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tokkiwrites · 7 months

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ㅡㅡㅡ in which Javier Peña has a not so big strong man crush on the new intern.

TW: kind of fluff, age gap (not mentioned tho), pet names, use of Spanish , kind of forbidden love idk, javier is a slut ( barely mentioned in the story just wanted to put it out there) but also hes down BAD for reader, unprotected p in v sex (dont be silly, wrap your willy), afab reader, oh yeah use of y/n and reader is kind of thiiqueee idk what else so lmk if i missed anything!!!!

Javier had been standing outside for a while now, his gaze focused on the dry, concrete pavement in front of the Embassy. He took a drag of his marlboro cigarette and exhaled after a few moments, silently watching as the cloud of smoke wafted away.

The DEA Agent took a glance up at the night sky and the flickering streetlamps that had been due for maintenance years ago. The sound of footsteps snapped him out of his daze, and he then turned his head.

"buenas noches, señor peña!"

it was y/n, the newly arrived intern: a bubbly girl that was way too excited when anyone mentioned criminals, with a smile that made even the sun wanna take a closer look.

“buenas noches, querida.” The Texan rasped, his eyes taking note of her outfit. god, what a dress.

"long day, huh?" she asks before reaching her hand out and offering Javier a cup filled to the brim with warm coffee. "i know it's late, but coffee is always good." she smiles intently.

He smiled back, nodding his head in thanks, before accepting the coffee cup in his hands. "thank you, and yes, very long day indeed. this fucking heat isn't helping at all." Javier chuckles as he takes a long sip from the cup.

"i was gonna finish my coffee then head home, my feet are killing me..." she groans. "also this dress is horrible...forgot to wear some shorts under it and now my thighs feel like you could fry something on them."

Javier raised an eyebrow, and looked down at her thighs, his curiosity piqued. smiling in the corner of his mouth, y/n's eyes met his. He then looked down once again for a moment, before chuckling ever so slightly.

"Does that matter when you look so good, hermosa?"

y/n lets out a soft giggle, cheeks turning a pale shade of red, before she slaps his shoulder playfully. "you say that to everyone, señor Peña"

Javier chuckled, his deep voice rumbling softly as he took another sip of the coffee. "Only to those who deserve it," he replied with a mischievous glint in his eyes. y/n's blush deepened, and she couldn't help but smile at his response. "Well, I'm flattered..."

As they stood there under the flickering streetlamp, sharing a moment of casual banter amidst the night's shadows, Javier couldn't deny that the unexpected company of the bubbly intern had lightened the weight of the long, tiring day.

He appreciated her energy and enthusiasm, which contrasted the often grim and serious nature of his work.

it's what made him more excited to come to work for the past few months. and buy new clothes...and cologne. Javier will never admit it was for her, though.

"Listen," Javier began, taking a more serious tone, "I know you're new here, and this job can be tougher than it looks. But I've got a good feeling about you, y/n. You've got that spark, and that's something we could use around here."

y/n's s eyes widened in surprise and gratitude. "Thank you, señor Peña. I really appreciate that. I promise to give it my all." she nods. " all though...a certain someone who i will not name told me to never ever trust your praises as they're just means to get into someone's pants.." y/n laughed.

"you're too smart for that, muñeca."

Javier smirked, amused by her response. "Well, I can't say I haven't heard those rumors about me before," he admitted, taking another thoughtful drag of his cigarette. "But, let me assure you, my compliments are genuine when they need to be."

y/n's smile was contagious, and she couldn't help but chuckle. "I'll take your word for it."

As they continued to chat and sip their coffee, the night air began to cool, providing some much-needed relief from the scorching heat. Their camaraderie, lighthearted yet sincere, made the hours they spent outside the embassy more bearable.

it's been a while since Javier last felt this way with someone. He hated to admit it, but it was true.

Javier couldn't help but reflect on how long it had been since he'd experienced a genuine connection like this. The life of a DEA agent often led to solitude and secrecy, and trust was a rare and treasured commodity in his line of work.

With y/n, though, he sensed a different kind of trust budding. It wasn't just about the job; it was about the shared moments, the laughter.

Javier found himself appreciating the small, subtle details about y/n. The way her hair fell onto her shoulders, as if it were a cascade of silk, had a certain charm that was hard to ignore. He couldn't help but notice how her rosy cheeks seemed to light up every time he complimented her, and it warmed his heart to see her smile so genuinely.

And in that quiet corner of the world, under the watchful gaze of the night sky and the flickering streetlamps, Javier couldn't deny the fact that he enjoyed these stolen moments with y/n.

godㅡㅡ he doesn't know if he wants to fuck her or rip his heart out, cover it in glitter and give it to her, for fuck's sake.

his thoughts are stopped dead in their tracks as y/n's voice fills his ears again. "i should head home now... what about you? still got work or are you ready to head home? maybe we can walk together!"

"still have some work, querida, but..." he trails off "are you really in a hurry to get home?"

y/n hesitated for a moment, torn between her desire to spend more time with Javier and the exhaustion of a long day. "Well, I'd love to stay, but I have an early morning tomorrow, and I should get some rest."

Javier nodded in understanding, taking a final drag from his cigarette before extinguishing it on the pavement. "I understand, hermosa. You go ahead and get some rest. Don't want you falling asleep during those early meetings."

"so...you're not gonna walk me home?" she sounds kind of disappointed.

shit. she's so cute. someone slap this man. He's supposed to be an untouchable god that every woman wants. yet here he is, almost drooling over y/n.

Javier's expression softened at her disappointment, and he couldn't help but chuckle at her pouting. "Alright, alright, I suppose I can spare a few more minutes. It's not every day I get to walk a beautiful young lady home," he said with a wink.

y/n's face lit up, and she grinned. "You really know how to make a girl's night, señor."

walking together through the dimly lit streets, Javier couldn't deny the way he felt toward y/n. She was indeed beautiful, and her playful banter made him forget about the weight of his responsibilities, if only for a little while.

as they made their way to y/n's house, the wind hummed through the trees, soft creaks from some nearby swings in a park swirling alongside it. the night seemed to embrace them

it was beautiful. she was beautiful. fucking hell man, come on, get it together.

"we almost there, muñeca? you live pretty far away. how do you manage?"

"I've got thigns that motivate me to manage it."

"things?"

"yeah...stuff, you know? like work...people."

She laughed, and they continued walking together, their conversation ranging from the challenges of their work to the mundane details of their lives. The more they talked, the more Javier found himself drawn to her spirit and charm ㅡㅡ if that possible.

As they finally reached her doorstep, y/n turned to face him, a hint of reluctance in her eyes. "Well...we're here." she reaches for the doorknob before hastily turning back to face Javier. "do you want to maybe...come inside and ㅡㅡ maybe talk?"

was he really asking him this? impossible. this is a dream. that's how all of his dreams start. and they end with her under him.

"Iㅡ" he hesitatingly tries to reply "it's fine if you dont wanna! don't even know why i asked you, it's weird, sorryㅡ"

"No, querida, wait. I do." he sighs "I do want to come inside. That's the problem."

y/n's eyes widened with surprise at his response, her cheeks flushing with a mix of nervousness and excitement. She stammered, "Oh, uh... can't believe it.. Well, come on in, then!" Her hand shook slightly as she opened the door and gestured for him to follow.

Javier couldn't believe his luck. This unexpected turn of events left him both exhilarated and cautiousㅡㅡ if his boss finds out about this they're both better off as dead. As they stepped into her cozy living room, the air seemed charged with a palpable tension, a delicate balance between temptation and anticipation.

They settled on her couch, sitting close but not too close. y/n nervously played with a strand of her hair, her gaze occasionally meeting his, their eyes locking in a silent, electric exchange.

"y/n, I need to be honest," Javier finally spoke, his voice lower and more intense. "I'm not used to this kind of situation. I'm usually a lot more careful. 's why I try to only get with people who, you know..." he trails off, motioning his hands in the air.

y/n nodded, understanding the weight of their profession and the risks involved when it comes to, well, being amorous. "I get it. It's just... I don't know. There's something about you that's... I feel so silly saying this, god."

Javier leaned in closer, his gaze unwavering. "Tell me, y/n"

Their faces drew nearer, the magnetic pull between them impossible to ignore. It was a gamble, a moment of vulnerability neither of them were used to, but they were both willing to see where this unexpected night would lead.

She swallowed hard, the tension between them growing "I really like you and i know you probably find me stupid and a klutz and also I'm young so what do I knowㅡ"

"Woah, querida. Slow down."

Javier placed a finger gently on y/n's lips, silencing her thoughts. "First of all, you're not stupid or a klutz, and age has nothing to do with how you feel, hermosa. And, believe me, you're not alone in those feelings."

y/n's eyes searched his for a sign, a confirmation that he felt the same way. She couldn't help but feel her heart racing in anticipation.

With a soft, reassuring smile, Javier continued, "I've been doing this job for a long time, and I've met a lot of people. But there's something about you.." he looks down at her lips "can I?"

"y-esㅡ"

Their lips found each other in a passionate kiss, igniting a fire between them that felt deeper and more genuine than anything they had experienced before. Javier's hands roamed up y/n's body, pulling her closer to him as the kiss became increasingly intense.

When they finally pulled away, they were left panting, their eyes locked in an electrifying gaze. "fuck, querida," Javier whispered, his voice husky with desire. "do you know how long I've waited for this?"

y/n's breathless response came in a soft, sultry whisper, "not as long as I have.."

javier's lips crash onto y/n's neck, sucking small spots, the skin blooming red as they hastily start to undress each other.

"gonna let me take care of you, muñeca?"

"pleaseㅡ"

fuck, she sounds so desperate.

"i know, hermosa. Mira, déjame cuidarte esta noche."

Javier's fingers dance onto her skin, trailing up to where her bra clasp was. in one swift motion he relieves y/n, letting her breasts fall down into one of his palms.

inching closer, he starts to trace kisses down her neck to her cleavage, nipping slightly at the sensitive skin between her chest. " so beautiful. "

his mustache lightly tickling her as he prepped small kisses all over her, javier pushes y/n onto her back and pulls her hips closer to his by her ankles, drawing a soft whine from the latter. "patience, muñeca. can you wait just a little more for me, huh?"

"y-yesㅡ"

"good girl."

he finally pulls off her panties, tossing them to the side as he spreads y/n's cunt wide open with two of his fingers, analyzing the way it glistened in the dimly lit room. "so pretty. my pretty girl." y/n moans in response.

placing his palm behind her knee, he lift up her legs as to press light pecks onto her plush thighs, his thumb now tracing down to her pulsing clit. javier starts to slowly swirl his finger, still kissing y/n's thigh. "I'm gonna stretch out that pretty pussy, querida, it'll be all you think about."

tracing her entrace with his index, he plunges his finger deep into her, causing y/n to arch her back onto the mattress of the couch. this was it. he was where all of his fantasies led him to. now that he had her, he'll never let go.

cunningly, javier moved his finger into y/n's pussy, squelching sounds and her moans lapping off the walls and into his ears like melodies. "that's right. want you to come on my fingers, hermosa."

it didn't take long for y/n to finally give him what he asked for, coming just from javier's fingers, her body writhing as soft whines dripped from her lips.

"Do you want to continue, querida?" he asks, caressing ar her hips. "please, javier..." and when she pleaded his name in such a way, it sent a jolt up his spine, causing his cock to twitch into his boxers.

"i got you." he smiles, eyes tracing every curve of y/n's body. he takes off his briefs, letting his shaft spring free, small pearls of precum already gathered at the tip. y/n's eyes opened out more as she saw the sheer monster that was about to enter inside of her. "it's fine, querida. it won't bite, hm?" javier hums.

taking his length into his fist, javier pumps it a few times before he aligns it with y/n's entrance that trickled with slick. he teases her clit with the tip of it then goes in, making y/n to claw at his back.

"shh, muñeca. it's okay..." Javier starts to move slowly, gently holding y/n's waist as he lets her adjust to him. sla few strokes after he feels her wrap her legs around him, urging him deeper. "harder, please.." she pleads, the sweetest sounds escaping her plump and swollen lips.

"fuck.." Javier groans, almost coming right then with the way she stared up at him through her lashes wet with tears. "fuck, sweet girlㅡ" he starts to pump inside of her, harder and deeper, roughly hitting that one spot continously.

y/n moans, her head empty, vision blurry, and mouth agape. she was a mess, the prettiest mess he'd ever seen. all because... thanks to him.

the man moves back and forth harshly, feeling himself so close as y/n's valvet walls wrapped perfectly around his cock. "shitㅡ you were made for my cock, muñeca. my pretty, pretty girl." he moans, pressing his head between her breasts, nails digging bruises into y/n's hips.

a few moments later, y/n is completely blank, incoherent babbles skipping from her mouth as Javier fucks deep into her. "you gonna come, hermosa?" y/n nods rapidly "go aheadㅡ fuck! go ahead, come on this cock, show me how good you are to me."

that's all she needed.

she comes once again, nimbly wrapping around javier like a vine, her walls squeezing him so tight it makes his release warm, white ropes inside of her immediately.

they both pant, as they come down from their high. realization sets in as they meet each other's gaze.

"thank god you're only an intern, querida. I'm strictly forbidden to fuck employees." Javier chuckles. "oh, shut up, jerk." y/n huffs, smiling as she presses yet another kiss onto his lips.

⁽⁽ଘ( ˊᵕˋ )ଓ⁾⁾‎ 토끼's NOTE : surprise!!! i honestly dont know what this is.. wanted to try my hand at some kind of romance ig. im also in my javier era SO YEAH. Grammar errors probs, not proofread. this has 2.75k words. THANK U FOR ALL THE SUPPORT <3

#pedro pascal #kinktober #pedro pascal characters #javier pena narcos #pedro pascal smut #pedro pascal x reader #javier peña #javier pena x reader #javier pena smut #javier pena fanfiction

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hwsing · 2 months

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Thoughts about pegging the allies and mayhaps Italy 🧍‍♂️

pegging? pegging!

notes: 18+, top reader and bottom characters. includes: america (alfred), canada (matthew), france (francis), england (arthur), china (yao). i think some of my opinions on this are unpopular but pls don’t attack me for it lmaoo, as always, reblogs are appreciated!

cw: talk about pegging, slightly toxic views on sex (ivan)

first of all, those who would be most interested in it would be francis who is just kinky as fuck, feliciano who is down to roll around however and yao who is so old and easily bored nowadays that you have got to switch it up often anyways. the least would be ivan, who is just overall not a super big fan of bottoming and arthur who is similar and just. struggles to get into most things involving toys. alfred and matthew are in the middle area.

francis loves sex. something has to be really bewildering for him to be particularly opposed — hell, it’s likely that he brought it up himself if you’re more hesitant to. if you bring it up first, he’s pleasantly surprised and causally agrees; he has high expectations! but, honestly, even if you suck at it, he just takes it as an opportunity to teach you. he’ll tell you how to fuck him right through his breathy, soft moans, encouraging and awfully sweet about the whole thing. but, if you do know what you’re doing or are more confident, he’s more than happy to take it. he actually cums a lot harder when something is in his ass to be honest. he’d most certainly want it to become a more regular thing.

like francis, yao might end up bringing this up himself. he is old and, honestly, very few things shock him. he’s not someone who needs super niche hardcore stuff to get off, but he thinks it’s beneficial for everyone involved to switch things up often enough!! he’s used to bottoming to begin with, so this is by no means his first rodeo. bigger the better

alfred is not very opinionated about these things, to be honest. by default, he likes getting his dick wet, so he doesn’t think about bottoming very often. when presented with the idea, though, he’s by no means opposed! he takes it like a champ, and if you didn’t already have it, he got plenty of lube! would be very embarrassed by the fact he got fucked though. he doesn’t really have a reason to be, he just gets flustered if you remind him outside of the bedroom

ivan isn’t inherently particularly dominating in intimacy, but he very much likes to be the one deciding the pace with sex. and while you can argue that bottoming isn’t a forfeit, because that’s true to him it feels like it. he’s just…. very stubborn and would likely be dismissive of the idea. if he trusts you a LOTTTTT i think he’d be more open to the idea. you’ll have to unlock ivan level 99 first though. good luck adventurer

i was having very mixed feelings on matthew. i do think he’d be down though. at least post 2020 matthew would be. prior to that, i dont think he’d be downright opposed to it, but he doesn’t entirely get it…. once it happens though, he doesn’t think it’s a huge deal. doesn’t love the feeling (just isn’t really into the feeling if the toy, thinks its a bit uncomfy regardless of lube) but if your thrust game is good enough it can compensate for the toy feeling!

arthur has bottomed before, but it was almost, if not just straight up always, because his companion for that night had a willy and refused to bottom themselves. arthur isn’t against it, even if it isn’t what he naturally gravitates towards — but… pegging? maybe a younger, more adventurous arthur would be a bit intrigued, but the man barely accepts that vibrators can help spice things up. he just… struggles to see the point, but he’s likely to try it out if you two are long term partners. i can’t see him being very into it, but he’ll indulge you once in a blue moon to please you because he loves you <33

#my work #hetalia #aph hetalia #hetalia hc #hetalia headcanons #hetalia x reader #hws hetalia #aph england #aph france #aph china #aph russia #aph canada #aph america #aph america x reader #aph england x reader #aph france x reader #aph russia x reader #aph china x reader #aph canada x reader

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ieatassbylilroblox · 10 months

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Movie!William Afton x AFAB!Fem!Reader

Hi here’s this. I want to be bent over every surface in Steve Raglan’s office.

1: Sorry I’m a total poser who has been out of the fandom since 2016 and only came back for Matthew Lillard the sexy murder man. I’m learning about William just give me time brothers sisters and siblings!! I bought The Silver Eyes 2day..

2: WARNINGS: Full NSFW, almost no plot, specifics under the cut.

Extended Warnings: Dick-pussy intercourse, cunnilingus, daddy kink, mention of BDSM activities (spanking, choking, scratching) and bloodplay, mention of abortion, breeding kink(? ish).

You'd been here many times before. You yearned to lie to yourself, explain it away with a big ethical bow on top. But you couldn't.

This guy. This awful fucking guy you couldn't get enough of. On the surface he was perfectly okay, get too close and he's an asshole, get as close as you were and you got the sense of something pushing sinister. But without any reason, no confirmation, only vibes, you were stuck. Stuck in this limbo of wanting to be a thousand miles away from whatever the fuck he had going on, and loving the feeling of his tongue on your clit.

He fucked you like nobody else. He knew what you liked, you knew what he liked. It was rare to find a match like that; the perfect sadist-masochist duo. He spanked you and choked you and scratched you, even cut you once, and it made you cum beyond your wildest vibrators. And you took it every time, and he loved that.

His big, strong hands held your plush thighs as he devoured your delicious cunt. He would tongue-fuck you, pull out to dance the tip around your engorged clit, and then dive back in for your fresh slick. Your head lay back on his work desk, and you thought, he must've fucked you on every surface in his office. Bouncing on his cock on his chair, being bent over this very desk while he fucked you from behind, up against the wall, on the floor, under the desk, slammed against the door---everywhere. You couldn't think of an inch of this room a blacklight wouldn't put to shame.

"William," you breathed, arching your back and reaching up to tweak at your nipples. One of his hands took your wrist, urging you out of the way so he could have at your tits. His much larger, hot fingers pinched your tiny nipple, making you squeak. His other hand gave your other tit a harsh grip while his tongue just kept going to town on your vagina.

"Ready for my cock, baby girl?" He rasped, and you looked at him. His stark eyes glinted up at you from behind his frames, his gray-and-white beard glistening with your cum.

"Please daddy," you whined, spreading your legs wider. You knew how much he loved 'daddy'. A smirk you could almost call vicious spread across his handsome face before he rose to unbuckle his belt. On a better day, he probably would have turned you around to leave bright red welts on your ass with it. But it was too early in the day; there were people around, and a locked door could only stifle your obviously lust-charged screams so much.

You let out a forceful sigh of relief when he pulled his huge, hard cock from his underwear. You'd been stretched by this monster so many times, but it never stopped being exciting. To your devastation, he doesn't move towards your pussy and starts stroking himself in front of you.

"How bad do you want it?" He murmurs. You're going to have to beg. You'd hate yourself for it later, as you always did, but humiliating yourself in front of Will just made you even wetter.

"So fucking bad," you droll, spreading your thighs as wide as you can, showing off your leaking, needy hole. "I need your big cock, Willie. I need to be filled, please. Need you to fuck me, need you to fuck me, please. I'll be a good girl, please, please, just use my hole to get off, please--"

With that, he gripped your thighs, pulling you up against his fat dick. He reached three fingers into your hole and used your cum to lube up. You were whimpering more pleas and thank-yous, as finally, his thick tip stretched your pathetic cunt open.

"Good girl, loving daddy's dick so much," he rasped between grunts. He was no doubt the dominant, but even that couldn't conceal how good your pussy felt around his cock. "So hot," he started going faster.

"Daddy yes!" you squealed, rolling your head back and thrusting toward his pelvis. His cock was long enough to rub your G-spot without any hassle, with every single piston of his toned hips. You moaned and whimpered and groaned at every drag of his perfect penis. "'Love your cock!"

"Gonna make me blow my fuckin' load inside you, princess," he said with a half-laugh. "Would you like that? You wanna be filled up with daddy's load?"

"Yes! Oh, yes!" You concurred, clawing at your breasts. "I wanna be full of your cum, daddy." You'd already had two abortions in secret because of this man; what was a third? Being inseminated by a creepy dickhead with a huge cock was just too good, made you cum too hard. The bliss was extravagant enough to dilute your care towards your own health.

"That's a good little whore," he praised with a half-smile. One of his hands moved to swirl on your clit, making you jolt. "Come on now, squeeze my cock. Squeeze all the semen out of my dick."

"Mm--mhm, yes," you slurred, the added pleasure of his fingers on your clitoris rendering your speaking skills asunder. "Y-Yes, daddy, yes daddy, m'so tight, gonna milk your dick, 'want all your cum."

He fucked you like a fleshlight. Your moans were reduced to incoherent babbling with filthy words distinguishable in between. The loud slapping and squelching became overbearing as William approached his orgasm. His hand abandoned your clit to cage your head in between his arms. The loss of contact bothered you little, as he was deep enough inside you to set your nerves ablaze. The mental image of his penis that far inside your body pushed you over the edge, and you wrangled a hand up to cover your screams of ecstasy.

"Fuck!" He hissed, leaning back up. He grabbed your things, pulling you into each of his brutal thrusts as he finished inside of you. You were panting and sweaty, letting your head fall to the side. You felt him tug himself loose, some dull pain before the unmistakable 'pop' of the tip of his cock meeting the air.

You could only listen and guess what he was doing and he started the cleanup process. You felt a presence, and opened your eyes to see him leaning over the desk from the front, head laying over his crossed arms as he looked to his right at you.

"You're gorgeous," he whispered, running a thumb over your chin. You rolled your eyes, but couldn't suppress your grin.

#william afton x reader #steve raglan x reader #my posts #i came back #putting this in my tag for him #hee hee hoo ho

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ashleycatchemm · 4 months

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1-24: Finally Free

Part 24 of??

Pairing: Reggie x Reader, Luke x Julie, Alex x Willie

Summary: (Y/n) (L/n) has been able to see and feel ghosts ever since she was little, which made it hard to tell the ghosts from the humans. Everyone has always thought she was a bit crazy, even her best friends, Julie and Flynn. But when three ghosts with a love for music appear in Julie's garage, suddenly (Y/n) doesn't seem so crazy anymore.

Song: Finally Free (Julie and the phantoms)

Season 1 Masterlist

Series Masterlist

Main Masterlist

♬♩♪♩♬♩♪♩♬♩👻 ♪♩♬♩♪♩♬♩♪♩

Pulling into my driveway I parked the truck and hopped out, leaving the door open for Arius to come out behind me. Once the black cat jumped out of the blue truck I shut the door behind him, a banging noise catching my attention from across the street. Looking over, at the big blue house across the street that's been for sale ever since I remember, no one has wanted to buy it, and when they do, something always seems to cause them to back out.

People have been saying that it's haunted, but I've lived here all my life, and I haven't seen or heard a single ghost from over there. My eyes drifted down to the man hammering in a new sign, only this one was different, it had the word 'Sold' written on it in big bold letters. "Hey Arius?" I didn't bother looking back at the black cat, eyes trained on the sign across the street.

A hum in response gave me the okay to ask my question. "Do you think there are ghosts in that house?" Nodding my head over to the house across the street, watching the man start to pick up the sign he pulled out before replacing it with the other. "I doubt it." Looking back at the cat, I noticed he disappeared, (e/c) eyes glanced around to catch any sign of the demonic cat, only to see him sitting next to me. Blue eyes glued to the house in front of us, tail moving in an annoyed way.

"Your grandmother cleared out that house ages ago."

My brows furrowed in confusion, "So then how did it not sell for years?" I shoved my hands in my pockets "If it's been cleared out for ages, how is it just now getting sold?" Arius didn't give much of a helpful response "I don't know." he turned around and started making his way towards the front door. "Wait." I stated, quickly following after him "What do you mean 'I don't know'? Aren't you supposed to know everything about my grandmother?" Sitting by the door, he growled out a response "I don't know, because I wasn't there." Arius' temper seemed to flare up at the subject and that's when I felt it. The pang of emotional hurt, it wasn't big enough to get a reaction from me, but I knew one thing. It wasn't my emotion I was feeling.

No.

It was the demonic cat in front of me.

Arius' ears were drooped downward a little, tail wrapped close around him, the end being curled between his front paws. Sitting down on the steps of my front porch, I asked the question on my mind, not knowing if he'd answer me or just yell at me and go back to being closed off, either way, I need to know. "Why weren't you there?" He was silent for a second, tail whipping back and fourth in an agitated manor. After a minute or two, he finally spoke up "Once witches and warlocks get older, they start settling down. Having kids. Getting married. That sort of thing." I stayed quiet, not wanting to jump in.

If there are warlocks out there, then I wonder just how many more people there are like me..

"Eventually, there is a point in our lives where we feel we aren't needed anymore to our masters, so we would leave. No goodbyes, or farewells. Since demons get attached to their witch or warlock, we feel it's easier on us to leave without goodbyes. Breaks the bond faster."

I watched as the cat next to me looked up at the sky his blue eyes shining with an emotion I've never seen on him before, admiration? Maybe even love. His mouth opened a little, as if trying to smile, pointed teeth visible for all to see. "Your grandmother was different than the other witches and warlocks in your family. She could tell I was going to leave. She knew that something was off when she talked to me that night. She sensed it." Arius looked out in front of him at the house across the street, the same house that started this conversation.

"(G/n) engulfed me in the biggest hug, and begged me to stay with her. And so I did, because she was my weakness. Anything she asked of me I would do, all to make her happy."

Arius' expression seemed to falter "But then, it all turned to shit." His teeth bared in anger, claws gripping onto the front porch. "One of her sons got themselves into deep shit. And so your grandmother sent me away in order to protect her family from the ministry." His expression shifted into a scowl as he laid down, front paws hanging a little off the end of the porch. "I'm not mad at her for what she did. I know that they could've easily tracked me and then her family would've been in danger. I just... I wish there could've been another way. 36 years I spent with (G/n), and yet it still wasn't enough. I wanted a little more time with her." The black cat grew silent, not wanting to say anything else as he rested his head on his front legs.

I stared at Arius, having another aching feeling in my chest, it was the same as the last one, having not been my own emotions. Raising my hand up, I brought it over so that it was hovering over the demonic cat's head. I kept it there for a second or two, debating my choices, He'll probably swat at me. But in that moment I decided that I didn't care, because I felt like I should give him some kind of comfort, even if he does swat me away. Bringing my hand down, I gently rubbed his head, cautious of his movements, not wanting to get hit.

To my surprise, he didn't fight back, closing his eyes, Arius let out a small sigh in content. This bond has to start somewhere. Looking up at the clear blue sky a small smile crossed my lips, feeling good that I finally did something to help someone I'm glad it's starting here. And talking about Grandma no less. Looking back down at the black cat, he let out a small huff before shaking my hand off of him and sitting back up.

"So I don't know what (G/n) did to that house. She probably put a spell on it to keep the ministry from finding her. Or from finding her sons. Everything she did was to protect the people she cared about."

"Before she sent me away, she told me to look after you if something were to ever happen to her. Your mother was pregnant with you at the time. And, well, I could feel it. The bond. Before you were even born. I sensed that you would be a powerful witch and I could tell that (G/n) sensed it too. So now I'm going to train you the best I can, and look after you. But I can only do so much."

I nodded my head, understanding what he was saying. I can't keep running away from what I am. That means I'm gonna have to start cooperating with Arius. The black cat looked over at me, his usual bland stare on his face. I opened my mouth to say something but the noise of a ghost appearing caught my attention. "Hey (N/n)!" The boy clad in his leather jacket was quick to state, walking forward a little he pointed back and forth from me to the cat sitting next to me.

"Is this a bad time?"

I shook my head a little, a smile gracing my lips at just the sight of the ghost in front of me. "No. Not at all." Feeling the pull at my chest, causing me to stand up and walk towards Reggie. "Why?" The bassist in front of me radiated happiness as he met me halfway and grabbed ahold of my hand "We got to practice! Our first gig is tonight!" Dragging me down my driveway "Woah, Woah, Woah, Tonight?" I was quick to stop in place at the end of my driveway, causing Reggie to come to a halt as I pulled back on his hand.

The dark haired bassist in front of me tilted his head a little as if confused as to why I stopped him "And I thought Julie was all done with the band? She told me herself that-" Reggie jumped in, successfully cutting me off to answer my questions. "We all made up. But we have to hurry and practice because our gig is in a couple of hours." He pulled me a little bit along the side walk, only for me to quickly come to a stop once again. Still not processing the information.

"Wait Julie forgave you? When? And when did we get a gig?" Reggie rolled his eyes in amusement "What even-"

I was cut off once again, as Reggie pulled me toward him and wrapped a hand around my mouth. Faces inches apart, his award winning smile sitting on his face "I'll fill you in on all the details later. Right now we need to go, okay?" His arm sat wrapped around my waist, I felt my cheeks grow warm from the close proximity. I nodded my head in response, that being the only thing I could do, even if his hand wasn't covering my mouth, I don't think I would've been able to muster a single word.

Well, At least non that would make sense...

His hand left my mouth, finding my own once again. Gripping it tight, he pulled me along to go to Julie's. Looking back I caught sight of the black cat following close behind me.

I don't think he's gonna leave my side anytime soon.

♬♩♪♩♬♩♪♩♬♩👻 ♪♩♬♩♪♩♬♩♪♩

"Okay. What's with the cat?"

Alex had his eyes trained on Arius sitting on the couch, as Julie walked over to him. "I think it's cute" reaching her arm out to pet him, I was quick to jump in "Uh, Julie, I wouldn't..." the black cat was quick to jump up from his position on the couch. Hissing at Julie, his fur standing up, back arched, ears pulled back to show his agitation. The curly haired singer pulled her hand away in surprise, Arius was quick to make his way towards the other end of the couch, settling down. His eyes glanced at Julie, sending her one more growl before looking back at me.

"What's its problem?"

Alex questioned, seeing as how Arius almost hurt one of his friends. Picking up my rhythm guitar, I put the strap over my shoulder while speaking on the cats behalf. "He just isn't fond of most people. So don't try to force it." Arius growled briefly as I spoke, causing me to send him a look as if to say 'Behave' the black cat huffed while whipping his tail back and forth in aggravation, but overall growing silent. "Well, now that the cat conversation is out of the way..." Reggie grabbed everyone's attention as he walked over next to me, swinging his bass strap over his shoulder.

"Let's get started."

Julie nodded her head in agreement as her and Alex made their way over to their instruments.

"Right."

♬♩♪♩♬♩♪♩♬♩👻 ♪♩♬♩♪♩♬♩♪♩

All four of us were playing the cords to Finally Free as Julie sang "Marching on proud, Turn it up loud, cause now we know what we're worth." Luke suddenly appears in the chair by the coffee table, causing the four of us to stop playing. Letting out a small "woah" he noticed the four of us by our instruments. Standing up out of the chair "Julie." He stated, surprised to see her by the piano.

"Grab your guitar. We got work to do."

Luke started at her for a moment, mouth agape, only to let out a small chuckle as he grabbed his guitar, which stood by me. Walking over to Julie he asked "What made you come back?" Julie stood up from her seat "I realized how important music is for all of us. And we've lost so much already. We can't lose this too." Luke nodded his head a little "Thanks." He responded, only to ask "All right boss. Where we at?" In order to lighten the mood a little, letting out a small chuckle at his own question.

"Oh, and by the way, happy birthday."

Julie sat back down in her seat in front of the piano, a small chuckle passing her lips, again Luke stared at her in disbelief. Glancing over at the guys as if they would tell him how she knew, looking back at Julie a smile crossed his lips before making his way across the room.

"Let's take it from the pre-chorus." Julie stated

Alex banged his sticks together "One, Two, Three, Four." And with that the five of us started singing and playing, in order to practice for tonight.

♬♩♪♩♬♩♪♩♬♩👻 ♪♩♬♩♪♩♬♩♪♩

"You can't come with me Arius. We've already discussed this."

The black cat sat on my bed as I proceeded to do my make up for the gig. "I'll go in my human form."

"What about if Julie and Flynn see you?"

"I'll make up an excuse as to why I'm there."

Putting the mascara down, I turned around to face the black cat on my bed, the two of us stared the other down as if trying to silently win the argument. Letting out a sigh, I pinched the fridge of my nose all while stating "Fine. You can go" The demon determined to be by my side every second of everyday let out a small cheer before getting cut off by me "But..." his cat like eyes seemed to narrow in aggravation as I told him the terms of the agreement. "...You have to stay outside of the coffee shop, in your cat form the entire time. Got it?" My eyes narrowed back at him as if daring him to challenge my decision.

A huff of defeat passed through the black cats nose "Fine. As long as I'm there, I really don't care." The sound of a ghost warping could be heard, grabbing the attention of both me and the demon across from me. "Hey (N/n), you ready to go?" Near the door stood the boy that made my heart practically jump for joy, just from the sound of his voice. Reggie stood clad in his black tank top, biceps clearly being shown which caused my eyes to drift a little to look at them.

My bottom lip found its way between my teeth, all while my thoughts started to get impure. "(Y/n)?" The bassist's voice brought me back to reality, I was quick to let go of my lip as my eyes darted back up to his own. "You okay?" He continued, raising his brows as if to question my behavior. Shaking my head a little to bring myself back to my senses I sent him a small smile "I'm fine. We should get going." all while making my way towards my bedroom door, Arius hopping off my bed and following close behind.

Reggie followed me out the door to my room "The place isn't to far from here is you want to walk together." I started to walk down the steps as I explained "Reggie, if I walked down the street with you, people would think I'm a crazy person talking to herself." The sound of a ghost warping could be heard behind me, only for the dark haired boy to reappear right in front of me at the bottom of the stairs. This surprised me causing me to almost fall back, only for him to grab my arms and hold me steady, our noses inches apart. I felt my face grow warm at the proximity, feeling that tug from my chest, the urge to just lean over and capture his lips in my own.

"We don't even have to talk, just walk and hold hands or something."

Reggie's eyes went wide as he let go of me and took a couple steps back "I-I mean..." I could tell that he was frantically trying to come up with an excuse, but I didn't care at that moment. "not hold hands, but ya know..." because when I looked from his eyes to his hands, I realized how much I wanted to hold it in my own. "I just-" reaching over I snatched his hand in mine, effectively cutting off the dark haired bassist

"Let's go." I stated, all while dragging him towards the door.

Getting a small response of "Okay" from Reggie as Arius followed the two of us out the door.

♬♩♪♩♬♩♪♩♬♩👻 ♪♩♬♩♪♩♬♩♪♩

Once we got to the coffee shop, I was quick to try to let go of Reggie's hand, only for him to tighten his grip and pull on it a little, refusing to let go. Looking back at the golden retriever boy behind me, my eyes narrowed as if to tell him to let go. "I know. But, just let me hold your hand a little longer...Please?" I was confused, I didn't know why Reggie was acting like this, but tonight feels different with Reggie. I couldn't place my finger on the reason why.

Looking around at the people walking in, I noticed a lot of them eyeing me and whispering to their friends. Looking back at Reggie I leaned over a little to whisper "Reggie. People are staring." It felt suffocating to be standing there with him at the moment, knowing that what everyone was seeing, was that my hand was out in the air holding onto nothing, and I was talking to no one.

Reggie's eyes held an emotion I couldn't quite place, maybe desperation? "I don't care if they stare." The dark haired bassist took a step forward, bringing our interlaced hands up to his chest, eyes begging me to just hold his hand a little longer. "Please (Y/n). I just want your touch right now." I didn't know what to do, I took another glance around at the people and noticed more staring and pointing fingers. I looked down at Arius as if to ask him for some kind of help, only for him to hop on a trashcan and say one thing.

"He's a ghost. So be careful how you handle this. I will explain to you want is happening later. But for now, focus on taking care of this."

My eyes landed back on Reggie's, not knowing what to do or say, I just shook my head all while saying a quick apology "I'm sorry." Pulling my hand away, I walked off into the bustling coffee shop.

♬♩♪♩♬♩♪♩♬♩👻 ♪♩♬♩♪♩♬♩♪♩

"Hey did I miss anything?"

I asked Julie and Flynn as soon as I got over to them. "Nothing exciting, that's for sure." Flynn stated, directing my attention to the stage. There clad in all pink to perform with her dancing divas was the queen bee herself, Carrie Wilson. "Hope you all came to have a great time!" Carrie's obnoxious giggle left her lips as the crowd clapped. An annoyed growl left my lips from her appearance to ruin my night "Dirty Candy?" Julie asked only for me to jump in "How did she get on the list?" Flynn gave both of us a look, as if we should already know the answer.

"Her daddy made a call"

Crossing my arms across my chest, I stared daggers at the girl on the stage all while Flynn commented on Julie's outfit.

"Whenever I walk in the room, All the focus on me"

Carrie walked forward on stage, her girls joining behind her "The way I talk, the way I move, they all want on my team." I rolled my eyes at her cheap dance moves, not wanting to sit through this what so ever. "Not trying to brag, brag, but I'm flawless. I'm taking over your playlist. Ain't perfect but I can't miss. Yeah" looking back at the boys who suddenly appeared behind us, I noticed Luke smiling and enjoying the performance, Alex looked a bit antsy, and Reggie held a pensive look on his face, not seeming to interested in the girls dancing in front of him. Almost as if he was lost in his own thoughts.

He's probably just as confused about what happened as I was.

Looking back on stage I noticed Alex appear behind Carrie who was now on the floor, I covered my mouth as a laugh almost slipped past my lips. Julie seemed confused, looking back at the boys to see why he did that but Reggie just shrugged in response. Alex seemed lost for a moment, only for the girls to stand back up as he started dancing with all of them, causing a small giggle in amusement to escape my lips.

When he was done he appeared back next to me, I sent him a smile and shook my head at his funny antics while Julie commented "You having fun out there?" Alex cleared his throat before coming up with an excuse "It's not my fault, it's my um..." he paused "It's my feet" I just shook my head while saying "Yeah, okay."

"Put me back in coach."

And with that Alex was gone, back to dancing on stage with Carrie and her crew. I felt a tap on my shoulder from behind as Reggie took Alex's spot beside me. "Can we talk?" I shook my head in response "not here Reggie." I glanced over at the boy next to me only to see his eyes narrowed in aggravation. "I don't care. We need to talk about this. Because what happened earlier was weird, you must have noticed that much. I don't know what's going on with me and, and I'm confused-" I kept facing forward as to not draw attention I whisper yelled at him "Reggie!" Successfully cutting him off I stated "Not. Here." Saying it firmly worked to an extent. An angry scoff left his lips as he crossed his arms and went back to standing next to Luke.

The song was soon to end as Alex took in all the praises. Before warping back next to me a giant smile on his face "I uh... I was just... doing that for you guys" Reggie nodded his head "Mhm. yeah. You can stop smiling now." Alex chuckled at Reggie's comment. Julie grabbed our attention "Not gonna lie. That was... kind of good." Flynn nodded her head in agreement "Yeah. I forgot why I hate her so much." I scoffed while saying "I didn't forget my reason for hating her." I noticed her making her way over to us.

"Speak of the devil."

I stated all while receiving a glare from the bitch in response, I sent her a sarcastic smile all while flipping her off. Carrie ignore my actions and turned her attention towards Flynn and Julie "Hi girls. Um, isn't it past your bedtime?" Flynn looked between Julie and I "Now I remember." Before looking back over at Carrie. "If you're looking for Nick, he didn't come." Flynn and I both scoffed in response to her statement, knowing she was just trying to take a jab at Julie.

Stepping towards Carrie, Julie was quick to stick up for herself "That's not why I'm here." The sound of the microphone was quick to grab everyone's attention.

"Ok, it looks like we're closing the night out with one more group, Julie, (Y/n), and the fat ones"

The four of us turned towards Luke in annoyance while the girls in front of us laughed. "Really?" Alex asked.

"Yeah man, my Handwriting sucks."

The four of us rolled our eyes as Julie and I went to walk on stage, but not before I angrily bumped my shoulder into Carries.

Julie was quick to make her way to the piano, as I grabbed the rhythm guitar "Hi, it's actually Julie,(Y/n) and the phantoms" looking around she noticed no one was really paying attention, taking a glance over at me I motioned for her to continue. "Okay." She stated into the mic and started to play the piano. "Hearts on fire, we're no liars, so we say what we wanna say." I played my rhythm guitar as I continued the next line of the song "I'm awaken, no more takin' so we push all our fears away." The two of us started singing together "don't know if we'll make it cause we're falling down under, close my eyes and feel my chest beating like thunder." Julie now sang alone.

"I wanna fly, come alive, watch me shine"

The boys appeared playing their instruments as Julie got up, bringing the microphone with her, I stood in the back behind Luke as the two of them sang. "I got a spark in me, hands up if you can see, and you're a part of me, hands up if you're with me, now till eternity hands up if you believe, been so long and now we're finally free." Julie started singing by herself while she hit a tambourine on her hip.

"We're all bright now, what a sight now coming out like we're fireworks"

I sang the next part alone "Marching on proud, turn it up loud, cause now we know what we're worth"

Julie and Luke sang the next part together as I went back near Reggie "We know we can make it when we're not fallin' down under, close my eyes and feel my chest beating like thunder." All while Julie and Luke stared contently at each other "I wanna fly, come alive, watch me shine" Reggie and I leaned into our mics as we sang "ooooh" while Julie and Luke sang the Chorus "I got a spark in me, hands up if you can see, and your a part of me, hands up if you're with me, now till eternity, hands up if you believe, been so long and now we're finally free"

Reggie suddenly jumped over to Luke's Microphone and sang with him, I felt a jolt of pain corse through my chest for a second as I watched Reggie's every move, I could feel the pull on my chest getting stronger and stronger with each passing day, and it doesn't seem to be letting up anytime soon, considering the effect it's starting to have on Reggie. That's the only explanation for his behavior earlier, but the only way to be sure is to ask Arius.

"I got a spark in me, hands up if you can see, and you're a part of me, hands up if you're with me, now till eternity, hands up if you believe, been so long and now we're finally free"

Julie and Luke now sang alone, meeting halfway Julie sang "I got a spark in me" she leaned the mic over to Luke as he echoed "I got a spark in me" the way Julie and Luke were staring at each other made me look back at Alex and Reggie for answers "And you're a part of me" Alex just shrugged with a small smile "And you're a part of me"as Reggie shook his head a little as if to say that he didn't know either.

"Now till eternity"

"Been so long and now we're finally free"

We all started playing our instruments again as Reggie, Luke and I all sang the chorus while Julie sang in the background "I've got a spark in me, hands up if you can see, and you're a part of me, hands up if you're with me" Julie sang "Yeah" as the rest of us continued "now till eternity, hands up if you believe, been so long and now we're finally free."

Reggie, Luke, Alex and I went back to doing the "oooh" as Julie sang "Finally free, yeah" Luke and I jumped in at the end "Been so long and now we're finally free" everyone stopped playing as Julie let me have the last note.

"Finally free, yeah..."

The crowd went nuts as they all cheered and applauded, the five of us took a bow as the boys disappeared. The crowd continued to cheer as walked over next to Julie she stated "Thank you, we're Julie, (Y/n) and the Phantoms." I was quick to grab the mic from her and state "Tell your friends." Before walking off stage with Julie.

♬♩♪♩♬♩♪♩♬♩👻 ♪♩♬♩♪♩♬♩♪♩

Once we got off stage Julie ran over to Flynn excitedly, engulfing her in a hug as the two of them giggled and squealed in excitement. I leisurely made my way over to them, only to get dragged into the hug as well. Once we all let go Flynn stated "You two were incredible!" To which Reggie smugly replied "Yeah we were." While looking back at Alex and Luke who were currently sitting on the bar.

"Hey, Hey! Whoever Carrie was trying to impress is headed our way!"

Luke was quick to call out to Julie and I, as the two of us turned around to see a women in a pants suit headed in our direction. "She looks all business" Alex commented and Reggie started to panic, asking "Wait. Who should do the talking?" Then once realizing what he said he quickly fixed it "Right, Julie and (Y/n)." Julie glanced back at Luke for support, only for him to say "You got this." The women was quick to grab ahold of my hand to introduce herself.

"Hi I'm Andi Parker, and I would-"

"Julie."

Our attention went from Andi to the man that said Julie's name, which just so happened to be her father. Andi looked back at the man behind her "Dad." Julie stated, not sounding to happy.

"It's time to go."

Ray didn't sound to happy but I couldn't let us loose this, it could be our big break and Reggie would be upset if I didn't try. "Mr.Molina, if we could just have 5 minutes to-" he cut me off, not wanting to hear anything I have to say. "No. Julie is going home. And I'm calling your uncle." I scoffed and shook my head "seriously? What did I even do?" Andi finally spoke up deciding that this was a bad moment. "This seems like a bad time, so I'm gonna take off, wonderful performance, the both of you." She stated, looking from Julie to me before taking her leave.

"No! Wait!"

Luke yelled but of course she didn't hear him. She couldn't. Luke went to go chafe after her, but let out an exasperated sigh after realizing it wasn't gonna work.

"What did you do? You brought my daughter out here on a school night, to entertain your band fantasies."

"Dad!"

Julie said and was quick to speak up before things go south "She didn't drag me out here, I left by myself." Ray shook his head in disappointment "we'll talk about your punishment later. For now I have to get you both home." Turning towards me he stated "And don't think you're off the hook yet missy. Just because you live in that house by yourself doesn't mean you get to go home scott free. I was told to look after you and that's exactly what I'm doing by giving your uncle a call." I felt trapped in a hole, unable to climb out. I hated my uncle. And I hated that I could loose the freedom that I currently had.

He's definitely going to come down here now, and when he does I'm screwed.

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#fanfic #fem reader #x reader #julie and the phantoms #reggie peters #luke patterson #luke jatp #alex jatp #alex mercer #caleb covington #carrie wilson #trevor wilson #reggie jatp #reggie peters x reader #reggie x reader

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watchingyoufromthestars · 3 months

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Teens as the Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse because Freddie brought it up and I love character assignments

First Horseman, Conquest/Glory: Normal

Glory can align to Pride, which from the Hell arc we know as Normal’s greatest sin. This is the White Rider, the color of which in the Bible is associated with righteousness; being morally right is a big part of the Oak characterization. A random side note of the twins using bows during the betrayal, this guy uses a bow, not that connected to Normal besides being his dad(s). Another interpretation of the First Horseman is as Pestilence, or infectious disease or plague, and he’s an Oak that’s explanatory enough for that. And he’s our resident stinky boy (even though it seems like everyone even the cast has forgotten that Normal DOES shower he just doesn’t know how to do laundry correctly but alas).

Second Horseman, War: Taylor

The Red Horse. In some translations, the color is specifically a “fiery” red, which fits perfectly with our little literal demon child. The rider wields a sword, which is the weapon Taylor is associated with the most from his wide array of survivalist gear. There’s also the association with bloodshed, which there has been for everyone, but I’d say most heavily with Taylor’s family at specifically Willy’s hands, who is currently in the position of God. He killed Glenn, decapitated Taylor, and also chopped off Nicky’s other arm (though none of those actually bled). I forget where I was going with that point is that actually a connection? Whatever.

Third Horseman, Famine: Lincoln

Not an actual reason for assigning him this, but this is the Third one and Link is a #3 kind of guy. He hates the number four because “that’s how many family members it’d be if his dad's got another kid”. The actual assignment may feel like a bit of a stretch but it makes sense to me. The Black Rider carries a scale, representing how bread would be weighed during the famine. They’ve also been interpreted as Scales of Justice. Applying this is Lincoln, I see it as the end to ep37 and Link’s feelings towards Grant as they are currently. Link is struggling to let his love for his father and hatred towards his actions coexist. He broke the garlic knot out of love, but he said he never wants to speak to Grant again. The garlic knot is his bread that he weighs in decision of how to approach his relationship with Grant, and he instead sliced it like the Gordian Knot and removed himself as a son and refers to Grant as a coworker.

Fourth Horseman, Death: Scary

Death surrounds Scary, that was my first thought when assigning. From Tony to Terry, and without going into depth about them because just mentioning them should be enough, Scary and Willy’s hand in her life has been more associated with Death than any of the other teens. Death is also the only rider explicitly given a name, and I’ll connect that to how she ‘rebrands’ herself as a goth punk seeker of darkness and going by an entirely different name upon introduction/throughout the series.

And that’s all 🫶 I love doing character assignments they’re so fun. There wasn’t that much to work from so they’re pretty simple reasons for assigning but I feel like the reasons fit enough.

#dndads #dungeons and daddies #dndads spoilers #dndads season 2 #dndads s2 #normal oak swallows garcia #normal oak #taylor swift dndads #lincoln li wilson #scary marlowe

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mj-ackerman · 2 years

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Tatsuya Endo's Character Commentary from the Official Spy x Family Fanbook English Translation Part 2:

Long post ahead. <<Part 1 here>>

Franky:

(Endo) The model for his character is Mozzie, who is next to the main character of the foreign drama "White Collar". The glasses are also exactly the same. He's a really good character who talks a lot of nonsense, but not a despicable one. It is rare to find a character with a model in "SPY x FAMILY".

This is Mozzie from White Collar, played by the actor Willie Garson.

The stripes on his socks are intended to make him look a little more fashionable, to give him a popular look.

He is well liked by the people from the underground. The tobacco shop is a sort of hideout for Franky, and if he's chased out of there, I think he's got another place and identity. His name "Franky" seems like not his real name too.

Sylvia Sherwood:

(Endo) The cool big sister superior officer. Big sister...? Her design was inspired by the Paris Collection, or whatever fashion magazine I was looking at. Her glasses, curly hair, and the hat are all a bit too troublesome to draw...

She has the appearance of an independent woman, but in her private life, she is a very sloppy person. She lives in a very dirty room. I may draw that in an extra chapter soon. Her fighting ability is unknown, but it seems she's not that strong.

Yuri Briar:

(Endo) His visual is exactly like Yor, a male version one. I thought about him having short hair, but it didn't feel right, so I decided to go with my current style. If he doesn't talk, I'm sure he'll be popular (with girls). I wonder if he's interested in anyone other than his sister?

(Hayashi) I think he's interested in his job?

(Endo) Yuri is certainly a very hardworking and a serious person. He really wants to protect the peace of Ostania, and I think he truly believes that this is for the sake of his sister. After all, she is his sister. He doesn't seem to have any hobbies that involve spending money, and since his taste buds are spoiled, he doesn't seem to eat gourmet food either.

He thinks Anya is a "despicable little brat". Compared to Franky, he's not used to children, so he competes with them in the same way.

Henry Henderson:

(Endo) Most of the characters are introduced only for a particular episode, but if I try to draw them and find them easy to move, I stick with them. I never thought that Henderson and Yor's boss, the shopkeeper, would play such an active role...

By the way, he's the only character who has a fanservice scene (the shower scene) in the work.

I liked the mismatched jersey he wore during the dodgeball round, so I'd like to have him do various cosplays as well. Like doing "Today's class is [redacted]", but I don't think there will be much demand for it.

Damian Desmond:

(Endo) He's exactly like Domyoji from "花より団子 / Hana Yori Dango / Boys Over Flower" (by Yoko Kamio) (Laughs). In his first appearance, he was a jerk who boasted about his status, but he soon became a good boy. I wanted to make him a meaner character though.

This is Domyoji Tsukasa, the main lead of the romance series Hana Yori Dango or Boys Over Flower, a manga by Yoko Kamio

(Hayashi) Because Ewin and his friend are good guys, I think he's getting better hanging around with them. They're really good guys who are always there for Damian and give him the attention that he needs. Damian should be thankful to the both of them.

(Endo) In the future, there may or may not be a dark episode of "After all, humans only want money and power...." (Laughs)

Becky Blackbell:

(Endo) Like Damian, she started out as a tsun-tsun (tsundere), but she soon became friendly.... And she was able to get along with Anya in just one episode. She's very easy going.

She thinks people her age are "brats" and doesn't have many friends other than Anya. I would like to make at least 1 more person to be her friend. Her personality and design are probably based on Marika-chan from "愛してるぜベイベ★★ / I love you baby ★★" (Yoko Maki). She's precocious and cute.

Marika-chan from the manga series Aishiteruze Baby / I love you baby by Yoko Maki

Unrelated, but I kinda like her last name "Blackbell". I don't remember the reason why I gave it to her though.

Fiona Frost:

(Endo) I really like "Nightfall's" design including her coat. The image color is "blue" in contrast to Yor. In terms of standing position, her character is to stir up the romance part of the story. I thought of it as a way to add variety to the story.

(Hayashi) There was quite a bit of talk about putting out a character on WISE's side as a friend during Twilight's meeting. I thought it would be nice to have at least one colleague for Twilight.

(Endo) The name "Nightfall" means to "follow around after Twilight (evening)". Emile and Ewin start with "E" because they're following Damian "D". I know people might think that the names of the other characters also have meanings to them, but I actually just added them on a whin (Laughs)

Donovan Desmond: (I can't add his pic anymore)

(Endo) Since he's the last boss, I'm careful not to make him look like a dull character. With a face like this, I'm sure that Damian looks like his mother (Laughs)

He was a member of the ruling party during the war, but now he's a member of the opposition party, so I have an image of him hiding in the background.

(Hayashi) He's a character with a lot of secrets, but the goal is to get into his heart, so please pay attention to him in the future!

#spy x family #spy x family official fanbook: eyes only #franky franklin #sylvia sherwood #yuri briar #henry henderson #damian desmond #becky blackbell #fiona frost #donovan desmond

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elvisabutler · 1 year

Text

spark ( chapter one: company )

fandom: elvis presley | elvis ( 2022 ) rating: m pairing: elvis presley ( fameless big daddy electrician ) x female original character word count: 13957 told y'all it was just shy of 14k warnings: old southern church ladies being all up in people's business. not the best of marriages. talk of children. copious amounts of sweat. elvis preferring to wear a jumpsuit that's worn in versus getting a new one. infidelity in some form. elvis in glasses. religion playing an at least faintly important part. a bit of negative self talk. this is not safe for work. i am not giving away anything else in these warnings. author’s note: first off the largest and most sincere of thanks to the ever delightful and loving marina who once upon a time just had whispers of a sort of off shoot/same vibe sort of thing for crawfever ( yes this is why this fic has gotten crawfever adjacent as a tag despite it not being the same thing ). and let me take them, burrow into her brain and find the bits and bobs that her brain had dreamed up but not been able to put into words. this fic would not exist without those whispers and without your edits. second, special thanks to my phenomenal wives and besties christi and birdy as well for you two know just how much you supported me in this from when marina did the whispers and i spewed what i affectionately called marina's brain herpes at you two, your screams and thoughts have been so powerful to get me to work on this. third, special other thanks to the charming @prompted-wordsmith for the edit job and the saving my ass on that one spot both me and marina could not figure out words for and putting up with my frankly excessive em dash use. beyond that, thank all of y'all who've enjoyed my vibes posts and have been getting excited based on what i've said to y'all, what marina has said to y'all, etc. just i'm very excited to show y'all this and i hope you enjoy. and quick tiny note, this is set in the 50s, so elvis is a wwii veteran and thus his birth and everything is pushed a little bit back to make this work.

“Call that handyman—the one from the church, I have to get to work,” her husband Nathan calls out as he leaves without a kiss exchanged between the two of them.

Words left unsaid die a quick death on her lips and tongue as she lets out a sigh. Once again she was left alone with barely a goodbye. She supposes she should be thankful he at least waited until she was awake. That he waited till she at least was conscious and able to ask him what she needed to, even if his response left so much to be desired. Call the handyman—Mr. Presley was his name, not that Nathan cared to know. After all, that would require him taking an interest in the church life or her sister’s life. It would require him to see the look on her face when she holds little Elizabeth while grabbing her from Sunday school or dropping her off at Sunday school for Melly. It would require… so many things.

Mr. Presley always told anyone to call Crown Electric and ask for him if they were in need. Some people argue it was some form of shrewd marketing but the pastor likes to reassure the congregation that Elvis, the godly and kind soul that he is, wouldn’t do that willy-nilly. Lilly’s hand shakes as she calls and reaches what she assumes is the receptionist before being reassured that he'll be over in a jiff.

A jiff turns out to be a surprisingly quick time, no more than a half an hour before she hears a knock that somehow sounds delicate and gentle but is forceful enough for her to hear it easily. Adjusting her dress, she smoothes out an imaginary set of wrinkles, nervous for reasons she couldn’t quite put her finger on. Perhaps it was because she feels so very silly calling up a handyman for this fix. Truly if she could she’s certain she could fix it herself and she knows Nathan had fixed this very problem before. And yet here she was, about to answer her door. Oh, she hopes he doesn't judge her too harshly—hopes he doesn't think less of Nathan or her.

As she opens the door she is greeted by the sight of Mr. Presley in a simple olive jumpsuit that appeared to be a bit tight in the middle, his paunch pushing at the fabric the same as it appeared to do in the area of his thigh. It's strange for her to see him like this, far more rugged than he ever is in church or at the potlucks. Lilly swears her heart skips a beat in what she thinks is shock cause she looks up at Mr. Presley’s face and sees what is one of the most genteel and warm smiles she's ever seen on a person.

"Mrs. Harris," Elvis greets Lilly with that smile that has Lilly's own lips curling into one even as she bites at her lip and tilts her head down.

"Mr. Presley. You came quickly," A statement of fact while hiding a question of why and how as she moves aside to allow him to enter her home.

“It's not everyday lil Miss Lizzie’s aunt calls for help from me. In fact, I think this is ya first time," Elvis answers while keeping his gaze on her as he enters, carefully avoiding looking around the house. "Musta been an emergency."

"Lil Miss Lizzie’s aunt" shouldn't sting as much as it does and yet she feels herself wince just slightly at the idea of only being known as an aunt, never a mother. Of being known as a barren woman who defied her family's legendary fertility to have an empty house and a husband who tolerated her at best as of late.

"Oh you just have to try harder, Lilly. Must be something—in your diet. Or that stress of yours. Nathan days you've been downright mean when you talk sometimes."

She's been downright mean, it would take a downright mean person to know one wouldn't it? It would take a man who ignores his wife like Nathan does to recognize a woman who's mean when she talks. Frustrated is what Lilly was, dejected is what Lilly was. But mean? No, she tries too hard not to be mean that the idea of Nathan accusing her of such a thing is a betrayal of her heart.

Lilly sniffles slightly, attempting to play it off as allergies. "You could say that, Mr. Presley. Nathan had to rush out and I'm—I can't quite fix it myself. And you did say if anyone needed help with anything to make a call for you."

Elvis opens his mouth to speak before her sniffles hit him. It's as if a grenade has gone off in front of him. It's as if he can see the rubble of whatever had been in front of him at those small, barely-noticeable sniffles. Why…? There was no reason for her to be crying. 'Less she didn't want him to be here. Had he said something to offend her, something that made her emotional? Or was it embarrassment from needing to call him? He shouldn't reach out to touch her, shouldn't offer comfort he isn't sure she needs. But there's something about that small little sniffle that has him frowning and praying it's just allergies or the dust from his suit or something physical causing them. His hand moves to grab her own and—zzzt—that's when he feels a spark shoot into his hand, up his arm and settle in his chest. If he didn’t know any better he swears his heart skips a beat or two as he shakes his head.

"Know I'm not the most charming o' company Mrs. Harris but—I do good work. As for Mr. Harris, I'm sure he's busy bein' a good provider. Givin' ya everythin' ya need. Fixin' things can be a bit o' work for you young ones, ‘specially for the men after a long day. That's why you got ol’ fools like me. Fix things so ya don't gotta worry that pretty head of yours.”

Lilly's lips can't help but quirk into a smile, small as it is, at his words. They're not entirely comforting at face value but the longer she allows them to sit as she watches him set his bag down on the floor by her oven and make moves to actually do his job, the more they settle something inside of her. A final sniffle escapes her before she blows her nose by her sink, turning to face Elvis when she's finished.

Lilly's never put much stock in the idea that someone's entire aura and demeanor can change based on the clothes they wear. After all, she was the same person whether or not she was in her nightgown versus her dress or in the dresses she’d wear around the house compared to, say, her Sunday’s best. Mr. Presley, though, there’s something to be said about how he looks standing in front of her compared to how he looks every Sunday. There’s something to be said about how the jumpsuit he’s wearing almost looks too small for him but it’s just his middle that tightens the fabric. It’s just that paunch of his stomach yanking the fabric forward in an effort to contain him, stretching the fabric across his chest and making it so he has to leave the zipper partially undone before it reaches his neck. Her eyes refuse to linger on his lower half for too long but she can see how tight it is around his legs, around his thighs and she feels a shiver come over her for just a moment. This–this isn’t the same man who dresses in a full suit, jacket and all to church. This isn’t the same man who has his hair slicked back and his suit pants pressed like his mama’d taught him in church.

This isn’t the same man she hands her niece off to every Sunday. No, this is another man entirely, a rugged down to Earth—salt of the Earth man. He’s a man who isn’t afraid to get dirty and afraid to work on things other people might stick their nose up at. He’s a man through and through and Lilly can’t help but wonder what else Mr. Presley’s been hiding. If there’s another side of him she hasn’t seen that is as fascinating and as invigorating to look at as this one.

Not that she should be looking, not that the Lord wouldn't… perhaps this is why Nathan and her still have a fruitless marriage. A marriage of short kisses and dinner on the table and mothers who touch her belly and whisper how soon enough they'll be blessed. Perhaps with two at once. Maybe this is why the lord refuses to bless her—maybe if she didn't wish for company—covet her sister’s and her friends’ growing families. She could have company if she could keep Nathan home for longer than a few hours.

Elvis’s mouth is opening and closing as if words are passing through them and Lilly blinks once, twice, three times before shaking her head to clear it of the thoughts that have started to swirl around it. "I'm sorry Mr Presley, could you–could you repeat what you just said. My mind went… I started trying to figure out what I could scrounge up in case this takes too long.”

There’s a chuckle, warm and inviting that leaves Elvis’s lips at the explanation before he shakes his head. “Got that little faith in me, Mrs. Harris? Think ya gonna be without an oven for a whole day? I’ll have this fixed up in in an hour, two if that.” He pauses and smiles. “Most of the time, it’s somethin’ real simple. Like ya said, you or Mr. Harris could’ve fixed it but ya both got things to do. Him, goin’ to work and bringin’ home the money and you, uh, takin’ care of… the house.”

Lilly’s chest tightens at his words, at how he stops mid sentence. She knows perfectly well what he was going to say, that she would be taking care of the children and the house, but the house is as empty as her womb. There’s a warmth to it, of course, attempts at making things as inviting as can be and yet there’s always the gust of cold air from the fridge or from the screen door opening and closing making the house feel even emptier than it is. Emptier in a way it doesn’t feel right in this moment with someone else in the house. Not with someone like Mr. Presley taking up so much space in her kitchen just from height and bulk by his lonesome. Maybe even just from his presence alone. Still, his words settle her fear just a bit as she watches him bend down to open her oven. She can’t help how her eyes linger on the worn fabric stretched across his backside and under, between his legs. They’re right there, and she hadn’t meant to look, she was just about to say something to him, something that’s been swallowed up by every thought that slams into her head at the vision in front of her. Oh, she–she’s just on edge from this morning and how Nathan left so quickly. That’s all this is, nothing more, nothing less. She takes a breath and moves to grab a pitcher from her lower cabinets unaware that Elvis had looked back to ask something of her before being presented with the sight in front of him. It’s nothing untoward, and is purely chaste but there’s something about the way her dress tightens just a smidge around her backside that has him swallowing his tongue and moving to stick his head in the oven with a flashlight to see what might be the problem.

The problem as he expected was something simple, an easy fix with a part he has in his bag but he notices how there’s a few other things that could be dealt with while he’s down here. He should charge her for them, but… he finds he doesn’t want to. Finds that spending time in her company is worth the extra time he’d be spending in her oven. Especially when he hears her voice softly singing some—he thinks that might be Jo Strafford but he can’t be sure. There’s an element of homeliness that has him sighing while in the oven. Normally he feels this sense of ease in church and here he is with Mrs. Harris and she makes him feel just the same.

“Mr. Presley, are you alright? Do… Is it worse than you thought?” He hears her soft voice above him and bashes his head against the top of the oven, cursing slightly as he does.

“‘M fine. It’s fine Mrs. Harris. Jus’ looking at the work I gotta do. Definitely—gonna take all two of those hours I promised ya but it’ll be good as new when I’m finished with it,” Elvis answers, rubbing at his head and moving his arm down to rummage through his bag, worried about how he’d look if he bothered to pull himself out from inside the oven.

The problem with doing that, the problem with hiding away in the oven as he does, is that even though the thing isn’t on, it’s stifling in the summer heat. Roasting him slowly but surely as he feels beads of sweat enter his eyes and slightly fog up his glasses. His free hand, unoccupied with his work, moves to grab a cloth he has on his belt just to wipe at his eyes. He hopes he doesn’t get any dirt on them. Meanwhile above him, Lilly busies herself with puttering around the kitchen. She’s making lemonade that’s almost as sweet as her sweet tea, but only because she’s never really enjoyed how sour lemons can be, sure that was supposed to be part of the allure but—Lilly’s never been that sour of a person. Instead more full of sugar sweet smiles and sweet Southern charm that had her husband falling at her feet when they were teenagers and had his parents eating out of her hand the moment she said hello.

It takes Elvis damn near the whole two hours to finish, finally managing to finish a little bit after lunch time. Just enough time for LIlly to whip up something real quick, nothing too fancy, but Nathan would understand in this case, after all, it’s not as if he had fixed it before work. She hears Elvis’s groan from inside the oven and she can’t help the way she crouches down at the noise, making sure her legs are covered with her dress and moving to hold out her hand in an effort to help him pull himself out from inside her oven. She notices the dirt on his hands but doesn’t mind in the slightest, knowing she’s got a functioning sink and from that groan he honestly just might need a hand getting up out of it. There's a hesitation and an aborted attempt to swat her hand away before he takes it as both their arms twitch at the same time when their hands touch.

"Didn't shock ya, did I, lil darlin'?" His voice sounds distant for a moment as he uses the leverage from her hand to scoot himself out and then pull himself up into a sitting position.

“No, Mr. Presley, you didn’t—” Lilly’s words trail off as she looks at Mr. Presley’s face and notices just how covered in sweat it is. It shouldn’t be that sweaty, she thinks, it shouldn’t look like he’s practically used her garden hose in the back to hose himself down. That rag should’ve been used to mop up the glittering beads rolling down his cheekbones and collecting in the dip of his cupid’s bow. Unless he has somehow lost the ability to put it to use—but as Lilly’s eyes trace down his strong forearm she finds it’s translucent in a way that brings to mind summers outside and gigglingly waving at the boys across the lake. Being in a confined space like her oven would cause something like this, would cause someone to sweat as much as this but seeing it in front of her, seeing it before her very eyes has Lilly struck a bit speechless. There’s a glass of lemonade in her hand that she plans on offering Mr. Presley but the words refuse to come out, caught in her throat as she just stares at him. Stares at the sweat covering his face and his hair and making there be this curl among all the chocolate brown plastered to his head. It shouldn’t—it isn’t attractive on Nathan or any other boy she had ever seen look similar to this after a football game or after a hard day of entertaining outside. Yet here was Mr. Presley looking so very attractive that Lilly can’t find the words to describe it. This could not be the man she had seen so many times at church, at Sunday School when she dropped off her niece.

Elvis is confused the longer he looks at Lilly, the longer he sees her staring at him like he’s a prime cut of meat. That—he hasn’t seen that look on a woman since after the war, since before his overeating and the nightmares and the grief and the visions he can’t ever stop thinking of unless he’s working. Sure, there’s still the few who try and set him up with their daughters who they figure can’t find another man and the few widows who remember how he was when he first came back to Memphis. But someone who’s Lilly’s age looking at him like that? Like she might be willing to pounce on him despite the ring on her finger? Oh, that was… That is something he cannot entertain, that has to be the heat finally getting to him, finally making him imagine things that certainly aren’t there. There’s no conceivable way someone as sweet as Miss Lilly, Mrs. Harris, Lilly, would ever be looking at him like that. His eyes drift down to the glass in her hand and a grin threatens to overwhelm his face as he grabs it with a simple thanks and starts to down the drink without a care in the world.

Lilly’s eyes watch as a single sweat drop rolls down his skin. Mr. Presley’s neck is stretched out as he drinks, Adam’s apple bobbing. The drops of water on the outside of the glass fall to his neck. They join their sweat brothers in rolling slowly but surely down his throat, tracing a path her mind whispers to her about chasing with her tongue as she had more than once before with Nathan. They roll down past his collarbone and down to his chest—his exposed chest because of that stupid zipper. They make a home in the patch of sweat and musk and warmth that is his chest hair and Lilly’s mouth opens to let out a choked-off squeak, she thinks. Or maybe it was her choking on her own breath, on her own tongue as she tries to say something, tries to tell Mr. Presley to set down the glass or drink slower or that he missed so much sweat on his body. Maybe–maybe it went all the way down, oh, maybe it…no, she cannot entertain this idea, she cannot entertain the way her mind wants to explore the possibilities. Tonight Nathan can help rid her of these thoughts, he can help her forget how she sees all this sweat gliding down another man’s skin. Down Mr. Presley’s skin, down the skin of someone who teaches Sunday school and wears tight jumpsuits that leave nothing to the imagination. The thoughts swirl and swirl as she clenches her thighs together and rubs them against each other. There is a smooth, slick quality to the glide that makes a flush of shame rise to the very apples of her cheeks, or maybe that’s the way Mr. Presley’s body is burned into her mind.

“Oh.” She exhales the word, swaying a little before she shakes her head, “Mr. Presley. You— Your—” Lilly shuts her eyes before continuing. “Are you enjoying the lemonade? My lemonade?”

“My lemonade”? What was she thinking, it was just lemonade, she didn’t have a claim over it, she didn’t want to know if Elvis enjoyed something of hers. That way of thinking—no, she just wanted to make sure she had made it correctly. That she had made it the right amount of sweet for him to enjoy and for it to quench his thirst. A repayment for making him do such a silly job as he just finished doing for her. Her eyes meet his as she finally is able to take her eyes off of his neck, off the vein in his neck that throbbed as he swallowed, at the way his swallows allowed the droplets of sweat and water roll down his throat. Her hand twitches with a desire to touch and hold.

“I loved it. Sweet as anything I‘ve ever had.” He licks his lips, tasting the tangy salt of his sweat cutting through the sweetness of her lemonade. It’s not a lie, he truly does enjoy her lemonade, but he thinks–he thinks he might enjoy her company more, enjoy how she asks if he’s alright and worries about him enough to give him lemonade after he swears he’s practically sweat through his own jumpsuit. Not many people extended such domestic kindness to him anymore. He was Elvis the Pelvis, Elvis the Sunday School teacher, he was Elvis the electrician, but never just Elvis. He wasn’t ever just a man that a pretty wife might offer lemonade to. “Ya mind if I have another glass?”

The way she hands over the pitcher is almost robotic or automatic and Elvis can’t help the way his hand shoots out to grab it, his fingers brushing over hers yet again igniting another spark between them. It’s not possible and yet he swears he feels it from his fingertips up to the top of his arm. Lilly pulls back her hand quickly, cradling it against her chest. “You can have th-the whole… the whole pitcher if you need.”

Elvis laughs, the idea almost as comical as the way she says it with a straight face. Pouring the glass, he shakes his head at her and shrugs, “Can’t polish one of these off myself. If I had help now—”

There’s something inside of Lilly that loosens at those words, at the playful nature of them despite how there is perhaps a flirtatious edge to them. It’s as if there was something inside of her that she hadn’t realized was a problem before that evaporated at Mr. Presley’s laugh and at his smile. It felt like true enjoyable company, the sort of company you’re supposed to have with your friends and your husband, but Lilly can’t remember the last time she felt it with anyone other than her sister. Her mild bitterness at swollen bellies and husbands who came by and kissed their wives on their cheek, happy to see them and see their handiwork coloring her happiness to see friends. God hadn’t seen fit to grace her womb with a child, and Nathan was alright with that despite Lilly’s pleas so she had dropped it all the while pushing those friends away, the reminder of the dream she wanted slipping farther and farther out of her grasp, through her fingers like the sand on the beach.

Lilly smiles and grabs the other glass on the table, it is normally Nathan’s but she can set out another one, she can do the dishes before he arrives home while dinner is cooking. She sets it right in front of Elvis. “If you’ll do me the honor of pouring it. If you’re a gentleman.”

The laugh sounds almost sinister when it leaves his mouth, a dark sort of thing but the warmth in it has Lilly realizing that perhaps it’s a special laugh. Maybe it could be his laugh for only her. Nathan had one of those for her, once upon a time. She misses that laugh and to have another person give one to her is… it warms her soul from the inside out and she swears she feels a part of her, a part she knows has been snapped in half for the past year at least snaps back into place. His words are almost missed but when she focuses, puts him back in focus, she hears him clear as day as he pours her a glass. "God and my mama'd strike me down if I wasn't a gentleman, 'specially to you, Lil darlin."

There it was again. A nickname. Nathan never gave her one, told her that her name was already short enough and pretty enough and yet here was Mr. Presley giving her one. It’s an open secret he’s liberal with his use of nicknames and yet hearing one perhaps only for her has her heart fluttering in her chest, fluttering against the confines of the bones keeping it inside. Lil darlin, a shortened version of Lilly and darling in one simple nickname. Her body warms at the implication of familiarity. “Thank you, Mr. Presley.” Her teeth move to worry at her lower lip as she toys with a question inside her head before looking at him. “Would–Would you like to stay for dinner? Nathan—Mr. Harris might be late and I’m—you’re charming company.”

The way she starts and stops in asking makes Elvis want to say yes, wants to put her at ease and tell her there’s perhaps nothing he’d like to do more that afternoon, but his eyes drift down to her ring glinting in the light and he sighs, shaking his head. The thought is tempting, but thou shalt not covet thy neighbor's wife and thou shall not commit adultery. While he may not do the second, he knows if he stays much longer he’s likely to do the first. “Not—I appreciate the invitation, Mrs. Harris, but I have to get home. Maybe. A raincheck?”

A raincheck. A promise of maybe another time. A promise of if things were different he would say yes in a heartbeat. A promise that if he could he would stay sitting at her dining table and drink lemonade as she cooked dinner for her husband. Her husband, the one she cares for and loves with all her heart. He— He— There should be no raincheck and yet he wants her to agree to one.

“A raincheck.” Her face had fallen as he let her down easy before the mention of the raincheck, the mention of it making her smile once again. The mention of it having her smile and beam and bloom like her flower namesake, soaking in the attention as if it was water meant to nourish her and fulfill her. “Of course. You—Just finish as much of the lemonade as you’d like and you can see yourself out, if that’s alright? Just—so I can make dinner and have it done on time.”

His eyes watch as she stands up, smoothing out her clothes and sees how she practically glides across the floor of the kitchen as if she’s a natural in it. Her body moves as if it’s used to being around people and used to having people underfoot and Elvis is struck by how it feels like something is missing watching her, feels as if something doesn’t seem right in the picture. There should be someone else near her. He—no, that’s not a path he’ll go down today. After another ten minutes of him just watching her work and two more glasses of lemonade, he sets down the glass and makes his way out the door. “Goodnight, Lil darlin’!”

It feels a little dirty, the way when he gets home and is in bed for the night his cock jumps at the memory of her staring at his chest. He knows she's married, saw the ring clear as day in the sunlight but that look. He only remembers that look from June when he took her once upon a time. Had her husband not been giving her what she needed? Had she not been given the proper water to blossom? Had he been leaving her to wilt inside their shared home that she kept so well? Had he–had he deprived her of the ability to put down roots? The idea knocks the air out of his lungs and has him praying for forgiveness no more than five minutes later as he wipes his hand on a dirty shirt nearby.

Elvis doesn’t see Lilly until that Sunday in church, and yet his mind wanders to her when he’s working with other people’s issues. None of them are as simple as hers was and it makes him almost angry that he’s stuck spending his time with these issues when hers were over far too quick. Time flies when you’re having fun, but had he been having fun? Or was it just that God himself knew better than to allow him to stay in her house for too long, the urges he could feel flowing through his veins almost too hard to ignore. When he does, though, when he does he sees her in the most gorgeous of dresses, a simple baby blue number that matched her sister’s and matched her brother in law's tie. He expects to see her husband. Nathan, she had called him, and instead only sees the three of them and one small little girl in Lilly’s arms. Little Lizzie being carried by Lilly and looking so at ease and happy in her arms that Elvis’s heart twists at the image. A woman like that, a woman who can get a child that was less than a year old to be so calm and collected in a sea of people… now that’s a woman who ought to have a passel of kids, a football team of children. A platoon of children behind her, all in single file, smitten husband bringing up the rear. Yet here she was on a Sunday without her husband and tagging along as an extra hand, helping her sister who, if rumors were to be believed, was expecting again. He sees her wave off her sister and brother in law before she walks toward him, a soft smile on her face.

“Mr. Presley,” Lilly murmurs softly as Lizzie yawns in her arms and snuggles closer. “I was going to hand her off to you but I don’t think I can. I think she’d much prefer to keep her pillow.” She looks down at her niece before looking up at him. “I—If it’s alright, do you mind if I stay here?”

His hand moves in such a way as to brush off her concern. Did he mind if she stayed there? What sort of silly question was that. Did he mind if a woman who occupied his mind as he pleasured himself stayed in here with him. He has to bite back a laugh. If he could he’d let her stay in this room with him until time eternal, until the rapture where those who were worthy would be saved. She would be saved and perhaps–perhaps, if he could resist, he would have mended enough fences with God for him to do the same thing.

“I can always use the extra help, Mrs. Harris.” He motions to the children already around him. “They can be a bit of a handful.”

A laugh that sounds like the church bells ringing leaves her mouth as Elvis watches her bloom like she did at her house. There’s… It’s strange, seeing her so happy because of words he’s saying, almost as if he’s the reason she has to smile and she’s soaking up every bit of attention he can give her. Elvis has never fancied himself a gardener by any means but for her he thinks he might be one. Her husband should nurture her as she nurtures him and their children when they have any and yet he wonders if he does. He wonders if the boy, Nathan, realizes what he seems to be doing to Lilly, how her petals fall without attention, how she withers without his care, without his water nourishing her soul, her body and filling—Elvis shakes his head to clear it.

“You always handle them so well, Mr. Presley. You’re a natural, I think.” The question is on the tip of her tongue, the question of why Elvis doesn’t have children of his own but she stops herself, she stops herself because it’s none of her business why. Maybe he just never found the right woman—a shame, she thinks. He would make a great husband from what she’s been able to see. A loving husband. A caring husband. So wrapped up in her own thoughts she very nearly misses him speaking to her as she sits down, shushing Lizzie’s protests at the movement and making sure the little ones around her quiet down.

"Surprised ya don't have children, Lil Darlin', ain't ever seen a woman be a natural with 'em like you," Elvis says, peeking over the rims of his glasses to a child who looked about ready to cause a complete ruckus. His focus is purely on that as he misses her wince and the way her hand reaches out to rub at her stomach, almost as if to mourn the lack of children from her womb.

"Nathan and I… We've been trying. Less often, lately, but—oh I don't—it just hasn't happened. God's saved those blessings for my sister. Little Lizzie and, and the one she's carrying now." Lilly bites her lip, trying not to let the tears she feels pooling in her eyes fall. She’s in public and Mr. Presley is just an acquaintance as of now, he doesn’t need to see the emotion she’s only ever reserved for her sister, Melly. A sniffle escapes her before she can stop it and Elvis’s hand reaches to grab a handkerchief from his pocket to give her to blow into and to dry her eyes. She takes it gladly.

"God'll gift ya one soon enough, be a cryin' shame if he didn't." A true statement of fact disguised as a reassurance. Elvis doesn’t think there’d be any true justice in the world if the Lord didn’t bless her with a child or several. Even now as they talked just her presence seemed to calm the children as they sat near her, waiting expectantly for him to tell a story or sing a song. Even Lilly dabbing his handkerchief at her eyes looked as if she was waiting for him and what he would do. As much as he wants to continue to talk with her, he thinks perhaps he should just entertain her. He thinks he should show off what he can do for her. His mind doesn’t dwell on the meaning behind it, instead choosing to dwell on how all he wants to do in that moment is watch Lilly be happy with her niece in her lap while she makes children listen and remain calm even if they are excited.

The class is the calmest one he’s had in at least a year.

Things keep breaking in Lilly’s house and if Elvis was a suspicious man—if Elvis felt any hope when it came to Lilly, he would venture she called him on purpose. He would venture that she wants to see him and perhaps breaks things to do just that and yet they’re so different, each thing that’s broken, that he thinks perhaps it’s honestly things just breaking. The one true joy involved in it, though, beyond seeing her face when he’s fixed yet another thing is how she smiles when she sees him.

Elvis is a man. Elvis is a man who can’t help himself sometimes. Elvis is a man who is not perfect. Elvis is a man who cannot and will not avoid the temptation of at least seeing Mrs. Harris more often. He learns Nathan rarely comes home on time except for certain days. He learns how great of a cook Lilly is, the smells wafting around the house when he works. He learns she’s a great cook because he’s tasted it at her insistence that he take home the food she’s made, if not insisting that he comes and eats with her. There is a part of him that thinks he’s playing her husband, replacing the man who is never home and is rarely at church with his wife despite how much it means to her. But Elvis knows he isn’t her husband. Despite what he does when it comes to cooking with her, despite how every so often his body betrays him, pictures her beneath him or on top of him, taking him in a way he wouldn’t think she could… he never acts on it. He never tells her. They haven’t crossed any lines, they are just friends who are becoming closer the more and more time they spend together. Days turn into weeks and weeks turn into months and before he realizes, before either of them realize it’s been three months and another thing has broken. Something feels different as he finishes up and prepares to leave only to realize that he can’t, not with her the way she seems to be on this particular day.

He knows he should have already left, knows that her husband is liable to be back sooner rather than later, after all today isn’t a day he normally goes straight out with his friends. Today is a day he comes home to eat dinner with his wife, perhaps—enjoy other pleasures with his wife and then leave with his friends. It is a Friday, he has the rest of the weekend to spend with the boys and he knows Lilly will be with him on the Saturday with their wives and Sunday during church and the potluck afterward, not that he enjoyed going to them. But Lilly looks so… she looks so in need of company, something had happened the night before, he reasons, something had caused her soul to curl in on itself to the point where she doesn’t talk nearly as much as she normally would with him. Sure, they had still been floating around each other, and she answered a question here and there and would check to make sure he wasn’t accidentally shocking and hurting himself but there was no humming above him, no subtle roll of her hips that made him ache when he was alone at home. Done with his work, he washes his hands in Lilly’s sink, watching as she busies herself putting the finishing touches on her dinner before she pops it into the oven he fixed a few months ago. Yet he can’t shake the feeling that something else in this house needs to be fixed beyond the oven and beyond the wiring he had fixed tonight. He’s never been one to leave a job undone or hastily finished only for it to fall apart some time later for someone else to repair, damage caused by his carelessness. His eyes against his better judgment watch as she bends, watch as her dress rises and stretches around her backside, highlighting it in a way that has him averting his eyes. When he hears the quiet slam of the oven closing he finally looks back at her and is met by her wiping her brow for a moment before staring at him.

“Do I have something on my face?” The question is so innocent he almost laughs. She has nothing on her face. There’s nothing wrong with her face other than the fact that it’s marred by a frown instead of—at the very least—the small smile he’s used to seeing from her. He wants to fix it, he wants to keep her from wilting, make it so she can continue to bloom the way she has been from the moment they properly met outside of church.

“Ah… No, Lil Darlin, you don’t. Ya jus’—did somethin’ happen with you and Nathan last night? Ya look awfully sad and I—you weren’t even hummin’ today. Felt like I needed to put on a record it felt so quiet in the kitchen.” Elvis tries to choose his words carefully and even so Lilly’s face falls just a hair as she sighs.

“Oh. I–I didn’t realize it looked so obvious. I…We were supposed to go on a date, Mr. Presley. We were supposed to go on a date and he was supposed to take me dancing because we haven’t in over a year and I miss it. But—there was a business meeting that ran late and by the time he got home I was too tired and the dance hall was—”

“Closed,” he finishes off for her, knowing full well what time every dance hall in the general area of Memphis closed. He knew full well that the only one that might have stayed open past a normal time was the army one and Nathan, unlike him, was not an army man. No, he was merely a boy–a boy playing at doing business and taking care of his wife financially but not emotionally. There it was again, that deep unceasing urge to fix it, that urge to fix this even if it’s not his place to try to fix anything beyond her appliances and her wiring. His fingers twitch against the side of his leg as he feels them both loosen, one even bouncing just slightly. It’s as if his body is trying to rev up while his mind reminds him with a traitorous whisper he still has every bit of equipment needed to help—to fix this, even if it's all more than a bit rusty. He can shake off that rust just fine, if it was for her.

“I… Lil Darlin. If—I know how to dance. Know I don’t look it, with this paunch,” he gives his stomach a light slap that has it jiggling just a bit and has Lilly’s eyes widening and a flush of desire coursing through her veins, wondering how that would feel under her hands, not that he notices. “But I used to do a lot of swing dancin’, if—I could dance wit’ ya if ya want me to. Ya can say no, but the offer’s there.”

For a moment, Lilly just stares at Elvis as if he’s grown an extra head. Surely he’s saying this in jest, he doesn’t mean what he’s asking, he isn’t offering to treat her better than her husband did. He isn’t offering to dance with her in the kitchen or the living room. That’s–that’s such a silly notion that despite how their relationship, their friendship has grown he can’t be caring for her more than her husband does. The laugh that escapes her sounds harsh even to her own ears as she winces at the sound, her eyes meeting his as if there's a million and one apologies on her tongue. His eyes make every apology that tries to form disappear in every breath she takes. He's not angry, doesn't think she's mocking him with her laughter. As always he realizes she just thinks he’s joking or that there is no way he actually wishes to do what he’s mentioned because after all, if her own husband doesn’t want to dance with her why would a stranger or a friend of sorts want to? That’s not something you do for a woman when you aren’t married to her. Swing dancing in her living room, that has to be a joke.

Her voice is quiet, though, once she stops laughing and notices how Elvis still looks like he might be expecting an answer, as if she hadn’t practically mocked the mere idea of them swing dancing in her living room. Maybe—oh, maybe he was being genuine. Oh, he was far too good to her, indulging her silly wants and desires as if they were married instead of just merely friends. "You're… you don't have to." There. There, she had given him a chance to take back what he offered and made it so they could move on from this—move on from what such an offer meant to her and how she could feel her throat tightening and her heart in her chest twisting.

Elvis takes a moment to just take her in, take in the way her body seems to wilt at the mere idea of him not dancing with her and the idea of him taking her up on her offer of taking back what he agreed to. The breath that leaves him is overtaken by a laugh, though he tries to stifle it. He holds out his hand and moves to the living room. "Lil Darlin', wouldn't've offered if I didn't. Gonna have to forgive me if 'm rusty. Haven't done it in a while."

"Neither have I."

He's sure he feels a muscle in his jaw tense at those words before he shakes his head to clear it. Soon enough her husband would realize how much he's let his wife wilt from lack of attention, from lack of water to nourish her body and soul. For now though, for now he’s here to help her, to make her smile and be happy in a way she deserves to be. Her hand is soft enough that he almost feels wrong touching it with his callus-filled ones. It feels wrong to have such soft skin against his own but at the same time, it settles something deep within him to feel her hand in his and to feel her pressed against his body. He takes a moment to put on a record, praying it actually is something they can dance to only to realize it’s “Sing Sing Sing”, a song he’s danced to more times than he cares to count. Laughter erupts from in a fit of pure joy as he sees Lilly’s face light up when they start to dance.

There should be a bit of awkwardness that only comes from when you first try to dance with a new partner, and yet they fall into a rhythm so natural his mind swirls with the possibility of dancing with her like this the rest of his life. Her feet move in step with his, easily avoiding his own, before he grabs her to pick her up, a move he hasn’t done in almost a decade but he does with an ease that shocks him as she giggles, the sound adding to the music as if it’s another horn. He’s getting dizzy with the sheer joy of hearing it. It feels so natural to swing and toss and lift her up as she smiles brighter than anything he’s ever seen. It looks like the sunrise in France when there was those brief moments of peace. All he can think is how that smile needs to be there every second of the day, that’s a smile that deserves to be seen, deserves to be shown off to everyone and yet—and yet he hopes not even her husband has seen this smile. Perhaps this is just for him and his swing dancing with her. Maybe no one else has seen this smile, because he swears even when he was younger he didn’t move nearly like this, didn’t smile so hard his cheeks are burning from the use.

Elvis is so wrapped up in his thoughts that he misses her foot positioned a certain way when he moves to pick her up for another lift and stumbles. A short curse leaves his lips as he moves to fall on one knee with Lilly falling onto his other knee. He hisses at the pain, knowing he’ll regret this move later, but he couldn’t have her falling to the ground, couldn’t have her risk being injured because he couldn’t catch her—because he lost his footing like a klutz. Except Lilly is still laughing, she’s still laughing and still putting off every bit of joy in the world in his lap. His eyes run down her body, seeing how she’s breathless, her chest heaving and pushing the buttons of her dress. He shouldn’t look and yet he sees, he sees how her chest is heaving in delight. As if to help himself—to keep himself from staring even longer his eyes dart down to her legs, down to her thighs where, oh Lord, her dress has risen up just a hair. Just enough to reveal more of her thigh, to reveal a hint of a stocking that has his mouth drying up the longer he stares. Her legs haven’t seemed to catch up with her brain and the rest of her body, thinking they’re still on the ground and needing to kick up and down almost like a child. There’s a playful exuberance in the action as she appears to not have a care in the world despite how the action has her dressing riding up that little bit more as she continues to giggle and kick at the air in his lap. The skin and the stockings threaten to overwhelm him as he feels the stirring in between his legs a moment too late as he sees Lilly’s eyes widen.

“Oh.” A singular word yet one that packs such a punch as he realizes what it means. What it means for her to utter it to him like that when she’s in his lap as his cock rises to attention like he’s back fresh from the army, wanting to dance with a new girl every night and yet here is one singular woman reacting in such a calm and startled way that he has to stop himself from tossing her off of him in a huff. Still, he lightly pushes at her in an effort to keep her from feeling just how aroused he is only to have her hand reach out and touch his face. Against his will, he nuzzles into her palm before remembering that he needs to make sure she’s not… she needs to be away from his lap. The—his cock—Lil Elvis was not needed here, she was married and he was not that young soldier returning from war any more, no he was merely this fat old man who let himself go and found himself lusting after a fellow church goer’s wife. His young wife.

He misses her words before she repeats them, allowing them to cut through the haze he feels from having her looking up at him happy in his lap. “Your knee! I’m so sorry, Mr. Presley.” Her words are said in a rush as she scrambles to get up, her hand accidentally brushing across his cock before she finally stands up and holds out her hand. “Let me help you up, are you alright—?”

“‘M fine.” Elvis grunts out, as he pulls himself up using Lilly’s hand and his own strength. He hears his knee crack, wincing as it does. “Jus’... Lil–Lil darlin, I gotta, I need to go.”

Needs to get out of her house, needs to not be in front of a woman who has his cock standing at such intense attention that he knows if she looks down she’ll be shocked and horrified at him. He’s committing such an egregious sin even thinking of her this way, even viewing her in the light of a romantic partner, a sexual partner. Viewing her as his—no, he needs to find his way to his truck and to his house to be free of this temptation that he worries he’s about to succumb to. His eyes notice how her face falls but she doesn’t try to stop him, instead frowning and stepping away, smoothing out the bottom of her dress. As if he’s running away—fleeing her presence like all the other men in her life. He moves quicker than he has any right to, right on past her, forgetting about niceties and being a gentleman and wanting to make her happy, shutting the door behind him.

It only takes Lilly a few minutes to realize that she forgot to ask him something about Sunday school and his plans for this week. The question isn’t perhaps important but to her it is. And Mr. Presley has never once made her feel unimportant, so it is without hesitation that she trots outside to where she sees him still in his truck in her driveway muttering angrily to himself while looking down. Her mama had always told her it was rude to eavesdrop and yet here she was doing exactly that as she walked up to the truck, not immediately announcing her presence. She hears curses and mentions of his cock and “she’s a nice young woman, why are ya standin’ at attention like she ain’t married, boy. Like ya ain’t attached to an old man she’s jus’ spendin’ time with to be nice.”

Lilly wants to correct him, wants to tell him that she values his company because it’s better than anything she’s received in so long and yet she doesn’t, instead choosing to come up to his side of the truck and lean against the window before moving just enough that she’s leaning her head inside the truck as well. What she sees—she could not have prepared herself for what she sees.

Feeling his interest in her is one thing that can be explained through the two of them dancing in a way that had her moving against him. It’s a natural response. Feeling it when she collapsed onto his knee, breathless and laughing with enough joy that she wishes she could chase till the ends of the Earth is one thing. Coming out to his truck because she forgot to ask him about his plans for Sunday school this week and seeing that same interest still there was another thing entirely. Lilly tries to keep her eyes focused on his face, tries to not allow her natural position of leaning into the car to make it easier for her to look down between his legs but her eyes drift there against her will. Her eyes drift and the olive of the suit doesn’t allow him to hide what’s going on. Instead it broadcasts exactly what he feels between his legs.

There is a spot slowly growing in size on his jumpsuit. There is a spot where she felt his arousal. There is a wet spot on his jumpsuit for her. No, because of her. Mr. Presley is aroused by her, he’s aroused so much that it’s seeping through his clothing. Even when she was younger and fooling around with Nathan she hadn’t seen someone react to her as strongly as Mr. Presely is right now. The concept of breathing is foreign as she keeps looking down at it and she swears she sees the fabric twitch under her gaze. Somehow that twitch and the accompanying noise—the whimper, maybe—from him is almost like a harsh smack to her back to force the air to leave and enter her lungs.

“Lil—Mrs. Harris.” Elvis’s words are choked out and he thanks God that his stutter didn’t reappear in that moment, the shame of everything making his skin feel flush and warm even as his cock twitches under her gaze, aching and wanting to play with its new friend, its friend it yearns for same as his heart and mind. Damn the societal norms and what’s proper for a good Christian man, he wants, he wants, he needs her to stop looking at it. “I’m—my face is up here.” His hand tightens against his thigh after he says that, almost as if he wants to wince. “What do ya need?”

Her eyes finally wrench themselves from the spot even as his cock twitches yet again, a wave of goodbye to her eyes—to her. What had she needed to tell him? What–What did she need from him other than—? No, it was church. God. It was about Sunday School. A shaky exhale leaves her mouth before she speaks. “I-I just wanted to make sure you–you might want my help again this week with the children? I know that since everyone—all the children seem to have gotten over the tummy trouble that we’ll—you’ll have your hands full and I—”

The more she speaks the more her mind cycles back to what she’s seen, the more her breaths come by shorter and quicker, her chest heaving right near Elvis’s eye level and that… her dress has just enough of a sliver of skin showing he can see them heave with only her brassiere on, it’s threatening to drive him mad, threatening to cause him to reach out the hand he’s fisting into his jumpsuit to touch the skin. To touch her skin and feel if it’s as soft as it is on her arms and her thigh and—

“Yes!” His answer is barked out, sounding more like an order than him merely answering a simple question in the affirmative. Forcing it out is the only thing he can do to calm his mind, to calm his cock, to get Lilly, Mrs. Harris to lean back out of his truck and to remove the temptation of her, her, her from his view. “You—please, I’d love your help, told ya before—the babies love ya.” He coughs, clearing his throat, as he remembers how she looks with a child in her lap, singing lullabies and cooing. It does nothing to help him calm his body, to help him calm his mind. “Is—Was that all ya needed?”

Lilly jumps a little at his bark, her breasts bouncing as she bonks her head against the top of the truck with a soft ouch leaving her mouth. Her hand moves to rub at her head as she pulls back a little, trying to keep her eyes looking firmly at his face versus where it had been. She hears him curse and feels his warm hand touching her head where she had hit it, gingerly investigating if she hurt herself in a major way. A hum and a feather soft touch that she wishes were his lips are what tells her she’s fine, there’s no damage done to her head. She should pull away, should finally stop leaning into his truck, should stop acting as if she’s a wife trying to have the last bit of attention from her husband before he leaves for work but she can’t help it. She can’t help how she wants to stay where she is, just because of how heady it feels to see his attraction—his desire for her. When was the last time she had seen Nathan like this? Lilly couldn’t remember. Couldn’t… the realization sucks the air out of the truck and Lilly feels every bit of heat and humidity in the cabin and around her skin. Her mouth opens and closes before she smiles softly at Mr. Presley. “Yes, that—yes. I just—I had forgotten to ask before so that was all I needed, Mr. Presley.” Her eyes glance back down at his lap to see how his hand is still clenching the fabric of his jumpsuit and how his cock once again twitches at her attention. She feels her skin flush and she shivers slightly when she finally starts to move back.

Elvis looks at her as she leans back, watches her start to stand up straight by his truck and tries to not focus on her chest, tries to not focus how her breath seems shaky as she does this. His mind cannot think about what this means, cannot think about why she’s reacting in this way. She is not—he is not. They are not one. They are Elvis and Lilly. He’s so busy trying to make sure she’s out of his truck that he doesn’t realize she’s leaning back in until he feels the brush of her lips against his cheek. His head turns as if he wants to catch those lips only to realize she’s already left, only to realize she’s back to standing straight, acting as if she didn’t just kiss his cheek and looking so happy he can’t help but be reminded of an actual lily in full bloom.

“I should–I should get goin’. Mr. Harris should be here soon. Wouldn’t want to cause you any trouble.” He looks down at his lap as he turns on the truck and sighs. He needs–he needs to get home, to wash away how dirty he feels in this moment.

“You–you wouldn’t. But, yes, Nathan should be home soon. Thank you for, um, thank you dancing with me, Mr. Presley. I-It was—I haven’t had a good time like that in a bit.” Her upper teeth worry at her lower lip. “Perhaps… Maybe we can do that again some time. The next time I have to call you out.”

“May—you just have to ask, Lil darlin’.” His answer is airy, shocking him in how it sounds almost as if he’s in a tunnel or floating on air at the idea. The truck is finally ready to allow him to back out and he finally lets go of his jumpsuit to wave at her with a tight smile. “Good night, Mrs. Harris.”

Elvis tries to not focus on how she looks in her driveway waving at him as if all her neighbors aren’t peering through the curtains wondering what’s happening next door. He tries to not focus on how she looks so natural waving to him with her arm cupping her waist almost as if she aches for… no, she–she wouldn’t. The heat and the events of the afternoon were causing him to think these dumb thoughts, these dumb desires. A shower would solve his problems once he got home.

His mind wanders in the shower, a consequence of it being one that's meant to relax rather than to just cleanse him of the day's adventures. His mind wanders and rather than settling on the horrors of his memories that he can never get rid of, it settles on her. It settles on the comforting smell of her perfume and how she smells of a soap he swears his mama used to use. It settles on the light he sees in her eyes sometimes that burns brighter than any light bulb or sun or explosion he's ever seen. It settles on the comforting weight of her body against his when he danced with her, lifting her in the air like he was a decade younger and half a person smaller, he thinks. It settles on the weight of her body on his knee, an action that hurt and had him nearly stumbling and falling on top of her, but had him catching himself before he did. It settles on her face, so full of joy and life that it thawed something inside of him. It settles her face with a smile so big he smiles at the memory. It settles on the laugh and the feeling of her kicking her legs while on his knee. It remembers the glimpse of her thigh and—he looks down to see his cock at attention once again, precum already dripping out like he's turned on a faucet and he groans, his fist slamming against the wall as he tries to stop his other hand from wrapping around his cock. He fails miserably and shudders, his eyes shutting and mumbling her name, his mind picturing her sweet hand around it before she puts it in her mouth. His cheek burns when he comes.

Elvis tries to avoid thinking of what happened for the next week. He tries to avoid thinking of how his body can’t forget how it felt to have her notice his arousal, to have her touch his arousal however accidental the action was. He tries to avoid thinking of everything and yet he can’t. It mocks him to the point of near insanity. The guilt of wanting—the guilt of needing—the guilt of wishing has him visiting his mother’s grave one early morning after another restless night of sleep. His joints groan and ache as he sits down next to it.

“I met someone, Mama. I wish she wasn't married. You'd–you'd've loved her. Dances so well, perfect lil housewife. She'd–she'd take care of me like ya did. Take care of ya lil boobie right." Elvis huffs out a laugh. "God hasn't given… Hasn't blessed her wit' a baby and—she'd—it's a cryin' shame. I'd take care of her child any Sunday. Any day."

His mind drifts as he tells her more about Lilly, drifts to a world where it’s their children he takes care of and his stomach flips from the mere idea. Thou shall not covet thy neighbor's wife and thou shall not commit adultery and yet he feels like he’s edging closer and closer to doing it. Feels as if something is going to break inside of him or between them soon. The prayers he sends to God every night are starting to include pleas to give him strength to resist his urges, to allow himself to remain on the correct path and to not allow himself to fall prey to his base desires. To fall prey to sin of the highest order, to wreck a marriage no matter how much pain and destruction it contains, no matter how the pain threatens to burst at the seams.

“Don’t know why… Don’t understand why God is testing me like this. Lilly—Mrs. Harris—Miss Lilly deserves to be happy. Deserves to make a life with her husband and here the Lord wants to test me by putting–by putting her in front of me like this. By… I don’t know if I’m strong enough to resist. I—I wish she had met me before the war. ‘Fore all this.”

Elvis feels a gust of wind in an otherwise calm breeze that settles him down as he tries to work himself up. It settles him down and reminds him of his mother’s listening to him and protecting him even in death. Knowing her, she might be trying to have a talk with the Lord Himself right in this very moment.

“Thank you, Mama,” he whispers as he moves to stand up, running his hand across the top of the headstone. “I’ll see ya tomorrow.”

Something is different about today, another day Nathan where once again told her to send for the man who tempts her, unable or unwilling to mend his own house. It no longer feels like Nathan’s house, and that should be worrisome to her. Instead, something is different in the air between them and Lilly wonders if Elvis can feel it, if he can't feel how her heart is beating out of her chest when their fingers brush against each other as they swap ingredients. If he can't feel how her breath catches every time she looks up at him and sees him staring at her, watching her stir something or sprinkle a bit of salt onto the food. She wonders if he can hear her thoughts, hear what nasty things her brain thinks watching him be so domestic with her. She wonders what it would be like to be his wife instead of Nathan's.

Her hands are dirty, covered in raw juice from the chicken and she knows she needs to wash them before cutting up the collards and the snap peas and—Lord she knows she's making far too much food but perhaps Elvis can take some home and remember today. Remember the care the two of them put into the meal. Her mother had always taught her to put the same amount of love in food as you would put into the person you make it for. Perhaps it should worry her that her heart feels fit to burst with her love for this food. It doesn't take too long for her to wash up and grab the towel and yet it's enough time for Elvis to reach a dish above her in the cabinet by her head. It's enough time to have him press up against her, his stomach a warm and solid yet soft presence behind her. It's enough time for her body to freeze in place, before she feels herself sway back a little and feels her breath leave her mouth all at once. It's enough time that Elvis notices these things, sees his reflection against the glass of the window above the sink and sees Lily's against his. He sees—he sees her eyes shut and her head bow as he feels her body shudder.

A dam—the dam holding back any shred of self control Elvis had breaks in that moment. It breaks the second he feels her body shudder against him, the second he sees her melt into his embrace like she belongs there. A groan leaves his lips unbidden and Lilly, sweet Lilly, whimpers at the sound, her eyes opening and seeing the erotic vision of the two of them still clothed against each other. Her body rocks back even as his arm snakes around her trying to hold her in place, trying to keep her from moving against him and yet it barely works, her body seeks him out, wishes for more than what he’s giving her and he–he can’t oblige. She doesn’t know what she wants. His lips brush against the shell of her ear, his breath a hot dagger against her skin. “You want this?”

A simple question. The most simple question with the most simple answer. A yes or a no determines Elvis’s actions in this moment. A no will have him backing away and apologizing profusely, a yes will have him granting her what she needs, what she wants. It will have him giving into the temptation he should resist but cannot any more. The temptation that the Lord must be putting him through for a reason, some higher plan he doesn’t understand quite yet.

“Elvis, please,” Lilly’s voice is a whisper but Elvis hears his name finally fall from her lips and hears how desperate her please is and before he realizes it his hand moves to unzip his jumpsuit to reach down at the bottom, to try free his cock as Lilly starts to whine, wishing for more. Wishing for his touch.

As her chest heaves with quick breaths that Elvis tries to steady, a hand snakes up her body until it reaches her chest, covering so much of it that it ignites something primal within him. He’s always known he’s a large man and yet the way he sees her breasts rise and fall with his hand covering one is to know another thing entirely. He almost moves it away before Lilly stops him, her own hand covering his. There’s a tug of his hand forcing it into the gap between her dress and the skin of her neck and collarbone and Elvis can’t help but oblige her desire even as the heat from her body threatens to set the whole of his hand on fire.

“I gotcha, Lil darlin'. Elvis's gotcha." His words are practically inaudible, they're said so low and deep from within his chest, but Lilly seems to get the message as her breaths start to slow, beginning to match pace with Elvis’s. He’s got her and she can relax. He’s got her and he’s going to take care of the ache inside of her. The ache she’s felt every day she’s seen him since he fixed her oven. Lilly’s brain swears it hears something about him needing to pull down his jumpsuit fully, something about the damn buttons and zippers and she feels her mouth moving to offer to help before she feels the heat of what has to be his bare chest against her dress.

In another time and in another place he would have her help him, have her lift up her dress and help him with her undergarments but the way she sways and moves against him has him realizing he can’t trust her to do such a thing, he can’t trust her to be able to help him the way he needs her to. It’s not a problem and a selfish part of him thanks the Lord for it, thanks the Lord that she won’t turn around and that she won’t have her hand brush up against his unclothed cock. His foreskin won’t scare her off. He won’t scare her off with the intensity of his arousal and of how his cock is already dripping his precum onto her kitchen floor. It takes some maneuvering and he leans against her, pushing her against the sink, his body practically covering her as he lifts up her skirt and manages to pull her underwear down. Her vagina—her pussy—her flower is glistening just from the touches he’s given her. Nathan truly had been forsaking the wife he promised to love and cherish in the house of God if this is all it took to see this level of pleasure from Lilly. His fingers move to touch, to just feel the slick of her arousal. The cry she lets out nearly has him jumping away and yet he knows he can’t, knows after hearing that noise from her mouth he needs to hear it again. He wants to wrench it from her over and over until she’s hoarse.

Elvis takes his time sinking into the wet heat between her legs, he’s seen the pictures of Nathan and seen the man in person once before. There is no conceivable way she is used to someone of his size inside of her and he'd be damned before he ever injured her in any way. Let alone when he’s—no, he won’t think of that, won’t think of anything other than treating her as she deserves to be treated by a man. By her own husband but he’ll do—he can do what her husband won’t. His eyes can’t help but watch even as his mind tells him not to. His eyes can’t help but watch how her hole stretches around him, trying to take him in bit by bit. The memory sears itself into his brain and he knows in that moment he won’t likely be able to forget this, won’t be able to walk away from this unscathed.

Her body feels full, between her legs feels full, she feels so full even as she knows there has to be more. He’s as long as her husband but Nathan’s never filled her like this. It’s almost as if she can’t breathe, the shock to her system too great. She wants to tell Elvis this, wants to tell him this is too much, she doesn’t know if she can handle this and all that comes out of her mouth is noises she’s never heard. Whimpers and whines as he pushes in slowly but surely, his grip on her never faltering, the reassurances never stopping. He’s got her. He’ll have her through all of this. He’s got her even as he bottoms out inside her, a growl of pleasure coming from deep within his chest. The hair on his stomach is against her backside, rubbing against her bare skin in a way that shouldn’t serve to heighten her pleasure and yet it’s all her mind can focus on- it’s the only thing that is bringing her back to the earth, back to the present moment. His thrusts are gentle… almost slow and inviting in the way he pulls out, the stretch of his cock erring just enough on the side of comfortable despite how she feels almost as if it’s catching on something inside of her but that can’t be true, Nathan’s never had that problem, why would Elvis be having it despite how he possesses more girth.

Elvis wishes this was different, wishes he could have her against the sink with her facing him but that’s—this isn’t about what he wants and desires. This is about Lilly, isn’t it? This is about making sure she knows how someone in this world wants to treat her with the love and care he’s trying to treat her with. This is about making sure the pleasure she feels is almost too much, that it threatens to overwhelm her. This is about her and making sure she is happy and taken care of by him. His head had moved down, kissing at her neck, one hand trying to fondle her breasts while the other hand was resting firmly against her lower stomach, practically cradling where her uterus is—not that he realizes. He knows his body isn’t equipped to last too much longer, his age and everything slowing him down just that little bit and yet the slap of his stomach, the slap of his skin against Lilly’s has his thrusts getting stronger as she tries to thrust back, needy in ways that—from the sound of her sighs—she’s not used to.

“More.” A sob she tries to choke back. “Please.”

The only thing he has to give her is his come, that’s all he has left from his thrusting, he can’t go any deeper, can’t stretch that little pink hole any more than it already is. He can’t give her anything else that isn’t already there as he hears the squelch between the two of them. Hears how his cock is welcomed by her body, how she’s wet and it’s only been made worse by his precum and he–he has to look up. He has to see the picture they make in the window if only for his own sanity, if only to perhaps settle his roaring mind.

A second too late he realizes he shouldn’t have looked. A second too late he realizes that seeing the line of her throat as she leaned her head back against his shoulder in pleasure is too much. A second too late he feels his hips stutter as he feels himself coming, feels his come fill the spaces his cock isn’t filling inside of her, adding even more liquid between them and making the noises louder. Her mouth is open as she pants and as he’s looking in the window, watching as the rays from the sunset illuminate the pair of them in an almost heavenly glow, Lilly looks up and catches his eyes.

Her eyes tighten just a bit as she realizes what’s happened, as she realizes he’s had his release. His hips aren’t moving as he pants behind her, trying to recuperate and trying to catch his breath. Her eyes tighten and her shoulders start to follow suit. This—this is something she knew, this is an outcome she knows. This is where Elvis pulls out of her and leaves her aching and wanting. This is where Elvis and Nathan are the exact same two men when it comes to her desires and needs. She can’t look, can’t watch as he pulls out of her and leaves her to be slumped over the kitchen sink. Minutes pass and yet he’s still inside of her, he’s still inside of her and she can feel half thrusts against her backside, his release and her arousal and whatever else squishing and squelching as he moves. Some trickles down her leg as she shivers in anticipation at what’s happening. There isn’t a reference point, she has nothing to compare this to and yet it feels so right. This feels how it’s supposed to be.

Elvis can feel she hasn’t come, he knows—he may not know her body inside and out but he knows how women tick, he knows if he were to pull out of her he’d be no better than—he wouldn’t have done what he set out to do against this sink. It’s as if his body and his cock know this, too, and through a grace or an act of God he can feel himself firming back up the more he thrusts into her, the obscene noises between her legs spurring him on. Her gasp sounds like a plea and a hymn all in one. She hadn’t been prepared for this, he can tell in how her movements are scrambled as she starts to rock with him. Could it be that she was chasing after her release? Could it be that she just needed that extra push? He’s already in so deep and his thrusts are going deeper and deeper but the angle, the angle is all wrong.

“Elv—” Lilly starts before he shushes her softly, his hand moving to between her legs as she keens softly. He doesn’t go where she feels he needs to, where she can feel her body throbbing and she needs him to understand that he’s missing it—he’s missing where she needs him to be but that’s when she hears it.

He’s cooing, crooning, he’s talking so gently to her, praising her as she tries to stand on her toes, trying to change the angle. If only she was higher up. If only she could allow him even deeper, deep enough for him to be where she feels she needs him to be. A whine leaves her lips as his hand still doesn’t move to help and settles on her thigh, grabbing it and squeezing it as he lifts it up onto the counter gently as he can.

“Let Elvis take care of ya darlin'. You're feelin' something, ain't ya? Somethin' right there, right? You just need help with it, don't ya?” His words have the fire growing inside of her, have her whimpering and nodding because yes, yes, she feels something, she feels that there’s something there. What that is she doesn’t know, only knows that he’s giving it to her, he’s coaxing it from her as she feels him so deep inside she wonders how he fits.

Her hand moves down to between her legs, wanting to touch him, it, herself only to have his hand that had still been fondling her breasts, playing with her nipples to swat it away with a small tsk, “no, no, Lilly, let Elvis—let me take care of you the way you need. Do—can I touch you there? Help you rub yourself there?”

A groan, high pitched and almost anguished leaves her mouth as his fingers finally move between her legs, finally reach the part between her legs that throbs in time with her heart. The sob that escapes her mouth comes from deep within her, a release before he’s even properly touched her. He’s got her. Elvis has got her. He’ll take care of her.

Elvis is taking care of her as his fingers, calluses and all, brush against her clit, slowly but with such intent that Lilly finds herself arching against Elvis, the strength of his body behind her making arching forward impossible. Her pussy clenches around Elvis’s cock, fluttering while still trying to milk him for all he’s worth. It’s hard to tell who’s making which noise as he thrusts into her, chasing his second release inside of her, never thinking of the lack of protection between them. His groans and her moans and their breaths are a symphony of sounds echoing through the kitchen, his glasses askew on his nose as he watches Lilly lean forward whining, almost as if she’s passing out. His own body follows hers, leaning against her, the sweat between them fusing them together as much as their come is.

Their breath is the only sound in the room.

#elvis presley #big daddy elvis #spark universe #elvis presley x oc #big daddy and lil darlin'#elvis x lilly #elvis presley fanfiction #elvis presley fanfic #elvis fanfiction #elvis fanfic #elvis x reader #crawfever adjacent #elvis

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eating-plastic · 9 months

Text

Out of the Rain: Willy x fem!reader SMUT

Warnings: NSFW, smut (MINORS AND AGELESS BLOGS DNI), age gap (older man-younger woman. Reader is +18! Get outta here, creeps!), AFAB!reader, p in v sex, unprotected sex (remember to use protection irl people!), creampie, rough sex, oral (fem receiving), fingering, light bondage (you know this man would be good at tying knots😏) , dom!Willy, sub!reader, swearing, secret relationship, sweet!Willy before and after the deed, probably some grammatical errors

Word Count: 2344 words

A/N: Who wants some smut? I certainly do! Welcome to my second nsfw fic with a new old man. I've been a bit of a lurker in the Stardew Valley fandom for a while now, and it's a shame that the game has such handsome older men that you can't romance. Oh, well. That's what fanfiction is for! To anyone that feels the same way as me, this is for you. Enjoy!

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Weather just loved to take you by surprise. Whenever it looked like rain, it would suddenly become bright and sunny as you left the farm with your umbrella and raincoat. Whenever it was sunny, you would be forced to dunk into buildings or run back home in your soaked clothes. It seems like mother nature just loves to make you feel ridiculous.

Today was no different. You decided to head to the beach for a bit of fishing in a pretty, teal sundress and hat. There wasn't a cloud in the sky and you were looking for a good excuse to get lost in your thoughts, as fishing often provided you. You usually reflected on plans you had, but your mind kept on drifting to the Flower Festival that was coming up next week. You were planning something a bit big with a certain someone after you and him had a small discussion about it.

The idea made you giddy and nervous at the same time. You typically never cared about what people thought, but now you were in a town with what you perceived as a smaller number of people that wouldn't be so judgmental about your relationships. Then again, life was too short to keep things like that secret.

Just your luck though, as soon as you had found your spot and were about to cast your line, you felt a raindrop on your nose.

'Oh no,' you look up at the sky and sigh at the sight of dark storm clouds. 'Of course. Yoba, why?'

Fortunately, you had a saving grace not too far away and it was just sprinkling, now. You just had to get there before he left for the saloon.

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The clock struck 5, and Willy had finished tidying up his shop a bit. His back was turned away from the door to look for his umbrella, as the rain was now coming down hard. He didn't turn his back even as he heard the door open.

"Sorry, shop's closed up. You'll have to trek back here, tomorrow," he said nonchalantly.

"Uh, Willy?"

At the sound of your voice, a smile forms on his face and he turns around to greet you, only for his face to drop when he sees you.

"Yoba, lass! You look like you washed up on shore!"

You were entirely soaked, with your sundress clinging to you like a second skin, your shoes being flooded, and your hat having been blown away in the wind, causing your face and hair to lose what little protection it could have provided.

Willy quickly made his way over to you, wrapping his rough hands around your arms and rubbing them to try and warm you up.

"You're shaking like a leaf, love. What were you doing out in a storm like that?"

"I didn't know," you say in-between your shivering. "Can you walk me back to my farm?"

"That's too far, dear. You're better off staying over at my place before you get a cold," he takes your hands into his own and raises them to his mouth to blow warm air onto them. "Here, let me go get my umbrella, and we'll get you dry in no time."

He moves back to where he was searching, and you instantly miss his presence. Willy was like a natural heater, which your shaking figure needed. You tried to replicate his actions to keep warm, but they didn't really help much.

"Aha! There you are," he presents his umbrella and quickly moves back to your side. "Alright, love. Let's get you warmed up."

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

You sat close to the fireplace within Willy's humble abode, while he went to fetch you a towel and one of his shirts. When he returns to you, he lets out a sympathetic huff. He kneels down beside you and wraps you up in a dark green towel he had snatched from his bathroom.

"There you go, lass. Just take it easy, now," he presses a kiss to your temple, which you hum at. "Got a dry shirt for you by the sofa. Change into it when you feel ready, okay?"

You nod and lean into the old fisherman, which causes him to let out a chuckle of endearment.

"Now, then. Why don't we get you something warm to drink, hm?" he stands up to head into his kitchen. You continue to stare at the hypnotic dance of the flames before you. Mother nature once again made a fool out of you, and now you were feeling guilty that you were currently keeping your older boyfriend from the saloon.

"Here you go, dear. A nice cup of tea to warm your pretty, lil' self up," Willy hands you a mug, before sitting down beside you with a glass of whiskey in his other.

"You're drinking before heading to the saloon?" you ask.

"Not heading to the saloon, tonight," he wraps one of his arms around you to pull you closer. "Gotta take care of my girl, don't I?"

"But weren't you planning on hanging out with Elliot this week?"

"It's just one day, lass. He'll understand," that makes you confused.

"Does...does he know about us?"

"He's smart. I think he suspects something," this causes you to tense up, but Willy squeezes your shoulder reassuringly. "There is nothing to worry about, love. Elliot's a nice lad, not one to make nasty comments about things like this."

You hoped he was right. You and him knew your relationship was a bit unconventional even when it was platonic, so you agreed to keep it under wraps. Of course, the more you keep quiet about something, the more you wished you didn't. That's why you both came to the agreement that you would make your relationship public at the Flower Festival, promising to try to not let any scrutiny from your fellow villagers get under your skin.

"I hope you're right," you snuggle into Willy's neck.

"Everyone's gonna know eventually," a smirk forms on his face. "It's gonna be nice finally introducing you as my beautiful, little skipper."

You squeal as he begins to pepper your neck in kisses, giggling as his beard tickles your soft skin. Before he pulls away, you feel a tinge of a familiar warmth form in your stomach, beginning to crave a different kind of heat. Still, you try to push those thoughts aside and continue to enjoy the sweet cuddling, occasional kisses to your cheek or temple, and your beverage.

When Willy gets up to take your mug and refill his glass however, those thoughts come back, and you realize just how uncomfortable your wet dress is. So you stand up, letting the towel fall from your shoulders, and push the straps of your dress down.

The soak fabric pools around your ankles leaving you in just your damp panties.

Willy almost drops his second glass of whiskey when he returns to you. He quickly composes himself though, and smirks while watching how the golden glow of the fire illuminates you.

"And here I thought you were freezing," he jests and makes his way towards you.

"I am. I just want to warm up in a different way," you explain. "Besides, my dress was getting uncomfortable."

Willy sits down on the sofa behind you, slowly sipping his glass and not taking his eyes off you. He then sets the glass down on a side table before uttering a command to you.

"Come here, love."

You turn and straddle his waist, quickly being met with something hard under your ass. It amazed you how quickly Willy could get worked up, especially at his age, but you weren't going to complain. As soon as you're comfortable, he grabs the back of your head and roughly smashes your lips into his.

He wasn't always a rough man during sex, most notably when you both first started, but ever since he made his rougher side known, you've found yourself craving it more. You moan at the feeling of his tongue forcing its way into your mouth and his calloused hands explores your body, grabbing and groping whatever he wants. As his lips move from your own to your neck, you start grinding yourself against him. He groans at the feeling, before threading his thick fingers into your hair and yanking your head back to look at him.

"Stay here, love. I'm gonna go grab something," Willy's voice is low and he pats your rear to get you to move off of him. You sit on the sofa and let out a huff of frustration while he disappears to find what he was looking for. You hate the lack of friction in-between your legs, and rub your thighs together in a feeble attempt to relieve it.

When the older man returns, the sight of him makes you whine. His hat was gone and his dark gray hair looked messy, as if he was rubbing his hands through it. His shirt was also gone, revealing a torso covered in small scars, salt and pepper hair that dusted his chest, and a soft stomach. What really thrills you though, is when your eyes fall upon the short rope in his right hand. He slowly approaches to sit beside you, like a predator cornering his prey.

"Wrists together, lass," he asserts in a low voice. You do what you are told. With your wrists bound, Willy pushes you down onto the couch and wastes no time to pull your wet panties from your body.

"My girl wants to get warmed up, huh?" he pushes your arms above your head, before landing his hands under your thighs. "I'll warm her up, alright."

Your legs are spread apart and Willy lowers his head to place a kiss to your lower lips, slick with your arousal. You gasp and squirm underneath him, trying to undo the binds on your wrists. He chuckles at this, the vibrations only adding to the pleasure, before dragging his tongue from your dripping entrance to your clit. His actions are slow, almost torturing, which causes you to whine and try to grind yourself against his face.

His hands move from your thighs to your hips, holding them steady and pausing your feeble attempts at trying to get off.

"Aw, what's the matter, love? Am I not warming you up enough?" Willy chuckles darkly at your desperate face. You shake your nod and whimper.

"No, I'm not? Well then...let's see if this works," his lips find your clit and harshly suck on the sensitive bud, causing you to moan loudly. He then moves one of his hands from your waist to your pussy, shoving two of his thick fingers inside of you.

You cry out at the feeling of being stretched out, tears prickling in the corners of your eyes. You continue to squirm, desperately wanting to grab something as a brace, but being unable to because of your bound wrists.

Willy continues to suck on your clit and scissor his fingers within you, even after you warned him that you were going to cum. He wanted you to make a mess on his mouth and digits. Your moans become screams as your orgasm grew closer and closer, until you couldn't hold back anymore.

The old fisherman in-between your legs eagerly laps up your juices, wetting his beard without a care in the world. He only stops once you beg him to, wanting your sensitive pussy to get a break. Of course, that break only lasts a couple of seconds.

The next thing you know, Willy flips your body over so you are now laying on your stomach. He impatiently undoes his belt and yanks down his pants and boxers, causing his thick cock to spring free. Your hips are then in his grasp, quickly lining your wet hole up with the tip, and pushing himself all the way inside of you.

You sob out at being so harshly filled and stretched out. You love the stinging sensation, and you only love it more as Willy roughly fucks his dick in and out of you. The pain and pleasure melt together in a way that makes you feel intoxicated, and you can’t help but thank mother nature for chasing into the older man’s arms, home, and onto his length.

"Yeah? You like that. love? Huh? Fuck!," Willy groans out, his thrusts becoming sloppy.

"Ye-ah! Yes! Yes! I-I do...I'm-hah!" you try to announce your imminent release, but the feeling of rough fingertips against your clit causes your sentence to fall apart.

"You wanna cum, lass? Go ahead. Cum all over my cock," Willy lets out through gnashed teeth.

At that, you cum hard on his dick. The feeling of your pussy squeezing his length causes the older man to follow suit, flooding your cunt with his seed. He then falls onto his forearms in exhaustion, but still trying not to crush you.

The only sounds heard within the home now, was the crackling of the fire and rain hitting the roof. Once Willy gains his breath, he pulls out of you, undoes the rope around your wrists, and moves so he is laying on the sofa and you're laying on top of him. One of his hands rubs circles into your back, while the other holds one of your wrists so he can gently rub and kiss the welts left by your bonds.

"Well, love, did that warm you up?" a tired laugh is pulled from you, and a kiss is placed onto the older man's lips.

"Yeah, I'd say it did more than enough," you smile. He smiles back, until he notices that the rain outside had started to slow.

"You staying over for the night?"

"Of course," you nuzzle your face into Willy's neck, getting comfortable. "Besides, I don't think I'll be walking until tomorrow anyways."

"Fair enough," he says after chuckling. He then tightens his hold on you, and places a kiss on your head.

"I love you, Y/N."

"I love you too, Willy."

#stardew valley #stardew valley x reader #sdv willy #sdv willy x fem!reader #sdv willy x reader #x reader #rita writes

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heyidkyay · 2 months

Text

1:02

'This song is about a girl [friend] that I had. She was beautiful, absolutely beautiful. I loved her but she didn’t feel the same way. I don’t even think she knew I loved her. This song is about the times I had with her. As she and I became close friends, we had traditions. It was kinda like our thing, y'know? We’d somehow always coincidentally be out at exactly 1:02AM, so that was our thing. Now whenever I’m awake at 1:02AM, I think of her and I let her go.'

102 (Acoustic) - The 1975

She doesn't know.

Doesn’t know what it does to him when she thieves the cigarette right from out of his mouth. Doesn’t know how hard his heart pounds when she settles in closer, when her knee touches his own. Doesn’t see the way he watches her grin, eyes always catching.

Doesn’t realise how far gone he is now. She doesn’t know.

“Guess what time it is then.” She says to him, smiling coyly while her eyes dance over the expression he wears. They’re at the common again, she’s sat close enough that her arm brushes his whenever she rants, and he can’t find it in him to pull away. It's a little masochistic.

He gifts her a glance, then pretends to look away because what she doesn’t know is that he can still see her just in the corner of his eye. The corner of his mind. “Ask a better question.”

“Awh, come on!” She complains around a hearty chuckle, nudging him with her elbow just as he takes another drag. He’d brought ten on his way over, only had about four left now. The thought had him wondering how far he could stretch them, how far he could keep her for. “It’s our thing, don’t ruin it by bein’ a prat.”

He snorts, blowing out smoke with it, then he rolls his eyes. “One, oh three.”

She narrows her eyes in turn, “You’re actually a proper dickhead.”

He grins, can feel the stretch of it even as tries to dampen it. She reaches out then, stealing the fag for herself. She looks maddening in that moment, in this light, and he hates himself for thinking it, and for the way he watches her lips wrap around his cigarette, cause he knows it’s the only that way theirs would ever meet. Around the butt of a shared smoke.

“Wanna know who I saw earlier anyway, when I was out with our Kirsty?” She continues on, always so oblivious to his state of mind.

“Go on then.” He replies, picking at a fray in his jeans to keep from wanting to touch. Though he can already guess who.

“Fucking Dean.” And yeah, there it is. He prods her for his cigarette back and she gives him it, already yapping away again, completely unaware of how his entire being has slumped at the name.

Dean Willis was a right cunt. A mug amongst mugs, in truth. He’d been in the year above them at school, threw a couple good parties in his time, and had played for the local rugby team. He’d moved down south to try and make it big, but he’d heard Dean was back home when talking with Ross the other day. He hadn’t said a thing to her about it, hoping that the prick was just stopping in to see his mum.

“.. and he had the nerve to just smile when he passed us by, said ‘alright’ and then carried on!" Matty tunes back in to hear her complain, smiling softly when he sees the way her nose has scrunched up unhappily and how she’s now gesturing this way and that. “You believe that? After what we had and what he did, he just swans back in with an alright! He’s a right cunt is what he is.”

Ha. He takes another drag before passing it back off to her.

“What you smiling about anyway?” She tuts, rolling her eyes at him before she finishes off the embering end.

“Nothing,” He answers, still smiling yes, he knows, but he can’t seem to help it. “Just like seeing you all riled up.”

She glares but concedes easily enough, the beginnings of a smile wilting her stern frown. She knocks their shoulders together, “He just pisses me off is all. That, and the fact that he’s back for good. Upped and left without a second thought to what it’d do to-”

He stopped listening after that. Back for good, she’d said. What the fuck did that mean for them then, for him? Back for good. He was stuck on it.

By the time he made it in that night, it was gone three. He’d wandered about outside for a bit after dropping her off home, chuckling away to himself when he’d watched her shuffle up to her bedroom window, before finally slipping his way through his own front door.

His dad is away in Spain again, filming, but he knows his mum's around, he’d seen her earlier that morning, so he has to be quiet getting in. Though it isn't all that hard, not when he’s had years of practice.

He makes his way through the kitchen, grabbing at whatever leftovers his mum had left when she’d gone out for dinner and then shuffles his way up the stairs. Lou’s room is right by the landing so he treads a little lighter there and closes his own bedroom door with a quiet click, glad for the ability to finally shuck off his jeans.

By the time he’s stuck the stereo on low and settled himself on the end of his bed to eat, he's all but ready to pass the fuck out. Knows he shouldn’t though, that he should have something more than a pack of fags for tea, but he hardly ever feels tired. And it’s the drowsy sort, the kind he knows will knock him out instead of coercing him under the covers only to plague him with another fit of insomnia.

He chews on a few bites, his stomach hungry for it but the thought of sleep turning it all to mush in his mouth. He gets up to throw it down onto his desk, figures he’ll deal with it tomorrow or when it gets all grim and his mum complains about a smell.

But before he can turn around again, he spots the shirt hanging off the back of the chair there. The same one she’d stolen and sported the last time she’d been round. When she’d fallen asleep on his bed whilst watching a film and he’d been left to keeping quiet in the dark in hopes not to wake her.

He stills for a long second, then almost unconsciously sees his hand reaching out to grasp it. Her perfume flutters at the movement, filling his head, and so he doesn’t really feel his feet start to move, or the way he falls to sit down on the edge of his bed. Contemplating what to do with it, to do with himself.

An itch gnaws at him, the voice in the back of his head telling him to phone her because it simply wants to hear her voice. But he knows she’ll be asleep, it’s closer to four than three now.

He clutches at the shirt and thinks back to tonight, how she’d complained for ages and he’d just listened, to the promise of her buying the first round this Friday when they all went out, to her shoes and how they’re fucking worn to bits but also her only favourites.

Sleep crowds the edges of his mind but all he’s got are words now filling up his head, so he keeps the shirt close, even as he gets up to grab his guitar and then settle back on the bed. Lets it sit in his lap whilst he plucks at strings. Thoughts of her filling his room.

“You, you, you..”

#song inspired #the 1975 #matty healy #the 1975 band #Matty Healy x #102 #fic #one shot #matty 1975 #matty x you #reader #pining #a little angsty #y/n #1975 #the 1975 song

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tradetobest · 3 months

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do u still think abt the golf au bc i would pay billions for you to infodump about it…

YEs i love thinking about this au so much thank you so much for asking me about it anon ilysm....

(under the cut bcs it feels a bit long to me)

this was my first act as a hockey fan it has such a special place in my heart.... i thought about it while i was in class and sorted everyone into categories Definitively. thank you for making me do this. of course some of the things i have these guys do you Shouldnt Do on a golf course, and like this is Super unrealistic but i love having my fun ok…. just Good Vibes… (also, im generalizing “clubhouse” as both people who work as servers at the course’s restaurant and the people who help golfers with carts/clubs/etc and all that. i did Not work there At All so it just makes it easier for me to loop them…. imagine they just like rotate around or something….)

OK… so…. starting with the two who started it all, mitch and auston.

i dont ever think i ever totally explained what mitch and auston's roles were besides surface level stuff so!! mitch is a member of the turf team at the golf course, which are basically the group of people who go around and cut the grass and do the landscaping and all of that. like ice crew, but just for the golf course.

auston is like. i don't know. some sort of moderately rich guy. maybe he's Auston Matthews or maybe he's just rich, i have no clue. all that matters is he golfs. maybe he's a professional golfer. of course, i imagine everything in this au as happening at my course, but tbh it works at any course...

(now, of course, one of mitch's friends works at the clubhouse, and tells mitch every time auston is sitting there looking for him... willy nylander youre a real one)

just imagine mitch driving around a work truck with a rake, a bucket of sand, and a leaf blower in the back and auston (dressed prim, and proper, white pants white shoes white hat purple shirt all nice) literally falling all over himself to talk to him. loitering all over just Hoping that Maybe mitch will drive by and he can rope him into conversation. meanwhile when mitch sees willy he’s like “yeah auston’s so cute but like idk if he’d ever go for me” and willy is like “yeah you have no fucking idea”

i used to have to do this task which was just. watering all of the flowers near the clubhouse and i can imagine mitch doing that and like surroptitiously glancing over his shoulder to check if auston is around or watching or something… just some good old fluffy pining yk…

i have a like Whole Ass procreate file w everyone sorted into lil groups so here’s some little tidbits …

i think i mightve talked abt this in another post but sid (crosby) and claude (giroux) both work for turf and are both Incredibly Competitive about it in the most insane way ever… im talking “you take half the course i take half the course and we see who finishes faster” (starting at 6am ish) mowing competitions and theyre both done at 8 on the dot…. insane people shit…. they did it with bunkers ONCE and claude tripped and fell into a bunker and broke his wrists so they do not do that anymore o7….

in honour of my boss feeling like my dad i put patty marleau and matt martin in turf…. they do rough mowing in honour of the two guys at my course who Only did rough mowing…. big ass machine

the thing to know about guys who are higher up on the turf echelon is that not only do they all know each other but they also went to school for it… turf school…. all this to say top grad of turf school Sidney Crosby got some little ducklings and thats how Connor McDavid (top turf school grad) got to this course…. we love that for him

shoutout to other guys who also have fun little romance stories but who arent mitch and auston, including but not limited to:

connor mcdavid, who keeps getting his work paused by these three golfers, which always makes him grit his teeth and smile softly at them, because Holy Shit Let Me Get Back To My Job Please. matthew tkachuk (son of Great Golfer Keith Tkachuk) seems to take joy in interrupting connor while he’s in the middle of something, jack eichel always catches him bent over and sweaty trying to shove the wheels back onto a greens mower for one of the kids, and leon draisaitl stands on the side to wait until connor’s at least done a pass to ask him something. matthew jack and leon can be seen at the clubhouse after they finish a round, head in hands, because connor is oblivious to their flirting. maybe they should try learning the names of different types of grass.

jamie drysdale (uni student staying with his grandparents over the summer) always comes to the clubhouse for breakfast with them, which absolutely delights bored server trevor zegras… too bad the summer has to end some time! lol! anyway

tyler bertuzzi (turf) seems to always have dirt under his fingernails, some mulch and woodchips stuck to his shorts, scuffs on his knees, and a dirty ass sweater on. dylan larkin (clubhouse) finds him INCREDIBLY endearing.

brady tkachuk (son of Great Golfer Keith Tkachuk) when he’s not driving his brother around so he can try and find connor (“seriously, matthew, he looks busy” “no, it’ll be fine, look—”) is smiling sweetly at the fumbling german waiter who always engages leon in rapidfire german conversation. tim, his nametag says, and brady would love to have more than a few word conversation with him. maybe he should interrupt leon’s brooding time with matthew and jack and ask him to teach him some german.

if you want to communicate with the turf team’s mechanic and don’t want to be asked “where sid? tell him—” you should bring sid with you to see him. however, if you do bring sid, you will have to watch him and said mechanic do Weird Flirting for a good 30 mins before your question is answered. this is outside of the Weird Flirting they do anyway, all the time. if a day goes by without sid twirling his hair kicking his feet over some shit geno said to him earlier in the day has the day really gone by?

followup turf/clubhouse Flirting (I CANT BELIEVE I ALMOST FORGOT TO MENTION THEM IYKYK) tyler seguin, Pretty Boy Galore, and his loud, bubbly, and all consuming obsession with quiet doe-eyed turf worker jamie benn. now thats what i call oblivious. “yeah i flirt with jamie all the time but he just thinks its a joke haha he couldnt want me i know that like have you seen him?” “yeah tyler flirts with me but he’s just joking he doesn’t mean that he could never like me like that have you seen him?” and all that good good shit… tyler sees jamie take off his shirt once because it got soaked and loses his mind.

jack hughes (brother of turf guys luke and quinn) absolutely has the biggest crush on his coworker, fellow clubhouse worker nico hischier. once nico got wet in the rain and soaked through his white work shirt and jack almost lost his fucking mind. absolutely twirling his hair kicking his feet.

both pairs of bruins that i like (bergeron/marchand and swayman/ullmark) are fun little golf tandems. me when i get a hole in one and hug and twirl around a kiss my golf partner. what if we kissed in the front seat of a golf cart. and all that.

finally… honourable mention to john tavares (golfer, has his own labelled golf cart at a course in toronto… love that for you king….) kris letang (turf) and marc-andré fleury (clubhouse) who get to listen to sid moan and groan about geno, and self jarvis (turf) who is completely out of place among the other teams included in this au but i love him so hes here lmfaoo

anyway. yeah. i have LOTS of ideas about this au if you couldnt tell and anon i am SO happy you asked abt it… sorry it took me a few days i have to write like most days for school this semester and its leaving me Very Little time to do anything but reblog posts and draw matty and woller. MATTY AND WOLLER. oh my god i cant believe i almost forgot them uhhh…..

matthew knies and joseph woll are….. both turf workers maybe… yeah. call that lets talk while filling divots on the course or raking bunkers. what if we kissed in the rain while shovelling dirt and seed mix into small holes over and over again. Them

OK IM DONE FR NOW. thank you so much sorry there are no visuals i have written this mostly in class now but if you want to know more or if you want me to elaborate on a specific dynamic (or add some people, because god knows these are just the guys i know/like) or want visuals for anything i can 100% provide, might just take a bit again haha… ilysm anon you made my week

#asks #golf course au #im not fucking tagging everyone lmfaoo theres no way #but thank you again anon… ilysm

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bengiyo · 9 months

Text

Laws of Attraction Ep 4 Stray Thoughts

Last week, ARSON. DROWNING. Charn set fire to Tinn's house while his grandmother and he were still inside just to frame Thantai, and then thought everything was okay because of a pizza party like an American elementary school teacher! Meanwhile, Thantai got choked out and almost drowned by his dad because he let himself get recorded by a teddy bear that has become the most important plot token.

Unrealistic. You cannot put girls in the same room after a fight. I worked with middle schoolers.

Look at this young paladin in the making.

Damn, Tinn. Protect your face.

Of course you knew these mofos had guns. How did he think this was going to go?

Ooh, a new wrinkle from the handler.

The sister is acting her ass off with the eyes in this scene as Chan reverts to radical honesty.

Tinn's grandmother reminds me of my own.

Absolutely everyone is chewing on the scenery in this show. I love it.

That glint is back in Chan's eye. What does he have planned next.

This evil man forced this case into his gardener? That's fucked.

Chan is gonna fuck the bodyguard, I just know it.

Not Chan wearing white pants.

Oh lord he replaced that ugly ass shirt.

Chan said, "Potion seller! Enough of these games!"

I bet it was Chan's dude who betrayed them. I bet it was for unrequited gay reasons.

Not Chan in wrinkled white pants, a shirt with its own big ass tie that looks like a sloppy bunny ears knot, and a black jacket. What in the hell.

Oh shit Thantai hit that floor hard.

Also, Thantai's pants are too tight.

Beer told on himself when he got excited about those potential clips.

Beer and Ice? Gross.

I respect Beer's game.

I suppose they have to absolve Thantai of Ton Khaw's murder if they want us to feel bad for him about his dad. He's still a piece of shit though.

Not Chan going for a goddamn pinky touch. He couldn't even pretend about it and went immediately for the whole hand.

What in the Willy Wonka's Chocolate Factory is the way Chan always opens these doors?

These two are so ridiculous.

I'm having so much fun with the silly gay energy of this show.

#laws of attraction #thai bl #bl series #laws of attraction meta #Ben watches

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mlchaelwheeler · 2 years

Text

Anyways, every day I become more and more convinced Mike has a stack of letters written to Will signed "Love, Mike" that will make an appearance in S5.

There's too much evidence:

Mike supposedly only writing to El (why not Will? Unless- *gunshot*)

Letters in general being brought up a lot throughout S4 ("El has a book of letters from you," El pulling out Mike's letters and throwing them at him, "I have gone to become a superhero. From, El," Mike throwing El's letter in the trash)

Letter to Willy being the title of [tender, emotional music]

Mike being the writer of the group, yet he can't write Will a letter (an interesting parallel because Will, the artist, used a painting to convey his feelings for Mike... so wouldn't Mike use a letter to convey his feelings for Will?) (inspired by @frodohaven 's post)

Mike's pocket over his heart shaped like a sideways envelope (also an arrow)... Mike being Will's heart... that jacket being made specifically for Mike by the costume designer

Mike hardly spoke to Will since S3, yet he had one of his drawings hanging up over his bed so he was still thinking about him a lot... what better way as a writer than to write down his thoughts?

The obvious parallel that would make Mike's feelings clear to the audience when his letters to Will are signed "Love, Mike" since S4 made a big point to reinforce (1) Mike's difficulty with telling El he loves her, and (2) "From, Mike"

The possibility that even if Mike confessed to Will, he might not believe him at first, until Mike pulls out the stack of letters and says, "see for yourself"

Or the possibility for a superiorly comedic scene if the Byers stay with the Wheelers immediately post-S4 of someone finding Mike's letters and dropping non-subtle hints about his feelings (to his embarrassment and Will's confusion)

#there's just too much to back it up #i will remain convinced of these letters until s5 proves me wrong #byler #mike wheeler #s5 theory #sarah.txt

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dc418writes · 1 year

Text

•Where’s the Love?•

✨Pairing✨: fighter!Curtis Everettxblack!reader

Summary🪄: Little Anya has some beef with her father

⚠️: pretty much all tooth rotting fluff, a couple bad language words, mentions of verbal abuse

A/N🎙️: this is based off an Instagram video I saw (that I wish I had the link for but I do not🥲), and I hope you guys like it!

*Disclaimer!: although collage was made by me, I DO NOT CLAIM OWNERSHIP of photos used as they were all found in Pinterest*

“Are you..Y/N Y/L/N?”

“Yes,” you answer immediately being handed a box and bouquet of pink and white daisies. “W-wait, what’s-?”

“Happy Valentine’s Day. Enjoy,” the deliverer sighs sounding less than enthused as she journeys back to her van. Closing the door with your foot, a smile graces your lips already knowing it couldn’t be from anyone but Curtis.

I know we agreed no presents this year, but I couldn’t resist. I saw the flowers walking to the gym and all I could think about was you. I know, so cliche right? But it’s true.

I’m uh..you know I’m not the best at this, but you and babygirl are literally my world and I know I’ve been gone a lot, which sucks, but I just wanna make sure y’all are good. That we’re good.

Hopefully I can see you soon, and give my baby plenty of kisses for me. -Love, Curtis

“Presents?!,” a small voice gasps as her little feet patter into the kitchen next to you.

“Yea mamas look,” you smile lifting her to rest on your hip so she could clearly see everything. “Daddy bought a cake for us for Valentine’s Day! Looks yummy right?”

“Mhm!” Her chipper mood seems to fall though noticing only your name on the pretty bouquet resting on the counter.

“What’s wrong buggie?”

“Only your flowers. Not mine.”

“Aw Anya, they’re just as much yours as they are mine.” She’s not too happy with your answer though, remaining quiet as she rests her head on your shoulder.

“Why don’t we call daddy so you two can talk, yea?”

Reaching for your phone, it doesn’t take long for him to answer your call after you’ve dialed. Lips brightly stretched wide and face dripping sweat, he clearly had just finished his training session as he sits near the wide window and the sun’s rays shine behind him.

“There’s my girls! You like your surprise?”

“We did. Thank you honey it was really sweet, but uh Anya wants to talk to you.”

“What’s up babygirl?” Sitting down on the couch, you’re able to angle your screen so he can see the pout and disappointed look on your three-year-old’s face. Her deep brown curls fighting for attention as they fall near her hazel eyes.

His frown mimics her own hearing her little sniffles as she wipes her eye. “Why so sad?”

“No flowers..”

That confuses him at first until it dawns on him, making him softly sigh scratching the back of his neck with his still taped hand.

He didn’t purposely mean to hurt his little girl and make her feel left out. Curtis genuinely thought she’d be more excited about the cake - having a sweet tooth so big, it’d make Willy Wonka himself gasp - than flowers she couldn’t do anything with. Clearly he was mistaken.

“You don’t love me?,” she asks with watery eyes that further break his heart.

“Of course I love you Anya. In fact, I love you past the farthest star in the sky. You know how much that is?”

She gently shakes her head now sitting up beside you.

“It’s so much, I can’t even hold my arms out wide enough to show you,” he smiles chuckling at her shocked expression and the little “wow” that leaves her mouth. “I’m sorry I made you sad though. Daddy’s gonna make it up to you, okay?”

“Okay,” Anya nods.

“Now, gimme the knockout.” Instantly, she’s flashing her biggest, widest smile before giggling at Curtis’ dramatic display of clutching his chest and flailing backwards. It was one of their many cute daddy-daughter antics that never failed to make you smile and, in turn, miss him even more.

At the sight of his agent impatiently tapping his watch with a slew of photographers and journalists behind him, Curtis sighs trying to put on a brave face for his family. “I’m doing this for my girls,” he silently reminds himself. Giving them the life they deserve.

“Alright I gotta go. Be good for mommy.”

“Comin’ home today?!,” she asks with that adorable tilt of her head making some of her coils spring up and down.

“N-No, I don’t think I’ll be able to make it today.” He doesn’t miss the disappointment and hurt that flashes across her face. The one on yours either. “I’m gonna see if I can make something happen though.”

“Okay, give daddy kisses. He still has work to do,” you sigh trying not to let the underlying heartbreak take over your tone. Watching the both of them leave a peck on the screen alleviates the pain a bit, but not enough for you to forget.

“Do I get kisses from mommy too?,” Curtis asks with that boyish smirk that’s worked on you since high school. The slight tilt of his head reminding you of sitting in the back of that library all those years ago.

“Sure. The moment you walk through that door.” Your innocent smile has him chuckling.

“Cmon Dex, ya gonna leave me like that?” Your silence as you smooth your daughter’s hair out of her face pretending to ignore him makes a smug grin appear on his as if he had something up his sleeve. “Alright then. I still love you though.”

You try, but it’s impossible to hide your smile when his blue eyes look at you like that. Like you were his world filled with peace and all the good he ever could’ve asked for.

“Love you too.”

“Love you daddy!,” Anya grins one last time before giving him another kiss he happily “grabs” to place on his lips.

“I love you! I’ll talk to you later okay?” The small apartment is quiet again after saying your final goodbyes and hanging up with Curtis. Both you and little Anya leaning on each other still sat on the couch wishing he was home.

“You know what? We should have a girls day. Nails, a little shopping-,”

“Ice cream!!,” Anya excitedly shouts jumping into your arms and giving you a much needed laugh and cuddles.

“Of course.” Anything to get away from that apartment. “Cmon let’s get ready.”

Hey. Hate we couldn’t talk tonight, but I know you’re busy (sent 8:29 pm)

Hopefully we can hear your voice tomorrow💕(sent 8:30 pm)

Love you, and get some rest 💋(sent 8:30 pm)

Staring at your phone, you wonder if you should still call so he could at least say goodnight to Anya. It was part of their routine and he never missed it - much to his agent’s displeasure. He even tried to make a “no calls after eight” rule after he happened to overhear one of your late night conversations, but of course - ever the rebel - Curtis told him where he could shove that rule.

“Jammies mommy.” Standing in her fairy themed, light green pajamas she twirls with a wide smile before bouncing on the balls of her tiny feet.

“Look at you! You put them on all by yourself,” you smile sweeping your giggling daughter into your arms to kiss all over her face. “I’m proud of you.”

“Next, call daddy for goodnights!”

“No not tonight buggie. Daddy’s a bit-,”

The knocks at the front door startle you both definitely not expecting any visitors at this time of night.

“Mom-,”

“Shh sweetie,” you whisper holding her tight as you wait for whatever was to come next. Hopefully nothing.

Another knock follows soon after, further increasing your heart rate for who could be on the other side. With your boyfriend’s not so squeaky clean past, you can only hope it’s merely a person at the wrong door.

“Wait here okay?,” you softly instruct Anya leaving a kiss to the top of her head as your sock covered feet slowly pad to the door. Attempting to peek out the peephole, you’re only met with darkness from it being covered.

Whoever was there clearly didn’t want you seeing them until they said so.

“Who is it?”

“Open and find out.”

The all too familiar voice has relief sweeping over your body as your fingers work to unlatch all the locks. Silently, you curse your landlord for having so many installed rather than investing in a proper security system, or guard at least.

Eventually you open the door to his muscular form leaning against the doorframe. His blue eyes clearly tired, but so happy to see his girl again. He barely gets a foot inside before your lips are on his; holding him close with your fists clutching the front of his gray hoodie.

“I see the attitude’s gone,” he jokes before pecking your lips once more and along your jaw.

“Curtis what-,”

“Daddy?!,” your daughter squeals peeking from the couch to make sure she heard you correctly. Her face brightens as Curtis kneels smiling just as wide as her. “Hi Daddy!”

You move just in time as Anya runs right into his chest wrapping her small arms around his neck and burying her face into his shoulder. “Missed you.”

“I missed you too baby girl.” He plants kisses to her temple and all along her face making her giggle from his ticklish facial hair. “Hey I got something for ya.”

From behind his back he holds out a small bouquet of colorful roses that instantly makes her gasp before briefly going outside to bring in a dark brown teddy bear big enough for her to sleep on if she wanted. It makes both of you chuckle the way she bounces on her toes and claps unable to contain her excitement.

“You like it mamas?”

“Mhm!,” she nods tightly hugging her new toy. “Tank you!”

“You’re welcome, but Anya I really want you to listen to what daddy’s about to say...” At his slightly more authoritative tone, she lets go of her furry friend to stand in front of Curtis squatting down to be at her level. Her tiny hands nervously wringing around each other behind her back and big eyes staring up at her father patiently waiting for what was to come.

“Gifts does not measure amount of love, okay?,” he begins holding out his hands for her to grab. “Yes it’s a nice way to show someone how much you care for them, but it’s also not the only way either. Understand?”

There’s a pause before she hesitantly nods her head of curls. “Yes…you still love me.”

“I’ll always love you. And daddy’s sorry again for hurting your feelings.”

“S’okay,” she smiles placing a sweet kiss on his cheek and giving him another quick hug. “Now, help please.”

She returns to her bear trying to tug it’s arm toward the hall, but it only moves a couple inches making her huff in frustration.

“Of course baby girl,” he chuckles. “I got you.”

It’s nearly 11 when Curtis carefully enters your shared bedroom. After placing George the bear - how his daughter came up with George he didn’t know - in the corner near her closet, Anya of course wanted Curtis to read her a story. One then turned into two, which then led to catching him up on everything at daycare with auntie Max.

Well, to the best she could that is. Just turning three not too long ago, clearly communicating was still a challenge at times. But he didn’t mind - he thought it was adorable honestly - and sat on the floor beside her bed listening intently to every word until she talked herself to sleep.

“Everything went okay?”

“Yea, she’s completely out,” he replies. A smirk forms along his lips - and a giggle escapes yours - as he crawls over your relaxed body lying in bed. His nose gently taps against yours before your mouths collide for the second time tonight. This time more passionate, showing just how much you missed each other.

You can tell there’s more behind it though.

Pulling away, your thumb slowly grazes along his cheekbone taking in the fading bruise that was nearly gone, but still needed a day or two to heal. Your face unknowingly shows your disapproval making Curtis peck the inside of your wrist. “I’m fine.”

“I know. Still don’t like it though.”

He lowly chuckles leaning down to nibble along the column of your neck. “I know Dex.”

“So how long do we get with you? I know Simon didn’t okay your field trip.”

“Simon can kiss my ass. He doesn’t control me, I’m a grown man,” he retorts in a grumble while lifting his head that only causes you to roll your eyes. Why didn’t he just get rid of him if he hated him so much?

“I don’t wanna think about that alright? Lemme focus on my girl.” Your hand blocks anymore kisses he tries to distract you with sitting up to have more control if he dared try.

“Don’t.”

He sighs in defeat before lying on his back with long arms stretched over his head. A small bit of his lower abs and happy trail peeking from his hoodie and shirt rising. “…I gotta be to the airport in a couple hours.”

Yes it hurt, but you already suspected as much simply nodding as you slide closer to him. “Did you tell Anya?”

“Yea, s’why bedtime took longer.” He debated against it, not wanting to see that excitement fade from her beautiful face and tears well up in her eyes so similar to yours. But if not then with him, it’ll be left for you to deal with in the morning. Admittedly an unfair cop out on his part.

“Curtis…are you sure this is what you want?,” you whisper. He’s quiet, slowly blinking at the ceiling as he scratches at his scruff in reflective thought. Truthfully, he wondered that himself at times while landing blow after blow to the black punching bag. Or on his daily night jog where his thoughts boomed louder than the music in his ears.

“It’s all I know. All I’m good for.”

“That’s not true.” He snorts at that, turning to look at you with a disbelieving grin.

“Y/N, you of all people know-,”

“Know your past? Know the dark stuff that’s always lurking? Yea I was there, but that’s not all you are baby.”

It’s hard for him to believe that with his father’s gravely voice plaguing his mind at the most inopportune times.

“Just like your old man. All you bring is pain and destruction,” he darkly chuckles before taking a swig from his trusty flask he’s had since Curtis could remember. Probably earlier than that.

“Too bad your brother had to find that out the hard way huh?”

Your thumb grazing over the cut in his dark eyebrow brings him back, now focused on you and your soft smile.

“Where’d you go?”

“It’s..uh..it’s late. You should get some rest.”

Watching your expression change to quizzical, Curtis already knows what’s coming next.

“I only have…an hour and a half left with you. I’m not spending that time asleep unless you’re sleeping with me. If not, then I guess we’re both gonna be up,” you confidently respond. Playfully rolling his eyes, he sucks his teeth as he taps his pec signaling you to join him - which you happily oblige draping your leg over his hips with a giddy curl to your full lips.

“Damn you’re stubborn,” he chuckles lightly rubbing along your thigh and it’s adjoining cheek.

“I’ve been told.”

#curtis everett #curtis everett x reader #curtis everett au #curtis everett x woc!reader #snowpiercer #chris evans #chris evans x black reader #chris evans x reader #chris evans x woc!reader

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