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#why does this keep happening why have i felt so awful lately
willowfey · 1 year
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it’s so unfair to just Wake Up with an anxiety bellyache. like nothing even HAPPENED yet
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yauchfilms · 9 days
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so american ✢ max verstappen
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pairing: max verstappen x singer!reader
warnings: none; just some silly shit, some swearing, google translate dutch, max's home race is belgium and not the netherlands for timeline related reasons
summary: y/n is teasing way too many things at once…..can the fans keep up? 
author's note: this is NOT an original concept i am aware of this. but this hasn’t left my brain in days. i’ve got a very specific vision so let me cook. i know i haven't posted on here in over a year but i've returned an f1 fan. enjoy!
yourname added to their story! 
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liked by delwatergap, maxverstappen1, and 3,491,842 others
yourname: i think i'm in love with montreal. sorry i’ve been so off the grid but i am Loving Life so hard. so much inspo in my life rn. will talk soon i promise. love u all bunches 🫶🏼🌷
ynsbestfriend: hey queen you have done it again!
-> yourname: ugh i love you so bad
user1: UM BAE WHOS THAT IN THE LAST SLIDE?
-> yourname: beats me! 
-> user1: i do not trust you. 
lilymhe: hiiiii pretty girl
-> yourname: stop im blushinggggg
user2: i fear she’s in her lover girl era 
-> user3: girl help im so fucking scared right now what’s happening
user4: so does any of this have to do with your story from yesterday??????
*liked by yourname.*
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maxverstappen1 added to their story! 
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yourname added to their story! 
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liked by honeymoon, danielricciardo, and 3,572,679 others
yourname: life's been a beach lately. clearly i've been loathing my time in spain ://///
user5: IS THAT MAX
-> user6: no bc it HAS to be
heidiberger_: Loved spending the week with you! 🤍
-> yourname: same!!!!!! let's do it again sometime 🥰
-> user6: NOT DANNY RIC'S GF COMMENTING?????? AND LILY MUNI HE ON HER LAST POST???????
user6: no bc even if her and max were dating and she's been traveling with him why have we not seen her in the paddock
-> user7: to throw us off our rhythm????
-> user8: what if they debut at his home race in spa ijbol
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liked by landonorris, taylorswift, and 4,683,892 others.
tagged: maxverstappen1, redbullracing, and ynsbestfriend
yourname: hahaha felt like dropping 2 things at once on u guys LOLLLLLLLL. thank u to redbullracing, spagrandprix, and the city of spa for letting me and my friends crash the race the other week to film the “so american” music video, and to maxie for winning in ur home country. it was so fucking special to be there supporting u. i love u baby!
ps. another thank u to max for thinking i'm the funniest person in the world and making fun of my americanness for as long as i've known him (which is quite a while).
enjoy this tune guys. it's urs forever and i hope u love it as much as i love the person it's about 🫶🏼 🇧🇪 🇳🇱 TU DU DU DU!!!!!
user9: OH NMY GOD I FUCKING KNEW I SAW U IN THE GARAGE
ynsbestfriend: thanks for letting me third wheel mommy
-> yourname: no one else i'd rather drag along!!!
danielricciardo: Welcome to the family! Song's a banger although I can't believe it's actually about Max of all people 🤢 GROSS!!
-> yourname: jealousy is a disease danny.
user10: i actually cannot fathom this this is so me core
alexandramalsaintmleux: I am so glad to know you! Your happiness is everything 🩷
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liked by sabrinacarpenter, carlossainz55, and 4,783,522 others. 
tagged: yourname and ynsfriend
maxverstappen1: Spent a week away in New England with my talented, gorgeous girl. Loved getting away and experiencing America through her eyes! Consider me an honorary American now! Also, stream “So American” wherever you choose. It's about me 😉 
yourname: does this mean i can stop hiding in the garage now???
landonorris: Happy for you mate! Love the song as well yourname 🤍
-> yourname: awe thank u lando 🥺 i got more to show u when i see u next!!!!!!
redbullracing: ❤️💙
user11: MAX IS IN HIS LOVER BOY ERA
danielricciardo: How many more times can you say American?
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liked by charles_leclerc, chappellroan, and 3,694,849 others
tagged: maxverstappen1
yourname: nothing like celebrating the best 2 weeks of my life than showing my boy around ye olde stomping grounds #soamerican
liamlawson30: This is so American of him
-> yourname: like he fits in so well!
lydianight: u'll have him in the american flag board shorts in no time
-> yourname: baby steps :///
user11: she really is in her lover girl era 🥺
clairo: did you take him to the chipotle that is also a historic landmark downtown??
-> yourname: dude of COURSE i did. he said it was "interesting"
yourname added to their story! 
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polaroidbills · 9 months
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enhypen when you find their baby photos cute
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genre/cw: bf!enhypen x reader, mega super duper fluff, one mention of "dying of cuteness", lots cheek and face squishing
a/n: this was my very first request! i loved writing this so keep requesting more!
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heeseung 희승
"oh my god you were soo cute! i could just squish your little cheeks!"
you're currently sitting on your bed, looking through a photobook of heeseung's baby and childhood photos. cooing over how cute and squishy his cheeks were.
"babe stopp!" he snatched the photobook and slammed it shut.
"noo but i wasn't done looking at the photos!"
"too late! should've taken a picture of them," he shrugs.
"well it's a good thing i did!" you grab your phone and open the pictures you got, putting it up next to heeseung's face.
"see you were so cute! what happened to you?" you compared the baby photo to heeseung now, frowning.
"what?! take that back!" he starts tickling you.
"okay! okay! fine! you're still very cute!" you say laughing.
"good!" he finally stops tickling you.
"see you look the exact same!" you grab his cheeks and squish them like they were in the photo.
"yah! stop it!" he starts tickling you again.
jay 제이
"baby you've been looking at these photos for an hour and a half noww," jay complains.
"but look at how cute you were! i can't stop!"
"well you're gonna have to stop," he grabs your phone to turn it off but before he could you ran away. off of the couch and around the kitchen island.
"yah! come here right now!" he tries to catch you but you run even faster.
"i'll stop under onee condition," you smirk as an idea comes up in your mind.
"okayy? and what is that one condition?" jay asks suspiciously.
"you need to pose like this photo!" you show your favourite baby photo of him.
"what? never!"
"pleasee! i promise i'll stop looking ag the baby photos, if you do this one thing!" you plead.
"fine," jay sighs and does the flower pose like the photo.
"yes!" you quickly snap a photo of him doing the pose.
"good! now stop looking at those photos!"
"i will i will!"
three hours later. all you been doing is staring at the photo you just took of jay.
jake 제이크
you were busy looking through baby and childhood photos of jake. until you felt arms snake around your waist and a head on your shoulder.
"watcha doing?"
"looking at this cute little baby. aw this one is my favourite," you smile at the photos.
"yahh stop looking at thesee," he closes the book and tosses it to the side. "why look at these when you have the real thing right here," he puts his hands under his chin as he smiles.
"but it's not as good as these photoss," you complain.
"yah! i'm soo much hotter and better than before come on, don't you agree?" jake whines at your remarks.
"haha just kidding my baby," you then put your arms around his waist pulling him closer into a hug.
"you better be."
sunghoon 성훈
"wahh you were so cutee," you smile as you go through baby sunghoon photos sunoo sent you.
"yah! where did you get these?" he grabs your phone out of your hand to see the photo up close.
"that's none of your business," you laugh trying to get the phone back.
"oh i'm deleting this!"
"wait no! please! i love the photo!" you jump up when he raises the phone higher.
"and delete! there the photo is gone now," he hands you back the phone.
"ugh! i can't believe you!" you turn around to fake sulk.
"baby?" you don't respond.
"baby i'm sorry. i didn't think it was that big of a deal to you," still no response, you're just on your phone. "yah! are you texting sunoo?"
"uh noo?"
"hey! you so are!"
"well you just deleted my favourite photo of you! so now i gotta get it back from sunoo!"
"he sent them to you?"
"yes!"
"oh i'm gonna slap him across the fa- wait. did you say favourite photo of me?" you nod, giggling. "yah!"
he then tackles you to the bed, tickling you.
sunoo 선우
"oh my god i can't! you were so cute as a baby!" flipping through the photobook, you squeal at how cute sunoo was.
"i know right! like my cheeks were so squishable!" he too, exclaims how he looked as a baby.
"ahh i can't! i'm gonna die of cuteness!" you pretend to faint.
"and my cheeks still are squishable! see?" he pinches his cheeks as you get up to do the same.
"and you're still the cutest ever! ugh i love you so much," you smile at him.
"you were also so cute as a baby!" he shows you a baby photo of yourself.
"yeah but not as cute as you though! i'm lowkey jealous."
"yeah i know," sunoo rolls his eyes, sassily pretending to flip his hair.
jungwon 정원
"aww oh my godd! you were so cuteee!" you flip through the photobook rapidly as the adrenaline flows through your body.
"yahh didn't i tell you to stop looking at those? i'm right here!" jungwon waves his hands in front of your face, getting your attention.
"wait you literally haven't changed! you look the same!" you hold the photo up to his face. you then grab his cheeks and squish them like how they were in the photo.
"there! i can't! cuteness overload!" you clap your hands at how similar it is.
"stopp!" he whines and shoos your hands away.
"wait i need a picture of this. could you pose like this pleaseee?"
"no. never in a million years."
"pleasee jungwon pleasee," you plead.
"no. thats my final answer."
"oh okay that's fine," you turn your back and cross your arms, pretending to sulk. but jungwon buys it as real sulking.
"wait babyy i'm sorryy," he grabs your chin to turn your head. revealing a pout on your lips.
"love i'm sorry. please talk to me," you don't say a word. instead you just sit and pout.
"fine i'll take the photo," jungwom finally sighs, giving in to your demand.
"yes!" you celebrate as he poses and you snap the photo.
niki 니키
you were busy scrolling through old baby photos of niki when you came across your all time favourite one.
you then ran to the living room where he was on the couch and shoved your phone right in front of his face, showing his the photo.
"look! weren't you the literal cutest baby ever! like i could just squish your cheeks oh my god!" you laughed.
"yah! where did you get that photo? i told everyone to delete it!" niki asks shocked.
"ha your mom sent it to me!" you laugh still staring at the phone.
"oh yeah?"
"yup!"
"well guess who sent this one to me?" you look up at him confused as he puts his phone up, revealing an old baby photo of you.
"yah! what the hell?! my mom sent this to you?" you grab his phone to get a better look at the picture.
"haha yes she did! and i made it my wallpaper!" niki turns his phone on and off to show his lockscreen.
"oh my god! that's so embarrassing!"
@polaroidbills please DO NOT copy, plagiarize, or repost any of my work.
🏷️ @enhacolor
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ephemeral--dreams · 1 year
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Making you cry during a fight - Kaveh, Alhaitham
(part 2)
☆ ☾ ☆ ──────────────────
Kaveh
Kaveh… Had a tendency to get caught up in the moment. He says things he may not mean, does things he usually wouldn't do, entirely swept up in the tide of his emotions. He did not always pause to think things through, and it had gotten him into trouble many, many times before.
That impulsivity was a curse in this moment, when his own shouting rings in his ears, too late to take back.
The tiny, choked little sobs you let out are heart wrenching. Kaveh couldn't even remember why he was shouting a moment ago. The only thing running through his mind was the sight of your tear stricken face, and the awful guilt that came with it. He should know better than to raise his voice at you, should've known it would set you off like this.
"Sorry… S… I'm sorry…"
Any anger or frustration he felt before entirely melted away at your words. As emotional as he himself is (too emotional, according to a certain someone), it's easy to be pulled in by what you're feeling right now. The urge to leave and hide from his actions was strong, but the pull to comfort you was stronger. Let it not be said that he wouldn't face the consequences of his actions.
With little warning, he tugged you into his embrace, trying to calm you with the contact. "No, I'm sorry, I- I shouldn't have yelled at you. You didn't deserve that."
"N-no, I… I'm the one that shouldn't be crying over it."
So the both of you were blaming yourselves. Great job, Kaveh, look what you did…
"You shouldn't be crying, but only because I shouldn't have made you," Kaveh told you, pulling back a bit to wipe away your tears. "Let's just agree that this won't happen again, okay? Good."
Alhaitham
You always started fights over the most idiotic things. He was lenient with it because he cared for you. Anyone else who bothered him this much would promptly be ignored. He had noise cancelling earpieces for a reason, after all. Alhaitham was an unfortunately busy man, so he'd rather not spend his downtime bickering with you. Didn't he do that enough with Kaveh already?
It had been a rough day. He was rather irritable at how many tasks he'd been forced to deal with at the Akademiya - just when where they going to find a new Grand Sage so that he could stop taking over the role? Alhaitham had no desire to spend any more time working than necessary, and this simply wasn't the position he had signed up for.
Usually he would mind the way he spoke to you more carefully. You were one of very few people that he willingly chose to keep close to him, so driving you away like he did to others would be less than ideal to maintaining things the way he wanted them. Yet even he, with all his calculation, could slip up occasionally.
That is, perhaps his words were too harsh. Alhaitham certainly hadn't meant to make you cry. Yet here he stood, for once entirely unable to take action as you tried to wipe away your own tears.
He'd admit it was an unpleasant sight. There were few things that could make him feel upset or guilty in any way, that make his chest ache, but it seemed this was one of them. Usually, it didn't matter to him whether his words made someone react badly, but… Alhaitham wasn't going to deny that he regretted snapping at you.
"…Alright, come here. Let's not waste time crying," he pulled you down to sit with him, taking your hands into his, thumbs rubbing in soothing circles. "I apologize. I'll make certain not to be so blunt with you next time."
"S-sorry, I know you'd rather be reading than dealing with th-"
"Hush. No more of that line of thought. You're not a burden. I wouldn't be here if you were," it's not something you can deny. He does do his best to avoid anything troublesome, and you know it. Alhaitham leans in to press a kiss to your forehead, feather-light, and resolves to be more careful with your heart.
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melobin · 6 months
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00:46am
cw. park wonbin x reader, sort of dom!wonbin, fingering, praise, slight hair pulling heavy use of pet names., brief mention of blood, lip biting. minors dni.
wc. 1k
an. a while back i got this ask and i’ve been thinking about it a lot lately so, this has come from it.
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getting home late after a long day was never wonbins favorite thing, but knowing you’d be sitting there when he did return home made everything a little more bearable.
so coming home to find you sat on your bed in just one of his shirts filled his heart with joy, the joy didn’t stop at his heart though, the sight of you looking so peaceful, a small smile on your face as you scrolled through whatever you were looking at on your phone, it sent a different kind of joy straight to his cock.
one thing wonbin adored, especially after a stressful day, was having you cuddled in his arms telling him about your own day. his responses would be a hit or miss, some days he’d be more talkative, asking you questions about what happened and such, other days he found himself sitting back and just listening to you talk. your voice done more for him than any one of those silly asmr videos could ever.
that night, wonbin found himself stuck in the middle of wanting to talk your ear off and just wanting to sit and listen. yet, he also found himself in a new position, wanting to ravage the insides of your cunt as you told him about your day. oh, what a predicament. but he found himself sorting it quickly.
with one of your legs over his, the tips of wonbins fingers traced the skin of your inner thigh, ever so slowly closing in on your panties. he swore he grew dizzy as he felt the heat that was radiating off you. poor thing, you’ve probably been sitting here waiting for him to come and help you for hours.
“how was your day baby?” you shivered as his breath fanned over your neck, lips ghosting over your skin as his fingers slowly massaged the inside of your thigh. you swore he was doing it on purpose, he had to have been.
“uhh” your mind blanked for a few seconds “i had to go pick up some things from the store” your voice faltered when his fingers touched the hem of your panties.
“you’ll let me take them off of you won’t you love?”
“mhm” you hummed, unable to think of a proper verbal reply as his fingers dragged down the skin of your legs, underwear being discarded to the floor.
“what did you get from the store, angel?” you didn’t expect him to continue the previous conversation, especially as his fingers pressed against you. his middle finger pushed further against you, circling around your hole that was already oozing out wetness for him. his lips pressed against your shoulder that had been exposed from his shirt falling down your arm.
“well” your eyes closed as you relaxed against him, head falling onto his chest as you tried to regain your ability to think. “just. just some flour and things”
“oh? baking?” his finger grazed against your clit, your body shook slightly at the contact. he circled it, barely touching it.
“yeah..” you trailed off, his index finger joined his middle one as he placed more pressure on your clit, fingers fingers dipping down to coat themselves in the arousal that was leaking from you.
“new recipes?” you were in awe that he was able to keep himself so sane as he touched you, it wasn’t like you couldn’t feel his cock hardening beneath your leg. wonbin was never one for self restraint, when he wanted you he got you, even if he had to beg for it. wonbin really wasn’t one for shame when it came to begging. that’s why it shocked you so much that he was so visibly calm in that moment.
“i followed a girl on tiktok” the motion of his fingers sped up slightly, any coherent thoughts you had seemed to fade away.
“hmm? what does she do baby?” it felt as if he was taunting you, especially when his fingers moved down to your entrance. circling it, pressing a kiss to the top of your head as he felt it clench under the tips of his fingers. “baby?” he called out for you again, gaining your attention as his fingers slipped inside of you, it drew a moan from you. his arm around you become tighter, holding you closer to him as he smoothly thrusted his fingers into you in a painfully slow motion. “shh baby, why don’t you tell me about her profile?”
“she. she makes baking videos” you felt dizzy, mind clouded as his fingers curled up inside of you, your fingers gripped the fabric of the shirt he was wearing.
“hmm? what kind of things does she bake?”
“brownies” you were on the edge of crying out for him as the pads of his fingers reached deep inside of you to press against that one spot. “she makes good brownies. binnie” his name fell from you in a whine, you could have sworn you heard him laugh.
“what’s wrong angel?”
“it’s too much” you let yourself moan again, feeling as if his fingers were only picking up in speed. wonbin didn’t reply for a few moments, his fingers not stopping their attack on you. it was only when you felt his other hand move that he spoke.
“fuck” was all he said before you felt his hand in your hair, pulling on it slightly so your head was tipped back, the look on your face sent sparks straight to his cock. he couldn’t wait before kissing, having to devour every whimper that came from you due to him.
his teeth sank down on your bottom lip, tongue moving against yours once he let go. you almost sworn you could taste blood come from it after. your mind was elsewhere though, the feeling of your incoming orgasm too distracting.
“binnie” you intention of the kiss almost left your words unanswered “gonna cum” he smiled against you slightly, fingers not stopping as his hand gripped your hair a little tighter. you were insane. he was insane. and so were his words.
“cum baby, i’ll let you cum on my cock after too”
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tag list. @starrypen @austirecs @antinitonny @wonbons @nctxtrash @iridescentboba @annton-s @moons4yu @kpoprhia @chichiuu
if your name is in bold it means tumblr won’t let me tag you!
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paperweight91 · 5 months
Note
A scenario prompt: waking up in a warm embrace, soft lips pressing along your bare shoulder and throat…
But make it soft!dark 😈
Idk why…but lately every time I see soft!dark I see…
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Your drawn from your sleep by the feel of fingers trailing along your calf, lips follow the movement. It all feels so nice, so warm. You hum your encouragement, as you lounge for a few more minutes between awake and asleep. The touch drifts higher until finally kissing along your bare shoulder, while a hand wraps around your throat from behind.
It’s then that you stiffen with the dawning horror of what is happening. There is a man in your bed, that you have no memory of bringing there.
His grip on your throat tightens enough to stop your voice as you open your mouth to scream. Your hands scramble to scratch at his hand, but you may as well be encouraging him, for all it does.
“Shhhh doll, no need for that.” You whimper as you recognize the voice. Captain America. The star-spangled-man-with-a-plan. What could he possibly want with you?
You squeaked as you tried to form words, and he loosened his grip slightly to allow them to pass your lips. “I don’t understand…what’s going on?” You tried to turn your face to look at him but the hand on your throat tightened again in warning.
“Honey, I’ve been keeping an eye on you. And you really haven’t been taking care of yourself.” He tsked at you like you were a small child. “I’m here to make your life easier, our life easier.”
He stated it as if you were together. You’d think you’d remember if you were dating Steve Rogers. You’d only met the man once, when he had gone to the charity gala your work was hosting. As an employee you had made sure to greet all of the VIP guests, including Steve, but clearly he’d made more of the brief exchange than you did.
You tried again to turn to face him, this time he didn’t resist your movements, less fearful of you running. It was only as you turned over that you realized you were naked, and so was he. You shook off the fear, and made yourself look him in the eye as you responded, “Why are you in my bed naked?” It came out harsher than you intended. You wanted answers but looking at the man before you, you realized that he was not everything the media portrayed. There was an icy glint in his eye you had never seen before in the press conferences, or the chance encounter at the gala.
He sighed and lovingly stroked your face. In any other circumstance this would have been a moment you had dreamed of. Now all you could hear ringing in your head was “be careful what you wish for.” Steve stroked your cheek one more time before gathering you into his arms, and pulling you close. You could feel his hard length pressing against your thigh. “I told you honey,” he said sweetly, “I’m gonna take care of you. Take all your worries away. Now be good, and let me take care of you.” There was a warning in his tone, that had you stuck.
You always thought, if it came down to it, fight would be your go-to response. But looking at the super soldier staring at you lovingly, you knew now that you could never out fight, or out run this man.
Like someone else was in control of your body, you slowly nodded. There was one thing you couldn’t stop yourself from asking. “Why me?”
He chuckled at that, and brought one of his legs up between your own. You felt your body betray you as the wetness formed between your thighs. “You really want to know?” You nodded eager for his reply, as your hips rocked against his thigh without your permission. “Well, when I saw you at the Gala, the way you treated all the guests. I was in awe. You were beautiful, charismatic, and a wonderful host. I couldn’t get you out of my head. I knew you were perfect for me, and the more I watched you, I knew I was perfect for you.”
His hands dropped to your hips and he rolled until he was on his back and you were straddling him. You continued to rock against his thigh, with him now controlling your rhythm.
“So doll, you gonna let me take care of you?” His eyebrow twitched up in question, as a smirk grazed his lips.
You moaned above him, not wholly in control of yourself anymore, having given into the pleasure. “I, I don’t know you.” He laughed at your comment.
“Of course you do, doll. And what you don’t, I’ll show you.” With that he groaned and rolled you both again until you were on your back. He wedged himself between your thighs and kissed his way down your body until he reached your mound. Inhaling deeply, before diving in like a man starved.
You were already so close from riding his thigh that all it took was a few suckles on your clit and a single finger prodding at your pussy before you were moaning out your orgasm.
“There you go don’t you feel better?” He smirked as he gripped his cock and gave a few strokes before crawling back up your body to line himself up. You were so out of it, you didn’t even realize what he was doing, until he was halfway in. He groaned loudly as your walls spasmed around him. You tried to look up at his face, but your vision was swimming, only then did you realize you were crying. “Shh, don’t cry doll, you’re doing so good for me.” He murmured as he bucked his hips sheathing himself in your wet warmth fully.
He wiped the tears from your eyes, and brought his forehead to yours. With anyone else, at any other time you would call this making love. But here, with Steve slowly undulating his hips into yours, the look in his eyes feral, you could only call this possession. You moaned at the thought. Bringing your hips up to meet his thrusts.
At your participation, Steve’s lip twitched and he picked up his pace. His hand dropping to find your clit. The other bracing him over you. You began to thrash as your orgasm approached, fingers biting into his skin. “That’s it doll. I know you’re close. Let go, I’ll take care of you. I promise.”
At Steve’s words electricity shot through your veins and you came with a scream. You clenched around him so hard he rocked into a couple more times before spilling himself in you.
The two of you laid in the afterglow. You cuddled up under his chin and halfway across his chest. He stroked up and down your arm as he held you tightly. In the moments before you fell asleep you thought, it wouldn’t be so bad to let Steve take care of everything.
******
This became a whole thing. And…I love it so much! I hope it’s everything you dreamed of Siri 😏
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darthpastry · 4 months
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Insanity ending of Pizzeria Sim is actually pretty tragic when you think about it. I mean, the real ending as well, but that'll be a separate post because I just watched the insanity ending and want to talk about it. Endless tragedy of Michael Afton is on my brain as of late. Huzzah.
Chances are you know how the insanity ending plays out. Michael finds a hidden tape in Egg Baby, because apparently Henry has a secret audio diary he hides in weird places? I digress. The tape reveals Henry's plan, Michael gets told he messed up the plan, so what does Henry do? Surely if he just HAD to make a tape that could ruin the entire plan, he would've had a backup plan in case the tape was discovered, right? Right? NOPE! Dude just decides "oh wow, my irresponsible choices and Michael's curiosity led to my grand plan being ruined. Who could've anticipated this? Welp. I'll just ruin Michael's life forever. Lol."
Instead of making sure to have a backup plan for his painfully flimsy plan, he just makes sure EVERYONE thinks Michael is insane and the dude gets locked up in a mental hospital. Quite frankly, I think that if Michael hadn't already gone insane by that point, being told by probably the last person he trusts "you ruined everything on accident, so I'm convincing the whole world you're insane and replacing you." That's pretty brutal.
It's Henry's fault for MAKING that stupid tape, like what was even the logic for keeping that around. Yet Michael is the one having to pay the price? Also states that Michael didn't even know what was happening and just wanted to open a pizzeria and play arcade games and can you imagine how he felt when he started finding the crew outside the pizzeria?
Why exactly do people think Henry's so great when he has no issue treating Michael like this and is shown to be awful in TSE trilogy iirc?
I do want to go over the other endings and how Henry screws Michael over no matter what at some point, probably one dedicated to the true ending and then one for all the others, but that all seems too long for one post.
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chronicowboy · 1 year
Text
Its not unusual for Eddie to be quiet for whole shifts. Some days, its just a bad day. One where all the work Eddie has done to get better can only keep him trudging forward step by heavy step. One where all his demons come back at once and try to drag him down. One where Eddie is too busy fighting old habits to join in on the jokes and banter. They've all gotten good at dealing with these days - Buck especially, but that's no surprise when he was there for The Worst Days.
So, its not unusual for Eddie to be quiet, but there's a simmering despair to Eddie's silence today that has Bobby's hackles rising. Its not his usual listless, fatigued quiet. Its a heavy, burdensome quiet. Bobby can't stand it, so he waits until the rest of the team trudge off to the bunks before he corners Eddie in the lounge with two cups of tea.
"You're not gonna let me escape are you?" Eddie sighs, collapsing back against the couch he'd tried to jump up from.
"I'm not holding you hostage," Bobby offers him one of the mugs with a smile, "I'm simply gently suggesting that you talk to someone. And I happen to be right here."
"Yeah." Eddie sighs again, eyes drifting down to the steaming surface of his tea. "What do you think I should talk to someone about?"
"Whatever it is that has you like this." Bobby gestures at him kindly. "You seem heavier."
He doesn't say it, but Eddie looks a lot like he did when Buck was in his coma. Bobby can't help but wonder, what with all the Natalia talk, if its because Eddie thinks he's losing him all over again, in a different way.
"Its nothing..." Eddie shakes his head, averts his eyes. "Just something that old lady from the living funeral said to me and Hen. Something my aunt said too."
"What'd they say?" Bobby prompts gently.
"My aunt said that I'm alone," Eddie mumbles. "Marie said that we all die alone. And, recently, I don't know." Another sigh, a hand scrubbed down his face. "Recently, it feels like time is running out and I can't help but think that when it does, its just a lonely death waiting for me at the finish line."
"Eddie, you aren't going to die alone." Bobby aches for him. Buck may be his son, but Bobby's always seen a piece of himself in Eddie. Its why he finds himself here so often, trying to coax Eddie's heart out of its cage. "You know that there are two people who would never, ever let that happen."
Eddie huffs a bitter laugh, eyes landing somewhere far away.
"Yeah, that's what I thought too."
Bobby is mature enough to admit he flounders a little here. All these talks he's had with Eddie, its always felt a bit like speaking to a brick wall. But now, now he thinks Eddie might have finally understood.
"Eddie," Bobby murmurs seriously, seriously enough to have Eddie meeting his eyes, "its never too late. Never."
"Feels like it might be this time, Cap," Eddie chokes out. He glances down at his tea. "I don't want to be alone."
"Love is a risk," Bobby blurts out desperately. He's never met two men who deserve a happy ending more than Buck and Eddie, and, whilst he can't take credit for how far they've come, he feels a blazing pride that their happy endings are to be found in each other. He can't let them miss out. "Love is a terrible, awful risk. Always. Always. Its never easy. It might be in the end. You might look back one day and think that it was all worth it to end up here. But you're in the today, the now, when the love is horrible and painful and the most difficult thing in the world." Eddie looks up at him with tear-filled eyes, and Bobby's heart breaks for him. "Every beat of your heart is like a punch to the stomach, and you think that maybe it would be easier if you'd never felt the love at all."
"No," Eddie interrupts, shaking his head. "No, there's no way I was never going to feel this.. I'd always end up here."
"That's mighty faithful for someone who doesn't believe in the universe," Bobby mumbles.
"I believe in him," Eddie shrugs helplessly.
"Eddie, you haven't lost him." Bobby lays a hand on his shoulder. "He's just out of reach, but you can get to him. You've done it before. Both of you have. You always make it back to each other. That's your deal."
"I don't know how to reach him this time," Eddie confesses breathlessly.
"You have to take the leap, Eddie." Bobby sighs. "Its going to be terrifying, and it might not all fall into place at once. But one day, you'll look back and you'll be so damn glad you jumped."
Eddie bites into his lip as the first tear rolls down his cheek.
"What if he doesn't catch me?"
"Then, he'll pick you up off the floor," Bobby promises with all the conviction he has. Its the one thing he knows with any certainty in this world. "Eddie, whatever happens, you can't lose Buck. Not completely. And things might change. But think of how it could change for the better."
Eddie smiles to himself, a tiny, wobbly, private thing that Bobby's only caught glimpses of when Buck is around.
"So, I just jump?" he asks.
"You jump." Bobby nods. "You jump, and you hope, and you trust that he'll be right there with you."
"That he'll have my back?" Eddie grins ruefully.
"Yeah, trust that he'll have your back," Bobby smiles right back.
They'll be okay.
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aeomianamoure · 6 days
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Emo kai who’s secretly a himbo >:3
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— emo kai who’s secretly a himbo!
warnings <3: !smut, inexperienced kai, inexperienced fem reader, cursing, kai and readers are a big bunch of losers (sorry!), !sweet reader, reader and kai are crybabies in this, mentions of spit?? i think i should put a tw for that!, make out session!, ddlg themes kinda? hmm, virginity loss, !safe sex ok
a/n: im ngl i had no clue what a himbo was before this request tbh so i’m sorry if this is awful
you felt tears in your vision as you felt a tingling sensation on your pussy, unaware of why this was happening so much lately when you were around your boyfriend of eight months
you didn’t get it was that your poor body trying to reject your boyfriend each time he held you? each hug and kiss you two shared? was that doing more harm than good to you? you weren’t sure because you never felt this way before
you felt embarrassed and ashamed of yourself so you didn’t mention anything about it to kai; that was until you finally had enough and told him what’s been happening mid make out session
kissing in cars by pierce the veil lowly echos throughout the room as you sloppily swap spit with your boyfriend, you both getting drunk on kisses and giggling over the drooling dripping on the corners of your lips all the way down to your chins as kai whispered ‘i love you’ followed by a ‘you’re so pretty like a doll’ each time he pulled away from your lips for a split second
you were blushing and saying small ‘thank yous’ and ‘i love you too’ and everything was fine until you felt your pussy ache again and you being unsure and afraid of that you pulled away giving kai the excuse of needing air
but kai knew you better than anyone, he knew something was wrong and you were clearly upset. and this caused him to look at you with droopy eyes and pouting lips; “what’s wrong baby? you’re still with me?” he scans your face with his eyes as he placed his large hands on your cheeks
you were still embarrassed but this secret has been eating you alive for so long, and you trusted kai wouldn’t judge you so you finally decided to fess up. “it aches” you’d tear up again not really sure how to word how you were feeling
“it aches? what aches baby?” kai’s face looks more worried as he tilts his head trying to scan your face he was pretty sure you had a headache or something.
you whimpered quietly as you point to your lower region; “right here” and immediately kai reaches down to massage your stomach thinking that’s what you meant but this only made you more whiny.
“kai! it doesn’t ache there!” your voice grew more high pitched as kai just looked at you confused. “so where does it ache then? your thighs?” the blacked haired male frowns his eyebrows
you huffed having enough of your boyfriend being oblivious so you decided to take matters into your hands and lightly drag kai’s hand down from your stomach to your pussy making a light bomb switch on in kai’s head
“oh no baby your cunnie aches? is that what you’re trying to tell me?” kai coos at you tracing your pussy with his pointer finger through your ruffle skirt making you shiver as you rapidly nod your head yes
“mhm” you’d whimper your eyes tearing up more as you were already feeling so out of it and fucked dumb despite all you two had done was make out but kai senses this and smiles at you showing off his smiley piercing; “yeah? hurts right here? or does it ache here baby?” kai’s grin widens more as he aims his rubbing on your pussy on your clit now
this made your breath quicken as you nod desperately telling him to keep going even though it was new to you both and he didn’t really know what he was doing, he just gotten sex advice from yeonjun last time he hung out with him at the skate park
kai laughs at your state, enjoying how he’s barely rubbing your pussy through your clothes and you’re already fucked out just by his dirty talk. “are you sure this is what you wanna do?” he’s hinting on finally taking your virginity and losing his with you
you nod eagerly unable to speak properly as you’re already so far gone just by kai’s touches and kisses making your boyfriend smile again at you
kai drops his head down to the ends of your skirt trying to hide how nervous he was along with his blush his smiley peeking out as he smiles more; “alright baby just let me get a condom and you just get comfy yeah?”
“holy shit” kai mutters out of breath already once he’s fully inside of you he doesn’t really know what to do or how to feel
he wanted to try his best on pleasuring you but honestly he secretly doesn’t know shit about anything sex related unless it’s from somebody else or from porno he watched; so he hoped just winging it with you would hide that fact
and it seemed to work because he can feel how wet you were and how eager your pussy was to grip onto his length, boosting his ego a bit as he felt you grip onto his arms tighter when he begins to slam his cock in your cervix; slamming him length inside of your velvety walls so aggressively all you could hear was the sounds of your pussy squelching around him making kai grin down at your needy state
“feels good?” he looks at you all cheeky trying to be confident but really he’s still nervous about not making you feel good
you hiccup, nodding your head as you again really couldn’t speak due to how much pleasure you were receiving; this made kai’s confidence go up by 100 as he also felt you squeezing him so tight he couldn’t move anymore
“gonna cum for me?” your boyfriend tells you growing tired already since he honestly didn’t have that much stamina and he’s afraid to admit at how quick he’s cumming
and with a nod he sighs in relief as he lazily and sloppily rubs your clit in hopes of you cumming first so he wouldn’t have to be embarrassed at cumming too soon especially before you
“still aching baby?” kai asked you laughing as you quickly shook your head no; “i love you my sweet girl” kai whispered in your ear as he big spooned you to sleep and you lazily mutter a ‘i love you too’
a/n <3: this was my first time writing himbo txt im sorry if this sucked oomf 😔
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brawltogethernow · 7 months
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L fell over from his customary seated position, died in his nemesis's arms, then came to in his customary seated position.
  He fell over.
  "Richard?" said Wammy, the alias he'd been using four cases ago. "Are you alright?"
  "Watari?" he said dumbly, into the floor. Wammy was dead. He hadn't wanted it to be true, but he had been sure when he saw the data kill switch had been flipped, pieces of information slotting together to form a whole even when he didn't want them to. His own hand had carved him into a device that did this process automatically. It was too late to deny facts.
  "What?" said Wammy like he didn't recognize the Japanese alias.
  L pushed himself up halfway off the ground. "Fuuuuuck this," he said, and fell over again.
"Why me?" he wondered aloud. "Does this happen to everyone killed by the murder notebooks? I can't investigate an infinite multiverse, Weatherby."
  "Probably not," conceded Wammy. He was currently humoring L gamely. L had been able to provide multiple descriptions of future events that would confirm he wasn't cracking up, but none of them had happened yet. He had never been much of one for keeping track of the date regarding matters where someone could do it for him, which didn't help. Well. Wammy would come around.
  L was humoring himself, too, for now. There was no point assuming his mind wasn't reliable. Using his brain to run diagnostics on itself could wait until it seemed necessary. If he was having an Occurrence at Owl Creek Bridge moment it was certainly going on for a very long time.
  He ground his molars against each other. The Kira murders had been supernatural, but clearly guided by a hand that either was mortal or thought the same way. So far, this seemed...random.
  "I don't like this," he informed the room, and incidentally Wammy. His latest sugar cube tower collapsed and split into two factions, one falling into his tea and the other scattering across his desk. Tea sloshed out of its cup in futile pursuit of the desk faction.
  He picked up the teacup by the mostly not sticky handle and sipped it, pursuing the grit at the bottom of its basin. He put it down and but his thumbnail. It was slightly sweet. He needed to wash his hands. He added, "Well. I like it better than being dead."
He sent the party interested in his current case an e-mail with enough key bullet points of the solution for them to clean up what was left of it themselves, which was more than he felt like doing for a rerun of a case. If he were stuck only rehashing already closed cases he might entertain the theory that this was Hell. But the world was wide, he had only lived a year or so beyond this in the first place, and the Kira case was still open.
  He tried to console himself that Light Yagami possessed one of the most ruthlessly brilliant minds L had ever encountered. This did not make him feel any better about being beaten by a fucking child. L was an extremely petty man about things like that.
  (He had been a worse minor. If he had been eighteen as well when faced with such an infuriating suspect, he would probably have been the one instigating physical altercations. He would have broken Light's perfect nose instead of playing around with him, and then maybe he wouldn't be undead.)
  He gnawed his thumbnail, brain too itchy to be content just pressing it against his bottom lip where he could usually stop. He knew on one level of thought he was risking ending up with sore and bloody cuticles, but it was not the level primarily in charge of his teeth and hands when he was stressed. Was he stressed? Extremely, yes. But should he have been? His life wasn't even in danger, nor was Wammy's. Kira hadn't claimed his first kill yet, probably hadn't acquired his weapon, that awful, intriguing, unassuming notebook. And when he did, L could just...
  L didn't even have to do anything. He could just ignore it, and stay ensconced in whatever HQ he chose. Name unrecorded, face unknown, existence not relevant to Light Yagami's twisted morals. He already knew all the key mechanics of Kira. The method, the means—he was sure he'd already known the why. He had all the answers he wanted. Light had given him his answers.
  His true face... It was all the confession L had needed. An honor, even.
  Ha!
  L didn't need anyone's sanction to solve the Kira problem, either. He could steal the notebook. He could hire a hitman.
  Dull pain and the taste of blood alerted him that he'd bitten through his thumb.
  He popped it into his mouth to keep blood off his keyboard. No, he didn't want to kill Light Yagami. He probably should kill Light Yagami, but he didn't want to. He wanted to... To...
Of the many casualties of the Kira case, there was no one he cared to intervene for he hadn't led to danger with his own hand. (Should he have cared more about Beyond? Eh, he'd interfere if Wammy brought it up.) Even Naomi, who he hadn't spoken to in years, should have no reason to return to her home country if L didn't repeat old plays.
  ...He wondered if he was perhaps taking the wrong lessons about treating people as expendable from the situation.
  He tapped his fingers. Naomi. He had liked her.
  He spent an hour at the keys confirming where she was. The sun had set around him, at some point, leaving him in a black room with the monitor a white inferno at the center. Moved to Burbank, engaged, retired. She must be bored out of her mind in an empty room of her own making. No wonder she had died over this case too.
  He hoped it was exciting first. Light had never mentioned her.
  Focusing all of her faculties on her boytoy only for a killer to take him away... She must have gotten very unlucky to have not proved a bigger obstacle.
After it came clear that L was reporting his experiences accurately (or hallucinating his confidant's confirmations), Wammy sat silently for a subjectively long minute and forty-seven seconds.
  "What is it like?" he asked at last. "Dying."
  "I don't know, I was kind of distracted," L deflected, because this is true.
  Wammy gave him a blank yet communicative look.
  L bit down on his other, less raw thumb. Why hadn't Wammy come back with him, possessed of his own experience to draw on? Was there another Wammy, elsewhere, who has gone back alone?
  Could it be he really didn't die? No. L was sure.
  Kira had done that, but even spider-scrabbling blunted fingertips at the bottom recesses of the linty pockets of his heart, L couldn't find it in himself to feel too righteously indignant. L was the one who had wanted to win badly enough he'd anted up his allies in their game. He had been cocky. He had been too cavalier.
  "Frustrating," he answered. "Like when you can't stay awake even though you're in the middle of a project."
  The brain, whirling determinedly away even as it stopped receiving fresh blood, as the vision narrowed down to a thin line, a screen shutting off uncaring of whether it was the end of the program.
He researched relevant players he hadn't been aware of at this point. All were transpiring to be about where he'd have plced them.
  The web of events was elaborate. But that could have been dream logic. He'd tried, but never gotten the hang of, lucid dreaming. He was not sure he would be truly convinced this was happening until he'd discovered a why.
  He hovered his overful teacup not quite at his lips. Next, he could find a backdoor into the TCPD systems, but...maybe...
  He wormed into Yagami Light's computer instead. After 24 hours of passive data collection this provided him with Souichirou's passwords and how Light concealed he was using them.
  It was very amateur, which was the best way to hack an organization that thought it was going to be hacked by professionals. Casual exploitation of loose security.
  It was child's play on top of this to get a day-old visual on Light. L looked at the security photo and felt a thrill up his spine. Ah, death really didn't change me for the better at all, he thought.
"What's next in the docket?" asked Wammy, tidying up the workstation they were slated to abandon. (L remained on his computer chair and let this happen around him.) He was content to follow L's lead, even knowing he had led them both to their deaths.
  "I want to find out why I've come back in time, and how," said L. "...But I don't have any leads to speak of."
  "Except young Yagami," concluded Wammy, who was not an unclever man.
  "I don't want to return to the Kira case," L admitted.
  "Completely understandable," said Wammy without judgment. He was not an overly moral man, either.
  L fidgeted. Flopped somewhat. "The Kira case is the most interesting case on the planet right now," he said.
  Wammy waited.
  "But I already know how he kills," L sulked. "And dying kind of hurt."
  Wammy's mouth pursed at this. But he only asked, "What are you planning, L?"
  "I'm going to insert myself," announced L, rising and stepping out of his chair. "What do we have in liquid assets right now?"
  "What will this be put toward?" inquired Wammy.
  L rolled his eyes up toward the ceiling and thought about it, chewing his lip. "Shenanigans," he declared.
  He realized he had forgotten a social step and stopped his creep for the exit. He swiveled his head around. "Though Weatherby, if you want to return to the school for a year or two, or perhaps go on vacation—"
  "I'll go where you go," interrupted Wammy, chilly.
  L pursed his lips, finding now he'd began it that this was not the perfunctory check-in he'd taken it for. He said, "I would prefer if you didn't die."
  Wammy sighed. "A similar sentiment is why I will accompany you."
  L turned back around. "I see," he said, nodding. "Emotional blackmail."
  "This time I trust you to take the appropriate precautions," said Wammy.
  "Ugh," said L. "You're no fun."
To enact his very ingenious and only partially driven by general doubt in reality and spite scheme, L got a job at a pastry chain in Tokyo.
  After less than a single afternoon, the manager deemed L unfit to serve customers (this was correct), so he was shuffled onto glazing duty. He accepted this without complain as, due to the pop-up-cum-cart-style layout of the establishment, this still allowed him a clear view of anyone patronizing the establishment. Moreover, he did not especially want to serve customers.
  He despised the thin plastic sanitation gloves, which felt like rather than protecting his hands they moved the barrier of contaminated flesh up to his wrists, oils creeping and substances splashing upwards, until he wanted to decontaminate his arms up to the elbows and down to the bone.
   It's for the case, he told himself even though there was no case, not really. It was the same process of steeling himself to put discomfort aside for a greater cause.
  The greater cause this time was just bullying Yagami Light.
  This is a cinnamon roll of great justice, he told himself, then held it up to eye level and examined it, debating whether to eat half of it in front of his manager. For great justice.
His fingers twitched. He solved cold cases from his backlog and sent in tips about them thumb-typed on a PDA on his lunch breaks. He was so understimulated he contemplated playing some stocks, which he was trying to cut back on. He had more money than one person could ever need and than he had any inclination to redistribute responsibly, and also he acclimated to them the way some people did to pachinko.
The manager sat him down. "I have been informed I can't fire you," he said.
  "Yes," said L, who had purchased the chain before applying for the job.
  "But I want to," said his manager, like it was important L knew.
  "That's fine," said L. He pulled an industrial tub of cold icing over, stuck one finger into it, and licked it.
  The manager's mouth flexed murderously. L entertained himself briefly by imagining this scheme if Light was his manager.
When Light finally walked in, L had been shuffled back to cashier duty to get him to stop licking the donut icing, where he would remain until customer satisfaction dropped untenably low. With a pull that was gravity-inevitable, they locked eyes across the room, and a realization was clear to L at once:
  He's bored again.
  Without anyone challenging to oppose him, Kira was already getting bored. A smile spread like an ocean oil slick over L's face. Or perhaps like the mysterious and ever-widening sticky spot under the second stove that no one could seem to mop up.
  Everything was falling in line with his loftiest expectations. Light would crawl on his knees right to L. He didn't realize it, but he was desperate.
  And L would lead this insufferable man, in his supplication, right through the mystery floor goo.
  L favored Light with his (he was told) very unsettling customer service smile. "Welcome to Cinnabon," he said.
AO3
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sanjisblackasswife · 1 year
Text
When They Cum Too Fast…(NSFW)
Ft. Sanji, Ace, Shanks, Law
CW: Sex.
Black Fem Reader
Sanji
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He actually can hold off from cuming better than the other guys listed .
He knows what to think about or what different moves to make to make sure you cum at least twice before he does
Except today he has been getting teased by you all day
You both went shopping and stopped by a clothing store and Sanji seen a beautiful two piece lingerie and he held it in awe imagining you in it.
He bought it for you with the last bit of money he had and haven’t stopped thinking about it since. He was mentally excited to see you put on the thin fabric just so he can fuck you in it
Well it was finally time and he was a bit too excited…
“Fuck!” He strained out a moan into your chest panting. He only did a couple thrust and you could already feel his warm seed pool inside you letting you break out a small moan yourself from the tingling sensation.
“I’m—im so sorry sweetheart I—“
He was on the verge of tears but you kissed him, you didn’t mind at all. You were actually happy to know your boyfriend was feeling good like you always were.
“Don’t apologize. It happens, okay? There’s nothing wrong with that.”
“Y-yeah but I—I didn’t want to cu—-“
You rolled over on top of his damp body running your finger down his chest and placed his hand on your slightly exposed breast barely covered by the lingerie .
“How about I make us both feel good tonight? Hm?” You bit your lip seeing his pink face squeeze your chest in admiration.
Ace
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You finally allowed him to have sex with you raw and the new warm feeling overwhelmed the poor boy.
You both have been practicing safe sex for a while now but today you were just really impatient and Ace has been such a good boy for you you decided to grace him with your bare walls tonight.
He of course was absolutely more than ready to fuck you with no stupid plastic in between you both
He completely under estimated the pleasure he’d feel sliding in between your tight wet hole so he got a bit carried away with fucking you from the back
“A-ace Baby! Slow down ah!” Your whines went towards deaf ears. He was in a drunken bliss inside your pussy, you felt wetter than he is used to and tighter than he remembered and not to forget how comfortably warm he was he needed this release.
“C-cumming!” His thrust became sloppy, but his grip on your hips became tighter. He came inside you crying out your name like a melody before he hovered over your back panting on your neck and ears.
“I’m..im sorry.” He huffed. You didn’t even care you found it funny yet hot how Ace couldn’t control himself. “You feel…really good down there.”
“Yeah I can Tell.” You giggled and he just laughed with Ace slapping your now wet ass.
“‘M not ganna fall asleep ‘m ganna make you cum…too…”
“Ace! You bet not fall asl—“
Asshole fell asleep right on your back with his cock still deep inside you.
Law
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Completely your doing
You just had to grip the life out of him when he told you to slow down
You know that man can’t handle you riding his cock
“WAIT—shit! Y/N stop!”
He kind of pissed you off today by how he was spoiling Bepo way more than you lately so you kinda was in a petty mindset
You didn’t even care that you wasn’t close to cuming that asshole made you mad
“Y-you…bi—-“
“You finish that sentence I’ll start bouncing again.” You held your hand up to his panting mouth feeling his cum slide out of you, he looked down to noticed and you felt his cock twitch. “You like cumming inside me huh.”
“Mmmfff—“
“What?”
Law swatted your hand away huffing and puffing with his kimono now sliding off his upper body, you smirked at his annoyed face and sat up, “Why the fuck did you do that?”
“You know why.” You crossed your arms pouting like a child completely unfazed by you being butt ass naked and his cock still inside you pumping you full to the brim with his cum because you keep clenching down.
“No, I don’t know why!—-fuck —you feel too good get off me!”
“No. I didn’t cum yet.”
“YOU COULD HAVE IF YOU WOULD HAVE SLOWED THE FUCK DOWN!”
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I mean the man is half your age his stamina is still there but sometimes cums like a damn touch starved man.
However he came right as he inserted himself into you which was something that shocked the both of you
You didn’t mind it but Shanks with his dramatic ass began to question himself and his worth as a man
“Baby I told you it’s fine just come back to bed…” You groaned seeing this 40 year old man walk back and fourth naked having a fit.
“No why the hell did I do that? I mean you don’t feel THAT damn good—“
“Excuse me?!”
“I—okay that’s not what I mean you do feel that good but ALL I DID WAS PUT THE TIP IN?”
“You exhaust me Shanks I’m going to bed—“
“Nope!” He pushed you back down on the bed as you were reaching for your robe and opened your legs exposing your cum filled pussy. “You’re ganna cum and I’m ganna make it happen I still can make you cum!”
“Shanks I know you can I—ah!”
He wasted no time using his tongue on you and he most definitely proved himself over and over again.
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earlgreytea68 · 2 months
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Many years ago now, when I was a very unhappy and depressed lawyer, I went to see a therapist. The therapist diagnosed that I was suffering from severe levels of stress and asked me to keep a "stress journal": for the week between appointments, I was to write down whenever I felt my stress spike.
When I returned to the next appointment with my stress journal, the therapist was shocked I'd actually done the assignment. He said nobody actually keeps a physical journal. I suspected that maybe he didn't fully understand my personality type and the fact that some of my stress was the result of PEOPLE ASKING ME TO DO THINGS THEY APPARENTLY DIDN'T ACTUALLY WANT ME TO DO BUT I WAS RESPONSIBLY DOING THEM BECAUSE THAT'S HOW I AM.
Anyway, I digress, that's not the point of the story. The point was that when we looked together at my stress journal, we diagnosed that a recurrent source of spiking stress was receiving an email. This was so many years ago that it was before the smartphone, in the age of the BlackBerry, and every time my stupid BlackBerry vibrated, my stress skyrocketed. Having figured that out, the therapist was like, "What happens if you miss an email for an hour?" And that was hard to articulate. Probably nothing, tbh. Like, realistically I could go without checking my email if I was too busy with work, so why couldn't I when I was home watching TV? So the therapist suggested I confine my email checking to a set schedule. Only at the appointed times would I check my email and deal with whatever had come in.
And you know what? The world never ended, and it WAS a huge relief not to feel like I had to immediately be available for every email. To this day, my work email does NOT come to my phone and I only check it at my appointed times of day. (Actually, I resisted getting a smartphone until very late because after I left the law firm I thought the most glorious thing in the world was PEOPLE COULDN'T REACH ME.)
Anyway, I was thinking about all that today because I had a bad day at work and I realized that I was dreading checking my email and it just made me think that I have lingering issues around email. But then, the more I thought about it, the more I was like, ...no, I probably have lingering issues around WORK because of that job experience I had. Like, was it really about what emails I might have, or was it because I spent the day feeling manipulated in an unpleasant way that made me wary and suspicious of certain things around me, and then THAT made me think, like, I was overreacting because of the way that previous job experience was and the fact that the way it manipulated and abused me will never actually fully leave me, but THEN I was like, OR is it that I honed excellent instincts for that kind of situation happening and I should listen to myself when I feel that way, or or or--
Which is all to say that I wonder sometimes how I would have developed as a professional had I not had that career experience so early on in my life. But then I am in a weird way grateful for it, not because it forever kind of messed up my head in some ways but because I learned SO MUCH about those messed-up situations. Like, it was awful, don't get me wrong, but I did learn a bunch of coping mechanisms I still use today. Like limiting my email exposure. And I think I am warier than a lot of other people I know who didn't go through a workplace that mentally abused you the way that mine did, but I'm not so sure that's a terrible thing. I think it makes me touchy about work-life boundaries and i think there are way worse things to be in our capitalist society.
And also, every once in a while I think about the fact that I didn't think I was going to make it through those years but I did and I am pretty proud of myself for that, so also that. I made it through the other side when I honestly for real didn't think that I would, and every once in a while I have a day that reminds me of how I felt all the time back then, and it makes me remember to be grateful how many days I've gotten to have without that feeling.
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heyiwrotesomethings · 11 months
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DEMON SLAYER CUZ YESSSSSSSS.
shinobu x female reader
I wanna kick uzuis ass again soooooooo
Uzui is being a dick to everyone because he is in a mood and make fun of shinobu (u find the reason nth comes to mind rn) and the reader having an awful day herself kicks his ass and brings him to his wives "next time that disgrace you call a husband insults my soon to be wife again I'm gonna cut his tongue of and shove it so far up his ass it will come out of his mouth again 🙃
have a good day ladies oh and do keep him a check or I will 🙂 byeeeee"
gl finishing all of those rqst
Bad Morning
Shinobu Kochou x She/Her Reader
A/N: I don’t know what’s up with me, but this threat was a bit too descriptive for me and since this is like, at least the third time we’re beating Uzui up, this one is kind of lackluster, apologies! Hopefully I still got the message across lol. Hope you still like it! Word Count: ~1,220
Uzui Tengen woke up on the wrong side of the bed earlier that morning. Which was to say Suma had accidentally pushed Makio out of bed, which in turn lead to Makio dragging her out of said bed by the ankles in retaliation. Tengen tried his best to ignore them and focus on Hinatsuru’s cute mumblings as she turned to lay on her other side, but Makio’s growls and Suma’s cries made it downright impossible.
“Could you two keep it down, goddamnit! Why does this have to happen every morning?!”
“Maybe we should invest in a bigger bed.” Hinatsuru murmured, pressing a pillow over her head.
“Or we just make Suma sleep on the floor. She kicked me last night too and I have the bruise to prove it!” Makio pulled up the hem of her sleepware to show the bruise her thigh was sporting and Suma wailed.
“I’m sorry! Let me kiss it better! Don’t make me sleep on the floor Makio, please!”
“Nobody is sleeping on the floor!” Tengen groaned. “I’ll get a bigger bed, okay? Can I just get one more hour of sleep—“
“Caw!” Nijimaru came in through the window with flapping wings and rattling beads. A damn fine, flamboyant bird if Tengen did say so himself, but he couldn’t think of anyone he’d rather see less at the moment. “You’ll be late for the meeting if you stay in bed any longer, Uzui!”
“Damn it all, that’s today?” Tengen shot out of bed, jamming his toe against the bedside table. He cursed and limped his way to the bathroom, now even more pissed because he would have to skip his morning skin care routine if he was going to make it to Oyakata-sama’s mansion in time.
He barely had enough time to bathe and put on his makeup before heading out the door. No time to even eat breakfast. At least Suma ran him some toast at the door and jumped up to give him a quick peck on the cheek. It certainly made up for the rude awakening at least, sweet girl.
Still, all the toast and kisses in the world couldn’t make him shake off the sour mood he was in. His morning routine was sacred. When his routine was disturbed, it honestly felt like his whole day was ruined.
People have bad days. It’s normal to maybe ask for a little space, to tell people you aren’t really feeling yourself, but the moment you use your bad morning as an excuse to be shitty to other people, then expect your day to get much, much worse.
“Iguro, come on man. Can you get your scrawny ass outta my way? Shouldn’t you be sitting like a broody tree’d raccoon by now?”
“We’re talking, walk around. It’s a fucking garden.” Sanemi was quick to shoot back as Obanai glared.
“Nobody can make anything easy today, can they?” Tengen sighed loudly, bumping into Sanemi as he walked past the two fuming men.
He rested in his usual spot, hoping to maybe get a little bit more sleep in before the Master arrived. However, Mitsuri was talking up a storm with Shinobu and (Y/n) and the excitement in her voice as she spoke made it hard for Tengen to relax.
“She made me dango for helping me get her cat out of the tree! Isn’t that great? It was really good too! And then—!”
“Gods, Kanroji,” Tengen groaned, “would it kill you to take a page out of Tomioka’s book and be quite for once?”
“Hey! What the hell is your problem?” (Y/n) scowled.
“Just because you woke up on the wrong side of the bed, it doesn’t give you license to make everyone else around you feel miserable as well.” Shinobu chimed in, she put a reassuring hand on Mitsuri’s shoulder while she gave Tengen a disapproving look.
“I’m gonna kill that bastard.” Obanai growled, Kaburamaru hissed in agreement.
“Perhaps you should take a page out of Tomioka-san’s book and butt out of conversations that have nothing to do with you, hm? Contrary to what your ego may tell you, the world does not revolve around you.” Shinobu added for good measure.
“Big words for somebody so small. I could crush you like a grape between my fingers.”
“Uzui, my friend! You should stop talking before you say something you’ll really regret!” Rengoku advised.
“So disgruntled,” Shinobu tisked pityingly, “Given how out of sorts you are this morning, I doubt you could even brush me with those meaty, perpetually sweaty hands.
Tengen took a deep breath through clenched teeth, but (Y/n) spoke up before him, her voice low, warning,
“Uzui-san, I’d listen to Rengoku-san if I were you. Act like an adult and let it go. With any luck, the meeting will be over in an hour and you can sleep the rest of the day away.”
“Tch,“ Tengen sneered, “how about this, you tell your little, and I do mean shrimpy, puny, girlfriend to zip it, and then I will too.”
“I am not her keeper.” (Y/n) said through gritted teeth.
“Well if she can’t keep her mouth shut, why should I?!”
“Ah, my deepest apologies, Uzui-san,” Shinobu began, not looking very sorry at all, “(Y/n) and I had a rather late night in the lab ourselves. My mistake for trying to hold you to the same standards we hold ourselves to.”
Tengen was seeing red. He wanted to wipe that perfect little smile right off of Shinobu’s face and before he could think better of it, he had thought of something to say that would hit her where it would hurt.
“Wipe that fake-ass smile off your face, little Kanae wannabe. You want to imitate her so bad, start by acting like less of a bitch maybe.”
Well, that sure made the smile fall from Shinobu’s lips. Her expression became impassive, an eerie blankness, but no one took the time to really notice because (Y/n) was already leaping to her feet, kicking up pebbles that scattered over Tengen’s thighs as she got closer.
“The fuck did you just say?!” Sanemi growled, his head snapping towards Uzui.
“Uzui-san, I know you can be abrasive, but that kind of talk is unacceptable.” Gyomei spoke up for the first time that day and that was how Tengen knew he might have really fucked up.
“Okay, okay, you are a fucking dead man now! I don’t give a damn about you not getting your beauty sleep, you wanna play nasty, we’ll play nasty alright!”
(Y/n) knew Shinobu could take care of herself, but she also knew that Uzui had hit a nerve. Like Shinobu had said, they had a tough night, tougher than Uzui’s, she imagined. She had been helping Shinobu with her latest experiment on her journey to find a poison that could end an Upper Moon.
Despite all of the promising research, the experiment had fallen flat, or well, more accurately caused a small explosion that (Y/n) and Shinobu spent the next three hours cleaning up after. Thankfully they had been wearing the proper gear during the whole ordeal, but they still smelt overwhelmingly of wisteria.
(Y/n) got close enough to Uzui that he could smell it on her and the potency stung his nose. She grabbed him by the collar of his uniform and he engulfed her wrist with his hand—
“Oyakata-sama is coming!” Mitsuri squealed, noticing two of the Master’s children leading him around the building. It must have been one of his good days and he decided to take a stroll.
“I’m not done with you.” (Y/n) hissed, letting go of Uzui’s uniform with a shove before quickly dropping to the ground.
“You’re like a yappy little dog,” he sneered, “All I gotta say is, ‘boo!’ and you’ll be shaking in your sandals.”
“The first thing I’m gonna do is cut out your own tongue and feed it to you, asshole.”
Tengen grit his teeth together. The Master was much too close now to continue trading vulgarities.
Tengen started out the meeting boiling hot, but listening to the Master speak had its usual calming affects and before Tengen knew it, he was in a relaxed, meditative state. It was the closest thing to sleep one could have while awake. It was like magic. The Master bid them all farewell and Tengen inhaled deeply, then released a relaxed exhaled, tension leaving his shoulders. He felt so much better—
(Y/n)’s fist came sailing at him with all the force of a mantis shrimp and she decked him, making direct contact with his temple.
“Alright Uzui, how about you and me go for a little stroll?” (Y/n) grunted, heaving the hulking man to his feet was no simple task, especially now that he was having a hard time standing up himself after that vision spotting hit. She turned to look back at Shinobu with adoration and concern, “Would you like to come along, dear?”
“I suppose.” Shinobu shrugged before rising to her feet as well. Truthfully, she didn’t want to have to look at Uzui for another minute, but if (Y/n) accidentally killed him, that would be one less Hashira and they were already spread thin enough as it was.
The remaining Hashira, that cared enough to, watched on as (Y/n) pulled Tengen away from the mansion by his ear, very thankful they weren’t in his shoes at that moment.
Tengen shuffled down the path, bending with (Y/n)’s sharp pushes and pulls while the two women discussed what they should eat for lunch. Sadistic beings…
Though it was hard for his eyes to focus because of that sharp punch to his temple, he soon recognized the scenery and realized (Y/n) was taking him home, to what end, he was afraid to find out.
“Good afternoon, ladies.” He heard (Y/n)’s muffled voice through the ringing in his ears.
“Oh gods, what did he do this time?” Makio groaned.
“(Y/n)-san, I don’t know what he did, but please, be a little more gentle with him.” Hinatsuru requested hesitantly.
She was hesitant because she knew her husband had a track record of saying or doing stupid things. Even Suma, the most sympathetic of the bunch, could agree that sometimes getting slapped around a little bit was warranted when it came to their husband’s unfiltered words and uncouth actions.
“Don’t worry, I caught him off guard with the first punch, so I didn’t go any further. I probably nearly fractured his skull since he didn’t think to defend himself at all, don’t you think so, Shinobu?”
“Oh yes, given how he’s been wobbling, and that he threw up in the bushes on the way here, it’s safe to say he would have been in real trouble if you had decided to keep going.”
Makio, Hina and Suma paled, quickly taking possession of their loopy husband when (Y/n) offered him to them. It was difficult to keep all that muscle up right, so they could only imagine just how furious (Y/n) was to have been able to basically drag him all the way home.
“The next time your disgraceful, woefully un-flamboyant husband says or does anything that hurts my fiancée, intentionally or not, he may not make it back to you in one piece. Understand?”
“Yes, we’ll talk to him. I’m sorry.” Hinatsuru hung her head low.
“You have nothing to apologize for, but when your husband snaps out of it, you might suggest he start looking for ways to atone because I’m not quite so sure I could hold myself back if I see him again too soon. That single punch was not satisfying at all.”
“We’ll work on it.” Makio swore.
“We promise! Please don’t kill him!” Suma sobbed.
“I won’t kill him, too much paperwork.” (Y/n) promised, then after a pause added, “Well, I wouldn’t kill him on purpose anyway.”
“Here,” Shinobu stepped up to the three horrified looking wives and handed Hinatsuru a small paper bag, “I suspect he has a concussion. I have provided all instructions and materials needed to give him proper treatment.”
“Thank you…” the three answered in unison.
Shinobu gave them a short nod of acknowledgment before linking back up with (Y/n). The two strolled off like nothing had happened, smiling and gazing lovingly into each other’s eyes as they disappeared over the hill.
“We need that new bed stat!” Suma said with an exhausted sigh as the trio dragged Tengen into the house.
“I think our dumbass husband needs a personality check more.” Makio grunted.
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crash-and-cure · 1 year
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If I Were You Part 5 (Yandere!Austin!Elvis x Reader)
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Summary: Love is the only rational act. Call him crazy or unhinged all you want, that sounds just about right to Elvis. 
A/N: Well... it’s been a minute. Sorry y’all I’ve been having to deal with a move recently which set me back alot in terms of finding free time to write but I’d rather it be late and good than early and rushed. This chapter is going to be from Elvis POV so if it feels like there is a bit of a heel turn from reader know that that is why. We’ll also be getting insight as to how reader has been feeling these last few months and how she handles what happened in this chapter in the next.
Warnings: Yandere!Elvis so expect themes of obsessive, manipulative, jealous, and heavily delusional behavior as well as references to previous blackmail, emotional and otherwise, here too. Dubious consent in some areas. Inappropriate relationship with a Therapist (Though she is no longer one at the moment). Depictions of a therapy session. Explicit sexual content depicted that includes Penetrative sex (m/f), Daddy Kink, Praise kink, a bit of somnophilia (she does not stay asleep), vaginal fingering, and a tiny bit of anal play. Also mentions of Elvis' mommy issues, though he’ll never call them that and reader’s daddy issues because parallels. Period typical misogyny depicted and reflected by POV character’s attitude towards women in the orkplace. Finally depictions of a toxic relationship that include power imbalances, emotional manipulation, heavy use of coercion, grabbing that leads to bruising and deception. Please do not interact if you are under 18.
Word count: 14K
Part 1  Part 2  Part 3  Part 4
Masterlist
Humility is something Elvis always tries to work towards. Even as his star grew to new heights he could never have dreamed of before, he always in the back of his head felt as though he was just a step away from losing it all. And he almost did, not in the sense of losing the fame or the money, but he did lose sight of what he loved, in who he loved and 
But people didn’t stop loving him. 
He’s been honest with you that this was a heavy burden he had to bear, that need to fix himself not for his own sake but for others. The idea that him running himself ragged into an early grave felt less like a fear, and more like an inevitability. 
And yet he beat the odds, and now he looks forward to all that life has to offer now.  
Elvis tries to be humble, but it’s hard to do so when every morning he gets to wake up next to the most beautiful, most intelligent, and most caring woman in the world, with the full knowledge that you’re his alone. 
He never thought it was possible to love someone so deeply like this. 
Sure at first you yourself used to see an issue in this kind of love, but he eventually brought you around. Sure it can be an awful thing when someone is vile, and taking advantage of the other, but he knows he never has to worry about that from you. 
You take care of each other, and ain’t that what it’s all about? 
Those other people don’t know what the two of you got, and have never experienced a love like yours. If they could even experience a fraction of the love he felt for you, they would understand why nothing could keep him away from you. How cruel it would in fact be to keep either of you apart. 
Now as he holds you in his arms he’s content in the knowledge that no one has any right to do so. 
Those first few months of your relationship, there would be times when he woke up and even seeing you he couldn’t entirely trust it was truly you. His mind had played tricks on him before with all those other women he had had right before you, and he would have to feel the devastating grief that these women weren’t you. 
He doesn’t even remember most of their names, considering how many of them left because of how often he would say your name when he wasn’t being careful, it was probably for the best. Part of him wonders if any of them ever figured out they were stand-ins for you, the other part worries that he doesn't feel particularly guilty even if they did. 
But these worries quickly die as he looks down on your beautiful face. 
He liked seeing you so sleepy, those early months, it’s when you were most honest he thinks. Too tired to think too hard about anything save for the feelings he knows he brings out in you. Just awake enough to know what you’re doing and more importantly to know how to enjoy yourself. When you’re soft and pliable just the way he likes you, but just as ravenous and willful as any wildcat to really make him work up an appetite. 
He lifts the covers off of the both of you and he gets to see how the hem of your baby doll had ridden up well past your hips, and he licks his lips seeing his breakfast. 
He knows that your body wanted him before your mind did. That on some deeper level you wanted him, long before you could think so, let alone admit it. And he sees it in these moments as you’re still dead asleep but you squirm under his touch. Breathy sighs fall from your plush lips as he lazily brushes his fingers along your inner thighs  
He wonders what you dream about these days. You once told him how dreams can have any meaning you assign them to have, and it’s within his power to decide. 
He once told Priscilla that he was “all outta dreams,” and he could safely say he feels the same way with you. Before those words meant how he felt hopeless in such a bleak situation, but now they mean the utter contentment he feels everyday when he’s with you. 
Something you gave him, and in spite of all that he’s done to get you here, he will happily spend the rest of his days paying you back. You’ve helped him in ways you probably couldn’t imagine, as now, he wants for nothing but you anymore. 
And when his hand finally reaches into that warm piece of heaven between your legs, there is no hiding the way he makes you feel. You squirm under his touch, not having even been anywhere close to waking up. He hopes that he now occupies your dream world now as you have done since he’s met you. 
Your eyes don’t immediately shoot open, but you jump a little as he starts to drag you back to the waking world. With a half-lidded unfocused stare, you’re all lazy smiles and breathy moans as you buck your hips against his hand all the while your ass rocks against him, stirring up little Elvis from his slumber. He wonders if you believe you’re still dreaming, after all in his mind everyday with you feels like one. 
You’ve become so compliant since you left your job for him. You don’t gotta worry about no office to be at or other patients you need to see. You don’t mind being seen with him out and about anymore. You especially don’t mind the marks he leaves on you, which is a good thing especially now as he’s in a mood to mark you where he can today. 
But you, in your half-asleep state, apparently have other plans. He feels as you blindly reach between your legs to grab a hold of him, catching him off-guard slightly as he starts to feels his cock part your folds. Then without a word of warning you close your thighs, and it’s like a punch to the gut it feels so good. You’re warm as all get out, and your thighs are still slick from last night, but the major difference between this and your little love cavern is your teasing fingers that gently bring the very tip of him up to continuously nudge at your clit. 
It’s enough to drive any man insane. 
It truly takes everything within him to pull away from you, and from the needy little whine you give, you feel the same. He turns you around and puts you right to straddle his lap. Your head lolls a bit at the swift motion, not entirely awake, but you practically jolt awake when he grabs your behind. 
“Now why you gotta go teasin’ like that Mama,” he growls relishing in the feel of your ass beneath his fingers. He wonders how hard he would need to squeeze to leave a couple marks down there. 
“‘M sorry daddy,” you mewl unconvincingly, lowering yourself to kiss him, something you’re no longer scared to initiate. A sharp slap on your ass has you realizing he meant business right now. But still you wait for him to tell you what to do. 
He’s taught you well.
“Well now you gotta fix it Sweetheart,” he purrs, and you shudder as his thumbs glide up your inner thighs, . “Can’t have your daddy goin’ out there lookin’ like this now can we?”
You shake your head no and the desire to just bend you over and take you like an animal grew but he wanted you to finish what you started. Granted you may not have started this specifically this morning but there ain’t no getting around the fact that this all started with you. 
He bites his lip to really focus on you in that moment; that little contented sigh that would fall from your lips feeling the fat head of his cock brush up against your eager clit, before turning into a lazy smile, as you slowly but surely guide him to that place he loves so much. That filthy moan that falls from your lips as he finally begins the descent into your entrance, before it turns into a needy little whine as he slowly retracts his hips and before he suddenly slams them back into you full force. 
That little wiggle your ass does as you give a breathy “daddy” is all the encouragement he needs before he presses upward. One hand threads through his own right on your hip, while the other . The whiny little noises you make each time he even nudges that precious little spot you bashfully admitted only he was ever able to reach. 
The material of your nightie by now has fully slipped off your shoulders, now leaving it only as a useless ring of fabric around your waist. You don’t seem to mind a single bit as you eagerly bounce up and down his cock, your gorgeous tits on full display and, to his chagrin, offensively clear of any bruises. In fact a quick once over of your body shows that the marks he’s left on you before were already healing up. 
He’s really gotta do something about that soon. Afterall for as smart as you can be, you’re often liable to forgetting who you belong to. 
But for as tempting as your nipples can be, he actively has to stave off his own desires, just to fully appreciate the image before him. That of the good doctor fucking herself stupid on his cock as she shamelessly licks her own juices right off his fingers, and begs for more from her daddy while the early morning rays give an almost angelic appearance. But that image of purity is swiftly done away with as he reaches around you and with his still wet fingers he lightly presses on that tight ring of muscle you’re far too demure to ever ask him about but he knew you loved when he did this. And with tears in your eyes and unrestrained cries flying from your lips, you seemingly fall apart and your walls clamp down on him like a vice.
Truly there ain’t ever gonna be a more perfect woman, he thinks as feels euphoria rocket through him and he proceeds to paint your inner walls white. Your hips stutter as you try to catch your breath, still quivering through some aftershocks, and you try to catch yourself on your hand from fully collapsing into him. Well he ain’t having none of that, and he wraps his arms around you to bring you as close as possible to him, never wanting to let you go.
Though the absolute best part for him is that you no longer get that left over guilty look afterward. The shy act was cute the first few months but as time went on it lost its appeal and he wished you would stop treating him like something you had to feel ashamed of. But now when you open your eyes to look at him all he sees are equal parts adoration and hunger. And it’s all for him.
Thanks to you he’s gotten far better in terms of communicating what he wants from people and it’s probably the worst kept secret in all of Graceland how much he wants and needs you at any given moment. You're able to ignite him in ways no girl has ever been able to do, and he doubts there will ever be another like you.
Though he thinks he most especially loves mornings like these because it’s all the proof he needs that that old job of yours wasn’t worth all the trouble it was causing in your head. After all, how can anything that doesn’t hurt no one and makes you feel this good be bad?
He ain’t one to talk though, he remembers those early months when he did try to fight off his feelings for you.
It’s wild to think he ever had doubts about therapy. Dr. Wilson was fine so far in that he was able to help him through his addiction without making him feel awful about it while also helping him realize that there was a lot more going on in his need for the drugs that he wasn’t even aware of. He was always able to remain coolly neutral no matter what ever fucked up thing the rockstar had told him. Elvis got the sense that he had been at this so long and with so many different celebrities that hardly anything phased him at this point. Which was good in a way, didn’t make him feel so outta place there but it also felt so…impersonal. As though the person that came right before him or right after him would get the same advice and insights as he did. 
Overall he was fine in terms of easing him into therapy and being able to express his thoughts and feelings with someone without having to be afraid of being judged. But he will admit that Wilson did do right by him by recommending you in the first place. 
He still remembers that day, there was an odd sense of euphoria to not only have a name for what he had but also that there were specialists who could handle this sort of thing professionally. But at the same time it clashed with his hope of his life going back to the way it was any time soon.
“Co-dependency is a relatively new term within the psychology community, so there aren’t many who are equipped to handle this condition.” Wilson says, eyes firmly on his notes. “But you’re in luck as I believe there is a specialist located in the Memphis area last I checked.”
“Doc, you sure I even need this?” he would question, as he fidgeted with the sleeve of his robe, the material having become a tad bit scratchier than when he had arrived. “I mean I don’t, even get cravin’s for them pills no more.” 
“Yes Elvis, we’ve treated the more overt and life-threatening symptoms of your addiction, but we’ve yet to truly tap into the underlying cause. Without doing that you would be liable to fall right back into old habits all over again. Maybe not with the pills, but some other vice.” he says calmly. “It’s why we enforce rules as to moderation within the facility as oftentimes getting rid of one addiction will lead to seeking solace in another. You’ve done better than most in abstaining from the more overt addictions and in order to keep up with this, I think it would be best if you continue treatment with Dr. Y/L/N.”
Elvis has a long sigh at this but he does genuinely want to get better, yet he still holds doubt as to whether more of this is necessary. He thinks at best you will be able to show him what to look out for in people that could take advantage of him again and you could go your separate ways after a few sessions. After all he did at least want to show Priscilla that he was actually making an effort to get better, and what better way than to keep going to therapy. 
He hesitated a bit during that first call, when he found out you were a woman. He knows it’s a whole new era and women can work outside the home if they want and all that, but he still wasn’t too sure about it. And he ain’t never met a woman who called herself a doctor, so there was that. 
But he also knew himself well enough to know that any excuse he could get to get out of going he would take, and having to drive all the way from Memphis to Nashville was a pretty good one. Besides women are naturally good with talking and feelings and shit, so it kinda makes sense in a way to see a woman about this kind of stuff. So it was worth a shot. 
That all changed when he met you in person for the first time. What he almost immediately noticed about you was how warm your eyes were. Not necessarily in color, but how you looked genuinely happy to see him. And not just in the way he’s used to from women who want him, but more… something he can’t quite put his finger on. But when you looked at him for the first time he felt as though he was being seen as Elvis, not just as The Elvis Presely. 
“Good afternoon, Mr. Presley, it’s nice to meet you.” You said to him with a friendly smile on your face and a firm handshake.
“Same here, Dr. Y/L/N,” he would say, as all of his doubts seemed to melt away. You were beautiful in a way he wasn’t used to, all professional and button-upped like a secretary yet also comforting and very approachable like a librarian. It was an odd combination no doubt but you pulled it off well. 
There’s something about you that just puts his mind at ease, not only as you talk but as you listen. He felt like he was being heard instead of just listened to, which isn’t something he ever realized was lacking in his life. When you sat there you looked as though you could listen to him talk for hours, not the slightest bit of impatience to be seen. And the way you looked at him as he talked, as much as you may have been trying to hide it, he saw that you felt what he felt when talking about these things, his joy in performing, his sadness over the state of his family, his anger at Colonel. 
That was another thing, the little tidbits of advice you gave, that in retrospect seem so obvious, but hearing it from you that Parker didn't have any control over him anymore and he didn’t have to call him something that made it look like that. It’s hard to believe you're younger than him and yet so much wiser.
There was one thing you said to him toward the end of that first session and you were talking about his goals overall. 
“There’s a lotta things I want Doc,” he says. “I want my family back. I want to get back with ‘Cilla. I want to get back into music and perform again. I… want to know what to look out for so I don’t make the same mistake again.”
That last one apparently peaks your interest, as you say with a gentle smile on your lips, “Mr. Presley, many people when they walk into my office expect to be given answers as to their conditions or the issues ongoing in their lives. But the reality is that I don’t have the answers but what I can do is act as a guide so that you may be able to find what you may be looking for in a healthy and effective manner.” 
”I-I think I see what you’re sayin’ Doc,” he says. “A-and you can call me Elvis,” he states, ifa bit shyer this time around.
“Of course Elvis,” you say with a smile radiating warmth. “Now, as we’re getting towards the end of our session, I would like to express my goals for you.” 
He’s very curious as to what you have to say, so he leans forward eager to listen.
“Elvis, contrary to what it may sound like, my goal is not to espouse total self-reliance and to never trust anyone again. Nor is it for you to simply find ‘better’ people to rely on totally,” you say. “My goal for you, as it is for all of my patients, is to trust yourself most of all to know what’s best for you. Good or bad, regardless of another's opinions, these are your choices to make.” 
Those are simple words but they have a monumental impact on his perspective of things. And for the first time in a long time he looks at you and sees someone he can trust to do right by him. 
And now the first thing he’s gonna trust himself about, it’s that you’re gonna be good for him overall.
It was a bit difficult to get into the whole routine of seeing you, especially as he didn’t want certain people in his circle knowing that he was even still going to therapy. Not even necessarily because he feared it would somehow get back to the papers but because most of them were all under the same belief that therapy was just a crock of shit and all he needed to do was man up. So he just simply didn’t bring it up to them specifically and let only a few people really know what he was doing. And only they know just so they can sufficiently cover his ass when he’s out with you. 
None of them seemed to mind his scheduled “alone times” too much since he always came back and nothing newsworthy would happen so they let him be. 
Over the next few weeks he found himself looking forward to sessions with you. He’s taking his health seriously, he’s getting to see Lisa more and more, he’s sleeping better, everything in his life is slowly but surely improving thanks to you. Though the better sleep had its flaws as he had been having some weird dreams for awhile. Not so much nightmares, but they definitely left him with some odd feelings in the morning. 
They almost always started off the same way, he was back on that couch in Dr. Wilson’s office and the way he was being spoken to, it felt less like therapy and more like an interrogation. He would never remember what he was being asked, but the longer it went on the worse he would feel. 
And then you walk into the office and Wilson disappears. In the beginning you would simply take Wilson’s seat, and he feels himself start to relax. Something about you just made it easy to do so. You could even be asking the same questions Wilson was asking, but you’re far gentler in your delivery, and it helps ease the answers out.
A lot of his dreams have been going this way but recently you’ve been getting closer and closer, and now you sit beside him on the sofa. You would rub his back, play with his hair and even sometimes hold his hand all the while listening to what he had to say. Which then progressed to him even laying his head in your lap.
He vividly remembers how he would nuzzle into your chest as you continuously ran your nails through his hair. Neither of you speak but he can’t recall ever feeling so at peace than in those imaginary moments with you. 
Of course there were also less than wholesome dreams where he the ones where you ride him right into the couch or he takes you on your desk. Though arguably the most memorable had to be when he rested his head on your lap as he’d done in his dreams a million times before and you would slowly unbutton your blouse. 
Undoubtedly one of the most fucked up things he’s ever dreamt as you proceeded to jerk him off as he sucked on those gorgeous tits of yours. But still he couldn’t get out of his head that look of utter adoration in your eyes as you threaded your fingers in his hair and whispered how he was a good boy.
He woke up that morning needing to literally peel his pants off of him. 
He’s not an idiot. He has a daughter and so he knows what that could only look like from the outside. He has a pretty good idea what it may mean, seeing you in such a motherly role, but he’s also seen Psycho and knows he’s far from dressing up as his Mama to stab women in the shower. So really it doesn’t mean anything.
“Doc?” he asks, and you look up from your notes. He knows he should probably bring up the dreams, as you’ll definitely have something to say about it. But seeing you in that Turtleneck that made your tits look phenomenal made his brain short circuit a bit, and he worries even hinting at anything like this may scare you off and have you believing he’s a Norman Bates type. So instead he asks, “Why don’t you got one a them couches?”
Your brow furrows at that. “A… fainting couch?” You ask tentatively.
“That’s the one,” he snaps his fingers. “Why don’tcha got one of those?”
“Oh, well…” you say, pausing to bite your lip, looking for the right words. This simple act causes him to swallow hard, and he prays you don’t notice as you continue. “Given the patients I work with, I find that keeping us on the same level is far more beneficial than the alternative. It acts as a good reminder that we’re equals in this environment,” you explain with a gentle smile.
“Same level huh?” he questions. “So if I sat down on the floor you would follow?”
“If that’s where you feel most comfortable,” you say amused.
He doesn’t exactly know why, but part of his brain took that as a challenge, while the other part wanted to really test as to whether or not you would follow through. In either case he gets off his chair only to lie flat on his back on the shag carpet of your office. He looks back up and sees you raise an eyebrow at his antics, with a look of “seriously?” on your face. There is a bit of a stare down before you let out a small defeated sigh before you make motions to follow suit. 
“Don’t say I’m not a woman of my word,” you would explain as you lay down on the floor parallel to him, though the table kept a good distance between the two of you. Not an easy feat for you considering you were wearing a skirt that day, but in spite of that you were somehow able to make the act look as dignified as possible. Though that doesn’t prevent a brief but very dangerous image of you hiking up your skirt and taking a seat over his face. 
Woah… Where did that come from? he would ask himself as he ripped his eyes away from you and looked up at the ceiling. 
“Comfortable?” Both real and fantasy you would question. 
“Very,” he would answer, lying only slightly.
You give a mirthful smile before you get right back to business. “Now that we’re down here, I would like to discuss some of your risk-taking behavior upon your return from Germany,” 
“I wouldn’t say layin’ down on the floor is risky,” he quips. He’s trying hard to not focus on the gap that’s appeared between the buttons of your shirt nor the way that your notebook keeps your skirt from sliding down further. But at the same time focusing on your face right now feels dangerous for some reason he can’t quite place.
Something blooms in his chest when he hears you huff in amusement at him. “I’ll admit not my most graceful of transitions, but my point still stands. When you look back on your time after your return stateside, do you believe you were doing things that were considered far more risky?”
“I mean… I guess,” he would admit. “Aside from the drugs, nothin’ too wild, really. Just pushin’ each other down… and drivin’ around real fast… and shootin’ fireworks at each other… I see what your sayin’.” It’s funny that he only now realizes just by talking to you about them. 
“And nobody ever protested to you doing these things?” 
“Well my daddy did at first, but then stopped once he figured I wouldn’t stop. Most times it was The Colo-shit! Parker… he was the one who always made big stink ‘bout what I was doin’ if it was dangerous or made me look bad.” 
You bring your pen to your mouth, simply resting it on your lips, mulling over his words before you say, “Elvis correct me if I’m wrong, but it sounds to me that Parker occupied a very… parental role in your life?”
“I guess,” he says, unsure of it until a long dormant memory comes barreling to mind as he recalls his own words to that man from what felt a lifetime ago. “I even said as much to him at my own Mama’s funeral.” He says covering his eyes, and taking a deep breath, willing no tears to fall right in front of you. “I feel like such a fool.”
And then he feels something on his palm. He looks to his side to see that your hand now holds his. It’s such a simple gesture, one that anybody could have done, but coming from you it feels like everything.
“Elvis…” you start off slowly, your thumb rubbing soothing lines onto the back of his hand. “Grief is a terrible thing to experience. It can knock out your knees and snatch the breath right out of your lungs. And it’s certainly not uncommon for people like that to take advantage of those in such a vulnerable position.” you say in your most soothing voice. 
“Don’t think less of yourself for staying as long as you did. Instead I ask you to think of it as you left when you were ready to do so.”
He has to pause to contemplate your words for a second there, because it’s such a simple twist of perspective but it seems to make all the difference as he feels a long present weight of guilt lift. “Yeah… yeah you’re right,” he says, his chest filling with a sense of warmth he hadn’t realized he’s been missing for a while now. “I-I took all of the rat bastards shit for years, because I could take it… a-and I left when I didn’t want to do that no more.” 
“Exactly,” you say, slipping out of his grasp and giving a friendly pat on his hands as you return to your side of the table. 
The rest of the session is pretty light, all things considered, talking about Music, something he can do at literally any given moment and he left your office that day with a newfound appreciation for women’s office wear. He gets the sense that it’s very intentional on your part. The way you can steer a conversation is so fucking impressive and it served you well when you were dodging something.
But he eventually learned your ways. And he was able to get you to open up about yourself like when you learned his favorite hero growing up was Captain Marvel Jr. and you confided in him your favorite was Wonder Woman, and how you learned to appreciate her even more when you learned she was created by a Psychologist. Or when he told you about his sleep troubles and you taught him your trick to falling asleep was to eat Pancakes, something that came as a bit of a routine from your waitressing days since that was your usual order at the end of your shift. Little things that made you more than just his shrink to him. 
He swears he didn’t realize what he was doing at first, and it wasn’t until Jerry pointed it out to him that same night. He and the rest were at some show that he doesn’t really remember, and he sees you walk past the table he was at. He’s so caught off guard that he even turns his head fully around as you walk away.
Jerry knows about his therapy and tends to cover for him when he goes to see you, but has never actually met you, so it surprised him when Jerry asked if he wanted him to go get you for him. 
He’s glad for the low lighting of this place as he doubts he would otherwise be able to hide his inflamed face right now. “What? No… No. Wh-why’d ya’ think I want her?”
“Well she’s your type ain’t she?” he asks, glancing at the bar behind Elvis’ shoulder where you’re standing. Elvis is trying hard not to look back because the dress you’re wearing is far more revealing than he’s ever seen you wear, and he doubts if he keeps looking he’ll be able to stop, still that question eats at him. 
“The hell are you on Jer?” 
“EP, you’re a lot a things,” Jerry says as he gets up, patting him on the back. “Subtle ain’t one a them.” 
He knows one more word and Jerry will stop and not approach you, but something stops him from doing so. He figures you’re going to say no anyway, as you made it clear in your first session that you were never going to approach a patient in public, and that’ll be the end of that. Still the thought of you saying no does leave a sour taste in his mouth that the whiskey can’t quite chase away. He steals a glance over his shoulder and with the better lighting at the bar he realizes that that girl ain’t you. Her nose is a different shape, hair color is not quite right in the new light, and this girl doesn’t have quite the same dignified posture that you’ve got.
He shakes his head at these thoughts. It’s ridiculous that he even thought that was you for even a second. You work everyday and he doubts this would be your scene on a Thursday night. He imagines you would be in bed by now or at least settling by this time. You have the look of a good girl who reads at night to fall asleep and he can just about picture the way you would look lounging against a headboard that looks suspiciously familiar. This line of thought leads to him idly wondering what you wear to bed at night, which is quickly broken when Jerry approaches with the girl. 
The girl has a face-splitting grin and in her eyes, he finds that star-struck look he’s seen in hundreds of other women's eyes before her. Despite her eyes being similar in color he can’t help but be reminded of the stark difference in your eyes when he met you for the first time. She’s seeing a god where you saw a man.
Still he tries to give the girl, Jackie, a fair shake, but the longer the night goes on the more he has to pick apart. Her voice is a little too high-pitched to be yours. Her make-up, not as pristine as yours usually is. Even her nails seem to annoy him as they are a little longer than how you usually keep them, and they only really drew his attention while she was drumming them along the table as he spoke. The girl is practically shaking in her seat, itching to get out of here with him. 
Well at least this one knows what she wants, he thinks to himself as he asks if she would mind a more quiet place to talk. 
It’s wrong on so many levels what he’s doing, and he recognizes that as he puts his arm around her shoulders and leads her out of the place. Jane gushes about how big of a fan she’s been since she was a kid and how this is a dream come true. All Elvis could really focus on is if he squints just hard enough he can almost see you saying that to him, and that’s just enough to get him going, as he buries his face into the girl's neck, and he hears sweet moans he wishes came from you. 
Jenna was gone come morning, and Elvis is glad for that small mercy. And in the early morning rays, Elvis is left alone with his thoughts, and he gets to truly think about the women he’s been with recently. He thinks of Shannon who drew his eye when he got a whiff of her perfume, and it happened to be the same one he knows you’ve worn before, and he would bury his face in her neck as he pounded into her. Amy whose hair was almost the exact same color as yours and whom he really only liked taking from the behind without truly looking at her face. Carol whose voice sounded eerily close to yours and in the dark he was able to imagine someone else entirely as she moaned his name over and over again. And finally there was Jamie who was almost the spitting image of you save for a few things here and there.
It’s nothing, he tries to lie to himself. 
It doesn’t matter.
They don’t matter. 
They shouldn’t matter really, they were all gone before the morning came, so obviously none of them weren’t interested in anything serious. Which is good…
…Right?
It fucks with his head something fierce, that he ends up bringing it up the next time he sees you. “I think I lost my way with women.” he would say as soon as he sat down, before you even got a chance to crack open your little notebook. 
You quickly put the pen between your lips, in that cute way he likes, to hold while you open your notebook, and ask “in what regard Elvis?” This has got to be a sign as to how comfortable he’s gotten with you. He would never have dared to talk about something like this with anyone else, not so much because he feared that he would be laughed at, but because more than likely he would be plastered with denials and reassurances as to how much of a ladies man he still is, without ever even getting into detail why he felt like that. 
Still he finds himself clamming up, wishing to take the words back, shame burning in his belly over these thoughts. You were having none of it, as you put down your notebook and pen on the table between the two of you and lean forward. “Elvis you can talk about this with me,” you coax in your softest voice, something he’s come to expect look forward to. 
He smiles at this as he’s come to appreciate this about you. You get right to work and listen as he expresses his fears about his romantic life. You’re a great listener, though he supposes that comes with the job, but in the way you move and watch him, he never doubts that you are. You’re always watching him, you rarely if ever glance at the clock, and nothing about your body language ever says that you’re getting tired of hearing him talk. Even Wilson had that annoying leg bounce thing toward the end of sessions with him. 
The only thing he could really complain about was how often you touched your lips while listening. Whether it was simply resting a fist to your mouth or pinching your bottom lip, you’re almost always doing something of the like when you’re concentrating he’s noticed. He doubts you’re doing it on purpose, but he still finds it very distracting. That being said he was never about to tell you to stop. 
“Elvis as I understand this dilemma you’re having,” you say. “You’re worried that the only type of women you attract these days are women who are not seeking long-term relationships.” 
“I don’t know Doc, it might be nothin’,” he says, still trying to downplay how uncomfortable the concept makes him. “
“If it bothers you Elvis, then it’s not nothing,” you gently encourage. “People thrive on connections to one another, and I’m glad to see that you’re taking steps to establish new connections after all that you’ve faced before. Perhaps these women aren’t all opposed to a romantic relationship, but they may perhaps be under the impression that you are, given your fame.” 
“So my reputations workin’ against me on this,” he asks solemnly. 
“In a sense, yes. Reputation is a bit of a funny thing like that,” you say. “It’s not so much your actions that make it up, but other’s perceptions of said actions. And if you feel you’re ready to embark on a new long-term relationship, then I would encourage you to start on a solid foundation of honesty.”
“What do you mean? Tell them I’m lookin’ to get married again?”
This gets a small huff of laughter out of you, “Perhaps not that strong in the beginning,” you say. “But something along the lines of… ‘when can we meet up again?’ just a little something like that to establish that you are at the very least interested in a long-term relationship.”
“Doc, would you wanna be with me,” he says, and he would be lying if he says he didn’t enjoy the way your eyes practically bugged out of your head before he recovered with a “or someone with a reputation like me?”
You try to pass off your sigh of relief as simply a deep breath before you answer with, “I personally try not to let others' perceptions of potential partners affect my own feelings toward them. And I reassure you that there are others of the same mind and should you signal that you want something more… permanent, you’ll find someone.” you say with a reassuring smile on your face. “While we’re still on this topic as to your romantic life…” you trail off slightly. “You stated one of your goals in therapy was to rekindle your relationship with your Ex-Wife. Is she the one you’re talking about trying to have a relationship with?”
“... no,” he sighs, as he eyes you sitting directly across from him. “I-I love her and all but… I-I don’t know if I want her in the same way I did before. And… I-I think I want someone else.” He thinks this is the first time he’s been able to say this out loud, but it admittedly does feel like a weight lifted off his shoulders as he admits to it. You give a soft, reassuring smile at his words, and while he knows that it’s probably because you’re happy to see him moving forward with his life, a small part of him wants to believe it’s because you want him to be available.
“I understand, Elvis,” you reassure him. “And rest assured that should you at any point choose otherwise you’re, of course, free to do so.”
He leaves later on reassured in his worth as a partner, but the thought that you had been approached by men before leaves an otherwise good meeting with a sour note. That’s the first time he realizes that you have a life outside of your office and somehow worse, you have other patients you talk to. It’s like seeing a teacher at a grocery store and realizing they don’t live at school.
He knows it ain’t right to feel this way, that you’re a person too, who has more to offer than just what you do for your job. But he can’t help the way he feels. Saddest part is the person he would go to talk about these feelings with is the person he has to talk about. 
And so rather than actually dealing with it, head on he tried to satisfy these feelings for you in other ways, but he promised himself he would never act on them. 
At least… not yet.
It was working for a time, he would see you twice a week, he would bear his soul to you alone, and slowly but surely you also opened up to him as well. There were small comments here and there about simple preferences which eventually gave way to you talking a bit about your time and school and your friends, and to his relief you never brought up any sort of boyfriend. But outside of your office he accepted that he did in fact have a “type” and most of his boys made it their mission to find girls that look even a little bit like you. 
And yet the more he saw you, the more he fell for you. 
After the wine incident he knew he couldn’t deny himself what he wanted anymore and he gradually started to lay the groundwork in order to make that happen. 
When he would casually slip in pet names for you, kiss the back of your hand, or even when he would linger a little too long after a session you never said anything about it. And he always took that as an opportunity to go further and further each time. 
He even started reading up on Psychology, and to his surprise some of it was down right fascinating, especially learning how it stems from Physiology meeting Philosophy. Sure the dog studies and the Milgram experiment ended up being very useful to him later on, but he does believe Freud was onto something there. But he can’t wrap his head around why you tend to get very skittish when you do on occasion bring up his Mama.
He likes to think she would’ve liked you very much for how smart and responsible you are. She maybe wouldn’t have loved the whole working outside of home thing, but he eventually fixed that. 
The same way he taught himself to play music was the same way  he got you to fall in love with him: laser-sharp focus and unwavering persistence.
But then you had to go and almost throw that all away. You spat in the face of his gift and tried to reprimand him for doing a nice thing for you. So he had to play it cool for a while after that. You seemed to retreat a bit from him, but you were no less warm and caring for him. You even stopped really remarking when he would “accidentally” bump into you when you’re out and about. 
But no dice the next time he tried. It was only as Jerry returned with a guilty look on his face did he realize his mistake in A. sending someone else and B. not framing it as a part of his therapy, which he knows you wouldn’t have refused. 
“EP…” Jerry says lightly. “Y-your shrink…”
“What ‘bout her Jerry,” Elvis asks in no mood after your refusal.  
“I-I noticed that she-she kinda looks like some a the girls you been seein’,” he swallows a bit. Seemingly praying to god he’s wrong about this.
“No,” the rockstar says simply, not really caring to beat around the bush anymore, and Jerry seems almost relieved until he continues. “They look like her,” and for as callous as it sounds he can’t even muster an ounce of sympathy for them, as though it’s their fault that they’re not you. But the reality is, none of them could hold a candle to you, and they only matter so far in preventing him from getting too frustrated with how slow you're taking things. 
“Elvis… I-I don’t think it-it’s such a good idea to get so… involved with your doctor again,” Jerry would say tentatively, unsure how he would react. 
“Jerry,” he says, trying to control his temper, and remembering those breathing exercises you went over with him. “I think my business is my business.”
“I-I know but-”
“But nothin’ Jerry!” he yells. “Y’all had fuck all to say when I was runnin’ myself in the grave! And now that I’m gettin back on track, now you wanna step in?!” Jerry gaped at him, before quickly shutting his mouth, a guilty look taking over his face as he looked down at the ground, having nothing to say. “Get the fuck outta my face Jerry.”
Jerry and the rest that knew about you since the beginning would eventually come around on you, seeing hat you did for him and how much he needed you. It served him all the better later on. Though now that all feels like ancient history now, especially now that you’re together in private, in public, and pretty soon under the eyes of the lord.
As far as you know Elvis didn’t want to acknowledge the “blackmail” and simply announced your engagement. He didn’t even want to acknowledge Parker, as that would imply there’s anything wrong with your relationship that he could have exploited.
The way he tells the story is that a couple months after rehab, he was out and about in Memphis when you caught his eye from across the room. He described it as nothing short of love at first sight, but the problem was he had no idea how to approach a woman as sophisticated as you. It was made all the worse when he did approach and you introduced yourself as Dr. Y/L/N, you weren’t so awestruck by him, and in fact talked to him like a normal person. He was so caught off guard that when you had revealed that you were a therapist he jumped at the chance and said he had been looking for one in the area after rehab and you had given him your business card.
How the next few months were about how you became his therapist, and how he was more or less scheming to sweep you off your feet the moment he could. How you tried your best to keep things professional until you could no longer deny your feelings nor could he deny his. None of which was a lie, but he did have to clean up the story for the reporters (didn’t stop Penthouse from begging for the dirtier details).
The story was simple, almost the ideal story of the recovery of a troubled man and how it was the love of a good woman that helped him heal from all of it (Say what you will, he knows you’ve loved him longer than you’re willing to admit). And the people ate it up. 
Everybody could see how good you were for him, how he’s back and better than ever because of your efforts. 
He wishes you wouldn’t focus so much on the others who want to make this out as a bad thing for either of you. They don’t know you and they especially don't know him, so how can they judge what either of you do. That board of therapists may say that the two of you being together is wrong, and for a time you may even have believed that but he knows in his heart of hearts that this was meant to be. 
Afterall you yourself showed him how other people’s perceptions of you shouldn’t affect your own perception of yourself. 
As far as days in Graceland it’s a pretty typical and quiet one, Mary makes the two of you breakfast, you both practice tai chi while it’s still early, you sit with him at the piano as he worked on music, and later he would bend you over the piano so you could make some music for him, you have lunch. It’s looking to be a perfect day. 
You’re never too far from him anymore but he doesn’t think he’ll ever have enough of you. He wouldn’t have it any other way. 
Sometime after lunch, Jerry comes around with those books you ordered. As much as you tried to hide it at first, he could see you were excited for the world tour. Studying up on the history of practically every city he was going to be performing in, trying to learn a couple languages, sharing almost everything with him. 
You look so in your element when you’re reading, and he can’t help but intrude and make his dreams into a reality. You're startled at first as he rests his head in your lap, but you quickly adjust and ease into the new position.
He’s close to purring with the way you run your nails along his scalp, so familiar and comforting a gesture that it’s not long before his eyelids go heavy and he finds himself drifting off to sleep with a smile on his face. 
With you around, sleep is coming easier and easier these days. You worry about this, fearing that he would become too dependent on you for sleep. 
He can’t help it that you’re such a dependable person. 
He would wake up later, only the slightest bit distressed that you were gone, but he knows that you wouldn’t have gone too far. And he didn’t have to look too hard to find you, as you stepped out of your dressing room, and sees you wearing something very familiar.
He doesn’t think he'll ever forget that night.
He thought at the time that nothing could happen between you two. He had accepted that at first, tried to content himself to having you in his life in whatever way he could, even if only platonically. He admits he may have stalled some days, especially the sessions after you would remark how far he’s come in therapy, all in order to drag out his time with you. 
It truly felt like the stars had aligned for the both of you that night. He wasn’t really one for fancy places like this, any other day he would have taken a cheap little diner, but he had been craving a real good steak for a while and figured some fancy place like this would be his best bet. Imagine his surprise when he just idly glanced down at the reservation book and saw your name.
He had been hoping to build something between the two of you outside of your office for a while by that point, but that day you just so happened to have ended up at the same restaurant as him. This just solidified in his head that the two of you were meant to be, because it couldn’t be just a coincidence that the two of you ended up at the same place that night. He gathered up the nerve to approach you that night, thinking about what you said as to how you would like to be approached by a man, ready to put himself out there. 
His breath hitches as he sees the little white dress you’re wearing and his palms sweat a bit when he approaches. Overall he feels like a kid trying to ask the prettiest girl for a dance, terrifying yet exhilarating all the same.
“Dr. Y/L/N, funny meeting you here,” Elvis would say in his best attempt to sound casual. 
“Mr. Presley, how are you?” you would say, surprise evident in your eyes but the small smile on your face genuine as any. 
“I’m doin’ just fine.” 
“That’s good to hear. I’m glad.”
“Are you here alone?” he gently probes, trying to figure out a way to get the rest to leave the table if he can get you to join him. 
“No, my date is just in the restroom.” you say pointing in the general direction of the bathroom.
Something almost akin to betrayal flashes through him in that moment, but he quickly tries to stamp it down as even he realizes that he had no right to feel that way. “Well, have a good night.” he says, trying to be as amiable as possible. 
“You too,” you say with an uneasy look in your eyes. 
Gorgeous girl like her, it’d be crazy for her not to have a date, he thinks, sitting back down with his buddies. Not a single one of them acknowledges what just happened and somehow it feels all the worse. Still it doesn’t sit right with him, the idea of you being out of your office and looking so beautiful and only to waste it on some undeserving mook. 
But… in all the months he’s been seeing you, he ain’t ever seen a ring on your finger, so he doubts it’s that serious. He can’t see your table, which he’s thankful for, because it at least removes the temptation to keep looking your way. But with how sparsely populated the restaurant is at this point he can just barely make out your voice, and he can clearly hear your laugh. It’s such a beautiful thing to hear, and it takes him fully out of the conversation he’s having with Sonny, which pretty much makes all of them take notice of how weird he’s acting but they won’t say anything about it. 
But quickly bitterness takes over in his mouth when he hears the accompanying chuckle from your faceless companion. Especially when he’s only ever awarded small huffs of amusement in your office while that motherfucker can get you to laugh like that.
… He really shouldn’t be thinking like this… 
It practically spits in the face of all you’ve been doing for him to go back to his old jealous ways. He drinks some of the wine to calm himself down and earnestly tries to go back to the talk he was having. 
He does try, but by the third glass in, he becomes a bit distracted by the wine. He’s not usually much of a fan of the stuff, but even he can appreciate a good bottle when he has it. Not too sweet but just enough to mask the burn of alcohol, while pairing well with his steak.
All he’s really thinking at that moment is how much you would probably appreciate it too. So he flags down the stuffy waiter and insists that a similar bottle be brought to your table, on him of course. 
He doesn’t really think too much of it, and later as Charlie’s doing his best impression of Parker to a host of hoots and hollers from the rest, does the waiter return. “Your friends send their thanks for the wine,” he says simply walking away. 
So you took it… he finds it very interesting. 
If there was nothing there, you could have said no and he would’ve put it behind him. But you accepted the wine… there had to be something more to it. Especially since you were on a “date” with another man, and what woman accepts a drink from another man if she wasn’t at the very least interested. 
As he leaves, there is a part of him that aches leaving you behind, especially with another man, and the only solace he takes is that you accepting that bottle of wine had to mean something. 
His home feels achingly empty as he walks in, even as he’s surrounded by his buddies. He’s trying to follow your advice with the whole set sleep schedule thing so it’s only midnight by the time he walks through his front door. 
Even if come Monday you flat out reject him, he tries to content himself to have you just be his therapist. How maybe even after you graduate him out you can still continue being friends outside of your office and he won’t have to lose you as well.
Still all of that rings hollow that night as he recalls furiously jerking himself off in his bed, tears streaming down his face and your name on his lips, as he thought of you in that dress. What’s worse is that the fantasy he has of you is not even necessarily erotic, and by most standards, it’s practically mundane. But it’s precisely because of how normal it is that it feels so foreign yet nonetheless attractive to him, and thus far more dangerous than any wet dream he’s had of you before. 
He imagines bringing you to Graceland from the restaurant. How you would strip yourself of that dress, effortlessly seductive as you swap it for a nightie, and how you would get a little bashful as you notice him staring before crawling into bed beside him. But unlike other dreams he has of you, you simply lay back and allow him to bury his face in your chest. “What’s on your mind Elvis?” you would ask him. 
He can almost feel the scrape of your nails on his scalp, as you listen to his woes. The slight rise and fall of your chest as he rests his head on it. How all of your ministrations are comforting and relaxing rather than teasing or playful, like your content to simply sit and be with him alone rather than doing anything else. Like you’re there for him, not for Elvis Presley.
He wanted that. He wanted you. 
And now he has you.
And nothing will ever take you away.
“Mmm, I remember this,” he hums to you while wrapping his arms around your waist as you put the finishing touches to your face. You preen under his attention, and wriggle a little as his fingers brush the hem of your skirt, both of you practically itching for a repeat of that first concert. 
While in general he would have preferred you wore something he gave you, he has no doubt that the dress is not gonna survive the night once you get home. 
“Where you headin’ lookin’ this good?” he asks, trying not to sound too sore about it. 
You sigh as you put down your brush, squaring your shoulders as though you’re about to step into a battlefield. “Ma’s throwing me a Bridal shower remember,” you answer. 
Yeah he does remember, but he honestly wishes you hadn’t. Though he can hardly begrudge you for being less than ecstatic about your party, as he also doesn’t want you to go but for very different reasons. Try as he might, he couldn’t justify going with you, and just the idea of you being out of reach made his stomach uneasy. His only solace in the situation was that he was able to convince your Mama to not invite any of your old college girlfriends, as the last thing he needs is for any of them to be putting ideas in your head again. 
Besides, it marks the first time in awhile since he’s gotten all of his buddies together at once, so he’s determined to enjoy the night as much as he can without you. He thinks he’s had his fill of the bachelor life, so his party ain’t nothing too crazy all things considered. 
For as much as he did clean house once he booted Parker out, there were still those in his circle he could do without personally but still served their purposes well. 
He’s made it clear he won’t stand for any of them talking any kind of nonsense about you, but that doesn’t stop them from bemoaning the “life” he’s giving up all in order to get hitched yet again. The partying, the girls, the drugs he would give up ten times over for you. 
By midnight he’s even close to calling it for the night hoping that you’ll be home soon.
For as much as they rag on him for becoming so domesticated he’s well aware of the fact that they are nonetheless happy for your presence in his life. He knows that while some of them are genuinely glad that he’s now better for his own sake, he’s all too aware that some of them only “care” because their very livelihoods depend on him.
Not you though. What you gave up when you thought you were protecting him, you proved yourself to be far more caring and loyal than anyone he’s ever met. And he rests easier knowing you’re watching out for him, even at a great cost to yourself. 
It almost makes him feel guilty for what he had to do.
Almost.
And, as though summoned, you make your way through the front door. The second you walk in, he loses interest in just about everything else in the room. You look like you just got through twelve rounds with Muhammad Ali.
He already knows you don’t got the best relationship with your folks but understands you couldn’t get out of going without raising questions. But if it went bad it saves him the trouble from having to talk you out of visiting them too often. 
Truly it makes his heart soar the way you light up a bit upon seeing him and he hopes 
And then it goes to shit. 
He sees you lazily look around the room, probably trying to figure out a tactful way to get rid of them all. But then your brow furrows, and you give the entire room a once over again, and then you seem to look intently at every single person in the room as though you’re tallying them up. And once you finish that, it only seems to distress you more. 
You’ve got that same look in your eye when you’re reading your mysteries, with your brow furrowed and your hands to your lips. He’s confused as to what may be going on in that pretty little head of yours, until he looks around and remembers that ALL of his buddies are here now.
Something that shouldn’t be if he had really handled the ones that had apparently squealed the two of you out to Parker.
Huh… you figured it out just like that, he thinks. This is honestly what he gets for choosing a smart one like you, but he can't say he’s not a little proud that you were able to do so. Besides it’s not much of a choice when it’s meant to be. 
He takes one last puff off his cigar before stamping it out into the accompanying ashtray, after all no use in trying to pretend anymore. You're cracking a case wide open in your head and he figures there ain’t no point in drawing it out for much longer. 
“Hey Charlie,” he draws out, and your eyes snap back to him, apparently terrified to be proven right. 
“Yeah EP?” he answers, always the good friend who would go along with any plan regardless of how he personally felt about it if it meant getting him back on track. 
“Why don’tcha do that voice,” he says smiling a bit as his friends goes a bit ashen at the request. “Always gets a good laugh.”
Charlie thinks he’s subtle when he steals a glance your way. He is not. 
“You sure ‘bout that EP,” he asks, nervously swallowing, his eyes begging to not have to do this. Which gets the attention of all of them, and some of them shift uncomfortably at what’s about to go down, downing the last of their drinks and nervously gathering their things hoping to make a quick getaway. The ones who don’t know are looking at Charlie anticipating a good laugh but they quickly pick up on how worried he looks and quickly follow suit, figuring nothing good would come of this. 
Elvis only has eyes for you though, morbidly curious as to how you’re going to react, the same way your eyes are firmly fixed on him, no doubt fearing that you’re right. He almost calls it off at that point, but call it what you want he believes that once this secret is over and done with, the two of you will be all the stronger for it and there will be absolutely nothing to hold you back.  
“Who am I talkin’ to?” Elvis asks Charlie all the while making full eye contact with you. Contrary to what you may believe he doesn’t in fact enjoy hurting you with these hard truths, he’s just not as skilled as you in breaking them to you in a more delicate manner.
Charlie lets out a deep, tired sigh before, without any more preamble, he says, “You’re talking to the man that gave the world Elvis Presley,” in his most perfect Parker impression. 
Your face fully falls. 
Once upon a time you had told him how sometimes people need to be guided by another to get what they wanted. And he knows for a fact that you wanted him, it was only your damn job and it’s rules that held you back. That’s where his head was at after that fucking anniversary party.
You are the only woman alive who can proudly say she’s broken his heart not once, not twice, but three times. The first time being when you threatened to switch him to another therapist, but luckily he saw right through that ploy. 
The next time when you had the gall to lie to his face about where you were going. When you started speaking about Saturday, he could feel his heart flutter a bit, truly believing you were gonna invite him to meet your folks. Even now he could imagine how it would have felt to be offered such a thing, to be brought home and be introduced as your boyfriend proper. Even after you brought up your friends he could have dealed with that if only it would bring him much more into your life. Only for you to bring him back down to Earth with your refusal to bring him.
The last time was when you couldn’t say you loved him back. God was that a kick to the chest because he may not be the smartest man, but even he knew that it meant one of two things. Either you wanted to say it and you couldn’t for whatever reason… or you didn’t love him and you were just feeling particularly guilty about it that day. ‘
He couldn’t accept that though. Something in your life was preventing you from saying it back and really he knew there could only be one thing. Was it really so monstrous to remove it if it left you feeling like this?
You love him, he knows that you do and you only need a push in the right direction in order to admit it.  
And if you didn’t… he couldn’t afford to think like that. 
So he had to push through. Had to do what was necessary. Had to believe you love him. 
Had to believe he was still worth loving.
He knew words meant nothing at the end of the day (you taught him as much) he had to find a way to prove you did love him and that you weren’t in it for yourself. 
The only question was how.
After he sees you leave that place, looking devastated, it takes everything within him to not take you in his arms. But he has a goal in mind and he has to figure out where exactly you're at mentally in order to push through. 
For all he knows you’re on your way to pack up your office right now, but he has to be sure. 
Red tries to stop him before he gets out of the car, but ends up backing off, with a single glare his way. He waits for a bit before approaching the modest looking house after you had left, and knocks on the door, and once it opens he has to remind himself who he’s doing this for, and knock that fucker’s lights out. 
Even when he has never met them before, people weirdly enough have a lot of trust in him. And Mark Whatever his last name is, proves to be no different. Elvis greets him with his first name and a quick hug as though they were old friends and lets himself into the house as Mark still gapes at the doorway. 
He finds a den with two identical mugs on a coffee table, and he finds a very familiar lipstick color on one of them (how could he not there’s still a ring of it around his cock). Mark shuffles his way into the sitting room, absolutely struck dumb by Elvis' presence, and Elvis finds it hard to believe that he ever saw him as a rival for your love. 
Mark notices the mugs still on the coffee table and makes a motion to grab them, stammering out an apology about the mess. Before he could do so, Elvis notices the light color from your mug and hides a self satisfied smirk at that. Where once you only took your coffee black, your tastes have now become closer aligned to his own. 
Elvis puts a hand down on the mug as he says, “Why dontcha take a seat right down there Mark?” It’s kind of pathetic really seeing a man take orders from a stranger in his own house, but it serves Elvis’ purposes all the better. And with the way Mark awkwardly takes a seat it’s apparent that he is still flustered at Elvis’ presence in his den. 
Good, he thinks. Should keep him honest.
“Wh-what’s this about?” Mark asks, uneasily.
“It’s about our good friend, Y/N of course,” he says as though it were so obvious.
“O-Oh, uh, she was over here not too long ago,” he stammered out, before his brows furrowed even more confused. “How do you know her?” 
“Through her daddy,” Elvis lies coolly. “I don’t know if you noticed but she’s been a bit outta sorts recently. And I’m hopin’ you could help me figure out what’s been botherin’ her.”
“I-I don’t think it’s my place to say,” Mark sputters out.
“C’mon Matt,” he says, leaning forward just a little bit to really sell the concern. “You can talk to me ‘bout this,” echoing your own words from way back when. 
If he noticed the wrong name he didn’t say anything as he nervously looks down at his own hands, before muttering out a soft “she’s been having some trouble with a patient of hers.”
“Huh…” he says, raising his brows a bit at this. “She tell you who?”
“She would never tell me anything like that,” he quickly defends and Elvis relaxes a bit. “But ummm… she-she just needed some advice as to how to handle this patient. And I-I let her know that whatever consequences she imagines would happen, are not as bad as the reality. So it would be better to act now as opposed to later.”
“Hmmm…” he hums, and just like that he can already feel you slipping through his fingers. But he holds on to that look you had leaving. How distressed you looked at the idea of having to drop him all together, but he also knows you’re a tough one that can make the right decisions, even when they’re hard, and that’s why he loves you so. “Tell me Max, what would you do if you were in her situation?” he asks even though he already figures the answer.
“Personally… I would’ve dropped the patient a long time ago,” he says without any remorse. He says this next part so coldly that he finds it hard to imagine that you have ever had anything in common with him save for your chosen field. “Not just because it is the right thing to do, but because, for as little information as I have about the situation, this patient is simply not worth all the grief they’re causing her.” 
But it’s not me, Elvis wanted to defend. It’s her work, if it weren’t for that gettin’ in the way she wouldn’t have to be so goddamn worried all the time. 
“And did you tell her that?” Elvis asks, worried as to what may be brewing in that little head of yours if this son of a bitch has been whispering in your ear.
“God no,” the professor says. “I told her to do what she can live with. But I know her,” he says leaning back, sure in his opinion, though unaware that these words perhaps just saved his life. “She’s gonna make the right choice on her own or it won’t mean much.”
For all his degrees, he doesn’t know what the fuck he’s talking about, is all Elvis can really think in that moment. He can’t possibly even begin to understand the kind of relationship you have with him, and how in fact he is the right choice for you, as you’re his. 
If a baby was about to walk into a pool, would he just let it happen because it was it’s choice? That’s downright evil in his book. Sometimes you need to make the decision for others and step in when they’re about to make the wrong ones. And if that’s what he has to do to for you then goddamnit he will. 
“Well, I think I best get going,” Elvis would say after contemplating this man's words. He knew how impressionable you can be, so he needs to act fast to undo whatever poison this asshole put in your head.
“O-oh of course,” he stutters. “Umm.. thank you for stopping by today.” 
“Now Mark, that fancy title you got, tells me you’re a smart man, right?” Elvis says a hand on his shoulder as he makes his way to the door. 
“...yes?” he answers tentatively.
“Now this story, I think it best you keep it to yourself.” he says, and he watches the man's brow furrowed in confusion. “Afterall I don’t think you wanna be known in your field for blabbin’ anything to anyone who just walks in your door.” 
“Of course not,” he says uneasily. “Thank you for your concern for Y/N, Elvis. Hopefully she’ll be back to normal soon.”
“Course,” Elvis would reply, holding out his hand for the professor, which Mark takes. “And please, call me Mr. Presley,” and on that confusing note he turns around and heads back to the car. 
He stews on that asshole’s words the whole way home, no one daring to talk about it until he did. He wants to trust 
But he knows if he lets this stand and doesn’t interfere, you’re going to make the wrong choice. Ultimately he decides to make the choice for you for your own good. He’s let chance rule his life for far too long, so he’s gotta make his own luck.
He cycles through just about everything he knows about you and tries to figure out how it could possibly help him.
And then he remembers how you once told him how your worst fear is seeing your patients fall back to their old ways, especially with those who abused them. 
Just the thought of going back to Parker makes him sick to his stomach. For as much as he loves you, he’s not willing to do anything that will bring that bastard back into the fold, and he doubts you would want that either. But he almost resolves himself to do it until he’s pulling into the driveway and sees Charlie’s car. 
And then he’s reminded that Charlie always did do a pretty spot on Parker impression. Especially if you ain’t ever heard that old toad talk before. And finally an awful plan began to form in his head.
It’s sneaky and underhanded, and it literally leaves a bad taste in his mouth that could only be chased away by that Wine. That sweet taste on his tongue reminds him of that first night in your office. He remembers how you cried so sweetly for him. How you pushed him away so overwhelmed with what you felt for him. How excited you got when he called you by your name. How you called him daddy for the first time. 
What he remembers most of all is how he had to apply some pressure to you in order to break through that tough professional wall you’ve set between the two of you. But it was worth that sweet sweet outcome. 
And if he gets the answer he wants from you, it would be worth it yet again. 
You wanted him to take charge then, and you want him to take charge now. 
So this is something he has to do and this is his cross to bear.
Ideally you never had to know. 
Once the call was over Charlie could hardly look him in the eye, and practically scrambles to get the hell out of there once given the signal. He feels a twinge of guilt and hopes that this be the last morally bad thing he asks of the man. But with the way you’ve been able to keep him on the straight and narrow since you’ve met him, he thinks it will be. 
Still he welcomes the solitude, knowing that this is undoubtedly going to be the worst minutes of his life, and the only one he could even fathom spending them with is the one he’s currently waiting on. He knows you well enough that you wouldn’t be one to sit on this for too long, so tonight he’s going to learn one of two things about you: either you tell him about “Parker” and try to help save him from the rat bastard… or you say yes to “Parker” and you prove yourself to be like the rest.  
He tries to chase that nasty feeling out of his head with the wine, and the sweet taste of it reminds him of that first night with you. How for all of your fighting and protesting you still gave in, how you kept coming back even as he knowingly put you through the wringer. How you would settle just as easily in his arms as he did in yours. 
If that ain't love, then I guess I don’t know what the hell is, he remembers thinking. You’re the last hope he has to believe that he can be loved for him, not for Elvis Presley. To love him through his fears, his hopes, his anxiousness, his temper, his jealousy, his dreams, all of it. 
And his faith in you is rewarded as you as his phone rings within minutes.
Where most people would blow up in a rage and scream and curse till their hoarse about something like this, you’re not like most people. No you’re far too composed to ever do that. Growing up in a house where your wants and feelings were second to everything will do that to you he guesses. 
You’re like that with everyone… except for him. You freely express all your thoughts and opinions with him, never afraid to give him the business when necessary but always honest in a way few people in his life are these days. 
You’re at your most vulnerable with him. You’re so used to hiding how you feel for others' benefits, and he’s glad you don’t have to do that with him. It was a long hard road to get to this point but goddamn if it wasn't worth every moment.  
He’s almost… giddy knowing that you’re going to be mad and he’s gonna be the only witness to it.
But for all your anger and fury, righteous or not. Ain’t none of it will change the fact that at the end of the day you still chose him. 
And even as you wordlessly turn and walk almost robotically up the stairs he’s confident that you’re going to choose him again. 
He barely has time to get the words out before the rest of them are in a frenzy to get out of the house, apparently unwilling to stick around for the fireworks. He doesn’t know what they're so squeamish about, he knows for a fact that they would’ve done worse if he asked them to. 
He trots up the stairs, maybe going a little slower, wanting to really rile you up. When he gets to your shared bedroom, you’re packing up a storm. 
It’s honestly cute that you think you’re going anywhere. 
A part of him knows he should feel more guilty about it. He does feel some guilt of course he’s not a monster, but it does feel roughly the same amount of guilt if he had broken a vase or something. It felt bad in the moment, and he tried his damndest to hide it, but ultimately it didn’t mean much. 
Sure you had been upset those first few weeks after the story dropped but eventually you did get over it and finally learned to enjoy your newfound life as his girl. Yes it cost you your job, but in the grand scheme of things it didn’t matter much. 
And if he’s being honest it only really mattered in getting you to meet him.
Most people would be either on their knees begging for forgiveness from you or continuing to feign ignorance to all of it.
But he’s not most people. He knows what he did and he knows he ain’t got nothing to be sorry over. 
“Can you believe them Hollywood producers ain’t never wanted me in no serious movies?” he says casually, now that there are no more secrets between either of you. 
You throw a bottle of wine at him. 
-------------------------
Ending Note: As Battie as my witness I’ve had this twist planned since the beginning. It’s up to you if I did enough to justify this choice but I am happy with the results. 
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ethanmorales · 10 months
Text
Train Wreck [Ethan Morales Short Fanfic]
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Part 1 - Complicated
Pairing: Ethan Morales x fem reader 1.4k words Warning: swearing Requested: Based on Ariana Grande's song "Boyfriend." / Friends to lovers.
I watched him as he kissed her. The curly red-haired beauty from Biology. She’s hung out with our group a handful of times, mostly because she wanted to be around Ethan, so of course he was already all over her. He never wasted any time. The twist in my stomach, though invisible, felt vividly painful. I watched him as he kissed her enthusiastically.
“Close your eyes, Ethan, it’s creepy like this,” the girl whined at him. He smiled, unfazed.
“Take it or leave it, sweetheart. I’m not going to do something just ‘cause you ask me to.” This part made me smile slightly as I looked away at the scene. Still, from my spot a few feet away, I could still overhear.
“Ugh, you’re always so mean. You’re lucky you’re hot.”
“As long as you know.” Then silence. Probably kissing again.
I give them two minutes before I turn to interrupt, instead, I see Ethan already walking up to me.
“Ready to go?” he asks once he reaches me, a warm smile to greet me.
I huff and nod silently, turning left to get to the parking lot.
“No huffing or puffing allowed in my car, Miss Wolf. Not if you want a ride home.” I caught the teasing in his tone as he followed me, but it only annoyed me more. I stood in front of his car, waiting for him to unlock it. But he doesn’t. Instead, he walks up and stands in front of me. He studies me carefully.
“Why are you upset?” he finally asks. The look on his face shows genuine concern. I ignore the pang of guilt in my chest.
 “I’m not upset. Can we please leave? I wanna go home.”
Ethan stays in place, still watching me.
“Y/N, c’mon. Don’t be like that. “He gives me full sad puppy dog eyes. It’s almost like he knows I’m a sucker for those gorgeous brown eyes.  At this, I swallow the bitter taste in my mouth and force myself to smile.
He frowns. “I’ve known you since we were three, Y/N. That bullshit smile is not going to convince me.”
At this I laugh a bit. “Don’t be so dramatic. I’m fine.” This time it comes out more naturally. He’s not fully convinced, if the way he keeps staring at me is any indicator. But he finally unlocks his car and I jump in without hesitation. He closes the door before I can. I let out a long breath as I watched him go around the car to get in the passenger seat.
Once inside, he hands me his phone.
“Take it away, DJ.”
I smile at him briefly before I look down to put in his pin to unlock it and open Spotify. I wait until we’ve pulled out of the parking lot to play the first song.
Bad idea by Ariana Grande comes on and Ethan gives me a pointed look. “Is this supposed to be some kind of punishment?” he quirks an eyebrow. I open my mouth to respond but I’m interrupted when he proceeds to belt out in song, obnoxiously loud, “I've been outta sight… I've been worried 'bout you lately...”
I burst out in laughter, and he smiles without looking at me, proud to have gotten the reaction he wanted. We’re both singing at the top of our lungs by the time the chorus comes around. Once the song ends, I look for another song to jam to. As I’m scrolling through a playlist, a text message pops on the top of the screen. From “Red Head.” I scoff.
“What?” Ethan asks, glancing over at me and then back at the road.
“Red head? That’s low even for you.”
Ethan stays quiet for a moment and then gives me an embarrassed look. This confuses me.
“What does that face mean?” I ask.
Ethan drags it out, surely not wanting to share whatever information he’s about to divulge.
“To be honest… I kind of forgot her name. I’ve been hoping someone will call her when I’m with her, but it still hasn’t happened so… I feel like it’s too late to ask her too…” he trails off, not making eye contact again.
“Dude... That’s awful.” I say, genuinely astonished. Ethan being how he is and doing a million things with all kinds of girls is one thing, but not even knowing her name, that was a whole other level of not giving a fuck. I shake my head in disbelief.
“Maia.” Is all I say.
Ethan finally looks at me.
“Thanks.”
It gets quiet after that. Desperate to drown out the awkward silence, I started looking for another song. Another text comes through. This time I opened it.
3:02pm    u coming to the party tonight?
3:04pm    can’t wait to get some alone time
“What is it?” Ethan asks. I vaguely feel him watching me as we come to a full stop at a red light. I feel tears burning in my eyes, though I’m not sure why. It’s not like I don’t know they’re hooking up. So why does reading something so stupidly simple make my heart ache this much?
I hand over his phone.
“Play whatever you want.”
Ethan watches me, but I refuse to make eye contact. There is no way I can look at him and not start crying. So instead, I look out of the window.
“Y/N?”
I say nothing. He quickly takes the hint and just drives faster once the light turns green.
He pulls up in his driveway. He had barely turned off the ignition when I basically jumped out of the car, stomping over to my house, across the street from his. I hear a door slam and then running footsteps behind me before I feel his arms wrap around me from behind.
“Hey, hey. Wait up.” He holds me tightly against him, his mouth next to my ear. I ignore the quick beating of my heart… and his, which I can feel against my back from how close he is.
“What’s going on with you today? Hm?” his voice is barely above a whisper, the tone gentle. The ache in my heart intensified. How could I ever tell him? He said it earlier. We’ve known each other our whole lives. We’ve been best friends for as long as either of us could probably remember.  We used to take baths together for God’s sake; both our mothers have pictures to prove it. So how could I tell him that I now saw him in a different light? That every time he hugged me, I wanted him to never let me go. When he walks up to me, I wish he would greet me with a kiss. That when he looks at me, with all the warmth in the world, like he does, that I hope he was just thinking about me in the same way.  But I could not tell him, because he was my best friend, and I knew him too well to think he could feel the same. For me or anyone else for that matter.
I pulled away from him.
“How about you save that for your girlfriend.”  
Ethan frowns at this. “She’s not my girlfriend.”
That’s all he says. I roll my eyes.
“Of course not. That would require some kind of commitment, some kind of actual feelings, which you are incapable of.” I mutter.
Ethan’s expression changes, a half-smile adorning his lips. “Sounds a lot like you’re jealous.”  
“Pfft”.
He chuckles.
“If you want me, all you have to do is ask.”
I scoff. “In your dreams, jerk.” I turn around to leave, unable to stand the smirk on his beautiful face.
His hands on my waist stop me again. I start pulling from him when his lips touch my cheek in a soft kiss.
“See you tonight.”
I turn to face him and fold my arms over my chest. “I’m not going to the party”.
“Why not?”
I give him a look, “Not interested in watching you hooking up with girls whose names you can’t remember. I would rather stay home and read, thank you very much”.
Ethan laughs, pushing a curl out of his face as he did so.
“Sounds like more jealousy.”
“I’m not jealous.” I argue.
He grins, “Cool. Then I’ll pick you up at 8:00.”
To be continued…
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A/N: Hope this didn't suck too much. I am brain dead after the day I've had. I will write the second part and as soon as I can. Thanks for reading!
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burningablaze · 1 year
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Hawks x Fem!Reader - All Giggles and No Work
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A/N: @sparklycupcake56 requested this and I’m very pleased about how this turned out
Summary: It’s no secret that Hawks has been working too hard but then when he’s with Y/N, everything seems so peaceful, especially her laughter
Ler: Hawks
Lee: Reader
Words: 1,106
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Hawks opened the door, stepped inside his home, and closed the door behind him. He sighed tiredly as he leaned his back against the door. He took his boots and his jacket off and placed them by the door.
“Baby?” He called out. “You here?” “In the bedroom!” Y/N said. Hawks walked to the bedroom and opened the door to see Y/N lying on the bed with a book in her hands.
“Hey, you.” Hawks greeted and laid down on the bed on his stomach. “Hey. Your home early.” Y/N pointed out. Hawks groaned. “Yeah, I’ve been working too hard, so the commission told me to just go home and rest. I’ve been doing a lot of stuff lately, and they finally recognized it.”
“That’s great, hon,” Y/N said with her eyes glued to her book, but her tone made Hawks worried. “Are you okay?” He asked. “Of course I’m okay.” She said, flipping a page. ‘Oh crap, what did I do wrong now?’ Hawks asked himself in his thoughts.
“Look, sweetie; I’m going to be home for a while so that we can spend more time together. I know I’ve been gone for a little,”
“By a little, you mean all the time.”
“Yes, I understand I’ve been away all the time, but you know I didn’t mean to do that. I’m not the type of person that will keep the other one in the dark. I just… I’ve been working a lot, getting cases closed, catching criminals, and everything else. I know that isn’t some petty excuse, and I’m sorry, and I,”
Y/N closed her book and placed her hand on his wild hair, scratching through his scalp. She gave him a genuine smile. “Hawks, relax. I know that you’re a hero, and I don’t care about that. As long as we spend time together, that’s all that matters. You don’t have to get so riled up.” 
“So you're not mad?” Hawks asked. Y/N scoffed. “Of course not, dummy. You know, I’m glad the commission allowed you to take some time off. You really need it.”
Hawks sighed loudly. “No kidding. Don’t get me wrong; I like being a hero and all, but all I wanna do is cuddle up with my special love bird.”
His comment made her blush and flustered. “Aww! Hawks!” She covered her face with her hands to hide. Hawks smiled and slowly started to crawl on top of Y/N.
“What’s wrong? Are you getting flustered? Why are you hiding from me? And are you giggling?”
“Noohohoho! You're just being a bully!”
“A bully, huh?” Hawks questioned. Suddenly, he had an awful idea. A couple of his feathers flew from his wings and towards Y/N’s shirt to push it up to expose her belly. He grasped onto her wrists and pinned them out to the side.
“You know, I haven’t heard your laugh in a long time because I’ve been working sooo hard; I want to hear your laughter as a reward. Now be a good girl for me and hold still; I wanna eat this cute tummy up that’s been neglected for quite some time. Poor thing.”
Y/N had never felt this much flustered by this much teasing in such a long time. The feeling of being this kind of being disconnected from him had a toll on her. To feel this much joy again was honestly a gift. She enjoys this as much as Hawks does.
Hawks laid on top of Y/N just enough for his face to be near her belly and kissed there for starters. He smiled as Y/N hopelessly squirmed and laughed underneath him.
"Oh, you like that, don’t you?" He chuckled, his warm breath tickling her skin and making her giggle in response. “Ehehehehehehehehe! Hahahahahawks! Your stubble tihihihickles!” Y/N arched her back and wiggled side to side.
Hawks raised his eyebrow. “It does, huh? Does my stubble tickle you? What would happen if I scratched your tummy with it, hmm?” He moved his head from side to side, making sure his stubble REALLY tickled her.
“Nohohohohohoho! Not like thahahahahahahahat! Ahahahahahahahahaha your so mehehehean!”
“Mean? No, chickadee. THIS would be mean!” Suddenly, he dove his hands on top of Y/N’s thighs and started squeezing rapidly. She shrieked with booming laughter as Hawks tickled her worst spot ever. Y/N tried to push him away, but it only made him tickle harder.
“NOOHOHOHO! AAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA PLEASE NOT THEHEHEHEHERE!” “What’s wrong, baby? Too much for you? God, I miss tickling the snot out of you, but I definitely miss that laugh most of all.”
To put the icing on the cake, Hawks bend down to put his face in her belly to start kissing it again. “HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA DON’T YOHOHOHOU DAHAHAHAHARE!”
Hawks smirked in her tummy. He didn’t lift his face to look at her for a second, but he talked instead. “In what way are you talking about?” He asked, then blew a tiny raspberry. “That?”
“YEHEHEHES YOU JEHEHEHERK!” “Oh, that’s it! PBBFFFFFTT!” “SHIHIHIHIT NOHOHOHOHOHO! LEHEHEHEHEAVE ME ALOHOHOHONE!”
Hawks gave Y/N no mercy to her poor belly and thighs. To be honest, his hands were getting tired from squeezing too fast, but he has a job at hand, making Y/N say sorry.
“Say you're sorry.” “NOHOHOHOHO!” “Say it, and this will stop.” “GOHOHO TO HEHEHELL, BIHIHIRDBRAHAHAIN!” “Don’t say I didn’t gave you a warning. PFFFFFT! PBBBFFFFFFFT!”
“AAAAAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA OKAY OKAYEHEHEHEHE! I’M SORRY I’M SAHAHAHAHAHAHAHARRY! PLEASE STOHOHOHOP!”
Finally, Hawks stopped tickling her thighs and lifted his head back with an amused smirk. She was laughing so hard to the point that tears streamed down her face, and she could barely catch her breath. She was exhausted but still smiling. “That was mean!” Y/N said, still trying to catch her breath.
“I know, and your cute this way.” Hawks brushed some of Y/N’s messy hair out of her face and tucked it behind her ear. He leaned in closer and kissed her lips softly. Y/N smiled against his lips and kissed him back with more intensity. She tangled her hands in the back of his hair and deepened the kiss. The kiss felt like a drug, something that she was addicted to.
Hawks pulled away, his lips still hovering over hers. He smiled, resting his forehead against hers. “I love you, Y/N.” He whispered, his voice full of emotion.
Y/N smiled, her heart feeling so full. “I love you too.” She said, feeling a warmth radiating through her body.
Hawks leaned in and kissed her again, this time slower and more passionately. They stayed like that for what felt like hours, just enjoying the feeling of being in each other’s arms.
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