#I know the gif's out there but y'all missing out the best part

[aemondsbabe]

A Promise is a Promise

summary: promises & phone sex || tom's trying his best to make it home to you by christmas, but a snowstorm derails his plans

pairing: tom bennett x f!reader

warnings: mature/explicit, 18+ (minors dni!), no use of y/n, afab reader, phone sex, dirty talk, fingering, masturbation, breast/nipple play, very slight angst but happy ending, probably not historically accurate bite me, let me know if i missed anything!

word count: 2.3k

a/n: happy day eleven of 12 days of smuff and happy christmas eve to everyone who celebrates!! hope y'all enjoy this one! Can be read as a part 2 to Homecoming or as a stand alone!

12 days of smuff masterlist!

gif creds to @rxyl

likes, comments, & reblogs are very appreciated but never required!

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Your breath fogs up the window as you look outside one last time, sighing heavily as you watch puffy snowflakes rain down from the sky, scattering through the pale yellow shafts of light from the street lamps. You peer up and down the quiet street, frowning at the sight of all the twinkling lights and festive candles that decorated so many of the townhouses, feeling decidedly un-cheery this year. 

Deciding that it wasn’t worth it to torture yourself further, you pad up the stairs to your bedroom, trying to ignore the soft glow from the Christmas tree in the front room. Your footsteps sound much louder than normal in the quiet house since your parents were out for the evening, attending some holiday party at a friend's house, one that you were in much too foul of a mood to even consider attending. 

You’ve hardly had the chance to change your clothes before the phone in your room starts ringing loudly, making you jump. Sitting on your bed, you roll your eyes as you reach for it, expecting it to be your parents or some friend, calling half drunk from a party no doubt. 

“Hello?” You sigh, pressing the phone to your ear as you stare disdainfully out the window, watching more and more of the traitorous snow fall from the dark sky. 

“Well, try not to sound too excited.” A familiar voice chuckles, instantly making you perk up.

“Tom?!” Your eyes widen as you press the phone harder against your ear, “Where are you? Are you okay? I thought you said you’d be home this afternoon!”

You can hear him laugh on the other end of the line at your rushed questions. “Relax, love, I’m fine,” he sighs, you can hear springs squeak softly in the background, like he’d sat down on a bed, “The train’s just got delayed, ice on the rails or some fucking nonsense, and with the damn snowstorm, well…” He sighs heavily.

“Delayed for how long?” You ask, crestfallen. 

“Dunno, the man at the station said maybe a day, maybe two,” you can practically hear his frustrated sneer, “What with it being Christmas eve, everything’s just a damn wreck, apparently.”

“Oh…” You try not to sound too heartbroken, not wanting him to feel worse, “Well, did you find somewhere to stay in the meantime? I hate the idea of you sitting at the station.”

“Yeah,” he scoffs, “Some shoddy little inn. The train had to stop at some farming town in the middle of God knows where, but a bed’s a bed, I suppose.” You can hear two thuds in the background, no doubt him tossing his boots off somewhere carelessly. 

“I’m glad you’re somewhere safe, Tommy,” you smile sadly, idly fidgeting with the bottom of your night shirt, well, really his nightshirt, “I wish you were with me, though.” You whisper, trying to ignore the sad little squeeze your heart gave. 

“Wish I was too, love.”

The two of you sit in a comfortable silence for a moment, happy to simply listen to each other breathe after so many months apart. You really are trying not to let it get to you too much, but he only got so many days of leave from the RN and once he got shipped back out… you dare not think about it too deeply. 

There’s some rustling on the other end of the line and you furrow your brows as you listen, hoping the storm isn’t interfering with the phone lines too. 

“Tom?”

“‘M here,” he reassures you, springs creaking again as he settles back on the hotel bed, “Was just taking off my shirt.” He cooed, making you roll your eyes as you picture his playful smirk, your cheeks flushing as you imagined that cheeky little head bop that followed most of his lewd comments. 

“Now there’s a sight I’d like to see.” You hum, reclining back against the many pillows on your bed with a small smirk.

“Bet you’d be falling all over yourself for it,” he laughs, propping up a knee, “It’s a miracle you’ve lasted this long without it.”

“Without what?”

“My cock.” He answers, voice confident and cocky. 

“Tommy!” You squeak, giggling despite yourself, which makes him chuckle on the other end, “And here I was hoping months away would turn you into a romantic!”

“Fat chance, love.” He laughs heartily, smiling genuinely for the first time in months. 

Again, a comfortable silence washes over the two of you, each of you clinging to the phone like it was truly a lifeline, feeling closer than you have in months although you’re God knows how many kilometers apart. 

He sighs again, though this one makes you smile. It’s a familiar sigh, one he only does before he says something he knows will get a rise out of you.

“What’re you wearing?” You can hear his smirk, you can practically feel it on you as he speaks, his voice already low and raspy. 

You can’t help the tittering little giggle you let out, biting your lip as your cheeks flush further. “Erm, just your button down, actually,” you say, shy all of a sudden as you squirm atop your covers, “The one you wore in secondary some days… oh, and knickers.”

“And knickers,” he murmurs, quiet for a moment before continuing, “My girl in my shirt n’ I’m not there to see it. A real shame.”

“Yeah…” you whisper, fidgeting with the small buttons lining the front. 

“D’you have my shirt buttoned, love?”

“Yes?”

“You think you could unbutton it for me?”

The way he asks for it has your heart racing, excitement building steadily within you as you rub your thighs together, already seeking something to lessen the tension within you. Almost automatically, your hands reach for the buttons as you cradle the phone on your shoulder, holding it in place with your cheek. 

“Yes, Tommy.”

“That’s a good girl, love.” He praises, chuckling lowly as a small, delicate whimper just barely makes it through the phone lines. 

You scramble, all but ripping the shirt in two until finally the fabric falls away. You’re already breathing heavier, chest heaving enough to have the shirt slip off your chest instantly; your nipples harden quickly in the cool air of your bedroom, the small radiator only doing so much to heat the space. 

“It’s unbuttoned.” You breathe, squeezing your eyes shut as you desperately try to envision him doing the same. 

“God, I wish I was there,” he sighs and your ears perk up when you hear a soft tinkling in the background, cheeks heating up at the thought of him slowly taking off his belt, “I miss those perfect fucking tits, lovely girl. Got off thinking about them every night.”

“Yeah?” You ask breathily, your fingers skimming softly over your stomach, coming to rest in the valley between your breasts. 

“Mhm,” he murmurs, already breathing hotly into the phone, “Pinch them for me, pretty girl, yeah? Like I would.”

You gasp and quickly do as he requests, not being able to hold off any longer yourself. You whimper into the receiver as you tweak your nipples, your eyes roll back in your head at the thrill that shoots down your spine and settles right between your legs. 

“Fuck, good girl.” He praises again, sounding like he’s speaking through clenched teeth.

“What’re you wearing?” You ask breathily, lightly tugging at your stiff nipples still as you rub your thighs together, your center already aching, “What’re you doing?” 

“‘M rubbing my cock through my boxers,” he sighs heavily, “S’all I’ve got on.”

The thought makes you whimper again, imagining him cupping his already twitching length through the thin fabric of his underwear. Your mouth waters as you picture a wet patch near the tip, his cock leaking at the thought of you. 

“Tommy,” you sigh as your back arches into your own touch, “Can I?” 

Your meek question makes him chuckle. “Can you do what, love? You’ll need to be specific.”

You whine this time, biting your lip as your cheeks flush. “C-Can I…” you start, still feeling so impossibly shy around him sometimes, “Can I touch myself?”

“Thought you were already touching your tits?”

“Tommy!”

“C’mon, pretty,” he laughs, licking his lips as he imagines how cute you must look, cheeks all blushed with embarrassment, “Y’know what I wanna hear.”

“Can I touch my cunt?” You murmur, voice high-pitched and breathy.

“Fuck,” he breathes, head lolling back against his pillow, “Yeah, y’can, love, lemme hear you.”

Mindlessly, your hand drifts down. You don’t even bother to take off your panties, too impatient to go to the trouble as you shove your hand inside. A moan is punched out of you at the first touch, your core already throbbing as you glide your fingers through your slick folds. Tom groans along with you as your fingers finally begin swirling around your clit, your thighs spreading further. 

“What, shit,” you sigh, a shudder rippling up your spine, “What’re you doing now?”

“Got my cock out,” he rasps, his voice catching, “Thinking about you while I fuck my hand, God, I wish it was your tight cunt, pretty girl.”

You whine again, back arching once more as your fingers skim over your clit before dipping down to gather more slick from your dripping entrance. You all but see stars when you rub yourself again, core clenching around nothing. 

“Wish you were here…” You murmur, breath catching as you move your hand a little quicker. 

“Yeah?” He asks in a low voice, “What would you want me to do?”

“Fuck me,” you whine, wiggling your hips impatiently, like he was just at the end of the bed teasing you instead of lost somewhere in the countryside, “Want you to fuck me, Tommy.”

He groans, louder than he probably should in a small inn. Your face flushes when you hear him spit, imaging his cock glistening as he uses it to stroke himself. 

“Christ, I miss that pretty cunt,” he mutters, breath catching, probably speeding up in time with you, “Get a finger in there, love, fuck yourself like I would.”

Obediently, you do as he says, rutting against your own hand as you unceremoniously push two fingers into yourself, marveling at how tightly your walls already clench around them. 

“Fuck, Tommy!” You squeak, clit tingling every time your palm smacks against it as you fuck youself. 

“God, that’s it,” he groans, “Keep going, fuck, ‘m not gonna last.” He warns, knowing it’s been too long since he’d last had any privacy. 

“‘M not going to either,” you assure him, shaking your head to your empty room as if he could see you, “Feels too good, oh!” You gasp, your whole body tensing up as you crook your fingers up, expertly locating that sensitive spot within you. 

The two of you pleasure yourselves together for another few moments, heavy breaths and moans passing between the phones. Finally, Tom groans lowly again and swears through gritted teeth. 

“Fuck, ‘m gonna cum,” he pants, the slick sound of his hand streaking over his cock in the background nearly makes you unravel, “Cum with me, pretty girl, please.”

The whiny way he says please is your undoing and you finally break, calling out his name breathily as you arch against your sheets. Slick sounds fill your bedroom as you peak, breathless at the way your core clenches rhythmically over your fingers. 

Tom isn’t far behind you, his rough groans only adding to your pleasure. You whimper when he hisses out your name as he finishes, envisioning the way he paints his lower stomach with spend, cock twitching against his palm. 

You breathe heavily for a moment as you both come down before you dissolve into giggles, your sour mood from earlier almost completely gone. 

“Fucked you dumb n’ I’m not even there,” Tom gloats, sighing as he wipes away his cum with his boxers, too tired to get up and clean himself off properly, “You’re gonna make me blush, love.” 

“Tommy!” You groan playfully, admonishing him through a giggle, “You’re horrible.”

“You love it.” He laughs tiredly, yawning quietly. 

“Tired?”

“Yeah,” he huffs, the bed squeaking again as he makes himself comfortable, “Sorry love, s’been a long day.”

“I would imagine so,” you smile sadly still, twirling the phone cord around a finger, “I’ll let you sleep.”

“I’ll get to you tomorrow,” he promises, his voice heavy with sleep, “I swear, told you I’d be back for Christmas.”

“Tommy…” You sigh, glancing out the window to see snow still pouring from the sky.

“I mean it,” he murmurs tiredly, “A promise is a promise.”

You wake with a start, jerking up in bed as you look around blearily, unsure of what woke you. Your eyes narrow as you glance at the clock on your bedside table, too early still for even your alarm to be going off. 

You jump as you hear a knock from downstairs, someone pounding at the door. Rolling your eyes, you slip on a robe before making your way downstairs. 

“I’m coming, I’m coming.” You sigh, rubbing sleep from your eyes as you reach for the doorknob, tugging it open with a frown. 

“Wha–” You stop in your tracks, gasping loudly.

“Y’gonna let me in or are you gonna leave me out here to freeze my bollocks off?” Tom asks with a grin, laughing when you practically leap into his arms and pull him into a suffocating hug. 

“Tommy!” You gasp, clinging to him, “How did you, when did you?” You stutter, a million questions running through your mind. Finally, you pull back just enough to look at him, nearly crying as you at last look into his familiar blue eyes, “How?” You breathe.

“A very nice famer with a truck,” he laughs, holding you tightly to him, “Told ya I’d get home to you by Christmas.” 

Not being able to hold off anymore, you press your lips against his, feeling warm despite the cold.

tagged lovelies: @helloworldiamnotarobot @drakonflames @marysucks-blog @watercolorskyy @valeskafics @iamaegontargaryenwife0 @aemshaircare @1997babyyyy @lovellies @little-moonbeam-666 @blackswxnn @alerisc @fan-goddess @wickedfrsgrl @moonriseoverkyoto @echos-muses @schniiipsel @avidreader73 @marvelescvpe @imawhorecrux @grsveeth0m

(tags are based on your answers to my google form; if you were mistakenly tagged, please contact me & update your answers on the form! thank you!)

#tom bennett #tom bennett x reader #tom bennett x you #tom bennett smut #tom bennett fanfiction #tom bennett fanfic #world on fire #world on fire fanfiction #world on fire fanfic #world on fire smut #wof #wof fanfiction #wof fanfic #wof smut #fanfiction #fanfic #smut #my writing #12 days of smuff

[aaabsinthe]

Hi!! Can I request crushing and relationship headcanons for Junkerqueen with a fem s/o? Like how would she realize she likes them? thank you! :)

Junker Queen x Female Reader Relationship Headcanons

A/N: It's been a while y'all - boy am I glad to be back. Literally right after I posted my note about all of the stuff I'm working on, I got slammed with the biggest assessment I've had in my course so far (17 documents total once I'd finally finished it) and caught scarlet fever of all thing so it's taken a good while for me to finally feel well enough and have spare time to write - but here we are!

I'm so excited to write for my favourite built queen - this gif alone is makin me feel things. I'm going to format all of these the same way from now on with SFW and NSFW headcanons from now on. Ofc there will be warning for the NSFW section :)

I hope you enjoy anon despite the wait!

-Nat

SFW Headcanons

Odessa is the kind of gal that isn't really impressed by appearances.

Sure, she has her preferences and finds certain things attractive, but that isn't what piques her interest.

For Dez, it's all about personality, especially if you're the kind of person who is merciful and gentle with others.

This doesn't mean you have to be a doormat, in fact if you stand up for yourself (physically or verbally) when you feel as if you are being treated unfairly or others are being treated unfairly, that's possibly the hottest thing you could ever do in her eyes.

It's just something about the Peter Pan types that really captivates her. Not just in stealing from the rich and giving to the poor, but in being self aware of your strengths and using them to do right by those who are not in the same position of privilege.

This is how she figures out that her little crush on you was not just a little crush anymore.

She overheard you and another agent talking about life before the crisis, and found out that you used to do volunteer work every weekend delivering essentials to the homeless in your city and how much you missed your community outreach.

That and she watched you sock a guy in the face after he attempted to grope your friend at a bar.

It's healing for her and her inner child and she finds herself looking up to you as a role model - she's aware she's no angel and has done many questionable things to survive out there in the wasteland.

However she hopes that now as a part of Overwatch, she can be better and similarly to you, that she can use her position to help others less fortunate.

Dez is fine with casual or short term relationships and has had plenty in her time, she doesn't necessarily need to know someone to be attracted to them - but when she built that emotional connection with you, that's when she knew she was in for the long run.

The best part about dating Dez is that she isn't embarrassed easily - she's very open from the beginning which means conversation flows naturally with her. The downside of this is that for the first few months of being together, getting to sleep was nearly impossible, three am deep conversations just hit different.

This also means if you ever need anything, she is more than happy to accommodate.

Sick? She keeps note of the medication you need and when you need to take it so she can make sure you take it (and bring you water in your comfort water bottle to boot). That time of the month? If somehow the stash of your preferred products are out, she knows what you use - she will get you more without you even needing to ask (she will however check if you crave anything in particular on the way out).

Expect to be doing the same for her when she gets sick - she becomes the biggest needy baby when she's not feeling well.

She's stuck in bed? Yep. So are you.

Not even by choice either, she cages you with her arms and well that's that. There's no fighting this goliath of a woman.

Loves her cuddles - all positions.

Her favourite is being the little spoon though. It's not often that she gets to feel protected and cocooned (can you really blame her).

Loves PDA - particularly keeping an arm around your waist or you attached to her arm at all times, though she's known to do a casual steamy kiss in public when she's feeling particularly jealous.

If you're not one for PDA, she respects that boundary... However she will pout at you with those big red puppy dog eyes.

Absolutely hopeless at cooking and baking though not for lack of trying. Wakes you up regularly cursing about burning her toast.

Of course it's not all sunshine and rainbows.

Speaking of waking you up, Dez has nightmares somewhat regularly.

She's always so thankful to have you there to vent to if she needs it and cuddle with until she's calm enough to fall back asleep.

NSFW CONTENT WARNING

NSFW Headcanons (18+)

Sex to Odessa is powerplay, a safe space to be strong and vulnerable all in one.

Hard dom top - that control means everything to her.

This woman loves a good scrap (duh), if you choose to be a bratty sub, she eats that shit up.

Go ahead, try and buck her off of you, she's not even using half her strength. She can hold you down much harder.

Expect to be begging for mercy.

The two of you develop a safe word very early on in your relationship, Odessa would never forgive herself if she pushed you past your limit.

Definitely has and regularly uses an appropriately sized strap (ouch).

Dez has her kinks. Sex between the two of you is rarely vanilla unless other feelings are involved. She's entuned to what you need and your emotions, she knows when you need the gentler and less complicated sex or when you honestly just need someone to hold you.

That being said, she has a reasonably high sex drive. She can manage on her own if you can't or don't feel like it, but say the words and honestly she's ready when you are.

Though she really would prefer you called her Dez, Odessa, babe - really anything other than her title outside of the bedroom, call her your queen between the sheets - she'll go berserk.

Dabbles in pain play, something of an every now and then addition to the bedroom, it's not something she needs and the both of you really have to be in the mood for the more intensive side of sex. She does however love to see you take Gracie's hilt in every hole.

Unless you'd consider overstimulation a form of pain play. There is nothing she loves more than watching you struggle and beg with tears leaking from your eyes, completely at her mercy.

Light bondage when she doesn't feel like physically restraining you herself.

Claims your face as her throne whenever the mood strikes.

Speaking of claiming, your neck, collarbone and tits are never safe from her demanding mouth.

There aren't really many kinks that Dez would feel uncomfortable with, she would try pretty much anything before she knocks it.

Definite no though - I feel like she'd laugh at ironically calling her 'mommy'/'mummy', especially if you have a different accent, but considering her complicated family past, it just hits a little too close to home to take it seriously especially during sex.

Obviously amazing at foreplay, she knows what she likes which makes it so much easier from the start (not to mention her cheekily buying vibrating piercings just to mess with you) but honestly the best part is that she's enjoying herself just as much as you.

It's all give and take with Dez, you give as much as you get.

#overwatch #overwatch headcanon #overwatch x reader #overwatch imagines #Junker Queen #Junker Queen x Reader #Junker Queen x reader smut #smut #overwatch x reader smut

[meshlasolus]

House Of Memories (30/?)

Obi-Wan Kenobi x Padawan!reader

Warnings: no warnings my dudes, just enjoy the show ;)

Summary: Upon learning your master is alive, you try your hardest to retract the darkness that had taken you over.

A/n: guys... its happening... also there ain't no way i'm writing for bald Obi-Wan so just imagine he has hair like in this gif-

also y'all if you like the story, maybe consider buying me a coffee :)

Words: 3.5k

Sitting back on the ship, autopilot was letting you drift quietly through space, and on the outside, your ship seemed to be in a peaceful lull.

The inside was anything but peaceful...

"I don't understand," Anakin paced back and forth, and was going to give Ahsoka a headache from his quick steps, forwards, backwards, then forwards again. "When Rako grabbed me..."

"I felt it, too," you told him, sitting in your seat, your legs crossed, and your cloak again adorned your shoulders... it was cold in space.

Anakin shook his head, trying to come to a conclusion, one you'd already been brought to the moment the collision happened. You were no longer filled with rage or hated, but now only left with confusion. Pain still meddled along those lines, because you were still upset that this had all happened without your knowledge or consent, without Anakin's.

"The signature, the one that was in the air," Ahsoka began, only for you and Anakin to finish it simultaneously.

"Obi-Wan."

You were utterly confused, and this new development, while a bit easing to your mind, and your soul, still shrouded in darkness, none of it made sense.

"I moved his body at the temple," Anakin shook his head, looking to you, knowing you'd been right be his side when it first had taken place.

"His vitals were gone the second he hit the ground."

There was a missing puzzle piece somewhere, and you needed to find it before going back to the temple. It would be utterly foolish to walk in and just simply proclaim that Obi-Wan Kenobi was alive, especially since his funeral had taken place a day or two before.

"Why did we all feel it at the same time?" Anakin pondered, thinking out loud for the most part, not really hoping for a response.

"Because he needed me to feel him," you paused, leaning back from your hunched position, looking at your friends. "I don't know how, and I don't know why, but Obi-Wan is Rako Hardeen."

Anakin had his suspicions, but all in all, there were far too many reasons that you had to be wrong. First of all, why weren't you all included if this had been planned, secondly, why, even after the mission had begun, did they keep you in the dark, and worse, send you to find him. If this was an undercover mission, then why would they have you all interrupt it.

"How do you know?" He stepped toward you, an inquisitional look upon his features.

You remembered the words he whispered in your ear... not in his voice, but him entirely in the way they came out.

"He called me little one," you said, though in hindsight it didn't seem like the best defense to your suggestion... you really didn't have much else to go on, except this feeling, the signature you were clinging to.

"Anyone could call you that."

"Not like he does it," again, not necessarily a good way of reasoning, but you were insistent that it was him, and that you could feel him even now.

He looked at you and searched for any sign that you were just clinging onto hope, that it wasn't really him, and perhaps this feeling was coming from somewhere else. He saw nothing but pure confidence in your eyes, that what you felt was real. It was him, it had to be. You were sure of it, and you were closer to him than anyone else had ever been.

-

Rako Hardeen was having on hell of a ship ride, sitting in silence, his face dull and stoic, but the thoughts in his head were raging and chaotic. There was so much he had missed, and it had only been a few days.

The way you looked at him with hatred in your eyes, he never thought he'd see the day when you held so much darkness. He didn't know it was possible for you to harbor it in your being. Your optimism, your purity, it was part of who you were... and now? When he saw you, trying to break the glass, trying to kill him, he was so scared, but not for himself. He could have cried when he saw the red streaks that combed through the green of your saber blade.

Had his passing done this to you? You and Anakin had known nothing of the council's secret plan, and because of that, you were suffering, because of him, you were going to the darkness. He was losing you, and it was his own fault. The golden glimmer in your eyes when you slowly came closer to him in the pit, it was the beginning of something he dares not even think about.

She was the light incarnate, but even the brightest stars burn out, leaving mass destruction in their wake.

The second he branched out his signature, letting down the block he'd kept up for so long, he saw it on your face, you knew he was alive, and he was with you. You looked relieved, but also betrayed. He knew he'd betrayed both yours and Anakin's trust. This deceit was a horrible decision, and he regrets it, but there's no turning back now.

He just had to hope that maybe, his presence being back around you, soothing you and embracing your being, was enough to try and regain you for the light. He couldn't live in a world where you depended on hatred and anger to fuel you, to motivate you. He wanted to start a new world, where you could be purely run by love, and hope.

He knew you loved him, now. He knew it with every fiber of his being how much you loved him, and he was never going to question himself over it again.

The day he faked his death, laying lifeless on the glowing platform, he was for the most part unconscious, the vital suppressants doing their job of making him look very much dead. He could still hear and feel everything going on around him, and though he could not react, or even move at the time, he was able to feel everything that you had poured out to him in your moments of grief. You loved him, till the end of time.

The kiss goodbye you'd given him would not be your last kiss. As soon as this was over, he was going to kiss you a thousand times, and never let you go... that was, of course, if you even still wanted him to.

He knew you were probably overwhelmed with confusion, and he understood why. He had failed to tell you the truth, the one thing he was always supposed to do as your master was make sure you could rely on him, but he failed. He left you all alone to fend for yourself, to deal with your feelings on your own... and that's why the darkness got to you. He wasn't there to guide you through the suffering and out onto the other side. You'd crossed into a realm he'd never even crossed paths with all because he decided to go off and leave you. He left you.

He was pulled out of his thoughts when the ship landed, the touchdown being a little rocky due to the damage done to the outside when the collision happened.

Meanwhile on Coruscant...

Anakin had a meeting with the council to discuss your theory, and of course, since you'd not technically been sent on the mission to capture the bounty hunters, you stayed behind with Ahsoka to wait it out.

You were all right, and having found out about the council's secret, they explained their reasoning as to why it was so important that you were kept in the dark. When Anakin told you, you were more than raging. Of course, the council would leave you out of something so important, and yes of course they would let you go through emotional suffering alone, because they had not held one ounce of respect for you in all the years you'd been here. After everything you gave for them, after all you'd done to fight in their war.

"So, what now?" You asked, impatience flooding in your voice.

Anakin shook his head and looked at his padawan before shifting it slowly back to you.

"The council has given Ahsoka and I a new assignment, which is a part of Obi-Wan's mission. They have advised that you stay here until it has been completed," he knew, he just knew you were going to be outraged, and quite frankly he understood, and knew you had the right to be. The council was by far in the wrong to make you wait here, especially after the stunt they'd pulled.

"Son of a-"

-

It was over, everything was done, and Count Dooku had been temporarily stopped. The Chancellor was safe, along with Senator Amidala. Moralo Evol and Cad Bane were taken back into custody, sent to an even higher security prison than before.

You waited patiently by the star port for everyone to come back, seemingly hiding in the shadows where few could see you. You'd found a nice nook in an alleyway, out of sight for passersby, but it held a good view of the station, and as you stood quietly, you began to worry.

You'd counted dozens of ships come and go, and not one of them contained the person you were the most anxious to see. Your hands started fidgeting with some unresolved energy. You'd been trying as hard as you could the past few days to reel in the darkness, to put it back where it belongs and not show when Obi-Wan came home, but it was escaping in small spurts. You hadn't accounted for those.

It was after sundown by the time you sensed the familiar presence of the signatures you knew so well, and by then it was starting to rain. Not a heavy rain, but a light sprinkle of droplets from the sky, making the streets damp with its moisture.

You flipped your hood up, not settling it over your head quite like he could. You crossed your arms and leaned against the wall of the alleyway, waiting for the ship to land. You could see and outline of Anakin in one of the pod's windows, and Ahsoka besides him, but Obi-Wan seemed to be hidden from view, and you thought, of course, because your nerves needed to be on the highest end that they could.

Your fingers were still shaking, twitches of an electric spark showing between them. You closed your eyes and prepared yourself. What would you even say to him? What would you even do?

You were unaware at the time, but Obi-Wan was just as terrified to see you again as you were him. The last time you were in his presence, he wasn't breathing, and his heart had stopped. The last time you'd been with him, you cried over his body, and told him you loved him. You told him you loved him, and you kissed him.

"I sense her, she must be here," Obi-Wan tried to scan the area through one of the small windows on the transport, but without a wide range of vision he wasn't quite able to pin-point you.

"That alleyway," Anakin nodded, and lifted his finger to direct his former master's eyes towards where you stood, barely visible, even from up there.

"Does she even want to see me?"

Obi-Wan's sad glance in Anakin's direction was a little painful to on the receiving end. He looked so ashamed, so guilty. He was under the impression that you may have turned to the darkside because of him. Because you thought that he was gone.

"More than anything."

Anakin grabbed his Master by the shoulder, forcing him to make eye contact as he said these next words.

"You get to her, and don't ever let her go again," Anakin was by your side, grieving him with you, and he knew that as much as he loved his Master, nothing could compare to that of losing someone you loved romantically, especially when you never told them how you felt about them. It festered inside you and grew like a tumor.

Obi-Wan nodded, and stepped off the transport, first letting all the politicians go before him. He made sure no one was watching, having let everyone leave the area, then he slowly snuck off to the alleyway. When he first saw you, your back was turned to him, the hood over your head hiding even your beautiful head of hair. He didn't know if he should approach you, or let you come to him, but he didn't see any harm in calling out for you.

"Little one?"'

You turned around slowly, and taking him in, alive and in person for the first time in over a week, you felt the tears rush to your eyes. It was an instinctual thing, the way your feet carried you in long, quick steps to meet him. He held his arms out to you, hoping you would let him embrace you, hold you tightly.

You raised your hand and slapped him straight across his face, making his head turn to face the alley wall, and his cheek to sting. It was an act out of anger, for him, for the council, and even for yourself.

He was not the slightest bit deterred by it, and stood there all the same, begging, pleading with his eyes for you to say something, anything that told him you didn't hate him, that you weren't going to spite him for the rest of your life.

"I'm sorry," he whispered out, seeing the tears that formed beginning to spill over onto your face. They made little sparkling streaks in their wake, that lit up under the neon of nighttime Coruscant.

You shook your head and choked out a sob, falling into his chest and wrapping your arms around his body. You clung to him, wetting his robes with the water of your eyes. You'd cried so much this past week; you weren't sure you'd have enough tears to ever cry again, if there was a limit, you were sure you'd reached it tenfold.

He held you still, letting you get it out. It was his fault, and he would bear the brunt of whatever you took out on him, especially if it was just to hold you close to his chest while you cried on him, stroking your hair gently and kissing your head with his eyes clenched shut.

You were pouring everything into the air around him, breaking down any walls your signature had defensively put up before, letting him see everything you felt, all the pain, the suffering, the darkness. You offered it all up to absorb into his mind, and when he felt the heaviness of it all, he too could not help himself but to cry. All that your heart had endured while he was jumping ships with bounty hunters, all for a fake cover.

"Why didn't you tell me?" You lifted your head, looking him in the eyes and seeing if perhaps he could give you a straight answer that didn't hurt.

He had no words, and anything he might have said would not be a worthy excuse. He couldn't stand here, looking on your face, so sad and so expectant, and justify himself and his actions. He couldn't do it.

“You held me..." you trailed off, keeping your eyes on his, hoping he could see every emotion in them, how he made you feel. "You could’ve told me that morning."

He was stuck to his place, willing to listen, and to do whatever it took to make you happy again. Anything you wanted him to, he was going to do, even if you requested for him to beg for forgiveness, on his hands and knees. He would fall to the floor, clinging to your feet as he sobbed his apologies.

"I held your lifeless body in my arms, I watched them bury you."

He had to look away, only for a moment. The weight in your eyes, placed upon his shoulders, right here, right now. It was all on him. Everything he'd done in the days prior, and the affect it had on you. It was all on him, now.

"I'm so sorry," his words were broken, and though it was just an apology, just a few simple words, he felt overwhelmed at saying them to you, watching your face turn to something different. You became angrier, but the tears were still falling in rapid streams.

"You will be," you whispered, pulling away from him, leaving his embrace and stepping away from him. You felt in his signature, the small crack of his heart, the split of your body from his had hurt him. " I thought we told each other everything. I've told you everything since the day I met you.”

“No, you haven't, I’m not the only one who kept secrets,” it was said gently, but he wanted to get your attention, to let you know what he knew, and what he wanted to do about it.

You stopped backing away from him, wondering what he could possibly come up with that was on this level of comparison.

“What?”

“There was a time when I thought you were going to die in my arms," he began, his eyes becoming so glassy he could barely see until he blinked away some of the moisture. "I knew then, that had I lost you it was going to be the worst pain of my life. You know why that was?"

"Why?"

"Because I love you, with every part of me," he confessed, the beating of his heart echoed in the force bond you were so deeply connected by, and you'd hoped with every ounce of your being that he meant it. "I love you, and I didn't know it until the day I died, but you love me. You never told me, not until you thought I was dead."

You knew he was right. You had no right to stand here and say you had no secrets from him, when you'd kept the biggest secret of your life under wraps, so he never found out. You took and step towards him, and then another, and when you were almost an inch away, you stopped.

"I regretted not telling you," you didn't meet his gaze, which was trying so hard to settle upon your eyes, your pretty, tear-filled eyes. You placed a hand on his chest, feeling the rapid thump beneath your hand. It was physical, not like you felt it in the force... it meant something more, now.

He took your face in his hands, slowly drawing your line of sight to his own. When your eyes met, it was like nothing ever happened. All was immediately forgiven. He leaned down and kissed the tears off of each of your cheeks, closing his eyes and letting himself revel in the closeness he'd missed so dearly.

"You don't have to regret it anymore," he shook his head, and you let out a strained breath, the rockiness of it catching when it passed your lips.

"I love you," you whispered, never breaking away from that close proximity you both desired. "And I will never stop loving you, for all the days of my life."

He moved down and brushed his lips against yours softly, and both of your eyes fluttered shut before he pressed the softest kiss against your lips. You instantly felt so entranced, like nothing else in the world existed in that moment. He didn't break away, not for anything. You both were frozen still in that embrace and couldn't move further away from each other, because if you did you thought you might fall off the planet.

By now you'd started moving your lips against each other's in perfect sync, the patterned movements coming naturally. Nothing could have prepared you for this, and yet, you really didn't need any preparation. It was as if the moment it happened, you suddenly knew exactly what to do.

You reached up to his neck, fingers raking across the skin and making a home there.

The lights around you seemed to get brighter, even with your eyes closed, you could sense the intensity of their illumination. The energy moving through you now, it had not a trace of darkness left. Everything was light and shining like the suns. Like all the stars in the galaxy.

You could have stayed here, in this moment, for the rest of your life, clinging to the one you loved most in the universe, but the explosion of neon around you caused you to jolt back, him following suit when you'd realized what happened.

"Did you-?" he seemed stunned. You let your energy out into the air, and it was strong enough to break the lights that surrounded you.

"I didn't mean to."

He smiled and kissed the top of your head. It had been so long since he'd done that, and you were so grateful to have that small sentiment back, amongst other new things, of course.

"My love, you are stronger than you know."

-

@spencerrxids @sawendel @fandomstanner24 @i-shall-abide @officialjellydoughnut @whatshxrname @darkened-writer @superavengerpotter @cutiepoo16 @hypnoash @softlymellow @howlerwolfmax @mephistominion @honestlywtfisgoingon @anakinskywalkerog @mandiiellen @je--a-n @guyinachair27 @avenger5-a55emble @amelia-song-pond @kaminanii @the-abyss-of-fandoms @queenofnightdreamland @world-dominating-kitty @mandowhatnow @ella-error505 @annahalo @infinity-witch @beetlejuice-stuff @liueski @solarbxby @sirianisrock @lxdyred @endless-warrior-always-fighter @iloveinej @msjb2002 @shoochi @itsilvermorny @gingerrosecosplay @sebschicken @loversjoy @argentinemango @1-800-vader @house-of-kolchek @marierg @graciexmarvel @ttzamara @truly-madly-nerdy @molieux @majahu @dyzlks @pancakefancake

#obi wan x padawan #obi wan kenobi #obi wan series #obi wan x reader #ewan mcgregor #obi wan kenobi x reader #anakin skywalker x reader #anakin x reader #anakin skywalker #hayden christensen #obi wan kenobi x padawan!reader

[halfmoth-halfman]

y'all know what time it is! it's monthly fic rec time!!!

i decided to move this to the first so i wouldn't miss any fics that might be posted on the last day of each month!!

& a small, kinda sad update:

usually this is where i'd link to my fic-recs blog, but i hit the character limit on my filter page where i have my recs organized and when i made a new page it saved over the first one.

all of my filters and recs on that page are now gone and have to be manually re-done. you can still find my recs by scrolling through the blog, but the filter page is going to be under construction until i can get everything fixed and re-added!!

Alex Keller

❀ click click boom - @writeforfandoms

i don't see a lot of alex fics, so this was already a fav as soon as i saw it, but then i read it and ???? hello???? this was so good??? the characterization of alex alone was amazing, and the rest was like the cherry on top!!

❀ convallaria majalis - @nightingale-ghost-writer

19.2k words of absolute perfection. a fic i have been looking forward to and now that it's out, i just can't get enough of it! did i have to take breaks while reading so i could twirl my hair and kick my feet? yes. was it worth every second? yes.

Arthur Morgan

❀ the fire in your eyes || part VII: horseshoe overlook iii | part VIII: horseshoe overlook iv | part IX: horseshoe overlook v - @cowboydisaster

if there's one character i love more than anything in the world, it's arthur morgan and this series has only made my love for him that much stronger. so beautifully written, i couldn't stop reading-the whole time with a smile on my face. the entire bar scene in part vii??? i was crying with laughter. this is def one of my fav series i've ever read and i am on the edge of my seat waiting for more!

Carlos Oliveira

❀ the way we let it stay - @uselsshuman

this is a fair warning right now that most of the resident evil fics on this list are going to be from em. she has single-handedly ignited my hyperfixation for RE and all of her fics are incredible. including this one!

❀ old wounds new loves - @uselsshuman

i love little cute domestic fics, and carlos is so real for not liking cereal. “Waking up and eating a bowl of cold soggy food? No, thank you.” i feel that on such a spiritual level. also protective!carlos is just the best!!

Javier Peña

❀ arepas - @mvtthewmurdvck

i know i already went feral over this fic, but i'm going to do it again because i love this fic so goddamn much!! this fic is incredible, the way everything feels so natural between javi and reader, the teasing, the friends to lovers trope, everything about this is just so beautiful!!

❀ a broken sight - @mvtthewmurdvck

i don't understand how you can write a character so perfectly. i will never not be amazed by the way you write javi. and the angst??? ugh "He’s here. Like you needed him to be." don't mind the noise that's just me sobbing in the corner.

❀ the dreams we made - @mvtthewmurdvck

there's nothing like a good ol' helping of jo angst. this hurt in all the right ways, completely ripped my heart out and shattered it only to put all the pieces back together again and fill the cracks in with gold.

❀ nowhere to run || file room + accusations | sunshine yellow | a new day - @mvtthewmurdvck

the series that got me into narcos, i actually started watching the show just so i could read the perfection that is this series!! am i potentially spoiling things for myself a little bit? yes, but it's absolutely worth it because this series has me by the throat.

Joel Miller

❀ want. - @mvtthewmurdvck

literal poetry best described by this gif:

John "Soap" MacTavish

❀ none lacking sins - @halcyone-of-the-sea

listen, i like soap. he's not my fav, but he's a really good character. this fic though? it's moved soap up to my top five favorite characters. this made me want to read nothing but soap. i must've read this a dozen times, i was immediately sent into a soap hyperfixation. every aspect of this fic is just amazing. stunning. perfect.

❀ the hanging tree - @writeforfandoms

had me on the edge of my damn seat trying to figure out what was going. the worry and the tension built up so wonderfully i was dying to know what was about to happen and omg i was not disappointed. and the way jen writes soap is just *chef's kiss*

❀ i will wait - @mvtthewmurdvck

this fic had me realize how much i crave soft!soap and just fluff with soap in general. the tender moments warm my heart up something fierce and make me all giddy. like waking up to the perfect sunrise.

John Price

❀ puppy love || one | two | three | four - @writeforfandoms

puppies and price? what more could someone ask for? these two are so cute together and with the added cuteness of the puppies (and gaz lol) it's just an overload of cuteness in the best possible way!

❀ scratches in the surface - @halcyone-of-the-sea

was not expecting a part two to one of my favorite price fics, but damn if this wasn't a fantastic surprise. the angst is top-tier here and as much as it hurt, i couldn't stop reading and will probably read it again a million more times.

❀ neon medusa || part 1: static in the airways | part 2: warning signs - @yeyinde

CYBERPUNK!AU????? WITH PRICE????? WRITTEN BY YEYINDE???? SIGN ME TF UP!!! i am feral, consumed by how excited i am for this series and how utterly fantastic it's been so far. i will never get tired of lev's fics, and how gorgeous her writing is.

❀ untitled - @lunarvicar

okay this was adorable. the way price drops everything to get to her apartment, immediately ready to protect her is just sooo perfect. and her being freaked out by ghost adventures?? asdasljlsjd relatable.

❀ untitled - @yeyinde

i live for domestic bliss, and this fic just scratched that itch so well. there's something so comforting and homey about this fic, just the quiet intimacy between price and reader, the cute back and forth, this line: “Gaz said I looked like an Edwardian lord—” an absolute comfort fic if i've ever read one.

❀ comforts of home - @halcyone-of-the-sea

this fic had me weak, literally struggling to read cause i was too busy looking like this at my phone

❀ barking dog - @yeyinde

jealous!price is not something i see often, but damn if i don't want to see more of it after reading this. i am obsessed with the way lev writes price, how real and natural and captivating he is in her fics.

❀ wicked pyre - @yeyinde

you can't just give me dragon!price and expect me not to love it. i am so feral for monster!au's and this is saldkjaslda i can't be normal after reading this, i am feral, so enraptured by this fic and the entire concept of dragon!price.

❀ origami boats - @halcyone-of-the-sea

a sequel to the best price fic of all time???? say less. this fic was in my top three before i even started reading, i just knew it was going to be good. well, it wasn't just good, it was great. stunning. heart-breaking in a way that gives you the best kind of hurt.

Kyle "Gaz" Garrick

❀ high hopes - @writeforfandoms

gaz my sweet mans. as one of my favorite characters, i tend to be picky with my gaz fics, but this fic right here? loved it. adored it. read it six times with a bigger smile on my face each time.

❀ cult of vagabonds || prologue | landless gull | snail & thrush - @halcyone-of-the-sea

not only is this a gaz series, but it's one written by halcyone who can never write a bad fic. this is immaculate. i can't even describe how much i love this series so far and how much i can't wait to see where it goes!

❀ boom - @sleepiexx

ok but like this was so good?? the tension, the desperation, the way gaz was so ready to die with her. i'm shook. and that ending???? i’m giggling, i’m blushing, i’m re-reading this fic a million more times.

Leon Kennedy

❀ leon kennedy masterlist - @uselsshuman

i'm gonna be real here for a second, this entire section was 99% made up of em's leon fics. i couldn't choose which ones to add, which ones were my favorite, because i loved them all. so i'm just putting a link to her leon masterlist, because every single one of those fics deserves to be seen and read and given all of the love that they deserve.

❀ enough || one | two | three | final - @uhlunaro

i have one word for this series: wow. just wow. i have never been more thankful to find a series after it was already done because i would've gone crazy waiting to see what happened next! which part was my favorite? all of them. every single one. the hurt, the dialogue, just the way leon is written. i'm speechless.

Simon "Ghost" Riley

❀ exit row || exit row, part iii | exit row, part iv- @lunarvicar

the phrase "post-dick flashback" will live rent free in my head until the day i die, i was wheezing. i'm convinced there isn't a character nat can't make me love, because her portrayal of ghost here?? 🔥🔥🔥

❀ happiness || diamond ring | fearless | - @lethalchiralium

more of my favorite family man!simon series!!!!!! yesssss!!!!! i swear with every new addition, i just love this series more and more. i am so stressed reading it, but i love every second of it.

❀ the effect you have - @mvtthewmurdvck

screaming, crying, throwing up. how do you do it, jo? how do manage to make me hurt and heal my heart so beautifully in every single fic? how dare you, but also thank you so much.

❀ the captain || part 6 | part 7 | thunder - @as-is-above-so-below

omg i can't. y'all can't just keep giving a+ quality family man!ghost fics and expect me to be normal. you can't just give me cute shit like:

“Gaz frug.”

and not expect me to be like:

also, i am absolutely in love with freyja. the way her relationship is written with ghost and the kids is so lovely and has me kicking my feet and twirling my hair.

❀ ghost at the beginning of your relationship - @angelltheninth

cute. adorable. sweet. i love me some good fluff and even more so soft!ghost and this was the perfect combination of both of them! and simon having "guard dog energy" is so funny and so correct.

❀ ménage || refuge | resolution - @lilywastaken

my new go-to for simon fics. the relationship between simon and reader and between simon and the 141 are both so great. and oh my god that wild ride of emotions i went during part five had me stressed tf out i couldn't stop reading! such a great and fun series.

❀ making progress - @constantcrisis19

"dragged into the CoD fandom kicking and screaming" and still delivering an absolutely amazing fic. the teasing, the small talk, the faint smile?? incredible. the entire conversation about powerful music?? fantastic.

#moth fic recs #fave fics #monthly fic recs

[imyourbratzdoll]

So, you and steve rogers were friends. JUST friends. But y'all did things FRIENDS don't usually do. You kissed, maybe fucked a couple of times, went on "friendly" dates. When people asked if you were dating, y'all would say "We're just friends." Reader is narrating (or you could make it 3rd person pov)It's all fluffy and smutty but then, the scene changes to y/n talking to her therapist talking about her and Steve's relationship. And then it gets angsty like major character death angsty. Therapist tells reader to go visit steve's grave. She does.She's upset about the missed opportunity the two of them had, to become more than just friends. She talks to steve from he sit in front of his grave. She crys and stays there for a bit.The End."We're just friends" as in "we're not dating we don't do bf/gf stuff" to "We were just friends" as in "We never got to be more"

hi, I hope you like it! I hope it's what you were hoping for!

summary - you wished you had more time with him.

warning - death, angst, no happy ending.

the gif I use isn't mine, divider by @newlips and @firefly-graphics

You felt his lips against your skin, your eyes were closed in bliss, and your fingers tangled in his hair. “Steve… Feels good.” You moan as his thrusts deepen, and your hands move down to his back, clawing it as his pace picks up. “Right there… Fuck, right there!” Your eyes open, looking deep into his before they roll back, his member hitting your sweet spot. 

He brings you into a passionate kiss as the two of you finish. You both slowly begin to dress, and Steve stares at you for a while, his eyebrows furrowed. “Are we still on for that movie?” You nod, swallowing the lump in your throat, giving him your best fake smile. 

We’re just friends… We would never be more. 

You didn’t know how it had happened so fast. You thought you’d see Steve again. “Y/n?” You hum, blinking out of the memories of Steve, staring at your therapist across from you. “Do you want to tell me about Steve?” 

You shrug, feeling the lump in your throat return. “What’s there to talk about? It’s not like it’ll change anything.” 

“No, but it may make you feel better. Now, tell me about your relationship with Steve.” You pick on the loose string on the couch, feeling tears prick your eyes at the thought of the blond-haired, blue-eyed man. 

“...We… We were just friends….” You swallow, not wanting to break down in front of someone. Ever since you heard of Steve’s death, you had only cried in the privacy of your room, sometimes his if you were missing him. 

“Hmm, just friends? From what I’ve seen and heard, it always looked like more.” Your eyes squint, glaring at the woman.

“Just friends, nothing more. We were never anything more.” You whispered the last part, wishing you had opened up and told Steve how you felt about him. 

“I would like you to do something for me. I want you to go and visit Steve’s grave.” You stare, brows furrowed, as you feel the tightness in your chest get worse. “It’s the only way for you to get the closure you need. This will be good for you, Y/n.”

Well, here you are. In front of Steve’s grave, you kneel in front of it, leaning forward to stroke his picture. “Hi, Steve. I’m sorry I took so long to come and see you.” You frown, a shiver going up your spine. You don’t see him, but he’s standing there, smiling sadly with tears in his eyes. “Why did you have to die? Why did you have to go on that stupid mission? Why did you agree to just being friends?!” You choke up, feeling the tears you’ve desperately been trying to keep in roll down your face. “I loved you, and you left me! You left me…. You left me… and I loved you….” Your arms wrap around the tombstone, resting your head on it as you weep, praying for your Steve to come back to you, praying for time to go back. 

You stay there even when the sun goes down and when it’s dark outside, and you are still there when the sun comes back up. You don’t hear Steve telling you to go home and rest on the other side, and you don’t hear him tell you he loves you. 

thank you for reading!

feedback and reblogs are greatly appreciated.

#bicyclebarnesask #imyourbratzdollasks #imyourbratzdollwork #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers #steve rogers angst #steve rogers au #steve rogers drabble #steve rogers fanfic #steve rogers fic #steve rogers fluff #steve rogers imagine #steve rogers one shot #steve rogers x f!reader #steve rogers x fem!reader #steve rogers x female reader #steve rogers x y/n #steve rogers x you #steve x reader #chris evans x female reader #chris evans x reader #chris evans fanfiction #chris evans #chris evans angst #chris evans blurb #chris evans character #chris evans characters #chris evans drabble #chris evans fan fic

[sassy-ahsoka-tano]

DADDY ISSUES - Part Nine: Make Daddy Proud

Character/Fandom: Elvis - Elvis (2022)

Prompt: You told Elvis what you wanted and he provided, although it may not have been what you were hoping for. You shouldn't be so surprised to learn that he has another surprise up his sleeve, but this one is a bit different. [ Fem!Reader ]

TW: colonel lmfaoo but that's it

Rating: Pg-13 || Word Count: 7606

A/N: y'all know what comes next after this gif 🥴 the fact that it cuts off right before?? Ash you don't even realize how perfectly it fits with this chapter omg. also yes, we are talking about THAT brown suit y'all know the one

Song Rec: make daddy proud - blackbear

This is Part 9 of Daddy Issues. Find the rest of the series here!

[ masterlist | taglist ]

🦋 mila

─────•~❉᯽❉~•─────

When you wake up the next morning, you decide to spend the next few days relaxing and recuperating after the, frankly, painful experience from last night. Since you usually only see Elvis once a week, you figure it won't be a problem. That logic makes you extra surprised when you return from the market just before dinner to find a note taped to your door. You read it as you carry your groceries inside to put them away.

Princess, 7 pm tonight. Don’t be late. D

You roll your eyes but can’t deny the feeling of excitement that grows within your stomach at the thought of him pleasuring you. You've been holding off on touching yourself since you moved here, hoping your pent-up energy would eventually be released by Elvis himself. Now that you've gotten a taste, you need it even more.

You’re hoping for more of an intimate experience tonight; you want him to use his hands on you, not just use a tool. You need to feel his warmth, his touch, his everything on your body.

You spend most of the rest of the day reading, doing some cleaning and chores, and watching television. While you’re in the middle of getting ready, the phone rings. You rush out of the bathroom, waving your hand in front of the drying mascara on your face, and pick up the receiver.

“Hello?”

“Hey, princess!" Max's voice comes through the receiver. "You still down to hit the bar after the show tonight?”

“Max! I’d love to!” you silently thank Max for calling you up. You’d managed to forget that you said you’d go out with him for a drink after the show tonight. You nod. “I can’t wait. See you tonight?”

“Great. Can’t wait to see you. I miss you,” he says and you bite your lip in happiness.

"Good," you reply with a giggle.

You hang up the phone and finish getting ready to meet Elvis for the night, remembering to stuff an extra pair of pants and a top inside your bag so that you can change before going out to the bar. You do your usual makeup check in the mirror right next to the door and get downstairs promptly on time. Or so you think. As you step backstage, you realize that you’re already a minute late. You groan but your attention is pulled away when you hear Max’s voice.

“Y/N? Damn, you look amazing!” he shouts and you glance up to see him smiling with his arms outstretched toward you.

You return the expression and stop, having no choice other than to talk to him. You tap your foot, momentarily impatient, but quickly forget yourself when he comes closer. The smell of his familiar, musky cologne wafts into your nostrils.

“Thank you, thank you!” you say happily, doing a little twirl for him. “Only my best for our little date night. Even though this isn’t what I’m wearing. It’s a little too much, I think.”

“No, it’s perfect. I love you in blue,” he says, leaning against the wall.

You quirk an eyebrow but drop your gaze as heat creeps into your neck and face. You tuck a loose strand of hair behind your ear.

“Well then, just wait until you see the outfit I actually have planned for the bar,” you say, winking at him. “Although I would love to hear your fashion advice? Any tips?”

You spin around, slowly, glancing over your shoulder to flash him your most charming smirk. When you've completed your turn, you lean your back against the column nearest to you.

“Oh yeah?” he replies, biting his lip. “Alright. Let’s start at your hips. Amazing, beautiful hips, very voluptuous. A gentle waist and beautiful, elegant legs. I bet you’d look sexy in just about anything, but, personally…”

He takes a couple of steps closer to you, his fingers expertly sliding into yours. You allow him to intertwine your fingers and press your palms together. His thumb brushes over your knuckles as he leans against the column, his body hovering over yours. He smirks down at you. His eyes drop down across your figure and lazily roll back up to meet your gaze.

“Personally, I’d like to see you in nothing.”

You release a quiet giggle, tilting your head to the side and preparing for him to press his lips to yours. Just as your lips brush together, you’re interrupted. 

“Y/N.”

You jerk backward and wince when you accidentally bump the back of your head against the column. Your heart stops suddenly in your chest. You immediately recognize the voice which calls out to you. You squeeze your eyes shut tightly before daring to open them again and turn your head to the side. Sure enough, there he is in the flesh. Elvis, in a baby blue jumpsuit with gems studded all over it. As usual, the suit is mostly unfastened.

You gulp, suddenly genuinely worried for the first time that you might lose your position as his most honored sugar baby. You drop your gaze from his, terrified by the downward slope of his eyebrows and the sullen expression of his cheeks. He looks enraged, infuriated. You've seen him angry before but nothing like this.

“Are you aware of the time?” he asks firmly.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Presley,” you reply immediately. “I was just-”

“Who the hell is this?”

He nods his chin toward Max and you turn to glance at your friend. Max's eyebrows are raised and his eyes widened. You can tell he’s worried about being fired, too. You gulp.

“Uh, this is Max Carver. He’s a stagehand. We were just, uh…”

You glance back over at Max for backup, raising your eyebrows in a plea for help.

“We were just talking about our plans for later,” Max responds, truthfully, to your surprise. You turn away from him and toward the floor, too afraid to face Elvis and too anxious to look at Max.

“What plans for later?” Elvis asks dryly.

“Uh, yeah...Y/N and I were planning to hit up a bar on the strip after the shows tonight. Just the two of us," Max replies cheerily.

Elvis says nothing, his lips pressed into a tight line. His eyes flick over to you, not an ounce of compassion left in them. His gaze quickly tracks up and down your figure before he shifts his head back to Max. Elvis holds out a hand, curling his fingers and gesturing for Max to step closer to him. As Max does so, you sigh frustratedly, feeling anger pooling inside you. Elvis told you you were allowed to see other people so you don't understand why he's making such a fuss. What is the problem?

Elvis puts an arm around Max's shoulders and harshly jerks the stagehand against his side, turning them both to face you. You fold your arms over your chest, suddenly feeling awkward under the gaze of the two men you’re...involved with. Elvis points toward you.

“Look at her. Classy, elegant, beautiful. A woman,” he spits and you watch the venomous way the corners of his mouth quirk up. He turns his head to speak directly into Max's ear. "She doesn’t wanna fuck you, son. She wants to fuck daddy.”

At the sound of his words, all of your breath is sucked from your chest. Your heart begins to beat faster and you can feel it pulsing in your temples. All you can do is stare at Elvis. For a moment, Max seems to shrink beside him as Elvis’ power and influence overtake the room. The tension grows until it’s thick enough to cut with a knife. You know you should be defending Max but you can’t bring yourself to speak or do anything. All you can manage is breathing and staring.

“What in god’s name is going on here?” An unfamiliar voice suddenly breaks through the conversation. You all turn around to see Elvis' manager, the Colonel, waddling his way over to you all. “Mr. Presley is supposed to be onstage in less than five minutes and you’re all standing around arguing? You,” he points at Max, “explain yourself.”

Max starts to stutter and you’re sure he’s terrified of losing his job. You step up in front of him, standing firmly between your friend and the Colonel.

“We were just chatting," you say. "Nothing needs to be explained. We’re friends and we were having a conversation.”

The Colonel takes a puff of his cigar and then blows it straight into your face. You recoil and resist the urge to wave your hand in the air to dispel the smoke. You stare through the white cloud as it dissolves into the transparent air between you. You don’t allow your eyes to leave his.

“Have whatever conversations you like as long as they don’t disrupt Mr. Presley’s activities. The activities he gets paid for,” the Colonel replies and it takes everything in your body not to bitch slap him across the face right then and there.

“Damn straight. Now, get back to work fore I fire your ass,” Elvis says and you turn to see him pointing directly at Max.

Max stumbles away, throwing you a glance which lands somewhere between confusion and betrayal. All you can do is shake your head and shrug. You want to apologize but you can’t find the words to say it out loud. Before you get a chance to muster anything, he’s already passed and Elvis is commanding you yet again.

“Inside. Now.”

You turn toward him, the anger in your body rising to an unhealthy level. You flatten your lips and clench your jaw, stalking past Elvis and the Colonel into the dressing room. As soon as you’re inside, you turn around and prop your hands on your hipbones. You tap your foot impatiently as you wait for him to come in. He walks into the room, slamming the door behind him. You open your mouth to speak, but he does so first.

“What time is it?”

“What?” you spit, shaking your head in confusion.

“Answer the goddamn question, princess.”

You scoff, glancing at your watch.

“Seven-fifteen,” you answer dryly.

“And what time did I tell you to be down here?”

“Seven,” you reply, grinding your teeth

“Ah, so you do know. Now, I’m no mathematical genius, but last time I checked, 7:15 is after 7 o’clock. Ain't that right, doll?”

“Yes,” you mutter through clenched teeth.

“Mm. Mhm,” he hums in response, his expression unchanging.

You grit your teeth as your fingers curl into fists by your sides. The displeasure, annoyance, and disappointment of your experience so far as his sugar baby begin to settle on you. Your head continues to spin and you feel your chest growing tighter.

“Listen," you hiss. "I was just talking with a friend. Is that not allowed now?”

“Yeah, sure. It's allowed. Whenever you want, 'cept when you on my time.”

“Your time? Excuse me?”

“Don't play round, darlin. You agreed to these rules when you accepted the proposal.”

“I didn’t agree to shit!” you’re shouting now, leaning toward him as if to challenge him. “I didn’t sign anything!”

“Fine!” he shouts back, seemingly growing in size above you. “If that’s how you wanna play it, then you can say a sweet goodbye to your weekly gifts!”

“Look, I’m sorry I was late, okay? But maybe if you didn't schedule our sessions with so little time, we wouldn't have to rush like this.”

"Maybe if you wasn't late we wouldn't be havin this conversation."

"I was literally just talking with my friend! Sue me!"

“Ah, talkin with your friend? Or is he your boyfriend?”

You scoff, throwing your arms up frustratedly and then slamming them back down by your sides. You point at him with a firm finger.

“What difference does it make to you? You’re the one who said it was no problem if I dated other people, so that’s what I’m doing. God knows I’m not being satisfied by you!”

Although his face hardens and you can see his jaw clench harshly, you don’t regret a single word of your angry speech. It’s all true and he needs to know.

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” he says through clenched teeth.

“Oh please. I ask you to pay a little bit of attention to me so that I can experience some pleasure, too, and you pull that shit last night with the vibrating panties?"

"I did what you asked."

"No. You put in the most minimal effort possible. You embarrassed me in front of the entire audience. You used me for your own selfish pleasure. What the hell is wrong with you?”

“I did what you asked,” he repeats and takes a step closer, bearing down over you.

You rise up onto your tiptoes, lengthening out your neck to show him you’re unafraid. All of your concerns are gone, replaced by the intense rage pulsing through your veins.

“Pathetically.”

“You ungrateful brat! We’re done tonight. Get upstairs fore I replace you.”

Your entire body tenses and you consider telling him to fuck off, but you can't bring yourself to be that bold. You throw your arms down with a frustrated groan and relax your muscles before pushing him aside and stalking out of the dressing room.

You angrily push the door open and rush out, your heart slamming harshly with anger as you slam the door behind you. You can feel peoples’ eyes on your figure after the loud sound ricochets throughout the backstage area. But you don’t care nor do you bother to turn around and give any of them the time of day. You hurry back upstairs to your apartment, confident that your resting bitch face and clenched fists are ammo enough to keep anyone from bothering you.

As soon as you burst into your apartment and close the door, you feel calmer. You wash your makeup off in the bathroom and change into your pajamas. Then, you call the number for the backstage phone and try to get ahold of Max so that you can apologize. The stage manager refuses to hand the phone over, so you have to hope that he relays your message.

“Look, just tell him that I’m sorry about everything. I can explain it all and I really want to talk to him. Also, can you just tell him that I can’t make it tonight? I’m…not feeling very well and I need to rest. I’ll call him tomorrow.”

After hanging up, you curl into bed and stare at the ceiling, reflecting on your situation. How could this have happened? What the hell was Elvis’ problem, anyway? Was he jealous? That you’re flirting with someone else? Why would he be? Like he said, just because you’re sexually involved doesn’t mean you have to be romantically involved. You don't have to be lovers or even friends.

Your mind turns to thoughts of guilt toward Max. What if your actions get him fired? What if you call tomorrow and he’s just not there? Is he mad at you? Will he ever talk to you again?

The phone suddenly rings and you begrudgingly answer.

“Hello?”

“Miss Y/L/N? This is the front desk. I have a Trixie Carpenter who’s calling for you? She says she tried your number several times earlier today and received no answer so she called the desk instead. Would you like me to patch her through?”

“Oh…uh…” you rub your hand over your face and think about Trixie, how everything in her life has always gone perfectly according to plan. How she’s a beautiful, wealthy, wonderful person and for all of that wonderfulness, you suddenly find yourself despising her and all of her unending luck.

“No," you reply. "Just tell her that I’ve fallen quite ill and don’t have the energy to talk tonight."

You feel accomplished after saying the words until your guilt and shame quickly set in.

“But tell her that I’ll call her back tomorrow," you add.

“Absolutely, miss. I’ll do that," the front desk clerk responds cheerily.

After hanging up, you curl into the fetal position and fade into an empty blackness.

When you wake up the next day, your eyes burn from a combination of intense sunlight and the overhead light in your bedroom. You’d passed out without even getting settled into the bed, your legs strewn all over the mattress with blankets half-falling off your body. You rub the sleep from your eyes and groggily blink awake. When the memories of last night come flooding back to you, your heart sinks and your stomach drops. You rake your fingers through your hair with a deep sigh.

As you try to piece together a game plan for the day, you hear a knock on the door. You shuffle out of bed and pull on your robe and slippers. After tying the robe tightly, you open the door and jump back when you see Jerry standing on the other side.

“Oh, hi,” you say awkwardly.

While you know that his role as Elvis' number one means that Jerry sometimes runs his errands, you've never once seen him outside your door like this. You've never seen anyone outside your door like this. It's usually just a note and never this early. But when you glance at the clock in the kitchen to see that it’s somehow already 4 p.m., your eyes go wide. You shake your head and refocus on Jerry.

“Hey,” Jerry replies, equally as awkwardly. “He, uh, wanted me to hand deliver this one to you in person.”

He extends his hand to give you a package with a letter taped to the top. You quirk an eyebrow and Jerry must have noticed because he continues to explain.

“He felt bad about how things went last night and wanted to apologize.”

“Well then why didn’t he come down here himself and say it to my face?” you ask dryly. Jerry just shrugs.

“I don’t make the rules. I just follow them. I was...sorry to hear that things aren't going so well. I have no idea what's in that package but I hope it's enough to fix things for you."

“Me too, but I'm afraid what I want can't be wrapped. Thanks anyway, Jerry. I’ll give it a look.”

He nods and offers a tight smile before you shut the door. You curl up on the couch and take a deep breath before you open the letter.

Princess,

First of all, I just wanna say I’m sorry for my behavior last night. Upon reflection, I realize that I acted very childishly and wasn’t very respectful of you. I did say that you could date other people and I still stand by that. Maybe now that it’s here in writing, we won’t have to argue about it again!

Anyway, I was hoping we could start over tonight. I know things haven’t been going according to plan and that you haven't been too happy. That’s my fault and I wanna make it up to you by taking you out to dinner. There we can take some time to get to know each other better. Spend some time together. I hope you take me up on it. Meet me downstairs in the hotel lobby at 8 pm.

I know I'm on thin ice as it is but I'd like to make one small request. Wear black, any black outfit you want. And the ring and this little piece I got you here. I hope you like it. And I hope to see you soon, darling.

D

You gently put the letter down, his lengthy apology tugging at your heartstrings just the tiniest bit. You're also admittedly pleasantly surprised by his offer. Going out to dinner will actually require you to go out, in public, together. And that's something Elvis has been very clearly against. You move toward the box, carefully disassembling it and setting it aside so that you can get into the contents. A small piece of paper rests on top and you grab it to read the handwritten words.

When you walk through that door, I want everybody’s eyes on you. I want everybody to know you’re mine. I don’t want to know that you even existed before this moment. You were born just for me.

Your eyebrows raise. A smile breaks through your lips even though you bite down hard in resistance. You can't help but reread the words over and over again. You almost forget there's more to the package until your eyes drift over to it. You pull apart the wrapping paper and lift out a piece of jewelry. Your breath hitches in your throat and you forget how to breathe. You've been surprised by his gifts before but this? There's no match to what you pull out of this box.

You lift it out, a stiff necklace, and hold it in front of your face. It’s composed entirely of diamonds, square cut and very elegantly and expertly fastened into a thick choker. As you twist and turn it in the light, the diamonds glitter and glisten like sparkling stars. In the middle of the choker are gold-encrusted jewels that spell out two simple letters: EP.

You shakily put the choker down on the table, gently so that you don’t damage it.

Suddenly everything feels too real. Never in your life have you held in your hands something so expensive and beautiful. You could never, ever dream of affording such a thing under normal circumstances. The thought that Elvis can afford to buy this on just any old day and gift it to a woman who, only last night, yelled at him and told him off overwhelms you. The fact that he would is even more unbelievable. You've never been more attuned to the power of wealth.

Your eyes flick back to the letters. EP, of course, for Elvis Presley. The TCB ring was a subtle way to let other potential suitors know that you were taken. But this choker, this…collar is the most obvious and unavoidable way to show every eligible bachelor on earth that you are owned by Elvis Presley.

With a shaky breath, you stand and make your way toward the closet to sort out your outfit. You piece through the dresses that Elvis has bought you so far, sorting through them to find the black ones. Each one you glance at makes your face screw up in dissatisfaction. None of them is the right fit for the occasion. You don't know exactly what you're looking for but it's not one of these.

With a sigh, you turn, about to go to the bathroom for a shower when a flash of blue catches your eye. You step back, grabbing onto the deep royal blue fabric of a dress that you'd bought when you were out shopping on your own years ago. A dress that you chose, that you saved up for, and one of the last pieces in your closet that feels like it really and truthfully belongs to you. You smile as your fingers dance over the fabric. You pull it out.

A long and slow, hot shower is the perfect start to get yourself ready for the evening. After doing your hair and makeup, you get dressed and accessorize. You open your jewelry box and fish out the TCB ring, sliding it onto your finger. You wiggle the finger fondly and then walk into the living room to add the final touch. You check the clock to see that it’s 7:30 now. You're a little ahead of schedule but you won't mind waiting in the lobby for a bit.

As you look at yourself in the mirror by the door, you lift the diamond choker up to your throat. Your fingers gently trace the diamonds. For a few minutes, you fumble behind your neck to try and fasten it but, no matter what you do, it's not happening for you. Out of frustration, you huff and gently fold the choker over itself.

“Shit.”

You grab your purse, momentarily wishing that you hadn’t thrown away that black lingerie, but your go-to matching lacy bra and panties set will have to do for now. You gently hold the choker in your open palm as you make your way downstairs. You mosey through the casino floor toward the lobby, noticing the grandfather clock in the center of the room which flashes 7:45 p.m. exactly. You breathe a sigh of relief now that you're prepared and early. Glancing around, you scan the area for an open seat and instead notice Elvis in a corner with his head bent low toward the Colonel.

You sneak toward them and press yourself back against a marble column, turning your head to try and catch some of their conversation. As you consider their gestures and the expressions on their faces, you figure they're probably fighting about something. You watch sneakily as Elvis smiles, scoffs, and shakes his head. The Colonel is gesticulating very intensely, a little too close to Elvis for comfort.

Surprisingly, your sugar daddy looks like he’s losing the argument so you decide to interrupt them. You straighten your neck and walk toward them. As you get closer, you start to hear them better and their conversation becomes clearer.

“Colonel, all I’m sayin is I know the tour’s gonna be a big hit overseas. Think bout how much snow we could be makin?” Elvis is saying.

“Snow? Snow, my boy?” the Colonel’s grating voice sounds in response. “Think about how much snow we’ll have to spend just to get there. And I’ve already explained to you that security is a major issue, so we have to-”

You clear your throat loudly enough for them both to hear. Elvis and the Colonel's heads snap up in your direction. The Colonel's expression immediately hardens but Elvis' lights up at the sight of you. You offer a tight smile.

"Mr. Presley, it's 8 p.m. sharp," you say, addressing him directly. "I'm sorry to drag you away from the Colonel, but I believe we have an appointment."

"Ah, so it is," Elvis replies, glancing down at his shiny golden watch. "Well, Colonel, I'm afraid I got a prior commitment that I have to get to. We'll have to discuss this a different time."

The Colonel's gaze falls on you and he glares into your eyes before heaving a deep breath. He wheels himself around on his cane and starts to waddle away. Before he ventures out of earshot, he glances over his shoulder at Elvis.

“We will be, eh, continuing the conversation later, my boy.”

You remain silent as you wait for him to leave although you have a few words in mind for him. When he's finally far enough away, you lift your gaze to Elvis'. He tilts his head and his eyes trace up and down your figure displeasingly. You can tell that he's probably taking in the fact that you’re not wearing the color he instructed you to. You take a deep breath. No more weakness, no more submission.

“I told you to wear black,” he says.

“Well, I wanted to wear blue,” you reply. “So I’m wearing blue.”

He looks at you with an expression somewhere between stern and quizzical. A smile cracks across his features, his blue eyes twinkling in the warm light of the lobby. You share the expression.

"Alright, princess. I like you better in blue, anyway. We should get goin or we'll be late."

He holds out his elbow and you take it, winding your arm around his. He smiles down at you as you walk arm-in-arm toward the doors. As you glance over at him, you take a moment to appreciate his outfit. He's wearing a deep brown suit, no undershirt which you appreciate immensely considering you can perfectly see his beautiful chest. His hair is styled perfectly, a few strands falling onto his forehead. Although it's nighttime, he's also donning a pair of sunglasses, probably to hide his identity. Although, you aren't sure how effective they are.

Your mouth pops open when you step out of the hotel. Stretched out in front of you is the most beautiful shiny black limousine you've ever seen in your life. Of course, you've passed them on the street both in LA and in Vegas, but you've never had the pleasure of riding inside of one. Why would you? There's never been an occasion in your life where you've needed to have access to a limo. As you glance over at Elvis with a wide grin, you only smile harder. He's pulled the sunglasses down onto the tip of his nose, holding the frames between his fingers. He winks and reaches for the door.

"My lady," he says, gesturing with a wave of his hand.

You slide your fingers into his outstretched hand and his fingers curl around yours. You drop your gaze and bite your lip, feeling an unusual sensation in your stomach. Butterflies. As you climb into the limo, you realize that this is the first time you've felt them with him. You've experienced a million other sensations with Elvis, but never butterflies.

You're already enjoying your evening much, much more than you normally would if you were just convening in the dressing room for a quickie. He's finally acting the southern gentleman you know he can be. That's all you wanted, to be treated with respect.

He climbs in next to you and the driver takes off toward your destination. Elvis lifts the glasses and turns toward you.

“Y’ever been in one of these things, princess?” he asks and you shake your head.

“Never. Never needed to. But I always wanted to, though.”

"Well, I hope this experience lives up to your dreams."

Silence settles for a few minutes as you stare out the window and watch the neon lights flash by, wondering where you could be zooming off to.

“I’m glad you got my letter," Elvis' voice pulls your attention back to him. You catch his eyes and offer a warm smile.

"I'm glad you wrote it."

"How come you ain’t wearing the necklace I boughtcha?”

You gasp, suddenly remembering its existence. You momentarily panic, patting around your body before reaching for your purse. You reach your hands inside and breathe a sigh of relief when your fingertips grasp onto diamonds. You must have dropped it in there absentmindedly when you decided to save Elvis from the Colonel.

“Oh…sorry, I couldn’t get it fastened by myself. Could you...?” you say, holding it out for him.

"It'd be my pleasure, darlin."

He takes the necklace gently from your grasp and you turn the best you can in the car. You pull your hair out of the way and wait patiently. His fingers drape the necklace around your throat, pulling it tightly against your skin. You gulp against the jewels, your eyes fluttering closed. You breathe tightly when his fingers tickle the skin of your neck and shoulders as he fastens the choker. He tugs on the necklace to tighten it, pulling almost too tight but loose enough that you can still breathe. He secures it into place. His fingers linger on your skin for just a moment until the car rolls to a stop and you pull away.

Someone opens your door but the minute you step out, you’re blinded by the flash of cameras going off in every direction. You squint and hold a hand up to shield your eyes. Elvis has already made his way over to you. His strong arm snakes around your back and pushes you forward even though you can barely see. You follow his lead up the stairs and into the building, the paparazzi shouting behind you.

As soon as you step inside, you breathe a sigh of relief at the silence and calm of the high-quality restaurant you’re now standing in. The hosts all seem to know Elvis and escort you both to a table at the top of a balcony overlooking the rest of the restaurant. There are no other tables set up in the area although you notice some chairs stacked in the corner. You get seated and pick up a menu.

“I really am glad you came tonight, princess. I didn't know for sure that you would,” he says and you glance over at him.

“I’m glad too. And I want to apologize for my behavior, too. I was also being childish and stupid," you remember Jerry's advice to you. "I should be more patient with you and more direct."

He waves his hand dismissively.

“You ain't got nothing to apologize for, sugar. I’m the one who’s been an arrogant ass for the whole of our relationship. But I want that to change,” he says.

Your gaze snaps up to his as his hands slide underneath your palms, grasping your fingers. He gently slides his thumbs over your knuckles with a smile.

“I hope this sets us on the right track," he continues. "And it’ll give us some time to get to know each other.”

“I hope so, too."

The waiter arrives to take your drink orders and just as quickly leaves to fulfill them. As you both settle in to peruse the menus, you glance up at him and smile. His eyebrows are furrowed as he concentrates on the menu. Your fingers absentmindedly reach up to touch the choker on your neck. It's hard to believe but there you are, in a restaurant in plain sight wearing a choker with the letters EP proudly on display for everyone to see.

It hits you that the paparazzi have taken snaps of you in it and that they're probably wondering who you are. What if you see your face on the front of a tabloid in the morning? Oh well, there’s little you can do to avoid it now. You agreed to wear the necklace and, to be perfectly honest, you don’t really want to take it off. The idea that everyone, even complete strangers, can see that you belong to Elvis Presley makes your heart soar with pride.

The waiter delivers your drinks, takes your food orders, and leaves you in silence. As soon as they leave, you place your menu down and lean forward across the table.

"So, Mr. Presley, what would you like to know about me?” you ask.

He takes a deep breath and considers you for a moment before speaking.

“What took ya so long?”

You tilt your head in confusion.

“What? I don’t understand.”

“What took ya so long to say what you wanted? I been waiting for you to say somethin, take an interest in this."

"I...didn't realize you wanted me to. I've never done this before. I just assumed you wanted me to wait for instructions, only do what you asked. I was waiting to be directed or told what to do. I was afraid I'd disappoint you if I did something that you didn't want me to."

"Trust me, princess. Nothin you could do would disappoint me. Cept I do wonder what you plan on doin with that black lingerie I sent you in the first package? I know you still got it."

"How could you possibly know that?" you shake your head with an embarrassed grin.

"I saw it peekin out of your bag one night. Why didn't you ever wear it?"

"I guess I was embarrassed. No one's ever gifted me lingerie before," you say with raised eyebrows, leaving out that you threw them in the trash amidst your rage.

"Hm," he says, rubbing his fingers along his chin. "Sounds like you been with boys, not men."

You can't help but smile as you feel heat creeping into your cheeks. You've certainly never been with someone who knew how to get you all shaken up like this.

"I do wish you was honest with me, though, from the start. Especially considerin how hard I had to fight to get ya here in the first place.”

You chuckle.

"What? Maybe I was just playing hard to get."

"Hard to get? Nah, baby girl, you was playin impossible to get. I thought I's gonna hafta send you a car or somethin."

"Oh god, no!" you both laugh. "Well, I'm glad I came when I did then."

The waiter returns with your food, placing the steaming plates before you. As they explain the dishes, you realize they have a slight accent and a thought pops into your head. Once the waiter has left, you bring it up to Elvis.

“Alright, my turn again. What were you and your manager arguing about?”

His eyes flick up and he stares at you for a moment before responding.

“Nah, it's nothin you should be worryin about.”

“Hey,” you reach out to touch his hand and his body freezes immediately at the feeling of your touch, “that’s part of what I’m here for, to support you. To be an outlet for you, right? Please tell me.”

His sea-blue eyes stare deeply into yours and the corner of his mouth twitches upward. He sighs and shrugs.

“I wanna take my tour internationally. I think the international crowd would really, really like to hear my stuff. We’ve sold millions of international records and I just…I wanna travel. I guess I got to travel to Germany when I did my service but that ain't what I mean. I wanna see places. Ya know, hit the sights, experience other cultures. I just wanna share my music with the world," his eyes are sparkling and you can't help but smile as you watch the passion light him up. His face falls when he utters the next sentence. "But Colonel’s worried about security and safety and all that.”

“Yeah, I overheard that. I also heard him say something about snow? What did he mean?”

“Ah, snow’s the Colonel’s word for money. It's...hard to explain."

“Well, for what it’s worth, I think you should just go for it. Just do it, with or without him. I know for a fact that your show would do wonderfully internationally. I hope you get to see all of those places someday.”

He smiles sweetly and digs into his plate. You continue the conversation, talking about what you’ve been up to in your own lives since you met for the first time at Russwood Park in 1956. Since you both pretty much know what Elvis has been up to, you’re the one who speaks for the majority of the conversation. You most definitely accidentally reveal too much personal information at more than one time during the conversation. As the restaurant starts to clear out in the late evening and you’ve finished your meals and dessert, the conversation turns more intimate. You find yourself a little woozy from the wine that you’ve been drinking and much more touchy than you were when you first arrived. You’re both leaning over to table to be closer to each other, your fingers intertwined as they rest on the table top.

“Can I...also ask why you were so worked up last night? About me making plans with Max, I mean. I did ask you if I could date other people and you said yes.”

“I did. And you can. There’s absolutely no reason that you shouldn’t. I just overreacted, that’s all. I didn’t realize you two were seein each other and I thought maybe he was botherin you or somethin.”

“You weren’t…" you tilt your head coyly, "jealous, were you?”

You stare across the table into his gaze, his bright blue eyes twinkling with amusement. His lids are closed ever so slightly, probably from the relaxation brought on by the entire bottle of wine you’ve shared, the majority being consumed by you. His lips are slightly parted and look extra red in the soft light of the candle flickering in the middle of the table. As you stare at him in this lighting, it once again hits you how handsome he is, how masculine and angular his features are. You gulp. He chuckles quietly and drops his gaze.

"You," he points his fork at you, "asked two questions in a row, darlin. My turn."

You bite your lip and return to your dinner.

"What made you decide to come?"

"What to Vegas?"

"Yeah, what made you finally say yes?"

"Oh," you're taken aback by his question that you, truthfully, don't know the answer to. "I'm not sure, actually. I guess..."

You pause, thinking over the events. Money, of course, but you both know that's not a good enough reason to move your whole life for him. What was it...curiosity? Temptation? You know he wants an answer but your brain is tying itself in knots.

"I really don't know," you finally say, although you can feel that's not quite it. "I'm sorry. I wish I had a better answer for you. But I don't."

He nods, wrapping up his napkin and placing it on the table.

“Well, I think we got our fill tonight? Of food, at least,” he smirks at you and your heart flutters.

“Absolutely, Mr. Presley. Dinner was incredible and the limo and everything…I can’t thank you enough,” you respond.

He stands and holds out his hand for you. You take it and he helps you out of your seat. Surprisingly, you manage to avoid the paparazzi on the way out, although you don't miss Elvis' warm hand on your back as he guides you down the stairs.

“I's thinkin maybe I could show you my room when we get back. I’d sorta like ya to see where I live,” he says once you're securely in the car. You brighten up.

“I’d love that! I think it's really cool to see someone's bedroom. It really shows you who they are on the inside, when no one else is around, you know?"

He chuckles and you wonder what could possibly be in store for you. When you arrive back at the hotel, you repeat the same process of getting out and making your way upstairs to Elvis' room. In the lobby, you veer off toward the elevators but Elvis catches your wrist at the last second and pulls you in the opposite direction.

“Where are we going?” you ask.

“You’ll see.”

He pulls you along into a narrow hallway, probably a passage for the hotel staff. You walk until you reach an elevator at the end of the hall. It looks quite old and not in very good shape but it’s an elevator nonetheless. When it opens, Elvis gestures for you to enter first so you walk into the space and the doors close behind you.

When the elevator doors reopen, you find yourself walking into a secluded hallway, no noises anywhere to be heard. You glance at Elvis and he gestures to the floor in front of you. He leads you toward the penthouse room and smirks at you as he opens the door.

Your eyebrows immediately shoot up as you step into what seems to be the living room. All of the furniture is of the best quality, velvet and marble, manufactured in royal colors like red, blue, and gold. All of the surface tops are shined to perfection and glinting impossibly bright. There are decorations on the walls like gold records, framed photographs, awards, and other objects which look expensive. You laugh in awe as you enter the room further, turning in circles to see everything you possibly can.

“Holy shit…” you mutter to yourself.

“What do you think?” Elvis asks as he closes the door behind him.

He enters the room and stands beside you as you take in everything you’re looking at. Each object in the room screams wealth and power and influence.

“It’s incredible! I’ve never seen anything like it in my life,” you reply, glancing up at the golden chandelier above your head.

“Good," he says. You freeze when his fingers snake around your waist. He leans down, his wet lips tickling your ear as he whispers. "I got somethin even better to show you. Somethin very special, just for you, princess.”

You turn your head just slightly until your cheeks are gently brushing together. Your eyes flutter closed as his warm breath ghosts over your cheeks. Your chest aches with anticipation and you can barely inhale, overcome with temptation.

“Would you like to see it?” he whispers, holding his hand out for you.

Without even opening your eyes, you slide your hand into his. His fingers close around yours and he pulls back. When you finally look at him, you're blessed with his dark, drunk eyes and sexy smirk. He leads you through the majority of the apartment, crossing through several rooms including a second living room and a music room, until you finally arrive in front of a door in his bedroom.

The door is tall but skinny, painted red in contrast to the strikingly dark blue walls in the room. You glance over at him as he lifts a painting on the wall next to the door and retrieves a key from under it. You momentarily wonder what he could possibly be showing you. He glances back at you with a smirk and then holds a finger up to his lips and whispers a quiet “shhh”. You feel your insides flip and your lips part with a heavy breath.

Your eyes drop down to the key and remain on it, unwavering as he clicks the key into the lock, turns it, and then pushes the door open.

─────•~❉᯽❉~•─────

Reblogs, likes, comments + feedback are extremely appreciated! Please help support your content creators!

**If you notice any triggers or grammatical errors that I missed, please let me know! :)

taglist: @mrsjna @floralcyanide @austinbutler17 @slutforsomegoodlettuce @datsavageavenger @misspygmypie @yourfriendhenrywinter @queenslandlover-93 @kittenlittle24 @slutforblueeyes @theliterarybeldam @guns-n-queen @x-earthangel @adoreyouusugar @butler-trouble @kaycinema @mamaspresley @dontbesussis @littledanette @yagirlalexx @hangmanswhore @dark-as-love @adoreyouusugar @gemstone9 @austin-butlers-gf @dollfaceyourfear @tis-the-season-of-the-witch @coldonexx @austin-butlers-gf @sagesolsticewrites @mommy-maia @atombombbibunny @lexlexl3x @solo-pitstop-vibes @hopefulinlove @lordandmistress @domaniquessidehoe @elvismylove-blog @amiets2 @itsametaphorbriansblog @powerofelvis @beautyofelvis @austinstyles

#elvis #elvis 2022 #austin butler #milasfics #milaselvisfics #milasthings #milaselviscontent #sugar daddy elvis #daddy issues

[whump-n-comfort]

🔪 this is a sideblog! if you see interactions from a blog called @halorocks1214 in your notifications, that's me :)

🩹 on that note, I go by Halo! I use she/her and he/him pronouns and am proudly aroace 💚💜

🔪 I'm one of those guys that has always been into whump as a kid—I REALLY enjoyed the kidnapping episodes in animated shows lol—but didn't have a name for that enjoyment until I got onto Tumblr and immediately felt at home with all y'all cool people 😎

🩹 as you may have seen by this blog's title and description, most of this blog's motif is sharing hurt/comfort content! I will be upfront and say that I project a loooot onto my faves, which is why I like to see them comforted so much (touch starvation is a bitch 😔) and in general prefer "soft whump" most of the time or explicit happy endings for the harder tropes i'm into

🔪 however, I still also enjoy whump because of its core foundation: being able to beat the shit out of your favorite character. sometimes, I will find something that does not have comfort in it that I want to share because it's simply too good not to! if all you're here for is that sweet sweet comfort, feel free to blacklist the tag #no comfort to avoid those sparse posts :)

🩹 outside of that, I tag art as #art and gifs as #gif as well as gifsets as #gifset when applicable; #whump trope for the posts that get more descriptive and #whump prompt for the posts that are more quotes/"fill in your characters here"-type interactions; #whump meme is self-explanatory and #whump community is for sharing love to all you lovely people out here browsing this corner of Tumblr; I occasionally tag #fave whumpee on characters that have stuck with me through the years (characters in the tag liable to change as time goes on); and of course, #~my stuff~ are the posts where I'm OP; #before whump was here is a cheeky tag I use for specific moments I remember feeling strong whumperflies for growing up but still had yet to learn about the term "whump" lmao

🔪 everything else is up in the air as tagging goes. I try my best to catch as many descriptors in a post as I can, but I'll admit some stuff could slip through. let me know if you think a post is missing something and I'll be sure to add proper tags 👍

🩹 my squicks are mainly things like pet whump, mind break, forced full-nudity, betrayal/broken trust between close characters (if it's because of a "twist villain" then that's fine), and heavy NSFW, so, for the most part, you won't see those on this blog, but my philosophy has always been that if it has comfort, I'm willing to give it a shot, so even if it's really rare, it could happen. remember to just let me know if I'm missing a tag!

🔪 my inbox is always open under the "💌 insert rambles here 💌" button if you ever wanna submit whumpy thoughts. I try to post everything I get, so feel free to hit me up! all answered asks regardless of what they contain will be tagged with #ramble tag

🩹 I will occasionally take requests in the form of "[A] replied to [B]" scenarios, sentence starters, or if you are feeling particularly nice, requests about my OCS! (questions and inquiries about them are always welcome regardless of request status) be sure to watch the "REQUEST:" blip in the description to see whenever they are open as I will switch "CLOSED" to "OPEN" to signify they are, and if they are open because of something like an ask game, I will convert the status into a link that will take you to the original game so you don't have to scroll through a bajillion things to get to it

🔪 as mentioned, this is 99% a SFW "soft" whump blog, but I still support my more NSFW and otherwise "dark" whumpers! I am a firm believer in that there is no "correct" way to enjoy whump. whatever your reason is that makes you enjoy it is valid and as long as you are properly tagging your content then keep on doing stuff that brings you joy :) we may not interact with each other all that often because of squicks or personal preferences, but just know that I will have your back and defend your right to write whatever you want ❤️‍🔥

🩹 I do believe those are all the topics I wanted to cover, so if you managed to make it this far, thanks for checking out my blog, and most importantly, the whump community in general! If you decide to stay, well, then hope you enjoy it to your fullest capabilities :D

#about me #GOD i wanted to make a shorter info post and just ended up making one twice as long how do i ACHIEVE these things- #regardless i got an influx of new followers (hello!!) and figured it was time for me to update a few things #esp since ive been attempting to interact with my blogs in a new way #also next post is my 800th post and thought it would be funny if this was it lmao

[confoundedluna]

i'm bored so i'm gonna rank some until dawn ships i think, these are all personal opinion, y'all can ship what you want, i don't think there's anything inherently wrong with any until dawn ship apart from shipping the Washingtons together, no incest in this household y'all

anyway, here goes :) i'm just gonna start with the major ships, if I miss any big/popular ones let me know, maybe I'll do a part two of this, who knows

Josh x Sam

This one i'm iffy on, I think they're incredibly cute as friends, and Sam's ending line about them having a connection is heartbreaking, you can tell she was probably the closest of the group to the Washingtons besides Chris

I personally headcanon Josh as gay with some major comphet, so I think he mistook his closeness with Sam - either lesbian or bisexual, I go back and forth, but queer in some way - for romantic feelings

As a ship? hmm like a 7/10, there's definitely worse

Josh x Chris

I am such a strong lover of Climbing Class, best friends to lovers your honour, I think after the game if you subscribe to the belief that Josh is somehow rescued and helped (which I do let me Live) then they would definitely need some therapy together but then again they all do

anyway you can just tell how close they are from their nicknames and their casual interactions and especially how Chris rushes to rescue Josh after The Stranger turns up

official rating, I think a 9/10, not perfect but love them :)

Jessica x Mike

as the gif says, they are so freaking cute, I am in absolute love with them. they definitely have some issues from Em, could probably do with some couples therapy, but nothing beats the way Mike rushes to save her when she gets dragged away

just. aaaaaaa. that is all.

honestly dropping the 10/10 here, even if they need the therapy - I wholeheartedly ship them

Chris x Ashley

y'all can hate Ashley all you want but I love her and I do genuinely like her and Chris together - yes I ship Chris with both her and Josh, let the man get some bitches smh they're cute

obviously she can do the worst thing and let him be locked out but y'all act like you wouldn't be pissed if the person you loved and thought loved you too did actually try to shoot you without question

anyway ship rating 9/10, they're cute, sue me

Jessica x Matt

I was surprised to find how common this one is? but the more I thought about the more I was like 'holy shit wait yes I love them'

I think they'd have some shared guilt over missing most of the night - obviously they both encounter the truth in the mines, but they never learn firsthand things like that that is Hannah or about Josh screwing with them, so there's definitely solidarity there

romantically I think about an 8/10, not my first choice but I definitely appreciate them

Emily x Mike

so Emily and Mike, we only get a brief glimpse at them actually together, but Emily seems possessive and later hung up on him, maybe it's just her feeling betrayed because Jess got with him and they were friends?? but I don't like them together

ship rating, like a 2/10, because in another lifetime they could have been a power couple ngl - he's class president, and she's got a 4.0 and is on the honour roll, honestly pop off

Emily x Matt

Emily and Matt, their relationship is kinda tainted by the Mike and Emily stuff, but they are adorable in the DLC scenes together and Matt especially is clearly devoted to her from his ending interviews, could probably do with some couples therapy too

ship rating, like a 5/10, maybe 7/10 if you keep their relationship high and get their positive scenes, forever salty that the DLC wasn't just part of the regular game

Chris x Mike

rounding out with this one because I've seen it a surprising amount in fanfiction and it always throws me off?? so I just wanna mention it - I kinda get where people come from, they have a fun dynamic in their few scenes together

however, as an overall ship, I definitely have others that I prefer, and I just don't find enjoyment in this one that I assume the people who write them do, the jock and nerd dynamic is cute but I don't see much substance behind it

rating wise, I'll give it like a 4/10, nothing wrong with it as far as i can tell, just not my cup of tea

so that's this post done, I know there's some more common ones I could have mentioned, but i'm happy with this for now, I'll see if I feel up to another part at some point :)

also remember, again this is just for fun, the only ships from until dawn I will actively hate on are any Washington incest ships, thank you

#until dawn #my ships #until dawn ships

[madhattersez]

K-POP BIAS CHALLENGE: JAN 2023

(PART 2 OF 2 BECAUSE I'M RIDICULOUS)

Again, I should start by saying that this is a two-parter because I'm a doofy Pan that can get attached to members of groups even if I just casually listen to them (Seriously, though - K-Pop is a wonderland for Pans because there are just SO many incredible personalities out there, UGH).

I made all the gifs below to show you the exact moment I knew they were for me. Enjoy!

Yunjin (Le Sserafim) Solar (Mamamoo)

Starting with my newest bias on the list - Miss Yunjin of the extremely talented new-ish group Le Sserafim.

She was in America for most of her life, and that has given her a large distinction - She's just as talented as her groupmates and syncs perfectly when it comes to dancing and singing, but it's obvious that she's completely unfazed by things that culture shock the others, and has made it her personal mission to challenge a lot of issues in the industry.

A prime example would be this solo music video that just came out a few days ago, which she also did the art for, about the fucked up things about pop fandoms:

I was taken aback by this and have been sharing it like crazy since.

Other than pushing boundaries, a special talent she has is professional opera singing, which is pretty unique in the industry.

I was undecided on a bias until I saw the Studio Choom performance of "Antifragile" shown above, withher just lighting up the whole video with all of her facial expressions and the dopest denim outfit, haha. There's a lot of "good trouble" in those eyes.

-------------

And now, the smollest (but eldest) member of Mamamoo - Solar!

For quite awhile, Hwasa was my bias in Mamamoo after a very short, initial trial with Wheein. :P

This was another one of those "switch flip" moments where I was suddenly like "Shit. Solar has been here THE WHOLE TIME. What was I thinking!?"

She is so good with her super-powerful voice, no matter the genre. In a group like Mamamoo (that are basically the best vocalists in the entire genre), standing out as the best is a hard thing to do. But, here she is, doing just that for me.

Her solo tracks are what started sparking me over to her side, but the clip from the above video is what came in like a wreckin' ball - When she spent a bunch of time learning the choreography for a song in a body-tracking arcade game called "Dance Evolution," even while being (playfully) dissed by her members, and then went into an arcade and just owned that shit. And look how happy she was to accomplish it!

Won me over, right at that moment.

Here's another example of her playful personality - A clip of her recording part of a Jazzy song about how much she wishes she had a big ass (because big asses are awesome):

Taeyong (NCT-127) Taeyong (SuperM)

This shit cracks me up so bad.

While making a list of known biases for this post, and not a second before, I came to the realization that my (casual) biases for both of the groups mentioned above... is the same dude. Hahaha. Wow.

I know practically nothing about these groups except that SuperM was a combined group of other groups' idols (a lot like GOT the Beat is), and that their "Super One" album is nothing but bangers, but that's about it. And I've also picked up several NCT jams over the years.

Never did I expect that the guy that caught my eye in both groups was the same person, though. It's hilarious, and it makes a lot of sense. This is Taeyong, y'all.

Jesus, the swag on this guy. Look at him prance-glide sideways in that first clip. Look at him growling in that second one, which I definitely understand is a weakness of mine now.

Talented dude. Attractive as hell. That's all I know, but that's all I -have- to know right now, yeah?

Check out the first video I saw him in, a song from that no-skip "Super One" album:

Rima (NiziU) Kyujin (NMIXX)

Okay, okay, I get it. This is a K-Pop bias list and NiziU is a J-Pop group. I understand that, but I'm also a hapless JYP fangirl and I just had to include them on the list because Rima is a bias to talk about regardless.

Am I about to say "swag" again? Sadly, yes. She's one of the rappers in the group and definitely has the highest swag level. This is somehow evened out by how adorable she is at the same time.

We've established that I gravitate towards rappers, but she's got it in her lineage - She is the daughter of the super-famous Japanese rapper Zeebra. That bit of story made her interesting from the get-go and I've dug her ever since.

It was the rap break from "Chopstick" pictured above that sparked everything for me for sure, though.

I'd like to include the video because it's super catchy and because I want to see if you find her sticking out throughout the video like I did:

-------------

Next up? Yup, another rapper. It's Kyujin, who is also (surprisingly) the maknae of JYP's most recent group of ladies: NMIXX.

Her English, while adorably misplaced sometimes, is so confident and wonderful. Her singing is so pretty and her flows are so fresh. Don't worry, I Won't say "swaggy" this time. She has, I think, the most vibrant and unique personality of the whole group, and that's from a group that aimed to be quirky right out the gate.

She's incredibly talented, and only trained for about three years before recording the first songs for the group.

I'd like to showcase one of her pre-debut, live vocal videos where she was originally qualifying to be a part of the group. She's too rad:

Seulgi (Red Velvet) Sieun (STAYC)

I first saw Red Velvet's music video for "Ice Cream Cake" in my earlier K-Pop adventures, but I'll never forget how much Seulgi stuck out to me.

She hit me with a combo attack - The radar-jamming, hard-to-read, slightly... angry(?) eyes, her polar opposite of a sweet voice, the bright colors she was wearing in the video, and the fact that she kicks off the whole song as the center. Yup, hooked right from the start.

And did you see her and Irene in their sinister lil' duo track "Monster?" Geezus:

Seulgi was an easy choice. Except a flicker of nanosecond time when it was Joy. But that was just a flicker. HOLD!

-------------

Holy shit, it's Park Sieun. Sieun (not Seeun, who is in the same group... yeah) is from STAYC. STAYC, I hear, is a real, reeeeal hard group to pick favorites from, much like Itzy - They're all immeasurably talented on equal levels.

Sieun's got the edge for me, though. She debuted as an actor originally, and that comes into play with the subtle emotions and fades in her singing. The performative lines and precise, but soft details in her movements. Her effortlessly natural facial expressions. She's absolutely flowing with personality and that all wraps into an ethereal combination of visuals to go along with her honestly angelic voice.

Positively dangerous. Troublesome, but not in a "good trouble" way. In a mischievous way.

And, oh my goodness, her (again, effortless) high notes:

Felix (Stray Kids) Jooyeon (Xdinary Heroes)

Would you just peek at Felix. Lookin' like a mix between Link from Legend of Zelda and Alucard from Hellsing or some shit.

He hails from Stray Kids, which I consider to be the most talented group of dudes in K-Pop right now (Sorry, BTS stans, I know, I know - Remember, I'm all about that swaggy rap stuff, and BTS isn't that as much anymore).

Felix is one of the Australians in the group, so he's got that accent, which is always bizarre in juxtaposition when around his members. He can move like a basilisk. His voice goes hella deep and toasty. And, my god, he's got freckles.

Aside from all the seemingly thristy statements that just tumbled out of my keyboard, he just seems to be a genuine good guy that would sit down with you and hear you out, heart-to-heart for hours if you needed him too. A "do anything to make your life better" type of friend. The duality is incredible.

Here's a bunch of silly clips of him conversing in English with the other Stray Kids:

-------------

Another casual bias - Hey, it's Jooyeon from JYP's rock group Xdinary Heroes. Don't make me pronounce that out loud, let's just focus on Jooyeon, damn it.

He's got such a pretty, haunting singing voice in the beginning, then you can listen to him hit American-Emo-band overdrive on his vocals at about 45 seconds into this video and during the chorus, and then you can hear yet another style tone at around 1:38. Versatile and awesome:

I really dig his looks and that shadowy / shady / emotionless thing he's got going on.

Oh, and, uh, he plays bass too, huh? Yeah, I suppose so. Haha.

--------------------------

So, did you dig this? Lawl, I'm acting like this is a trend that will catch on or something. Who knows? If even one person other than me does it, I'll be happy. Besides, I'm just here to have an excuse to gush about my favorites anyway! Everything past that is all plus. 😅

If you want to do this, too, you in no way have to go as HAM as I did creating this long-ass post. I just got super passionate about it and got carried away. As usual.

#kpopbiaschallenge #yunjin #mamamoo solar #taeyong #kyujin #niziu #seulgi #sieun #jooyeon #stray kids felix #stayc #le sserafim #mamamoo #nmixx #red velvet #xdinary heroes #solar #felix #nct 127 #superm

[therockettrio]

#I know the gif's out there but y'all missing out the best part #the sound makes it 10 times better #meowth #team rocket #pokemon

[xjoonchildx]

snapshot | jhs x reader

summary: after a day at the beach, hoseok has some surprises in store for his longtime love

pairing: hoseok x reader

genre: fluff, smut, fluff OH MY GOD SO MUCH FLUFF y'all i apologize

word count: 4.7K

notes: this fic is a commission fic for the lovely @wwilloww as part of the @armyadvocates fundraising initiative to stop hate crimes against AAPI. miss willow asked for an old house, candles and soft smut as well as a mystery box. i did my best to deliver on all counts because willow is amazing and deserves all good things.

thanks go to @hobi-gif @ladyartemesia and @btsarmy9593 for beta reading parts of this story, thanks so much for keeping me on track ladies! a very special shoutout to @sahmfanficbts who helped me come up with a very *key* part of this plot.

warnings: no one dies? no one is in danger of dying? who am i? standard smut, unprotected sex. liberal sunscreen use. low air quality due to paint fumes and sawdust. references to yoongi, who we can assume is cranky offscreen, references to @untaemedqueen first suggestion of what was in the box.

Warm.

Hoseok is so warm right now, inside and out. He stretches his long body out on the length of his beach lounger, enjoying the feeling of the sun beating down on his skin. His buzz is mellow and pleasant. He lets his eyes drift shut, lulled into a lazy calm by the sounds he can hear all around him.

The steady lap of the waves against the shore. Kids laughing as they run around on the sand. Off in the distance, a bluetooth speaker thumps out a song that’s too far away for him to recognize. And after a few minutes, another sound.

Your bright laughter, carried to him on the breeze.

God, he loves that sound.

“You are such a lightweight,” you tease. Hoseok can hear the smile in your voice. “Two beers and you pass out on me.”

He cracks one eye open to find you standing beside his lounger. The early evening sunlight streams through the strands of your dark hair and warms your bronzed skin, bathing you in a kind of golden halo. He gazes up at you, languid and content.

“I’m not passed out,” he argues with a slow grin. “I’m relaxing. Come relax with me.”

Hoseok doesn’t give you a chance to accept his offer, leaning up to grab your hand and pull you down into the narrow space beside him. You laugh when he wraps his arms and legs around you like a starfish, pulling your back flush against his chest.

“I’m just enjoying the perfect day,” he murmurs, nosing at the back of your ear, “With my perfect girl.”

“Flatterer.”

Hoseok can’t see you rolling your eyes, but he knows you’re doing it anyway. Just like he can’t see the way you flush and he knows you’re doing that, too.

“We should eat,” you say after a while, shivering when he strokes the pads of his fingers up the soft skin of one bare leg. “Grab something before we have to take the bikes back.”

Hoseok hums under his breath as he slides his palm up the curve of your thigh, boldly searching for trouble under the hem of your sundress. You bat his hand away and he laughs, hugging you tighter.

“Alright,” he agrees in a whisper, ghosting his lips down the nape of your neck. You jolt in his arms when he sinks his teeth into the curve of your shoulder, nipping playfully. “Just a quick bite.”

There’s not much difference between a sundress and a négligée is there?

Certainly not from where Hoseok is sitting, anyway.

He studies you as he rides close behind, watching the way your hair whips in the breeze as you pedal. One delicate sundress strap slips down your sun-warmed shoulder, exposing just a bit more of your back. Then the wind grabs a hold of your sheer skirt, lifting it just long enough for Hoseok to get a glimpse of the pretty white panties underneath.

God, he loves those panties.

Could stare at them all day, really.

But instead he forces himself to pedal faster and take the lead, grinning when you take note of his advance and glare. It’s for the best because while you think this is just some meandering evening ride, he’s the only one who knows where you’re really headed. For the best because if he falls off his bike and breaks his face because he’s too busy staring at your ass, the entire night will be ruined before it has the chance to start.

It’s quiet on this street just a few blocks from the shore.

Dolmeori Beach is rockier, more wooded than the beaches preferred by most tourists and that’s always suited Hoseok just fine. When he was a kid, he’d steal away when the weather was warm and hop the train here from Gwangju any chance he got.

It’s always felt like his place, his personal piece of sea and sand.

Pine trees loom high over the pavement, canopies so dense they block out much of the waning sunlight streaming down from above. The shade beneath the leaves makes the heat bearable, but it also makes it hard to judge the time. Hoseok steals a quick look at his watch.

Right on schedule. He hopes Yoongi followed his instructions to the letter.

“Hurry up, slowpoke,” he teases over his shoulder, and he chuckles at the sound of frustration you make as you pedal faster to catch up. It takes a few seconds for you to coast into position at his side.

“You still haven’t told me where we’re going,” you fuss, “Wanna clue me in?”

Hoseok turns his head to smile at you, sly like a fox.

“You’ll find out when we get there.”

The realtor had said the place would need a little love.

Turns out, it needs a lot more than a little. But Hoseok was able to see right past the weathered wooden porch and salt air-worn paint right away. When he found this place online, he knew it was the one.

He slows his bike to a stop as the two of you make your approach, taking note of the warm light that glows just behind the frosted glass pane in the front door. Looks like Yoongi came through.

“What is this place?” you ask, skidding to a stop beside him. You stand over your bike on tiptoes as you survey the house, brow knit in confusion.

“It’s a surprise,” Hoseok grins, hopping off his bike. He shoves the kickstand into place and offers you his hand, which you accept with a suspicious smile. “Wanna go in?”

“Yeah sure,” you shrug. “We’ve probably already stolen these bikes. What’s a little breaking and entering on top of that?”

Hoseok laughs, leading the way to the front door.

He cringes when the porch floorboards creak loudly beneath his feet, making a mental note to put that project next on his to-do list. You stand with arms crossed, watching silently as he crouches down to lift the mat at the front door, fingers feeling beneath for the concealed key.

You stop him with fingers wrapped around his forearm when he gets to his feet.

“Wait,” you whisper frantically. “We can’t just walk into someone’s house, Hoseok.”

He chuckles before leaning down to kiss the adorable confusion right off your face. Then he slides his key into the lock and pushes the door wide open.

“Not someone’s house,” he corrects, watching you peer skeptically inside.

You step slowly through the threshold and scan the candle-lit front room before turning to him with wide eyes.

“Our house.”

“You bought a beach house.”

It’s the third time you’ve said it by now, and not once has the hushed observation been directed at Hoseok. You said it when you brushed your fingertips over the freshly-dried spackle on the living room wall, said it again as you passed your hand over the base coat of stain on the mantle over the fireplace.

You say it again as you turn to him, jaw slack with disbelief.

“You bought a beach house.”

“Yeah,” Hoseok admits sheepishly, uncertain of your reaction. He tries to see the room the way you must see it now, candles and tools scattered across the tables, floors covered in drop cloths, cans of paint and plaster stacked up in the corners.

Yoongi had done a decent job of clearing up most of the clutter before he left, but judging by the astonishment on your face, he’s probably been romanticizing the mess in here.

He’d really hoped to have a lot more done the first time he brought you here, but he’s learned the hard way that some home renovation projects don’t go as smoothly in real life as they do on YouTube. The process has been a bit of trial and error, with a lot more error than he’d originally counted on.

“I know it doesn’t look like a whole lot right now,” he says, rubbing awkwardly at the back of his neck, “But it’s going to look great when I’m done. Yoongi helped me sand all week.”

You shake your head like you’re coming out of a daze.

“Oh my god Hoseok, no -- ” you vow with a shaky laugh, “ -- no, this is incredible. This is amazing. I’m in shock.”

“Yeah?” Hoseok grins, relief melting over him. “I wanted it to be a surprise. I wanted -- ”

“ -- Wait,” you interrupt, one brow quirked high as you step closer. “You said… you said something important. You said this was our house.”

“Did I?”

You narrow your dark eyes at him and he chuckles uncomfortably, nerves kicking in for the first time tonight. The feeling -- and the occasion both call for more booze. Which he’s prepared for.

“Are you going to give me a tour?” you ask.

“Later,” he says. “After.”

“After what, Hoseok? You’re killing me slowly with all this suspense.”

“Hang out here for a second,” he instructs, ducking into the small kitchen. “I’ll be right back.”

It takes him no time at all to find the bottle of Moet he’s stashed in the fridge and the clean champagne flutes tucked away into the corner of his dutifully-dusted kitchen cabinet. He double-checks the contents of the box on the counter, making sure everything is in place.

Then he takes a deep breath.

Your brows lift in surprise when he walks back into the room with that box in his hands. You watch him set it down on the floor, saying nothing when he turns back to retrieve the champagne and glasses.

When he finally returns, you’re on your knees -- examining the package. Lips pursed thoughtfully as you press your fingers to the gold flecks on the fabric lid.

“Hoseok,” you whisper, flicking your gaze up to find his. “I have so many questions right now.”

You look so damned beautiful in this candlelight -- like you brought your golden glow from the beach indoors. Like you absorbed the sun’s rays and you’re emitting them now like some kind of superpower.

“Have a drink with me,” he murmurs, “And I’ll answer them.”

Something in the room shifts then; the temperature changes. The silly fun of the afternoon evaporates, leaving behind something heavy and heady. Hoseok knows you feel it too, when your half-smile slowly drops and you pull your lower lip between your teeth.

“Okay,” you agree softly, “Let’s have a drink.”

You watch him with those focused dark eyes as he pops the champagne. The drink bubbles over the lip of both flutes as he pours, on account of his haste and shaky hands. Then you take one of the glasses in hand and offer him the other, which he quickly accepts.

“To this surprise housewarming,” you declare, raising your flute for a toast.

Hoseok clinks his glass against yours, taking note of the way you watch him carefully over the lip of your glass as you’re tilting back the flute to take a sip. He decides he can’t keep you -- or himself -- in suspense any longer.

“You know how special you are to me, right?”

You make a face.

“Did you bring me to your new house to break up with me?”

Hoseok’s startled laugh turns into a cough and tears prick his eyes as champagne bubbles blaze a path up his sinuses.

“Yes,” he says dryly, once he’s managed to collect himself. “I figured dumping you by candlelight sounded like the most romantic option.”

You tip your head back when you laugh, light playing off the curve of your neck, your collarbones, the tiny gold pendant that sits in the pretty dip at the base of your throat.

God, he loves your skin.

Hoseok looks at you long and hard before lifting his flute to take a long drink.

“This is for you,” he says quietly, acknowledging the box out loud for the first time.

“What’s in it?”

“A human head,” Hoseok snorts, flinching when you reach over to pinch his leg. “Don’t be a pain. Just open it.”

Your eyes light with excitement as you smooth your hands over the lid and Hoseok can’t help but smile. But your excitement turns into confusion the moment you open the box and find the neat row of plain white envelopes inside.

“What is this?”

“Quit asking me questions,” Hoseok deadpans, pouring himself another drink. He tops off your glass, too. “And start at the front.”

You shake your head with a wry smile as you work the first envelope open, slipping your fingers in between the paper folds to fish out the contents inside. Hoseok sips his champagne as you produce the polaroid photo, head cocked to the side as you study it.

It was cold that day, he remembers that. You’d been bundled up in a pretty scarf and matching belted coat. In the photo, the mid-morning sun flares behind you, illuminating your profile as you squint up at a display of laminated menus.

“This is me,” you murmur, mouth quirking into a disbelieving smile, “At the coffee truck outside of work.”

“Yup.”

“We’d just started dating.”

“Yup.”

“How did you take this without me noticing?”

“Easy,” Hoseok laughs. “You stared at that menu for five minutes straight. I’ve never seen someone take coffee selection so seriously. Thought you were gonna order the most complicated drink in history.”

You roll your eyes but you laugh. So does he.

“Turn it over.”

You flip the polaroid over in your hands, eyes moving over the neat block handwriting on the back.

coolest girl i ever met

“This is the day I knew I liked you,” Hoseok murmurs, “Like, really liked you.”

Your eyes are a bit glassy when you look up at him now, the corner of your mouth tugging into a soft smile.

“You were that sure that fast, huh?” “Yeah,” he admits, scratching self-consciously at the back of his neck. “Yeah, I was.”

You move onto the next envelope, this time prepared when you pull out yet another polaroid picture. This one is harder to place, taken in the dark, mostly black but for a few splashes of vivid light.

“I don’t know this one,” you frown, ghosting your finger across one particularly colorful blur of red and gold. “I can’t make it out.”

You turn the polaroid over, looking once again for Hoseok’s neat block letters.

she’s into me

You laugh out loud.

“That was the lantern festival in Cheonggyecheon,” Hoseok explains. “I’d invited you, but you’d had plans, remember? And I was just going to get Yoongi to go with me but you called me last minute to say you’d decided to come.”

“I remember,” you say with a smile. “Yeri invited me to a movie, but I cancelled on her. I wanted to hang out with you instead.”

“Yeah, well that’s the night I knew you really liked me.”

“Cocky,” you smirk, reaching for another envelope. “But warranted.”

Your eyes light with recognition the moment you pull the next picture out. You’re crouched down at the edge of his mother’s koi pond, one finger making ripples on the surface of the water.

“First time we ever went to Gwangju together,” you muse quietly. “First time I met your parents.”

You flip the polaroid over.

pretty sure my mom loves her more than she loves me

“Okay, this might actually be true,” you tease, taking a sip of your champagne. “Your mom and dad love me.”

“Yeah, well that was the day I decided I loved you, too,” Hoseok chuckles. “The point where I kind of knew there was no turning back.”

You look up from the photograph then, eyes glassy with emotion when they find his. Candlelight flickering across your face as you look at him fondly.

“You still feel that way?”

“Hell yeah, I do,” he laughs, scrubbing a hand down his face. “Keep going.”

The next polaroid is a selfie of Hoseok in bed but it’s by no means sexual. There are dark circles under his eyes and his skin has a sallow tint. Next to his pillow, the bedside table is littered with cold medicine and empty cups.

“Is this when you had the flu?” you ask, flipping the polaroid over. The neat block lettering on the back confirms your theory.

she took care of me

“You were so pitiful,” you laugh, shaking your head at the memory. “Wrapped up in your blankets like a burrito. I swear, men have zero tolerance for discomfort.”

“I nearly died,” Hoseok protests dramatically. “But you dropped everything to come take care of me. That’s the day I knew you loved me, too.”

Your smile is brilliant now, open and sweet as you reach for the last remaining envelope. Hoseok takes another swig of champagne, slugging it down as you pull out the polaroid and study the image.

You are wearing your delicate sundress, leaned up against the wooden railing that separates the sand and rocks. Standing just next to your bike, nose in the air as you breathe in the salt carried on the wind.

“This is today,” you murmur, brows knitting together when you flip the picture over and find the back side blank. “And you haven’t written anything here.”

“Yeah, well,” Hoseok starts and stops, clearing his throat. “I haven’t had a chance to write it in yet.”

“Oh.”

“That’s the day I asked you to marry me.”

“Oh.”

You blink. Once, then again. Hoseok can hear the shaky breath you take in when your mouth parts in surprise. He sets his champagne flute down, sufficiently bolstered by the booze.

“So that’s what I’m doing right now. I’m asking you to marry me.”

You’re still mute with shock, eyes wide as they go from Hoseok to the picture and back to Hoseok again.

“But uh, the longer you don’t say anything, the less confident I feel about this entire plan,” he chuckles awkwardly.

You take him off balance when you throw yourself at him, wrapping your arms around his neck and your thighs around his waist. He keeps you both from toppling over with a palm flat to the floor, laughing as you pepper his face with kisses.

“So is that a yes?”

“Yes,” you sigh, pressing your lips to his temple, his neck, his jaw. “Yes. To you and to these amazing pictures and to this beach house. Yes to all of it.”

You pull away from him to grab the champagne, eyes flashing mischievously as you take a drink straight from the bottle. “Yes to champagne, too.”

Hoseok feigns shock. “Naughty.”

You kiss him deeply then, thoroughly, enough for him to feel the remnants of the carbonation on your tongue. You tease him with a barely there roll of your hips and his cock responds instantaneously, at the mercy of the warm friction he can feel straight through the thin material of his board shorts.

“You know what I’m thinking?” you murmur against his mouth.

“I think I’ve got a pretty good idea, yeah,” Hoseok chuckles, sucking a breath between his teeth when you bite the skin just below his ear.

“We have a lot to celebrate, right?” you reason, tone light. “But we came here for a housewarming.”

You lean back just far enough to pull your sundress over your head, tossing it carelessly aside, leaving you in nothing but those pretty white panties he loves so much.

“So we should warm it.”

Hoseok grins, pulling the champagne bottle out of your grip. He turns it up just like you did, finishing what’s left before setting it back down.

“I like the way you think.”

The only bedroom in this house is buried beneath a two-inch thick layer of sawdust right now.

Not that making it to a bedroom seems high on your list of priorities.

The fact that you’re both sitting on top of a drop cloth on Hoseok’s living room floor isn’t stopping you from threading your fingers into his hair, slipping your tongue into his mouth, grinding against his lap.

“You’re full of surprises, aren’t you?” you laugh, pressing your bare breasts to his chest once he’s managed to untangle himself from your limbs long enough to shrug out of his shirt. Your pebbled nipples drag across the lithe planes of his chest and his cock jumps in his shorts.

“Clever.”

“That’s me,” Hoseok murmurs against your lips, deft fingers slipping beneath the damp cotton between your thighs. He slides the pad of one long finger across your wet slit and you gasp, rocking against it.

“Gotta get you out of these panties,” he laments, pulling one nipple into his mouth and working it with his teeth. You shudder in his hold. “Quick.”

“What are you in such a hurry for?” you tease, circling your hips to chase the perfect pressure of his fingertips. “We have all night.”

“We have about three more minutes if you keep grinding on me like this,” Hoseok laughs, shifting your bodies to lean you back onto the floor. “So give me a break because I want to enjoy this.”

You lie back for him dutifully, dark hair spilling onto the drop cloth around you, skin gleaming in the candlelight. Your gold pendant twinkles at the base of your neck.

God, he loves the way you look like this.

Flushed with excitement and anticipation. Like a feast laid out just for him. He rids himself of those pesky board shorts as fast as he can, leaning over you on hands and knees.

“You’re gonna marry me,” he muses, burying his face into the soft skin under your jaw. “You already said yes, can’t take it back now.”

Your laughter is echoing in his ears as he trails hot, open-mouthed kisses along the curve of your neck, across the bronzed planes of your shoulder. He can taste the day on your skin; the ocean salt and sunscreen mixed with that flavor that’s so uniquely you.

“I don’t want to take it back,” you sigh, whimpering when Hoseok kisses a path down the velvety skin between your breasts. He travels lower, kissing just below your bellybutton as he starts working your panties off with one hand. “I’m gonna keep you.”

Hoseok chuckles as he tosses your panties away, off to somewhere unimportant. What’s important is the way you take a deep breath and hold it when his mouth hovers coyly over your cunt.

“Look at me,” he directs, peering up at you from beneath heavy eyelids. You open your eyes to meet his gaze, candlelight dancing over your pretty face.

“I love you,” he breathes, lowering his mouth to make contact with your clit. The air leaves your lungs in that moment, a soft exhalation of air that makes the hairs on the nape of his neck stand on end.

“I love you too,” you sigh, hips jerking at the contact, fingers digging hard into his hair. “So much.”

He knows you by now, knows how you like to be touched. Your rhythmic panting goes a bit ragged, when he slides two fingers into your cunt, crooking up to stroke you the way you like while his mouth works your clit.

God, he loves this part.

The part where you lose any semblance of control. The desperate sounds you make when you start to come apart beneath his mouth and hands.

“Hoseok -- “ your voice is strangled when you call out, “ -- Hobi, I’m gonna come.”

Something about the way you say his name goes straight to his dick. He grits his teeth when your nails dig almost painfully into his scalp as you start to tremble, shuddering against his mouth.

“That’s it, baby,” he soothes, pinning your hips down with his strong hands, keeping you from pulling away from the pleasure that borders on pain. “That’s it. Sound so good when you come for me.”

Hoseok stays face first in your cunt, nose and tongue pressed against you, until he’s certain the last wave has come and gone. Between his own legs, his cock pulses painfully, leaking pre-come at the thought of finally being inside of you.

Your body twitches with the aftershocks of your release as he slowly kisses his way up your thighs, your mound, your stomach.

“How was that?” he asks with a teasing tilt to his mouth, stealing your ability to answer when he kisses you deeply, fitting his slim hips between your legs. He reaches down to grab his stiff cock, sliding it across your slick entrance. You clamp your thighs together to tighten the drag and he groans at the friction.

“Amazing,” you sigh, dragging your nails over his ass, up the lean muscles of his back. “Perfect. You should let me return the favor.”

His dick practically jumps at the suggestion, stomach contracting hard at the prospect of feeling your pretty mouth wrapped around it. But Hoseok is too worked up, too riled up by the alcohol and the excitement.

“Can’t tonight,” he pants, arousal shooting up his spine when you wrap one hand around his now-wet cock. You pump him lazily, trailing soft bites from his jaw to his shoulder. “Need to be inside of you.”

“Yeah, I’m ready for that too,” you admit, guiding the blunt head of his cock to your entrance.

He surges forward then, pushing past the tight grip of your fingers, groaning as he’s enveloped completely by your warm cunt. You whimper at the stretch, locking your legs around him, gasping when he bottoms out.

He pulls back to the tip only to drive in again, earning another strangled moan. You’re squirming beneath him, breathless and dewy, looking like some kind of wet dream.

“I’ll never get over how good it feels to be inside of you,” Hoseok admits, burying himself as deep as he humanly can into you.

You’re so wet he can feel you spilling out onto the base of his dick and for one fleeting moment he wishes you knew how good this feels for him. How wet and hot and tight you feel around him. How being inside of you like this makes his brain go haywire, reduces him to only instinct and need.

You lift your hips to meet each snap of his, the wet sound of your joining echoing off the walls in this mostly empty house.

He hears you moaning his name in between the other sounds you make, in between the panting and mewling that makes his balls tighten. You grip his forearms as he grinds against you, kissing you in between desperate breaths.

“I think I’m gonna come again,” you gasp against his mouth. “Don’t stop.”

“Oh, fuck,” Hoseok groans, pulling back to get to his knees. He hooks one of your legs over the crook of one strong forearm, using his one free hand to press a thumb to your clit. His rhythm falters as he watches himself slide in and out of you, hypnotized by the sight of his body joined to yours.

You lift your ass off the floor, back arching as you chase the pressure of his fingers. Hoseok strokes you desperately, feeling his orgasm looming menacingly at the base of his cock. It takes just a few more strained pumps of his hips to set you off.

The second he feels you clamp down around him, Hoseok folds back over you, arms braced on either side of you as he thrusts through his own orgasm. He shuts his eyes and groans as he empties his cock inside of you, thrusting until he can’t anymore.

He collapses onto you, heart racing as he tries to catch his breath.

“Don’t leave me,” you groan when Hoseok peels his damp skin away from yours to get to his feet.

He strides across the room, completely nude, grinning when you turn onto your side and go up on one elbow to ogle him.

“Just for a second,” he calls out, pulling out every unorganized drawer in the kitchen until he finally comes across a pen. “Gotta finish something.”

He makes a show of holding it in the air as he walks back into the living room, opening the gold-flecked box, and pulling out the last unmarked polaroid photo.

You’re smiling the entire time you watch him pen the last caption on the last photograph.

she said yes

tag list!

@japzalileo @dionysusrage @hey-itsmina @myimaginationsrunningwild @hauntedlilies @spring2787 @suppbeccc @veronawrites @minyoongiboongi @katbonv

#hoseok smut #hoseok x reader #jhope smut #jhope x reader #networkbangtan #ksmutclub #bangtanarmynet #thebtswritersclub

[teenandbeyond]

Steve Rogers x Fem.Reader

Lol, I didn't expect this Gif to be so big, but oh well. I did Loki, so I'm doing Steve now. Edit: This turned out better than I expected, I would honestly make another part.

🛡️Old Soul🛡️ (Marvel)

Warnings: Like...1 curse word, cute, (sorry but he's not as infatuated with Peggy, y'all), age difference (but we knew that already)

Steve didn't think he could fall in love at first meeting again...until he met you. Of course, the Avengers teased him for your age a little. Yeah, you might've been young, but you were an old soul.

☆*: .｡..｡.:*☆☆*: .｡. .｡.:*☆

There were times Steve needed to escape from the tower for a bit, too much foreign technology and things he still didn't understand. He was glad there were still parks around, although there weren't as many social interactions as there were in the '40s, people got phones and laptops now. But he didn't need that, he just wanted to relax and enjoy his escape.

He took a leisurely stroll, well, as leisure as he could be being Captain America in New York, but he avoided places he knew were crowded to get here, and now he just needed a place to sit.

"🎶Got a knockout style and the cutest smile, love that boy🎶"

His head sharply turned, it wasn't often he heard someone sing a song from his time, nor a voice that beautiful. You sat on a wooden bench with earbuds in your ears, your knees propped up for your head to lean against, your pretty [Eye Color] eyes looked off to the side.

"🎶With his baby blue eyes and his droopy bow ties, he's the king of the hoi polloi🎶"

You smiled to yourself, your finger tapping to the beat.

God, she's beautiful, Steve couldn't help but think.

He sang the next part to himself with you, "🎶He's a graduate, he's a fashion plate. The chicks all call him a righteous gent🎶"

He decided he'd join you, you didn't even realize that for a second, you made Steve feel at home.

You glanced up when you noticed someone sit beside you, but unlike Steve expected, you only smiled at him and continued to sing, but softer.

Respectful, you were getting better by the minute.

"🎶--than be President. He just is what he is, the technique is all his. Boy, it's the real McCoy🎶"

He silently finished the last lines with you.

You pulled out your phone, stopping the next song from playing.

"So. To what do I owe the pleasure of Captain America joining me?"

Your speaking voice was almost better than your singing voice, he was doomed.

"Well, I guess I was drawn in by your voice, Miss," Steve confessed honestly, "Speaking of, I was surprised to know people still listen to my music."

You chuckled to yourself, "It's a secret I have, so don't tell anyone. I listen to a lot of older music, in my opinion, some of the best music came from the '40s to '90s, everything after came from those times."

"Now, I know you listen to music on that device," Steve furrowed his brows trying to think of how to say his words, "But how do you find songs from so far back with the tap of a button?"

You giggle to yourself, "I'm sorry, I'm not laughing at you--Okay, I am, but it's just cute," you show him your screen, "Right now, I'm on a playlist, which is a collection of different songs--you'd probably understand if I told you it's similar to an album list, just with tons of different songs and genres."

He nodded attentively looking into your eyes briefly.

Gosh, you thought his eyes were pretty.

"There are different types of playlists. Some are unorganized and can range from jazz to hip hop, or some are more organized to a music genre or generation, like Pop Music, '80s music, '60's music, and so forth. But with older songs, technology has gotten so crazy that it can...hm...in a way print the music from records and things and make it easier to find or listen to...Ah, I can't really explain it, but it's something like that."

"It's okay, I was just curious, besides, I get the point."

"What's got you at the park?"

"Sometimes technology can get a little much for me, I wanted something more...ah..."

"...Natural? Organic?" you guessed.

"Yeah, that," he gave a little laugh.

"I can't even imagine, this is a completely different era for you," you placed your feet back on the ground.

"Definitely, but I can't stay stuck in the past, it won't do me any good," he sighed, resting his elbow on the bench on the empty side.

"So, Captain," you smirked, "Have you ever gotten the chance to listen to any newer music?"

He hummed in thought, "Ah, not really. Why?"

You offered your wireless bud, "Well I can catch you up a little. I wouldn't mind a dreamboat like yourself hangin' with me for a bit," you decided to tease him, "unless you're too much of a geezer to spend time with me."

He grinned, "Did you just call me old?"

You made a so-so motion with your free hand, teasing smile on your lips, "I mean, you technically are."

He snorted as he took the earbud, "You're just young, kid."

"Oh, so now I'm a kid? Says the man that can't put in an earbud when he's been unfrozen for way more than a year."

"I'm not quick to adapt to technology, okay? Can you help me?"

You shook your head fondly, turning over and placing it in for him.

He sighed to himself at the small space between your faces, your knee pressed against his outer thigh, your gentle fingers brushing against his ear every second or so.

You pulled away to sit beside him, scooting a bit closer, "Alright, I don't want to scare you at the jump in music so I'll start with the '50s or '60s and go from there."

Steve didn't know how long he sat there with you, enjoying music, enjoying your company, listening to your voice. He was hooked and you hadn't even meant to, but he was already being reeled in with no effort.

After a while and you realized the time, you told him he should probably get back before others get worried he got lost, but not without his number (you praised him for at least mostly knowing how to use a phone). On his way back he got a notification, you'd sent him a song you recommended to him.

☆*: .｡. .｡.:*☆☆*: .｡. .｡.:*☆☆*: .｡. .｡.:*☆

A week later.

"Uh-oh, looks who coming up in the music game, you made it to the '80s," Tony teased when he walked into the living room.

Steve asked Jarvis to turn the song off from the couch he sat on.

"And he's been on his phone more lately," Natasha added.

This made Tony raise a brow, "The caveman? What made you want to get current all of a sudden?"

Steve got another notification that you'd texted, he could help but smile and text back.

"It's a woman, she's pretty," Clint spoke up from behind him, which made Steve jump.

You shouldn't do that to someone who was in a war.

Steve tilted his head back, meeting the archer's eyes, "When did you...?"

"Nat and I came up to get snacks before we went back to training. I heard your phone and got nosy," he answered the Captain before taking a sip from his water bottle.

"Damn, you're right, she's hot. Who's she?" Tony peered at your profile picture in Steve's contacts.

Steve moved it away, "Back off."

The younger men mockingly raised their arms.

"Relax, she's all yours. No need to get possessive over your girl."

"She's not 'my girl' Tony, we just met a few days ago."

"And you're already whipped."

"She looks pretty young for your age," Clint commented, he wasn't judging though, just curious how a younger woman got his attention.

"[Name]'s 25..." he half-heartedly answered, mainly focusing on trying to understand a meme you sent him.

Tony laughed, "You sure like the young ones, huh?"

"I'm not in my nineties if I haven't actually lived that time, Stark," he responded with a laughing emoji (one of the few emojis he used with you).

He'd been told that from you when he felt weird about flirting with you, you'd told him.

"Well, technically, I don't see you as your actual age. You were frozen all that time, you didn't actually live and experience those years, Steve. Besides, you're still cute with no wrinkles or health issues, I think that is pretty impressive for your age. A man like you is pretty rare now, that's not something that'll change my mind."

"She's more of an old soul anyway."

"So that's what it is," Clint realized.

"Still weird," Tony called back while he walked off with his blueberries.

"You're definitely into her, I can tell," Natasha talked around a strawberry.

"I am. I want to see her again--"

Beautiful💕🦋

hey, Steve. what do you think about meeting at a cafe tomorrow morning?

if ur free, of course? 😉

You

I'd like that. What time?

Well, he'd see you tomorrow morning then.

He just hoped that you enjoyed his company like he enjoyed yours.

Because he's already fallen for you.

#steve rogers #marvel mcu #captain america #steve rogers x y/n #marvel #mcu #marvel x reader #mcu x reader #marvel one shot #captain america one shot #steve rogers one shot #captain america x you #avengers x reader #steve rogers fluff #captain america fluff

[pappydaddy]

Enchanted (j.m)

A/N: Hello lovelies! To wrap up my 300 follower celebration, I am posting this! This was submitted by someone who I love to interact with - obx anon. They requested a blurb based off of Enchanted by Taylor Swift with the enchanting JJ Maybank. However, this did not turn out to be a blurb, it was a full-out fic because I could not help myself. What else am I supposed to do with Taylor Swift songs as prompts? But, yeah, this is like nine pages which isn't too bad, but still not a blurb. While I was writing I was thinking about doing a part two, but idk. If y'all want a part two, just let me know. Like I just need one person to tell me and I will do it. I already have ideas.

I've also been listening to Speak Now on repeat since I got this ask. Also, this, Wedding Crasher (re-write) and Part Two of A Lumberjack and A Mullet (and a rewrite of that) (these two fics are available on Stragner Things Masterlists) will be part of the eventual Speak Now collection once the album is re-released and after Folklore/Evermore + Fearless + Red collections are done.

Anywho, obx anon, I hope you love this lovely💛!

Pairing: JJ Maybank x fem!reader

TV Show/Movie: Outer Banks

Taglist: @rottenstyx

part i - you're here! | part ii​​

AU where the treasure hunt did not turn into what it is in the show. No Bahamas, no Ward/Rafe psychopathy, etc. Just a harmless, fun little adventure that brought Sarah and Kie together again.

Requested as part of an event by the lovely obx anon

Warnings: idk if there is any? Fluff? Some angst? Just someone falling in love with someone they just met. Mention of socio-economic levels, social status, etc.

masterlist | taglist | wips | navigation

- not my gif -

One would think the life of a rich kid would be easy, a dream within a dream - and for some it is. Y/N never was one to overlook the advantages and privileges she had in life thanks to her parent’s wealth, even if they weren’t all that wealthy. The L/N family sat comfortably in the upper class of life, they had the fancy house, the social status, but there were definitely richer families - particularly her mother’s best friend’s stepfamily. Rose Cameron was one of Y/N’s mother’s closest friends since their realtor’s course way back when and was the whole reason Y/N was forced to move to the small island in the Outer Banks of North Carolina. Missing the California lifestyle, Y/N found the incessant welcoming parties people have been throwing them a bit overwhelming but unavoidable. Part of being on the lower part of the upper-class scale was putting on the show.

So, here she was, faking a laugh as some stranger clutching a champagne fluke made some horrible joke. Dressed to the tens, almost all of the Kooks of the island were gathered in the Cameron’s extravagant house, having just finished a fancy meal and currently waiting for the patio to be reopened to allow them to meander back out to the bar. One thing Y/N noticed about Rose and the Cameron’s - they loved to show off their wealth. “Y/N, dear, why don’t you tell everyone about your shot at a prestigious scholarship- actually, I’ll tell them.” Her mother boasted yet again, her gentle hand being placed on her shoulder blade that was exposed by the thin, crisscrossing straps of her satin dress. Faking a smile, Y/N stayed quiet as her mother tried to up their social standing to the group of adults.

“Say, Mr. Carrera, we should get together for a round of golf, I’ve heard the course at the Country Club is amazing. Perhaps we can get the wives and children together the same day, give us a bit more freedom, am I right?” Her father laughed with one of the other men in the small cluster, branching from the others.

“Please, call me Mike,” The man corrected him politely, before tipping his champagne fluke towards her father slightly. “And I think I’ll take you up on that offer, maybe your daughter could help set an example for mine, we’ve been having problems with her lately,” Mike whispered the last part to Y/N’s father quietly as if it were top secret information. “Actually, she’s here somewhere, she’s probably outside helping her friends, some of them are working the party-” Mike cut himself off, looking over the heads of the crowd gathered in the base floor of the Cameron’s house. “She’s walking in the door now, Kiara!” He yelled her name, waving her over.

“Y/N, come here for a moment please,” Her own father spoke softly but with a harsh tone daring her to not comply. She did as he asked, her heels clicking against the expensive tile for the few steps it took to approach the two, another pair of heels joining them seconds later. “This is Mike and his daughter, she’s about your age.” He gestured to the man and (presumably) Kiara as she settled at her father’s side rather reluctantly.

“This is Kiara, Kiara, this is Y/N,” Mike introduced the two girls, prompting them both to smile politely at each other. “Maybe you two could hang out and talk for a little bit?” Her father suggested, giving Kiara the same tone Y/N’s father gave her seconds before. Forcing a smile onto her face, Kiara agreed.

“Sure, come on, I’ll introduce you to Sarah.” Kiara nodded her head towards the crowd, leading Y/N away from the stifling conversation of adults trying to kiss up to one another. The pair walked in awkward silence. Y/N could tell Kiara didn’t take too well to her parents using her or these parties to climb the social ladder either from the way her back flexed as she pushed her way through the crowd.

“Just so you know, I didn’t suggest that. They forced it upon me as well,” She let her know as the crowd started to thin, the two girls approaching the outskirts of the party. Kiara nodded, humming in understanding as she led them into another room with fewer people. “I didn’t even want to come to this, but my parents are determined that we need to be highly regarded in the eyes of these stuffy people - no offence, your parents seem nice-” She ranted, not even noticing that Kiara had stopped.

“None taken, my parents force me to these places for the same reasons and they are no better than any other parent at this party,” Kiara told her earnestly, making Y/N nod, thankful she understood what she was getting at. It seemed Kiara knew the tiredness and loneliness Y/N often found herself battling thanks to her parents' incessant need to appease people. “I think Sarah is outside, they just opened the doors to let everyone out so you should stick close to me, it’s like a feeding frenzy once the bar is open.” She advised, grabbing Y/N’s hand before she started pulling her towards the large glass doors of the room they stood in, following the stream of people searching out the expensive alcohol stashed behind the bar.

Y/N stumbled slightly, looking at the vast difference between what the outside patio was when they ate and what it was now. It was alive with string lights wound around the canopy and the lanterns littered through the grass. With the silver moon and the glow of the artificial light, it looked like a scene from a romance movie, but Y/N highly doubted the presence of some dashing stranger at a party primarily attended by middle and old-aged men. “Hey, Kie,” A girl's voice spoke from ahead, pulling Y/N’s attention from the setup. At the end of their small path, stood a blonde girl with her dress and her hair flowing in the summer breeze - making her look like a goddess, the lights creating a halo on her head. Her round cheeks became rounder as she smiled such a gorgeous smile Y/N was almost awestruck. “Who is your friend?”

“This is Y/N, the same Y/N this party is for, correct?” Kiara looked back at her for confirmation.

“Uh- Yeah, that’s me. Y/N L/N.” She confirmed with a startled nod, reaching her hand out for Sarah to shake. Gently and almost royally, Sarah shook her hand, the smile never leaving her face. Y/N had to take a moment to take her in. She looked so beautiful, it was almost like she was a princess - the main character of the romance movie they appeared to be in. While she was welcoming to the invitation of this beautiful girl into her night, Y/N couldn’t help but feel ridiculous that she let herself believe she would be the main character for the night.

“Sarah Cameron, Rose and your mom are friends,” She asked, earning another confirming nod from Y/N who found herself at a loss of words. She hadn’t expected to meet people who would actually want to talk to her, let alone people who she would actually want to talk to. She had assumed that everyone close to her age would be pompous, arrogant and self-righteous. “Rose hasn’t stopped planning this party or talking about your family moving here for at least six months. I welcome it since that means she’s distracted.” The blonde noted as the flowing music from the live band started to weave through the crowd. Y/N couldn’t help but look around. The backyard was practically flooded with people. Very few people were squeezing through the crowd with trays held high and most were the guests.

“So, this place, is it all rich people,” Y/N asked nervously. Leave it to her social status chasing parents to move her to a place filled with out-of-touch snobs. Sarah and Kiara started laughing, making Y/N brows furrow in confusion. “What? What’s so funny?” She pressed, looking between the two girls as they leaned against each other, their laughter fizzing out. Heat crawled up her cheeks as they wheezed for air. Had she misjudged the two? Were they really just like everyone else at the party? Or did they two feel the same dread and exhaustion she did at these parties?

“It’s nothing to do with you,” Sarah reassured her kindly, almost reading Y/N’s mind entirely as she righted herself, fixing her dress. “But I can see why you would think that since all you’ve gotten to see so far are parties trying to out-do each other. The island is much more than that.” She explained, her voice calmer now as she tried to wipe her eyes of the tears that were forced out by her laughter.

“It’s not all rich people who live here, but most of Figure Eight wishes it was just rich people - trust me on that-” Kiara was cut off by Sarah pointing off in the distance.

“My brother, over there,” She paused, making sure Y/N found the right person. Following the line of her finger, she spotted someone about nineteen standing around with a bunch of other guys, all nursing a scotch that didn’t appear to be sipped from yet. The group of them, they were exactly the type of guys she would suspect to be here. All sporting expensive coats and watches in such a flashy way it almost blinded her. “He’s one of those people so it might be best to steer clear from him the best you can.” She advised, letting Y/N take her attention away from the dirty blonde.

“Our friends are from The Cut, they are all working the party,” Kiara spoke again, rolling onto the balls of her feet, trying to see over the loud crowd. “Pope, he’s the smart one, is on the grill helping his dad.” She pointed over the heads. Peering around some people, Y/N spotted the boy almost completely hidden behind the open cover of the grill, only his backwards hat sticking out over the silver cover. He worked frantically from what she could see, his elbow poking out from behind the cover every few seconds making her assume he was wiping his forehead.

“John B is bussing tables, he’s my boyfriend.” Sarah smiled dreamily, pointing over to a boy swiping empty glasses from the tables already. Y/N could see him a lot better than Pope. He was tall, with sunkissed skin that she wasn’t sure was natural or from spending time at the beach, all matched with flowing brown waves on his head. Noting how Sarah gazed upon the brunette, Y/N could tell that their story was a great one that would be told time and time again and this was just another scene in their epic love story.

“I’m not too sure where JJ is right now, probably off somewhere hitting a blunt,” Kiara shrugged, searching the crowd for her other friend. “I’m sure you’ll meet him soon enough, you’re gorgeous and he’s JJ, he’s bound to flirt with you at some point,” She waved her hand, not concerned about her friend’s disappearance. “Hey, my parents are flagging me down for some stupid shit, I’ll find a way to keep in touch with you, Y/N, you seem cool!”

“Thanks, you too!” Y/N called after her, a bit shocked about being called cool, but Kiara was too far. Cringing when she saw a few people turn towards her, their noses in the air in disapproval. Sarah, having watched Kiara begrudgingly make her way to her parents, looked back at Y/N, a wide smile back on her face. Opening her mouth, she wasn’t even able to make a sound before an older blonde with a huge headpiece came rushing over to her.

“Sarah, you need to go find Wheezie, she’s MIA yet again and the Buchanan boy is looking for her. If we manage to get closer to them, they might hire me to sell their summer home in Peru.” The woman pleaded rudely, making Sarah send an apologetic smile towards Y/N as she was dragged away - leaving Y/N alone with her own thoughts once again. Sighing, she slowly turned to face the party once again. Spotting Kiara with her glowing complexion and white dress, she watched as the Carrera’s introduced her to some wealthy couple as if she were a show dog.

“So much for me actually enjoying the rest of this party.” She mumbled dejectedly as she grazed over the dance floor, almost completely occupied by people just standing there talking. With a warning glare sent from her mother, she stood up, plastering a fake smile back on her face, a facade of happiness and contentment being built back up. She had assumed by meeting Sarah and Kiara, it would open the door to actually having a decent night, but of course, for rich parents, it wasn’t a decent night unless they used their children to boost their egos and position within society. Suddenly, she found a boost of morale when her eyes spotted another busboy. On the other side of the sea of fancy dresses and suits, stood the most beautiful boy she had ever seen. Clad in the vest, crisp white shirt, and slacks that every other caterer wore, his blonde hair was perfectly styled in a way that told her it was normally a wind-tousled mess. Just by standing there, he had her completely speechless.

It was when he turned his face slightly towards her, his magnificently bright eyes landing on her, that she felt every ounce of vacancy, insincerity, and loneliness leave her body. Gone was the need to flick her eyes over the crowd, hoping that Kiara or Sarah would find their way back and rescue her. Now, all she wanted to do was stare at this boy and take in all of him. From how the yellow-tinted glow from the bulb lights reflected off his tanned skin to the way his eyes whispered to her from across the lawn. For the first time the whole night, she didn’t have to hide her true emotions and feelings. Instead, the awe and the smile she was feeling and showing were one-hundred percent real. Reaching across the dance floor, the words his eyes were trying to convey reached her like a message in a bottle. ‘Have we met before?’ The (what appeared to be from this distance) azure blue eyes asked her.

Heat rose in her cheeks once again, dusting them a noticeable pink that appeared to be a good enough answer for the wondrous boy. In a blink of an eye, she saw his silhouette weave through the crowd, his eyes locked on her frame no matter how many twists and turns he had to make around people. The bus pan originally clasped in his hands was left abandoned on the table, but it appeared that he didn’t care. When he finally stood before her, his chest rising and falling, slightly breathless from the trek to her, she found herself not worrying for him anymore. Shifting her eyes to accommodate the new view she had of him, her eyes locked with his yet again. The same eyes she once believed to be a light shade of azure were really a captivating cerulean. “Hello.” She breathed out, her breath being fully taken away by his presence.

“Hello, lovely lady,” He flirted, his eyes drifting from hers to flick around her face, taking in the features he hadn’t been able to see from across the lawn. “I haven’t seen you around, I would have remembered a face like yours.” He flirted so shamelessly and boldly. It didn’t even matter that Y/N had heard that exact same line thousands of times before - it was almost like a whole new line as it dripped from his lips but she couldn’t let him know that; not yet anyway.

“You would think that someone with a face like that would have a better line prepared.” She quipped, letting her eyes freely roam around his face. A smile tugged on one corner of his lips, growing into a smirk as he let her take him in.

“I was too overwhelmed by your beauty, all I knew was that I had to get to you before anyone else. I can't lose my chance to some rich mommy-boy with ten pairs of Sperrys in his closet.” He winked, playing into the scene they had set. Y/N, unusually bold and flirtatious in this moment, shrugged, her eyes floating to the crowd behind the boy for a split second, almost like a trick to see if he would try to get her eyes back on him - which he managed to do instantly by reaching his arm up to scratch his ear lobe, his muscles flexing under the tight sleeve of his button-down.

“That almost makes me sorry to tell you that you’re about an hour late, I was already flirted with by three men,” She sucked in a breath through her teeth, mocking sympathy. It was true, part of having rich parents is dealing with their distorted morals. They would rather sit back and watch their teenage daughter get hit on by old married men than have to network themselves. “But, if it makes you feel better, you’re the only one out of all of them that I actually want to talk to.”

"So I’m not out of the running yet I see,” He hummed, laying his palm out towards her, her eyes dipping down to look at it for a second. “Care to have a dance with me?” He asked when her eyes reached back up to look into his. He felt the weight of her hand sinking on top of his, making his eyes drop this time.

“I’m Y/N, just so you’re not dancing with a stranger.” She introduced herself before he could start to lead her to the dance floor.

“Ah, the guest of honour, the lady of the party, we finally meet,” He bowed to her, making her let out a laugh. She cringed when she heard it, knowing it wasn’t a dainty little giggle like expected in the situation, but she couldn’t help herself but to laugh, he was bowing to her as if she were royalty. The boy didn’t seem deterred by her less than cute laugh, instead, there seemed to be a flicker of sparkle in his eye at the sound. At that moment, Y/N could have sworn she had fallen in love. “I’m JJ.” He returned the introduction, standing up, her hand still wrapped in his. Kiara had been right, he did find his way to Y/N and she didn’t mind one bit.

“Pleased to meet you, JJ.” She nodded, giving a little curtsy before she could stop herself. Fighting the urge to cringe yet again while her cheeks flared, she was grateful that JJ simply started to lead her to the dance floor. Stepping onto the small deck platform which Y/N couldn’t even begin to guess it was used for when there wasn’t a party. It was even brighter, with the outer perimeter of lights on top of the ones that lined the dance floor alone, it was bright enough to land an aeroplane.

Once the next song, a slower song, started to play and JJ led her in the dance, Y/N seemed to blackout. She could feel the heat of JJ’s hand on her waist, the other one holding her hand as if they were truly at a ball, waltzing the night away. She could feel his back flex from where her fingertips lightly touched his shoulder blade, the muscles rippling with every move he made. She barely registered the way the skirt of her dress billowed as he twirled her, her hair fanning out and her eyes closing with laughter only to be pulled into his body, flush against each other - her breathing hitching as she felt his warmth and abs, his face inches from hers despite the height difference between them.

“Maybank,” A shout dissolved the fairytale land they had plunged themselves into, making Y/N gasp, pulling out of JJ’s grasp just as his face had dropped an inch closer to hers. “Back to work or you don’t get paid!” The man gruffed aggressively before looking back at his clipboard, talking into his earpiece.

“Don’t worry, my lady, this shall not be the last you see of me tonight.” JJ reassured her with a wink, running back off to the side as the man started to approach like an angry bull. Y/N, still a bit shocked, watched him, hoping and wishing with all her might that he was right - it isn’t going to be the last she sees of him. Slowly, the crowd morphed, blocking her view of the blonde who bewitched her mind and soul to only think and need him, as if he was Elizabeth Bennet and she was Mr. Darcy.

____

Lo and behold, JJ had been right, it wasn’t the last Y/N had seen of him. With every shift of the crowd, she managed to find him on the other side of the room, his eyes watching her just like when she first saw him. Every time, a swirl in her stomach and heat in her cheeks plagued her - a side effect of his gaze. Though, as happy as she was that he hadn’t managed to forget about her, she still wished for him to find his way to her yet again instead of his eyes whispering to her across the lawn. It wasn’t until now, as she was nodding along half-mindedly as Rafe Cameron talked that he did. “The restaurant in the Country Club is the best. My usual table looks right over hole nine of the golf course which is also where I got a hole-in-one.” He yammered on, bragging.

A gentle tap on her shoulder ceased the conversation, making her turn her head only to see the blonde she was waiting for all night. Extending his hand to her, she noted a piece of folded-up paper between his fingers. “Excuse me, I was instructed to give this to the Lovely Lady.” He clarified as Rafe seemed to breathe fire at JJ’s presence, his eyes burning dangerously into him.

“Thank you,” Y/N smiled brightly, her eyes seeming to sparkle as she plucked the paper from his hand. Turning to Rafe, her smile became less authentic. “If you’ll excuse me, I have to see what this is.” She dismissed herself, walking off to the side of the party once again, unfolding the paper. It looked like paper from a waiter's pad, ripped hurriedly. ‘Lovely Lady, I sensed you were in need of rescuing.’ The note read. Even without his name and with just meeting him, she could tell it was from the messenger himself. Lifting her eyes from the note, letting them drift over the crowd until they landed on the sharp blue eyes watching her as he walked through the crowd yet again.

“We meet again.” He breathed out once he stepped up to her, standing only inches from her.

“Looks like it,” She nodded, amazed that he kept coming to her. She wasn’t used to that kind of treatment from people who looked like JJ. “Thank you for the note and thank you for the lovely night-” She wanted to tell him about how he managed to chase away any darkness clouding over her this whole party, or at least tell him how bewitched she was with him since the first moment she laid eyes on him - but her mother and father swooped upon her, sensing any shred of happiness she felt and crushing it.

“Come now, Y/N, you don’t need to thank the staff and it’s time to leave.” Her mother grabbed her elbow, pulling her from JJ before either of them could say anything else. Stumbling slightly, Y/N hiked the long, flowing skirt of her dress up, wide eyes watching JJ in shock and disparity - wanting more time with him because she knew too well that it wasn’t guaranteed that they would see each other again.

“We will meet again, Lovely Lady.” He mouthed to her before the crowd once again separated them, too thick to see through. Being dragged by her mother into the darkness of the night, the shining lights of the party disappeared as they rounded the house, but the magic never left her. Especially when she saw the blonde hair step to the side of the party, watching her leave. Too preoccupied with the blush filling her cheeks as she thought over the night, she barely registered her mother dropping her arm, the three walking silently towards their house next to the Cameron’s.

It was as if the entire world around her was sparkling as she floated after her parents, her mind consumed by snapshots of the night. From the shared glances to the way their fingers grazed each other when she took the note from him. It was purely whimsical and so magical that she was convinced it was all a dream she would be woken from any second. “You should go to bed, we have brunch with the Cameron’s tomorrow.” Her mother advised, but her words went in one ear and out the other as Y/N stumbled up the stairs, her dress balled in her hands carelessly. Biting back a smile, she tried her best to hold in her squeals and excitement until she was safely in her room, high above the ground and extravagant beyond necessity.

With a click of her door and a twist of the lock, she nearly bounced to her bed, squealing all the way. Her body felt like it was consumed by light, shining through the dark of her room, rivalling the moonlight and glow from the party next door as they glowed through the windows. She felt like she had spent the entire night fusing and bonding and now, she was burning a bright light just like the stars in the sky, only continuing to shine brighter and brighter as she thought back to the night.

Sighing dreamily, she flopped down upon her large bed, nearly being swallowed by the fluffy comforter and heavenly soft mattress. She was completely and entirely enchanted by meeting JJ. Her head was spinning as she imagined what it would be like to date him. Imagining him showing up to her doorstep, proclaiming his love for her as he told her that he was also enchanted and bewitched by her. Letting out yet another loud squeal, Y/N rolled onto her stomach, kicking her legs out of pure excitement and romance as she buried her face in her pillow, the wide smile on her face hurting her cheeks.

But, just like with every star, it is destined for demise. The burning, the growing, the bonding, and the brightness of her happiness weakened before finally bursting like a supernova. Shooting up in the bed, she rushed to one of her many windows, looking out over the party, watching as it died down. From above, she could barely make out who certain people were, but she could spot the blonde who took up most of her night easily. Standing off to the side with two more workers (she could guess were Pope and John B), along with Sarah and Kiara, all standing and talking as people bid thanks to the hosts. “What if he has someone else? What if he already met his own Elizabeth Bennet?” She whispered.

She gazed upon them, watching as they conversed. Sarah and Kiara seemed to be ordering JJ to do something from what Y/N could see. She furrowed her brows, leaning closer to the window, trying to figure out what was going on. Sarah’s arm flew out to the side, her finger pointed right at Y/N’s house, the group turning to it. Even with her room darkened other than the light through the window, she didn’t want them to know she was spying, making her fall to the ground quickly with a thud on the hardwood floor. Gasping, she laid flat, her heart pounding and racing. Flopping onto her back, she blinked up at the ceiling, looking at the distorted shape of the window filled in by light from the moon. “Please don’t have someone else. Please don’t let this night go.” She whispered, clasping her hands to her chest as she pleaded with the universe.

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[emperor-palpaminty]

Sundown (Pt. 1)

You're on the run with a very gifted child, and you come across a new haven- Maurader Valley and its sheriff.

Warning for mentions of guns, wild west style duels and fights and stuff, and cults because there were a LOT of cults in that time period of America and yes that IS a red dead gif, please don't hurt me, and also I've been playing a lot of Far Cry 5

Also, Omega isn't a super "wild west" name, so she's Olivia to y'all here, Hunter is fine so his name is sticking! And the Kaminoians are a cult in here, The Order.  Thank you @hellothere-generalangsty for letting me use this amazing AU! I had fun writing this! it was getting so long I need a part 2.

Also... Marriage of convenience to love trope, anyone?

"Miss," Two small hands tugged you out of the lull that the train had put you into. "Miss, come on. We should go," Olivia's eyes were bright, cautious, under her hat.

You blinked, rubbing your eyes and nodding, glancing around. "Alright. Is this-?"

"Yes. Our tickets said Maurader Valley."

Nodding softly you stood, picking up your carpetbag and Olivia's hand, walking her quickly to the door of the train. "Thank you for waking me."

"You're welcome." Olivia's free hand moved and gripped the fabric of your skirt, her gaze shifting around them. The words were sudden, shaky. "I'm frightened."

Your hands grasped hers gently, and you paused on the platform your feet landed on. You turned to her, kneeling down in front of her, making sure her dark eyes met yours. "I am, too." Your fingers squeezed hers, reassuring her that she was not alone.

Olivia's cognac eyes were far too wise for her age. It almost threw you off the first time you had met her, but that anxiety had been entirely replaced with an overwhelming sense of love for the child, which was why you were here, as far southwest from them as possible. "They'll have to get through me first, Olivia. You're safe with me." You reached down and gently readjusted the brim of her hat. "You've been so, so brave this whole time. I need you to be brave for a little longer."

She gave a small nod, her fingers squeezing yours in response. "I'm brave," She repeated to herself, in a whisper, as you stood and lead her towards the ticket counter.

___

Your thoughts were tremulous as the stagecoach bumped over a rock. You both had left so quickly in the dead of night, you doubted anyone knew you were all the way out here. At the very least, it would bide you time to get a little money or, at the best, find a loophole in the Disavowment- there were only two ways to leave the Order. They were old, they were stupid, but you didn’t know how long you could run before your past caught up with you.

Marriage or death. And you weren’t very pent on dying soon.

The stagecoach ride to Maurader Valley was long but uneventful. Olivia fell asleep with her head pressed on your lap, the bushels of skirts offering more support than a train window or a log. You smoothed a hand in her curls, the sunshine hair speckled with brown underneath at the base of her scalp.

The coach came to a halt. You lurched forward, grabbing for the window for support, and Olivia sat up. Her hands grasped you, eyes wide.

"Shh, it's okay." You gently took her and pulled her close, hugging her. "Just a quick stop."

Her breathing slowed, and she tugged away, quiet. She nodded, following you out. "This isn't a... Big town."

"No. Not really. But that's what we need at the moment." You exhaled, reaching into the carpetbag and tugging out a newspaper with a rustle. You'd seen it on the train- an advert, for Maurader Valley, seeking a school teacher. "Exactly what we need." You rolled the newspaper back up and tucked it under your arm. "Let's find some lodging and some food. Then we can talk to someone about the ad."

Olivia's head bobbed, and a giggle escaped her as you plunked the hat on her head. She followed you quietly, taking in the sights, whistling a little tune.

You pushed open the door to the general store. There was only one other patron, a lanky man, hassling at the counter with an older woman. You offered an apologetic smile for interrupting their hassling over what appeared to be a box of bullets. Olivia gave a chipper wave before following you, where you softly lingered by the dried goods. Your hand gently released Olivia's, and she wandered to the shelf, squatting down and looking at the dried fruits.

You reached down and picked up some dried jerky and let her pick some dried peaches. You tucked them on top of the newspaper as you wandered back to the counter. When you reached the front, you lowered the goods and the newspaper, watching the lanky man stalk out. “Grumpy,” You smiled politely, as the woman glanced at the goods. 

“Yeah,” She said, skimming you, brow in suspicion. “You ain’t from around here, are you?”

"No, I'm not." You offered a sheepish smile, back loosening when Olivia sprinted back to you and clasped your hand, giggling softly. "I had a question about the teaching position?"

"Still open. You interested?" The woman behind the counter eyed Olivia, who simply waved.

Your head bobbed curtly in a nod. "And a place to sleep and a hot bath. Please."

The woman's brows knitted as she drummed her fingers on the counter. "Hm. Name's Cid. I have a couple extra rooms upstairs, but it'll cost ya."

"That's fine. And the job?"

Cid sighed and motioned you to follow her. "That's the sheriff's question. He's also the judge around here. Good guy." Cid turned and locked the door to the general shop behind you and Olivia, tucking the keys back into her pocket on the apron. "Little scary at first, but he's a real softie." She glanced back at you both, frowning. "And don't go acting weird around him."

"No worries." You squeezed Olivia's hand, softly tugging her along. The last thing you needed was losing her in a new place.

Cid stepped up onto the wooden porch and opened the door, glancing in. "Hey, Hunter. We've got fresh meat."

"Bring 'em in," A gruff voice that you presumed was the sheriff chimed.

Cid motioned you in, and you slowly walked in, fingers tight on Olivia. "She's here for the teacher position. She has a kid, too."

"I think he can see that," Olivia piped up, chipper.

"Smart kid." The sheriff laughed, a warm sound. You turned to him, taking him in for the first time. He was young, younger than you would have expected, face creased with crows feet and laugh lines. A dark spray of a birthmark splayed across half his face, but his eyes were bright and brilliant. He knelt down by Olivia, grinning. "What's your name, kid?"

"Olivia." The child released your hand and took Hunter’s, shaking it. Hunter grinned at her, stopping to glance up at you. 

The window light caught his eyes, his gaze ambered in the sun, halos of honey skimming you. “And this is-?”

“My mum!” Olivia chirped. 

You smiled as Hunter stood, reaching out and gently shaking his hands. “Hi. I’m looking to be the school teacher?”

Hunter smiled and tilted his hat politely. “Thanks, Cid. I’ve got it from here.” He opened the door for the woman, then glanced at you and Olivia. “After y’all. I’l show you the schoolhouse.”

You gave a nod, following Hunter, watching Olivia run up and grasp your hand again. She beamed brightly up at you, whispering loudly, "I like it here."

"We've only been to two buildings." You chuckled and tugged up your skirt, moving up the wooden steps of what you assumed was the old school house. You accepted Hunter's hand helping you up, pausing and glancing around. "It's very nice," You stated, moving around, leaning over benches and the small desks. "Who's been teaching them?"

"Wrecker. He's nice, he's been reading stories to them and taking them out on nature walks stuff like that." Hunter leaned back on a desk as Olivia raced to the teacher's desk. "So, what brings you here?"

You flashed a smile, watching Olivia root through the books sitting by the desk. "The job."

Hunter's brow creased. "High class city woman like yourself, you move you and your kid out here alone?"

Alone, you recalled. The only way you and Olivia could live in peace were by accordance to the oath, their oath- death or marriage. You shuddered, brushing of the sensation that trying to forage a third option was unwise. You and Olivia were safe, for now at least, and that was all that mattered. You drew in a breath and watched Olivia sit down with a book. "Yes."

"People only come out here for two things. They're either trying to find something or they're running." Hunter's brows raised. "Which one are you doing?"

"A little of both."

Hunter paused, then smiled gently, crossing his arms as he looked over at Omega. "We're here for you either way. I think you'll both have a nice life here."

___

Olivia had issues fitting in at first with the other kids. She was more reserved, soft, and the other children babbled, bounced, sung, and Olivia would look back at you. Over the days, you would nod, encouraging, watching her run outside to play with the others outside of the schoolhouse. You leaned on the railing of the steps, the wood creaking as it supported you.

Olivia was happy here. She was with other children, and finding herself, and opening up. Here, in the warm sun, away from the cold buildings and winters and even colder people. You shuddered away the cold thoughts, the oppressive gazes and eyes; now was not the time or place, and you were safe here.

You wrapped your hand around the rope to ring the bell for the kids to come in, pausing, looking up at the sky. It threatened rain. You tugged on it, twice, allowing the rings to echo. "Come on! Let's get inside and stay dry." You called.

The children flocked, tugging at one another and laughing, Olivia in the mix.

You hurried inside, helping the children gather their slates and chalk. "Quickly, run home before the storm hits." You called, picking up Jek's hat and plunking it on his head. "And I except your numbers done tomorrow!"

"Can I go ahead to the general store?" Olivia trotted by, hesitating for a moment.

Your hands froze, wrapping around a book. "Well..." You glanced at the door, frowning for a moment as you thought. You would rather Olivia get back dry, and cleaning up for the day would take a while. "I suppose." You exhaled, walking her to the door. "Oh- there's Wrecker." You waved at him, catching the gentle giant's attention. "Let him walk you to Cid's." You paused before she walked, gently taking her shoulders and turning her towards you. She blinked up at you, brow arched in puzzlement.

"Erm... Are you okay?"

"Yes," You cleared your throat and smiled, looking her over. Pride swelled within you as you stood- Olivia had truly blossomed here, and she was exactly what a child should be, carefree and energetic and willing to explore the heights and widths of the skies and valleys. "I'm just happy for you."

Olivia grinned up at you, waving as she lolloped dow the steps. "I am, too. Thanks, mama!"

She called you that put of habit, you knew, but it... You pressed a hand against your beating heart and watched Wrecker scoop Olivia up, chest swelling with joy. You hurried back inside and began stacking books, sweeping the chalk and pencil shavings off the floor. By the time you finished sweeping, the rain had already begun to pound on the roof.

You hummed, softly, a tune that was circling in your head. Your fingers wrapped around a stack of books and you heaved them off the student's desks, walking towards your own stationed at the front of the classroom. You jumped as the door slammed open, the books dropping with a heavy thud.

"Pardon, ma'am." Hunter slammed the doors shut, fighting against the gusts of wind outside, and he turned to hurry to you. "Here." He knelt down, grabbing the books and stacking them on his arm. "I didn't think it would startle you."

You exhaled and got on your knees, picking up the books one by one and loading them onto the desk. "It's alright. The storm probably caught the doors." Your fingers brushed his lightly as you reached for a book and they tingled, so you diverted your grip to another book.

"Just saw Olivia wondering back to Cid's with Wrecker. Didn't want you to walk alone in this." Hunter stood. The stack of literature rested easy on his arm. "Where do you need these?"

"My desk." You picked up your own stack and followed him, lowering the books by him. You averted your gaze, cheeks flushed. "So you... Came here when it started raining?"

Hunter shrugged, a soft smile playing on his lips. "Yeah. I know the weather can get nasty, and I didn't know if you had an umbrella or anything-"

"It wasn't necessary, but thank you." You paused, glancing at the window. "I would appreciate a walk back."

The easy-going grin twisted your heart in tangles. "Pleasure's all mine, ma'am." Hunter nodded. He yanked off his coat and held it up, rushing to the door. "That rain doesn't wait on us."

You nodded and tucked your shawl around you, hurrying after him. The jacket provided you both with minimal shelter, but his laugh made you laugh, and the rain didn't seem to bad. The mud clung to your boots and hem as you both ran across the first road, ducking under the first porch (the bank) that came available to you. Hunter's laugh filled the air, and he shook out his jacket, glancing at you. "Sorry about that." His loose hair, wet, curled tightly and stuck against his forehead.

You shook your head and leaned on the post, watching the rain. "I like the rain. I never knew how much I missed it."

"It didn't rain where you're from?" Hunter frowned. "Lands almighty."

You shook your head, pausing, chest tight again. You could only remember curling up and watching the rainfall from a tight window, knees against your chest. "It did, but I wasn't allowed in it." You said, softly. You glanced down at the street, watching puddles gather before overfilling.

Hunter watched what you watched, the water rolling in small streams down the road. "What are you running from, exactly?"

You turned to him quickly, gathering your shawl closer. His eyes followed you, the deep intensity pressing on you. "I think it's better you don't know that." The words were soft, strangled coming from your throat.

Despite looking away from him, you still felt his eyes on you, heavier than the water drenching your clothes. The weight of it came back, recalling how cut off you were, attempting to run and being dragged back, your parents disapproving stares as you longed to be out of the commune, and watching Olivia grow and only wanting her to have what you never did-

A hand smoothed over your face, the coarse pad of Hunter's thumb brushing away the tear. "You don't have to tell me anything," Hunter said, gently. "I'm just concerned for you and Olivia."

Your eyes scanned his face, lips parting, swallowing hard. "It would be too much for you."

"Nothing is too much," He said, quickly. "It's my job." Hunter paused, then draped his coat around your shoulders. "Here. Let's get you back to Cid's."

Your fingers held the lapels of the coat as he walked with you, quiet. "Thank you," You mumbled, softly walking. Hunter hummed cordially, guiding you to Cid's. His fingers were light against your back as he led you into the front door on the saloon side of the building.

Wrecker was sitting on a chair with Olivia in the opposite side, and he was frowning at the cards in his hands. "You're too good, kid." Wrecker mumbled, a hand scratching his head.

Olivia giggled, nodding, unruly curls bobbing. "I guess so." She glanced back at you and Hunter, and she grinned. Olivia hopped down and ran over, hugging your damp dress. "Mama, I'm beating Wrecker at gambling!"

"Oh goodness," You sighed, as Hunter threw back his head and laughed.

"Now, Kid." Hunter tugged a third chair to the table. If you wanna learn from a real pro, you have to learn from me."

Olivia bounded back over to her seat, crawling up. She chattered about her day- what she learned, recess, and walking back in the rain with Wrecker. You observed briefly, smiling softly as Hunter tapped on Olivia's card, softly telling her how to deal and count.

Fingers leaving the doorway, you practically floated towards the stairs for your room. Cid looked up from counting cash on the counter. "Is that Hunter's coat?"

"Yeah." You said, softly, climbing up the last couple of steps. You heard Cid mumble something about how Hunter never let anyone borrow his coat, and your heart, for some reason, floated even more.

___

Cid woke you up, yanking the blankets off your body. You sat up, Olivia stirring next to you. "Get up!'

"Why?" You asked, rubbing sleep out of your eyes. You stood and grabbed your bag, anyway, listening to Cid.

"There's a man downstairs. Said he's looking for you and the kid!"

Your heart jumped in your throat, and you turned to Olivia. She stared up at you, eyes still coming to from the deep sleep she was in, brimming with fear. "Don't let them take me," She whispered.

You scooped her up, glancing around. "There's a window. Let's-"

"He's waiting down there." Cid hissed. "Go out the back. I have a wagon out there, you can come back for your stuff later."

You nodded, wrapping Hunter's coat around you and running down the stairs. You turned back, glancing at the window, and you swore as you turned tail and ran that there were two red eyes watching you in the window.

___

You were awakened again, this time by a large hand grabbing you. You yelped and threw out a fist, hand meeting an arm. "Whoa, whoa!" Hunter grabbed your hands, gently. "It's me."

Your breath quickened, the warmth of Olivia gone. "Where is she?"

"She's inside, asleep." His grip moved to your shoulders, and your eyes adjusted well enough in the night to see the outline of him. "Are you okay?"

You nodded, your own hands moving up to clasp his arms. "Hunter, they're coming," You mumbled, legs feeling loose, shakey again.

"Who?" He said, gently. You only shook your head, shoulders sputtering, and the sob heaved out of you. "Who wants to get you and Olivia?"

You glanced up at him, chest tight, head pounding. Words balled up in your throat, lifeless, thick as paper. Hunter gently moved an arm around you and pulled you against his chest, smoothing a hand over your back.

You recalled nothing else except for Hunter catching you when your knees slacked and your vision went black.

___

You only woke up when you felt warmth besides you. You sat up, abruptly, looking down at Olivia, who gasped. “Are you alright?”

You shuddered, looking around. “Are we still with Hunter?”

“Yes.” Olivia plunked down besides you, running a hand in her own blonde hair. There was a pause before she said softly, “I told Hunter.”

“You told him?” You inhaled, sucking in a breath, heart twisting. “What will he think?” Your palms broke out in a sweat, shaking. Possibilities ran through your head- Olivia and you being on the run again, alone in the wilderness-

“He took it well.” Olivia reached up, gently taking your face in her small hands. “And he knows everything.” 

You shuddered again, reaching down and hugging her. She hugged you back, quickly, her hold comforting you this time. You closed your eyes, heart aching for this girl, the daughter you did not deserve.

The door creaked open and you glanced up. Hunter stood in the doorway, looking at you and Olivia. He offered a gently smile and entered, gently sitting down on the foot of the bed. “Olivia told me everything about the Order.” His eyes flickered to yours, and he laid a gentle hand on your blanket, looking between you and Olivia. “She told me how you took her and ran.”

You nodded, cradling the girl, who had turned her attention to Hunter as well. “What are you going to do?”

Hunter inhaled, scratching his head. “I’m not making you leave. If this is where you want to be, then you’ll be here.” He paused, swallowing. “But you can’t be alone. Olivia told me there’s only two ways to keep the Order from coming after you, and I can’t have y’all dying on me.” He inhaled, sharply, and he reached up, gently taking your hand. “Which is why I’m asking you to marry me.”

#tbb western au #hunter x reader #bad batch hunter x reader #hunter x you #bad batch hunter x you #bad batch reader insert #bad batch #clone force 99 reader insert #minty writes #hunter

[samanthalightning]

She's Got A Date- EoWells x Allen!reader- Part 8 (Alternate Ending)

*Credits to the owner of this GIF*

Part I | Part II | Part III | Part IV | Part V | Part VI | Part VII | Part VIII (Other Ending) |

A/N: Welcome back y'all!! God, I missed writing so much. I just want to thank @elfwoodfae for requesting this, and having so much patience with my writing speed lol. Aside from being an amazing person, she also writes equally amazing stories. So if you have the time, please check it out. Here's the link

Warnings: FILTHY SMUT. Angst (as per usual). Grumpy Cisco lol

***

This world can hurt you

It cuts deep and leaves a scar

Things fall apart, but nothing breaks like a heart

And nothing breaks like a heart

How did it get to this? You do not know. All of the past few weeks were a blur, and yet the horrors of it never seems to be forgotten. They lingered and taunted you, made you afraid in your own home. Of him.

You hurled out to the hallway, sprinting straight into the elevator. The adrenaline fueled you ten times more than a drug would. You injected him with something to destabilize his speed, and you don't know how much time that bought you, you just needed him to get out. From what you just saw, heard and discovered. You can't recover from that. You keep on pressing the button, even if you knew it wouldn't increase the speed to get down. Minutes that felt like eternities, you reached the garage level. The burn in your lungs and the sore of your legs was replaced by a percolating relief, as you run for your car's direction, getting near it. But you can't escape this.

Your chance flies with the wind, when a whoosh of wind brushes against you. In a blink of an eye, the evil speedster was right in front of you, and had taken hold of your cheeks tightly.

"I don't wanna hurt you, Y/N. So you have to stop being a brat!" He scolded, gripping your skin so harsh, you began to cry again.

He wrapped his arms around you, more like coddling you like a baby, then sped you away.

He was going too fast to see anything through your mortal eyes, so you closed them. Recovering from your dizzy state, you began to realize he took somewhere underground with large tubes and dim lights. You assumed you didn't stray far away from the lab. Maybe some room yet to be discovered.

Oh, and you were strapped to a chair.

“I know this is exactly how this will go. I tried giving you the easy way, but you’ve never been one to underestimate,” he discussed, tapping the device of sorts in his hands— a helmet that is straight out Professor X’s Cerebro.

You tried to move, wriggle your way out of the straps, which was impossible considering how tight they wrapped around your limbs.

“What is that?” You gulped, your panic skyrocketing as seconds passed.

“This…” He stalked towards you with a sinister smile. You know it can't be good. “Is Plan B.”

You want to trust his words earlier, but you have yet to know the extent of his capabilities. Also, you don't know what this helmet would do to you. It might kill you too.

He immediately put the helmet on your head. "Please, no— please!" You shrieked.

“Oh, Y/N, I’m doing this for us,” he chides. "I love you. And I'll see you."

“I love you.” Those words used to mean so much, now they make your skin, even your own existence prickled with disgust. You felt sick, you felt used far worse than a ragdoll or a toy, and you felt like the stupidest person in the world. To think you wanted to build a life with this person— this monster.

He kissed your forehead tenderly, then moved to your lips. You did your best to pull away, but he only cupped your chin to deepen the kiss.

When he pulled away, he had the biggest, proudest smirk ever.

“Har-”

I heard you on the phone last night

We live and die by pretty lies You know it, oh, we both know it

These silver bullet cigarettes

This burning house, there's nothing left

And just like that, you felt the jolts of electricity coursing from your head down to your toes. Screams and pleas cascaded out of your mouth. You tried to fight against and break free, it's like it increases the voltage the longer you put up a fight. It's stretching and pulling the strings of your mind, you feel like you're about to lose your own head. You felt so helpless. You looked at him, begging him to stop, though he's so convinced of his plan. He just watched you. You knew you were gonna die. You were getting weaker and drained as the time passed. You wondered why it ever led to this, you just wanted a happy family. Why must it always be taken away from you?

Your eyes rolled up, and just before it closed, tears escaped. The last thing you thought of before everything went black was your daughter. You don't know what he's going to do with her. You prayed to God that Barry finds her and saves her.

Well, nothing, nothing, nothing gon' save us now

At the West's residence, five people are doing his undoing. Or at least, attempting to.

It seems they were arguing, as Caitlin opposes some theories. She couldn't still wrap her head around the idea of their mentor being a villain. Barry abruptly sensed the impending danger, looking over his shoulder to listen carefully. Joe noticed Barry no longer listening to them and was all rigid. He was to ask, but he saw the man in yellow speed inside, circling around them. He took out his gun, alerting everybody.

“What the hell?!” Cisco exclaimed.

Caitlin was abruptly pulled out and taken away.

“Barry!” She shrieked and reached out, but Barry wasn't fast enough.

"Caitlin!”

“Shoot!” Eddie cursed, panicking.

They swiveled their heads trying to catch sight of him and attempted to nick him.

He came after the other detective.

“Joe! No!” Barry screamed.

Then it was Cisco.

“Barry, He-”

“Cisco!”

Soon, the other detective.

Once they're all gone, he comes face to face with the Reverse Flash. Barry bursted out of the house and into the city. Chasing each other's tails, they circled around the city, it's citizens witnessed the colors of streaks, the summer breeze burnt their cheeks flushed.

Well, there's broken silence

By thunder crashing in the dark

And this broken record

Spin endless circles in the bar

Barry opted to outrun him, knowing he wouldn't do anything good to his friends if he's dead. Though the Scarlet Speedster pivot, he was caught off-guard as the enemy anticipated it. He was thrown flying to the trash bin in some dark alley.

He grunted, attempting to stand up, as he appeared before him. “What did you do to them?" He demanded.

“Don't worry, Barry. They’ll be fine,” he answered in his Reverse-Flash voice.

“It's you, isn't it?” He seethed, eyes piercing. And he swore he saw him smirking. “What do you want?”

He stopped phasing and took off his mask. Barry was right and never in his life had he wanted to be more wrong. He was manipulated and betrayed by his own mentor.

“My family,” the Doctor replied. “Now, cooperate. She would hate to see you gone.”

He lunged at him, then everything around Barry went dark.

He went to where his little light was. Home. Peering over the crib, he saw she was still deep in sleep amidst the chaos that's going to unfold. She looked so small and fragile, two month old. Joe said she looked like you, even your Dad when you showed him pictures. But you knew that her eyes are like his— Blue like the ocean, but a hint of green you wondered where she got it from, though it's expression never ceased to be mysterious and curious.

“Hey there, princess,” he murmured. “I know what Daddy did wasn't good, but he has to do it to keep family together.” Henrie barely moved when he caressed her soft cheek with the pads of his thumb, instead found comfort and familiarity under his touch. It was unsurprising, he's her father after all. “Besides, it's never fun to be good, right?” He smirked when his daughter cooed, and took it as an answer. Oh, he was never filled with this kind of pride and happiness— all worth the sinister acts.

This world can hurt you

It cuts you deep and leaves a scar

Things fall apart, but nothing breaks like a heart

Mhmm, and nothing breaks like a heart

First missed game night in years for a date night. And Joe apparently invited everyone, and you're to miss it. Sucks, but you gotta admit, a night out ain't so bad. And you know that Joe and the rest of the gang will keep an eye on her your whole date, and their game night.

"So, where y'all staying tonight?" Iris asked from across the living room, cuddling with Eddie at the end of the couch.

You laughed, giving the man standing beside you a side-eye— only because he deserved it. He maintained his stoic expression as always, but you know he's swimming in joy having all the secrets.

"I don't know. This guy is keeping it as a secret,"

"Aww. That's so exciting!" Iris exclaimed.

"It is, when you're not dying of curiosity," you seethed, glancing up to him, and scrunching your nose to prove your point about the fun you're not having.

He didn't react, instead gave you a quick peck, as if that's to amend his secretive nature.

When he pulled away, he whispered to you, "We have to go now,"

You nodded with a frown. You hugged the now 14-month old, chucky and chubby Henrie in your arms. It's hard to say goodbye. The dread, anxiety and guilt that sits on your chest at the mere thought of going out and not bringing dear Henrietta is heightened right now.

A pair of large hands travel down your waist to give it a squeeze. You already know what it means. As if on cue, she reached out to her father and said her first and favorite word, much to your dismay.

“Da-da.” Harrison gladly took her.

“You go be a good girl to Poppop, okay?” You told her. “We'll miss you. We'll be back before you know it.” You kissed her forehead tenderly.

"She'll be fine, Y/N," Barry assured.

Harrison gave your daughter a kiss on the cheek, before handing her to your older brother’s arms.

“No carousing around the city, and no— listen to me, Barry— no ice cream!” You chided Barry with a stern look.

Frankly, he was annoyed, especially because he vowed to be the coolest uncle in the world. But Barry has yet to say it, but it was only two years ago, you were his baby sister that he had always looked after and teased for fun. Now you're a mom, nagging him for what and what nots— having an actual child to look after. You radiate a different energy now, formerly childish and clumsy; something more mature (even more than him) enveloped you, your smile and gestures are gentle. But you're still raining on his parade. His head snapped from her to you with disbelief etched on his face. There it is. That look. You're the party pooper again. You frowned.

“Come on, Y/N. You can't deprive people of ice cream. And it’ll be fun! Uncle Barry and Henrie time!” He insisted, bouncing Henrie and lifted her hand, gesturing as if they were partying and dancing. Your girl happily giggling in return. Seems like agreeing with Uncle Barry.

“Well, it wasn't fun last time. She got a stomach ache and we were up all night.” You continued angrily. “Iris, can you watch him?”

“Yup.” Iris nodded with a grin.

Barry blinked and gasped, offended (fauxly) by the request.

“Watch me? She gave her the Mint Chocolate Chip one to try maximum flavors!” He stated, pointing a finger at Iris. She was stunned, it quickly flickered to fuming at him.

You internally scoff, they'll never get angry at each other for more than 5 minutes. The next minute they'll wind up at the Jitters' rooftop in the late hours of the night, talking about anything regarding being the Flash for an article, they say. You had warned them about how the meetings can't be a good thing, but they assured you that no funny business is going on. Physically, but emotionally, mentally, even if they don't realize it and chalk it up as old Barry and Iris.

Yes, Barry is trying to move on with the rest of the world, coming to terms that Iris West is not the only girl in the world, that he'll find his lightning rod. You love Eddie— he's a good man— but you know that was a bunch of bullcrap, because you lived with them enough to know that they'll never find anyone better than one another. Shame that they're as slow as snails to realize it.

“Ooh, Barry Allen— snitches get stitches!” Eddie shook his head.

“Don't worry, I'll keep an eye on Uncle Fun and Auntie Flavor,” Joe chuckled.

“Thank you, Joe,”

You clasped your hand together, mustering the strength you have left, before you change your mind about leaving. "Okay, guys. We'll all see you later!"

Everyone stood up, and went for a quick hug. Not something that's odd, but it's just that you see each other everyday, and will see each other tomorrow, so it seems so weirdly affectionate. They usually just say bye.

“Have fun on your date night," Caitlin whispered kindly to you, as she held onto the hug. You thanked her, before letting go.

"Yes. I hope you enjoy your date. Bliss of union is something beyond the expression of words. I remember when Clarissa and I—"

"Dude, TMI." Cisco whispered to the professor through his gritted teeth. Unbeknownst to you, they all shot the Professor a look.

“Good luck with her tonight," Harrison told the gang.

Ronnie shrugged, barely hearing the warning. Foolish, optimistic and amateur, you thought.

"Eh, it's a good practice, 'case Cait and I decided to have one of these,"

"In three to five years." Caitlin sidled up to him, a hand placed on his chest, and the silver band on her finger glinted against the light. It took you back to that intimate ceremony almost 5 months ago.

"In three to five years.” He repeated, as if receiving an order from a commander. He then smirked, he ghosted his wife’s ear, voice dropping low, and you do not know if it's intended or not. "Besides, that leaves a whole lot of room for practice.”

You blinked, taken aback. Harrison merely cleared his throat, and Caitlin’s eyes and mouth agape, flushed and scandalized. Ronnie grinned like a sick bastard.

"You better be just talking about this baby.” Cisco murmured, taking a sip of his drink. He turned to Henrie beside him.

"Instead of listening to this man, listen to Uncle Cisco's new project, it doesn't involve smooching all day,” he stated bitterly in a baby voice. You were offended, though you will admit that more than half of the team being a couple does distract people sometimes.

The subjects of the affection rolled their eyes and reacted negatively.

"Oh come on. You know it's because it's all you talk about. The only person in the precinct who can understand what you're saying is Barry," Eddie piped in.

"I think we should head out before we witness a tantrum. Cisco often has it worse than Henrie.” The doctor whispered from behind. You hit his chest with the back of your palm.

"Shut up."

"Oh no, he's right," Joe chimed in.

Cisco heard him, shooting daggers at your old man. He began stomping to the kitchen in retreat, and as good friends do, you all laughed at him.

Despite the amount of hugs you received tonight, there's one person you wouldn't mind having a thousand hugs from. You opened your arms, beckoning to Joe. He obliged, though you were caught off guard. He held onto you for dear life, as if you're off somewhere far and long. Tighter than he did when you left for college. As you both let go, you felt the heaviness of everyone’s on you. There was something in their eyes that made you feel as though you weren't informed. You are becoming concerned and your face begins to etch it.

"What?" You asked, puzzled.

"Nothing." How they were so quick to answer it and the speed of their head swiveling is ridiculously suspicious.

You saw Joe's head craning his head up, training his eyes up even though there's nothing to look at up the ceiling. Then, you caught it. His eyes gleamed, almost.

"Joe, are you crying?" You asked, stunned.

He shook his head vigorously, but an audible sniffle was heard by everyone.

"No. I'm fine. You should go, have fun being childless tonight.”

You were to inquire more, but he began pushing you out of the house.

"O-okay. Bye! We’ll call!” You shouted as the door was slammed shut on your face.

You looked at your partner, who shrugged and was seemingly baffled as you were. You were itching to know what is up, the door is closed and you are going to be late. So you headed off.

As soon the door was shut, everyone stared at Joe. The boys were trying not to burst out in laughter, though the girls were a little sympathetic with the old man.

“Way to be subtle, Joe,” Barry quipped.

“Shut up, Barry," he retorted, as plopped down on his arm chair.

We'll leave each other cold as ice

And high and dry, the desert wind

Is blowin', is blowin'

When it comes to (the numbered) date nights, Harrison always has and always will keep the details to himself. At this point, you just try not to question anything at this point. You just get a smirk from him now. It's an improvement to your relationship, but it's utterly annoying.

You got into this fancy restaurant. As always, with multiple courses of food. You aren't complaining, as it's a nice treat every once in a while, especially having almost no to little time to make a proper dinner or lunch.

Now, he's driving to the hotel; Venazzi, you assumed.

Satisfied, full and honestly, pampered, you beamed as you gazed at him lovingly and lost. Stern and so focused on maneuvering the road, which you oddly adored. You wonder how you got so lucky with someone who was willing to give you everything.

Everyone talks about the one who made their beats fast, or skipped a beat, but it seems like the one who puts your heart at ease and awe is so rarely spoken about. Rare, but he's right here with you.

Your hand crept to his hand on the clutch, and as usual, he let go of it to open up his palm to connect with yours, fingers began to intertwine tightly.

"I love you. Thank you," you whispered to him.

"I love you too." He smiled, taking your hand to his lips and planted it on the skin on the back of your palm.

You exhaled. “I should be the one organizing all of this, because you have been doing so well with therapy. Dr. Kramer said that you’ve been doing quicker than most patients,”

“All because of you,” he murmured.

You tilted your head, raising an eyebrow, as if scolding him for not mentioning it. You know he loves you, but it's not nice to discredit those who had involvement in the progression of how things are today.

“And Cisco. And Barry. And Caitlin," you continued.

“Yes, indeed,” he chuckled with a nod.

You grinned, rolling your eyes. You stayed silent for the rest of the ride, expecting to pull up at the hotel's driveway. Imagine your surprise when you realize you're not heading there. He pulled up at where you were all just hours ago, and everyday for the last two years. Freaking STAR Labs.

The bemusement couldn't be more etched on your face. You looked at him and asked, "What are we doing here?"

"Just trust me," he assured.

You stared at him, even more bewildered. He gazed back, wordlessly stating to just do as he says. Shaking your head, you just went along with it. If you made it this far with him, you'll be fine.

You walked around the old lobby, more like he let you wander; dark, as you all agree not to turn on any lights, as this place is barely even utilized. You feel so small inside of it with the sheer darkness and nothingness of it. It's lifeless, yet each time you enter this building you are whisked away with the countless mornings and evenings briefing memories. The special spot by the bannister that is in the center of the building is where the Doctor always made his speech. First time you ever saw him. You've come so far from that girl who just is a story down watching him, admiring him.

You spun around to face your partner.

You all headed for the elevator, and to add to your growing confusion, you headed for the cortex. You entered the room, as you do every single day for work. There's nothing special, it's dimmer than usual, probably due the fact it's like after hours.

"So, this is where you plan to whisk me away for the rest of the weekend, huh?" You joked with a cheeky grin to lighten up the mood.

"Don't I whisk you everyday?" He bit back to your surprise.

So you continued your little game. Stroking your chin with a pout, seemingly thinking hard.

"Hmm… sometimes your game's been lacking," you stated, holding back a laugh knowing how well that will piss him off.

"Lacking, huh?" He scoffed. He grabbed you by the waist, silencing your squeal with a kiss. He was so into it. So hungry and feverish; joyful, even to the point that the wind was knocked out of you. You reckoned it was just the thrill of having not to hear a baby cry in the background, as he smooches you.

His hands wandered a bit far down and gave your butt a hearty squeeze. He was getting a little excited and sidetracked. You pulled away from the thought of still having no idea why you were back.

"You still haven't told me why we're here," you said, breathless. You saw the way his jaw clenched and his lips pressed together. He's got something up on his sleeve, and he will torture you with waiting.

He exhaled sharply, before stealing a kiss from you. You took a seat on your usual spot, stared at him, brows arose that screamed what could you possibly be here for. He smirked, much to your dismay. One day, you'll be married to this man, and still be clueless about him.

"This is where you came to me. After the accident, you offered to do anything just to watch your brother," he explained.

"You kindly took in that mess," you murmured gratefully. The grin never left his face. A new record, you thought.

"Best decision I ever made." He stated proudly.

"I also confronted you here. Both times,"

Still very vivid to you how that night went. Oh, you made him work for it. First was beating around the bush with your feelings, then the whole secret relationship fiasco. Seems like it all happened yesterday.

"Almost lost you both times, too,"

"You couldn't possibly." He pulled you for yet another kiss with the same intensity as before, as though the act of it is like an addictive drug he cannot resist.

You pulled away, slightly absorbed his odd cheerfulness.

"Where to next?" You joked.

"Just follow me, please," he said, grabbing your hand and dragging you out to the hallway at a speedy pace. You feel teenagers sneaking about in a place they should definitely not to make-out just not to get interrupted.

You ended up in a very familiar, nostalgia-inducing storage room near the particle accelerator. You huffed, exasperatedly with all the walking and having no literal idea what's going on.

"This is where we kiss and make-up," You mocked, copying his voice, grandously opening your arms. You thought he was gonna shoot you glare, but he cracked a chuckle. You were so perplexed, it seems like nothing can bring him down tonight.

"Yes. Where you had the most ridiculous idea to date,"

You rolled your eyes. He still hasn't lived it down. Joe was a bit grumpy for a while, but he got used to it.

"It went well, Harrison. And if we hadn't come out by then, pretty sure we'll be having a pregnancy reveal that'll make you thankful that you were in a wheelchair," you reasoned.

And the pregnancy wasn't his favorite thing as well.

You heard him scoff. "Pretty sure that's exact scenario with Joe then,"

"He was much calmer," you argued with a sigh.

"With the silent treatment?" He snarked back.

You frowned and relented. He didn't like how Joe was during the first months of the pregnancy. You were crying every night, afraid you were never going to fix your relationship with him. It was a lot of stress for the three of you.

You left the storage room, and headed for the next part of this random tour. He didn't speak on your way to the next destination in the lab, his jolly aura had vanished and he succumbed back to himself. You didn't know if he didn't like the discussion earlier or was just being mysterious as ever. And of course, you're more anxious than ever; worried, yes, but the knot you feel in your stomach suggests something far more than dread, beyond pinpointing or perhaps you're just too confused to put the pieces together.

You know where you're heading, but don't actually know what's going on down there.

Once you reached the break room, you thought to see the usual set up, absence of light and life. No, you couldn't be more wrong. The furniture was gone, the room was illuminated warmly by the sheer quantity of candlelights, along with a myriad of petals littered on the floor; it was magical.

Slacked jaw and frozen on the spot, his fingers slipped into yours, tugging gently as he guided to the center of the room, the only part that seemingly lacks the decor. Just like that, the sweet melody played. He put your arms on his shoulder, his hands on hips, swaying perfectly with the rhythm.

There it is again: that freaking indecipherable face, that you're slowly getting to know; usually too overwhelmed inside to ever conjure an expression.

"What?" You asked.

He sighed softly, clearly holding something back. "Remember after night after you told me you can't dance around your feelings anymore. All those things I said?" Your brows drew together, shaking your head. Truth is, a lot happened after that and it's better to let him tell all rather than go through them one-by-one.

"You went on a date," he answered.

Ah. That. Yep. He was a nice guy, don't remember his name, but it went well as far as you remember. "What about it?"

"What about it?" He chuckled wryly, as if that made sense. He exhaled, locking eyes with you with a gleam that you can't recognize. Your heart beating fast, a feeling stirring inside that's making you worried.

"You came back here after that, and I was here too. Exhausted, stressed— all of the things that can't possibly be good, we're feeling that night. Then, you've always been so beautiful in my eyes, but there was something that night when I saw you in that red dress." His voice cracked, and he paused to collect himself.

That's why he made you wear a red dress.

You gasped internally, your mouth was too dry, you feel like you won't be able to speak. Tears brimming your eyes, because he spoke to you in a way that was too powerful, and the events of that night are coming back to you.

"I wanted to hit myself so badly, for making up excuses, for holding back, and all I could think about is how much I screwed up. And how I was screwed," he whispered. "And amongst other things, how foolish I would be if I didn't kiss you."

And he did. He kissed you that night with all the tension, passion and desperation for one another that was forced to be dormant. You gripped his shoulder to get a grip of yourself. He just knows when to say the most perfect things. You are so confused, as many times you've stated it, no one could possibly comprehend it like you do, as it is the only thing you understand. You're emotional over his new love declaration, you're at your day job that's been redecorated, and you don't know what it's for.

"Harrison—" you choked on your words.

For the first time you realized that his breathing is a little uneven. Heartbeat is a little bit speedy. He wasn't being clingy— he's nervous.

He wiped off your tears, cupping your cheeks and holding your hand, as he stared at you so enamored.

“Y/N Allen, I love you far more than I thought I could. You restored something in me— something long gone," He breathed out. "You make me feel alive; I breathe for you, I live for you, my whole world revolves around the warmth of your smile. You are the second of every day I want to cherish for the rest of my life,"

“Harrison, what's going on?” You shakily asked.

"You gave me the greatest gift; my own family," he said. "So if you would be so kind and generous to give me one more thing, it will make me the happiest man in the universe."

Holding your hand still, he began to get down on one knee. Your mouth agape, registering what is finally happening.

“Marry me, Y/N Allen." He took out a small, velvet from his pocket, opening it slowly to reveal a shiny ring that shimmered against the moonlight.

You saw his eyes glint, not with mysteriousness, mischief or curiosity. Of tears. Of joy. You broke down into tears, your hands flew to your mouth. You bent over, taking it all in. It took a while for you to speak because you were sobbing hysterically. You reckoned he was on his knees for too long so you mustered up the only thought you have.

“That's not really asking, but yes," you choked out. “I’ll marry you.”

He laughed, escastically slipping on the ring on your finger. He leapt to his feet, not giving you a chance to admire it on your finger, he swung his arms around your waist, lifting you off the ground and crashed his lips against yours. Your heart was soaring with joy, the thunderous beats of it screamed it. It felt very wet, as you couldn't control the tears; it was messy, but hearty nonetheless. You could stay there forever, but the steadiness of your breath was slipping away.

Panting, you pulled away. His forehead rested against yours, you continuously sobbed, as you both whispered nothing but 'I love you'd to each other, which led to another kiss. He kissed you again ardently, taking you away from this world. You never felt so lost in something intangible, and you can't quite place it, but your heart yearned for it, searched for it, begged for it, and now, you have really found it— you have found the one.

The kiss was intensifying every moment. His hands ever gripped your hips, pressing you closer to his body. His lips with a mind of its own detached from your lips to hover over your ears, finally planting them on the skin of your neck, sucking on the sensitive spot on your neck and you couldn't help but elicit a moan.

The warmth in your belly spreads and grows like rapid fire, and your wandering hands are the fuel to it; from his chest down to his abs, he squeezed your rear, and your hand found his clothed hardness, palming it. The grunt you received from him satisfied you. He fiddled hastily with the zipper of your dress, undoing them. They slipped down to the ground and your bra was thrown inside, along with his blazer that you worked off of him. You shivered, feeling a breeze against your body, your nipples pebbled, and oh, he immediately ravished them so hungrily, kneading the other one, breast milk dripping off it. Your teeth dug on your lower lip at the sensation. You can already feel your wetness growing.

"Leave some for our kid," you joked breathlessly. It's like he didn't get it and proceeded to the other side. He may have said something about it being sweet before.

You busied yourself with undoing the buttons of his shirt until you were able to take it off him. You ran your arms against his taut back and to his abs you so adore. Your breath hitched, as his hand slid down to the waistband of your underwear, and to your shock, he ripped them off. Your gasp was swallowed by his lips knocking the air out of you again. He adored the fact that it's all wet, all because of him. He pushed two fingers inside, building up friction, before swirling your clit expertly in 8 figures. Your screams of pleasure were muffled. Abruptly, he pulled away, turning you around to face the entrance to the balcony, but his fingers never stopped.

"Thank you." He whispered, rasped.

"What do you mean?" Your mind was too fogged to even think.

"For being mine," he replied tenderly.

You heard his belt unbuckle, and of course, the excitement rushed to you. He pressed against his hardness against wetness, rubbing it up and down, before slipping into your warm velvety sheath, moans escaping your mouths. Slow, his pace at first; he took his time to be gentle, even kissing your shoulder. It was torturous, but so, so good.

"Babe," you begged, biting your lips.

"I know," he assured.

Then, his hips bucked and slammed into you like a crazed man. It hits your cervix, stimulating your bundles of nerves at the same speed. Your hand flew to his shoulder, and held on it for dear life— and you screamed. You screamed really loud due to all the sensation you're feeling. Your head rolled back on his shoulder, you gripped on his hair, his head buried in the crook of your neck. His grunt was loud enough for you to hear and it drove you wild; the drug of being filled and pleasured was taking over your mind rather quickly. Overwhelmed, you orgasmed with a shattering scream, arching your back.

He removed himself, turning you around to face him now. Huffing, you smiled at him, which he returned. The glee on the man was palpable, he didn't have to say anything.

He pressed you towards him, you wrapped your arms around his neck. Your lips met again, he caressed the line of your spine down to your butt. He hoisted you up to cling on his torso.

He walked to the adjacent wall leaning you against it, making you realize how truly hot your body was because of how cold it felt behind your back. You felt the tip of girth entering your folds, happy about being filled again. He didn't make the effort to take his time, thrusting in and out with an incredible force, your eyes rolled back at the sensation and mewled at the brief window between him reaching that spongy part. His biceps were clenched, a hand firm on your hips, as they supported you and guided as you bounced on him. The other cradled your neck. Your legs locked around his waist.

Remember what you said to me?

We were drunk in love in Tennessee

And I hold it, we both know it

You ran the pads of your thumb against his cheek. You were in awe of the sight of him, how the candlelight illuminated his features. He just looked so perfect. So focused on making you feel good, sweaty, his glasses had gone foggy, and reeks of sex, sure— he was utterly perfect and so right. You lay your sweaty foreheads together, panting, grunting and moaning; the tender moment of vulnerability, and the reality of it all sinking.

This isn't a dream— you can't wake up from it and feel a pang of longing.

Both of your highs were coming, your fingers dug on his taut shoulder, in tears once again, as he thrusted inhumanly fast into your cunt. Your moaning gradually gets louder, along with his guttural groan as the ecstasy burns in your lower belly and veins, your velvety walls clamped down on him, quivering as the catharsis overwhelmed you. The silks of white ribbon surrounded them.

Breathing so heavily, your limbs limp, and strength has yet to come to you. You couldn't let go of him though. You just wanna hang on to this moment. Your hand traveled down his wet chest, your eyes shifting on the glimmering band on finger. You still can't believe it.

"I'm going to marry you," you sobbed.

"You will," he rasped. "I love you,"

"I love you too. I love you so much,"

He wiped down your tears, and kissed you in a way that's comforting and warming.

You pulled away, grinning ear-to-ear. You don't even know what to say, seems like words will never sum up how it all is.

“That's why he was crying,” you blurted out.

“Hmm?”

You glanced up to him. “Joe. He was crying. He knew, didn't he?”

“I reckon Joe would appreciate it if I let him know." He tucked a strand of hair behind your ear.

“How did you get him to agree?” You inquired.

If people think that after having a baby, Joe would become any less protective or critical of the Doctor, they couldn't be more wrong.

He exhaled sharply, as shook his head.

“He didn't at first, but I can be persuasive when I have to,” he answered.

“Thought that was me?” You chortled.

“Well, you certainly have your influences, Mrs. Wells,”

“Soon-to-be Mrs. Wells. You have to put a second ring on it, Mr. Wells,” you teased, motioning your left hand.

“Challenge accepted." He planted a quick kiss on your lips. He makes the word 'lucky' such an understatement. You thank God for your persistence, or else you would've missed the start of your life.

"I can't wait to spend forever with you," you whispered to him, intertwining your hand with his.

"May it never be enough time to be with you,"

He kissed your forehead tenderly. And you know, deep in your heart. The chaos, they will come and they will stay, but you have found the one to weather the storm with. You are never going to let him go.

This is really it. The beginning of forever.

Nothing, nothing, nothing gon' save us now

***

That's it, guys! Thank you so much for reading! I actually had to remove a huge chunk of this story because I reached the maximum blocks 😭 breaks my heart, but the show must go on! If you can, please like and reblog, even comment if you have some insights! Love you all, and it's so nice to be back! See y'all next time xxx

#harrison wells #harry wells #eowells #eobard thawne #tom cavanagh #harrison wells x reader #harry wells x reader #eowells x reader #eobard thawne x reader #tom cavanagh x reader #eowells x allen!reader #harrison wells x allen!reader #the flash #harrison wells fanfiction #harry wells fanfiction #eowells fanfiction #eobard thawne fanfiction #tom cavanagh fanfiction #the flash fanfiction #harrison wells imagine #harry wells imagine #eowells imagine #eobard thawne imagine #tom cavanagh imagine #the flash imagine #barry allen x reader #cisco ramon x reader #Caitlin snow x reader #iris west x reader #joe west x reader

[theseerasures]

What are askboxes for if not for shamelessly enabling your friends so please do tell us about Winter's technician vs Weiss's performer

what’s so interesting about Winter and Weiss specifically wrt this trope is that it’s usually the performer who is the Prodigy while the technician is, idk, some hapless second banana who has to work twice as hard just to keep up and has to learn to Let Go and Have Fun or whatever the fuck

it's not that Winter DOESN'T need to learn those things, but the subtext is fairly overt in painting her as the prodigy out of the two of them. she's the oldest, the paragon, the chosen heiress (though in retrospect as the Heir and also Not the Boy she was probably the Unfavorite for both Willow and Jacques). her little tutoring session with Weiss in season 3 reads very much as "why isn't this coming naturally to you it did for me," and every scene she's in during that season paints her as "Weiss, but the Finished Version, who can make it look easy."

Weiss certainly sees (or...saw) her that way. even beyond incredibly obvious hints (mirror help me who am i--Winter!), it's amazing to return to episodes prior to Winter's introduction after we meet her, because only then does it become clear that her fingerprints are all over Weiss. remember i'm not perfect! not yet? or her first combat encounter: head up, shoulders back, right foot forward--not that forward--early Weiss placed so much importance on having the Exact Right Technique, Executing an Attack at the Right Moment, not a hair out of place, and now that we've gotten a fuller sense of Winter's fighting style...

we can see exactly where she got it from. (i made a gif y'all!)

this entire sequence lasts less than four seconds. Ironwood halts her Summon in its tracks, forcing both Winter and Oscar off; Winter pauses her momentum in midair by...idk, the power of anime, fires three icicles from a Glyph, simultaneously pushing off it so she lands before Oscar, even though Oscar DIDN'T stop for a counterattack, and then--without even looking--sends another Glyph to catch Oscar and propel him forward.

some of this bullshit you can definitely just attribute to Rule of Cool, but the point is that this is Winter at Her Best, the Winter that Weiss wanted to be: not a single second or gesture wasted, not a hair out of place. i've already waxed pretentious on why it's so significant that we only see her like this now where in every prior fight she's been ruffled and defensive, but it's relevant here too; Weiss wanted to believe that the Winter we see here is Pure Uncut Winter Schnee, but WE know that's not true.

this has nothing to do with talent. Winter definitely has that in spades, and who knows? maybe she IS more naturally gifted than Weiss, but the point is that she had to discipline it. Winter at her best is Winter honed to a sharp point (the point of a bullet, or the tip of a sword); streamlined and optimized and stripped of all excess, all maddening sloppy touches. she is above all controlled, but her control, as far as we can tell, extends (just like in out of combat situations) to one thing at a time. she is either attacking herself or helping others attack, and she does not give ground. every second is used to press the offense.

so it makes sense why she's dismissive of Weiss and her at least three strikes missed, but it also makes sense why Weiss a) had so much difficulty doing what Winter does and b) has since given up on it to pursue her own style. Weiss was never intended to be anything more than the spare, meant to generate press and money through her artsy performer gig. this was deeply damaging to her self-image, especially when she compared herself to Winter, but it also gave Weiss more room to be the unruly creative, and that's the part she ultimately chooses to nurture.

Weiss Schnee does not move laterally on the battlefield. she spins and pirouettes around in a FUCKING DRESS, she stabs and slashes her sword with relish (though one suspects Winter taught her that part, along with the yelling), and despite months of practice now her Summoning (in contrast to her sister, who once Summoned a Manticore while plummeting to her death) still takes time and a lot of Intense Posing. but she is nonetheless a force to be reckoned with, because she's compensated for those flourishes, and then some. Winter controls the players, with herself as the principle; Weiss controls the entire stage. she creates environmental hazards. she obfuscates. she buffs her friends. she does a twirl before nuking Marrow with four fireballs at once, because she trusts her own ability--and that of her team--to keep the enemy occupied for the duration of the performance.

and at this point performing is a choice. if Weiss had wanted to keep emulating Winter, she could have done it, but at some point she decided not to. at some point she decided to turn what she'd thought was a weakness into a strength. at some point she decided to take the ways her family wounded her, the role they forced her into, and make it her own, and make it willfully, joyfully, into art.

Winter...hasn't allowed herself that luxury. for Winter, her Semblance--and the family, the name, that are inextricable from it--it cannot be anything more than a tool. to think of it as anything else would mean letting it control her, hurt her, but it is too valuable to discard entirely. the only thing she can do is put it to good use.

it's how she thinks about every part of her, in the end.

#alexkablob #weiss schnee #winter schnee #rwby #helen writes meta #winter is...at this point she's staked her entire identity on Distancing Herself from the schnee name #which means that it is IMPOSSIBLE to untie her from the schnee name