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floralcyanide · 9 months

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𝟑𝟎,𝟎𝟎𝟎 𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐭 - 𝐣𝐚𝐜𝐤𝐬𝐨𝐧 𝐫𝐢𝐩𝐩𝐧𝐞𝐫

jackson rippner x f!reader

Usually, airports were the bane of your existence due to your career and the constant requirement to travel. But when you stumble upon a handsome man at the airport bar, your disdain for flying seems to change.

warnings: smut, nipple play, fingering, penetrative sex, unprotected sex, semi-public sex, public sex, mile-high shenanigans

word count: 2780

author’s note: not proofread again lulz but when do I ever?? anyway I got a request for this and had to write it right away because I love jackson sm omg. please lmk if you enjoyed and send some feedback <3

main masterlist | cillian murphy masterlist | add yourself to the taglist here

You wouldn’t mind it if you didn’t have to step foot inside another airport for the rest of your life.

Unfortunately, your career requires you to travel every month, so your escape from airports will have to wait. You doubt there’s anything that will make your experiences with the liminal spaces any brighter or more profound- you doubt there’s anything that would make them even a smidge exciting. But, who knows, maybe one day you’ll eat your words. So, until then, you’ll fast-walk through airports and terminals with your carry-on with the deepest resting bitch face you can conjure up. And it appears that today will be yet another day that you muster up one.

Deciding to hit the best bar in the DFW airport during your routine TSA spiel, you weave around the other flyers in the corridors in a hurry. Even if your red eye flight has been delayed about two hours, you figure two hours in an airport could be better spent drinking. After scouring the entire airport numerous times on each trip you’ve taken from DFW, you finally settled upon a corner bar near your gate. After passing by it a few times, you decided to give it a chance. Its appearance is initially off-putting- it is dark and moody. Still, it had an oddly comfortable atmosphere and good drinks, obviously. You stroll up to the bar, smiling and nodding to the bartender you’ve come to know here. Going to sit in your usual booth, you discover there’s someone already seated there.

“If this were middle school, I’d tell you this is my spot,” you joke as you approach the man, whose face is covered by his long bangs.

A pair of sharp blue eyes glance up at you from their place on the cocktail menu in his large hands, and a sweet smile graces his lips when he looks you over, “I certainly apologize for stealing your spot. Care to join me? I can buy you a drink to make up for it.”

You give him a questioning look, half-joking with your tone, “What’s in it for me?”

“A free drink and your spot back,” the man says haughtily, a mischievous gleam in his eye.

“Deal,” you reach a hand out for him to shake.

“Deal,” the man says, accepting your hand and shaking it firmly.

You slide into the booth, sizing the man up, “What’s your name?”

“Jackson,” the man says, his eyes nearly piercings into yours, “Jackson Rippner.”

“Oh,” you raise your eyebrows, suppressing a giggle, “your parents must hate you.”

Jackson laughs, shrugging, “Yeah, you could say that. But you can’t hate anyone if you’re dead.”

“Oh, shit. I’m sorry-”

“No need. Finished them off myself,” Jackson says, deadpanning.

You pause before laughing at his joke, “Gotcha.”

“So, what’s your drink of choice?” Jackson asks, changing the subject lightly.

“Hmm, I don’t think I’ll tell you just yet,” you let your eyes roam everywhere but Jackson’s face until you land your gaze back on him.

“You want me to guess, then?” Jackson asks, “I’m good at that, actually.”

“Oh, really? Prove it, then,” you say with a playful edge to your tone.

Jackson puckers his lips, furrowing his eyebrows in thought, “I’m thinking white liquor,” he trails off, “Maybe vodka, something fruity but not too skimpy.”

“You’re close, but not quite,” you bite your lip.

“I think you’re the type to have a classic no one considers.”

“Which is?”

“Dirty Shirley,” Jackson snaps his fingers, pointing at you confidently.

“Nope,” you say, grinning, “Just a vodka and Sprite for me.”

“Ah, but I was close.”

“Yes, you were very close,” you say, having the urge to flirt with this man you don’t even know.

“I’ll go grab that for you,” Jackson says, getting up out of the booth and heading to the bar.

While he’s gone, you rummage through your bag for a perfume roller, quickly rubbing some on your pulse points. Then, you unbutton the first two buttons of your blouse, revealing your cleavage just enough to be subtle. Turning around for a second, you see Jackson heading back to the booth, and you brush yourself off before slipping the perfume back into your bag.

“A vodka and Sprite for the pretty lady,” Jackson places your drink down in front of you before returning to his spot across from you.

“‘Pretty lady,’ huh?” you raise an eyebrow, taking the two black straws into your mouth.

“What can I say?” Jackson raises his hands in defense, “You are a pretty little thing. I’m glad I sat in your spot.”

“Oh,” you say, trying not to let your face heat up at the compliment, “Well, I’m glad too.”

The both of you silently sip your drinks after that, sharing fleeting glances while giggling. You decide to be cheeky, slipping off one of your heels and running your foot underneath Jackson’s pant leg. You nonchalantly look around the bar, chewing on your straw as if you weren’t up to anything. Jackson is staring right at you with a smirk as his eyes stare holes into your off-cast ones.

“Feeling a little naughty, are we?” Jackson whispers, just loud enough to hear over the music.

You move your eyes toward him, “How do you mean?”

“I see,” Jackson looks down at the remainder of his second drink, “You wanna play like that, huh?”

“Play like what?” you challenge him, pushing your foot farther up his leg, now going over his pants and toward his thigh.

Jackson chuckles, about to say something, but he’s interrupted by the airport intercom. Your flight is a few minutes from boarding.

“Oh, that’s me,” you frown, downing the rest of your second vodka and Sprite before looking at Jackson, “What do I owe you?”

“For the drinks? Nothing,” Jackson licks his lips, “But for the teasing? We’ll have to see about that.”

“Oh really?” you ask, your heart rate now picking up at the obvious flirting.

“Really.”

“And what will you do about it?” you daringly ask.

“Well, we are on the same flight,” Jackson says, “So we’ll have to see.”

The two of you head over to the gate, getting in line to board. You boredly flip through a book your friend suggested for you to read on the flight. Jackson takes notice of this.

“Bookworm? Didn’t pick that up about you,” Jackson asks, rolling back and forth on his heels and toes.

“Depends on the book,” you say, pursing your lips as you skim over the words, “Don’t think I’m a fan of this one, though.”

“That’s a shame. Any ideas of what you’re gonna do on the flight?” Jackson inquires, a flirty undertone in his question.

“Hmm,” you wonder, “Probably sleep. Unless I find something else to do.”

“Ah,” Jackson nods, “Hopefully, you will.”

“Hopefully,” you chuckle.

You and Jackson get separated during boarding, but you do a double-take when you arrive at your seat.

“Are you in the right seat?” you ask.

A familiar pair of striking eyes look up from a book to meet yours, “Did I steal your spot again?”

“No,” you shake your head, laughing, “I’m seat fifteen B.”

“And I’m fourteen B,” Jackson closes his book.

“Interesting,” you say, “Small world, huh?”

“Small indeed,” Jackson exhales, about to say something, until a lady a few rows down asks for help with her carry-on.

You move to the side, allowing Jackson to scoot by you. As he does, he puts a gentle hand on your waist, sending goosebumps up your spine. You watch as he helps the lady, and you try not to laugh when she tries flirting with him. Jackson returns to the row, moving past you again and plopping into his seat.

“I know we talked for what, two hours? But I never asked, why are you headed to Miami? Work or play?” Jackson asks, buckling his seatbelt as the flight attendants announce preparation for take-off.

“Work, unfortunately. I take this trip often, red eye and everything,” you say, resting your head on the headrest behind you.

Jackson nods, “I’m here for work too. I hate flying, not going to lie.”

“Me too,” you grumble, “I hate everything about flying, including the airport and everything that comes with it.”

“Everything?” Jackson presses jokingly.

“Well, today was different. I actually had a nice time at the airport, especially since I got to meet you,” you say, keeping your eyes on the flight attendant as she goes over the safety precautions and flotation devices under the seats.

“Good to know,” Jackson says, placing a hand on your knee.

You look at his hand, feeling very warm all over. The plane begins to speed up and ascend, and you relax in your seat, Jackson’s hand still on your knee. His nose is in his book as you try your best to read your friend’s book suggestion. When the plane finally reaches 30,000 feet, the seatbelt light turns off, and the lights dim. Flight attendants offer pillows and blankets, and you take a blanket, tucking your book away and covering yourself with the blanket. You’re on the verge of sleep when you feel Jackson’s hand slide up your thigh. You pretend you’re asleep, not moving or reacting to his touch. His hand is hidden by the blanket, so no one can see his hand move further up, dangerously close to your core. You’re wearing a dress, so there’s easy access. Not that you were complaining that Jackson was touching you. You were feeling him up earlier at the bar, so now it’s his turn.

Jackson sneaks his hand back down your thigh and over your dress, slowly making his way over your hip and waist, up to your clothed breast. The blanket‘s hem was tucked behind your shoulders, covering up your entire body, so no one could see Jackson’s hand crawl underneath your dress again. This time, to squeeze at your breast. You try not to move or make a noise as Jackson takes your nipple between his fingers, pinching it lightly. Pretending as if he woke you up, you rouse and sit up straight.

“What are you doing?” you ask, acting as if you were asleep.

“I know you’ve been awake the whole time, sweetheart,” Jackson whispers.

“No, I wasn’t,” you say innocently.

“Don’t lie to me,” Jackson chastises, twisting your nipple harshly.

You bite your lip, muffling a moan. You squeeze your legs together as he continues to tweak the bud.

“Is this what you want? Hmm? Teasing me earlier with your foot, I figured I’d play with you too.”

Jackson’s hand moves to your other breast, flicking your nipple. His other hand travels under your dress, his fingernails pressing into your skin. You bite your lip to stifle a moan from the sharp sensation on the sensitive skin of your thigh. His fingers ease to your core again, ghosting over your clit as you open your legs.

“Be quiet like a good girl,” Jackson says, eyes darting around to ensure no one is looking despite the lights being off.

You nod as he presses two fingers to your clit, rubbing slow, soft circles. Warmth gradually spreads in your lower belly at the sensation, and you widen your legs further. Jackson pulls his fingers away momentarily to slip them inside your underwear and continue his movements on your bare bundle of nerves. You cover your mouth, exhaling shakily at the stimulation. Jackson slips a finger inside you after playing with you for a while.

“Already so wet?” Jackson teases in your ear, his lips brushing against it.

“Fuck,” you mutter under your breath.

Jackson slowly pumps his finger in and out, eventually adding a second one. You shutter from the delightful stretch. You look around before subtly jerking your hips forward, riding his fingers.

“Fucking yourself on my fingers so good,” Jackson nibbles at your ear lobe, “Can’t imagine how you’d feel around my cock.”

You bite your knuckle to hold in a desperate whine at his words, “Please,” you whimper.

“Please, what?” Jackson asks, his fingers picking up the pace.

“Fuck me,” you whisper, “Take me to the bathroom and fuck me against the wall.”

“What a brazen little one you are,” Jackson grins, pulling his fingers from you and sucking your arousal off them, “It’s gonna take a little more than that, though.”

You groan at the loss of fullness, “Like what?”

“Beg.”

You pull Jackson’s hand back to your soaking slit, “Please touch me, fuck me, do anything you want to me. Please.”

“Keep going,” he pants, circling your clit with his fingers again.

“Jackson,” you sigh, “God, I need you inside of me. So bad,” you hiss.

“Go,” Jackson whispers, “I’ll meet you there.”

You hurry to pull down your dress, pulling the blanket off you before quietly walking to the bathroom. You check the vacancy before pulling the door open, leaving it unlocked for Jackson. You sit on the toilet, waiting patiently as your pulse thumps in your ears. A few moments pass, and the door opens slightly, revealing Jackson before he slips inside the bathroom. You stand up, but before you open your mouth to say something, he picks you up and presses you against the wall. You wrap your legs around Jackson’s waist, kissing him with a bruising force. Jackson slides his tongue through your lips and into your mouth, exploring it as his hands grip your ass. You reach a hand down and unzip and unbutton Jackson’s pants, your hand snaking past his underwear band and wrapping around his cock.

“Fuck,” Jackson seethes, already hard from previous events in your seats earlier.

He pushes up the hem of your dress around your hips, pulling your underwear down far enough for him to slowly enter your throbbing core. Both of you gasp at the feeling, hours of pining hitting the climax. You thought Jackson was attractive the moment you laid eyes on him. You aren’t passing up the opportunity to join the mile-high club with such a gorgeous man. Jackson pushes further into you, and you relax more so he can press his hips into yours. Your fingers grasp at his hair as he pulls almost all the way out before thrusting back in. Your back roughly hits the wall behind you, but it wouldn’t be the last time. You have to hold onto the wall with one hand to not bang into it, your other hand holding onto Jackson’s hair for dear life as he fucks you without mercy.

“God,” you say, the word drawn out as you and Jackson’s hips slam into each other.

Jackson covers your mouth as you stare into his blue eyes, now darkened with lust, “Stay quiet.”

You nod, “Mhmm,” you hum from underneath his hand.

Your eyes stay on each other as you move your body forward in time with Jackson, his cock hitting that spot inside you perfectly, sending shockwaves over you. Jackson wraps an arm around your waist, holding you steady as his other hand moves between the two of you to rub tight figure 8’s on your bundle of nerves. You squeal, eyes rolling into the back of your head as Jackson continues to fuck into you like you’re a sex object. You feel yourself clenching around him as your orgasm creeps up. You pull on Jackson’s hair harshly, causing him to moan as his hips stutter. You do it again, and he has to bite your neck in order not to moan out loud.

“Are you gonna cum?” Jackson grunts into your ear, “Huh?”

“Yes,” you gasp, “Fuck yes, I’m gonna cum.”

“Cum around my cock, pretty thing.”

Your release smacks you in the face, sending your body reeling as it nearly convulses against the lavatory wall. Jackson cums right after you as the feeling of your walls squeezing his cock sends him over the edge. You milk him for all he’s got, rutting your hips through both of your orgasms. You both catch your breath as Jackson lets your legs collapse back to the floor weakly. He holds you up as you regain your posture.

“I suddenly really like flying now,” you push your hair out of your sweaty face.

“Me too,” Jackson says with an expressionless face, which you match.

Suddenly, both of you burst out laughing but cover your mouths quickly before anyone can hear in the plane. After cleaning yourselves up, you both successfully sneak out of the bathroom and back to your seats, covering up with the blanket.

“Ever barhopped in Miami?” you ask Jackson, trying your best to hold your eyes open.

“Nope. You?’

“Nope. Want to?”

“Absolutely.”

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1K notes · View notes

yurinaa-world · 29 days

Note

hello!! platonic dr ratio with a teen!student reader who excels at one particular subject but is bad or average on the others? also lacks social skills

(kinda inspired by me lol 💀)

Characters: Dr. Ratio platonic! x Gender-neutral Reader

Synopsis: with student reader who excels at one subject but is bad at the others + lacks social skills

Warnings: Fluff and spelling mistakes, got lil personal

𝒱𝑒𝓇𝒾𝓉𝒶𝓈 𝑅𝒶𝓉𝒾𝑜

He’s so strict about your grades, looking at you with disappointment as if a parent would when their child an F. What? does the information just go through and out one ear? (it does for me 😀) Can your brain handle one sentence at a time since it doesn’t look like it to him with these embarrassing grades?

He immediately got you into summer school so you could at least try to get good at other subjects, one subject won’t get you a future. Even worse with fact you can’t even talk without staring endlessly at your paper contemplating just to ask him the most simple question.

The man knows no mercy, making you write out several essays over the whole summer but just like every teacher that wants to suck the souls from students he’ll make you plan every tad bit of detail, even refuse you from starting to write if one detail isn’t explained and well thought out enough for him.

Then oh don’t forget to make the rough draft of the essay (it’s more like writing the real essay itself with the way he’s being strict with every typo & grammar mistake, but oh don’t think you're going to get this using simple and basic words like “in conclusion.” or “well, I believe.” Throw those out the window along with every other basic sentence that people use to put up the word count or just get the whole thing over with. He isn't accepting it. No exceptions.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

Blank.

You’ve been staring at the next part of your sentence but unsure how to use the word “Magnanimity”. How were you even supposed to use this in a sentence?! (he made you pick several high-level words to use in an essay), you look up to silently curse your teacher, Mr. Ratio out in your head before immediately looking back down when your eyes connect.

You begin to contemplate, that maybe jumping out the window ain’t bad, it might be your only way to get out of here. you sigh, just giving up on your constant stalling, getting up from your chair (with your paper in hand) and walking over to your teacher, dreading every step you take.

Before stopping at his desk, “Mr. Ratio, could you tell me what the definition is for magnanimity again?” He just sighs, closing up the book he always reads. (You don’t know why he always reads the same thing, it’s so boring.)

“Magnanimity means the loftiness of spirit enabling one to bear trouble calmly, to disdain meanness and pettiness, and to display a noble generosity.”

you stare at him blankly, he wasn’t kidding, he seriously expected you to know what he was saying?! “I’m sorry but what does that even mean?” you whisper your voice cracking with frustration, you just feel a blood vessel getting bigger.

He sighs once again “Showing kindness towards an enemy or you had been defeated in battle. using it in a sentence would be like he showed magnanimity towards his enemy, understand?”

“Oh, okay. Thank you Mr. Ratio” You nod taking in his words. “Let me see your essay.” He tells you out of the blue, holding his hand out to see your paper, which makes your mouth dry. “you have something written, correct? Let me see it.”

You give him your paper and watch in nervousness before he begins to read out loud “A great man once spoke mighty wor-“ “Mr ratio please read it in your head!” you cut him off with panic, yet what a fool you are since when was he merciful? “a great man once spoke mighty words…”

Listening to him read your essay made you cringe and close your ears. He’s the worst!

if you liked this, consider tipping me on ko-fi! it'd mean a lot!

#✧*:･ﾟ✧:･ Yurinna's Writing :･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧#honkai star rail #honkai star rail x you #honkai star rail x reader #star rail #star rail x reader #hsr x you #hsr x reader #hsr dr ratio #dr ratio #dr ratio x reader #honkai dr ratio #veritas ratio #veritas x reader

214 notes · View notes

pedgito · 1 year

Note

Request idea for Eddie and reader where one day she gets him a few new things like band tees a new pair of jeans a pair of sweat pants and maybe a pack of socks, and Eddie is so confused like why did you do this? I can’t really give you anything in return and she’s just like I was just thinking of you, I love you. And he’s never really had a thoughtful gesture like that.

author’s note: crying at the thought of this, i hope this does your request justice, i was too invested in the storyline of this lol.

cw: 18+ (to be safe) mentions of sex/roleplaying, sad eddie headcanons, reader being the best partner, eddie doesn’t know how to accept gifts, established relationship, if i missed anything lmk!

word count: 1.7k

Eddie wasn’t used to new things. Everything he owned was either hand-me downs or well-loved from a secondhand store—or stolen, because yeah, he’d never had the easiest life. He lived in a mess, compiling almost too much stuff at a certain point, too afraid to part with anything because every piece had some type of meaning to him and he was scared to lose things. Everything always left him, people included, and it was a constant fear that he lived with.

When he meets you, he latches on immediately. But, you start to recognize the patterns early, his obsessive nature with collecting and always taking what was offered to him without question, even if he didn’t really need it, even if didn’t really want it. Eddie had always been raised to appreciate everything, even the most mundane.

Wayne bought him his first guitar, used and always slightly out tune, but it was his first love. So, when he wanted more and couldn’t scrounge up the money, he improvised. He’s never been proud of his habits, even if he didn’t steal anymore—it was a reminder of where he came from, the obvious missing piece in his life that reminded him how unwanted he was. His father left him alone, his mother having been taken much too soon. Wayne was there to mend the broken state of that boy, but he was never well and truly fixed.

His jacket is the one thing he has that’s semi-new. He’d collected the pieces over time, a true creation of his own. There wasn’t a single thing like it in the world, that’s why it was considered new—even if it was falling apart at the seams and constantly having to be sewn back up.

He hates when you clean up his room, afraid he might lose something important—but the whole idea was that you wanted to make sure everything was organized, to relieve the panic he always felt when he couldn’t find something.

When he finally relents, it’s a mountain of discoveries that lead you to the final decision. Eddie needed something new, something untouched and untainted, all his own.

Holes in his socks, his boxers—rips in old shirts that clearly didn’t fit him anymore, jeans marked up in sharpie and shoes that were barely hanging on, worn down to the sole. Despite the obsessive amount of graphic shirts he owned, he always cycled through the same eight or nine, one for each of his favorite bands and a couple Hellfire shirts. His jeans were all black, accompanied with the same rips, though in unique places for each pair. He didn’t own a suit, nothing of the sort—not even a fancy jacket or nice dress shirt.

He always complained about wanting to dress up for you but feeling like it wasn’t worth it, knowing he’d ultimately look like a fool. It wasn’t true, Eddie just didn’t have the money to manage treating himself to something nice. Wayne worked long hours but the pay was horrible, only managing enough to pay bills and put food on the table—and Eddie’s dealing business wasn’t exactly booming, especially when half of his profits went back to Rick.

Luckily you were slightly better off, having never fallen on hardships as hard as Eddie. You didn’t have to work, didn’t have to worry, and Eddie envied you greatly. But, he always noted how you were different from the others at school—the ones who had money, showed it off. You were humble, you kept to yourself, and you never tried to shove it in Eddie’s face.

Still, it didn’t change the fact that you wanted so desperately to treat Eddie, even if he ended up hating you for it. Because if there was anyone he’d refuse to receive gifts from, it was you.

Unfortunately, you weren’t putting up with it this time.

Eddie comes home late on a Friday night, fresh off the adrenaline of his performance at The Hideout, practically bouncing with the lingering energy. He pounces onto you immediately, hands slipping up under your thighs to lift you up, a surprised squeal leaving your mouth.

“Eddie, put me down,” You beg through a weak laugh, pressing a soft kiss to his forehead, feet hitting the floor soon after, “thank you.”

He smiles slightly, eyes darkening with excitement—you knew what he wanted, what he needed, but you needed to get out your surprise first and let him decide then. He doesn’t even notice how spotless the trailer is until he’s peeking into the fridge, the normal, mucky smell now gone.

“Don’t tell me Wayne started sleeping with that one lady again,” Eddie says offhandedly, because you knew just as much about that situation as he did, having lived through the chaos, “last thing we need is her stealing from my stash again, even if she does clean the place spotless.”

“Wayne would never,” You assure him, “not after that shit we gave him for it.”

Wayne was lonely—but it wasn’t lost on him that he had Eddie, and you by association. He’d retired from the dating life soon after a few bad run-ins, settling for nights in with both of you and home-cooked meals when Eddie was busy with his own stuff and you couldn’t keep your hands and feet out of the kitchen.

“It was me,” You shrug, “I got bored and this place reeked.”

“Yeah—and now it smells like a fuckin’ lemon cake.” Eddie grimaces slightly, nose scrunching up in minor disgust.

Your eyes narrow a little, threateningly as you approach him.

“I mean, not that I don’t appreciate it.” Eddie recovers, “fuckin’ love lemons, you know?”

“Uh huh,” You answer mockingly, draping your arms over his neck and forcing him to look at you, eyes gliding over your expression curiously, “—I’ve got a surprise for you.”

Eddie perks up at that, “Please tell me it involves sex.”

His fingers are crossed from where they rest at your waist, wishing and hoping.

“Not quite,” You tell him with a short laugh, “it’s not off the table, though.”

And Eddie doesn’t have any idea what it could be if not that, letting you drag him by his hand to his room, forcing his eyes closed as you cross the threshold.

You reach for the stack of clothes and new pair of shoes and place them into his waiting hands, his face turning up in confusion as he feels it out with his thumbs.

“Role playing, babe—“ Eddie smiles widely, “you really shouldn’t have.”

“No, it’s—“

But, Eddie continues on.

“I know I mentioned something about an elf princess and a knight but we need to, like, plan that out—I had a script planned and everything—“

“Eddie, it’s not clothes for role playing.” You tell him monotone, patting his cheek lightly until his eyes flutter open, glancing down at the clothes briefly before it clicks with him, eyes turning up to you wide and bereft.

“Hey, no—“ Eddie says immediately, voice soft, “I told you no gifts, I don't need them.”

“Shut it, Munson.” You warn lovingly, pushing the clothes back toward his chest that he extends to you, “You don’t get to treat me to things without at least getting something in return.”

“Eating in the parking lot of Benny’s is pretty lame, you know.”

You smile fondly, thinking of all the small, practical dinners you’d have after a long day at school—finding it best to unwind over a burger, feet propped up over Eddie’s lap, the wrapper of his burger resting over the top of your shins and sometimes he’d drop a topping on purpose just to find a reason to touch you. It never failed to make you laugh, watching his tongue swipe against your skin to wipe it clean.

“It’s not,” You tell him honestly, “it’s what I love about you.”

Eddie huffs slightly at that, looking down at the clothes with a tinge of sadness.

“You didn’t have to do this,” Eddie insists, “I have plenty of clothes.”

“But nothing new,” You point out, “fresh off the rack, tags attached—I even got you a new pair of Reebok’s.”

Eddie can’t deny how crisp they look, so drastically different from the shoes on his own feet—a half size to small now and ripping at the seams.

“They are nice,” He smirks slightly, “I just—I don’t know what to say.”

“Don’t say thank you,” You tell him, “I know it’s implied.”

Eddie drops the clothes abruptly on the bed, opting to grab your face with his hands, touching as gently as ever.

“I love you.” The words hit just as strong each time, his eyes watering slightly but not quite reaching the point of tears.

“I know,” You smile, bottom lip pulled between your teeth briefly, “they can be your dress up clothes, yeah?”

Eddie snorts, pressing his mouth against your forehead—not kissing, only touching, pulling you into a warm hug.

“It’s just some socks and underwear—a couple shirts and a pair of jeans, too. I can’t stand the holes, Eddie. I can’t.” Eddie nods knowingly, though the laugh he gives you is full of amusement at your obvious annoyance with the matter.

“I hope you weren’t trying to turn this into an opportunity for really sappy sex,” Eddie says, arms squeezing around your waist to lift you again, “I can’t do slow tonight, sweetheart.”

You nod slowly, “I hate slow,” You didn’t—it was actually nice, the tenderness Eddie showed when he took his time; soft touches, longing looks that made your face heat in embarrassment, knowing how badly he affected you, but the dirty sex was just as good, if not better, “you know that.”

Eddie kisses you quickly, fully, his hands squeezing at your thighs as he bounces you slightly, adjusting his hold on you.

“I meant what I said about the roleplay, by the way.” Eddie interjects, “I’ve got this vision and—“

If you didn’t stop him now, it would never end—so you kiss him quick, deeply, tongue dipping into his mouth and igniting a fire in the low pit of your belly that has Eddie moaning into your mouth.

“Shutting up, got it.” Eddie nods, finally taking the hint.

He doesn’t complain when you buy him new clothes anymore, accepting them with a soft smile and shy acknowledgement of appreciation—because he deserves it and he deserves you.

Please consider a reblog if you enjoyed this fic! It’s makes a huge difference. ♡

#eddie munson #eddie munson smut #eddie munson headcanons #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson blurb #my writing

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lostlovesoul11 · 2 years

Text

[MASQUERADE]

Pairing: Jaemin X Reader Ft Jeno

Warnings: Smut, incubus, extremely dubious/non, subliminal, a lot of manipulation, mind control, posessiveness inexperienced reader, penetration, anal, (Jeno scenes), the usual filth

18+ only! No minors. Read tags beforehand.

Word count: 8k+

My kind of Jaemin 😈 happy belated birthday! Didn't have time to finish it off. Cba with typos if you see them x

Summary: An incubus created a subliminal to feed off humans sexual energy, what happens when you become one of his victims?

I can't believe you bagged Lee Jeno!" Your friend excitedly screams, pulling you closer as she grabs on to your arms and tugs you.

"I know, me too!" You responded, of course you was surpised when that occurred. Lee Jeno has been your crush for a long time, however he was always going on and off in his relationships, having a new girl almost each month.

You was happy. Finally bagging the attention one of the hottest guys around your campus was huge. Your friends have known about your long term one sided crush about him.

"Why don't you look as happy?" She questioned narrowing her eyes as you zoned out completely.

"I am," you state, "It's just that Jeno, he's so experienced and I'm... well... not so.. much. Barely. What if he doesn't like me once he finds out?"

Your friend sighs, "I don't think that matters to him."

"But every girl he's gone out with, they're all are so pretty and experienced. Know what to do in bed and I'm.. not," Insecure thoughts already forming in your head.

Come on. Everyone knows Jeno has a huge sex drive. He fucked nearly all the popular girls around. Sometimes you feel once he finds out, he won't be interested in you anymore. And it sucks because you want to fuck him so badly.

She hums as she listens to your ramble, a slight truth in your words.

"I understand, he's a popular guy and all. But if he acts like that then he's a dick."

"Yeah, you're right," you agreed on with her.

"But you should definitely fuck him though. Hey why don't you experiment with one of our friends?"

Your nose scrunched in disgust, "Ew never!"

Rolling her eyes at your reaction, "I mean you would be comfortable with them at least. In that way you would be able to gain more experince."

"Definitely not friends."

"Is there any one you find cute then?"

"Nope. No one sexually arouses me at all, except for Jeno. I'm so screwed." You sighed in annoyance. It's tough when your stuck on one guy.

Your friend really tried suggesting you ideas but unfortunately you would never do them. You don't find any guy you feel sexually attracted too.

"Have you tried watching porn?" She asked.

"Porn doesn't do it for me. It just feels weird. It's super unrealistic anyways."

You friend nods in agreement, "That is true"

"I remember when I lacked experience I went across on so many articles on first times. Google, Yahoo, Reddit you name it. People tend to sometimes give good advice, maybe you should try it.

Maybe you might come across something interesting..." nudging your arm so you feel somewhat better.

Maybe you might find something good, you thought.

"Thanks, I'll check it out when I go home," you gave a small smile, Anyways I gotta go to class now. Later baby."

It wasn't long until you came back home, finally able to complete your work and take a nice soothing shower. It really helps relieve all aches and stress you encounter throughout the day.

Picking up your favourite pyjamas to wear for the night, your skin damp and moisturised. Grabbing on to your laptop as you join yourself in bed.

Constant thoughts of what occurred today, Lee Jeno is actually interested in you. Almost like a fever dream, never would you had thought it'll be reciprocated, considering how you rarely find people interesting enough, interested in you.

Sighing and shaking your head, you need to be prepared before anything happens, reminding yourself you're not as experienced like he is. Opening your laptop immediately on Google search, fingers typing on the keyboard.

Flicking through your mouse clicking on nearly every page there is on Google. Sighing in frustration, finding the same generic responses from these websites.

"How to drive him wild"

"How to be best at sex"

Showing little to no actual advice on how to improve oneself, placing your both hands above your head as you let out a little scream. Annoyed.

Inexperienced at so called sex but hearing everyone's great experiences around you feels like your missing out on some form of drug. You remember your first time, awkward as ever. Feeling little to no pleasure and the guy only lasted 2 minutes tops. Embarrassing.

Having a crush on Lee Jeno does not in fact help thus makes it worse. Popular guy who's been associated with the popular girls, experienced well enough to match him.

And here's you the complete opposite. Insecure thoughts mingling in your head, "Am I good enough for him?" "What if i embarrass myself, ugh!"

Nope. Fuck that. Your determined to find a way and you will. Bringing the laptop closer to you as you restart the whole search. Eyes completely fixated the white screen ahead, draining you until you scrolled further below.

Your eye brow raised at what's in front of the screen. Clicking on it almost quick, as it sends you off to a YouTube link. The title of the video was called "Be the best at sex FAST! Subliminal"

Your initial thoughts were what the hell is a subliminal? Quickly opening a second tab and entering it on Google search, you come across the meaning.

subliminal

adjective

PSYCHOLOGY

• (of a stimulus or mental process) below the threshold of sensation or consciousness; perceived by or affecting someone's mind without their being aware of it.

In simple terms, a subliminal is a bunch of positive messages. An audio being played without hearing directly what's being said. Mostly consisting positivity. Remaining in your subconscious mind as you listen to it more.

You hummed as you took in the information. Even more so curious if this works with having sex. Being able to do best at it would be perfect for you.

Clicking back on the YouTube link once again, you noticed it had thousands of likes. Popular indeed. You read through the bar as it gave more information on the specific subliminal.

Affirmations

Be best at giving pleasure and receiving to partner

Inducing pleasure at whoever you desire

Great foreplay

Get the best orgasms

Partners keep praising how well you do

Listen once a day however the longer you listen the more power it has. Can induce headaches so drink fluids. Make sure to drink always keep the sound low! Headphones required.

(some of the affirmations mentioned above not all, works efficiently with success one not knowing what is being said)

And the list goes on and on. Okay now this really perked your interest. How does this stuff even work? It's like your in a whole different world. Noticing bunch of comments under the video, you scroll down in curiosity.

User12: Omg i used this and we went 8 rounds last night?????

User009: My sneaky link said the sex was so so so good I legit used this a day before I met him

User22: I used this because I had a date and he said I was the best he's ever been with?!!! Guys this shit works!!!

Use43445: He said i blew his mind and his dick real good LMAO

User67677: Guys you gotta be consistent with these. I typically use it a few times a day and I've noticed so much changes. I keep getting complimented during sex this shit works I swear! Stay positive ✨

Whew. These reviews really got you questioning. There's hundreds of comments which have stated nearly the same thing, that this shit works. It's quite fascinating how many people are in this community yet you had no prior inkling of it.

You won't lie, these comments really got you feeling excitment. What if, what if this works when you use it?

And what harm can it do anyways? Reading everyone's experiences just makes you want to try this out for yourself. You're desperate, you want to be good for Jeno. Perhaps this is the thing that makes you feel more confident and grants you mind blowing sex.

Quickly plugging your headphones in as you clicked the play button. You remembered to keep the volume at the lowest.

Once the play button hit, you did not expect to hear these sounds. It's almost static noises, bunch of voices repeating sounds that are hard to figure out. Feeling like whispers inside your ears.

It was a strange experience to indulge yourself into, never thinking something like this even existed. Letting it play one more time as you got used to the first, excited to see the results upcoming soon.

‐--

Heading to one of your last classes after a very long day. Still feeling tired from last night, feelings of blurness. Making your way down the corridors before a strong hand pulls you, taking you in the corner. Just as you were about to make a noise, only to find it was Jeno.

You didn't expect your crush, Lee Jeno to be cornering you against the wall right now. His tall figure towering you over as one of his hands were on the wall, caging you inside.

You felt shy within his hold, always watching him from the sidelines or from a distance, to having him near you so close is a dream.

"I've been looking for you," Jeno mutters, his eyes stilled on your whole figure watching how uneasy you felt having him so close. Gulping slowly yet cannot form any words. It's like your a dumb statue in front of Jeno.

Youre eyes shifting below, fixed on his body. His body proportions were something else. You know how often he's hitting the gym, workouts in forms of gym and sex. How does he manage to always look so good?

You managed to move your eyes above as he's fully maintained eye contact since. Nervously you speak out, "Y-You w-was...''

Jeno loves how shy you get in front of him. Turth be told, it makes him feel like corrupting you right there. So innocent so shy.

His smile forms a sly smirk, "Of course" His gaze following down your stiff body, eyes returning back to your confused cute state.

"You're my cute girl now," rubbing your cheek with his thumb. Ain't you?" He teasingly asks.

Overwhelmed is an understatement. Not only are you facing the boy you've literally been crushing on for so long, but having him to make you feel all sorts of ways. You could just explode right now.

Simply giving a gentle nod as approval for his words because your absoute gobsmacked to answer. But that's not enough for Jeno. He enjoys seeing you get worked up, telling of how your body reacts in his presence.

He's not blind. Always observed how your longing stares remained on him each day. He loves it. To know someone innocent like you constantly sees and thinks of him. Wondering if you touch yourself thinking of him.

Noticing the distance becoming smaller, feeling your heart almost drop out when Jeno leans in further.

His breathe fanning your ear with his cool breathe. His soft lips latching on to your ear before he sends a whisper, "Say it."

The depth of his voice shook your entire being and your core. Goosebumps raised all over your body. It was a demand, one where you cannot refuse.

It's crazy how much control he has over you, just over this little thing and you're already clenching your thighs? How pathetic.

His face still leaning towards you, your heart beat is exhilarated right now. Finally being able to muster courage as you spoken up. "I'm y-your cute.. girl."

---

It's been days, the last incident with Jeno still sends you shivers. But what hits you more is him sending you a text to come over his house on Saturday. Screaming, crying of joy, the all sorts. Every night you made sure you were listening to the sublimal, seeing how soon enough you'd be at Jeno's.

You're going over to Jeno's on Saturday, aware of the possible things that may will occur. Nerves are kicking in as time approaches, what if you end up making a fool out of yourself?

Wait no! You shouldn't think like that as the subliminal mentions, always keep your thoughts good!

But for once having something to stay positive on, you can't let your negative thoughts override yourself. Remembering the final goal is to become good at sex, perhaps better. Seeing those comments as motivation, if it works for them, it'll work for you too.

You listened to the particular subliminal daily at night. As it states it's best to listen before you go to sleep so the affirmations sink into you subconsciously.

Tonight your switching it up, though. Clicking to add the subliminal in a new Youtube playlist, so it continues to play on for the entire duration of the night.

Being aware how beneficial doing this is than the average use, you will take advantage of it. It's not far off before you meet up with Jeno, you have got to be good for him. Also using it for a longer period creates 10x effective results! This is your chance, anything for Jeno right?

Plugging your ear phones to your phone, laying on your head as your eyelids close. The static sounds playing as usual.

Today you are tired. Already feeling your heavy eyes beginning to shut. Knowing you'd probably fall as asleep any given time.

It's probably been a good few hours since you fell asleep. Shuffling randomly as a habit, eyes drained yet still feeling awake. Hearing the music in the playing constantly

Thoughts of him appearing of that day. The way he leaned in close enough, almost feeling him on top of you. Imagining being submissive underneath his body, letting him crush you down with his full body weight and muscular thick arms.

"J-Jeno..." breathing a soft moan. Not even aware of what you're saying. Too sleep drunken out of mind.

All of a sudden a loud thund was heard across your room. Snapping back into reality as your heavy eyes struggled to open properly. Unable to see clearly but enough to see a shadow figure lingering near the window. Your eyes must be playing tricks you assumed.

But no. The dark figure walked forth, almost marching ahead of your bed. Eyes fully snapping, horrified from seeing it approach ahead. You froze. Words are trembling out of your frightened state, W-who... are you.... "

The dark figure stopped nearby the end of the bed. Light from the moon outside shined upon his face, exposing himself. His eyes were lowly watching you, briefly changing his expression as a smile came on. It's terrifying in an instant how much his expression changed to gentle smiles.

The colour of his hair was prominent, dirty ashy blonde. Until your eyes shifted and widened seeing two identical horns on each side of the head. How can someone so beautiful look so scary?

"Jaemin," He blurted out with a grin,"The incubus."

Silence following as he spoke. Who the hell is this guy and what is a incubus? Your confused yet terrified of such a being in front of you. Is this just a bad dream?

"W-what are you.. doing here?" Feeling apprehensive as you questioned moving your gaze to his. You cannot believe a whole demon is right beside your bed, one that is strikingly breath taking.

Jaemin chuckled before he responds, closing distance as he approaches closer and closer, his hand above your head giving a gentle pat. "You called for me, pretty."

Shocked. Body tensing at the feel of his touch, comforting yet electrifying felt. Unable to understand what exactly he's saying. Why and when did you call for a incubus? You don't even remember anything, lost in your thoughts before Jaemin snaps you out of it.

"The subliminal," He shoots out, "Recall anything now?"

Eyes widen at the accuracy, how does he know about that subliminal. You've never once shared it with anyone, hell not even with your own friends.

"How do you know..." Is all you could mutter from your mouth.

"Ah, well I am the creator of it." Watching the confusion lingering in your mind. Walking closer until he stops, "Do you know of my kind?" He asks.

Frankly you're not entirely aware of it, so answer with a no.

"I'm a sex demon," He speaks up whilst licking his lips. "The subliminals help me feed off from humans when I'm hungry.'

Your eyes widening at his statement,"That can be in forms of thoughts, wet dreams, or reality.."

Your lost for words. Not even realising before Jaemin snaps you out of thoughts.

"Jeno is it?" He remarks, watching how fast you reacted hearing that name. God you was so down bad for him. Smelling the desperation from a mile off.

Eyes widening at the name of Jeno. How on earth does he know who that is?! Feeling fright each second comes, fearful of what this incubus knows and wants from you.

"How d-do you know Jeno?" You spoke lowly.

Jaemin loves how cute the wrinkles on your forehead form while your confused. Poor little thing having no idea of what is occuring and how.

"Well," Clearing his throat, "You were calling out the name Jeno in your sleep. Almost like a mantra," he smirked. His voice becoming high pitched before he shouts out, "Jeno Jeno Jeno..."

Embarrassment flies above you as you try covering your face with your hands. Did he really hear you be down bad for Jeno? Gosh this is so embarrassing.

Hey," Jaemin chuckled quietly, leaning over to remove your hand off your pretty face, "It's natural. When humans like someone they tend to think/dream of the person a lot." Reassuring you and making you feel less embarrassed.

You let out a sigh. Grateful that he isn't mocking you any further. Seemingly being very thoughtful to your feelings. Gorgeous and considerate, you thought.

Licking your lips as you talk, "God this is so... okay. Jeno is a guy I have a crush on. Like a lot," Emphasising the word as Jaemin quirks a brow up.

"But i feel like I'll make a mockery out of myself ugh'' Speaking honestly.

Jaemin's face slightly falters, his hand places itself on yours as comfort, "What makes you say that?"

At this point you've embarrassed yourself enough in front of an incubus, a hot one, so why not just speak out those insecure thoughts.

"I'm not.. well experienced. At sex." Blantly confessing your issue.

It goes unnoticed how quickly the incubus's eyes almost switched, his eyes darken. Taking in your helpless phlight. You're begging for something. He smelt the desperation ever since he entered in the room. He's very aware, because he knows you.

"Why don't we make a deal?" The incubus proposes.

You looked up as your forehead lines crinkled, confused at what the incubus means by deal.

"What deal?"

He smiles as his hand shifts to your left cheek, rubbing it gently as if your some delicate flower, "That's what my subliminal is made for, I can give you the experience."

His eyes looming over yours as you watch in shock what he suggested, "And in return, I get myself a meal for the night. A win win."

How does someone, an incubus give someone experience? More so is it possible to even have sex with one, wha-

"B-but how will it feel? Won't it feel different to humans?"

Jaemin chuckled, "Well to be honest it feels the exact same. Probably even better," He whispers lowly, enough to feel arousal by his words alone.

Contemplating whether you should or not being lost in your dazed mind before Jaemin snaps you out by replying, "You don't have to. Ita totally your choice," your eyes shift back towards him as you reconsider.

"But hearing how much you like him, it would be a shame not being good enough for Jeno.."

Not good enough. Those same words creeping back to you, will you ever be good enough? You take in everything Jaemin has mentioned to consideration. Maybe this is it. Your chance to prove yourself wrong.

You're ready for whatever right now. Sighing loudly as the incubus awaits for your response with focus.

"Okay.. fine... I accept it," Your voice pulls through. Though having no inkling of what to be expected next. Truthfully, Jaemin is one hot incubus, his touch alone makes you tingle. So why not huh?

Jaemin's extremely ecstatic hearing your answer. He can already tell how you are, easily shy yet gets worked up quickly.

He wants to tease you further, "Yeah?" His voice sinks deeper, gaze darkening by each second like he's pulling you in a dark hole. His body looming over yours, sinking below the bed as he hoovers above.

Eyes stayed still with yours, breathing getting faster having a presence take over you like this. Feeling hot and bothered already, wondering if he can smell the arousal from below.

Your chest heaves up as you breathe, emphasising your firm breasts, poking out to feel a touch.

The incubus watches with his predator eyes. Thrilling him many ways you cannot think of. Seeing a pretty innocent girl laying there for him to devour, noticing the way your skin formed goosebumps all around.

Watching your dazzled face as you closed your eyes, opened while the incubus is above, watching your pity face. His nose hitting against yours as the proximity grows, watching you through his eyelashes how easily you laid for him, allowing him to take you to a path of pleasure.

Already feeling things despite him not even beginning, Jaemin made you feel ways you've never before.

Leaning in close enough that heart beats can be heard, the incubus dives right near the neck and takes a big inhale of you, your scent. He loves how fresh you smell, feeling himself growl already.

Diving in to your skin when he smoothers your shoulder with soft kisses, his lips felt almost unreal. Breathing fanning across your exposed chest, allowing sensations to form across your entire being.

Going further below, stopping at the sight of your perky breasts. "So if Jeno touched you here," His strong hand engulfing the entire breast moving it upwards and down, "Would you let him?"

He's only just touched you and already feel like you'd burst. Feeling his hands wander causing you feeling ticklish. Jaemin watches how cute you are, just a touch and already breaking? Cute.

Not even realising when your top has sunked down, Jaemin's long tongue attacks. Never seeing a tongue like such before, giving a few licks as his saliva drips to your nipple, watching you in awe as you bite down your lip at the unexpected action.

"Words pretty," He startles you with a bite for not answering his question. Too engrossed in the feelings of pleasure, you whine at the slight pain.

Jaemin watches how lost for words you are, "How else would Jeno know how you feel?"

"Yes... It f-feels.. so good..." a loud moan escapes your mouth, just thinking about having Jeno like this, do this with you. Wondering if this is how it'll feel.

He hums, trailing his long tongue further down your stomach, to the dangerous place. You gasped loudly, shutting your thighs together as immediate reaction. You could literally cum with the amount of wetness you have.

"Don't be shy," He cooed as his arms dismantle your legs widening back again, revealing the effect of the incubus.

You felt shame with not having nothing on underneath exposing whatever is below. Your face becoming flustered watching Jaemin focus on you.

His face leaning against your core, tongue swirling trying to take in your taste and wentess "Don't you want to show Jeno the creation we made?"

His dark eyes looking above you, gauging your reaction when you whine.

Legs trembling beneath him as you watch Jaemin's tongue surround your clit in circles, your eyelashes fluttering before you could even form words to speak, "Y-Yes..."

The feeling felt so surreal. It accounts to nothing compared to your first time, haven't felt nothing. Almost thinking your broken. But Jaemin, made you feel worlds, places you've never seen or been before.

Feeling your head dropping back on to your pillow, Jaemin laughs having not done much yet seeing your body jolting at his given touch. Loving how weak you are for him, letting him take over you.

His tongue dives through your wet folds, catching you offguard when it enters inside you. Gasping so loudly, it felt a weird good.

Your legs expand while your slowly thrust yourself up, allowing his tongue to get deeper.

Wanting to feel more, you could even cum from this alone. Jaemin saw how restless you began to act, moving in ways just to feel him deeply in. You want this so bad.

"J-Jaemin.. need more.." whining like a baby, not being to handle it.

The incubus was hard as ever, cock growing each second as you beg for more. He brings his clothed cock against your thigh and brushes it above, wanting you to feel how he's become, for you. Never have felt something so hard before, wandering how it would feel once its out.

Pulling his huge cock out as you admire the length and size. Excitment builds all over your body, core throbbing for it to enter inside.

He watches your reaction with a smirk, catching you offguard by grabbing firmly on to your legs, putting them above his shoulders.

The intrusion came suddenly, a push you could feel in your guts. He was large, growing more inside of you. You're melting into the pleasure, slowly losing it as he thrusts inside a few times. Eyes clenching, hand gripping on the sheets to hold yourself.

His hand gripping on your thigh, delivering much more fast paced thrusts. It's absolute silence in the room, until Jaemin speeds up more and more, filling the room up with sounds.

"Do you hear that?" His pace becoming faster, closing his eyes from the pleasure of being inside of your warmth, infiltrating your hole like your a fuck doll showing zero mercy on how your coping.

The clapping sounds as his cock hits against your core, hitting all part of your body.

He lowers his body to find his lips against your ears delivering a cold whisper, "Jeno's favourite sound."

Your hands clutch tightly on the sheets, biting down your lip at hearing that. Getting fucked to a new dimension with a incubus while imagining Jeno doing this to you.

What a dream.

It's like the incubus knows you inside out, know what tickles your brains, knows what words to say to drive you to the blink of insanity. Almost like he knows your body than you do.

He chuckles knowing how this gets you going and doesn't stop, making sure you feel him in every bone of yours.

Jaemin released an animalistic growl, shooking you completely.

"Like the way I fuck? Fuck you deep in the guts while you think about Jeno?"

His eyes turning scary yet making you feel so much pleasure, can't help but think of him destroying you fully. You love the feel of him and his cock.

"F-Fuck yeah... Jaemin... yes!" Moaning out like a crazy person, He chuckles at your reaction as he hits against your skin, slowly pulling out to deliver slower strokes.

Rolling his hips and pushing himself inside out, slowly watching your face and mouth parting in pleasure.

"Fuck, feels so..."

Watching how your eyes below see him pushing himself slowly in you, sensing how you tighten the hold against him with your thighs. You want him there, want to feel his inches expand more.

"My kind would love you," Blurting randomly making you think if they're also just as good as Jaemin.

"T-They would?" You curse internally feeling yourself cum at any second.

Jaemin sensing how you're clenching his length in, hissing at how pleasurable it feels for him.

He sends a brief smile before he pushes himself in harder, with each thrust hitting your spot inside, "Yes, pretty little human who begs to take cock.

"Loves cock, deep enough to wreck your entire being."

"Obedient human whore who fulfils the dreams of us demons..

"Fuck! Gonna cum.."

Jaemin felt yourself climax all over his length, nearing his own when he removed his cock out. Lowkey wishing he had left it in, to coat your walls up.

"Shit," He beings to curse under his breath ss he splatters his cum all over your heaving chest. The cum beginning to make it's own trail down your stomach and thighs.

"Did so well for me.."

---

Waking up felt like a blur. Mind to dazzled to even think straight. Was it all a dream? You don't recall properly. But whatever it was, you felt it. Almost like it was real, it had to be. unknowing your body can react in many ways.

It's been days since your encounter with the incubus, never seeing him ever again. You do tend to get thoughts of him occuring weirdly.

Taking you back to the time how well he fucked you, made you feel a whole different experience. The thought of is still makes your thighs clench.

You still carried on listening to the subliminal ensuring to gain the best results. You'd be seeing Jeno in a few hours and honestly, you're excited.

He's your crush after all. You'd be lying if you said you wasn't nervous, Jeno always had this strong hold on you.

And now finally you will be around him, all alone.

You made sure you wore your best cute fit on, the skirt definitely made your ass look plumped

And now you're here. Inside Jeno home, something you have always wanted to see. Playing on a movie in the background, he buckles up closer to you making you feel tensed already. Having Jeno at this proximity drives you insane.

"You okay?" Jeno asks.

"Yeahh, why?"

"You seem distracted," He notices, eyeing how you haven't been watching the movie much.

To be honest, all you kept thinking of is how it would be later, will you embarrass yourself infront of your crush? God you hope not.

"I'm f-fine, it's just..." your face is getting heating up already as you look down.

Fuck. That look drives Jeno insane.

"Aw, are you blushing?" Lifting your chin up to meet with his gaze.

"Don't do that, it makes me hard."

You feel like the air just got sucked out of you. Did he really just.. say that? Blinking awkwardly not knowing what to respond.

Jeno cannot take his eyes off you despite the movie on in the background, the way you strut over his home with a cute crop top and skirt, already has him going feral.

He laughed watching you react, turning to lean back to his usual spot. You felt somewhat relief he was playing. Yeah right.

He's known for being extremely flirtious which clarifies the statement once he does the following thing, "Want a snack?"

You look towards him and nod, only to see him place a popcorn directly in his mouth as you watched in awe.

"Come take it then," He smirks, putting his hands behind his head as he leans down on the couch.

Watching how flustered you seem already you can't deny how hot he looks right now. A surge of unknown confidence arises within you as you approached closer, face hitting his. Titling your head to dive in further only for Jeno to swallow the popcorn, capturing a kiss between your lips.

Grabbing you by your waist, pulling you closer as your kissing grows more. Almost like you both yearned for a taste, finally able to. Your lips felt so soft to Jeno, always admiring how plumped they've looked every time.

"Sit on my lap," He pulls away to breathe as he spoke, following up as you place yourself above him, without thought straddling him as the kissing continues.

Your skirt rid up exposing your bare ass, earning a harsh slap from Jeno's hand. "Needy girl, already wanting to cum on me?"

Keep moving back and forth letting yourself feel his thigh all up you, it feels amazing. His hands gripping on your hips as he straddles you faster with his pace.

"S-sorry..." Biting your lip hard, allowing him to move you with his pace yet trying to feel more.

"Skirts..." He groans as he looks down at the way your pretty skirt looks. Ever since you entered all that was Jeno's mind was how sexy you looked. His eyes focused below making you feel slightly shy in his hold.

Fingers grazing your thigh following near your core, a gasp running out of your mouth at the touch.

Closing your eyes only to recall the moments with Jaemin. The way his tongue went up against your wet core, intruding it's way inside of you. Fuck.

Your eyes still closed immersing the similiar feeling, already feeling in a rush for something more, bigger to come.

"You wore this skirt for me, right?" His tone turning deep, finger brushing past your with circles, "Wanted my attention that bad?" Sudden feeling of his finger entering inside your wet core, sliding in and out.

"Mmmmm..." moaning out from the pleasure being received. Thrusting yourself with the finger trying to chase the orgasm, reminding you of Jaemin.

Remembering how the incubus's reaction was seeing you chase for your pleasure, finding it cute.

"You definitely got my attention," Already clenching on his fingers about to feel yourself cum, Jeno fastens his speed watching you nearing.

He loves how incredibly wet you've become, all for him. He thought.

You look so cute to him already feeling worn out by your orgasm that rides throughout your body, cumming straight on his fingers when you released.

But you're craving more. So much more, that you begin to remove Jeno's pants like a starved animal. Surpised by your reaction, joining in as he pulls down everything, his hard cock springing out.

"I need your cock. Right now." You demanded. No idea where this sudden confidence has come from but knowing this is exactly whats needed right now.

"Fuck," Jeno groans, pushing you down on all fours on the couch. Watching you remove your panties down, skirt hitched all the way up with your ass in display.

Your needy thoughts coming, not being able to wait any longer. Your back completely arched, pulling yourself back close enough to give his cock a few rubs with your hand. Just soon after, trying to place it inside of yourself.

You backed on him as you felt himself fully insert inside of you. Jeno groans so loud, his cock finally getting inside of something, getting some action.

"You're so fucking sexy," He groans loud, watching how you back yourself up with his cock swallowing it up each time. Jeno tilts his head back, lip biting at the pleasure he's getting from you.

You felt so nice wrapped around him, he's fucked many girls but no one had the confidence like you. Normally he's the one to lead but this time it's you, begging to feel him in your hole, taking him in like a good girl.

Jeno grabbed tightly on your hips as he thrusted himself on you, both moaning together as he works his cock in, "Shit, feels so good..." you gasped.

You love Jaemin's cock

Suddenly a thought comes in to your mind. All you can think of is Jaemin, how nicely his cock penetrated your insides, fucking it all up.

You can't get rid of the thought of his burning eyes watching you take him all in with no complaints, like you're made for him. Only you can take it.

Beginning to feel this pent up frustration rise up within yourself, you shout out. "Give me more! Harder!"

Not even knowing what you even expected yourself. You just wanted to take everything, you wanted to experience Jaemin again.

"Harder?" Jeno spoke as he leaned forward, dragging you back as you felt him push you harshly against his thighs, balls smacking behind you loudly.

"More! More!" You screamed.

"Knew you shy bitches were freaks." Jeno speeding as his arms grip stronger down your hips, making sure he delivers deeper strokes.

Sweat dripping on both bodies, your wetness stirring emotions inside of him.

Your eyes are closing up, almost like feeling like your body is losing touch with itself. Everything around you felt hazy. All you can think of in this state was Jaemin.

The tip of his throbbing cock hitting your spot, the overwhelming pleasure hitting your entire body. "Walking around like a uptight virgin but fucking like a pornstar, who taught you this?" His hissed.

He seriously wonders how you are this good. Have you fucked around a lot? Just couldn't believe how the campus shy girl who barely maintains eye contact fucks like a pro.

Was you this receptive to others? Let their cocks see how nice your cunt feels, to be wrapped around you?

His hands made its way to your chest, top raised up exposing your perky breasts. Cupping them in his hands once again. The pleasure of his cock and him touching your breasts was heavenly as you moaned.

He yanks your hair back with force, a whimper escaping from your mouth escalating the pleasure.

His mouth attaching itself on your neck giving small pecks, softly before his sore body penetrates you further.

The pleasure begins to feel immense, body losing its balance as you fell. Jeno turns you around being face to face, wanting to admire your pretty face.

For a moment, you swore you saw Jaemin. His hungry eyes spreading your swollen thighs open, positioning his cock back inside.

Puppy eyes as you watch how the cock slides back and forth, moistened with your wetness. God how do you manage to look so innocent yet be so filthy, Jeno wondered.

It's what arouses him furthermore, watching him like you've never seen such a cock before. Boosting his ego knowing he gets to witness you in this way.

"Fuck I'm close," Keeping his eyes on yours as he grunts. Giving you much slower thrusts, watching your mouth part in pleasure. Already clenching around his cock.

You wrap your arms around his neck, surprising Jeno at the action. Slowly pushing him down on your body, allowing him to fully crush you below.

Your hands grazing all over his skin, remembering the feel of how Jaemin's arms pinned your thighs roughly. All you kept thinking was having his huge build tower over you.

Even if it was hard to breathe.

He looks up only to put his mouth on yours, kissing you away with his thrusts. Both groaning mixed with pleasure and pain.

You begin to bite your lips roughly as he pants out, "Want to feel my cum? Need my cum in this pussy of yours, hm? Drillng his cock with speed that's making you seeing stars.

Your cries underneath get louder, legs shaking at how desperately you need to feel cum.

Jaemin didn't cum inside of you which did make you feel a way. All you imagined was how he would be the one who's giving all his cum inside of you, pumping you full.

"Please.. want your c-cum..." You desperately cry.

And that's exactly how you felt when Jeno coated all your walls white. The thought itself of Jaemin cumming inside of you made your toes curling up, climaxing alongside with him. A feeling of warmth hits your core, something you've never experienced.

It feels so so good. You want that feeling to stay as long as it could. Your panting to breath out, legs shaking and aching.

It hadn't even hit you yet until Jeno speaks up, "Fuck, you did so well and took me so good." Planting another kiss yet on your lips, he can feel himself get hard once again.

It's ridiculous how he's feeling weak within your hold. He's honestly so impressed, being his best sexual experience so far.

---

You reach home with confused thoughts. At this point, you don't even know what you wanted.

Finally fucking your long time crush, the Lee Jeno. The one who you always admired from a distance, watching him interact and play, talk to a bunch of people, extremely popular even with the girls. The same girls who you wished you could be in place with.

You should be happy now right? So why do you feel unsatisfied and conflicted.

Feeling like you was literally under some influence despite not even drinking any alcohol. Why did Jaemin's thoughts appear? Why did he have to come whilst your fucking your crush. It made no sense.

Worst of all, Jaemin was on your mind the entirety of sex. You basically used Jeno to get off about Jaemin, fuck! That's like so messed up.

How could you do this? Do this to Jeno?

Feeling a incoming headache just by finding reasonings as to what's happening with you. You have so many questions. Yet no answer. Except one person could.

Jaemin.

But you haven't ever seen him since that day, possibly he may never return. Especially when the deal was done.

That's until you heard a particular loud thud in your room. Rushing in fear of someone possibly breaking in, only to find Jaemin, the incubus. The incubus who's been tormenting your mind.

"Hey pretty, missed me?" Plastering a pleasing grin across his face, approaching you.

Your fear subsided, letting out a deep breath as you begin to compose yourself. Your mind going back to his said question, deeply you felt a tug. You did miss him.

"Jaemin.. you scared me." You sighed, it was so unexpected to visit. Deep down you was glad to see him once again because you thought you never will.

He walks over to you as his hand makes contact with your cheek, "Sorry princess. Are you okay?" He feigned concern.

God he was so caring, always wanting the best for you.

You're not okay. All you think of is Jaemin even whilst being with Jeno. Does that mean your catching feelings...

You look so distressed yet so adorable he thinks, the way your brows furrow and eyes close as if your fighting against something.

"I don't k-know what's wrong with me.." Feeling ridiculous about what your experiencing yet humiliated to mention. You don't even realise your mumbling your words, body moving in itself.

"I-I was with Jeno and I t-thought.." You stammered your words trying to explain to him what exactly is going on.

"That's the problem," Jaemin speaks up as his hand goes above your head giving gentle strokes.

"Who told you to have thoughts, pretty?" He laughed.

His tone sounding completely condensending, like he is mocking everything you've mentioned. Your stomach begins to drop at the discomfort that's brewing inside.

His face connecting closer, darkness emitting his deep eyes, shocking you with his words with a deep tone, "You don't have thoughts, I think for you. Don't you understand?"

Your eyes widening with a tint of fear behind. What's wrong with him? He's never acted in this way, his whole demeanour changed within a split second. Terrfied.

The very look that gives the incubus such satisfaction. His hand raising as he lifts your chin up, your body jolting within his touch.

"Dumb little human. Stooping low enough to bargain your soul," Having the same grin that's always plastered across his face at this moment is sickening to see.

He's the true epitome of a demon.

"Y-You.. did.. this?" Voice shaking from the absolute reality of this incubus. The very Jaemin whom you considered to be helping you this entire time was doing the opposite.

"I did nothing." His tone refusing to acknowledge his doings, remaining composed.

The sudden sounds of multiple voices begin to erupt inside your ears, sounding exactly similiar to what you've always been listening to.

The subliminal.

Your eyes begin turning hazy, almost like you can't see a thing ahead. Trying your best to maintain open eyes as you blink, yet failing to do so. Your mouth deprived from thirst, causing dryness. The whispers escalating more and more, until you become accustomed to it, pulling you into trance.

Jaemin coos, watching the state you've become. The very thing he had always wanted. Such a poor sight to witness.

Who owns you?

Jaemin.

What are you good for?

Being Jaemin's whore.

Your body is?

Jaemin's property.

Who fucks and uses you?

Jaemin fucks and uses all my holes voluntarily.

My favourite hole?

The ass.

"See?" His hand brushing along your face, "I taught you so well, didn't I?" You nodded.

Jaemin had those messages hidden quite well, no one could have even guessed. He managed to put those messages in reverse. Knowing no one would ever consider checking. Sneaky. Humans are fucking stupid, after all.

He's come across many willingly wanting to do things, selling their souls for person. It's ridiculous but it works.

He convinced you he was only to help. And you being the mere foolish human.. fell for it.

Targeting weaknesses was his thing. He knew how badly humans lacked affection, craved it whether it's from the right or wrong individual.

And he was right, which lead him to make the subliminal in the first place. Coming out to enter his human form, creating a perfect subliminal to make everyone his slave.

It was a shock to him also at first, but each time his hunger grew larger. His lust never settled down only expanding. To know he has the human power in his hand and the best way to use it against them?

Their minds.

And here it is, your own mind being your own enemy.

Soon after your body began acting on its own. Almost vibrator stuck inside of you throbbing continously at the highest setting. You're not used to this intensity, which makes Jaemin want to watch you suffer just a little bit.

Your nipples erecting on its own, begging to be touched. The growing need of having a cock inside of it worsens. You need something. You need Jaemin.

It's beginning to feel so painful, even when your palm hits you core you cannot take it. It's painful to touch. Your body making reactions as it gets worse, pleading eyes looking straight ahead.

"Jaemin. Touch me." You begged.

"Hm?"

"Please!"

"How does it feel?" He asks, as if he can't see the ultimate mess you're becoming. Clearly telling of how your body is reacting, begging to feel a cock.

"S-so good." You breathe out.

"Oh? Doesn't seem like it." He shrugs, ignoring your reactions.

Taking a deep breath upon his words. How could he not see your struggling? The hand on your cunt is full of slick, dripping beneath your thighs.

Cries becoming louder, moving back and forth against your own palm. It's embarrassing at this point. But you cannot help it.

Your moans coming from the mouth, getting closer to a particular feel, "It's not good enough.."

Oh Jaemin is very well aware of that. From the moment he picked you all he ever thought was how much prettier you'd look begging for his touch. To the point of feeling like there's no other, only Jaemin.

The way you were oh so very innocent at the start, barely having knowledge on what you were expected to do. So naive yet compliant.

It pleasures him to see you to see you have a look of distress and begging. Licking his lips at the sight of you when he gazes you down.

Suddenly his hand roams against your thighs, causing a shiver throughout. His finger moving in circles whilst his eyes locked against yours, "Let me make it good.." He offers you despite withholding touch from before.

The throbbing escalates, your body muscles tighten at the lingering touches of him. Moving all the way up, meeting the core. You sat down, legs subconsciously opening wider as each finger grazes past your core.

Though Jaemin had no intention of ever putting those fingers inside.

"But not in this way.." He slowly teases making you think he's backtracking once again. Causing more frustration. Only to find him reach lower against you, his breath sending tingles over your core.

Your eyes rolling, awaiting to give you want you desperately needed. His tongue.

"Look at this hole," He delivered a slap causing you to whimper as you bite down your lips.

His eyes fixated above as he watches, smirking when he continues to slap. He can see how each time he does, your needy hole clenches so fast.

It's begging for intrusion, desperately wanting to swallow his finger inside.

Jaemin's mouth attaches towards your neck, giving little pecks before he moves against your lips. Your eyelashes were fluttering with the feeling itself making you feel so so good.

Moving back against the side of your neck, sending a cool whisper, "I didn't like how swollen your lips were from him." A tint of posessiveness showing from his side.

He noticed ever since you walked in how pink and swollen they were.

He drags his mouth against your jaw before he sends a quiet whisper, "So I'm going to make them bleed."

Trailing his lips further up as he reaches the place once again. This time with much more force, the kiss turning aggressive.

He kissed you like you're his first ever meal, hungrily. Tongues moving against each another's before he bites, causing you to moan straight inside his mouth.

It hurt so good. You didn't realise when you gasped, Jaemin pulled away slowly before licking the remains on the blood formed on your lower lip, "Better."

God did he look strikingly with bloody lips, watching him lick his entire lip, tasting you.

Not even having a chance to react, he turns you around hastily. Excitement stirring throughout your body.

Your holes are begging for some kind of action. You're a mess. Looking back at him with teary eyes, "J-Jaemin, it's moving.."

Instead, ripping away your skirt he exposes your ass. Specifically the hole. His eyes widen full of lust. Your hole was pulsating away like it had it's own heart beat.

"Fuck.. you're begging for me.." Justifying at the action in front. It's you that wants this to happen, to let him do whatever he can.

The fascination as he watches how quickly your hole opens itself and shuts. You're seriously asking for it, for him to lose all control.

You pressed yourself against his ingrowing cock, moving it slowly all around only to hear the incubus's big growl. He knows what your doing.

Only to feed his wet lips attach itself against your hole, salivating all the wetness that's been present since.

He breathed against them as his tongue took a long lick all the way, "Bet Jeno didn't touch these lips."

You could feel his smirk behind you as he plants kisses above.

Naturally rocking your body back and forth, thinking when his long tongue will finally intrude it's self in.

"Humans. So pathetic." He laughed, undressing himself with his cock shooting out. The tip looking so red, the prominent veins showcasing above it, ready to erupt any given time.

His cock surrounds all over your throbbing hole, trying to take him in. He teases his tip all around allowing your wetness to coat him.

"Remember I said I'd make it good?"

Jaemin is hoovering above you, as you watched back only to see his huge thick cock growing expendiosly. You licked your lips in sight, yearning for it to enter behind.

His body falling over yours, giving small little licks all the way to your spine and above. Your arching your back completely as you bite down the whimpers falling from your mouth.

"Y-Your so nice to me.." It's like you don't even remember anything thats occurred. Being so fucking deprived, your complimenting the incubus when he makes you feel good.

The same who put you in this form of hell.

He laughs lowly against your skin, "Humans.. ah, my weakness. Thanking me even during my most selfish moments, do you not know my kind, yet?"

Just as you leaned back again, he thrusted himself inside. Both pushing yourself further as Jaemin slides through, you make it so easy for him.

You could feel Jaemin's entire body hurdled against your back, his tongue sending small licks around your earlobe before he bites it down. You're faltering already at his actions, coating his cock with more wetness you've produced.

Jeno was nothing compared to Jaemin. Jaemin had such a bigger cock no doubt, but it's almost as if it keeps growing once it's inside. Feeling like it'll pierce through your brain, making you literally fucked out of thoughts.

Your legs were shivering, not used to this kind of thing, not used to such a huge cock.

You'd never think an Incubus could be the one who destroys you, from mind body and soul. Doubting that anyone could even compare to this, Jaemin already making sure your completely ruined to even be used by others. Even his own kind.

"My perfect little human. Always complying to take my cock, right?" He pushes himself further, penentrating your hole like its nothing.

"Yes.. want your cock, want it so badly, want to be filled.. please.." Moaning away as you take it all, like you should. You're here to please after all.

He brings his huge hand as it cups your face, making you turn around to watch your desperate state, "What happened to the innocent girl who barely knew how to take cock, now begging to get filled?"

Enjoying the state you've become but that's purely because you sold your soul off to him. His inches becoming deeper inside as he thinks back to your stupidity.

"Dumb fucking whore, good for nothing but just another hole for me to slide my cock in. You should be grateful you were the chosen one," He snarls, gripping on to your hips with force enough to cause bruises.

Your thighs shaking frantically, your hole feeling swollen from his constant deep thrusting.

Getting pulled behind, slamming his cock with much force. Your cries are filling the silence of the room, wandering how much more deep can he get.

"See?" He whispers behind your ears, "You were never meant for Jeno."

He penetrates faster, as sweat is dripping from his forehead down to your body.

"Even when you fucked him, who was you thinking of during the time?" He asked cockily already knowing the answer yet wanting to stroke his high ego.

"You! Jaemin!" You shouted out, getting fucked out completely.

Jaemin's eyes close up brewing feelings of extreme lust, knowing he's the better option to cease. He opens his eyes before he laughs, "Exactly it shows your just made for me, pretty."

Your mouth is drooling as he begins to roll his hips, the urge to cum getting stronger as he continues. Only for him to stop.

"Fuck.. want to remain here for entirnity." He continued licking every inch of your body, goosebumps raised by his touch.

Your breath hikes up as he knibbles away in your much weaker spots.

"Jaemin, please fuck me." Whining at the loss of his cock.

"I am," He lazily thrusts to get you geared up. Only to catch you offguard completely.

His burning eyes making their way back to yours, turning you around as both your faces touch. A whisper escaping from your lip, seeing Jaemin this close brings shivers.

He's admiring your state of utter desperation. The weakness your portraying, almost like giving up. Like a child being starved from food.

Tears glistening your entire face, Jaemin thinks you look the prettiest this way. The wrecked up way.

Too stilled with each other eyes, a hand makes it's way down your core. Rubbing the the clit furiously. It's so fucking intense, not only what he's doing but his eyes piercing in your soul.

He's enjoying watching you wither infront of his hold. Only he can the power to do this. His speed increasingly getting faster, your thighs clenching unable to control the pleasure. It's a completely overwhelming state to be in.

Not only that, Jaemin's lazy speed grew back to his usual. Intense and overbearing.

Your thighs getting hit against one another with an ache, "Ever since I laid my eyes on you, I want to ruin you so much. Wreck each and every human part of you.." He sighs, angrily thrusting in and out of you.

"Want to make you mine, welcome you into my Hell." His fingers attached deeply on to your hips as he speeds up. You feel bruised already but hearing his words is making you clench around his entire length.

"F-Fuck.. I'mma cum.."

"Cum for me pretty." His thrusts gaining more strength, hands above your clit whilst he flickers it with his fingers.

You cummed all over his cock, eyes squeezed as you saw stars. Your legs trembling, burning with severe ache. Moans still leave through your mouth at how well you were getting fucked and still are as Jaemin continues.

His cock growing harder as ever inside of your hole knowing his about to finish off. "Want to be filled? Be my cumdump? Let me fill up your needy hole?" He groans deeply, lips attached near your shoulders.

You turn back with pupply like eyes, begging to feel him inside of you already. "Please Jaemin, Please cum, cum in me Please.." Rocking back and forth with his cock giving it a final push.

Your begging is music to his ears. Your soft pleas, he can't take it any longer. His face dipped back on your shoulder releasing an animalistic growl. It was so loud, your certain everyone could hear. Never knowing how deeper his voice could become.

"Come on," Breathing becoming faster, take it for me.Take it all inside."

His cum splatters all inside of your hole, coating your entire inside. Some of the cum dripping below your thighs. Watching your ass becoming needy and sucking in the rest of his cum.

"Fuck...." He licked his lip whilst his cock remained in your ass, watching you yet clench against him.

Your eyes fluttering at another intense orgasm, body jolting all around. You both were exhausted completely.

"You're perfect for me."

Your phone on your bed literally vibrated right after, Jaemin being the one to turn it on.

Jeno♡♡ [01.00am] i miss ur pussy

Jeno♡♡ [01.01am] can we meet up tommrow???

Jaemin let out a huge scoff. Jeno definitely was out of the picture now, you've chosen who you wanted.

He deleted the message and tossed your phone away. He got closer to you as he whispered slowly, "All mine now.."

#jaemin smut #jeno smut #nct dream smut #nct smut #kpop smut #kpop yandere #na jaemin smut #jeno scenarios #yandere nct #jaemin scenarios #jeno imagines #tw: corruption #tw: noncon

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adventuringblind · 20 days

Text

Rock Gardens

Maxiel x Reader

Genre: Magical-Realism Fluff

Summary: Just because she's a low level earth elemental doesn't mean she's useless! Actually, she loves her rock and wishes everyone could see how she does. The media and fans have other things to say about it and Max and Daniel refuse to see their rock loving gremlin so sad.

Warnings: Toxic media, protective Max and Daniel

Notes: For 🎀, I hope you like it!!

Masterlist // Request Form // My Website // buy me a Ko-Fi

Her powers aren't something she likes to flaunt around to the media. They aren't flashy or give her some massive show of strength. They're still hers, though. She loves them, and that's all that matters.

Max and Daniel had stumbled across her when she first started working with Redbull as a data analyst. Her affinity for the ground helps her assess possible tire degradation around different circuits. When they hired her, it was the first time somebody had said her powers were useful.

Her office at the factory is decorated with all her rocks. Some she's found over the course of going to races. Others she's shaped over extended periods of time. Still, each one represents something. A testament to some event in her life.

Daniel and Max had wandered into her office for no particular reason other than a tour. Max felt is necessary to show Daniel all the changes that had gone on in the last four years. Her office being one of them.

Technically speaking - it was new to both of them. She'd never had direct contact with Max. She'd never needed to.

They ask her about them. Genuine curiosity lacing their voices. Which is odd to her, considering both if them are considerably stronger than she is. Max is a level six and a metal bender. Daniel, a seven, who plays with sound.

Then there is her. A level two who plays with rocks... it's shocking that they've taken an interest.

Regardless, they take such an interest that they keep coming back. Again, and again, and again... then they just stay. They let her build rock gardens in their apartment. They listen to her stories about each one.

It's certainly not what she was expecting. But when they lay together at night, limbs tangled up and usually giggling, she wouldn't have it any other way. She counts herself lucky.

As do the media, apparently. She should've known it would come out eventually - nothing stays a secret forever. She was just hoping that - maybe - the media would like her. That the fans wouldn't find any reason to eat her alive.

Oh, how wrong she'd been.

She wakes up to the news that their relationship has been exposed. The fans take on so nicely to Max and Daniel being together that there is a bit of relief. It's her that they don't like.

How she looks. How's she speaks. How her entire being is insignificant.

The EU's don't hold back their comments either. It's a constant stream of them saying her partners deserve someone with a stronger power.

It's ridiculous - is what she tries to convince herself. That the media portrays her as weak and useless in the realm of EU's.

The unfortunate thing is that it does get to her. It weighs on her more than she wants to admit.

Max and Daniel can see it written all over her. The way her rocks seem to be ridden with despair now and her gardens grow darker the longer she forces herself to stay away from them. The ridicule of fans calling her strange and useless.

Max and Daniel want nothing to do with those fans. In fact, the media in general has been grating on their last nerves.

The downfall of the media begins on a Thursday; media day. Max and Daniel have taken their respective spots on the press conference couch. It's been better for Max since Daniel started racing again. Makes these things less boring.

"Question to Max and Daniel: do you plan on making any changes to your relationship now that you've gone public?"

They both blink at the interviewer. Shock coursing through the veins of Daniel and Rage burning through Max's.

"The hell is that supposed to mean?"

"Are you-"

"Yeah, I heard the question! When your you people going to stop asking them?!"

Daniel throws an arm in front of Max before he can make any aggressive moves. Max settles back down in his place, huffing in frustration.

"How about you stop giving our girlfriend grief?"

The press conference ends there. Max and Daniel are feeling annoyed, but happy things might start dying down now.

Max and Daniel see them on social media the next few days. Some fans are going as far as to say she isn't worth it. It hurts them, obviously.

She also aches.

What did she do to deserve this kind of treatment? The answer is simple - it's nothing. Nobody deserves this treatment. Nobody saying these things even knows her.

The rocks in the garden stumble. They shake, and they rattle - until eventually, like most things, they fall.

"Love?" Oh, it's Daniel. The other set of footsteps is Max. She's learned them based on how the rocks shift when they step. Daniel’s are quicker where Max's are confident and long.

The middle of the track is certainly not the best place for her to be. There aren't any cars, though. Just her and the ground.

"Take it things were too much?" Max grunts as he gets on the ground with her. Daniel makes more of a huff sound.

"The media hates me. The fans hate me. Even the damn EU's hate me. My rocks don't hate me though."

"And neither do we."

Daniel chuckles. "Yeah, Maxy was ready to fist fight a journalist in your honor."

"Daniel wouldn't let me." He glares back. "So I made a post about it instead."

"PR won't be happy about it."

"So then why'd you do the same?"

It's entertaining to hear her boys banter back and forth about how they might defend her. How they refuse to let her rocks sit in sadness while people continue to berate. "My heroes."

"Yeah - nobody but us get to tease you."

She looks between the two boys on either side of her. "If it gets worse... will you-"

Daniel launches himself upright. "If try to self-depricate, I will personally reorganize your entire office."

Max chuckles when her jaw snaps shut. "Just let us defend you, schat. You may be a dork, but you're ours."

And we'll - who is she to argue with that?

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gavisuntiedboot · 1 year

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Just Pretend (Gavi x reader)

Part 1

Tinder is not a great place to look for boyfriends, but neither is the workplace.

Gavi x Physiotherapist! reader. Slow burn. I can't make things fast he's gotta work for it. Smut? Not in this part but maybe eventually.

A/N: Hi everyone! Not super new on Tumblr but I have never been brave enough to post a fic despite my constant maladaptive daydreaming about imaginary scenarios. The stress of being sick and not wanting to write my personal statement have lead me to actually write this and post it online. Please be nice, hope you enjoy!

Song inspo: Just Pretend - Bad omens

Writing inspo: Plot inspired by @zeegaazeegaah and their amazing Gavi x physiotherapist imagine. Other inspirational accounts will be tagged at the end.

TW: None

Word count: 4.8K

"So what do you do?"

y/n hated this question. Even being asked for nudes might be preferable to being asked about her job. y/n had been on 12 first dates since moving back to Barcelona, and without fail every one of them had been ruined by this simple question. She considered lying - she could pass as a student or a waitress or even a model (ok maybe not a model): there were literally thousands of jobs she could pretend to have. But, being the idiot hopeless romantic that she was, she decided to be honest with the man across from her. What if Thiago from Tinder was her soulmate? She didn't want to ruin it by lying.

"I'm finishing my sports medicine and physiotherapy certification, so I am working with one of the football clubs here to do practical training and gain experience."

"Oh that's cool! Which club? You can tell me, I know most of the 3rd and 4th tier Catalan clubs, so I'll probably know it even if it's really small."

Wow. Thiago from Tinder was an overachiever: he messed up before she even said which club she worked for, which was faster than every other man she had been out with in the last four months. y/n took a deep breath and resisted the urge to leave before confessing where she worked.

"I actually work at a pretty well known club... F.C Barca. I think you might of heard of it?" y/n watched this man's jaw visibly drop. His eyes got wide and lit up, like someone had told him he had just won a brand new car.

"You're a physio at Barca?? No way! That's my team! I think I would actually commit manslaughter if Pedri asked me to. So you get to see all the players every day? And Xavi! Have you ever spoken to Xavi? Do you know he won Spain their first world cup? You might be too young to remember. That's so amazing!"

y/n felt all the muscles in her head tense as she focused all her energy on not rolling her eyes. A fanboy. Typical. This was the most common response she got when she said her place of work out loud. 6 of the last 12 first dates had been major fanboys for the club, talking endlessly about how they would steal and kill and get on their knees for Barca. One had even been so bold as to ask if she had ever seen Lewandosky naked, to confirm if some measurements he had seen online were true. While the fans were annoying, the haters were even worse. 4 different dates had said they felt bad that she worked at a "dying club", throwing up football statistics, and going red in the face when she said she could not possibly care less about who had more Champion's League wins.

Then there were those that went out of their way to offend her. You would think that a man trying to get laid would have some more common sense. But that didn't stop one of her tinder matches from calling her a liar in the middle of a restaurant. He was still on his first glass of wine, leaning back cockily in his chair when he said that La Liga would never allow female physios to work with the first team because women couldn't "handle the intensity of football injuries." She should have gotten up and left when he said that, but he was 6'3 with a brand new Porsche, so she let him buy her dinner and drive her home before telling him that she genuinely hoped he never interacted with a female doctor ever again, even if it was to save his life.

The worst had been when she went out with Jose. He had invited her to a pretty expensive spot in central Barcelona. They were having an amazing conversation until the fated job question. She had downed a good amount of wine at that point, and wasn't as cynical about the reaction as she usually would be, so she spoke about her role with pride. Big mistake. He perked up, then threw his head back and laughed. He laughed so loudly it startled the waiter clearing plates from the nearby table. "21 years old and working as a physio for F.C Barca... Who did you have to sleep with to get that job, hm? Xavi? La Porte himself? Or maybe someone at the university? Regardless, you must fuck like a pornstar to have landed a job like that. Can't wait to try it first hand." y/n said some choice words about Jose and his micropenis, and promptly left, seeking to avoid assault charges that night.

The truth was that y/n was extremely talented at what she did. She grew up watching football with her father and brother, developing an interest in working in sports professionally. She worked herself half to death during high school to be accepted into a sports science program in the U.S. She interned with the college teams there, learning about sports injuries and treating them. She finished her program in three years, and despite programs across Europe fighting for her, she came back to Barcelona to finish her physiotherapy certification. She would be lying if she said it was just for her family and friends. The program in Barcelona advertised opportunities to work with F.C. Barca, her favorite football club since birth. It was a love she inherited from her father, as shown by all her childhood pictures in the Blaugrana uniform.

The program was harder than expected. She was one of 7 female first year students, and the only girl in her year that wanted to work with the first team. y/n was made aware that this might work to her advantage now that professional football was pushing for more female representation (in referees, coaching staff, and now on the medical team). The guys in her class either hated her guts or wanted to sleep with her (sometimes both) - it really was like legally blonde without the law.

In the middle of August, close to the beginning of the new season, all the applicants for the Barca placement were called into the university on a Sunday. Their professor introduced Dr. Gonzales, the head physiotherapist for the club. y/n started to sweat despite the air conditioning hitting her directly. She was terrified to even breathe wrong in the presence of this man.

"It's a pleasure to be here with you all today. Thank you for your hard work in submitting to fill the assistant physiotherapist position at F.C. Barcelona. Now, there have been rumors that we are hiring a student to fil this position because it is cheaper and we are broke, but I would like to assure you all now that it's not true."

The two boys in front of her snickered quietly, one whispering a "yeah right" to the other. Dr. Gonzalez looked up at the boys. "You two giggling in the back. You don't seem like the type we need at Camp Nou. You can leave now." Everyone in the room sat up straighter after that. Everyone was on military behavior, not wanting a wrong look or a chair squeak to blow their chance. "As many of you know, one of our strikers, Ousmane Dembélé, presents with consistent right hamstring tightness, leading to frequent injuries."

As Dr. Gonzalez turned to face the screen, y/n found enough bravery to pull out a pen and paper to take notes. The doctor continued to describe the player's condition, his playing style, and the current course of treatment being used. After speaking for 25 minutes (while facing the screen instead of the students), he turned around and addressed them. "Your project is to develop a continuous muscular therapy treatment for Dembélé in the next two days. The best and most cost effective method gets the job placement. You at the back," he pointed at y/n, "Smart choice to take notes. I advise you not to share."

Y/n drove home that evening checking her rear-view mirror every few seconds. The possibility of being followed by one of her classmates so they could steal her notes was low, but never zero, and so she did both of the locks tightly on the door. She sat at her computer and got to work right away. Truth be told, she felt like the whole assignment was kind of a trick. Dr. Gonzalez had told them the current treatment plan for Dembélé, which had obviously been working seeing as they kept using it. She made a few adjustments based on leg dominance and the anticipated excess strain of playing more minutes each game, and then she decided to facetime her friend Angelika while she made the PowerPoint look pretty.

"Good evening Dr. y/l/n, finally ready to ask for my hand in marriage? My parents always wanted me to marry into medicine." y/n rolled her eyes and smirked. She had met Angelika when she was living in the US through a Facebook group for Spanish students studying abroad. Ever since then, not a day had gone by where they hadn't spoken (except once when Angelika had dropped her phone into a pint of beer and couldn't get it fixed for three days).

"You know I'm ready when you are gorgeous, just send your ring size. What're you up to?"

"Nothing much, just scrolling on the internet trying to find clubs that are no cover for ladies tomorrow. You're still coming out with us right?" y/n looked away from her computer and looked at Angelika with the "I'm about to bail on plans look" that was all too familiar. "Y/n!! You cannot be cancelling plans with us again! You haven't been anywhere except your house and the university in like six weeks! People will start to think you're with child and in hiding."

"I didn't know I was the new virgin Mary." y/n quipped, trying to make her presentation equally professional and cute. "You're not, because that would require you being a virgin. I know it feels like it's growing back because you haven't looked in the direction of a man in centuries." y/n could only shake her head. It was not a lack of trying. "Well, I'm presenting to the Barca head physio Wednesday morning, so if you ever want a chance at seeing the inside of that locker room, you need to let me skip out on tomorrow."

Angelika sighed and threw herself on the bed dramatically. "Fine, but you need to be our DD and come pick us up after. Shockingly, it's really hard to order an Uber while drunk." y/n agreed to pick the girls up from the club at the end of the night, an spent the rest of the evening chatting idlily with her friend, living vicariously through the stories she told.

The following day, y/n spent all morning refining her presentation. She spent over an hour watching videos about the Barca training facility to see if there was any equipment she had overlooked in creating her treatment plan. The day progressed as normal - cleaning, cooking, practicing her presentation, watching TV on the couch. As 1am rolled around, she still hadn't received any communication from Angelika. While she was not an inconsiderate person, Angelika did have her moments where she would completely forget about the world around her: that was when she met a man who showed interest in her. Despite being gorgeous and intelligent, Angelika, like most girls in their early twenties, suffered from a condition known as "Nothing is true about me unless an attractive man says it". y/n also suffered (mildly) from this affliction, but being surrounded by weirdos all day in university had helped substantially. She knew that if she did not leave then, she would never get any sleep, and so she grabbed her car keys and headed to the address of the club that she had been sent earlier on.

She parked several blocks away from the club, and called Angelika for a record 41st time. y/n knew she wasn't going to receive an answer, so she changed into a tight satin top and a pair of heels that she always left in her car in case of emergencies (What if Joao Felix decided to take a random trip to Barcelona and she was unprepared?). She could feel the street practically vibrating beneath her as she walked towards the club. She was let in easily - it was a Tuesday night and the establishment needed female patrons. She kept close to the bar, and asked the girls working there if they had seen her friend. Once y/n pulled up a picture of Angelika, the girls laughed to one another.

"Oh yeah, she's up in the VIP section. They've dropped like 6k on bottle service already."

y/n felt the vein in her forehead start to pop out. Of course Angelika had found herself a man that would take her to the part of the club that was the hardest to get into. Especially on the night when y/n really needed to get home. Because why wouldn't that happen? She made her way over to the VIP section, where she was promptly stopped by two large bouncers, who obviously didn't believe that she just wanted to grab her friend. While standing there deciding whether she should just make Angelika order an Uber (or have this new lover order one for her), she was tapped on the shoulder. She turned around and was met by a very attractive man (boy? His age was hard to determine in the dark).

"Hey, do you need to get into VIP? Are you here alone? " "That's a really creepy question to ask a girl in a club." y/n yelled back over the thumping music. What were all these people doing out on a Tuesday? "No not like that. I can help you get in if you want." "I don't really want to get in, I just want to get my friend and leave." The man (boy?)'s eyes lit up. "Perfect! My tea- friend. My friend that I'm with is pretty drunk and the person that drove us is in VIP. I can't leave him by himself because he's kind of rowdy even when sober. Could you watch him while I go grab them?"

y/n didn't want to look too deeply into a good thing, but the offer felt suspicious. She scanned the boy (she had decided that he was young), looking for any indication that he could live up to his end of the bargain. She looked down at his feet, noticing the white Alexander McQueen sneakers. She decided that she could trust him, and if not, she was still in a public place, and someone would notice if she was being dragged out of a club kicking and screaming. She walked over to where the friend was and had to stifle a laugh. Another boy was sprawled across two high bar chairs, legs up and head rolled back. He was wearing a pair of Louis Vuitton sunglasses despite it being the middle of the night and them being indoors. His white button up had the first two undone and the collar popped, like he was Pitbull in 2011. He was in a pair skinny jeans (because, as y/n discovered quickly, everyone in the world had moved on from skinny jeans except for Spanish men) and some white Dolce and Gabanna sneakers. Where were these kids getting all this money?

"Pablo! Look who I brought you! This is..." The first boy looked back at you expectantly. "y/n". "y/n! She's really great and going to take care of you while I go get Pepi so we can go home." The drunk one (now Identified as Pablo) lifted his head, and tilted the sunglasses just enough to get a good look at the girl. "Wow Angel, nice job." The first one (Angel apparently) apologized to y/n, explaining that Pablo was a "really flirty drunk" but that he was never like this sober. y/n showed Angel a picture of Angelika, and off he went back into the beast that was the club. y/n stood awkwardly by Pablo, who appeared to have fallen asleep. Suddenly, he sprung up and asked her, "so what is a pretty girl like you doing in the club by herself?"

"I'm not here to go clubbing, just picking up a friend." "You're dressed like you're going clubbing." "Right, because they wouldn't let me into the club in my scrubs." "Scrubs? You look too young to be a doctor." The music was starting to take a toll on y/n, the thumping rhythm giving her a splitting headache. "You don't look old enough to be let into the club, but everyone is full of surprises." Pablo did not take this comment well. He stood up, feeling all the blood rush to his head as he rested his weight against the bar. He pushed his glasses up his head, and looked straight at her.

This was the first opportunity y/n had to admire how gorgeous Pablo was. The glasses pushed his hair back on his head, showing off his striking eyebrows and cheekbones. His eyes were wide and glassy, making him look like a teenager who had gotten drunk for the first time. For all y/n knew, that could be the case. His nose slopped downward, a subtle bump in the bridge like it had been broken before and reset. His discontent made his bottom lip poke out, and y/n suddenly was overwhelmed by the urge to treat him like a child: make him feel better with a kiss. "I'm 18, and this isn't even my first time in a club. You want to see my ID?" Pablo had gotten much closer to her than she had expected. In her 4 inch heels, y/n was looking him straight in the eyes. He was mere inches away from her face, cheeks flushed from the alcohol and the anger of being called a child. She couldn't stop her gaze from flipping between his eyes to his pouting lips. 'This is normal,' she thought to herself. 'I'm overwhelmed because no man has been this close to me in a while. Even if my scumbag cheating ex was standing this close I would want to kiss him. I am simply in desperate need of affection.'

This internal monologue ended just as another club patron bumped into Pablo, causing him to lose balance. He put his arms around y/n and rested weight against her, head pressed into her shoulder. "I feel like dying. I shouldn't have drank that much." He muttered. She just held him there, scared that he would hit the floor if she shifted. "Then why did you keep drinking?" She asked. It couldn't hurt - in the state he was in, she would be surprised if he even remembered his name in the morning. "So my brain would be a little quieter." y/n's heart ached at the statement. However old the boy in her arms was, he was being burdened by something far beyond his age.

Before she could ask anything else, she was tapped on the shoulder by Angel, who signaled for her to follow out of the club. She put one of Pablo's arms around her neck and began shuffling through the crowd. Once they left the club, Pablo quickly separated from her to throw up on the side of the street. "At least he waited until he was off of you to do that," a male voice echoed from behind her. y/n turned around to see Angelika clinging to a tall brunet. "Thank you so much for carrying her out. I think I can take it from here." y/n said, trying to get Angelika to remove herself from the nice man. "It's ok, I can walk her to your car. It might be easier than you carrying her." y/n smiled apologetically, and turned around to the sound of Pablo continuing to wretch his guts out. She ran over to make sure he wasn't puking blood and didn't need medical attention. "Come on Pablo let's go." Angel said from the curb. "No no, don't rush him. Let him get it all out before he gets into my car. Otherwise he'll have to start taking the city bus to matches." y/n looked up at the new voice. He walked up and stood by Angel, glancing at his phone before looking up at his friend and the girl making sure he didn't die. "Thanks for looking after him. I hope he wasn't too bad, he's a tag aggressive." y/n stood there speechless. The man thanking her for taking care of his drunk friend was none other than Pedri Gonzalez, one of the young stars of F.C. Barca. He was an absolute magician with the ball, and quickly becoming a favorite in y/n's household. She wanted to let out a scream: jump up and down and tell him that she was a huge fan and ask for a picture. But she had her presentation tomorrow. The last thing she needed was to make a bad impression on the player by causing a scene. So she took a deep breath and insisted that it was no problem.

Pablo had finished puking out his guts by that point and stood up straight, gripping his head from the dizziness. "Alright hermano, time to go." Pedri said, turning his back to y/n, Angelika, and the main carrying her. "Wait." Pablo said rummaging through his pocket. He pulled out his wallet, and clumsily pulled a card from it. He turned to y/n and grabbed her shoulder, pulling her close to him. There were shouts from his friends to stop whatever he was doing, but nothing was registering in his liquor-filled brain. "y/n think's I'm a little kid, so I just wanted to show her my ID." y/n shifted her gaze from his deep eyes to the card in his hand. She didn't look at the age. She didn't have to. Her eyes landed on the name: Pablo Martín Páez Gavira. One of the best young football players in the world had just used her as a banister. "Now that you know I'm not a kid, next time, you should let me buy you a drink." Pablo said, pushing a strand of hair from y/n's face before walking (wobbling) back to his friends.

y/n could not process everything going on in her head at that moment. She turned around and faced the man holding a half-asleep Angelika. "You don't play for Barca do you?" She asked, half joking and half fearful. "No. I play for Real Sociedad. I'm Martin." "Zubimendi??" "Yeah." This was too much. y/n, 7 hours before the most important presentation of her life, was surrounded by so much football royalty it made her dizzy. Martin looked like he was going to say something else, but y/n put her finger to her lips and shushed him. "Please, not another word. Just bring her to the car."

They walked silently to y/n's tiny car, Martin helping to carefully place Angelika in the back seat. "So are you the guy she was with while ignoring my calls?" "Oh no, that was my teammate Ander. He was also kind of out of it so I offered to help her out." "Why is everyone getting drunk out of their minds on a random Tuesday in August?" y/n said in frustration, causing a laugh to erupt from Martin. "It's the last week before training for the new season starts. Not a lot of opportunities to black out after this. People like to take advantage." y/n thanked Martin and got into the driver's seat. He stopped her before she drove off. "Do you think I could maybe get your number? Just to make sure you get home safe?" y/n rolled her eyes at the lame excuse for a pick-up tactic, but surrendered her phone number anyway. She drove back to her apartment with her head reeling, as she tried to rehearse her speech in her head instead of thinking of the events of the night.

The next day, y/n looked perfect. She had work her best school-approved scrubs and coat. and slicked her hair back to make her look more professional. She was in her business attire Nikes. Her note cards were neatly written and organized. She sat in the lecture hall waiting to be called on. The students would be presenting in random order. As all the student filled in to present, the tension was palpable. Everyone side-eyed each other, trying to intimidate the "competition". The door swung open and in walked the professor, as well as Dr. Gonzalez. He stood at the front podium, stern as ever, and began to speak.

"Good morning students. Thank you all for the effort you have put into the presentations you will share today. We look forward to all you assessments and insights. As the new season quickly approaches, we want the new assistant to become acclimated to the workplace quickly. Therefore, the decision about the position will be made today following the presentation." The entire room stopped breathing. "In order to do so efficiently, please welcome our other guests and evaluators, Mr. Xavi Hernandez and Mr. Ousmane Dembélé." The pair walked in, and the room engaged in the most "I wish I was dead" sounding clapping known to man. y/n started sweating profusely. If she had known that Xavi and Dembélé were going to be watching her presentation, she would have made Angelika take the Uber. Hell, she would have made her ride a Donkey back home and gotten a full night's sleep.

Dr. Gonzalez drew names for the order, and because y/n has the worst luck, she was presenting last. She did what she does best: panicked immediately. She tried to think of ways to present the information differently than the 6 students before her had. As she listened to the presentations, the more nervous she got. None of the other students had treatment plans remotely similar to hers. Antonio, one of the smartest in their batch and the presenter right before her, even suggested he get surgery.

It was time. y/n stood up at the front of the room and pulled out her slides. "Good morning everyone. Today I will be presenting my comprehensive treatment plan for player Ousmane Dembélé's right hamstring." She got through the whole thing without stuttering or having her knees give out. As she finished her last slide, she let out a sigh of relief. The hard part was over. She asked if their were questions and Xavi's hand went up. "So Miss y/n, the treatment plan presented is very similar to the one we have currently implemented, with a couple changes in training and every day life. What is the anticipated recovery time for this treatment?" Everyone else in the class had said 8-12 months. But no - of course y/n had to be differently. "6 weeks sir." "6 weeks? No one else has given a suggestion that would take less than half a year." "Yes sir, however, if you take into account the availability of daily therapy, cryotherapy, and the current play style and strain distribution, he can be on the field in 6 weeks. He might not be comfortable playing all 90 minutes each game, but that's not the same as being completely out for injury." Xavi nodded and said nothing more. That was the end of the questioning.

It took them 8 minutes exactly to decide who go the job. Dr. Gonzalez, Xavi, and Dembélé came back into the room, thanking everyone again for their hard work. "We are please to announce," Xavi started, "that we will be offering the assistant physiotherapist position for the 2022/2023 season to," he turned to Dembélé, who finished the thought, "Miss y/n y/l/n." All the men in the room turned to face y/n at once as she struggled to breathe from the shock. "We look forward to having you this season."

And that's how it happened. y/n was now the assistant physiotherapist for the first team at F.C. Barcelona during the day, and entertainment for the absolute worst men in Spain in the evenings. She left her disappointing first date with a headache and leftovers, and drove home listening to her "Maybe Love is a Social Construct" playlist. As she walked into her apartment, her phone chimed with a text notification. She let her hair down and grabbed her phone, preparing to update Angelika about the latest in the tragedy that was her love life. Instead, she had two separate text notifications.

[Unknown number]: Hey, is this still y/n's number?

[Gavi]: I need to see you urgently. Tomorrow morning 6:30 am. I'll be waiting outside your office.

To be continued...

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

If you got this far, thanks for reading! I have had this idea for a long time and have been writing snippets of it down. I will continue to update whenever I can, as this really is a passion project for me (so it's ok if no one reads it).

GIF credit to @gavidaily

Huge thanks to the following for heavily inspiring me to start writing this on the internet: @missgavi @kyiiansmbappe @julianalvarez9 @milawritesstuff @leeamorgan (there are a couple others I'm forgetting)

#pablo gavi x reader #gavi x reader #pablo gavi #gavi #fc barca #footballer #imagine #barca #gavi x you #footballer imagine

731 notes · View notes

the-odd-devil · 1 year

Text

Gods and Good Boys

Homelander x f!reader

Summary : You know something is wrong, a simple image management employee has nothing to do in this fancy lounge at the highest of Vought tower. When Homelander enters the room with a satisfied smile, you know you’re fucked. The rumors you've heard about him and his constant presence at your office do nothing to help get him out of your head but will certainly help you get out of this situation, or maybe make it worse.

Word Count : 4 042

Warnings : !!! minors DNI !!!, non-con/dub-con, sexual harassment, canon-typical violence, blood, death, smut, mommy kink, degrading, sub!Homelander, dom!reader (let me know if I forgot any)

Author's Note : So first fic eh? More specifically, it’s the first time I've written fanfiction in English, but I loved it so much! Much more than my native language for some reason? Anyway I had the best time ever writing Homelander, he is so fun to write (even more when he’s a sub oops), hope you will have fun reading it too!

But before the Big Boy™ I want to give a big big BIG thank you to @mietkoz and @finniestoncrane for proofreading the fic and being sweethearts, they really hyped me up and makes me want to write more! <3 Another big big BIG thank you to @spicedchaiandromeda and @just-call-me-angel who inspired me a lot to write and were so nice to me <3

Hope you’ll like it!

This whole thing was weird as fuck. Two people, who you immediately guessed that they were a lot more important than you, had brought you and this other Vought employee, in this fancy lounge decorated with expensive stuff. The price of the furniture did nothing to make the room more appealing, it felt empty and cold. They left you and the other girl in the middle of it. While looking at each other, you remembered seeing her at some office inside the tower, her name being Grace and being in a similar post as you at Vought, she was in a high level of stress, picking her nails and looking generally concerned about why you were here. Honestly, you were concerned too, random office workers at Vought have nothing to do at the highest of the tower, but your mind was empty, not knowing what to expect.

You hear clicking heels coming to the door from the hallway and soon Ashley is standing right in front of both of you, a fake and uptight smile on her lips and an all too much joyful tone.

“So, I suppose you know why you’re here!”

You and the other girl look at each other with a questioning expression before looking back at Ashley.

“You’re gonna have an interview with Homelander!” she said while doing a little forced cheering movement.

Ah yes, Homelander. You’ve seen him more than once in the office area explaining to employees what they have to do and sticking his nose in other people’s business. With his fake smile and false sympathy. You know and everyone knows that he’s close to a no return point at every second, ready to turn the room into ashes. What you really think about the fucker is another story tho. You first didn’t think much about him, in your department, the supes are more of a product than anything, you don’t really see them as a person anymore, even more when you’re the one who has to cover their “mistakes”, if killing innocents can be considered as a mistake. You prefer not to think about him in particular, even if you know only the surface level about what he’d done, aka, what you have to deal with and then dilute for the press ; seeing him in person, close to you, looking at you, is totally different. He did nothing that would be considered “abnormal”, at least, for him, in the office. He tries to play it cool, be the nice guy, but his sudden voice bursts betray him.

What really scares you is what he makes you feel. Things that you prefer ignoring. He undressed you with his eyes or made prolonged eye contact more than once and you couldn’t refrain from the heat that you felt. The asshole had a really pretty face and a shark smile, the way his expressions distort oscillating between rage, pure distress and complete emptiness made you imagine how you could completely break him with just a few sentences and how he could annihilate you in a blink of an eye. The thoughts of you possibly dominating this god-like figure have kept you awake more than once.

“Did we do something wrong?” Grace says timidly, you could hear how anxious she was.

“Oh no no no! He just wants a new “assistant” and asked me if he could see you in private.” you could hear the fake enthusiasm and the quotation marks in Ashley’s tone.

The word “assistant”, isn’t a good omen for where this situation is going, you know how perverted Homelander, and the vast majority of the supes are, and you’re thinking that being fired isn’t that horrible after all.

“Anyway! Try to make a good impression!” Ashley says before making her way to the door.

“Wait? You’re gonna let us here??” your voice makes you suddenly aware how much you were panicking.

“Yes? I’m not the one choosing.” she says, a frown across her face before finally leaving.

And there you are, Grace and you standing in the middle of this Vought’s lounge, clearly design for la crème de la crème of those who enters the tower, not knowing what the fuck is gonna happen when Homelander is going to join you.

He probably was waiting for Ashley to inform him that you were here because he arrived shortly after she left, you even suspect him of waiting next to the room and most certainly watching and listening since you were here. He enters the room and closes the door, placing the key on one of the tables next to the couch before putting his hands behind his back, a pleased smile on his face and places himself in front of both of you, making direct eye contact with Grace and then with you. Grace instantly looked away but you couldn’t stop looking in his icy blue eyes. It feels like the eye contact is during an eternity, none of you looking away. He breaks the contact when he is starting to speak after clapping once in his hands, making Grace and you jump.

“So, what did Ashley tell you?”

You were growing more and more confuse with this whole situation, what the fuck does he want?

“Come on girls! Speak!” he says, elevating his voice and clapping his hands. There it is, his constant struggle at keeping his calm. Grace was mortified and you answer Homelander, hesitation visible in your face and voice :

“She told us about an assistant thing…”

“Oh yeah… You know, days are a little bit boring sometimes…”

You look at him while he starts pacing in the room, getting closer to you and Grace. When he’s close enough, he starts petting Grace's hair like a dog and turns his head to look at your side. You could feel his warm breath on your cheek, too afraid to turn your head and look at him in the eyes when he is this close to you. He withdraws his hand from Grace’s hair to start stroking your cheek instead.

“I just can’t decide which one of you I’m going to fuck on a daily basis.”

You can see his fucking smile in your peripheral vision, well aware of the power his holding on the situation. Your breath is stuck in your throat, your vision is starting to blur, your blood runs cold, you feel like your soul just left your body and you’re not able to move anymore. You're out of your paralyzed state when you see and hear Grace running to the door and starting pulling on it in panic, unable to unlock it. You watch the action with eyes wide open, panicking more and more but unable to move or react, knowing too well that this situation is about to get worse. You know Homelander too much to know that showing him signs of resilience is a very very bad idea. He grabs your chin so hard that it hurts you, turning your head in order that you face him again. His eyes are closed and he lightly shakes his head, he seems disappointed as if a little kid just did something wrong and he’s about to reprimand them. Grace is still trying to open the door in panic and starts to cry some “please!”, “let me go!”, “please”, Homelander just turns his head looking at her with some disappointment, still holding you before melting her head with his laser eyes.

Her body falls to the ground, headless. You contain the screams who are holding in your throat, so much that your body begins to contract. Your eyes are burning, holding tears in a terrorized expression. Homelander turns his face, having a sweet forced smile, looking at you like he was proud of you being an obedient girl who listens to him. You feel sick. He hums, approaching his face even more, you could feel the vibration in his throat.

“I guess it means that you’re the one I choose.

SO!”

The fact that his expression is changing once more, so rapidly into something completely different, has always scares you, today, more than anything. You don’t know what to expect next. His now happy and calm expression and the fact he starts pacing again in the room only calms you slightly, leaving you some time to think of what to do next.

He ends up facing you, a few feet away, his smile still on his face. It is the kind of smile you know is pacific, that nothing will happen to you if you do right. It is comforting in some way. Some agonizing seconds pass, before he finally says something.

“What are you waiting for? Show me.”

You didn’t expect that. Not the abrupt demand but the tone of his voice. Very deep and low, vibrating through your core. All the deep, filthy feelings you have for him are coming back to the surface. His fucking gaze, looking right through you with lust and envy, his satisfied smile who knows he can have everything he wants. You’ve noticed every time he passes by your office. You were sure you were imagining things, you are now certain that everything he did was on purpose. This wasn’t a wet dream anymore. Homelander was here, waiting for you to make the first move, if you didn’t, you'd end up like Grace whose blood was spreading across the fancy carpet of the lounge.

You compose yourself, sniffing the results of the tears in your eyes, trying to make the feeling you had when you saw him at your office fully resurface.

He often went into the offices of your department, putting his nose in everything. You thrived on the view every time. Even knowing everything he’s done, you couldn’t stop looking at him. Not only do you find him beautiful, but when he comes to your floor he always has his worried puppy face. He seems so sad and anxious wanting to know if the public still loves him, seeing him in this state makes you hot all over.

One day, he ends up noticing your glances, you can only also guess that your expression said a lot more than you wished, and till that day he began visiting your desk every time he came down here.

It was mostly light teasing, and you understand now, flirting. You thought he didn’t mean much until today. It seems that he finds making people uncomfortable funny. You would have never guessed it meant anything. You were always flustered nonetheless.

Most of the time, he exaggeratedly bent next to you to watch your computer screen, his mouth ending up to be impossibly close to your ear, where he whispered saying some uninteresting shit about what’s on the screen, most of the time, he didn’t even know what he saw meant, and you didn't really listened to him anyway, his low and deep voice reverberating down to your core. You remember your mind spiraling and only being able to concentrate on the wetness in your panties. Sometimes in the blur of his sayings, you could recall him calling you pretty, or lightly degrading you, it only made you spiral even more.

Being in the break room instead of your desk didn't stop him from harassing you, or whispering in your ear. He looked at you like a prey, you were his prey everytime he went to the office. You should have called sexual harassment. You didn’t. You know it wouldn’t change anything, you thought he was like that with everyone. Even one of your colleagues suggested it. She knew damn well that there is absolutely no point of doing that.

You usually just didn't respond to him, just getting more and more red and wet, sometimes swallowing and letting out a breath you didn't know you were holding. Except the last time he came to see you in the break room.

It started like usual, the usual being him spotting you in the break room and immediately entering and sticking to you, pressing his torso against your back and his lips against your ear. You could see and feel his hand every time, hesitating to go on your hips. He began whispering in your ear, a lot nicer than all the other times, things like “you’re so pretty today”, “let me buy you another coffee”, “we can go to a calmer place if you want”... You were already red and wet from the few sentences and his proximity. When he bent over to take a hot chocolate your breath stopped. You could feel him already getting hard on your ass.

He took his drink and went to sit on the break room table. You couldn’t help but watch him across the room. He was delighted seeing your red face and your look filled with lust and shame.

He slapped on his thigh two times, calling you like a child :

“Come sit with me.”

You took the closest seat to him, hypnotized, incapable of thinking or saying anything. Your cup of coffee was trembling in your hand. Attentively, you watched him take a mouthful of his chocolate milk. He took so much milk so rapidly that some was left on the corner of his mouth.

The satisfied look on his face and his unusually soft smile made you lose your mind. You didn’t even had time to realize what you were doing, that your hand was already cupping his cheek and your thumb was gently whipping off the cream on his face.

His surprised look was rapidly replaced by a look of pure bliss, his head leaning on your hand, his eyes closing and his mouth slightly opening while he exhaled a long breath. You couldn’t recall if you had an orgasm right then, seeing him so submissive in the palm on your hand ; an electric shock went through your body, you feel like you blacked out and next thing you know you were splashing cold water on your face in the closest bathroom, hyperventilating. You could see your mascara running on your cheeks, asking yourself how you were gonna explain your current state to your colleagues.

You don’t remember the rest of this day, but you remember him, staying in the break room, his hand caressing where yours was, watching you leave with puppy eyes, his puppy eyes that were the only thing you could think of the following days. You remember thinking of the rumor. The rumor that made you so horny you had to excuse yourself to the bathroom. The one about Homelander you’ve heard the first month you’ve been working in Vought : about how particular his relationship with Madelyn Stillwell, the ex-Senior Vice President of Hero Management, was. You remember finishing on your toy that night, this idea and what happened leaving your mind running free.

You know what to do, you know what he wants. There is no other choice, you’ll give it to him while refusing to admit to yourself that you want it too.

He is in front of you, a small smirk on his lips, challenging you. You feel like a deer catched in headlights feeling so small in front of him standing straight up and looking down on you. You take a few seconds composing yourself, taking a deep breath. You know exactly what he wants and you were going to give it to him. His expression changes as he sees you fake confidence, questioning but still challenging; you look at him through your lashes, a devious smile on your lips. You took a few steps until you were facing him, close enough to hear his breathing speeding a bit.

You bring slowly your hand to his cheek, locking your eyes on his face, trying your best to look both sweet and flirty. Your heart skips a beat, your breath shaking slightly. You feel like your body is on autopilot while there is a storm in your mind. His eyes are following the action, eager for some contact. Once your hand is cupping his cheek, you start to stroke lightly with your thumb. Homelander directly melts into your touch, leaning into your hand ,closing his eyes and slightly opening his mouth, bliss and release across his face. He let out a deep breath while relaxing into your hold, he was looking like an asleep kitten, almost purring in your hand. You try to keep your composure, feeling your stomach dropping at the sight of this god-like being turning into putty to your touch, making you feel so powerful. Your confidence level being higher seeing his soft expression, you decided to lean more into the situation. You approach him till your mouth is the closest possible to his ear.

“You really need someone to take care of you mh?”

The shaky whimper he let out makes you tremble. Even knowing the rumors, and witnessing a glimpse of it before, being in first line, and being the one who made him whimper makes you weak and you could already feel yourself getting wet. You continue stroking his cheek, drinking in his reactions. You’ve always liked how expressive he is, the tiny movement of his face while he is losing himself in pleasure sends you into a loop as you whisper again in his ear :

“You look so lonely… Poor boy… Don’t worry, mommy’s gonna take care of you.”

You put your other hand in his blond hair, feeling them on your fingers and appreciating how soft they are. You’re totally losing yourself now, hypnotized by his trembling, almost whining voice :

“Yes! Yes please…”

Any sense of logic leaves your mind as you hear his voice, lust now controlling you. You move your hand to put his chin in your palm and start tracing his lips with your thumb, his mouth opening in a silent moan. You can’t help putting your finger in his mouth. He immediately closes it and starts sucking on your thumb. You don’t control the little moan escaping your mouth, making him moan too, unable to restrain. You start to unconsciously rube your thighs, eager for some contact and relief. Your eyes leave his face and meet his crotch, his dick hard. Your pussy throbbing at the sight and size. Homelander is still lost in the moment, punctuating his sucking with little moans who make you weak.

You can’t resist touching his dick anymore and took your hand out of his face, leaving his mouth empty making him whine at the loss.

“You’re so eager… Mh? Pretty boy…”

You finish your sentence with your hand ghosting over him, feeling his length, making him groan at both your praise and the feather-like touch before thrusting his hips to fully meet you. You tut and shake your head :

“You’re really disappointing mommy, baby…”

Punctuating your sentence with a sad pout. You see his face contracting and looking up, while he moves back his body, as he concentrates to obey you.

“That’s my good boy.”

His focused face stretches into a proud smile, still looking up, scared that looking at you will make him lose control.

You smile too, satisfied and shocked by how well you can make him obey you. You apply more pressure, stroking him as you see his expressions tighten. He is trying so hard to keep composure, you don’t know if you will be able to contain yourself too, his almost pained face making you feel closer and closer even if he still hasn't touched you, hands in fist at his sides, waiting for an order to start touching you .

You suddenly cut off all contact, Homelander making the saddest and most pathetic whine at the loss, lowering his head to look in your eyes, wanting to know what he did wrong.

“What’s wrong baby?”

Another whine escapes his mouth, urging you to touch him again. You lock eyes, look and voice assertive :

“Get on that couch.”

He doesn’t think twice and sits on the couch next to you, his eyes are glossy, filled with lust as he looks at you like a puppy waiting for approbation after doing a trick.

“Come on, lay down.”

He does as you say, you can hear his heavy breath as he waits for more. You approach him like a predator, and sit on his lap, he whimpers at the contact of your pussy, feeling both of your wetness on his costume. You start moving your hips languidly, making him groan. You want more friction, to start moving quicker, you’ve been waiting for some form of release for so long ; but you’re determined to watch him completely lose himself beneath you.

You continue your agonizing movements (for both of you), the room starting to echo both of your moans. You’re very glad that this lounge has one-way windows, but you doubt the fine glass will be enough to muffle both of your screams. You don’t really care at this point though, the gossip that may happen in the tower being insignificant over the power and the pleasure you are feeling in this instant. Plus, everybody will know anyway considering Homelander reputation, and, oh yeah, the dead body still emptying itself from his blood next to you, but who you totally forgot, your mind clearly elsewhere.

Your head tossed backward, eyes closed, the sweet moans of Homelander starting to sound more and more demanding, the friction of the his dick on your clothed and wet mount making you lose control, you almost jump when you feel his hands grabbing your waist using his superhuman force to make you move quicker.

“Did I allow you to touch me?”

Your strict voice makes him stop all movement. He closes his mouth and rapidly shakes his head, hands still on your waist. You furrow your brows harder making him quickly withdraw his hand. You pick back up your previous pace, making him open his mouth again.

“I thought you were mommy’s good boy… Seems like you’re just a dumb slut…”

The whine he lets out is louder than any of the preceding ones, making a deep, sadistic smile grow on your lips and your hips moving faster. You can feel your climax being closer and closer, finally getting some relief.

“You can touch mommy now…”

You say at the same time a moan escapes your lips. He places both of his hands on the top of your hips, following your movement as he catches the rhythm with his.

“You’re such a pretty slut, doing what mommy says.”

His moans are louder at every degradation and praise.

Your climax coming closer and closer as you can feel his, you start muttering incoherent degrading praises making him moan and buckle his hips at each one of them. Your movements begin to be uncoordinated as you can feel your orgasm arriving with full force, as Homelander’s are becoming more and more brutal. In a final thrust, you feel his dick twitch and release in his costume as you continue riding him pursuing your own high, making him whine at the over stimulation. Your orgasm follows quickly after, a wave of pleasure you’ve never felt before spreading all over your body, making your eyes rolling and watering and your body uncontrollably shivering.

You fall down to his chest, both of you catching your breath. Once your heart is catching an almost normal beating, you lift your head and give him a soft and chaste kiss on his cheek.

“You did great.”

Before leaving him completely spent on the couch, still catching his breath, a wet spot on his crotch. You smile to yourself seeing him in this disheveled state, making a mental image for future nights by yourself.You take the key on the small table and pull down your skirt while walking to the door, hoping that it will be long enough to cover how wet the top of your legs are. You give one more look at the decapitated body of Grace, trying not to step on the blood, before opening the door and leaving the lounge and going to the bathroom, and then leave the tower, your mind still not recording what happened nor trying to figure out what all of that means for the future.

#homelander #homelander x reader #homelander x you #homelander x y/n #homelander smut #the boys #anthony starr #homelander x f!reader #homelander x fem!reader

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velvetcloxds · 2 months

Text

GONE | E.M.

word count: 1.5k

warnings: written before the inspo guy totally ruined this concept for me, how very fitting the first title was inspired by that song

summary: your dad made it clear you and eddie weren't allowed to even see each other, let alone talk to each other, eddie takes the risk to come and surprise you on valentines day

previous parts: linger | fleeting

You were frustrated to be at work, it was odd being at another building while someone else was trying to use your system and clear a mess you’d already tried to clean only to be taken away from it before it was done. You got constant calls from your dad, questions which prompted you to drop everything and solve their problems even while not there. More than anything you were back to the realization that this job absolutely sucked, Eddie had been enough of a distraction to help you forget all of that. Your dad declared a strictly no communication order between you and Eddie, he’d found him with a hand on your shoulder, leaning over you to check the booking list and it was like all the little puzzle pieces fell into place and he realized the two of you were actually not just good at working together.

In a perfect world, you’d riot, and rebel against the notion but you knew better, you weren’t supposed to get close to Eddie in the first place, to anyone who works with or for your parents. It made total sense, you knew as much, he reminded you about how being his daughter meant that you weren’t just a girl working with a boy your age and being too friendly about it, you were creating a weakness in the business, and it might seem all nice and dandy for the time being, but people change, motives change.

It was engrained in your head to consider the family, protect the brand, the name, you’d never even looked at any of the other workers too friendly for that very reason, but Eddie snuck up on you. He made you feel your age, made you feel like just a girl who got a crush on a boy who was sweet to her despite herself and what started as you being sure he was just a friend, there was now a little ache in your heart that made you realize it definitely wasn’t the case. With Eddie you felt normal, just a girl, not your parents’ keeper, not the household emotional manager, just a girl who could smile at a boy and shrink instantly when he smiled back at you.

So, you’d survived a week without him, and all the emotions he’d managed to stir up in you and made it all the way to Valentine's Day, a horrendous day in a normal year, an absolute nightmare when your heart felt like it was in mourning. You’d still put on your pretty red dress and put some fresh flowers in your hair and did your makeup all pretty, only now it was only the cleaners and the guests and the little birds that stopped by at lunch that got to see it- not your guy, your Eddie. You had to delete his number just to stop yourself from talking to him, remind yourself to act casually whenever your phone chimed and you thought just maybe he was talking to you instead, had to keep a hand on your leg to stop it from jumping up and down. It got to the point where you were happy to be called to the basement to check on some sort of water leak, at least you wouldn’t have to think about him anymore.

It didn’t help, the road was there too long, you got to thinking about what he’d tell you if he was there, if he’d have been a little cuter on such a day, if he’d already found himself a cute girl to spend the day with instead, wondered if he’d seen your love day post on someone else’s phone.

“Careful,” you thought you’d reached peak desperation when you heard his voice, but your mind wasn’t actually playing tricks on you, because it was actually him who moved you out of harm’s way, one hand on your elbow pulling you from a bunch of paint cans, the other holding onto a single red rose. “What, I leave you alone for one week and you succumb to your terrible ways?” he didn’t make much of a show about handing you the flower, shrugged when your eyes met, and smiled when you sniffed it.

“Eddie,” you wanted to thank him actually, told him how glad you were to see him, wonder out loud if he missed you at all as much as you missed him. “What are you doing here?” his face fell, you didn’t mean for it to, but if someone saw him here, saw him with you, if it got back to your dad your next move would be right out of a job. “If my dad-“

“I know, I know,” he shrugged again, you didn’t like it, he wasn’t wearing his smile nearly as well as he used to, it wasn’t nearly as genuine. “Look, consider it a platonic, strictly professional visit.” Liar. He pulled something from his back pocket, pages folded in half, completely skewed, somehow a perfect representation of him. “I just had to drop off some paperwork for you,” when he opened it you nearly swallowed your tongue, it was one of your short stories, his handwriting in the margins, a bright yellow highlighter used to highlight some parts, you had no idea what to do next.

“Where on earth did you get that?” you gasped, very unladylike when you snapped it from his hand, it was somehow turned into a work of art now, his words and your own, you’d never even allowed anyone to read what you wrote let alone have someone react like this to it.

“I have my ways,” the smile snuck through, the good one, the one that made you gooey. “Listen, I figured if I can’t actually hear your voice I might as well get to hear the next best thing,” he tapped the top of the paper. “You’re really good, you know, don’t know why you’re hiding that from us common folk,” the compliment was completely sincere, but it made you snap back to reality.

“I’m sorry, Eddie,” you caught him off guard, made him waver in his usual ways because you’d never spoken to him like that, so few words but so somber, he’d never been the one to prompt them from you, he hated it. “I didn’t even think about how this could turn into such a big dramatic thing- you were just so easy to be around, to exist with, made me feel so human, so safe- I didn’t think we’d get into so much trouble for it.”

“I’m easy to be around?” he scoffed, leaned back against some stacks of tables, eyes ever dreamy as he looked you over. “Don’t think I’ve felt so comforted just being with someone ever before, warmth literally fills the air around you, if anyone should apologize for not being weary it should be me- should’ve known that being friends with you would be hard enough.”

“A bunch of idiots, we were,” you sighed, and you allowed yourself another moment of selfishness when you went to stand next to him, sighed again when your arms squeezed against each other, braced yourself before resting your head on his shoulder. “First guy I ever liked like this, and you just had to work for my dad and ruin it all.”

“Tell me about it, a guy falls for a girl like you, and she just has to be related to the jerk who signs his checks,” he lingered, paused before he let his hand brush against yours, sighed shakily when he rested his head on top of yours. “Shit, I really liked you, you know.”

“I really did like you too, never expected you’d break my heart before I even had the chance to give it to you,” he wasn’t sure how to reply to that, the thought of being given your heart was absolutely insane, a heart like that, so bruised yet so trusting of all he was, what kind of guy would be lucky enough to have the chance to hold onto it.

“Happy Valentine's Day, sweetheart,” he breathed, and you were looking at the rose he’d given you as if you expected something of it, all the answers to your situation, a promise that this wasn’t the end of what could’ve been something so amazing if everything was just so completely different.

“Happy Valentine's Day, Eddie,” you sighed, placed the flower right back into his hand, and reminded yourself that you just had to make it to the bathroom before you’d allow yourself to cry- it represented him so well, so beautiful, so lovely, but you couldn’t let anyone see you with it, couldn’t hold onto it even if you wanted.

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x yn #eddie munson angst #eddie munson blurb #eddie munson drabble #eddie munson one shot #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson ff #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fic

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cebwrites · 4 months

Note

hi hi Ceb! It’s me Nico! And I was wondering if you could write some zoro fluff with a ftm reader who’s having a tough time with back issues and improperly binding? If not that is absolutely a okay and I hope you have a great evening, night or day!

a/n: hell yeah i can do that!! trans guys are my bread and butter >:3 you asked for zoro but this kind of turned into a nakama piece from the SHs supporting their friend too oops

binding pains (Zoro x Reader)

pre-timeskip, t4t mlm zoro and reader, smut mention but no details word count: 1.2k

Zoro was the first to notice.

Well, maybe some of the others have too, but only few others out of the Strawhats are able to pinpoint the exact reason behind the discomfort you desperately try to hide; how you can never find a comfortable angle to lounge on the couch, the awkward ways you have to sit at the table to eat without irritating the dull throb that's become a near-constant in your day to day, and your perpetual slouch getting worse.

It was getting more difficult to hide that pain in the aftermath of simple sparring, too, let alone actual fights with the usual suspects you and your crew had to contend with.

You'd shut down any concern shown your way by older members of the crew; queer elders that knew precisely what the problem was, but you weren't ready to be vulnerable enough with them to hear out any potential solution yet. Everyone had only just gotten together, picking up a funny old skeleton on some fucked up Warlord's travelling island a week or so back and having only saved Robin from the clutches of the government a month or two before that.

You understood that Robin was only trying to be proactive in comforting her newfound family but you weren't ready yet—a fact she seemingly understood and kept from prying accordingly, but made sure you knew you'd always have a shoulder to lean on with her. This influenced Franky's support to be a little less high-flown too, somehow.

This sparked new, unrelated, but curious questions in your mind about the nature of their relationship these past few weeks but that - was none of your business. Just as you had your right to privacy, Franky and Robin deserved to come forward about if they were... complimentary to one another or not. Frankly the thought kind of did make you blush a bit, though, like a kid watching their parents share tender but casual affection in the comfort of domesticity.

Now, Roronoa, the beautiful light reflecting off your blade, Zoro - caught on to your act almost immediately. Because this was this was the exact kind of dumb shit he'd pull in the lawless, early days of his transition where he had no one to tell him not to, back when he didn't have nearly half the self-confidence in the man that he was today. Or rather, no one to tell him that he was doing it incorrectly.

The issue he runs into is more of, how, he'd approach this with you instead of if, since he knows he should. Zoro considered going to Chopper first since that little reindeer was the resident doctor, but he didn't know if that would fly into the territory of outing you, and that threw out the possibility of asking for advice from the others too. Not that Zoro could be particularly subtle even if he tried, everyone would know he was talking about his partner the moment he asked.

So he resigns to just approaching you about it himself.

Tucked away in one of the hammocks hung in the men's quarters one lazy evening, Luffy and Usopp's laughter rang loudly, but muffled above the floorboards. Zoro cradled you with one arm around your waist, the other rest comfortably behind his head. You smiled, moments like these were small but many, one of the joys of being on this crew you assumed.

As Zoro moved to rub his arm against your back, however, you can't quite suppress the way you instinctively tense, nor the growing anxiety deep in your chest every time his hand passed against the fabric of your bindings. Logically, you knew this was nothing to be worried about. Zoro was the same, another beautiful trans guy with the enviable confidence to walk around topless. So what if his boyfriend wasn't quite there yet?

"Hey, how's about we look into getting you a binder?" Zoro was cautious, eyes still closed but he listened intently for your response as his hand drifted further down to your lower back, taking a slight bit of pressure of your mind now that he wasn't actively touching the wrappings.

"You're hurting yourself." He'd roll over to face you properly now, both hands gently cradling your waist.

You'd hesitate to meet his gaze, one you knew to be intense ever since the day he first laid eyes on you, and now, in the tender silence you shared with him you knew that the look in his eyes would rival the sun - the intensity of his love for you, his devotion to you threatening to burn your spirit to a crisp.

Hesitantly, but safe in the sanctuary of his arms, you open up to him about your concerns, your fears. How you're afraid perceptions of you might change if a strange piece of new clothing suddenly shows up in the wash and the other crew members have to watch you claim it as yours. He'd assuage your unease with gentle kisses and small talks of affirmation.

How this crew of all people would never choose to treat someone differently for a silly (but understandable fear) reason like that.

That night he helped undo your wrappings and joked that he could hear your spine realign as you afforded yourself a well earned stretch, laughing at the bindings you threw at his face. He sounded even more pleased when you chose to wrap them around his eyes later on, and with permission granted, devoured your body that night in the crow's nest blind.

The next morning or maybe a few days after, he'd urge you to approach Nami about a little extra pocket money for this particular expense, and maybe some moral support when going shopping for it. For the latter, Robin tags along provided you want her to. Chopper doesn't do his usually overblown reaction of finding out someone on the crew is hurt when you go to him about the back problems that you developed after poor binding, but he does tear up and ask you to come to him immediately the next time something like this happens, and that he's sorry for not being someone you could feel comfortable doing that with a lot sooner.

And I mean—hell, if discomfort with your chest got really bad before the gang could find you the right binder, Nami and Sanji would be more than willing to make you a custom one right at home provided they could get their hands on the proper materials. You're surprised that Sanji knows how to sew so well but not so when Nami says she's taking all her hard time and labor for this out of your allowance.

Your pocket money doesn't change, and in fact gets a slight "bonus" the day you get it.

A little fun money, is all. But only ever just this once.

You're overjoyed, you cry when you see how flat you look in the mirror. You can finally play in the water topless like children, bask in the sun without a shirt and have him tease you about tan lines later, and overall don't have to worry about turning yourself into a shrimp just to feel a shred of personhood.

Zoro's there with you the whole process, holding your hand, sharing the same joys he felt with his gender affirmation with you.

There's a little more spring in your step after this and you think, as you look at him nap against your shoulder, that you've never been more in love in your life.

#cebwrites #one piece #one piece x reader #pirate hunter zoro #roronoa zoro #zoro #one piece zoro #zoro x reader #straw hat pirates #zoro x male reader #trans zoro #zoro x y/n #zoro x you #op x reader #op zoro

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larcenywrites · 1 year

Text

A Little Stark or Two?

Tony Stark x wife!Reader

Warnings: 18+ Content, unprotected sex

Word count: 1,962

The house was quiet, as usual. Actually, maybe too quiet considering Tony was actually in bed tonight. There weren't any ramblings about some project or company issue or questions about weekend plans. Not even a snide remark trying to get on your bad side for the night! Not that the peace wasn't enjoyable, but at least some conversation would be nice while you were playing 'puzzle pieces' trying to fit some extra and unneeded blankets on the top shelf of the closet. How you had a house so big, and still no room was beyond you. And just when you thought you'd managed to balance everything together, something else just had to come crashing down!

"You okay?"

"Yeah," you yelled back, neatly gathering the spilled contents of the box and deciding you'd just make Tony deal with it tomorrow. But it didn't take long for you to notice what those spilled contents were.

Pictures that you hadn't seen in forever! Of Tony, his parents, and plenty of baby pictures that he'd probably made sure wouldn't see the light of day again... so of course you couldn't resist grabbing a stack to take back with you. Excited about your discovery, you nearly jumped onto the bed, crawling into your now confused husband's side and successfully pulling his attention away from his phone.

"Look," you cooed, leaning into him and getting a not quite as excited sigh when he realized what you had found, unamused and watching you flip through the old photos.

"You were so cute," you continued your awing, maybe over-exaggerating a bit to get on his nerves.

"I'm still cute," he said defensively, pouting when you looked at him and pretended to compare.

"Baby Tony was cuter," you sang your conclusion, smiling at the frown he gave you and giving him a quick kiss. He hummed in thought, discarding his phone onto the bedside table and leaning into you.

"We could make some cute babies," he commented not-so-innocently, voice low and close. A hand snuck behind your back, and lips found your shoulder. The implication had your heartbeat quickening, and you trying not to press your thighs together.

"You think so?" You matched his tone, turning to meet him.

"We could find out," he offered, playing with the bottom of your shirt and glancing down at your lips. You impishly grinned and bit your lip, knowing where his mind was at and reluctantly turning back to the stack in your hands. Tony would agree to anything when he was riled up, after all. When he realized you didn't have your attention anymore, he sighed forlornly and leaned back against the headboard, arm still wrapped around your waist.

But… it did have you thinking Tony was here most days at least (being a billionaire CEO with plenty of people to do his work for him had its perks), and he was more responsible than that loose cannon you'd met during his college days… sort of. He was spacey, distractible, and easy to bore, but of the few things that did remain constant, you were one of them. If he could put more love and care into anything else, it would be a family.

"Would you want to?" You turned, giving him your best please take this serious look. He glanced you up and down with a grin, not necessarily in a sexual manner but something that made you wonder if he had been waiting for you to ask. The deep and lingering kiss to your cheek might have held that answer.

"I think a little Stark or two would be nice," he finally broke the silence, an arm hooking under your thighs brought your legs to lay over his lap, hugging you into the warmth of his bare chest. "Waking us up every night and getting into my things," he continued fondly, "and probably as fussy as me." When you looked up at him he nuzzled into you with noses knocking and foreheads touching in a sickeningly sweet display. You curled your body into him just a little more.

"It is a little too quiet around here," you added wistfully. Tony didn't get into as much trouble as he used to, but a gaggle of little Starks would undoubtedly get up to no good.

"Wanna change that?" He shifted sweeter mood to something a bit heavier, trailing his touch to your inner thighs and moving to hover over your lips. Neither of you needed further discussion.

He was biting at your bottom lip and fervently licking into your mouth as soon as you closed the gap. Hands found their way under your shirt, fingertips softly grazing over your stomach before pawing at your chest, harshly thumbing and tweaking at your nipples. He dove straight to your neck at the first small moan, not needing further prompt. You lifted your chin, giving him all the access he needed and humming at the tongue that traced over your throat.

At the feeling of your shirt being lifted, you took over for him, displacing him from your throat and tossing the garment to the floor. He carefully lifted your legs, moving you back to your original position and pressing into your side urging you to lay beneath him. Teeth and tongue busied themselves between your breasts, arms caging around you as he mouthed his way down. You ran a hand through those dark curls and caressed over his arm, feeling his breath hitch against your skin just from your touch.

"Someone's eager," you teased, nearly out of breath already in such a short time. Obviously, he had something more important than foreplay to get to.

"Daddy's got a job to do," he muttered against your skin, placing an enthusiastic lovebite in the curve of your waist. He smirked when you jolted in response, letting go and trailing short smooches toward your last piece of clothing, leaving a lingering kiss in that spot below your belly button before reaching his destination. He eased a hand between your legs, a few fingers nudging past your underwear and spreading through the slick of your arousal.

"Someone's eager," he cheekily commented, a wet finger toying at your clit for a few seconds only to leave as soon as you pushed and raised your hips for more. You cooperated with him in sliding your last bit of clothes from your legs, impatient for him to do the same as soon as they hit the floor. And thankfully, he must have felt the same, ridding himself of his boxers and giving your thighs a few more frantic kisses that apologized for the lack of further foreplay. He took his place between your legs, stroking himself a few times before you felt the heat of his cock pressing into your entrance. His shallow thrusts were slow, easing you into opening up for him more first and softly setting your nerves alight with each gentle push that let him in a little further each time. You sighed blissfully when his cock finally found its home deep inside of you, tip kissing those hard-to-reach soft spots.

As much as he liked to take his time and keep you wound up, it was hard when you squirmed beneath him and your walls fluttered around him so tightly, beckoning him deeper and just begging to be fucked and filled. There was a brief pause in his rhythm as he finally lowered to you, greeting you with slow, tongue-heavy kisses. You moaned against his lips when he roughly bucked into you, slow but harsh thrusts bottoming out a few times before his fists gripped at the sheets on either side of you. He found his way back into the crook of your neck, groaning and pushing you down into the mattress just a little more to keep you right where he wanted you and rocking into you just a little harder and faster.

Your hands wandered, grabbing at his back, his arms, his neck, his hair- wherever you could grip and scratch to keep him close and curled into you. Your legs involuntarily squeezed against him with the jolts of pleasure that kept you on edge with every deep stroke that knocked at your end.

His moan was low, the hot breath against the pulse of your neck being enough to have you finally clenching around him impossibly harder, closing your legs around his hips and making him moan with the nails digging into his back as the burn in your core finally peaked. You could feel yourself working against him, pulling from him that delicious string of groans that complimented your own as he kept fucking through your tight heat with a purpose that had your nails practically tearing into his bicep as an outlet for your ecstatic overstimulation. But even with all that enthusiasm, only a few more thrusts had him faltering and obviously close.

"Fucking cum in me, Tony," you pleaded, breathily moaning against his ear, still coming down from your high and mindlessly babbling. He didn't need any more encouragement, slowing and stilling with a satisfied groan below your ear.

He kept himself buried as deep as he could, the throbbing swell of his cock almost too much as he finally came. The hips stuttering against your own only tried to probe deeper with each hot spill of cum right against the lower part of your womb, eagerly hitting his target. He'd occasionally finished in you before when your cycle allowed it, but this was something different, something vulnerable. It had you weak, legs trembling around his waist and only able to pant out a few whimpers as he kept you full and stretched to your limit. The lips against your shoulder soon left at your reaction, soothing you with soft kisses to your cheek as he finished.

Finally, he shifted above you, freeing you from the weight that kept you pressed into the mattress and moving his hands to your hips, starting to sit up. You winced at the last pulling friction of his exit, grunting in protest at the gentle prodding against your slit. Two fingers carefully dipped into you, pushing dribbled-out cum back into you and dragging teasingly against your walls as they exited, as if smearing it from his fingers. You threw him a glance, watching the shameless bastard place a kiss to your knee and return your stare with a wink before finally leaving you be, for the moment at least, going to do his typical cleanup routine while you pulled at the sheets.

A dip in the mattress had your attention, watching him climb under the sheets with you, invading your side of the bed and cozying into your pillow with you. Fingers ran through your hair, caressing down your neck before a palm cupped your jaw. You could only get so much closer to him, legs already touching and lips pressed to your forehead. You hated to interrupt such an intimate moment, but unfortunately, now you were the one that needed to get cleaned up. You reluctantly sat up, the arm around your waist finally slipping away when you slid off the bed.

"Where are you going," he whined, dragging out the -ing and curling into the sheets in your absence.

"To shower," you sang, looking back at him from the doorway. He peered at you over the blanket, waiting for permission to join in. "Would you like to continue?" You didn't stand around waiting to see if he would, but a pair of hands dragged you against him before the water was even warm, and the prickle of his beard was already tickling your neck.

Safe to say he was going to keep you busy tonight, but it wasn't going to be the last sleepless night.

#tony stark #tony stark smut #tony stark x reader #Tony Stark fanfiction #tony stark x female reader #tony stark x fem!reader #tony stark one shot #tony stark imagine #fanfic #fanfiction #iron man fanfiction #iron man #iron man x reader #iron man imagine #marvel #marvel x reader

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ellie-24 · 1 year

Text

Forbidden Fruit

Finally another installment set in my Big Daddy Elvis x assistant reader verse. Chronologically set after Maybe one day, but can be read as a stand alone. It's also not a reader-insert per se anymore because our lovely assistant has a name now. I hope you like it!! :)

Also I really gotta say a special thank you to the incomparable @whositmcwhatsit who made the whole thing readable and had some great tips! And thanks to @thatbanditqueen @vintageshanny @be-my-ally @missmaywemeetagain @from-memphis-with-love for being the most inspiring, awesome backup ever. (they're also the ones taking possible complaints regarding the word count, they're responsible for it)

Warnings: Elvis loves his guns, discussions of Elvis' health, mentions of alcohol, addiction, pills, light manipulation and gaslighting, a bit of period typical misogyny, a bit of smut at the end (oral, f receiving)

Word count: ~13.3 k

You had continued staying with him at night after that one episode where he nearly overdosed. Elvis’ night terrors weren’t comparable to what most people mean when they describe what they go through when it’s time to sleep. Being around Elvis meant to completely ignore and unlearn your natural sleeping pattern. Scratch that. Being around Elvis meant that you had to forget everything considered normal. Day to day activities were determined by his unpredictable and sometimes challenging moods. In your short time working for him you quickly learned to adjust and be done with it. More importantly to never question anything. Things just made more sense when you stopped thinking about them too hard.

That’s how you found yourself sitting at Elvis’ bed at 5 in the morning reading to him. Being around Elvis meant being nocturnal. Which also meant that going to bed at 5 AM was a sensible thing to do.

“He's always been like this.” Charlie said to you a few days earlier. “Billy told me he never slept well. Even before his rise to fame, as a child. I guess that just stuck. He never outgrew it.”

“I think it might just be a habit now. He obviously performs at night. Very late into the night, it's only natural for your body to adjust.” Jerry had interjected.

“Well, he takes his pills before a show. You know the ones that make him more... energetic.” you offered.

Jerry raised his eyebrows. “Energetic. That's a nice way to put it.”

You shrugged. “He takes them before his shows. They're probably still full in effect when he tries to go to sleep.” The two men hummed, the conversation apparently over.

Whether it was a combination of those or something else entirely. Whatever it was, it caused nearly everyone in his orbit to go to bed when the rest of the world woke up.

He insisted that you stayed by his side from the moment he laid down until he woke up again. Clearly this was far beyond your duty as a personal assistant, but you couldn’t help yourself. You knew he hated being alone with his mind for too long, claiming it would get weird up there. He often found solace in his faith, carrying a bible everywhere he went. His books on spiritualism and numerology were constant companions as well. When his sleeping pills wouldn’t do the job and he found himself thrashing back and forth in his bed, frustrated that he just couldn’t seem to find any rest, he reached out for his reading glasses and turned on the lamp. His mind was running at full speed anyway, so he might as well put it to use.

The only thing hindering him now was the pain in his eye. The doctor couldn’t quite figure out what it was, but sometimes it was nearly unbearable for him. His body was so accustomed to the medication that even the painkillers he took hours ago couldn’t give him any relief.

“Do me a favour, will ya? Read this to me?” He held out a book to you.

“Is it your eye?”

He pursed his lips and narrowed his eyes at you. “...Nah, just wanna hear your sweet voice.” he mumbled with a grin.

In your one hand you now held Cheiro’s Book of Numbers, a very interesting choice for a bedtime story. (Don’t question things.) Your other hand was occupied holding his ring clad one. How he slept with all this jewellery was another mystery to you.

He closed his eyes and reached out for your hand, grasping it tight. You scooted closer to him. “I'm right here, E. I'll stay.”

He hummed and squeezed your hand even tighter.

Elvis certainly had to be the most physical and touchy person you’d ever known. You gently ran your thumb over his palm, assuring him the whole time. He’d sometimes grunt or hiss, his face scrunching up in pain, which caused you to stutter slightly. You tried to conceal it. Often you thought he had finally fallen asleep, his breathing evening out, his hand squeezing yours less and less.

However when you stopped reading, you’d hear him rumbling. “... Julie, be a sweetheart and read that last part again, will ya? Didn’t quite catch that.”

That was the exact sentence he mumbled every time you grew quiet. After the third time though, the sentence grew shorter and shorter each time until the only thing he eventually managed to get out was a slurred “Julie, sweetheart.”

You read aloud for two more minutes and when you stopped this time, there was no reaction from him. You closed the book with a sigh and put it on his night stand and checked the time. 7:48 AM. With a huff, you ran your hands over your face, wanting nothing more than go to sleep as well. It felt like every day you needed to apply more make up to the ever growing bags under your eyes. But you couldn't go to sleep. Not really.

Being around Elvis meant almost constant paranoia. Paranoia that his lifestyle would finally take its toll. You’d seen him almost die two times now. When he nearly overdosed the other day you realised the true extent of the damage all the pills caused.

“It's alright, sweetheart. The doctor prescribed them. He knows what he's doing, he's a doctor.” he laughed, looking at you like you had grown two heads.

“Jerry said you've been to the hospital multiple times already.” you insisted. “Don't you think-”

“He's just a nervous nelly. It was probably... dehydration or something along the lines, nothing dramatic. Don't believe everything you're told” he argued, leaving no room for disagreeing.

The only other time you witnessed him almost die was at dinner. You and the rest of the Memphis Mafia sat together enjoying a relaxed dinner after a successful show. Everyone enjoyed their food and made light conversation until Elvis started choking all of the sudden. You remember sitting in shock, dropping your plate as you watched Jerry run over to him and perform the Heimlich manoeuvre. This event had truly shocked you to the core, causing dinner to be considered a rather stressful affair now.

The truly terrifying thing about this whole nerve wrecking affair wasn’t necessarily the fact that Elvis Presley was in fact choking, it was how automatic and nonchalant everyone was about it. As if the whole process has been practised numerous times. Jerry later informed you that something like this would indeed happen on a regular basis. Almost everyone close to him had saved his life at one point. Literally. Charlie explained that the medication would alter and slow his reflexes, often causing him to choke on food. Sometimes he had trouble catching his breath, even without physical activity. That's why you always made sure to carry a second inhaler with you anywhere you went. There were many things to look out for and the responsibility sometimes made your head spin. Actually, you should start making a list, maybe it'll ease some of your anxieties.

You yawned and laid down next to him. You made sure to put a hand on his plush chest, feeling the coarse hair under your palm. The steady rise and fall of it and the strong beating of his heart calmed you a bit. Often you would just lay there and study his face, fighting the urge to close your burning eyes. The way his eyes were moving frantically under closed lids. Black eyeliner still smudged, long eyelashes fluttering over soft cheeks. His beautifully shaped nose would twitch occasionally as if you’d tickled him with a feather. His marshmallow lips would move from time to time like he was talking, or singing. You didn’t really know, but that’s when you had to pay close attention. Once he started thrashing around you scooted back a bit, not wanting to get accidentally hit by him. Eventually he'd calm down again and you breathed a sigh of relief every time. You won't ever forget the one time he actually got up and started to walk around. It had taken you a few seconds to figure out that he was sleep walking

He had to be closely watched throughout the night and in a way you of course understood why he insisted on you staying with him. You could clearly see that he was scared of himself at times, scared for himself. So you did your best to be there for him, even though it was taxing at times. Not only as an employee, but as a friend. He needed it. You turned your head to the night stand and checked the time again. 10:03 AM. Damn.

It felt like you had closed your eyes for about a second when you felt something pulling at your hair. Your eyes shot open and you saw Elvis leaning over you, a few strands of your hair between his fingers.

“Wakey, wakey, sweetheart.” He cooed at you and started to braid your locks.

“Hey E, what time is it?” you asked groggily.

“Time to wake up, sweetheart,” he hummed.

“Very funny.” You sighed and closed your eyes again. At that, he gave a light yank to the small braid he held in his hands.

“Don’t go back to sleep, Julie baby,” he insisted.

“Alright okay, I’m awake.” You turned over again. 5:26 PM. Damn, it felt like you were asleep for a minute. “Was Charlie already here?” you asked, rubbing your eyes. He must have been, otherwise Elvis wouldn’t be so active already. Just like he couldn’t go to sleep without special help, he needed a little something extra to get up and function again. It was a vicious cycle, really.

“Yeah, he was.” He waved away as you sat up.

“Oh my god, shit, why didn’t you wake me up? I really slept in!”

“I did.” He stated with an innocent smile, feigning ignorance. “Also, I had to show him what a cutie you are when you're asleep. Did ya know ya pull the funniest faces? I can always tell what you're dreaming.” You decided not to comment on this and rolled your eyes, swinging your legs over the edge of the bed. He placed a hand on your shoulder, holding you back.

“Wait, sweetheart, there’s something I gotta talk to you about real quick.” You turned back to him, giving him your full attention and he smiled, pleased. “You remember those crazy guys who tried to get onstage while I was performing, made a big fuss? Lamar, uh, mentioned they saw some guys lurking around, uh, looking like they’re up to no good. Down in the casino.”

You had an idea where this was going. The paranoia that everyone felt around Elvis extended to Elvis himself. He always felt like there was someone after him. To a degree you could understand, as there were real incidents like death threats, rude letters, or fans who got a little too excited and almost attacked him.

You had experienced it yourself after seeing the mean looks on the faces of some female fans directed towards you, and waiting for something to happen, but you knew not to let it affect you too much. However, Elvis took these things to heart, and you didn’t understand why his entourage would feed into those fears and the paranoia. The guys Lamar was talking about were probably harmless, but due to Elvis’ own concern he felt the need to tell him. Elvis made them see a threat everywhere. Everyone was aware that Elvis needed to know that he was in charge, that he was in control, and that he would decide what’s best for everyone, because he just knew.

He had told you numerous times that it was best to always carry a gun. After all he carried one everywhere he went, even onstage. The shock you felt at that particular revelation is hard to describe, but, as you had learned by now, it was best not to question things. You had declined every time he suggested it, finding it unreasonable, but now you had a feeling you were about to have that discussion again.

“...Sweetheart, I want you to be safe.” He continued and squeezed your shoulder.

“You don’t gotta worry about me. I can take care of myself.” You insisted, raising your chin.

He tilted his head to the side in disbelief. “Can ya? I remember ya nearly leaping into my arms, scared to death at the sight of a little spider. When was that? Three days ago?” he mused with a shit eating grin on his face.

You lightly smacked his arm. “That’s not the same! And the spider wasn’t small. For the record.”

“It was an itty bitty spider, sweetheart. It’s not my fault that everything looks huge for poor little Julie.” He smirked, waggling his eyebrows.

“Okay, I might be scared of spiders, but I’m not intimidated by some guys Lamar and the others deem ‘up to no good’,” you countered, mimicking the quotation marks with your fingers.

“It’s not funny, ya know how people can get. Pretty thing like you can turn into a damsel in distress real quick. Trust me. I just want ya to be able to protect yourself.”

“Elvis, we’ve been through this,” you sighed.

He took a deep breath. “Sweetheart, I- I feel responsible for you... Give me some peace o-of mind,” he stammered, leaning closer towards you with a pleading look on his face.

“I’m an adult, you know.”

He pouted. “Then start a-acting like one. Julie, you a-are so damn stubborn, why can’t you just d-do what I tell you,” he argued, throwing his arms up in frustration.

You took a deep breath and placed your hands on his shoulders. “Elvis, I know that you mean well and I appreciate your concern-“

“Don’t brush me off, sweetheart. Will ya do as you’re told?”

You sighed. It’s true you were stubborn, but he was stubborn as well, and persuading him didn’t work this time. The discussion was pointless and you knew that in order to save you some trouble the best thing you could do was just agree. He wasn’t gonna give up, you could feel it. There was a determination and finality in his eyes that left no room for arguing. On the one hand it could be considered flattering that he was so concerned with your well-being, but on the other it was scary to think about what was going on in his head, pushing him to such decisions.

“I guess I could give it a try. Just for tonight, alright?” His hand moved from your shoulder and brushed against your chin in a feather light touch. It sent a warm tingle down your spine.

“Anyone ever tell you that you can be real difficult, sweetheart?” he stated with a tender smile.

“Actually, you’re the first. Everyone I interact with always makes sure to tell me that I’m an absolute delight. Highlight of their day.”

“Hush now,” he chuckled as he got up from the bed with a grunt. He rotated his shoulder multiple times and put a hand on his back with a sigh. You knew that today wasn’t a particularly good day for him.

“...How is your eye?” you inquired with a more serious tone, getting up as well to fetch his sunglasses.

He squinted his eyes and shook his head with a small frown. “I’m good,” was the short answer you received. You carefully placed the glasses on his nose and wiped away some sweat that had gathered on his forehead. It always seemed to be there.

“Are you sure?”

“Stop worrying your pretty lil’ head about that,” he replied, tugging at your hair again. You smiled at him and gently ran your hand through his soft hair. He leaned into it.

“...I don’t-“

“I know my body, woman. I’m grown, let me handle it,” he cut you off, raising an eyebrow.

The irony of this exchange wasn’t lost on you. You had the feeling it wasn’t lost on him either as he cleared his throat and walked away from you and your touch. At times it could happen that he was self aware. Fleeting moments really.

He always claimed to know what everyone was supposed to do. If it were only suggestions he offered, but no, he had to make sure they were carried out. Preferably he carried them out himself, at least then he knew it was properly taken care of. He even felt responsible for things that weren’t his business in the slightest, but the moment someone else merely suggested that he should take care of something concerning himself, he’d shut them down in a second. Didn’t even want to hear it.

You followed him and he cast a warning look over his shoulder, as if he saw you opening your mouth through the back if his head. He opened a closet and pulled out a leather case, putting it on the glass table in front of him and swiftly opening it. At the sight of what was inside, a gasp escaped you: various firearms, badges and bullets, shining and reflecting the sun light, almost blinding you. His obsession with law enforcement was nothing new to you, he had proudly showed you his Reserve Captain of the City of Memphis Badge and his police flashlight the first time you met him, but seeing all these guns in front of you was something else.

“Pretty, aren’t they?” he smirked.

“Uhm, they’re certainly uh... This one’s pretty.” You pointed at a small gun decorated with golden leaves and different animals, which were carefully engraved into the steel.

“I had a feeling you’d like this one.” He responded proudly and picked it up with trained expertise.

“I like the animal,” you remarked, mentally slapping yourself for not coming up with something more clever.

He chuckled. “It’s a Smith & Wesson 19, I had it custom made in Germany. You wanna hold it?”

“Uh..”

“Don’t worry, sweetheart, it’s not loaded. See?” He opened the cylinder and showed you the empty chambers, then shut it again and pressed the gun into your hands.

“A pretty lil’ gun for a pretty lil’ girl.” He smirked as he assessed you carefully, licking his lips. You felt heat rising up your chest and neck and cleared your throat.

“...I don’t even know how to..” you trailed off, the gun still laying in your open palms, looking a bit lost.

“Here, let me,” he mumbled as he stepped behind you.

Suddenly his strong arms were around you, surrounding you, trapping you. For a moment you forgot how to breathe, your body betraying you and your muscles not moving the way you wanted them to. You were still able to move your eyes though and saw his big hands engulfing your smaller ones. He gently guided your trembling hands, showing you how to properly hold the gun. You weren’t sure if the trembling was caused by the highly dangerous firearm in your grasp or the equally dangerous Rock ‘n’ Roll star behind you. You took a shuddering breath after what felt like hours and promptly realised it was a grave mistake. His smell now surrounded you as well, an intoxicating mix of sweat, cologne and cigars. If you leaned back just a little you could feel the swell of his stomach, you already felt the heat of his body radiating off him. Oh, how you wanted to let go and just-

“Are ya still with me, sweetheart?” he chuckled behind you, his lip curling. Shoot.

“...Uh sorry, what did you say? I was... concentrating,” you stammered, relieved that at least he couldn’t see the blush on your cheeks.

He stepped forward with a small laugh, finally closing the gap between your bodies, trapping you completely to him. You were only wearing a tank top and the v neck of his shirt was so deep that you could feel his coarse chest hair against your shoulder. Sweet Jesus, this man was driving you insane! His warm hands started to work yours again, correcting angles and adjusting your hold. The coolness of his rings and the sight of the veins on the back of his hand caused your heartbeat to pick up once more.

“Yeah, like this... Wait, your finger has to go there... Relax your lil’ fingers, sweetheart... I said relax... That’s it,” he murmured, his rough fingertips now slowly gliding over your wrist, steadying your hand. He played you like an instrument, one of his guitars maybe, waiting to be tuned. You swallowed hard and prayed that he couldn’t see the goosebumps forming on your arms, or feel your pulse racing under his nimble fingers.

“Good. Now we gotta work on your stance.”

Without warning, you felt his strong thigh pressing itself between your legs, nudging your feet apart. You let out a surprised yelp and nearly lost your balance, but he hastily wrapped an arm around your middle, fingers digging into your stomach.

“Woah, careful there, little lady... Am I making you nervous?” he asked with a smirk. He knew damn well, he just enjoyed watching you squirm. His warm breath tickled your ear and for a second you thought you felt his soft lips gently brushing against your cheek. It was only for a millisecond, but it sent a shock through your core. Did he really just…?

“...You w-wish, huh? I -I just want to be careful with this... weapon of mass destruction,” you gasped and tried to conceal it with a laugh, feeling a bit breathless. He slowly ran his hands over your waist, down to your hips.

“Sweetheart, quit being so jittery. You gotta stop being so damn careful with this ‘weapon of mass destruction’,” he chuckled. “It can handle ya having a bit of fun with it.” He spoke in a low voice and pressed himself even closer to you, the double meaning of his words not lost on you. You wanted to deny it for your own sanity, but you were sure that it was the outline of his dick you felt against your backside. Was he wearing no underwear under these silk pyjamas? You felt a lump in your throat and your mouth turned dry. Like a desert. Oh god.

“What is it, Julie darlin’? Cat got your tongue?” he whispered, his chin resting on your shoulder. You stared straight ahead, because if you turned your head just a little bit, your lips would certainly brush against his. Then it would be game over. You had to focus, which was a difficult task with him continuing to knead the flesh of your hips without a care in the world.

You were used to his flirting and touching and, of course, you were both aware for your mutual feelings for each other, but you had made an agreement not to act on it, protecting both of you. Spending every night with him, though platonic, already meant treading on thin ice, and feeling him like this, so close, made your resistance grow weaker by the minute. He apparently had an equally hard time holding back and you knew it was up to you to stop right now. No matter how much didn’t want this moment to end.

You freed yourself from his grasp and let out a barely audible sigh at the loss of contact. Without his comforting warmth surrounding you, you couldn’t suppress a little shiver. You turned around and saw him drop his arms that still hovered in front of him as if you were still there. He adjusted his glasses and ran a hand over his mouth.

You got into position to hold the gun like he just showed you. “Like this?” you questioned. You knew it probably wasn’t perfect, you were hardly able to pay attention to what he had just explained to you. Maybe you hoped he would get close to you again, help you and correct you, so you could feel his wide frame against your smaller one. Just maybe. He cleared his throat and looked down.

“Yeah, it’s good,” he murmured and went over to the glass table again, the moment you two just shared now over. With a frown, you followed him and peered over his shoulder to see what he was doing. He opened a small box, revealing various bullets.

“...Now, for the Smith & Wesson you’re gonna need this .357 Magnum cartridge...” He continued listing facts about the ammunition with you listening dutifully, as if nothing happened between you mere seconds ago. Every now and then, he’d look at you to check if you were still paying attention to him and, though you didn’t really understand what he was talking about, you nodded your head every now and then. He showed you how to open and close the cylinder and placed a bullet in each of the six chambers. Alright, now it was loaded. Great.

“Here, watch this,” he said and got into position to shoot. You thought he wanted to show you the hold and stance again, but you were wrong. You saw his finger coming dangerously close to the trigger and, without warning, he pulled it. You shrieked as he actually shot at the sofa at the other end of the room. Was he completely losing his mind now, just shooting inside a building? You wanted to remind yourself not to question things, but this was too much. You could not leave it like this. Couldn’t pretend it was normal.

“Elvis! What are you doing?” you screamed, covering your ears with your hands.

“I’m demonstrating,” he answered, shrugging his shoulders.

“...You... You shot a pillow!”

“It’s ugly anyways.”

“Ugh... I don’t believe you sometimes,” you said, shaking your head. He actually had the audacity to laugh.

“Come on Julie, it’s funny.”

“...You’re a... a man child!” you said with a small nervous chuckle, your ears still ringing.

“And you’re a killjoy!”

“Oh my god, I’ll better go downstairs now, before you start shooting the windows. And you should start getting ready, you have a performance later, remember?”

“What was I just saying about a killjoy?”

“And put the gun away!”

“Lord, woman, you’re horrible.”

“It’s called common sense, E.”

“Boring,” he said, although he couldn’t hide how the corners of his mouth lifted into a small smile.

“Common sense!” you laughed and gathered your stuff as well as the keys for your apartment. The apartment you barely used now, spending most of your time and nearly every night with him, but you insisted on keeping it. You still wanted to keep that last boundary, the illusion that you weren’t as deeply involved as you were. You didn’t want to admit it to yourself.

On your way out you turned to him and waved.

“See you in an hour or so. If you need something just give me a call.”

“You forgot something,” he said, raising an eyebrow.

You halted in your tracks. Man, you just couldn’t get away with anything today. You sighed and he walked towards you with a serious expression on his face once more. He handed you the gun he had used to shoot the poor pillow.

“Take it, Julie.” Maybe it was better if you just took it. Even if you wouldn’t necessarily use it, it would be a precaution.

“...Alright, boss.” You mock saluted and grinned up to him. He smiled fondly, his eyes twinkling, as he brushed some of your hair behind your ear and his thumb briefly traced along your jawline towards your chin, lingering there for a moment.

“I knew you could be a good girl.”

“You like it?”

He hummed and leaned against the door frame, looking at you with a mixture of surprise and satisfaction.

“...Then I’ll have to rethink it.”

His face dropped and you let out a small giggle at his expression. You enjoyed it when you got to tease him and sometimes it was just too easy with him. He needed some light-hearted fun like anyone else, but it rarely happened; the possibility of him not appreciating the joke and the consequences of that always lingering in the back of everybody’s mind.

“You little minx,” he muttered with a grin and reached out for your waist. You backed away.

“Ah! No time to be silly! I told you we have to start getting ready,” you laughed and turned around. “See you later!” He leaned against the door frame and gently smiled at you until you were out of sight.

After arriving at your apartment, you opted for a quick shower and carefully reapplied your makeup the way Elvis wanted you to. He showed you exactly how to do it, claiming that everyone in the inner circle represented him and there was a certain image to uphold. You figured this made sense and complied with his rules. He was very particular about these things, always concerned with what others thought of him. Whether it was the fans not showing enough enthusiasm at his shows, or the tabloids printing horrible stories about him, it was enough to turn him sour and moody for a couple of hours.

After wiping off some excess lip gloss, you carefully eyed the gun and picked it up. Sighing, you chewed on your bottom lip. Were you really gonna go out there with a gun, even for effect?

It felt like just another one of Elvis’ silly little ideas, thinking he could show you how it worked in a 10-minute crash course and then off you would go. He never thought these things through and his irresponsibility annoyed you.

“Nah, this is stupid,” you muttered to yourself, hiding the gun in your closet. Elvis wouldn’t know. You needed to be the sensible one.

You grabbed your bag and walked towards the door. As you turned the handle, you casted one last look over your shoulder, facing the closet. You shook your head and closed the door behind you.

On your way down you briefly passed the Colonel, but refused to spare him a glance. He showed up less and less, preferring to work everything out from a safe distance. Probably too much of a coward to face Elvis and the rest of the entourage.

After Elvis had tried to fire him a few weeks ago, there was a noticeable discomfort with the situation on all sides involved. Vernon had advised Elvis that it would be better to keep the Colonel around. Finances and debts played a major role, Vernon explained to you after you asked him about it. There was no way out of this horrid situation.

It made you mad and your frustrations were only made worse by your employer’s reaction, or his lack of reaction. Elvis’ resignation regarding the whole topic, his acceptance that there was nothing he could do, made you incredibly sad. Here was this man they called King, adored by millions of people and surrounded by luxury, and he was utterly powerless. He knew that he didn’t have the willpower, nor the energy to fight anymore, and just passively let these things happen to him.

When you arrived in the backstage area you quickly spotted Charlie and walked up to him, making small talk while you were waiting for Elvis. He showed up a few minutes later, looking as nervous as he did almost every time. You saw that he was sweating again already, his face shining and some of his black hair sticking to his face. You walked up to him and gently dabbed his face with a towel before placing it around his shoulders. He let out a shaky exhale and searched your eyes.

“Ready?” you asked with smile. He huffed a laugh and looked down, shaking his head the tiniest bit. You almost didn’t see it.

“Hold my hand for a bit, will ya, sweetheart?” he whispered and the vulnerability in his eyes was almost too much. One would think after 20 years in the spotlight he would have overcome his stage fright, but every new crowd was another challenge for him. ‘Every audience is different and they never saw me live before. So it’s like performing for the first time every time,’ he always said. You stepped closer to him and reached out for his hand, squeezing it and soothingly rubbing your thumb over the back of it.

“You’re gonna be great, I know it. I see you performing on that stage every evening and I never get tired of watching you. These fans, they’re here for you and you won’t disappoint them.”

“You really think so?” he inquired, his voice more similar like a little boy’s rather than a grown, experienced rock star.

“Yes, E, I do. You’ll blow them away.”

“If you say so, Julie baby.”

“Don’t you think I’m qualified enough to judge?” you asked with a teasing tone.

“Oh sweetheart, I think you’re highly competent,” he quipped, raising an eyebrow.

“I like to remind you of that every now and then.”

“I couldn’t possibly forget,” he smirked, though the tremor in his hand still gave him away.

“Good answer E. See? You know how to charm people. Now you just gotta go out there and do the same.” You squeezed his hand one more time and looked up to him with an encouraging smile.

He took a deep breath when Also Sprach Zarathustra started playing and looked up to the ceiling as if sending up a quick prayer.

“Okay E, let me have a look at you,” you said and reached for his towel, wiping away some of the sweat that had gathered on his face again, as well as some eyeliner that was already smudged. “...Yep, you can go on stage like this.” He gently cupped your chin, making you shiver slightly.

“I’ll be looking for you in the audience. Wish me luck.”

“Good luck,” you whispered and fixed some of his hair that had fallen out of place. “Now you’re perfect.” His eyes briefly flashed with what you thought was insecurity, but it was quickly replaced with a smirk.

“You can be quite charming if you want to as well, Julie baby. You sure it’s not you who’s supposed to be on that stage?” he winked.

“When I start singing, they’ll just flee for their lives,” you joked and he flashed you another smile before turning around, making his way towards the stage.

You gave him a thumbs up and watched him until he was out of sight. That’s when you noticed Jerry standing rather close, looking at you with an unnervingly neutral expression. You had a creeping feeling he’s silently watched the entire exchange between you and Elvis and, though nothing happened, you couldn’t help but feel slightly awkward and exposed under his assertive gaze. You cleared your throat and made your way towards the auditorium.

When you watched Elvis on stage there was no indication of his earlier nervousness. As always, he seemed at home in the bright spotlight, truly in his element. You cheered him on and just ignored the times he stumbled over the lyrics or couldn’t fully hit a note because he was out of breath. In fact, these were the little things that made the performance feel real, evoking genuine emotions within you.

After two hours of Elvis working his magic, you made you way back towards entrance to the backstage area to accompany him back to his suite. You stood in the corridor, mentally going through everything he needed for the night when you heard someone walking behind you.

“Hey, you.” You turned around to see a man around your age approaching, slurring his words. “Uh, do you happen to know where the restrooms are?”

You blinked. “Oh, uh you’re really in the wrong place. This is the way backstage.”

It took some time for him to register what you just said and you could see the gears turning in his head.

“...Oh... huh, you really seem to know your way around here. You come here often?” he asked with a smile that you think was meant to be charming.

You couldn’t help but laugh at his clumsy attempt of flirting. He was obviously drunk, but he was just trying to make conversation. Emphasis on trying.

“Believe it or not, for the last few weeks I’ve been here every night.”

“That’s crazy.” He said with big eyes, but then he nearly gagged.

“Oh my god, okay, come on, I’ll show you the restroom. Don’t want you to throw up all over the corridor.” You said, pulling him along.

“You’re really kind. I’m sorry, I’m not usually this drunk.”

“Yeah, I gathered that. First time in Las Vegas?”

“How do you know?”

“Uh, just a feeling. Happens to the best of us.”

He smiled down at you and promptly lost his footing. You stumbled until both of you fell to the ground with him on top of you. You groaned at the impact and looked around. Trying to get up wasn’t possible with his dead weight on you, so you pushed against his chest. His reaction was slow to non existent. You were sure he was almost passing out.

“Get off me!” you said a bit louder, trying to get his attention.

It seemed like a cruel joke that it was in that particular moment that Elvis, Charlie, Jerry and Lamar turned around the corner, witnessing the scene before them. And boy, it looked bad. You pushed against the stranger’s chest one more time, urging him to get up. He didn’t even have time to react, as he was yanked off by strong hands.

You looked up, relieved to be able to breathe freely again. Elvis had him by the collar of his shirt, pressing him against the wall, with Lamar and Charlie exchanging concerned looks. Jerry walked towards you with a frown and reached out his hand to help you up.

“Were you having fun?” Elvis hissed, his voice dangerously low. His blue eyes were burning beneath his shades, their expression almost scaring you.

“Elvis, he didn’t do anything!” you interjected. Jerry gently grasped your arm, holding you back.

“I asked you a question, you son of a bitch,” Elvis spat angrily.

From the way he stood you could tell that his back was giving him even more trouble than when he got up today, probably from a daring move he had just attempted during his performance, but he still managed to put on a brave face that would convince anyone that he’d still be up for a fight. Not that it mattered much to the drunk stranger, you weren’t sure that he even registered that it was Elvis Presley talking to him.

You ignored Jerry’s hand on your elbow and stepped towards Elvis.

“He’s drunk, I wanted to help him. He fell on me Elvis, nothing happened.”

It was as if he didn’t even hear you. You put a hand on his back, feeling him tremble beneath you, a combination of the post show adrenaline and pure rage. His silence was really starting to scare you. That’s how you knew it was serious. Really serious.

“Please, let go of him.” you begged when he didn’t answer you. You glanced over to the other guys, feeling helpless. All you got were neutral expressions, no one daring to move a finger. Elvis took a deep breath and pointed a ring clad finger at the stranger’s face.

“If you ever come near her again... if I ever see you again.. you’re gonna regret it. Now get outta my sight,” He warned. With a nod towards Lamar and the other two he let go of him and they escorted him away.

You looked at Elvis, who was still breathing heavily. He flexed his hands multiple times and eyed you carefully.

“Julie, where’s your gun?”

Shit.

Your silence answered his question.

“...I don’t believe this,” he mumbled, roughly grabbing your wrist and pulling you along with him, not saying another word to you. Once you were up in his suite again, he slammed the door and looked down on you with a frown.

“Answer me this: What would you have done if I hadn’t been there in time?” he asked, starting to pace around.

“I wasn’t in danger,” you answered, not moving from your spot.

“Damnit, I warned you about guys like him. I knew something like this would happen!” He pulled out the Colt 45 he hid under his pants leg and strode towards you. “I gave you one of these for a reason.” He continued, waving it in front of your face.

“Elvis, please put the gun away,” you said calmly, remembering the stunt he pulled a few hours ago with the pillow.

“I do what I damn well p-please,” he scoffed and turned away from you. You took a step towards him.

“Please, stop acting like this.”

“You don’t get to t-tell me what to do,” he said, pointing his finger at you.

“Goddamnit Elvis! What is going on?!” You cried, fed up with his antics.

“Why don’t you just do what I-I tell you?”

“Because I wanted to decide what I’m going to do,” you explained, lowering your voice a little to appease him.

“Great h-how that worked out f-for ya!” he spat. You scoffed, at a loss for words, and slammed a hand against your forehead.

“Julie, don’t fucking act like I’m the one who’s in the wrong now! I won’t have you disrespecting me like this,” he warned, his eyes burning into yours with a fury that almost made you back up a little.

“It’s not that! I’m trying to tell you that nothing happened! Look at me, I’m alright!” you argued with desperation in your voice as you gestured at yourself. Did he even listen to you?

“But what if something happened? Julie, I swear to god!” He was seething, his face red with exertion.

“What, Elvis?” you snapped. He just glared at you, his chest heaving.

“You know what? I’m not gonna discuss this right now. I’ll come back later,” you shouted and left the apartment without waiting for his reaction.

Just before you shut the door behind you, you heard him yelling at you, “Julie, if you leave now-“

That’s when you closed the door. And for a moment you were scared; scared because his anger was probably directed towards you now. You didn’t mean to upset him, he was going through so much already, but you also knew that it wouldn’t make any sense to try and talk to him right now. His temper was infamous among those in the inner circle, it was one of the first things you were warned about.

In order to have a normal conversation again he would have to calm down first. You had to calm down as well, knowing that you’d probably say something stupid if he continued to act this way. You felt tears of frustration and anger pricking at your eyes and almost ran down the corridor towards the elevator.

You found yourself wandering through the foyer and saw Jerry sitting on a sofa, apparently deep in thought. You let out a sigh of relief as, within the Memphis Mafia, he was the one that you trusted the most. Not only was he the only one who dared to challenge Elvis at times, but he also had known Elvis for a long time and was a great listener, which is why you’d occasionally come to him for advice.

“Hey, Jerry,” you greeted as you approached him tentatively. He looked up to you and blinked.

“Oh.. hey Julie. Are you okay? You still look a bit shaken... Um, don’t worry, we took care of that guy and escorted him back to his friends. We suggested that it would be better for them to leave. No one’s gonna bother you again.” You sat down next to him.

“He was harmless, Jerry, just drunk. I’m more worried about Elvis... He... um just threw another hissy fit and I’m afraid I made it worse.” With another sigh you sank into the soft pillows behind you, though relaxing wasn’t really an option right now.

“Yeah... he was really pissed about this guy. It doesn’t help that he already felt agitated the whole day. I think something just snapped in him... How did you make it worse though?”

“I walked out on him, mid argument.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah, oh. You know, he wanted me to carry a gun, because Lamar thought he saw some gangsters running around the casino... making him go crazy. He wanted me to carry a gun, knowing I have no experience with it, nor the ambition to be honest. I didn’t have it with me and he just... lost his damn mind.”

“I see.” You looked at him expectantly, but he sighed and shrugged.

“Julie... He wants to look out for you. I know he only means well,” he chuckled. “He means well most of the time, it’s just the execution that goes horribly wrong.” You felt a gentle smile tugging at the corners if your lips.

“Yeah, I know that, and I really appreciate his concern, but he needs to know that there are other perspectives as well. People might think differently than him,�� you replied while absentmindedly playing with a loose thread on the cushion next to you. He nodded in understanding and turned to you.

“But that’s the thing, he thinks he knows best. And, as I said, he wants the best for everyone. He’s always worried and... concerned about everyone’s well being, wanting to keep everyone around him happy. Sometimes he even tries to fix things that aren’t even his business... It causes him sleepless nights, really.” He shook his head with a frown.

“God, I feel so bad, but he really got on my last nerve today. He shot a damn pillow and thought it was the funniest thing in the world.”

“That’s nothing. He... uh regularly shoots his television sets when there’s something on that he doesn’t like.”

“He does what now?” you asked, your eyebrows raised.

“It’s true. He really does things... his own way. That’s how I’d put it.”

“He’s nuts sometimes. Gosh, I just hope I didn’t mess up too bad this time. I know it’s right for me to stand up to my beliefs, but still.”

“I think he’d forgive you almost everything.” Your gaze drifted towards him, your lips pursed.

“I hope so... Do I have to apologise?” you asked, beginning to genuinely think you did something wrong now. He sighed.

“Julie, I know Elvis. Let me just say it would probably be better that way.”

“But do you think I should?”

“He wants to be right, discussing something like this with him won’t get you far.”

You hummed, this wasn’t really the answer you were looking for, but you knew it was all you’d get from him.

“And... uh there were no other incidents today? I didn’t hear anything. You know, about the weird guys Lamar thought he saw earlier today.”

“No, nothing. I guess it was a false alarm.” He shrugged. You couldn’t help the small chuckle that escaped your mouth. This was what started this entire debacle.

“Julie I know what you think, but it’s better to be safe than sorry,” he tried to explain. You hummed again and decidedly pulled off the string you’d been twirling the entire time.

“You’re probably right. I think I’ll go upstairs again and see if he’s calmed down a little. Hopefully he hasn't trashed the damn place. Because who's gonna clean it up?” she asked and pointed both thumbs towards herself.

He let out a little snort. “Alright, take care, Julie,” he said as he watched you get up.

“I will, thanks Jerry.”

With that you turned and made your way back through the foyer, thinking about the upcoming conversation with your boss. It was weird to think about him like that, and you had to remind yourself of that particular fact every now and then. You wandered around the hotel for almost half an hour before building up enough nerve to face him again.

When you finally opened the door to his suite with the key he’d given you, you spotted him sitting on his bed dressed in his silk pyjamas again and fumbling around with his jewellery.

“You’ve calmed down again, sweetheart?” He slowly got up, a rather goofy smile on his face.

“Me?” you asked, pointing to yourself.

“Got quite hysterical when ya left,” he said, approaching you with a grin. You raised your eyebrows, your mouth hanging open for a few seconds.

“I got hysterical?” Was he serious right now? You turned on your heel, your hand on your forehead, the whole apology you had prepared on your way up here now thrown out of the window. He couldn’t mean that now, could he? He followed you and placed his hands on your arms, turning you around, towards him.

“Wait sweetheart, don’t be like that. Come on, it’s okay, Julie baby, I know how women can get. Y’all are more tender hearted,” he said, putting his arms around you and stroking your hair.

You frowned and tried to take a step back, wanting to look at him, but he tightened his grip on you, keeping you in place. You’ve never seen someone with mood swings like him. It was extreme to the point where he could be irrational, one could never know what to expect from him. But don’t question things! You leaned into him, not really knowing if this was meant to comfort you or him.

The way he held himself and the slightly dazed expression in his blue eyes explained how he was so calm. He must have taken his damn pills already, otherwise he wouldn’t be this relaxed after the argument the two of you had. Especially after you stormed off, which must have made him even angrier. Now it seemed almost forgotten as he more and more leaned against you for support.

You desperately wanted to throw away all his medication, the fact that he never really dealt with his emotions and just numbed them was driving you mad, though you weren’t convinced that this alone was responsible for his reactions. His extraordinary talent to twist situations and circumstances so that they’d work in his favour could be a gift for him, but a curse for everyone else. You almost never got to discuss situations like this with him, properly working things out.

“Come on, sit down with me, sweetheart,” he pleaded, holding out his hands.

“Alright,” you replied with a neutral expression, despite still clearly seeing the image of him with that damn gun in front of you.

He led you over to his bed and sat down across from you, engulfing your hands with his bigger ones and hold them tight, taking a deep breath. His mouth opened and closed multiple times before speaking.

“Listen... I’m sorry for getting so angry at you earlier. I-I didn’t want to scare ya. I was just worried. Ya gotta believe me.”

The genuinely remorseful look on his face made your irritation dissipate slightly. You sighed. Communication is key.

“...And I’m sorry for yelling at you, I shouldn’t have done it. I know you mean well, but I was angry as well. Well, frustrated...you know what I think about guns,” you almost whispered, searching his eyes, hoping and praying he’d understand. He looked down and bit his lip, looking a bit bashful.

“...Yeah, I-I know sweetheart. I just can’t bear the thought of something happening to you. When I saw that fucker on top of you, I-I could have killed him.” His face became flushed again at the mere memory. You nodded and just squeezed his hands, knowing that explaining the situation again wouldn’t help. He dropped his head.

“Don’t you understand, Julie? W-What if I lose you?...Who would annoy me all day?” he added, after looking up again with a small smile. You forced a smile to match his while trying to ignore his vulnerability in the former half of the statement.

“Oh, I’m sure you would find someone in a heartbeat. You’re Elvis Presley.” His face grew serious again.

“No. Not someone like you.”

“Elvis..” you whispered, pressing your lips together as you felt your face begin to crumple, the emotions of the whole day finally catching up to you. Did he really mean it or did he want to distract from the actual conversation you were having? You hated how your voice trembled when you spoke up again. “We should really talk about-“ He put his hand on your cheek and watched you with a tender look in his eyes.

“No, you don’t have to say anything. I don’t wanna hear any more of it. I’m just glad we’re getting along again. I don’t like arguing with you.” Well, so much for that.

“Me neither,” you eventually uttered with a small sniffle, your eyes burning. You didn’t know if it felt more like giving in or giving up.

“Oh, sweetheart. It’s okay, it’s okay. It’s all good again. Don’t worry. I-I won’t bother you with this again, okay? It’s all good again. All good.” He mumbled almost meditatively and guided your head to lay against his shoulder, your cheek brushing against his coarse chest hair.

You weren’t convinced of how serious he was about not bringing up the topic again, but for now you’d take it, since he left you no other choice. You knew it must be horrible inside his head and he really couldn’t help the way he was sometimes. He just wanted the best for you. It showed in the way he gently stroked your hair and shushed you, as if soothing a frightened child. And, for the second time that day, you thought you felt the feather light brush of his lips, this time against your temple, as if assuring you that everything was okay. As if he’d read your mind. It made you feel hot and cold at the same time.

Right now you didn’t have the energy to fight against the comforting feeling of his embrace and his affection and just let yourself sink into it. His ability to make you feel completely at ease, his softness, warmth and smell, combined with the rhythmic stroking of his strong hands almost lulled you to sleep.

You felt a sudden calm wash over you, the weird buzzing in your head and the tingling feeling of anxiety on your skin slowly disappearing. The silent promise that everything was going to be alright and that he would take care of everything for you felt like a safety blanket.

“Hey, E?”

He answered with a ‘Hmm?’ and you felt the vibrations of his chest against your cheek.

“Thank you.”

“For what?”

“I don’t know... for being there. The whole thing really stressed me out.”

“Well, you know, Julie baby, I have healing hands,” he said, shrugging as if it was the most normal thing.

“I think so too,” you chuckled. Not ironically, like you did so often. It was genuine this time, The more time you spend with him the more you thought he actually possessed some kind of magic, influencing everyone around him. Sometimes that was really no other explanation. He grinned at you, his eyes twinkling.

“So... what now, magic man?” you asked.

“...We could watch The Godfather again, so you can fawn over Marlon Brando?” He proposed. You laughed.

“You know, every day I regret it a little bit more that I told you about this silly childhood crush.”

“When I asked you, you said he was your favourite actor,” he retorted a tad accusingly, a little pout on his face to emphasize his point.

“Yes, I realise my mistake now,” you said with a hand over your heart, feigning shock.

After a few seconds though you weren’t able to hold your back your laughter and an involuntary giggle escaped you. He started smiling as well, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes. You now knew you had actually bruised his ego with that statement back then. He asked you this particular question only a few days after you met him and you naively answered with the first thing that came to mind, not really knowing the gravity of it. Not really knowing... him. How important these things were for him. Looking back, it was definitely some kind of test that you failed miserably, and he made sure to remind you of that faux pas every now and then, probably still a bit offended and wounded.

“... Do you want me to read to you again? Maybe... um you can try to go to sleep a little earlier tonight, what do you think?” you offered, trying to change the subject. Thankfully he bought into it.

“Mhm.. you always take such good care of me. Like a mama.”

“Well, thanks for that,” you answered, a bit unsure if the second part was really a compliment or not. He scooted closer, laying his head on your shoulder and throwing an arm around your middle, his hand finding its place at your waist.

“...No, I mean it, Julie. I-I really admire that about ya.” He raised his head again, looking deeply into your eyes. “A-And I don’t think I tell ya enough,” he whispered and squeezed your sides.

You felt your pulse quicken and let out a shuddering breath. Was it nervousness? Was it the stress? Was it anticipation? Excitement? There was certainly no denying that you liked the way his hands felt on your body.

“I’m sorry if I’m like this to you sometimes. I-I can’t always help it... My head is just so fucked up sometimes I know I can be a nasty asshole... I just w-want you to know what you mean to me,” he stammered with a frown. You knew it was hard for him to get these words out and you adored and hated him for saying them out loud.

“Elvis, you aren’t any of those things. And-“

He closed his eyes and gently nuzzled his nose against yours, making you stop mid sentence. He was so incredibly tender with you, even the fact that the tip of his nose was nearly freezing due to the cool room temperature didn’t deter you from leaning into his touch.

“...Yes, I am. I’m a selfish bastard who can’t even keep an agreement he made. A promise to the woman he adores.”

Every rational thought you had was thrown out of the window at this. The only thing you knew, felt, was him. This pull between you two had been there from the beginning and you so desperately fought against it. There had been many instances, many battles where you almost surrendered yourself to him, but you always managed to put your rational thoughts first.

Now, with his strong hands on your body, his beautiful face so close that you could feel his hot breath over your lips and the words that just slipped past his marshmallow ones, you felt something snap within you.

You leaned forward and eagerly pressed your lips against his, a surprised squeal escaping you at the same time. You were about to pull back and apologise, but that thought was quickly thrown out the window when you felt him kissing you back fiercely.

The bed under you creaked when he shifted his weight, moving to lay almost on top of you. His chains dangled from his wide chest and you reached around to pull him even closer to you. He complied and leaned down even further, his rounded belly now pressing up against you. A gasp escaped you at the feeling of his weight pushing you down into the mattress, utterly trapped and at his mercy.

One of his ring clad hands moved up from your hip to gently cup your cheek. The cool metal felt good on your burning skin and you felt Elvis smiling into the kiss. His lips were so incredibly soft and hot as they sloppily worked against yours and you weren’t able to form one coherent thought. When his hot, wet tongue slipped out to trace over your bottom lip you couldn’t contain a little groan.

You reached up to tread your fingers through the coarse hair on his chest, stroking up and down, while he tightened his grip on your waist. The contradicting roughness you felt against your hands versus the wonderful softness against your lips was an intoxicating combination. It was just so very him. He pulled away from you, allowing you to catch your breath and you looked at each other, breathing heavily.

“...Elvis, this isn’t good,” you whispered, a half-hearted attempt to stop him. To stop yourself. Both.

He licked his lips and trailed a lazy finger over your hip.

“Ya don’t like this?” he asked, looking at you from beneath his shades incredulously.

“Oh god...I- I do,” you stammered helplessly after he had rubbed soothing circles over your hip for almost a minute.

He smiled and leaned down to bury his face against your neck, peppering soft, sweet kisses along your pulse point, making you giggle. Then you felt his warm hand gliding under your shirt, pushing the fabric upwards until your bra was exposed. His attack on your neck stopped and he leaned back to watch you, biting his lip. What a pretty picture you were for him, with your face wonderfully flushed, biting your lip and breathing heavily. Your face grew even more hot under his intense gaze and the way he licked his lips and smirked down at you sent shock waves to your core. You quickly pulled the shirt over your head and dropped it onto the floor next to the bed. Ugh, still too hot.

“Lord have mercy,” he breathed, as he watched your chest rise and fall quickly with every laboured breath you took. He cupped one breast in each hand and his lip curled, a hint of mischief in his eyes.

“Ladies, you two look real fun. You can be my new best friends,” he cooed as he squeezed them together and leaned down to nuzzle into them with a playful growl. You laughed and the motion made them jiggle, much to his delight.

“E, you’re being silly,” you giggled.

“No, I’m being serious. I need to play with these before every show now. Will ya let me? Best stress balls ever, I’ll tell ya.”

“You are impossible. Can’t take you nowhere,” you replied with a grin and gently stroked his cheek.

“Let an old man have some fun, Julie baby,” he mumbled with a smile. He softly kissed your collarbone before carefully hoisting you up, his hands on your back, to unclasp your bra with his nimble fingers.

You let out a surprised ‘Oh!’ when he hastily pulled the undergarment off you and tossed it onto the floor. His eyes roamed over your form for what felt like hours, a mix of appreciation and concentration in his gaze, as if trying to memorize every little detail. It made you throw your arms over your face, a weak attempt to hide the fact that you were as red as a tomato. He clicked his tongue and reached up, wanting to move your arms away, finding it incredibly cute how flustered you were. He gently ran his fingers over your skin.

“Sweetheart, let me look at you,” he sang.

You stubbornly refused to let him see you and possibly laugh at you, and he quickly realised you wouldn’t budge. He smirked as he decided to alter his tactic. You felt his hands wandering downwards along you neck, over your chest and onto your stomach. He briefly paused there, his fingers drumming against your skin, before beginning to tickle your sides which caused you to squeal and laugh so hard that your stomach started to ache.

“E, stop!” you finally gasped, trying to catch your breath.

Eventually you moved your arms and swatted away his bold, exploring hands, making him grin triumphantly.

“You’re not playing fair!” you laughed.

“All is fair in love and war. Never heard of that?”

You wanted nothing more than to wipe that goofy, smug grin off his face when he leaned down to kiss the tip of your nose.

“...You’re such a pretty baby.” He whispered and rubbed his cheek against yours, reminding you of a cat, his sideburns tickling you. “Pretty, pretty, pretty.”

He mumbled into your cheek over and over again and you wrapped your arms around his wide frame. His hips started to move, slowly thrusting up against you in a steady pace and wetness pooled between your legs when you felt him growing against your clothed cunt. You let out a high pitched moan and his soft tongue licked a long stripe across your cheek in response. He felt your nails digging into his back, your fingers cramping and he softly whined against your ear, making you throb even more. God, it had to be a criminal offence to make such sounds.

You eagerly moved your hands to open the buttons of his deep v neck shirt, needing to see, feel his chest and stomach in their entire glory. It also felt unfair that you were almost naked and he was still fully clothed. After the first two buttons were open, you slipped your hand inside and stroked his soft belly. Suddenly he jolted away as if he’d burned himself. You drew back your hand and saw some of the insecurity you’d seen earlier this day flash in his eyes. But then it was gone again as quickly as it came and instead a stern look took over his beautiful features.

“Sweetheart, no,” he said determinedly.

“Why not?” you whined and reached out to fumble with the remaining buttons. He grasped your hands in his and lifted them to his mouth, kissing the back of them two, three, four times.

“...This is about you,” he muttered as he released your hands and moved to caress your bare stomach. You got the impression this statement wasn’t entirely true.

“But-“

“No buts, stubborn little lady.” He shook his head, his eyes trained on his fingers as they traced invisible patterns around your belly button.

“What happened to you liking it when I take care of you?” you pouted while lightly playing with his chains that were still dangling over you.

He reached up to brush some hair from your face and caressed your cheekbones with his knuckles.

“Please, Julie... let me show you,” he whispered with a sudden urgency in his voice, his eyes shining pleadingly under the tinted glass.

You removed his shades to get a better look at them. His deep blue eyes were almost completely black, pupils blown wide with desire, but there was also this intense vulnerability again, which overwhelmed you every time. You could tell how important this was for him right now and slowly nodded. Then you leaned forward and planted a quick kiss against his lips, which he almost anxiously returned, one hand coming up to softly knead your breast.

He eventually pulled away from you and moved down your body, gently kissing each pebbled nipple once, making you arch up against his skilled mouth before he trailed feather-light kisses along your stomach. He sat down between your legs and his hands skimmed over your hips until they stopped at the waistband of your pants. He briefly lifted you up, his hands on your butt and began to pull them down slowly. You watched with anticipation as he exposed more and more of your bare skin in slow motion, his eyebrows furrowed in concentration again. He did that a lot.

After your legs were finally completely bare under his praising eyes, he ran his hands up and down along them, whistling appreciatively. Then he gripped the back of your left knee and lifted it until your calf rested on his shoulder.

“Your legs, sweetheart,” he groaned and tapped against your thigh. “When I see you striding around with these in your lil’ platforms... Lordy, I just wanna be wrapped up in them. Every. Damn. Time.”

He turned his head and brushed his lips across your calf, the possessive grip on the back of your knee not faltering and his hot breath causing goosebumps to form on your skin. He pushed your knee back towards you until his soft mouth arrived at your ankle. Then he pulled off your shoes and tossed them off the bed, making them clatter as they landed next to the rest of your discarded clothes.

You raised your head when you felt his teeth grazing your skin, gently biting down on your ankle. He briefly kissed the light bite marks and moved up your calf again. The way his eyes were closed in bliss and his breathing ragged was almost too much for you to handle and you threw your head back into the pillow. He almost seemed to enjoy this more than you, the thought making you feel even warmer inside.

You promptly sat up again and wrapped your arms around his neck, needing to feel his velvety lips against yours again after the rest of your body got so much sweet attention from them. You held onto the hair at his neck when you felt his tongue lazily gliding over your bottom lip and moved your hips against his, feeling the slight bulge in his trousers. You reached down, your hand gliding over his crotch, feeling him half hard against your palm. He swiftly caught your wrist and brought it up to his cheek, shaking his head.

“Nuh uh, Julie baby, forget it. I already told you, this is about you. You really gotta to learn how to listen,” he chuckled, fingers gently tugging at your earlobe. “Now lie back, sweetheart, let me take care of ya. I’ll handle it.”

He hummed, his big hand sprawled across your chest, gently forcing you back against the pillow. You wordlessly stared at him as he moved back between your legs, his gaze lingering on the panties you still wore. He leaned down to get a better look at them and hooked his fingers under the waistband, toying with it.

After briefly meeting your eyes again and taking in your flushed face, he pulled them down, his hands grazing over your legs again. Your toes curled when he bunched your panties up in his fist with a grin.

“Sweetheart, these are soaked. Why didn’t ya say anything? Cat got your tongue again?” he cooed. You answered by wrapping your leg around his back, pulling him closer to you.

“Oh, I see we’re eager today, Julie baby? No words, just straight to the point. Hold on, let’s see what I can do about that,” he rumbled and lightly kissed along your inner thigh, getting closer and closer to your glistening pussy.

Just when you thought he’d pay attention to where you needed him most, he moved away again and started peppering your other thigh with sweet kisses and kitten licks.

“E! I swear-” you moaned, and tightened your leg around him, growing more and more impatient with him, the throbbing in your core nearly driving you insane.

“Oh, now she can talk again. What do you want, sweetheart?” he mumbled as he rubbed his cheek against your skin, barely able to conceal the smile tugging at his lips.

“That tickles, stop!” you laughed and moved to scoot away from him, but his hands quickly shot out to grab your hips, effectively holding you still.

You held onto the satin bed sheet when his mouth moved over the supple flesh of your thigh again, kissing and sucking at the soft skin there, surely leaving one or two hickeys. After for what felt like hours, you finally felt his hot breath ghosting over your clit, the tingling feeling in your lower belly growing stronger. You wanted to thrust up to him, desperate for any sort of friction, but found that he still had your hips in an iron grip, his fingers digging almost painfully into your skin. Each time you attempted to free yourself he tightened his hold, making it impossible to move. A whimper escaped you when he softly kissed your folds, his nose bumping into your mound.

“Quit the teasing!” you cried out, and he smirked up at you like he was having the time of his life.

“Julie baby, why are you so impatient? I told ya I’ll take care of ya,” he reminded you and licked a long stripe along your clit after deeply inhaling your scent. It made you throw your arm over your face again and you bit your hand to muffle the moans escaping you when he began to gently suckle at your sensitive nub.

One of his hands moved up to your breast and began to fondle it again, lightly pinching your nipple. You felt like your whole body was on fire, sweat forming on your forehead and you desperately wished someone would drop a bucket of ice water over you. Elvis’ moans and grunts, combined with the wet slurping noises made your ears ring and your legs began shaking from pleasure. You placed a hand over his, still gently massaging your breast and squeezed, encouraging him to increase the pressure, making him hiss.

“Damn, sweetheart... You’re so fucking wet, baby,” he grunted, voice muffled as he was still buried between your legs.

You slowly felt your orgasm approaching and grabbed onto his hair, desperate for something to ground you. You pushed his face harder against your pussy, his skilled tongue greedily trying to catch every last drop of your arousal and you nearly passed out when you suddenly felt him insert two fingers into your hole. You moaned and arched against him, your fingers and toes flexing uncontrollably when he curled his fingers inside you, his lips sucking on your clit even harder than before.

“E, fuck, I’m gonna cum,” you just managed to get out before shockwaves of pleasure rolled over you, a feeling of weightlessness in your bones. It only spurred him on as he continued throughout your orgasm, desperate to get each and every little sound out of you.

When you started wriggling against him from overstimulation he pulled away from you with a stupid grin plastered on his face and withdrew his fingers, making you shudder once again. He gleefully put them in his mouth, sucking off remains of you.

“Ya taste so sweet, I can’t get enough of that.” You attempted to lean up on your elbows to kiss him, but found that your muscles were still rather limp. “Was that alright, Julie baby? Did I make ya feel good?”

“E, are you joking? You’re the best.” You smiled, your fingers ghosting over his lips. “What about you, though?” His warm mouth engulfed your finger, briefly sucking on it.

“Mmh, if I only knew before that it was that easy to tame ya.”

“Don’t get cheeky now, Presley,” you huffed.

“Ah, there she is again. I might just-“ He lazily grinned and slipped his hand between your legs to cup your overstimulated pussy again, making you jump.

“God!” you gasped when he drew back his hand and smiled innocently, while you playfully glared at him. You reached up and played with his collar. “...But really... let me take care of you now.”

“Nah, it’s alright, sweetheart... Little Elvis is more than happy to see ya, believe me. But he’s just a bit tired today, it was a long day. Ya understand that, right?” You hesitantly nodded.

“...Okay, E. Next time,” you mumbled and gently ran your hand through his hair. He laid down his head on your thigh and absentmindedly began drawing patterns on your lower belly again, lips puckered as if deep in thought.

After a while, his eyes grew more and more heavy and you watched him battle his sleepiness. It gave you time to begin reflecting on what had happened and you quickly found that it gave you a massive headache. Was this a one-time occasion? Was it a slip-up? Would it become a regular thing? You had just muttered something about a next time without thinking. Lord have mercy!

As long as you weren’t sure about the nature of this new layer in your relationship with him you weren’t to eager to let anyone else know. That’s something you were sure about. The only thing.

You shifted slightly, your current position not at all comfortable, which caused Elvis to rouse again. He gave you a sleepy smile and clumsily crawled on top of you again, eyes half lidded and dazed.

“God, what are we going to do now?” you thought out loud.

“Mmmh, I wanna cuddle with ya,” he muttered and smushed his lips against yours with a loud smack.

“...We can’t tell no one.” you whispered, regaining your senses and staring up at the ceiling. He hummed.

“...Whatever you say, Mommy,” he cooed and buried his face in your neck as his soft stomach pressed up against your side once more, his weight on top of you immediately comforting.

“I mean it, E,” you insisted, hoping he’d manage to be serious for just a moment. He wasn’t really known for being good at keeping secrets.

“Mhm. Me too. Lordy, you’re so soft and warm, sweetheart,” he slurred and closed his eyes after a quick peck to your neck.

You sighed with a smile and pressed a kiss against his forehead while wrapping your arms around him and holding him tight. There was no use in overthinking the situation right now. He smiled into your neck, still distinctly thinking about the sounds you made while he pleasured you. It felt like a lullaby.

You made a mental note to have this particular talk with him in the morning. Or, technically, afternoon and hoped he would understand.

“Good night, darling,” you murmured and dosed off with your hand resting on his chest, feeling, monitoring, his steady breathing like every night. Except everything was different now.

#elvis presley #elvis #big daddy elvis #elvis x reader #elvis presley x reader #elvis fanfic #ellie writes

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rkdhsdl · 9 months

Text

friend or foe?

word count: 481 gender neutral reader character(s): colby frey TW/CW: none writer's notes: hi guys im back with a new fic while i write this in 2 am lmao enjoy!

“it’s slightly odd that it’s difficult to see (y/n) recently, no?” ivy raises a finger to her chin as she thinks.

daniel nods as he sets his bag down onto the seat of the armchair in the common room.

“it’s unlike them, but i’m guessing that they’ve made new friends?”

the white haired girl smiles as she considers her friend’s response. maybe daniel was right– you just had made some friends. all she hopes is that you didn’t start your merry friendship with someone dangerous or spiteful.

and just when ivy was about to comment on his response, you barge in the room, a bright smile painted onto your face, ears, cheeks and nose cool from the cold weather outside.

“what’s got you so ebullient in the evening?” daniel questions, eyebrows raising in curiosity.

you chortle in amusement as you raise your index finger to your lips, singing, “a secret~”

ivy turns to you as she takes your scarf, folding it as you walk over to one of the other armchairs, fully resting as your face returns back to its warmth.

as the girl returns your scarf, she sits on the larger couches as she asks a curious question in her mind.

“have you made new friends?”

opening your eyes, you nod smiling.

“i’ve made a good friend, he’s actually much nicer than i anticipated…”

daniel quirks an eyebrow when he hears your answer, crossing his arms.

“he? is your friend a boy?”

“mhm! quite the nice fellow once i got to know him.”

ivy, surmising that it could be someone they know, suggests names.

“theodore?”

you shake your head in response, as ivy looks down as she thinks again.

“it better not be one of the frey twins– or both.” daniel comments, voice laced with distaste, only to widen his eyes when he hears you laugh uncertainly.

“(y/n), do not tell me that you made friends with the frey twins. do no-”

“actually,” you speak, dragging out the consonants, “it’s only colby, not fischer– i swear that colby’s nicer than his brother, promise!”

daniel sighs as he raises a hand to the bridge of his nose, pinching it as he sighs in disappointment.

“alright. tell us if he does anything suspicious.”

you chuckle at your friend’s protectiveness as you nod.

you come back to your dorm as you plop onto your bed, hugging your pillow as you recall the ‘date’ you had with colby– maybe he wasn’t that bad after all, he was surprisingly a gentleman! but maybe, just perhaps, you’d want to keep more of your little outings in the future to yourself. daniel and ivy were getting more specific with their questions in relation to colby.

you think to go to sleep, but the constant giggles slipping out and restlessness you felt had just made your excitement for your future trip with colby much more intense.

#hpma x reader #hpma #colby frey x reader #colby frey

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writingforstraykids · 4 months

Text

Addicted to you - Chp.13

Pairing: Minchan

Word Count: 4482

Summary: Back home, Minho decides to make the best out of his break and opens up to his mother about the past events. After finding some letters his friends wrote him, he calls Jisung. It takes him a week to finally open Chan's letter, which seems to change everything...

Warnings/Tags: fluff, angst, jisung is too nosy for his own good, emotional hurt/comfort

Chp.12 | Chp. 14

A thousand miles away from the day that we started

But I'm standing here with you, just trying to be honest

If honesty means telling you the truth

Well, I'm still in love with you

Still ~ Niall Horan

Minho had been back at his parents’ home for the last three days. Upon his stay, his mother cautiously asked if all this had anything to do with Chan. Though he probably could’ve lied to his mom, Minho simply couldn’t stop hiding it anymore. He told his mother everything on day two. From how it all started, what Chan had said to him, what happened the day after, and even how his actions harmed himself more than anyone else in the process. He opened up about how much it hurt him since Chan was his first time and first actual lover. He told her how much they struggle to trust each other right now, but can't stay away from one another for too long. Minho went on to tell her about his insecurities kicking in, how he began questioning himself, and his constant fear of failure. He also told her about the night he stopped Chan from leaving, what had happened with Felix and Chan turning up in front of his door a few days later.

His mother had been patiently listening, letting him ramble on until there were no more words left. "I thought something might've happened when Felix said you stopped taking care of yourself. And once I thought about it, it only made sense it was about Chan. You know, usually, he checks in every two weeks, asks if we need anything, how I'm doing, and tells me about you."

Minho had blinked at her surprised. "He does what? I call you every two weeks, why would he..?"

She had smiled at him knowingly. "One of the last times you came home to visit, I told you I'd love to hear from you more often. But I knew it may be hard because of your work schedule. Since you call every first and third week of the month, he took it to heart and started calling every second and fourth week. That way, he filled the gaps for me whenever you were busy." Minho had been too stunned to speak at her revelation, mouth open in shock as she continued. "Anyway, he stopped calling weeks ago, and I thought maybe he was busy. When you missed your call a week later, I thought the same. But then I saw you collapsing during that performance, and still, he didn't call. But Felix did…and I got a bad feeling. He usually calls me when something major has happened."

Minho sighed softly and turned on his side, staring out his window. So Chan had been checking in on his mother all this time, and he never had a clue.

Of course he was…

Spotting his suitcase in a corner of his room, he groaned softly and got up, finally ready to unpack. He threw it on the bed and sat down, opening it up. His clothes were neatly folded, and on top of it was a small plushie he recognized as Jeongin's. "You're too sweet sometimes," he chuckled to himself and placed it on his bed before looking back. He noticed three small balls and realized they were the ones Chan had bought for his cats to take home. Minho took them out gently and smiled sadly at them. He had promised him to take a video of his cats playing with them. There were also some of his favorite snacks in his suitcase, including those damn cookies only Chan knew he loved. He spotted a small box and curiously looked at the piece of paper resting on top.

"Open when you need a reminder to believe in yourself"

He took a moment to consider his thoughts, before ultimately choosing to open it now. There were lots of small pieces of paper with words of encouragement and sweet messages in his friend’s handwriting. "That's so sweet," he said to himself and put it on his nightstand.

Once he had taken out his clothes, he spotted a small package and took that out as well, frowning. He sat back down and opened it, taking out seven envelopes with the names of his members written on them. Minho frowned, took Felix's from the top, and opened it, revealing a handwritten letter addressed to him. "No, they didn't," he breathed out surprised, and checked the other envelopes, pulling out letter after letter from his second family. He started reading them and couldn't stop smiling at all the sweet, thoughtful messages they had written, encouraging him and telling him they missed him. Promising that they'd be there to support him coming back, that a whole month without him would feel awful, and how much they hoped he'd be able to rest. All of them promised to call and visit whenever they could. Minho hadn't felt this warm and loved in a while and promised himself to keep those letters stored somewhere he could reread them whenever he needed to. His fingers brushed over the last envelope with Chan's name on it, and for a moment, he considered opening it. Then he put it aside and decided to look at it another time before dialing Jisung's number, who picked up almost immediately.

"Hey, Hannie," he said softly.

"Minho, I was just thinking about you," he told him happily. "How are you?"

"I'm getting there," he decided to be honest. "My knee's still fucked, my mental health probably as well, but at least I started eating again."

"That's good to hear. The eating part," he added, chuckling. "How have your first three days of exile been?"

"It's been alright. Spending time with my mum and my cats is something I really missed," he told him. "Also, Felix stayed for a day, so I haven't been alone for that long," he giggled.

"Right," he laughed.

"I'm so sorry we didn't have time to talk before I left. How are you feeling?" he asked, and Jisung was quiet for a moment. "You can be honest; I can take it."

"To be honest, I'm a little anxious at the moment. The past few weeks have been wild," he admitted, and Minho hummed softly. "I hope you can forgive me for suggesting a break."

"Hannie, it's fine," he told him sincerely.

"I never thought they'd say a month," he confessed nervously.

"Me neither, dear," he groaned softly. "A month is way too long. I'll bribe Chan with something to let me come back when I get too bored here."

"Just smile at him. That's enough right now," he grinned.

"You think so?" he giggled.

"Oh come on, as soon as he's in his right mind, you have him wrapped around your finger, Min," he laughed. "Are you two okay?"

Minho sighed heavily. "I wish I could answer that, but it's a mess. I guess we both don't really know yet, but it seems like we both want this to end happily."

"Meaning you getting back together?" he asked.

"We've never actually… never mind. I guess that's the destination," he shrugged. "But back to you, you've been feeling anxious?"

"It's just…I feel calmer knowing you're here at the front during a performance or interview. You pick up on a panic attack way sooner than I do. That makes me feel safe," he told him honestly.

Minho smiled sadly. "You're not alone, Hannie. Felix notices as well…and Channie knows how to deal with it and help you through. Just like he did that one time I had the flu and couldn't be there."

"Yeah, you're probably right," he nodded.

"I'm sorry for being such an ass those past few weeks. I know you only tried to help me take care of myself, and I didn't always appreciate it," he told him. "I want you to know that I'm really proud of you, and I'm thankful to have you as my friend.”

"Don't be so sweet, you're making me emotional," he told him, laughing softly. "Did you read my letter?"

"I did," Minho nodded.

"Then you know I'm not mad at you," he said gently. "I love you a lot, and I hope one day soon you'll be able to realize how amazing you are."

Minho smiled and playfully rolled his eyes. "Who's being sweet now?" Jisung started laughing and told him to fuck off. "But seriously, you can call if it gets bad. And if you're too exhausted to talk, I can just talk shit and show you what my cats are doing."

Jisung giggled softly. "That would be nice…Can I see right now?"

"Sure thing," he nodded and got up, calling Soonie over to him. He picked him up, switched to a video call, and got comfortable in bed again. "Say hi to Hannie," he said, waving his paw.

Jisung giggled and waved back. "Hii Soonie, you're happy Minho's back?"

Minho glanced at his cat, who seemed unbothered, and chuckled. "Not much of a talker, are you?" he smirked as Soonie curled up on his chest comfortably and scratched his head.

"Man, you look exhausted," he said, and Minho contorted his face.

"I know, it's fucking bad. My dad already made about a hundred jokes about it trying to cheer me up," he laughed. "I miss our makeup artists already."

"As if they could fix that," he snorted. "You said it yourself, you have to be born beautiful."

"Handsome people get exhausted sometimes, alright?" he quipped back, and Jisung grinned. "How's your love life going? I think we've all been focusing too much on my fucked up one."

"Way to go, hyung," he giggled. "Everything's fine. No strings attached, as you know."

"They're taking good care of you?" he asked.

"Oh, you know our maknae loves to be a tease. Seungmin's there for lazy kisses and cuddles. And Jinnie…," Jisung blushed heavily, and Minho started laughing.

"Alright, I don't need to know how he is in bed, but judging by yours and Felix's reaction to that question, I'd say good," he grinned.

"I think you're the only one of us who's more flexible than-."

"Hannie!" he protested.

"Sorry," he giggled. "I couldn't help but ask Felix since he got a taste of you both."

"You're so nasty," he scrunched his nose softly. "And too nosy for your own good."

"You've been having sex in the practice room, Min. That floor was supposed to be covered with hard-earned sweat only," he told him.

"Who said I didn't work hard for it, huh?" he asked, and now it was Jisung's turn to protest.

"So you're a bottom?" he asked curiously.

"I guess I am," he shrugged.

"Huh."

"What's that supposed to mean?" he asked offended.

"I just never thought of you as one," he admitted. "I kind of could imagine Chan more as it…but then also not."

"He had the experience, I just went with it," he shrugged, laughing. "Who knows? Maybe I'm an amazing top when I'm not with Chan."

"I'd let you test that theory whenever you like," he told him absentmindedly, just letting his thoughts casually roll off his tongue. But he soon realized what he said and his eyes widened in shock. "Fuck, sorry."

Minho's eyes widened as well at his comment. He took a moment to regain his voice, and his composure. "Han Jisung, that's a whole different conversation we'll have once things with Chan are settled."

"Yes, hyung," he said sheepishly and buried his face in his hand, laughing. "God, Jeongin is right, I talk without thinking sometimes."

"He's one to talk," he rolled his eyes. "He calls me mum after I scold him for not listening to me, I’m starting to think he's doing that on purpose…don't answer that. Also, to answer your question before, just ask Felix; he knows."

"God, let's change the topic, I know too much," Jisung whined. "How did your mum take it?"

"She already had a feeling this had something to do with Chan," he told him, glad to change topics as well. "She's worried because she knows how in love I still am with him."

"Who can blame you? When he's not talking shit, he's the perfect boyfriend material," he nodded. "Besides his workaholic tendencies, maybe."

Minho giggled softly. "I'll put him off caffeine, he has trouble sleeping without it already."

"It's a vicious cycle," Jisung hummed, agreeing. "But anyway-“ He was interrupted by someone in his background. “What? Tell him I'm talking to Min!"

"Stop messing around! We were supposed to be at the company half an hour ago," Changbin could be heard in the back.

"Again?" he rolled his eyes softly. "My brain's empty."

"Tell that to Chan, now move it," Changbin laughed and appeared in the picture. "Hi, Minho hyung."

"Hi," he chuckled. "Off you go, Hannie."

"Fine," he groaned and rolled his eyes. They exchanged their goodbyes, and Minho giggled softly once the call ended. A talk with Jisung never left him disappointed.

It took Minho a week to finally open Chan's letter. He was eating more or less normally again, getting more sleep, and having long talks with his mother about love and his life. His father was pulling him back to reality, telling him he’d have to pursue his dream regardless and not let his own insecurities stop him. By now, he had talked to everyone at least once besides Chan, and he started missing him a little. So after finding his glasses he made himself comfortable in bed and opened the last envelope with Chan's name on it.

“Dear Minho,

I hope you're already doing a little better once you get our messages. At first, I wasn't sure if I should write one myself, but it would've felt wrong not to. I know I'm to blame for how you feel, for the things you're dealing with right now, and for your current insecurity. I wish I could tell you everything in person, but somehow, we keep making it worse whenever we try to talk, so here we go:”

Minho looked up and took a moment to think if he wanted to continue reading the letter today. What if it only confuses him more about their situation? He took a deep breath as his eyes fell back on the page before he knew it.

“I don't know why, but the thought of the others finding out scared me. Maybe because deep down, I'm scared that someone won't approve of us, and it would make things complicated for all of us. Maybe because I'm scared they can't keep their mouths shut in public, and we'll get in trouble if the press finds out. I could've said anything to answer Jeongin's question, saying we're working on new songs or something. But I chose to talk shit about you instead to save myself. Believe me, I still don’t understand my logic behind that either. When you suddenly stood behind me, and I realized you heard every word, I panicked even more, knowing I hurt you.

I wished we could've told them about us differently. But I don't blame you for doing it. When you told them what really happened that night, I snapped. I didn't have my feelings under control. And I know I would've had to tell them at some point, but not like that. I can't say I'm okay with how it happened, but again I don't blame you. You were only reacting to my bullshit, and I clearly pissed you off. I know I said I needed time to work on that, but I know that deep down, I forgave you the night you took my hand and held me close when I needed someone. I can't be mad at you for telling them. It was only fair that they knew the truth.

Even though things have been going on for a year between the two of us, I never thought much beyond the casual kissing and having sex aspect of it. Don't get me wrong, you mean so much more to me than that. But maybe my fear stopped me from imagining anything beyond that. You probably have because deep down, you're a little romantic, and you always got so adorably excited when we did anything normal couples do. I promised you to stand up for the two of us and fight for what we have, but the moment a friend asked, I failed you miserably. I've never been in a relationship before, especially due to the ban. I've decided to stick with casual sex from now and then, but you know that already. Maybe that's why I kept that mindset even though I knew you meant much more to me than anyone else before.”

Minho had to take a break, putting the pages on his mattress and staring out the window. Had he been naive to think about all of this, imagining how happy they could be someday? Rereading the passage, he realized that Chan had been thinking about him as much as he did, maybe even more. But Chan had been too scared actually to do so. So, technically, he hadn't been the only one.

“I don't know if you can ever forgive me for what I said, but I am truly sorry. I never saw you that way. You're not cold, you've always given a fuck about my feelings when others didn’t, and I know you'd never use me. I'm so sorry I even thought differently about it. Minho baby-“

Minho closed his eyes for a moment and took a deep breath at that all too familiar name he had heard in different settings before. He tried not to think about them too much and resumed reading.

“Minho baby, you're kind and loving and funny, and gosh, I love making you laugh. You're so caring you often think of yourself last. Everyone knows you have their back. You're incredibly talented, and I wouldn't want to lead this team with anyone else than you by my side. Min, you're beautiful inside and out, and it's killing me that I'm the one making you doubt that. You once told me I'm your safe place, and I'm sorry for taking that from you. I don't know if you'll ever forgive me, but I'm ready if or when you do. No matter how we end up, I'll always be there for you. I'll always listen to your worries and make sure you're okay.

I really hope we can go back to normal one day. But until then, I want you to know all of the above. Please take your time and get some rest, you deserve it.

I love you.

Forever yours,

Channie

PS: The following three pages are what I’ve written for our upcoming one-year “anniversary”. If you don’t feel up for getting showered with stupidly sweet shit, just put them aside for now.”

Minho couldn't stop rereading that last passage, trying to wrap his head around it. His fingers shakily brushed over the last three lines, and he felt his eyes brimming with tears. He cursed at himself, not believing how awfully emotional he was at the letter. Inhaling deeply, he flipped the page and read the additional letter Chan wrote. He was crying by the time he was done, feeling a bitter-sweet mixture of being incredibly loved and missing Chan like hell.

Minho grabbed his phone and the letter, sitting down at the window sill and rereading the whole thing three times. Once he was done, he grabbed his phone, and before he knew it, he was already calling him. It had been over a week since they last talked. Thinking back to that day after reading that letter, he missed him so much. He missed his hugs; he missed his soothing voice, he missed his familiar smell.

Chan picked up after a few seconds, sounding a little out of breath. "Hey, what's up?" he asked and took a few steps back, watching the others continue practicing the dance. They had just gotten back from their first few days of promotion abroad and got right back to work. Chan knew they had to tackle upcoming performances a little differently now that their main dancer was missing.

"Channie," Minho sniffled, and Chan's heart sank. "Do you have a minute?"

"Uh, we're in the middle of dance practice-," he started, glancing around the room and bringing more distance between himself and the other members.

Minho nodded to himself and pulled up his knees to his chest, resting his head on them. "Don't worry, go on," he cut him off.

"No, I - give me a moment, okay? I'll call you back," Chan promised and ended the call before he could answer. Chan quickly organized his members to go on without him before rushing up the stairs to his room. He changed out of his sweaty clothes and flopped down on his bed, calling Minho back. Minho picked up soon, and Chan put the phone to his ear. "Hey."

"Hey," Minho answered quietly.

"What's going on? You don't sound good," Chan started out gently. He wondered why he'd call him and not Felix or Han.

"I-I found the letters a few days ago. I read them and they made me a little emotional," he confessed sheepishly.

"Oh, okay, makes sense," Chan nodded and felt relief swapping over him. Nothing bad happened in that case. "Wait, you read them a few days ago?"

"Mhm," he hummed. "I read yours today."

"Oh," he chuckled nervously.

"Did you mean it?" he asked timidly. Unconsciously, he drew in a breath and held it in, awaiting his response.

There was a moment of silence that made Minho nervous. But Chan just needed a second to realize that he was talking about his letter. "Every single word."

"You're very confusing. I hope you know that."

"How so?" he asked calmly, promising himself to try his best to fix this no matter what Minho would say.

Minho chuckled softly and looked at the sunset outside, painting the sky in beautiful hues of pink and yellow. "I don't know what to believe anymore because you were sweet and loving one day, then you pushed me away and said some nasty stuff the next…and now this." The older one hummed gently, not quite knowing what to say. "I forgive you, Channie, I really do. I know I didn't help the situation much by pushing you into a corner. And I'm sorry about the slap, even though you deserved that…and that stupid juice."

Chan didn't know if he should laugh at that last bit or feel relieved about Minho forgiving him. "I know I haven't been easy to be around lately, but what I wrote in that letter came from my heart. You can believe in that."

Minho chewed on his lower lip, sniffling softly as a single tear rolled down his cheek. "Promise?"

"I promise I mean every single word," Chan assured him very gently. "I…I want you to be mine, Minho. I want to make this work for us, even if it's a secret for now because of our career. I want to be better for you because you don't deserve the mess I am currently."

"I'm a mess myself, Channie," he told him.

"It doesn't make me adore you any less," he told him. If Minho could see Chan now, he could see the sincerity in his expression, the want in his eyes. "I'm serious, I want to hold your hand and kiss you in front of our friends. I want to have secret dates with you, I want you to meet my family but not as my friend. I want you back, Min. And I want do right by you because that’s what you deserve."

He closed his eyes in defeat, pushed his glasses up in his hair and buried his face in his knees, quietly crying into the fabric of his sweatpants. "I really miss you, you know," he pressed out.

Hearing Minho’s voice and the sadness in his tone, Chan made a decision then and there, getting up and grabbing a backpack, stuffing some things into it. "I miss you too, so much," he said softly, his heart breaking at how vulnerable Minho sounded. He scribbled a note for his members and put it on the kitchen table before leaving the house, quietly closing the door behind himself. A little later, he was still on the phone with him in a cab.

"You actually think we can keep this a secret?" he asked, suddenly having doubts himself.

"There'll always be rumors no matter what we do," he told him. "We'll just continue to ignore them…or have fun giving them more to gossip about."

Minho giggled a little at that. "You have a point…especially with that new dance. I shouldn't listen to Felix and Hyunjin when they have another 'fun idea'."

"I think it'll be fun," he chuckled.

"You always think it's fun when you have me pressed against you," Minho said smoothly.

"You got me," he snorted, not knowing how heavily he made the other one blush.

When he was only a few minutes away, he told Minho he'd have to get back to practice.

Minho glanced at his phone and saw they'd been talking for over an hour. "Shit, you're right. Sorry."

"Nothing to be sorry about," he assured him. "I'll talk to you later, okay?"

"Okay," he nodded gently, surprised that Chan wanted to continue their talk later.

"Can I tell you something?" he asked softly.

"Yeah?" he asked.

"I love you," Chan said gently, feeling a little nervous as Minho remained quiet for a moment that felt like ages. It had been the first time in almost a year he put it into words besides their goodbye. It was the first intimate 'I love you'. He had described it well before, sneaking his way around those three little words.

"I love you too," he said softly, and Chan could practically hear him smiling. After ending the call, he watched the last bit of the sun disappear from his sight and smiled a little, thinking back on their talk. Were they actually okay again? He heard his door opening and didn't even look in its direction. "Mum, can we talk later? I’m not really up to talking right now, sorry." The last part faded into a whisper.

Chan quietly closed the door behind himself and took in the sight of him. The fading sunlight danced across Minho's hair as his lashes cast shadows on his cheeks. He still had Chan's letter in his hand and his phone next to him. Chan smiled softly, seeing him wear his glasses; to him, he looked very adorable like this. He was more than glad he followed his heart coming here.

Minho frowned softly as his mother didn't answer and turned his head, eyes widening at the sight of him. He stared at him for a moment, and Chan tilted his head at him with a soft smile.

"Surprise?"

"Channie," he breathed out.

Chp.12 | Chp. 14

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