#also i am so sorry about my tag pics it is just to get more people interested and It almost takes longer than writing the fic ITSELF to fin

[running-with-kn1ves]

PUNISHMENT: A Reward

A/N: Decided to name our ‘PUNISHMENT’ fic boy Malachi, lemme know if this is a win or a fat L my scrumptious pogchamps. ALSO happy valentines day! (Posting this early let me be)

CW: Toxic relationship, possessive/obsessive behavior, suggestive themes, mentioning future seggsual acts/fantasies

Synopsis: Out on a group date for Valentine's Day with your possessive, jealousy-ridden boyfriend is never a good idea, especially when he finds the special surprise you’re wearing for him.

“Hrmm… seems like they have a lot of Valentine's themed stuff on the menu.” 

“Well it IS the season! No other reason for it being so packed in here...” One of your friends across the table perked up, slightly annoyed at the stuffy atmosphere.

She was right, every table was filled, every booth full of chattering couples or first blind dates, even double or thruple dates just like the one you were on. 

You were lucky your friend's boyfriend had managed to snag this place a week in advance, else you might be thigh to thigh with everyone else in a tinier booth. Ha, as if YOUR boyfriend would allow that; you'd probably be on the edge of the shared booth seat, nearly falling off just to save you from being ‘too close’ to anyone else, even your own friends. 

“Annoying… I don't get why going out on Valentine's Day is so important, what happened to dates in the privacy of your own home.” Said the devil you were thinking of, that comment nudging to how he was far more in favor of spending a “romantic” evening home alone with you instead of being here with your two friends and their spouses. 

“Awe, is puppy dog Malachi upset he has to share? We planned this weeks in advance, so suck it up, we have a right to see OUR friend tonight.” That same friend hissed. 

Your other friend nodded. He would’ve added on, if it weren’t for the death stare your boyfriend was currently drilling into everyone else across the table. You hadn’t been out in a group setting like this in… who knows how long.

“Oh, really? Don’t fucking--”

“C’mon you guys,” You grabbed onto Malachi’s thigh, a tight squeeze making him stop in his angry tracks to look down.”I’m here right now, shouldn’t we be catching up, not fighting? I missed you, missed this.” 

Your sincerity seemed to ease them up, a flash of contrition on your female friend’s face. She hated your boyfriend, clearly, wearing a scowl when she turned back to Mr. moody himself. He rested his face on his palm, looking at the other couples every now and again, always keeping a short glance at you out of the corner of his eye to make sure you weren’t having too much fun. 

One of the spouses --you had forgotten the name of by now after the evening’s short introductions-- had begun talking, complaining about coworkers or customers, one or the other. 

Wow, has it been so long that your friends have completely different lives now, new people that they spend their time with that you weren’t even told about? Well, its not like you’ve exactly been open to receiving that kind of news, or able to be, with so little time to make phonecalls lately, your phone always seeming to disappear, phone numbers no longer existing in your contacts… it was truly a miracle you managed to have this outing, and Malachi thought so too. 

“I swear if she prods at me again,” Your jealous guard dog of a boyfriend started, hand clenching the red, heart-embroidered table cloth.

“Take it easy, okay? I know you don’t want to be here but-- just do it a little longer, for me. Thats what we agreed, right?”

You took his hand in yours, bringing up his clenched fist to your lips. You thanked the skies that physical affection always seemed to drown out his fiery temper. You wondered how much longer that’d last. 

“Fine. But I can’t stand looking at them anymore, come ‘ere.” Malachi patted his thigh, hands moving to your hips to help bring you to your new seat. 

“Seriously? We’re in a.. A nice restaurant, with my friends--”

He gave you a knowing look, one that said ‘if you don’t listen, i’ll drag your ass back to the car without the pleasure of friendly goodbyes.’ 

You didn’t know if you could handle the embarrassing shit he put you through anymore. It tested the strength of your will and the integrity of your soul at this point. 

You did as he demanded, slowly making your way to sit on the edge of his lap. Most of those around you didn’t seem to notice, an occasional glance looking to see what you were doing, but ultimately going back to the lively story of one of the nameless significant others. You tried to hover above him, afraid to fully commit to sitting down on top of him, but a small ‘what are you doing’ and forced downward push of your hips made your butt make soft contact with his lap. 

“That’s right… that’s better.” He cleared his throat, putting one arm around your waist and the other on your knee. You directly blocked his view, your boyfriend not moving to see the rest of the group, instead leaning against you like a perfectly shaped body pillow. 

“Can’t you atleast act normal? Don’t you have any shame around other people,” You whispered, knowing that one of your friends was reading the uncomfortable expression on your face and was in turn, giving a similar expression of discomfort. 

“Hey, you know how bad I can be, this isn’t even the worst of it. You want me to really embarrass you?” 

A waiter  broke the quiet spat you were having with him, asking if you’d like another drink. He didn’t acknowledge the man behind you, either out of not seeing him or to purposefully avoid the dark eyes digging into his soul behind your shoulder. 

You croaked out a polite “yes please,” looking for your friend’s fellow responses. They all answered in kind, the waiter scurrying away to another busy set of tables. 

Malachi scoffed, coiling around you tighter. 

“D’you see that? I knew we shouldn’t have come out here, in front of prying eyes… bet he’s hit on every other pretty thing he’s seen walk in here, so don’t get any ideas.” 

 You almost turned around to gawk at your boyfriend, such an insensitive and insecure string of words wounding you. 

“I would never..” 

You almost let him ruin the rest of your evening, the dreadful pit of wanting to go home entering your tired mind. But you promised yourself you’d try to make an effort in repairing your friendships, attempting to memorialize your friend’s smiles and laughs, trying to come up with the names of their spouses you had just heard a half hour ago. If you wouldn’t see them again for a while, atleast you could have this. 

And with the two-second memory your boyfriend often displayed,(except for when it came to your “betrayals”) he was enamored with something new. 

“Oh, what do we have here…” Malachi tip-toed down the elastic waistband of your pants, looking at the lacey red lingerie underneath. It wasn’t hard to spot, not when it was a drastic change from your usual tame undergarments. Well, tame for him, he had seen them all at this point. 

You wouldn’t have noticed his prodding peculiarity if it weren’t for that worrying heightened pitch in his voice, one that always started trouble. Fingers nipping your tummy and around your wrist weren’t unusual, you had become accustomed to it from how he pawed at you at home, never seeming satisfied, but this, wasn’t the usual lack of personal space.

“Hey! You weren’t supposed to see that.” You slapped his hand away, having which already gotten a full touch of the goods you were hiding. 

“What is that supposed to mean--” Malachi started, and you knew he was about to expect the worst. You shut him up as fast as you could. 

“It’s supposed to be for tonight, idiot!” You whispered with a harsh tone, starting to get fed up with his childish reactions, which always seemed to jump to conclusions. “...Did you forget that it’s Valentine’s day or what?”

You barely let the words escape from between your teeth, not wanting to admit the silent internet escapade you went on to find something that wouldn’t tear your ass in half or be so tight you’d be left with more marks from it than him. But even so, after the sneaking around in trying to catch the package before he could and clearing out your emails as soon as possible, he still managed to see it before you had planned. 

Now, you wondered if it was worth it, with the lace itching your chest and the other giving you a wedgie. 

“awe.. no way, for me? All for me?” Malachi was promptly sweet on you, much different than the heel-biting mood he was in a short few minutes ago. 

You leaned back to get close to his ear, shifting your eyes anxiously. You really didn’t want your friends to know about the violently ravenous side of your boyfriend that wouldn’t stop him from making a scene about it here and now, which you anxiously tried to prepare for in case of the worst. “It’s for when we get back home…so lets just enjoy our time here, just sit still with me for a little longer.” You tried your usual ‘gentle parenting’ method, holding the heavy knuckles around your waist, to soothe him into letting you spend just a little bit longer with your friends.

Malachi kicked his feet, exasperating at this newfound interest and the ways he could torture you with it, could make you beg him for its secrecy. Oh how he could envision having you at his mercy, so cute and sexy but ultimately deserving punishment for going behind his back about something so temptatious, something another man could see and take if he weren’t there.  

“But now, baby I don’t know if I can wait.” He grinned, raking his teeth over his bottom lip so much it looked like it hurt. You felt him shift underneath you, leaning up to grind against your backside. “Man, you really should’ve hid it better, ‘cause now its all I can think about..”

You rolled your eyes, feeling his heavy exhale against your cheek. Your friends were too immersed in their own conversations with their loved ones to notice anything else, legs strewn over one another and fingers interlocked as they felt the cheap haze of their Sweetheart Cocktail’s and Rosé’s of Love. You would’ve much preferred to be tipsy along with them by now, but the truth is you were too nervous with the possessive man beside you to truly let loose anywhere other than alone. On top of that, the scolding you’d get from him for being so relaxed was not worth the extra headache. 

And yet, the wanton expression he held for you, the hands that fiddled to get deep and play with his surprise, made you feel so wanted. More wanted than your friends had  made you feel this evening. They just looked at you with concerned frowns and confused cocks of their heads as they questioned to why you were still with this crazed maniac. 

“What I would do to bend you over in front of these idiots, make you do more than say my name while wearing these adorable lacey little--” 

“Don’t tell me you’re already thinking of heading out.” Your female friend piped up, looking at the credit card Malachi put on top of the split receipt that has been sitting lonesome for a good while. 

He almost broke, annoyed at the sudden interruption. 

“Afraid so,” Your anticipating boyfriend gleamed, not even her sour attitude dampening the rising excitement in his perverted mind and tightening pants. “We have some other plans to attend to.”

“What could be more important than friends?” She asked, looking at you to advocate against your controlling spouse. 

You felt a greedy palm reach up your shirt, falling back down to paw for the thin garment below your waistline. 

“If we don’t go now.. I don’t know how much longer I can wait. Can’t promise that I won’t  rip these fucking shorts off you here to see what all is underneath.” He whispered against you through gritted teeth, barely able to stop from kissing you raw. 

“We’ll stay… just until the waiter comes back for his tip.” You choked out, not letting on about the roll of Malachi’s hips that pressed you up against the table. 

#its ok if you want to morder me for that Authors note #also i am so sorry about my tag pics it is just to get more people interested and It almost takes longer than writing the fic ITSELF to fin #anyway...toxic boyf supremacy ig #hurts so good #writing #x reader #yandere #reader insert #self insert #yandere x reader #male yandere #yandere male #yandere aesthetic #yandere imagines #yandere boyfriend #yandere oc x reader #yandere scenarios #yandere smut #yandere writing #yandere x y/n #yandere x you #yanderecore #yandere boy #toxic bf #valentines day #valentines day fic #yandere valentines day

[fivefeetfangirl]

'Babe are you okay you haven't done your 91w posting today'

HSJDHSJDH NOO 😭😭😭😭😭

my phone shut down and wont work so i spent the whole day in the car NOT reading 91w like i wanted to. im not kidding i spent almost 10 hours in a car WITHOUT 91W!!! my hands are shaking i need to read

#that phone has been through too much tbh like that phone is so tired and sad that *i* had to be the owner of her #anyways i had my laptop (which is what i am on now) but it didnt have more battery after i finished the benji rosen part and now its 21.18 #and ive tried to fix that goddamn phone for so long ugh its annoing me so much like BITCH JUST WORK!!?!?!? #mostly sad about stuff getting lost and i have no way of getting it back like pics and other stuff but yeah idk i feel very materialistic #when i think like that maybe the memories that i remember should be enough you know?? #sorry for the rant in the tags val ahaha (also it was a funny joke ahahaha (ref your next ask) i love that so many are enjoying my posts <3 #91w #so sorry to people who follow that tag cause im CLOGGING it ahahaha

[ttpdsargeant]

invisible string

oscar piastri x reader, ex!lando norris x reader

part 1 part 3

in which she moves on with his teammate, but why should she care about his feelings? he never cared about hers. besides, oscar is a much better boyfriend.

this is for the oscar girlies and is also like 6 months after say don’t go!! (we’ll pretend 1989 tv was out 6 months ago for the sake of timelines😭😭)

liked by oscarpiastri, maxfewtrell and 935,746 others

yourusername, 🤍🤍

view all comments

user1, WHOOO IS THATTTTT

⤷ user2, i might be insane but like… OSCAR????

logansargeant, i expected a better caption from you considering how much taylor swift you listen to

⤷ yourusername, i couldn’t think of a song to use oops

user3, what if it’s logan????

⤷ user4, not captain america stealing my gf

user5, that should be me holding your hand💔💔

lilymhe, i had to sit and watch you guys be so unbearably cute and i don’t get pic creds for the first one??? criminal!!!

⤷ yourusername, SORRY SORRY IM SORRY thank you taking it lils ily🫶🫶🫶🫶

user6, kinda hope it’s oscar or max just because lando deserves it

⤷ user7, max has a gf but oscar… i need

liked by moref1, norrisupdates and 29,737 others

f1wags, y/n y/l/n has arrived at the qatar gp with kika gomes, but for oscar piastri rather than the usual lando norris👀

view all comments

user1, fav homie hopper😋😋

⤷ user2, i mean it’s not like it’s unprovoked

user3, don’t let your boyfriend stop you from finding the love of your life🤞🤞

user4, i wonder how lando feels about this😭😭

⤷ user5, doesn’t he have a new gf?? he arrived at the paddock with another girl today so he can’t really be mad

⤷ user6, NOOO IMAGINE HOW AWKWARD THAT IS

user7, usually i hate wag accounts BUT i am kinda thankful for this i needed to know who the guy y/n’s soft launching is

user8, I KNEW IT WAS OSCAR OR LOGAN IM SO HAPPY

⤷ user9, if it was logan we could have more lily and y/n cause alex and logan are teammates💔💔💔

⤷ user10, i don’t think they have to have a bf from the same team to be friends babe

liked by oscarpiastri, logansargeant and 953,746 others

yourusername, when he’s a sprint winner >>>> (pic creds: lilymhe)

view all comments

user1, SCREAMING CRYING THROWING UP PUNCH ME IN THE FACE

user2, prettiest couple i love pretty people

oscarpiastri, ❤️❤️

⤷ yourusername, 🤍🤍

user3, i would not have wanted to be in the room when lando found out😭😭

user4, she’s just like me i would also date my ex’s friend if he did me wrong🤭🤭

⤷ user5, i’ve honestly shipped her and oscar since before her and lando broke up is that weird

⤷ user6, i don’t blame u i kinda feel like they suit each other more yk

lilymhe, CUTEST I LOVE U LOML

⤷ yourusername, I LOVE U GF

⤷ oscarpiastri, how did alex get used to this

⤷ alex_albon, i didn’t it’s just something we have to deal with unfortunately😕😕

user7, does this mean more alex and oscar🤭🤭

⤷ user8, IMAGINE DOUBLE DATES WITH THEM LILY AND ALEX

sorry for making lando a sucky person but oscar is my one love so😋😋also i had to repost this cause i forgot to add tags and it wouldn’t show up under the tags after i edited it and added them😭😭

#f1 smau #f1 x reader #formula 1 #formula 1 smau #formula 1 x reader #lando norris #lando norris smau #lando norris x reader #f1 #f1 imagine #formula 1 imagine #oscar piastri smau #oscar piastri x reader #oscar piastri

[marlenesluv]

Sly Fox, Dumb Bunny. (OP)

summary: being the mclaren admin, you’re quite close with the papaya boys, one more than the other…

note: never had a redhead/strawberry blonde fc, but i love red hair, so this is for all my redhead/strawberry blonde babes 😗 also this seems short :( i’m sorry, ill try to post again in a few!

based on this idea i had a while back -> post link

fc: bella anderson (bellaanderrson on insta)

pairing: oscar piastri x mclaren admin!fem reader

type: smau

warnings: very slight suggestive comment, not bad tho

masterlist here -> masterlist link

^ check my list for all posts! ^

liked by: oscarpiastri, landonorris, and 89,193 others

y/n.user: media day vibes + a photo kika insisted i include 😐

view comments…

francisca.cgomes: you look so pretty❤️🤗

↳ y/n.user: you looking in a mirror? bc yes you are

f1updates: favorite posts from the best admin in f1 🙏

oscarpiastri: look at me on that scooter

↳ y/n.user: scootah 🦘🇦🇺

↳ oscarpiastri: if you and lando could stop making fun of me now

↳ landonorris: you know we never will mate

papayaedits81: brooo, i love this trio sm :’)

user3: she’s too pretty to be stuck with these men ugh

↳ user6: you mean the hottest men on earth??

↳ user3: they aren’t that hot

↳ user6: *GASP* GET. OUT.😖

mclaren: slay queen

↳ danielricciardo: y/n we know it’s you

↳ mclaren: no…..

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

liked by: landonorris, oscarpiastri, and 372,924 others

mclaren: 🧡💙double podium weekend💙🧡

view comments…

user5: somehow, y/n eats every time with her photos and posts

y/n.user: 🧡🧡🧡🧡

f1edits: y/n commenting on posts she makes is too good

4ln81op: PODIUMMMMMMM LFGGG

user9: WOOOOOHOOOOOOOO

oscarpiastri: cool photos!😎

↳ mclaren: thank you, mr. piastri 🫡

f2postsss: boom, double podium

opfanpage3: oscar looks so good in theseee

papayaboys: love these pics sm!! y/n, once again, you slayed this up

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

your instagram story:

seen by: oscarpiastri, lilymhe, and 82,193 others

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

liked by: oscarpiastri, logansargeant, and 92,203 others

y/n.user: preoccupied🌹

view comments…

f1updatepg: WOAH????

user7: hold up now, pump the breaks. WHO is that man???

paddockposts: y/nnnnn spill who this is????

landonorris: i know something everyone else doesn’ttttttt

↳ y/n.user: lando😳 zip it

↳ carlossainz55: he told me already….

↳ charles_leclerc: lol………..

↳ y/n.user: STOPPPPP

op81: oscar linking but not commenting?? fishy

francisca.cgomes: mwahahahaha i am matchmaker

y/nfanpage7: anyone else thinking it might be a driver??

↳ f1edit0: yea but who? i don’t wanna assume lando/oscar but she is closest to them, yknow?

↳ user4: i was thinking maybe logan idk

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

texts with oscar:

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

liked by: logansargeant, y/n.user, and 368,130 others

tagged: y/n.user

oscarpiastri: i would say she’s judy hoops because zootopia is one of her favorite movies, but she’s more nick wilde 🧡

view comments…

y/n.user: does that make you judy hoops?

↳ oscarpiastri: i’ll be judy if you’re nick, babe

↳ y/n.user: so i’m sly and you’re dumb?

↳ oscarpiastri: sure, but only you can call me dumb bunny🤷‍♂️

↳ pierregasly: y’know hes down bad when he’s into this shit

↳ francisca.cgomes: you’re talking? really

↳ y/n.user: LMAO

f1wags: HOLD UP. WAIT A MINUTE😳😳😳 I LOVE THIS

user5: this is calling me lonely in every language

formulawags7: WOAH keep it in your pants there oscar, talking bout “only you can call me dumb bunny” OK

op81edits: oscar having a gf just makes him more bold and i’m loving it

papayaedit9: they actually are so cute together stopppp

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

oscar on a podcast, clip of him talking about you:

(interviews name: matt)

matt: “well, mate. i know we are running low on time now, but we are going to end it off with some fan questions.”

oscar: “awesome.”

matt: “alright, i’m not going to lie, a lot of people are very curious on how you and y/n started dating. who initiated it? how long?”

oscar: “um…yeah. kind of a long story, i’ll make it shot though.” *laughs* “when i came to mclaren last year, i actually had a crush on her and lando found out fairly quick. he started telling me her favorite foods, shows, hobbies, stuff like that. like, for example, one of her favorite shows is pretty little liars, so i binged that whole show just to try to talk to her about it.” *laughs and takes a sip of his water*

matt: “wow, man. thats a lot of seasons. did you at least enjoy it?” *laughs*

oscar: “honestly? yeah…it was quite entertaining. and i got a few conversations in with her about it.”

matt: “that’s really nice, i don’t think i’d have the attention span. now, how long have you guys been together?”

oscar: “well, i announced it last friday, and it’s thursday…probably around two months, i’d say.”

matt: “why did you guys decide to wait a bit?”

oscar: “we were a little worried about what my pr manager would say and we didn’t want either of us to get in trouble. but y/n was mainly worried about the fans. she didn’t want to upset them, but, i don’t really care. i mean, if a fan can’t understand and respect your relationship….”

matt: “then they really aren’t fans, are they? well, you two are absolutely adorable. tell y/n i say ‘hi’ and i send her good wishes for this upcoming year. you guys are the cutest, and i’m sure fans will agree.”

oscar: “thank you, mate.”

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

your instagram story:

seen by: oscarpiastri, pierregasly, and 93,199 others

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

(reposts, comments, and likes are appreciated!^-^)

#oscar piastri smau #oscar piastri fic #oscar piastri x y/n #oscar piastri fanfic #oscar piastri x you #oscar piastri f1 #oscar piastri #op81 #op81 smau #op81 fluff #op81 imagine #op81 x reader #op81 fic #op81 x you #oscar piastri fluff #f1 #f1 smau #f1 fluff #f1 imagine #f1 fic #f1 fanfic #f1 fandom

[yeollie-plz]

The Other Woman

Synopsis: After breaking up with her shit boyfriend, Y/N seeks refuge in a new sport and a new man.

Genre: smau

Faceclaim: Allissa Shin @allissashin on ig

All other pics from Pinterest or driver’s personal igs

yourusername

Liked by charles_leclerc and 47,479 others

yourusername lately ive been dressing for revenge

user 🔥🔥🔥

y/nswife what did he do….this time

pleasantlyy/n I want to be in the same room as you just so I can breathe the same air

f1fan did no one else see the Charles like?

- user I was curious too

- iheartf1 mans is thirsting on main

- landox2 you don’t think?

yourbsf ladies always rise above

- yourusername ladies know what people want

- hearteyesy/n we love our swifties

yourusername posted a story

Liked by 787

y/nswife since when did she like f1???

dramapage

Liked by 1,340 people

dramapage Looks like model Y/N and producer boyfriend are broken up once again. What is your opinion on their on-and-off relationship? Let us know!

y/nfan my thoughts are you should leave her alone :))

y/nswife I just wish she would break up with him already she deserves better

f1girlie I bet Charles is just waiting for her to be single

- user he’s drafting his dm as we speak

hater she’s always the other woman

wishingiwasher I just want her to be happy again

yourusername posted a story

Liked by 1,267

y/nismine unbothered queen

user whelp there’s our confirmation

f1forever charles about to shoot his shot

yourbsf I’m so sorry babes!

- yourbsf but also get his ass!!!

yourusername

Liked by yourbsf and 43,917 others

yourusername dont give men second chances

Tagged yourbsf

y/nstan girl you have him like 50 chances…

- user you called her out 🫢

y/nswife finally we can be together!

charles_leclerc what about a first chance?

Liked by yourusername and others

- user Charles?

- user does he know this is his main account

- yourusername maybeee…

- user Y/N NO! HE GOES IN CIRCLES FOR A LIVING

- user uh oh this is not going to end well

Zendaya Gorgeous!

yourbsf you only need the girls!

Liked by yourusername

yourusername

Liked by charles_leclerc and 79,377 others

yourusername race weekend 🏎️ 🤫

user oh so she’s rooting for Ferrari then

user don’t tell me Charles is behind this

y/nswife you better not leave me again! I thought we had something

- user for a man that goes vroom vroom too

charles_leclerc can’t wait to see you, you’ll be my good luck charm

Liked by yourusername and others

- user oh ok he’s whipped whipped then

- user damn

- user Charles has rizz?

charles_leclerc

Liked by yourusername and 997,416 others

charles_leclerc Podium this weekend 👊 We were lucky 🍀

user ok we all know he is talking about Y/N right

- f1girls yep

- carlosstan yes

- charlesitaly 100%

- landoismylover no question

yourusername 🤩 great race Charlie!

- y/nslove the nickname??????

yourusername

Liked by zendaya and 229,347 others

yourusername show me off

Tagged charles_leclerc

y/nslove rue when was this?

user the way my jaw dropped

charlesloveclerc 🫡 weve lost him to the simp side

yourbsf I love when my baby is happy

- yourusername love you!!

- charles_leclerc am I the other woman?

- yourbsf yes

- yourusername yes

bewitchedy/n I’m not crying you’re crying

A/N: ok ok!! My first attempt at a social media au!!!! I personally love these and so I wanted to mix my page up and write one of my own! I also recently got into f1 and thought I’d take a stab into that universe as well! New things all around! Give me suggestions for more 👀❤️

#charles leclerc #charles leclerc fanfic #Charles leclerc smau #Charles leclerc fluff #Charles leclerc social media #Charles leclerc instagram au #fanfiction #fanfic #smau #f1 #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #f1 fanfic #f1 fic #f1 smau #social media au #instagram au #cl16 #cl16 x reader #cl16 imagine #cl16 x you #cl16 one shot #cl16 x y/n #cl16 fluff #cl16 smau

[gabigabigabby]

least you've got points | l. norris

lando norris x sainz!reader

part one / two / three

the landosainz saga

a/n: p17 to p5 😭😭😭 that's the a/n. also kika is so mother in this, get ready to watch her boss lando and pierre

synopsis: lando gains 12 positions in the mexico grand prix. aka ln4 masterclass

face claim: sophia weber

ynsainzzz

liked by landonorris, carlossainz55 and 937,664 others

ynsainzzz ig grid full of lando is kinda too fangirl of me so my fit today !!!! BUT LANDO P17 TO P5 HOW COULD I NOT BE PROUD OF MY POOKIE TODAY 🧡🧡🧡

tagged: landonorris

view all 92,733 comments

landonorris I love you princess 😆😆🧡

ynsainzzz landonorris i luh youuuu

francisca.cgomes LAAAANDOOOOOOO

ynsainzzz francisca.cgomes 😆😆😆

landonorris francisca.cgomes KI KI KI AYEEE

francisca.cgomes could swear i thought u said rookie 😭😭

ynsainzzz francisca.cgomes that's my oscarpiastri 😂

oscarpiastri ynsainzzz proud to be your rookie Y/N 😅

pierregasly Don't really care about seeing Lando on your Insta grid 24/7, just please shut up about stroopwafels

ynsainzzz pierregasly but... but they're good 🥺

landonorris pierregasly are you shaming my girlfriend for having a stroopwafel addiction?! You and me outside Gasman 😡

pierregasly landonorris aight bet you muppet 😡

francisca.cgomes pierregasly landonorris sit down you two 🙄

landonorris francisca.cgomes okay sry Kika 😔

pierregasly francisca.cgomes sorry Kika ):

username francisca.cgomes damn you've got them in a chokehold bestie 😳

francisca.cgomes username 😭😭 god i am not your strongest soldier

username2 i knew you were one of us miss y/n 😆😆

username3 I missed seeing you on your own grid 😭 she really is one of us

ynsainzzz's story

ynsainzzz

liked by lewishamilton, carlossainz55 and 993,197 others

ynsainzzz mexico dump is here!!!! + since you all love when i explain each pic...

1. me in the ferrari garage since mr. carlossainz55 practically dragged me by the ear to come watch him during quali (dw landonorris i was watching you the whole time😉)

2. dinner w carlitos that night. again, dragged me by the ear

3. the amazing amazing mclaren pit crew. srsly i love you guys thank you for all your hard work 🙏🏽

4. landoscar. need i say more

5. me fangirling outside lewis' garage bc yes he's my friend but he is STILL lewis hamilton 😳

6. lewis. i caught a meme of lewis. am i lucky or am i lucky

tagged: scuderiaferrari, carlossainz55, mclaren, landonorris, oscarpiastri, mercedesamgf1, lewishamilton

view all 69,663 comments

landonorris Baby I live for your dumps. And I mean every kind of dump.

ynsainzzz landonorris wow you really love me

landonorris ynsainzzz word. take that Y/N's exes

ynsainzzz landonorris okay yeah don't do that.

carlossainz55 I did not drag you by the ear, stop being so dramatic. Can't a brother just feel like having his sister's support right then and there for a while?

ynsainzzz carlossainz55 okay big man, no need to write a whole ass essay in my comments 💀

carlossainz55 Also I paid for dinner stop whining

ynsainzzz carlossainz55 obviously, you know i'd never go on a sibling date with you if you're not paying

francisca.cgomes ynsainzzz that's a W sister right there

carlosainz55 francisca.cgomes come on Kika, on my side for once

francisca.cgomes carlossainz55 nah. the y/n side is the better side. sry carlos

lewishamilton Did me dirty in the last pic Y/N 😅 you promised you wouldn't post it tho

ynsainzzz lewishamilton sorry lew it's too funny not to!!! 💜

pierregasly It's nice to see red on your grid ❤️

ynsainzzz pierregasly leave me alone im still mad at your stroopwafel comment

pierregasly ynsainzzz come on Y/N, I already said sorry 😭😭 come on I'll buy you all the stroopwafels you want and I'll never say another word about it ever

carlandoooo ynsainzzz if it's any consolation, i love your obsession with stroopwafels Y/N

ynsainzzz carlandoooo you're my best friend. i'll tell kika to add you in the grp chat

carlandoooo ynsainzzz love you 😘 see pierregasly it's not hard to embrace the stroop

francisca.cgomes carlandoooo on god

#lando norris #ln #ln4 #lando norris x sister!reader #lando norris x you #lando norris x oc #lando norris x y/n #lando norris x reader #lando norris smau #lando norris fic #lando norris fanfic #formula 1 #f1 #formula 1 x female reader #formula 1 x oc #formula 1 x y/n #formula 1 x you #formula 1 x reader #formula 1 social media au #formula 1 fic #f1 x female reader #f1 x y/n #f1 x oc #f1 x you #f1 x reader #f1 social media au #f1 imagine #f1 fic #f1 fanfic

[starberry-cupcake]

Alrighty, here we are again

previously, in harrowcita the ninth:

this happened

currently, after ch. 2 (once again, I wanted to read more but realized these notes were too long):

first off, I need to point out something very important

reading the first part of gideon, this was how the dynamic of her and harrow felt like, from gideon's pv in the first chapter or two

this is what it actually was like, now that I have harrow's pv

so, now that we've cleared that up, let me tell you about the emperor

I don't know about this guy

something's not adding up for me

I feel like he's either lying, telling half-truths that benefit him or he doesn't know what he's doing

and none of those options are very god-tier

he's also constantly going like "harrow, I'm gonna let you choose" and five minutes later he's "oh, actually, you never had a choice to begin with, I'm so sorry about that"

I don't think you're sorry if you've done it like 3 times since we've met you

maybe say what you actually mean, unless you're full of lies

he takes harrow on a walk through the clown death star ship he's got going on

and takes her to his coffin hangar

shows her coffins of the people he made to send to the ninth

the new ninth people

aiglamene is gonna have to work overtime

(I can't believe I've never forgotten her name)

and then there's coffins for all the little friends we made in canaan house

:) ♥

except there are a bunch missing people

let me just note the info we got

the second says "no human remains inside"

last we saw them, martita was KO and judith was bleeding to death

nobody from the third as well, and we already have suspicions about wtf is happening with these parsley and cilantro twins

from the sixth, one is empty because CAMILLA ISN'T DEAD GODDAMMIT

the other one has little pieces of palmolive in it

me picking up the pieces of palmolive from the decor of canaan house

there is one coffin for not!dulcinea

the emperor guy says he's taking her with the other lyctors

as long as he flushes afterwards, it's fine

we are, by the way, trying very hard to not mention gideon ever, apparently

just wanna point out real quick that THERE'S A LOT OF PEOPLE UNACCOUNTED FOR and this guy is GOD so he's doing a terrible job

or he's not saying all he knows

or both

all this time, ice cube barbie is tagging along

ice cube barbie is harrow's babadook, which I stan tbh

since she's here to stay, let me show you another pic of that doll because it's my favorite from the haunted beauty collection

so, the emperor starts telling harrow what they're fighting against (or escaping from) and where they came from

this man explains what he wants and leaves out what he wants

at one point, when harrow asks something like "how will you explain all the dead people?" he goes like

he asks harrow about death and the process of it and she says, at one point:

"In cases of apopneumatic shock, where death is sudden and violent, the energy burst can be sufficient to countermand osmotic pressure and leave the soul temporarily isolated. Whence we gain the ghost, and the revenant."

this is important for the later conversation about revenant beasts, which are the things that the emperor is having trouble with

but I highlighted it because I am adding it to my notes of "reasons why gideon could be not dead forever"

I am holding on to all the hope I can get

because if sudden violent death can leave the soul temporarily isolated and not do the due process of transitioning to the river or whatnot

and gideon isn't within harrow or whatever

maybe

maybe she's somewhere else

I don't know, let me have this, don't tell me anything, just

LET ME HAVE THIS

so yeah, basically the story is that the emperor is running away from nine revenant beasts, which were created during the resurrection, when a planet was blasted off

nine beasts like nine houses

there's three left now

I don't know about all of this, you guys

I don't have enough context and I don't trust this guy here

how do I know where we stand in all this?

what if he's not the good guy and what he did was some planetary bullshit to begin with?

what if the other side is the good guys?

what if he's killed by one of our heroes? like harrow or gideon or camilla?

because he's actually a false god jerk?

what if I kill him????

and then we have two last important things

first, barbie ice cube speaks now

love that for her

then, very crucial

the non-gideon mentioning seems to be a Thing

I don't know if I'm understanding correctly but

the emperor mentions ortus

ortus, the one we knew, our old pal from the ninth

and I got the feeling, idk if I got it, that he just assumed ortus was the cavalier she had with her

because 1) he didn't go down there and 2) no body was recovered

and then harrow also mentions ortus, but she says he "died thinking it was the only gift he was capable of giving" and that she "wasted it" and idk if she did that because she's blocking sad memories, she's confused because she's Not Doing Great Mentally Right Now, she doesn't wanna tell the emperor what actually happened, or all three

there's stuff about ortus I don't know, but that sounds to me more like what gideon said than what ortus "Got Blown To Bits With Mom In Ship" did

and then the emperor says his name again with suspicion and I'm like

I think this clown doesn't know

I think he doesn't know about gideon

I think he doesn't know about gideon or who gideon actually is

which we don't know yet either but it's probably important

because she's hercules, as previously established

I think maybe gideon is an outlier

an important planetary outlier

I have hopes

also, another day without camilla

god (not this one) I hope I can make shorter recaps but there's so much happening, I'm so sorry

#luly reacts to tlt #harrow the ninth #harrow the ninth spoilers #tlt spoilers #long post #the locked tomb

[angelltheninth]

Can u do a meeting up with an online friend with genshin men who might have a crush on you maybe kaeya childe and ayato or anyone else you want. Also i absolutely adore your writing style

This hits hard cause I've made some friends online over the pandemic and have actually had the chance to meet them, it was the best thing ever.

Pairing: Kaeya, Childe, Ayato x Fem!Reader

Tags: fluff, developing relationship, friends to lovers, online friends, meet cute, flirting, texting, long distance

A/N: Not gonna lie, meeting some of my online friends really made me cry of joy.

KAEYA

He was the one who wanted to meet up bad but was nervous about it all the same. Kaeya is pretty cocky while talking to you online, through his texts and the photos he sends. When he's making plans to meet up he wants it to be more spontaneous then a full plan. After all he sends you things randomly so why not see where things go. Kaeya is the perfect gentleman in person, at first, but once he relaxes a little his flirty side comes through. Will most likely ask you out on a walk, something low pressure and casual for your first meet up. Only towards the end does he hold your hand and is the first one to text you a heart when the meeting ends, asking when the next one is.

"Hah, sorry if I seem a little nervous right now, some of my friends were telling me I'm overreacting but can you blame a guy when he's meeting such a pretty girl in person for the first time? My eye patch is real. Did you think I was just trying to look cool over camera all this time?"

CHILDE

Childe spends a few hours before the meeting going though his clothes. He's normally quite casual for when he talks to you but now you're meeting for dinner. Going on a first date with someone he's bein flirting on and off with for the past few months is scarier then he thought it'd be. Must be because he's so invested in you. He has something of a reputation as a ladies man so Childe wants to make sure you don't get a bad first impression. He would take a lot of photos of himself shirtless and even video chat while shirtless, after he just got back from the gym but having you actually touch him, wrap your arm around his while you walk, smile at him from across the table and leave your hand there for him to reach out and hold is something that has his head spinning and his stomach twisting.

"You keep looking up at me, didn't you get enough pics before? I can send more. Or maybe you want my abs? W-What's wrong? Oh. Am I coming on too strong? Ahg! Look I just... I don't wanna mess this up you know? I know I've got a reputation and I don't want you to think I was cozying up to you just to get in your pants or something. Can I start this over? I swear I'll be cool this time."

AYATO

He makes an iron clad schedule for the two of you. Too bad it falls apart quickly when it starts to rain. He'd been so excited to meet you that he forgot to look at the weather forecast for that day! Now you're stuck in this little café for who knows how long. Ayato tries to make the best of it, complimenting you at every turn, sitting close to you and inching his hand closer and closer until it covers yours. Will wait for you to kiss his cheek first but will be the one to ask for a second date afterwards, if you don't beat him to it. Ayato will always text you a good morning message first thing when he wakes up without fail, and after you begin dating its followed by an affectionate nickname.

"How could I forget this? I am so sorry, I told you all about these plans and you dressed up beautifully today and now... you know what we can still make the most of it can't we? Thank you, that you're not upset I mean."

#genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #kaeya x reader #childe x reader #ayato kamisato x reader #genshin impact imagines #genshin impact headcanons #genshin impact fluff #genshin imagines #genshin headcanons #genshin fluff #genshin impact x female reader #genshin impact x you #genshin x female reader #genshin x you #kaeya fluff #childe fluff #ayato fluff

[rotten-pup]

18 + Only, minors will be blocked, you are not welcome here

☆About Me☆

You can call me Rot. I'm 21, he/they, transmasc and this is my horny blog! This will be my general horny content blog where I'll post/reblog the stuff I like however I will separate some of my interests and kinks onto other blogs. I am pre-t and pre-op. Generally just queer but I like people of any gender however I do lean more t4t

My asks are open for anything! Send me stuff!!

My dms are openish. At this time I'm not looking to sext and heavily flirt. I'm going through a lot and will be slow to respond most times. I really only have the brainpower to hold conversations about my special interests or if someone infodumps to me and I get to ask questions.

I'm comfortable with most masculine or feminine terms when referring to the parts of my body, I don't usually have a preference. I'll update this when I find something I don't like! I should probably add on that I'm a switch/vers in theory, mostly a sub/bottom in practice as I'm not confident enough to fully dom/top quite yet.

(rest of this post is a work in progress, bear with me please)

Without any further ado; list of content/kinks I like that you may find here(list incomplete):

Absolutely Yes: Petplay, Degradation, Praise (giving) Bondage, Impact play, Breeding, Somno, Edging, Overstim, Oviposition, Humiliation, Primal Play, Intox, Light CNC, Mommy kink??

Sometimes/Maybe: Choking (receiving), Praise (receiving)

Hard Limits: Scat, Death/Slob Feedism, Inflation, Raceplay, Feet

Kinks that will be mostly likely on a separate blog that I still like: Hypno, Knife play, Heavy CNC

Outside of all that, I'm going to list my sideblogs and tags down below and any other information I see fit so this intro isn't too long! (ps: if you know me from my previously deleted blog, feel free to say hi, I'd love to talk to y'all again, I was going through a really rough patch and honestly I'm so sorry I just disappeared)

My tags:

- rotposts: original content

- rotbarks: answering asks

- rotspeaks: non horny, rambles, or unrelated content

My sideblogs:

- @barkandbarkandbark : vent blog, rambles, literally anything just me talking to the digital void

Just a little more about me:

- @boymommy-brainrot : Mommy kink blog, a mostly gentle softer vibe, pics of me will also be on here

*Mommy is mostly a title, I like taking care of people and being gentle with them and just making them happy through acts of service. My kink is in no way an incest thing and as much I may use certain terms/words it is also not a ddlg thing either

Major theatre nerd, musicals, plays, plays with music, don't matter I love them all! I've acted in a few local shows, I've ran lights, I've staged managed, done a few other things. I'm really into dungeons and dragons and other ttrpgs and board games, and card games like magic the gathering. I love to draw and I love my silly little ocs I've made. If you upload your ocs or your fursona on your blog, there's a chance I might draw them, I like making art for others when I have the time.

Uhhhh, idk what else. I'm currently playing palword, this war of mine, overcooked 2, lethal company, escape the backrooms. However I do have many other games and if you ever wanted to play, just dm me, I'm down to find sometimes as long as we've talked a bit first and we vibe! I have major brainrot for Dead by Daylight right now so so badly

Oh yeah I fucking love robots I absolutely love robots and puppets I'm surprised I'm not like into fnaf more but man I just want to scream they're so cool.

I'll probably think of some other things to put here idk lol

#rotposts #rotbarks #rotspeaks

[kykyonthemoon]

hi, kỳ kỳ!! i hope you're doing well 🤲❤

i just wanted to ask about how rafayel would react and comfort reader who is very insecure about their eyes because it's obviously asymmetrical and can be seen clearly in pictures? thank you so much in advance!!

also, you have a very pretty name 🤲❤

Dear Anon-san,

Thank you so much for the request, and your compliments <3 As a person who isn't so confident with my look, I do feel related so much to the reader/MC here in this fic.

I hope you like this piece too, and sorry it took a while to be published ^^

To anyone who are reading this, remember that you are always beautiful <3

In His Eyes

In his eyes, you are the most flawless creature.

ಇ. Rafayel x Reader/MC

ಇ. Tags: soft fluff, no established relationship yet, comfort, self-esteem issues

ಇ. Word count: 1k1

ಇ. Masterlist

ಇ. A big thanks to Tram Hoang for the cute Rafayel pic. Other pics are from X

You had never felt beautiful.

You had never looked in the mirror for more than three minutes.

You had never kept photos of yourself on the phone.

Since you were never confident with your appearance.

Everything about you was ordinary; which meant, you were not as hideous as a monster, yet not deemed lovely. The most dreadful thing on your body was, tragically, the most visible: your eyes.

They were asymmetrical. One of your eyes was smaller than the other, and it seemed as if the eyelid was dropping. Looking from the side, perhaps no one would notice it, but when facing you directly, they surely could not overlook your unequal eyes. That was also the reason you never dared to look anyone right in the eye.

For they would see how ugly you were.

You also avoided taking photos as much as possible. Looking at other people preserving their bright and happy moments, you only felt sorry for yourself. If only you could be a little more confident, enough to see yourself as beautiful.

That happened before you met him. Rafayel was the most flawless person you'd ever known. Everything about him seemed ethereal and exquisite. His hair, his face, his physique. His eyes. It's almost as if he strolled right out of a painting. And you could spend hours lost in those eyes, when he was not paying attention to you.

That day, as Rafayel and you were in his studio, you noticed a little clicking sound. Rafayel stood in a corner of the room, camera in hand.

“What are you doing?” You asked.

"I am taking a photograph of you. May I?" Rafayel tilted his head behind the lens and smiled pleasantly at you.

Your heart dropped a beat. You felt both nervous and scared.

“Why do you want to take a photo of me?”

“Because you are very beautiful.”

You never believed what he had just said.

"You're just saying that out of politeness." You shook your head, attempting to dispel any notion that someone as perfect as him would find you charming.

“If it was just out of politeness, I would compliment you by saying, “This shirt really suits you,” or “You look cute with that hairstyle.” When I declare that someone is beautiful, I truly mean it. Just the person, not anything else.”

Your cheeks heated up, contending for the color red with the bouquet of roses in your hands. You acted awkwardly as you placed them on the table. Rafayel had requested you to get some flowers for his new project. You unexpectedly became his reluctant model.

“So? May I take photos of you?”

Rafayel asked sincerely. After a moment of awkwardness, you nodded in agreement. He asked you to hold the bouquet and pose around the studio for him. But, out of habit, you did not dare to stare directly at him.

“Don't constantly turn your head to one side like that. I'm right here.” Rafayel approached as you sat in the chair. His hand raised your chin, forcing you to gaze directly into his eyes. But you lowered your eyes again.

“Um… I don't really like taking pictures…”

“Wait until you see the pictures I took of you. You will definitely think differently.”

You doubted that, but still agreed to let Rafayel take a few more shots of you in front.

Since then, it appeared that he enjoyed photographing you at any time and anywhere. Rafayel consistently stated you were lovely. You merely smiled out of politeness in response. You still lacked the courage to look at the photographs he shot. Every time you were around him, you felt pity within. He was perfect, and you were everything not.

You were hideous. You had low self-esteem. You did not dare to look at him in the way he anticipated. But, like a withered flower suddenly nurtured with sweet words of encouragement every day, you began to think that he saw something blooming in you, and it was beautiful.

"You don't have to lower your head every time you go out with me."

"Hey, you don't need to stand so far away from me. Otherwise, how will you protect me?"

"Look at me. I'm trying to capture your beauty through the lens.”

Day by day, he made you feel like you were the most beautiful creature in his eyes.

He hung all the photos he had taken of you on the corner of the wall in his studio. The photographs were also organized based on the shape of your portrait. You almost fainted with amazement. No one had ever done anything like that for you. No one had ever made you look at your own photos and realize, I'm so pretty!

“I know you don't like your eyes.” Rafayel's voice burst out immediately behind you as he approached. "But I really do."

"Why?…" You spoke as if choking up. You couldn't breathe after what Rafayel had done for you. “They are asymmetrical… They're ugly… My eyes are not perfect…”

Rafayel placed a palm on his chin, seeming puzzled. He looked to the photographs and said:

“What do you see when you look at these? For me, I don't see anything imperfect. I just see a very beautiful girl whose eyes always light up when she's close to me. Here…” His fingers ran over each frame. “This moment was when she arranged flowers for me while singing to herself. This was when she was so focused on her work that she didn't notice that I covertly took a snapshot. And this was taken when she laughed so hard because of the joke I told... I adore staring into her eyes, because I find my reflection in them. Her eyes always reveal her true feelings to me. I wish she would look at me a little longer.”

Rafayel halted. You had tears in the corners of your eyes. You felt you whole body shaking while attempting to suppress your feelings.

“I wish I could show her how amazing she is through my eyes.”

Rafayel's fingertips left the photographs, then delicately stroked your cheek. He drew a soft line below the eye, which you always thought was unattractive. You were about to burst into tears, but still did your best to convey these sincere words:

“Thank you… Thank you so much, Rafayel…”

He pulled you into his arms as your tears began to fall. Tears of happiness. He had helped you find your beauty, helped you love yourself more. Maybe the self-depreciation would not go away right away, but you resolved that from this point on, anytime you felt like resenting something about your body, you would remember every warm word he had for you.

#heart hunters series #moments with rafayel #fanfic #fanfiction #love and deepspace #love and deepspace fanfic #lads fanfic #lnds fanfic #rafayel #qi yu #homura #rafayel x you #rafayel x reader #rafayel x mc #lads x you #lads x reader #lnds x reader #lnds rafayel #lads rafayel #l&ds rafayel #l&ds x reader #l&ds #lads fluff #rafayel love and deepspace #rafayel l&ds #qi yu x reader #qi yu love and deepspace #qi yu x mc #homura x reader #banners and dividers by me

[sunkissed-zegras]

✮ '𝟐𝟐 𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐫 𝐝𝐮𝐦𝐩, zegras' have more fun

♡ ─ summary | little flashback to when y/n posts her 2022 summer dump on instagram to update everyone on where she's going to college.

♡ ─ warnings | literally just fun, fake arguments, mention of ohio state.., literally nothing else.

♡ ─ taglist | tbd

♡ ─ ev's notes | i'm so excited for this au, i already fell with all the dynamics lmao. i'm trying something relatively new with the best friend oc's, please lmk how u feel about them!

back to navigation back to AU masterlist

ynzegras bedford, new york

Liked by trevorzegras, briesbagels, jhughes and 2,832 more

ynzegras | summer dumpie '22... also let's all take a guess on where i am going 4 uni (hint: it's red) tagged: pchandler68, briesbagels, avazegras, trevorzegras, griffinzegras august 7th, 2022

View all 234 comments

briesbagels | ohio state????

↳ ynzegras bingo!

briesbagels | gorgeous gorgeous best friend <3

↳ ynzegras ALL U BRIE, ILY

jhughes | LMAO YOU DID THEM SO DIRTY IN THE LAST SLIDE

↳ trevorzegras ha ha ha, i'll fr make u laugh your ass off with those screenshots in my camera roll

↳ jhughes sorry king, u look good man

lhughes_06 | new fav wolverine

↳ ynzegras love ya lukey pookie

↳ pchandler68 what about me bro 😢

↳ lhughes_06 sorry man, ur both my fav

↳ ynzegras it's okay lukey you can be honest.. (it's me)

_quinnhughes | growing up too fast little z 🥹

↳ trevorzegras why didn't you cry when i grow up too fast??

↳ _quinnhughes i had an aneurysm reading that and because i dont fw you like that buddy

↳ ynzegras damn... u rly gonna take that trev??

↳ trevorzegras shut up """"LITTLE Z."""" 😐😐😐

↳ _quinnhughes im jk, trev (jk)

pchandler68 photo creds????

↳ briesbagels YA TO ME?? 😑

↳ pchandler68 yeah no, to ME

↳ briesbagels it's clearly MY digital camera parker

↳ ynzegras ooo she's going by first name basis, you're in real trouble chandler 👀

↳ trevorzegras guys stop arguing

↳ briesbagels tf asked you, trevor

↳ trevorzegras 😐😶

avazegras | don't remind me 😭😭 you're leaving me!!!!!

↳ ynzegras IM SORRY, YOU HAVE A YEAR LEFT, YOU GOT THIS AVA!!!!!!!

griffinzegras | gtfo you're no longer invited back to the house after u posted that pic

↳ ynzegras be nice griff i'm leaving in 2 weeks

↳ griffinzegras yeah good, ur no longer gonna eat my leftover wings and take my shirts for gym cover-ups 😑

↳ trevorzegras SHE DOES THAT SHIT TO YOU TOO???? you have a problem y/n

↳ ynzegras bruh. im getting ganged up on

↳ briesbagels leave her alone, she's just a teenage girl!!!!!

↳ trevorzegras fucking barely, she's 17 🙄

↳ ynzegras when he literally doesn't understand numbers????? 😭😭

umichwsoccer | 👀👀

#nhl imagine #nhl #nhl fic #adam fantilli #jack hughes #nhl oneshot #hockey #umich wolverines #umich blurbs #umich imagine #umich hockey #umich boys #dylan duke #luca fantilli #ethan edwards #trevor zegras fic #trevor zegras x reader #trevor zegras fluff #trevor zegras imagine #trevor zegras #jack hughes blurb #jack hughes fic #jack hughes x reader #jack hughes imagine #jack hughes x y/n #quinn hughes #hughes brothers #hughes family #luke hughes #quinn hughes x reader

[sgiandubh]

This what I mean 👇🏻

https://www.pinterest.com/pin/3518505943900484/

Dear (returning) Bitchy Anon,

I wrote this answer yesterday, but I am posting it today, because I did not want to give you any satisfaction. Your coming back in here proves there is not an ounce of humanity left in you: just a #silly obsession for an actress who does not even know or care you exist. I promise you she doesn't. Confidently so.

But then, onwards to your 'evidence'.

You thought you would give me the creeps on Christmas Day with a controversial picture allegedly taken at the Weinstein (yes, that Weinstein!) and Netflix Golden Globes afterparty, on January 8, 2017?

No, seriously now: you actually did?

Crikey. As we say in Romanian (and yes, it is very rude, but also dementedly funny): mi se umple fundul de lacrimi/my arse is in tears. Perhaps the equivalent of I don't give a flying fuck, btw.

If you did read me before posting your laughable shite, and I think you did, you should know by now how I usually work, at least for those things I choose to make public (the rest is none of your business, I am afraid). You found this pic on Pinterest, originating from a Tumblr blog: @clairebeauchampfan. Since this person started blogging one year later than the moment this picture was taken, she probably found it chez Contemplating Outlander. You know, that pseudo-social scientist-cum-shrink, who thinks people are machines and adds a shitload of footnotes to her rantings, because she truly believes it makes her biased crap more credible (it doesn't, and this comes from an academic researcher: it is legit pathetic). So Claire Beauchamp Fan shared it and forgive me, but I did not bother finding her post, I just looked for her source (*urv's fetish):

This took me to CO's really nasty blog and you could have spared me that ordeal, Anon: it's literally akin to severe constipation. And then, onwards to Instagram:

A further search revealed she was wearing a Romanian designer (Maria Lucia Hohan) dress and Amrapali earrings. And then, I read the comments on that Insta post. Maybe you'd read them too, they are enlightening - for someone who's 'been around since 2015', people are rather confused about his real status in her life, don't you think?

But Internet is really forever, no matter how you try to hide your trash, Anon. Here is a copy of O'Callaghan's post which was, indeed, deleted: maybe *urv was too insistent? It wouldn't surprise me:

She should have won the Golden Globe in 2017, that's true. And it was S, not McIdiot, the one who told the Internet she should have won all those prizes, if memory serves. How odd McIdiot is never mentioned in that particular post (y'all would have paraded it for YEARS, if it were so) - but household staff, no matter how promoted, never really is. And before you screech, tell all the damn truth Anon, and put this pic in its right context:

How odd the 'successful music producer and entrepreneur' (he is not successful, nor a music producer and much less an entrepreneur) was not tagged, by someone who is active in the industry, who clearly knows C and who attended that Golden Globes gala!

Just a last word on that pic. C was obviously smiling and talking animatedly with O'Callaghan and then McIdiot (who looks malnourished - but hey, humble beginnings, eh?) got dragged in the middle, for the convenient pic. I sometimes wonder what kind of social life you people have and sadly, I have to say - next to 0, for some of you. I never fuck the dozens of men with whom I do have similar 'just because' pics, interrupting my conversation in the middle of an event.

Also, check this very warm & fuzzy pic with one prominent member of her own, personal and very, very gay Circle of Trust. Because I am sorry, but what straight man wears lipstick, as McIdiot clearly does (and no, it's not because they were smooching in the lavatories, what are you, 14?):

She looks happy, doesn't she?

I mean: really, honey. Get a Real Life and stop trying to persuade me with ye olde Pinterest pics you clearly are completely clueless about, ok?

And before you open your mouth to vomit CO's trash again, please carefully do your homework about McIdiot. But as carefully as I did. Then you can talk, share your interesting findings. Merry Christmas and....

#anon #fandom #shitshow

[mashed-potato101]

Imagine this...

|Twisted Wonderland|

Mc turns into a child due to an alchemy accident. Instead of making someone/people do the babysitting, it's the staff who will take care of them

Masterlist | Parts 1-?

≪Prev |[Part 2]| Next(TBA)≫

A/N: This is actually longer than I expected. I might turn this into a mini-series. I am also unsure about the characters' class schedules and who's in their classes. I made a few assumptions and just went with the flow.

Tag list: @pansexualproblemchild

Students are waiting inside the classroom for their professor to start class. Just as the bell rang, Trein walked in with Lucius in his arms like usual. But this time it is different. Everyone in the classroom gasped when they saw your little figure walking by his side, hand in hand. You wore an outfit that was obviously designed by Crewel and a backpack with stuff he also packed for you. 

“You can sit down on an empty seat if you’d like,” Trein suggested. 

You nodded and made your way to an empty seat, which happens to be next to the one and only Malleus himself. You sat down and placed your backpack beside you, taking out your crayons and coloring book. You glance to your left to see the dragon fae eyeing you. Your eyes widened and unexpectedly embraced him. 

“Tsunotaro!” you burst with a huge smile on your face. 

Everyone jumped from what you’ve just done.  

“Ts… Tsun…. TSUNOTARO!?!” 

Not only did you hug the future king of faes, but call him a silly name! CHILD PLEASE WHAT ARE YOU DOING YOU’RE TOO YOUNG TO DIE!!!! 

The room grew tense, worrying what Malleus would do to you. Instead, he placed his hand on your head and smiled. 

“fufufu... Hello, child of man.” 

The students let out a loud sigh of relief and thought the fae would be angry. Trein, now at the desk with Lucius on top, clicked his tongue. 

“(y/n), please do not disrupt my class.” 

You released Malleus from your hold, which earned a pout from him. “Sorry, Grandpa Trein.” 

Students are now holding in their squeal from your cuteness. 

“Now, shall we begin?” 

You silently colored in your coloring book, legs swinging as the class progressed. Many students would often peek at you. On the other side of the room, Cater would secretly snap pics and upload them on Magic Cam. Look how cute mini prefect is! #socute #Iwannahugthem 

Malleus couldn’t focus on Trein’s lecture and watched you coloring instead. He already knows some of the lessons, so why should he be listening? He admits you looked cute when you were in your normal form. But you look even more adorable in this figure!  

While coloring your book, you often listened to Trein’s lecture. Generally, you'd get bored and sleepy from his voice. But now, it’s like listening to your grandpa telling you tales from his olden days. 

In the middle of class, you grew sleepy and shortly took a nap, using your arms as a pillow for your head. So young, so innocent, so pure. The horned man beside you is fighting his dragon urge to sweep you away and place you into a tall tower, isolating you from danger.  

Lilia peeks at you and smirks, remembering the times he took care of little Malleus, Silver, and Sebek. Oh, how he missed those days. His caretaker instincts are going off. Like Malleus, he’d like to kidnap you and take care of you instead. 

Time has passed as you were still asleep. The bell rang, and the final class of today are now over. 

“I hope those who were distracted or slept through the lecture have learned today’s lesson.” 

All the students soon got up from their seats and walked out of the classroom. Trein walked up to your sleeping figure with Lucious, who hopped onto the desk and rubbed his head to yours with a purr. You stirred and rubbed your eyes, slowly opening them to see the furry cat and Trein in front of you. 

“Mmmm... What time is it?” 

“It is now the end of school time,” Trein spoke, “Crewel will pick you up any moment soon. I suggest collecting your things and getting ready.” 

You nodded with an okay response and began packing your things. Afterward, you, Trein with Lucious walked out of the classroom. The two waited for your guardian figure to arrive as a few students walked by. 

“(y/n)!” 

You both glance to the side to see Crewel walking toward the two of you. You beamed out a wide smile, spread your arms out, and ran up to him. 

“Papa!” 

Crewel lifted you in the air as you laughed in joy. 

“My pup! Did you behave well?” 

“Mhm,” you nodded, “I was coloring my coloring book while I listened to grandpa Trein. But I got sleepy, and I went to sleep.” 

The man who lifted you cradled you in his arms, humming in response. 

“Very well then. Thank you, Trein, for taking care of them.” 

“It was no problem,” Trein smiled, “It was like watching over my grandchildren. Observing (y/n) reminds me of them. Don’t you agree, Lucious?” 

The cat meowed in agreement. Both adults bid farewell and parted both ways. Crewel takes you to Mr. S’s mystery shop. For being such a good pup today, he decided to buy you a snack. The two of you walked inside the building. 

“Welcome to Mr. S’s mystery shop!” greeted Sam. 

You ran up to Sam, “Hi Mister Sam!” 

“Hello there, my little demon!” Sam patted your head. “Ah, and hello to you too, Divus. What can I do for the both of you?” 

“Hello, Sam. Me and my pup want to get some snacks before we head home.” 

“I have many kinds of snacks, all of them. In fact, they’re all in stock! Now, what will that be, my little demon?” 

You looked at Sam, then Crewel, not knowing what to get. You may have bought some tuna cans for Grim, but you rarely buy yourself some snacks just to save some money. 

“How about you look around the shop and see what you’d like?” suggested Sam. 

Before Crewel could protest, you already ran off. “Pup wait-!”

“Do not worry, my friend. I’m sure they’ll be safe in my friends' hands, ehehe”

 You went from aisle to aisle until you finally found your favorite snack. Unfortunately, it is way up high on the shelf and you’re too small for it to reach. Pouting, you soon tried to grab for it by jumping. 

“Oya? What do we have here?” 

You stopped and looked towards where the voice came from. Standing a few feet away from you is Ruggie, staring at your small figure. He is holding a few items, probably doing errands Leona gave him as usual. 

“Shishishishishi. It looks like the rumors were correct, our little prefect turned even smaller.”  

You only stare at him, making Ruggie sweat drop. 

“hehehe... I'm just gonna go and get the rest of the stuf- OI!” 

You stopped him from leaving by pulling his uniform, startling the hyena. As he turned to you in confusion, you pointed towards one of the shelves. He looked where you pointed to see a bag of snacks you wanted. 

“Ah, so you want me to get that for ya?” 

You only nodded. Ruggie chuckled, grabbed the treat, and handed it to you. But before you could grab it, Ruggie lifted high where you couldn’t reach. 

“But what am I getting from this? Hmm?” He teased. 

You extended your arms and tried to grab the bag, but Ruggie kept teasing you. The hyena chuckled, amused by your attempts. Until he heard sniffling. He stopped and panicked once he saw your teary eyes. He could feel his surroundings cold with eyes glaring at his back. 

“Okay okay! Here ya go! Jeez, I was just joking!” 

At last, he finally gave you the snack. You held it up high like it was given to you by God. The hyena let out an air of relief, feeling the cold aura gone. The two heard Crewel shout across the store. 

“Pup! Have you found something yet?” 

You gasp and are about to run out of the aisle. But you stopped, turned around, and ran towards Ruggie, tackling his leg. 

“Thank you, Ruggie-Sempai!” 

You quickly let go and left, leaving the hyena with his face flushing in pink and his hand rubbing his back neck. You ran towards the two male adults and handed your treat. Sam took the snack. 

“Are you sure that’s the one you want?” asked Crewel. 

You nodded, “Yes papa!” 

You hopped in excitement as Crewel handed Sam the madols to pay. The shadow man gave the paid snack to you. 

“Thank you, Mister Sam!” You chirped. 

“No, thank YOU! It is a pleasure doing business with you!” grinned Sam. 

“Come on now, pup,” Crewel called, “Let’s get going.” 

You grabbed Crewel’s hand and waved at Sam, “Bye-bye!” 

“See you tomorrow, my little demon!” 

You and Crewel walked out of the shop with your favorite snack in hand. You opened the bag of treats and began feasting them. You showed your guardian the open bag, signaling him to take some. 

“It’s alright pup, I’m not hungry.” 

You turned your head to the side, “Are you sure?” 

He patted your head, “Yes I’m sure, it is yours to eat.” 

Crewel quickly took you out of school to avoid Crowley along the way. The two are now making way inside Crewel’s house, greeted by two tall dalmatians. You giggled as they pounced at you, giving you kisses. 

“Hello Pongo! Hello Perdita!” You giggled. The two dogs barked happily. 

“Okay, dogs, that’s enough.” Crewel ordered, “Sit!” 

The two dogs stopped and sat as they were told. You and Crewel spend most of your time together, watching television, cooking dinner, and playing dress-ups. He also gave you a lovely bath and tucked you in bed. 

On the next day, the second years walked outside to the field with their magic brooms. They all waited and began conversations as they waited for their instructor. The sound of a whistle was heard across them. 

“Magic starts with muscles!” 

Vargas jumped in front of the group of students and struck a pose. Some students groaned as others smiled in excitement. 

“Muscles!” 

The students jump at the sight of you riding on his shoulder with a huge smile.

“Is that, the prefect of the Ramshackle dorm?” “I’ve seen them yesterday inside Trein’s class.” “Awww! They look so tiny!” “Kawaii!”  

“Um, Coach Vargas,” Riddle called, “What is (y/n) doing here with us?” 

“Yeah. From what I heard yesterday, aren’t they supposed to be Crewel?” Kalim followed.  

“You see, fellow bean sprouts, Crewel made a deal to pass (y/n) to us staffs one by one. And today, I get to be the one to take care of them until later! And do now worry, I will be taking good care of them and show them every way to get these muscles!”  

Vargas did another muscular pose as you let out a giggle. “Ahem- But for now, we need to focus on class. I want everyone to get on to your broom and loop around the field 20 times.” 

Few students groaned; others remained silent. They began doing as they were told to do. In the middle of class, you grew bored watching them flying. You let out a frown and pat his head. 

“What’s wrong, little sprout?” 

“I’m bored. I wanna get down.” 

He laughed. “Okay okay, I’ll get you out.” 

Vargas lifted you from his shoulder and placed you down on the ground. You then ran around the grass. 

“Don’t go too far and out of my sight!” 

A few moments later, Crowley barges into the field and strolls toward the muscled coach. 

“Crowley, what brings you here?” Vargas questioned. 

“Well, I have nothing much to do, and I also want to see my little hatchling!” 

“Your... little hatchling?” 

“Why, (y/n) of course!” 

Crowley looked to the side to see your little figure on the grass, playing with dandelions. 

“Ah, and they’re right there! My little hatchling!” 

You look to the side to see the crow man walking towards you. “Hi Mister Crowley! What are you doing here?” 

Crowley let out a gasp, “My, why do you people ask like you don’t want me here?” He let out a fake tear from his eye and pulled you up. “I just want to see how my precious child is! For I am gracious!” 

You tilted your head from his words. “Um... your precious child? But-” 

“(y/n)! I almost forgot,” Vargas called. He handed you a black and white fur coat that is your size. “Here’s the coat Crewel left for you. It’s pretty chilly out here and we don’t want you to catch a cold.” 

You smiled and took the fur coat, “Thank you, Uncle Vargas!” 

As you wore the coat, Vargas looked at Crowley, “And you, please don’t bother the kid. They’re doing fine without you.” 

The masked man scoffed and carried you up. “How about you? Don’t you have a class to teach?” 

“As you can see, the students are training on their brooms and testing their skills and speed. They have also experienced thanks to me, and I’m sure they’ll be fine. And how about YOU? Are you sure you don’t have anything else to do? Or you’re just ignoring them and trying to use (y/n) as an excuse?” 

Crowley let out a dramatic gasp and dropped you. “Oh, that is absurd! I would never do such a thing!” 

As the two adults began fighting, you pouted in pain from being dropped. You look to the side to see the magic broom lying on the bench. Curiosity grew to you, and you sneakily crawled your way into it. 

“I’m sorry, I cannot let you take care of (y/n) while you’re in charge of a class.” 

“In case you forgot, Trein and Crewel managed to watch them yesterday while lecturing.” 

“Well, that is because they are inside their classroom. It is more dangerous to bring (y/n) out here where they can get lost easily. What if they get hurt!?” 

“Mister Crowley! Uncle Vargas! Look! I’m flying!” 

“Yes yes, that is wonderful, dear- WAIT WHAT!?” 

The two halt their bickering and darted to their side to see you floating on the broom above their height. Panic washed through them. 

“(y/n), bean sprout, please get down from the broom. It’s too dangerous.” Vargas yelled. 

“But it looks fun! Everyone else is flying.” 

“I know kiddo. That is because they are experienced and were taught by me. How about you slowly get down here so I can teach you safely?” 

“I could but... I don’t know how to get down- WOAH!” 

The broom suddenly drove forward quickly and then stopped. It repeated once more but in reverse. The two men yelled your name as you zoomed upwards and towards the sky. 

“Shit,” cursed Vargas. “Dire! Do something, will you!?” 

“ME!? Why do I always have to do everything around here?” 

Vargas only gave Crowley a displeased look and silently growled.

😶

#twst x reader #twst imagine this #twst #twisted wonderland #disney twisted wonderland #disney twst #twst wonderland #twst mc #twst imagines #x reader #twst crewel #divus crewel #twisted wonderland crewel #twst crowley #crowley #twisted wonderland crowley #twst trein #mozus trein #twisted wonderland trein #twst vargas #ashton vargas #twisted wonderland vargas #twst sam #twisted wonderland sam #twisted wonderland x reader #twst child au

[julianalvarez9]

national kai day / kai havertz

summary: you're not very active on social media -at least, on your public profile. so, the post you dedicate to your boyfriend on every birthday of his, seems to turn the day into a national holiday for fans.

author's note: wanted to do sum for kai's birthday, sorry it's too late 😮‍💨 it's still his birthday where i am so happy birthday to himmm 🤍

yourusername

Liked by benchilwell, kaihavertz29 and others.

yourusername i'm not very much into public demonstrations of affection, you already know me well enough, and that's part of what makes you so special: you take me as i am. i love you liebling, happy birthday. you know who you are.

Comments are restricted under this post.

kaihavertz29 🤍

| ♥️ comment liked by yourusername.

jun 11, 2020.

yourusername

Liked by kaihavertz29, kepaarrizabalaga and others.

yourusername with every year that passes, i feel it's only right of me to share a bit of you to the world. the part they don't know about you, not the one they see every weekend on the pitch. still, words couldn't even begin to describe how special you are. i love you, k.

View all comments.

kepaarrizabalaga los adoro ❤️ (i adore you two)

| ♥️ comment liked by yourusername.

user1 i knowwww we don't know much about her but she seems so sweet 😭

user2 FRRRR and i had this idea of kai being like so serious but every year she posts something for his birthday it's always the cutest pics 😭

user3 grumpy x sunshine trope going so hard with these two

kaihavertz29 hate being far away today. i will make it up to you, schatz.

yourusername we'll see each other so soon. you don't have to do anything 🤍 the pups and i are gonna be happy just by seeing you again.

masonmount a man of many talents 🎹

kaihavertz29 thought you already knew me

jun 11, 2021.

yourusername

Liked by kaihavertz29, masonmount and others.

yourusername holding your hand forever. or until you get tired of me fiddling with your rings during the fancy events. i love you, k 🤍 happy birthday to the sweetest man on this planet.

View all comments.

user1 never seen kai smile that way before 🥹

user2 they're literally the cutest couple ever

masonmount he never holds my hand like that 🙁 happiest of birthdays to the man!

| ♥️ comment liked by yourusername.

benchilwell 😂

user3 this is what he meant when he said that he doesn't wear jewelry unless he's with his gf? stop that's so cute :(

jun 11, 2022.

yourusername

Liked by kaihavertz29, benchilwell and others.

yourusername kai, you amaze me every day. i've known you for so long i feel like our lives where always intertwined, somehow. will always cherish the possibility of waking up next to you every morning, but especially today, when i can wish the happiest of birthdays to the man i love.

View all comments.

benchilwell i love both of you so much 🤍

| ♥️ comment liked by yourusername and kaihavertz29.

user1 we went from "you know who you are" to tagging him 🥹

user2 also i think this is the first time she shows his full face 😭

kaihavertz29 waking up next to you is the biggest birthday gift. can't ask for anything more. i love you,

user3 she has such a way with words every year I shed a tear or two 🥲

user4 can't wait for the wedding vows it's gonna get emotional real fast 😭

jun 11, 2023.

#football imagine #football imagines #football instagram au #football x you #football x reader #kai havertz imagine #kai havertz x reader #kai havertz x you #kai havertz instagram au

[missmaywemeetagain]

Pink Scarf - PART 18.2 (Elvis/Austin!Elvis x Reader)

Character/Fandom: Elvis - Elvis (2022)

Requested: kinda

(Read more here--Pink Scarf Series Masterlist!)

Prompt: You are part of Elvis Presley's coveted inner circle, and the currently-disgruntled wife of one of the members of Elvis' famous entourage, the Memphis Mafia. After Elvis' dynamite first performance in Vegas, you find yourself in deep water when his magnetism finally gets to you after all these years.  [ Fem!Reader ]

TW: Sex. SO MUCH ANGST. Medication/drug use/overdose. Dub con (sort of?). References to medical trauma, miscarriage, infertility. Blood. Cussing. Infidelity. Historical inaccuracies in the Vegas timeline. Priscilla doesn't exist in this timeline.  

Rating: Explicit/Mature (NSFW, 18+, so minors Do NOT Interact)        ||     Word Count: 16.3k (LOLOLOLOLOL)

A/N: Y'ALL, I'M SO SORRY, it's a monstrosity. I couldn't help it. There was just so much to be said while still in E's POV, so that's how we ended up here, over 16k. But we finally learn Elvis' BIG SECRET and experience the mighty fallout from that in his eyes, so hopefully it's worth it. This is my Thanksgiving gift to all of you, but you may want to pace yourselves. I feel like I had to rip my heart out a little bit to really get in E's headspace. Prepare yourselves emotionally. That's all I will say.

A quick note about the pictures...the first is actually from when he bought Graceland in March 1957 and it just works PERFECTLY for the beginning. I couldn't resist the pics from Red West's wedding in 1961, even though I know the timeline and the people don't match but the VIBES, the VIBES my friends, are oh so Jack and Reader's wedding so I just had to include them. The one for 1960 was taken the night of the Rollerdome. *sob*

If you so desire, you should now have the ability to tip my blog or different chapters in the story! Some of you have been asking about this, and of course, no one is obligated to do so! If you do choose to tip, thank you so much! I've never had anyone want to pay for my work before, so this is a big step towards my romance novelist dreams. 💜

Speaking of Thanksgiving, I am so FREAKIN' GRATEFUL for every single one of you babies, honeys, and lil' mamas supporting me out there, YOU ARE EXTRAORDINARY which is always evident but especially so when someone tried to steal PS last week and y'all went 'ride or die' for me instantly, without question, getting it taken down in record time. I didn't in a million years expect this kind of support and response for Pink Scarf, and your reactions, reblogs, messages, asks, and comments you've given me have been a blessing beyond expression. You all are the best community a writer could ask for! Thank you so much for your support. I am loving getting to know y'all better! I love every single reaction and comment and ask, and I'm sorry if I don't get back to them all as soon as I'd like but know that I love you all and am so excited to be making new friends! And a big "Hey, Y'all!" to our friends from Elvis Twitter, Elvis Discord, and Elvis Instagram--I see and appreciate you coming over to join us! 👀💋

If you feel so moved, please let me know what you think or how you're feeling (or send me asks)! I think I put everyone on the taglist who requested it, but please let me know if there are any issues or if I missed anyone. There seem to be some issues with tagging that I can't seem to fix, so please know I'm not leaving you out intentionally! Also, if you comment on a previous part that you want to be tagged, I might not always see it, so feel free to message me if I miss you!

I imagined this with Elvis in mind, but Austin!Elvis works here, too, whatever floats your boat! 

Apologies in advance if there are any grammatical errors or TW that I didn't catch. 

(I did start cross-posting Pink Scarf to my AO3 account, as well as my NEW Wattpad account. so if you are so inclined, you can check it out/support me over there with kudos and votes and whatnot!)

(Elvis in March 1957, Graceland)

March 1957

Elvis parks in front of your house, his mind whirling with noise. He’s not exactly sure how he ended up here, but as soon as he’d gotten off that train, he knew he needed something that he couldn’t get from any of the guys or even his mama. So, he finds himself unexpectedly here.

Turning off the car, he seeks any sort of relief from the heartache he feels. He’s been holding it all in since the train stop in New Orleans, the one that sent the world crumbling under his feet, destroying the pretty picture he’d had for the future. But all that is gone now and here he sits, hands tapping on the steering wheel with nervous energy.

He nods to himself, finally leaping out of the car, and then he saunters down the walkway to the front door. The chime of the doorbell can be heard through the door, and he listens carefully, grateful to hear light footsteps from beyond.

When you open the door, it’s like he can breathe again for the first time since the train pulled away in New Orleans. You look surprised to see him, those big eyes of yours widening the slightest before you speak.

“Elvis, you’re home?” you ask with a hint of confusion, but overall, you seem pleased at finding him on your doorstep.

“Just got in, baby,” he says, that boyish smile curving up. He gathers you up into a big bear hug and instantly feels better as he breathes in the unique scent of your shampoo and lingering perfume. A scent that feels like home.

“And you came right here?” you ask, brow furrowing when he pulls away. He notices that you look a bit worn around the edges, darker circles rimming your eyes as if you haven’t been sleeping well.

You’re right to be confused. Of course, he hadn’t planned to see you right away. He’d planned to sweep June off her feet in New Orleans, wanting to show her Graceland immediately, the home he’d thought they’d share together for the rest of their lives. But all that had been dashed as soon as she’d blurted out that she was engaged to another man. Engaged. His June.

“I want to show ya something,” he blurts out instead of saying any of this. “It’s a surprise! Will ya come?” Oh, god, you have to come, he thinks. His heart might shatter if you don’t, though he’s not exactly sure why. You’re not his—you and Jack have been dating for nearly a year—so it’s not as though if you don’t come that it really means anything. Yet, still he hopes. He needs this. He needs to share this moment with someone he cares about.

Despite the fatigue in your eyes, you nod quickly, and then as if you can’t leave the house fast enough, you grab your purse and coat and shut the door behind you without a word.

He smiles gratefully, and relieved, he grabs your hand and practically skips to the car. Once he has you tucked in safely, he runs around the front of the Cadillac, jumps in, and peels away. It’s not too far of a drive, and he yammers on about the last few months he’s been away, the words flying out of him. You nod and ask all the right questions, but he notices that you are pensive, quieter than usual.

His verbal diarrhea halts for long enough for his brain to take into account that you don’t seem your usual self, and he asks, “Are you okay?”

You look down at your hands and then out the window, as if contemplating if and how much to share, which makes him a little nervous. Your fingers twist in your lap.

“Honestly? It’s been a hard few weeks, E,” you finally say, still unable to meet his eyes. “My nana passed last Tuesday.”

He’s mortified that he’d just been going on and on about himself and here you were dealing with such a loss. “Oh, darlin’, I’m so sorry. I-I didn’t know. I know how close you two were,” he says remorsefully, reaching his hand over to clasp one of yours.

You shake your head, sniffling back tears. “It’s okay, you’ve been away. There was no way for you to know. And I keep telling myself that she’s in a better place now, but that doesn’t really help all that much. I guess it still doesn’t seem real.”

He nods, because he can’t seem to think of anything to say that will make any of this better for you. “We can do this another time, baby, if you’re not feeling up to it,” he finally gets out.

“No, no. I need something to do instead of moping around the house. I’m worn from being sad and worrying about the rest of it. No, I’m glad you showed up, E. I can’t wait to see your surprise,” you add quickly, trying for a smile.

“The rest of it? What’re you so worried about, baby?” It’s obvious you don’t expect him to pick up on that because he sees the quick look of panic that flashes over your face at the question, so he’s quick to add, “I mean, you don’t hafta talk ‘bout it if ya don’t wanna, but I can tell somethin’ else is weighin’ on ya.”

“You could say that,” you sigh, raising your eyes to the roof and back down again. The twisting fingers are back. “God knows I haven’t been sleeping, and it’s giving me these terrible headaches.” You pinch the bridge of your nose for respite. “I…well, I’m not sure it’s a good idea to tell you, Elvis, because it’s about Jack, and I really don’t want him to think I’m running around telling everyone our business.”

A warning rush rolls over him at this because he suddenly and very desperately wants to know what has happened with Jack, and that is a dangerous game for all kinds of reasons, many of which he’s not ready to admit to himself.

“I swear and cross my heart I won’t say a word, if you wanna tell me,” he says instead, a little too eagerly, so he quickly adds, “If it’ll help ya feel better and all.”

He forces himself to watch the road and not you, but he can practically hear your mind whirring.

“Oh, fine, but not a word out of you to anyone, Elvis Presley, I mean it. I know how bad you are with secrets,” you glare at him.

“I promise, I promise!” he concedes, crossing his heart. “I swear on my mama!”

“Well, in the midst of all this with Nana, I found out that Jack was dating other women a while back while we were going together. Apparently, I thought we were exclusive, but he didn’t, and well…” you trail off bitterly.

Elvis has to bite his tongue and bite it hard because somehow this wasn’t what he expected, and oh, lord, he knows too much for comfort.

Thankfully, you take this as him listening intently, because you continue, “I know I shouldn’t be too mad at him. I suppose it’s an honest mistake, seeing as maybe we didn’t communicate clearly enough about where we stood with each other. But it was so obvious to me, and I don’t understand how it wasn’t obvious to him. It’s not like I was going around with other guys all the time! I know it was months ago, but damn if it doesn’t really sting. Part of me feels like such an idiot, you know? What else don’t I know about him and what he’s doing? It just makes it hard to trust him, even though he was truthful about it when I asked.” He can sense the conflict in you, as your voice fills and shakes with the emotion of your held-back tears.

His heart is beating fast now, and all he is seemingly able to do is nod furiously, as if agreeing vehemently with all you are saying. The problem is that Elvis is complicit in all this and you have no idea. You have no idea that he was the one who pushed the showgirls onto Jack when he came to visit him in Vegas in November. You have no idea that “dating” didn’t have much to do with it at all. And now he feels altogether shitty for being the one to put Jack in that position in the first place. He’d managed to spread his own unfaithfulness and debauchery right on over to Jack, and now you are the one paying for it.

Shit.

Although, knowing Jack, it’s also possible that there was other dating happening, too. Either way, Elvis knows he’s got to tread real careful here and needs to keep his trap shut.

But Elvis can’t stand that hurt look in your eyes when he dares to take his eyes off the road to glance at you. He hates how angry and sad you look, the blue-black circles under your eyes conveying your distress.

And his emotions feel complicated, too complicated for comfort. He suddenly wonders if he didn’t present Jack with those temptations on purpose because there is a very deep and selfish part of him that desperately wants you to kick Jack to the curb for this, and that terrible, selfish part of him wants you to finally see Elvis in the same way he sees you.

Maybe there’s a reason that things didn’t work out with June, that voice pokes at him hopefully.

Stop that shit right now.

All this is playing through his head and leaving him outwardly silent. He realizes he has to say something, anything, because you are waiting for him to do so.

“I-I’m sorry that happened, ‘specially finding out at the same time as all this with your Nana. W-What are you gonna do about Jack?” he says, trying not to gulp.

He watches your eyes narrow and then he quickly looks back at the road. He can feel you shift in your seat.

“I…well, right now, I wanna pummel his brains out, so I told him I need some space to figure out what I want to do. I just—I thought we…” you trail off dismally. “I don’t want to go through this again,” you add quietly.

Elvis knows you are talking about Ted. Stupid Teddy who stepped out and got Judy Cole knocked up and then left you brokenhearted in his wake. It still pisses him off, even though he knows he’s got no right to judge Ted, not now, not after all the foolin’ around he’s done.

But when it comes to you, he can’t help but be protective. It’s in his bones, the way he wants to take care of you. In fact, he wouldn’t mind punching Jack in the face right about now for hurting you like this. And he’s even more pissed at himself for his part in it all.

Elvis just wants you to be happy and to be with a man who deserves you, and deep down, he doesn’t know if that man is Jack, even though he loves Jack like a brother. But the real problem is he’s not sure if he thinks any man will ever be good enough for you.

But his brain is wary to dwell on the meaning of that, wanting to avoid anything else that feels uncomfortable, so instead, he lets the excitement of showing you his new home overshadow any other unwanted feelings he might be experiencing.

“Okay, baby, we’re almost there, so close your eyes,” he says excitedly, changing the subject abruptly, before pulling up the long drive.

“Alright, Elvis, this better be a big surprise with how hyped up you are,” you chuckle, letting the mood turn by doing as you are told.

“The biggest,” he breathes, sliding to a stop in front of the Colonial mansion. “Don’t open your eyes yet! I’ll come around!”

You wait until you hear the car door open and feel his hand take yours. He gently brings you out of the car to standing, an excited energy vibrating through him.

“Okay, darlin’, open!” he drawls dramatically.

You do, blinking out the early Spring sunlight. He watches your face light up as you take in the architecture.

“Oh my god, Elvis, it’s beautiful,” you say in awe. “Is it yours?”

“Yes, baby, it’ll be all mine very soon. And for Mama and Daddy, of course,” he adds hastily, as if you’d thought he’d abandon his parents.

“Of course,” you smile, looking at him with those pretty, though tired, eyes of yours. “Can we go inside?” you ask.

All he can do is nod excitedly. Elvis takes your hand, pulling you up the steps and past the huge white columns on either side. He can’t unlock the door fast enough, the keys rattling and shaking in his hands. Once inside, he pulls you through the house, mouth running a mile a minute about what he wants to do in each room, how he wants it to look.

Finally, you make it to the top level, the last room. “This is gonna be my bedroom,” he rambles on. “I’m gonna get the biggest bed you’ve ever seen in your life, made special.”

You gently pull your hand out of his, and he watches as you take a small pill bottle out of your purse and pop two of the pills before downing them dry. Aspirin, probably, for the headache you were talking about in the car.

“E, stop a minute,” you say. “This is all amazingly wonderful and beautiful, and I am so excited for you, but…well, what exactly am I doing here?” You look at him with curious and concerned eyes.

“I…uh…I…,” he stammers, unsure of what to say or how to say it, as it’s all been spinning inside for hours and hours. He looks away, unable to meet your eyes. He certainly doesn’t want to put any of his stuff onto you, not now, not after what you told him earlier. His hands fall to his sides, and he shakes them, wiggling his fingers like he does to come down after a show. It doesn’t help. There’s just too much emotion rolling through him all the sudden.

You step to him, first putting your hands on his shoulders, then you run them gently down his arms before grabbing his flailing hands, absorbing some of that wild energy. The feeling still manages to send little electric shocks through him, even after all this time. Only then does he finally still and dare to look at you.

“E, what’s wrong? You let me talk earlier, so why don’t you tell me what’s really going on?” you ask, your eyes searching his, open and concerned. He should’ve known you’d see right through him. Maybe that’s why you’re here, because he knew you’d understand, that you’d be able to tell he wasn’t okay when no one else cared to.

It takes a moment for him to gather his words as his emotions get in the way. Emotions he stoically hid from the guys the rest of the way to Memphis. Emotions he pushed down when he saw his mama because he just couldn’t bear to break her heart yet with the news. God, he’s spent so much time recently learning how to hide everything real about himself in order to become the man everyone wants him to be. But here, now, with you, it all begins to overflow.

“I-I-I told June to meet me in New Orleans. I-I w-w-was gonna bring her back here, to show her w-what I-I wanted to buy…for us,” he says, bouncing on his toes, tears welling and clouding his vision. He hates how it’s tearing him in two to say this.

You squeeze his hands, urging him to continue, and for you, he does.

“But when I-I got there, she was acting so strange. There w-wasn’t much time and, uh, she told me she’s engaged to someone else.” He blinks and the tears run over, finally spilling down his cheeks. Saying it out loud suddenly makes it feel all too real. His chest aches with betrayal, with loss.

You look at him with such care, though you do not look shocked at this news.

“Oh, I’m so sorry, E. I know you how much you loved her,” you say, squeezing his hands again gently.

‘Loved.’ As in past tense.

“Did you know?” he asks suddenly, stepping back, eyes narrowing suspiciously.

You take a conscious deep breath. “No, I didn’t. But she did call me a few times wondering where you were, if you were okay. She said she hadn’t heard from you in months…” you say awkwardly, petering off.

“Aw, shit,” he curses, running a hand through his greased hair. A wave of anger rolls through him, burning him from the inside, but as much as he wants to put it on June and her spiteful engagement, he knows the anger is mostly towards himself. He fucked up. He fucked around. And he’d expected June to just sit back and wait for him while he did it. He didn’t even make the time to call her.

And you know what he’s done. He can see it on your face. He looks down, unable to meet your eyes.

You don’t speak. You don’t lay into him or tell him he’s an asshole, although it might be better if you did. God knows he’s already thinking it. You just look at him with sadness and understanding and forgiveness, even though he doesn’t deserve it.

With that ache in his heart, he finally realizes that he couldn’t have loved June the way he said he did and then leave her hanging like that. But he did love her…at least, he had. They’d had such a beautiful summer together and he was sure he wanted to marry her, once his fame was settled. Three years, he’d told her.

Shit, I didn’t even make it six months, he thinks absently.

And then everything changed almost overnight. His fame exploded. There was Hollywood, then Vegas. And the girls, good god, there were so many beautiful girls who wanted him, needed him, who threw themselves at him. He’d been weak. He hated being alone. He couldn’t help it. It was just sex, he’d told himself, just a way to blow off steam as his world became smaller and smaller and nearly suffocated him. A thousand excuses run through his head, but in the end, it was his choice not to pick up the phone. It was his choice to screw around, to live this life.

It’s no wonder that June moved on, he thinks. I’m a first-rate asshole.

“Y/n, I messed it all up,” Elvis finally chokes out. The sob fully breaks the dam holding him together, the pressures of his fame and the realization hitting him like a truck: he is never going to be able to have that normal life with a wife and kids he’d once dreamed of. His knees buckle under the weight of all of it—his decisions, both good and bad, the fame he doesn’t know what to do with, the unexpected consequences of this privileged but isolating life he’s chosen.

He sinks to his knees, defeated, on the carpet of his future bedroom, the one he’ll probably never share with someone who loves him for who he truly is. Because he isn’t just Elvis Aron Presley anymore—he is “Elvis Presley,” the celebrity, the commodity, the fantasy.

While he relishes in the luxuries of it all, in being able to provide the life his family deserves, a small part of him cannot help but feel like he’s made a deal with the devil. That this talent he has been blessed with will also be the thing that damns him. He is overcome by the feeling that he’ll never know ever again if he is loved for who he really is, or if it is his fame and his image they love. And there is something about that that crushes his soul.

But he can’t say all this to you because it sounds dramatic and indulgent, and he knows there are very few people in this world who’d actually understand.  This is his cross to bear.

And yet you still comfort him. You are still here. “Oh, hon, I know. It’s okay, I know,” you say, kneeling down with him.

In the midst of all he’s achieved and gained these past few years, June is the representation of all that he stands to lose, all that he’s already lost. “She was my last chance, y/n. I’m never gonna be able to trust that a woman loves me for me and not for my fame after this. And I screwed it all up,” he says quietly, tears running freely. “I just feel so fucking alone.”

“Oh, that’s not true, Elvis, it’s not,” you say, pushing his hair out of his eyes. “You’ll find her, I know you will. And you have so many people who love you for just being you, not for the fancy cars or the mansion or the fame. You’ve got your family, you’ve got Jack and your true friends. And you’ve got me.”

The way you say it, so softly, yet so matter-of-fact hits him hard, so hard that his heart stops beating for a moment. If he wasn’t already kneeling, the honest way your tired yet beautiful eyes search his face might knock him right off his feet.

It’s you, it’s you, it’s always been you, he thinks suddenly. This is the feeling he was avoiding in the car. The feeling he’s been avoiding since he watched Jack kiss your cheek in the diner a year ago.

It takes his breath away. You take his breath away, you always have. He’s been enamored with you since you plowed into him all those years ago in the hallway at Humes High.

Suddenly, June is all but forgotten because you reach up, cupping his face in your cold little hands and wipe a tear off his cheek. He cannot help the way his eyelids flutter closed at the sensation of the pad of your thumb dragging softly across his face. His breathing, rapid from his cries is now labored for another reason entirely.

Opening his eyes slowly, he shouldn’t be shocked to see tears in yours, your grief and sorrow, not only for yourself, but for him, too, welling there, as if you are connected to him. In fact, Elvis feels like his brain is short-circuiting because you are too damn close and the tension in the room is suddenly so thick, he feels like he might suffocate.  

Every cell in his body feels on fire as you lean in closer and closer until your lips press against his forehead. You’ve never kissed him, not once in all these years, and this alone sends heat rushing through his young body. Then when you kiss his nose, and then one tear-stained cheek, he holds his breath, feeling like he might die from this chaste sensation.

Warning bells explode in his brain because suddenly he wants you more than anything in this world, always has. And now you are so close. This is Jack’s girl, he thinks, and she’s my dear friend. Don’t be an idiot.

But when you lean in to kiss his other cheek, you place your lips alarmingly close to his, his tears wet underneath your soft lips, and his body is on high alert as only a twenty-two-year-old’s could be. His heart flutters as you pull back just enough to look deeply into his eyes, tears shining in your own, and then you lean in once more.

This can’t be happening. This should not be happening, his mind screams, but then your lips are grazing his and all rational thought ceases to exist.

You taste so sweet.

Heat blooms through the ache in his chest, and in his disbelief, he freezes. Part of him wants to devour you whole, but he is terrified that if he moves, he might spook you and he cannot bear that.

His confusion is overridden when your hands, shaking but demanding, pull him closer. Your lips are soft and sure, and he cannot help but be swept away by them. He’s kissed so many girls, too many to count, all over the country, but not one has ever made him feel like this, like his heart is going to leap out of his damn chest.

But this is a betrayal of a monumental kind, for both of you. While he is no stranger to betrayal, he does not want this for you. As much as he wants you with every fiber of his being, he does not want to be the source of your regret or heartache. He’s already done enough in that regard already, though you don’t know it. Mustering up every ounce of his self-control, Elvis pulls out of your kiss.

“Y/n, baby, you don’t want this. I’m no good for you this way,” Elvis says in a hushed tone, his forehead resting against yours. “I-I can’t have you regretting me, I-I-I couldn’t bear it.”

You lean back the slightest bit, and he thinks you might be listening, reconsidering, making him feel mostly dismay but also a little relief. What he does not expect is for you to press your little pointer finger up against his lips, hushing him, as you stare into his eyes. It’s as though your soul is as weary and needy as his and it feels as though you see him, truly see him, which is a new feeling for him. This sends a welcoming shiver down his spine, and he knows that despite every scrap of logic and propriety he is trying to lean on, with you he is powerless.

When your finger drags down his lips, catching on the bottom one, it sends a bolt of pleasure straight to his groin. Yet still he resists (even though he wants more than anything to see where this is going), thinking you might realize your mistake, and this will all be over in an embarrassed, yet still salvageable, flash.

Instead, you very deliberately scoot closer, your knees bumping his on the carpet. You lean in again, your lips grazing his again with a yearning he cannot help but return in kind. It’s barely a kiss, but the intent is there and when you pull up, effectively opening your mouth to him, the way he can feel your warm breath mingling with his own has him struggling to control himself.

You are testing him, testing the waters, hesitant but somehow insistent at the same time. His long lashes flutter closed when your fingers brush his jaw then rake into his perfectly styled hair. But it’s when the tip of your tongue touches his, sending a hot shockwave through him, that he can stand it no longer and closes the gap between your mouths with a longing sigh.

Pressing his pliant lips to your yielding ones, he rolls his tongue softly but firmly against yours, earning him a quiet moan from you. This is like fuel on the fire, finally spurring him into action, and his hands fly to the back of your head, pulling you closer.

If there is one thing besides music that Elvis excels at and loves to do, it’s kissing. He plays with it the same way he plays a crowd, listening to you and adjusting his performance as necessary. The buzzy way it makes him feel, like every nerve is magnetic, is one of the only things in this world that is anything like how it feels for him to perform for an audience. He loves the way it makes him feel.

But kissing you is unlike anything Elvis has experienced before. It’s as though you are tuned to the exact same frequency, finding his rhythm immediately, adapting easily. The usual fumbling of people getting acquainted in this way does not seem to apply to the two of you, the ebb and flow so natural it’s as though you had done this with each other many times before.

But the passion of it stokes a fire that has been denied a long time. Intense heat crashes over him, sending tendrils of warmth through his limbs and deep into his belly. He drinks you in as deep as he can without being desperate, and oh how close he is to being desperate for you. His grief over June melts away the more he tastes you, and he wonders how he ever lived before having the taste of your lips on his.

It's all very dramatic and romantic, which he is both at heart. From just a few kisses, he suddenly knows that if he could kiss you and only you for the rest of his life, he would be a happy man indeed. This surprises him.

But what truly shocks him is when you lean so far into him that it pushes him over, his knees screaming a little, and he falls back into the wall with a thump. He scrambles backwards, maneuvering his long legs into a more comfortable seated position while you don’t even miss a beat or attempt to come up for air. And when you crawl into his lap, hoisting the flowing fabric of your dress up just enough so your warm, bare thighs are straddling his, his heart actually flies right out of his goddamned chest.

Speaking of which, you are currently running your hands down his, pulling his silky shirt up enough to dance your fingertips over his stomach. His breath hitches then hisses at that, his arms involuntarily encompassing you, large hands splaying across your back to draw you ever nearer.

And you go willingly, inching up his lap until you are straddling his hips. When you grind down into his lap, he thinks he might’ve died and gone to heaven, his blue eyes rolling back into his head with a low moan.

He'll admit he’s dreamed of this, fantasized about this, but nothing could truly prepare him for the reality of the way you are making him feel. A trickle of attraction that began six years ago is now a roaring river, and is so, so much more than anything he’s felt before with anyone else.

He doesn’t understand it. He loves women. He always falls in love too fast, enjoying the rapid descent into the madness of it all. There have only been a few that he feels were true, though every girl he’s with, he loves in his own way.

But you are not like any of them, not at all. With you, it has been slow, so gradual sometimes that he didn’t even realize it. A teenage crush turned into friendship, and within that has blossomed a love that he didn’t know he was capable of. It is not until this very instant that he realizes it truly for what it has become. He doesn’t just care for you. He loves you.

He is in love with you.

Fuck.

Realizing this as your hips begin to rock steadily over his crotch is not the best timing. He’s as hard as a rock, fighting both the swell of his physical need for you while wrestling with the emotional needs he’s quickly realizing at the same time.

If he didn’t love you, he might not care if this is just a quick fuck between friends, but he does care. And he’s worried about where this is coming from, likely your overall grief and your anger at Jack. No, he doesn’t like the messiness of that at all.

But another grind of your pelvis into his, coupled with your tongue down his throat has the physical quickly taking over any and all rational thought. He wants you, more than he’s ever wanted anyone. And he desperately wants to give you what you need, which based on the mewls escaping your lips, is a physical release, a connection.

God, he can feel the wet heat of your cunt now through your panties and his pants as you slide over his length, back and forth, again and again. He clings to you as your hands wind through his hair, burying his head in your neck, his lips taking in as much of your skin as he can. He revels in the scent of you, your perfume and your irresistible musk that is permeating the room. He is positively dizzy with it.

You are frantic in his lap now, chasing something he’s not entirely sure you’ve ever had. He knows about Ted, but he highly doubts Ted knew what to do with you. And with Jack, well, he’s not sure how far the two of you have gone, but he can only guess based on Jack’s recent actions and your desperation for no one to know that Ted had popped your cherry that you’ve been trying to be good and pure and wait.

But as you reach for his belt, pawing at him, for the first time in this whole event, he gets the distinct impression that you’re not sure what to do next, only that you are needy for something. And goddamn him, he is willing to give you what you need, but only if you really understand what it is you’re asking for.

“Wait, baby, just…wait,” Elvis pants, stilling your hips with one hand while grabbing the hand at his belt with the other. You whimper a little at the interruption, rolling your hips for emphasis, but despite the groan he can’t help, he’s having none of that.

“Baby, I need to know that you really want this,” he says, brushing your hair off your deliciously pink cheeks, your lips swollen from his kisses. He looks into your eyes, almost getting lost in them and forgetting what he set out to do. “You’re absolutely sure?”

“Yes,” you whisper, and then add, “Elvis, please,” in a begging tone that sets him completely aflame.

“Oh, damn, okay, baby, okay,” he breathes, barely able to contain himself with that. He’s only human, after all. He races to help you with his pants, pulling them over his hips and down his legs in record time, his erection springing free, precum already glistening the tip. You lift up on your knees, you move your panties aside, and touching the silky soft skin of his cock, you help him line up with your entrance. He can’t help but gasp at the feeling of your cool little fingers circling his shaft, losing it a little more when he feels how incredibly soaked you already are.

He can’t believe this is happening. It shouldn’t be happening. But all logic is gone from him, replaced by the sweetness of your mouth and the wetness of your pussy and his desperate need for whatever love you have to give him.

He watches as you bite your lip in concentration, your fingers digging into his shoulders as you try to take him in. You are incredibly tight around the sensitive tip of his cock, and he moans a little at the constriction. That’s when he knows for sure that no one else has touched you like this for a long time. You aren’t ready for him, not yet.

Reaching under your skirt, he deftly finds the delicate little bundle of nerves there and begins to work it ever so gently. He shifts his hips down, his cock regretfully released from your hold on it. Sliding his fingers through your folds (oh, god), he gently slips one finger into your tight heat, then two, allowing you to adjust around him before pumping them in and out. Your eyes go wide and you gasp with the intrusion, but then they flutter closed with a sigh, and then another, and another before your hips begin to rock again.

He watches you in your ecstasy, taking in every delectable reaction he can and committing it to memory. The way your brow scrunches and your mouth falls open into a little O. The feel of your thighs clenching around his hand as he massages and fingers your dripping pussy. Those alluring little breathy moans escaping your lips. Every part of you has him completely mesmerized and he knows it. He knows his mouth is agape and he is moaning softly right along with you. He is so aroused just by watching you, he feels like he could come without you even touching him.

“E, I need more…I need you,” you breathe with your eyes closed and brow concentrated, and oh sweet lord, those might be the best words in the English language with the way they come out of your mouth.

He is utterly unable to deny you this. He can’t even speak, he just pulls his fingers out of you, lifts your hips, and maneuvers his cock back to the place it wants to be most. And you are more ready for him now, your tightness yielding much more easily around the sensitive tip of him.

It’s in that moment, as you sink down ever-so-slowly onto him and he is enveloped by your wet heat, that Elvis realizes he is utterly ruined for any other woman, ever. They cannot and will not ever hold a candle to you. He should’ve known before. He should’ve stopped this while he still could. But as you finally settle in his lap, taking him in completely, your fingers relaxing and your eyes bright and glassy, he knows he is well and truly fucked in every way.

He kisses you deeply again and again, memorizing your mouth, as you begin to raise and lower yourself on his cock. You feel so good, so completely perfect, it’s as if you were made just for him. He is drunk on you, hands wandering your body, finding what makes you keen, and he’s unable to get enough of you.

But you are so needy and ready that unfortunately it doesn’t take very long of you riding him and him playing with your clit for you to begin falling apart at the seams. Based on your surprised gasps, he’s not sure you’ve ever come before, so he does his best to help you get there while holding on to his own release for dear life. You begin to shudder around him, clenching his length, and with a strangled moan you hit your peak. It’s the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen, the way you are coming undone on top of him, around him, your eyelashes fluttering closed and then popping open, all wild-eyed and rosy cheeked as the hushed sound of his name falls out of your perfect mouth.

He's so fucking enraptured that his orgasm hits harder and faster than expected, chasing yours almost immediately, not giving him time to pull out like he should have. But he can’t bring himself to care because it’s all you. All he’s ever wanted or needed—it’s you.

Oh, sweet Christ, I love you, I love you, I love you, he chants in his mind as he follows you over the edge.

He clings to you, head pressed into your breasts as he pulses hard into your warmth with a grunt, then stays there as he comes down from the high. And then you are both gasping in the silence, and there is an air of disbelief that fills the room that the two of you just did that, together.

This is making love, he realizes suddenly. It must be, considering the incredibly overwhelming feelings he has for you that are pouring through him in unreasonable amounts. He never wants to let you go, not ever.

He pulls back enough to kiss you tenderly, lingering a little too long. There is a sinking, nearly unbearable feeling that this may never happen again, and it threatens to break him, so he pushes it as far away as it will go.

You press your forehead to his, silent, you still enveloping him as he eventually begins to soften inside you. Neither of you rushes to move. He cannot read what you are thinking and that makes him nervous.

“Are you okay?” he finally whispers, his thumb grazing your cheek.

You nod but say nothing.

“Okay, baby.”

You both sit there a while, simmering in what you have done, and he wishes you would say something, say anything at all to let him know what is going on in that head of yours. But you are quiet, unreadable.

Finally, you remove yourself from his lap and stumble your way into the ensuite bathroom to clean up.

Elvis runs a hand down his face, wiping away the mixture of salty tears and sweat that has collected there. He uses his handkerchief to wipe himself off and then puts himself back together. Blissed out in his refraction, he is so full of love for you that he almost can’t stand it. He thought he’d known love before, and perhaps he did, but this realization of love for you is so big that he doesn’t know what to do with it. God, he feels like with you by his side, he could conquer the damn world.

But you’re not his girl.

Fuck. Shit. Fucking shit.

His head falls back onto the wall with a thump.

Somehow, he’s both on top of the world and completely buried by it at the same time. You interrupt his thoughts, coming back in quietly and falling, exhausted, into his arms. He takes off his coat and puts it on top of you both. He can’t help but pull you closer, up into his lap, so your head rests against his chest. This is where you are supposed to be, he can’t help but think.

He knows the two of you need to talk about this. While he has been having his epiphany, he has absolutely no idea what you are thinking. He has no clue if you feel anything even close to what he feels for you. It is possible that all of this was just some sort of revenge on Jack, and that breaks his heart a little. And even if you did do it for that reason, you chose him. You felt safe enough with him to choose him.

But something deep inside him tells him it isn’t just that, not with the way you kissed him, not with the way he felt like his damn soul was connecting with yours. That deep connection he’s always felt to you, it can’t possibly be one-way.

But what if it is? a worried little voice creeps in.

He wants to ask you, but he looks down and sees you passed out on his chest. Fatigue begins to hit him, as he hasn’t slept in over a day.

It’s not long before he, too, falls into an exhausted slumber.

*

He’s not sure how long you sleep, but when he wakes, the sun has moved and the room is nearly dark. Disoriented, it takes a moment for him to realize that it’s you in his arms, and when he remembers why, his cheeks flame with heat.

Oh. Oh.

Drowsy, he rubs his eyes with one hand, trying to wake up. As the memories of your lovemaking resurface, his heart beats faster, and he knows the moment you wake you will both have to face what you’ve done. You’ll have to decide what comes next. And more than anything, the hopeful little voice inside him realizes that he wants to share this all with you—that’s why it is you he brought to Graceland today, and why it was so important to him that you like it.

“Y/n, honey, wake up,” he says quietly, not wanting to shock you awake, but you don’t even stir. He shifts under you, hoping that might get you moving, but you just lie there.

“Hey, baby, it’s time to wake up,” he says at full voice now, but you remain still, too still, and silent.

His heart starts to pound. Something isn’t right.

“Y/n! Honey, I need you to wake up!” He is getting frantic now, his hand gently tapping your face, which feels too cold. But still, you do not wake.

“Fuck. Fuck! Y/n, wake up!” He shakes you. Panic and confusion roll over him as he tries to figure out why you are knocked out. His sleep-addled brain runs through what happened before you both fell asleep, before you made love.

Her headache, he thinks. She took pills for her headache.

He had thought they were aspirin, but as he frantically rummages through her purse, pulling out the little prescription bottle, he reads “Percodan, one tablet every 6 hours for pain and sleep relief” on the label.

Elvis swears you took two tablets, not one, way too much for a girl your size. You hadn’t read the bottle.

Shit.

Having been in Hollywood, he knows that this happens. People overdose from taking these narcotics, usually to get high, but he knows that you did it on accident. Based on how full the bottle is, he’s guessing that you maybe hadn’t even taken the meds before today.

Regardless, he’s not taking any chances with you. There’s no phone hooked up at the house, so with his adrenaline now working overtime, he lifts your unconscious form and quickly carries you to the car. He peals out, driving to Baptist Memorial Hospital as fast as he possibly can.

The those few hours are some of the most terrifying of his life.

He bites every nail down to the quick in that waiting room, pacing there as your family sits, equally worried. He can’t help but feel that they are judging him for letting this happen, even though it was an accident.

He can’t bring himself to call Jack.

Guilt eats away at him, even though he knows he had no idea about the pills, but if he hadn’t fallen asleep, maybe he would’ve realized sooner that something was wrong. Part of him feels like this is punishment for his sins, for what he let happen in the house. He prays and prays to God, harder than he’s ever prayed before.

Please, God, I love her. I can’t lose her. Do what you want to me, just let her be okay.

His prayers work.

You wake up. The doctors say you are going to make a full recovery. His heart nearly explodes with relief.

He offers to stay while your family goes home to get some rest. It is past visiting hours, but being Memphis’ own superstar, the nurses take pity on him and let him stay, as long as he doesn’t keep you awake.

When you finally stir, it’s the middle of the night.

“E—Elvis?” you croak. “What happened? Where am I?”

He sits up straight and leans forward to take your cold little hand in his. “Y/n! Oh, baby, you took too many of your headache pills and I couldn’t wake you up. You scared the hell outta me. You’re in the hospital, but you’re gonna be okay,” he whispers, squeezing your hand.

“Wake me up? Why—why was I asleep?” your brow furrows in confusion.

His heart drops into his stomach, dread like ice in his veins. He doesn’t want to ask, but he knows he must:

“What’s the last thing you remember, honey?”

Obviously still groggy, you close your eyes for a moment to think. “Um, I remember you picked me up and took me to…to your new house,” you say, then your eyes pop open, “You were showing me your beautiful new house, and then my headache got really bad, so I took some of my pills, and then…” You stop, looking at him blankly. “And after that, I don’t remember. You said I fell asleep?”

Oh, God, no. No, no, no. He feels like he’s going to vomit.

The force of his dread hits him like a tsunami as he runs through what happened in his head again. You took the pills first and then he told you about June and then you kissed him.

But you don’t remember. You don’t remember because you were accidentally fucking high.

“Elvis, are you okay? You look like you’ve seen a ghost,” you say.

“Sorry, baby, I-I-I was just really worried about you, is all. I-I guess it’s all kinda hittin’ me at o-once, now that you’re o-o-okay,” he says, unable to keep his voice from shaking, unable to keep from stuttering through the half-truth.

“Please, go get some rest, E. I’ll be fine. I’m so tired, I feel like I could sleep for days…” you say, drowsily, eyes fluttering closed.

“Okay, okay, baby, I will…Get some rest,” he says, kissing you on the top of your head as you drift back into slumber.

In a panicked daze, he manages to make it down the hallway and to the men’s room before his stomach rolls and he is violently sick into the toilet.

Oh, sweet Lord, he took advantage of you. You were drugged and didn’t know what you were doing, and he had sex with you.

He vomits again, tears running down his face.

I didn’t know, I didn’t know, I wouldn’t have ever let it happen if I’d known! I would never hurt her! the reasonable part of his brain cries out.

Shame eats at him from deep inside, cutting him. He deserves it.

How could he do this? How could he let this happen?

I should’ve known. I should’ve known the moment she kissed me that she wasn’t in her right mind.

But he didn’t, and what the hell does that say about him? He’s fucking selfish and he took something from you that you weren’t in your right mind to give.

He dry heaves, wanting desperately to expel his regret but knowing that he never will, not until the day he dies.

And what’s even worse is that he is still left with the fact that he is desperately in love with you. You don’t remember what, up until a few minutes ago, was one of the most amazing moments of his young life. You can’t share that with him. And that makes him feel even more selfish because the last thing he should be thinking of is his own damn feelings.

Sitting there on the cold floor, he tries to convince himself it’s for the best. It’s much less complicated for you this way. For you, there was no betrayal. For you, making love with him can never be a mistake you once made in a moment of anger and desperation. For you, there is only the love of friendship between you two.

Yes, it’s better this way, he thinks. He can carry the burden for both of you. He deserves to.

Because he knows he cannot give you what you need. He cannot be there for you, day in and day out, holding you tight and keeping you safe. Especially not now. Not after what he’s done.

He has to lock this away. You can never know, not ever. He must protect you from this and from his guilt. He knows you wouldn’t be able to look at him if you knew.

Oh, God. Please forgive me.

He can’t stop crying. He has to stop crying because he has to go out there and he has to look fine. He has to be fine, for your sake. You’re alive and going to be okay, and it’s that which he latches onto as a mantra in order to slide into the persona that has made his name.  

He manages to make it to the car without losing it again, as the dawn starts to break on another day. He can’t bring himself to go home; he can’t look his mother in the eye right now. So, he drives aimlessly, for hours, his sins eating away at him until he finds himself at the church.

He waits for Reverend Hamill in a pew, his thoughts dark and churning. This is just the straw that broke him, for he knows that since his fame began two years ago, he has fallen so very far. He has been self-centered and vain. He has fornicated and broken hearts and caused pain to those he claimed to love, all in the name of this new life of his. And he’s pushed his friends to do the same. His stupid, selfish actions have had a ripple effect that has completely ruined lives.

Not only had he driven June away and into the arms of another man, he’d played with your life and Jack’s as well. If he hadn’t pushed Jack to cheat, you would never have needed those pills in the first place. You almost died because he didn’t want to be alone in his debauchery, and he knows that some sick part of him pushed Jack to it because he wanted to sabotage your relationship.

Then he realizes that, on top of all that, he did another incredibly selfish and stupid thing. He came inside you, which means that you could be pregnant. And that would ruin you completely, and you wouldn’t even know why, you wouldn’t understand. He would do the right thing, of course, and maybe, someday, you would learn to forgive him, but it would ruin you all in the process.

Oh, Lord. Oh, Jesus.

He thinks he might vomit again.

When the Reverend emerges, he looks surprised to find Elvis sitting there.

“Pastor, I am the most miserable man you’ve ever seen. I am doing the things you taught me not to, and I’m not doing the things you said I should,” he sobs, “Please, please pray for me.”

“Oh, son…come in,” Reverend Hamill says.

Deflated, consumed, and heavy with his guilt and the repercussions of his actions, he follows the pastor into his office. He can’t bring himself to admit what he’s done, to admit how horrible he is. He just cannot get the words out. Instead, he weeps and prays, over and over, the Reverend praying with him.

All he can whimper out is, “Please, please forgive me for my sins. Please.” He’s not sure if he’s asking the minister or God or both. He only knows he cannot live with himself for hurting you, even if you don’t know it.

After over an hour of this, by the grace of God, he finally calms some. His entire body and soul aches.

But he knows what he has to do now. He understands the deal he has made.

It doesn’t matter what he wants or needs. You being okay is all that matters. He has to make sure you’re taken care of. He has to make sure that you are happy.

In the days and weeks and months that follow, Elvis pretends he is having the time of his life, becoming every bit the budding superstar that the country insists that he is now. Sometimes, he even believes it; sometimes, he even forgets. Though every time he sees you, his heart breaks a little more, his love for you permeating him to the core.

But he knows he can’t have you. He knows he doesn’t deserve you.

Instead, he plants seeds in Jack’s ear. “You love her, don’t ya, Jacky Boy? When are ya gonna make an honest woman of her?” He pushes Jack to fully commit to you. He even goes with Jack to buy the ring, though he stops himself from paying for it. Jack has his pride, after all.

Instead, he throws himself into work, grateful for the grueling cycle of touring and recording and appearances and acting. He throws himself into fixing up Graceland for his family, building a life of extravagance that he never could’ve dreamed of.

And, God help him, he starts seeing other girls. He leans into the image of the playboy they all want him to be. He dates and he fucks, thinking that maybe, just maybe, one of these girls will make him forget the perfect way you fit into him, forget the way your face looked when you came undone around him. That maybe one of them will come close to the wonder that is you. That they will help him forget his past sins by cutting new ones. He cannot seem to help but do the sinful things he swore he wouldn’t do, lest he drown in his sorrows, but the girls help keep him from the one thing that is off limits: You.

When Jack finally pops the question in the summer, and you accept immediately, he can barely keep himself together. He convinces himself this is the right thing, that he is happy for the both of you as he stares into the night sky knowing deep in his soul that it should be him. He reminds himself that this is the deal, this is what he wanted, to see you happy and taken care of.

And he will damn himself for your salvation every time.

December 28th, 1957, Graceland

Oh, God, what have I done?

The moment you appear down the aisle, looking ever the most beautiful, blushing bride, every part of him aches with love for you. He’d thought that by giving you the life you dreamed of, the life you needed, that it would be enough to let you go. But as Elvis stands by Jack’s side at the altar, he realizes that no matter what has happened, no matter what he has done, he is always going to love you and it’s never not going to hurt, especially not after this.

Not after the quick look you shoot him as you step up to meet Jack, your pretty, wide eyes full of excitement and emotion. Not after seeing you all in white and wishing to God that it was him marrying you right now. Not after he keeps his peace after the minister asks if there’s a reason these two should not be married.

He somehow manages to keep himself from openly weeping during the ceremony by biting the inside of his cheek repeatedly but still finds himself caught in your radiance more than once and must force himself to look away. During the wedding pictures, he cannot help but maneuver himself close to you to press a lingering kiss to your cheek, to be memorialized for all time on film. The press of his soft lips into your warm cheek sends that tell-tale shiver through him, one that drives in the fact that he still loves you. He gives himself this tiny thing, and no one questions it because they all know you are close friends, and a congratulatory cheek kiss on your wedding day is not strange.

Discretely, he makes sure to let the photographer know he wants copies of the pictures, with the excuse that he is paying for them and wants to make sure they are perfect. This, too, is not questioned, as if it is the most normal thing in the world.

To torture himself even more, he offers Graceland up for the reception. These are his two best friends, after all, now cleaved together in holy matrimony for the rest of their lives. No expense should be spared because they deserve all the happiness in the world.

And they do, he reminds himself throughout the day. They do deserve all the happiness in the world.

At least if you are with Jack, he thinks, he still has you in his life. He can still see those beautiful, wide eyes whenever he wants without question or suspicion.

He clings to this.

Even so, he feels as though he is being sucked into a riptide. It seems fated that his life is going in a much different direction than the newlyweds. The draft notice he received a week ago confirms this, weighing heavy on his heart and feeing like a nail in the coffin of his hopes and dreams.

God is testing him, he thinks. It is all a very clear and stark reminder that where he goes, you cannot follow. He cannot help but feel that God is punishing him for his sins by taking him away from the fame he has just settled into to, taking him from the people he loves and the things he loves to do. He wants to lament that it isn’t fair, but part of him knows that he deserves this, too, for what he’s done and for what he’s done to you.

And perhaps God works in mysterious ways, as while he is loathe to leave his parents and his career and his fans, he cannot help the small part of him that is relieved he doesn’t have to watch you and Jack in your newlywedded bliss for the next two years. It’s the only upshot to this entire disaster.

But he won’t let his sorrow overshadow your big day. With a smile plastered on his face, he gives a charming and loving speech of how wonderful it is to see his two best friends find such happiness with each other. He only stutters once or twice, which comes across as endearing rather than damning. But the thing is, even though he is miserable, he is still happy for you two. He wants more than anything for you to have everything you’ve ever wanted and more, and if that is with Jack, then so be it.

The only time he truly falters is during the dance.

Your little sister (who at 18 is not so little anymore), Rosie, as the Maid of Honor, dances with Jack, while he, the Best Man, dances with you. The moment he touches you, sparks fly through him and down his spine, and he cannot help but pull you in a little too close, even though everyone is looking. His large hand wraps around your smaller one and the other clings to your waist.

The thing is, you do not react to this at all, not outwardly, anyway. You let him hold you and press his cheek against your temple. You let him breathe in your scent and lean into you, as if memorizing everything about you. You let his hands contract, pulling you in closer. You let him lead because it’s like somehow you know, in your soul, that he needs this, even if you’re not exactly sure why.

And for that he is grateful. He is grateful as he takes in every bit of you, committing you to memory, knowing that soon that is all he will have of you. All you will be is a memory, imprinted on his heart, for the rest of time.

When the song comes to an end, he leans back slowly, his eyes searching your face for any recognition, any understanding of his plight, any feelings of your own that might linger in your subconscious. You stare back at him openly for a moment, and for a second he thinks he sees a glimmer of something in your eyes, but then Jack is pulling you away and the moment is gone.

As the party continues into the night, he feels like he is suffocating and escapes upstairs to his room. And as people know not to enter his bedroom without express permission, he feels safe to let out the shaking sob he’s been holding back for hours.

He’s not sure how long he cries before a tap at the door startles him into motion, frantically wiping at his face.

“Bewbie, sweet boy, can I come in? It’s just me,” his mama’s voice echoes through the door.

“Yeah, Mama, come in,” he croaks out, wiping his nose on the back of his hand. While he is relieved that it’s her and not one of the guys, or God forbid, you, he still doesn’t know how he’s going to explain the state he’s in.

His mama comes in quietly, shutting the door quickly behind her. She looks him over and in one fell swoop seems to understand, even though he’s said nothing, even though he’s spent months perfecting his nonchalantness for the world, what is going on.

But a mother knows.

His mama sits next to him on the edge of the bed, putting her arm comfortingly around his broad shoulders. “Oh, my wittle baby, it’s her, isn’t it? Our beautiful y/n. You love her,” she says, less of a question and more stating a fact.

That does him in, the way his secret is exposed so easily by his mama. It terrifies him that she knows him so well, and terrifies him that if she knows this, what else does she know? There’s no point in denying anything, so he curls into her like a child and lets go of it all, the tears streaming once again down his cheeks as his body shakes with quiet sobs.

His mama has always loved you, taking quickly to your genial ways and how you always made time to spend with her. Maybe she suspected something from the start, he doesn’t know, but she doesn’t judge or scold him now.

“H-hurts so bad, Satnin,” he hiccups out. And it does, now that he’s letting it. It feels like his heart is being ripped from his chest.

“I know, baby, I know,” she coos, rubbing his back. He can sense all the questions she wants to ask but doesn’t.

“I-I-I couldn’t…I-I ain’t w-w-what she needs or wants, Mama,” he stutters out. It’s as close as he’s willing to get to telling her the truth.

“It takes a brave man to let the girl he loves marry another, when he knows that’s what she wants, though I can’t say I wish it didn’t work out the other way,” his mama tuts.

“Y-you knew?”

“Course I knew, Bewbie. A mother always knows. To be fair, I been watchin’ the way ya look at that girl for the past few years and it didn’t take much t’put it all together, baby,” she says. “But the question is, does she know?”

He stills and stays silent for a moment, before answering truthfully, “I don’t know, Mama. I don’t think so.”

“Hmm,” she tuts, “I’m gonna trust you had good reason for lettin’ that wonderful girl go without tellin’ her how ya feel?”

His heart constricts, causing him to doubt his choices, but he can’t explain how he nearly killed you with his terrible decisions. He certainly can’t tell his mama that he made love to you when you weren’t yourself, no matter that it was you came on to him. And he knows his mama would balk if he told her how much he doesn’t deserve your love because of his sins.

“It’s better this way, Mama,” he says quietly, sitting up and staring at his hands. “And she’s happy, both she and Jack.”

His mama nods, resigned. “Alright, my sweet baby, puttin’ your friends’ happiness before your own…I know ya made the choice ya thought was best,” she says, wiping his face and pinching his cheeks, “but ya get yourself cleaned up now ‘n go be at least a ‘lil happy for your friends, okay?” She leaves the obvious unsaid—that he’s leaving to film in a few days and straight from there, it’ll be into the Army, so this will be one of the last times he can spend with them.

He nods. “O-okay, Satnin.”

And with that, he does as he’s told.

*

And then, in a blink of an eye, she’s gone. His mama is gone and his world fully collapses and it’s all his fault.

You are the only one who saves him from being completely swallowed in the blackness of his despair, and he’s not in his right mind to think or care how that looks. All he knows is you’re there when he needs you the most. You’re there to get him through the absolute worst of it before they send him a world away, and then, he loses you, too.

He loses everything that means anything to him—his mama, you, his career—and he wonders how long God will continue to punish him for his misdeeds, until he can’t bring himself to care much anymore about anything at all.

Germany feels like a cold fog that clouds his brain, even when he brings his Daddy and Dodger and Red over to live with him off base. In his haze, he writes Anita promises he wishes he could keep but deep down knows he won’t. Then, he turns around and does all the things he shouldn’t do because he can and what does it even matter if it’s all lost anyway? He takes the pills they give him to keep him awake in the field, and those make him feel pretty good, for a time anyway, and then he starts taking other pills they give him to bring him down after. In his off time, he screws and tries to forget the life he used to know.

And in those horrible quiet hours when he lies awake, trying to sleep when even the pills won’t let him, trying to escape and can’t, he thinks of you. He thinks of his love for you and your hold over him even now, a world away, and when he’s extra lonely, he imagines you on top of him, writhing and beautiful. And when he comes undone, there’s nothing left but a gaping hole in his heart and a mess in his hand.

*

March 1960

Elvis bites his nails to the quick on the long journey home. It’s not just because of the planes and the exhaustion and not knowing if he’ll ever get back to being “Elvis Presley,” but he knows he’ll be seeing you in a matter of hours. Not years or months or weeks, but hours.

And he thinks that maybe he is finally over you, that maybe he’s healed enough from everything and that he’s on his way to start something new, something fresh.

But, God, somehow you are more beautiful now than before, but you act so strange around him, and his heart wants to leap and implode all at once. Somehow everything has changed…but you, you still own his heart.

Once he discovers your pregnancy, he is over the moon for you because he can sense how badly you want this. He doesn’t care that the baby is Jack’s—he loves it more than anything because he loves you and seeing you so happy brings him true joy for the first time in a long, long time.

His career is taking off again, his new image impressing those who denounced him a few years ago, and he already has appearances and recordings and films lined up to go. Life feels…almost good, like maybe he’s finally paid his karmic debt.

Then you almost bleed to death in his arms.

His terrified confession of love is spoken in an act of desperation, a singular hope that if you know he loves you, you won’t be able to go, that the string of fate that draws you both together cannot be broken, that he can somehow will you back to life with the power of his love.

He begs God, begs as he’s never begged before, an inner wail of blood-soaked prayer that does not cease as he rides with your near-lifeless form to the hospital, nor when he calls Jack and your parents, nor as paces the waiting room.

Singularly focused on his pleas to God, he doesn’t even realize he’s covered in your blood until Charlie and Jerry arrive shortly after the ambulance and look at him in shock.

“Jesus, EP,” Charlie gasps quietly, taking in the macabre scene, “We need to get you changed and cleaned up before Jack gets here.”

That’s when he looks down and sees your life’s blood staining his pants, his shirt, his arms, his hands. God, it’s even under my nails, he thinks as he watches his hands shake, feeling utterly disconnected from his body.

He’s frozen, unable to move, repeating his prayers again and again, until Charlie whisks him away and has to physically help him strip down and wash the blood from his body in the bathroom. As he watches the pink-tinged water swirl down the drain, he cannot bear the thought that maybe it’s the last thing he has of you, these stains, and that maybe he’s truly lost you.

He just got you back. He can’t lose you. He won’t.

No, his inner mantra of prayer doesn’t cease until he is absolutely sure you are going to be okay.

Though “okay” is relative, he learns quickly. You have a long recovery ahead of you, the surgeons say, wiping their sweating brows, and the next few days will be crucial. The baby is gone, and the doctors say that more tests need to be done once you are well to see if that is even an option in the future.

He is heartbroken for you, and for Jack. But you are alive. You are alive.

Lamar and Red have to physically drag him from the hospital in the morning to get him ready and put him on the train to Florida for Frank Sinatra’s special, which is the very last thing he wants to do. But it is absolutely pivotal in his career comeback, so he tells Rosie in no uncertain terms that she is to keep him posted about her sister and any developments.

As he showers and packs, exhaustion seeping into his bones, it suddenly hits him that he told you he loved you, and it’s likely there will be fallout from that. It makes him incredibly worried, and he is even more loathe to leave until he knows where he stands with you. It’s possible you won’t even want to see him again.

Or it’s possible she loves you, too, a little voice hopes. But he knows better than to feed that monster. You don’t love him, not like that, and it’s selfish of him to even consider at a time like this.

“It’ll take your mind off things, EP,” Jerry tries to convince him, seeing his trepidation, prodding him along to get on the train. “And it’ll give y/n and Jack and her family time to get situated.”

The message is clear. Elvis is not in the inner circle of your life, not anymore, not as he wants to be. This fact is both sobering and cutting at the same time. It reminds him yet again that where he goes, you cannot follow, and where you go, he is not always welcome or needed.

He nods solemnly, thinking he finally understands, yet again, the terms of his deal with God. You live and he keeps his distance, he keeps his sins from tainting you. You live and he lets you go.

He pops a couple of pills, brought over from Germany, to wake him up, to get him in the performing mindset, to rev him up to being THE Elvis Presley. “Anything she needs, anything at all, comes to me,” he tells Jerry, “Hospital bills, recovery costs…and I want the best doctors helping her figure out her pregnancy issues. Oh, and send flowers, every day.”

Jerry nods, eyes observant and keen. “Of course, EP. Anything for y/n and Jack.”

Yes, anything for you.

*

You don’t remember a thing from that night, he learns from Rosie, and most of him thinks it’s for the best. But a small, egotistical part of him thinks bitterly that you certainly have a knack for forgetting anything monumental that happens between the two of you.

But he is busy. So busy, in fact, that he barely has time to think of you at all after that.

Except half the songs he chooses for his comeback album have something to do with you, which he only consciously realizes when he steps up to the mic to sing. And just as he thought of you the night of the talent show, he thinks of you now, singing about the girl of his best friend and how it feels so right being with you. He pours his hopes and dreams and frustrations and sorrows right into that album.

Perhaps it will cleanse him of needing you. Perhaps it’ll help him let you go.

When you find out that children are likely not in the cards for you and Jack, he sends more flowers, every day for a week. Jack is devastated and practically begs to come out to Hollywood to escape the sadness, so he agrees.

Anything for his friend, right?

He takes care of you from afar. He takes care of everything. Anything you could possibly want or need is yours. But he keeps his distance.

That is the bargain.

He falters at Christmas, almost letting his grief and yours ruin everything. He swears that you feel something for him, that maybe your impulse to be with him was not entirely driven by the drugs all those years ago. That maybe you do somehow remember his confession. Part of him swears if he had let it happen, you would’ve been his once again.

But you are not his, you never really were.

And while he knows this on a logical level, the more he is away, the more he fills his days with mindless movie making and wooing his costars and taking pills that bring him up and more that pull him down, the more he lets himself imagine you are his. From a distance, he can take care of you. From a distance and in the deep recesses of his mind, you belong to him and him alone.

“Elvis Presley” becomes a household name, now with a clean-cut image, alluring to both housewives and teenagers alike. His fame and wealth grow, and so does his isolation and loneliness. So does the need for the pills and to bring the rest of the guys into it all with him. Even Jack.

Especially Jack.

But he doesn’t like to think about why that is.

He manages to destroy his relationship with Anita along the way. He loved her, in his way, he really did. But she was not you. Neither is Ann, though he thinks for a moment that she may be the answer to his prayers, but in the end, he screws that up, too.

As the years drag on, he thinks he finally understands why he sabotages every relationship he’s ever had—it’s you—none of them are YOU. So he flits from fling to fling without ever truly landing because all he really wants is your love. But he doesn’t deserve it, he never has.

He knows this as he watches Jack descend into alcohol and drugs and women, and a small, horrible part of him wants Jack to self-destruct, and even though he knows this hurts you, he is too selfish to stop it. And the guilt of this, coupled with the downturn in his career, pushes him to self-destruct, too.

Still, he keeps his distance. When he’s home, he tries not to shoot you too many lingering glances. He reins himself in, most of the time, but in moments of weakness, he allows himself to get too close. He catches you alone, he makes a pass. But because you are you, you always rebuke him with a laugh. Silly Elvis, ever the jokester.

But sometimes, in the dark of night, in your beautiful, wide eyes, he sees something else. That deeper connection that drew you together in the first place, mixed with a heat he has only seen once or twice. And it is that which keeps his hope alive.

In an attempt to bury it and fill the hole in his heart, he almost marries, but in the end, he can’t go through with it. He’s wildly unhappy and dissatisfied, and it’s not until he finally gains some control over his career again that things take a turn for the better. He finally starts to clean up his act. He seeks knowledge and spiritual clarity. He finally finds his passion for music and performing again after nearly a decade.

But it’s too late for Jack. He managed to drag Jack to hell and while he made it back, Jack has not. And you are miserable because of it. This breaks his heart.

He tried to give you everything you wanted and needed by stepping back to let Jack do so. He kept his distance. He did what he’d promised God, and yet life still destroyed your dreams.

Jack no longer makes you happy. Jack is no longer the man who can give you what you need.

And suddenly Elvis wonders if he was wrong all along. That perhaps he wasn’t the man you needed then, but he is now. Perhaps his sins have been forgiven. Perhaps the more he pushes you away, the worse things become for both of you because you are indeed supposed to be together.

You are his. You’ve always been his.

So, riding high from his first Vegas performance, he finally allows himself to pursue you. He pushes away a decade and a half of guilt and shame and lets his charm and confidence entice you. He lets the sparks fly between you, finally free after all this time, and more intense than ever. To his gleeful surprise, you accept him willingly, if not a bit hesitantly.

Maybe it is just sex, he thinks at first, this carnal need he has for you, but he knows better. As soon as he tastes you after all these years, he knows he can never let you go again. As soon as he coaxes, then watches you come undone again and again, he realizes that still, after all this time, this is it for him. You are it. You always have been. And he will do anything to keep you, to make sure you know that you are his.

He thinks you might remember it all after that first night, but you don’t, not right away. He senses your fear to let go, to let yourself have him, to have this affair. He knows you want this to be only sex. And maybe it is for you, at first.

But he will have you. He doesn’t care how many mountains he must move or what he has to do to convince you to stay, but he loves you more than anything in the world and he’s not willing to part with you, not anymore.

It’s true that his fame, wealth, and influence have spoiled him into always getting what he desires. Of course, what he truly desires always has been you. Now unlocked, his love and want and need for you is insatiable, and he will do anything to keep it that way.

Anything for you. Anything but letting you go.

*

As the blackout of his rage starts to dissipate and he comes to, he assumes that his friends are holding him back from quite literally killing the disheveled and beaten man who used to be his best friend, and he watches with deep satisfaction as you slap the shit out of your husband.

He also feels the immense guilt of letting it get this far, of not knowing just how bad Jack was to you, and his part in all of it.

But when you vomit and promptly fall to an unconscious heap on the ground, his fear is what overshadows his rage and guilt. Something is wrong, he knows it.

Not again, not again, not again.

Triggered by your history, Elvis, with untold strength, wrenches himself from the four men holding him down and clamors to your side, everyone else forgotten.

Pulling your limp body into his lap, he screams for someone to call the doctor. His heart pounds so hard he thinks he might need one, too.

Please God, please God, please God. Not now, not after all we’ve been through.

That deep-seeded, old shame creeps back in as he rocks you: This is your fault. Your selfishness did this. You destroyed Jack, he took it out on her, and you’ve put her at risk, yet again. You are a scourge on this woman you claim to love so much. A pestilence.

He’s getting lost in this fearful despair, and then Jerry’s voice in his ear snaps him back: “EP. EP! You have to let her go, man. The doctor is here.” Jerry pulls his arms off her as the doctor examines her.

Elvis’ fingers go straight to his mouth, his obsessive habit of biting his nails taking over as he watches the doctor carefully.

The doctor looks up, taking in the scene. He looks at Elvis, then at Jack bleeding against the wall, and purses his lips. “Will somebody tell me what happened to this young lady?”

“There was an incident…” Jerry begins diplomatically.

“Her husband slammed his fist into her face!” Sandy yells over him, furious, earning scathing looks from the entourage. They knew better than to give details, knowing to keep things close to the chest and avoid any legal issues, to protect him at all costs.

“Sandy!” Jerry admonishes her.

“No, it’s okay, Jer,” Elvis says firmly, waving him off. “I’m sure the doctor knows to be discreet.”

The doctor looks up at his hovering, intimidating form, and says nothing for a moment. “I know this isn’t what you want to hear, but I need to get her to a hospital and stabilized as soon as possible. She needs x-rays. It’s likely she has a serious concussion, Mr. Presley.”

The men start to argue, knowing that as soon as she leaves this room, a whole host of problems could fall down on them, but that’s the last thing he cares about right now. All that matters is you.

Elvis holds up his hand and everyone goes silent. “Do what you need to do, Doc. Anything she needs.”

The doctor nods and asks that someone phone for an ambulance.

Elvis looks up and sees that the men cleared the room at some point, leaving only the major players. Jack still sits, leaning on the wall next to Red, his face battered and bloody, watching the doctor. Elvis can’t tell if Jack is sorry or not. Elvis walks towards Jack, his anger tempered only by his concern for you.

“EP!” Jerry says in a warning tone, signaling for the men to flank him.

“I’m fine,” he commands, crouching at Jack’s side.

Jack flinches.

“Are you proud of yourself, Jacky Boy? Are you satisfied, seeing her laid out on the ground like that? Is this what you wanted?” he hisses.

Jack says nothing. He sees the tears in Jack’s eyes, the regret through the pain, and for a second, Elvis almost sees the man he used to know in there.

“Hmm,” he tuts, looking over his friend with disgust, shaking his head. “I’ll deal with you later. And you, too,” he says, with a low, deadly calm, pointedly to Red. Then he rises easily from the floor, his attention on the men with the stretcher who just entered the suite.

“It’s never enough with you, EP, you selfish motherfucker. The man who gets everything he wants, no matter how many lives he has to destroy to get it. The rules never apply to you, do they? Dammit, you coulda had anyone, anyone! Why did it have to be y/n?” Jack spits out mournfully from behind him.

Shame snakes through him, through the anger that continues to boil under just the surface, covering the sorrow that flows under that. There is truth in Jack’s words, he knows that, even though he wants to deny it.

“How long, Elvis?”

He supposes he owes Jack that much, though he doesn’t even turn his head.

“Opening night.”

“No, you bastard. How long have you been in love with my wife?”

The room goes silent yet again.

Elvis turns around, but he cannot bring himself to look Jack in the eyes for a moment. A lifetime of memories flashes through his head, of times much better than this, of times when they had each other’s backs. Ultimately, he knows what Jack has become is partially his fault. Ultimately, he knows it was wrong of him to want you when you weren’t his, wrong to have sex with you, even before the debacle of you and the pills. It was wrong of him to manipulate Jack into marrying you.

As much as he hates Jack right now, he once loved him, and still, he betrayed him.

Jack chuckles darkly, “That fucking long, huh?”

Elvis finally looks Jack in the eyes but says nothing. Nothing he can say will make any of this less of a fiasco. Nothing he can say with make it right, no matter how much he wants to jump in to defend himself, to tell Jack he saw you first, to tell him he wanted you first, to fucking explain that you’re his goddamn soulmate and he’s had to watch you be with someone else for almost two fucking decades.

“Ahhh, and she didn’t even know, did she?” A hint of a smile plays on Jack’s bloodied lips. “Didn’t even give the King the time of day! Well, at least I got that goin’ for me,” he laughs.  

His brow furrows as he fumes, and he steps towards Jack again. Lamar puts himself between the two men.

“It’s fine, Lamar, let him at me. What do I have to lose now anyways?” Jack laughs, which turn suddenly to sobs, “You were my brother. I gave up my life for you! I loved you, man!”

The words cut Elvis to the bone, flooding his fury with more guilt.

“And I love her,” Jack sobs.

“You don’t fucking love her,” Elvis says, infuriated, pushing past Lamar to grab Jack’s chin, wrenching his head to look at you being put on the stretcher. “You hurt her. You been hurtin’ her. And Jack, if she dies, I don’t care what brotherly love was between you and me—I will fucking kill you,” he says, low and vehement in Jack’s ear, for only him to hear.

He pulls back to stare Jack in the eye, to let him know just how serious he is, to make sure he understands that through the pain and the alcohol and whatever pills he might be on.

Jack blinks through his tears and nods his head once, shakily.

Elvis releases him.

Then he steps in behind you, still unconscious, on the stretcher as they take you out of the penthouse and to the elevator.

“EP, I really don’t think it’s a good idea to…” Charlie starts, hustling behind him.

He turns, seeing the stares of the men who have given him their lives to stand by his side. Some of them are befuddled, some understanding and resigned, some even a little suspicious after tonight’s events.

“I don’t give two shits if it’s a good idea or not, I’m goin’ with her. Anyone wanna argue with me about it?” he says impatiently, shooting up an eyebrow.

No one does.

It’s good it’s the middle of the night, otherwise he would’ve caused a huge scene at the hospital. But the nurses and doctors seem to gather by his demeanor that now is not the time for autographs. Instead of putting them in the waiting room, they set up an empty room at the end of the hall for the lot of them, a gruff old nurse warning them they best be quiet and not wake any of the patients before she closes the door on them.

And for the third time in his life, he waits to know your fate.

He waits for you, just as he’s been waiting for you for the last 18 years.

He waits and he prays, though this time, he makes no bargains with God.

He stills when the doctor finally comes to tell him that, yes, you do have a concussion and though you will likely experience symptoms as you recover, you should recover fully. He feels like the weight of the world has been lifted from his shoulders.

When the doctor leads him and him alone back to your room, the doctor mentions the other symptoms you’ll likely experience and that you might have issues with your memory leading up to the event. Elvis cannot help but chuckle at that.

“Oh, I’m betting she will,” he says under his breath, though this time, he thinks it might be best after what you went through tonight.

He sits by your side in the quiet, dimmed room, and is taken aback by the angry bruising already spreading over your beautiful face. His fury at Jack swells through him once more, followed immediately by sadness. You look so innocent and fragile lying there. Suddenly, he feels afraid to touch you, as though you might break.

So, he waits. He waits for you to wake and he prays. He thinks of the lifetime he’s had without you and the life he wants with you going forward. And this time, he knows he won’t be leaving your side for anyone or anything.

But his secrets still lay heavy and dark on his heart. There are those things he cannot tell you of that day at Graceland so long ago, and the things he still cannot bring himself to admit to, like his confession of love as you almost died in his arms and his meddling in your life. He doesn’t want to tell you how all of it has led to you lying here in this hospital, hurt and fragile but somehow still his, he hopes.

He doesn’t know what he’s going to do about it yet, so for now he just waits for you to come back to him.

He’s been too rough with you, he thinks, in his quest to show you how you are his. Pushing you too hard to keep up with his rockstar lifestyle and his insatiable need for you sexually has not been good for you. You’re exhausted, not eating, and have been on an emotional rollercoaster for days, and he was too consumed by his own selfishness to listen, so much so that he almost drove you away. The hurt, the feeling of pure panic that shot through him when you said you were leaving was enough to bring him to his knees, but of course, he could not tell you that. He couldn’t show you that weakness. Instead, he’d covered it with anger and passion, fucking you into submission.

He realizes his dominance, while fun in the bedroom, is perhaps masking his true feelings. He has told you in so many words how desperate he is for you, how he wants you to be with him, to let him take care of you, how he is yours, that he needs you. But in truth, he is afraid. Afraid that you don’t and never will feel the same towards him as he does towards you. That it is only his coercion, manipulation, and his sexual prowess that keeps you here with him. No matter how much you say you are his and that you will stay as he fucks it out of you, he’s not convinced that you’ll feel the same in the light of day, of your own accord.

Lord, the way you said you needed him tonight flashed him right back to that first time with you at Graceland. The time you don’t remember. He is putty in your hands now, just as he was then. But that need of yours was only sexual. If it is truly just sex for you and you are only staying for that…well, that scares him and makes him want to hold onto you so tightly that you can’t leave even if you wanted to.

If you don’t ever feel that same pull inside your heart, in your soul, that he has for you, he’s not sure what he will do.

Gone is the bravado and confidence gleaned from years of being Elvis Presley. Instead, he sits here at your bedside feeling stripped to his core: a nervous, stuttering boy with a funny name who loves you more than life itself. He is that boy who picked your books up off the ground, the one who you calmed backstage with your sweetness and wit. For you and you alone, he is just Elvis. And he’s worried he won’t recover if you don’t ever grow to love him.

Anxiety courses through him, a throbbing pulse that serves to remind him that for all he has and is in this world, he is still only a man. And you are the girl who has comforted him through some of his worst moments, yet now after all this time he’s still terrified to let you truly see him. If he lets you in, you will see him for all that he is and all the terrible parts of himself he’s ashamed of: his selfishness and possessiveness, his overindulgence, his obsessive tendencies, his goddamned vanity and ego. His secrets. If you know the things he’s kept from you, he’s not sure you’ll ever forgive him. Certainly, you could not love him.

His heart aches at that thought, flooding him with despair. He needs you so badly that he cannot bear to risk showing you everything; however, a deep part of him wants to flay himself bare to you, to expose himself in a way that he has never done before, not with anyone.

Elvis puts his head on the bed near your hand. He is going to be gentler with you, especially after tonight. He will prove to you that he is worthy of your love, that this is so much more than just sex. He’s going to take care of you and give you the life you’ve always deserved.

God has humbled him once again tonight, and he knows he must do better.

He loves you so deeply he can hardly breathe.

So, he waits. He prays.

And he hopes that one day, you will love him, too.

*

Taglist:

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@fic-over-cannon @lacyluver @littlebitofgreen @paigevis 

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

#Pink Scarf Part 18.2 #Pink Scarf #elvis #elvis presley #elvis presley x reader #elvis x reader #if you're looking for trouble #you came to the right place #austin!elvis presley x reader #austin!elvis x reader #elvis x y/n #elvis presley imagine #elvis presely smut #elvis smut #elvis x you #austin elvis x reader #austin elvis imagine #austin butler elvis #austin butler #elvis 2022 #elvis movie #austin!elvis smut #austin!elvis x y/n #austin!elvis imagine #elvis fic #elvis fanfic #austin!elvis fic #elvis presley fic

[shinjisdone]

Ticking Springs

(A Yandere Pinocchio X fem!Reader fic from Lies of P)

Pɑɾt 1; Sluɱbeɾ

capitolo uno

capitolo due

capitolo tre

capitolo quattro: is here

capitolo cinque

capitolo sei

capitolo sette

Capitolo otto

Capitolo nove

Capitolo dieci

Pɑɾt 2; Awɑƙeƞiƞƍ

It was a privilege to share the same blood as Giuseppe Geppetto. To be his family, his niece and take part in the marvelous worlds of puppets. The privilege to learn from him as his apprentice. The privilege to care for the things he cares for and to have the things he cares for, care deeply for you.

Tag List:

@greeknerd007 , @mitsureigen , @kame11a , @thirdblogsacharm , @sarah22447 , @blueberryhitosh1 , @written1nthest4rs , @huicitawrites

TW in general: Yandere behaviour, creepy and still puppet, dubious intentions and relationship, still in WIP more warnings may occure in time, also I am running out of pictures of P he looks the same in every pic (but prettily so)

[Also, I am gonna be like that and mention that I would not mind any comments or reblogs! This series is definitely gonna have short chapters and is currently building up settings but there's gonna be good ol yandere Pinocchio tailing after you like a puppy afterwards, no worries!]

There was a spot of slobber on your collar.

You tried to make yourself presentable as fast as possible as you ran down the stairs. The table you had fallen asleep onto was left in its messy state as you woke up.

There in the kitchen was Geppetto, cleaning his plate. He briefly turned to you. "Good morning," He began slowly before paying his attention back to the flowing water.

Your eyes darted to the table with bread and an omelette on a lone plate, alongside a water jar. Quickly, you took your seat. "Good morning, Uncle." Your attempt at sounding casual failed but he did not turn back to you. Ceasing your stare, you picked up your fork and began to eat. Clearing your throat, you remembered to thank your uncle.

"Early birds get the early worms and not cold meals." Geppetto replied as he finally made eye contact with you. "Sleep in your bed next time and not on the work table." With a full mouth, you nodded.

"Sorry about that, Uncle, there was just...this one discrepancy I had to fix." "Did you now?" Geppetto dried his hands and rose a brow. Again, you nodded eagerly. "Yes, yes, about the butlers! Come, I'll show you! You'll have to leave soon, won't you?"

Brown eyes stared at your figure, bright eyes staring back at him and the corners of your full mouth dotted with crumbs. He sighed and shook his head, making his way to the hallway and gesturing you to follow.

Chugging down a glass of water, you hurried after. Cold egg tasted truly awful.

Hoisting one up on its feet, you tinkered a bit on its back. The sound of a button was heard and the puppet soon stood on its own. It's arm attempted to rese to its side in an 90° degree angle, thought stuttering and twitching on its way up. It stopped abruptly before the elbow could fully bend and its head did not fully turn to Geppetto.

"Good morning, sir!" The voice flew out of its speakers, "How may I serve you today?"

You eyed Geppetto with an swift and expectant smile. The latter briefly glanced at you with raised eyebrows. Then, he opened his mouth.

"I would like a glass of wine."

"Red wine or white wine?"

"White wine."

"Why, of course!"

Springs were clearly reacting and its head shook for a moment. The puppet replaced its vigorous tone with a soft one.

"My apologies, sir, I am afraid the workshop does not store any white wine at the moment. Shall I have a package ordered for you? In the meantime, I can serve red wine, dessert wine, beer, coffee, tea..."

Once again, you turned to the man with an even wider smile as the options kept spewing out of ithe puppet's speakers. Geppetto turned to you with a smaller one of his own.

"Very impressive." He kept nodding his head, perking his brows, "I still am not too fond of the all-nighter and would prefer if it was kept as a one-timer." A short chuckle escaped him and he turned back into the kitchen. You followed him as the puppet kept on speaking.

"Of course, Uncle." You nodded yourself, "This one just kept me up at night. I was so close to fixing the voice box." "And you've done well." Gloved hands easily fished out another coffee cup from the cupboard. The ceramic resounded softly in the open room as he reached for the milk.

"...black tea, chai, earl grey tea, green tea..."

"Thank you." Lips quirking up, you bowed your head briefly, hands behind your back. "I can go fix up the other butler brother, too. I mean, I believe I can, right?" One step closer and you practically leaned on your toes with wide, expectant eyes. You did hope your uncle wouldn't interpret your eagerness as impatience - even if it partly was.

"... cappuccino, latte macchiato, espresso, espresso mokka, espresso macchiato, cortado..."

With another glance, Geppetto shook his head even as his own lips quirked up. He closed the cupboard. "If you have already fixed his voice box, you might as well make his brother talk. But my goodness..." A snicker escaped the old man as he gestured with his hands full, "...make him stop his gabbling! He is too invested in his work!"

You laughed yourself. "Will do so, Uncle!"

Again, he pointed to the second, dead-still puppet on the table. "Hopefully his brother does not turn up to be such a chatterbox!"

You forced a chuckle. There is only so much that you could bear of Uncle's awful jesting.

"If it prattles as much as the other one..."

"...apple juice, orange juice, grape juice, cocoa, water..."

"...does that not mean I have become an expert at fixing up voice boxes?"

Geppetto utters an humph and bites his tongue. You are truly still young. His brown eyes gazed at the still-empty cup in his hand and he called out from the kitchen.

"If you manage to fully fix his motions as well and have him make me coffee, I might bestow you such a title, dear!"

#lies of p #lies of p x reader #lies of p pinocchio #pinocchio #yandere #yandere lies of p #yandere pinocchio #ticking springs