing the top of her knuckles. The spicy smell of his aftershave entered her nostrils as he spoke in a low, soft voice.

“Here’s the thing now, Iny Beany, I just need you to know though that I didn’t say none a that. Ya right, them boys still in high school, and they been playing pranks like we’re still in high school. I guar-an-TEE you they knew the assistant had just called for you, and they set that whole thing up to ruin my first sex scene shoot. Have half a mind to fire 'em. They need to learn some goddamn respect."

Ina found herself transfixed, unable to step away or pull her hands from his. She looked him over. He somehow looked like a cowboy who had let a bunch of drag queens dress him.

He wore a fresh pair of dark green slacks, a thick leather belt and a long sleeve white linen shirt. Over his hands sat several jewel-encrusted rings matched by the two necklaces that lay underneath his red bandana, tied much like a silk ascot through a cravat. His foundation make-up was impeccable, and his hair was styled in a high quiff perfectly slicked back above his forehead. It made him look cavalier and polished at the same time.

Then there was the way his smokey eye makeup was now smudged around his waterline made him look even more ruggedly attractive. Sweat glistened underneath his beard, almost like glitter. There, in the dim light of her motel room he looked like the prettiest cowboy she had ever seen.

“Know what I mean?”

Ina shook her head, realizing she’d gotten caught up staring at his scruffy chin and lost track of what he was saying.

“Um, I’m sorry, what did you say?”

A sly grin tweaked up the corners of his lips.

“I said, you cain’t listen to a word outta those boys' moufs, ‘specially Charlie. His elevator don’t go all the way up, if you take my meaning.”

Elvis stepped in closer to her, cautiously, waiting to see if she stepped away or flinched. But it was all Ina could do to just keep breathing, each stroke of Elvis' thumb over her hand now sent a bolt of electricity down her chest.

“How I could I say something like that about you, Iny? Ya so beautiful, I could barely look at you too long before turning into mush.”

Ina rolled her eyes, but she could feel her own resolve waver as his hand moved to her hips and a blush crept over her face.

“Stop, you don’t have to lie to me.”

He shook his head, his nose tickling over hers.

“How can you say that Iny Meany? You have no idea, no idea what you do to me.”

Ina’s heart skipped a beat when she felt his thumb at the indent of her girdle. The air between their bodies seemed to crackle now with heat, and he pulled her closer, nuzzling his nose over hers. A tear rolled down her face and he lifted his finger to catch it.

“Ssshhhh, s’ok baby, s’ok. I got you. And I promise ain’t no one gonna talk like that about you again.”

He pressed his cheek against hers and she pushed back,willfully embracing the harsh scruff of his beard. She could feel herself teetering on the precipice of something dangerous. If she crossed this line with Elvis it would change the dynamic of their work together, it would change her reputation. She had vowed to herself she wouldn’t be susceptible to his charms, him, of all people. He was so obvious, so cliche. And yet here she was, nuzzling her nose back along his.

Emboldened, Elvis gently pressed his lips to her skin, peppering her jaw with light kisses. Ina eagerly moved to give him access to her neck and he instantly took the hint and suckled at her nape, pausing to grin as she moaned out a high, breathy unladylike moan.

Her chest heaved as their lips met and the faint aroma of mustard filled Ina’s nostrils.

“Oh my god, you taste like hamburger.”

Elvis chuckled, unsure of himself for a moment. Ina enjoyed watching him become self conscious.

"I’m sorry baby, you want me to go brush my teeth?”

She shook her head, pulling him closer and speaking between kisses.

“No - mmmm - it’s amazing — mmm - haven’t had a mmamburger in months.”

Elvis let out a nervous laugh.

“Ok, ya kook, I’ll be sure and eat hamburger every day.”

"Ha! I'm gonna hold you to that, Presley."

His fingers brushed over her thighs as he lifted her onto the dresser and Ina trembled.

“You ok? Just say the word, and I’ll stop.”

She shook her head, stopping was the last thing on her mind. Though she suddenly thought of crew members at the pool who’d seen her call Elvis into her room to apologize.

“I wonder what everyone outside thinks we’re doing in here.”

“Hmmm, whatever they’re thinking, I guarantee it's not nearly as good as what I’m thinking.”

“Elvis - I - I don’t want to have sex.”

He arched his eyebrow.

“Whoo now, who said anything about sex?”

“I mean, of course I want to have sex with you.”

He stoked her thighs, a faint smile on his face.

"Relax Iny, we’re just having some fun. Don’t overthink it. We ain’t gonna do nothin’ you don’t wanna do.”

Ina released a nervous giggle. “OK, you see, I um, well, actually the thing is that I sometimes break out when I - I do it.”

“Really? You know that Max Factor stuff will cover anything.”

“Ha! I know - I just think tonight, no matter what I say later, we should just keep it simple.”

“I gotcha Iny girl. Sweet. Simple.”

Ina’s pulse quickened at the way he leaned into her chest, his hands worked up from her thighs. She felt like a giddy teenager as she smiled gleefully into his face, her right hand fiddling with his ear.

“You have a great earlobe, you know that? I can see why you’re a movie star.”

“Huh. That right? Cuz of my earlobe?”

He leaned in and kissed the top of her nose.

“Oh yeah, it's very photogenic. I see why this is the only part of you in frame during the sex scene. I mean the rest could as ugly as Boris Karloff -” Ina waved her other hand in front of Elvis face. “But this lobe, right here, it’s a million dollar lobe.”

Elvis chuckled. “That right?”

“Uh huh. I hope you have it insured - oh god.”

Elvis' right hand moved over her breast, flicking her nipple.

“Hmm, well, maybe I should stop whateva this is and go call the colonel, get him right on that, uh huh.”

He moved as if to leave, smirking at how quickly Ina pulled him back into her arms.

“Don’t go.”

She squeaked out, voice cracking.

“You sure? You don want me to fetch a rattlesnake to kiss instead? See if you like making love to his earlobe?”

“Stop.”

Ina swatted him, straightening the line of his bandana.

“Please don’t repeat what I said earlier, I was tired and nervous and upset and I hate myself for that whole scene. I really am sorry, Presley.”

“I know, baby, I know. I'm just teasing.”

He pressed his lip son hers once more and Ina rocked forward into him, following the slow, tender rhythm of Elvis’ body. She felt like a buoy, still unmoored and adrift in the ocean, but now she didn’t want to come into shore. She wanted to stay like this, swaying back and forth to the ebb of Elvis’ tide, delighting in the wet smack of Elvis’ lips every time they smashed into hers. Again and again.

Her whole body buzzed when his fingers trailed down to her hem and absentmindedly began to work their way under her dress. He had notched himself between her legs, fitting snugly against her knee caps. She made a small squeak of surrender as she opened her hips to bring him in closer. The taste of onions and pepsi and meat filled her mouth as he took her with the tip of his tongue, slowly owning and consuming her completely.

Elvis moaned into her and deepened their kiss.

Ina lost herself in the sweet supple cushion of his lips. His hands moved over her bosom, fanning the spark in her belly into a flame. Then his fingers moved under her skirt and feathered over the warmth of her panties. Ina felt the bulge begin to swell at her thigh and then Elvis jerked back.

Every cell in her body cried out to pull him back into her embrace and then until he was inside her and they were melting into each other. Vows and boundaries be damned. Thank god he had some sense of self control.

“Whooa, whoa whoa.” He muttered slowly, almost painfully.

Ina nodded, licking her lips as she met his eyes.

“You ok?’

“Yeah, you?”

Elvis took a deep breath. “Course, honey, I - I - I just think we better put the breaks on for tonight.”

“Yeah, sure, no. Totally. This was exactly what I wanted.”

He wiped his mouth, shooting her an impish smile, like he knew exactly what she wanted.

“Guess I should clear out, huh?”

“You don’t have to leave, I mean, I enjoy your company. Is what I mean. But if you are looking to get lucky, then yes, I suppose you should find one of those extras you've been playing patty cake with.”

“Huh, okay, well I'll be on my way then. Catch ya later.”

But he didn't move, just stayed there hovering above her. His forehead leaning into her as he pushed in even closer, pressing the air out of her lungs.

“You do have a reputation to keep up. I understand.”

"Mhmmmm."

Elvis shook his head and went to sit on her bed, up against the head board.

“Look, I'm willing to put my reputation aside, jus for one night. I promise, no funny business. Clothes stay on.”

He smirked.

“Unless you’d feel more comfortable without your dress on.”

Ina hesitantly moved to perch next to him. She could still taste the mix of Elvis’ salty sweat on her tongue as she wiped her raw lips.

“That’s awfully accommodating of you, Presley.”

“What can I say, Iny Beany, I’m an open minded guy. Always say, if a girl wants to take her own dress off, who am I to say she can’t?’

“Well, if it’s all the same to you I think I’ll keep mine on. For now. There’s still time for you to make an exit.”

“Aw, now shut up with that exit junk already and get in here.”

Elvis pulled Ina down into the curve of his arm, and she sighed, embracing the cozy warmth of his body and rubbing her hand over the trim stretch of his stomach as he spoke to her in a soft, friendly voice.

"Alright now, I want you to tell me everything there is to know about you. How did the hell you end up in a god forsaken Elvis Presley picture, huh?”

“Hmmm, poor life choices? But Elvis, I thought you liked this film? I thought you were the one who made it happen.”

“Aw, well, sure, the first script was pret-tee fantastic. It was gritty and had guts, ya know, but then these damn producers been wittlin' it away to nothing, man. Chuck cornered me this afternoon once you'd left and started in on nagging me to sing the title song.”

“You don’t want to sing? Just the title? it would be so good.”

“So you like the way I sing, Iny?”

Elvis’ eyes danced but then he remembered what they were talking about and was solemn once more.

“Yeah, naw man, that would set it up as another Presley musical, the next they’ll be trying to get me to sing to my horse. No self respecting cowboy sings, you ever heard of a singing cowboy? Never seen John Wayne sing.”

“OK, sure, but what about Roy Rogers, Gene Autry, Hank Williams was the Driftless Cowboy, right?” Elvis leveled her with his blue eyes and pinched her side.

“Hmmm - guess you got me there. But it’s 1968, I’d like to see Gene Autry sell a movie in today’s economy. My boy my boy. Today it ain't no joke. Can you see him in The Good, The Bad and The Ugly?”

Ina tilted her head in agreement back onto Elvis' shoulder, she felt the same way she did sinking into a pair of comfy, worn-in slippers, and founding his chest as relaxed and welcoming,

“Trust me, I get it, I’m just grateful I don’t have to do a rape scene in this film.”

He squeezed Ina tighter, kissing her cheek.

“Yeah, me too, honey, real grateful. Boy. Don’t know why anyone want ta see that.”

“The old west ain’t what it used to be.”

“You can say that again.”

Elvis' arms closed around Ina tighter as they murmured the hours away, comparing diet pills, LA taco huts and favorite movies while their limbs easily intertwined into one another. The closest he got to undressing her was the moment around midnight when he stealthily undid her pony tail and played with her hair while she pretended to be miffed. Then he kissed her forehead and told her he had done her a favor, because it looked better this way, and she should just be a good girl and do as he said. Which got him a light slap and a big “HA!”

They spent the next hour enjoying a playful, cozy respite together in the dim orange glow of Ina’s hotel room. It was well past one in the morning when he gave her a parting kiss that turned into a series of parting kisses before he snuck back up to his suite.

Shooting began the next day at 7 a.m., and you could have knocked the director, Chuck, over with a long, pink gaudy boa feather as he found Elvis and Ina in good spirits ready to work. They exchanged playful barbs and their onscreen chemistry sizzled when they went through each sequence, pausing between takes for Ina’s chest to be spritzed while another batch of assistants dabbed Elvis’ forehead with dry unused coffee filters. The industry’s secret weapon against perspiration.

Elvis found Ina in her dressing room during a break and their lips met with stifled giggles as they kissed now with away from the ever present surveillance of the crew, laughing and talked into each other’s mouths.

“Oh my god, now you taste like bacon. I swear Elvis, you’re gonna have me off my diet and then I’ll swell up like a balloon and then Charro! will be a very different film about a cowboy and his pregnant saloon madam.”

“Baby, you gotta let yourself have one hamburger now and then, trust me now, I been doing this longer than you. It will help the cravings.”

Ina kept her mouth shut as she calculated that she had been in this business just as long as he had, since she began modelling at 15 in 1955.

“Ok. I give in. I have no willpower around you. I will have one hamburger this week.”

“Tonight, honey. Imma have you for dinner.” He winked. “Over for dinner, I mean. I’ll have one a my guys come get you and bring you up to my room later. ”

“Ok. Dinner. Tonight. Your room.” She grinned as she chased the taste of bacon on his tongue and the salty scent of his body as it enveloped her until a knock on the door brought them back into their roles on set as Jess and Tracy.

That night Elvis went through his usual routine after a shoot, which began with a shower to wash off the desert and the dust and the sweat of the set off his body. He took extra care in how he dressed, selecting a light blue dress shirt and a white suit, capping off his outfit with a small black porkpie hat. He doused himself in aftershave and the smell of Old Spice smacked Joe in the face when he came in to set up Elvis’ calls to Memphis and LA.

Once Elvis hung up his phone he leaned over and banged on the wall for Joe to come back in.

“You want me to get that sweet little Mexican gal boss? Alma?”

“Did I tell you to do that? That gal ain’t nothing but a big phony, naw man. Wait for me to tell you what to do, son."

Elvis stood up and went to slather more after shave on, exchanging one ring for another at his toiletry bag.

"Go down stairs and invite Ina up to join me for dinner.”

Joe let out a loud cackle. “What, Groucho?”

Elvis paused, taking in the look of disbelief on Joe’s face. His heart sank and he rubbed his hands over one another as he remembered how they all were howling at his jokes about her a few nights ago.

He hadn’t even really meant it. He’d just said those things after watching Alma and Flor look at Ina with envy during rehearsals. All he had wanted was to put them at ease, make them understand he was attracted to them. Saying what he thought they wanted to hear. But then the boys had chimed in and now they all thought she was a dog.

Elvis forced a low chuckle and ran his hand through his hair.

“Nah, man, not Ina - I meant Flor. Goddamn it, this picture messin’ with my head.”

He swallowed hard, thinking of the way Ina's beautiful big brown eyes looking up at him. They their legs had seemed to fit together, the way conversation had seemed to flow effortlessly. He smiled to himself thinking of the way she had blushed when he snuck into her dressing room. How her breasts had felt beneath as they ran their love scenes. He pushed away the pang of guilt for now and tamped down his desire to hold her once more. Maybe he'd sneak down to her room later if he could get away. But for now he had an image uphold. These guys looked up to him, and his control over them as their boss rested on the how cool they thought he was.

He snapped his finger at Joe.

“But I don’t wanna hear y’all calling her that no more. Tell the others. Like I said this morning, y’all shitwads talking like that is what got me in trouble in the first place.”

And with that, Elvis spent another night surrounded by people and utterly alone.

I don't really think I did Ina justice here, look at how great they looked together. We were robbed of their sex scenes.....

taglist:

@i-r-i-n-a-a @ab4eva @eliseinmemphis @richardslady121 @artlover8992 @ashtag6887 @karolshungary @j-v-9-2 @waiting4brucewayne2adoptme @notstefaniepresley @dollette02 @dkayfixates @everythingelvispresley @velvetelvis @moonchild-daniella @lialocklear @obsessionisthecure @louisejoy86 @arrolyn1114 @literally-just-elvis-fics

i don't really have a taglist for one-shots and I apologize if you don't want to be tagged, just let me know and I'll take you off.

#elvis presley #elvis fanfiction #elvis fanfic #elvis smut #elvis presley fanfiction #elvis #new hollywood elvis #charro!#banditqueenwrites

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mall-0-ry · 10 months

Note

I just read your fic about MC going back and am BAWLING like a toddler. But seriously, it was so good. If possible, may I request a continuation of that fic where MC returns to Twisted Wonderland after everyone graduated and are now adults? Please make it fluffy with a sprinkle of angst.

honestly,, i never planned making a part two of it, but your idea is ✨chef’s kiss✨ i do love a sprinkle of angst.

okay, i lied it’s not just a sprinkle. i accidentally poured half😔

this is a dorm-head x reader!

PART 1: When yuu goes back…

RIDDLE ROSEHEARTS

- He’s still thinking about you.

- He’ll never get tired of having you running on his mind.

- Riddle was visiting Night Raven College, he was there because Crowley has asked for him.

- He doesn’t know what’s about to happen, and he’s slightly nervous, but still shook of the feeling and walked down the hall confidently.

- when he entered crowley’s office, he found a familiar face he oh so missed dearly.

- his beloved, rose has come back in full bloom.

- you look mature, you’ve certainly become more gorgeous, he couldn’t help but stare hopelessly at you.

- He’s one love sick puppy who’s found his owner once again.

- he want to hold you and never let go.

- “ My dear rose.. you’ve come back..” he said as he smiled, he then reached to hold you but you simply backed away

- he was taken aback, he asked what was wrong, then you simply told him “ I’m dating someone.. “ and smiled.

- his heart ached, at what he’ve found out.

- “ oh.. is that so.. my apologies. “ he said as he rushed out of the office.

- “ I’m naive to think that you would welcome me with your ever so loving arms. will you ever look at me the same way as you’re doing to your Boyfriend? “

LEONA KINGSCHOLAR

- Leona’s became much more busy, than he was in NRC.

- He started doing those task’s of a Prince.

- Leona would often think back the time you’ve spent with him, which made him crack a small smile.

- He would cuss at the dreams he got whenever he woke up suddenly.

- he’s still very emotional, but he can handle it, just as better than before.

- Ruggie is currently working under Leona, as his assistant.

- When he got a call from riddle

- He never shot up from his office chair so quickly.

- You’re back??

- He couldn’t shake off the excitement swelling in his heart.

- so he quickly went to where you are.

- When he landed his eyes on you..

- oh boy.. you looked much more beautiful, you still look as stunning as ever.

- “ Oi, herbivore. what’re ya’ doing here?” leona said as he calmly walked up to you.

- he then hugged you tightly before you can even answer him.

- “ How dare you leave me here with a bunch’a memories. “

- But.. when you told him the news, he was put in a fit of rage.. but decided not to act rashly.

- “ I’ll never be the first in anything, even in your heart.. “

AZUL ASHENGROTTO

- He became an ever successful businessman, despite his shady business.

- the tweels would often comfort him whenever he remembers you.

- because he’ll often end up in an emotional state.

- At his big office, he sat there filling up documents. his gaze landed on a Octopus keychain you gave him, that’s attached to his Keys.

- It suddenly struck him to think of you.

- “ My pearl, when will you be back.. i’ve been waiting for so long.. “ he sighed. his thoughts of you diminishing as soon as he heard a phone call.

- It was leona. who knew he’d take the lead to reach out to him, does he need anything?

- When he answered, He felt like a brick was thrown onto his face.

- Kalim who was with him glanced at him in concern

- Azul ignores Kalim as he felt that the weight on his shoulders has been lifted.

- You’re back?? did the Sea witch heard his prayers? oh’ dear, thank you the benevolent sea with!

- Rushing to the college, bumping into riddle who ran away in tears, he didn’t mind it but made sure to ask him later on.

- He barged in to crowley’s office. and saw you!

- His beloved.

- He felt the same as riddle, a lost puppy who found its owner again.

- He tried to scoop you in a big hug but.. you moved away.

- “ Dear..? what’s wrong? “ he asked while adjusting his glasses.

- when you told him, he felt his heart shatter.

- You’re taken?? by who?! is all he is thinking.

- he was suddenly got forcibly grabbed by leona, and led him outside.

- “ How am i so gullibly naive. i thought.. that i was the one for her.. “

“ Che’ We all thought the same. “ leona retorted as he awaited for the others to come.

KALIM AL-ASIM

- after inheriting his father’s large Business, he turned into a fine refined man, with a cheeky side.

- He and Azul we’re talking about their upcoming business collaboration

- But suddenly, Azul rushed off after getting a phone call from Leona.

- He simply followed him and brought out his magic carpet so he doesn’t get tired from running after Azul.

- Upon realizing that the route to where azul is heading, his heart dropped.

- tons of thoughts swirled through his brain, as his eyes stayed widen in shock.

- Getting off the carpet, Kalim walked up to the tired azul, who is heaving for air.

- “ What’re we doing here? “ Kalim asked in a cheerful tone.

- Azul shrugs him off as he walked towards the entrance of the College building.

- He and azul started running once again. (is this a marathon?)

- Bumping into riddle who’s face is clearly stained with tears, he stopped and let azul go first, as he comforts his Dear Friend.

- Kalim gave riddle a handkerchief as he pats his back.

- Asking tons of questions, only for riddle to not answer any of them.

- He sighed.

- He then smiled cheerfully and said.

- “ Riddle, cheer up! i’ll treat you to the new and famous pastries shop later! wait for me here, yeah? “

- He Joyfully said as he walks away from riddle to continue down to where azul went off to.

- Wait.. what? why is Leona and Azul coming out of Headmage Crowley’s room with such.. sad expressions?

- He shrugged it off and continued.. with a heavy heart he pushed the door and went inside.

- what..? is he dreaming? what are you doing here?

- shouldn’t you be.. no..

- he shook off his thoughts as tears swelled up in his eyes, a big and bright smile painting over his face.

- He shouldn’t doubt your presence here. he should be happy.

- he ran towards you and tacked you onto the ground, with a loud thud.

- “ Jewel! i thought i would never see you again i—“

- he looked down.. on your hand.. specifically your ring finger.

- a promise ring?

- his heart broke.

- nevertheless he still smiled.

- “ Oh.. uh.. sorry jewe— Yuu, i was caught up in the moment.. haha.. “ he shifted away awkwardly as his eyes dimmed to a dull color. with a forced smile stretched onto his face.

VIL SCHOENHEIT

- was already on his way to NRC.

- Dressed so fancily, because he just left an event early to come see you.

- he was honestly the first one to know, since the others didn’t pick up crowley’s phone call.

- He was extremely excited, oh the bountiful dresses and clothes he bought for you years ago.. he can finally see you wear them.

- Oh how his delicate hand went to dial up the restaurant you and him used to frequent to, to reserve a sit for you and him.

- Vil schoenheit wasn’t backing down. since you’re here he can finally show you his affection for you once again.

- Once he arrived, he greeted the three Old Dorm-Leaders with a smile the three shuddered and smiled back forcefully.

- barging in the room to create some good entrance for himself.

- he spotted Kalim awkwardly standing 5m away from you.

- He smiled at you.

- You still look as beautiful as ever, your beauty still rivaling the Evil Queen.

- He bowed down in respect and walked confidently towards you, an outstretched hand waiting for you to hold.

- You stayed stiff as you awkwardly smiled at him.

- ‘ ..Vil.. it’s so good to see you again.. ‘

- Vil shrugged it off and let his hand down gracefully onto his sides.

- “ My Dearest Potato, you have came back.. i’m relieved.. “

- Vil scanned you up and down, His eyes trailing over to every inch of your body and face, as his eyes landed onto your hand, noticing a ring..? what’s that? a promise ring?

- He gasped.

- quite loudly.

- “ My dear? are you betrothed to someone else?? ”

- you denied it and said, that it was only a promise ring that you go from your significant other.

- his heart ached.

- his face grew dark as he stared you down.

- calming himself down.

- he sighed

- He knew that.. you would find someone else

- He knew that he or the others couldn’t take the place in your heart once you returned to your world.

- But being selfish made him feel like he had a chance.

- why did things have to be this way.

IDIA SHROUD

- Idia watched everything go down on his tablet.

- He bit his lips in anxiety and sadness.

- His pale blue lips shuddered at how you casually told everyone that you’re seeing someone else, instead of one of them.

- He was too stubborn to let go of the memories you and him built.

- On how he would wake up with you in his arms, tucked neatly between them, while shuffling near to his chest for warmth.

- On how you’d hold his hand underneath the table when you and him are lab partners.

- many more of those sweet yet bittersweet memories are all he could remember.

- all he could think of are “what ifs”

- He eyes went shut as he exhaled a deep breath.

- behind the muted floating tablet, in crowley’s office. is Idia wallowing in sadness.

- “ Y/N guess i wasn’t able to beat the boss to obtain your love. “

MALLEUS DRACONIA

- Malleus was simply walking around his Palace’s hallway, gazing upon the portrait he had ordered to be painted, a portrait of you.

- he would always pass by this hallway every day for.. 5 whole years.

- using his magic, he casted a spell of illusion, to make it seem like the portrait is alive.

- He danced with the illusion, as bits of green particles surrounds him.

- He knew that Lilia will scold him if he continues to neglect his work as the King of Briar Valley.

- But he couldn’t help but spare a bit of time to see your ethereal beauty.

- Heart full of woe. he continued on his day.

- Sebek barged in his office in frantic

- Lilia, Silver and malleus who were casually talking to each other looked at sebek in confusion and interest.

- “ Your highness, General Vanrouge.. and Silver, i’ve received news that.. They’re back. “

- oh how a single sentence could send him up on his own feet.

- excitement bubbling in his very heart.

- He turned to everyone in the room and teleported instantly.

- oh how he knew who sebek was talking about. he couldn’t help but thank the Thorn Fairy for giving him such a miracle.

- Green elemental particles wafted around the office, seemingly making everyone in the room shock on his sudden arrival.

- He stepped forward, with a huge grin on his face, his hand reach out to hug them tightly so they won’t be able to run away anymore.

- how his face nestled onto the crook of their neck

- He finally feels at home in your embrace.

- As he parts away from you slowly, his smile never ceases to shine

- You simply stood by awkwardly, as vil facepalmed and Kalim inching closer to the door.

- upon sensing your discomfort Malleus concerningly placed his hand on your shoulder

- he had asked you multiple times if you’re alright, and all you could do is nod.

- He studied your every move, your every expressions, he looked you up and down

- seemingly only finding out the ring on your finger

- his face showed disappointment, only to be masked by a small and forced smile

- But everyone knew about his disappointment as clouds started getting even more darker, and thundering.

- Clenching his fist tightly, vil went up to malleus and patted his back in comfort before excusing all four of them(including idia’s floating tablet) out of crowley’s office.

- “ Schoenheit i feel like a fool. everyday i would dream of dancing with them, and having them by my side… “

- “ But it was simply once upon a dream. “

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bonnibuckets · 9 months

Text

— ambivalent | leon kennedy

synopsis: falling for your fwb isn't the greatest idea

content: leon x gn! reader, fwb, implication of sex, angst no comfort, slight violence, ooc possibly lol

words: 1.2k

note: sorry again for being inactive ALSO I found out how to do a gradient on text @kennedyswhore thank you for showing me!! also credit to @dilfverz for the “mature images” that i’m using taglist 🏷️: @ghostkennedy @adaelines @konigbabe @meowsiee @antidesire @alewesker @d34ng3l

You knew deep down that getting involved with him was dangerous, but you ignored the gnawing feeling in your stomach. In the same way that you ignored your feelings whenever he kissed you but fell to his knees when he saw Ada. Or how he would cast you aside whenever she needed him, and even the feeling that tugged at your heart when the sheets were empty when you woke up in Leon’s bed.

By touch and by smell you’d know him blind and even in death, but you didn’t know if he could say the same. You knew this isn’t what you wanted or deserved, but you couldn't walk away, he was intoxicating, and you couldn't stop yourself from reaching for your fix.

—

You were staring off as Leon kissed your neck and his voice broke you out of your trance. “Sorry,” you said manually blinking for a second before turning to him. “You've been off lately,” he caressed your cheek tenderly. It was as if he cared about your feelings and not that his plaything wasn't having fun with him. His touch was supposed to be comforting, but it had the reverse effect on you, you tried not to jerk your body in the opposite direction “Just been in my head” you said trying to avoid the topic.

A voice in your head was screaming at him not to push it anymore– scared of where it might lead. It was becoming harder to ignore as Leon kept poking and prodding, “Come on tell me” he said pushing hair behind your ear. You quickly tried to form a lie but you were frozen like a deer in headlights. You were struggling to find the words as your throat let out strange noises.

You knew you couldn’t keep pretending and lying to yourself “I-I” you stuttered and looked away– ripping yourself from his touch and warmth. “Love,” you said in a broken sentence, broken like how your heart felt. You debated not saying anything after that but you’d already opened your mouth so you figured enough damage was done already “Y-you”.

The silence that followed was deafening and you didn’t know what to do, you were completely paralyzed by what came out of your mouth and what Leon would say or do.

It seemed like hours had passed before he spoke, “We talked about this” he said sounding annoyed. “I know” you whispered, you knew of what you agreed on– what deal you made, a deal with the devil. You got to have what you most wanted– which was Leon but at the expense of your heart.

“Then why did you say that” he groaned getting up, you panicked and it was clear in your voice “I-I didn’t mean to!” you pleaded as tears formed in your eyes. You couldn't handle another cold night alone. You wished Leon would've miraculously developed deeper feelings for you and opened his eyes, but he’d much rather remain blind by his ignorance. You hoped he’d laugh and wrap you in his arms as he’d say “I love you too”. You prayed that his heart secretly wanted you and that this was all an attempt to save himself some face, but alas your wishes and prayers were futile.

Leon didn’t love you the way you loved him and you both knew that.

He chuckled and you felt the gravity weigh on your heart, “You didn’t…really think that I loved you right?” he said softly smirking. You knew what he was doing, he knew you’d play along to not upset him– his little perfect toy. Tonight was going to be different though– something inside you snapped and you couldn't stand to look at him. “I didn’t but I hoped you did," you said, biting the inside of your cheek. “What?” he questioned and looked down at you, “I’m done,” you said calmly as you swung your feet off the bed.

You collected your things as Leon stood there confused, you tried to walk out but he stepped in front of you. “Move please,” you said too tired to fight, “No we’re not done,” he said mostly to himself as if he was trying to convince his mind. “I want to leave,” you said feeling a little scared– an avalanche was forming and you could practically see it coming your way.

“N-no” his voice was unsteady, maybe because he knew his toy was tired of being played with— or maybe his ego was too high to realize that he needed you. Someone to fill the void in his heart and to be there to lift him up, but he ruined the only chance he had.

“Please Leon,” you said looking down at your feet, you needed him to move before you changed your mind. Before you decided to wrap yourself back into his warmth that suffocated you.

“We’re not done” he repeated, returning to his ‘nonchalant’ attitude. “We are,” you said without much force behind it.

“Come on let’s get back in bed-” his voice was sweet like honey trying to convince you, but you wouldn’t fall into his trap. “No!” you said pushing him, “No more, I-I can't take it anymore!” you said as tears rolled down your face. “I can’t keep doing this! Pretending everything is fine, pretending that it doesn’t bother me!” you screamed holding your chest like the pain was physical and you were bleeding onto the floor.

“I can’t live like this, I can’t keep pretending…you love me,” you said finally looking up into his eyes.

He was taken aback and lost for words as you stood there and poured your soul in front of him. “I don’t understand” his voice croaked out, your brows furrowed and your fits tightened. “Understand what?!” you said, your voice gaining hostility. “I just don’t understand…where this is coming from,” he said chuckling.

Your vision went blurry as an avalanche of emotions washed over you as you lunged at him pushing him as hard as you could onto the floor, “You’re so fucking stupid!” you screamed and kicked him. “You think I was happy like this?!” tears were flowing and dripping onto him, “you think this is the life I deserve— to be treated like a fuck toy to only be discarded when I’m not needed?!”

The pain in your heart tenfold as you ‘gushed blood’ all over Leon, “You were supposed to be my friend for fucks sake” you cried and backed up. “You were supposed to be my friend Leon” you repeated thinking about everything and how it turned out. How everything went to shit, how he was your friend before a lover.

A friend before your feelings turned into more.

A friend before lips met one another.

A friend before warm flesh clashed and melted together.

A friend before he ripped your heart out.

You walked away as Leon sat on the ground and didn’t fight for you to stay anymore, he knew it was over. He knew the friendship, the ‘love’ that was there vanished— all thanks to him. He often tried to blame others or something for the misfortune that followed him around but this mistake— he couldn’t point the finger to anyone but himself. He’d gone and ruined something that could’ve been beautiful.

All because he couldn’t handle the truth.

#leon kennedy #leon kennedy x reader #fanfic #leon s kennedy #leon kennedy x you #leon kennedy imagines #leon kennedy imagine #leon kennedy fanfiction #leon kennedy fanfic #angst no comfort #leon kennedy angst #leon #resident evil leon kennedy #resident evil leon

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dracaesusurro · 1 year

Text

May Eywa be our witness pt3

Pairing: Netayam x female reader

Genre: fluff, little angst, mating mentions, sensual scenes, mature

Summary: part 3 to the last two fics !!!!!

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As she ran after him she saw he was about to get on his Ikran and called out to him, “neteyam, Nete wait, one moment..” she thought he would just fly off but he slowly retreated and walked towards her. She wanted to talk but he grabbed both her forearms and stared into her eyes. “Ma y/n you don’t have to go through with this, his delusional! You can’t mate with some water Na’vi you don’t love, what about your choice, what about me!?” You couldn’t agree more but what else could you do, “what do you expect me to do Nete? We can’t be, and if Jake found out it would be a worst fate then to mate with another…” he dropped your hands and scoffed lightly “a worst fate then watching the one you love mate with a stranger, anybody who’s not you? Are you hearing yourself y/n?! This is absurd” he expresses this looking deeply in your eyes hoping you’d meet him half way, when you stay silent, much to his dismay he begins to walk away, back to his Ikran.

“Why do you keep doing this? Putting the worlds decision on my shoulder, why do you enjoy my pain neteyam!?” She is exhausted, of being composed, the understanding one, the one who listens and takes it all. “I don’t ever enjoy your pain, understand me, see me, your pain is my pain my y/n! Why do you insist otherwise” there’s a minimal space in between the two yet it feels yards away, years even. He feels years away. “Then why can’t you see my point, I’m trying to save you from my fate why do you have to be so goddamn stubborn” she’s in tears yelling yet her voice is not as loud as she’d like it to be, it’s faint. “Because I love you, what kind of life do you expect me to live without you huh” he lifts your chin with his hand, getting you to look at him, he studies your face, the other hand on your waist keeping you balanced, “a world without you, isn’t a world suitable for me, listen, hear me, I give myself to you for life, I am yours mind, body and soul. Damn whoever that says otherwise, if we have to fight for our love then I’m willing to do it with my life but I need you by my side, you need to choose me…”

His words felt like a prayer, a healing force, stitching your bleeding heart. You leaned into his touch kissing the palm of his hand, he smiled at you, a smile sweeter than the worlds nectar and you felt a laugh erupt from deep within, a watery happy laugh. “Your wiser than you let on my Neteyam, so wise-” your hands trailed up his chest “so brave” cupping his cheek “so mighty” your fingers tangled in his hair “and so, so beautiful” you breathed out and he could only stare at you, still waiting upon you answer, admiring everything about you silently and so you continued “my life began when I met you, my heart beat for the first time when I saw your smile and my world changed by your first touch. Your world is mine and I am as every bit yours, mind body and soul, I was yours from the first hello” you took a break, caught your breath and brought your face closer to him “I’ll fight with you, I’ll fight the world, the demons, anyone who stands in our way neteyam I’ll fight them for you, Nga yawne lu oer ma neteyam” your foreheads lent against each other a laugh escaped your lips and he soon followed, a relived laugh, happy, hopeful, free.

You didn’t know where the world would take you from here but you Followed him, you trusted the great mother and you let him lead you. He flew you to a river, a breathtaking sight, it was his favorite place he said a place he seeks to hide, to calm himself, a place he needs when he doesn’t have you. He sat you by a tree, golden branches glowing in the black of the night, it was a dream, it all seemed like a dream.

Your head was tilted up admiring the beautiful branches, he was silent, you looked down to see him staring at you “what are you staring at?” You asked teasingly with a genuine smile. “At the most beautiful sight I’ve ever seen” he had a way with words, he knew it and so did you. “Oh stop it, you’re being foolish” you giggled looking away from him, your ears a crimson color. “Foolish?! Come here I’ll show you foolish you beautiful girl” before you could react he pulled you into his lap kissing you all over the face and neck, little kisses straying fast but as your laughter died down, so did his speed. He left memories with each kiss, behind your ear, your jaw, your neck, and back up to your face. “Neteyam, I choose you” you stare into his bright eyes, your hands around his neck, “I chose you a long time ago yawne” you brought your lips to his, a slow motion turned passionate his tail brushing against your waist and up your arms before yours began to entangle with his, neteyam leaned forward laying you down on the bed of grass, he looked at you, you grabbed your queue and held it towards him smiley silently your lips inches away from his. He connected his to yours and when you felt the bond a gasp left both of you, a sudden electric motion running through your bodies, neteyam was quick to bring his lips down to yours his hands roaming your body, a moan escaped you lips vibrating against his mouth, this only made him deepen the kiss further, there was nothing between you, no space, the two of you molded into one. With every motion a sound escaped your mouth and that only fed Neteyam’s pride.

As you pulled away you could see the happiness radiating off Neteyam’s body. He looked up at you and smiled, it was almost a sheepish grin, “I was yours mind and soul before but you can add body to the list now” he chuckled his voice sending waves of heat into you heart. “Nete..” you gasped slapping his arm.

He smiled widely before shoving his head into the crook of your neck to savor this moment and you with it, he took a deep breath and laid with you, you relaxed under his grasp, during your moment all you could think about was your love for him, but there are things that had skipped your mind, “neteyam..” you stared off carefully not wanting to anger him, he rose his head to look into your eyes, you cupped his face and stared for a moment. He sat up slightly worried at your features, you hadn’t noticed your frown having been lost in thought. “What is it my y/n what’s in your thoughts?” You didn’t want to ruin this moment but you had to bring it up, it was inevitable.

“What am to do, with the arrangements?” His soft Look faltered, the reminder brought him rage, but when he looked at you all those feelings vanished, he could only feel your love, “whatever we have to do we’ll do it together. You are my mate, we’re bonded for life, they can’t separate us ever” he kisses your forehead softly then your lips, you close your eyes and sigh.

“I’m never going to get used to these kisses, they’re becoming a life source for me” you chuckled leaning your forehead against his chest, his touch relaxed every worry you’ve ever worn.

“I am yours entirely, all these kisses are reserved for you and only you, for the rest of our lives, I promise this to you, may Eywa be our witness”

“Ma neteyam, my eternal love is promised to you, may Eywa be my witness”

He hugged you tightly against his chest leaving his chin on top of your head, “if only you could promise to not be so damn hot headed, your way too stubborn you worry me too much yawne”

A loud laughter erupts from you, his remarks genuine but his reached too deep, “ oh you and I both know that’s a promise I can’t keep not even in the name of Eywa” he laughed along with you, kissing your shoulders, his voice was a melody, music to your ears, that hug lasted an oblivion in your mind. And so did your bond.

Thank you for reading❤️❤️ total power couple here, there is not way in hell his letting Jake mate her off!!!!!

Leave any requests you have for more stories!! I’ll try to get to them all.

#neteyamseries #neteyam avatar #neteyam angst #neteyam fic #neteyam x oc #neteyam x reader #neteyam #avatar fic #avakinlife #avatar the way of water #avatar #fanfiction

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typingdyslexiaisathing · 1 month

Text

The Love of Pride (Obey Me!) fic

content: Lucifer X reader fanfiction. Romance, established relationship, mature subject of sexual intimacy and making love.

Lucifer took his time gazing at you. His bedroom filled with the soft sounds of your breathing. His own naked frame lounging on the bed with a chilled glass of Demonus as his red hues took you in. What little light that filtered in tracing over your own bare skin. He smiled to notice how you had fallen asleep after that last round of making love. Since the two of you had been in his room for several hours by now. Completely your fault if anyone asked him.

A huff of a chuckle escaped Lucifer's lips before he sipped at the cold liquid. Those scarlet eyes gazing at you with complete contentment and unconditional love as he sighed. He had stopped asking himself how you had captured his attentions a long time ago by now. Instead choosing to savor what the two of you might savor together. His simple and secret ways of hinting at his feelings leading to these moments of bliss. Tonight, you had deemed to tell him to stop working and do some self care instead. Which had led him to whisking you into his arms to kidnap you to his bedroom. Clothes soon stripped of both your frames as he spoke molted words of desire against your ear. Lucifer had taken his sweet time being slow and meticulous with you. Touching your body in ways that made you moan his name through parted lips. His kisses over you given in sacred worship of making you breathe out his name like a prayer. Lucifer gave you a slow kind of torture to send both of you to bliss over and over. Which had left you fully sated and half conscious as Lucifer held you close.

Lucifer soon drained his glass to hear you shift in the bed. His smirk one of playful mirth as he gazed at your face. Your eyes meeting his for his wings to give a shiver of delight. "It seems you finally woke up. Perhaps next time you will think twice before telling me to stop working. Now then, my darling little lamb. I think it is time I devoured you."

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jurdanhell · 1 year

Note

Okay so basically, I was re reading the chapter where Cardan asks Jude “and is it out of your system?” And Jude’s like “oh yea yea totally” sis, we all know that’s LIES 😂. I was just trying to imagine an alternate scene thinking.. what if she says no? Idk about anyone else but I think it would lead to basically chapter 15 part 2 so I was wondering if you could write a filthy something something 😂🥴 (like I mentioned before, no pressure)

I Will Know Nothing (Until I Know You)

Read it on AO3!

Word Count: 1,432

Rating: Mature

“And is it?" He asks. "Out of your system?”

I think of the blusher mushroom, the deathsweet, the wraithberry running through my veins with equal measure ferocity and instinct. We are alike in this way.

“No,” I say, because the indulgence of poison is one that I know greater than anything else.

I am unlearned at love and its making, but no matter how obvious that is to him, he does not let it show. Not when he guides my hands so carefully over him. Not when he redirects my nails to claw again at his back as he brings his mouth to the tender space just behind my ear. I suck my lip between the sharpest edges of my teeth, against the sound that rumbles in the back of my throat, because what this really is is a secret, and the more he knows is all the more he can use against me. I bite down on my lip hard enough to bleed.

The familiar sickness of poison roils through my gut, twinged with something else. A layer of sweat sheens over my skin and I am dizzy from the blood that rushes to my cheeks, my head, no doubt as diseased as what I’d ingested only earlier today. As infected as myself.

I tip my head back, again reminded of the things we’d done in that secret room behind the throne, and all the things we hadn’t. He brings his mouth to the hollow of my throat, pushing me back into the office in the Court of Shadows that I’ve taken as my own. He pauses only to push the door closed.

The dizzying absence from his hands on my skin leaves as quickly as it arrives, as though it was aware of how soon it would be replaced with another, equally intoxicating feeling.

Since my time in Faerie, I have grown very good at pretending. Pretending that my muscles do not sing from the acute pain from the swinging of my sword, pretending that it didn’t hurt every time I’d been made an example of being something lesser. Pretending that I do not feel as I do, hiding even from myself. I am not sure I keep the longing off my face, but with his hands drifting down the tie of my breeches, nose deep in the crook of my neck, I am not sure it matters.

Perhaps desire is like mithridatism, where I should be taking doses slowly, accumulating my body to the poison until it affects me no longer. Perhaps my overindulgence here will kill me as surely as any sharp blade.

It isn’t until he sinks down onto his knees, pushing the backs of my legs to the edge of the desk, mouth drifting across my navel that I decide that I do not care.

Religion in Faerie is scarcely discussed, brought up only with the slandering of poor fates and cursed as surely as any gambling man might blame the hand. There might have been gods, once, but anything infinite in an immortal mind is just as easily forgotten. But he slides my breeches down to my knees with such piety, pushing my legs apart with such reverence that I’m sure one of us has found it.

Something flutters in my chest as he brings his mouth to my center, looking up at me through his dark lashes. Not as though I ought to be the one praying, but as though this is the prayer. As though any noise I might make would make for choir, would carry the cadence of a hymn. He looks at me as though he means to memorize it, this moment. The shape of my very skin.

His hands move methodically against me, into me. There is strategy here yet, and I refuse to concede. I will not concede.

This time, I do not let my hands shake.

I bring one hand to his hair and knot my fingers so deeply I am not sure they will ever be free. I am not sure I want them to be. His tongue brushes flat against me, but it is the heat of his breath against my bare thigh that is my undoing. He moans my name against my skin, whispering dirty things I'm certain he would not say if his goal wasn't to make me give in. I will not give in.

I lean back against the desk, putting my weight on my elbow. I’m half-aware of something being knocked to the floor when he sinks lower to bring one of my legs over his shoulder.

There is an awful kind of pleasure in being granted what you’ve so desperately wanted, even if you’ve convinced yourself you didn’t. It seems we are both good at making terrible decisions.

This deep underground, it is too dark for plants to grow. There are no windows to allow moonlight to skim in, pooling like milk against the scarce furniture that was undoubtedly stolen for the home of thieves. That does not stop vines from snaking their way up the walls, cloying around any surface they can find purchase on. Surely, deep down in their making, they must know they were doomed to die the moment they sprouted. There is nothing for them here. No light, no water. No chance for survival.

That is what I tell myself as Cardan’s other hand slips beneath my shirt to palm at my breast. That is what I tell myself as I let him. There is no chance for survival. There is no way I would have survived this, anyway.

Maybe I can still take him down with me.

His finery is disarranged as I pull against his hair, beckoning him to his feet as I yank him roughly overtop of me, laying myself flat against the desk, my hair spilling over the edge. He looks dissatisfied, as though he were a cat whose cream I’d just stolen for no other reason than to be cruel.

I am, I know. But not for this.

His lips are swollen when I bring them roughly to my own, tasting myself from his mouth. It is a stupor that fills my lungs, my brain, working its way into my blood that controls me. My volition is not my own. I do not think it has been for a long while.

My hands go to his breeches, toying with the lace in the front, but not untying it. I do not know much, enough that he is aware of, but not so little that I am completely unknowledgeable. I refuse to think of the way he looked up to me, his mouth against the softest parts of my skin, drawing sensitive shapes with his teeth, his tongue.

A flower I do not recognize springs from the ivy that unfolds above us, a deep blue that might have been purple in the sun, trumpeting from its stem on the vine. Its yellow-white center does not shy away from the darkness of the room around us.

I move my hands to undo the buttons of his shirt with as much slowness as I can manage with his mouth working delicious cruelties over a soft spot on my neck.

The room is overcome with blooming buds in the darkness. One of my hands drifts over a knot of scars at his back, and I realize that it is not despite the darkness that they crest so fully, so openly, that it is in spite of it. That, maybe there is a kind of bravery in being so honest. In knowing the risks of a poison, and taking the plunge anyway.

He pushes himself against me in a way that is somehow more intimate than when we were both bare. It is not unlike when the clouds part from a silvered sky, letting the moonlight drink in the land, the faelights crashing up into the stars and melding into the air. Somehow, the unbrokenness of this moment is what is visceral, is so guarded by its profoundness that it will know nothing else. I am certain that when I open my eyes, I will see stars.

I am filled with a hatred so hot it warms me from the inside out, so bright that I might never truly be cold.

I hate that he is the one that makes me feel this way, and that the statement alone is as much honesty I can bare, even to myself. I am a coward.

My thoughts are splintering under the guiding action of his fingers, and I realize his clever poison is not simply along the sweat of his skin or tucked in between stolen kisses. It is in his words, his breath, and it is in me, too. And now, I am not sure I will ever be able to escape it.

Masterlist

i don't think i've ever written a first-person tfota fic. anyway i have absolutely nothing to say for myself. enjoy, sluts and whores <3

Tag List:

@cutekawaiihentaiboobies @cardan-greenbriar-tcp @slightlyrebelliouswriter23 @whoviantalibah @snusbandxknifewife @goddess-of-writing @storiesandschemes @thesirenwashere @aelin-queen-of-terrasen @andromeddea @clockworkgraystairs @hizqueen4life @highqueenjudeduarte @the-chick-of-the-air @dorkzrul @sassylunars @justabunchoffandoms @queenofgreenbriar @fandomfanatic987 @df3ndyr @brittneyal @woodsbeyond1 @clouds-and-peonies @mis-lil-red @firestarsandseneschals @b00kworm @bisexual-bibliophile @greenbumblebee @danaanruhn @acciomanorian @ireallyshouldsleeprn @vanessa172003 @janeslandrys @potterpasties @nahthanks @ahdiejajdjsiaksudjjssj @queen-of-demons-and-hell @thefolkofthefic @myunfortunatenightmare @reneereadsstuff @lordoftermites @figonas @aftg-tcp-soc4402 @dumble-daddy @greenbriarxrose @shadowhuntingdemigod @pollyaunt @kittkatandbooboo @savagelysarcasticsilence @romantic-loverr @teenyweenynightghost @bookcide

#i don’t know what to say for myself. so i simply won’t #jude duarte #cardan greenbriar #the cruel prince #jurdan #tfota #the wicked king #the folk of the air #the queen of nothing #tcp #cardan #tfota fic #jurdan fic #jurdan smut #jurdanhellwrites

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