#that part always made me uncomfy with the show

[starsweepers]

btw adding movie mari doesn't mean i think the movie fixed everything or was flawless. i still have things about it that i'm eh on. but compared to the show, it was so much better and felt like a mari i could enjoy playing again.

[buckys-wintersoldier]

Light after Dark | Bucky Barnes

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 -> Boyfriend!Bucky Barnes x Girlfriend!Reader

𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘 -> You ex-boyfriend never treated you well but when Bucky steps into your life it changes and he shows you how much he loves you. Would the behaviour you had with your ex-boyfriend be there because Bucky looks distanced.

𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓 -> 10.057 (it’s long but worth it, guess so)

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 -> (E) 18+, Minors DNI, angst, abusing ex-boyfriend, violence, slapping, shouting, wound/scars because of abuse, smut, non/dub-con, manipulation, blowjob, deep throating, nipple play, handjob (male!receiving), cum eating, fingering (fem!receiving), oral (fem!receiving), protected p in v, multiple orgasm, belly bulge, praises, fluff

𝐑𝐄𝐐𝐔𝐄𝐒𝐓 -> Hello hello! It's me, again. Got bit of an angsty idea. Let's say that reader has an abusive ex, and this dude was physically and emotionally draining. She never had a single nice thought about herself in three years. She always thought she had big thighs, or wide hips etc etc. And let's say that she does have some scars from her ex, whenever he used to beer bottles at her they'd crash and cut her. She always thought she was not worthy, because he used to cheat on her all the time. Now, presently, we're with Bucky. And nowadays Bucky has been a little irritated and distant. And you think the worse, and your defense mechanism come up. Back with your ex, you used to cook good food and make so much effort (but your asshole ex never bothered) Bucky is confused why there's whole royal course of a meal on the table when he comes home. You don't want to point out the obvious and say it's for nothing, but it's really because you don't want him to leave. Bucky knows something is up, but how does he approach the situation???🤭🤭🤭This was pretty long lol (Again you don't have to write this if you’re uncomfy😌😌) Okie BYE!! @amathslutsguidetofandom

𝐀/𝐍 -> Thank you so much for the request. I absolutely love it and I hope you like what I made with that. Also wanna thank my best friend @imtryingbuck for listening to me, and helping me with some parts during writing.

𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐒 -> Multifandom-Flash Bingo | 1008 | 1.1 | Cut his heart out with a spoon | @multifandom-flash | Fandom-Free Bingo: Valentines Edition | Row One-Two | Tracing Scars | @fandom-free-bingo

𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 | 𝐁𝐔𝐂𝐊𝐘 𝐁𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐄𝐒 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

“Come one, can’t you get your shit together? It’s not that hard,” he shouted at you, throwing his hands up while he looked at you.

His expression was disgusted, and he was disappointed — because of you, like he always was. You just asked him to help you with the plates, but he was annoyed, mad that you couldn’t do it without annoying him. You didn’t want to annoy him; it was never your intention, but you’re tired — working hard in the household every day, sleeping only half of the night — and he never appreciates what you did. He wanted to have a meal — a proper meal — but you presented him with something he didn’t want to eat that day. How could you dare to cook soup when he wants meat?

“Take your plate and sit on the floor,” he told you, pointing next to him on the ground.

“P—please. I’m sorry,” you whimpered.

He rolled his eyes, and not even now have you done what he told you. Alex placed his hand on your shoulder, pushing you down until you were sitting next to him on the floor. He used his hand under your chin to tilt your head up, forcing you to lock in with him. Alex let go of your chin, smirking at you before his hand met your cheek painfully. You hissed, tears building in your eyes, but you swallowed harshly and looked down on your plate, which was lying in front of you.

“Shut your mouth. I don’t wanna hear a fucking word."

Your body started to tremble, but you stayed quiet. Alex laughed, turning to the plate in front of him and sliding the spoon through it a few times. He hadn’t tried the soup you cooked; he stared at the plate. That’s nothing a person like him would eat; Alex deserved better than soup. He deserved to be treated well. He turned his face, seeing you sitting in the same position since he smacked your face. You weren’t saying a word; your hands were shaking, and you tried to hide your tears. He took the plate in one of his hands, holding it above you. With a sadistic expression, he let the soup fall down on you.

“Oh— sorry. I forgot you’re not the trash,” he said.

You whimpered, feeling the hot liquid covering your body and burning your skin. Alex watched you and the way the soup soaked your clothes. He then stood up and pushed you to the side; you were curled up in yourself, crying silently while he just kicked you. Alex walked out of the kitchen, leaving you a whimpering and crying mess lying on the ground. Alex just left the house when you started crying more.

Almost half of the night you were lying on the ground, your body trembling, and you cried until there was no tear left anymore. You loved that man; you feel in love with him because he was caring; he made you feel good and appreciated you. But you feel like you were the reason for him being the way he is now. Maybe you were too fat, maybe your food wasn’t good, maybe you didn’t do things like you should do then? You often thought about it already — sleepless nights while Alex was sleeping next to you, smelling like a bottle of alcohol itself while he wrapped his arm around your waist.

Somewhere in the night, you heard the keys in the door. Your body tensed immediately while you pretend to be sleeping on the couch. Alex knew you weren't, and even when he would wake you up, he was drunk and frustrated.

“Babe, come here now. You little bitch,” he shouted through the house, and you sat up. “I won’t repeat myself, slut.”

You slowly walked toward him, holding your arms tightly around your body to cover yourself a bit. He grinned when he saw you walking closer to him; you look so small, while he felt so good looking at your scared form in front of him. Alex was holding a bottle of beer in his hand, and he took a sip, groaning when he noticed that the bottle was empty.

“Alex, y—you should go to bed,” you mumbled, and he raised his eyebrow.

You dared to say something, telling him what he had to do. He didn’t think twice when he lifted the bottle and smashed it against your head. The glass broke and left a bloody wound on your head. You whimpered and tried to hide the tears from rolling down your cheeks, but he saw it, and it made him chuckle even more. Now you knew that you shouldn’t tell him what to do, or else Alex would show you that you were his own little toy to treat and fuck you however he wanted.

“Get on your knees.”

“P—please. C—can I just clean the wound?”

“Get on your knees, or I will give you more than just this one to clean. Fucking little bitch,” he hissed, grabbing your chin harshly.

You whined, trying to turn your face away, but he was too strong for you. So you needed to look directly into his eyes while he leaned closer, and you smelled his breath — which smelled like nothing but alcohol. You pushed the urge to look disgusted away, but when he leaned even closer and captured your lips with his, you tried to pull away from him. His tongue slid over your lips, and when you weren’t parting your lips, he just smacked your cheek to make you hiss in pain. Then you opened your mouth, and he was able to guide his tongue into it. You felt disgusted, but you loved him, and when it was what he wanted, you wouldn’t deny it; otherwise, he would still do it. He has control over your relationship, as he showed you. Alex pulled away from you, leaving you panting while he smirked and pushed you down on your knees.

“Suck my fucking dick. Other girls would beg me to suck it, so why are you complaining about my dick, huh? Thinking you’re pretty? You’re not; have you seen your ugly, fat thighs? I would be ashamed to show them someone,” he said, and you nodded.

You didn’t stop the tears from rolling down your cheeks; you felt so ashamed and embarrassed for looking the way you do. With shaking hands, you gasped his belt and unbuckled it. Opening his pants before you shoved them down his legs. You saw the outline of his dick in his pants, but he wasn’t hard. When you looked at his dick a moment too long for his liking, he cleared his throat, grasped your hair, and pushed you closer.

“Do you really think I will be turned on when I see you? You’re just a little ugly slut,” he said, laughing about the tears in your eyes.

You knew you weren't the most beautiful person, but even when you heard that for three years now, it was still hurtful. Alex always told you that he could have everyone, that everyone wanted to be with him, but he was together with you, even when it’s just because you couldn’t be without him — that’s what he was always saying.

You pushed his boxers down as well, revealing his soft cock. Alex took his shaft in his hand, stroking himself a few times before he pulled you closer and tapped his dick against your lips. You opened your mouth slightly, and when he managed to push into you, he immediately rammed his dick down your throat. He never paid attention to how you felt when you had sex; he didn’t care. You gagged around his length, trying to get used to it, but he had already started to thrust into you. His cock always slid down your throat, and his balls slapped against your chin. His hand in your hair guided you over his cock, and he slapped your cheeks a few times, causing more tears in your eyes.

“You’re such a fucking little slut, aren’t you? That’s the only thing you can do. Sucking my cock."

Your nails were digging into your tights, trying to ground you while he held you on his cock. He was deep in your mouth and throat, and you tried not to panic, but when he didn’t let you pull back, you wiggled softly, trying to move away from his length. But he didn’t let you move away; he was holding you with his cock in your mouth in place. When he was finally letting go of you, you pulled away and breathed deeply, crying quietly, while he grabbed your chin once again. His eyes darkened as he looked into yours. And you knew you shouldn’t have tried to pull away from him.

“Do you wanna kidding me? Making a scene like that?” He asked, looking disappointed at you.

He didn’t wait for an answer before he pushed his dick back inside your mouth. His hips thrusted forward, he groaned, and you felt his dick twitch in your mouth just before he came in your mouth. His cum was sliding down your throat, and he pulled away, smacking your face again before he pointed toward the couch.

“A—Alex.”

“Can’t you just keep your mouth shut? You annoy me. You’re my girlfriend, and your boyfriend wants to fuck you now.”

When you woke up next to your boyfriend, your pussy was aching. He fucked you rough, never minding if it would hurt you or if you enjoyed this sex too. You were slowly getting up, and you felt disgusted with the mixture of sweat and cum on your body. So you walked to the bathroom, trying to be as quiet as possible to not wake him. You really needed a hot shower, so you did exactly that. A hot, relaxing shower was perfect for your arching pussy and your tensed muscles, but when you heard Alex shouting that the breakfast wasn’t ready, you panicked again. You should have done the breakfast first and then thought about a shower. He swung the door of your shared bathroom open, narrowing his eyebrows.

“Do you think you could take a shower before making breakfast for me?” He asked, and you shook your head.

“I’m sorry—“

He walked closer, towering over you and pulling the towel away, leaving you naked in front of him. Alex looked your body up and down, slapping your breast and causing you to gasp.

“Have you looked into the mirror? Look how ugly you are, and your pussy, only great because she is still tight,” he said, turning around to took a shower as well.

You wrapped your arms around your body, trying to cover it. He is right; you’re ugly, and you can’t even look at yourself in the mirror. Your body is covered with scars — scars he caused with beer bottles or when he just hit you hard enough. You bent down to lift your towel, wrapping it around you, and got out of the bathroom to change into leggings and a t-shirt. Then you made your way to the kitchen, preparing some breakfast for the two of you.

It didn’t take long until Alex walked into the kitchen. He smirked at you when you looked so small compared to him since you tried to make yourself small around him. And especially because he can see the respect or more fear you have in your eyes when you look at him. You placed the plates on the table, both of you taking a seat, and you ate in silence; you didn’t want to annoy him. When he was finished, he looked at you, shoving his plate closer to you.

"You already made better food. I want you to clean until I come home from the meeting,” he told you.

“Oke,” you said, taking the plates to put them in the other dishes to clean them later.

Alex went to work, and you needed to clean. You weren’t really motivated to do so, but you didn’t want him to be angry at you again. So you started in the kitchen and then went to the living room. When you were almost finished, you heard Alex coming back home, and your muscles were immediately tensed.

“Lunch?”

“I cleaned and haven’t-“

“I don’t mind. You have to bring lunch to the table, and you didn’t once again,” he said.

“Thought I told you that when you’re not doing what I said, I will break up. You want that? No? But you did it, no. Lazy ass didn’t do what she was told.”

You whimpered, but he shook his head, pointing to the door of the apartment. And grasped your arm to pull you closer to the door. It was raining outside, and you knew he didn’t mind; he would let you wait outside until he allowed you to come back into the apartment. Alex went back inside and left you in front of the door. Your clothes were immediately soaked because of the rain, and you felt the cold all over your body. You were freezing, but he wouldn't let you into the apartment until he wasn't mad anymore. So you sat on the ground, your back against the wall, and your legs were pulled against you while you wrapped your arms around them. You cried quietly, trying to warm yourself up a bit while the cold rain was wetting your whole body.

"Hi, are you oke? Aren't you freezing?" A soft voice asked, and you looked at the man in front of you.

He was kneeling, offering you his hand, but you just smiled at him. He saw that it wasn't a real one, but he didn't want to pressure you. His brown hair was as wet as you were, but he didn't mind. He also didn't mind taking off his jacket and placing it over your shoulders.

"Thank you," you mumbled.

"I'm Bucky, and you?" He asked softly, his hand resting on your knees.

The warmth of his body warmed you a bit as well, and his steel blue eyes and the smile on his lips warmed your heart. You admired his blue eyes; he looked soft and beautiful.

"I'm Y/N"

"And what is a pretty girl like you doing outside in the rain?"

You blushed and turned your face away. Bucky smirked, looking at you, while he tried to find out why you were sitting there with a bruise on your pretty face. He hadn't seen that one before, but when he did, he reached out to slide his fingers over your face to turn it toward him. You hissed, trying to escape his fingers even when his touch was way softer than Alex's. Bucky removed his hand and waited until you were ready to face him again.

"I'm sorry; I didn't know I would scare you. I don't want to hurt you, but where are the bruises from?" He asked, and you shook your head.

"Nothing, really. I just- I just walked against the counter yesterday. I was stupid and ignored the open door of the counter. And I'm sitting here because I forgot my keys," you tell him.

Bucky nodded. He didn't really believe you, but he didn't want to push you either. When he noticed someone opening the door behind you, he got up to face the person behind you.

"You little slut, didn't I tell you to get pizza?" Alex asked, ignoring Bucky, who furrowed his eyebrows.

"Alex, you didn't say that you wanted pizza," you said quietly, looking at your hands.

"Don't dare to talk back, or you can spend the rest of the night here as well," he shouted at you, and you flinched.

Bucky's jaw was clenching when he saw the way Alex treated you, and when you got up from where you were sitting, Bucky reached out to grab your shoulder and pushed you behind him. Alex was laughing about it; his eyes were piercing into Bucky's.

"Do you think someone like him would treat you better? You're nothing but slut, a dumb little bitch," he said to you even when he was looking at Bucky.

You whimpered softly, but before you were able to say something, you saw Bucky's arm flying forward, and a moment later, your boyfriend was walking backwards, his hand covering his nose while he hissed in pain. Bucky just broke his nose with one punch, and you saw the blood slowly running down his chin, and Alex's hand was covered in it as well. You weren't sure if you felt scared or thankful that Bucky protected you for your boyfriend.

"Fucking slut. I'm gonna break up with you; fuck your new lover; he won't love you the way I loved you," he said, shutting the door and leaving you with Bucky in front of it.

Bucky turned around, seeing you crying, and, with widening eyes, looking at him broke his heart. He didn't want to scare you more, but he was just too angry at Alex for treating you the way he did. Bucky smiled nicely, opening his arms for you to decide if you wanted him to hug you or not. You hesitated a moment, but his warmth and the way he protected you made you crave more. So you walked closer toward him and let him wrap his arms around your shoulders, pulling you as close as possible. You placed your hand on his chest, inhaling his sweet-mint scent, and closed your eyes for a moment.

For the first time in years, you felt saved and loved. Someone could really like you the way you are. Bucky didn't know you, but he gave you the warmth you never got from your ex-boyfriend. His touches were soft, and you enjoyed the warmth and softness of them.

"You will come home with me. You can sleep in my bed then; I prefer the floor in the living room," Bucky said.

You were freezing, and when Bucky already offered you his bed and maybe a warm shower, you would definitely say yes. So you nodded softly, and Bucky lifted you up, his hands resting under your thighs, and you wrapped your legs around his waist while you placed your hands around his neck. You looked at him with a smirk, and Bucky grinned just as much as you did. Only then did you realise his beautiful blue eyes, which light up when he smiles, like he did.

"Can I take a shower then as well? And Bucky, I think I'm too heavy for you to carry me home," you say quietly.

"You can also take a long, warm bath if you want to. And don't worry, you're not too heavy for me," he chuckled and gave you some butterflies in your stomach, causing you to giggle softly.

"I'm home, doll," Bucky shouts through the apartment you both live in now.

Bucky takes off his jacket and shoes and makes his way into the kitchen. He inhales the smell of the food deeply, smiling when he sees the plates filled with his favourite food on the table. He walks around the table, wrapping his arms around your waist, and pulls you flat against his broad chest. Bucky places his chin on your shoulder and looks at you while you're cooking.

When Bucky picked you up that day, you met him for the first time. He brought you to his home, and like he said, you were allowed to take a long, warm bath, and you slept in his bed. It was the first time in forever that you felt safe. Bucky made breakfast in the morning — a lot of breakfast because he wasn't sure what you liked to eat, so he made pancakes and French toast, and he offered you cereal. When you finished the dinner, he asked you to look over your wounds, and when you allowed him to do so, he picked you up to carry you into the bathroom and placed you on the edge of the bathtub. Bucky slowly moved his fingers over your thighs, and when you looked away because you were ashamed, he told you how beautiful you are.

Bucky took off your shirt, revealing a lot of scars and wounds all over your body. The hiss that left his lips made you flinch, but he assured you that he was just shocked that such a beautiful person like you has an ex-boyfriend like Alex. Bucky cleaned all your wounds; he didn't say that you were ugly. His words surprised you every time because he always admired your body, and he still does. The two of you came closer when Bucky offered you to stay with him, so you both would have someone, and you said yes, but your behaviour with your ex-boyfriend needed time to slowly fade away.

Bucky was really confused when you were always up before him when you made the meals and always studied his expression to see if it was good or not. With time, Bucky learned to tell you that the food is good, that he would like to cook with you together, and that he is going to help you with the dishes. Bucky took care to always tell you when he got home and to tell you what he would like to eat, or he told you to decide. When you were unsure, Bucky helped you decide, but he never pressured you. His only intention was to make you happy because he could never get enough of your beautiful smile.

Whenever you were looking into the mirror and a disgusted expression was on your face while a few tears fell down your cheeks — you wanted to be at least a bit handsome — Bucky smirked and was standing next to you, and he wiped your tears away with his thumbs. He took off his shirt and showed you the scars on his own body. The bunch of scars around his metal arm, but also the others. He showed you a side of himself that was also just a broken man, and you fell in love with that side just as much as you fell in love with the strong Bucky who would punch everyone to protect you.

When you suddenly got woken up by a scream and you were scared your ex-boyfriend was shouting at you, you needed a moment to remember that you were with Bucky. It confused you at first why you heard a scream, but when you heard another and then a noise that sounded like a punch, you got up to find Bucky sleeping on the floor in the living room. It wasn't new to you to see him lying there, but when you saw the tears rolling down his cheeks and the sweat on his forehead, you walked closer to place your hand on his shoulder. He woke up immediately and tried to wipe the tears away, but everything in his body told you that he had a really bad nightmare. You sat in his lap; your arms were around his neck, and you were sliding your fingers through his soft brown hair. Bucky had his face hidden in the crock of your neck. You being close to him is just as helpful for him as his being close to you to feel safe and comfortable.

You never judge him for having nightmares, for not being comfortable around too many people, or for struggling with his scars and mental health sometimes. And he gives you the same; he never dares to judge you. Bucky tries to show you how beautiful you are, that you're worth it, and that you are and can be more than you think. And he loves you the way you are, just like you love him the way he is.

Slowly, you get used to being good the way you are, and Bucky will never shout at you or hurt you. But for a while, he has looked irritated and distant. He comes home late, and even when he says it's nothing, you feel like you have done something that makes him mad or that he loves you less. So you try to be better, clean the apartment more often, cook what he loves, and try not to be too clingy around him.

"It smells beautiful," he says, kissing your neck softly.

You lean into his touch, smiling, while you finish the dinner. His hands are trailing up and down your sides, and you feel the goosebumps erupting all over your body. You love his soft, warm touches, his kiss all over your neck, and the way his breath hits your soft skin.

"There is something in the oven," you say, and Bucky takes a step back to walk to the oven. "You can just take a seat; dinner is almost done."

Bucky looks slightly confused. Usually, you wouldn't mind his help, but for a few days, you don't ask or let him help you with food and dishes anymore. You cook a lot of what he loves, and the meals are almost royalty meals. He doesn't mind eating your food because he loves what you do, but he wonders why you suddenly act like you did when he first met you. He walks around the table and takes his seat. He looks at you with a soft smile, but he still doesn't understand why you put so much effort into cleaning and cooking.

"How come you cook such royal meals?" He asks softly but sees you flinch.

You constantly feel like you have done something wrong; maybe that's not what Bucky likes? Maybe you shouldn't have cooked that? Bucky wants, probably, a pizza. You feel the tears building in your eyes, and when you turn around, you see Bucky's smile fading away. He looks with a worried expression at you while he gets up and walks closer to you. You shake your head, walking backwards and crashing into the kitchen counter behind you.

"Doll, can I please come closer? I can stand here when you feel comfortable, but please let me come closer," he says, and you hesitate a moment.

Bucky stands a few meters away from you, waiting for you to allow him to come closer. When you nod slightly, Bucky steps closer and wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you as close as possible against him. Your head rests against his broad chest, and your tears are soaking his t-shirt while he holds you tightly.

"B—Bucky I'm sorry. I didn't want to make the wrong food. I cleaned the house today; please don't be mad for not cleaning enough," you say quietly.

"Shhh. Doll, you didn't do anything wrong; why do you think that?"

"B—Because you look so distant. Don't you love me anymore? Am I too ugly or too fat? I—I can do a diet."

Bucky's eyes widen, and he slides his hands down to your thighs and picks you up. He shoves the pots away from the cooker. He then turns around and carries you to the bedroom of the two of you. Your arms are wrapped around his neck, and you try to wipe the tears away when he places you on the bed. Bucky stands in front of you and smirks softly, then he gets on his knees in front of you. His hands slide up and down your thighs until he reaches the hem of your shirt.

"I love you. I love you so much. And the missions with Sam were really exhausting, especially because John is always trying to tell us what we have to do. But I love you so much, and you are beautiful exactly the way you are. You're not fat or ugly; you're perfect the way you are," Bucky tells you. He then pushes you down and towers over you with a wide smile on his lips.

Bucky captures your lips with his soft and plumb ones, his hands sliding along your sides, and you sigh softly into the kiss. Bucky deepens the kiss, his tongue slipping through your barely parted lips, and he groans when you place your hands in his soft hair and tug at them softly.

You've never had sex with Bucky; he didn't pressure you since you were uncomfortable with it because of your ex-boyfriend. But right now, it feels perfect — the way Bucky has his lips on yours and his hands all over your body. You feel a heat in your lower stomach, which makes its way between your legs, and you can't help but moan about the feeling. When Bucky pulls slightly away, your eyes widen but are filled with lust, the pleasure written on in your expression, and Bucky smiles about it. He kisses down your jawline and to your neck, biting softly and licking over your soft skin.

"Bucky, please," you whimper.

He smirks, kissing your lips once again, before he plays with the hem of your shirt and pushes it up. You sit up, letting him remove the fabric from your body, and he groans about the way you look underneath him with lust in your eyes. Bucky kisses your collarbone, down to your breasts, and unclasps your bra so you can take it off as well. His big hands capture your breasts, palming them softly, and he earns soft moans from you. Bucky licks a strap down to one of your nipples; he kisses it softly before he takes it into his mouth, his tongue twirling around your nipple. You arch your back, pressing yourself more against your boyfriend, who chuckles.

"You're beautiful, doll," he mumbles, nibbling at the soft skin of your breast.

You blush and hide your face with your hands, giggling softly. Bucky looks at you, grasping your hands and pulling them away from your face. He leans closer to kiss your lips softly.

"Don't hide that pretty face of yours. You’re so beautiful; I wanna see you, please," Bucky says, pouting, and you smirk.

You lean closer and peck at his lips, just as softly as he did. Bucky moves his lips down your collarbone and to your other breast, kissing around your nipple before he takes it in his mouth as well. Suckling softly and scratching his teeth over the sensitive skin. You moan, tugging at his hair and pulling him even closer. Bucky slides his hands from your breasts down your stomach, kissing the way down and giving every inch of your soft skin attention.

“Do you want it? If not, we can wait until you’re ready to have sex with me,” Bucky says, his fingers playing with the waistband of your pants.

“I want it, please, Bucky. I need you,” you mumble, blushing once again.

“You’re cute when you blush,” he chuckles.

Bucky opens your pants, trailing his fingers along your skin while he pushes your pants down. He then kisses the way back to your belly and smirks when you wiggle in anticipation. He pushes himself up, removing his shirt as well as his pants, before he leans over you again. You can see his growing bulge in his boxers, and the outline of his cock is visible. A little wet spot forms where his tip is, and you reach out your hand to touch his cock.

“Wanna touch it, babydoll?” He asks, and you nod, your eyes focused on his covered cock.

Bucky grins, getting up the bed once again, and pushes his boxers down. His cock springs free and slaps against his stomach; the red tip is leaking with pre-cum, and you see the vein running along the underside of his shaft. Bucky gets on the bed next to you. You sit up, looking directly into his eyes, while he smiles at you. You slide your fingers over his abs and to the base of his cock. Bucky looks at your fingers, his hand wrapping around yours, and he brings both of your hands to his shaft.

“It’s oke, doll. I won’t do anything unless you want me to,” he says, leaning closer to kiss you before he wraps your hand around his shaft.

You smile when you feel the softness of his length. He is huge, but with Bucky, you feel safe, and you know he wouldn’t do anything when you say you don’t want him to do so. His hand lets go of yours.

For a moment, you just look at his cock in your hand and the way his pre-cum is leaking down his tip. It’s glistening softly, and you swipe your thumb over his slit, smearing the cum all over his tip. Bucky groans softly, smiling when you slowly move your hand up and down his shaft.

“Do you like that?”

“It feels wonderful, babydoll.”

You giggle, swiping your thumb a few more times about his tip until Bucky can’t hold back and thrusts forward into your hand. His eyes widen, and he looks at you, but there is no discomfort, so he relaxes and lets you continue to massage his dick.

“C—Can I touch your balls?” You ask, cheeks heating up.

Bucky nods, and you look at his balls before you use your other hand to bring it to his balls, taking them into your hand. They are soft, and you roll them in your palm, causing Bucky to groan.

“Babydoll, you’re doing so well for me. But when you continue, I won’t last long,” Bucky says.

You grin, moving your hand faster and wrapping it tighter around his shaft. Your other hand is massaging his balls, and when you swipe your thumb once again over his tip, Bucky grasps the sheets and thrusts his hips forward.

“Doll,” he says, looking deeply into your eyes.

The blue lights up when he smirks; they are slightly darkened because of the lust, but they show you nothing but love. When you stroke his cock a few more times, Bucky throws his head back and comes into your hand. He breathes heavily, and sweat is covering his forehead. His seeds are covering his tip and your hand, and for a moment he is worried that you could feel uncomfortable with it. But you just stroke him until he comes down from his high, and then you look at your hand, his cum slowly dropping from it, and you move it to your mouth, so you lick a bit of it away, moaning softly at its salty taste.

“It tastes good,” you smirk, tapping his cock again, and Bucky moans.

When Bucky catches his breath, he pushes you back down so you lay next to him. He spreads your thighs and slides his fingers up and down your thighs further until he reaches your panties. Your face is turned toward him, and he’s focused on your expression, making sure you’re oke. When you nod softly, Bucky guides his hand over your panties and caresses your fold through the fabric. You moan softly; he knows how to touch a woman to make her feel good; he immediately hits your clit and you buck your hips. He then slides his fingers further down, feeling your panties damp, and he smirks.

“Can I take your panties off?” He asks, and you nod, but place your hands on his cheek and press your lips on his.

Bucky moves his lips perfectly against yours; he’s deepening the kiss before he kisses your neck and collarbone before his focus is back on your panties. His fingers circle your clit through the fabric, and you moan quietly, arching your back. Bucky takes the waistband of your panties between his fingers and pulls them down, revealing your pussy. He rolls himself on top of you before he pushes you further down in the bed by your hips. He is then lying between your thighs and smirking at you.

“You’re so wet and so beautiful,” he says, placing a kiss on your pussy.

Bucky’s eyes are focused on your pussy, his fingers trialing through your folds, and he parts them slightly. Using his tongue to lick along them to your clit. Circling around your sensitive spot before he sucks at it softly, making you gasp. You have never felt so much pleasure during sex, and Bucky hasn’t really touched you yet. His fingers trail back down to your soaked entrance. He pushes his digit against it, smirking at the way you push yourself more against his finger.

“You’re cute when you’re desperate for more, doll,” he says, placing his lips once again on your clit.

One of your hands finds its way to his hair, tugging at it and pulling Bucky closer to your cunt. He chuckles against your pussy, causing vibration, and you whine. He slowly pushes one of his fingers into you while his other hand holds you down by your hips. You only then know that he used his metal hand to push inside of you. The sudden cold of his finger feels great compared to the heat in your pussy. Bucky thrusts his finger in and out of you, smirking about the way your pussy is clenching around his digit and sucking him inside. His mouth doesn’t let go of your clit while he does so, enjoying the sounds that are leaving your lips. They are like music, and he could listen to your soft moans all day.

“Bucky— please. It feels so good.”

“You’re tasting so sweet, doll. Can’t get enough of your pussy.”

You smirk, throwing your head back when he adds another finger and pushes them as much as he can into your tight hole. You’re soaking his fingers, and when he curls them, he finds your sweet spot. The moan that leaves your lips is erotic, and you look at him with shock in your eyes about that sound.

“Don’t worry, doll. Just found your sweet spot,” Bucky chuckles, licking down your folds to your entrance.

His tongue joins your fingers, and his lapping at your entrance swallows all your juice. His fingers curl inside of you, hitting always your sweet spot, and you feel the knot in your stomach growing. You haven’t felt a pleasure like that in years, but Bucky is so soft with you; he never says anything bad about you or your body. Bucky loves you; he loves your body; and he shows you that, every day, he makes sure you know how much you’re loved by him and that you’re the most beautiful woman for him.

“I feel soy squeezing my fingers; if you wanna come, then do it. Come all over my fingers, doll,” he says, placing his mouth back at your entrance.

His words, the way his tongue is working over your folds, and the way his fingers are always hitting your sweet spot make you come. Your cum is floating out of you, but Bucky doesn’t dare to miss a bit of it and takes it all. Eating you out like it’s the most delicious meal he's ever had. And he fucks you with his fingers and his tongue through your orgasm; your breath hitches whenever his tongue slides over your folds. Your pussy feels so sensitive, but Bucky is so soft. He earns more soft moans until he pulls his fingers out of you and kisses your clit once more before he places his chin on your lower stomach and smirks at you.

“How are you feeling, pretty girl?”

“Great, thank you. And you?”

Bucky chuckles, you’re always so nice. Even when it’s all about you, you always make sure that he is fine too. That both of you feel comfortable.

“I’m good too. Do you want to have my dick now?” He asks, grinning.

You nod, running your fingers through his soft hair. Bucky kisses your stomach, pushing his elf up until he kneels between your legs. His big hands are caressing your thighs. Bucky’s cock is hard again, and the tip is touching your pussy when he moves closer to you.

“Could you give me a condom? It’s in the drawer from the bedside table.”

You turn yourself a bit around, reaching for the drawer, and open it. You grab a condom and give it to Bucky, then you close the drawer and lay down more comfortably again. Bucky opens the package of the condom, taking it out and throwing the package away. Your boyfriend grasps the base of his cock and pulls the condom over his dick.

You’re spreading your legs further apart when Bucky settles himself between them, his cock still in his hand, and he taps the tip a few times against your clit. He smirks at you, sliding his dick through your folds, and covers his cock with your arousal. You moan softly when he reaches your entrance, pushing his tip softly against it. You whimper softly when Bucky slides his cock once more through your folds. He loves the way you look through your lashes at him; your lips are slightly parted, so desperate for his cock.

"Bucky, please," you say quietly, pushing your hips toward him.

Bucky lines himself up with your entrance and pushes slowly inside of you; his cock is huge, and he stretches you like no one has before. He gives you a moment to adjust to his size before he pushes further into you. Your back arches, but he doesn't hurt you; the pleasure is breathtaking, and you grasp the sheets. Bucky chuckles, pushing balls deep into you; he then leans closer and captures your lips with his. His cock is filling you perfectly, and you clench around him, causing him to groan into your mouth.

"You're so tight, warming my cock so perfectly," he groans.

"You're so deep," you moan when he pulls slightly out to push back into you.

You both chuckle, and Bucky takes one of your hands, brings it to your stomach, and places it on your lower abdomen. He then thrusts his cock into you, letting you feel him through your skin and causing you to moan even louder. Feeling his cock that way turns you on beyond belief. He moves his cock in a slow but steady rhythmus inside of you. Your walls are squeezing him, sucking him deeper into the warmth of your pussy.

Bucky's balls hit your ass whenever he pushes his dick balls deep into you. His dick is glistening with your arousal, and Bucky looks the whole time into your eyes.

You're beautiful when you lay underneath him like that. Your other hand makes its way to his back, and you try to ground yourself while Bucky holds your other hand, still pressed on your stomach. With every thrust you feel him against your hand, he cock is hitting all the right spots, and he smirks when he hits your sweet spot harder than before.

"That's what you like?" He asks.

"Scared that I will break when you're thrusting harder into me?"

He shakes his head, laughing while he speeds up his thrusts. Your mouth drops open when he causes a pleasure inside of you that you have never felt before. It grows in your stomach and makes its way down to your pussy. Your eyes widen while you breathe heavily, but you still push your hips more against Bucky to show him to fuck you harder. And he does; he pulls almost completely out of you to thrust back inside of you. His breath hitches, and he closes his eyes when you squeeze him harder.

"I won't last long when you squeeze me like that, doll," he says, pressing his lips to yours.

You smirk, clenching your walls on purpose to make him groan against your lips. His tongue slips into your mouth, and his thrusts become harder and faster while you're not far away from the edge anymore. The pleasure in your stomach is growing, and Bucky growls. When he hits your sweet spot a few more times, he feels your orgasm just as close as his own, speeding his thrusts up. Bucky doesn't want to come before you do — or at least when you do.

"B—Bucky, I'm so close."

"I know, me too. Come with me, doll," he mumbles softly.

He pushes his cock into you; you feel every inch of him inside of you; his lips are slightly parted like yours; and his breath hits your soft skin. The feeling of him feeling you completely inside of you causes you to come all over his cock. You moan his name and its music to his ears, hearing you moan his name while he is buried balls deep into your pussy. You're squirting all over his cock, and Bucky grins while he comes as well. He comes in the condom, still thrusting into you while you both calm down from your high. Bucky lets go of your hand, sliding it over your stomach and your sides, caressing your skin. He places kisses all over your neck while you catch your breath and run your fingers through his soft hair.

"Are you oke?" He asks, his blue eyes slightly worried that he could have been too rough.

"I'm— it was perfect."

His expression softens, and he pulls slowly out of you. You hiss about the sudden emptiness and grasp his muscular arms to pull him back. Bucky chuckles, placing his fingers at your pussy and strokes your folds softly. You're clenching around nothing, while Bucky admires the way your cum is dripping out of you.

He then sits up and helps you sit up as well. Bucky removes the condom and gets up from the bed, making his way to the bathroom to throw the condom away. You're looking at him, smirking. He is adorable, sweet, and caring. He never tells you that you're ugly because of your scars; he just kisses them when you struggle because of them and tells you how beautiful you are. And you're doing the same; whenever he has nightmares or suffers from his past or scars, you know exactly how to cheer him up. A lot of kisses and cuddles always help that soft, big man, and with the way his eyes are shining, his lips curl up to the softest and most adorable smile.

You rest your back against the headboard of the bed, waiting for Bucky. He throws the condom away and runs warm water into the bath; he buts your favourite bubble bath into it as well, before he makes his way back to you. He smirks, picking you up with no effort and getting back into the bathroom. Before you can say something, you're sitting in the bathtub, surrounded by a lot of bubbles and your favourite scent. You squirm softly when you feel the warm water on your sensitive pussy. Bucky gets into the bathtub behind you, wraps his arms around your waist, and pulls you as close as possible.

"I love you," he mumbles, taking some of the foam and putting it on your hair.

You giggle when it rolls down your hair and tickles your skin softly. Bucky rubs his hands softly over your stomach, drawing small circles on it while you lean back, resting your head against his broad chest. Bucky plays with the foam, placing them everywhere on your body, and chuckles then.

"You did so well for me, babydoll. Your pussy's feeling so good around my cock," Bucky says, kissing your neck softly. "Made for my cock."

You chuckle, sliding your hands over his legs. But he is right; it was perfect, and he was so soft that you weren't scared when he pushed in; you felt safe, and you knew he wouldn't do it when you didn't want it.

"My pretty doll, I'm so in love with you. How about I prepare some popcorn and pizza after the bath while you decide which movie we're going to watch?"

"Sounds like a good idea," you say, turning around to kiss him.

Bucky washes your hair, trying to avoid letting shampoo come into your eyes, and he manages to do so. When you turn your whole body around, you're washing his hair. When you put the shampoo in his soft brown hair, you give him some fresh hair styles. Laughing about the way he is pouting when you giggle about his hair. You kiss his pout away, causing him to pout again to get more kisses.

When the both of you are finished, you get out of the bathtub, and Bucky holds a towel to wrap around you, kissing your forehead softly when he walks to the bedroom and dresses himself, giving you panties and a t-shirt of his. You smirk, dress yourself, and comb your hair. Bucky makes his way to the kitchen, preparing the popcorn and the pizza. When you're finished in the bathroom, you walk into the living room, placing all the pillows and blankets on the couch and letting yourself fall into them. When Bucky came with the food and drinks into the living room, he burst out laughing. Only your arms and legs are visible from underneath the pillows. He places the food and drinks on the small table and lifts the pillow on top of you, smirking.

"Does the pillow eat you?" He asks, and you chuckle.

"No, I just like to cuddle."

You sit up, moving a bit to make some space for Bucky. He lets himself fall down next to you and wraps his arm around you, then he takes the popcorn and hands it to you before he places the pizza in his lap. With a smirk, you look at the pizza and then into his blue eyes.

"Needy boy," you mumble into his ear.

You slide your hand over his chest to his stomach until you almost reach his cock, but then you take a slice of pizza and bite into it with a grin. You turn on a movie, Bucky, and you like that your head rests on his shoulder while he has his hand around your waist and pulls you as close as possible.

"Just as needy as I'm," he says, making both of you chuckle.

Bucky takes some popcorn from the bowl, which is standing between your legs, so he has to grasp between your legs like you do when you take a slice of pizza from him.

"Bucky?"

"Mhm?" He asks, half asleep, and pulls you even closer against him.

You smile softly and run your fingers through his soft hair. You move some strands out of his face and lean closer to kiss him. Bucky growls and makes you lie on top of him, his arms holding you tightly pressed against him. His fingers draw small circles on your soft skin, and he hides his face in the crock of your neck.

"Y-You know about my things, which are still at Alex's house, right?" You ask carefully; you don't want to upset Bucky.

He hums in response and looks at you, his blue eyes as soft as always. He leans closer and captures your lips for a passionate kiss, showing you that you don't have to worry about telling him about your ex-boyfriend. Bucky knows you love him just as much as he loves you. And he understands that you want to get your personal stuff from your ex-boyfriend.

"A—And I wanted to ask if— could you maybe come with me to him?"

Bucky immediately nods, rolling both of you over so you're underneath him, and he smirks at you. His soft lips grace over yours and along your jawline to your neck, where he bits softly into your skin. His hands move smoothly over your sides, caressing your skin and causing goosebumps all over your body. You sigh softly and enjoy the warmth and softness of Bucky's touches. He is always so soft and careful with you, like you could break into his hands when he doesn't pay attention. But you don't complain; Bucky is everything for you — the love of your life and your best friend.

After a lot of kisses, cuddles, and a good breakfast, you're ready to go to your ex-boyfriend and get your personal stuff. Your hands are sweating, and you dry them on your pants. Your body is slightly shaking. Bucky recognises that; he wraps his arms around your waist and pulls you flat against his broad chest. Your head rests on his chest, and you listen to his heartbeat.

"He won't hurt you again, babydoll. I'm taking care of you; I'll protect you, and he won't do anything when you don't want it." Bucky mumbles and pushes you softly away.

He presses his lips against your forehead, which helps calm down your nerves. Bucky opens the door for you, holding your hands tight in his while you two walk along the street to the apartment you used to live in a few months ago. When you see the entrance of it already, you panic, stay still, and inhale deeply. Bucky turns toward you and places his hand on your cheek, sliding his thumb over it.

"Doll, you're stronger than you ever were. This man never broke you, and he never will. He can't harm you; I love you, and I won't let him touch you again," Bucky says softly.

He knows how hard it can be to accept a trauma you're carrying in your soul. Wounds that turn into scars, but it needs more time as a cut on the skin. Bucky knows how much you suffered because of your ex-boyfriend, but he also sees the strong woman behind all that pain. He loves you for the person you are, not for the person he wants you to be. When you nod, he leads you further to Alex's apartment. He knocks with a strength you're not used to at the door, and then the door is opened by a man you feel like you don't know.

Alex has messy hair; his beard isn't shaved like he used to, and he has dark shadows underneath his red eyes. He looks like he hasn't slept for a while, but when he sees you, he smiles. A smile you had only seen on his lips when you first met. The one you fell in love with. But when Alex sees Bucky standing next to you and holding your hand in his, his smile drops.

"Hi, I—I would like to get my stuff, please," you mumble.

Surprisingly, Alex nods and takes a step to the side, letting you and Bucky walk into the apartment. When you look around, everything looks similar to the day he threw you out of the apartment. The only difference is that there are clothes and trash on the ground. Bucky lets go of your hand, staying next to you to make sure Alex isn't doing anything. You're walking through the apartment and picking up your things, putting them in a bag you brought.

"Can we talk, please?" He asks when you walk back to the floor, where he is still standing.

You nod carefully, and Bucky kisses your cheek before he walks a step to the side to let the two of you talk. Alex runs his fingers through his hair and his hands over his face, and then he inhales deeply.

"I'm sorry, I—I Baby—“

"Alex, please. We're not together anymore."

"I never wanted to hurt you. I love you. I haven't had a girl since you moved out. Please, I love you. Give me one more chance to show you that I love you. I will be a better boyfriend this time," he says, and you see the tears falling down your cheeks.

You shake your head. And his eyes widen. Realism hits him when he sees that you don't feel the same for him anymore. He sees in your eyes that you moved on, not only in your eyes; you look in general different from the time you were together with him.

"I'm sorry, but I moved on, and you should do the same," you say with such strength in your voice. You never thought you would talk to him like that without fear.

"Please, you— I love you."

"You were strong, and I was not. And you used it — you used it against me. When all is done, there is nothing to say. You have gone, and so effortlessly, you have won. You can go ahead and tell them. You can tell your friends now what you want; you can tell the girls you fuck now how shitty I am and how bad I'm in bed. I never did what you wanted or the way you wanted. Tell them all; I know now that you fucked them all without feeling ashamed to cheat on the girl you have at home, the one who loved you and expected to be treated like you did. To be abused by her boyfriend while still loving him. Shout it from the rooftops; write it on the skyline; all we had is gone now. Tell them I was happy even though my heart was broken. All my scars were open, but I found someone who doesn't mind them and helps to heal them, someone who loves all the scars you caused."

Bucky smirks when he hears your words, and his eyes light up when he hears you tell your ex-boyfriend what was inside of you for so long. And you were finally able to tell him how you felt and how you now feel.

"I know I made mistakes. But I love you."

"Everyone does, but you betrayed me. And falling out of love is hard, but falling for betrayal is worse. And you betrayed me so often. Broken trust and broken hearts — you broke both our hearts; you broke mine when we were together, and yours broke because I moved on. And thinking all you need is there, building faith on love and words, only empty promises will wear. Alex, I loved you, but I moved on, and you should do the same," you say and nod before you walk to Bucky.

He smiles widely at you, his eyes shining in the most beautiful way you have ever seen. You place your hand in his, and he takes the bag before you two make your way to the door and get out of the apartment. When you close the door behind you, you breathe shakily, and you feel like all the pain and fear are fading away. You walk a few steps, but Bucky just can't hold back anymore and stays still, turning around and wrapping his arms around your waist.

"I'm so proud of you, doll. I love you so much. I would tell the whole world; I just do it. I will tell the world how much I love you," Bucky says with a grin, and twirling the two of you around, he then leans closer. "I love you so much, and I'm proud of you. I don't even have words for that; you're the most beautiful woman, and you belong to me; you're mine just as much as I'm yours," he whispers into your ear.

"Thank you. I love you too, Bucky," you giggle, then you smirk playfully. "So, where do you want to go to tell the world that you love me?"

"I already did. When I whispered in your ear that I love you. Because you're my world, my perfect world," Bucky says, kissing you softly.

You feel some tears of joy rolling down your face when you realise his words. No one ever said more meaningful words than Bucky does. He is definitely everything for you, and you are grateful to have such a wonderful and loving man as your boyfriend. One who sees you as the only and most wonderful woman, someone who doesn't even look at other women, and one who tries to make you laugh as often as he can. Bucky is the love of your life, and you're grateful that destiny brought the two of you together and that the two of you discover every day another thing you love about one another.

𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓: @kandis-mom @sergeantbarnessdoll @identity2212 @km-ffluv @lunaalovesyouu @blackhawkfanatic @armystay89 @suz7days @randomawesomeperson102 @rogersbarber @sebastianstanisahotmf @bucky-barnes-lover @felicitylemon @cjand10 @bookishtheaterlover7 @casa-boiardi @futurequeen2018-blog @flstrawberry @capsbestgirl77 @nervouseden @vicmc624 @kpopgirlbtssvt @ordelixx @angelbabyyy99 @mostlymarvelgirl @somegirlfromasgard @buck-buck-buckaroo @lov3lys1ns @etherealdisneyvillainness @s-a-v-a-n-a-34 @jiyascepter @princesscore-angel

[jinnie-ret]

9th member reader where skz are on a talk show or smth and the host is saying some uncomfy stuff abt reader being the only girl in a group of boys. the boys would be kinda passive aggressive about their replies because they cant outright say anything for fear of bad publicity and being disrespectful. i like the idea of the boys sticking up for reader in any way they can, even if they have to be sly about it so reader knows they have their back

bite my tongue

stray kids x ninth member!reader

genre: angst

content warnings: sexual harassment (verbal)

word count: 1.6k

summary: when an interviewer decides to pick on you specifically, the boys do their best to hold back and get you out of the situation.

Thank you so much for this request! I'm sorry it took so long for me to answer but I hope you enjoy it nonetheless!!

As always, like, reblog if you enjoyed, and my asks are open for any requests you may have. And let me know if you'd like to be tagged when I post :)

MAIN MASTERLIST

You decided you hated interviews. There was clearly a difference between how they'd talk to the boys in comparison to how they'd treat you. Whether it was by completely ignoring your existence or sexualising you as the only female in the group, it made you feel awful. The gross comments that were made caused you to feel uncomfortable, yet your demeanour was too shy to fight back. Perhaps that was a good thing, you had 8 other members to defend you at all times anyways.

You were currently doing an interview to promote S-CLASS, your new title track, and it seemed to be a nice atmosphere, a nice sit down conversation where you could talk about your music mixed in with other personal questions to make it more fun. But that was the issue, it wasn't fun. It started off light-hearted, and you worried you were being sensitive and overreacting at first when you suspected the questions you received weren't normal ones, but by the expressions on the boys' faces, you realised you were right to feel this way.

"So, Y/N, tell me, what was it like getting to do a more masculine dance this time? I saw the music video and I was quite surprised at how well you did," the male interviewer started off.

You mouth visibly dropped open in shock, yet you did your best to answer, despite your nerves.

"Ummm, I think my dance skills have improved over the years, yes," you said, not able to make eye contact with the man, not directly saying anything about his prejudiced words.

You had been with Stray Kids from the very start. Yes, the public had their things to say about you being in a group with a bunch of guys, but it had been 5 years now. Of course you were accustomed to the dance style of Stray Kids. You had created your own image through your music and dance, so what if the dance moves were typically more powerful with sharper movements? You were part of the dance line for a reason.

"Our Y/Nnie did so well," Hyunjin ruffled your hair from where he was sat behind you, trying to lighten the mood as he could tell his other members weren't too happy with how you were being treated.

You turned to Hyunjin with a thankful smile.

"So, 3RACHA, you do all the producing for the group right? That's quite a unique situation amongst idol groups," the man asked the group, and nearly everyone let out a sigh of relief and allowed themselves to smile, grateful for a normal question.

"Ah yes, 3RACHA have been together since predebut, so we've worked hard over the years to create music that represents our group and who we are," Jisung nodded and explained.

You couldn't help but check the time on your watch, seeing there was still 10 minutes to go.

"Y/N, how did it feel having to squeeze into your outfit in the MV? I noticed it was quite a tight leather jumpsuit you wore, that must have been difficult to wear considering it clinged onto you so tightly," the man directed his question at you again, and you were taken aback once more.

"It, umm, it wasn't too difficult, yeah... I think it fitted the vibe of the song," you said, clearly uncomfortable as you shifted in your seat.

Why did you get these types of questions? The boys got asked about music, and you instead got ridiculed for your skills and sexualised by the gross man in his mid 40s.

"Don't you want to ask me about how I fitted into my outfit? I've been working out these days," Changbin tensed his arms, flexing and patting his muscles proudly as he took the attention away from you. He seemed to have been thinking the same way as you.

"Maybe you should help Y/N, she's so small and weak, you could do anything you wanted with her," the man suggestively wiggled his eyebrows at you, and quite frankly, you wanted to throw up.

"Have you been working out, sir?" Minho spoke sharply and asked the man, infuriated.

"Oh yes I'm quite strong, can lift just about anyone in this room," he said. The statement of course, inferred he was challenging everyone else, yet his eyes never left your shy and nervous figure sat on the stool.

Everyone could see it. And they knew it was time for something to be done. They didn't think they could last the rest of the interview without punching the interviewer in the face. Yet, they did their best to keep their composure.

"Sorry, sir," Chan began through gritted teeth, tongue poking his cheek, "unfortunately we don't have anymore time for this interview," and he gestured everyone to stand up and follow his lead, exiting the room.

As you did so, you saw the blatantly shocked face on the man's face, Felix wrapping an arm around your shoulder as you left.

The boys were calm, until you made it to your backstage room where you had gotten ready earlier. All hell broke loose.

"What does that man think he's doing?" Changbin slammed his hand down onto the table, making you jump as you stayed quiet.

"I can't believe all those stupid things he was saying!" Minho growled, folding his arms.

"He's disgusting," Seungmin shook his head.

Chan was the angriest of them all, face of thunder as he paced the room. And yet, you couldn't help but feel bad. Surely, that interview couldn't be released now? And it was meant to help promote your new music, and because of your presence in the group, you felt like you were taking that opportunity away from them.

"Y/Nnie?" Jeongin waved his hand in your face to get your attention.

"Hmm?" you shook your head wondering what he was asking.

"Are you okay?" he asked gently, and with all the anger that was in the room, it dissipated with your calm voice breaking through it.

"I guess..." you didn't really know what to say at this point. You felt like you should have been used to it by now.

"I know that look on your face, Y/Nnie, don't even go there," Chan shook his head at you, a frown still present on his face.

"I don't want to do interviews anymore," you suddenly blurted, fiddling with your hands nervously.

"Y/N..." Hyunjin sighed, but you cut him off.

"Every time we promote something we get an interview like this that can't be put out to the public. And it's because I'm here. And then that means our music will be getting out to less people out there and-" you fretted.

"If you seriously think this is your fault Y/N," Seungmin sat up, pure disbelief seeping through his words as he couldn't believe that even with the way you were being treated you still felt guilty.

"Y/N, you didn't make that interviewer say all those gross things towards you," Felix rubbed your shoulder soothingly.

"You actually did really well to still try and answer him," Jisung nodded at you, thinking that he wouldn't have been able to have done the same thing.

"I had to bite my tongue so many times to not shout at him," Changbin gritted his teeth.

"This is why I shouldn't do these anymore, because it just ends up stressing you guys out," you felt bad, sitting down with your leg bouncing up and down.

"You're worried about us? We're worried about you, it's not fair that someone talks to you like that," Jeongin shook his head, hands on his hips.

"Y/N, here's what we're going to do. First, we're going to file a complaint against that guy. And second, for all future interviews we'll get the company to do a thorough check on if they're respectful and actually treat their guests right," Chan began, a plan already sorted in his mind for what action they could take.

"You're part of this group as much as anyone else, we can't represent Stray Kids without you there with us," Minho said like it was obvious, but it didn't feel that way to you.

"But it's always going to be the same thing. I'd rather not risk it again," you say, upset at the situation you had all been put in.

"Chan hyung already said, we can check what the show is like before going on it. That way you can decide from there, yeah?" Felix suggested, hand stroking through your hair as he sat next to you on the sofa.

"Or if you really don't want to do interviews anymore, I'm sure there's a way we can work around it. We could do more company based promotions and Div.1 can help us make our own shows?" Jisung wondered.

"No, I don't want to make things more complicated... I'll do them, I will, I just don't want this to ever happen again. It stresses me out, makes me feel all, gross," you shuddered.

"As long as you're sure, Y/N," Changbin checked in on you as everyone grabbed their things ready to leave the studio.

"Yeah, I'm sure," you mustered up a small smile, leaving with the others.

As you walked to the cars, you spoke up again, speaking louder than your normal quiet voice to catch the attention of everyone else.

"Thanks, by the way guys. Thank you for doing that."

"You don't have to thank us for that, Y/Nnie. We'd do that anytime, you know that," Hyunjin ruffled your hair, him and the rest of the boys now seeming more themselves and happier as you were leaving.

tagged: @skz-streamer @kiraisastay @hannahhbahng

[grlpartdoll]

Part Two of this :] finally CEO price and boss Simon :] not proofread we die like men. Aarrrrmmm 18+ minors blocked on sight Nd there is filthy smut in here so if dat makes u uncomfy stay out!!

Your first instinct is to immediately go seek out your best friend, Soap — with whom you'd worked a good amount of years until you were transfered to the technical unit, and then to the role of assistant.

He lets you ramble as he works (Johny has a bad habit of always working on his lunch hour. You've tried to take it outta him, but he just won't budge, the stubborn bastard) and eventually pipes up when you mention the reason of your ire.

Simon. Mister Riley, as you call him.

"Simon's got you all work'd up? Really? The big ole brute?"

"You try working under him! He- he's like a giant six foot four body of grumpiness and inability to show a grain of appreciation!"

He looks at you, staring for what feels like forever until you let out a whole, long sigh.

"And unfortunately for me, he's also got.."

"That mug of his?" Soap whistles. "Woulda done it, if he wasn' so painfully straight."

You wrinkle your nose at that, shaking away the thoughts of the two of them being together.

You toss your fork back in your plastic plate, very much understanding that hell awaits you when you go back. Which, as you glance at the clock, realize that the time is ever approaching.

"Well. It will have been nice meeting you, Johny-boy."

He pats your head as he gets up, finally taking his eyes off of his screen and going to the nearby trash to dump all of your and his leftovers.

"It'll be fine. Just bat those pretty lashes at him and he'll let you off."

You kiss your teeth, cocking your head as you think maybe. Maybe, it could work for once. Though you're not sure there's anything soft of mellow underneath the constant armor he wears, your sure that... Well.. there is something.

You have to try. For the sake of your job and your livelihood.

.

When you step out of the elevator into the last level of the building — the technical unit's office space, as well as mister Price's office and now Simon's, you notice one thing. It's awfully quiet.

Usually, the technical team is quite chatty. Being made up of mostly young adults fresh out of high school, they always seemed to have something to laugh and giggle about. Which is why the silence now unsettles you.

You also notice, side-stepping the rows of empty desks, that the door to yours and Simon's office is closed, and the glass fogged up — thanks to the technology that allowed him by the click of a remote to make it so.

Usually, his office only goes on full lockdown when he's in serious board meetings, or when he's in a foul mood, and you're ready to bet it's the latter this time.

You chew on your lower lip anxiously as you knock on the glass pane. A voice tells you to come in, and you freeze a little when you recognize mister Price's voice.

You slip in, either way, forcing your frozen limbs to move and take you inside.

The door closes loudly behind you, glass panel knocking agaisnt each other. You clutch the papers you carried all the way up from the reception against your chest, wide eyes going itchy when you don't blink for too long.

"Here she is," Price smiles wide at you. He's sitting on the couch opposite of Simon's desk, a leg propped against the coffee table, and a cigar dangling from his lips.

Your former boss had always been fond of you — had always been so kind to you.— which is why you seek his eyes out first.

"Hi, mister Price." You manage through a right throat. You turn to Simon, who's already staring holes into you, examining you from head to toe, but taking special interest to your face for a moment too long. "I wasn't aware you had a meeting today."

"It was impromptu," John says for Simon, standing from his position. He walks to you, and lays his hands on your shoulders. Something he seems to do a lot — youve noticed when he's around other employees also.

He squeezes yours, maybe a bit too roughly, but nothing that shakes you to the core. If anything, it's a comforting touch.

"How many times have I told you to call me John, kid?"

"As many times as I've asked you to call me by my name, mister Price."

He laughs, loud and boisterous. He turns to Simon, who's still just... Staring. Price points a thumb at me, smiling with fully a fully reconstructed set of teeth, white and gleaming. Though they aren't uncanny like most sets of fake teeth, you can tell when he smiles like this that his canines are too unnatural to be his.

"Always liked her, this one."

"As you've mentioned." Simon practically grumbles.

Price tsks at him, shaking him off with a wave of his hand.

"Come sit with me." He tells you. And because you don't know what to do right now, you listen.

Once youre settled, and Price has taken another puff of his cigar, he clears his throat and gives you a more serious look.

"So. Simon here is telling me you're having... Problems."

"I—"

Did he have to bring the CEO into this? Really? You crumble a little, shoulders caving into yourself.

"I apologize for my words, mister Riley, I was.." you drift off, staring at your hands on your lap. It doesn't feel real at all, that you're here getting reprimanded by the CEO himself.

"This is not about you," the older man says after another puff, and it jostles you a little that mister Price pats you on the knee, keeping his touch respectful. You look at Simon to see if he notices, and his eyes don't let anything betray him. The only thing that gives you pause is the way his hands tighten around the edges of his chair.

"Pardon?"

"It's Simon here, who's been overworking my best girl."

"I—"

You don't know what to say. You stare at the both of them.

Price's left side of his lips tilt upwards at what he finds in your face.

"I told him, when I handed you over, to be good to you."

"Sir, Its really fine —" you say, if only because you don't want to lose your job.

Smoke from his cigar blows towards you, and you cough a little behind your hand, face flaring with heat.

"Quiet, dollie."

You frown a little at that, though an unsettling feeling does grow within you, lower in your stomach.

"Come here, Boy."

Simon moves from his chair, and it's sheer surprise that makes your spine straighten. You'd never heard anyone dare speak to him that way — like a.. dog.

Ghost stands before you, and it's really ridiculous how while you sit, you come face to face with his crotch, and how much you want to lick the buldge.

That thought alone makes you shiver, and you wriggle in your seat.

"Kneel for her, Simon."

A noise rumbles in your boss' chest, but he does, and when he looks up at you, you're starstrucked. He's so handsome, old and rugged, yes, but he is so beautiful. With bright eyes, sharp features and a long face, yet fitting face for all of his features.

And when he looks into your eyes, with those thin fluttery blond lashes, you find yourself not being able to deny whatever he is he's about to do.

A hand snatches your attention from Simon, calloused fingers softly putting strands of your hair behind your ear.

"Simon's gonna show you how sorry he is about being such a pain in that perfect fucking arse of yours, okay, dollie?"

"N-no, I- I don't think that's appropriate, it's really—" a squeak cuts you off as Simon wraps his big, beefy hands around the back of your thighs and pulls you into your back.

You settle heavily, hair like a hallo around you. You can only stare up at Price as he smokes, watching Simon hungrily watching what lays between your pretty legs.

"Such a pretty little thing," Price coos, still a hand on your head.

You don't know why, but tears prickle at your eyes, and your heart is beating out of your chest. You want this — and yet, somehow, youre afraid.

"Go on, Simon." Price orders, and as he does so, he manspreads on the couch further, making it so your head is basically laying against his thigh. Strong and thick, though a bit softer now that he's retired.

Simon grunts a little. "M'sorry, little dove.."

His fingers splays themselves open on top of your mount, a sort of reverant touch you're not all that used to. He toys with your underwear.

"Couldn't let y'go home. Couln't have y'going on dates with tha' manchild..."

"Mister riley—"

"Simon," he growls. "When m'head is between your thighs, it's Simon to ya', pretty."

"It's fine, you don't have to.." your voice is thin, and you don't mean it.

Price ticks his tongue as though he can hear the lies on your tongue. He rubs his hand through your scalp, soothing you. "Show the pretty doll just how much she deserves."

Simon lowers himself, and his lips trail up your underwear, where a wet patch is steadily growing.

"M'sorry, dovie." He says again, sounding everything but sorry. His fingers gently slide your briefs off, and his face flushes at the sight of you, his eyes going a bit more shiny.

You've never seen him that way — always the severe faced boss everyone wants to avoid. But like this.. it looks like he's infatuated and has nothing else on his mind but eating you alive.

His teeth surprisingly sink into your thigh, and you jerk, a noise like a mewl making it out of your mouth. Price shushes you gently.

When Simon pulls back, there's a mark, but you're not bleeding. It somehow makes your heart sore a little to see his mark.

"Don't tease th'poor thing," Price scolds, and you're watering eyes can barely see as he shakes his head at the younger man.

Simon growls, and shrugs. He digs in right away, lapping at you, holding your thighs so tightly you know it'll bruise.

His teeth rake only slightly against your bundle of nerves, and it has you jerking and crying out. Price quickly soothes you though, his now free hand that previously held a cigar rubbing your tummy, but also pressing it down so you stay still for mister Riley.

Simon is good, though. He eats you out like a man starved, and fucks your little hole with his tongue until you're gushing and crying and writhing against his mouth.

Even then he doesn't relent, and Price holds you, keeping you in place.

"C-cant—" you cry out, but Simon growls, and he, somehow, just goes harder, adding his fingers to the mix.

And then he's stroking that spot deep in you, his fingers unrelenting and rough in you, coaxing more orgasms from you.

At some point, you realize that you're seeing stars — literal stars. You can't feel your toes, and your legs on Simon's shoulders.

Simon only lets go because Price feels as you bite his thigh through his pants and pries him off.

Simon's face is slick all over the lower part of it, and he still looks hungry, fingers scissoring you open to look inside you. "Can't wait to fuck you open.." he sighs darkly, and you have to keen impression that he's not talking to you directly.

"Do you know how Sorry Simon is now, dollie? He'll be nice, won't he?"

Simon's eyes darken, and his lips curl. "Sure. G'nna be real nice to ha'."

[moneymartin]

・❥・- one more?

summary: kate comes home tired and needy :( part two to this fic. build up drabble to part three

warnings: none! fluff cause its kate :3 this is kinda shorter than the last one soz. again, every divider is a skip. most are constant cuz im lazy. didn’t know how to end oops!!!

rpf dont read it if ur uncomfy thx

a/n: all yjs reqs r still itw soooo they’ll be out soon poopies 🙄 also my single part drabble for kate is lowk marinating in my drafts and i don’t have the motivation to finish it…

its been 5 months since you and kate finally ended up together. pretty long, right? but you two never really got the hang of this thing, especially after remembering how long those feelings between you two had been brewing up for. it was still hard for you to show up to her games and practice due to soccer season, and the second it ended, you showed up to nearly every single one of them.

“i really can’t come this time, baby, i told you!” you grumble while kate drags you across the dorm. they had their practice game at carver today but you couldn’t make it, which made kate upset. “dilanni is gonna kill me if i don’t show up.” your soccer team needed to show up together for this fundraiser, and it was during the offseason. fucking lame. you hated letting her down all the time but some things like this just needed to be done.

kate’s fingers grip at your sweater sleeve, her eyes soft, and lips slightly pouting. “can you please just say you feel sick!? you’ll finish quicker than i will and it’s not like they won’t let you in.” she begs and tugs a little at it. her height makes you a little overwhelmed but she’s slightly bent at the knees and trying to make herself seem smaller than she really is. “kate, its just practice. its not like its the final fours yet.” you sigh and make her stand up straight. your eyes dart to hers and you bring your hands up to cup her face. the way she leans into your touch makes your face flush up like never before.

“yeah, but you always show out! i know we’re still trying to keep this on the down low still but i love pointing at you in the crowd before i make a shot during our practices.” she complains, trying to pull her head away from your hands but you keep her in place like a vice. your thumb brushes up against her face and she sighs under her breath. all those shots that she makes have all been for you ever since. and you didn’t even know that. everything she did on the court was meant for you. “i’ll make a deal with you, okay?” your words make her feel a little bit better and she nods ecstatically.

“when you get back we can do whateverrrr you want to make you feel better about me not showing up. does that sound good?” you propose, the idea crossing your mind after you realize that she just wants to spend that time with you while her teammates try to piece together this big puzzle. none of them know other than caitlin, and they’re completely unaware of you and kate’s relationship. “yes! okay, deal! deal deal deal…!” she blurts out and smiles stupidly, leaning her head towards you again as a sign that she wants a kiss.

you give it and let go of her face, wrapping your arms around her waist quickly and pressing another big kiss to her cheek. “don’t work yourself too hard out there.” you breathe out and pat her back before letting go of it. “this fundraiser should only be an hour, trust me.” kate just shrugs and smiles again, less big but you still know that she’s pretty happy at your little proposition for when she gets back. the moment you walk out of that door, her face drops and she rubs awkwardly at the back of her neck. she’s alone now, and doesn’t know what to do. you’ve been with her for every game and every practice so she’s lost most of her motivation to go. “aw, dang it..”

after your little fundraiser, you come home exhausted and dreary when you realize kate is gone too. you two are exactly the same person, lost without one another. it’s cute but sometimes it’s hard. this whole relationship thing is such a different concept and it makes your head hurt. the lock clicks on the door and you dig through your closet, finding a pair of pjs and some small shirt kate likes seeing you wear for ‘some reason’. which is what she says every time you ask.

a quick change and your casual clothes scatter across the floor before you basically face plant into the pillows. a warm feeling fills up your body while you fall asleep, a feeling that seems different still without kate. you two always sleep and take naps together so this is another thing you have to get yourself used to.

the stupid fundraiser ran longer than it should have. at least another 30-45 minutes extra and you weren’t very prepared for it. kids were all over the place too and you were somewhat on babysitting duty? according to your teammates. you stood with all the kids for at least an hour and the questions they asked you were probably the stupidest things ever.

the sound of the door opening is what wakes you up, fingers instinctively rubbing your eyes and sitting up. you’re met with the sight of kate rummaging sluggishly through her backpack and taking out clothes. she mumbles out a small ‘hi’ and yawns, walking into the bathroom. the sound of the shower hits your ears and you just lay back down, trying to keep yourself awake to fulfill that proposal you made earlier.

a few moments after the shower turns off, the bathroom door opens and your mattress shifts in weight, a few drops of water coaxing you to open up your eyes. kate is sitting on the edge of the bed and she tucks herself in, burying her face into your neck. “how was practice?” you mutter, moving her wet strands of hair to sprawl out on the bed. she grumbles into your neck instead of instantly responding. “tiring, huh?” you ask.

“extremely.” she whispers breathily and looks up at you. kate’s eyes are slightly droopy and her lips are pursed. your arm wraps itself around her back and you tilt her head up with your hand, making her look up at you as you start rubbing her temples gently. kate’s eyes are opening and closing continuously while your fingers continue to massage her head and she huffs heavily a few times.

you push kate’s head into your neck again and slide your hands onto her shoulders, patting them gently to make her fall asleep easier. she doesn’t though. instead, she hoists her head up and quickly locks her lips with yours, grabbing your waist and holding herself up with her arms. her fingers are gripping at the bedsheets tight and she’s kissing you a little bit too hard. not that you mind, of course. “mmmf.. hey?” you pant and pull away from the kiss, making eye contact with kate and realizing where she’s placed her hands.

“i’m just kissing you.” kate mumbles and doesn’t even bother waiting for you to finish catching your breath. she kisses you again, propping herself up on her elbows and grabbing your arms to wrap around her waist. “y- yeah! but like… let me get a breather at least.” you laugh quietly. you’re still trying to catch your breath and the more you try to get away, the more persistent she becomes. “c’mon. you’re just sleepy, baby. get your butt to bed and you’ll be alllll good in the morning.” you smile and push her shoulders down.

kate ends up falling onto your body and her nose brushes up against your cheek, her lips running up and down your neck as she starts kissing all over it. “one more..” she rasps out and slides her hands underneath your shirt. she starts to claw your back a few times, whining into your neck when you try to push her away. “kate, please.” you grunt and pull back, nearly falling off of the edge of the bed.

her face is the same one as earlier. her big, pretty blue eyes going soft and her lips pouting. she looks like a sad puppy and you hate it. you hate how you can’t say no to it. “just one more! this is the last one and i’ll sleep, i swear.” kate spits out and tilts her head to the side. she yawns, her eyes getting watery and now you know that it’s basically over for you. “i can’t.” you mutter. “yes, you can. it’s just one more kiss, babe. please?!”

“all you have to do is give me one, and i’ll sleep!”

“you say this all the time! you’re gonna say that you’ll ‘sleep after’ but the second my lips land on yours, you’re gonna act like an animal.”

“that’s not true.”

“oh, yeah? watch.”

you cup her cheeks and she grabs your waist gently, your lips going in for one quick one. when she feels how warm you are and how much you’re trying to really prove a point, she just helps your claim anyways. kate’s lips are against yours again, kissing hungrily.

i mean, she’s practically eating away at your face.

[isackwhy]

still high but cooking. I SHARE COOK

isaacwhy x chubby! reader hc’s sfw

(small mentions of ED)

sfw

AS SOMEONE W EXPERIENCE

gym rats love us

as much as we want to deny it bc of insecurities they love us

so pls don’t be worried about that w him. i get it but he’ll reassure u each time that it doesn’t matter to him

plus i’m pretty sure yumi was talking about the new gamersupps girl who was chubby like the new design or whatever and that isaac liked it. which he didn’t deny

i need to re-find that podcast if anyone knows LMK

if ur a content creator and get the occasional hate on ur body and it gets to it isaac is immediately distracting you

telling u it’s bullshit

“some days they get me. other days they don’t.”

“yeah? fuck them. you’re hot.”

the first few times he asks if u want to go to the gym u say no out of fear and bc in ur head he was saying u needed to go

he assured u that’s not what he meant and that he just wanted to spend time w u anywhere :)

if u guys were bffs beforehand he knows every little warning sign that ur getting insecure about ur body

even if u aren’t he learns quickly

he notices how ur suddenly counting calories or eating less or staying in pjs and not wanting to be intimate

u feel bad. feeling like it might just be repetitive at this point for him

“you always help me when i feel like shit, right? everytime i stress about a video or feel like it’ll be shit you help me. and that’s kinda often. why wouldn’t i help you?” is what he says everytime u feel bad

obsessed w ur thighs

always grabbing onto them, laying them across his legs

love handles? he puts them to use 👍🏻 ykyk

if ur like me u don’t like whoever ur dating to touch ur tummy while ur cuddling. like it’ll remind them it’s there

this man will kiss ur stomach the first time it happens and honest to god u kinda hate it but he’s whispering such sweet things u can’t stop him

“you’re so pretty. so so pretty.”

“alright alright stop please.”

“not till you believe me.”

u hate when u smile bc of ur double chin that always makes an appearance but isaac has a whole folder labeled “y/n’s smile” so pls take a breath

“i’d look better in that if i was someone else,” u point to the somewhat fitting dress on ur screen

“if u don’t buy that right now i might have a stroke, babe.”

u buy it. well. he buys it. it comes in the mail and u we’re not leaving the house that day

ur known to his community and when rumors start to swirl that u guys might be dated, there was also hate that came w it

“isaac would never date someone like that.” a comment reads

that’s a fear of urs ofc but….he’s currently laying next to u and not some other random person so

soft launching until u just give in and hard launch

u guys were already all over each others stories and social medias but after u guys start dating and want to slowly reveal it u guys post a picture of each other every month on the date of ur anniversary w out any context

it’s fun lowkey

will always back u up

the boys and him make sure they don’t fat jokes around u

u told them it’s fine bc it’s a thing between them but isaac could see how uncomfy u got w then sometimes

when he can tell ur mental state is affecting how u see how u look he won’t talk about the gym around u and makes sure the boys don’t either

just the little things

he tried to give u hoodies but u refuse bc ur scared they won’t fit u

he has oversized hoodies and looks at u like ur crazy

“this will fit you babe,” he shakes the black hoodie in front of u as u shiver from the breeze in his backyard

“no. no. i’m fine.”

“lifts ur arms up—“

“wha—“

“lift!”

u comply. the hoodie fits.

“told u.”

nsfw >:)

u didn’t wanna show him ur body the first time around

u left ur oversized hoodie on, isaacs hands snaked under it to hold ur boobs

body worship bruh

kisses every part of u, leaving marks and little bites along ur thighs

u also made him leave the lights off until recently

“i wanna see you properly baby,” he says between the kisses of a heavy makeout

you pout, “isy—“

“you’re gorgeous. you’re amazing and i want to see all of it,” he says, attacking your neck in kisses

how could u not give in honestly

at this point the hoodie is gone everything and u try and use ur arms to cover urself but he won’t let you nope nope nope

fucks u in front of a mirror everytime u feel like shit

“look how pretty, hm? u can’t see what i see? i’ll make sure you do. don’t worry, hun.”

he said that while holding eye contact w u and u nearly lost it there

[im-yn-suckers]

just a small cut

bf riki x gf reader

warnings- reader is said to cut themself :( skip if uncomfy, kisses, hugs, lmk what else

two things, im about 2 weeks clean from sh !! and its mybfs bdayyyy!! im so excited to continue the journey w my baeee

two weeks ago you found yourself on the bathroom floor of your shared apartment, crying. a shard of sharp glass dragged against your skin, creating little slits.

a week later, niki noticed the scar on your arms, 'when did you do this?' "last week" tears filled your eyes, you hurt yourself two weeks prior to his birthday, why, just to draw attention? he didnt care, he cared about your safety

he made you feel loved even when you were down and always made sure you knew he loved you. the day before his birthday came and you went to the store while he was at dance practice.

you went immediately to the craft store and bought some colorful markers and some of that brown craft paper. you bought some cake mix, frosting, sprinkles, and a box for his gift. the next morning you made some breakfast, after sneaking away from the sleepy birthday boy.

he showed up in the kitchen to find the brown craft paper rolled on the table and markers in a mason jar. you set his gift in the middle and placed a letter on top. not noticing your boyfriend walking in the room, you continued cooking. he hugged you, taking you by surprise, and acted like he didnt see the small box.

'happy birthday baby!' you said with excitement. 'thank you'

'here, sit down and eat so you can open your gift.'

he did as you told him to, he sat down, he ate his food and put his plate away. he opened his gift and a polaroid taken this morning of his family.

'whats this?' he asked 'why dont you come with me and see'

you led him by the hand to the door, told him to close his eyes, and signaled for people to come in.

'open!' he stood for s second and recognized his family, his hands rose up to his face 'well, go say hi to them'

he walked to his parents hugging them, with tear rolling down his face. he hugged his sisters next. a few hours later, a movie played and you were in the kitchen prepping a bowl with snacks.

you wanted to make the boys day special, and you did

neway first part is kind of irrelevant but i mean, why not

HAPPY BIRTHDAY NIKIIIIII, I LOVE HIM SO MUCH AND I HOPE HE HAS A GOOD BIRTHDAY

[aechawrites]

200mph: part one | jjk

pairing: jungkook x reader

word count: 2k

rating: pg13

warnings: swearing, mentions of drinking and smoking, y/n is a little uncomfy but jimin stays with her like a good bff, brief mention of a racing accident

summary: as jungkook begins the new racing season, a face he’s never seen before quickly catches his attention.

series masterlist

next chapter ↻

✏︎

“I don’t understand why you want me to go, you have guy friends that are interested in that kind of stuff, don’t you?”

“That’s not the point, Y/n. If I wanted them to go, I would’ve asked them by now, but I asked you.”

You sighed, slightly shaking your head at the begging boy in front of you while slowly making eye contact with the ground and lowering yourself onto the foot of your bed. Your arms were wrapped around your upper body and you couldn’t help but let out another huff, contemplating whether or not you should give him a bullshit excuse as to not go.

Jimin has been your best friend since you were young kids, meeting for the first time in elementary school. As you grew up, the two of you became inseparable, always spending time together. And on a typical day you would have loved spending your Friday night with him, that is, up until recently.

As the two of you began college back in the fall, you both started to branch out and try new things. You knew Jimin was going to fit right in with the frat boys and it was reassuring to have someone watch your back at their parties; it made them a little more bearable. What you did not expect was for Jimin to gain an interest in motorsports, specifically street racing.

You had heard him saying not too long ago that some of the guys in the frat house raced occasionally. 'Big money,' he said, but if only you knew just exactly how much those winners were getting paid, as well as the spectators who decided to bet on certain drivers.

The two of you had just gotten takeout and were lying in your dorm room while watching (and making fun of) random reality shows. You had gotten up to use the bathroom just to come back out and have Jimin spring onto you that there was a street race tonight and a couple of his frat brothers would be there racing.

And instead of going by himself and making friends like the social butterfly he is, he of course had to invite you.

Now here you were, brain working overtime trying to come up with some lame excuse to seem busy. But Jimin knew you weren't.

"Y/n, I promise you'll have a good time tonight. It's not as boring as you think. We'll only be there for an hour or two and then we can come back to the dorms," he expressed while softly pouting his lips at you.

"What's in it for me?"

Jimin rolled his eyes at you. "I'll finish your damn English paper, okay?"

Although still reluctant, you agreed to go. As long as this doesn't become a regular Friday night occurrence for you, how bad could it be? It also helped that he gave you the biggest eye smile after you said yes.

♥︎⦁⦁⦁⦁⦁⦁⦁⦁⦁⦁⦁⦁⦁⦁⦁⦁⦁⦁⦁⦁⦁⦁⦁⦁⦁⦁⦁⦁⦁⦁⦁⦁⦁⦁⦁⦁⦁⦁⦁⦁♥︎

You thought that maybe four to five people would be here racing, bringing a few friends each, but no. Not at all. In fact, the streets were packed like a full house. There had to have been roughly twenty guys standing alongside their expensive muscle cars, engines roaring loudly and echoing through the streets, wheels shining as camera flashes blinded them. There were also probably two hundred people who got their asses up to come out tonight to see these men race. The atmosphere seemed similar to some of the parties you had been to, so it was to no surprise that it garnered a large viewing.

But putting it simply, you were intimidated. It was very crowded and here you were being dragged behind Jimin as he tried to get the two of you closer to the front where the start/finish line was located. Was it really necessary for these large muscular men to keep giving you side eye as you bumped into them?

Had it not been for the dozens of lights and neon signs hung up everywhere, the streets would have practically looked like a ghost town. There was nothing here, close to abandonment, which made for the perfect place. Old beer cans and ashes scattered the ground, you noted that they must have been racing here for a lot longer than you originally thought.

You brought your gaze up, looking around when you noticed there were cigarettes and blunts everywhere. Almost every guy here was either smoking or drinking, sharing with the girls who had draped themselves overtop of them. They were practically naked as they wore knee-high strappy stilettos and those short, skimpy skirts (the ones that stop just below their ass cheeks), paired with either a very cropped tank top, or a V-neck top that rested so low that their breasts would fall out any minute. It was almost impossible not to catch a glimpse of their lacey thongs as they wrapped their arms around the guys' shoulders. Although you knew those guys were enjoying the attention they got, the views being an added bonus.

But what were you wearing tonight? A t-shirt and jeans.

Did Jimin tell you about the unofficial "dress code" for this kind of event? Nope.

You wouldn't have dressed like them even if he had told you, but you also could've worn something even a slight bit more revealing than this! Even if it was a skirt that went mid-thigh along with a tighter top!

You felt a nudge on your shoulder, breaking your train of thought and gaze away from the crowd and closing back on Jimin. His hand was on your elbow as he pulled you closer, leaning down to your ear and started yelling, but you could still barely hear him over the blasting music. "The race is about to start; my pick is Jeon."

"I guess I'll go with him then, too," you said as you smiled back up at him. The two of them had been good friends for a while, so what better choice?

You had heard of Jeon Jungkook, even seeing him around a few times when partying with Jimin. How could you miss him whenever he wore those tight jeans and white shirts that hugged his muscles so perfectly, complementing his tanned skin. And his tattoos! God those fucking tattoos made you want to drop to your knees right then and there for him. It didn't help that he not only had an eyebrow piercing, but also a lip ring that he just couldn't seem to stop playing with. Jungkook is a very attractive man, and you could agree with that whether you were in a drunken state or not.

But you knew Jungkook hadn't heard of you. There was no way. In fact, he never even spared you a glance at any of those parties. His tongue seemed to be always shoved down someone else's throat. The only mutual friend the two of you had was Jimin, but since you both came from complete opposite sides of his life, you were rarely crossed paths with each other.

Yet again, your thoughts were quickly broken, startling you as everyone began to cheer louder; you noticed the guys were now getting into their respective cars. Engines revved as each of their names were introduced, girls fawning and screaming over them.

As everyone moved out of the street and onto the sidewalks, the announcer walked onto the platform, taking the mic. "I want a clean race gentlemen. You know how this goes; first place takes it all. Ready... Set... GO!"

And with that, they were out of your sight as they sped off and made the first turn. From where Jimin had you standing, there were large screens visible on the side of the buildings that showed them from a drone view as they raced through the city. It was terrifying watching as they weaved around each other, just narrowly avoiding a few obstacles that happened to be in the way.

It was easy for you not to lose sight of Jungkook. He stood out by driving the brightest neon blue Chevrolet Camaro you had ever seen, decorated with white stripes down the middle. He also happened to be leading significantly in front of the other racers, giving him just enough time to makes turns a bit more cautiously.

You turned back to Jimin. "How long are they racing for?"

"Usually about 7 miles. Not too long, but just long enough to get a good race out of these guys."

You nodded your head, eyes focusing back onto the screens.

You winced when some of the girls would let out these high-pitched shrieks whenever they saw two of the guys spin each other around, smoke engulfing their cars, but the racing never stopped. It didn't matter what happened or how badly they would place, the race would go on without them.

A few minutes passed by and you could hear the engines becoming significantly louder as they approached the finish line, back where you all stood. The overhead camera still focused on Jungkook as he led the group, but you could see someone quickly coming up from behind him.

You hear Jimin mumble, "Fuck Y/n, if he blocks he might actually win this."

And that he did.

The guy behind was racing aggressively, but Jungkook was able to perfectly block him each time he made an attempt to get around his car, which made for an extremely close photo finish as he sped past the checkered flag. Obviously, all the girls were now cheering even louder than before, starting to run into the street and up to Jungkook as he climbed his way out.

But that's reasonable because fuck did he look so good. Beads of sweat were running down his forehead as his bangs fell in front of his face. That large, tattooed arm of his just had to push the strands of jet-black hair back while a smirk was displayed across his face. He was winking to the girls all around him, once again playing with that damn lip ring.

Jimin pulled you with him to go congratulate Jungkook as they announced his name, but you kept yourself hidden behind his back. This just wasn't your place; you weren't friends with Jungkook, you didn't even know him. Most of their frat brothers were there, high fives and fist bumps being shared between them all, and you stood awkwardly, like you were invading their space.

"Jungkook holy fuck! You're a fucking monster out there!" Jimin laughed as the two of you had shuffled your way directly in front of Jungkook. You had been attempting to stay hidden behind Jimin, but one glance up and now you were making eye contacting with the winner himself.

God, he looked even better up close, those big brown eyes of his displaying so much joy. Maybe a hint of cockiness, too. Just slightly, though.

You, however, quickly looked away, looking anywhere but at him. But Jungkook didn't, he kept his eyes focused on you. Whatever Jimin had been saying became muffled and was going in one of his ears and out the other.

Jungkook was confused. Were you one of Jimin's friends? How had he never seen you before? He definitely would have noticed and remembered you! Were you usually at these races?

He must have zoned out and before he knew it, you and Jimin had started walking away from him as more people tried coming closer to talk to and congratulate him about the win. The girls you had observed from the beginning of the night were now wrapping their arms around him, posing for pictures to post to social media, but he didn't even bother to pay them any attention.

As the night passed by, Jungkook tried celebrating with the rest of his frat house but just couldn't get the picture of you out of his head. Who were you? He made a note to himself to question Jimin once he came back for the night.

///

a/n; it's finally here!! i'm so excited for this series and i really hope you are too!!!!! please leave feedback🤍🤍

2023; © aechawrites

[maaarshieee]

⎯⎯ ୨ Pet names (HCs) ୧ ⎯⎯

ੈ♡˳ Il Dottore x Gn!Reader *ೃ༄

ੈ♡˳ Masterlist *ೃ༄

author's note ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚

this is a just a random thought while i was brain rotting to a mutual... yes. more soft dottore (with a hint of feral)... also the warnings are back! whew! this feels MUCH better! its so biazzare to have a fic of him w/o them! anyways, have a good day/night! also one of the scenes has a connection to a request im working on LMAO,, so tired,, had to finish this b4 i fell asleep UDJKS

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ cw: canon typical violence, blood, mentions of experimentation, injuries, implied murder, BASIC DOTTORE WARNINGS, reader is equally crazy as dottore, longer than i anticipated, hurt/comfort at one part (breakdown??), kinda suggestive at one part??? idfk, don't take this lightly-the first bullet's scenario's part is different from the fics ive written before; k1dnapping (NOT THE READER)... just skip the first bullet's scenario if you're uncomfy

For some odd reason, you've kept a small list of Dottore's pet names for you. It was part of your silly antics that never ceased even if you've gotten together with a man known for his violent tendencies when irritated by someone. Of course, you were the unspoken exception, but keeping a list of such things? Well, you wouldn't be so sure if Dottore would be very fond of the thought since he'd always retaliate and pretend as if nothing had happened whenever you pointed out his acts of love for you. It was for fun! It was personal; something that will never see the light of day, and your lover's eyes.

Each pet name had a comment. Whether it was how you felt when he first used it or a rating, it was all scribbled down on the old piece of paper. You've begun listing ever since you got into a romantic relationship during your Akademiya days. Hence, the paper was wrinkled and quite frail, but you kept it in a rather acceptable condition. It doesn't have much, but the memory each held was something unforgettable; something to be forever cherished by you, it showed sides of Dottore that only you get to see and have the grace to experience. It was extremely meaningful to you, especially when the man you've got wrapped around your fingers is Il Dottore, the second harbinger of the Fatui.

It's not like you'll eventually forget these memories you've reverized as precious, it was simply a reminder. Like a photo album! They were too good to be kept inside your head, so you put them on display for your eyes only.

Love/Lovely - Woah! He actually called me that! Too bad the situation wasn't romantic at all. But it was nice for him to address me by that... given that we've been dating for over a year now. A 10/10 pet name ♡

'I want to kill him.'

Those words rang inside Zandik's head, your voice endlessly echoing at the back of his mind whilst he attempted to focus writing on a scroll regarding his latest research. Yet his hands trembled the harder he forced his hand to still until the pen he was writing with eventually broke in his grasp, crushed in his fist as ink exploded all over his gloved hand and scripture. Though he had made a mess, it was the least of his concerns. Someone had the nerve to upset you for so long. He knew you weren't very outspoken, so when you hated someone, you shove that contempt down your throat and swallow it down when it surfaces back up.

But Zandik was different. He can and will deal with people that have enough courage to waste his precious time with their worthless blabbering or get in his way. Dealing with your problems is similar to how he would deal with his. For you are his lover, the only person, across the sea of people, through the stars and the land of Teyvat, he could truly give a damn about. Your enemies are his enemies too. Seeing you gnash your teeth in frustration, your forehead creasing unpleasantly from furrowing your brows, and your eyes brimming with glistening tears that threatened to fall; something inside of him twisted it. It was as if his insides, his heart, were being stretched and squeezed all at the same time. If he felt that way, a wretched feeling that made bile rise up his throat, just by seeing you express your distress to him, he could barely imagine how you felt. Yeah, he couldn't imagine. So he took matters into his own hands.

"Does the sight please you, love?" Zandik purred into your ear, his hands resting upon your shoulders as he situated himself behind you, his chest against your back. You shuddered at his warm breath fanning over your cold skin, goosebumps forming on your forearms as you both marveled and dreaded what he had beheld for you.

It was your professor, the one that had been harassing you for over the months you've started taking his classes. The one you hated so much that you wished death upon him. And now he was in front of you, blindfolded, strapped on an operating table, trying to squirm free and making muffled, pleading noises against the gag he bit on. Just by Zandik's tone of voice, you could tell that he had a dark smirk gracing his lips as his scarred hands slowly slid down from your shoulders to your elbows. You couldn't stop the twitch of your lips as your heartbeat quickened. "How rash of you, the Akademiya will look for him and the fault will be pinned on you." Your eyes narrowed at him as the two of you took synchronized steps toward your professor's trembling body.

"You dare deny the exhilaration pumping through your veins at this moment all because of the mere thought of suspicion?" Zandik's lips attached themselves to the reddening skin of your neck, his sharp teeth grazing lightly. "I'm rather endeared at your thoughtfulness, but I could care less if the Akademiya were to expel me. Plus, this is for science! Don't you just love exploring more of human anatomy?" His words were coated with a thick layer of honey, sweetly rolling off his tongue while his hands slid down further until they reached your hands. Something metallic was slipped into your hand and wrapped your fingers around it tenderly, and you let out an airy laugh when you realized it was your scalpel.

Finally, you let a grin break through your blank face, and the grip of your hand on the scalpel tightened when Zandik joyously pressed another kiss on your cheek, sharing your excitement. "What am I going to do with you?" You teased, pressing your back more against his warm chest as his arms slowly snaked around your waist. "I feel so adored."

"Good," Zandik grinned and nodded at that, evidently pleased with himself. With one last fond look at your equally crazed expression, eyeing the strapped professor as if it was prey that you were about to devour. Zandik felt the hairs on his nape stand and his cheeks buzz. "Now, shall we get started with our new experiment, lovely?"

Dear/Dearest - Actually really sweet. It caught me off guard, especially because he first called me dear/dearest when it was one of his rare moments of vulnerability. Another 10/10 pet name ♡

Papers were strewn all across the floor. Shattered glass, many miscellaneous substances, broken mirrors, droplets of blood, chips of wood from destroyed shelves, tables, and a familiar mask now broken, joined the huge mess that is his personal office. It had always been a mess inside his office, but it was organized. It held a system that only Dottore knew how to maneuver around, it was his own personal space after all. But what you are witnessing at the moment was utter chaos. His white coat, forgotten on the floor, was slowly dissolving from one of the many vials he had thrown onto the ground.

His hands continuously dripped a copious amount of blood, his hair now a big mess from the tugging and pulling, and his shoulders rose and fell. You could hear his breathing; it was frantic, short, and shaky. It was as if he was trying to catch his breath after running a marathon. But Dottore can't get tired anymore, he was way past that point, yet here he was, panting like a crazed dog deprived of water.

And while he wreaked havoc inside his personal office, screaming profanities to no one in particular, hurting himself by punching a mirror and breaking multiple objects, you stood at his doorway. With a medicine kit prepared in your arms, you watched motionlessly as Dottore continued to vent out whatever he was feeling by destroying anything in his sight. Every time his blood splattered close to your feet as he shouted until his throat began to hurt, you would harden your expression, the grip you had on the door frame forming cracks, almost breaking it. As much you wanted to help Dottore, to calm him down, to kiss away those foul, dark thoughts haunting his mind, you couldn't. You tried once, and he almost broke you as well.

So you waited. You waited and waited until he was tired. Until he's exhausted himself. At the first signs of his knees buckling, you immediately rushed inside his room to catch him, not letting him fall to the ground and further injure himself. Laying his head onto your lap as comfortably as you possibly could, you began examining and cleaning his bloodied hands, taking out the shards of glass that sank in his flesh. His hazy, bright red eyes, staring up at the ceiling, slowly cleared when his gaze fell onto your focused face. Too preoccupied to notice his eyes on you, you dabbed alcohol onto his wounds and applied bandages to the wounds he accumulated. It was only when you took a glance at Dottore's face that you noticed his burning stare, but it didn't phase you one bit.

Bringing his hands close to your face, you pressed each band-aid in a soft kiss, all filled with love as it trailed all the way down to his wrists, lingering at the spot where you could feel his pulse. The Doctor was still human after all, and while you have no idea what goes through his head or the sorts of demons he fights against, he wasn't alone. You were there to give him comfort after each battle he's fought, to bring him a sense of victory no matter how battered he was afterward, to kiss away every last bit of his anger, frustration, and madness that made him who he was today, reduced to a man you had known as Zandik. And Dottore knows this, deep inside his heart that was once dead, now beating solely for you.

It was quiet. Below a whisper. Hoarse. A rasp of his voice that he had abused from all his screaming and shouting. It was something you weren't meant to hear. But you did. Loud and clear.

"Thank you, dearest."

Darling - Cute! I absolutely love this one. Also because of the memory of when he first used it on me (he was jealous... of himself). 10/10 again ♡ !

Dottore always has you for himself. It only makes sense, after all, he's the original. He hogs all your attention as you are his trusted assistant, the second opinion on all his research, and his lover, so the majority of his segments are extremely deprived of you. It wasn't a major issue, they are aware that they are just segments, but since Dottore's segments were just him in a sense, he couldn't simply erase their affection toward you. And it just happened that you were very giving with your love, whether it was Dottore himself or any of his segments.

There are times when you would seek out a segment whenever they aren't busy, and they would be absolutely elated. They'd let you hold them to your heart's content, pressing kisses on their faces and then consulting with them about your research or helping them to the task Dottore has assigned them. You do try to give each segment a fraction of your love that you mostly pour onto Dottore but your actions will always hold consequences. And those consequences are the segments getting a bit too distracted to focus on their work and becoming too greedy.

So imagine the overwhelming irritation Dottore felt when he saw a small group of his segments surrounding your rather amused form, suppressing a small smirk forming on your lips as you watched them bicker and argue all for your attention. Oh, you were soaking this up. Dottore once acted like this, back when you were both younger, so it was so refreshing and entertaining to see multiple versions of him act in such ways. But your enjoyment was shortlived when Dottore suddenly grabbed you by the waist and snatched you away from the greedy segments, a scowl prominent on his face.

Panicked, you were about to calm him down just in case he makes a move to rip apart the segments gathered around you but you were caught off guard when Dottore smashed his lips against yours instead, kissing you oh-so passionately. It was a type of kiss that made your knees weak, his hands gripping your waist as he forcibly tugged you close to him, bodies pressed against each other. You couldn't hold back the small whimper that escaped you when Dottore bit down on your bottom lip as his hands slid inside your shirt and pressed his fingers hard on your hips. Dottore eyed the segments that watched with envious eyes, but stayed put, not able to do anything against it. Snaking your arms around his neck, you gasped for air once he pulled away, whining about your aching lips and the blood that dribbled down your chin but he paid no mind to it, merely smirking to himself, pleased with his work.

Cupping your reddening cheeks, he finally spoke; "No one else but I could kiss you like that. Only I could touch you like this, nor love you as much as I do, darling." While he hadn't outright said it, the message was clear to the segments present as they all held disappointed expressions. You, on the other hand, realized that you've probably played a bit too long away from him, so he had to find you around his big laboratory to get you back all for himself. With an amused huff, you shook your head at the death glares that he was giving the poor love-deprived segments and grabbed his chin, turning his head back towards you.

"You're not finished with me, aren't you?" You raised a challenging brow, "Go on, continue."

Dottore's smirk grew. "Of course, darling."

Pet - Where the hell did this come from? Kinda cute but I wouldn't appreciate it if he were to call me that in front of other Harbingers (especially Pantalone... It was already embarrassing enough the first time). A solid 7/10 pet name ♡

You were his assistant for a reason. He's had plenty before, but they'd only end up dead or running for their lives. You were the only one who could handle Dottore; the Fatui's secret weapon whenever he started acting up, they needed you to get him to settle down, reminding him that if you were to piss off the Fatui, you're gonna lose all the funding they have for your research. But it didn't mean you had full control of him, you're his lover after all. While he wasn't an outright tease or a romantic, there are times when he was. And sometimes, they'd take you by surprise.

As his little assistant, you always make great work of his demands. You deliver amazing results and only rarely anger Dottore. Additionally, you've made a habit of suggesting and correcting him in some cases, and if it were someone else to do so, they would've been dead on the spot. But no, Dottore actually listens and considers your opinions. He would never turn deaf to your words if it was you. Just like this moment. Pantalone had visited the Doctor to confide about finances he provides to Dottore's 'silly little projects' (you had to hold back a snort at that) and in the middle of their negotiations, you piped up in their conversation, offering your side of view, seeing that they were both slowly getting heated.

The rest of the conversation flowed more smoothly after you joined in. Pantalone has fully calmed down and was thanking you for making him a cup of tea. As you poured a cup for Dottore, Pantalone suddenly said; "It's always more pleasant visiting here when they're around, no? You should be more like your lover, Doctor."

Dottore, who ignored his Pantalone now that he mentioned you, merely smirked and laced his fingers together. "Of course, such a good pet, aren't they?"

A rush of multiple emotions washed over your body in an instant. Bewilderment, embarrassment, and then rage. Your face was completely red as you refused to turn your head to look at the guest that was still inside his office. Gripping the kettle in your hands so hard it almost breaks, you ignore the Regrator who was now chuckling at your amusing reaction. "Well, this pet will throw this steaming hot kettle on his face if he dares to call me that again in front of another person." You say through gritted teeth, trying to maintain the bright smile on your face.

"Well, then this pet should know—" Before he could utter another word, the sound of glass shattering reverberated through his office whilst Pantalone walked out with a big smile on his face.

Love of my life - Can this be considered a pet name? Oh well, I'm adding it anyways. It was very... soft of Dottore, so I'm storing this memory in my head forever. Literally a 100/10 pet name ♡

Due to the enhancements that both of you have made to each other, the two of you no longer required sleep. Much to Dottore's dismay, you still sleep 8 hours on most nights, stating that it still helps you stay refreshed and sane after not sleeping for too long. So it was very rare for Dottore to lay on the bed with you in your shared (more like yours) private chambers. You were used to it, for the most part. Sometimes, Dottore would escort you to your private chambers, chatting before you pass out once your head landed on your pillow, or carry you there if you'd fallen asleep somewhere else.

Tonight was different.

Shed from his multiple layers of clothing and slipping into his rarely used robes, you incredulously stare at him strip right in front of you. You honestly don't remember the last time you saw so much of his skin that you were suddenly hit by the massive urge to lunge at him and let your cold hands roam all over his body, but you held back when Dottore gave you a pointed glare, knowing exactly what was going through his mind. "Be patient," He grumbles, finally slipping into his silk robes and finally walking to his side of the bed. Tucking himself right beside you, you immediately latched onto his body, burying your face onto his chest and pressing your body against his as close as possible, it was as if you were trying to merge yourself into him with how tight you were hugging him.

But he supposed he couldn't blame you. After all, he doesn't even remember when was the last time the two of you cuddled in each other's arms on a bed. The memory he could only recall was back when you both still went to the Akademiya, which was so many years ago. Plus, it has truly been a while since he felt himself so loosen up, practically melting in your loving embrace. He felt extremely light as if he was laying on clouds instead. He knew what he was exactly feeling; safe, relaxed, happy, and content. Content with you, only ever with you. Because you make him whole, feel emotions he never would've thought he'd ever feel, do things that didn't have relevance over his ambitions, and many more.

You've always reacted so surprised whenever he does something that was a little bit out of his usual character. So when he caressed your head, pulling you impossibly closer, enough that he could smell the faint remnants of your perfume, he felt you jolt from the suddenness, then eased back against him, he thought that perhaps he hasn't done enough as your lover. That the reason why you act so surprised and genuinely don't expect such acts was that he was lacking. You loved him with all your heart, he could see it, feel it. Everyone can. From the way, you'd always make an effort to clean up his messy lab, from your impeccable patience towards him, the amount of dedication you put into your work with him, and the affection you shower on him on a daily basis. Compared to you, it was as if you were simply dating a statue. Zandik did a better job of loving you.

But Zandik was dead, and there was only Dottore. You still loved him, nevertheless. Still chose him over the myriad of better options in Teyvat. The familiar fuzziness took over his whole body, where at first he felt disgusted at, now he welcomed it wholeheartedly. It was pleasant, he will never admit aloud. So when you asked why he chose to sleep with you tonight (and possibly more nights in the future), his response truly came from the deepest depths of his heart, with only the purest form of genuine love and devotion he could only offer to you.

"I just want to be with the love of my life."

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[linafinsterwald192]

This Soyuz-Apollo romance has me in shambles. SHAMBLES. It all starts with Sergei challenging Margo with the whole "No, that's not astronaut 3 and 4, that is cosmonaut 1 and 2." and "I suggest Soyuz-Apollo. For convenience." and "Soyuz will be the active part." He's such a cunt with it but he is also right. He needs to be doing this because otherwise, the Russian involvement in it will always just be an accessory. An afterthought. Also frankly I think it was funny for him to be a little shit. I hope it was funny to Sergei too.

Margo had absolutely no say in falling for him. But I also think that she puts an incredible amount of love into the people around her. Purposefully. She let Wernher close to her, and made herself vulnerable by asking how much he knew, and I think she was trying to find something that negates all the harm Wernher has done. Something that excuses his actions even a little bit. One can see how much she cares about basically everyone who is up in space at any point. She is so hopeful and scared when things go wrong. She made herself incredibly vulnerable with Aleida. She met up with her several times, knowing she needed it. Needed Margo as a parental figure in her life. She asked her to join NASA, knowing it was a risk, knowing that Aleida might slam the door into her face and hope it breaks her nose. Knowing Aleida might fuck it up big time and ruin Margo's reputation as she vouched for her. And Margo kept at it, until Aleida could stand on her own two feet. Despite how often she got hurt, she always keeps loving. Despite the constant paranoia and hatred towards Russia/Russians from the people around her, Margo and Sergei bantered over Apollo-Soyuz vs Soyuz-Apollo after Margo invited him to one of the places she never shows someone else. One of the sides she hides from everyone around her because that's HER space. it's her. Despite the revelations about Wernher, she trusts that Sergei won't be like him, even though it could very well be plausible for Sergei to have dark secrets as well.

She is so silly when she is with Sergei at first. She allows herself to just relax and be silly when she has to constantly be so fucking serious. The little paper ships docking. Them being stuck in the handshake tube thing. Margo never lets people get physically close to her like this. She isn't uncomfy. She is very comfy in there, despite being stuck and being super close to Sergei, despite Sergei clearly finding this amazing and hilarious, and MISSING THE COIN FLIP- Margo pushes him away because she has to. She doesn't want to push him away. She is MAD when he talks about work after they made out. Margo "I am always professional and this is not a place for feelings" Madison is livid this is interfering with literally anything - and livid that anyone would threaten Sergei like this.

She cares about him so much. She promises to keep him AND his family safe and it's clear she will do everything to achieve it. She doesn't shove him away going "this is fucking dangerous and I'm not risking everything I am and have for you". She goes "I'll get you and your family out of here." She KNOWS this might be the worst heartbreak she will ever go through. She KNOWS she might end up being tortured or killed or being seen as a traitor, a coward, a defector - And she does it anyway. She didn't stumble into any of this. She fucking ran praying to be fast enough.

That scene of her screaming into the pillow? fucking gold star. What I love so fucking much about this romance is that it's not a "it's too dnagerous to love me" shtick. it's "well FUCK. well FUCK. i love you and i can't do anything about it. so what do we do? how do we keep everyone safe, and be together? and be together.

It hurt her so much to constantly dismiss Aleida's efforts of finding out who gave away the engine design. And it scared her because she knows Aleida doesn't give up. And that is such a good thing.

Margo for sure wanted to run away with Sergei. But she couldn't promise him anything. And then, she didn't get to. She never got to say "I'll run with you." she never got to say "I love you." But everything she did conveyed just that. Everything she did was such a pure form of admiration, dedication, love, vulnerability, fear-

She was READY to rip Irina into pieces. She was. all she could say was "You knew him for years!" She couldn't SAY "I loved him and you know that." She couldn't SAY "he was always in a good mood, always happy, always loving, always caring, he was the best of the best, he was selfless and gorgeous and amazing" - she could only appeal to Sergei's supposed loyalty to the Russians. That was all the leverage she had. I WISH we knew what Irina thought in this moment. How much she knew. If she knew after Margo crying CRYING in a full room of silent people, in front of IRINA, maybe being aware that this might reveal her love for Sergei- And it hurt her so much that Aleida got pulled into this. Aleida was right, it had to be her typing the code. And it broke Margo that there was nothing she could do against it. Only for her to take the blame. Irina was in that room. Eli was there. Aleida was there.

Margo knew Sergei would be SO PROUD and SO PISSED if he had the chance of learning about this. Margo was stripped of the last tidbits of her honor, she was stripped of her diplomatic immunity - for all she knows, she could be kidnapped by the KGB and tortured for however long her body holds up. Especially if Irina pieced it together somewhere along the way. And she still went for it. And she let Aleida hug her in front of everyone because she knew that this was more important than the shit Aleida could catch for it. AND AFTER THIS. AFTER HER FEELINGS HAVE BROUGHT HER SO MUCH FUCKING PAIN AND MISERY, AFTER SERGEI ESSENTIALLY GOT KILLED FOR HAVING FEELINGS AND BEING IN LOVE, she says that feelings are a good thing. "Your honor, I was always told we shouldn't let personal feelings cloud our search for the truth. I don't think that's right. Feelings might not always be convenient," WELL . YOUR FEELINGS CERTAINLY WERE NEVER CONVENIENT- GOD- FUCK- THIS WOMAN. "they may even slow our progress, but they are also the only way to truly begin to understand the world around us. And the new worlds that await us." She EMBRACES it all. She might be in American prison from the sounds of it but this absolute powerhouse is looking forward to new worlds. She embraces that she felt all these feeings. She once thought she was like WERNHER VON BRAUN because of things she did. LIKE WERNHER VON FUCKING BRAUN- and now she is like "I did that." Also frankly I think she feels a little proud of herself when she gets escorted out of the mission control room. She does look a little smug, right? So anyway I will be reading all Margo Sergei fics I can find and post a thousand posts about them and I think Apollo-Soyuz should be a synonym for top Margo bottom Sergei and the other way around and I will now continue to scream into the void. thank you for your understanding. thank you for coming by on such notice.

[fl3sh34t3r]

"Hmm...oh? Taking a small visit to my blog hm? Heh, well...I don't mind"

"Don't be scared, dear. Come on in, I assure you I don't bite...hmm...hehehah..."

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

-*Welcome to

Enidan's Blog!*-

Introduction post!

(PLEASE READ BEFORE CONTINUING)

Hello!! Welcome to Enidan's blog, aka my regretevator oc's blog :D!

Before you do any asks, comments, etc, please read this post first!

Eeekdbdkd- first of all, the creator of this blog is @button-cat ! Hello :D

And second- please know that im a minor!! (Between the age of 13-17!) I do not mind some suggestive asks (NOT TO ME- to my oc-) however i am not comfortable with nsfw asks!! So please do not make Nsfw asks or i will ignore your ask!! D:

Enidan's pronouns are She/It/They, and my pronouns are She/they!! :b

I'll be trying to respond asks with drawings however i won't respond to all with drawings !! :b drawing can be complicated and tiring when doing it too much and i do not want to overwork myself !! ^^

Also,,,,Enidan is,,,not the most kindest one- (she literally eATS PEOPLE) so- if she responds uh- rudely to your ask, DONT TAKE IT PERSONALLY- its all roleplay and funsies ;D

Now more about my oc Enidan- im not gonna say much about their lore (i want people to figure it out by doing asks and interacting with it's lore :3) however the most i could say is that,,,they eat people- it killed like,,,a ton of people. And- going to more regretevator related, she will appear on a floor (that i invented) called "Hide and seek"- ...you play hide and seek with her :D they're always the seeker,,,and you gotta survive for like,,,2 minutes- if someone manages to survive, she will enter the elevator- if no one survives, she doesn't ! (also- if u get caught by it, she uh,,,eats you. yeah :3)

Also- this IS something important that i have to mention about them- in her lore, she's Folly's assistant. Im mentioning this in case if any rp blogs (ESPECIALLY FOLLY RP BLOGS-) wanting to interact- i can't really change that part out of their lore because,,,its a important part of it- just by removing folly out of their lore and trying to change it- in most cases,,,she's dead :3 or if i do somehow manage to have her alive- everything about it changes (Design, lore, personality- EVERYTHING,,,AND BIG CHANGES AS WELL-) and- i may just be creating a whole new character by doing that- this is basically a hint to her lore already so yeah,,,:3

Btw- I really love roleplaying !! So don't be shy if u want to roleplay characters whether it be characters from regretevator, another game/show/etc, or your own :D

magical anons are allowed as well!!

Also- warning!!! There will be probably mentions of gore,,,and gore rps even!! There may be some slightly disturbing drawings as well- (aka- bones,,,maybe a decapitated head- not in a super disturbing way just,,,decapitated-) i'll probably not do too many disturbing drawings and i'll definitely avoid drawing gory drawings but its a heads up!! I do not want to make people uncomfy or scared or anything-

For the most part, i made this for fun!! ^^ i do not expect to get many asks but i still wanted to make this introduction post !!

I believe that's all :D if there's anything that i feel like is missing- i'll edit this post!!

For now, enjoy your stay :3

[suraemoon]

A Starry Night in 1956

Link to Part 1: A Sunset in 1956

It isn’t necessary to read Part 1 to understand this fic but hey it doesn’t hurt. ^^^

Warnings: p in v smut, virginity loss, oral sex (f receiving), angst, argument, reader has a panic attack in a crowd, descriptions on uncomfy clothes, some objectification of the body?, edging, unfulfilled wishes of finishing inside a woman, teeny bit of masturbation, any more pls let me know

WC: 13k (please bear with me lol about 5k of it is smut)

A/N: The story takes place in Florida in August of 1956. But unlike Elvis’ real life Florida shows during this time, instead of a theatre I’m imagining an amphitheater, park type of venue, like a music festival? if that makes sense. This is my first time writing smut, go easy on me. My inbox is always open for requests if for some reason you trust me with your ideas. Ahhh enjoy.

The starry night’s humid Floridian air was the cozy homestead of not only the expected water vapor but altogether meaningless, patient chatter. The laughs and small talk of people all with a common goal and interest: to see the Elvis Presley perform before them. The Elvis Presley so nationally loved by friends and schoolmates. The Elvis Presley so naturally hated by parents and guardians.

A passionate performance ranted and raved about, a controversial performance complained about and loathed, fit altogether in such a delicious little package for anyone so free in their judgment and beautiful rebellious lovers who have gotten their hands on the wave of Rock n’ Roll. The bow of this gift was a handsome man at its forefront. The poster boy of it all.

You’ve had the privilege of getting to know and love Elvis ever since you were sat at desks right next to each in elementary, in the days when the world was blissfully unaware that the foreman of a cultural movement was in school learning times tables. Seats that would eventually get moved due to disruptive chatter and giggles from the two of you, but the bond built that day could never let up or separate. Now you get to share the gift that is your best friend with the world, for better and for worse.

The year is 1956. Elvis and his band are touring and performing for adoring audiences all around the country and of course he had to take you, his “bestest girl”, with him to every single stop on the road.

You remember the now-fond, then-scary day when in the comfort of your childhood bedroom of your baby blue family home in Memphis that Elvis first proposed the idea that you come with him across the country.

——————— A few months ago ————————

It was a little while after you and Elvis had come up from dinner. After putting your dishes in the sink and thanking your mother again for the meal she prepared, the two of you quickly but politely and calmly made it a mission to get back up the stairs and into your bedroom like you had done so many instances before. It started when you were little, yawning and waiting patiently to get dismissed from the dinner table to get back to playing, sometimes getting yelled at for trying to race each other up the stairs to see who can get to the top first. Now that the two of you are young adults, you are obliviously unaware at how the urgency to get to your bedroom might look to any bystander. The bystanders being your confused, furrowed brow parents.

It was a vulnerable sunset, the orange hue of golden hour pouring into your window as the only new thing allowed to enter your frilly, pink bedroom. A bedroom whose decor hasn’t changed for years.

The two of you had planned to go page by page through your copy of the high school yearbook from your graduating year, reminiscing together on past experiences and gossiping about where everyone is now. You can clearly recall the moment when you finally were able to wriggle the yearbook from your full well-loved bookshelf, dusting it off and holding it in your hands while Elvis whispered from his spot on the pink, stuffed-animal filled bed behind you his plans about going away to do performances and his hope that you will accompany him. You dropped not only the book you were holding onto the cold hardwood floor but also the smile decorating your face as you turned around to face him.

“What’d you just say, Presley?”

You knew exactly what he muttered. He whispered loud enough to know you could hear him. You were both aware of these quiet facts. Quickly, you scurried over to your bedroom door to grab the doorknob and close it, an action that your parents did not allow when Elvis was over, but at this moment the pure necessity made you not care at all.

His voice was louder and shakier now, his accent getting thicker as he hurriedly tried to explain and convince you all in a few seconds. It was as if the last train was about to leave the station and he's trying his hardest to get you on board. His leg bounces against the bottom of your wooden bed frame.

“I know, I know. It sou-sounds crazy b-bu-but Mama is worried sick about me going and I know she’ll feel better if you’re there with me. I’ll feel better if you’re there with me. You just gotta, you gotta come with me, Satnin. You don’t know how much I need ya, honey. I really do. Never needed ya more than I do now.”

You force words to come out of your mouth in response to this confession of his. He’s never needed you more.

“E-Elvis I can’t just up and leave. What about…”

The tone of his voice has done a 180 and is now trying the best it can to portray calm and certain. The falsehood that everything has been figured out, the hope that everything will be okay. The need that everything will be okay. It’s apparent to him that you need assurance in this moment but his words are not only spoken to you; they are a message of comfort to himself, a plea to the Lord that what he has taught himself to think is actually the plan, that what he has grown to believe is indeed the truth.

“We graduated a while ago. We’re grown now. Ain’t nothing stopping us but ourselves. That’s what I had to tell myself. The only one that’s stopping you is yourself. It’s all doubt.”

You start to pace around the room, your feet going from the softness of your small carpet to the stable hardwood. Every thought and uncertainty is filling your mind at rapid speed and they’re pushing to spill out of your mouth restlessly as if your brain can’t seem to keep them all contained in one spot.

When you regain the ability to form sentences you stop in your tracks to look at him, your racing thoughts are even faster as words.

“I’ve got a family too, Elvis. A loving one just like you do and your mama wouldn’t be the only mama worried. My mother would be more than worried and I can’t imagine leaving her and no way my daddy would just let me roam the country either. You know him, you know how he is.”

“Honey…”

It’s like you don’t even hear him, your brain doesn’t have the space to process that he spoke, “What about all I’ve got here, Elvis? My job at the diner? I told ya that promotion is coming soon. Oh God, I know it is, I’ve been working for a while. I can’t just quit and lose all that progress I made! Brother done moved out to live his life and my parents are gonna be here all alone without me.”

Your feet stop their parading right in front of him, both of your hands on the side of your face like they’re the only thing keeping your head on. Your eyebrows furrow in wonder of why he isn’t trying to combat your words, confused on the fact that he doesn’t seem as concerned as you are.

Elvis decides to gently take both of your shaky hands into his, leading you to sit down on the bed next to him. Your poodle skirt lifts a little in the back just for the top fabric to pool around you and settle back down on the comforter, the breath you take in lifts and settles just the same.

He consoles in almost a whisper, “You don’t gotta worry about all that. It’ll all be alright. We’ll be together.”

“I know we will but….” His thumbs start moving back and forth in a soothing motion, cutting you off.

His voice picks up more, “Please? Come with me? All we’ve been through together, we can’t lose that now. I’m s-so scared of losing that, of losing you. I need to take a piece of home with me. Something to keep me stable, to keep me going. You always do. Every new place I go, I’ll have my Memphis with me.”

He gestures exasperated to you, his Memphis.

You take a long sigh, have all of your years of friendship culminated to this moment? The only movement in the bedroom besides the rise and fall of breath is his steady thumb on the back of your soft hand.

There is a few minutes of uneasy silence before you speak up looking not at him but instead at the glow of the shaded lamp on your nightstand. “How long will we be traveling again? I need to know how much to pack.”

“Well. New dates and venues keep being added and uh—Wait a minute....That means you're coming?” He glances at you, eyes sparkling full of hope.

You stare back at him with a smile, hope matching hope. A soft laugh almost makes your words a melody, “That’s what it means.”

“Oh, Memphis!” Elvis quickly traps you into a big, bear hug as if all of his pent up emotions have been waiting to be released. He’s squeezing you like his life depends on it, his arms around you to hold and keep you close. You giggle at this sudden action as excitement fills the air and fear clouds your mind. But, it’s a good kind of fear. It’s an anticipation that cannot be tamed.

————————————————————————

That day was a while ago. The Colonel has taken Elvis and his band (you and the Memphis Mafia buddies that have tagged along, he has taken begrudgingly) around different parts of the USA. You’ve gone to venue after venue, drove mile after mile, and it was far from done. Tour life has its ups and downs for everybody and it’s proven that the lifestyle is not for the weak of spirit. You have experienced exhilarating parties and contagious laughter that made it so you never wanted the sun to set and the nights to end.

There have also been days that the homesickness stays sitting in your belly, tears threatening to fill your eyes if you thought too hard about Memphis or stared too long at the family picture you kept safe and secure in your bag. An emotional rollercoaster when you come across it while quickly taking something out.

Many had come out for this night’s concert, one of many that Elvis would perform in the sunshine state of Florida. You watch observantly as the crowd around you waited in the open-aired park venue with waiting breath and time-passing fidgets.

It managed to cool down significantly from the heat that coated the early hours of the afternoon, to which everyone was thankful because it hopefully meant less fainting from screaming girls. The fanatic women didn’t have to worry about the sun beaming down to work against them, only Elvis’ attractiveness filling their soul, making them swooningly dazed. Pure anticipation kept the atmosphere thick where the temperature had let up.

You were full of anxiety as you stood alone in the middle of the crowd. You shifted from foot to foot, hand tugging on the edge of your tight black pencil skirt. It hugged your lower half like a glove would and had to be at least a few inches shorter than what was seen as decent. You know that your daddy would have a fit if he saw you dressed like this.

These recent stops have been hardest on your heart, hardest on your mind. It has been too long since you’ve touched your mama’s face, too long since you’ve heard your daddy’s belly laugh. Too damn long since you’ve seen the familiar, calming blue paint of your Memphis home. The same home you were brought home from the hospital to, the same home you left to go on tour.

We’ll be together.

His words have seemed to do nothing but haunt you lately. You’re together all the time, that’s true, but you only seem to be wholefully acknowledged when he remembers you exist. Nowadays, the only long conversations you have are when he needs someone to vent his emotions to and happens to recall that the girl he drags along with him is not only a pretty thing to look at but is also his best friend. You don’t even know if the best friend part still holds up anymore but it hurts too much to even imagine that being the case. If you think too hard about it, you would no doubt throw up right on the lady next to you’s shiny heels.

You play with the strap of your blouse, is it tighter than when you put it on? Is that possible? Well it had to be, no other explanation. You’ve never felt so uncomfortable in a top.

We’ll be together.

He’s together with girls that aren’t you. You shouldn’t be mad about it. You can’t get angry at it, you aren’t his girlfriend. He has no reason to commit to you but now your life is centered all around him. You can’t help the jealousy that fills your mind like a bitter perfume whenever you see him flirt or kiss a random girl. Several beautiful girls crowd around him at each stop, eager to get their hands on Elvis Presley. You sigh knowing that you could never hold a candle to them. If your light shined as bright as there's, why weren’t you his? You give polite, tight-lipped smiles when asked to hold the camera and snap fan photos. You stand there awkwardly shifting back and forth on your feet, playing with your hands in the moments succeeding when he starts smooching all over them with that signature Elvis-style charm after the flash leaves and the picture is snapped. Who knew that there were so many model-worthy women just sitting in Suburban towns waiting to have their lips kissed and boobs grazed by Elvis Presley?

Some nights you find yourself alone under the stars and locked out of your and Elvis’ shared motel room, the only place that you know can be yours in such an uncertain existence. In your place is a gorgeous woman from the party the Memphis Mafia insisted that you all go to after an already long night.

Well, you technically can’t say the lucky woman is “in your place” because the activities occurring on the other side of that lovely door are things you can only dream about Elvis doing to you. There have been many nights where you’ve thought about sneaking in the bed next to yours to feel him in a way you’ve never had. Even if it’s just for sleep.

The reason you two even share motel rooms in the first place is Elvis’ desire to keep you safe and in his line of vision. Away from the access of creepy men roaming around these unfamiliar cities and even some of his Memphis Mafia friend group who think it’s fun to hit on you sometimes. He keeps you close but not too close. You’re stuck in a limbo of not knowing where you stand with a man you’ve grown to know so well. You know with every ounce of your heart that Elvis cares about you, there is no doubt about that, but you don’t know how he feels about you. It leaves you feeling dumb and knowledgeable. Disoriented and understanding.

Little does he know that sometimes you do get tortured sometimes, by no one but him. A mind game he doesn’t even know he’s playing. It leaves you broken, what’s the point?

In the crowd, your hands shake with nerves as if you are the one about to perform. The expensive gold and diamond bracelet Elvis bought in New York and presented to you under the old oak tree in your backyard makes a clanging sound as it moves with your motion. It seems tighter than it was when you put it on earlier. To take your mind off of both boredom and anxiety, you use all of your concentration to unhook the tiny gold clip and you make it looser a few notches. The bracelet had looked so out of place the night he gave it to you; the shine of the metal contrasted with the pastel fabric over your skirt. Though you are sure that the little diamonds throughout the chain shined brighter that night when you were sitting next to Elvis, maybe the light from the sun, maybe the light he radiated.

The jewelry went perfectly with your look tonight. Elvis has been picking out your outfits lately. They have gotten so mature, so grown up, so sexy.

———————— A few hours ago ————————

Elvis’ jaw dropped when you stepped out of the small bathroom looking like the epitome of a Hollywood bombshell in the outfit he had bought for you. He ignored the urge to pat himself on the back with how it all came out. “Wow, honey. You’re tryna kill me, huh? Do a spin, you have ta.”

It’s a tight blouse, a lower cut than you would even think about picking up from the rack but he was glad that could convince you to put it on. Your chest is lifted and displayed perfectly among the bright, satin blue fabric.

He’s used to your lower half being covered beneath the layers of poodle skirts or swing dresses but the tightness of the black skirt was practically nude compared to your usual style.

Some of your body is left to the imagination, how he likes it, but seeing the true outline and curves of your figure was like getting a glimpse of heaven.

You giggled and did as much of a spin as the tight fabric of your skirt and your heels allowed you. “Do you really like it?”

He looked at you, shocked that that’s even a question. “Are you kidding? Like isn’t strong enough of a word. Imma have to beat fellas away with a stick.”

“You’re gonna get jealous? Maybe I should use all my flirting skills tonight. I might meet a nice Floridian boy, you never know.”

“No such thing as one. You should go look at yourself in the mirror though. Might make your head a little bigger but it would be a shame if you didn’t see yourself.”

Your jaw was the next to drop when you got a good look at your full outfit in the mirror. No way the woman staring back in the reflection was you. It had to be someone else.

“Seeing what I’m seeing now, honey?”

You made sure to do every step of the process how Elvis liked it. You had taken his suggestions on how to do your hair and not one strand was out of place. The dark makeup was his idea as well, you’d usually never apply this much. The outfit topped the whole thing off.

“Oh thank you, Elvis! You’ve got a good eye for these types of things, you really do. You’re the bestest. Should pick out my whole wardrobe, that’s how much I like it. It’s beautiful.”

He replied simply but perfectly, making your knees weak as he did it, “You’re beautiful.”

Your eyes tried to meet Elvis’ baby blues in the mirror but couldn’t quite catch them because he was too busy staring at other things. You watched him scan you up and down with those famous bedroom eyes, lidded as in a trance, and you were sure that you could pass out right there. He’s never looked at you with such fever in his eyes before and oh how much you enjoy it now that you’ve had a taste of it. You aren’t sure if you should kiss him or slap him as he lustfully and not so subtly stares at your legs, your hips, your waist, your boobs. His eyes only leave the mirror to look at your backside, not visible in the glass.

Little did you know, you were the manifestation of everything he had worked towards, a physical representation of how far he’s come. His childhood best friend dressed like a leading woman on the big screen…because of him.

At that moment he remembered, a thought provoked by a thought, an incident years back when the two of you were playing and running around the plush grass of your backyard, the blue paint of the house was brighter back then and the birds chirped a little louder. The wooden swing was still intact with both ropes on the tree, aging this story correctly, and your favorite activity in those days was to swing and jump off. One day, Elvis was sitting on the ground watching you demonstrate the skill that was jumping off the swing and the precision it took to get it right. When you leaped, he watched as your skirt went up in the air to act as a parachute, giving him a view of the white cotton panties you wore under your skirt. His eyes widened and his cheeks flushed pink. Years later he can look back and laugh at how innocent and curious he was.

You got up, grass stains on your knees from the jump, and was quick to sit next to him, “Elvis?” You stop trying to catch your breath. “Wasn’t that amazing! I’ve been practicing and yours might not be as good as mine yet cause you are just starting. You gotta time the jump just right..”

You rambled on and on not yet noticing that your friend hadn’t responded yet when suddenly you stopped, noticing his red cheeks. “Elvis? Is everything alright? You’re looking a little pink.” You poked each of his apple-red cheeks with your finger and giggled.

That was the first time Elvis saw you, or anyone for that matter, in such a way. There was a weird pang in his heart, a blush that didn’t want to tame, and a fast shaking of his head when you asked what had gotten him so flustered that he wasn’t able to speak for a whole minute. Years later, he’s the one dressing you.

He smiles to himself at the memory. You saw each other grow up. Elvis started to notice you wear makeup. Your eyelashes magically got longer, little did he know at the time that this was due to mascara, something that has since become well acquainted with. The pretty pink blush that you used to only have when you were flustered and embarrassed stayed permanent on your cheeks as if normal. Over the years, he noticed how your tops started to fill out more, something he felt bad about taking glances at in those teenage years when he had the hormonal urge to stare. Well he still has those urges at 21, but that’s beside the point. Your face has matured into its features. You’ve always been pretty but have you always been this gorgeous?

He’s taken out of his own head when he feels you turn from the mirror and hug him, he uses his hand to pet your head lovingly and follow the shape of your hair.

———————— 20 minutes ago ————————

All those thoughts he had a few hours ago while getting ready in the motel room lingered in his head when you last saw each other about 20 minutes ago. He looked over at you once more backstage before sending you out to join the crowd waiting. “Go out there and enjoy the performance, honey.”

You have gotten used to being a backstage-dweller, watching from the sidelines getting a view that few others would ever have. The only downside was not being able to see all of Elvis’ pretty face while he performed but that stunning side profile was enough to keep you satisfied.

“I can’t just stay back here? No crowds…no sweat…no pushing. It’s nice”

“You think I dolled ya up for you to hide? I wanna see you while I’m performing. Spending all your time behind the scenes you can’t get the full picture. Might forget why you’re here.”

“Are you sure?”

“Don’t know why I’d say it if I wasn’t sure. Do I have a reason to lie?”

“That’s not what I asked.”

“But that’s what I answered, honey.”

You huff, “Fine.”

————————————————————————

This series of events is how you ended up in your current situation.

The cold barricade is the only spot of cool under waiting torsos as you are only two rows back from being able to count the dust of the stage. You take a glance at the curtain stage left, trying to get a glimpse at the man who sent you out here. It’s to no avail as you are just a little too far back and the curtains have no give in their ability to stay closed. Your right hand goes up to cover your chest in defense when while looking to the side you catch one unsuspecting girl’s boyfriend trying to pass the time by staring at you a little too intensely. If looks could kill, you’d have been dead a long time ago. Girls look at you with disgust as if you were planted as an opener for their boyfriends to gawk at; boyfriends who only came out to make their gals happy, their hair styled in the hope that she’ll pretend he’s Elvis later on tonight. Some didn’t care or acknowledge your existence at all which made you wonder if these “stares” were all imaginary. Just your mind trying to protect you from something not happening. No way they weren’t real, if they weren’t you wouldn’t be so itchy right now, and your breath wouldn’t be so heavy even when the humid air is giving you nothing to work with.

You felt so desirable and confident when Elvis was eyeing you at the motel, what happened? Maybe the realization that you’re attracting the wrong people. You aren’t desired by the man your heart yearns for most. All dolled up to be a woman created for you to be, a woman that you knew that if you thought hard enough, if you worked hard enough you can one day become. The shell had been made for you to fill in seamlessly and it was still uncomfy. And oh how much you wanted it.

The lights go down and rogue screams of excitement accompany it. The lights are back up in a few seconds and there he is in all his glory, Elvis Presley. He still has that radiating quality that can be seen in the dark, a boyish smirk that causes women to shriek, hair that except for a few pieces in the front would be flawless. His suit is a little oversized but still perfect. He didn’t look real and every time you see him perform you are taken back as if it’s your first time ever laying eyes on him. Like a flower, Elvis blossoms like a flower in spring while on stage. It’s where he shines the brightest. He’s the boy you’ve always known transformed into something more than just potential. It’s the best version of himself, being in your happy place will do that to a person.

You focus on fawning over the man on the platform as if he’s the only thing that matters. The only interior taking you abruptly out of this reality is a push….not a push, a shove. It’s the group of younger teenage girls behind you trying to get closer to the stage. Someone else bumps into your shoulder as you look over. You can feel people’s breaths around you, the sweat, the sticky warm air, the heat of it all mixing together. It was never roomy on the grass, but the bubbles of personal space subconsciously given in to everyone in the crowd popped in that moment and the people just started getting closer and closer.

It was like a sea of magnets attracted to one thing and you wanted to yell at yourself for picking a spot as close as you were to the stage. Your breath quickened as screams got louder and louder, more and more overwhelming. Are these girls next to perform? How are they getting up to those octaves?

A man holding his woman’s hand, trying to get his gal closer to the front, had to have not seen you in front of him as he pushed through. It was at this moment that the loosened gold bracelet sitting around your wrist flew off and landed on the grass next to you. As you reach to pick it up, tears making your vision blurry, the front of a lady’s heel steps on it, the delicate chain snapping. Your gasp was full of fear and surprise, it was as delicate and small as the bracelet. Either the shock was too pure to come out of your mouth and instead went down to your heart or the sound was drowned out by the noise surrounding you. Maybe both. You were too small to be heard.

The offender walked away quickly and nonchalantly as if the metal of your most beloved possession was as soft as grass. Frozen in place before continuing your mission, the seconds you spend bending down to pick it up from the ground felt like hours. Gasping for air as if you were underwater, your shaky hands reach for the bracelet, now split into two pieces of chain. You grab onto whatever you can, fist turning white and the journey back up was even tougher. It felt like your throat was closing up like the pressure changed from the ground to normal height. No breath you take is deep enough for an efficient amount of air. Why can’t you breath? Your nose stuffs up and your lips shake in a shiver. The stampede of hormones is well past by now, you aren’t squished, no ones touching you but at this moment everything feels too close. Everyone’s focus is on Elvis, no one is even acknowledging your existence but it's still embarrassing to feel the tears travel down your face, getting ready to stain the surface.

Not knowing what else to do, you start to hurriedly walk the opposite direction of the stage, trying to find anywhere to go that wasn’t there in the grass. The only time in your life that you are trying to escape that silky Southern voice. You give a small “sorry” here and a tiny “excuse me” there as you make your way past people too entranced by Elvis’ performance to notice that someone was talking to them. Your voice was so weak and shaky that your mind made you doubt if they could even hear you over the noise, doubt if the words came out of your mouth to begin with.

Your walking leads you away from the crowd and your journey ends next to the water fountains outside the restrooms. This mundane spot is where your tired mind decides is good enough refuge to sit, not caring one bit about what you would look like to an observer.

The far away side view of Elvis Presley giving his all on stage and the crowd of people elated below it is more beautiful from back here. Your head leans back against the brick of the wall of the small restroom building. There’s a hope that the act of laying your head back would allow you to take an actual full breath despite the soreness of your throat, a hope that laying your head back would prevent the tears in the corners of your eyes from flowing down and ruining your makeup despite the immense emotion filling your mind.

Stop crying, stop crying, stop crying. There is no reason for the tears. You didn’t die, you didn’t get hurt. But it still hurts. Nothing happened to you, why are you such a scaredy cat? An overdramatic pathetic girl, a jumpy sheep who’s crying wolf, a…

Breathe.

Your view is up and all you see is the stars. It’s a starry night in Florida, the type of starry night that would give Van Gogh the inspiration to paint a masterpiece. The stars are small dots, all could be mistaken for the others accompanying the dark blue. All except for one. One star is larger and burns brighter than the others, if you stare long enough it vibrates in the sky. It shimmers, it gleams, it gives warmth, it gives hope.

For the first time since it was laying on the ground you decide to look at your bracelet, or what was left of it. After opening your fist, besides a few pieces of grass, you see a gold chain split in half. When looking closely at the small diamonds decorating it, you notice that one of them is missing. All of a sudden your lip quivers and your eyes gloss over as if getting the same queue. You glance over at the stage, the one star that can bring you comfort doesn’t even know you are hurting, he isn’t here to protect you. All alone your vision focuses on him with all its might, his moving figure is a little blurry through watery eyes but he’s there and that’s what matters.

The performance takes 5 minutes and 5 hours at the same time. You watched the whole show, your knees up and head resting on crossed arms as the tears dry in your face. It’s when he exits the stage to roaring applause that you get up from your spot on the ground. You know from your time backstage that when Elvis walk’s off out of view from the crowd he is no longer a figure floating on adrenaline, he’s your tired, sweaty best friend who you provide with a water bottle and a hug. You need to see him, you’ve felt alone and abandoned for so long, you need Elvis.

Determinedly, you walk as fast your wobbly legs and painful heels will take you. You are able to easily get past security to get backstage because the man standing in all black guarding the entrance was able to recognize you from when Elvis sent you to the audience earlier. By the time you get to the crowd of crew and band that you’re sure Elvis is in the middle of, your calves are burning with exhaustion. Your eyes move frantically in their search and finally you see him, he has a beautiful glow making him stand out in the pack of people.

You run up as soon as you see him, almost rolling your ankle as you fall onto him, arms enclosing his body with a tight hug. “Elvis!” You thought the tears had run out a while ago but there was something about being in his embrace, feeling his warmth and presence, being filled with his scent that makes every emotion that you experienced alone rise up again inside of you. You sob into his blazer, not letting him go.

At first he’s shocked thinking that fan snuck her way backstage but he hugs regardless, immediately recognizing that it’s you. “Satnin? W-wh-what happened?”

“Oh Elvis, I can’t be out there anymore. It was so scary and there were so many people crowding and I was bout to fall and trip. A-and my clothes are too revealing, they gotta be. People kept looking at me but not the way you look at me, it was real different. I just wanted to be around ya so you could protect m-me but you were performing! I didn’t know what to do…I was all alone. I don’t wanna be alone anymore.”

He’s never seen you this vulnerable, this broken. “Did someone hurt you, baby?”

You pull away just a little to look up at him, your face is puffy and red from crying and Elvis swears you’ve never looked so small. You look so young, cheeks and big eyes reminding him of the little girl he met all those years ago, not the femme fatale prototype he saw in the mirror just a few hours ago. A broken girl in a woman’s clothing. Pure Memphis was in your eyes, reminders of simpler times.

“I was so nervous, Elvis. I just wanted to be with you.”

“Honey, I asked ya a question. No one hurt you out there right? Answer me ‘cause if some bastard put his hands on ya, I’ll kill the son of a bitch.”

“No! No one hurt me. I was just so scared…I was just so scared. And look!” You show him the fragments of what once was bravely in your hand. “I broke it, Elvis. I’m so sorry. You got it just for me and it must’ve been so expensive and it fell off my hand and broke. O-one of the things is gone and I don’t even know if I grabbed every piece of the ground. That’s why you can’t buy me stuff, Elvis, I told ya that. I’m too clumsy for nice, fancy things.”

“Shhhh…shhh, baby. We’re going back to the room. It’s all gonna be okay. Forget the damn bracelet, it don't mean anything to me. You’re alright and that’s all that matters. You’re okay now, you’re safe now.”

Elvis puts an arm around your waist and guides you through the crowd, ignoring everyone who tries to talk to him except for a few words when asks, not asks tells, one of the guys to drive the two of you home. He quickly opens the door to a car, rushing you in with him to head home.

Home being the motel. You two are miles from Memphis , the home your heart longs to see again.

The ride back to the motel is quiet. The most quiet it has ever been when the two of you are around each other. The car drives there fast but the journey home always feels shorter than the trip you took to go. That is what keeps the world spinning, if not, hope would be lost too soon.

Within what seems like the blink of an eye or the very long blink of your tiny little car nap, you arrive at the dimly lit sanctuary. Giving the driver a small “thank you”, you and Elvis get out of the car simultaneously and walk silently to the room assigned for the both of you, he opens the door to let you in first.

Immediately after walking in and locking the door, Elvis takes off his blazer, the button up he's wearing underneath now on full display, and he throws it on a chair. You walk over to the bathroom, a dim shade of yellow filling the room after you turn on the light. The reflection in the mirror was horrifying, there was a stark contrast from how amazing and put together you looked earlier. Your mascara is smudged from tears and you try your best to rub the residue off with your finger. Your cheeks can be easily compared to red apples and your lipstick is in need of a reapply. Aware of the fact that you look like a hot mess but not having the strength to do anything about it, your attention goes back to the broken bracelet that you’ve had in your tight grasp ever since it was picked up from the floor.

Elvis sits down on his bed, rubbing his eyes as if deep in thought. The silence of the room can be described as comfortable only for the fact that it differs from the loud noise of the venue.

Giving up in your attempts to put all of the pieces of the bracelet together on the counter, you sigh and turn around to head to the main bedroom. It’s when you see Elvis that you’re reminded of everything and all the emotions start to well up again.

You have to tell him. Break it to him easily. Make up your mind.

Your mind stays fast and something is on the tip of your tongue, your lips quiver and in an ill attempt to display conviction in your statement, it instead comes out in a broken, quiet, and tear stained whisper,

“I can’t do it anymore, E.”

Elvis looks up, his hands dropping from his face to fall on his knees, his voice shows true confusion at your sudden words, “What?”

“I can’t do this. I can’t, Elvis. It ain’t me.” Your hands gesture to yourself, not only the Elvis-picked outfit but all the tears and tiredness apparent as well.

He shakes his head unseriously as if this is all too ridiculous to be real, “What do you mean it ‘ain’t you’? We’re making it you. You just gotta get used to it.”

“You always say that but it ain’t working, I’m not the type of girl you want me to be. I need to go home, I just wanna go home.” This last statement comes out as almost as plea, like a little kid’s complaint when they don’t want to go to school.

“So you’re just gonna leave me? Just like that?” He decides to stand up, questions coming out of his mouth defensively. You hate hearing the tone of disappointment in his voice, it’s as if you are unjustified, unreasonable.

“I’m not leaving you…”

“You’re leaving me.”

Face to face, you look up at him, tears threatening to roll down your face again at his harsh and direct accusations. “Elvis, I’m so tired, so exhausted. I wanna be here for you, I want to be everything you want…You don’t know how bad I want that, how bad I need ya to be happy with me b-but…”

“You’re going back to Memphis? This is so outta the blue, honey. This is coming from nowhere, you’re happy and all of a sudden you wanna go home.”

“I’m sorry, Elvis. I think it’s best that I go home. There ain’t no place for me here, no purpose for me being here, no spot to fill.”

“Leaving this…”

His voice is firm in his words and his hand moves around the room as if you forget where you were and then he continues, “..is leaving me. My life is different now. You can’t just quit when it gets hard. I need your support, you don’t know how much I need you here with me. Don’t just up and leave. I make sure you’re alright, I buy you all this fancy shit, I accommodate for ya and I don’t know what I’m doing wrong. I’m doing it for my folks and you. That’s what I’ve always told ya, what I’ve always told myself. It’s for Mama, Daddy, and you. That’s it. All of this ain’t for me, it’s never been. Let me satisfy you. This is your place, that’s the spot you’re filling.”

The sound of your voice raises and your tone has changed to match his in attempts to defend yourself, “Don’t act like I’m abandoning you, Elvis. I’ve supported you ever since I met you. I don’t need fancy things to make me happy, it ain’t about that. I don’t need you spending a dollar on me. I’m just a regular old girl from Memphis and for some reason your mind thinks I’m someone else.”

“You’ve always been you. Ain’t no other girl like you. You know that you’re special, I’ve known ya for so long.” He reassures you as if stating the obvious, something you should know and not be doubting. Something that for some odd reason you have seemed to forget.

“That’s the problem. You’re so focused on what I represent, how I make you feel. I’m not some memento from Memphis that you can carry around in your pocket like spare change. That don’t make me sound like a person. I’m all alone. I’m surrounded by so many people, been places I’ve never stepped foot it in, and I’ve never been so lonely. You don’t give me a second thought. I’m only here when it’s convenient for you, when it’s convenient for me to exist. That ain’t friendship. I’m only here when you’re struggling, I’m struggling, Elvis.”

His voice gets even louder and at this point it’s almost like a contest of who can outdo the other in loudness of volume and truth of defensive statements. “You don’t think I’m lonely? You don’t think it’s overwhelming for me too? Everyone thinks life is all good and dandy for Elvis Presley. Sun is shining all the time when you’re tryna support everyone. It’s all fun and games when you get all the pressure on your shoulders, the attention from everyone, the press hounding ya…”

You can’t help but roll your eyes in annoyance and throw your hands down in exasperation, “Here we go again. You’re the only one going through things. We’re all just planets going around your sun. No one else is allowed to feel? I’m trying to get you to understand what I’m feeling and it’s all about you again.”

The smart choice would be to calm the situation down but your honor can’t let you. To you he is the Elvis you’ve known for years and years, one that isn’t any better than you.

His face gets a deeper shade of red as if you have finally struck a nerve and he points his finger at you accusingly, “You aren’t gonna disrespect me like that. Acting like I’m some selfish bastard.”

“I never said that-” You back up as you realize it has started to get too serious, too real. You’ve never had an argument this momentous and your voice reflects the shock.

“That’s the last thing you’re gonna do, woman. If you wanna spend all your time in Memphis, do that. Live your whole life sitting in that same ole house, I don’t give a damn.” Annoyance seeps out of his voice and you aren't sure if it’s stubbornness or irresponsibility that makes you keep arguing.

“Why am I an extra in your life, Elvis? My whole life revolves around you and you don’t give me the time of day. I hate that I’ve taught myself I’m only good when you’re around. It makes me sick to my stomach. What happened to ‘we’ll always be together?’ We haven’t been for a long time now.”

“Then why do it in the first place? Why let me drag you around if you’re gonna nag and complain about how miserable you are? Why say yes?”

“Because I love you Elvis!” At this moment his face softens immediately.

Your voice breaks into a cry as the strong walls you have built up from the ash have broken down again, “A-and I’m so scared, I’m terrified. Everything’s changing and I’m terrified of losing ya. I wanna make you happy, I want you to love me. But maybe I’m not cut out for it. I’m not good enough for this life.”

He reaches out to hold your hands, “Don’t say that—”

“I wish with every bone in my body that I was but I’m not. I can’t be the girl that you want me to be. Maybe you’ve grown from needing me and I’m still stuck. But if that’s true I gotta sort it out alone, I can’t hold you back.”

In this moment his lips touch yours and you are taken aback for a second from shock, immediately you close your eyes and kiss him back just as passionately. The kiss is years of pent up emotions and years of confessions unsaid.

He pulls away, puts his hands on your hips to stabilize you, and speaks confidently, “I love you, Satnin. I always have and I always will. If I haven’t been showing ya that recently then I’m real stupid. You’re all I want you to be, I beg ya believe me. I don’t know what kinda girl you think you can’t be, but we’ll sort it out.. I’ll make sure we see it through because I love you. I’m in love with you and my biggest regret is not telling you sooner.”

You’re at a loss for a verbal response so your body’s natural instinct takes over and it’s your turn to kiss him, both of your hands cup his face as your lips take ownership of what they’ve always wanted. It’s just as passionate as the kiss you two shared prior, but this one is full of heat. His hands roaming up and down your body feeling anything he can as his lips focus on yours just adds to the friction.

It’s a desire that fills and energizes, a desire that refuses to be tamed just by the touching of lips and moving of mouths. The tension in the room is different from the cold atmosphere of a few minutes ago; it’s dirty, it’s sloppy, it’s sexual. The seconds of kissing turns into a few minutes of a make out session, one that has only occurred before in your fantasies. You’ve both been standing for a while but neither of your legs are tired.

The kiss is only broken when Elvis moves his hand to your ass and after a squeeze he picks you up, your legs wrapping around his waist as your arms do the same around his neck.

He whispers seductively in a tone you’ve never heard him use with you before, “I’m gonna show you how much I love ya. Just you wait. I wanna make it up to you.”

He carries you over to his bed and places you gently onto the soft sheets. Elvis kneels down on the ground in front of you as you lay, biting your lip in anticipation. His hands go to take off your heels, the ones that were killing your feet earlier but adrenaline dulled the pain. “Don’t want your little sooties to be all sore now.”

You blush light pink at the baby slang for your feet, the softness of his words contrasting from the passionate feelings of this moment.

It’s when he comes back up from his spot on the ground to lean on top of you on the bed, the veins on his arms showing themselves off beautifully as he holds himself up, that you realize the seriousness of what’s about to happen.

His lips move from your mouth, down your chin and to your neck. At first it starts with little ticklish pecks, then sucking on your skin that is sure to leave marks all over you in the morning. It isn’t until the first small moan escapes your mouth that you realize the seriousness of the moment. Your back instinctively arches as he moves to your collarbone; it’s as if your body has known for a while what’s going to happen, what it wants to happen, and your brain has just unfuzzed enough to catch up. He wants to have sex with you and you want to have sex with him too.

The arch in your back gives him the cue to lift you even more up to reach the zipper on the back of your top. Your heart pangs and he lifts his mouth from your skin when he notices the way you shiver at his touch on the small of your back. “I-Is this alright? Are you comfortable with this? I don’t wanna move forward if you aren’t comfy.”

“This is more than alright, Elvis. You can keep going…please.” He nods without saying a word and uses his right and unzips your top seamlessly, it’s like it was meant to be taken off this way. The only non gentle part of this process is him taking the top in his hands and looking at it before throwing the garment across the room. This took you by surprise at first but he did buy it for you, so you suppose it’s his to take off and throw. Before you know it your bra is unclipped as well and the room’s cold air hits your warm chest making you shiver again.

“Wow, honey.” Elvis’ licks his lips as he takes you in. Your breasts move up and down with your breathing. “Can’t believe you’ve been hiding ‘em from me…”

He bends down and gives each of your breasts a long kiss, evoking a small giggle from you. His mind compares your laugh to the most beautiful of melodies.

His eyes bounce back and forth between your giggle-induced bouncing breaths as he begins to talk to them. “She’s been covering yall up? Hiding you two from Elvis? That aint fair ain’t it?”

“Elvis stop that.” You give a small eye roll as the laughter vibrates your whole body and the smile on your face lights up the room.

He smiles as he gives your nipple a small nibble in order to get another reaction from your body before looking up at your eyes again. Your blush reminds him of a pretty picture, “It’s like ya locked me out of heaven.”

You laugh at his exaggeration, “You’re too much.”

“You’re just enough.” He kisses your lips again.

He moves his mouth down your stomach and stops when met with another roadblock: your skirt. He just shakes his head and the zipper is undone faster than the one that was keeping your top together. You lift your ass to help shimmy out of the fabric and with Elvis’ help it rolls down your legs to drop on the ground between his feet.

The sight he sees below him at this moment is one he has only seen in his wet dreams, one he has moaned about when erections snuck up on him, one that makes him get even harder in his pants then he already is.

You lay before him with the cutest shade of pink flushing your face, your lips slightly parted as you stare at him awaiting his next move, your chest fully exposed as if inviting him in, and the only item of clothing still keeping some sort of mystery from his eyes is the cotton white panties on your bottom half. It’s the only thing that he isn’t quick to take off once it gets in his way, it’s like a gift on Christmas. A special present you’ve been anticipating all year, for him longer.

Your blush gets even redder in embarrassment as you assume that he’s looking at the growing wet spot dampening the fabric, staining the sea of innocence. It’s one you can’t explain, a wetness that you only get when around him. One that makes you clamp your legs together subconsciously whenever an innuendo hits the right spot. It’s one that calls for obliviously necessary panty changes when you rush to bathroom expecting your monthly blood, to pull down your pants and find out that the “blood” is a pool of translucency.

“Can I take these off, honey?” His fingers play with the upper band of your underwear restlessly, waiting for permission to get exploring a new world. Lewis and Clark getting ready to explore Louisiana. Settlers waiting to go travel west in the search for gold. Elvis doubts that any gold buried in California is a good comparison to the teasing quality of your snatch against the see through white veil of your panties. He looks at you patiently, you’re the fucking American Dream.

You nod your head shyly at him, still unsure of the fact that you’re about to be truly exposed before him. It’s a vulnerable state in which all humans come. Adam and Eve weren’t aware they were naked until after they sinned and you’re about to eat the apple.

Unexpectedly, Elvis shakes his head at you as if you got an answer wrong in class and he’s trying to lightly break it to you. He will break it to you, firm but encouraging, dominant but soft, “Nuh uh. Gotta use your words, baby. Be a big girl and answer me, I need to hear ya say yes. You usually ain’t got no issue with that. Such a talker and now you’re as quiet as a dormouse?”

“Yes. You can ta-take them off.” Your quiet voice doesn’t beat the dormouse accusations and you can’t help but be embarrassed by your weak stutter but you are all the way sure that you want this. You’ve never wanted anything more.

“Thank you.” Elvis wasn't gonna fight you on that, he was a racing horse ready for the starting gate to open, a hungry tiger waiting to pounce. After hearing the sweetness of your consent, there never was a sweeter sound, he gently but efficiently pulls down your panties, exposing yet another part of your delicate body to the cold air. With the same fate as your black skirt, your panties start to be rolled down your legs but instead of letting them reach the ground, Elvis lifts both of your legs slightly to grab the white fabric and put it in the pocket of his pants. He knows that the pants won’t stay on for much longer but even when they eventually fall to the floor, his party favor will stay secure.

He does a full look over you again from your face down to your pussy, a sight that for a while he thought he’d never get the blessing of seeing in person. A sight that there are no words to describe quite right. His voice is breathless as he speaks to you, “You’re gorgeous.”

You’re too focused on looking at his concentrated face to notice his fingers going to touch your soaked cunt, a high pitched moan of surprise leaves your mouth. Not only surprised at his tender fingers touching the hissing heat, but surprised at how fantastic it feels. The two fingers making contact are the perfect balance of soft and calloused. They go back and forth, exploring your pillowy pink cunt like it’s a new guitar waiting to be tested out. Even with just a few seconds of touch, your arousal coats him welcomingly already. “All this slick is for me? I did this to ya? All this for Lil’ Elvis, he’s a lucky guy.”

“Al-all for you, Elvis. Always for you.”

Elvis in all his experience knows exactly where to go to make you twitch in satisfaction, the tiny bundle of nerves is the sweet spot. His fingers move in a circular motion, his fast pace never tiring. Your moans start to pick up and Elvis swears it’s the best sound he’s ever had the privilege to have heard in his 21 years of living. The moans are soft and breathy for the most part, here and there you let out a deep alto coming from your core.

“Oh, Elvis!” The first yell of his name is like ecstasy for him.

As if suddenly aware where you are, a motel room, not a floating cloud in heaven, you bite your lip to be careful. You can just imagine the weird stares you’d get from people in the morning, especially the ones that know it was your high voice disrupting an otherwise peaceful late night.

As if noticing those satisfying, constient noises of pleasure being muffled, rather terribly, Elvis looks up from your distracting pussy for the first time in a while. His fingers never stop their circles on your clit. “Let me hear ya. Don’t keep those sweet noises from me, darling. Don’t ever do that.” You're amazed at how he can multitask, a small reprimand comes out of his mouth while his fingers give the most pleasing feeling in the world, all simultaneously.

Remembering faintly behind the wispy clouds fogging your mind the loud sounds that you’ve heard from other guests while staying in random rooms around the country, your concerns manage to string together a sentence. “Th-the walls are thin. People can’t hear m-me.”

People can hear you. They can hear you well, what you meant is that you don’t want people to hear you but the words didn’t quite come out that way.

“You want em to hear ya moaning and screaming? Gonna up the ante, doll?”

“N-no, no! Don’t wanna…don’t want them.”

“Oh. Well t-those folks don’t matter none. Nothing matters right now but you and me. Me and you.”

To drive this idea into your mind, to take your worrying head off of consequences, one of Elvis’ fingers makes his way inside of you gently. Your walls naturally squeeze around his finger and his cock pulses in his pants in pure jealousy, Lil’ Elvis getting impatient for his turn. His long finger curls just a bit before sitting still inside of you for a second, your button hissing at being left abandoned. He moves his finger in and out of you gently as he speaks, “Jeez, baby. When was the last time someone touched ya? You’re as tight as a virgin.”

You freeze in that moment, for you are a virgin and he senses this immediately from your hesitation, the way your bright eyes widen and long eyelashes flutter as if a secret just became uncovered. From your reaction you’d think he started fucking you already. “Elvis…I-I…”

“Oh. You are…? A w-while ago you were with that…thought you were….Never mind that. I know I gotta give ya that extra attention now. I’m gonna get ya prepped for me, honey. Ju-just wish ya would’ve spoken up and let a guy a know…It’s a big thing for ya pretty head to keep secret.”

Having a bigger duty and responsibility on his shoulders after learning that you’ve never taken a cock before, Elvis knows he’s gotta take extra time with you and he has any complaints about that. Even if you weren’t a virgin, he would’ve been mindful with you anyways for it was the gentleman thing to do. Elvis Presley might be a horny man, a horny man who’s cock wants nothing more to be buried inside of you fucking you senseless, but he’s not selfish son of a bitch.

He wiggles and works a second finger inside of you, your eyebrows furrow and eyelids close at the sensation. As he sets his pace inside of your pussy, your moans get louder as if building up to something. You make no attempt to hold them back, but even if you tried there’s no way you could for the pleasure was too strong.

“Elvis! O-oh…yes, yes!”

“There you go…Let all that shit go, all those bad thoughts. Atta girl.”

You feel something build deep inside of your lower stomach, it’s like a fire being fed. When Elvis feels your walls start to clench, he stops and immediately slips out of you. It’s quick and easy since you are so slick.

What you didn’t expect more than his touch leaving you was an anger building inside of you. Your brows furrowed in confusion and your voice was quick to implore him for answers, “What the….? Why’d you stop? You can’t just—”

He chuckles, making you more annoyed. “Shhh….Imma give ya what you want, Imma give ya everything ya need.”

In his kneeling position at the edge of the bed he adjusts a little and moves his head down so it’s face to face with your cunt. “Such a needy girl with an even greedier pussy. Greedy for something it don’t even know.”

You whine as your body shimmy’s down further, desperate to meet his mouth. He puts his hands on your thighs, opening your legs more and keeping you stable at the same time. “Both of you are whining for me, huh? I’ll take care of ya.”

In that moment he kisses your cunt with a small peck and your mind flips on itself. His laugh vibrates your pussy. He’s amused by the fact that if that tiny kiss made you jump you had a bigger surprise waiting for you and oh he couldn’t wait to show you. He’s the only one who knows what’s coming next.

Elvis’ mouth makes contact with your cunt again, eating you out with unending strokes of vigor and passion like it’s what he was put on this earth to do, he’s close to the finish line of something he’s been dreaming of accomplishing for a long time: helping you reach your finish line.

Your legs bend around his head, encasing him in paradise. Your left hand meets and intertwines with his right one, holding hands is such an innocent gesture at a time like this but it’s so perfect. In contrast, your right hand grips the sheets with whitening knuckles. “Yes, Elvis! Just like that….Oh Lord.”

His tongue has no mercy as it devours you, he’s like a starving animal. Your hips, also chasing, buck up to meet his mouth halfway. He works you perfectly and it isn’t long before the storm starts to brew in your lower tummy again, like lightening is waiting to strike.

“Please, please, oh please, please.” You don’t even know exactly what you’re pleading for, just some release, some finish.

“I’m…I’m...oh my God.” Your words serve as a strong caffeine as Elvis starts to suck on your sensitive clit and that’s when the band breaks and you reach euphoria. A wave of satisfaction floods your body like the ocean, it's a feeling so foreign but so instinctual, new but always meant to be. Your moans are easily the loudest they’ve been so far and your legs start to shake intensely. The room seems to spin around you as you start to see the stars, the same ones you saw decorating the night sky outside. Elvis licks and sucks you through your high, tasting the sweet honey of your release on his face as your legs close tightly around his head, making him go deeper.

Moving your hips against him to ride out your finish, your body feels limp as you try to catch your breath. Elvis lifts his head and looks at you with a grin, an attempt to lift your hand to wipe his face is a failure since your hand shakes as soon as you bring it up and ends up falling right back on the sheets. He licks his lips and comes back up to kiss you.

His grin is boyish as if proud that he was the one to make you feel that way. The first man to give you an orgasm, the first man to make you writhe and moan, the first man who’s name is screamed by that parted mouth of yours. Hopefully the only man to ever make you do those things. His mind will remember this in the future when met with any of your smartass remarks, eye rolls, or teasing. Is it wrong for him to love that? Too damn bad he’d say.

He whispers in your ear, thick southern drawl and all, “You feel better, mhm? You were being so good for me, honey. You taste like some honey too, no doubt.”

Your voice is as shaky as your legs were just a second ago, “I l-love you, Elvis.”

“I love you too, baby.”

A need to give back fills your heart and you somehow manage in this jelly-like state to sit up, your hands going towards Elvis’ pants. When you cup the hard bulge in his trousers, his head falls back with a groan. “F-fuck…see what you do to me?” You nod, amazed at the fact that you are the reason for his arousal. When he unzips his pants and pulls down his underwear with them, he is as hard as a rock, standing at attention because of you.

After taking off his bottom garments, he kneels on the sheets of the bed and goes to unbutton his white dress shirt as you stare at his cock. Assuming that this is the first one you have ever seen, he isn’t all anxious but is instead proud of Lil’ Elvis and the gawking reaction he is getting from you.

The only time you had seen a penis was in middle school sex education class but that was only a drawing of one. It was 9am and the black and white non-detailed sketch of the male anatomy was met with giggles by your immature classmates. For you it was met with a yawn considering the time was 9 in the morning and your only objective in that time slot is to stay awake.

Fast forward to the present day sitting in front of a hard cock, the one belonging to Elvis Presley, was nothing short of fascinating. This one differed in some ways from the one you were shown years back in class, not only was it more detailed and quite a bit bigger, but there was extra skin covering the tip. This observation interests you and with curiosity getting the best of your racing mind, you bring your hand up to wrap your fingers around the thick of his length and pull just a little bit of skin back gently with a soft up and down motion.

When you do this, your glimpse at a pink tip and a bead of liquid forming in the slit was just a small glance because Elvis twitched around you immediately, a small moan. In fear that you’ve hurt the man you love, your hand immediately draws back as if he was a stone that burnt you.

“I-I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to hurt ya, E. I should’ve asked, I really should’ve. You asked before—”

“Honey, honey!” He cuts your worries off. “It’s alright, you didn’t hurt me. I-It’s ju-just felt really good. The way you got all shaky when I kissed ya all nice? It’s the same thing.”

“Oh.” Just a simple motion would help him reach that dream-like state you were in just a few minutes ago? It seems like women were more complicated.

You weren’t oblivious to the fact that many women took cock inside their mouths to pleasure their men. You’ve overheard Elvis and his Memphis Mafia talk about women “giving them head” which you have assumed is a girl making them fall apart with just her head. There’s only one hole on the face big enough to please so your mind decided to fit the puzzle pieces together on its own, unsure if your puzzle matched the truth.

If you knew how to perform this critically acclaimed “head giving” you would in an attempt to satisfy your already watering mouth, but in fear of the unknown you decided to stick to what you’ve been told feels good. You decide to keep pumping him, up and down, up and down. His voice is breathy with encouraging praises. “J-just like that, baby. So good for me. Making me feel so nice…so nice.”

It’s pure vulnerability sitting across from each other fully naked, you pleasing him right after he pleased you. It’s when your fingertip goes to swipe at the beads decorating the slit of his red tip that he stops you with a hiss.

“You’re gonna finish me quick if ya keep on. Now Lil’ Elvis may not mind either way, you’ll find out he’s a horny thing, but it’s better if I’m in ya. I wanna be inside ya. Lay down, honey.”

You do as he says and lay down obediently, trying to mentally prepare yourself by taking deep breaths.

Part of him wanted to take you from behind, fucking you fast and rough until tears form on your face, tears of pleasure this time. But knowing what he knows about your lack of past experience and wanting to see your face as you take him for the first time, he’ll have you lay down comfortably. He has no problem at all either way, he’d even be pleased if the night ended right here without him coming to that sweet finish. A day ended after eating you out is a day well spent in his book.

“Imma go real slow. It might sting a bit cause you’re all fresh and new down there but you’re a big girl. My strong little satnin, I know you can do it. You’ll take me.”

“Okay.” You remember his demand earlier to use your words to respond and you do so.

He leans over you, getting in a good position to enter. While rubbing his tip against your cunt in preparation, edging you both in the process, he swears that he could finish right there easily.

You look down at the spot where you are to connect with amazement. Knowing for a fact that Elvis is anything but a virgin, you trust his skill and watch his process. It seems planned out prefectures and oh how glad you are to have a perfect man. No one on earth is perfect but Elvis Presley is so perfectly Elvis Presley. The things he excels at never disappoint.

You feel the burning plunge of his entry and immediately both hands go to grip as much of the white sheets as they can. Once he has the tip in his eyes go up and down interchangeably, watching both your face and your pussy while you take him. It’s better than any movie.

He continues on his slow journey inside of you. Meanwhile, you’re a pain you’ve never felt before, no way things are supposed to go up there. No way things are designed specifically to go up there. If they were, why is it so big?

His voice is breathy and his eyebrows furrow in concentration. “F-fuck…Tight ass pussy. Sucking me in.”

Your groan is a mix of pleasure at his words and of pain at the impaling you’re experiencing. For a split second you think about looking away, like not watching the needle go in you at the doctors office, but you can’t.

He’s only about half way in when you convince yourself that there is no way you can take more.

“It hurts like hell, Elvis. S-stop, just for a second. I need to breathe..I can’t breathe.” He halts the second you say stop and his attention is strictly on your face, his eyes full of concern. Tears start to form in the corner of your eyes as your breath starts to pick up.

“Breathe, baby. It’s alright. Take your time.” The only thing he wants more than bottoming out is for you to be comfortable. He wants to go deeper, he wants to fuck you until you can’t remember your name but his love and concern for you comes first always.

“I don’t think I can, Elvis. It’s too big, it’s huge.” These comments come not as an attempt to enlarge his ego (they are in fact doing that) but of actual concern for the state of your situation.

“Shhh…it’s gonna fit. God didn’t make men and women not fit with one another, he made us perfect. You just gotta relax or else you’ll just tighten up again. Don’t mess up our progress, honey, it’ll hurt even more.”

It’s hard to relax when you’ve got the long lost cousin of metal pipe piercing into your body. You don’t say that aloud though. With a deep breath you continue, “Okay, you can keep going….just slow.”

He heeds your instructions and continues plunging into you with small rolls of his hips until he bottoms out with a loud grown, officially balls deep inside of you. You two moan simultaneously as he starts moving in and out carefully. Beautiful waves of pain and pleasure perfectly balanced move through your body.

“Fuck. Just like that.” Truth was you weren’t doing anything but moaning and arching your back, but that was all he needed. Just your body responding to his.

Your hips going up involuntarily to meet his thrusts is a signal for Elvis to go faster and that he does. He moves deeper and harder inside of you, one hand showing its veins as it grips the soft sheets next to your head and the other gripping hard onto the bone of your hip.

“Oh my God, Oh my God…” You gasp and bite your lip. Everything about this is so vulgar but so beautiful. Two beautiful bodies focused on nothing but making love. A moment like this is something you’d dream about at night and then in the morning sun pray to God for forgiveness from such thoughts. Now you are yelling up for mercy in a different way.

He leans down to whisper in your ear, his rhythmic thrusts never slowing. “It’s Elvis, honey. I’m the one doin’ it to ya.” You moan from the vibrations of his voice against your skin. His lips move smoothly to your neck, sucking on your skin to mark you as his own. He’s the one who ruined you and he wants the whole world to know.

As he makes a masterpiece of your neck, your hands grab onto his back, fingernails sure to leave red tracks. You’re both making your presence known on eachother’s bodies. Your cunt makes its satisfaction known with loud gushes going hand in hand with your loud moans. There is no vibrato left inside of you.

“Elvis! Oh yes!”

The man orchestrating it all lifts his wet pink lips from your collarbone, breath heavy. “So perfect. You’re made for me, I’ve always known you were made to be mine.”

“Mmmm….”

“I’m so cl-close….I’m gonna….” He wants to finish inside you, it would be his first time coming inside of a woman unprotected and he wants that special woman to be you. But he can’t. He knows deep down that it would be one of the most irresponsible decisions he could make. It would be a selfish decision.

It wouldn’t be in your freshly-fucked best interest, it wouldn’t be in his new careers best interest, It wouldn’t be in the best interest of the fans having to wait for Elvis Presley to get off of paternity leave.

If only he could fill you up without getting you pregnant. That’ll have to be a fantasy between him and his fist.

Quickly, he pulls out of you to prepare for his impending release giving his cock a few pumps to try to replace the warmth from your pulsing walls with his hand. Finally, a stream of white liquid comes bursting out of the slit of his and you watch with short breathed awe as his immediately head leans back, mouth moaning your name over and over like a prayer.

You’re the one who made him feel so good that he reached the clouds. Knowing that it’s Elvis’ turn to see the starry sky, experiencing the same state of bliss that you were able to encounter earlier, makes your heart so happy.

Your belly now is feeling a different type of warmth. it’s his release making a mess of your stomach, spurting like paint all over you. As soon as it’s all out of his system, Lil’ Elvis giving the show its last encore, the man in front of you cups your face into his hands and kisses you. He rolls to lay his body next to yours, your lips now the only parts still connecting.

Elvis pulls away and both of you try to catch your breaths.

“I love you, Satnin.” He whispers softly.

You respond back just as gently, “I love you too.”

That was…an experience. If you got this far thank you, thank you, thank you. I hope you enjoyed. My inbox is always open for questions, comments, and concerns. I take requests but there is no guarantee I’ll get to them. (they’ll probably give me inspiration to write more often though). Call me, beep me, if you wanna reach me. Adieu my loves. ✨

[mochilovesbuffmen]

Bucchigiri?! x Reader

Some silly hcs when you're his s/o

Part Two w Outa and Matakara<3

Reader is GN!

Shindo

✓ I actually imagine you were a freshman at the school when you met Shindo ✓ you only knew him from afar since back then he liked to keep to himself, always shy and quiet around everyone ✓ things changed when you joined Minato Kai ✓ you were training with the other members when Ken came around with a new member ✓ you instantly recognized Shindo ✓ making your move on getting to know him you two spend a lot of time together (you constantly pestered him) ✓ he slowly opened up to you and you helped him woth becoming stronger as well ✓ when the incident happened where he got banned from Minato Kai you two lost contact even though you tried to find him again ✓ a while later Shindo showed up before you one day, completely changed ✓ explained his plans to you bc you still have a special place in his heart ✓ you tried to warn Ken but it was already too late when the fight started ✓ after the fight (and Shindo getting his ahh handed to him) he surprisingly stuck around you ✓ but not in a nice way, that mf was everywhere you went (or you swore it was a curse and you were the one constantly running into him) ✓ you knew everything that was happening with Senya and Ichiya because Shindo doesn't keep his voice down while ranting about them every chance he gets ✓ from then on you two were a duo (unintentionally)

Arajin

✓ plssss the only way you'd (hopefully) ever fall for this guy is when you knew him before ✓ like you were chilling with Matakara and Arajin everyday when you were kids ✓ watched them train to become Honki people omg ✓ but that day young Matakara got beat up by this group of kids you weren't around because of a family emergency ✓ you only ever heard Matakaras side of story of why he suddendly moved without saying goodbyes ✓ you two missed him everyday from them on but you had quiet a lot on your hands with rebel Matakara anyways (can't blame ya) ✓ when Arajin moved back and joined your school you were actually ecstatic ✓ you finally had your childhood crush Back after all ✓ Arajins eyes lit up for a bit and you could see a blush on his cheeks when he saw you for the first time when you went to greet him ✓ his happiness quickly dropped tho and he was acting cold towards you, kinda like he's hella uncomfy in your presence (Zabu wanted to beat shrimps ahh everytime he saw you sad bc Arajin ignored you again ✓ and this is how it went ✓ with you (and Matakara) trying to talk to him but he blocked you both out help ✓ you never thought you'd actually be jealous of Mahoro out of all people srs ✓ "I need to find my darling husband. I'm so worried about him." "Honestly, what do you see in that guy?" "He makes me laugh." -Y'alls energy ✓ anyways, i believe you two come together after the whole ideal with Matakara and Ichiya is done. ✓ you were the first one there to hug him&taking care of him and the way he finally seemed to care about you and Matakara made you happy ✓ you have the old Arajin finally back ✓ he still tried to ask Mahoro out w the stone and she rejected (obv) you swooped in and offered him to go on a date. ✓ with no guilt haunting him he was able to see you as you and man was SMITTEN ✓ have fun with a sweaty and awkward diarrhea bomb crushing on you ✓ tbh prepare for him to stare and be interested in other women too (if you can't beat em join em and now you both look at women you find pretty but You're much more smooth with it) ✓ will gift you your personal carved stone with yours and his initials <3 ✓ wear his shirts plsssss he loves it sm ✓ he can COOK and this WELL! Definetly would spoil you with food ✓ he hates fighting but still will protect you (as much as he could) ✓ pls hit him when he tries those cringy romantic shit on you ✓ oh also his momma would absolutely ADORE YOU

KOMAO

✓ HES MY ABSOLUTE FAVORITE ✓such a sweetheart omg ✓ BUT he'll tease the shit outta you if you give him the opportunity ✓ he's so clingy and touchy so expect him to randomly hug you or hold onto you ✓ PIGGY BACK RIDES!!! Both ways! Prefers if you carry him and he'll compliment you sm💞 ✓ prolly has really funny pet names for you too ✓ he straight up asked you out a few days after meeting you ✓ is not above pestering you until you say yes anyways ✓ absolutely loves it when you hold his face in your hands ✓ greeting him every morning means running towards each other and him spinning you (or you him, it can go both ways) ✓ lots of holding hands and hugging to the point Zabu groans loudly out of

[modernidolater]

Neewollah

Trickster Halloween (Aug. 31st)

Long story short, I'm celebrating a variant of Halloween on the 31st of every month that has a 31st.

See here for a Wheel of Halloweens Explainer regarding what the fuck this is about.

Neewollah Inspiration

Right, so off the bat, I do not care for Lammas or Lughnasadh. No hate, but no resonance.

There is, however, a Roman festival in August called Portunalia that honors Portunus, a two-faced counterpart of Janus, both gods of doors and portals, both symbolized by keys. Portunalia is celebrated by throwing keys in a fire while being very sad and upset.

Simultaneously, I have always been fascinated by Lying Contests and ritual obfuscation, and Portunas is literally two-faced (yes, i'm applying modernity to classicity, it's a choice), and we got ourselves a theme.

Neewollah Rituals, Rites, & Traditions

The Two Faced Mask

For Neewollah, and possibly workings of similar nature going forward, I'm going to want to create a mask that gives me two faces. Ideally, I would like this to be a permanent tool/icon/idol in its own right, but for now I'll be making temps.

The plan for the moment is the classic comedy/tragedy dichotomy, but when I create the permanent idol, I'll probably dive deeper into warring duality.

The purpose of the Duality Mask is to take on a trickster guise, saying one thing to manifest the opposite on the principle of, "anything that can go wrong, will." Essentially, I'm going to feint in one direction, then run like hell for the thing I actually desire.

The Seven Trickster Keys

To manifest my desires, I'm going to create Seven Trickster Keys. One for each of the seven major senses: sight, sound, taste, touch, smell, movement, and self.

The Keys are meant to be destroyed, and will be made specifically from paper. In the future, I may go for really ornate ones, but simplicity is also fine.

However they're made, I'm going to write on one side of each key a good thing for that sense I want to call, and on the opposite a bad thing to banish.

Burning The Keys

My goal is to hit a liminal time, sundown or midnight. I will, one at a time in the above listed order, burn the keys. As I burn them, I will loudly talk about what a shame it is to lose the thing I want to banish. Just, making a big deal of it going away. Big show. Lay it on with a trowel.

No mention of the good stuff yet.

Once they're all burned, I'm going to begin talking about the things I do want, but in the same terms.

"Gee, how am I going to handle all this financial success, however will I cope with finding true love, how even can I stand having stability, gosh that new car is gonna be really a big responsibility," and so on.

As I do, I'm going to take a bit of the ash and tap it on the forehead of the mask to capture the knowledge of how to gain what I desire, the backs of my hands to grasp it, and the tops of my feet to set me walking the path to my goals.

Once I have very thoroughly assured the universe that the best way to screw with me is to give me those good things and steal away the bad things, I'll gather the ash for future use in ritual, unmask, and either dispose of the temp, or when I have a permanent duality mask, return it to its place.

The Backhand Bowl

Wouldn't be a Halloween without candy, but Neewollah is not about just having things. I've checked and I'm definitely on my own for the Keys unless my twin joins in (obfuscation rituals being uncomfy for my partner), so the Backhand Bowl may also be me on my own unless one or both choose to partake in this part.

Either way, the idea is that to take a candy, you must ask to take a candy and be told no...while the person telling you no gives you the candy. This is actually a joke in my circle, of dramatically refusing a request while performing it, so I'm not fussed about this one.

But assuming solo practice, in my case I will likely just announce that I don't want a piece of candy while I eat that tasty lie candy.

Food, Drink, & Celebrating

Neewollah is largely about the Trickster Keys, so there's nothing I have planned for ritual feasts or drink at this time. First year, first time, so I may develop traditional Neewollah foods later.

I do have the idea that, if I find myself in a place to celebrate with others, I'll probs see about games like Two Truths & A Lie, Never Have I Ever, or a Lying Contest.

Obviously, though, I may still have like, pizza and a couple drinks, it's a Halloween, after all.

Anyway, that's Neewollah, the Trickster Halloween!

Wish me luck, play along if you choose, and if you take this on, let me know!

[lacrimosathedark]

Hellaverse Aces Headcanons

We have THREE whole confirmed asexuals in the Hellaverse and one more kind of implied, so as an ace-spec person myself, I thought it'd be fun to do headcanons on where they stand.

Mammon

100% asexual, sex averse but not repulsed. Or rather, he isn't super bothered being exposed to it (especially if it's making him money) but he DOES NOT want to be involved. Like, he has those two Fizzie Bots to give off the appearance that he has bitches, but he has no bitches and I don't think he wants them.

Probably aromantic. He doesn't seem to understand love and certainly doesn't care for it. His first love is money and nothing will come between him and that bag. Also, man dresses like an aro flag on the daily.

The other three are much longer so under the cut we go!

Octavia Goetia

Mildly sex-repulsed asexual. She might be demi, but it's hard to say without her having many peers in the show thus far. But on the whole, she gives off totally ace vibes. I don't think she was just embarrassed by her dad's public flirting, but genuinely uncomfy with the subject matter. Blitzø's openness on the subject might be part of why she dislikes him so much.

It's hard to stay with her limited screen time, but I also think she's greyromantic. She doesn't seem to understand love. That is probably partly from how she was raised; her parents are far from a good model for a loving relationship. But she also just has disinterested vibes to me. It feels like she doesn't even really think about it.

She's made a connection with Loona, and it feels so solidly sisterly. I mean, it would be a little bit weird if it skewed romantic with the potential for being future step-siblings, but weirder things happen in HB. Via just seems to have a quick solid sisterly bond with her and it's adorable.

She puts a lot of value in platonic relationships. She is so deeply heartbroken by her parents divorce even if they hate each other because they're both good to her (or at least I presume Stella is usually good to Via or else she'd probably be less upset or upset about different things in the divorce). Her biggest fear is that Stolas will leave her behind.

We know Stolas loves her more than anything (heehee) and is just a bit too self-centered and wrapped in his own head to be as attentive to her as they'd like. And as upset as she gets with him, Via always forgives Stolas for being stupid. He means the world to her and vice versa.

If she were to ever get married, it would literally be her best friend and she would say that no one should expect an heir from her. I feel like she would be happiest with a queerplatonic partner who would cuddle her and maybe kiss her cheek and forehead, but nothing "more" than that so to speak.

Alastor

Honestly will admit that my perspective here may be tainted by my adoration of Radioapple.

Demi or greysexual, but basically 99% asexual. By which I mean it's more literally a one in a million chance that he'd find any interest in someone. His attraction is very particular. Like, never being attracted to anyone until meeting The One. (For clarity, I don't believe in fate and finding someone he's miraculously attracted to doesn't "fix" him so let's shut that shit down. You can be attracted to literally one person and if you feel no attraction for anyone else, that's still ace. It doesn't disqualify you from asexuality.)

Sex averse in general, and generally repulsed at the idea of self-involvement. Outside of That One Person, sex disgusts him, and even then it's still hit or miss whether he's into it or not. He's alright enough with it that he can casually walk the streets of Pentagram City unbothered, but he otherwise wouldn't willingly expose himself to it ex. being very notably absent on Show and Tell day.

It involves far too much physical contact for his liking, and being friends with someone like Mimzy in life, he likely has seen much of the darker side of it. I wouldn't be surprised if so-called predators were his prey in life.

Some people think of him as repulsed by the body fluid stuff (I certainly am) but I don't think that's a factor for him. Man eats demons whole. He gets everything that is inside them. Including their digestive systems. I don't think other body fluids are gonna be an issue lol

He knows sexual attraction could be used to manipulate someone, but he is disgusted by the concept, maybe because he saw that happen too much when he was alive, or he considers it pathetic, debasing yourself for someone else. Man also covers up from the neck down, he could have an issue being bare around someone else.

Homo-greyromantic. I can't imagine this man romantically attracted to a woman, if only because I feel like if he were, he would be married to Rosie by now because they seem like a perfect fit. If they were alive, they would be the type to be married for tax benefits (or the benefit of not having to testify against each other in court HA).

LOOK AT THEM. He's so comfy and genuinely happy with her it's so cute! He do a little squeak aaaaaa If Alastor understood the concept of asexuality he and Rosie would be qpps and you can never convince me otherwise. It is a hill I would die on.

And him only being attracted to men would make a lot of sense why he'd never found someone, because he has a general disdain for men that is actually pretty common in people attracted to men, women especially. Men are trash is his baseline, why would he give them a chance, especially in Hell where they're almost guaranteed to be awful? No thanks. Not worth it. He has better things to do. Like murder!

Plus, he's so fucking fruity sometimes lol

I mean, come on.

(also, sidenote, bitch GET YOUR SHOES OFF THE BED)

It also would make Radiostatic/silence more tragic imo. Like, maybe Alastor felt some kind of romantic about him, but Vox wanted something sexual too and Alastor just wasn't interested. Vox is a pretty sexual guy. If "dating" a pimp running a porn studio isn't enough, this is.

I'm so Velvette in this scene lol stfu Vox calm down

But if Vox wanted sex and Alastor flat-out rejected it, Vox might not have understood the complexities of Alastor's attraction and assumed he was lacking something, that Alastor didn't actually like him, and took it personally and lashed out.

We know Vox is obsessed with Alastor, and there's certainly mutual disdain, but isn't it more tragic if Alastor felt betrayed too? He lost a friend, or maybe something more intimate, all because said friend wanted to fuck him. That's so relatable tbh.

Striker

Yes I'm including him.

I'm gonna guess he's actually autosexual and otherwise sex-repulsed. Every time sex is brought up, he's visibly uncomfortable and even angry. That could be for any number of reasons, but I'm going with this lol. The only reason I'm not "sure" he's sex-repulsed ace is that fucking statue of his.

I mean, Stolas does comment about him wanting to suck his own dick sooooooo

But he does also use Blitzø's attraction against him, so not repulsed enough to not use others' attraction against them as a means to an end.

He doesn't give off aro vibes to me, but he could be maybe? To me he just feels like whatever drives him comes first. Whatever happened that made him hate royalty with such a passion supersedes anything else he might feel, and who needs attachments if he's just gonna lose them again?

Aces are shockingly well-fed in the Hellaverse huh? Especially considering our general absence anywhere else, and the crumbs we get are hugely stereotyped and wrong. Like, look at that, only one of them is heartless and none of them are passionless robots! And their sexuality isn't their defining personality trait, just some more color! Wow!

Mainstream media take fuckin notes.

[i-sveikata]

Hi author, I was rereading Graveyards (as I do quite often) when I noticed it. Vegas' pet hedgehog does not make an appearance in your fic and I'm thankful for that. Because the hedgehog in the show was so obviously a parallel to Pete being Vegas' "pet" which made me somewhat uncomfortable.

I guess I just want to know what are your thoughts on that hedgehog and was it a deliberate choice on your part to not include that in the fic?

Sending you love! <3

Hey anon!! Aw man no offence to the hedgehog but it was just that bit too cringe for me tbh and since I wasn’t interested in making their dynamic be solely about pet/master- at least with Pete as the pet and Vegas as the master (lol might be a bit of that dynamic the other way around in graveyards but more feral dog/ owner with Vegas putting the leash on himself) the parallel of the existing pet in pete wasn’t a point I was interested in making. So yes it was a deliberate choice!

Yeah I totally get it being a little uncomfy tbh (not everyone’s cup of tea which is fine) but yeah for me that was just the least interesting part of their interactions on screen. It was more about the relenting/ submission/ relinquishing of control or admission of buried pleasure that was fascinating to me. Obvs I’ve taken a fair bit of creative licence with some of the changes I’ve made so the choice not to have the (albeit cute and then very dead) hedgehog just came down to personal preference. I mean it was an interesting kind of metaphor for the scenario- if Pete is the pet then exactly like the hedgehog no matter how well Vegas takes care of him he still won’t survive in a cage- they couldn’t go on in the safe house forever like that not if they wanted either of them to survive.

I felt that Pete’s introspective POV easily covered that sentiment anyway so I didn’t feel like I was making a huge change removing the hedgehog tbh. Also different mediums means different restrictions!! So imo visual metaphors don’t have the same kind of vital importance in written works than they would in a visual medium. If they do it’s expressed in a different way.

But yeah if I’d kept it solely to only what was seen in the tv show (and I hadn’t heard fandom rumbles about the difference between that and what their relationship was like in the original novel) their dynamic would honestly have been less interesting to me.

Like if it was basically just- guy gets captured and abused- feelings get muddled between them when they fall into a master/ pet kind of dynamic and then he hooks up with his captor in a (dubious) heat of the moment thing and then the captor realises feelings, let’s him go/ he escapes. but then nothing truly significant in their dynamic/ statuses changes after that if anything Pete becomes more powerless and victimised in a way that leaves him with barely any agency. before they’re suddenly agonising over being on opposite sides in the coup and then trying to move forward before one almost dies. Then it was just an abrupt skipping ahead to domestic loving relationship in the end where the captor decided they wouldn’t be pet/ master anymore and they would try this for serious with Pete as Vegas’ most important person- I guess I just wanted a bit more depth to that than what I saw in the show- there really felt like a lot more potential for their relationship to grow in a way that felt genuine without sacrificing the significance of their pivotal interactions that we were outright shown. Also there was soooo much room for the cat/ mouse dynamic which I absolutely love to write especially when it’s mixed with romance and sexual tension. And as so much of how they started kind of ended up the opposite which I always find very narratively satisfying in a circular kind of way. I.e Pete starting out stalking Vegas, and Vegas has zero interest in him, to Vegas becoming obsessed with Pete after the time they had together and him being the one stalking Pete, desperate to keep his attention. That’s such a - beaten by your own game, fuck around and find out kind of element that I love to see in stories- and to happen to characters who think they’ve got it all figured out- when inside they’re afraid and insecure and desperate to be loved. Poor Vegas.

Tbh that’s why so much of my fic is kind of flipping their original dynamic on its head and why so much of their interactions are around power and control and how that becomes reversed because that element of it WAS the most interesting to me. Because everything should have changed in a way that neither of them can ever come back from!!! What they’ve done to each other has broken them in a way that ruined them for anybody else. Like at this point whatever freaky little dynamic they’ve got is a thousand times better than what they’d both be doing if they weren’t together lol. They really are the whole- wouldn’t want to inflict them on anyone else- dynamic but together they work as a full codependency/ high intensity, high heat relationship lol. this whole fic is just shameless character study, subversion of power and an in-depth exploration of repressed pleasure lmao. Whoops very long answer but basically yes it all was totally intentional sorry hedgehog!