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naeverse · 5 months

Text

Stress Relief

🌑staring: Miguel O’Hara x Fem!Reader

🌓 preview:

Blinded to the meaning of his always tensed muscles, excessive sleep, and lack of energy.

Your boyfriend, Miguel O'Hara was stressed and even worse…

Sexually frustrated.

You became even more saddened at the revelation, pondering how you couldn't decipher it sooner with the many red flags in front of you; but with the new knowledge, you, luckily, knew a way that could relieve him of all his stress and exhaustion.

Knew of something that will cleanse him and make him anew whilst in the process, curing the burning ache in your core…

🌔Summary: Lately, your boyfriend Miguel has been arriving home from work with an overwhelming sense of stress and exhaustion, leaving him unable to dedicate time to your relationship or attend to the needs of either himself or you.

Tonight, you've planned to offer the much-needed support and care he deserves.

🌕tw/cw. Bed-Sharing, Blowjob, Cock Worship, Fingering (Slightly) Handjob, Oral sex, p in v (Slightly), Size Difference, Somnophilia,

🌖pet names: Mi amor (My love), Mami (Sweetheart/Baby/Honey)

🌗rating. 18+ explicit I SMUT I

🌘Word count: 4.4k

This request is from a lovely anon, so I hope you enjoy! 💜😊💜

(I do not own any of the photos used! All credit goes to the original artist!)

(This oneshot contains Somnophilia, do not read, if not comfortable.)

Somnophilia- The urge/desire to have a sexual encounter with someone who’s asleep.

**YOU’VE BEEN WARNED!!**

Your boyfriend, Miguel O’Hara was a workaholic.

You discovered his habit upon moving in with the large Latino and noticing his incessant late-night shifts at the Spider Society HQ.

At first, you didn’t mind it, your boyfriend found joy in helping the multiverse through his tech and Spider-Man work, so it didn’t bother you as long as he was happy. It wasn’t until he began to come home after a long day of work with tense shoulders, half-lidded eyes, and a face full of stress wrinkles. He wouldn’t say much, only a drowsy greeting, followed by a tired peck upon your lips or cheeks before he crashes onto any soft surface he lands on first.

His intense fatigue began to build a wedge between the two of you. You missed Miguel, his cute fanged smile, comforting words, loving pet names, and the way he looked at you like you were the most beautiful woman he’s ever laid eyes on.

Now the only thing his eyes searched for upon entering home was somewhere for him to lay his head.

Due to his absence because of exhaustion, you’ve also grown to miss intimacy with him. Even though he was tired, he used to still make sure to satisfy you, but recently, his weariness seems to be too much for him.

Tonight, you sat in your shared bed, a book in your hands. Your eyes scanning the erotica you were reading, full of interest.

Due to your lack of intimacy from your lover, you’ve begun to search for it elsewhere, and thankfully, erotic authors were a thing.

You didn’t know what you'd do without them.

You bit your lip, reading the sexiest passion exchange between two lovers when the all too familiar sound of your boyfriend's arrival via his orange and red portal was heard from the living room. You looked up from your book when you saw his massive being enter your bedroom.

His dark hair was messy on his head and his muscular frame was covered in his red and blue holographic spider suit. He almost touched the top of the doorway due to his tall height.

When his crimson eyes met yours, a tired smile spread across his exhausted face. He walked over to your side of the bed, pulling you into a deep embrace. His burly arms and massive chest engulf your being in his warmth.

“It’s nice to see you after a long day, mi amor.” He muttered, pressing a brief kiss to your lips. Your eyes fluttered close, savoring the feeling of his plush lips when he pulled away. Desperately your mouth followed him, yearning for more as he was already climbing into bed beside you. The mattress creaked loudly under his heavy weight.

You pouted, setting your steamy erotica on your bedside table and turning on your side to face him. “How was work, baby?” You asked, causing him to groan, his eyes already closed. “Tiresome, mi amor.” He said sleepily, your face saddening even more at his response.

You pulled him to your chest, enveloping your arms around his shoulders and beginning to run your fingers through his dark hair. He sighed in contentment against you. With him in your arms, an idea came to your head- a thought that you’ve been meaning to bring to his attention.

“Babe, I was wondering since tomorrow is Saturday, maybe we can do something different.” You proposed, continuing your soft massage on his scalp. “Like we can stay home together, snuggle up on the couch, catch up on some movies and TV shows, and just relax-”

The sound of his soft snores instantly brought your words to a halt. You looked down to see he was asleep, a peaceful look of rest adorning his defined features.

You sighed, a small smile spreading across your lips at his adorable deep grumbles whilst his face was buried into the dark green fabric of your nightgown. You caressed his chiseled cheekbones with your thumb, knowing his inability to fight the sleep that always sought him each night upon returning home.

“Goodnight, Miguel.”

You whispered, pressing a kiss on his forehead and gently placing him onto the soft pillows of your bed. You then stood up, moving over to his side as you frowned at the sight of his holographic suit still covering his body. The suit seemed to be the second skin of your boyfriend as every contour of his muscles and body was hugged by its blue and red digital strands.

Despite the burning desire for him to sleep without such restrictive clothing, you didn't want to disturb his tranquil rest, so you decided to leave it on.

You took the white linen sheets in your hands and pulled them over your boyfriend, tucking him in before turning off the lamp that sat on his bedside table. His side of the room, darkening at the loss of light whilst your bedside lamp still assisted in bringing a soft glow to your space.

After clicking off his lamp and ensuring he was comfortable, you returned to your side of the bed. You climbed under the sheets and drew back the blankets, beginning to read your erotica once more.

As the night progressed and the deeper you got into your steamy novel, you started to become overly aroused.

You couldn’t explain the tantalizing feeling of need and lust that felt like a feather gliding across your skin. The sensation felt just beneath the surface, spreading like wildfire and demanding your attention. You couldn't pinpoint when it started as it crept upon you so suddenly.

With each steamy word, phrase, and action read, your body heated up and your core throbbed in desire. You clenched the novel in your hands, squeezing your thighs together under the sheets in an attempt to control yourself, but it was no use.

You closed the book and took a deep breath.

��What is wrong with me?’

You pondered, never before feeling a deep craving for such intense intimacy. Most of the time you were content with just your steamy novels to cure your need, but tonight, you felt like you were about to burst.

You squeezed your eyes shut, biting your lip harshly whilst sitting against the headboard of your bed. Occasionally your hands gripped the erotic book, trying to relieve yourself of lust, but it felt unshakeable.

You needed touch…

You needed intimacy…

You needed Miguel…

‘I could…wake him.’

You thought, your mind going into a spiral of all the things Miguel would do to you upon awakening and hearing your need for him.

How he'll grant your lips with his long, passionate kisses that you missed so much. How his large hands would roam your body, his every touch igniting a flame inside of you that only he could achieve.

Most of all, your sex-deprived brain imagined how he'd take you.

How despite his loving touch and kisses, sex with your boyfriend was the complete opposite.

Miguel loved to take the lead and enjoyed watching your eyes roll in ecstasy, the trembles of your body, and how one mere thrust of his massive cock could make you come undone.

And that’s what you imagined whilst sitting with your eyes closed shut, biting your lip, and gripping your book so tight, that your knuckles turned white.

You didn't care what position, the pace set, or of a release, being filled by your boyfriend's cock was enough.

It was all you needed at this moment.

To feel him buried deep inside, your walls stretched to accommodate his enormity whilst you felt his warmth and massiveness.

‘Maybe just…?’

You opened your eyes, looking over to take in your boyfriend's sleeping form. How peaceful and content he looked, the rises and falls of his chest and the sounds of his adorable deep snores that left his tanned lips.

He was handsome even in sleep.

The thought once more resurfaced in your head, the urge to wake him and satisfy your needs when you hastily shook your head.

‘Get a grip, Y/N. It's not that important. You can wait.’

You scolded yourself, averting your eyes from your enticing lover and deciding to go to sleep.

You closed the book, placed it on your nightstand, and turned off your lamp. Your bedroom was instantly engulfed in darkness except for the natural glow of the moon through your window.

You pulled the white blankets up to your chin, snuggling up against them as you closed your eyes for sleep.

But it appeared that sleep was playing hard to get tonight.

You were restless.

The lust was too overwhelming and made rest impossible to reach.

You tried to clear your mind, focus only on sleep but the thought of Miguel and his massive cock would invade your mind every time, preventing you from your slumber.

You gripped the sheets tightly, squeezing your eyes shut, trying to calm your arousal and relax; but your composure only shattered when small sounds began to fill your, once silent, bedroom.

Small sounds that went straight to your core, and made you wet.

Your eyes slowly opened, eyebrows furrowing as you turned to look at your sleeping boyfriend.

You thought you'd misheard it, that maybe the arousal was so intense that it had clouded both your mind and sense of hearing, but again, you heard another soft groan leave your lover’s lips.

Your eyes widened at the sight of his face that was scrunched up in ecstasy, yet holding its peaceful look of sleep. For a moment you were confused, eyes trailing his being in search of the reasoning behind his pleasurable facial features and erotic noises.

Upon examining your boyfriend, you shifted slightly in bed to get a better view when something hard brushed against your thigh. You gasped in surprise, springing away.

‘What was that!?’

You wondered in astonishment, clueless about what the object could be.

Gently and cautiously, you pulled the sheets up to peer under the white blanket and your heart dropped at what you saw.

An evident tent was sprouting from the crotch of your lover's spider suit.

You wanted this to be a dream, that you were just seeing things, but upon drawing the blankets back fully to get a better view, you could clearly see the massive bulge under the blue strands of his holographic suit.

You bit your lip, eyes trained on the alluring sight. Your core pulsated, begging to be filled as you couldn't remember the last time you were intimate with your boyfriend. Another series of very familiar deep grunts and groans were heard from him, only coaxing you to do the unthinkable.

‘But…he's sleeping. That's not right.’

You thought, your eyes drawing back to the outline of his huge member through his suit, begging to be freed from its confines and brought to a release.

But the more you looked at his bulge and heard his occasional whimpers, you wondered if this was a regular occurrence.

That may be due to your boyfriend's fatigue, he tended to fall asleep despite his burning need for you.

The thought of him waking up in the middle of the night to relieve his arousal himself, without waking you, tugged at your heart.

You sighed, looking back at your sweet boyfriend.

He needed you and you've been oblivious to the signs.

Blinded to the meaning of his always tensed muscles, excessive sleep, and lack of energy.

Your boyfriend, Miguel O'Hara was stressed and even worse…

Sexually frustrated.

Knew of something that will cleanse him and make him anew whilst in the process, curing the burning ache in your core.

With your decision being final, you slid closer to your sleeping lover, the sheets under you rippling slightly at your movement. Your bare thigh brushed against his clothed one, making your breath hitch and instantly come to a halt.

Your eyes snapped up at him to see he was still asleep, shaky, uneven exhales passing his tanned lips. You breathed a sigh of relief, continuing with your plans of relaxing him and yourself, but you first, had to undress him.

There was only one way that you could get Miguel out of his high-tech spider suit and it was by his technological white watch that adorned his left wrist. Like a stamp glued to an envelope, Miguel never could depart from his multiverse watch. It was one he’d worked very hard to create alongside his artificial intelligence, LYLA. If his watch went missing, he promised you that all hell would break loose.

But now, it was the center of your focus.

Your gaze was entranced by the orange screen of his white watch, emitting a small glow from his left wrist. The burning desire to just reach over and click the irresistible button was overwhelming you.

But you had to be careful…

Frantically, your eyes glanced from the well-lit gizmo on your lover’s large wrist to up to his sleeping face. You followed the pattern of his breathing and when you were ready, you slowly rose on your knees. With a heart beating loudly against your chest, you gradually leaned over his massive, sleeping form. It felt like forever before your fingers finally touched your boyfriend’s sacred watch.

You didn’t hesitate to slide the pad of your finger along the orange screen, remembering how your boyfriend did it every night as you discovered your long-awaited button.

With much fervor, you tapped it.

In amazement and satisfaction, you watched the sight of his holographic spider suit begin to disintegrate from his body, revealing his massive, tanned figure that was covered with muscles.

Though, your triumph was short lived as upon relief of his suit, Miguel whimpered softly, turning to lay on his back. You hastily sprung away from him, not wanting him to wake up and see you hovering.

You held your breath, waiting for his groans to die down to be replaced with soft snores and the creases of his eyebrows to settle once more before turning back to the task at hand.

Your boyfriend Miguel wasn’t just a workaholic, but he was somewhat of a meathead.

He enjoyed long workouts that consisted of intense and extreme exercises in an effort to keep his massive build. It was a figure that you could never get over, and despite what he wore, his muscles seemed to strain under the fabric, demanding attention.

Even now in his peaceful state, they were enticing you.

Begging for you to get a touch, to feel just how solid he was.

You bit your lip, blinded by lust, you placed a hand on his right pec. You moaned softly at just how hard it was, the muscle seemed to have a life of its own as it rose under your palm with each breath he took.

‘Gosh, how did I get so lucky?’

You wondered, unable to just get a touch and beginning to run your hand along the large expanse of his chest, relishing in the ripples, curves, and dips of his muscles. You traced your fingers along every beauty mark and scar, loving how they only seemed to add to your lover’s attractiveness.

The more you touched him, the more your lust heightened. You felt your panties underneath your gown begin to become soaked with your arousal, starting to unbearably stick to your core, but you couldn’t help it.

Your boyfriend’s body was calling to you…

Intoxicated by the feeling of him, you continued to feel his body, moving down his defined stomach adorned with a captivating 6-pack and following the alluring brown trail of coarse hair from his navel, down to his massive length.

You were in awe at the sight, falling in love with your lover’s shaft every time you saw it.

His well-endowed cock was now released from its confines to stand hard and completely erect before you. A patch of coarse dark hair sat upon his base; his tip was an angry brown with a tantalizing vein that bulged down the underside of his girth, leading down to his captivating balls.

You sucked in a breath, glancing back at him to see his face momentarily contort in pleasure to soon relax once more.

You pouted at the sight.

Your boyfriend was secretly craving you, but due to his exhaustion, he was unable to cure his needs. The thought only urged you to continue.

You kneeled beside his huge body, enveloping a hand around his girth and feeling just how solid he was. You gasped, a deep groan erupting from Miguel at your contact instantly made you bite your lip to silence you're surprised sound. You waited a few moments before stroking him at a slow pace and watching for any signs of discomfort to cross his tanned face, but none did.

Breathy groans left his lips whilst his eyes remained closed, his features showing he was still asleep as you proceeded with relieving his stress.

With each stroke, you were slowly becoming more engrossed into your erotic action. You pressed gentle kisses onto his thick, muscular thighs, running your closed fist up and down his enormous member. “Always working so hard, baby mmm~ never giving yourself a break.” You whispered, continuing to fist his cock, speeding up a little. “But I’ll help you. Help you relieve the stress you have packed onto yourself.” You uttered through hushed moans, leaning towards your boyfriend’s sticky tip and licking it softly, finally getting a taste of his salty essence.

A deep groan left Miguel’s lips, his body jerking in his sleep causing you to halt. You looked up at him, your hand still wrapped around his cock as you studied his pleasured face. It wasn’t long before deep snores filled the room once more, his body settling upon the bed.

You smiled, continuing your work at satisfying your lover and sucking his cock passionately.

Your tongue licked up and down his shaft, running only the valley of veins of his base to circle the crown of his tip. You enjoyed how even in sleep, he shuddered at your touch.

Upon rising to his tip, you buried his member deep into your mouth and felt his head touch the back of your throat. You gagged, eyes beginning to water up as you pulled away to catch your breath, saliva, and pre-cum soaking your chin and lips, but you didn’t care.

You were blinded by your lover, driven by the need to satisfy him and yourself.

Hastily, you returned, savoring the feeling and taste of your lover’s shaft on your lips and tongue, a sensation you haven’t had in so long.

You moaned softly, rambling nonsense whilst stuffing your mouth repeatedly with his length, sucking and choking on his cock. Miguel’s soft grunts and groans filled the room with every flick of your tongue and suction of your lips on his shaft, the sounds only urging you to do more.

You stroked him with one hand, slurping and lapping at his length as your other hand slipped into your panties. Your eyes fluttered when your fingers found your sensitive bud, circling it and moaning around his cock. “So good, Miguel. Gosh~ You taste so good.” You babbled breathlessly, your wetness coating your fingers while you pleased yourself.

You whined, bobbing your head along his cock and swirling your tongue around his tip. His grunts of pleasure became more consistent and louder the more you pleased him.

But the longer you fingered yourself and sucked his cock, the more careless you became.

The drunkenness of the pleasure caused the thought of not wanting to wake Miguel to rush to the back of your mind. He felt so good, tasted even better, and your fingers flicking and rubbing your throbbing bud was only the cherry on top.

You moaned loudly, gripping his cock tightly as you wiggled a finger into your drenched entrance. You whimpered, sucking his tip once more and thrusting your finger in and out of yourself, enjoying the sweet friction you were creating.

“Fuck...”

He drowsily groaned, your eyes widening at the slurred words. You hastily glanced over at him to see he was still asleep, snores soon passing his lips once more.

You breathed a sigh of relief, mentally facepalming yourself at being so negligent but unable to resist the spell that washed over you at the sight of his very saturated cock.

It only drew you again.

You engulfed his member in your warm mouth, sucking his thick manhood and discarding your own pleasure to use two hands to stroke him. With closed eyes, you relished the moment, tracing every vein with your tongue once, twice, thrice until it was engraved into your head like writing upon a stone.

“Nngh…Mierda.”

Another whimper escaped your lover’s lips, in his state of repose, but the words only became background noises to your loud slurps and squelches of your throat. “Fuckkk, so big. I-I missed this.” You babbled, moaning and gasping for air when you felt his cock throb inside of your mouth.

You pulled away, watching beads of pre-cum dripping down his base and his abs tightly clench.

He was close, you could feel it.

You caught your breath, your lips and chin still coated in your mixed juices. With hungry eyes, you took in your boyfriend, every muscle in his chest clenching and unclenching, his incessant groans that left his lips and his member that throbbed horribly.

Blinded, you climbed into his lap, his solid thighs easily holding you. His cock brushed against your gown, smearing its thick layers of saliva and pre-cum onto the fabric.

You bit your lip, pushing your damp panties to the side and lifting your hips. You placed a hand on his hard chest, and took his cock in your other, brushing his tip along your drenched folds. You moaned at the feeling soon lowering yourself onto him.

Your soppy walls instantly sucked him in while the satisfying feeling of fulfillment overwhelmed your being. Tingles spread through you whilst deep whines left your lover’s lips.

You looked up at him, his face contorted in a look of pleasure as his hand instinctively landed on your waist. You hummed at the touch, beginning to roll your hips. With each grind, his cock buried deep inside of you, taking the air from your lungs.

At your movements, his breathing began to quicken, his eyebrows knitting together tightly whilst a guttural groan left his lips. Your eyes rolled, his load shooting inside of your walls, painting and filling you up completely. The warmth and intensity made your body shudder.

You lifted your hips, releasing his cock as his creamy essence slipped out of your entrance, eyes fluttering at the sensation.

After catching your breath, you took the blankets in your hands, covering both of your bodies. Exhaustion instantly crashed into you upon your contentment and satisfaction. The lust and need were gone and Miguel was relieved, you couldn't be happier.

Sleep soon overtook you as you snuggled against your lover’s chest, his breathing settling after his release and lulling you to sleep.

The next day, Miguel’s eyes fluttered open. The Saturday morning sun shining into your window and illuminating the bedroom. Miguel oddly felt relaxed, completely refreshed like a free-flowing river after being burdened with ice.

He heaved a relieved sigh when he noticed the warmth that lay upon his chest. He glanced down to see you snuggled up against him, soft snores passing your lips. He smiled, running his thick fingers through your hair, slowly waking you.

You looked up at him with drowsy eyes, giving him a warm smile. “Good morning.” You whispered, the night previous feeling like a dream, but the lingering sensation of being full could still be felt in your core.

“Good morning, mi amor.” He replied, pressing a kiss to your head, your body instantly melting at his affection. “How do you feel?” You asked him, a fanged smile spreading across his tanned lips. “Oddly, I feel rejuvenated.” He chuckled. You grinned, a small blush spreading across your cheeks at your words.

“I’m glad. My top priority is to make sure you are satisfied and most importantly…

Stress-free.”

You said in a suggestive tone, one that your lover instantly picked up on. His crimson eyes wandered your face in thought when his bushy eyebrows rose. “Ah, did you have something to do with this?” He inquired, your boyfriend's intuition, always being spot on. You bit your lip, flashing him a sly grin. “Maybe…” You trailed off.

Miguel cocked his head at you, finally noticing his change in attire and that he was now bare, completely different from when he crashed the previous night. Along with the change, he was beginning to notice a potent scent of your shared arousals, a smell only he knew due to his heightened senses. His smirk broadened at the realization.

“I see…” He smirked, catching on to the little fun you got to have with him last night. You blushed, a little embarrassed. “Mami, no need to get flustered on me now.” He teased before suddenly flipping you over.

A gasp escaped your lips followed by a laugh when you found yourself under him on your bed. He held his body over you, your being much smaller compared to his massive form. His crimson eyes held amusement in them at the sight of your laughter. Miguel looked down to your lips and back up at you, his tanned one parting.

He didn’t say another word, only devouring your mouth with his own. His suddenness surprised you but instantly made you melt into him. You cupped his face in your hands, hungrily matching his intensity.

Miguel overwhelmed and intoxicated you, engulfing you in his burly arms as your lips clashed in a combination of teeth and tongue. “Had some fun, huh?” He growled between the passionate exchange of kisses. You moaned against his mouth, humming in agreement.

He smirked, continuing to messily ravage your mouth and roam his hands down your body. “I've been neglecting my baby, hm?” He groaned, squeezing your soft flesh through the fabric of your gown. “That's why you did it? You missed me, mi amor?” He inquired breathlessly in a hoarse voice through kisses and firm caresses on your body.

You moaned at his touch, nodding at his question of longing. The familiar feeling of need sprouted through your body the more he spoke, kissed, and ran his hands along your being.

He pecked your lips one last time before pulling away, the intensity of the kiss leaving you in a daze. You looked up at him with half-lidded eyes, his skin seeming to be more radiate than ever. His crimson eyes met yours, blown with lust as a fanged smirk spread across his puffy tanned lips.

“You’ve had your fun, mi amor. Now it’s my turn…”

A/N: Thanks so much for reading my oneshot! Shoutout to the wonderful anon who gave me the request, I hope you enjoyed it!

Make sure to like, comment, reblog, and follow! Don't hesitate to request or message me for any ideas or if you'll just like to chat! Love talking with you guys. ❤️❤️

<3 Taglist:

@oscarissac2099 @powerful-niya @szapizzapanda @mcmiracles @mreowmoreww @thedevax @jadeloverxd @lazyotakuofficial @migueloharacumslut @nattywattyy @homewreckingwreck @kinkybandages @prazinos

#miguel o'hara #spider man 2099 #across the spiderverse #the blue panther #miguel ohara #miguel #miguel spiderman #miguel spiderverse #miguel smut #miguel x fem!reader #miguel o hara #atsv miguel #miguel atsv #miguel ohara fanfiction #miguel x reader #miguel x y/n #spiderman 2099 #astv miguel #spiderman 2099 x reader

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cher-rei · 1 month

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Hi👋! I was wondering if I could request a Gavi x reader fluff fic which includes this prompt “I have no idea what I’m doing. Oh God we need a real adult to take care of you”? Basically reader is sick and Gavi says the prompt. I'm new to this blog so I'm not sure if this is how you take requests. Thank you❣️

deep breaths- pablo gavi [ P.G ]

but I promise you this. I'll always look out for you [sparks- coldplay]

pairing: pablo gavi x fem!reader

summary: taking care of you when sick brings more anxiety for gavi than he'd thought.

genre(s): established relationship, fluff, slight angst

[wc: 2.2k] masterlist

notes: I was sick while writing this and I swear I felt the words float off my screen because my head was spinning like crazy. but this prompt was cute as hell so I hope you enjoy it xx

the house was empty— all the lights were still off, except for the blue hue from the swimming pool's lights that could be seen illuminating through the ceiling to floor window in the living room.

a heavy sigh left your lips when you shut the front door, your sluggish strides heavy and painful as you made your way to the couch so you could catch your breath after today's stress.

you were drowning in university work and assignments and have been staying in the library for excessive hours after classes just to get a grip on whatever was piled on you. this was the fourth time this week that you'd gotten home late which gavi wouldn't be happy about at all.

so when you saw that his car still wasn't in the driveway when you pulled up you thanked the heavens and the fact that he was still at pedri's house. he hated when you over-exerted yourself which you were prone to— being the workaholic that you were.

he never failed to give you a heartfelt scolding whenever this happened, telling you that you needed to eat, reminding you to take a break and even resorting to forcing you out of your chair just to rest with him.

but today you weren't ready for that, not with the way that your head was pounding. when you sat down on the couch a wave of relief washed over you and the urge to succumb to the tiredness sat on your chest but you couldn't fall asleep... you just needed to rest your eyes for a minute.

there was excitement in gavi's strides when he got home, wanting nothing more than to wrap his arms around you and not let go until the following day. he just missed you that much to the point where he barely said bye to pedri when he left and got straight into his car.

it was 8:24 p.m. so he knew you'd still be awake, probably in the kitchen baking something seeing as it was friday. every friday you could be caught baking something to distress yourself with a smile and the music playing while you hummed carelessly.

but that wasn't the case today because the house was eerily quiet. gavi didn't like that one bit and immediately called for you, seeing as it was dark. but when he got no response his pace quickened only to find you sprawled on the couch still with your clothes on.

not again, he thought and crouched down beside you.

"amor I'm home," he whispered and nudged you slightly, earning a disgruntled moan from you while you took a bit to wake up.

he watched you sit up with slight worry and it was clear that you hadn't planned on falling asleep judging by your confused expression as you looked around, until you were somewhat coherent.

you looked at your boyfriend with a lopsided smile. "hello baby, how was your day?"

"are you feeling okay?" he asked, brushing off your question and put a hand to your cheek. he wasn't pleased with how warm you were and moved his hand your forehead but you tried to pull it off.

you were screwed, to say the least, because you were burning up. before gavi could even say anything about the matter you pushed the fact that you were fine and tried to stand up. horrible decision. a sharp pain ran through your head and you swore you could feel it in your eye sockets.

a painful groan left your lips and immediately gavi was at your side, his hand carefully around your waist for stability in fear that you were going to fall. "oh no. I knew this was going to happen."

hear it comes.

your eyes shut tightly while gavi rambled on about you being sick, saying that you should have listened to him and not over exert yourself because he knew how bad of a toll it took on you. you loved him, but right now was not the time for a lecture.

"pablo I'm fine." you kissed the back of his hand reassuringly but he couldn't help but feel horrible. "I just need some rest okay?"

"I think you need more than just some sleep baby. this--"

you shook your head slightly, looking directly into his eyes so that he could see that you were fine. "--I'm going to take a shower and then I'm going to sleep. there's no need to worry because I'm fine, okay?"

okay? as if. gavi could see right through you and even though he played it off, the second you hopped into the shower he was already halfway to the pharmacy with his phone in hand, his mother on the line for proper instructions.

he's never actually taken care of someone when they were sick before because funny enough he was always the patient. whether it be an injury or the flu you were taking care of him and now it was his turn to be just as gentle and patient until you felt better.

his mother asked him questions in and out— how high was your temperature? were your muscles aching? were you throwing up? all questions he couldn't answer that well because he just knew that you were sick and needed medication immediately.

"uhm she's hot...? I mean she couldn't walk so I guess so. I don't think she even ate enough to be able to throw up."

the panic in his voice had his mother stressing just as much but she stayed on the line until he got back home and wished him luck because she knew just how stubborn you were when it came to being sick.

when he got home you were sleeping, your eyebrows knitted together in discomfort which made him feel horrible. how was he supposed to take care of you like this? he didn't know what he was doing at all.

but gavi pushed it aside and decided to call it a night and left the bathroom light on just in case. he crept in beside you, making sure to place a soft kiss on your forehead that had gotten significantly warmer than last he checked but he didn't bother waking you.

it didn't take long for him to fall asleep, his arm loosely wrapped around your torso and it was a miracle that he didn't wake up because of all your tossing and turning.

beads of sweat began to form on your forehead and you felt light-headed but still tried your best to at least try and sleep. but you just couldn't, not when you felt this uncomfortable and were in pain.

at some point, you got up for some water to try and soothe whatever you were feeling but then the hot flushes started, and you were struggling to breathe. you were an utter mess, dizzily making your way back to bed while the floor spun beneath you.

short of breath you leant against your bedroom door— and the bang must've been loud because gavi began to stir awake, which was the last thing you wanted. he woke up to the empty space beside him and immediately shot up, his eyes squinted due to the bathroom light being on.

you watched his blurry figure get out of bed, not able to make out what he was saying by the overwhelming feeling of pain and discomfort drowning you. gavi pulled you toward his chest, his hand lightly touching your forehead and neck.

next thing you knew, you were sitting on the bathroom floor unable to catch a proper breath because you were so overwhelmed.

gavi was panicking— his heart racing as well as his thoughts because he just didn't know what to do. the closest he'd gotten to taking care of you was when you were on your period, and his routine had already been drilled in for the past two years you've been together.

he'd have your toiletry cabinet stocked, and your snack cabinet never emptied. your heating pads were always at the ready along with your tea. and your most important necessity— him. you took refuge on his chest in your moments of pain, his hand carefully places over your stomach to soothe the pain.

but this was different. he felt useless, watching you helplessly like a lost puppy.

"it's okay amor, I'm here," he said soothingly and set you against his chest on the bathroom floor, but not even the cold tiles could soothe your increasing temperature.

you fell limp against your boyfriend but fought the urge to break down. instead, a painful groan left your lips, one that had gavi holding onto you tighter in fear.

"it hurts," you croaked while trying to steady your shaky breaths.

"what hurts hm?" it sounded as if he was on the verge of tears and that had your heart shattered. gavi was paranoid by nature, especially when it came to you. so you couldn't begin to imagine what was running through him mind right now.

you took his hand into yours and put it on your chest. "everything. everything hurts."

gavi felt your shaky breaths and sat in silence, unsure of what to say— but he needed to get you that medication immediately. it wasn't going to have an immediate effect and he'd probably have to take you to the doctor tomorrow but as long as it soothed some of your pain.

he got up from the floor as delicately as he could, watching as you tried to sit up by yourself which wasn't what he wanted. "come here, angel." he picked you up with ease, cradling your body gently as you wrapped your legs around his waist and rested your head on his shoulders.

while he walked down the stairs he wondered how you didn't pass out on them on your way to fetch that glass of water. his mind flooded with thoughts like this until he made it to the kitchen and set you down on the island.

"pablo," you said breathlessly and your boyfriend immediately got through the last of your medication and set it down beside you, a worried hum leaving his lips.

he tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, and held the pills in front of you. you counted 4 and took each one as quick as possible, the water making no difference to the cooling of your temperature when it travelled down your throat.

by the time you were done, gavi had gotten a fresh cloth and began dabbing it on your neck and forehead. the two of you were enveloped in silence— your head spinning but your boyfriend's fingers resting on the small of your back, tracing small shapes on your skin beneath your shirt.

it was when you let your head rest on his shoulder that gavi felt the need to speak up, just above a whisper. "I have no idea what I'm doing right now."

your heart swelled at the sound of his half-hearted chuckle because for someone who didn't know what he was doing, he was doing a great job. he'd been so patient with you from the second he saw you lying limp on the couch. he held his composure and handled you so gently, taking the initiative and making sure that you felt at least somewhat better.

he didn't see it, but you did and were so grateful.

you left a light kiss on his neck. "don't say that amor. sure I still feel like passing out--"

"--are you serious?" he asked in shock, an upset groan leaving his mouth as he pulled away from you. "this isn't going to work."

"no baby--"

he was panicking. beating himself up for thinking that he could take care of you in this state, what did he know? he was only a child. "oh god, we need a real adult. someone who actually knows what they're doing."

you couldn't help but stifle a laugh at his rambling out of sheer panic. it was endearing in a way, your gaze softening at the innocent glint in his eyes because he was just so adorable. you urged him to calm down, your voice was soft and warm as you pulled him closer to you.

"are you not an adult, hm?" you teased with a smile and cupped his cheeks, and to your surprise, he said no without hesitation.

gavi proceeded to go on about how he still had you treating him like a baby, that you took care of him and that he was utterly useless when it came to helping you. of course, you strongly disagreed because you did feel better.

he stared into your eyes, trying to calm himself down while you reassured him. "do you not make me feel at ease? safe? comfortable? loved?" you kissed him on the cheek when he didn't reply.

"exactly, so stop being ridiculous."

gavi melted at your touch, sinking further into the crook of your neck for another moment before he took you back to bed so that you could get some sleep.

you rested your head on his chest, legs over his because you felt the need to be that close to him tonight. you felt sleep finally settle on your chest at the soothing feeling of his fingers running through your hair.

"I love you."

gavi's chest tightened at the suddenness. he shut his eyes and thanked the universe that you were in his life and kissed the top of your head. "I love you too, cariño."

#footballer imagine #fanfic #pablo gavi x reader #pablo gavi imagine #pablo gavi #gavi x reader #fc barcelona x reader #fc barcelona imagine #fc barcelona #pablo gavi fanfic #footballer x reader #cherrei writes #fc barca #pablo gavi fluff

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oozedninjas · 8 months

Note

Can we have bayverse toxic traits and red flags? Like the stuff that immediately says RUN about each boy? Also are we allowed to submit stuff like our personal headcanons

Yeah, submit whatever you want

Leo

Overbearing leadership that borders on being controlling.

Obsessive Perfectionism.

Would that date idea be enough for you? No, it needs this and that- and planning never ends.

Sometimes he's displeased with the final result if the occasion was meaningful to him.

Emotional Stoicism: Leo tends to bottle up things in order to be as collected as it's required of him, which might lead to communication problems.

He's kind of an a*hole when he's mad lol

Raph

Not to be begin with jealousy and possessiveness, but

jealousy and possessiveness

Distrust

Emotional Explosions: his temper sometimes plays him dirty, and he can hurt your feelings.

Fear of Vulnerability -should be self-explanatory-

He might avoid opening up about his emotions, creating a barrier between him and his partner.

Donnie

WORKAHOLISM

Overthinking

Donnie's intelligence could lead to overthinking and analysis paralysis in romantic situations

He might second-guess himself and his partner's intentions, causing unnecessary stress and misunderstandings.

My dude fucking licks the pop-tarts and puts them back in the box. Do you need really to hear more?

Mikey

Superficiality: Mikey's fun-loving nature could lead to superficial relationships based solely on having a good time.

Excessive trust, or rather, dependency and fear of being left, makes him allow attitudes that are not right.

Inconsistent Communication: Mikey's spontaneity sometimes plays him dirty, you know? Like a sudden change of plans, for instance.

Naturally flirty!! The times you'd have discussions about him being a bit too nice to other people are mindblowing.

#tmnt bayverse #tmnt raphael #tmnt donatello #tmnt leo #tmnt mikey #tmnt x reader #tmnt leo x reader #tmnt raph x reader #tmnt donnie x reader #tmnt mikey x reader #leo x reader #raph x reader #donnie x reader #mikey x reader #teenage mutant ninja turtles

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sokosmic · 11 months

Text

Where & How You Overdo It:

Jupiter thru the Houses

Jupiter in the natal chart shows us how we attract abundance and where we experience luck in our lives. While Jupiter is considered a benevolent planet and provides us with 'more' of the things that are represented in the house it lies in, because it expands whatever it touches, it also shows us how we can overindulge or overdo those things. The purpose of this post is to point out what one may need to moderate or be conscious of when it comes to the negative effects of Jupiter in the chart.

Jupiter 1st House -

🟡 Inflated ego or sense of self-importance. Know-it-all. Overeating. Over competitive. Aggressiveness. Hyper independency. Extreme fitness.

Jupiter 2nd House -

🟡 Overspending. High maintenance. Eye for luxury items. Hoarding or collecting more than necessary. Materialism. Possessiveness.

Jupiter 3rd House -

🟡 Talks too much. Excessive words. Overthinking/Overactive mind. Big/lofty ideas. Animated/Big gestures. Over involved in neighbor's business. Gossipy.

Jupiter 4th House -

🟡 Overly emotional and/or sensitive. Unhealthy attachment to the Mother, family or childhood. Reclusive or loner type. Stuck in nostalgia or memories of the past.

Jupiter 5th House -

🟡 Gambling or extreme risk taking. Promiscuity. Multiple pregnancies. Extreme leisure. Egotistical or overly arrogant. Bleeding heart.

Jupiter 6th House -

🟡 Workaholic. Giving more to others than one receives. Overly generous. May be OCD or have OCD tendencies. Anal retentive. Overly health conscious, focused on physique or susceptible to extreme dieting.

Jupiter 7th House -

🟡 Gives too much to partner or relationships. Rely too much on partner. Codependent in relationships. Getting into multiple contracts that one can't honor.

Jupiter 8th House -

🟡 Conspiracy theories. Getting into occult practices one may not have fully researched or developed. Poor management of inheritances or creating debt. Hyper sexual.

Jupiter 9th House -

🟡 Overly religious, spiritual, or philosophical. Fanatical even. Too idealistic. Wanderer. Commitment issues. Too direct or blunt.

Jupiter 10th House -

🟡 Workaholic. Places career over everything else. People pleasing to get ahead. Self-conscious of image. Over confident/egoistic.

Jupiter 11th House -

🟡 Strong desire to belong. Needy of friends. Codependency. Overeating. Alcoholism.

Jupiter 12th House -

🟡 Seclusion. Escapism. Delusions. Addictions. Lethargic/laziness. Wrongdoings/law breaking.

#Jupiter through Houses #jupiter in 1st house #jupiter in 2nd house #Jupiter in 3rd House #Jupiter in 4th House #jupiter in 5th house #jupiter in 6th house #Jupiter in 7th House #jupiter in 8th house #Jupiter in 9th House #Jupiter in 10th house #Jupiter in 11th House #Jupiter 12th House #astrology #astrologist #astro observations #zodiac #sokosmic #mykosmiclife

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misshoneyimhome · 5 months

Note

i love the willy kick you’ve been on but can you do an auston enemies to lovers? maybe she’s will’s best friend in it too?

I can always do something with Auston, bb 😉❤️ And of course, as always, I got a bit carried away - I mean, how can you not love this handsome face 😍

Word count: 4.3K

・✶ ｡ﾟ

I'm so furious at you for making me feel this way

"Ugh, he's just so annoying..." you muttered quietly as you entered Willy’s apartment, returning to his place after a casual dinner with the team.

"Come on, y/n, you have to find a way to be around Auston. He's one of my best friends, and since you're one too, I want you two to get along."

For months, William had been trying to build a connection between you and Auston.

Having just moved to Toronto six months ago, your childhood friend William Nylander had been so kind to introduce you to the city. You had happily accepted a new job opportunity, and within a few weeks, Willy messaged you on Instagram after seeing your post about the move.

As children, William had always been one of your closest friends, but due to his moving around, it was sometimes challenging to meet up. However, thanks to social media, you both managed to stay updated about each other's lives.

And as your old friendship quickly rekindled, returning to its comfortable roots, you swiftly became best friends again.

Soon after spending quite the amount of time together, William had introduced you not only to his closest friends but also to the entire team. However, there was a catch – Although your heart might belong to another team, Toronto had to earn a soft spot as this was your new home.

Fortunately, you clicked well with everyone on the team, including their significant others. Yet, for some reason, Auston had irked you from the moment you met him.

He hadn't particularly done anything against you, but it was his smug expressions and comments about your sudden switch in team loyalty just to impress Willy that grated on you. Then, he had the nerve to suggest that you wanted to cosy up to your "so called" best friends to gain entry into the NHL world and snag hockey tickets.

"Probably just to boost followers on her Instagram," he quipped one evening, speaking low enough for only a few people to catch, yet loud enough for you to hear.

However, your intentions were far from that. Fame or social media followers were nowhere near your goals. All you wanted was to spend more time with Willy, and since you loved watching hockey, you were more than willing to pay for your own tickets.

So, from that moment on, every time Auston was around, you saw red. He exuded excessive confidence and an overall air of being too much. Sure, he was a star player on the team, but he wasn't constantly on top form. He had his off days, yet he was terrible at owning up to his mistakes.

To say the least, your thoughts about Auston weren't exactly positive, and his opinions about you weren't any better.

In his eyes, you were plain and uninteresting. A workaholic who seemed to indulge excessively on weekends, not holding back when it came to alcohol. He observed you flirting with almost every guy when out, and your perpetually upbeat and positive attitude was just too sickeningly cute for his taste.

The only reason he put up with being around you was because he recognised how much you meant to Willy and what a good friend you were to him. That, he could respect.

"I can be around him, Willy - I just prefer not to," you quipped, as the two of you headed first to the kitchen to grab a few snacks before settling on the sofa after a long walk with Pablo and Banksy.

"I mean it, y/n/n, I want you two to get along," William sighed lightly, though his friendly smile remained.

"I know, but we just... don't," you attempted to flash a sweet smile as you conveyed your feelings to William. "I can't put my finger on it... maybe it's his terrible moustache that he's always so damn proud of..."

"He's a Movember ambassador..."

"Well, he doesn't limit it to just November," you replied, a hint of disgust in your expression and a sigh. "He's simply not my cup of tea, and I'm definitely not his either."

William regarded you with a thoughtful expression, slowly coming to terms with the idea that the relationship between you and Auston might not improve, although a part of him thought otherwise.

"You know, you two are actually more alike than you think," he chuckled, trying to gently nudge you out of your comfort zone.

"Oh really?" You retorted with a light huff. "And how exactly am I similar to that self-absorbed so-called hockey star?" You raised an eyebrow.

"Well, for starters, you're both incredibly stubborn," William laughed heartily, a point you begrudgingly had to admit he might be right about. "And secondly, you're both insanely passionate about what you do. And you both care about your family and friends..." He continued softly, meeting your gaze as his words began to ease your tense demeanour. "Come on, Auston's a really great guy once you get past that tough exterior of his, and you're a wonderful person too - he just needs to see it. Then, I think the two of you could actually become pretty good friends."

William genuinely believed in what he said, but he was gradually growing tired of the ongoing friction between you and Auston. So, he made an effort to establish some sort of connection.

"Alright," he sighed deeply. "I suppose I can give him another chance..."

"That's all I'm asking for," William chuckled lightly before both of you diverted the conversation and turned your attention to the TV show you had planned to watch.

A couple of days later, you found yourself back in your usual spot at the Scotia Bank Arena, where the Leafs were facing off against the Senators.

Despite your efforts over the past 48 hours to shift your thoughts about Auston, making an attempt for the sake of your best friend William, as the players were announced and his prominent face appeared on the large screens, applauded for his talent, you couldn't help but feel a knot of discomfort within you.

"Fucking twat," you muttered under your breath, fortunately unnoticed by anyone around.

However, as the game began, you shook your head, attempting to push away any negative thoughts about him. You concluded that he wasn't worth your energy and mental space, but avoiding thoughts of him was easier said than done. After all, you were at a hockey game where he played, and his number was frequently mentioned.

Nonetheless, you did your best to ignore it and enjoy the company of other fans, including girls and families supporting the players. The arena reverberated with cheers and excitement as both teams alternated in scoring and taking the lead, making the match almost unbearably intense to watch.

During the third period, the score stood at 4-4, and with just three minutes remaining, if nothing changed, the game would head into overtime.

Your pulse raced alongside your quickened heartbeat as your eyes fervently tracked the play. And just before the buzzer sounded, number 34 skilfully manoeuvred the puck around the skates of two Senators and swiftly shot it under the goalie's pads, concluding the match with a 5-4 win for the Leafs. Which also secured him a hatty for the game.

"Of course," you thought, lightly shaking your head as the entire arena erupted with cheers and excitement, loud applause echoing through the air, and hats being thrown onto the ice.

Following the game, everyone gathered outside the locker room, waiting for the players to finish showering, attending to media commitments, and celebrations, where Auston was naturally announced as the player of the match.

You were engaged in conversation with some of the girlfriends as the players gradually exited the dressing room. And as one of the last to emerge, you patiently waited for Willy.

"Hey," he greeted, approaching you with damp hair, dressed in his post-game outfit. "I thought you had a date tonight?"

"Oh yeah, but we rescheduled since he had to cancel," you replied with a sweet smile and a light shrug.

"You didn't ditch him, did you?" William chuckled.

"What, no, he just cancelled on me. So, I chose to come here and offer my support to my best friend and his team," you playfully responded with a light smirk.

"Alright, well, I just need to finish up some things with Brad, then maybe we can go out for a late-night snack?" William suggested.

"Sure," you said with a friendly smile as William began to walk away. However, your smile quickly faded as a certain Arizona lad playfully joined your personal space, prompting you to turn and face him.

"Already tired of your new victim, y/n?" Auston's voice was filled with his signature confidence, clearly relishing the moment, especially after tonight's game.

"What's that supposed to mean, Auston?" Your tone was sharp and fierce as the tall lad stepped in closer to you.

"Well, just seems like you've been through every eligible bachelor in Toronto, and nobody seems to be good enough for you," a smug grin stretched across his tanned face, his ridiculous moustache curving along his lip.

"I haven't been through every bachelor in Toronto..." you retorted defensively. "Besides, there's nothing wrong with having standards - I mean, at least I'm not like you, poking into every available cunt you can find."

Your words seemed to hit a nerve with Auston, yet he responded with a dismissive huff and a chuckle, brushing off your comment.

"At least I'm getting some action - maybe you could use some too," his chuckle was cocky, and you couldn't help but express a disgusted look.

"Well, I'm sorry I don't sleep around like you do and actually prefer to be with someone I genuinely like," you retorted, matching his smug attitude. Though you knew it wasn't entirely true; you were open to casual hook up now and then, but you did prefer to get to know a person a bit before getting intimate.

"I'm just saying it might be good for you," Auston chuckled. "Besides, didn't you just get dumped last year? I mean, you should be out there, playing the field after ending a relationship."

"I didn't get dumped! And how do you even know about that?" you retorted sharply.

"Willy mentioned it a while ago," Auston replied with a smile.

"Hmm, well, yes, I... we broke up, but that doesn't mean I've given up, you know," you huffed gently, almost desperate to make a point. You understood Auston wasn't the most romantic person, and his confident, boyish manner shouldn't make you believe that all men were like him. "And I especially don't need to go around sleeping with everyone."

You crossed your arms defensively, fixing him with an intense gaze.

However, your stern comment only made Auston chuckle even more. "Whatever, still think it'd be good for you."

And as if on cue, William returned from his chat with Brad, and Auston quickly walked away after nodding to his teammate.

"Hey, you ready?" William asked with a friendly smile.

"Yeah, I'm all set," you replied with a smile, though your attempt to contain your annoyance wasn't entirely successful.

"What was that all about?" He chuckled a little.

"Oh, nothing," you gently rolled your eyes. "Just Auston being Auston."

Knowing you well enough, William merely chuckled and let the matter drop.

The following Sunday, you found yourself feeling freezing, sitting outside on a bench and waiting.

Your date had been rescheduled, and now you were impatiently enduring the cold while waiting for him to show up by the outdoor ice-skating rink the city. The first 20 minutes were bearable; you assumed he was just running late. But after 40 minutes with no replies to your messages and no sign of him, you started feeling rather foolish.

This turn of events caught you off guard. Based on your last two dates, everything had seemed to go smoothly, and you'd been texting each other every day for weeks. However, suddenly, for some unknown reason, he appeared to have lost interest in you.

But you wanted to maintain some semblance of dignity, to believe that he had a valid excuse, and that something unexpected had caused this delay. However, you also didn't want to be too naive. And after an hour had passed, you realised it was time to leave. It wasn't a mere mistake about the time; he had indeed stood you up and ghosted you.

And just when you thought things couldn't get any worse, a familiar voice spoke from behind as you stood up from your seat.

"Still waiting for your knight in shining armour?"

It was Auston. Of course, HE was here. And he'd spotted you.

"Shit," you muttered to yourself as you slowly turned around to face the last person you wanted to see right now.

"And what are you doing here?" you flashed him an unsatisfied grin, letting out a deep sigh.

"I was just ice skating with some friends," he simply replied, one hand tucked comfortably in his pocket to keep warm, while the other held his pair of skates. "So, are you here alone?"

"Why do you care, Auston?" your tone softened, yet it held a deep, sharp edge.

"Just noticed you were sitting all alone from across the rink..." he spoke almost gently, taking another step towards you, a smirk still on his face.

"And what? So, you thought I was looking pathetic, and you decided to come over here with your smug face and revel in the fact that I'd been stood up? Well, I'm sorry Auston, but I'm not in the mood for your annoying comments right now," you said sarcastically, feeling your tone might be a bit more aggressive than intended. However, you couldn't seem to control yourself at this moment. It turned out you were more hurt than you initially thought.

"What... no, y/n, I'm sorry, I didn't know you'd been stood up," Auston spoke, his smirk slowly fading as he noticed the genuine sadness and disappointment on your face. "Honestly, I didn't even know you were on a date; it was just a joke."

Your eyes met his, and you found yourself unable to respond immediately. While slowly, you felt tears starting to well up, but you tried your best to hold them back and not let it show.

"I'm sorry..." you said. "I just didn’t find it particularly funny..." Your arms crossed over your chest, not defensively but more as a way to comfort yourself, as a tear trickling down your cheek, and your heart heavy with disappointment.

Auston's expression had also completely changed. He seemed almost... concerned about you?

In that moment, Auston found himself genuinely impacted by seeing you so vulnerable. You were completely exposed emotionally, and he felt a sense of empathy for you, being treated in such a manner. While you might not have been his favourite person, he also didn't believe you deserved to be treated this way. And it stirred an unexpected urge in him to offer you comfort.

So, without overthinking it, he found himself speaking up.

"Do you want to skate together?"

His words surprised both you and himself. You never expected Auston to ask you to spend time with him, let alone attempt to console you in an emotional situation.

Baffled, you stood there, still in your skates, amidst the cheerful sounds of people skating and having fun around you. You simply stared at the man before you, shaking your head gently, trying to gather your thoughts to respond.

"What?"

Auston chuckled lightly, realising the surprising nature of his question. Yet, a sense of warmth grew within him as he contemplated trying to uplift your spirits.

"I asked, do you want to skate together?"

Though still slightly baffled, you regarded him with a curious look.

"I thought you were here with your friends?"

"I am," he flashed a smile. "But they have each other – you, on the other hand, seem like you could use some company."

You weren't entirely certain what to make of this situation. Was Auston joking? Was he playing around or something?

But oddly, he seemed genuine.

"Why... would you do that?" you inquired, a curious smile forming on your lips, prompting Auston to release a soft sigh.

"Well… maybe Willy has asked me to be a little nicer to you… and, since he's my best friend, and hanging out with him also means being around you from time to time, I figured…" Auston shrugged lightly before continuing, "Maybe I can, I don't know, try and get to know you a little bit better. And since you're all alone, why not now."

You found yourself holding your breath momentarily, contemplating his words. Yet, as you observed him, his smirk faded, gently licking his lips and replaced by a soft smile on his face.

"Alright," you replied softly, meeting his gaze as your eyes reflected the city lights around the rink. “But only if you promise me one thing…”

"Which is?"

"You won't laugh at me skating…" you timidly requested, a hint of embarrassment colouring your cheeks.

"Why would I laugh?" Auston gently smiled.

"I'm good at skating, but I'm also rather clumsy," you admitted, a small smile forming on your lips, and Auston simply replied with a casual chuckle.

"Don't worry, I'll catch you if you fall then."

After putting on his skates as well, both of you headed onto the ice together with soft laughter. And surprisingly, Auston turned out to be excellent company.

Surely, at first, it was a bit awkward. Breaking the tension that had built up over months between you wasn't easy. But gradually, as you continued skating side by side, the atmosphere lightened. William was, of course, the primary topic of your conversation, as he was your strongest common link. However, the conversation then gradually shifted to hockey – what you both liked and disliked about the sport. And soon, you found yourselves sharing personal details, discussing your upbringing and your personal stories.

Auston even laughed when you shared childhood stories about you and Willy, talking about the times when you gave him advice about girls during your teenage years. He then reciprocated by sharing stories from their road trips and the challenges of growing up while playing in the NHL. He delved into tales about his family, highlighting how supportive they had always been, and mentioned being the protective brother and the struggles he faced in finding close friends with whom he could form genuine bonds.

And this sudden display of vulnerability started to alter your perception of him, if only slightly. As you continued gliding across the ice, maintaining your closeness, Auston began discussing how many people in his life had come and gone, primarily seeking his friendship for the sake of public recognition.

You found yourself developing a small soft spot for him as he gradually opened up, revealing a side you had never seen before, one that he probably never showed to the team or to many others. And despite having tried to maintain a distance from him, you slowly came to realise that you did, in fact, know Auston quite well. You understood that he wasn't comfortable discussing emotions or engaging in heartfelt conversations, so this talk was a significant step for him.

Eventually, both of you skated to the edge of the rink to pause for a moment, a brief silence settling between you before you decided to break it with a soft sigh.

"Is that why you said those things about me when Willy first introduced me to the team?" you looked up at him, facing each other, both resting a hand on the border. "That I only wanted to be close friends with him because of fame."

Auston understood exactly what you meant, and you were spot on. That had indeed been his initial thought about you when you re-entered the life of one of his best friends.

With a gentle nod, he softly replied, "Yes."

Another quiet moment settled between you, and it became evident what this misunderstanding had truly been about. Auston's initial desire to shield Willy from a potentially damaging friendship, and your perception of him as cocky and arrogant because of his defensive stance from the start.

Once again, your eyes locked, a bit more intensely this time, as you both felt the opportunity to break free from this tension between you.

"Well, I hope I managed to prove you wrong then," you sighed softly, offering him a sweet, friendly smile.

And Auston simply matched your expression. "You did," he replied.

With a few shared light laughs, the profound tension suddenly dissipated. And a new sensation seemed to grow between you both – perhaps even a potential friendship.

But just as everything seemed to settle into a comfortable rhythm, someone suddenly appeared out of nowhere and forcefully crashed into you, causing you to fall over and straight into Auston, who lost his footing and ended up falling backward onto his back, pulling you along with him. In the midst of the fall, you accidentally collided, your head hitting his face, resulting in both of you letting out loud yells.

"Fuck!" Auston shouted.

"Shit, Aus, are you okay?"

Your head was spinning from the adrenaline rush.

"Yeah, I think I'm good... how about you?"

"Well, I did land quite softly," you tried to offer a light chuckle, prompting Auston to do the same.

And slowly, with a bit of assistance from the stranger who had accidentally bumped into you, both of you managed to regain your footing. However, your attention snapped back to Auston as you noticed something alarming.

"Fuck, your nose is bleeding!"

Auston touched his nose, confirming that it was indeed bleeding from the collision.

"Come on, let's get out of here," you suggested, gently taking his hand as you both stepped off the ice and made your way to sit on a nearby bench.

Auston tried to lean back to prevent too much bleeding, while you gently guided him and then applied a piece of tissue to his nose. Thankfully, you had had the foresight to have a package in your pocket, though not specifically for situations like this, it turned out to be quite practical.

Sitting closely on the bench, you carefully wiped the blood off his nose, feeling a twinge of guilt despite knowing the accident wasn't your fault. And Auston's intense gaze focused on you as you attended to him.

"I guess this wasn't how you thought your date would be," he chuckled.

"Maybe not," you gently smiled back. "But despite the blood, I actually think it's been a rather fun day," you softly admitted, meeting his eyes.

Auston reciprocated your smile, feeling your gentle touch close to his face.

"He's an idiot, you know, for blowing you off like this," he gently spoke, causing you to pause and look up at him.

"Thanks, but I suppose it's just my luck… you were right, I've dated so many guys, and although I promised myself never to give up on love, it's just not always easy," you softly admitted.

"Hey, it's his loss – I mean, you're... sweet, funny, and quite good-looking, so if he doesn't want to date you, he’s the one missing out. You shouldn't feel bad about it."

"You really think so?"

"Yeah... I mean... I know I haven't always treated you nicely, but... I've always thought you were hot," Auston chuckled.

"You're not too shabby yourself," you flashed him a sweet smile, eliciting another laugh from him.

As you sat closely together amidst the vibrant winter wonderland in the heart of Toronto, both of you couldn't help but feel a sense of connection.

It felt odd.

It was as if all previous tension had vanished. You were now just two individuals, engaged in pleasant conversation, enjoying each other's company.

And Auston finally understood what William saw in you. He had never felt this comfortable opening up and expressing his thoughts to someone. No one had ever made him feel so at ease and relaxed during a heartfelt conversation like you. You were certainly something else.

But then clearing your throat, you broke the intense gaze you shared.

"Perhaps I should better get going... it's getting late, and I shouldn't be keeping you from your friends like this," you timidly suggested, looking down at your hands for a moment before beginning to unlace your skates.

With a nod, Auston followed suit, swiftly changing back into regular shoes. Standing with your skates in hand, you exchanged a sweet smile before an unexpected surge of confidence propelled you to lean in and plant a timid kiss on his cheek.

"Thank you, Auston... I really enjoyed spending time with you today," you softly expressed, while tucking a strand of hair behind your ear.

"You're welcome," he replied, exhaling softly.

But then as you turned to walk away, an unexpected desire to keep you close surged within Auston. And with his free hand, he swiftly caught yours, drawing you back toward him, pressing his chest against yours before tenderly kissing your lips.

The kiss was gentle, yet both of you found yourselves leaning slightly into it. Auston dropped his skates, using his hand to cup your face, holding you just a little closer, before slowly pulling apart.

You exhaled deeply, confusion mingling with a pleasant sensation, ultimately giving way to a smile.

"So, I guess this means we're good?" you tentatively joked.

"Yeah... and the next date you're going on will be with me," Auston stated firmly, wearing a wide grin.

"God, you're way too confident," you teased, playfully rolling your eyes at him.

"Maybe, but I know you like it," he countered, raising an eyebrow before leaning in to connect your lips once again.

#my asks #auston matthews imagine #auston matthews #nhl player imagine #toronto maple leafs #toronto maple leafs fic #nhl hockey player #william nylander imagine

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lua-magic · 8 months

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What satisfies your Soul based on Sun placements in various houses?

Sun in first House: Work on yourself, you have good energy, exercise and be active. Eat foods that have cooling effect on your body.

Sun in second House: Work for your family or with family to get money. Try to control your speech.

Sun third House: You will work for your siblings or with your siblings a lot. You have good communication, creativity and marketing skill. Avoid conflicts with siblings due to Ego clash.

Sun in fourth house: Makes you workaholic sometimes, you will do a lot for your mother but will get no appreciation in return. Stay away from your house and from your family as they could be toxic for you.

Sun in fifth house: You will do a lot for the people, you are a leader and love to work with and for the people. Don’t expect appreciations or rewards in return.

Sun in sixth house: You are problem solver. You work great with people and love to come out with new ideas. You are lucky for your boss. Maintain good balance between work and life.

Sun in seventh house: Loves networking, marketing, and meeting new people. Extrovert and charismatic personality could influence anyone.

Married life could suffer due to ego clash.

Sun in eighth house: Deep interest in occult and hidden knowledge. Love conspiracy and mysteries.

Sexual life could suffer r could have multiple sexual interest; Control your desires and five sense.

Sun in Ninth house: Loves to travel and extremely religious. Sometimes you become closed mind person due to excess faith in religion. Become more spiritual rather than just religious.

Sun in tenth house: Loves to work and usually works with masses and governments. Avoid ego in work places.

Sun in eleventh house: Gains from governments, and loves to be with friends and in networking.

Avoid superiority complex and ego within your network.

Sun in twelfth house: Loves meditation and spirituality. Think about foreign travel and settlement.

Control your mood swings and emotions.

Please support me on my patreon.

#spirituality #law of assumption #law of attraction #self love #manifesation #law of manifestation #mindfulness #mind control #loa #self care #astrology #astro observations #astro community

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yjhzies · 9 days

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“You first.” — Hong Joshua

Genre: fluffffff <3 Warning: work stress (to reader) Pairings: joshua x gn!(?)reader (not sure, wrote this long ago 🥰) Word count: 0.6k

You look in the mirror as you close the face cream's lid. As your fingers trace across your lips, you notice how dry they have become. With a sigh, you reach for the drawer, where your lip balm should be, but it's not. You look everywhere for it, only to be disappointed when you can't find it. It eventually gets on your nerves. Was the excessive amount of work you did this week not enough to drive you insane? You're not usually like this. You're never like this.

"Looking for something?" a voice asked as you pushed the drawer closed. Your gaze followed the voice, eventually revealing Joshua. You nod, sighing to soothe yourself. "Lip balm," you pause and lean against the wall. "Have you seen it?" you add. You let out another sigh as Joshua shook his head.

Yeah, it was just a lipbalm, but it just... just frustrates you. So much. Was it a result of working too much? Stress? Exhaustion? No idea. But Joshua's presence did, however, at least somewhat ease the annoyance you were feeling. You shut your eyes, allowing the frustration that was building inside of you to subside.

And that didn't go unnoticed by Joshua. After approaching the bed and putting the blanket over the two of you, Joshua gave you a forehead kiss. A gentle, comforting one. You held his hands as you rested your head on his chest.

"I can't remember where I put it." you mumbled. Joshua lifted up your chin to meet his gaze. Having put on lip balm after practice, his lips were gleaming. Without warning, he shot you a silly smile and smashed his lips against yours, leaving your lips glowing with the lip balm as well.

"There," he smiled. "you don't need a lip balm anymore." he added, giggling. You raised your brows as you looked at him. That was definitely unexpected, especially given how sudden it was. When Shua noticed your pink cheeks, he smiled broadly, proud of himself that he was able to make you smile. Being the cute person that he is, he never fails to make you blush.

"That was... sudden," you muttered, unable to contain your smile, as you rubbed the side of your lip and looked away. "It is a win-win; you got lip balm on your lips and I also stole a kiss." Shua chuckled. And there you were, flashing that foolish smile. Just what Joshua wanted. Wrapping his arms around you, Joshua caressed your hair.

"Is there anything you want talk about?" his voice calm as he asked you. You take a deep breath before replying, "It's just about work," you pause. "nothing much, but I always need to be there for everything... plan things, lead the workers-" you sighed, unable to continue your sentence.

"I know it's easier said than done," Joshua paused, loosening his grip on you. "you should take a break, please." he added. You look at him, unsure of how to respond. "Please?" With a whispery voice, Joshua pleaded as he tightened his grip around you. Sighing, you nod your head as you smile. "Okay... It's not a bad idea." you spoke, earning a giggle from him.

You haven't taken a single break throughout the entire year, so he was correct after all. It would not hurt to take a little break because your business was currently operating smoothly. In fact, it was really good.

Joshua held you close the whole night, reassuring you that it was normal to mess up things or stress out sometimes. But that doesn't mean you'll not give yourself time and become workaholic.

"You should always put yourself first before anything else." Joshua spoke, running a hand over your hair as the moon shone brightly through the window's slightly open pane. "I'm an exception, though. I put you first before anything else." With a smile on his lips, he added.

You smiled and replied, "Fair enough, I also put you first." earning a kiss from Joshua.

#svt fluff #svt x reader #fluff #seventeen #established relationship #seventeen fanfic #seventeen scenarios #seventeen x reader #romantic fluff #oneshot #joshua fluff #joshua x reader #joshua #hong joshua

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androdetective · 5 months

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I really feel like Juanín likes to ignore the bad parts of people around him/his life. He barely complains when he's very justified to do so. He prefers to pay attention to the good instead of the bad, which leads to unhealthy behaviors. Such as letting himself get taken advantage of. Even when people point out (oftentimes in very mean direct ways) he's getting taken advantage of.

Instead, he denies he is. He especially denies being taken advantage of by Tulio.

Translation: "What would you say to people who say Tulio is exploiting you?

I'd tell them that they wouldn't know what friendship is because Tulio, alongside being my boss, is my best friend and even if he doesn't pay me or let's me have free days, he honors me with words of encouragement and noble gestures like when... Eh... or that one time he... or when... Anyways, Tulio is a grand person (my phone rings). Aló (hello) Tulio, sorry, I forgot to make you the bread, I needed to go to the doctor.... My apologies... never again... (cuts) Ah... friendship"

Juanín is very aware of Tulio's flaws. He's gotten annoyed with Tulio many times because of his unprofessionalism and being a jackass. In Juanín's daily schedule, he puts in to go over Tulio's mistakes to correct them later. Which they don't as far as the audience can see.

Juanín isn't dumb and he doesn't enjoy going unappreciated or mistreated. And yet, he still endures it. The time this changed was in the episode where Juanín quit because he finally had enough. At the time, he couldn't ignore the bad of his friends. And this was an impulsive decision he came to regret. Because he missed his friends and what I assume to be habit. He's become used to being taken advantage of. That's what he expects from his friends. It really seems like this is how he views friendships. He has to offer his friends something to be useful to them. He has a canon fear of being left by his friends. I'm assuming his way of thinking is, "If I'm not useful, then my friends will leave me." Which exacerbates his existing workaholism. His workaholism is so bad that he refuses to take vacations (the few ones he does have) and spends a lot of his time at the studio. He spends most of the day working and only sleeps for 35 minutes a day.

Translation: "It's calculated Juanín sleeps 35 minutes daily, which generated an amount of sleep equivalent to a trip to the moon and back"

Juanín gets underestimated and infantilized too often when he's just a very anxious and mentally questionable guy. He's a grown adult who's way more responsible than Tulio and Bodoque combined. Workaholism is caused by excessive anxiety. It is an unhealthy behavior created to distract/calm the person from the anxiety. He prefers to ignore the bad and focus on the positive. Almost with rose tinted glasses. Especially towards Tulio, who for whatever reason he admires deeply.

#31 minutos #juanin juan harry #nero writing #i think im normal about Juanín

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monettsuki · 10 months

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Capitano headcannons

Its all fluff don't worry too much about it

(Edit: I just realized that this may seem like ooc even if like we don't know much about his personality so now that is on my mind what do I do)

he gives surprisingly good hugs - somewhat like a bear hugging you - could stay in his arms forever if it was even possible

if he's hugged directly as he enters the home he shares with his s/o he will melt in your arms - especially if he's had a bad day again and just wanted to relax for once

Light sleeper and sometimes cannot sleep even if it would save his life - basically you have to drag him to bed so he gets at least a few hours of sleep before waking up and getting to paperwork if he has any or training new fatui members under his command (I doubt you could keep him in bed with his physique - easily overpowers people but maybe if you would ask nicely alongside puppy eyes he might indulge in your endeavors)

Before you (somehow) caught his attention (and heart) he might have been ''married'' to either training or doing paperwork - a workaholic basically

If you were a fatui member before you two got together he would spar with you - but not in excessive amounts and would sometimes refuse (especially if you have a smaller figure) due to not wanting to injure you severely

Just me or he would be able to cook well - like he would be a great cook and the other Harbringers would praise him for his cooking skills - you can't refuse his cooking because it would be good , would not mind if you wanted to cook something for him as well (picked up cooking as a hobby as a means to destress after the long days of work)

He would love to have a partner that adores cuddling (i mean who doesn't -anyway) he definitely would love to wrap his arms around you and pull you close to him - would prefer if youre facing him because he adores seeing your face in the mornings

I personally believe the reason for his mask if because he has this huge burn scar on his face and severely hates when people just stare at it (like they did in the past before he eventually decided to wear his helmet) - the first time he actually decided to take his helmet off in front of you he was genuienly terrified for the reaction you would have seeing his face

I feel like he's an introverted person but enjoys doing the leadership things that are required for him as a Harbringer - that being said he doesn't show any kind of emotion even with his tone of voice and prefers it that way but with you he might actually show a softer side (especially due to also being able to see his face so he knows he can trust you)

He likes having someone run his fingers through his hair when he is exhausted after a day of work 100% - the feel of your fingers brushing through his hair is so calming for him - would lay his head on your chest to hear your heartbeat so he knows youre actually there and then when you start running your fingers through his hair he just melts in seconds

Would probably like to pet dogs on the street - especially the fluffy ones but he knows he can't have one dude e to probably both of you being to busy to take care of it 90% of the time - but it's alright because the dogs he pets is enough for him

At first he wouldn't be that fond of hugs, cuddles or anything really that included physical touch between the two of you touch starved most likely - but gradually he would start greatly enjoying your affection towards him

Likes mint and black tea but mainly drinks coffee to keep himself awake

I feel like once you enter his life and he gets used to your presence - especially cuddling with you and the feeling of him holding you in his arms he would have trouble sleeping if you're not there with him so he can hold you - would also probably be a bit worried if you're on a mission because who knows what can happen

On missions he would usually be accompanying your team and since you'd be his right hand (you should also have the skill for that because then it would get really suspicious if you were that but lacked the combat skills) most probably he would have the reason to do so - his reasoning would just be that he wants to make sure it all goes smoothly (also doesn't want anything to happen to you)

If you have any insecurities he would most likely try to make you feel better about yourself with compliments and praise - he would hug you and pat your head while he tells you all of that for added comfort

That's all goodbye 💙

#genshin headcanons #fatui x reader #genshin fatui #fatui harbringers #genshin impact #gn reader #capitano #capitano x reader #fatui x you

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crash-and-cure · 1 year

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Hallelujah (Yandere!Austin!Elvis x Reader)

Gif credit to @troubleinapinksuit

Summary: In which Cinderella is a no-nonsense, semi-workaholic nurse and Prince Charming is a drug-addicted rockstar on a downward spiral and newly discovered obsessive tendencies. Truly a fairy tale worthy of sin city.

A/N: Anybody ever open up requests and then disappear for like two weeks or am I alone? I promise that the next ones should be out sooner than this one at the cost of being shorter, but I came up with the opening line and I just went off. Did you know that gatorade used to be in glass bottles? It makes sense but it’s a weird thing to think about. Why am I telling you all this? Becuase I did about twenty minutes of research on this topic for a detail that ultimately did not make it into this story so this is my way of making up for it to myself.

Warnings: Depictions of a person experiencing and accepting death. Depictions and POV of a person experiencing an overdose. Non-consensual drugging for both Elvis and the reader. Dubious consent (Please note this is not related to the non-consensual drugging, this is here due to alcohol and false pretenses being involved). Yandere!Elvis so expect themes of obsessive, manipulative, and delusional behavior. Kidnapping. Explicit sexual content depicted that includes Penetrative sex (m/f), oral sex (f.recieving), and worship kink. Mentions of religion that borders on zealotry and a bible quote. Self-blame. Probably more that I am blanking on. Excessive use of “Angel” as a nickname for the reader. Please do not interact if you are under 18.

Word Count: 10.8k

My Masterlist

They don’t know, Elvis thinks as he starts to sway. These folks don’t know they’re watching a murder.

Elvis can feel it in his bones, that this stage is where he’s going to die. To be honest he felt it maybe five songs ago. He almost takes comfort in how fitting it is, that his life was a stage and now it’s gonna end on one.

He knows he should want to fight it, if not for himself then for Lisa, Priscilla, his daddy, Dodger, somebody else who relies on him, anybody really. But he's so goddamn tired of all of it, and he just wants to rest.

Not even an hour ago he had learned the hard truth about that son of a bitch. How he’s lied to him for years, and how that rat bastard clipped his wings. He had originally come out here with the intention of giving a hell of a performance, firing that asshole right up here, walking off stage and leaving Vegas forever.

But I’ll show him. I’ll show ‘em all, he thinks hazily. I’m gon’ fly away from here, maybe all the way to the rock of eternity if I can.

“I’d like to turn the house lights down,” he says like he has a hundred times before. “Now that you’ve seen me I’d like to take a look atchu.”

He had made that plan before his tongue started feeling like sandpaper in his mouth, his head started spinning like a top, and breathing became far more laborious than he remembers it ever being. He idly wonders if this is how his mama felt when she went. He can probably ask her when he sees her soon. Dying up here doesn’t scare him too much anymore now that he’s had time to accept that that is what's happening. So he figured if this was going to be his last performance, this was undoubtedly going to be his best one.

He never understood that phrase swan song, why sing when you know you’re going to die? But the better question now is why not sing when you know you’re going to die? Why not declare I’m dying and I want everybody to see it?

Let them watch, he thinks venomously as he breathes heavily into the mic for what will most definitely be the last time. Let them all witness what “Colonel Tom Parker” did to me.

“Ladies and Gentleman, you’ve been a lovely audience,” he says, hoping it doesn’t sound too slurred. “Thank you.”

In that single moment before he knows he’s going to collapse he looks one last time out into the audience he loved so much, but his blurry vision makes it impossible to see most of them. This is what he chose, this is who he chose over, everything his family, his friends, his health. The fact he can’t even see most of them, hurts him in a way that the drugs can’t mask. It’s cruel yet fitting really, this is nothing less than he deserves.

But in a sea of faces that all blur and blend together the one thing he can clearly see is you. You’re standing in the front row, your brows drawn together and concern marring your beautiful face, something he appreciates so that he can at least leave this earth knowing that at least someone cared. You're dressed in a pure white dress, something much more simple than he's used to from the women that attend his shows. Even amongst the women you’re surrounded by, you stand out as a daisy in a bed of roses, he’s glad at least the last thing he’ll ever see is something so beautiful.

It gets windy all of a sudden, as he feels cool air blow against the side of his face.

No… wait… he’s just falling.

He hasn’t been sleeping much in the past few days, but if there was ever a time to do so, now feels like the perfect time for it. He simply waits for the inevitable feeling of his head hitting the stage, though with everything he took before coming out here he doubts he’ll even be able to feel that.

But it never comes. Instead he feels his head being cradled in a soft hand, and he opens his heavy eyelids and you’re there again. He watches as you use the table to scramble onto the stage before the curtains close, and he sees you up close for the first time. He doesn’t know if it’s from the spotlight behind you outlining your silhouette or something else entirely, but having a better look at you, your beauty goes from simple to nothing short of otherworldly.

An angel? He thinks blearily. Mama always did say they would be beautiful. He can see that you’re saying something, but his head is too muddled to process any of it.

So you’re here to take me away from this awful place, he thinks with a small smile. He didn’t like to think about death too much before he was faced with. He is was a firm believer in a heaven and hell, and many things he’s done in his life have more than earned him a spot down below. But you’re here now so it couldn’t have been all that bad in the grand scheme of things.

He reaches out to touch you and you grab onto his hand, look at it for just a second. He sees your worry grow as you get in closer to his face and he feels your feather-like but oh-so warm touch to his lips that feel so cold now. He feels other hands on him now trying to lift him up, and he notices his crew around him, but all he can focus on is you. It’s hard not to when you physically keep one of his eyes open, and he sees your worry go into full blown panic.

He tries, but it’s getting hard to breathe let alone speak right now. Please, he wants to say, don’t leave me with them. All he’s able to do to convey this message is a pathetic squeeze to your hand, and suddenly you’re gone just as quickly as you came. He feels his eyes well up so afraid now he’ll die without you there.

Everybody is surrounding him now trying to speak to him, but he’s desperately looking for you, and he feels as though there’s something he’s forgetting to do but he can’t remember what. Jerry comes into view and his mouth is moving and it looks like he’s shouting but nothing is coming out. Billy is there taking off his jacket, bunching it up underneath his head but still he can’t see you. Red’s slapping his face while Charlie’s pouring water on it, though he barely feels either of them. Everybody’s trying something, trying to save him, but he’s only concerned about you finding him and taking him away from here.

All these hands are touching him, most of them he doesn’t know, or at least doesn’t recognize. Maybe he is going to hell or fuck, maybe Vegas is hell for all he knows. It makes about as much sense as everything else in his life, which he doesn’t need to worry about for much longer. He feels like there’s something he’s supposed to be doing right about now but he’s too goddamn tired for any of it anymore and he wants to close his eyes until he sees you once again.

You look more disheveled than he remembers and now you’re furiously swatting at all of the hands on him as you shout at all of them. He feels your hands on his chest now and you’re pressing down repeatedly, before he can even speculate what you’re doing he feels your lips on his and it’s the warmest he thinks he’s ever felt. The kind of warmth that fills up his whole chest…

Oh right… he needs to breathe.

It feels as though he blinks and suddenly he smells the familiar tobacco scent of the casino. He still feels like he’s on his back but he’s floating and you’re above him the harsh lights of the casino floor giving him a better look at you. I was right, he thinks. You’re going to take me away from here. Satisfied with his assumption, he closes his eyes for what feels like the final time and he can feel his lips curve into a smile as your lips meet his once more.

Suddenly what feels like a bolt of lightning strikes through him, and his eyes are wide open again. For a few seconds, everything looks and sounds so much clearer, his muscles seem to have finally woken up, and his breathing has become far steadier. Is this what Captain Marvel Jr. felt like when he would say Shazam? It had to be because in those few moments he felt as though he could take on the world, especially when he finally gets a good look at you.

You’re hovering over him and the smile you give him would have made him weak in the knees if they weren’t already so. He reaches out, desperate to touch you but he feels darkness creep back into the edge of his vision once more. He knows he’s going to pass out right before he does, but he still tries only barely grazing your neck before the weight of his arm becomes too much to bear. But his hand catches on something before it eventually gives way and it finally falls.

He feels something in his hand but he’s far too tired to speculate, only using the last of both his conscious thoughts and strength to grip on tight to it. But he loses the strength to even keep his eyes open and he blacks out.

He can’t open his eyes, but he’s awake. Though that comes and goes and even then there isn’t much to say about it. He hears a mix of familiar and unfamiliar voices, the bed and sheets he’s laying in aren’t as comfy as he’s used to, and all he can smell is an oddly sterile smell. But something he can definitely feel is your parting gift in his grasp. Everytime he feels conscious he would focus on that and spend his energy trying to figure out what it was in his hand.

Ironically enough what does bring him back to the waking world is when he feels a small hand trying to remove it from him. His eyes snap open to try to find the culprit only to be met with his own blue eyes staring back at him.

“DADDY!” Lisa Marie sobs into his chest. “You’re awake!”

The next hour or so is a flurry of activity with doctors and nurses surrounding him asking him questions and checking the various machines around him. Now that he’s awake he is able to get a good look at what you left him: A small crescent made of smooth white stone and a very broken gold chain.

You were real, he thinks, practically giddy before he’s quickly brought back to Earth as he searches the room only to find you’re not there. Even seeing Priscilla after so long since the divorce doesn’t do much to soften his disappointment at your absence.

“‘Cilla what the hell happened that night?” he would ask after Lisa had fallen asleep tucked into his side. He had avoided the topic as long as he could stand by this point, the doctors keeping quiet about it.

She takes a long sigh, her eyes glassy, before she gazes out the window and upon seeing the International in the distance she hardens herself for what she has to say. “You stopped breathing. From what the doctors here told me, Dr. Nick gave you way too much of something and you just stopped. There was a girl in the front row that was able to keep you goin’ until the ambulance got there.”

“Who was she? The girl who saved me.”

Priscilla shrugs at this, “Just some nurse.”

She has never been more wrong about anything, Elvis decides at that moment. “What was her name?” Elvis questions, maybe a little harsher than needed.

Priscilla looks slightly taken aback at his intensity, “I don’t know Elvis. I got here the day after you collapsed and when I learned what she did, I wanted to thank her personally. But even the guys say she was long gone by the time they got here the same night.”

This makes him incredibly sad, that you would leave him so soon after you saved him.

“Elvis,” Priscilla says severely. “I’m not going to put Lisa through this again. So either you shape up and go to that place in San Diego, or…” she cracks at this one. “Or you’ll never see either of us again.” It’s certainly not a light threat for her to make, Elvis realizes, but nobody wants to watch a person slowly kill themself. And as he rubs his thumb along the pendant of your necklace, he realizes why you had to go.

Jerry finally came to see him the next day, looking worse than Elvis felt. Him and his father had been given the hard job of damage control for the whole incident, as Elvis has now found himself without a manager. Apparently some of the “medicine” in Dr. Nick's bag was at best less than reputable and at worst fully illegal, and when pressed Nick pointed the finger at The Colonel. Both of them were taken into custody and were currently under investigation, but considering the world of shit the two have found themselves in, it looks like their best bet will be to pay damages and more.

In real time Elvis heard as their house of cards fell apart, and suddenly the prospect of his life didn’t seem as daunting as it did when he accepted his death a week ago. Even if he had died, this was all inevitably meant to come out, the only difference being he wouldn’t have been here to see it.

But he is still here, all thanks to you. His Angel.

In one fell swoop, you not only saved his life, but made his life worth living again. Even if you were of this Earth, there is no doubt in his mind that you were heaven-sent. The lord works in mysterious ways and ain’t no way this was all a coincidence. You were meant to be in that audience. He was meant to have gotten to this point. You were both destined to be.

To him the message couldn’t be clearer: He had to leave Vegas, but he sure as hell wasn’t going to leave you.

“Jerry this is it. I gotta get clean,” Elvis says, clutching onto the token you left for him. This has been a long time coming, he didn’t listen when he was told the obvious by Priscilla, by his boys, even by himself. “‘Cilla told me about this place in San Diego, and I think I best go.”

“Course, EP,” he says with a comforting hand on his shoulder. “You take the time you need, and I’ll handle everything from the outside.”

“You’re a good man,” he says as he hesitates about what he’s going to request next. Of course Jerry is no stranger to a task like this, but this ain’t like those other times. Because you’re not just some girl he wants to fuck between shows, you’re his angel. But he himself won’t be able to do this while he’s getting clean. “While I’m in there, I need you to do somethin’ for me” Elvis said, surer in his next course of action than he has been in years.

The next few months were hard, honestly if it weren’t for knowing that he had to get better before he could see you again, he’s not sure he would have lasted. So he followed all the rules, took what the doctors gave him, went to therapy, the whole nine yards. There were even days where he could hardly get out of bed, it was so bad.

But it was you, his angel, that gave him strength. Those days in rehab when he felt so cold to the point of shaking, he thought of your warm touch, and he could feel himself steady. When he felt his chest getting tight, he imagined your lips on his breathing life back into him, and he would breathe easier. The nights when he could do nothing but pace around his room restless and irritable, he would press your necklace to his lips and recite a prayer to you, and he would dream sweet dreams of a life with you. He made vows of loving and cherishing you once he found you, and promises of everything the two of you would do once he got clean. How the both of you would never see that hellish place again, and how happy you would be together.

Every single success he had in rehab was because of you, but as his leave date approached he still worried about how long he would be able to keep this up without you. However he trusts Jerry, that if you weren’t already back at Graceland, then at the very least he would know where to find you.

But Jerry failed. He couldn’t find you, and Elvis’ subsequent rage was one for the history books. All of them had the gall to be surprised at his reaction, having never seen him getting so worked up about a girl.

They don’t understand, he thought. You’re not just some girl. You’re my angel.

The only thing that was able to reel him back was their hail mary of a plan to lure you out. The closest any of them could come was that you were in some way associated with the ER he ended up at, but nothing else. He hated the idea of going back to Vegas, but if it brought you back to him, so be it. You walked into hell to save him, so how could he do any less for you?

The days leading up to his last Vegas show, he spends time with Lisa Marie, knowing that he won’t be able to do so again until he’s found you. On that last night she ends up asking for a story, and he could only really think of one that was worth telling. He told her the story of the foolish king, the evil wizard, and the beautiful angel. How the angel was sent by the lord himself to save the king from the evil wizards clutches. And it was with her help was the King finally able to banish the evil wizard forever.

“And did they live happily ever after Daddy?” she asked while drawing you as he described.

He pauses at that and looks down as he fidgets with your necklace before he says, “They sure will baby girl.”

—-----------------------

You were not having a good time.

Of course you would be the one responsible for patching up almost ten men after a bachelor party ended in a knife fight. Only in Vegas, you think as you stitch up your third man that night. You scowl slightly at the crooked sutures before you, but you try to hide that considering that the man before you is one of the more affable (read:sober) ones in the group.

I’m out of practice, you think bitterly. Luckily the rest of your lot seem to only have surface wounds that just require bandaging, so you don’t have to see your work get progressively sloppier. Even though you had been back for awhile since your leave, you had been readjusting to the pace of the ward, and tonight was the first night Verna, your Senior Nurse, trusted you to handle more than administrative work.

You’re not sure if you can blame your poor job entirely on being out of practice as there is still some stiffness in your now mostly healed hand, though you’re not about to go saying anything lest Verna hear anything about it. That traitor, you think, who turned what was supposed to be a two week mandatory vacation, and added a three-month paid medical leave for a broken hand, in spite of your protests. So the last thing you want or need is more time off.

What stings the most about the injury to your hand was that it wasn’t the initial injury that did the most damage it was the fact that you kept using it that really fucked it up. And Verna was able to point that out as a metaphor for why you were in desperate need of a break.

Though it’s not like you had a choice but to keep using it that night. And in all honesty you would do it all over again.

Once you finish up on the lot of them and have them on their way out, all under some light painkillers and apparently the best of friends again, you figure now is as good a time as any to take your lunch. It’s a Friday night, from experience you know things are only going to get progressively crazier tonight, and eating now as opposed to later is the way to go. So you make your way to the cafeteria for the blandest food in the world, and find your work mom.

When you first began at this ER, Verna had all but immediately adopted you as her own, and what started out as an overbearing and slightly annoying mentor relationship, turned into a more endearing friendship than you could have imagined. Though that didn’t mean she still didn’t have those overbearing tendencies of hers, as evidenced by her previous crusade to get you to finally use your accrued vacation days. And the way she’s practically buzzing in her seat tells you that you haven’t seen the last of it.

“What are you planning?” you question as you sit down with your food.

“What do you mean?” she says feigning innocence.

“You have that same look in your eye that you get when you’re scheming something that will inevitably teach me a lesson about my life and/or job,” you say, self-aware as to how these things usually go.

“Bones, you’re being paranoid,” she all but sings, and you can’t help but roll your eyes at the use of your nickname. Nurse Bones the rest of the staff call you, after the Star Trek character, and you can’t say it doesn’t fit. Abrasive and brusque is how you’re usually described by patients, and admittedly you could stand to work on your bedside manner. But to be fair it tends to be the very thing that’ll keep most patients alive. Due to your stubborn attitude, you have found that you have a knack for getting answers out of even the most belligerent patients, which has done wonders in saving time and reducing the likelihood of accidentally causing more damage due to a patient lying.

You narrow your eyes at her, but she still maintains that innocent smile.

“By the way, you have next Friday off,” she casually drops, while taking a sip of her coffee.

“Goddamn it, Verna.”

She puts her hands up in defense with an easy smile. “If you want you can think of it as work considering you’re going to be representing the hospital itself.”

You sigh in defeat knowing you can’t say no to her. “What is this all about?”

“Oh just about a certain rockstar who's doing his final performance in the city and he wants the entire medical staff that saved his life present,” she says, all the while, still able to maintain the coy act.

It admittedly takes you longer than it should to put the pieces together because you honestly haven't thought about that night in a while. When your sisters had come to you with the extra ticket to the concert you had been excited for it, even going so far as to plan for it to be the kick off to the vacation Verna had been bullying you into taking.

“You’re one of my best nurses in the ward,” she had argued. “The last thing I need is for you to get burnt out from working too hard.”

You didn’t expect much from the vacation itself, you just wanted to sleep, see a couple movies, maybe finally get around to saying yes to that drink with that cute x-ray tech.

Only as usual the lord himself laughed at your plans. The girl you asked to sub your scheduled shift came down with a bad stomach flu, and was unable to make it, forcing you to work a double. And even when you were officially over with your shift, you were reluctant to leave due to how full the waiting room looked. If it weren’t for Verna all but shoving you into the cab meant for the International, putting a twenty in your hand, and ordering you to have fun, you probably would have skipped the concert entirely.

You were still dressed for work, so you were forced to try your luck with one of the shops at the casino, and the best you could find was a white sundress. You usually try to avoid white, because something about it being the color of your uniform just made you antsy as though you were still on duty. But the alternative was going to a show in your dowdy nursing gown, so you ended up buying it anyway.

When you were able to meet up with your sisters, they were both in contrast dressed to the nines, making you feel even more underdressed. In spite of the less than ideal start to the night, you were determined to enjoy yourself. After all this concert was supposed to be the official marker to the start of your vacation, and it was also fulfilling one of your childhood dreams of seeing him live. And while your “love” for him had cooled since you were 12, that didn’t mean you were any less excited when one of your sisters had won front row seats to his show.

When he walked out onto that stage all your troubles were seemingly forgotten and you could focus on this captivating man. He was nothing short of amazing to see live, and you truly believe that your younger self simply didn’t think big enough when picturing what it would be like to see him up close and personal, especially with how good the seats you got were. He took all of your expectations of it and blew them all away.

Then he started getting a little wobbly.

Then he started getting very wobbly.

Then Elvis fucking Presley had the audacity to nearly slip into a coma right in front of you.

“Ok, but… I wasn’t officially on the emergency team, so I don’t technically count,” you say in an attempt to worm your way out of the night off, all the while stabbing at your potato salad in your frustration.

“Ok, but technically,” she teases. “You belong there more than anybody considering you did pretty much all the work of stabilizing him.”

“I was just doing what anybody would have done,” you downplay.

“Y/N, you were literally surrounded by hundreds of people that night, and nobody acted like you did. Hell not even that doctor that was there did what you did.”

You huff at that, because thinking about that fucking doctor will always get you heated. You’ve encountered your fair share of inadequate doctors before, but Elvis’ personal physician crossed over into cartoonishly incompetent. What kind of doctor who is not only prescribing morphine, let alone over-prescribing it, doesn’t carry any goddamn naloxone on him. And just as the cherry on this very fucked up sundae he tried to use an amphetamine in an effort to cancel out the opioid effects. That is the kind of logic that has brought many users to the ER or worse the morgue, and you at least expected better from a trained medical professional.

But nothing pissed you off more than the penguin looking man, who you would later learn is/was Elvis’ manager, asking if he would still be able to do the midnight performance. You remember just giving him a look, all the while maintaining your rhythm on Elvis’ chest, and you were able to make that man take a step back in fear. The way he stood there and watched as he shook like a leaf, you could tell whose fault this was.

Truly that entire night experience should serve as a testament to both your focus and your patience. Though you did have to remind yourself after every stupid question and comment that came from either of those mens mouths, that you had to focus on preventing brain damage in Elvis, and not try to induce it in those two. You were so fucking close to trying it when Penguin man had the audacity to criticize you on being too rough with your CPR technique, but lucky for him, the EMTs had finally gotten there.

On the other hand, the luckiest break you had all night was that you were familiar with one of the paramedics, so you were allowed inside the ambulance as an extra set of hands, and because no immediate family could be found. After you were able to stabilize him with the Naloxone and the paddles, you were able to catch up with Verna at the ER, and warn her of what that stupid doctor was trying to do back there.

Though by the time you had gotten there, the adrenaline had subsided and you finally noticed the throbbing pain in your hand. You had caught his head before it could hit the floor, which you knew was the equivalent to a bowling ball dropping on to your hand, so you’re not surprised that it did cause some damage to you. You put a brace on your hand and end up sleeping in Verna’s office until her shift ended and she could take you home. The injury turned out to be more severe than you initially thought, and you were put on Medical leave against your will for months.

“How ‘bout this Bones,” she says. “As repayment for losing your necklace, you’ll be my date to the concert.”

You know better than most that Verna is not one to be messed with, and the fact that she’s resorted to guilt tripping this early, means she desperately wants you to go. The necklace in question is the one she gave you after your first successful year in the department, something she gives all the nurses that choose to stay put in the hell that is Vegas’ premier Emergency Ward. Each one was unique to the recipient and yours, in reference to your nickname, was a small ivory stone shaped like horns held by a delicate gold chain. So delicate in fact you somehow lost it somewhere between here and the International with no clear picture as to when exactly it happened.

You let out a long sigh before conceding. In response she mockingly rubs her hands together like a supervillain, and says, “Haha, my dastardly plan to get you to have a fun night has worked.”

“I had fun at the last show,” you argue.

“Y/N, I worry about you if that was your definition of fun.” she says, and you throw a pea at her. “Also I hear rumors that a certain x-ray tech also got a ticket.” she whispers conspiratorially.

This does get a bashful smile out of you. If you can take one thing away from that forced medical leave was that you did end up having those drinks with Ricky. And a few more after that. And then some dinner. Currently you’re in that awkward “what are we” stage that neither of you are too eager to be the ones to define. But hopefully this concert will be the turning point for that.

“By the way, we were asked to wear all white,” Verna casually drops, as she walks away from the table.

“Goddamn it, Verna,” you curse with a mouthful of jello.

The week passes faster than you would have liked, and suddenly it’s friday night. You didn’t really have the time nor the motivation to buy yet another white dress that would sit in your closet, so you end up once again in front of the International in the same sundress, though this time with notably better company.

Though that feeling of being underdressed is somehow worse considering who could actually afford to go to his final concert this time around. His near death experience and the accusations that his previous doctor and manager were facing had caused his fans to rally around him after this, and factoring in that this is going to be his last performance stateside, the tickets to this show were perhaps some of the most expensive in the history of Vegas. There were rumors that even the nosebleeds would cost you somewhere in the $70 range, so you could only imagine what your front row seats would have cost. But the fact that these tickets apparently sold out within minutes was a testament to how beloved he still is.

It’s not exactly a secret amongst the staff that you had been the mysterious good samaritan at the concert, but by the time you had gotten back from leave, Elvis being in your ward had become old news. You weren’t exactly eager to spill, and no one was curious enough to ask. Though you did get a few questions this week from some of the more vulgar nurses asking if you had tried to slip a little tongue when giving him mouth to mouth. You laughed it off and half-jokingly replied, how if anything he did. You’re seated between Verna and Ricky, who had the honor of making sure you hadn’t accidentally cracked a rib when performing CPR on the King, farther away from the stage than you were last time, though you weren’t too cut up about it. You’re one for one for people nearly dying when you’re in the front row, and you figure if there’s a repeat performance tonight someone else can take over this time.

As you’re talking to Ricky as to what songs he’s hoping to hear, you don’t so much as hear but feel the familiar horns start to blare, building anticipation amongst the crowd, and evidently yourself as you’re teased over the little dance you’re doing in your seat. And as the music starts to build, you have to remind yourself that you’re still technically at a work event, so you can’t get too wild. Though with the atmosphere you find yourself in, you can’t guarantee your best behavior if you can get Ricky alone.

Then he finally steps out and it’s just as magnificent as you remember. He looks alot better this time around, far more sure footed in his steps and the white jumpsuit with its gold accents stood as a nice contrast to his tanned skin, and you and the rest of the crowd show your love when you see the cape in all it’s angelic winged glory. Even the light sheen of sweat already on his face is doing wonders of making him look as though he’s glowing, as opposed to sickly like his last show.

Considering how well you thought his last concert was when he was high off his ass on morphine and on death’s door, it’s no surprise how incredible this one is, when he’s far more present and alert this time around. Though more being the operative word, as he does seem to be somewhat distracted this time around, and he does seem to hover around the two tables the hospital staff are at.

You can hardly fault him for feeling a little uneasy about being back on stage again after he nearly died on one. Oddly enough you can even see the logic of having an entire medical team ready at a moment's notice for his return if nothing but for the comfort of that extra level of security.

But you’re not here to analyze why a famous man does what he does, you’re here to have a good time, so that’s what you do; You sing, you dance, you laugh at Elvis’ jokes, you flirt with Ricky, you take advantage of your tables covered tab, the whole nine yards. All too soon though it feels like the concert wraps up quicker this time, though you figure he’s simply eager to get his world tour started as soon as possible.

“I’d like to turn the house lights down,” he says.“Now that you’ve seen me I’d like to take a look atchu.” This seems familiar, you think flippantly. “Before I go, I wanna give a special thanks to a few people up front here. The emergency staff of UMC Hospital, Ladies and Gentleman.”

There is a resounding round of applause for your group as the spotlight hits the tables, and you’re just drunk enough to not retreat from the praise and recognition and simply give a cursory wave to the crowd. “But there’s one special lil’ lady here that deserves recognition. Without her folks, I can promise I wouldn’t be here tonight.”

You look around expecting to see Priscilla or maybe even his daughter somewhere around here, but you’re quickly wrenched from your thoughts as you feel the table beneath your elbows jostle a little. You look back toward the stage and find that Elvis no longer occupies it. Instead he is walking on top of your table and giving no regard to the glasses or items atop it, your co-workers acting quickly to save what they can. Before you can even put together who exactly he’s walking toward, you find the king of rock and roll crouching down before you.

“What’s your name angel?” he asks you with the biggest grin on his face, before putting the mic in front of you. The room itself is dead silent, everybody apparently eager to hear your answer, and Elvis, even more so, with the way he’s looking at you. You even move slightly to the left in some vain hope that he’s talking to someone behind you only for the mic to follow you. Whatever drunkenly warm feelings about attention you had quickly vanished, and the only thing stopping you from crawling under the table is that you’re not sure he wouldn’t follow.

You’re floundering and also painfully aware of the seconds that are ticking away, making your pause all the more uncomfortable, and you’re barely able to squeak out your name.

Oh my god, do I really sound like that? You think mortified after hearing your answer repeated through the amplifiers.

“Beautiful,” he says, his eyes shining and he looks at you as though you hang the stars themselves. “Folks, y’all don’t know it, but Y/N here is my very own Guardian Angel.” His statement generating “awws” from the crowd. “Last time I saw her, she left something with me and I think it’s high time I give it back.”

And with a flick of his wrists he produces a gold chain with a bright white pendant at the bottom of it, and you’re stunned when you recognize it, truly believing it was lost forever to you. It’s mind boggling to think it had been with him this entire time, having figured it was in a ditch or melted down by this point. You reach out for it hoping this will be the end of the interaction and you can begin to work on forgetting this ever happened, only for him to pull back.

“...but only if she goes to dinner with me first,” he says mischievously. At his proposition the audience responds with a series of wolf whistles and applause, which only amps up your anxiety of being seen, and it’s made all the worse when some women (some of whom you know) are trying to answer yes for you.

Pressure and stress is something you’re familiar with, but the scrutiny you're currently under not only with your co-workers, but an entire room full of strangers makes you want to shrivel up and die. This feeling is only further perpetuated by the dazzling grin he’s giving you. Words fail you and you doubt anything that comes out of your mouth will be even the least bit coherent, so you instead shake your head in the affirmative before you bury your face in your hands.

“She said yes folks,” he says, his grin going from ear to ear at this point, and the crowd goes wild. This is all punctuated by the return of the music as Elvis winks at you and makes his way back to the stage. The music itself stands in stark contrast to how you’re feeling, sounding bold and triumphant, as you’re escorted backstage trying to hunch in on yourself and avoid being seen. You’re even more mortified as you recognize the lyrics he’s singing, and you purposefully try to avoid looking at him.

Take my hand

Take my whole life too

For I can’t help

Fallin’ in love with you

You’re used to the break neck speed that comes with the territory of working in the ER, but even this is going far too fast for you. Not even five minutes ago you were trying to figure out if you were too dressed up for a burger with Ricky, now you’re standing alone in a penthouse suite waiting for the most famous man in the world for a … a date?

Oh god Ricky, you remember. How are you going to explain this to him? Things were going so well, and you planned to finally sleep with him tonight, but now this happened. And oh… fuck, that’s what people are going to assume what’s happening right now isn’t it? Given Elvis’ reputation, you can deny until you're blue in the face that nothing happened and you’re still unlikely to be believed.

…Because nothing will happen, you’ll eat, you’ll make small talk, he’ll thank you for your part in his life being saved, and you’ll never have to think of this night again. It wasn’t so much that the necklace meant that much to you, but you weren’t exactly in a place to say no to him at that moment. So maybe if you leave right now…

Your fleeting thoughts of running are interrupted by the hand suddenly on your shoulder, making you nearly jump out of your skin. “Woah there angel, settle down now. It’s just me,” he says softly.

That’s hardly comforting, you think. You open your mouth determined to leave at this point only for him to hold up a finger to you before grabbing a folded piece of paper from the piano and handing it to you. You’re hesitant to open it until he says, “my daughter begged me to give this to you if I ever saw you again.” You unfurl it to find what is clearly a child's drawing of an angel with a nurse cap, though with seemingly your general coloring as well as your necklace. The bottom reads “thAnK U 4 sAVing mY dAdY, love lisA.” You can’t help but crack a smile at this, and you feel yourself lose some of that tension you walked in with.

He seems pleased with your reaction, rubbing the back of his neck as he explains how his daughter came up with the angel moniker for you and it kind of stuck for him, considering how he didn’t know your name.

“It’s fine,” you wave away. “I get trying to explain it to her in a way she’d understand.”

“She’s been sayin’ for awhile now that she wants to be a nurse when she grows up,” he admits with a bit of a chuckle. You can’t help the way your heart melts at that. “Hope you don’t mind, I ordered food already. I-I figured you’d wouldn’t want to eat so late.”

“I don’t mind,” you reassure, amused at his slight stutter. “The job’s made me a bit of a night owl, so I’m more on lunch time right now.”

“Guess we got time then,” he says, settling down with a bottle of wine at a table by the window.

“I guess we do,” you say, unable to hold back a smile..

The longer you stick around though, the easier it is to talk to him, his hair is messy and he’s out of the jumpsuit so it’s easy to forget that you are talking to the one and only Elvis Presley. So engrossed in your conversation you hardly notice when the food arrives, and the two of you hardly touch it. He looks at you with that same dopey smile as you talk about your life, your job, anything really. And he reciprocates talking about the places he’s been, the places he’s going and beyond. He even bashfully admits he came back to Vegas for the last time in order to find you and thank you properly.

“I swear Angel, I tried lookin’ for ya after I got out,” he sighs, sending a dirty look at the city right outside the window, his face highlighted by the neon lights below. “I was afraid this godforsaken city swallowed ya whole.”

“Yeah Vegas’ll do that to you,” you commiserate with him, a smile on your face gazing out the window. “It’s an absolute cesspit here.”

“You ever think about leavin’?”

“No, not really,” you say, hardly needing a second to answer, as you take a sip of your drink. You grew up here so you hold no illusions to the glitz and glamor that the city holds. Not to mention your job primarily consists of dealing with patients who are often the byproduct of this awful city. But this is still the city where you were born, where you’ve made your life. A life you’re honestly proud of.

He looks taken aback by your response, and in that moment you have the pleasure of seeing a man who has been nothing but confident and sure of himself stumble over his words. “Re-really? There ain’t no place in this whole world y-you’d rather be.”

“Nah,” you say casually, holding two fingers up. “There are two types of people who live here, ‘This place is a pit and I’m leaving�� or ‘this place is a pit and I’m never fucking leaving.’ No real reason beyond just… liking it here,” you guess shrugging your shoulders. “Besides, I just got back from medical leave, I think I've had enough of a vacation for awhile,” you say, your drink having loosened your tongue.

“What happened?” he asks, his brow furrowed, looking genuinely concerned for you.

“Oh, umm…” you say, sucking your teeth. And that’s really the elephant in the room neither of you are addressing. The fact that you’re only here because of what you did for him. “Well I kinda broke my hand… that night… when I caught you.” You follow this with perhaps the most awkward laugh, which you quickly cutoff when you see the guilty look on his face.

As you're floundering for some sort of recovery, he gently takes your previously injured hand in his, as he places a small kiss to the back of it. “I’m sorry I put you through so much trouble.” he whispers against your hand. “I can’t thank you enough.”

“Oh don’t worry about that,” you say, trying to even out your breathing, suddenly going from pleasantly to too warm in a matter of moments. “I would have done the same for anybody else.”

“But not anybody else coulda done whatchu did.” he says. “It’s almost sounds like it was all meant to be,”

“That’s one way of looking at it,” you say, sipping your drink. “But if this city has taught me anything in all the years I’ve lived here, it is that luck, good or bad, has its hands in almost everything.”

“You’re too good for this rotten city,” he says, softly rubbing his thumb along your knuckles, his ocean blue eyes piercing into your own. “Y/N, this city ain’t good for no one,” he says. “You gotta get you outta here.”

“Elvis…” you say, putting down your drink. “I’m not saying this city is good, but I’m not saying it’s all bad. It just… is. And I’m fine here. I’ve built my life here and I’m really not interested in leaving.”

“Not even for me?”

That catches you off guard and you’re at a loss for words, because who says that to someone they’ve only just met. And instead of giving an actual answer, you give a short, nervous laugh, and make a comment as to how funny he is. Though internally you’re questioning if his eyes have always been this intense.

“You know when I was in rehab,” he trails on looking at your connected hands. “That necklace a yours, got me through some of the darkest times I been through.”

You swallow thickly at his admission. “Well rehab is one of the hardest things to do. If you want to hold on-”

“No, no Angel,” he chuckles in that deep baritone of his, as he removes the pendant from his wrist. “I’m a man of my word. And I promised to give it back.” He stands up from the sofa, and holds out his hand to you. “But first, I at least want to see you wearin’ it.”

You’re not really thinking anymore, or maybe your thoughts are being drowned out by your pounding heart beat, as you stand up and turn away from him, allowing him to put it on you. Whether it’s the heat radiating off of him from his close proximity to you or the way his hands feel brushing lightly against your neck, your decision is made even before he plants a kiss behind your ear.

Your relationship prospects with Ricky are shot, most of the people you work with saw you leave with him, and they are all gonna assume what they want about what the two of you did. So why not do what you’re going to be accused of? Really there are other reasons not to, but they all die as soon as your lips meet his.

It only occurs to you now that this is not the first time this has happened, but you could hardly compare either experience. The mouth that ravages your own is worlds different from the cold lips you breathed life back into, and you find your hand even wandering into his open shirt as you relish in the now strong and steady heartbeat beneath your palm. He stops at that, noticing what you’re doing, and you see his eyes go glassy for a moment before he goes right back to kissing you, though this time around it’s slower, more… tender, as he leads you back to his bed.

He probably has reasons of his own for this, though you struggle to understand them. Initially you think, rather crudely, that since he’s leaving in the morning, never to return, you suppose you’ll be his final ‘what happens in Vegas.’ But everything he does once you’re in his bed doesn’t quite match up with this assessment.

The way he touches you, it’s not sex, it’s not fucking, it’s not even love making, if you had to call it anything, more akin to worship. Leaving not a single inch of your body untouched as he undresses you, he takes his time to kiss every spot and blemish on you, even paying special attention to the hand he had inadvertently broken, as though in penance. He whispers something into your skin with each kiss, and you’re not able to make out what, but he has an almost reverent tone, as though he were praying. Though any curiosity you had for his words is quickly lost when you feel him bury his face in your cunt.

He’s still fully dressed, you notice, the silky caress of his shirt on the back of your thighs, as you feel his wicked tongue spear inside you. The idea of being so exposed is usually horrifying to you, but now, here with him, you don’t even think about that, truly lost in the pleasure he’s giving you, and you’re sure to be very vocal in your appreciation. He eventually removes his mouth, and you let out an embarrassing little whimper at the loss until you feel the cool metal of his rings brushing your burning core. You can only imagine what kind of image you make right now writhing and unraveling on this man's fingers, wearing nothing but your necklace. From the pleased rumble that emanates from his chest he approves wholeheartedly as he sits on his knees to get a better look at you. He even goes so far as to readjust your necklace so it rests prettily between your breasts, looking for that perfect image of you.

Much of the night proceeds like that, his own pleasure apparently put to the side, as he adjusts you into whatever position he cares to see; sideways, on all fours, above his face, on your knees with your hands holding the headboard, standing up with your back against the window, etc. For his part, he simply watches you fall apart over and over again on his tongue, his fingers, or whatever body part of his you wrap your legs around.

You begin to suspect that this is some fucked up form of repayment for what you did, and several times through out you quite literally paw at his belt in an attempt to get him to join in. Each time he gently takes a hold of your hands, reassuring you each time he’s focused on you alone.

What finally gets him to crack is when you beg tears streaming down your face, “please I need it,” your voice whiny and your eyes frantic to behold all of him. You bring your mouth to his as you whisper, “I need you.” He’s quick to strip down after your plea, and seeing him fully leaves your mouth as dry as the mojave. For both personal and professional reasons, you’re no stranger to the male anatomy, but seeing his is… baffling, simply put.

You feel like a teenager fantasizing in your room about your favorite celebrity again, simply due to how perfect this all feels. Too perfect in fact. You’ve lived long enough to know that things that are too good to be true, usually are, especially in this town. But these lessons are far from your mind as he goes at an agonizingly slow pace to push himself into you, reaching depths you’ve never even imagined ever reaching. You’re left a panting mess beneath him savoring the delicious stretch he’s causing you, and you’re only quieted as he takes your lips once again.

Once you’ve had time to adjust to him being buried to the hilt within you, you beg him to move as you feel that knot in the pit of your belly begin to form once again. He seems charmed by how needy you’ve become, going at a near snail pace within you, telling you to say how you were his. So desperate were you, that you agreed without even thinking about it.

He rewards you with a sweet kiss, as he starts to pick up the pace. You throw your head from side to side as aching whimpers escape your lips, eyes squeezed shut because dear lord, does he know how to move his hips. He takes a hold of your chin, “look at me Angel. Look only at me.” he orders, his lips barely brushing your ear. You're in no position to argue, and especially as he pins your wrists above your head.

He’s so beautiful, you think to yourself as you open your eyes to see him; the light shimmer of sweat on his brow, the slope of his nose, the fullness of his lips, truly this man is too good to be true. But as he picks up the pace to be far more brutal and punishing, you become lost to all the sensations he’s causing you. Despite the tears streaming down your face you can’t say you’re not enjoying yourself, reveling in his incoherent whispers in your ear and begging for him to fill you up over and over again.

By the time you both finished, the two of you have been at it for what feels like hours at this point, and it is only now as the early morning rays of the sun hit the side of his face do you realize how late (or early?) it is. And as he takes in the image of you below him in the light of day for the first time, your angelic image is only further cemented in his mind, he gives you a tender kiss as he has the curtains closed and he’s absolutely sure of what he has to do next.

You wake up to the sound of voices and rummaging in the other room, and the taste of regret on your tongue. Regret tastes a lot like dehydration, you think, helping yourself to both the full glass of water and the tylenol on the nightstand. The curtains and your pounding head make it impossible to tell what time it is or how long you slept. You know you’re in no condition to work, but contemplate going anyway, as you can only imagine what kind of shit you’re going to get from doing so. But with the state of your back right now, you don’t really have a choice.

You’re using the low light peeking beneath the door to gather what you can of your outfit, though as you blindly scour the room, you would settle for your dress and purse at this point. Your head is fuzzy at best so you hardly notice that the white dress you put on is completely different from the one you arrived in, nor did you pay any mind to the salty aftertaste on the back of your tongue that the pills left.

There’s no getting around that you’re about to embark on the most humiliating walk of shame in history, but you were at least grateful that he hadn’t been there when you woke up. You’re glad to have avoided that awkward encounter at the very least. But this small mercy was quickly snatched from you as you open the door only to walk right into the back of the man you were hoping to avoid.

Wait… how did I miss that? You think blearily. You don’t have the luxury of an answer as he quickly turns around and you watch as his face lights up upon seeing you.

“Sorry for waking you Angel,” he says, as he wraps an arm around your waist to give you a quick peck on the lips. “Just had to pack up a few things before we go.” While you aren’t someone prone to having one night stands, you also can’t think of anything to say to this man whom you’re never going to see again. At least he won’t see you, while you’ll probably have to live the rest of your life seeing him as a celebrity.

“It’s fine” you say as you look around the room behind him for your purse. A hopeless endeavor as there are far too many men in the room, who all quickly avert their eyes from you. Though you do see it’s well past sunset, and that just adds to your embarrassment.

“How ya feelin’ Angel?” you hear from him as he puts a hand on your forehead. The cool metal of his rings feel heavenly, but you are also a woman on a mission. The mission being get the hell out of here.

“I’m okay,” you answer, pulling away. “I-I hope you don’t mind I used the aspirin on the nightstand.”

You see his smile lift ever so slightly at that, “That’s why it was there Darlin’. Why don’t I take you home now?”

“Oh you don’t have to do that,” you wave away as he’s walking you to the door.

“You don’t gotta worry Angel,” he reassures you, his arm already slung around your shoulder. “I don’t mind one bit. Hell it’s probably on my way.”

“...ok.” You answer, unenthusiastic at the prospect of having to see him more. But being seen by others as you are right now doesn’t sound any more appealing.

As you're making your way down the hallway with him, you remember your purse that is back in the room. And as you swivel around, you feel the night hitting you all at once, and you’re forced to lean on Elvis to keep your balance. He catches you and with an arm around your waist he helps you to the elevator.

“Wait,” you say weakly. “My purse.”

“Don’t worry, Angel,” he says, kissing your hand. “It’s downstairs already.”

That’s not where I left it, you think, when you do in fact find it already in the backseat of the town car. You tell the driver where your apartment is before pressing your head to the cool glass of the window, your eyes closed. Even with the tinted windows, the neon lights of the strip are doing a number on your eyes (later you would wish that you had chanced it and gotten one last look at home). You don’t understand how you’re this tired considering how much you’ve already slept and you simply lean in further into him, waiting for that aspirin to kick in.

You’re not sure as to how much time passes, but eventually he does help you out of the car and up some stairs. You’ll kick yourself later for not realizing sooner where you were until you felt Elvis start to buckle in your seatbelt. You open your eyes, but even with your blurry vision you recognize that this is definitely not your apartment.

You struggle at your harness, but your fingers aren’t cooperating whatsoever and you’re left helplessly pawing at it. You see others enter but your pleads that you have to leave fall on deaf ears as they all conspicuously avoid looking at you.

You don’t understand why you’re like this, because other than the drinking from the night before you hadn’t had anything other than… the aspirin.

How could you be so stupid? How could you have walked into this trap? Why did you think you could trust him? You start sobbing as you hear the cabin door close, because you have no answer for any of these.

“Please I have to go home,” you weep.

“I am takin’ you home Angel.” and you have no choice but to lean on him as he brings you closer.

Finally once you’re in the air he unbuckles and stands the both of you up. Men you vaguely recognize from the hotel, all again avert their eyes as Elvis proceeds to walk you down the aisle and you beg them to help you. You’re still feeling the effects of whatever he gave you so you don’t really put up much of a fight until he opens the door and you see a bed on the other side.

“I ain’t gon’ hurt you Angel,” he says soothingly. You don’t believe him. “I know you’re mad right now, but I know one day you’ll forgive me. Because this is for your own good.”

“Why?” you sob into his shoulder as he lays you both down. “Why me?”

“Because the lord himself brought us together, Angel.” he says and you see that manic look you’d only gotten glimpses of in your short time together on full display. “And what God has brought together, let no man separate.”

“What?”

“Angel I know you may not believe in all of it,” he says, rubbing your cheek. “But I don’t believe it was just a coincidence that you were there that night. I know someone up above sent you to look out for me. And I ain’t gon’ let you slip away again.”

This man… this man had no issue ripping you away from your life all under some delusion that you needed saving, because that’s what he needed. You’re under the control of a man that cast you as his savior… and god forbid should you ever turn out to be otherwise. This is your life now, because no good deed goes unpunished.

“You and me, Angel.” he says merrily into your hair, holding your hand that rests above his heart, giving you a tender kiss on your forehead. “Today we’re flyin’ away for good.”

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