#but actually I want to marry both of them and I’m straight help

[oswinthegeek]

Want some chocolate? 🍫

#remus lupin #harry potter #remadora #remus x tonks #otp #can I just give this poor man a hug? #oh to be tonks #I am jealous of a fictional character #but actually I want to marry both of them and I’m straight help #I feel like he has resting puppy dog eyes #I need to go to sleep it’s almost 7am #idk why I’m putting this all in tags but whatever

[perlelune]

no body, no crime | Coriolanus Snow | iii.

Your childhood friend returns from his exile in district 12, but he's not the sweet, quiet boy you once knew anymore.

Warnings: NON-CON, Plinth!Reader, Gaslighting, Drugging, Murder, Forced Marriage, Forced Pregnancy, Loss of Virginity, Somnophilia

This is a dark story. Heed warnings before reading under the cut.

𝖘𝖊𝖗𝖎𝖊𝖘 𝖒𝖆𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖙

After a few weeks, you’re forced to acknowledge you were wrong about Coriolanus.

His mere presence assuages your hurt, and none of his actions bear a hint of impropriety.

He’s simply being a friend, comforting you and supporting you in a time of need.

His visits grow more frequent. 

You’re amazed he even finds time between the University and his apprenticeship with Dr. Gaul. Still, Coryo never misses tea time with you, sometimes even bringing books and sweets. You’re thankful for the time he spends doting on you, even if you hate keeping him from his studies. You know how eager to succeed he’s always been. 

But you can’t deny you missed the feeling of having a brother, of having this person who cares for you, looks out for you and protects you unconditionally. 

And while you’re aware Coriolanus isn’t your actual brother, having him besides you helps alleviate the weight of grief and loneliness. Being with him makes you feel closer to Janus. You’re also solaced by the knowledge it’s what your departed brother would have wanted.

There is one person however who isn’t too keen on the rekindled bond between you and Coriolanus Snow.

“You’ve been spending a lot of time with him,” William notes, tracing the lines in your palm.

You’re both lying on the couch in the sunroom, your back against William’s chest, fingers interlaced with his. Sunlight spills from the stained glass in the ceiling, painting your fiancé’s brown curls in bronze hues. 

This is a moment of tranquility you’ve longed for, a sliver of calm amidst the storm and chaos wedding planning has turned out to be. You reckoned it’d be easier than it has been. Instead, it seems nothing ever goes right. Between incidents with the cake, your wedding dress somehow being lost by the store, and the venue perpetually being booked…you’ve grown disheartened and exhausted by the entire process.

It’s almost like some higher force is trying to prevent you marrying William. It’s ludicrous, of course. But the ceaseless string of bad luck is beginning to drain your hope that your wedding will happen before the year ends. 

You and William even had to push back the date. There was no choice as hurdles kept emerging.

So you bask in your fiancé’s presence, soaking his warmth and familiar smell, reminding yourself why you’re going through so much trouble. Marrying William is worth it.

“Yeah. He’s my friend,” you state casually. 

“Your friend. Baby…” There’s a brief pause during which William appears deep in thought. When he speaks again, it’s with a softer tone. “At the risk of sounding jealous, the way he’s looking at you…are you sure that he knows that?”

His words make you sit up straight. 

“William,” you admonish, taken aback by his preposterous insinuation. 

Coriolanus’ a gentleman. He hasn’t made any moves towards you and he wouldn’t. Sejanus trusted him and you trust him too.

Scratching the back of his neck, he sighs.

“I’m just saying. We’re getting married soon, and everything’s been so…tumultuous. I just want to make sure that you won’t…”

You search his forest gaze. Shock fills you at the doubts you find lurking there.

“That I won’t what?” You give a light punch to his chest. “Get cold feet? William, are you mad?”

His shoulders slump. “I know your parents wish I was from a great house like him.”

William looks away and you put your hands on his face, drawing his focus back to you.

“It doesn’t matter what my parents think. I love you.”

He smiles, that beautiful sunny smile that blows a warm breeze through your chest every time.

He grabs your hands and kisses them.

“I love you too, sweet girl.”

“William, you’re good and kind and caring. You’re all I’ve ever wanted.” You hold his eyes. “He’s just a friend, I promise you. You…You’re my future.”

William studies you, love and devotion illuminating his features. His lips then collide with yours. He nudges you down on the plush beige upholstery, humming low in his throat.

When his hands find their way below your skirt, you push against his chest.

He immediately stops.

Your hot, rapid exhales mingle as you steady your breath. 

“You know I’d rather we wait for our wedding night,” you mutter apologetically. It’s not the first time things got hot and heavy between you and William and you slowed them down. You know how frustrating it has to be for him and you commend his patience. “ I know it’s old-fashioned but I…”

He quiets you with a tender kiss on the forehead.

“No, it’s okay,” he says, holding hands with you. “I’m the one who’s sorry. I got carried away.” Pink dusts his cheeks as he adds, “You just smell so good and you’re so beautiful.”

A smile breaks across your face. “You’re not too bad yourself, pretty boy.”

He tilts his head and laughs. 

“How am I supposed to keep my hands to myself when you talk to me like that?” He bites his lip, his lids dipping to half-mast. “Can I at least get another kiss?” he whispers suavely.

“Hm, we’ll see about that…” you mumble, closing your own eyes.

“Apologies, hope I’m not  interrupting anything?”

Coriolanus’ sharp inflection shatters the spell, making you leap away from William.

Heat nestles in your cheeks as you rise to your feet, hastily smoothing the wrinkles in your dress. Your fiancé clears his throat and runs a hand through his tousled locks.

“No, we’re…William was leaving,” you stammer, struggling to meet Coriolanus’ stark blue gaze.

William’s brows squeeze together at that. But you shoot him a glare that pulls a deep sigh from him. He nods and pulls you to him one more time. 

He kisses you but you note it lasts much longer than usual, his fingers curling around your waist possessively.

Embarrassment flares inside you that this is happening right in front of your friend.

When he releases you, you’re breathless.

“Coriolanus,” William greets stiffly as he brushes past the blond.

“William,”Coriolanus replies, his tone somehow icier.

Once your fiancé has left, a weary exhale floats from your mouth.

“I don’t understand why you two can’t just get along. You both matter to me.”

Coriolanus smirks. “Oh, princess. You wouldn’t understand.”

“What wouldn’t I understand?” you inquire, blinking up at him curiously.

His tight-lipped smile expands as he gauges you. 

“Nothing.”

You scrunch your nose, displeased by his answer. He’s always so cryptic. A chuckle peels from his lips at your sour expression. His knuckles sweep over your cheek.

“There should never be a frown on such a pretty face.” He digs inside his satchel before retrieving a slim, leather-bound book. He places it in your hands as you gape at him, puzzled.

“Here, I brought you this. This will cheer you up.”

You examine the book. Surprise mingles with elation when you notice the words on the cover. The engraved letters spell out a familiar title. It’s one of your favorite books from when you were younger. It bewilders you that he even remembers. As if no time has passed.

“Oh my god! How did you…” An excited squeal leaves you. Then your voice lulls to a whisper. “It’s a first edition, Coryo.”

“It was printed and bound before the war,” he explains. “It wasn’t easy to dig up.”

Your brows rise. “An antique. You shouldn’t have.” You cradle the book against your chest. “You’re too good to me.”

His mouth quirks lopsidedly.

“Anything for you, princess.”

You both sit down for tea, cakes and macaroons. Time flies as you chat about everything and nothing with your friend. As always, you do most of the talking as he dutifully listens, only interjecting to ask you to elaborate on a particular point. 

No matter what you jabber on about, his interest never appears to wane.

You eventually land on the matter of your wedding planning. You share all the troubles you and William have had and Coriolanus hums in response.

“I’m very sorry to hear that.” He sips from his cup of Earl Grey. “How…unfortunate.” 

He then pauses, seeming to ponder something. “I have a proposition.”

Your brow arches in question.

“Clemmie is throwing a party tonight. Let me take you, get your mind off of all this.”

Your lips part. Clemensia? A party? None of it sounds enticing to you.

“I’m not sure…” you trail off, your eyes finding the floor.

“What better way to cheer you up than a party, princess?” Coriolanus’ voice mellows as he adds, “You can’t stay cooped up here forever.”

Words falter on your tongue as your eyes swell with unshed tears.

“What’s wrong?” he asks, concern oozing from his gentle tone.

You shake your head.

“You’re crying,” he insists, reaching over the table to lift your chin.

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologize,” he says sternly. “Talk to me.”

His unwavering  inflection nudges you to admit, “I’m just scared.”

“What are you scared of, princess?”

You suck in a shaky breath.

“Every part of this house, every nook and cranny carries a memory I have with Janus.” You glance about the sunroom. Here alone you can count so many hiding spots from games you and your brother played when you were kids. “It’s easy, keeping him close here. It’s just that…”

“You’re scared to move on,” Coriolanus finishes for you. His thumb glides over your cheek, collecting a tear you didn’t realize had spilled over. “But you have to.”

“Sejanus wouldn’t want you to wilt away in this house like one of your roses.”

You mull over his words. You suppose he’s right but you’re still not convinced. Parties like the kind Clemensia is fond of hosting aren’t exactly your scene. 

A lame excuse flows from your lips.

“I don’t even know what to wear.”

“Then I’ll choose for you,” he replies without hesitation.

“What?”

“Let’s go to your room.”

Before you can protest, he seizes your hand and drags you upstairs.

“Wait, Coryo…”

He ignores you, making his way to your room with brisk strides you can barely maintain pace with. Once he’s there, he rummages through your closet. You let him do it, half-skeptical, half-jaded. Most of these garments weren’t picked by you anyway, but by your mother based on whatever fashion trend raged in the Capitol at the time. And those trends change every other season. You since long gave up on trying to keep abreast of them.

“Hm, this one is perfect,” he announces, drawing a red number from the closet.

You gape at the dress he chose. It’s a slip satin dress the color of blood. The waist is cinched with a thin belt and the lace sleeves, adorned with embroidered flowers, flow elegantly.

It’s beautiful, radiating a timeless elegance…but the neckline is low, displaying more cleavage than you’re used to. 

Your cheeks warm. “Are you sure?”

“Just trust me. Try it.”

Your eyes bulge but you relent, something about his tone curbing your impulse to argue. “Okay,” you quaver.

Trying not to squirm beneath his intense stare, you grab the dress from him and slip behind the wooden divider screen.

Chewing on your lip, you peek above the folding screen.

“Maybe you could…get out while I change?” you suggest while fumbling with the lace strings of your day dress.

Coriolanus casually sits on your bed, his crimson coat pooling around him. He leans back and spreads his large hands over your bed sheets. A small smile dances along his pink lips.

“I won’t look, I promise. Don’t you trust me, princess?”

“I do but…”

“But what?” he challenges, cocking his head in question.

Stumped, you come up short of a decent answer. “Nothing,” you mumble.

You shed your clothes quickly to try on the red dress. The whole time, you can feel the weight of Coriolanus’ unnerving scrutiny on the other side of the wooden screen.

He gives you a sluggish onceover when you step out from behind the screen. Your skin prickles as you shake.

“Hm nice, twirl for me.”

His blue eyes sparkle when you do as he says. He gets to his feet. He slowly strolls towards you.

Once he’s in front of you, he also arranges a few wisps of your hair in a way that he likes.

“Gorgeous,” he lauds when he’s done. 

He tilts your chin up, his gaze corralling yours.

“See? All you have to do is to trust me, princess.” His deep voice dips to dulcet tones. “Just trust me and, I promise you, everything will work out exactly the way it’s supposed to.”

“You came,” Coriolanus points out, that signature smirk of his adorning his lips.

“I promised I would,” you defend.

He snorts. “I’m glad. Saves me the trouble of having to drag you here myself, princess.”

Nervous laughter peals from your lips at his strange joke and the intent way his eyes rest on you. For a while, he doesn’t say anything, drinking in the sight of you in the crimson dress. The very same one he picked himself.

He then loops your arm around his, bending near your ear to whisper,

“Let's re-introduce you to everyone.”

You look around yourself, curious as you’ve never been to Clemensia’s house. The atmosphere is more intimate than you expected. The only source of dim light in the Dovecote’s sumptuous living room emanates from candelabras scattered all about, the wobbly candlelight casting twisting shadows over the damask walls. The crackle of the logs burning in the gigantic fireplace mingles with the soft piano tune filling the living room. 

“Coriolanus, did you bring a ghost to my party?” Clemensia jests when she sees you. Her expression then turns serious as she studies you. To your utter surprise, she wraps her arms around you and hugs you. You freeze, too stunned to return the gesture. The two of you were never close, the opposite in fact. It all stemmed from the way she and her friends ostracized you and your brother in school. Maybe it’s all water under the bridge now that you’re older. “Oh, you poor thing,” she laments. “I’m here for whatever you need, okay?”

You nod stiffly. “O-Okay.”

Coriolanus hardly conceals his amusement at the interaction, mirth swaying in his cobalt orbs. 

He and Clemensia keep introducing you to people. Some you recognize; some you don’t. 

It makes you realize how much you missed. 

After a while, faces blend into each other. You end up nodding and smiling to most of the small talk, your attention span dwindling by the minute.

Eventually, you decide to retreat to the bar to take a break. The barkeep nudges a drink your way and you thank him quietly. You swirl it in your hand, your thoughts drifting. Maybe this is what a return to normalcy must feel like. Slightly strange and overwhelming.

You gasp as Coriolanus appears at your side. “Are you alright, princess? Too much?”

Your startled reaction draws a chuckle from him.

A slow exhale drops from your chest. 

“A little,” you confess. “But…I’m glad you took me. A change of scenery is nice.”

It occurs to you that you haven’t had time to wallow in your sadness, too caught in conversation with other people. However frivolous the topics, it did keep your mind off of things. No thoughts of dead brothers have crossed your mind tonight.

It might not be much but it’s a start, you suppose.

Coriolanus’ brow curves teasingly. “See? This is why you should trust me.”

“Don’t push it, Snow. You’re on thin ice.”

A laugh bursts from his chest but, as he peers down at your drink, all humor vanishes from his face. He swipes it from you and sniffs it. 

“Hm, what’s wrong?”

A frown puckers his forehead. 

“Who served you this drink?” he rumbles.

You shrug. “I don’t know. It was just…brought to me.”

“There’s something in it.”

“What?” Ice spills in your veins. “Oh my god.”

Your mind whirls as you peek at your surroundings, paranoia creeping in. You wonder who could have done this and why. Just to mess with you? Or maybe even worse…

Your gut sinks. Thank god Coryo put a stop to whatever awful thing could have happened to you.

He puts his hand on your arm reassuringly. “I’ll bring you a clean one.”

“T-Thanks,” you stutter. “Just nothing with alcohol in it, please.”

“Of course.”

He returns with a brand new drink in a jiffy. 

“Thanks for looking out for me,” you beam before taking a sip. You were starting to get a little parched.

“Always, princess.” He grins at you while you take another sip.

A wave of queasiness suddenly hits you. 

The room starts to spin around you, blurring into crooked shapes and colors. You try to stand but your knees buckle instantly.

If it weren’t for Coriolanus swiftly catching you you’d be a heap on the floor.

“Coryo…I’m not feeling so good,” you slur, struggling to speak. Cotton seems to fill your mouth, the mere act of forming words demanding great effort.

“It’s okay, lean on me,” he says, slipping his arm around your waist.

“Head…heavy.”

“You’re alright. Just hold on to me, okay?”

“Okay.”

“Good girl.”

In a daze, you stagger along as he escorts you through a series of hallways and up a flight of stairs. You grow so weak that you slump against him. With ease, Coriolanus hoists you in his arms, carrying you bridal style the rest of the way.

You fall onto something heavenly soft that sinks under your weight. Like fluffy clouds. 

Your thoughts collapse, muddy and haphazard as you blink up at the ceiling. An antique chandelier hangs from it.

“You just need a little bit of rest.”

Coriolanus’s voice is warped, disembodied almost.

“Rest…” you echo.

But as soon as your eyes begin to close, the feeling of your dress hiking upwards tugs you back to consciousness. 

Befuddled, you look down. You’re welcomed by the sight of Coriolanus wedged between your parted legs, hands clasped around your thighs. His waistcoat and white blouse are gone, exposing his pale, broad chest. 

“Coryo, what is happening-”

His soft lips cover yours, stifling your protests. His tall frame pins yours to the bed. He purrs against your lips, framing your jaw when you feebly pivot your head to the side. 

When his lips free yours, your mouth still tingles with the forcefulness of his bruising kiss. 

He returns to the space between your thighs. 

You lie back, your bones like jelly, as you feel the delicate material of your panties sliding down your legs. 

Your brows twitch. “Coryo…”

His blue eyes glow strangely in the darkness. A chill slithers through your core. 

“Shh, don’t worry about it, princess, just sleep.”

You want to move. You feel you have to. But you can’t. 

“I…”

The syllable dies in a sharp gasp as Coriolanus’ cool tongue drags down your slit. Long fingers spreading you open, he traces wet circles around your bundle of nerves. He rasps against your center and the vibrations rock through your core. Your breath hitches. Your chest tightens. Heat builds in your stomach as he makes you dangle off the cliff of pleasure. He soon adds a finger and you cry out.

Coriolanus pumps in and out of you, gauging your expression as he grazes a particular spot that has your toes flexing. You writhe over the sheets, eyes blindly rising to the ceiling. 

You clench around his finger, your cunt clinging to him reflexively.

He sinks a second digit inside you and you whine, back arching at the abrupt stretch.

Short, chaotic breaths rush through your lungs as he works you open. His slow, meticulous drags have your chest rising and falling rapidly. 

Your legs quake as the coils in your belly grow unbearably tight and hot.

He stops as you’re on the cusp of your undoing. Your boneless frame sags onto the sheets.

He leans back and you hear the rustle of his pants coming undone. You get a faint sense of wrong trying to pierce through the haziness, but you can’t grasp at it.

Still, your fingers stretch towards the edge of the bed, your body rolling to the side. The meek attempt is interrupted as Coriolanus yanks you back onto the sheets, snatching your wrists and pinning them above your head. His frame drapes over yours. The scent of roses coats your senses.

“We’re not done, princess,” he murmurs, his warm breath caressing your face.

A painful pressure starts prodding your entrance. He grunts, hovering above you as he pushes past your tight ring of muscles. 

You feel as if you’ll tear as more of him buries inside you. Every second is agony, your core burning at the blunt intrusion.

A sigh of pleasure floats from his mouth when he reaches the hilt of you. He stays there a while, seeming to bask in the feeling of you around him. 

When he starts to move, your eyes flutter open. He sets a steady pace right away, thrusting inside you as if his life depended on it. Wordless screams rip from your throat. He releases your wrists, his long fingers latching onto your waist instead. 

Each of his slow, deep thrusts sparks warm tingles through your body.

Sweat collects between his brows as he grunts in pleasure.

“I knew you’d feel just perfect around me,” he rasps, delighted. 

His cadence quickens, his hand digging bruising grooves over your hip. Choked moans spill from your throat. His other hand crawls beneath the thin satin of your dress, fondling your breast and flicking your pebbled nipple. His hands feel everywhere at once and that sense of wrong rolls over you again.

“Ever since I saw you in this dress, I’ve been dying to fuck you in it,” he confesses, lust bleeding in his fevered tone. 

The mattress squeaks as he relentlessly rams into you.

A uniquely sharp thrust has your slick walls tighten around him. His cock stirs, a throaty moan pouring from his chest.

The repeated friction against your soft spots has you seeing stars.

A feral glint bounces in his blue eyes as he admires your panting form, lost in the throes of pleasure. Strangled shouts escape you as another wave of pleasure crashes over your frame.

His pace slows, sloppier than before as his cock twitches between your walls. His eyes roll back as he sighs, tension draining from his muscular frame. Hot ropes spill inside you, overflowing until you feel the warmth dripping along your thighs.

Your mouth wobbles, silent tears streaming down your face.

Coriolanus cradles your face, kissing away each of your tears with tender brushes of his lips.

“Shh, don’t cry,’ he mumbles. “It’s okay, princess. I’ve got you.” His cock stiffens inside you once more. He lifts you and snaps his hips viciously into yours, drawing a broken whimper as he bottoms out. A lopsided smile blooms on his lips when he begins to move inside you. Helplessly, you lie back as he takes you again.

“I’ve got you, and I’m not letting you go.”

#dark!coriolanus snow #coriolanus snow #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #coriolanus snow x reader #hunger games #tbosas #tbosas fanfiction #dark!coriolanus snow x reader

[letters-to-lgbt-kids]

My dear lgbt+ kids, 

So, you have been in a relationship for a while and you’re ready and eager to take the next step - but your partner isn’t. What now? 

The “next step” I’m referring to here could mean a lot of different things because relationships do not all follow one specific timeline (and also because my readers may be of wildly different ages and live in wildly different situations) but I am thinking of any “deepening our commitment” things here: for example introducing them to your friends or your family, moving in together or (if you are in a situation where that’s a legal possibility) even marriage or having a child together. 

Whatever the step actually looks like, you may have this romantic idea of “If they’re right for you, you’ll always naturally want to take these steps at the same time”… but that’s not really how relationships work in real life. Even in the healthiest relationship and even if you absolutely feel like they’re your soulmate, you may still disagree on when to take those steps or even on whether you want to take these steps at all. 

In fact, it’s uniquely frustrating if everything else is going well. If their refusal to meet your mom is just another point on the long list of behaviors that make you feel like they don’t really care about you, that’s also painful but it’s easier to give advice there: maybe you should think about breaking up. It’s tempting to believe that you can make them love you more if you move in with them or that they’ll treat you better once you get engaged, but that won’t work out. You can’t fix a broken relationship by deepening the commitment - commitment needs a stable foundation to grow. And this doesn’t only go for outright abusive relationships: they may be a wonderful person but you two just have entirely different goals and needs, and those won’t suddenly overlap more just because you moved in with them or married them. 

With all that being said: if there IS a healthy and stable foundation, if you are happy in every other aspect and they’re just hesitant about this one specific step, then jumping straight to “break up with them” would obviously be pretty unhelpful advice. Differing opinions occur even in the most compatible couple, you are both whole people with your own individual feelings and those do not necessarily doom the whole relationship. It’s important to see this situation in the context of the relationship in general. 

You may be able to guess that a big portion of the advice is just gonna be “Communicate with your partner” - but first of all, I’d advise you to have an open and honest conversation with yourself. Why is this step of commitment so important to you? What does it mean to you? Do you feel a sense of urgency in taking it and if so, why? Is this specific step the only possible path for your need to be met? Are you open to alternative approaches, are you open to waiting (and if so, for how long)? The purpose of these questions is definitely not to convince yourself to give up on your needs or to talk yourself into a compromise you’re not really happy with! The opposite of that, actually: It’s helpful to reflect on what exactly you want and why you want it, so you have the clarity you need to discuss it productively. You don’t want to agree to something that ultimately leaves you unsatisfied and bitter, but you also don’t want to push hard for something you later on realize doesn’t even mean that much to you. 

When you feel confident enough about your own stance to discuss it with your partner, the most important thing to remember is: you’re on the same team. The goal here isn’t to “win” or to change their mind, but to see each others perspective better and find a solution you’re both happy with. Listen with an open mind. Try to understand before you try to influence. Remind yourself that your partner isn’t your enemy, they also want the best outcome for both of you - otherwise you (hopefully) wouldn’t want to commit to them! 

Something you should get clarification on during your conversations: is it a hard no (do not want to do that at all ever), a soft no (open to alternatives or adjustments), a no for now (want to do it but not yet), a yes but (want to do it but only under certain circumstances or in a different way than your original plan) or a I don’t know? How does this affect your feelings on the situation? (I’m sure that even just while reading these different scenarios, some instinctively feel better or worse than others! But it’s still important to take some time to sit with any new information that comes up during those conversations. Neither of you should feel pressured or rushed here!) 

You may find that they just never considered that there may be multiple approaches to that step (an example for this would be that they are not actually opposed to the idea of being married to you, just to the idea of a wedding, and didn’t consider yet that eloping is also a possibility) - but don’t set yourself up for disappointment by expecting the conversation to 100% go that way. It may also be a hard no, and that wouldn’t make them a horrible person. People can deeply, truly love someone and still do not want to take certain steps with them. It’s a good idea to remind yourself that you’re not “in the right” or “the better person” for wanting to take those steps. While certain steps may be a big part of your own future plans or even of your identity and self-image (and that’s valid!), they are just personal preferences. It’s not a moral obligation to want them, and your partner isn’t mean for not wanting them. But, of course, at this point we also need to say: if you can not imagine a life where you never get married, you are not a horrible person for breaking up with a partner who can not imagine to ever marry. “Irreconcilable differences” are a common breakup reason for a reason. 

So, to summarize: Building a strong foundation is crucial before taking big steps. Communicate openly with yourself first - understand why you want to take this step and if there are alternatives. When talking to your partner, remember you're a team; it's not about winning but understanding each other. Be open to different responses, from a clear no to conditions on a yes. Do not pressure your partner but do not completely give up on your own happiness either. 

The journey of commitment should be a shared adventure - not a battle or a competitive race! 

With all my love, 

Your Tumblr Dad 

#lgbt #lgbt+

[sorchathered]

Dream Come True

Pairing- Bob Floyd/reader

Warnings-maybe language? It’s just straight fluff with maybe a twinge of angst.

Summary- reader can’t keep her feelings to herself anymore, Bob is an absolute dreamboat.

The Hard Deck is completely packed, everyone is off for the holiday weekend and it couldn’t be more overwhelming. You and Bob have hunkered down in a corner booth near the pool tables, nursing your beers while you watch the rest of the squad attempt to take on Hangman and Coyote at what is sure to be another devastating loss.

Bob comes back from the bar with more peanuts as you notice a few girls at the bar looking at him like he could be their next meal, and in true Bob fashion, he is absolutely clueless at just how hot he actually is. Just as charming as Rooster, and definitely just as handsome as Hangman; but the shy soft spoken man in front of you seems completely unaware of the looks he gets every time he steps into Penny’s bar. It’d almost be funny if you weren’t also one of the girls vying for his attention and getting absolutely nowhere.

“Goodness it sure is busy tonight, those girls couldn’t have gotten closer to me if they tried” he said, and you can’t help but throw your head back and laugh at how oblivious he was.

He quirks an eyebrow in your direction as you settle down with a deep sigh.

“You really don’t know the effect you have on people do you?” You say, mostly to yourself shaking your head with a smile, staring at your beer instead of at the bewildered WSO sitting next to you.

“Wha- Who? Me?!” Bob is beet red now, looking absolutely anywhere but at your face.

“Yes you! They were practically throwing themselves at you goofball!” Facepalming and erupting in giggles at the shock on his face.

He’s laughing with you in earnest now, but you can tell he still doesn’t quite believe you.

“Well that’s awful sweet of them darlin’ but I’ve got everything I need right here” reaching across the table and patting your hand, lingering a little longer than normal for two people who are supposedly just friends.

It’s always been like this, ever since the two of you met in the academy almost a decade ago. Sure you’ve both dated other people, but it never goes anywhere. Everyone always jokes that you’ll be married with a brood of kids one day and it gets passed off with an awkward laugh and quick subject change.

One of you is going to have to have the courage to breach whatever this is; a crush, sexual tension, love? Oh God shut up brain don’t get ahead of yourself…you’re smarter than this, if he had wanted you he would have said something by now. You could come out of your skin just thinking about what it would be like to kiss him, be his girlfriend, one day be his wife…

He’s looking at you now, eyebrows furrowed and looking a little worried that maybe the heat has gotten to you after all because you’ve all but spaced out trying to fight the war you’re having internally.

“Sweets if you think any harder your head is gonna explode, what’s going on up there?”

You open your mouth to tell him everything is fine but that is definitely (unfortunately) not what comes flying out.

“I’m pretty sure I’ve been in love with you since we got back to Top Gun, hell probably longer than that and I doubt you feel the same and oh God this is so awkward you know what just forget I ever said anything.” You blurted it out, literal word vomit. Good job genius now he probably thinks you’re nuts.

You can’t stay and look, it’s too hot in your little corner booth and you can feel the walls closing in so you jump up and whisper a half ass apology as you push out through the crowd and mercifully make it through the door.

Gasping in the sea air and trying to regulate your breathing are proving to be difficult now, because omg what the hell were you thinking? You told your colleague (yes he was more like your best friend but nevertheless) Bob Freaking Floyd, the most beautiful man you’ve ever seen that you are in love with him and then ran out of the bar like Cinderella at midnight.

While your brain is spinning out of control, you barely notice the door opening behind you, and you certainly didn’t expect to startle as the person that came through the door links his fingers with yours.

It’s him, because of course it is. You knew better than to think you could just drop a bomb like that thinking he would let it go. Taking a deep breath you spin around to his kind face and stupidly perfect blue eyes.

“You done spiraling so we can actually talk about what the hell just happened?” He says, rubbing the back of his neck and for the first time in years you can’t get a read on him. Normally you can clock how he’s feeling from a mile away but this…this is something different.

“Is there any way I can get you to forget it?”

“Not a chance”

“I- fine.”

You open and close your mouth and try to get the words out but there’s only one thing your brain is screaming at you.

3 words, 8 letters. You say it to him in your head every day, when he’s sharing his snacks with you during Mav’s long lectures, when you are watching whatever sci fi show he’s currently obsessing over and his rambling commentary has you laughing at his nerdiness, when he sees a dog in public and immediately has to burst out for you to look at the puppy and you completely swoon over him because he may be the cutest thing you’ve ever seen.

Just say it. Life is too damn short. Especially in your line of work.

“I love you Robby. If it screws everything up between us and we can’t move on from this I get it, but I can’t keep it in anymore I-I’m sorry.” You’re staring at your feet now, starting to wish you could just teleport to another place or jump in whatever Time Machine exists in his shows to go back to before this ever happened.

But Bob? Robert Floyd, man of your dreams? He’s not phased or shaken, not one bit. He leans in, pulls your face in with both his hands and kisses you like it’s something the two of you have always done, like it should be completely obvious to you that he’s always felt this way, he was just waiting for you to solve the puzzle yourself.

Pulling away far sooner than you’d like, he has the audacity to chuckle when you try to chase his lips.

“Silly girl, it’s always been you don’t you know that? I was just waitin’ on you to decide what you wanted, now mind you I didn’t think it’d take you this long, but I’d wait forever if it meant we ended up here.”

You let out a watery laugh as more tears stream down your face, Bob quick to swipe them away with his thumb.

“Come on sweets, let me take you home and we can spend all weekend talking about what our forever should look like, because now that I’ve got you I’m not letting you go.”

And you do just that, because he really is everything you ever dreamed.

#top gun maverick #bob floyd #top gun #robert bob floyd #bob floyd x reader #robert bob floyd x reader #top gun fanfiction #top gun maverick fanfiction #fluff

[save-the-villainous-cat]

Villain or hero (either one) “torturing” the other (with extreme pleasure/edging) to get information? 

(I wouldn’t mind if they both had switch energy and the one being “tortured” was very good at flirting/dirty talk and the one doing the torturing got a lil flustered and made a hasty exit at the end *////* but that’s up to you!!)

“Ah, look what the cat’s dragged in…” the villain said, rather playfully. They weren’t in the mood for insults and they weren’t in the mood for fighting with their hero. Not when they were the one who was saving them from a potentially annoying night. Besides, the villain had invited them.

It was bait, actually. And the villain wasn’t quite sure if the hero was fully aware of that. Hell, they were more than surprised to see that their nemesis had actually shown up. They had prepared for a boring evening but now things seemed to be getting interesting.

“Could I borrow you for a second?” The hero flashed a smile at the person (some business owner, the villain hadn’t really paid attention) next to the villain and grabbed their arm lovingly, as if they were married.

“Sure, honey.”

Before the villain could even register what happened, the hero dragged them into an empty storage room, pushed them against the wall and pressed a knife to their throat. The hero’s mood had changed from saccharinely sweet to bitterly serious.

“Damn, you’re into that?” The villain looked down at the knife and grinned. “I don’t know, I could be into that, too. Maybe? We’ll see.”

“You fucking asshole. Do you know what kind of coordinates you gave me?” the hero hissed. But the villain could only smile lazily. Being pushed against the wall by their nemesis felt amazing. Touching all the right places, forcing eye contact, grabbing them hard enough to let excitement rise within — all of it made them shiver in anticipation.

The hero didn’t look like it but they were certainly strong. Which was extremely hot.

“You mean the coordinates you forced me to give to you?” It had happened last week when the hero had captured the villain. During a mission, the hero had learnt about the ridiculous amount of stolen artworks the villain had in their possession.

“Same difference.”

“What can I say? I’m a lover of culture. I won’t give up that easily.” The hero’s knife pressed harder into the villain’s windpipe and stupidly, they enjoyed themselves a little too much. The hero was warm and their face got a little too red in the heat of the discussion. Honestly, the villain was disappointed that the hero had come here for business, not because they wanted to see their beloved enemy. But this was definitely better than wasting their time with rich people.

“You know where these coordinates led me to?” the hero asked.

“Enlighten me.”

“A fucking McDonald’s. You embarrassed me in front of my whole team.” That made the villain chuckle. The thought of their hero blushing in front of their team and being humiliated brought them immense joy.

“You couldn’t check your GPS system before, hm? Shame, baby,” the villain whispered. Although it was more difficult to talk normally with the pressure on their throat, they couldn’t help themselves. “Pretty thing.”

“God, you absolute piece of—”

“Didn’t think about that? Too busy hunting every little piece of information I give to you? Too obsessed to think straight? Too—”

The hero grabbed their jaw and the pressure of the knife faded. However, the villain’s blood pressure skyrocketed as the hero pressed a knee between their thighs.

“Listen. I need those artworks back immediately. I am losing my patience and my compassion here.”

“Does that mean you like meee, honey? Got a soft spot?”

For a moment, the hero didn’t say anything but their thumb rubbing over the villain’s cheek was enough to make the villain’s legs tremble. The way they looked at them, calculating, studying — it drove the villain insane. Eventually their eyes dropped to the villain’s lips.

“Fuck, you never learn,” they said softly and their grip hardened.

What the villain didn’t except was a kiss this soft. Something so sweet and loving. They expected the hero to be rough as their hand glided down to their throat. They expected them to squeeze but it was quite the contrary — a hesitant first kiss that was nothing like the stuff the villain was usually into.

Both of them were out of breath once they parted and the villain swore they felt their brain liquify. Turning tables and all.

Even though the hero had kissed them, they were embarrassed, avoiding eye contact. It was adorable and hot, as if the hero had acted out of desire, not out of obligation. Maybe the hero had come here because they wanted to see the villain, not primarily because of business.

“Am I not good enough for your tongue?” the villain teased and this time, the kiss wasn’t as innocent.

The hero pressed them against the wall with their whole body. One hand was still around their throat, squeezing a little now and the other on their lower stomach where eager fingers tried to find ways into their pants. Every now and then, the villain’s eyes widened and they moaned into the other’s mouth when the hero’s fingers dug a little deeper, touched a little more.

And the kiss was sloppy, demanding. The way the hero used their tongue was electric. Being completely present, completely in control, yet not too demanding. The villain got pushed into obedience gently, lured into it and, god, they didn’t want to come out of it.

The villain was ready to confess all their sins to them and let them execute them if it meant they would exchange looks one last time.

For the second time, they parted and this time, the villain had no words except for a broken version of the hero’s real name which they could only moan.

“Listen,” the hero said again, panting. They pressed the villain’s hips back into the wall. “I’m gonna get those coordinates. The real ones.”

The villain looked at them, heart beating in their throat, lust overwhelming them.

“Your hand…” they said. “Please.”

“Coordinates,” the hero said. Their hand reached deeper into the villain’s pants, touching sensitive skin methodically, making the villain curse.

“You’re so good at this,” they whispered. “Fuck…”

Eventually, the villain threw their head back, bumping back into the wall. They needed this. They hadn’t know that they did, but they did. Not even thinking about it, they put their own hand into their pants, finding the hero’s and following their movements.

It was a slow process — thanks to the hero’s control — and the villain was close to losing their mind.

“I’ll give you what you want if you give me what I want,” the hero whispered at one point, slowing down and the villain, completely detached from reality, promised them to give them the information they wanted.

Little did they know that the coordinates they gave to the blushing hero after they finished, sent them to the next McDonald’s.

#suggestive #but I guess you knew that already #*​drops this and leaves for three months* #writing snippet #heroxvillain prompt #heroxvillain snippet #heroes and villains #hero #villain #hero x villain #heroxvillain #an answer for an ask #request

[new-revenant]

Dpxdc idea in which Superman meets Dani while she’s out traveling and she helps him out with whatever threat of the day he’s dealing with. This is sometime after the Justice League formed and way before Superman learns about Conner.

Dani does pretty well but then get smacked out of her ghost form and into her human form, so Superman is left to deal with the threat. After the threat is taken care of, Superman’s like “you have a lot of potential young one, thank you for your assistance” or something. And Dani says “thanks I take after the guy I got cloned from.”

Superman - “Your a clone? Who cloned you?”

Dani - “an evil ghost named Plasmius cloned me after a superhero ghost named Phantom because he wanted him to be his son. As you can see he’s not very good at the whole cloning thing.”

“I can call the Justice League? If you want?”

“Nah I’m good, Phantom and sometimes the Fentons are able to beat him up.”

“…Okay can you explain a bit more please?”

Somehow Dani manages to convince Superman that the Fentons are in fact not evil mad scientists, that Plasmius is just a regular weird ghost that just so happens to look like a vampire(Dani wanted to convince him that he was actually a vampire but that didn’t work), and somehow managed to convince him that she was cloned from both Danny Fenton and Phantom since Plasmius wanted a way with Danny’s mom to marry him or something.

Superman offers her again for League help, but she declines saying, “Your pretty strong, you can help by yourself. Speaking of help, I actually need some of that right now.”

Superman - “What do you need help with?”

Dani - “I need clothes and food and probably enough money to rent a motel room for a night.”

Anyways that’s how Superman adopts Dani. Dani still travels around but now she makes frequent pit stops to Metropolis and the Daily Planet. It’s not long until the League finds out about her and whenever asked about herself, Dani just gives them non-answers and disappears before appearing again to prank them. Superman says that she’s practically his daughter and Dani just nods and that’s all they have to go off on. Dani told Superman to not spill about her past unless it was absolutely necessary.

Dani once introduced Superman to Danny when Dani started destabilizing again-and Superman was going to Amity Park as Clark Kent to interview the Red Huntress since by then Amity Park is a bit more well know with the whole Pariah Dark thing or something-and Danny was fangirling the whole time since Dani straight up told him that Clark was Superman. Phantom was also fangirling but it was because Superman was a hero and definitely not because he was an alien since Danny and Phantom are definitely two different people.

Dani sometimes calls Clark while he’s at work and now everyone at the Daily Planet knows he’s got a kid now. They are very supportive.

Now, Superman knows about clones and has a more positive outlook on them as simply people who can mold themselves into what they want to be, not whatever their creator created them for. And then he meets Conner.

That’s right, this whole prompt was just a ploy for good dad!Superman for Conner! And now Superman has a reputation for adopting clones. But nobody knew that Dani was a clone(except Batman probably) until Conner arrived. So now the League are asking about that. Sucks to suck for Superman since the League are like “wtf why did you not tell us this?” And Superman’s like, “Dani told me not to tell you guys because she was scared :(“. That works, somehow. Now Conner also has a chaotic older sister who cares about him dearly. Not to mention Team Phantom who also support him to hell and back. Happy times all around.

#danny phantom #dani phantom #dp x dc #dani fenton #dp x dc crossover #dp x dc prompt #danny phantom crossover #revenant rambles

[theangelyouknew]

I just want to say, even though I’ve probably said it before.. both Good Omens and Our Flag Means Death have carried me through so much.

Last year I married someone who treated me so badly. Like ridiculously terribly. He made me want to straight up die. But Our Flag Means Death helped me to get the strength to finally leave him. (It took 5 tries, one of which was me jumping out of a moving vehicle)

And Good Omens helped me get the strength to get through the actual divorce of it all. Writing fics, reading them, submersing myself in the fandom (in ways I haven’t done since 2013)

As of Friday I’m officially divorced. I’m officially no longer experiencing “discomfort in a married state.” I might be lonely BUT I’m free. And even then I’m less lonely because I have these shows, these fandoms in my life.

I might not get a happy ending but as long as these characters do, I think I can live with that.

#good omens #our flag means death #ofmd

[dellalyra]

Hello! I saw that your requests are open so if I may can I request headcanons for Nanami and Gojo when reader is pregnant? Like some random moments as well as how they act during the whole thing from telling them about the pregnancy! Also congratulations on thsu milestone!

Thank you and have a good day/night <3

AGH YAY I LOVE THIS thank u so much for sending this in!!!!

CW: I guess a lil nsfw, f!Reader, soft as hell, suggestive themes

✭ Pixie’s 1.5k Follower Celebration - send in headcanon requests! ✭

✵ NANAMI ✵

✵ you and kento had definitely been planning for a child, and actively trying. He was actually the one to suggest a baby at first, you’d been married for 2 years and he had always wanted to be a father.

✵ 100% the kind of man who would have you both taking fertility vitamins to help encourage a healthy pregnancy.

✵ safe to say - babymaking was the highlight for you both. The thought of you having his child drove this man insane (nanami breeding kink go brrr) he was literally insatiable.

✵ He was actually the one to sense you were pregnant, you had been feeling under the weather for a day or two, not thinking much of it since you’d been trying for only 2 months and it was November. But, then Kento brought you both home some delicious ramen from a local market and the smell had you SPRINTING to the bathroom. When he was done holding back your hair, he opened the bathroom cabinet and pulled out a test.

✵ When the two very strong lines appeared you jumped into your husbands arms as he spun you in a circle, whispering sweet nothings.

✵ During your pregnancy, Kento would not let you lift a finger. He was on you with your prenatal vitamins, smoothies, foot rubs, every type of Lamaze class you could think of

✵ god the other women in the Lamaze class were just fawning over your husband, arm around your swollen waist, attentive to every moment you make (and those muscles under his well fitted sweater helped)

✵ he made sure to read to your baby every night, as well as rubbing lotion into your bump to help the stretching skin.

✵ builds the crib and nursery furniture himself (from scratch), and helps you paint and prepare.

✵ you both decide on Yuuji as godfather

✵ just so prepared to be a dad man, literally came pre assembled as a father.

✵ Gojo ✵

✵ k SO one of two situations, yay surprise baby or you guys had like an ‘if it happens it happens’ situation going on, no pressure or planning

✵ I think Satoru had been scared to be a father at first, but then he realised that love isn’t a curse, and the love you two have is so powerful it can create a whole other person, not even his six eyes can do that.

✵ there’s no need for a pregnancy test , you come home one day and he freezes - you had been gone when he woke up that morning, a mission an hour or two away but short and easy. You got back around noon, and giggle at your husbands surprised face.

✵“baby, it’s … it’s not just you. i can see them.”

✵“okay mr. I can see dead people what are you on about?”

✵ he just lays a big hand over your still-flat belly, and you gasp, realising what he means. He can see the tiny amount of cursed energy coming from your womb. A combination of his and yours makes for a powerful residual. The little dot pulsed along with what he presumed was the baby’s heart.

✵“are you serious? please don’t joke ‘Toru”

✵ “shush, you’ll wake up our baby.”

✵ you both drop to your knees and he wraps his big long arms around you

✵ “we’re having a baby ‘Toru.”

✵ he warps you both straight into shokos office and by your teary smile and Satoru’s beaming face she just says congrats and pulls out the ultrasound machine.

✵ you’re 6 weeks along, “hey lil’mochi, this is your momma, and I’m papa, but she calls me dadd-”

✵ SPOILS YOU

✵ immediately you both go to the shop, baby clothes, toys, plushies, a whole new family car.

✵ literally ridiculous

✵ plans the biggest baby shower, he’s just so happy

✵ a little scared he won’t be a good enough dad but you shut that down straight away

✵ any and all cravings are catered to

✵ gets even more handsy and insatiable during your pregnancy, just seeing you swollen with HIS child makes him fucking FERAL

✵ PARENTING BOOKS

✵ at night, sits and chats with your bump, head laying on your lap facing the bump, your hands in his hair, usually stories of how he met you, embarrassing little megumi, how he annoys Uncle Nanamin, how awesome he is

✵ has planned an entire emergency plan for you and the baby, it’s eased his mind. He didn’t tell you, just put precautions in place.

✵ draws faces on your bump

✵ helps you bathe and shower and washes your hair because ‘Mrs. Gojo deserves whatever she wants.’

✵ fights with the higher ups and threatens them so much that they give you both a years parental leave, more if needed. Scary man <3

✵ has lists as long as him of name ideas, does not shut up about all the things he wants to do

✵ constantly posting and sharing photos of ‘pretty mama’

#gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #jjk x reader #gojo satoru #jjk #gojo fluff #anime #dad!gojo #gojo headcanons #gojo hcs #nanami headcanons #nanami kento #jjk nanami #nanami hc #jjk headcanons #pixie’s 1.5k follower celebration #family formations drabbles

[nighttimeoracle]

PAC: how do you inspire your soulmate/FS?

In their heart, you’re their muse and bewitcher. When the voice quivers and words fail to express how much they admire you, the truth will always find your way.

Pile 1

Justice, Ten of Swords, The Emperor, Two of Cups, Six of pentacles

They like when you get all serious and grumpy after you’ve made your decision—to go to battle💀. Ha! JK, or not? You have an iron will and are a natural protector. No matter if you act cowardly at times as when it comes to protect your loved ones, you will turn fierce and basically into a mama bear ready to claw some baddies’s eyes out. Too early for a +18 mention? Maybe not 😏. Your aggressiveness turns this person on. They like this wild part of you and you releasing the control you hold so dearly (might not apply to everyone, but some of you definitely are huge control freaks). They also admire the fact you get your priorities and morals straight, and you can stick to your choices ‘till the end. You’re stubborn and they respect that. It’s appealing to them that someone as small and cute as you (in comparison to them or that’s how they view you like “their little one”) could fight thugs and manage problems they themselves would be afraid of. “How do you do it?”, I heard. You aim for doing everything on your own and refuse the help offered by those worried of you, which would ultimately lead you to sickness and feeling burn out. Your person appreciates greatly your independency and they would let you do anything you want, but they still worry a lot about you. You and this person are quite similar in character, so they have no right to chastise you for your excessiveness. They’re proud of you and you inspire them to keep going forward. By any chance did you thought of your soulmate when you picked this pile? You’re definitely going to marry your other half, darling. Congrats!

Hello💞 if you liked this reading and wish for a customized one, you can check my list of services here and my lastest offers here.

Pila 2

The high priestess, seven of wands, two of pentacles, ace of swords, nine of wands

You have a dark feminine energy. Whether you’re female or male, you have this sultry and mysterious aura around you. You’re like a chameleon; ever changing and you can show people what you want them to see. You’re in charge here, wow. You remind your person of a female fatale, and they love it. When I said “ever changing”, I didn’t mean you had mood swings nor you’re volatile in nature. You’re smart and reflexive and you have many opinions, even views on one topic that are contradictory to each other. You always have something to say, but I’m under the impression you usually don’t speak more than necessary. You rather surprise people with an interesting comeback or sharp remark. You like to feed the mysterious reputation you have. If people say you’re a vampire, then you will put on an act for them with the goth clothes and dark makeup. You’re a show men or woman. Not like Leo or the rest of fire signs that are high key. You seek to entertain yourself, but you end up entertaining the one who is paying close attention to you—your lover. You’re their dark muse, a naughty one. You might start the tradition of inciting the other so an argument can break out. You two could play-fight and mock each other, until someone gets actually mad and you shut their mouth with a deep kiss. Your person loves heating arguments as they usually lead to a fiercer match in the sheets. However, what they admire the most about you is that anyone can talk to you about anything. You’ve been through a lot, dear, and that turned you into an empath and good listener. You don’t have to tell them anything as they know of your suffering, it certainly shows in your energy. You give them courage to talk about their nightmares and the most weird and random stuff. They would speak to you about camping stories as they probably were a scout and/or those experiences are both the best and worst they went through.

Hello💞 if you liked this reading and wish for a customized one, you can check my list of services here and my lastest offers here.

Pila 3

Four of pentacles, queen of cups, six of swords, nine of pentacles, the fool

Out of the three piles, you have the most feminine energy. For both female and males, your aura is luminous and pure. Your energy feels refreshing and… natural? You could remind your person of the water drops on the leaves after the rain has passed, the smell of petrichor, and the pleasant sound of a near stream. If you’ve played closed attention, I wrote about 3 out of the 5 human’s senses. Your person can’t ignore your presence when you’re around. “You´re too cute and have the charm of a child”, I heard. They mean you’re just like a maiden or little boy—innocent, carefree, and loving. They might not think you’re otherworldly, quite the opposite. You’re the definition of what human should be in their opinion. You set an example for those whose minds have been consumed by social media, capitalism, and wars. You’re incredible, thus a rare sight. I got a glimpse of someone smiling wide and proudly. They find themselves lucky to be your friend. Whether you picked this pile thinking of a soulmate or future spouse, you’re definitely starting off as just friends. It’s weird, I think your person might get obsessed with you but not in a romantic sense? Not at first. They could be an activist or fighter for human rights and they would idealize you for who you are, a conscious being. I’m hearing the following message, “thank God I’ve found you! I’m not crazy! I met a person that’s just like me”. It’s like they’re oblivious to the way they act around you, and you entering their life would put their world upside-down. They will treasure you and adore you and admire you immensely, the list of his favorite traits of yours is too long for this reading. However, they can't put a name to what you are to them. A friend? Nah, you make them go insane and they don’t want to share you with anyone. I feel a strong sense of protectiveness, possessiveness, and jealously. Oh boy, this person might make you wait around for a bit, but right after they realized they actually loved you; they might pounce on you. They might even scare you! I heard, “I want to drink in your essence”. This person who at first was a loving and seemly asexual friend to you would turn into a famish lion with an insane sex drive.

Hello💞 if you liked this reading and wish for a customized one, you can check my list of services here and my lastest offers here.

#tarot readings #intuitive readings #psychic readings #tarot community #free tarot #love readings #free readings #pick a card #free tarot readings #astrology

[hischierswhore]

Your piece with Christian trying to get the reader back was so cute! Could you possibly do one with Mason? His planning to propose to the reader and let’s his sister in on it but they don’t know that Summer heard them. Next time Summer sees the reader she’ll all like “can i be your flower girl” “you’re going to make a pretty bride” Then it’s Mason dying in the corner because his niece is going to ruin the surprise

i'm gonna marry you

pairing: Mason Mount x Reader

TW: none

“I want to propose to Y/n” Mason told his sister as she sat across from him on the couch.

“I mean, I think it’s about time. You’ve been together for what- 5 years now?”

“Yeah. I’ve known that she’s my person since we met, but I didn’t want to rush into a proposal and then get my heart broken” Mason confessed to Jaz.

“Mase, I’ve seen how happy you make that girl, and how happy she makes you. I think you’re at a point in your relationship where there shouldn’t be any doubts about your feelings for each other” Jaz spoke, leaving Mason to nod.

“I have the ring already… I just need to plan when & how to do it”

“Well I can’t exactly tell you when, but if you need help planning it, I’m always here to help” She smiled at him.

What they didn’t know was that right behind the wall was Summer, listening intently as she was playing spy & got invested in the conversation. She may be young, but she sure as hell understands what a proposal is.

A few days go by, and Summer is over at you & Mason’s house once again since Jaz had a date planned with Sam. Summer was running around the house, with Mason chasing after her. You were watching the scene unfold from your spot on the couch.

Summer ran into the living room and straight onto your lap. She seemed worn out, so you carefully picked her up and took her to the spare bedroom, which had essentially turned into her bedroom as it was decorated to her liking.

As you put her down, her little eyes fluttered open.

“Auntie Y/n?” She spoke

“Yes, Summer?”

“When you get married to Uncle Mase, can I be the flower girl?”

Mason stood in the doorway, leaning against the frame as he heard your conversation with his niece. His eyes practically popped out of their sockets when he heard Summer speak.

“Sure, princess” You kissed her forehead.

“You’re going to make such a pretty bride” She smiled up at you.

“Thank you, angel” You brushes the hair out of her face slowly as she fell asleep.

Mason hoped Summer wouldn’t ask anymore questions or discuss the topic anymore, as he didn’t want her to spill the beans before he could actually propose.

Mason quickly rushed out of the room and acted like he was in the hallway. You walked out of her room and shut the door quietly.

“Your niece is on another level today” You laughed as you walked into Mason’s arms.

“What do you mean?”

“She was asking me questions about marriage, like if she can be the flower girl. Was just a bit out of the blue” Mason slowly rubbed your back before picking you up and carrying you back to the couch.

He playfully threw you on the couch, causing you to let out a loud laugh.

“Love, you have to be quiet. Summer’s asleep” You flicked him off as he laughed quietly.

"You know I'm going to marry you someday, right?" He said as he traced lines up and down your arms.

"Yeah?" You fingers fiddled with the beard he was growing.

"Yeah" He smiled at you.

You pulled away slightly and looked at him for a moment.

“I love you, Mase"

"I love you more, love"

"Not possible!" You shouted, which caused Mason to begin tickling you like a mad-man.

"So when's the wedding?" Both of your heads snapped to the living room entryway, where Summer stood with a big smile on her face and her teddy in hand.

#✎ natalie writes #mason mount #mason mount fluff #mason mount x reader #mason mount x y/n #mason mount x you #mason mount imagine #mason mount fanfic

[leviathanspain]

Hello! I had this idea for Benedict Bridgerton where the reader is a bit younger than him and quite shy/quiet but loves art and that’s how they meet. They end up starting a secret relationship and as a result she gets pregnant but doesn’t realise for a while (I’m thinking about that scene with Eloise asking how women get pregnant) but when she does she goes straight to Benedict who is actually quite excited and starts planning how they need to get married ASAP

why didn’t you tell me

benedict bridgerton x reader

synopsis: benedict hadn’t been completely honest with you, and neither had you

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

“you love his work too?” a husky voice came up from behind you. you recognized that voice anywhere, and conveniently, it had approached you.

you shrugged, “i wouldn’t say love.” you wanted to be honest but also knew, from your best friend, his sister, eloise, that the artist’s painting you were in front of, happened to be one of benedict’s favorites.

benedict looked surprised as he looked at the painting again, almost as if he had to check that you both were looking at the same one.

you rolled around in his bed, and found yourself hitting his side. a small groan came from benedict, as you snuggled into his side.

“i’ve got to go soon, darling.” he announced groggily, “tea with the family. my sister also announced that you would go too-“ you let out a sigh in reply, “that’s fine. i’ll be there perhaps after i visit the modiste.” benedict turned towards you and raised an eyebrow.

you pulled away from his side and got up from the bed, yawning slightly, “none of my dresses fit anymore. my mother was asking me if i had gained weight but-“ you shrugged, “i told her that maybe i had finally stopped growing.” you began to throw benedict his clothing, catching most of it with his face, he looked at you puzzled for a moment and didn’t say anything.

“i’ll see you at tea.” you opened your bedroom door and called out to your maids, “please prepare a bath for me!” you shouted into the hall before shutting the door, “you have ten minutes to be in the wind before they notice.”

the visit to the modiste had been humbling. you tried to give a good excuse as to why none of your gowns were fitting you, all tight around the waist, but the madame was having none of it. she just fixed your gowns and didn’t say a word as she sent you on your way.

arriving to the bridgerton home was always a planned out event. talk to eloise and the family, be friendly to benedict but nothing overly friendly that would put the both of you into a scandal, especially when you had been engaging in scandalous acts for the past two months.

you didn’t think you would’ve fallen for your best friends brother. but he understood you, understood the passion of art, and even loved to share his interests with you.

“el!” you greeted her as she met you outside the steps. you hugged her and she smirked, “come. you have to help me bug my brothers about the origin of babies.” she tugged your arm and pulled you into the drawing room.

you walked into the room and found everyone but benedict to be already sat. eloise pulled you to sit in front of anthony and colin. she looked at them both and at you, “where do babies come from?” her question seemed to light the room up in shock as her mother gasped from across the room, daphne had stopped playing with her younger siblings as she looked at eloise, her face slightly cross.

“what’s the matter? im just curious! a girl should be curious about these things, shouldn’t she, y/n?” eloise nudged you, and you couldn’t help but smile slightly, nodding along.

anthony and colin both looked slightly pale, and colin laughed to ease the awkwardness, “mhm..” anthony leaned forward and nodded at his mama, who threw her hands up in exasperation.

slowly but surely, anthony explained how babies are made, and as he walked eloise through it, you slowly started to realize a few things.

your weight gain wasn’t just a simple weight gain.

if it wasn’t for this conversation, you wouldn’t have noticed that you hadn’t bled yet at all this month.

you started to feel clammy, your hands sweating slightly as you just fully put everything together.

you silently prayed that benedict was nowhere to be found because you stood up suddenly. anthony scrambled for words but you looked at them politely, “i just forgot- i have to meet my mother for tea!” you gave them all a quick goodbye as you booked it, after you had exited the room, to your carriage, and asked to be taken to the art school.

in the carriage, you fixed your hair and put on a large, heavy overcoat in order to try to blend in, and not stand out as much.

you usually knew where benedict was, and if wasn’t here, he would be at the gentlemens club. but considering he knew he was supposed to be at the bridgerton home, he must’ve been caught up at school.

you stalked into the building and to your luck, benedict was standing in the hallway, admiring another piece of art.

you walked in front of it, and caught his eye. benedict couldn’t help the bulge of his eyes out of his head as he pulled you into a closed off room.

“what are you doing here?!” he tried to maintain his terrified surprise.

you narrowed your eyes at him and he raised his eyebrows, “what?”

“your siblings and i had a very interesting chat today.” benedict nodded, and you continued, “regarding the origin of children.” benedict continued to nod, and you noticed the confusion on his face, “benedict-“

benedict held a hand over his mouth as he put it together in his head.

“are you?” he couldn’t even finish his sentence before you nodded, and from benedict, erupted a shout of happiness.

you looked at him, puzzled, and also afraid that someone would walk in. “what is the matter with you? i- i cannot even begin to comprehend that i am pregnant and you are over here having a celebration?!” you shouted, turning around in frustration.

benedict looked at you, pulling you towards him and hugging you tightly, “you don’t know how much joy i feel right now, darling. but my heart is going a million speed.” he kissed your cheek, “marry me.”

you pulled back, and faced him, “what?”

“marry me. you’ve already got my child, i couldn’t love you more. so marry me.” benedict was now, a smiling mess.

you knew you didn’t have a choice in this. but you didn’t just want to have a secured future, but you knew benedict loved you, and you loved him too.

you kissed his cheek and nodded, “fine. i will marry ypu, benedict bridgerton.”

#bridgerton masterlist #benedict bridgerton angst #benedict bridgerton imagines #benedict bridgerton fluff #benedict bridgerton smut #benedict bridgerton x reader #bridgerton x reader #bridgerton fanfiction

[moonlightazriel]

Say Yes /// Elide Lochan X Lorcan Salvaterre

Summary: The wedding scene everyone was dying to see.

Warnings: None

Word Count: 1,2K

Notes: SJM does have a thing against wedding scenes as we have been denied them so many times, I'm here to fix it.

Main Masterlist

Elide shivered as a cold wind touched her skin, she looked behind her to see Rowan standing there, winking at her as he exited the room and left her alone with Aelin and the others. She walked in front of the mirror, her limp almost gone as Rowan’s power helped her, she made a mental note to thank him for it. Her trembling hands caressed the white fabric of her wedding dress, making sure that no wrinkles would be there.

“You look absolutely beautiful.” Aelin said, hugging her from the side, she was wearing a soft green dress, her crown replaced by a small headpiece. Elide thanked her, looking at her surroundings. 

Yrene was finishing her hair, the curls on a bun, with some loose strands framing her perfect shiny face, the baby bump was showing in the fluffy lilac dress she chose for the occasion. She happily talked to Lysandra, who wore a deep green dress glued to her body, accentuating her curves, her hair cascading in waves behind her back. 

The three females talked, and Elide felt happy having them there with her, her friends, but her heart missed someone, she had sent the invitation but she wasn’t sure if Manon would actually show up, they talked through letters but Manon had so much to do, as did Elide. They both had their homes to recover. 

Three knocks at the door and Aedion’s head popped up in the room, letting them know that it was time. The three females wished their good luck to Elide and she thanked them, looking one last time in the mirror. 

Little makeup adorned her face,  just some shimmery in her eyes, her hair was falling in waves, clipped behind her head, leaving a clear view of her face. The hair clip was made from golden leaves, a treasure from her own mother’s wedding, that Vernon had kept in her family treasure room. Small diamonds adorned her ears and neck, and as she looked at her gown, she almost didn’t recognize herself. A floor-length white gown, a bodice holding her upper frame with small sleeves, and a thin cape tied to her neck. She looked divine. 

“Eli, we have to go, you don’t want to leave him waiting.” Aedion urged. 

“It’s fine Eli, Aedion is just afraid of Lorcan.” Ren laughed and she giggled, opening the door. 

“I’m ready.” Ren let out a low whistle. 

“You look really beautiful.” She blushed. “Can’t believe you’re getting married.”

“Let’s go before I cry.” Aedion said, grabbing her arm and Ren grabbed the other side, her two best friends walking her down the aisle, she might cry as well. 

They walked, but before they exited the door leading to the forest where the ceremony was being held, someone cleared their throat, and she turned around. In a beautiful red dress, hair parted in the middle and red lips. Manon smiled at her.

“You came.” Elide rushed to her, Rowan’s power still holding her leg straight. Manon hugged her, as the smaller woman buried herself against her. 

“You called.” She replied, taking Elide in, she looked so angelic like this, Manon smiled widely, something very rare for the witch. “You look amazing, he’s a lucky guy.” 

“I’m so glad you’re here, you have no idea.” She blurted and Manon nodded. 

“Let’s get you married then.” Manon escorted Elide Back to the males standing in front of the door. “Abraxos is waiting if you change your mind.” She winked and Elide laughed. 

“I’ll think about that, thank you, Manon.” She turned to the males. “Let’s go then.” They grabbed her by her arms, and the three of them started to walk, as a soft melody started to play. 

The guests were seated on wooden chairs adorned with small flowers, the path was covered in various shades of flowers and tiny candles. She looked up at Lorcan, wearing a black attire, his hair in a low bun and he shifted his weight from one foot to another. It was a funny sight. A flower arch was behind him and a priestess was ready to make everything official for them.

The soft music followed her until Ren and Aedion were ready to pass her to Lorcan, he gladly took her small hand, leading the way back to the arch. 

“You look breathtaking.” He whispered, eyeing her from the side, as they listened to the priestess talk. Lorcan felt his hands sweat, and he felt nervous. Settling down for her was the best decision he ever made. He would do everything for her and it would always be worth it. Even if it meant enduring years of mockery by Aelin and Fenrys as he was about to become Lord Lorcan Lochan. 

“You may now say your vows.” The soft voice of the priestess sounded and he turned to his beautiful Elide. A small tear escaped her eyes and he was quick to wipe it away. 

“I was trapped my whole life, everything I’ve ever loved was taken away from me..” Elide started, her voice a little shaken by the memories of her past. “I grew up thinking I would be forever caged, but you showed me freedom, you gave me choice, you make me feel seen and heard. It’s like I matter again. And I love you so much.” It wasn’t much, but they were the words from her heart, the truest feelings she had inside her. 

“I thought that I knew what love was like, how it felt, but no one ever loved me truly like you do. I give up everything I am and everything I will be to be by your side. You shall never know what a day alone feels like anymore. I will stand by you day and night and show my love for you every day because you deserve Elide Lochan. You deserve to be loved and it’s my honor to be the one to do it. I love you so much.” 

Elide couldn’t contain the waterfall that fell from her eyes as Lorcan spoke. The priestess finished the ceremony, telling him he might kiss the bride. His large hands cupped the sides of Elide’s face, bringing her close, his lips brushed hers and he kissed her gently, like she deserved to be treated. Her hands grabbed the collar of his attire, not wanting to be apart from him. 

The crowd roared and clapped as they kissed. They were still clapping as Lorcan grabbed Elide’s hand and guided her to where the reception was going to be. The guests followed them to another part of the forest where tables were displayed, lights hung from the trees and food was being served. The music was nice and calm. 

“Lady and Lord Lochan.” Fenrys yelled, and the crowd clapped once more as they reached the dance floor. 

Lorcan rested his hand on the small of her back while she rested both hands on his chest. They moved, eyes locked on each other like they were the only ones there. The music moved them around and their family watched as they danced, their first dance as husband and wife. 

The first step towards the rest of their lives.

#elide tog #elide #elide x lorcan #elide lochan #lady elide #lady elide lochan #throne of glass #ren allsbrook #aedion tog #aedion ashryver #lysandra ennar #aelin ashryver galathynius #rowan whitethorn #lorcan lochan salvatorre #lorcan #lord lorcan lochan #lorcan salvaterre #elorcan wedding #elorcan #chaol westfall #dorian havilliard #manon blackbeak crochan #moonlightazriel #yrene towers

[beidousfavwh0re]

THEM AS FANFIC TROPES

including: albedo, ayato, Scaramouche, Beidou, Ningguang, kaeya, Diluc, Heizou, Dainsleif, eula, Ganyu, xiao, zhongli, Kazuha, yelan, thoma, Lisa, rosaria and childe

ALBEDO

-I imagine a slow burn fanfiction, like the type of one where they almost kiss on the 50th chapter and then they’re interrupted

-omg and there’s definitely some kind of element where they’re both in denial for ages because they don’t know how to accept their feelings

-they find out about their feelings because jealousy

AYATO

-I’m thinking a ‘spoiled rich kid meets the one thing he can’t just buy’ kinda dynamic

-like he really wants to have this person and has to work for them rather than buy their love

-but it serves as character development as well cuz he’s now just a really sweet person who now sees the world like everyone else rather than some kind of monopoly game

SCARAMOUCHE

-cliche enemies to lovers .

-it’s not even a slow burn. They just realise they kinda do like each other actually. And they understand each other more than anyone else understands them

-even better if it’s dickhead meets even bigger dickhead.

-like they’re just so good at pissing each other off that when they are left alone in a broken elevator they just kinda bond

BEIDOU

-I’m seeing a friends to lovers but one is a big extrovert and doesn’t have any shame whereas the other is an introverted nerd who dies if someone talks to them

-and then they get together and all of a sudden everyone notices the existence of this person

-Beidou invites the person to travel with her and they’re just chilling on the Crux, watching the sea while everyone else is chatting all the time

NINGGUANG

- I SPY WITH MY LITTLE EYE

-Ningguang has a secretary or meets a business person who’s married

-let’s just say they fall in love but the person is married and in a controlling relationship so they run away for Ningguang

-just a shame the person has to be in the spotlight with Ningguang

KAEYA

-I’m genuinely just thinking about one of those high school AUs with the parties in the rich kids house

-truth or dare.

-except the person has to kiss their best friend’s brother, Kaeya, who’s a bit of an asshole.

-kaeya is a year older and is the guy in his year who could get with any chick he wanted but he doesn’t

-turns out he’s shy but still can’t help being kinda rude to everyone.

DILUC

-I’m thinking hero meets villain

-the villain is kinda hot and is the only person Diluc hasn’t been able to just destroy and now they’re on his mind

-then they just keep coming back like one morning they’re sitting at the counter after making breakfast for diluc

-turns out they can’t stop thinking about him too even as everyone’s trying to kill them

HEIZOU

-similar dynamic except he’s forced to arrest a person falsely convicted of murder and he releases them but they just keep showing up.

-not necessarily in his house but when he’s buying stuff, they’re always nearby

-they just awkwardly wave and pretend it’s not like he’s stalking them

DAINSLEIF

-Dainsleif falls in love with the sweetest soul on earth like an absolute angel who happens to be a florist

-but he’s immortal and would put them in danger if they were to be together so he’s forced to distance himself and admire them from a distance

-but they have already fallen for him so he’s forced to protect them for the rest of their mortal life

EULA

-I’m imagining Eula loving someone simple

-they don’t have much going on in their life like maybe they’re just an ordinary baker who gets rude customers sometimes and likes to vent about them

-eula would settle down for a simple life with this person and be able to ignore her problems to listen about theirs

-I don’t imagine this being a complex love story. I imagine it to be a straight forward kinda story that’s just cute-

GANYU

-hear me out

-Ganyu falls in love with some kind of model or actor/actress who is super confident and seems above the world

-Ganyu doesn’t have that self confidence and is just kind of shy around this person. They, however, see Ganyu as just stunning

-they help Ganyu to gain self confidence and worship her

-just some kind of cute, fluffy dynamics

XIAO

-similiar kind of vibes as Dainsleif except I see Xiao being more vulnerable to someone who is also immortal and carries the same burdens as him

-this person is also kind. They don’t chase after Xiao like a rabid dog but were persistent enough to actually get Xiao to talk to them.

-he is able to talk to them about his problems and become vulnerable and they are able to slowly take down his walls.

-I’m thinking friends to lovers

ZHONGLI

-I can see Zhongli searching for some a person that is always there and he knows would never leave so I can’t see him liking a mortal

-I can’t see him having any kind of complex story

-I think it would be another friends to lovers except I can see it being someone he’d recently met that’s immortal rather than a long term friend

KAZUHA

-met at a party hosted by Beidou

-both got high together while everyone else mainly stayed away from the drugs

-woke up on top of each other on the floor, half undressed and limbs tangled

-he gets apologetic about it but keeps in touch with the person and they hang out more and more, especially with everyone else

-I can see some kind of friends with benefits thing happening

YELAN

-okay probably not gonna happen but

-ENEMIES TO LOVERS BARK BARK

-the person is a treasure hoarder that’s plotting against yelan and then yelan catches them and they’re like MOMMY?!

-like mf really expected a Karen with wrinkles and npc features but got the hottest gambler in liyue

THOMA

-just imagining someone who desperately needed help in inazuma like they got lost or don’t have enough mora for something

-then thoma just appears out of nowhere and saves them from trouble

-but this stuff keeps happening and Thoma is somehow always there

-and then they have to help thoma when his vision is almost yoinked

LISA

-bookshop. That’s all I have to say.

-Lisa finds a bookshop and picks out a book to read which the bookshop owner happens to love. Then they recommend a book that’s a lot better and happens to be their favourite

-Lisa goes back to talk about the books she’s recommended and they have really long conversations

-then they’re offered a job as library assistant and take it up part time while occasionally checking on the bookshop and doing small jobs there

-and then they slowly fall in love like just imagine one moment where Lisa and this person are on opposite sides of the bookshelf and their hands touch when they both reach for a book

-and then they share the book like that scene in DDLC

ROSARIA

-just imagining an absolute saint like someone who loves peace and order and can never do anything wrong and then just the complete opposite

-this person who’s constantly trying to be nice to Rosaria and then is constantly denied

-until the person snaps and has a breakdown in front of Rosaria, shouting at her

-Rosaria is just slowly hating this person less

-then Rosaria just kinda changes them

-they start hanging out and they start to just become straight unholy

CHILDE

-I’m thinking something like his story quest

-a complete stranger finds teucer wandering around alone and is concerned so they take him to liyue harbour where they find childe

-childe asks if they can take care of teucer and they say of course because they love taking care of children

-when teucer meets childe again he’s talking about how he wants to see them again

-when they next meet the person has been hired as a babysitter for childe. They take their youngest sister as well so teucer and her can play together

-it doesn’t take long for childe to fall in love

#childe x reader #albedo x reader #ayato x reader #Scaramouche x reader #Beidou x reader #Ningguang x reader #kaeya x reader #Diluc x reader #Heizou x reader #Dainsleif x reader #eula x reader #ganyu x reader #xiao x reader #zhongli x reader #Kazuha x reader #yelan x reader #Thoma x reader #Lisa x reader #Rosaria x reader #childe #Beidou #ganyu #xiao #zhongli #Diluc #kaeya #genshin headcanons #Genshin x reader #Genshin #Genshin impact

[from-memphis-with-love]

Songbird - Ch. 3 - Dinner and a Show

Summary: Valerie and Elvis grow closer. Note: Okay, so there is controversy over whether Elvis actually ate peanut butter and bacon on sandwiches. Some people say he ate peanut butter, bacon, and banana sandwiches all the time. Others say it was just peanut butter and banana. And some (Ginger Alden) said he didn't eat them at all. You decide. Nevertheless, I wanted to include him eating peanut butter and bacon on sesame rolls here just as a fun little Elvis tidbit for the story. Suspend your disbelief, everyone! Word count: 7,800 Warnings: Infidelity; subtle references to sex

My eyes snapped open, heart pounding like a jackhammer. Remnants of last night's fever dream clung to my skin—searing touches, smoky whispers, the ghost of a kiss that almost met my lips. Holy mother of God, did that really happen?

I fumbled for my nightstand, nearly knocking over the glass of water I never got around to drinking. There it was. The ticket to his midnight show. Glossy and real and indisputable proof that I, Valerie Pedretti, professional nobody, had somehow captured the attention of the most famous man on the planet.

Equal parts giddy thrill and sheer pants-shitting terror. Good lord, what was I thinking, playing pattycake with Elvis freaking Presley? A very much married Elvis freaking Presley. I groaned into my pillow. I needed to call Deena pronto before having a complete meltdown.

The phone only rang twice before she picked up, voice fuzzy with sleep. "Val, hon, it's ass o'clock in the morning. This better be good—"

"Trust me, Dee, it is.” I took a deep breath, suddenly unsure of where to start. “I’m not coming home just yet. I’ve decided to extend my stay here for a little while.”

That woke her up. I could practically hear her sitting bolt upright in bed, her curiosity piqued. "Oh? You get a callback for that Sinatra gig?"

I hesitated, biting my lip. Fuck it, no use lying now. 

“I maybe kind of sort of accidentally seduced a celebrity last night."

Dead. Silence. Then an earth-shattering shriek. "ARE YOU SERIOUS?!"

I winced, holding the receiver at arm's length. "Yep. I'm in deep doo-doo, Dee."

"Deep doo-doo?! More like the motherlode! Valerie, you little minx! How'd you manage a thing like that? I want every lurid detail. Emphasis on lurid."

I laughed, flopping back against the pillows. Leave it to Deena to skip straight to the good stuff. "I can't give you all the details yet. But let's just say he's someone we've both heard of. I'll give you three clues. Very famous, very talented, and very, very handsome."

And very married. I of course neglected that little tidbit. If Deena knew, she’d blow her top. Understandably so.

She made a sound like a teakettle boiling over. "You're killing me! You can't just drop a bombshell like that and not give me a name! Landing a whale like that..." She paused, thinking. "Wait... is it Sinatra? Dean Martin? Joey Bishop? Oh honey, please don’t tell me it’s Liberace. You know he doesn't go for—"

"Sorry, Dee, my lips are sealed," I said, trying for coy and mysterious but probably missing the mark by a country mile. "Loose lips sink ships and all that jazz. And I don’t wanna jinx this. I can’t be too... eager."

Deena huffed out an exaggerated sigh. "Fine, keep your secrets, you incorrigible tease. But I'm telling you, Val, when an opportunity like this falls into your lap, you gotta strike while the iron's hot, if you know what I mean."

I couldn't help it, I burst out laughing. "Why Deena Jane Lovelace, are you trying to corrupt me? I feel like I should be clutching my pearls."

"I’m serious Val, you deserve to let loose and have some fun for once in your life. Live a little! Sow some wild oats! Ride that stallion till you break the saddle!"

"Deena!" I mock-gasped, giggling like a loon. "You're terrible!"

"You mean I'm right," she shot back, a smile in her voice. "I know you. You've got a bad habit of getting in your own way when it comes to men. Always overthinking, always holding back. Always tying yourself down to some jerk who isn’t good enough for you..."

I stopped laughing and chewed my lip. 

Deena's voice gentled. "Oh honey. Are you worried about that chump again? Because I will fly to Vegas and smack you upside the head myself. That boy is staler than last week's bread and you know it."

Oof. Andy. 

In the midst of all the Elvis-induced giddiness, I'd almost forgotten about my on-again-off-again boyfriend. Luckily, right now we happened to be more off-again, which meant I was technically free to do whatever this was that I was doing. 

Unbidden, an image of him popped into my head. Sweet, goofy, going-nowhere-fast Andy. If I squinted, his Arby's visor almost looked like a crown. Almost. Andy was... well, he was Andy. A burger-flipping, belch-ripping goofball who could always make me laugh, even when I wanted to strangle him. He was comfortable, familiar, uncomplicated. As exciting as a lukewarm bath.

She wasn't wrong. Ugh.

But Elvis… Elvis was pure electricity. He made me feel reckless, alive, like I could conquer the world in heels and a push-up bra. When a man like that looks at you like you're the only woman in the room, it does things to a girl. Things that don't involve overthinking or holding back.

Sensing my hesitation, Deena gentled her voice. "Look, I'm not saying you gotta marry the guy. But would it kill you to have a little fling? To let yourself get swept off your feet, even if it's just for a little while?"

I bit my lip, considering. Maybe Deena was right. Maybe it was time to stop being so buttoned-up and boring. To take a chance on something wild and wonderful, consequences be damned. I mean, when a choice between an Andy and an Elvis falls into your lap, you'd be six kinds of stupid not to go for the Elvis, right?

"Okay, okay, you've twisted my arm," I said at last, grinning so hard my cheeks hurt. "Operation Ride That Stallion is a go. But if I end up with saddle sores, I'm blaming you."

Deena's cackle was loud and wicked. "Atta girl! You just remember every gory detail so you can replay the highlight reel for me later. And Val?"

"Yeah, Dee?"

"Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do."

“But you’d do everything…”

“That’s my point!”

After promising to give her a full debriefing later, I hung up and started tearing through my suitcase. I needed to put together an outfit that wouldn't get me laughed out of the VIP section. What does Elvis like? I wondered as I pulled out everything I owned, frowning at my decidedly lacking duds. I'd have to go full Cinderella somehow—find some fairy godmother to zap me a gown, pronto.

But before I could do that, I had to at least shower. I spent the next few hours getting dolled up like my life depended on it. Which, considering who my "date" was with, it kinda did. I took my sweet time shaving, lotioning, spritzing myself with my best perfume. Just as I was about to return to the matter of what to wear, the doorbell rung.

I opened the door—only to pratfall over a fancy box from Suzy Creamcheese, the hottest boutique in town. What in the... 

I snatched it up. There was a card taped to the top, my name scrawled across it in scratchy, masculine handwriting. My eyes widened as I scanned the short, devastating message.

"Songbird, let's make beautiful music together. Wear this tonight. I'll be the one in black. Yours, Jon Burrows"

Jon Burrows. The alias he'd used last night. Hoo boy. Hands shaking, I lifted the lid off the box and promptly forgot how to breathe.

Inside was a dress that probably cost more than my entire life savings. Glimmering, body-skimming, hotter than a fresh sin. Draped in hand beading and fashioned of the finest silk imaginable. The kind of outfit that would've given Deena an aneurysm if she knew who sent it. In all honesty, Elvis had probably bought a million dresses just like it for a million and one little chippies. Suddenly, my stomach hurt. 

But I couldn’t help but notice, nestled right next to the dress, a pair of matching stilettos, the slim spike heels flashing like a dare. 

Eh, maybe I could take a Tums.

The dress slid over my curves like liquid sin, the slinky fabric doing favors for my figure I didn't even know were possible.

I twirled in front of the mirror, admiring the way the hem flirted with my thighs. With my chestnut curls artfully tousled and my eyes rimmed in black, I hardly recognized the minx staring back at me. If Elvis's jaw didn't hit the floor when he saw me in this getup, I'd eat my hat.

Still, a niggle of guilt squirmed in my gut as I dabbed on a pat of lip gloss. I couldn't quite shake the feeling that I was pulling a fast one on Deena. She'd blow her top if she knew who I was really running off to see. Not because of the fame, of course, but because of the ring on his finger.

But then again, maybe it was better to beg forgiveness than ask permission. Especially when permission involved a certain married megastar. What Deena didn't know wouldn't hurt her, right?

Right. Confidence bolstered, I sashayed out the door.

*

With a little more than an hour to kill before the show, I tottered down to the casino floor, the click-clack of my stilettos drawing more than a few appraising glances. 

Suddenly feeling lucky, I made a pit stop at the blackjack table. Nothing like a good old fashioned game of chance to settle the nerves. I was just doubling down when I noticed a guy giving me the hairy eyeball.

He looked to be in his fifties, paunchy and balding, with a pinky ring the size of a doorknob. A real high-roller type. And he was staring straight at me, a lewd grin stretching his thin lips.

"What's a pretty little thing like you doing all by her lonesome?"

I shifted uncomfortably, wishing I'd worn a tent instead of a curve-hugging sheath. "Just playing a little cards before the big show," I muttered, looking everywhere but his face.

"Ah, you must be one of those Elvis girls," he said, nodding knowingly. "Fresh meat. Figures."

My stomach lurched. I was just opening my mouth to tell him where he could stick his fresh meat when a firm hand clamped down on my shoulder.

"Darlin', there you are! Been lookin' all over for you."

I whipped around to find a tall, gangly older man in a ten-gallon hat grinning down at me. He had a kind, pleasantly weathered face, the type of face you instantly trusted.

"Play along, sugar," he whispered, giving my shoulder a gentle squeeze. "Looked like you could use a white knight."

I almost collapsed with relief. "Oh! Yes, of course. So sorry, I got a little turned around..." I let him steer me away from the blackjack table, offering a silent prayer of thanks for chivalrous cowboys.

"Chick, at your service," he said once we were out of earshot, doffing an imaginary cap. "I’m with the International. And unless I miss my guess, you must be Miss Valerie?"

My eyes widened. "How did you...?"

Chick chuckled, shaking his head. "Let's just say, ah, Mr. Burrows ain't exactly subtle when he's sweet on a girl. I was instructed to find you and bring you to his dressing room before the show. Reckon that dress is gonna give him the vapors but good."

A pleased flush crept up my neck. Elvis had specifically summoned for me? Maybe this was more than a passing fancy to him. Maybe I wasn't just the flavor of the week...

No. Stop that. Don't go getting attached, you ninny. He's married, remember?

Chick must've noticed my wilting expression, because he gave my elbow a fatherly pat. 

"Chin up, darlin'. I know this whole thing has you tied up in knots, but trust me—that boy thinks the sun rises and sets on your pretty little head. I ain't never seen him so gaga."

I managed a wobbly smile, even as my heart squeezed. Chick was sweet to say so, but he didn't know the half of it. Falling for Elvis was a one-way ticket to heartache city.

We snaked through a labyrinth of hallways and then reached the dressing room door. Chick gave a jaunty salute. "This is where I leave you. You take a deep breath and remember—if he’s foolish enough to let you slip through his fingers, I'll be waitin' in the wings to snatch you up my own self."

I giggled in spite of myself, some of the tension easing from my shoulders. "I'll keep that in mind. Thanks for the rescue, Chick."

"Anytime, darlin'." With a last wink, he disappeared into the bowels of the theater, leaving me to find my seat on shaky legs.

*

I took a deep breath, smoothed my dress, and knocked on the door, my heart hammering in my throat. This was it. The moment of truth.

The door swung open, and there he was. Elvis, looking surprisingly human in a plain white collared shirt and black slacks. His blue eyes crinkled at the corners as he smiled at me, a genuine, almost shy thing that made my insides flutter. He looked oddly nervous, a far cry from the swaggering sex god I'd expected. It was strangely endearing.

"Well, if it isn't my favorite good luck charm!" he said, ushering me inside with a flourish. "Get in here, darlin', before someone sees you and starts a scandal. I can see the headlines now: 'Elvis Presley Corrupts Young Songstress, Film at Eleven.'"

I laughed, feeling some of my nervousness melt away in the face of his playful warmth. "I think you're overestimating my ability to cause a scandal," I said, plopping down on the couch. "The most exciting thing that's ever happened to me was winning a pie-eating contest when I was twelve."

Elvis clutched his heart, staggering back in mock-amazement. "Be still my beating heart! A pie-eating champion in my very dressing room? I'm not worthy!"

He dropped to his knees in front of me, clasping my hands in his. "Tell me, o great and powerful pie queen, what's your secret? Inquiring minds want to know!"

His antics were so unexpected, so at odds with his slick public persona, that I found myself relaxing in spite of the surreality of the situation. This was just Elvis. Just a man. A ridiculously handsome, heart-stoppingly talented man, but a man nonetheless.

We plopped down on the couch, close but not quite touching. Elvis ran a hand through his hair, tousling it even further. I giggled, swatting at him. "Stop it, you goof! You're going to make me ruin my mascara from laughing too hard."

Elvis grinned, unrepentant. "Can't have that, can we? I need you looking your absolute best out there tonight. Gotta show all those other fellas what they're missing." His appraising gaze was warm an appreciative as it swept over me. “And you do look beautiful, by the way. That dress is a knockout on you.”

I ducked my head, feeling a pleased flush creep up my neck. "You shouldn’t have, Elvis. I’m not used to such nice things.” I looked down, tapping my feet in the maroon stilettos he gifted me. Suddenly, I found myself saying things out loud I didn’t want to admit. “When I put it on, I was hoping you’d like me in it."

"Well, mission accomplished." Elvis's smile turned rueful. "Can I let you in on a little secret, Valerie?" he said, glancing at me sidelong. At my nod, he blew out a breath. "I'm nervous as all get-out about this show tonight. Like, shakin' in my boots nervous."

“You get stage fright?”

"That isn’t even the half of it," Elvis barked out a laugh, but there was an undercurrent of tension in it. "Honey, I'm about ready to shake out of my skin. I haven't played a venue this big in years, and I keep thinking I'm going to get out there and just... forget everything. Forget how to sing, forget how to move, forget my own damn name."

My heart squeezed at the very real fear in his voice. I scooted closer. "You? Nervous? But you've played hundreds of shows for thousands of people. You're a pro!"

He chuckled, but it sounded a little forced. "Yeah, well, that was before. Haven't exactly been doing a lotta live performing lately. Feels like I'm starting from scratch."

His knee started bouncing, fingers drumming a restless beat on his thigh. "Truth is, I keep thinkin' I'm gonna get out there and just... blank. Disappoint everyone. Forget all the words, miss all my cues. Make a damn fool of myself in front of everyone." His gaze cut to me, suddenly vulnerable. "In front of you."

Oh. Oh, Elvis.

"Hey," I said softly, daring to lay my hand over his. "You are not going to make a fool of yourself. You know how I know?"

His fingers curled around mine, warm and strong. "How?"

“Because I’ve seen you dance. Even if you forget the words, just do that little hips-swivel thing and no one will care what's coming out of your mouth."

Elvis stared at me for a beat, his brow furrowed, mouth hanging open. Then, like a dam bursting, he threw his head back and guffawed, the sound rich and unrestrained.

"Lordy, woman!" he managed between wheezing breaths, clutching his stomach. "You really are somethin' else, you know that?"

I grinned, inordinately pleased with myself for cracking him up. "I’m serious! Those things are lethal weapons."

He snorted, shaking his head. "You're a mess, girl. An absolute mess." But his eyes were soft, affectionate.

“No, for real. You’ll do great,” I said, giving his knee a squeeze. "The second you step out there and see all those adoring faces, all those people who love you... it's gonna click. You're gonna remember exactly who you are and why you do this."

Elvis stared at me for a long moment, something raw and vulnerable flickering in his eyes. "You really believe that, don't you?" he said quietly. "You really think I've still got it."

"I know you've still got it," I said firmly. "You're going to go out there and give the performance of a lifetime, and I'm going to be right there in the front row, cheering you on."

Elvis's throat worked as he swallowed hard, his eyes suspiciously bright. "What did I ever do to deserve a gal like you in my corner?" he wondered, shaking his head. "I must've been a saint in a past life."

"Well, I don't know about sainthood, but you definitely rocked a mean pair of blue suede shoes," I teased, trying to lighten the mood.

It worked. Elvis threw his head back and laughed, the rich, honeyed sound wrapping around me like an embrace.

"Aw, baby, you're just too much!" He grinned at me, wide and boyish and utterly charming. "Stick with me, kid, and I'll show you a thing or two about rocking more than just shoes."

I felt my cheeks heat at the implicit promise in his words. "I'm going to hold you to that, Mr. Presley."

"You better, Miss Pedretti."

Elvis glanced at the clock and sighed, some of the laughter fading from his eyes. "Guess I better start getting into my glad rags. Show's about to start, and I've got a whole lot of hearts to break." 

I elbowed him playfully. He stood, hauling me up with him. "Walk me to the stage door?" he asked, a hint of vulnerability creeping back into his voice. "It'd mean a lot to have you there, sending me off."

I wanted to. With every fiber of my being, naturally. But good sense won out. “I don’t think it’s the best idea, Elvis. I’m sure there’ll be photographers and—”

“Yeah, you’re right,” Elvis sighed. “Good looking out.” There was a genuine sadness in his voice.

I squeezed his hand, holding his gaze. "I'll be with you every step of the way," I promised. "In spirit, if not in body."

Elvis lifted my hand to his mouth, grazing my knuckles with a kiss that sent sparks shooting up my arm. "Knowing that's going to make all the difference, honey. You'll be my guiding light out there."

I felt like I could happily drown in those bottomless blue eyes, spend the rest of my days mapping the planes and angles of that impossibly handsome face. Emboldened, I reached up to straighten his collar, letting my fingers linger on the warm, taut skin of his neck. Elvis growled, a low, throaty sound that reverberated through my bones. He tugged me closer, until I could feel the heat of him, smell the spicy, expensive scent of his cologne. "Y’know, I've half a mind to cancel this show and..."

My pulse kicked into overdrive, desire threading through me in hot, urgent pulses. It would be so easy to let him do just that, to surrender myself to the dark promise in his eyes, propriety and common sense be damned...

A sharp knock at the door shattered the charged silence, making me jump like a scared cat. Elvis muttered a curse, his fingers flexing on my hips.

"Thirty minutes to curtain, boss," a voice called through the door.

Elvis blew out a harsh breath, his eyes never leaving mine. "Guess that's my cue," he said ruefully. He leaned in, his lips grazing my ear. "To be continued. You can bet on that."

Then, with one last scorching look, he turned on his heel and strode out, leaving me weak-kneed and panting in his wake.

*

The house lights dimmed and the band struck up a familiar chord, and the audience went nuts. Shrieks and whistles drowned out the opening bars as a lone spotlight pierced the dark.

And there he was.

Elvis swaggered onstage in a black gi-style jumpsuit, his raven hair gleaming under the lights, guitar slung low around his chest. The crowd surged to its feet, but Elvis only had eyes for me. He caught my gaze and grinned, a private, knee-weakening thing that set every nerve ending aflame.

Sweet mercy. Maybe Chick hadn't been exaggerating after all.

The show was a dizzying carousel of hip-swiveling, high energy dancing, and electrifying eye contact. Elvis shimmied and crooned and thrust like his life depended on it, but every so often, he'd throw a smoldering glance my way, those bedroom eyes promising wicked, unspeakable things. The same eyes that looked over every inch of my body in his dressing room. 

During "Love Me Tender," he changed one of the lyrics ever so slightly, singing "for my songbird" instead of "for my darling." It was so subtle, I almost thought I'd imagined it. But then he caught my eye and winked, and I nearly combusted on the spot.

I spent the whole show riding a knife's edge of exhilaration and anxiety, every cell in my body attuned to Elvis's sly overtures. He was flirting with me, signaling me, making it clear I was his girl of the moment. And Lord help me, I ate it up like a starving dog.

In the back of my mind, a niggling voice of reason piped up, sounding suspiciously like Deena. "He does this with all the girls, dummy. You aren’t special. He's MARRIED, remember?"

I told the voice to can it. For one night, I just wanted to pretend this was real, that Elvis's heated promises were mine and mine alone. That maybe he really did in fact like my company. Was that so wrong?

By the time Elvis launched into “Can’t Help Falling in Love,” I was thoroughly hot and bothered, my skin humming with anticipation. Elvis took his bows, blowing kisses and reaching out to the sea of grasping hands. My own hands were stinging from clapping so hard, my face aching from grinning like a fool. He'd done it. He'd absolutely slayed. This was it. If he asked me to, I was going to go all the way. I was so keyed up, I barely noticed Joe until he materialized at my elbow, grinning like a fox in the henhouse.

Giddy and practically vibrating out of my skin, I let myself be ushered to Elvis’ suite by a cadre of burly security guards. It was already packed to the gills, a whirlwind of chatter and clinking glasses and backslapping laughter.

I recognized some of the faces from my earlier introduction to Elvis's inner circle—Red and Sonny and all the others from the Memphis Mafia, Colonel Parker looking like the cat who ate the canary, a gaggle of International execs in expensive suits. But there were plenty of new players too—starlets and hangers-on and a surprising number of little old ladies in their Sunday best, clutching Elvis albums to their heaving bosoms.

I felt a moment of panic, a minnow swimming with sharks, but then Jerry caught my eye across the room and waved me over with a wink.

"There she is!" he crowed, slinging an arm around my shoulders. "Didn't our boy knock 'em dead tonight?"

I grinned up at him, letting his easy camaraderie settle my nerves. "He sure did. I've never seen anything like it. I thought that one gal in the front row was gonna faint when he smiled at her."

"Aw, that ain't nothing!" Red chimed in, swiping a flute of champagne off a passing tray. "Back in '56, we had girls dropping like flies every time he so much as moved a finger. Quite a time to be alive, let me tell you!"

We laughed and joked and traded Elvis stories, the boys folding me into their ranks like I'd always been there. It was a heady feeling, being on the inside of something so exclusive, so legendary. Even if it was just for one night.

Speaking of the man himself, Elvis was holding court on the other side of the room, surrounded by a gaggle of suits and coiffed heads. He caught my eye over their shoulders and shot me a wink, his grin electric even from a distance.

I felt that zip of connection like a physical touch, and had to duck my head to hide my flush. Good grief, the man could spark a fire in my belly from clear across a crowded room. I was in trouble.

As if drawn by some invisible thread, I drifted towards him, skirting the edges of his adoring throng. I didn't want to interrupt, but I couldn't quite keep away either.

I was just debating the merits of "accidentally" bumping into him when I felt a gnarled hand clamp onto my wrist. I turned to find myself nose to nose with a diminutive old woman in a pink pillbox hat, her rheumy eyes squinting up at me.

"Priscilla, dear, is that you?" she cooed, her voice warbling with age. "Oh, honey, I just have to tell you how much I admire you! The way you've stood by your man all these years, through thick and thin... it's an inspiration to us all!"

My stomach plummeted. She thought I was Elvis's wife. His very real, very married wife.

"Oh, no, I'm not—" I stammered, my face heating. But she was already barreling on, clutching my hand in her paper-dry grip.

"You know, my Albert and I have been married for 53 years, and I like to think we've weathered our share of storms. But you and Elvis, bless your hearts, you've been through the wringer and back! The army, those awful Hollywood starlets, all those months on the road... it's a wonder you've made it work as well as you have!"

I opened my mouth, desperate to correct her, to distance myself from the comparison. But something in her earnest, careworn face stopped me. Who was I to shatter her illusions? What harm was there in letting her believe, just for a moment, that I was his dutiful wife?

So I simply smiled and patted her hand, murmuring something about the power of commitment. She beamed at me, misty-eyed, and tottered off to accost someone else with her marital wisdom.

I sagged against the wall, feeling vaguely guilty. Borrowing Priscilla's halo, even for a few minutes, left a sour taste in my mouth. What kind of person was I, playacting at being Elvis's devoted wife when the real deal was at home, probably wondering where her husband was and who he was with? And why wasn’t she here on opening night, anyway?

Suddenly, the dressing room felt too hot, too close. I needed air. I needed space. I needed...

"There you are! I've been looking all over for you, Valley cat."

I turned to find Elvis striding towards me, his face alight with post-show elation. His jacket was gone, his shirt half-unbuttoned, his hair damp with sweat. He looked utterly edible.

I pasted on a smile, trying to shake off my guilt like a dog shedding water. This was supposed to be a magical night, remember? My one chance to live like a star, to be Elvis's girl, if only in the shadows.

"Hey," I said, hoping my voice didn't betray my inner turmoil. "If it isn't the man of the hour himself. I'd ask how it feels to kill it, but something tells me you already know."

He laughed, low and throaty, and caught my hand in his. My pulse leapt at the casual intimacy of the gesture. "Careful with the compliments, hon, or my head won't fit through the door. Then where would we be?"

"Oh, I'm not worried," I shot back, finding my footing again. "If your head gets too big, I'll just deflate it with a few choice pinpricks. I'm handy like that."

"A real Jill of all trades, aren't ya?" he drawled, tugging me closer. I stumbled a bit, thrown by his nearness, the play of muscle beneath his shirt as he steadied me with hands on my hips.

His eyes danced with mischief and something hotter, headier. "Stick around long enough and maybe you'll get to show me just how handy you can be."

Oh. Oh my. Was he implying...

Before I could parse his words, he leaned in close, his lips a hairsbreadth from my ear. "The fellas are gonna clear out the stragglers. Why don't you hang back a while, keep me company?"

My pulse thudded heavy in my throat. "O-okay," I murmured, cursing my stammer. "If you're sure I won't be imposing..."

He pulled back just far enough to meet my eyes, something softening in his gaze. "Valerie, trust me. There is nowhere else I'd rather be than right here with you. Okay?"

I nodded shakily, thunderstruck by his sincerity. 

The next hour passed in a whirlwind of farewells and a few more furtive winks from Elvis as he played gracious host. The stragglers trickled out in twos and threes, some of the drunker ones being gently but firmly escorted by bulky security guards. Soon, it was just Elvis, the core crew, and me.

I perched on the arm of a velvet sofa, trying to blend into the scenery as the guys swapped tour stories and ribbed each other mercilessly. Elvis, sprawled in an adjacent chair with a tumbler of something amber and expensive, kept sneaking me these scorching sidelong glances that made me feel like I was the only girl in the room. Maybe the only girl in the world.

Eventually, Red gave a jaw-cracking yawn and hoisted himself up off the couch. "Welp, I'm about ready to hit the hay. These old bones ain't what they used to be." He shot Elvis a significant look. "Reckon y'all got things handled in here?"

Elvis's lips twitched, his eyes never leaving mine. "Yeah, man. I think we're good. Y'all head on to bed now. Me and Valerie here will just... clean up a bit."

There was a loaded pause, a crackle of unspoken communication between them. Then, with a chorus of goodnights and a few winks sent my way, the guys filed out.

And then there were two.

Elvis drained his glass and set it aside, unfolding from his chair like a jungle cat waking from a nap. All coiled grace and barely restrained power. I tracked his approach with my heart in my throat, my skin prickling with anticipation.

He stopped in front of me, close enough that I could smell his cologne, the warm musk of his skin beneath the sharper tang of sweat. Close enough to touch.

He held out a hand, eyes molten in the low light. "C'mon, darlin'. Let's go somewhere a little more private, hmm?"

I slid my hand into his, letting him tug me to my feet and into the circle of his arms. I had to tip my head back to meet his gaze, my hands braced on the solid wall of his chest.

"Private sounds perfect," I breathed. "Lead the way."

His grin flashed, sharp and white in the dimness. He laced his fingers through mine and led me through a side door I hadn't even noticed, into a wood-paneled hallway lined with identical doors.

We stopped in front of one. Elvis produced a key from his pocket and unlocked it, gesturing for me to precede him. I stepped inside and stopped short, blinking in the sudden brightness. It was a suite, as lushly appointed as any I'd seen—all plush carpets and gleaming dark wood and what looked suspiciously like a gilded ceiling.

In the center of the room, a table had been set with a crisp white cloth, gleaming silver, a bottle of champagne sweating gently in a gilded ice bucket. Two place settings. Candles.

My heart did a funny little flip. He'd planned this. Planned a private, romantic dinner for two. For us.

I turned to him, stunned. "Elvis, this is... I mean, you didn't have to go to all this trouble..."

He shrugged, looking almost bashful. "It wasn't any trouble. I just thought it'd be nice to have some time, just you and me. No screaming crowds, no prying eyes." His mouth quirked. "Plus, I figured you'd probably be starving after all that excitement. I know I am."

As if on cue, my stomach rumbled loudly. We both looked down at it, then at each other, and promptly burst out laughing.

"Well, I reckon that's my answer!" Elvis wheezed, clutching his side. "C'mon, let's feed that beast before it stages a revolt."

Still snickering, he pulled out my chair with a flourish. I sank into it, expecting him to ring for room service, or maybe a harried-looking assistant to come scurrying out with silver platters.

But no. To my shocked delight, Elvis ducked into the adjoining kitchenette and returned with... a greasy paper sack?

At my raised eyebrow, he grinned. "What, did you think it'd be all caviar and champagne? Nah, that ain't my style."

He upended the sack, sending a cascade of foil-wrapped burgers and fries skittering across the fine china. The commingled scents of grease and salt and ketchup wafted up to me, and my mouth instantly watered.

"I sent Sonny out for these," Elvis said, sliding into the seat across from me. "Knew I'd be craving some post-show grease. And I figured, what's better than sharing a little taste of home with my songbird?"

Songbird. Oh. There were those damned butterflies again.

"You figured right," I managed, plucking up a fry. "There's nothing better than burgers after midnight. Although..." I squinted at the foil peeking out from beneath a sesame bun. "Is that... peanut butter?"

He flashed me a guilty grin. "Ah, you caught me. Peanut butter and bacon. A little trick I picked up in the army. It sounds crazy, but trust me, it's a revelation."

We dug into our burgers, the silence broken only by appreciative moans and the rustling of wrappers. I had to admit, the combination of peanut butter and bacon was strangely appealing. Not that I'd ever tell Elvis that. His ego was healthy enough as it was.

"So," I said, dabbing a bit of ketchup from my chin. "You were in the army?"

Elvis paused mid-bite, his eyes widening slightly. He swallowed, setting his burger down. "You really didn’t know?"

“Well,” I said, chewing carefully. “I, uh. How do I say this? I never really followed you that closely. I mean, of course, I know your music and all. But the details of your life? I didn't want to pry.” 

He stared at me for a long moment, something unreadable flickering in his eyes. Then, slowly, a grin spread across his face.

"Hey, what’s so funny?”

“You mean to tell me I found the only girl around who doesn’t already know everything about me?”

I felt my cheeks heat. "What do you mean?"

He leaned back in his chair, studying me with a newfound intensity. "I mean, you're the first girl I've met in a long time who hasn't tried to impress me with how much she knows about me. Who hasn't been hanging on my every word, ready to agree with whatever I say just to get in my good graces."

I blinked, taken aback. "Really? That's... that's kind of sad, actually."

"Sad?" He cocked his head, curious. "How so?"

I waved a hand, trying to find the right words. "I just mean... you're a person. A real, flesh and blood man with thoughts and feelings and experiences that go beyond what the magazines print. It's sad that so few people seem to want to get to know that side of you. The real you." I paused, considering whether or not to continue. “It must be really weird meeting new people and feeling like they already know everything about you.”

“Well, what they think they know at least.” His expression softened, something warm and vulnerable stealing into his gaze. "You really mean that, don't you? You actually want to know me. Not Elvis the star, but just... Elvis."

"‘Course I do," I said softly. "You think I’d be eating burgers at 4 am with just anybody I meet? I promise you I am not that kind of girl,” I winked. 

As our appetites gave way to pleasant, sleepy fullness, our conversation turned to lighter things—favorite movies (his: The Way of All Flesh, mine: anything historical), craziest fan encounters (had to give it to Elvis on that one, though my tale of a particularly persistent flasher in Boise nearly made him snort soda out of his nose), best practical jokes played on unsuspecting bandmates (we were both particularly proud of our skills with a whoopee cushion).

We grinned at each other, the air between us crackling with something warm and bright. I felt like I could happily drown in those bottomless blue eyes, spend the rest of my days mapping the planes and angles of that impossibly handsome face.

But as the laughter died down and the food dwindled to crumbs, a tension crept into the air between us. An unspoken question, hovering like a ghost at the table.

I took a deep breath, steeling myself. "Elvis, I... I have to ask. And feel free to tell me to mind my own business, but... what about your wife?"

He stiffened, his jaw tightening. For a moment, I thought he might shut down, might retreat behind the impenetrable wall of his public persona.

But then he sighed, his shoulders slumping as if under a great weight. "Priscilla and I... it's complicated."

I bit my lip, my stomach knotting. "You still love her?"

A long, heavy beat of silence. Then, softly: "I'll always care for Priscilla. She's been a part of my life for a long time. But love?" He shook his head, his eyes distant. "No. I don't think I do. Not anymore."

My breath caught, hope and trepidation warring in my chest. "What happened?"

He scrubbed a hand over his face, looking suddenly exhausted. "We grew apart. Wanted different things. For a while now, we've been living separate lives, barely even speaking except when necessary. I think we both know it's over. That it has been for a long time."

I reached out, covering his hand with my own. "Elvis, I'm so sorry. That must be incredibly painful."

He turned his hand over, lacing his fingers through mine. "It was, at first. But now? Now it just feels... inevitable. Like we were always meant to end up here, no matter how hard we tried to make it work."

As the night wore on and the conversation lulled, I felt my eyelids growing heavy. A glance at the clock told me it was just before six in the morning. Stifling a yawn, I turned to Elvis. "I hate to say it, but I think I should be heading back to my room. It's been an amazing night."

Elvis reached over and took my hand, his eyes searching mine. "Will you come back tomorrow? I feel like we've barely scratched the surface. There's so much more I want to talk to you about."

I smiled, my heart fluttering at the thought of spending more time with him. "I'd love to."

"Great. How about—"

I held up a hand, stopping him mid-sentence. "Why don't you call me and invite me? Properly, I mean."

His lip curled in amusement, a mischievous glint in his eye. "Etiquette, huh? Alright, I'll play by your rules. I'll call you tomorrow night, say, around five-thirty? Room 2806, right?"

I nodded, unable to suppress my grin. "I'll be waiting."

"Lamar," Elvis called out. "Would you be so kind as to walk Valerie back to her room?"

With a final squeeze of my hand and a promise to call, Elvis bid me goodnight.

The next day seemed to drag on forever. I couldn't bring myself to leave my room, afraid I might miss his call if I stepped out even for a moment. As five-thirty approached, my nerves were wound tighter than a coiled spring. When the phone finally rang, I took a deep breath before picking up the receiver.

"Hello?" I answered, trying to sound nonchalant.

"Could I please speak with Valerie?" The unmistakable drawl sent my pulse racing.

I couldn't resist playing coy. "Who is this?"

"Elvis."

"Elvis who?"

There was a beat of silence, followed by a low chuckle. "You're a bonehead."

The playful exchange was just what I needed to ease my nerves. Elvis proceeded to explain the arrangements he'd made—a ticket for the late show and another dinner together afterward. I hung up the phone, my heart soaring with anticipation.

Maybe staying in Vegas a little while longer wasn't such a bad idea after all.

Taglist: @whositmcwhatsit  @ellie-24  @arrolyn1114 @missmaywemeetagain  @be-my-ally  @vintageshanny  @prompted-wordsmith @precious-little-scoundrel @peskybedtime @lookingforrainbows @austinbutlersgirl67@lala1267 @thatbanditqueen @dontcrydaddy @lovingdilfs @elvispresleygf @plasticfantasticl0ver @ab4eva @presleysweetheart @chasingwildflowers @elvispresleywife @uh-all-shook-up @xxquinnxx @edgeofrealitys-blog@velvetprvsley @woundmetender @avengen @richardslady121 @presleyhearted @kendralavon7 @18lkpeters@lookingforrainbows @elvisalltheway101 @sissylittlefeather @eliseinmemphis@tacozebra051 @thetaoofzoe @peskybedtime @shakerattlescroll @crash-and-cure @ccab @i-r-i-n-a-a @devilsflowerr@dirtyelvisfant4sy @elvislittleone @foreverdolly @getyourpresleyfix@gayforelvis @headfullofpresley @h0unds-of-h3ll @hipshakingkingcreole @p0lksaladannie @doll-elvis @tacozebra051 @richardslady121 @jaqueline19997 @myradiaz@livelaughelvis @deke-rivers-1957

#elvis presley #elvis #elvis fanfic #elvis fans #elvis presley fanfiction #elvis fanfiction #elvis presley fanfic #elvis presley fic #elvis x oc #elvis fic #songbird

[donotpush]

Bumpin' in Europe, 2

second part is here. it's been quite a while, so you might want to check part 1 here :) ALSO, some anons have sent asks with suggestions and stuff about the story, just know that i write them all down and i'll keep them in mind for the future ;)

“Yeah. Just tired. And hot. I mean, it's hot in here…”

So hot in here. You finally spoke, able to spit out a few cohesive words before cleaning your throat as your eyes wandered around the room, avoiding the woman in front of you. A safe one, talk about the weather.

“I haven't seen you in years! You’re all grown up now…” Monica said. “Your mom doesn’t really tells me much about you, but she’s right when she says you’re good looking”

Okay, you know what? There was nothing out of the ordinary in saying the truth, telling her she looked good, right? Everyone loved a compliment from time to time, and being kind was always cool.

“I look different, yeah. But you…” your words lingered in the air, and you waved your hand once again, this time pointing at her middle, tilting your head to emphasize the point. “You look different. I mean, you look amazing… congratulations on the baby.”

She got the point, and the ghost of a smile lingered on her lips for a moment before she looked down at her middle, her hand rubbing her stomach mindlessly. At least the elephant in the room was gone.

“Uh? You mean this?” Looking up at you, she frowned. “Oh. No, I'm not pregnant.”

You lifted your gaze from where it was fixed on the floor, and you swear you could almost feel the color draining from your face as your eyebrows raised and you stammered. Then, she laughed, throwing her head back.

“Just kidding, don't worry” she breathed, “Oh, look at you, poor thing. Of course I'm pregnant…”

Walking next to you with a promptitude that surprised you, all smooth and almost graceful movements, she leaned to grab a mug from the shelf on top of you. Standing on her tiptoes to reach Monica let out a small gasp as she did a visible effort to reach. Her shirt lifted, revealing a bit of her belly that was now right next to your face, and you found yourself with your eyes locked on the sink in front of you as if it were the most interesting thing in the room.

As she moved back, her hand rested on your shoulder for support before she briefly caressed your cheek with a reassuring laugh before she walked back towards the sink.

“Terribly pregnant…” she glanced at you over her shoulder before turning sideways and patting her stomach gently. “Twins, actually. Want some coffee?”

She dropped the fact as if it was nothing, an everyday thing. But you already knew that that was twins, you were just waiting for the official confirmation, and you couldn't help but bite your lip slightly at the thought.

“You and the father must be excited,” you said, trying to sound casual and failing miserably. It came out more like a question than anything else. “You both are, right? I mean… kid's always a blessing or whatever."

“Out of the picture,” she clicked her tongue, raising her eyebrows, but the tone was nonchalant. “In fact, I’m not even sure who the father is. Not that I care either way”. She paused for half a second before continuing, her fingers caressing distractedly her stomach, "We're fine as we are. They say three's a crowd".

Oh. For you, that only meant two things. First, Monica wasn’t taken. Not understandable. Who wouldn’t want to marry a woman like that?

And second, the way her tone was light and her face remained straight, free from all shame or from trying to keep a fake modesty as she spoke about who the baby’s daddy was, made you think that she was as sexually liberated as she looked.

Not like she would lack any chances of having a satisfactory sexual life. Even right now, with that heavily pregnant frame that seemed to be the only thing you could notice about her, you doubted she lacked admirers.

Men, women, you were sure she didn’t lack people that would want to share a bed with this woman.

With the last phrase, she turned to look over her shoulder to wink at you. A smirk played upon her lips before she looked away, bending over to pick up a bunch of bed sheets, and you stared at the back of her legs for a moment, your eyes wandering over to her ass.

"Oh, Monica, don't bother," you snapped out of your dumbfounded state as you rushed up to her, ready to help. “Let me take this." You grabbed two bundles of bedsheets from her arms, and after a moment of hesitation, she nodded silently in approval.

“Ah, darling, that's alright, I do love working on my own… but thank you,” She smiled back as she started walking towards the guest bedroom, with you following behind. "As much as I try to deny it, it's been getting harder and harder with this always on the way," she motioned towards the gravid bulge of her stomach. "Good thing you're here. Could use some help with a few things…" she finished, biting her lip and getting lost in thought for a moment.

You nodded slowly, letting out a small chuckle and scratching the side of your neck. The sound made you cringe internally. Well, at least you were having fun this far.

You helped her to tidy the bedroom a bit and soon you had a far better place to sleep than a room shared with a bunch of strangers.

You found yourself admiring the view outside as the sun started to set behind the mountains in the distance. The heat was starting to die down, but there was still that smell of summertime in the air, and you didn't remember the last time you sat outside like this.

"You will like it here" Monica interrupted your thoughts, startling you. "I know it seems a bit boring. But you have the beach, the food is great… you can go clubbing. There's a lot of people your age around."

You took the glass of lemonade in your hand and pressed it against your neck, leaning back into the chair before turning to stare at the woman.

She took a sip of her own drink, and you watched as she placed the glass on top of her protuberant stomach. Your breath caught in your throat as she leaned back distractedly, and lifted her shirt, placing the glass against the bare skin of her belly.

Monica sighed contently, her eyes closing, and you followed the trajectory of a drop of sweat from the glass that slid down her abdomen, running over her belly button before it disappeared on her waistline.

"So" she exhaled, turning to look at you. "What plans do you have for tonight?"

#birth kink #pregnancy #pregnancy fantasy #fpreg #stories #polls #labor #interactive #episode interactive #BIE

[definitelynotafurinasimp]

Number 3 with Yae but the kicker is the reader just blurted it out after she helped them with a problem they’ve been struggling with all day (Also it’d be cool if the reader was close to immune to Yae’s teasing)

“Will you just marry me already?”

Characters: Yae Miko x gn!reader

warnings: none

a/n: I got three different messages requesting Yae with this one, so I guess I had no choice but to write her /hj

I hope this matches what you wanted, if you don't like it, just tell me and I'll try again once I have the time/motivation

Anyway, hope you enjoy!

Yae Miko

Growing up with parents that liked teasing you as much as they liked to breathe air left you quite resistant to others trying to do the same. And while Yae was definitely on a whole new level, causing you to constantly struggle with trying not to lose your composure, with enough time you had gotten used to her methods to such a level that it took her quite some work to get a visible reaction out of you. Not like that would cause her to stop, instead serving as a challenge to her that she wouldn’t let pass by.

You couldn’t exactly remember how long you had spent on your little “pet project”, although you weren’t too sure anymore if you could even call it that anymore, the calming feeling it once provided having long been replaced by nothing but mild frustration at your inability to finish it, the only thing keeping you from just abandoning it being the idea of not actually finishing something. 

This all began a week ago when you thought it might be a great idea to build a small birdhouse, only for the project to increase in size with every stroke of your pencil you made while trying to draw a plan. And while the planning phase and most of the actual construction went pretty well, it just wouldn’t stand on its own, threatening to or just straight up collapsing when you let go of it. 

“Still working on it?”, Yae's voice cut off your trail of thought, forcing you back into the real world as you quickly turned your head to look up at her, your mood immediately improving as you finally weren’t alone with that damn thing. “Why don’t you let it be, seeing as all it does is cause you distress?”

“I can’t. I get the feeling that I’m really close to finally figuring out what was wrong, but I just can’t find my error”, you responded, sneaking one more look back at the not so finished birdhouse.

“Never took you for a person that likes inflicting pain onto yourself, but I guess even someone my age learns something new every day”, she joked only for you to let out a sarcastic laugh afterwards, watching her grab the plan you had made before glancing over both the paper and the actual construction.

“Now I’m not a professional, nor do I have any interest in becoming one, but don’t you miss this little thing here?”, she asked while pointing at a specific part of the plan, watching you as the cogs slowly started to turn in your brain, only for your eyes to widen in joy as you jumped up and threw your arms around Yae.

“You are a genius! Oh, will you just marry me already?”, you praised her before quickly trying to go back and finish your project so you wouldn’t forget anything, only to freeze up after a few seconds, your face turning slightly red as your brain backtracked to think of what you just said.

“No wait, that wasn’t a proposal or anything, I was just really happy”, you quickly tried to correct yourself, only for Yae’s smile to only increase in size.

“What? And here I was, thinking you actually loved me. How naive I was for actually thinking you meant it”, she recited in a dramatical voice only to let out a chuckle shortly afterwards.

Suddenly you felt like an idiot for even considering she might have misunderstood your comment as an actual proposal, your reaction only giving her an opening to finally tease you, the first one she got in weeks.

And by the gods, was she going to use it.

#just a simp's spring event #yae miko #yae miko x reader #yae miko x you #yae miko x y/n #yae miko imagines