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sissylittlefeather · 2 days

Text

We Can Make the Morning

(or Angel Take 7)

A one-shot

A/N: I've had this idea for a while and just decided to go ahead and write it the other day while I was watching Elvis On Tour. I hope y'all enjoy this 1972 Elvis x fem!reader one-shot!

Warnings: 18+ minors DNI, kissing, cussing, handjob, ejaculation, oral sex (f receiving), possible concussion

Word count: ~3.7k

Greensboro, North Carolina. You've lived here your whole life. And you've been an Elvis fan since you heard his first record at the tender age of fifteen. Now you're in your early thirties and you finally find yourself at one of his shows. You've never managed to go to one before and something about this feels like destiny. Still, the best you could afford is a seat at the front of the balcony, but you're next to where he'll walk into and out of the arena. If you push, you might be able to get a pretty good glimpse of him, and that's all you've ever really wanted. You dream of more, but you know better than to think he's going to notice you or anything.

April 14th, 1972 is show day, finally. You get dressed and try to ignore your nerves as you fix your hair and swipe on your makeup. You opt for your favorite bell bottoms and a cropped peasant blouse. It's not the dressiest outfit you own, but it flatters you and shows off all your best assets. Not that it matters much. He'll never see you.

At the arena, you make your way to your seat and try to survey whether you'll be able to get to a place where you can really see him up close. Eventually the lights go down and the music starts up. You head over to the railing, but there's a hundred girls between you and the tunnel. There's no way you can fight through them this time. You'll have to try again at the end of the concert. You head back to your seat with a new determination.

The show is incredible.

He's wearing a dark blue jumpsuit with a belt that has an owl on it, as he points out during one of the songs. Even as far away as you are, you can tell he looks amazing. His voice is on point and his performance is unmatched. You sit in silence with your lips parted slightly and your eyes wide. It's like he's made of stardust. And you're not going to let him pass by without seeing him up close.

He ends the show with Can't Help Falling In Love and then bows with his arms held out holding the silver cape. You know he's going to move fast through the tunnel, so you run to the railing and push your way through all the women gathered there. It's hot and hard to breathe and your heart is pounding. You're pressed up against the railing where it hits you just below the waist. Your position on your platform boots is precarious but you lean over anyway, just in case he reaches up. You feel yourself getting lightheaded from the excitement, but you're not going to miss this for anything, no matter how you feel. Just then, you see him headed for the tunnel. Your ears start ringing and the edges of your vision go dark. You can't believe it's really him. As the blackness envelops you, someone behind you pushes on your back and you feel yourself falling...

******

On stage, Elvis knows he's putting on a hell of a show. The energy from the crowd is electric and the camera crew seems excited by the footage they're collecting. In truth, he's ready to be done with this damn movie. Ready to be done with this damn tour. He enjoys the stage portion but everything in between is grueling. And honestly, the loneliness has been setting in pretty hard for him, especially in the middle of the night. Sometimes he picks up a girl at a show, but most of his encounters are empty. And even if he does find someone he likes, the conversation is lacking or she's so starstruck she can't do much more than giggle or try way too hard to impress him in bed. He longs for a real connection.

On stage, though, he lives his dream every night. This show in North Carolina is particularly satisfying for some reason and he comes off the stage with a smile on his face. He makes his way quickly to the car, heading for the tunnel lined with screaming fans. Looking up briefly, something strange captures his eye.

He reacts quickly without thinking, throwing his arms out to catch you just before you hit the ground. Somehow, you fall perfectly into his grasp and he holds you like a baby. He's stopped running, so his entourage encircles him to urge him forward.

"You can't stop here, man!"

"Put her down; let's go!" He looks down at you in his arms and realizes you're out cold.

"I can't! She's out, guys!"

"You're gonna have to drop her!" He shakes his head vigorously.

"No. I'm bringin' her with me." The guys make eye contact across him. They know when he's like this there's no arguing with him. He starts moving forward again with you in his arms.

At the car, the guys try again to get him to drop you with a security guard, but he refuses.

"It's my fault she's like this! I'm not leavin' her!" He gets into the backseat of his car, holding you on his lap. The other guys roll their eyes and squeeze in with him. It was a tight fit even before you were there, so now it's almost impossible for them to smash into the car. He wraps his arms around you tighter and holds you to him while the guys pile in. Sweat from the show slides down his face and he looks at you in his arms. The gentle lines of your features are intriguing and he wonders what your name is. For a moment, he forgets where he is and does something a little strange. He pulls your face to his and presses his lips to your forehead. That's when your eyelids flutter and you stir.

******

You sit up quickly and look around, trying to figure out where you are. You're in a car of some kind with a bunch of men you don't recognize. You try desperately to remember how you got here.

"Hey, honey. Are you alright?" When you hear his voice, you whip your head around.

"Oh." You answer breathlessly. "It's you."

He chuckles softly and his smile almost causes you to pass out again.

"It's me. I'm sorry, honey, I just didn't want to leave you there in that state."

"State?"

"Do you remember falling over the wall?" You cover your face in embarrassment.

"Oh my god..." He laughs softly again.

"Honey, it's okay. It happens."

"This has happened before?!"

"Well, not exactly..." One of the guys cuts in and you realize you're sitting on Elvis's lap with his arms around you. You fight to keep your composure.

"We're here, boss." The door opens and the guys climb out of the car until it's just you and Elvis.

"I'd like you to stay, so I can keep an eye on you. Is that okay?"

"I'm not sure it's necessary..."

"I say it is. Come on." You're not going to argue with him. He pats your bottom and you climb out of the car, followed closely by him.

On the sidewalk, you stumble a little, still woozy from passing out. He wraps his arm around your waist and steadies you.

"Do I need to carry you, honey?" The concern on his face is so endearing you almost melt into the ground.

"N-no, I think I'm okay."

"Alright. I'm gonna keep a hold of ya, though." You nod and he smiles genially. Then, the two of you make your way into the hotel surrounded by his bodyguards. At the elevator, he tries to dismiss them, and they refuse to leave him alone, but when he speaks sternly and insists that he'd like to be left alone, they listen and watch as he gets on the elevator with just you. Once the doors slide shut, he turns to you and puts both hands on your hips.

"What's your name, honey?"

"Oh! I'm y/n. I'm really sorry about this."

"Don't be." He waves his hand to dismiss your apology. "I just want to make sure you're okay. Do you remember if you hit your head on the way down?"

"I don't. I think I might've been out before I fell."

"You still might've hit your head." The elevator dings and the doors open. He keeps one arm around your waist and ushers you down the hallway to his room. You look at him in his jumpsuit and wonder where he might possibly have a key stashed. He bends down and pulls it out of his boot, standing and unlocking the door. You stumble a little walking across the threshold and he steadies you again, watching you with even more concern. Once you're in the room with the door shut behind you, he seats you next to him on the couch. You yawn and blink slowly. Somehow, you're exhausted.

"Are you sleepy?"

"Mhmm." You answer, yawning again.

"Okay. We need to keep you awake. If you hit your head, you shouldn't go to sleep."

"I don't feel like I hit my head." He reaches out and puts his hand on your cheek.

"I'm not willing to take any chances, honey." You nod slowly and notice that his eyes flick down to your lips. He clears his throat and pulls his hand back. You're a little surprised that he almost seems shy.

"You're sure I can't just lay down?"

"No, baby, you gotta stay awake." He looks down at himself and then to the bathroom. "I need to shower, though. But I hate to leave you alone."

"I really think I'm okay." He looks at skeptically as you yawn yet again.

"No. You're comin' with me. You can wear your underwear in the shower. I won't touch you. C'mon." He makes you stand up off of the couch and takes your hand, walking you to the bathroom. You want to tell him that you'd happily get in the shower with him naked, but you don't. He puts you in first, facing the back of the shower and then you hear him undress and get in behind you. You're dying to peek and see what he looks like without his jumpsuit, but he's being so kind that you can't violate his privacy like that. Still, the knowledge that Elvis Presley is naked behind you in the shower makes you a little crazy. Just when you think it can't get much more endearing, he starts humming. Your heart melts when his humming turns to quiet singing and you're dying to turn around and wrap him in your arms. He's so much more precious in person than you ever dreamed he could be.

You're lost in a reverie when the shower turns off and you feel him turn to face you. You can tell he's looking at you and you want to turn around so badly. Everything inside you is screaming at you to just turn around. But it's like you're frozen where you stand. When he kisses your shoulder, though, your head rolls to the side and you're desperate for him to touch you. He doesn't though. Instead, he whispers.

"You stay here, baby. I'll get you a towel." He gets out of the shower and hands you a towel. "There's a robe hanging on the door. I'm right outside."

You dry off and slip out of your wet undergarments, wrapping the fluffy robe around yourself. When you open the door, he's sitting on the couch with a towel around his waist. He looks up at you in the robe and swallows deeply. You sit on the edge of the bed and smile awkwardly. He returns your smile.

"I'm going to get dressed. Stay here and don't go to sleep."

"Yes, sir." He chuckles softly and moves back to the bathroom. You settle against the pillows and hastily break your promise to stay awake. The warmth of rest washes over you and your eyes close.

******

Elvis puts you in the shower in your underwear facing away from him. It's impossible for him not to notice your figure, though. The curve of your ass in your white panties about drives him crazy. He strips naked and turns the shower on. Through the whole shower, he tells himself not to get aroused just at your proximity. Once he's finished, he pulls the handle to make the water stop and then turns to face you. Your hair and your body are wet from the shower and he wants to touch you so badly that it almost hurts. Without thinking, he leans down and presses his lips to your shoulder. It's an indulgence he should have resisted, but something about you is intoxicating. He breathes deeply and pulls himself away to get you a towel. Once he does, he walks out into the room and sits on the couch. What is it about you that has him so out of sorts?

When you come out in the robe, it takes all of his self control to keep from ripping it off of you. But he wants more from this. He wants to know you, not just fuck you and move on.

"I'm going to get dressed. Stay here and don't go to sleep." You give him a salute and he chuckles, making his way back to the bathroom. After about thirty seconds, though, he has a bad feeling. He doesn't even get his pants on and walks back into the room still in his towel.

He was right. You're asleep.

He moves to the bed quickly and sits next to you, shaking you gently.

"Hey, baby, wake up." You don't stir and he starts to panic. He thinks back to how he woke you up in the car and leans in and kisses your forehead. Still, you stay asleep. He kisses your cheek and then finally, he presses his lips to yours. Finally, your eyes flutter open and he smiles. "You're back."

******

"I am. You kissed me."

"I'm sorry; I was getting desperate." He looks into your eyes and your smiles fade.

"Do it again." You whisper and he nods, pulling your face back into his. He crashes his lips into yours and the kiss moves to a fever pitch as he parts your lips with his and slips his tongue into your mouth. He puts both hands on your cheeks and you sit up on your knees, ready to crawl into his lap. Thats when he notices his erection under the towel. It's impossible to hide and he pulls away, looking down, and trying to push his cock down to make it less obvious.

"Oh, god, I'm sorry, honey."

"Don't be. It's okay." He shakes his head.

"No. It's not. I brought you up here just to keep an eye on you and now this." He's ashamed at his reaction to you. He feels your finger under his chin and you pull his face to looking into yours.

"Elvis, I've loved you for as long as I can remember. Meeting you? Knowing you? It just confirms everything I've ever believed to be true about you." He melts at your words and pulls you in close to him, kissing you deeply. But he pulls away again.

"I don't want to hurt you. I don't know if you should do... this..."

"Then maybe I can do this..." You reach your hand forward and run it down his chest to the top of the towel. Then, he inhales sharply as you move further down to where his cock is erect underneath it. You slide your hand under the towel carefully and take him in your palm. He moans softly as you begin to stroke him, moving his foreskin back and forth gently.

"God, baby, that feels so good. You don't have to-"

"Shhh. You've been taking care of me all night. Let me take care of you." His hips buck into your hand as you continue to pump him. He grunts and leans his head back as you move your hand a little faster.

"Mmm, baby..." He moans as you push his foreskin back and collect a bead of precum that's gathered there, running your thumb across his sensitive head. He leans back and lets you move the towel out of the way to free his cock and stroke it in the open. You pump him a little faster and he groans again. "It's so good, baby."

He feels your lips on his cheek as you move your hand on him and turns to kiss you. He looks into your eyes and puts his hand on your cheek, leaning in to capture your lips again. Then, he presses his forehead to yours and whispers.

"Thank you..." You smile and continue moving your hand up and down on him gently. He throws his head back and his hips buck again. "Fuck, baby, I'm gonna-"

A guttural groan rises from his throat as he cums, hard, and shoots his climax all over your hand. You pump him through his release and he shudders into your palm. He uses the towel to wipe your hand clean and then lays back on the bed.

You giggle a little and lay back with him. He turns and looks at you.

"I haven't been that satisfied with a handjob in years."

"I haven't given one in years." You smile. He rolls over and smothers you in kisses, forgetting for a second that you might be hurt. He pulls back and looks into your eyes, reaching down to undo the tie on your robe. His hand runs underneath it onto your stomach and down to your hip.

"Can I make you feel good too, honey?" You nod frantically and he laughs out loud. Then he stops and looks at you seriously. "Alright, just don't move around too much. I'll never forgive myself if this hurts you."

"I really think I'm fine." He sinks to the floor between your knees and pulls you to the edge of the bed. He spreads your legs, kissing the inside of each of your thighs gently. You moan softly as he leans forward and drags his tongue up your slit to the bundle of nerves at the top.

"Oh, god, Elvis!" You whimper as he continues to move his mouth on you. He swirls his tongue over and around your clit in tantalizing circles. The sensation drives you wild and your pussy clenches around nothing as he licks you. He dips down and pushes his tongue into your slit several times before slipping one of his long fingers inside you. You whine and arch your back as he pumps his finger in and out and goes back to dragging his tongue over your clit. The pressure of your orgasm builds as he works and you know you won't last too much longer. He pulls back a little and flicks your sensitive bud with the tip of his tongue, teasing your orgasm out of you.

"Cum for me, baby." He whispers, pressing his whole mouth to you and moving his tongue on you hard.

"Oh, yes! Yes!" You cry out as your orgasm crashes into you, pumping through your veins like electric shockwaves. He continues working his mouth on you as you ride out your high, your hand in his hair.

When you finally come back down and stop shuddering, he pulls back, wiping his face with his hand and laying next to you on the bed.

"Wow." He chuckles and looks over at you. "No, seriously, I've never had a man...get me there."

"Really?"

"I mean, they've tried, but never successfully. It's like I was waiting for you."

"Honey, I feel like I've been waiting for you too." He rolls over and put his hand on your cheek.

"What do you mean?"

"I can't explain it. Something about being here with you, feels like I was meant to catch you."

"It feels like I was meant to fall." He presses his lips to yours, kissing you deeply. You shimmy out of the robe and get under the covers with him. He holds your naked body close to his own, running his hands over you gently as you talk.

You spend the rest of the night in conversation and soft touches. He tells you stories about his life and listens attentively when you share yours. The connection between you strengthens with each passing hour and each soft caress and each sweet kiss.

When the sun peeks through the curtains of your hotel room, he pushes a stray piece of hair behind your ear.

"I think you're okay, baby. You haven't had any other symptoms and it's probably been long enough now that you would have."

"Should I leave?"

"Not unless you want to."

"I don't."

"Then stay. We made it to the morning. We can rest now." You nod and he settles on your chest. You're both asleep within minutes, wrapped around each other.

Eventually, there's a harsh knock on the door and someone calls to him from the other side of it.

"Hey, boss, we gotta be wheels up in twenty."

"Okay." He hollers back, groaning and stretching.

"I'm sorry I kept you up all night." You whisper.

"Don't be, honey, that's the best night I've had in years." You both get up and start to get dressed. When you're fully put back together, he grabs you and pulls you into a warm embrace.

"I hate that you're leaving." You mumble into his chest.

"Come with me."

"What? No, I can't."

"Why not?" You wrack your brain for a reason, but there's nothing keeping you here. Nothing that's more important than him.

"Okay." You look up into his face, your arms still wrapped around each other.

"Really?"

"Yes. Can we swing by my apartment and let me grab a few things?"

"Baby, I'm Elvis Presley, we can do whatever we want." He leans in and kisses you softly again. "You know somethin'?"

"Hmm?"

"I know I caught you when you fell, but I think you're the one who saved me tonight." He takes your hand to lead you out of the room and into your future. "My own little angel fell right out of the sky. I'm so glad you did."

******

The End

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Taglist:

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bsxcrxts · 2 days

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beautiful

Tech x fem!reader

MINORS DNI. AGE IN BIO TO INTERACT WITH MY WORKS.

Contains: reader has an afab body, feminine aligned lingerie descriptions, mirror sex, consensual and informed filming of a sex tape, reader who is insecure about their appearance, fingering, piv sex, teasing, questionable Star Wars terminology, fully armored Tech (touch of helmet kink?) and nude reader, Tech praising reader and being a bit of a soft!dom but nothing crazy, classic Tech rambles

Word Count: 2.9k. I was a woman possessed. Can't shut up to save my life

A/N: I'm crazy. He is literally pixels. Not proofread because I'm convinced I've gone off the deep end.

"I understand there can be an urge to be particularly critical of one's own body, but trust in my assessment that you're objectively very attractive," Tech says.

"I don't know, Tech, I guess I just don't see it," you pout a bit. "I don't think I'm 'all that'. What I've got is fine, I guess. But I have more flaws than features."

Tech's eyes narrow slightly at your phrasing. "In our time together, have I not sufficiently appreciated your beauty?" he asks almost softly, like the idea that he could have somehow contributed to this viewpoint unnerves him.

"It's not you, it's.... it's just the way I've always thought about myself, I guess."

"You are beautiful," Tech insists.

"Alright. Prove it," you answer almost playfully, knowing Tech will take it as a challenge, and curious to see where this will go.

"Prove it?" Tech repeats, and you can already see the wheels turning in that enhanced mind of his, "I can and I shall, love."

"Can't wait to see what you think up," you say, and kiss him lightly on the cheek encouragingly before the conversation moves on to something else entirely, and you put it out of your mind.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A little more than a week goes by, and you haven't truly thought of the conversation since. Your relationship with your looks isn't necessarily something you like to dwell on, instead choosing to somewhat ignore it and never address your thoughts about your body. Tech, however, hasn't stopped thinking about it; hasn't stopped thinking about ways he could convince you of your own beauty, to make you see yourself as he sees you. And it doesn't help that the idea that he's settled on is particularly filthy, either.

Tech already has an affinity for filming things. Anyone who knows him well will tell you that he's nearly always recording a holo, though he admits his typical motivation is far less scandalous and mostly for strategic purposes. Not this time.

There's a mirror sitting inconspicuously in the corner of the room. He's obtained a gift box containing a very special secret.

Now all he has to do is convince you to play along.

It isn't difficult.

"Do you remember the conversation we had about your perception of your physical features?" Tech ventures late one evening, after a mission. He's not even out of his armor before he can't resist asking. The tension between the two of you is already high; he's watched your eyes rake up and down his form twice in the past fifteen minutes alone.

You look up at him, curious as to where this conversation is going.

"Sure, I remember," you say nonchalantly, not conveying your eager nervousness.

"I believe I have engineered a situation where in I can 'prove' your beauty to you."

"Really?" you raise an eyebrow at him. "Okay, I'm listening."

"A good start... Perhaps you may even wish to do more than listen," Tech says, timber of his voice a bit lower than usual; his tone taking on an inviting and sensual edge, handing over the gift box to you. You feel your face flush as his tone hints at a certain suggestiveness unexpectedly.

This has not necessarily been an easy decision making process for Tech– he's generally confident, yet prone to overthinking when it comes to such gestures, and he hopes he hasn't read this situation wrong. He's comfortable with you, and doesn't want to risk making you feel uneasy or push you to dwell on your physicality unnecessarily. But it was, after all, your invitation that urged him to come up with a situation that 'proved' your physical attractiveness. Nonetheless, he's a touch anxious as you start to tear open the gift he's handed you.

The feeling melts away into a hopeful yearning as he watches your eyes widen and mouth curl into a smile as you hold up the delicate lingerie you've just unwrapped.

"You are beautiful, and the logic follows that you deserve beautiful things," Tech explains.

Your eyes dart over the fabric, or lack thereof, speechless for a moment. "Where did you even find this?" you finally manage to get out.

"Well, that was quite the endeavor. However, I am more interested in discussing whether or not you like it," he answers. "Perhaps you'd like to try it on?" he suggests, not at all inconspicuous.

Nodding, and quickly shutting yourself in the 'fresher, you find yourself staring at the sheer fabric once again. The cut is a bit like an extremely short dress, fabric only just hitting the tops of your thighs, and entirely see-though. The material hugs your chest, plunging far below anything you've ever worn where it ties in the middle. There's a matching thong that barely covers anything, but after you put everything on, you look at yourself briefly and think that you might actually look good.

Not wanting to keep Tech waiting, you emerge from the refresher into your bedroom, shyly crossing your arms in front of your chest, unsure of what else to do.

"Well, here I am," you gesture with a shrug.

You watch as Tech's eyes momentarily roam over your figure behind the amber filter of his goggles, before he pauses to look you in the eyes.

"Exquisite," he breathes, before the questions start. "Do you find the material comfortable? Is it a suitable fit?"

"I don't know if comfort is what the designers had in mind," you chuckle.

"Ah, yes. You bring up an excellent point. Then..." Tech pauses for a moment, motioning for you to step closer to him, and he guides you to where the mirror sits, propped up in the corner of the room. He stands behind you, lightly touching your bare shoulders.

"Does the outfit please you?" he asks lowly, and a heat settles deep in your stomach rather suddenly at his words. There's the solid feeling of his armor behind you, cool against your flushed skin.

Your face heats.

"Sure, I like the way it looks," you concede. And you do; it's a gorgeous set, a thoughtful gift, the way it lays against your skin is mesmerizing, and the way Tech is looking at you right now is striking a need within you.

He notices the way you don't compliment yourself, but the garment instead. But he also notices the way your heart is racing, and how you're looking at his reflection in the mirror. Of course he does; Tech notices everything.

"Thank you, baby," you say in his silence, twisting in his arms and planting a kiss on the corner of his mouth. "Maybe I could thank you properly for it?" you suggest playfully, running a finger down the chest plate of his armor, and it's cheesy, but you often enjoying how Tech reacts to an overt advance.

He seems to ponder for a moment, the corner of his mouth pulling into a slight smile. "There is another element of my proposition I have not yet divulged," he begins slowly, as if he is convinced he'll startle you.

"More surprises?" you banter a bit, but Tech is intensely focused on you.

"Would you like to see yourself as I see you?" he ventures, holding your gaze.

"Meaning..?"

"I would like to record us as we are intimate. I would like for you to see how beautiful you truly are. I would like for you to watch the holo when we are finished and know the adoration and lust I feel for you, mesh'la."

Your face can't get any more hot, blood rushing to your cheeks as you nod, agreeing instantly, wordlessly.

"There is one more thing. I suggest the focus shall be entirely on you this evening."

"Wouldn't say no to that," you laugh a tiny bit, self conscious. You're weak in the knees, leaning forward towards him, hanging on his every word, trusting him though your embarrassment at having so much attention on you threatens to overwhelm you.

"You're even more alluring when you're flustered," Tech confesses, and meets you in the middle, kissing you. For his reserved nature, Tech is a passionate lover, wholly dedicated to you, and when he kisses you like this, you moan softly against his mouth.

When the two of you part, you expect him to remove his armor, strip down as he normally does. But what you do not expect is for him to pick up his helmet and put it on, quickly spinning you around to face the mirror again as he practically drags you onto the bed.

"Tech, what–" you start.

"It is as I have just stated," his voice crackles through the helmet, his eyes intense, "this evening's primary function is to focus on you, and your beauty, love. This is to prevent distractions."

At this, you gasp. You have to wonder if he means that you'd be distracted by him, or if he'd be distracted by you and deviate from whatever plot he's clearly planned for the night. It's very difficult not to be caught up in his reflected image in the mirror before you, the lingerie against his armor painting a stark difference. You've never had him like this, your bare thighs bumping up against his own armored ones, your ass rubbing against his codpiece already.

It's a heady feeling, not knowing how his body is reacting to you, being relegated to seeing the emotions in his eyes only, reflected back to you in the mirror before you.

"Are you ready, love?" Tech's voice breaks your concentration over his body, as he raises a hand to his specs to being recording.

"Yes," you whine, sure you're ruining the scrap of lace that's passing for underwear you've got on, just from the way he's looking at you right now, and he starts recording.

Tech's left arm extends across your chest, palming your tits and pulling you securely against his body. He's still wearing his gloves; the image of the dark, rough fabric against the delicate lace of the lingerie makes your head spin. You watch in the mirror as his other hand leaves the edge of his goggles, trailing down, down, down towards your lower stomach, pausing at the hemline of your already soaked panties.

His touch is light, and you tilt your head back against his shoulder. In the mirror, you can't help but catch his gaze, watching him intently focus on you.

"Don't look at me, look at yourself," Tech instructs as he catches you eyeing him, and your eyes snap back to where his hand rests on your abdomen.

He traces his touch lower still, gloved hand suddenly cupping your sex, drawing his fingers across you still-clothed cunt. He's hardly even touching you, his index and middle finger spreading the fabric tight over your swollen clit, obviously eyeing the way you've already soaked the tiny scrap of fabric. Slowly, he drags a finger along your slit, feeling the wetness there before he shoves the thong to the side, exposing your dripping cunt to your line of sight in the mirror.

"Have you ever seen yourself in such a state, mesh'la?" Tech starts, almost smug. "I know I have evoked a similar reaction in you before, but I doubt you have ever seen the picture you make."

You shake your head slightly, panting as your eyes lock on the way the two of you look together in your reflection. Tech, appearing as composed as ever, the only visible part of his body his eyes, and you, practically dripping in scraps of lace in front him him. He has hardly touched you. It's sin, it's debauchery, it's perfection.

Tech's fingers slide across your clit, and your body practically jolts in his arms.

"What does that word mean?" you choke out.

"Which one?" Tech raises an eyebrow behind his golden google lens, and though you feel ruined already, you don't miss how his tone is blatantly teasing you as if to remind you of his enhanced mind.

"Mm–" you start, cut off by your own moans as Tech's still-gloved fingers rub your clit expertly.

"Enunciate," he comments, and you clench around nothing, Tech having yet to even tease your hole. He's playing with you in a way not unlike how you'd touch yourself if you were alone; but then again, he has always been perceptive, it's almost unsurprising he's memorized the patterns that please you the most.

"Mesh'la?" you repeat, more clearly, trying to focus. "You call me that, sometimes."

"It is Mando'a," Tech states, and begins educating you on the subject, despite his hand being splayed across your cunt and you in his arms. "Mando'a was the native language of the man who was the genetic foundation for all clones. As such, I have found it pertinent to maintain a basic knowledge of terminology. 'Mesh'la' means beautiful, and I call you that because that is what you are."

Your eyes wander to him in the reflection and watch as he explains this, keening against his body, desperately trying to get him to give you more. His intense stare meets yours in the mirror, and unable to help yourself, you let out a moan, turning your head in a futile attempt to kiss him, any part of him, helmet or not.

Tech doesn't allow this break in concentration, no matter how brief.

"You must pay attention," Tech scolds, and moves his hand from your tits to you chin, correcting your gaze. At the same moment, he slides two fingers into your dripping pussy.

It sends shock waves down your spine.

"Fuck," you gasp, writhing against him, skin and lace colliding with the hard plastoid of his armor behind you.

"Look at your pretty little cunt, mesh'la."

Tech doesn't talk like that unless he's becoming an unraveled mess himself. You see an opportunity in his words.

"Look even better with your cock inside me," you whine.

Tech's breath stutters behind you, and one of his hands leaves your body for a moment. You feel him moving behind you, hear the click of him removing his codpiece, and before you can even think, you're pushing your ass back towards him, grinding on his hard cock, finally able to feel him.

A soft gasp escapes from his lips behind the mask, and you barely catch the sound, but it pleases you all the same.

He swiftly removes the ruined thong that's been pushed to the side until now, then pulls at the ribbon at the center of the lingerie, undoing the delicate piece and practically tossing it to the side. You are finally fully exposed against him, and you suspect he is as unclothed as he will ever be during this particular romp, cock rutting between your thighs. Still, he doesn't push into your dripping cunt, just toys with you, running his cock along your folds.

If his intention was to take you apart as you suspect, he is doing an incredible job.

"Fuck me," you cry out as the tip of his cock catches on your clit suddenly as he shifts behind you. "Please just fuck me, I want you," you insist as you stare at your nude form in the mirror, the contrast of Tech's fully armored form with his cock between your legs causing you to try and rock down against him wantonly.

You catch Tech's eyes flutter a bit, and his cock jerks against your pussy. He wants to. But he wants something else more.

"Admit you are beautiful."

"What..?" you practically moan, momentarily forgetting how this all started in the first place. The blinking of his goggles recording the entire session flusters you again.

"Say how gorgeous you are, my love, and I will give you my c-cock."

The stutter is new; his resolve is close to breaking. But he wants.

"I-"

"Do you not think you look beautiful right now? You said it yourself; you will look even moreso on my cock. Say it," he says almost softly, encouragingly, the tone of his voice intoxicating from behind his helmet.

"I-I look... pretty," you concede.

His cock slides into your wet, warm cunt.

"I suppose that adjective is ah-acceptable, but you are more than just pretty," Tech insists, snapping his hips against you, and you watch as his cock sinks into you in the reflection of the mirror, gasping.

"You are enticing." Thrust.

"Stunning." Thrust.

"Perfect." Thrust.

You've never finished so soon. He's hardly been inside you for any time at all before you're clenching around him at his words, moaning his name and gasping as you watch yourself cum around his cock. Tech follows you not long after, pulling out and spilling across your lower back as he relinquishes any semblance of control he's had during the session, moaning your name.

He quickly ceases recording, removing his helmet and softly laying you down on the bed, also taking off some of the more restrictive elements of his armor so he could hold you, no stranger to the potential comfort you might need in the moment.

After a second, you smile softly, and still a bit shyly up at him, leaning in to kiss him as you had not been able to before. When the two of you break from the kiss, Tech is still gazing at you.

"You are very precious to me," he states simply.

"Thank you," you say quietly, tucking your head under his chin. "For all of it."

"Anything, mesh'la."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

a/n: um. so. any interest in a bonus drabble where Tech has you watch the holo? (idea courtesy of the lovely Ezra milfgreedo)

#tech ♥️#tbb tech smut #tech smut #tech x reader #tbb tech x reader #may the force have mercy on me for this one #tbb smut #tbb x reader #becca's bs

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shefaniquotes · 2 days

Text

“You can't even imagine the rehearsals leading up to that because she hasn't played with those guys in like nine years. They had to get in there and dust off the music and get it going again.”

“I was actually not able to be there at the [first] show, because I was officiating a wedding in Nashville. Right before her show started, our sister-in-law sent a link. I didn’t even know they were airing it on YouTube. I was like, ‘Oh my God, this is great.’ I made myself a drink and I sat there and watched the entire concert. I watched every second of it.”

“And I swear, I told her that was the greatest concert I've ever seen. The amount of people there, how engaged they were. I've just never seen anything like it. And I've never seen Gwen perform like that. It's a different kind of performance with No Doubt, than when it's Gwen. It’s like watching a football team do their thing all together up there. It's just a different kind of energy.”

“You could tell that they just have that energy and that connection with each other. It was unbelievable. It was incredible. I can’t even believe how it felt just watching it on YouTube. I can’t imagine what it was like in person.”

“I am going to be at the second one and I’m really excited. I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

Blake on Coachella, E! News, Access Hollywood, Entertainment Tonight, April 2024

#blakeongwen #E! News #Entertainment Tonight #Access Hollywood #2024 #shefani

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mrsnancywheeler · 3 days

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can’t help but wonder what daisy has to say about billy and his muse… hmm. i feel like she’d have some words about muse’s age, how young she is, and since she’s always starting fights with billy to begin with i can’t imagine it would do poor muse any good. i think daisy would feel some sort of kinship with her because of their shared experiences with absent parents and getting into bad situations with people older than them, i just don’t believe she would handle it responsibly 💀 wanting to help muse develop her own sound and come into herself musically outside of billy dunne and the rest of the band turns into holing up at daisy’s place for days on end and getting ridiculously high together. and i doubt billy would be too happy with his girl showing up completely strung out after vanishing off the face of the earth for a week either. hanging out with daisy feels good but frequently makes things worse instead of better. they’re so interesting i love thinking about them

I'm literally sat for this, I've been thinking about this since it was sent it and need to doscuss with y'all

okay so timeline wise I imagine muse met billy when they were still just the six but like after they'd gained some fame. obviously in this universe there's no camilla, I'd never hurt my girl more, and so billy is just a ticking time bomb of fame and ego and all of his dreams. and he's good but not as good as he thinks he is so when teddy has the idea to give an edge to the six by a collaboration with daisy jones he's still obviously very pissed but now muse is there too, there relationship is probably like 6 months old or so.

and daisy is changing lyrics, she brings so much energy into the studio, she's fun, and muse is young and I think instantly drawn to the magnetic field of daisy jones. kind of in awe of daisy which billy can't fathom because he's too busy being miffed about the whole ordeal. and in this version look at us now is about muse and billy, and daisy see's right through the original lyrics and her changes make muse feel more seen. so she listens to billy bitch and moan but secretly agrees.

and muse definitely pushes for daisy to be in the band, "billy's an ass, but everyone thinks you should join. he'll get over it eventually and realize."

and daisy is just open and honest about her thoughts right off the bat, "why do you stay with him? if he's an ass, then why?"

and muse is taken aback but also honest back because it feels right, "I don't want anyone else. not the way I want him."

daisy does get to join the band and with that she learns a lot more about muse and billy, more to dislike about the arrangement. muse is so young and attached, the only other person she turns to is eddie who obviously also wants to be with her, and daisy feels like any spark that muse has is quelled to play cheerleader for billy. and she respects that muse doesn't want to be a star but she tells her to write, or to talk and daisy will cultivate the ideas.

daisy definitely gets involved in a couple of fights that muse and billy have. "plenty of groupies to go around, don't need one wasting my goddamn time"

"don't fucking talk to her like that!"

"daisy-" you're trying to deescalate because you knows daisy and billy just make the fight worse.

"she's a person, a child, not something you get to call whatever you want when you're pissed off." daisy's turning to you, "c'mon let's go get some air, away from this asshole."

"you can't just walk out of rehearsal, daisy!" billy's calling after but you let daisy guide you.

"watch me!" and you and daisy are sitting outside, she's handing you some pill that you barely question before taking.

"you know, it's okay, it's just the way it is. no reason to fight more because of it."

"no, it's not okay. you know just because he's older and gives you what you crave doesn't mean you need him, right?"

you pause, "I know." you sigh, "daisy, I'm not a baby. I can take care of myself, I know what's going on."

"sure you do, chickadee." and suddenly it's like something lights within her and she's searching her pockets for a paper of napkin, "do you have something to write with?" and she ends up scribbling something you're not allowed to see on a napkin with your lipstick. eventually she makes it a song about you. and then your though and frustrations eventually become many many more songs.

and once during one of the breaks where they've got some time rather than muse spending time with billy she goes to hang out with daisy, which ends up being the whole of the break. she's with daisy, screaming out every frustration into metaphors daisy is scribbling out as they dance around to records taking every pill daisy can get hands on, lines off every surface, so many bottles completely empty. and whenever you just want to call billy or sometimes eddie, daisy totally encourages against it because, "you don't need them!" and when it's finally time to go back to the studio daisy has started to realize she handles highs terribly but better than you, who's not used to taking nearly as much as daisy does.

once they're stepping out of that taxi, billy's first words quickly form from a, "where the hell were you?" to a , "what is she on?" hands softly gripping your face, looking into her eyes, knowing you're gonna feels like crap later. and he's gonna end up nursing you out of a bender, daisy's kind of scared that you were so out of it by the end. so it creates another conflict when she's saying billy is horrible to you and billy brings up how she usually gets you too high to function.

let me know y'all's thoughts bc I'm definitely already cooking up more

#wanda 💋#billy dunne x reader #billy dunne #djats x reader #anon

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