#that'll be enough cringe for the night! | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

landograndprix · 1 year

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woman ✾ l.n - ii

❧ you love max, you really do but your little brother has been getting more on your nerves each day as he tries to set you up with one of his friends.

❧ verstappen!reader who's older than max so if age gaps freak you out, don't read 💀

❧ prev part – next part

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y/nverstappen

📍 Monte-Carlo, Monaco

liked by kellypiguet, landonorris and 178,672 others

y/nusername only valid reason to visit Monaco if we're being completely honest 🥐

tagged: kellypiguet

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maxkellyp y/n taking her aunt duties very serious

bott_ass where to apply to have you as my sugar auntie? asking for a friend?

zhou_ey time to have your own babies 😍

y/nverstappen I'm actually good with being the wine and sugar aunt for now 🍷

zhou_ey that's a pretty cool job too!

kellypiguet bring her home before dinner? 😂

y/nverstappen what do you mean, we're already on our way back to the netherlands, this my kid now.

lewham44 still a better mother figure to p than kelly 🤡

landonorris I know a few spots in Monaco you can't miss 😉

fewtrelllando spot number one: my bedroom

carlito55 lmao @.fewtrelllando jail for you 😭

dandoo mate, this is a post about her niece and you're flirting with y/n or making and attempt to do so? 😂

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y/nverstappen posted to their story

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landonorizzzz

liked by 563 others

landonorizzzz lando in Monaco last night after the GP ❤️

view all 188 comments

norr4slan screaming crying throwing up 🤯

lanlan frothing at the mouth..

norstappen wait a damn minute, was that y/n verstappen?! 😭

norrizzfour yeah but if you look closely she's just walking past with her friends and kelly lol they probably all went to the same place

maxiell nah my girl is avoiding him for real 💀

landoscar oh my god he's so pretty 😍

supermaxv MOTHER AND LANDO?

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y/nverstappen

📍 Monte-Carlo, Monaco

liked by charles_leclerc, maxverstappen1 and 199,752 others

y/nverstappen Monaco dump 🇲🇨

tagged: sannetje, maxverstappen1, kellypiguet

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dannyricric man I'd do anything to live a life like this

tom1967 she's living off her brothers wealth..

dannyricric I'm pretty sure she makes enough money herself to live a life like this. 🙄

julieeeexo you and sanne served absolute cunt on the grid! 🤩

bobnorriz not the picture of the charles, max and lando podium :')

kellypiguet was really nice to have you around this weekend, we should definitely do this more often, P absolutely adores her auntie 🥰

Comment liked by y/nverstappen

charles_leclerc it was very nice we got to hang out together☺

Comment liked by y/nverstappen

sharllekler this guy makes me cringe so hard but it's so endearing, like did he pull all his girlfriend's by being awkward? 😭

sixteenleclerc girl have you seen y/n? She's got something that'll make most men awkward as fuck

victoriaverstappen so sad we couldn't join you two this year

y/nverstappen we should already plan for next year then 😉

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y/nverstappen

📍 Amsterdam, the Netherlands

liked by landonorris, kellypiguet and 201,432 others

y/nverstappen protect your peace 🌸

view all 999 comments

bananaclerc hey, yes, hi..I'd like to be you 😭

norrisoscar I've only known this woman for a week but I'm already obsessed with her

keirarobins do I spy new products for the store? 👀

y/nusername keep an eye open 😉

zhou_ey I don't know if I want to be you or if I want to be with you 😭

sannetje is that my hat?

y/nverstappen don't know what you're talking about..

sannetje sure..

landonorris I need that candle

maxv1 boy go to her store lmao, this is no webshop 💀

landonorris 🔥

grussell63 man I really thought you had more game than this..who taught you this, Charles? 😢

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taglist

@hockeyboysarehot @beatricemiruna @starwarssavy23 @be-your-coffee-pot

#lando norris x reader #lando norris x you #lando norris au #lando norris smau #lando norris fanfic #lando x reader #ln4

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aliciavance4228 · 2 months

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The Odyssey: Funny Moments

Most of you liked my "The Iliad: Funny Moments" post, so I decided to make this one as well.

1. When Telemachus asks Odysseus what kind of help they have for taking down the suitors, Odysseus basically says, "We've got Zeus and Athena on our side. Are you sure that'll be enough?"

2. "Brother, who blinded you?" "Nobody! Nobody did!" "...Then we're going to go back to sleep."

Taken to the logical extreme in a comic book adaptation where Odysseus and his men gave him fake names:

"Brother, who blinded you?"

"Nobody! Idontknow! Idontcare! Or maybe... Idontremember!"

"So that's why they called him Polyfool."

3. After his crew opened the bag of winds thinking it had treasure and caused a huge storm, Odysseus briefly considers suicide as valid as an option to preserving through hardship.

4. The sheer, mind-boggling, testicle-shriveling amount of crap that Odysseus and his crew get put through when trying to get back to Ithaca can be viewed as hilarious in a cringe comedy kind of way. By the time Odysseus gets home and realizes that his wife has been badgered and harangued by suitors for a decade one could be forgiven for thinking that his wanton slaughter of them all was less about their violation of guest rights and more just blowing off some steam on a morally unambiguous target.

5. When briefly visiting the Underworld, Persephone allows Odysseus to talk with his mother and other dead people. Odysseus is absolutely terrified of her and dreads staying too long and incurring her wrath, running back to his ship fearful that she'll sic Medusa's head on him.

6. One of Odysseus's crew randomly dies by falling off a roof after a night of heavy drinking. Everyone else gets to be killed by horrible monsters and the wrath of the gods, but he instead gets to be a posthumous reminder about the dangers of alcoholism. Even better, after his death he berates Odysseus for not burying him properly when our hero goes to Hades!

7. On the way back to Ithaca, Telemachus asks a favor of Nestor's son Pisistratus, and proceeds to invoke two generations of friendship to get some help dodging Nestor's aggressive hospitality.

8. Penelope asks a disguised Odysseus to interpret a dream she had. It turns out that during the dream, one of its characters explicitly explained what it all represented, and Odysseus just repeats it back to her.

9. While disguised as a human, Athena goes to the trouble of giving a plausible explanation for her departure... then promptly blows her cover by turning into a bird and flying away in front of a boggling Nestor and Telemachus.

10. Penelope's tricks against the suitors, of which the two best known are:

At one point, she told the suitors she'd choose her next husband after she'd finish weaving a burial shroud for Odysseus's father Laërtes... And every night, she'd undo her work. She strung them along for three years and would have continued had an unfaithful maid not exposed her.

On page we see her daring them to replicate one of Odysseus's feats: she put twelve axes on the ground so that the rings in the handle would align and gave them Odysseus' unstrung bow and arrows, and told them that whoever could use that bow toshoot an arrow through all the rings would be her next husband.She also forgot to tell them it was a recurve bow that the suitors wouldn't even recognize when at rest, let alone string.

A lesser-known ploy is when she calls out the suitors for freeloading off her husband's estate instead of courting her with lavish gifts. They rush to present her with gifts, while the disguised Odysseus watches with delight.

11. Athena's response when Odysseus fails to recognize her in disguise and tells her a backstory he came up with on the spot is essentially "That's my liar! There he is!"

Credits: TV Tropes

#greek gods #greek mythology #the odyssey

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lucidfallacy · 8 days

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Shame (Stalker Ghost x Reader 18+)

You have always been the type to let curiosity get the best of you. A certified button pusher as your comrades would say. You thrive in gossip and high tensions. But little do they really know about your dire urge to consume their dark secrets. That urge quickly ate away at you, evolving until nothing was off-limits. You want access to their social media accounts, camera rolls, and most of all: their search history. Over time, you acquired the means to do so with simple spyware. And the best part is that there's absolutely no paper trail.

Your hobby originally started with a seemingly harmless prank. Still, they granted you no mercy. Months ago, your fellow soldiers took it upon themselves to drunkenly raid your room one night, stringing up your lacy underwear and bras flag-style along the boot camp's pole. The colorful fabrics waved around in the wind as you rubbed your eyes in disbelief.

Lieutenant Ghost wouldn't even give you the chance to take them down before training. So, the already cold morning run that followed was tainted by occasional snickers and vulgar comments. Your least favorite emotion is embarrassment, and they had no problem wringing it out of you. Embarrassment leaves a mental scar you'll lie awake cringing about into the wee hours of the night. It's a memory that'll haunt you until you die, and surely won't live down as long as you're enlisted.

The men on base love fronting with these indomitable personas. But oh, the humiliating shit you've seen. You remember that very first adrenaline high you got after snooping through a colleague's emails. The average person could never guess that he's secretly a pay pig. Thousands of dollars had been routed to random camgirls, demanding him to address them as mistresses. And he gladly obliged. You contemplated forwarding the exchanges to the man's girlfriend back home, but you decided to save it for a special occasion. 'Maybe, right before Christmas', you thought. Instead, you uttered just one random girl's username in his ear on an early morning before training, making his eyes go wide and lips pale. And so, your barracks chores have been spotlessly completed for you ever since.

Usually, the victims you choose from consist of the men on your task force, but sometimes other people are dumb enough to air themselves out anyway. However, there's one man you haven't quite figured out yet and he has done a proper job of pissing you off today. His nitpicking seems endless like making you run extra laps or having to stay late and help him complete paperwork. Needless bullshit basically. When you first joined the force, you hated to admit it but you had an unwelcome attraction to him. Your ranks would never allow that sort of relationship anyway, and you consider him to be more of a cocky prick now. Even if you still find yourself giving into your pitiful desires when you turn in almost every night. So what? Never will you forget how amused he looked as your very specific black lingerie set saluted him on the flagpole. For all you know, the whole charade could've been his idea. That's why you've just been waiting for Ghost to fuck up for a while now.

After finishing an early dinner at the mess hall, intuition sparked your senses as you see the man himself rushing into the Corporal's office and slamming the doors behind him. Perfect timing. You decide to take a scenic route back to our room, sauntering over to Ghost's neck of the woods. The hall is long, coated in a hospital-like dim blue flickering light. The far-off conversations of the other diners fizzle out until there's only a deafening silence accompanying you. Reaching the end of the hall you glance around, a light sweat glistening on your temple. You wrap your hand in your shirt, slightly pulling on his door handle. Creak. Bingo. Your fingers slip in between the Lieutenant's ajar dorm door, a very rare occurrence for him to leave something unlocked. Whatever the circumstance, it's your lucky day.

So you slink in, sliding your back against the door to close it gently. You swallow hard, having trouble focusing because of the admittedly mouthwatering musk of his room. Like cedar and rain. And just as you thought, 3 monitors glow from across the room on his cluttered desk. Each one is unlocked and just sitting on the desktop's homepage. Dumbass. A sea of yellow file boxes line the screens making you itch in anticipation. The light illuminates a path, urging you to explore his uncharted territory. Sitting in his gaming chair of a throne, you contemplate what to do first. 'I wonder what kind of vanilla shit this guy watches... Or maybe not,' you unabashedly thought, smirking as your hand finds the mouse.

You scan around each file, joking to yourself about finding some top-secret folder for the nuclear launch codes. But your wrist seems to freeze over a file, smack dab in the middle of the first monitor. (First initial/Last Initial Cameras) is spelled out in small bolded letters. Your brows furrow in confusion. 'Maybe that's short for...' *double click* Your thoughts escape you as all three screens cut to black. You didn't know quite what to expect out of this man, but shit... The nausea sets in as you realize precisely why curious cats always end up dead. 6 boxes stretch across each of the screens. The first is your room, a direct shot of your perfectly tucked-in sheets and not-so-secret plushie laid across your pillows. A perfect view of your pajamas from this morning is still pooled on the floor.

The next box is a shot of your closet door, hung wide open and... Oh my God. A tall dark figure wades at the opening, hand outstretched and filtering through your abundance of non-military clothes. Their hand settles on the backend of the rack, thumbing over the fabric of your skimpy silk nightdresses. Every passing moment sends you into a deeper spiral of second guesses and excuses. 'Everyone must have cameras in their room. Yeah. Random bed checks must be happening now and...' your thoughts trail off, other shaking hand covering your mouth as the figure pulls out a buzzing phone from their back pocket. As they turn to face you, the cell's white light exposes the intruder's identity.

Ghost's unmistakable dark eyes meet yours through the screen, the half skull masking his face already being a dead enough giveaway. He's always been hard to read, but in this moment, he dawns the expression of a panther who has just locked onto its prey. 'It's like he knows-' you think to yourself as the Lieutenant's finger smashes against his phone screen. The cameras cut out, leaving an eerie TV static across the monitors. Panicked is too calm of a descriptor to explain what you are feeling right now. You're fucked. But you have to try and hide at least. You look around frantically for an answer. 'Okay, this hall is a dead end, the room has no windows... what about under the bed?' Boots begin to echo from down the hall. Each step is like the ticking countdown of a clock, building onto your already heightened anxiety.

Well, it's a long shot, but it's all you can think of. You rush behind the door, attempting to calm your labored breathing while sucking in your body to fit flush against the wall. 'I'm dead, I'm fucking dead. My last meal was potato soup and I didn't even get to call my mom like I said-' The heavy boots come to a halt, your eyes clench so tightly that colors begin to dance around behind your lids. In a sudden motion, the handle twists. With a light kick, Ghost opens the door. It swings just short of your turned head, body still desperately trying to fit. You could hear a pin drop in the next continent over from how devastatingly quiet it is. Your core is on fire from keeping your body stiff and barely having any air support. But still, Ghost remains on the other side, scanning the room as he once again wrestles his phone from his pocket. You hear the clicking of his passcode, the screen light hugging the around doorframe as if it's trying to give you away. Then it goes blue... just like the screens were before. You hear something like a recording. It mimics the way you clamored out of the rolling chair, how it screeched to slide across the linoleum flooring.

The phone turns off with a click, just before he tosses it, landing with a loud thud on his desk. You avert your eyes for just a moment flinching at the noise, so startled you didn't notice the way his gloved fingers slowly wrapped around the door just above your unknowing head. Ghost slams the door shut, the impact sounding like a gunshot was fired right by your head. You yelp, ducking to dodge his grasp and run away, but you aren't quite quick enough. No matter where you run, or how hard you fight back, his grip on your wrists as you're pinned against the concrete wall is a reminder that he will always be one step ahead. His shadow envelops you as your jaw cranes upward to meet his intense gaze. And there is no denying how different the atmosphere is between you two. Your jugular beats faster and his pupils dilate as they study yours fervently. You've been caught, finally ensnared by the consequences of your dumb little hobby.

"Oh? Not gonna run that loose fuckin' mouth, huh?" he teases, his voice a delicious gravelly whisper.

"N- No sir, Lieutenant sir!" you stammer out, high-pitched and attempting to stand at attention. But he has complete control of your every movement, every sinful thought. Your brows knit together as you try and regain your sense of self, putting together the serrated pieces connecting who this man is and what he's capable of. But your rationality is quickly depleting as you squirm in his embrace.

"I'll-" you begin.

Ghost hooks a thumb into your cheek like a fish, exploring your cavity and cutting your opposing thoughts short.

"You'll what? Kill me, love? Go on, fight me then," Ghost taunts. Without hesitation, you bite the meat of his palm, making him hiss out. But he only presses into you further, his hard cock stretching across the length of your hip and begging to be released. "Just a love bite, yeah? Gonna give up and let me fuck you? Just like that?"

"You're fucking insane," you spit, trying your damnedest to seem menacing.

"And who's fault is that?" he cuts, forcing your hands higher in a single crushing fist. "Cut the shit- You think yer so cute, trampsin' 'round 'ere in those tight ass fatigues. Bitchin' at me every chance you get." He leans closer into the crook of your neck, taking in the scent. "Comin' undone with yer fingers every single god damned night," he says frustratingly through gritted teeth.

You suck in a sharp breath.

"I wasn't- how was I-" you whine, skin flushed a peony pink.

"You've been so good to me (Y/N)," he praises. His other arm locks around your waist, thigh pushing up under your already throbbing pussy. You groan from the contact. "Remind me, who's name has been rolling off that pretty little tongue of yours?" he questions.

"I'm sorry-" you apologize, almost tearful.

"Say it love- just like you did when I was fistin' my cock to ya last night," he urges, grinding up against your clothed clit and eliciting a moan.

"Ghost!" you whimper hoarsely. You're in a feverish dream state, unsure of when or how your relationship took such a deviant turn. But hell, somehow within all of the secrets you've uncovered in the past couple of months the biggest one was under your nose all along. His obsession. He catches you off guard, pinching your nipple through the material that separates you.

"No, no" he laughs. "Not that one, you little fuckin' creep."

'Oh, I'm the creep?,' your thought simmers. It may be true that you did some digging to find his real name. Why? You couldn't explain it. But it felt so good in your mouth, that it's made itself at home in your nightly vocabulary. And now your pussy clenches as he twists harder. 'Maybe we are both fuckin' creeps.'

"Simon..." you quiver with shame and arousal.

Ghost hoists you over his shoulder without warning, letting you kick your legs about in defense as he squeezes you close. He throws you into his unmade sheets, not giving you a single moment to catch your bearings. In a flash, his gloved hands are wrapped around your ankles flipping you every which way. He rips and tears at the fabrics that clothe you. Your black tank top, and the khaki camouflaged pants, both laying in tatters on the floor. Now you lay only two garments away from naked, nipples already perked up under your bra from the chilled temperature of his dark room. And what do you know, it's that pretty little black set he's been dying to catch you in. The faint grey of the monitors cast a sultry backlight on his imposing stature.

"Holy shit love'," he groans as he guides your ankles to his shoulders, nuzzling against them. Ghost palms over the soaked center of your panties, admiring how hopeless you've become. "I'll buy ya' lots more, promise," he claims, wanting to support the pretty little secrets hiding under your uniforms.

Your body stiffens when his fingers dip into your panty line. He toys with you, rubbing back and forth with his knuckles underneath your navel. Your abs tremble, back arching into his gentle but suggestive touch.

"Pick a number," he finally says, filling in the silence.

But you think you know this game. You think you know what he's playing at. But you don't.

"One...I- just one," you say swallowing nervously. But your nerves aren't settled as a grumbling laugh builds in his chest.

"How sweet- givin' me a whole hour to do whatever I want," he tells you, grabbing the fat of your hips and flipping you onto your stomach.

You swear you can hear the inflection in his voice as he bears a shit-eating grin under that fucking mask. But your thoughts about his face are whisked away when he yanks your ass up into a high arch. He slides your laced panties to the side and parts your folds, sliding your slick around to flick over your sensitive bud. And the friction of his gloves is driving you insane. Insane enough that you're a slack-jawed pathetic moaning mess, wobbly legs pressing back against his hold. And then just as you become a bit comfortable, Ghost plants a stinging slap across your pussy, making you rigid.

"I've seen how you like it doll," he says laying another firm slap across your ass and dripping cunt. "Like a fuckin' whore." Hot tears well up in your eyes as your face is pressed into the mattress, muffling your cries. "Don' cry, you still have 3 more, 'kay?" he reassures. His hand travels from the side of your ass cheek and begins to fumble with his belt. He exhales a strained breath as he frees himself, his silky hot cock slapping against the back of your thigh. Ghost's precum is already smeared around his head, painting across your bare skin.

His next hit is personal, surely strong enough to leave a slight bruise as his fingers dig into your cheek to hold you in place. But this kind of twisted intimacy is what makes you feel alive.

"That's fer goin' through my shit," he barks, wasting no time delivering an equally intense strike across your opposite cheek. "That's for torturin' me for months, slut," Ghost admits.

As you brace yourself, you arch further, legs spread to accept it. But instead, Ghost lines up his head with your entrance. Violently splitting you open with a grunt, so forcefully that your body goes lax into the mattress from his weight. He gathers a fistful of your hair as if they are reigns. His lips graze the cartilage of your ear as he wrenches back, making you shudder.

"And that's for makin' me fuckin' crazy."

He's relentless. Ghost holds you up with one veiny forearm underneath your stomach, reaching around to find your clit and rub you in rhythm with his brutal fucking. Ghost's cock stretches and fills, it dominates and complicates. You'll forever remember how it curves, how the veins pulse inside you. His hips collide into the flesh of your ass like another form of a brutal spanking. It's the only sound you can hear other than the rush of blood ringing in your ears.

Ghost pinches your bud, rolling it around before rubbing small circles with two gloved fingers. Your voice has trouble escaping you as you lay contorted at his will on the verge of orgasm. He sounds heavenly deranged, blessing you with filthy curses and compliments on how tight you squeeze around him. He begins panting even louder as he ruts into you, like a desperate dying man.

"I should take you out- fuck you on the dining table," he grunts out between thrusts. "Yeah. You'd like that, huh? Making them watch you cum on my cock."

All you can do is scream into his fingers as his other hand clamps around your nose and mouth, stealing your oxygen. The truth is, now that he has you, he'll ruin you. He's planning on fucking you day in and day out, making it almost impossible to sit or walk. Hell, you won't even look at another man the same way after the way he's altered your chemistry.

You get an unfamiliar sensation in your core, but it's no use trying to stop it. Ghost applies just enough kneading pressure, like he's carefully studied the way your body responds when you touched yourself all those times before. Your mind goes numb as you drench each other, knees buckling in a full-body burnout. As you scream into the mattress, your cunt chaotically spasms. You grip around him tighter, making each of his ragged thrusts more difficult.

Ghost suddenly pulls out, leaving you empty and needy for his warmth. He just snickers as you whine, your pussy desperately trying to guide its way back onto him. You need him to flood your cervix, to deeply take his cock as it convulses. You want to revel in the mess as the cum drips out of you, uncaring of the oncoming consequences. He strategically flips over your limp sweat sweat-covered body, flicking his index finger across your oversensitive bundle of nerves. Your eyes go wide as you cry out, excited from the shock and fear of what he plans to do next. Ghost's chest heaves up and down, a sinister look glittering in his void-like pupils. He turns his wrist, tongue clicking as he registers the time on his watch.

"Would you look at that... Still got thirty more minutes~"

#fanfic #call of duty #cod smut #ghost cod #ghost x reader #fanfiction #stalker ghost #ghost smut #smut

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cowgurrrl · 1 year

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What's In A Name?

Pairing: Matt Murdock x fem!reader

Author’s note: hey remember when I said I was rewatching daredevil

Summary: You settle on a new nickname for Matthew [1.3k]

Warnings: fluff, lawyer talk, brief mention of Jack, Daredevil things, June’s first time writing Matt so pls be nice, I think that’s it??

He's realized it changes depending on the day. You refer to him in court as your colleague, Mr. Murdock, or even Counselor. You call him Murdock to get his attention or scold him for something. That Idiot in The Mask before you find out about his nightly escapades. That Idiot in The Mask after you find out about his nightly escapades. But more often than not, when he climbs into bed after a long night of being That Idiot, your eyes flutter open, and you murmur a soft "Matthew" before snuggling into him.

Foggy and Karen make fun of you for using his full name more often than Matt, which is undeniably faster and punchier. Every once in a while, you'll pull Franklin out to make Foggy cringe and accuse you of sounding like his mother. Their teasing does nothing to stop you from calling him Matthew. It's the name in your phone, the name you punch in braille in his birthday cards, the name you use to introduce him to others, everything.

It also helps to conceal the specifics of your relationship from other lawyers who may get nosy and try to use your relationship against you in a court of law. What girlfriend wouldn't call her boyfriend by a nickname? The kind of girlfriend who went through seven years of school and refuses to have her JD called into question just because she went into practice with her boyfriend and best friends.

The good thing is he doesn't seem to mind you calling him Matthew. It's very rare that the name doesn't grate on his ears, but when it falls from your lips, it's warm and welcome like the first sunny day after a harsh New York winter. The question, however, comes on a chilly October evening while sitting with socked feet on the couch and working through closing statements.

"Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, you have heard many pieces of information throughout the past few weeks. Many of them circumstantial," you read to him as you scribble the notes on a yellow legal pad. His hand is resting on your thigh, tracing patterns into your soft leggings, and cocks his head in your direction to show you he's listening. "However, you have also heard from my client-"

"Our client." Matt interrupts, and you look up at him. His tinted glasses are resting on the coffee table amid scattered case notes and copies of evidence, and his brown eyes are cast vaguely in your direction. When you first started dating, he told you people were uncomfortable with his bouncing, unfocusing eyes, and that's why he hadn't taken off his glasses in front of you. Since then, it's been a steady journey of reassuring him how much you love him, love all of him. The fact that all these years later, he's sitting without shame and without his glasses is enough to make your heart soar.

"Is O'Reilly also the jury's client?"

"No, but there are multiple defense attorneys on this case."

"Okay, so what if I gesture to you when I say it?" You ask, and the corner of Matt's mouth quirks up.

"'M sure that'll look very professional, sweetheart." He says, amusement in his tone, and you roll your eyes as you look back down at the paper.

"I'm just gonna say 'my client.'"

"Fine, but I'm telling Foggy."

"Oh, c'mon, we both know you've claimed clients and cases as your own. It's not a big deal."

"I have not!"

"I will pull court transcripts right now."

"Maybe I should be the one to give closing statements." He teases and tries to reach for your papers. You rip them out of his reach and drop them on the floor when he tickles your sides. You laugh and try to fight against his strong hands, but he grabs both your wrists in one hand and tickles you with the other.

"Okay, okay, that's enough." You beg between breathless giggles, and his merciless attack on your stomach stops as fast as it started. The apartment falls silent as he lays half on top of you with your legs bracketing his sides. His hair is soft and a little too long, flopping over his forehead and hiding a yellowing bruise, and his full lips are pulled into a perfect smile that you can't help but kiss. He hums against your lips and releases your wrists, letting your hands graze his waist, narrowly avoiding sore ribs. You feel a full breath fill his lungs before he pulls away and rests his forehead on yours.

"We're never gonna finish closing statements like this." He mumbles, his voice raspy, and you shrug.

"Prosecution barely has a case. We'll be fine," you say as you scratch his back. "Besides, I always make closing statements my bitch."

"Can't argue with that." He laughs, and you hum in agreement. It's getting late. The sights and sounds of the city have dimmed just enough to tell you that people have made it home from their work days, settling into dinner and bedtime routines with their families. A certain red suit hidden in the closet pricks at the forefront of your mind, and you take a deep breath.

You knew what you signed up for when you met Matt in your legal history class during your second year at Columbia. You'd had several long-winded conversations with him about defending the working man, upholding the law, and the importance of order in a chaotic world. You knew dating him also meant sharing him with his job, no matter what it was. Still, you never expected his part-time job to be beating up criminals in dark alleys after you went to bed.

"Wanna order Thai from that place down the block and keep working, or do you need to go?" You ask, and he shakes his head.

"'M good."

"You sure?"

"I like working with you." He says sincerely, and a ball of light shines in your chest. You have to fight the smile threatening the corner of your mouth, and you know he can feel it.

"Are you just saying that cause you want me to change my wording?" You ask, and he laughs. He ducks his head to kiss your jaw before straightening back up, not letting himself get too distracted by the taste of your skin.

"No, I'm saying that because I love hearing you make closing statements your bitch."

"Good answer, Matthew." You tap his side, and he kisses you again before sitting back to let you get up and retrieve your phone from the counter. You type in the restaurant's name, your mouth watering at the thought of Pad Thai, and walk over to the back of the couch. Matt leans into you the second you're close enough, and even though you don't have super senses like him, you know he's thinking hard about something.

"You know you may be the only person in the world who calls me Matthew on a regular basis?" He asks out of the blue, and you look up from your phone. His hand finds its way to your waist and tugs you closer until your hips are flush against the couch. You indulge in his sudden neediness by running your free hand through his hair.

"What'd your dad call you?" You ask quietly. A soft chuckle escapes him, and he tilts his head at you.

"Matty."

"Matty," you try to nickname on your tongue and smile. "Gotta give it to Battlin' Jack, that's a pretty good one."

"I'm sure he'd agree with you." He says, the gentle ache of grief settling over the space. You lean down and kiss his head in reverence, like you're thanking him for sharing the memory with you. The feeling dissolves once you get back into closing statements and arguing about wording over steaming piles of food, but the name sticks in your brain. His contact name in your phone goes from Matthew to Matty. You let yourself call him Matty a handful of times to test it out, and somehow, the transition between names doesn't faze either of you. It feels good, intimate almost. Something just for the two of you.

Hell's Kitchen can have Daredevil all they want as long as Matty is the one coming home to you.

#matt murdock #matt murdock x fem!reader #matt murdock fluff #matt murdock fic #matt murdock one shot #matt murdock blurb #matt murdock x reader #daredevil #daredevil fic #daredevil x reader

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emmyrosee · 1 year

Note

there's something about atsumu being all pouty and sulky that makes him more adorable. (please i love him so much) i just watched a TikTok video of a married couple and this ask is based on this. so what if after an argument, you being atsumu's wife doesn't cook enough food for three (three bcs u have a daughter who has her uncle samu's appetite. and yes, bcs im a sucker for dad atsumu au) and just told him to cook for himself or order takeout or something bcs u didn't think that he'll eat at home. please 🥺 i just wanna see his reaction 👀

*the argument is about him not wanting to go home (poor boy says he needs to practice more) after you text and call him a hundred times bcs it's past practice time. so the next evening, you didn't cook food that'll be enough for the three of you.

NO WAIT PAUSE IM OBSESSED WITH THIS-

also im so glad you’re a sucker for the dad/uncle au bc same HA-

I know damn well in that pretty head of Atsumu’s that he does, try his hardest to be home for dinner. Always one to be accounted for, always there beside you, mowing down on the food you’d either spent the entire day cooking, or grabbing after your errands.

But for the past few nights, he just. Hasn’t.

He’s been with the boys, or staying overtime at practice, or hanging out with Osamu because he could always use a set of hands, and for some reason, rather than just telling you this, he doesn’t. He leaves you to figure it out for yourself.

It leads to a pretty nasty spat, thankfully one Hisako was asleep for, about you just wanting a text so you know that you don’t have to look forward to enjoying dinner with him (okay. A little cruel, but he had it coming!) or setting an extra plate. It made him snarl out how ‘he’s a grown man’ and ‘he can make his own dinner plans’ and ‘take care of his damn self without you,’ and you felt your heart sink to the base of your chest.

He sighs softly, “I didn’t mean that-“

“Then take care of yourself,” you snap, turning on your heel to get ready for bed. Even though there’s some half choked apologies that fall from both of your lips, you make the conscious decision to stop trying so hard.

If he wasn’t going to appreciate the work you go out of your way to do for him to enjoy a hot meal, then why put it forward? No need to shell out the extra effort when he’s not going to do his own part.

Especially tonight, as your table sets and vegetables stop cooking, your damn husband still isn’t home.

Whatever. Asshole.

Surely, it’s fine. It seems fine. Hisako inhales the food with extreme excitement, you pick at your own while she recounts the events of her day. Gotta hand it to her, she’s a damn entertaining kid, able to distracted you from the hurt of Atsumu potentially taking your words to heart and indeed, taking care of himself.

She prompts the end of her dinner with an enthusiastic kiss to your cheek- a trait she learned from her father- before toddling into the living room to play with her toys. You smile softly at the sight, bittersweet as you move to start the dishes, trying to get through them as a quick as possible before Atsumu comes home and sees the dinner not made for him.

This is another instance, however, that you’re having the piss taken out of you, and Atsumu comes home in the middle of your chores. You cringe softly as the front door opens, he sighs dramatically, and you head the happiness in his voice when he chirps a quick “where’re my girls!”

You whimper in the back of your throat and plaster a smile, still trying to hide the hurt in your features.

“Hey my love,” Atsumu says, voice strained from sighing happily, before laxing out to kiss you. “Where’s the boss of us?”

You smile and pucker your lips for a brief, almost uninterested kiss, and you watch as his body language tenses. “She’s in the living room playing with her toys. I was going to give her a bath once I finished the dishes.”

“I can do that, dollface,” he chuckles. “If you want to relax, or get started on her bath you can.” He happily hooks his head over your shoulder and nuzzles into you softly. “I gotta eat first anyways, so I can take care of the dishes.”

You tense up as he lifts his head with a happy inhale, “smells great in here. What did you make?”

In confusion, you give him a look over your shoulder. “I… made curry in the pressure cooker, and some rice and fried some eggs for us.” He groans happily and quickly dashes to the fridge to open and search for the extras, only for his face to fall once he turns up empty handed.

“Did… you both polish it off?”

“I only made enough for two, and with your daughter having an appetite like her uncle I almost didn’t have enough-“

“But…”

“What?”

“You… you didn’t cook enough for me?”

You scoff and continue to scrub the plates, “since you clearly had no intentions of updating me on what you’d be doing tonight, I figured I had no use in cooking more than Hisako and I could eat. Leftovers go to waste in this house anyways.”

He pauses, and you hear his socked feet padding around the tiled floors, trying to piece together his thoughts and approach this. You continue to wash the dishes, but the signals in your brain cross as two long arms wrap around your waist, a head burrowing into the curve of your neck.

“‘Tsumu-“

“I meant to text you,” he murmurs, curling up as close to you as he can. “I swear. Tonight, I wanted to come home and eat dinner with you, and watch a movie with ‘Sako, but I guess I just forgot to when Bokuto wanted to practice a little bit more…” one of the arms wrapped around your waist moves up to gently cup your jawline, angling your head to look at the golden eyes curved in distress. “But as soon as I realized I came right home, I didn’t even think of it. Please, don’t be mad at me… it was an accident this time, I swear.”

You sigh and lean over to nudge your nose with his, “I’m not mad at you, baby. You just… you hurt my feelings last night; you can’t tell me you don’t appreciate the work I do, then come home and pout about the work I didn’t do. That’s rude, it’s shitty of you.”

“I know,” he says softly, lowering his eyes. In thought for a moment, he then rises his gaze back up to you with a hopeful smile, “can I have a kiss at least?”

You snicker and roll your eyes, “you may have one kiss, and if you play your cards right, I’ll doctor up some instant noodles for you.”

He beams happily up at you and leans up to steal a kiss, the hand on your cheek stroking the warm skin lovingly, “I like the sound of that.”

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thatfreshi · 1 year

Text

"Tough Crowd" (Uni AU P. 1)

Really embracing the catty queerness of these fuckers LMAO. Anyways, here's our little intro to Ravenguard Univeristy and Tav's living situation :)

Tw - mention of alcohol

@justporo (If you want me to tag you in part two, leave a comment!)

It's finally move-in day. After getting your Associate's degree at some small-town community college, you finally transferred to Ravenguard University, probably through sheer luck. Perhaps someone dropped out of the waitlist, but you're here now, moving into the place that'll be your home for the upcoming semesters. Soon enough you're asked for your name, and given the key to your room, quickly being ushered to the elevators. The volunteering students are clearly stressed by all the newcomers, so you don't exactly blame them for seeming impersonal.

You read your key, which has deemed you to be in room 717. Sneaking your way over to the floor buttons, you lightly tap 7, and place yourself in one of the empty corners of the elevator. After dropping off a few strangers on lower floors, you finally get to your destination, and find your dorm room shortly after. When you unlock the door, you immediately hear arguing.

"I need the room with the desk! I have far too many exams to study for. Besides, you don't seem like the studying type anyways."

Two women are yelling at each other, one with jet-black hair and the other with piercing eyes and an intimidating demeanor.

"We're all here to study fool."

"Well, as far as I know, you don't want to be a doctor. Besides, aren't you just here as an athlete? Or, my bad, were here as an athlete?"

At this point the ginger is fuming, fists clenched, but simply takes the room they were arguing over and slams the door, locking it immediately. The med student slams her fist on the door.

"Just wait til I tell the RA about this Lae'zel!"

She sighs, clearly still trying to let go of her anger. When she turns from the closed door, she finally realizes you're standing there.

"Sorry about that. Roommate problems, am I right?"

The pale woman nervously chuckles. Dressed in all black, she looks ready for a funeral, well if funerals were comfy and full of college students.

"Uh, yeah. Please don't tell me you're going to be arguing like this every night."

"Well, her and I don't particularly get along. I'm surprised housing even let us be in the same room after how many issues we've had. Though I'm sure I'll learn to tolerate her better in our living situation."

The woman ponders the thought for a moment, and then her eyes light up.

"I forgot to introduce myself. I'm Shadowheart, and yes my parents are hippies. Most people call me Shadow since it's less cringe."

"Well, nice to meet you. Please tell me there's a room I can snag that you aren't fighting about."

"Oh, go down the hall and to the right. That one has a bigger wardrobe, but Lae and I both really wanted the desk."

Your phone vibrates, with a notification from some online magazine.

'Szarr: The Seven Models Behind the Magic'

"Why has this man been doing so many interviews?"

Shadowheart's ears perk up.

"You know Szarr, that fashion guy right? He's been all over the news, I cannot escape it."

"Oh. You may want to be careful how you talk about him. One of his precious prodigies goes here. Kind of a bitch honestly."

She makes a fake throw-up noise, rolling her eyes.

"Wait. One of his models goes here? I assumed they were all full-time."

"He's full-time alright. I've never seen Astarion pause for anything other than himself. Anyways, I suppose I need to unpack my things IN THE ROOM WITHOUT A DESK."

Shadowheart yells the last part loud enough for Lae'zel to hear, which coerces a groan from her behind the locked door. And just like that, she's locked away in her own room, leaving you with the room at the end of the hall. At least it has the nice wardrobe? You put on some music and start to unpack all your bags, soaking in the space. It leaves some to be desired, but you're excited nonetheless. You're woken from the trance however when there's a very loud knock at your dorm door. You wait for a moment, hoping one of the other two will get it, but the knocking simply continues obnoxiously. Making your way to the front door with a scowl on your face, you throw it open.

"Floor meeting in thirty minutes. If you or any of your roommates are late, I'll kill you."

You're met with the topic of your previous conversation: Astarion. While you aren't necessarily into fashion, you've seen so much about this guy as of recent, mostly from people thirsting on Twitter. You almost laugh, knowing Shadowheart will be pissed when she hears that he's the RA for their floor. He doesn't wait for you to respond and simply walks down to the next room. After closing the door, you call for your new gossipy friend.

"Oh Shadow, I have wonderful news!"

She opens her door and leans in the frame.

"Please tell me I heard that voice wrong."

"Nope. I guess if you want to complain about Lae'zel, you'll have to see your favorite person!"

She lets out a heavy sigh.

"Fine. I guess I'll just deal with her. Better the devil you know than the devil you don't."

You knock on Lae'zel's door to tell her about the meeting, but you're simply met with a yell of 'I know!'

"Geez, tough crowd."

"She's the toughest crowd you'll meet. Don't ever try to impress her, you'll die trying."

Shadowheart gives you this slice of advice while putting her hair in a black claw clip.

The next thirty minutes pass by quickly as you decorate the walls of your room. Posters, little pieces of art, pictures of friends from home. When you leave the room to go to the floor meeting, you're met with the overlapping voices of everyone from floor seven, clearly annoyed that they have to be here. You and Shadowheart sit on a couch in the common area, and Lae'zel stands off to the side.

"Okay, I'm going to make this quick."

The room gets quiet quickly as Astarion speaks up, pushing his shades down his nose slightly so he can make intense eye contact with anyone who interrupts him.

"I'm your RA for the year. No, I will not answer your calls. If I'm sleeping, you better not wake me up. I do not care if you have an air fryer in your room, but if you burn down the university I will be pissed. To make it entirely clear, I'm only doing this to make a little extra cash, so do not expect me to be, how do you say... present."

The room is silent, both pleased that he doesn't seem to care and entirely annoyed by his attitude.

"Any questions?"

Once again, no one speaks.

"Great! If you truly need something, I would suggest you go to the RA on floor eight, my wonderful friend Gale, as he actually cares about the well-being of strangers. Good day!"

The large group mutters as they all make their way back to their rooms. Shadowheart turns to whisper to you.

"Oh Gale fucking hates him, and I guarantee you he didn't sign off on being the RA of two floors. Can't wait to see that catfight."

You laugh at her comment, not noticing the white-haired man approaching the two of you.

"Shadowheart."

"Astarion."

"Who's your new friend?"

She then realizes she never actually asked your name.

"Tav. It's Tav."

Astarion makes a noise that lies somewhere between a laugh and a scoff.

"Fascinating. Well Tav, how would you like to be my plus-one to a party tonight? I would ask our emo queen here, but I'm sure she has some sulking and studying to do already."

"And I thought you'd be selling out on another Instagram post, but I guess you just really love bothering people. Have fun though, if you even know how to do that."

And with that comment. Shadowheart is back off to her room, most likely to sulk and study like Astarion said.

"Ugh, don't mind her. She just doesn't understand the hustle. Anyways, Tav was it? You seem like just the kind of person I'd love to silently drink champagne with."

You're silent for a moment, unsure if he really is as bad as Shadowheart makes him out to be.

"The champagne is free by the way."

What better way to sell a broke college student on a night out?

"Alright, guess I'm in."

#baldur's gate 3 #astarion x reader #astarion x tav #au #shadowheart #lae'zel #astarion #gale of waterdeep #freshiau

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bcbdrums · 5 months

Text

A familiar sound caught Shego's ear, and she redirected her steps toward Drakken's room. As she drew nearer and the sound became clear, she cringed and her steps became more cautious as she approached his bathroom.

Sure enough, when she pushed the door open with one hand and peered into the brightly-lit room, she found Drakken where she expected to: clad in only pajama pants and white t-shirt, kneeling next to the toilet, and with his arms folded over the seat and his face pressed down into them. His black hair fell all around him and dangerously near the edge of the bowl, concealing his face. Though Shego didn't think she needed to see to know what expression he would be wearing.

Drakken's body ached. From his head to his toes, every limb and joint and muscle felt as if it had been put through the hardest escape from Possible ever with no opportunity of recovery. But worse than that was his stomach, which despite being emptied of all its contents still felt pressured and as if it needed to be forcibly removed from his body. But considering he had heaved until his throat was dry and only the faintest of acid came up, he had run out of options to alleviate the pain on that end, too.

He was prepared to stay there the whole night, aching head pressed into his forearms until sleep took him, but then he was roused ever-slightly from his misery by the feeling of cool fingers against his neck, tiny spots of ice grazing against the heat of his skin and soothing the pain ever so slightly as they moved, gathering his hair away from his cheeks until he felt the familiar motion of his hair being tied up at the nape of his neck.

"I told you you should stop swapping recipes with Stoppable," Shego said. "One of these days he'll send something to poison us. Like we should have done to him and the princess already."

Drakken took in the complaint, the annoyed tone to her voice. But he also took in the feeling of her hand resting upon his neck, the other checking his forehead for fever as she settled down next to him on the bathroom floor.

"I'll...send a 'special' spice along with... Nana Lipsky's apple pie recipe," he said with effort between breaths. "That'll...teach him for making me add... Pure capsaicin."

"I don't wanna know," Shego replied, her fingers combing Drakken's sweat-dampened hair back from his forehead.

He wanted to see her face; to see what expression of tenderness might be accompanying the atypical kindness and care. But he couldn't bring himself to lift his head or open his eyes, for fear the spell would break or reveal it all a dream. So he measured his breaths against the pain in his belly and the ache in his head and limbs, and let Shego's touch and presence soothe his soul.

#tw: throwing up #just mentioned tho not depicted #drakgo #drakken #drakken x shego #shego #kim possible #hello i'm sick and projecting and coping i guess #drew lipsky #ron and drakken's cooking show maybe idk

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profound-imagination · 1 year

Text

Broken Promises - Fenrys Moonbeam - Part 2

A/N: Thank you for all the love on the first part of this! A few of you have asked for a part 2 so here it is! I hope you enjoy it!❤️

W/C: 3K

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

"We can't send Elide in there alone!" You hissed at Rowan and Gavriel, Lorcan behind you, nodding his agreement. "Why not?" Elide demanded, "I can do this!" She didn't look at Lorcan. "You can't move quick enough if you have to, Gavriel's magic won't stretch that far!" You told her, throwing your hand towards Doranelle. She opened her mouth to retort but you carried on, "You're going to walk into a city of Fae and start asking about one they trained to be lethal." You gestured to the three males with you, Rowan cringed.

Elides eyes blazed as they met yours, "Then what do you suggest?" She all but spat at you. "Same plan, but I go in and ask about Fenrys." She hesitated, contemplating, but it was Lorcan that spoke, "No." You whirled on him, "No? You want to send her in there?" He didn't have a chance to respond before Gavriel did. "Fenrys revealed more to Maeve than you think when he snarled at her on the beach when she threw you, showed too much with the gentleness he picked you up with." You met the lion's tawny eyes as he continued, "If Maeve is there, and word gets to her that a human is in Doranelle asking for Fenrys she'll know it's you, she'd have marked your face as a way to keep him in line." You sighed and turned to Rowan, "We need to get them both out, we can't leave Fenrys behind." Rowan searched your eyes, "He won't leave without Connall and Connall won't leave." Lorcan said quietly, Elide glared at him as she took your hand, "We won't leave him behind, Y/N, but Aelin is the priority." Rowan's tone told you there was no room for argument.

"Where do you think you're going?" You sighed, "Leave it alone, Gavriel, I'm begging you." He shook his head as he walked out of the shadows, "It's the middle of the night Y/N and you're heading directly to that path that'll take you into Doranelle, so what's your plan?" Your eyes blazed, "I'm going to get him back." Gavriel raised an eyebrow. "I'm going to ask for an audience with the Queen and then I'm going to bargain for his freedom." He ran his hands down his face. "What are you going to bargain?" You raised an eyebrow this time "Myself. She'll know my family name, the power that lies within it." He paled, "You can't be serious?" He asked, "I'm deadly serious, she won't give up Aelin but she might give up Fenrys and then there will be four of you to go and save Aelin, one who might even know where she is." He shook his head, "This is not the way, Y/N." You threw your hands up, "I can't just sit around and do nothing!" He pulled you into his chest, "Stick with the plan, we'll get them both back."

So Elide went, and she did better than anyone of you could've imagined, coming back with not only Cairn's location, but an ally as well. You made Rowan wait, while Lorcan and Gavriel scouted, while a plan was formed.

Rowan had moved early, you supposed it was a miracle you had gotten him to wait this long. They had tried to convince you to stay in the clearing with Elide but you outrightly refused, so there you stood with Lorcan as the young Queen emerged. Lorcan was moving towards her before you'd even really registered what had happened or what was going on around you, and then there was a lion running next to her, Gavriel, and a Hawk above their heads. She collapsed as she reached you and Rowan was there in an instant, but she only said one word, one word that nearly made you sick, that cracked your heart. "Fenrys." He was still in there somewhere.

You ran, straight towards a camp you knew you wouldn't make it out of, but he was in there and you wouldn't leave him, Rowan had Aelin now and you didn't believe he'd risk going back to Fenrys. Rowan caught you around the waist and held you by your shoulders. "No." You pushed against him, "I have to go back for him, I can't leave him Rowan, I can't leave him!" You weren't sure when you started crying. "We aren't leaving him, Gavriel and I are going to get him right now, I need you to go with Lorcan, keep Aelin safe for me, I promised we wouldn't leave him." You searched his eyes, then Gavriel's who said, "He'd hate that you're crying over him, Y/N, we'll bring him back." You nodded and Rowan let you go, the two were back in the camp before you'd reached Lorcan and Aelin.

You always saw Aelin as strong, someone who would never break, she was the shore on which the waves broke, but watching her claw at herself trying to remove the irons was heartbreaking. Elide tried her best to keep Aelin calm but nothing worked and they couldn't get them off. Rowan emerged from the trees, a white wolf you'd have known anywhere limp in his arms, blood covering his fur. He placed him down gently and was at Aelin's side in a second.

"Is he?" You asked Gavriel as you approached the wolf. "No," he said grimly, "But it appears he broke the blood oath on his own, he doesn't have long, Y/N." Fresh tears fell down your cheeks. You murmured to him quietly while the others worked to free Aelin, Fenrys didn't so much as crack an eye. You felt a heat on your back and threw a look over your shoulder, Aelin, covered in flame, was walking towards you, no, not you, Fenrys. Gavriel pulled you out of the way as the flame engulfed Fenrys as well, as she knelt and cut her palm, as she offered him the blood oath and commanded him to live. His eyes opened and they blinked at one another, a silent language only the two of them knew.

It was days, maybe more before he acknowledged you, he'd followed Aelin in wolf form out of the clearing, had followed her into the cave, had slept next to her, had sat at her feet in the boat taking you to safety, he hadn't looked at you once. Elide kept glancing between the two of you, raising an eyebrow in a silent question that you didn't want to answer, because no, you weren't okay but you felt like you had no right to feel like that considering the unspeakable trauma the two of them had been through together but it was like he had forgotten you existed, maybe he had, maybe after everything they had been through you were all but a stranger to him now. Your heart clenched uncomfortably in your chest and your hand pressed the spot, willing it to loosen. "You okay, Y/N?" Gavriel asked gently, nothing but concern written on his face. You didn't get the chance to answer, Aelin had asked for the boat to stop, so it did and you were following her, Rowan, Fenrys and Gavriel into a tomb.

You told yourself it didn't matter, that you shouldn't be upset, you'd only come to make sure he was alive, you'd done that and as soon as you were back you'd set off to find Dorian and you'd leave any involvement with fae males behind as you shoved gold and jewels into your bag from your spot behind the tomb, hidden from the others. He'd told you on the beach that anything you thought he felt for you was pathetic, that he'd not meant his promises. That didn't stop the tears that fell without your permission when you heard his voice again, "I thought we'd need more pockets." You clasped your hands over your mouth to stop the sob that was crawling up your throat. Facing him in wolf form was one thing, but actually seeing his face again would be another. Gavriel came into view, his face morphing into shock as he took you in, you shook your head at him urgently as he opened his mouth to ask you what was wrong, instead he sat next to you and pulled you into his side, continuing to fill your bag with his other hand as you silently cried into his shoulder.

Elide was instantly on her feet when she saw your face when you emerged from the tomb, followed by Fenrys and Gavriel, you shook your head at her once and took your seat next to her, Fenrys taking the one opposite, still he didn't acknowledge you. In fact, you were halfway back across the ocean before he acknowledged you for the first time.

Sleep had been alluding you since Fenrys had been taken, you'd grown so used to his presence, whether as a male at your side or on the floor of your cabin as a wolf, or curled around you in the Marshes, you'd grown accustomed to the feeling of safety he brought with him. Instead of spending another night tossing and turning in your stuffy cabin you rolled out of your bunk and left as quietly as possible so you didn't disturb Elide and closed the door softly behind you, as usual at the end of the small row of cabins, a white wolf slept outside the captain's quarters where Rowan and Aelin slept and you fought the urge to scoff, you had no right to be angry and hurt you told yourself. They went through hell together and he was protecting his queen, as he should and you took yourself to the deck.

Legs through the bars, sea spray hitting your feet you let your heart hurt, you let yourself feel what you had been feeling for Fenrys and you let yourself mourn it's loss, you didn't hear him approach, you had no idea he was there until he wrapped a cloak around your shoulders and sat next to you. He said nothing, so you took the first step. "Why can't you look at me anymore?" He said nothing. "I understand it was all a lie, that you didn't mean any of it, but do you really hate me that much?" He said nothing. You tried to swallow the lump in your throat and force away the tears lining your eyes, "I don't understand why you played this game with me, was it fun for you? To break me like this?" Your voice cracked and your tears betrayed you, the silence hanging between the two of you was awkward in a way it had never been.

"I hope you can heal, Fenrys, from whatever was done to you. You didn't deserve any of it and I don't expect you to tell me, I just wanted to say that, before we get back and go our separate ways." He spoke then, "Separate ways?" You nodded. "I came after you, I should've stayed with Dorian but I came after you, so when we get back, I'll set off to find him again. I'm not needed here and I'm certainly not part of this court." He repeated your words, "You came after me?" You nodded again. "Damn near walked into Doranelle and demanded an audience with Maeve, I was going to bargain for your freedom." He paled, just like Gavriel had, "What were you going to offer her?" You stared at the side of his face, "The only thing I had, myself. She'd have known my family name, wouldn't have been able to resist it." His hands curled into fists, "Family name?" He asked, almost whispering, "Perrington," He gasped. "After I was born, in an unusual act, Dorian's father kept my mother and I at the castle, claiming his wife missed her friend. They never married my mother and father, Perrington had no claim over my mother and I, not against the King's wishes." You scrambled to explain, "I'm not one of them, at least, I don't think so, but it would've been enough, I hoped it would be enough." He faced you then, stealing the air in your lungs, "Valg princess or not, you do not trade yourself for me, ever." Without waiting for you to respond, he walked away.

Anielle, Chaol's home, you wondered to yourself if he was here, if he'd healed, he'd clearly managed to convince them to send armies. Silver lined your eyes as you walked through the tent flap Gavriel held open for you. "Y/N," Chaol breathed in shock, you looked between him and the pretty woman who stood next to him, rings on both their fingers. "Hello, old friend!" You grinned as he stood and the tears fell, he opened his arms and you threw yourself into them. "I knew you were too stubborn to stay in that chair!" You sobbed into his neck, he pulled you away gently, "All thanks to Yrene," He smiled, gesturing to the pretty woman next to him, "My wife." He beamed. "It's lovely to meet you, Y/N, I've heard so much about you!" She offered you her hand but you pulled her into a hug, "Thank you, Yrene, welcome to the family!" She laughed, "I needed a sister, between Chaol and Dorian it was always boy stuff!"

The battle was won, you could tell that much. You'd followed Lorcan and Gavriel down a siege tower and had stayed on the field, an arrow to the shoulder had taken you to the ground but it was the sword to the gut that kept you there. You turned your head to see Elide on Chaol's horse take off across the field, darkness crept into your vision, you'd never see Dorian again, never meet Chaol's child, you'd never know if Fenrys would come around again. A single tear slid down your face and as oblivion took you, you could've sworn you heard Fenrys on the battlements above, "Where is Y/N? Where is she?!"

Much to your surprise, you woke again, in a tiny little room, on the most uncomfortable cot you'd ever laid on. A weight on your thigh drew your attention, a head of golden hair was resting on it, you couldn't see the face but you knew who it was and by the sound of his breathing you knew he was asleep. You reached out a tentative hand and twirled the strands that had come loose from his braid through your fingers. He was here. A while later, he stirred, his head turning to face you as his eyes cracked open, relife washing over his face. "Welcome back, sleepy head, good dreams?" You teased and cracked a half smile, "Well you were in them," you waved a hand at him, "Must've been a nightmare then, if I was there." He sat up and rolled his powerful shoulders, "Never, how are you feeling?" You shrugged, "Sore, it was a terrible experience, I don't recommend it." Fenrys snorted out a laugh and despite yourself you beamed, you'd missed this with him, the easy banter, the teasing, it was almost like it was before.

"I owe you an apology, Y/N, I haven't been fair to you." You waved your hand at him again, "It's fine, it's done, it doesn't matter." He took the hand you'd waved in his. "It does matter, I hurt you, therefore it matters, I never lied to you, Y/N, I meant the promises I made you, when Aelin and I got out, I couldn't think straight, I'd watched them take her apart and put her back together day after day, I watched Maeve make my brother kill himself, then you were there and it was hard to believe it was real, that we were out and safe and that despite all I did on that beach to make you hate me, you came anyway."

His thumb was rubbing circles on the back of your hand and you leant towards him, ignoring the pain it caused you and cupped his face, your thumb wiping away the tears that ran down his face. "I heard you, in the vaults, I heard you crying and I knew it was because of me, Gavriel spotted me coming over and shook his head, so I left you with him, he was always the best of us anyways, but you, you have every right to feel hurt by what I've done, how I've handled things," He was rambling now but you didn't have it in you to stop him, "I was terrified that first night in the marshes, when I figured out that what I felt for you was more than a fleeting crush on a pretty girl, watching you sit that close to Dorian, and watching him pull you into his side, and all I could think was, how do I compare to a King that could literally give you the world, I had nothing to offer my mate other than a blood oath to a tyrant queen-" You cut him off, "Mate?" He nodded, "I knew for sure when Maeve made me walk away from you, I could feel the pain you were feeling, flowing into me like a stream, I felt your heart break, Y/N."

He wasn't looking at you again, so despite the pain in your body, you sat up and crawled across the cot to him, you wrapped your hands around his neck and pulled yourself into his lap. "She couldn't know how I felt about you, I couldn't let her have you, I figured if I could keep you at arm's length until we manage to kill her, I'd be able to keep you safe." You turned his head towards you, "I don't want you to keep me at arm's length, keep me safe at your side, apparently, I'm not very good at this battle thing, I'm safer with you, Fenrys, and I'll always come and find you." You could feel his breath on your lips, you watched him flick his eyes between yours and your lips, "Do it Fenrys, kiss me, please?" He groaned and gave in, kissing you desperately, you met him stroke for stroke, when he pulled away your cheeks were flushed, "No more battles for you, okay?" He asked, "Okay Fen, I promise."

#throne of glass #crown of midnight #heir of fire #assassin's blade #queen of shadows #empire of storms #tower of dawn #kingdom of ash #fenrys moonbeam #fenrys x reader

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seiya-starsniper · 11 months

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WIP Word Search Game

I AM 8 BAJILLION YEARS LATE WITH NO EXCUSES (that's a lie, I was sick so haven't written too much lmaoooooo) but thank you so much for the tags @five-and-dimes and @hardly-an-escape

My words are cold, warm, soft, hold, hurt and book, scare, red, hip, tree. Let's see what we've got!

Putting this under a cut because it got long!

Cold:

From an Untitled Dreamling Forced Marriage AU

Dream wishes he had tried harder to convince Robert to open their marriage. Then maybe he could have had someone else’s child, and taken the fall for an affair and run off, out of this cold, loveless place. But Robert had vehemently refused him even that small comfort, and Dream now finds himself hating his husband for it. Now he was trapped forever, with no escape.

Warm:

Continuation of Untitled Portrait of a Man (I Want to Obliterate Me)

“Hey,” Hob greets warmly, breaking Dream out of his reverie and forcing him to reboot his brain. “Hob,” Dream says, cringing internally at how breathless he sounds despite Hob being the one breathing heavily at his door. If the other man notices, he doesn’t comment on it. “It’s bloody hot outside,” Hob replies. He runs a hand through his sweat soaked hair and Dream has to clamp his jaw shut before he blurts out something stupid like “it’s bloody hot inside too”.

Soft:

From the Untitled sequel to A Dream for a Viscount

He wakes to sunlight filtering through the windows, soft and gentle. Hob is snoring peacefully next to him, a rarity as he is normally an early riser while Dream prefers to sleep in. Dream’s last night of heat had been his most fervent, and he blushes when he remembers how desperately he had begged for Hob’s knot, had even begged the alpha to stay inside him until they both fell asleep.

Hold:

Continuation of Untitled Portrait of a Man (I Want to Obliterate Me)

Dream doesn’t expect Hob to show up for their final session. He has every right not to. When he had left Dream’s apartment last week, Dream had buried himself in his work and his sketches. He obsessively stalked the man's social media accounts and downloaded dozens of photos to use a reference in case he needed them to finish his project. In case Hob decided to not come back. The photos don't hold a candle to the real thing though.

Hurt:

From the Untitled sequel to Break Me, Shake Me

Johanna explains to the group gathered who Dream is, and why he’s agreed to help them. Though many of the group regard him warily, as they should, they all fully accept that he's yet another person that's been irreparably hurt by Roderick. Dream wonders what it is they see when they look at him. Roderick has not left him with scars, nor starved him. But there must be something in his expression because Dream catches more than a few pitying glances.

Book:

Continuation of Untitled Portrait of a Man (I Want to Obliterate Me)

“So are you going to let me see what you've done so far, or do I need to wait for the finished product?” Hob asks, settling himself back on the lounge and looking far too comfortable. He doesn't seem to be in a hurry to get dressed, much to Dream’s chagrin. It’s not that he minds Hob’s company, but he’s so horny he might actually explode if Hob doesn’t dress and leave soon. “When I have something worth sharing, you will be the first to see it,” Dream replies, more curt than he'd intended. Hob doesn't seem bothered by his shortness though, he simply huffs in amusement before he stands and walks over to where Dream is sitting as he finishes some additional lines on his sketches. On instinct, Dream pulls his sketchbook close to his chest when Hob is close enough, and when he looks up, he finds himself staring at the most brilliant amber brown eyes he’s ever seen. He almost tells Hob to sit back down just so he can sketch them.

Scare:

Not found in any of my WIP documents (but I'm sure that'll change soon enough!)

Red:

Follow up to SnowBaz Dreamling shenanigans, requested by @bazzybelle

“ ‘m not drunk,” Morpheus insists. Hob snorts. “Sure, sure, and I had the queen of England over at my place this summer,” Hob jokes. “I’m serious!” Morpheus insists, huffing and puffing out his cheeks like a small child. It’s absolutely adorable, if not absolutely terrible for Hob’s balance. Morpheus’s cheeks and lips are both flushed cherry-red from the cold, the most color Hob’s ever seen on the other man since they met. It was a really good look on him. A very tempting look. “Pretty sure your boyfriend would agree with me,” Hob replies, reminding himself that no matter how cute and tempting Morpheus looked, Hob wasn’t a homewrecker. Even if Baz would have thanked him for him and written him a check for enough money to pay the rest of his rent and tuition for the rest of the year. Morpheus furrows his brow. “Boyfriend?” he asks in a confused state. “What boyfriend?”

Hip:

From the Untitled sequel to Break Me, Shake Me

“What do you like, baby?” Hob asks again. “Tell me, I’ll give it to you.” Dream wants to say, look at me. Tell me you can't live without me. Instead, he places a hand on the alpha’s chest, pushing him back and off of him until Hob is sitting on his ankles watching him, his eyes never leaving Dream’s. Then Dream turns and presents himself, bracing on his elbows and knees as he spreads his legs as wide as he can manage. “Take me rough, just like this,” Dream whines. “I want to feel you so deep inside me, I forget everything else.” Hob growls and grabs him by the hips, before the alpha finally, finally does what Dream’s been fantasizing about for weeks and sinks himself into the omega’s cunt.

Tree:

From Chapter 3 of Set the Night on Fire

“You need to leave,” Dream says, his voice low and dangerous as he hears the adventuring party advance further into his territory. By his estimates, they would be at the bottom of the trail leading up the mountain in an hour. “What? Why?” Hob asks, sitting up and now fully awake. Dream does not explain further, he simply grabs Hob by the waist, careful not to squeeze too hard on the soft human’s body, before he dashes out of the cave and jumps from the cliff, taking off into the chilly morning air. “What the fucking hell!” Hob yells as Dream carries them high above the trees, and as far away from the fast approaching humans as the bounds of his curse will allow. He cannot allow the humans to see Hob. He cannot allow them to think Hob is aligned with him. If they do, they’ll kill him, and Dream would not be able to stand it if he loses another human companion.

tagging @pellaaearien @bazzybelle @arialerendeair @blueberrymffn @beauty-of-nyx @tj-dragonblade @bruce-wayne-simp @delta-pavonis @lostelfwriting

Your words are: blue, rich, sky, jacket, and heart

#dreamling #seiya writes #seiya gets tagged #seiya's wip previews #nsft #omegaverse #angst galore!#if there's one thing these word searches make me do #it's write more so I can fill the prompted words LMAO #thanks for tagging me friends!!! 💖

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land-of-holly · 2 days

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Rings of Power Season 2 Episode 6 Liveblog

Are we going to try to hit every plotline this episode? I really think that's too many

Nice soundtrack. Go Arondir!

Shagrat and Gorbag 0.5?

Welp, guess they'll never get their happy retirement.

Are mice allowed in the forge? Seemse dangerous

Tell him, Mirdania!

He doesn't know her name??

Are we getting to the 'gaslight' stage, Annatar??

AUGHHH Charles E is so good, why am I only now getting to see this?

Never give Annatar a task, he will find some way to do it FOR EVIL

A COUP???

Where'd you get those feathers, Annatar?Runes? Carved into the body? Yikes???

You know how those Feanorian smiths get...

YOU CAN'T TRUST HIM MIRDANIA

Where is who?? Sauron?

Dinner at Adar's house!

GIRL WHERE DO YOU GET OFF Can you just admit he got you but good?

Refusing to admit you have anything in common with Adar will do you no good

'Children' Oh yeah, that can definitely be taken A Way

The spikey crown of murder!

Okay good call not fucking talking to him about the rings tho. Opsec ffs

I do appreciate that this entire season's plot rests on information not getting to Eregion. Modern writers often underestimate the power and necessity of reliable communication

I'm interested to see how they'll write the various players' reaction to what is obviously a sham trial

Like they all basically have full mutual knowledge that Pharazon is lying out his ass, right? Are they gonna be dumb and cringe about it?

Pharazon certainly knows how to play a crowd

Well, Elendil is certainly making use of the stage he was given. Good on him

Yeah I'll buy that. No dumb or cringe here.

Trial by ordeal??

Nori's got a nomad's perspective. She has to learn about being attatched to places

They are cute together, sure

Stop it. Slapping your hand. This is not a quote insertion contest. It's not even appropriate. Of course the only good path is to save your friends.

Just surrounding himself with piles of gold

Tell him Durin Jr!

GET THEE BEHIND ME SATAN

Oh right, he's ACTUALLY doing his job. Evilly.

Selling arms to the highest bidder is a long Dwarf tradition, come on!

See, 'It's mine. Belongs to me.' is how you create resonanance without being dumb and cringe.

Violence!!

I love them so much. True OTP. Poor Durin.

Okay but this Trial by Abyss had better have more to it than just spectacle.

Earien, if you didn't want leopards to eat your dad's face...

It"s called having principles, girl

Earien has gotten on her knees for Pharazon confirmed (Sorry.)

Where have they been stashing Miriel, anyway?

So we're really doing this? I'm not categorically opposed to the ship, but it seems a little superfluous. Best left to fanfiction IMO

My boy Narvi!

LAY DOWN IN FRONT OF THAT BULLDOZER GIRL

Theory one, Narvi can't even recognize stone singing. Theory two, he knows enough about it to know Disa wasn't doing anything dangerous.

SHE IS THE NIGHT

Well that would look like an inviting ocean ready for a swim if not for the threat of sea monster

LITERAL QUEEN

Ulmo give her back

Woops that didn't go as planned

Damn the Numenorean aristocracy are more easily swayed than the clan leaders in MDZS

Dude what are you doing to that palantir. I think that'll void the warranty

One more for the harem

Galadriel's so good at making this sound like it was her plan all along

I mean numbers aren't going to win this battle. It's all about narrative supremacy.

It's like thinking you can outsmart the devil. You can't

Battle time?

Oughg he's pulling out the big guns. Full immersion illusion, and absolutely beautiful. Elf extras galore!!!

PUT THAT HAMMER DOWN IT IS NOT YOURS

I mean, from a Doylistic perspective Sauron is not wrong about which works are more well known GOD I HATE HIM SM

STOP TEMPTING HIM

The Eregion scenes this season really have been everything I wanted

Damn they sure have some seige weaponry

This episode was actually fairly well-paced in my opinion! We checked in with everyone (except Elrond rip)(and technically Isildur ig) and were able to make some serious progress on a couple of storylines.

#rings of power #rings of power spoilers #rings of power s2 #rings of power liveblog

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searchingforgravity · 2 years

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The New Maid - PART 4 (Elvis/Austin!Elvis x Reader)

Character/Fandom: Elvis - Elvis (2022)

Prompt: A few weeks has past since the night you overheard something you weren't supposed to. You are starting to get settled into your new life as you explore Memphis on your day off from working. You go to local restaurants and music stores, and see someone that you weren't expecting to see.

TW: drugging, sexual assault, sexual situations

Rating: Mature

Word Count: 3684

A/N: Hey everyone! I'm so glad you are liking the story so far, and I hope you enjoy this chapter!

"What will it be, hun?" the waitress asks as she holds a pen and a pad of paper in her hand. You order a classic breakfast of eggs, bacon, and toast with some coffee. She quickly scrawls down your order and walks away to send it to the kitchen. You sink deep into the cushioned booth and look out the window to your right. It's been a few weeks now since you started working for Elvis and it's your first day off. You've been working nonstop since he's been home and Dee breathing down your neck, looking over your shoulder every minute did not help ease your nerves either. That pressure along with the awkward energy between you and Elvis lately has been suffocating. Ever since you overheard him that night he's been too embarrassed to talk to you. You could've sworn you heard your name that night, but there's no way that's possible. Maybe you imagined it. Because, of course it's what you wanted to hear. You bring your attention back to the cozy booth you're sitting in as you hear the waitress setting down your coffee. You thank her and sip on the warm drink, losing yourself in your thoughts.

After eating, you go to a music store and become a bit frustrated by all the records of Elvis you see. Almost every other record has his face plastered on it. As you browse, you spot a record by Ike and Tina Turner. You absolutely love Tina Turner. You grab the record and carry it over to the lanky, yet gruff looking young man reading a magazine behind the counter. "Hey dear, this it?" He mumbles through his cigarette, eyes still on the magazine. You internally sigh at his passive behavior. "Yes, that'll be all," You say, gazing at the magazine. Playboy, of course. Upon hearing your voice, he glances up at you, his eyes lingering a bit too long, making you shift uncomfortably under his gaze. You forget you aren't wearing your cleaning uniform and might be more eye catching. You chose an emerald green dress that hugs your waist, and his gaze seems to continuously revert back to it. He sits up from his slouched position and writes out the total. "That'll be three bucks," He mutters, the cigarette never leaving his mouth. You pay him and he grazes your hand during the exchange. It seems innocent enough, but for some reason, you feel a pit form in your stomach. He looks at you again. "You from around here?" he asks, only half interested. You hesitate before answering, not feeling comfortable divulging information to a stranger, especially not this stranger. "No, I'm from Iowa," You reply, more shaky than you intended. He grunts as he ponders this. "Hm, what do they got in Iowa?" "The State Fair," you say and internally cringe, not being able to think of anything else to say. He laughs and instead of easing you, it makes you more on edge. "The State Fair," he repeats, looking at you again. It feels predatory, like he wants something from you, and he'll take it with or without your permission. "Nice to meet ya', Iowa. I'm Johnny." Somehow, such a family name doesn't suit him. "You too Johnny," you mumble as you take your record and quickly leave the store, feeling his eyes on you as you walk out the door.

After walking around and exploring the town for the better half of the afternoon, your stomach starts to rumble and you decide it might be a good time to stop for dinner. As the sun starts to set, you hug your arms close to your body, cursing yourself for forgetting your jacket at home. You cling the bagged record to your side as you step onto the Beale St. strip. The street was buzzing with people and you suddenly wish you had dropped the record off at Graceland. You walk around and spot a bar called the Tin Roof. Walking in, your senses are flooded with jazz music and the smell of booze. You know it's probably not safe to drink alone in such a big city, but you've had a long couple of weeks, and no friends here to drink with. Plus, you are a sucker for live music. You take a seat at one of the tables and order a cosmopolitan. Your eyes drift to to the band as you sip your drink. They end their set and the announcer comes to the stage. "Good evening ladies and gentlemen. Up next we have a little surprise for you. Please, put your hands together for Elvis Presley!"

Your mouth falls open as shock takes over every other emotion in your body. Elvis is performing? Here? Your question is answered when he walks out on stage wearing a blue suit, the shirt underneath a little too open to be modest. He looks gorgeous. His eyes sparkling with a huge smile on his face, waving to the unsuspecting audience. Everyone starts going wild as people flood inside, the bouncer having to go outside to stop people from storming in. Elvis starts performing and your senses go into overdrive. Your ears are ringing, and the chaos from the crowd is engulfing. It suddenly dawns on you that you are completely alone and it might be harder than you thought to hail a cab home, especially now that Elvis decided to do a surprise performance. In the midst of it all, you are yanked back to the room when you feel someone's hand on your shoulder. "Hey Iowa."

You trail up the hand to find Johnny beside you, clutching your shoulder. The roar of the crowd pushes him closer to you, or maybe that was his excuse for his sudden proximity. "Ya like Elvis?" He shouts in your ear, making you pull back slightly. As you do, his grip on your shoulder tightens. You shiver. "He's okay," You say, not really sure if you do like him or not, even though you knew he was talking about his singing. "Well he's popular with the ladies, that's for sure! Stay here, I'm getting you a drink," He shouts and barrels through the crowd towards the bar. You grab your record off the table and make a move for the door, warning bells going off in your head. You take a quick look towards the little stage and are taken aback when you see Elvis' eyes piercing into you. His expression changes slightly when he recognizes the look of fear in your eyes. He jumbles his words while singing, but quickly recovers and looks over to one of the members of the Mafia in the crowd. Before you can look back at him, you're ripped backwards, colliding into Johnny's towering figure. His sweat is drenching the collar of his shirt and you suddenly realize how drunk he is as he ravenously looks you up and down.

Elvis' voice still rings through the microphone and it's suddenly much too loud as your fear heightens. "Here, drink this honey," He yells over the noise as he thrusts a glass towards you. You take a hold of the cold drink and peer into it. It seems to be a cosmopolitan like you had been drinking tonight, and are suddenly feeling the affects of. The room starts to spin slightly as you look at Johnny. Fearing what would happen if you didn't, you take a drink from the glass. "So, you go out often?" he asks as he slides closer to you. His hand traveling to your waist, squeezing harshly. You can feel bile in your throat as the feeling of his hand repulses you, but you choke it down and offer a smile, trying to stay calm. "Oh yeah, I love live music. I go to a lot of music bars," You lie, trying not to sound naive. He nods and travels his hands up your waist, pulling you closer. Your breath catches in your throat, your ears ringing as your stomach turns. "Drink up baby, I didn't pay all that money for nothing" he says as he leans in and brashly kisses your cheek. You hesitate as you recoil from his touch. He brings his mouth to your ear. "I said drink it," He bites out, his grip now trapping you in place. Frightened, you do as you're told. Suddenly, the noise begins to lessen as you look around the room. Your vision begins to blur, and you hear someone come up to you. "Oh, honey, I've been looking everywhere for you," Someone says from the side and you look in his eyes, barely able to register that Jerry Schilling was beside you, creating a barrier between you and Johnny. "Who the hell are you?" Johnny spits, trying to grab at you. "I'm her boyfriend, who the hell are you?" Jerry lies as he wraps his arm around your back supporting you as you slowly begin losing consciousness. You can hear Johnny sputtering out an apology but can't grasp the words. The last thing you hear is Elvis' voice from the stage as black takes over your vision.

You come to momentarily and feel wind running through your hair. You open your eyes and see Elvis' hands on the steering wheel, clenching so hard his knuckles had turned white, his rings digging into his flesh. You look up at his face and his brows are knitted together, concern washing over his features. "What's happening?" you fumble your words, finding it hard to move or talk. He is pulled out of his trance as his eyes snap to you. You see his shoulders relax the slightest bit. You expect him to reprimand you for being so stupid but he does the opposite. "Sweet heart, what happened? We're almost home baby, don't worry," He breathes as he turns down the road, his right hand leaving the wheel as he grasps yours in reassurance. His words sound far away and muffled as you look down at his hand on yours, a small smile forming on your lips before losing consciousness for the second time.

You blink your eyes open to find yourself back in your room at Graceland. For a moment, you think the faint memories of the night before are all a dream until you see Elvis across the room, peering out the window deep in thought. His concern seems to have been replaced with anger. You inch up on the bed until you're upright. Elvis hears you and turns in an instant. "Hey. How are you feelin'?" He makes his way over to you, sitting on the side of the bed. Your senses heighten slightly and you notice a difference in your attire. You look down and realize you are wearing a new night gown. "Did you change my clothes?" you blurt out before you could think as you look up at him, still dazed and sleepy. His cheeks flush slightly as he looks down like a boy getting caught taking sweets. "Well, you'd gotten sick all over your dress. I couldn't leave ya in it. I-I didn't look at anything, I promise," he stutters as his hand rubs the back of his neck. You smile slightly in amusement at how he was acting. Before you get to really revel in the reversing of roles the embarrassment hits you. "I got sick? Oh God," you moan out as you cover your face with your hands. A blush creeps over you at another thought. You're not wearing a bra, he saw you almost completely naked. You look back to him, the words at the tip of your tongue ready to lay into him, when a knock interrupts your first syllable. Panic floods your face and he reassures you "It's fine, it's just Jerry. I asked him to get some aspirin in case you had a headache," he confirms as he retrieves reinforcements from Jerry. His words trigger the beginnings of a splitting headache. You shut your eyes and bring your hands to your temples, kneading softly. Elvis makes his way over to you once more. You feel the bed dip beside you and look to find him holding some Aspirin and a glass of water. "Here, this'll help with the pain," he says in an almost whisper as he holds out the glass for you to take. You reach for the glass and your fingertips brush, electricity shooting down your spine. Your eyes instantly connect with his. Time stops for just a second. You gaze falls to his lips wanting to feel them against yours. He looks at your lips in response, his tongue darting out subconsciously to moisten them. "Here, sweet heart," he rasps, and you realize you've been staring longer than you should be, your hand still connected with his on the glass. "Thanks," you whisper taking the glass and downing it along with 3 aspirin, finally looking away. "So," He starts, "who was that skuzz trying to get with you?"

You are stunned at his quick change in tone. You can see the controlled rage behind his eyes as he looks at you expectantly. Was he jealous? "He was just some guy that worked at a record store that I went to earlier in the day. I guess he recognized me," you say nonchalantly. "Mhm. Which record store was it? What was his name?" His interrogates, barely getting a breath in between. You look at him with bewildered amusement at how serious he was. "What? Why? I don't remember the store name, but his name is Johnny." "If we went by the store, would you recognize it?" You furrow your brow at this, confused. "What? What are you talking about? Why?" He darts up from the bed, becoming more frustrated. "Because, he drugged you (y/n)! And the way he was touching you..." he trailed off, gazing over at you. Was he more upset about you being in danger or the idea of someone trying to take what's 'his'. "He's going to be fired from his job, I'll get a restraining order for you, and maybe teach him a lesson on how to behave around women," he fumes. You shake your head, and wince at the pain of your headache. "No, Elvis, stop. What are you talking about? You can't get him fired from his job" you rebut. You quickly learn telling Elvis he can't do something is a mistake. He looks over at you, his eyes gleaming. "Like hell I can't. Honey, I'm able to do more than you can imagine." His tone was dangerous and although he was talking about Johnny, you couldn't help but wonder what else he is capable of. "And I won't tolerate him doing something like that to you. Do you know how scary it was? He must've put a lot of shit in your drink," He responds, drawing back inside himself. You pull the covers off of you and stand, walking over to him. You have to regain your balance as you're still dizzy from the drugs. Without thinking, you grab his hand in yours. "Elvis, It's okay, really. I'm fine. Please, I just don't want to have to deal with it right now," you breathe out, already exhausted from the situation. He pauses for a second, taken aback that you've touched him, then steps closer to you, looking in your eyes. Your breath catches in your throat, this was a bad idea. It's improper, he's your boss, why would you put your hands on him like this? You move to pull your hand away when he catches it with his, not allowing it. You look back into his eyes and they've changed from his previous angered state. They're dark, but they're softer now, his pupils blown, lips parted the slightest bit. The air stiffens as you keep your eyes on him, unable to look away. Then he brings your hand to his mouth and kisses your palm, his eyes never leaving yours.

"Elvis," you gasp out, flustered by his actions. He kisses your hand again, and again. "So beautiful," he sighs as he laces his fingers through yours. Your mind is buzzing, you don't want him to stop. He kisses your wrist, elbow, shoulder. He dips his head down and kisses your neck, causing your eyes to flutter closed. "Elvis," you say in protest, halfheartedly. He can hear the resolve in your voice, you know he can as he draws you closer to him. "Please," He breathes, his lips coming to your cheek, leaving open mouthed kisses. He kisses your forehead, your nose, your other cheek. He brings his lips to hover over yours, breathlessly. He's so close, you can feel his warm, labored breath on you. It instinctively makes you part your lips in response, your mind muddled from the sudden longing coursing through you. He brings his forehead to rest on yours, and you can feel his chest heaving. You swallow audibly, leaning your face up towards him, your lips brushing on his. He lets a sigh escape his lips as he cups your face in his hands. A loud bang at the door causes you to pull away from him, reality crashing back down. "Miss (y/l/n) are you awake? I need to speak with you," Dee's voice calls from the other side of the door. You and Elvis look at each other and his eyes are just as wide as yours, you both acting like two kids getting caught doing something wrong. You look around and spot your closet, quickly shoving him towards it. He chuckles silently as he allows you to push him towards the closet, only somewhat resisting. "Yes Mrs. Presley, one second!" you yell back, pushing him with more force, agitated at his resistance. "Never thought this would happen in my own house," he whispers, and you hear slight annoyance behind his humor. He kneels down in your closet, looking up at you. This makes a shock wave of desire run through you so suddenly you almost lose your balance for the second time. You never thought seeing him on his knees could be so sensual, but it had you absentmindedly rubbing your thighs together. You shush him and shut the closet door, telling Dee she can come in.

"I know it's your day off, but I was wondering if you could run an errand for me," Dee firmly requests as she storms in. She pauses as she looks at you, her eyebrow quirking. "You're not unwell are you? Your face is red as a tomato. If you're sick that will not do." This statement makes your cheeks flush even more; there was evidence of your sins. "N-no ma'am, I just was a little warm in here is all," You stutter, embarrassment coursing through you. She nods, choosing to believe you, even though you know it was a lame excuse. "Okay, well I need you to go to the store and pick up a few items for me. I'm having a get together and I simply won't have enough time to send anyone else." She waits for your answer even though you're pretty sure you don't have a choice. "Yes, of course," You say, masking the annoyance of having to work on your day off with false integrity. "Great," she continues, "be back here by noon." With that she closes the door.

As soon as the door closes the closet door opens. Elvis appears grinning at you like a school boy. "What are you so happy about?" you groan as you look at your own reflection in the mirror, only half shocked to find your hair a complete mess, yet grateful your makeup from the night before held. "Red as a tomato huh? Do I really get you all worked up, darlin'?" Mortification floods your senses at his bold question. You shoot him a warning glare before you return to the mirror, taming your hair. This makes him laugh out loud causing you to roll your eyes in annoyance. Then you get a sudden thought, this is a game to him. Of course it is, he's trying to get the satisfaction of sleeping with any girl he wants. If he keeps on long enough, for sure you'll cave. You can't believe you've been so foolish. You're so entangled in your thoughts that you don't notice him approach you from behind. As he reaches out and touches your shoulder, you pull away as if you've been burned. You look at him through the mirror and his face looks like he's been shot. Guilt starts to arise until you remind yourself that you're just another girl to him. "Sweet heart? I was just messin' with ya'. I didn't mean to make ya' angry," he mutters. He tries to reach for your hand but you pull it to your chest, stopping him. "Honey," he whispers, pain in his tone. "Elvis, you're my boss," You say harshly as you avert your eyes from his. You can feel him stiffen behind you. You continue, "I appreciate you helping me last night, but what's happening, it's unprofessional. I won't just be another notch on your bedpost." You can feel your cheeks burn from humiliation as silence hangs in the air. His response came out more confident than yours. "Sweet heart, that's not what-", you cut him off "And please, no more with the pet names. I work for you, I'm not one of your groupies." he pulls away harshly, and you chance a glance at him through the mirror. You've hurt him. He looks you over incredulously and you avert your gaze, not able to look at him any longer. "I'm sorry I've offended you. It wasn't my intention. But if that's what you want, I won't push you." You don't respond and continue to gaze at the floor. You weren't aware he'd walked away until the door slamming brings your eyes back up into the mirror. You also aren't aware you started crying until you feel a tear run down your cheek.

Masterlist

Taglist:

@dark-raven031 @tantamount-treason @peaceloveelvis @goldobsessionsworld @looloolily @flowersofcement

#elvis imagine #elvis presley #graceland #elvis presley imagine #elvis the king #elvis 2022 #austin butler #elvis fanfiction #elvis the pelvis #elvis presely smut #elvis x reader #austin!elvis smut #austin!elvis x reader

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florrentine · 5 months

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it's the greeting that gets her attention, simple and soft despite the volume of the music thumping along from the other side of the bar -- not a pick up line, not something cliche or cringe inducing that'll encourage her to find an excuse to remove them from the situation ( she's already had to do that a few minute's earlier due to the thick-tongued nonsense of a tech bro who didn't know how to read a room, let alone body language or tone -- the tried and true excuse that she's waiting for her friend arrive and they should keep on moving ).

@juliankayed ; may i get you a drink while you wait?

she doesn't immediately recognize the voice, but she certainly recognizes the smile when he leans into view on her left -- it's the same one she'd noticed accidentally gotten caught looking at once or twice the week before at her exhibit.

"i remember you ... you were at leica last thursday, right?" ( she also recalled there had been a column of a woman on his arm to go along with it that night at the gallery; but this time he's seemingly free enough to rest both of his forearms against the bar top instead of helping himself to the empty seat beside her. ) "i'm not really waiting, you know ... i just didn't want to have to hear that one prattle on about his start-up." hopefully her honesty won't render his offer null-and-void.

"cheers. i wouldn't mind another manhattan .... if you're ordering something for yourself, too, i mean." the combination of a smile and a flick of her chin offer him the seat beside her while fingers twirl the skewered cherry garnish around the thin line of liquid that's left from her first. "i didn't manage to catch you name last week."

#juliankayed #inbox. › answered.#alt verse. › la woman.#i'm already Obessed #alcohol mention cw

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stenka-razin · 8 months

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Grammy Live Performances Reviewed

Dua Lipa: it was fine, but I don't remember much of it. Didn't help that I don't think I know these songs at all.

Luke Combs & Tracy Chapman doing Fast Car: Dunno why this was second, eyes were pissing tears immediately. This is one of better ideas for a Grammy Performances. You have all these artists under one roof, make 'em work together! Anyway, it was good.

SZA: SZA was good and the choreography was solid. I don't know much SZA though, but it sounded nice enough.

Billie Eilish: (sharp inhale into the mic) why (sharp inhale into the mic) did (sharp inhale into the mic) billie (sharp inhale into the mic) eilish (sharp inhale into the mic) sing (sharp inhale into the mic) like (sharp inhale into the mic) this? Seriously sounded like she ran a 5k before singing. Also I didn't like the song.

Miley Cyrus: Miley did Flowers, a song I think is whatever, but her performance was fine enough. Except she kept making incredibly cringe adlibs. Like when she admonished the crowd "don't act like y'all don't know this song." That became a running gag for us. Not great but I laughed a lot.

Olivia Rodrigo: If you buy the Olivia Rodrigo/Taylor Swift feud rumors, you'd half to imagine that she was quietly seething all night. She performed Vampire, a song allegedly about Taylor Swift, right before Taylor won an award they were both nominated for and announced a new album. Olivia proceeded not to win anything. Anyhow, her performance was fine, but the song is not my thing. She didn't overunder sing it like Billie or do stupid crowd engagement like Miley at least.

U2: U2 did a new U2 song. I don't super care, but always good to see them still remaining defiantly in their own lane. But really this was less about the music and more a glorified ad for Las Vegas' Sphere. I think I would throw up if I saw a show in that thing. Maybe that's the point. Dead & Co have a residency in there and I'm wondering how that'll be. It seems like a venue built for artist with sick ass laser light shows. Not meandering psyched tinge bluegrass jams. I just don't get Vegas I guess. Last time I was there for a layover that took forever and some dude attempted to shoot his family in the parking lot of the airport. Bad vibes man. Oh I was talking about U2?

Stevie Wonder, Annie Lennox, Wendy & Lisa, Jon Batiste, Ann Nesby, Cory Henry, Jimmy Jam & Terry Lewis, and Fantasy: Woo! Yeah this was the immemorial segment, and really it was a series of consecutive performances. Notably, Stevie Wonder dueted with Tony Bennett's ghost. Annie Lennox did Nothing Compares 2 U and called for a ceasefire, and it climaxed in Fantasia's big Proud Mary romp. Also for some reason in the middle we got a 20 second clip of Jimmy Buffet. No other deceased performer got a standalone sound bite so it was weird. All in all it was pretty good, though ran sacharine as you can expect these in memorium segments to.

Joni Mitchell, Brandi Carlisle, others: Joni's still got it! She did Both Sides Now, backed by a band consisting of wiki tells me are accomplished musicians int heir own right.

Travis Scott & Playboi Carti: This SUCKED! First off, both these dudes music is entirely production driven. That's fine (I mean, more so for Scott since he actually does a lot of his own beats) but it absolutely does not translate to compelling live shows. Travis Scott is so fucking corny, he's out here in his fake muscles trying to hulk out, when he looks like a withered pillhead. Also I have no idea why you'd book a performer where every other line needs to be muted out of the livestream. Anyway, he can't rap for shit and this was god awful.

Burna Boy, 21 Savage, Brandy: This was great! I didn't know much Burna Boy but this was a fun performance and everyone was very good. Brandy is still great?

Billy Joel: It's no surprise Billy Joel can still perform. For all the to do about him not putting out new music for decades, it overlooks that he's still on the road constantly. But yeah, the new Billy Joel song sounds like an old Billy Joel song, so that's probably for the best. Then he did You Might Be Right, one of those consummately uncool songs that I enjoy anyway.

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worldscollidinginone · 7 months

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Chapter 4 - What Are We?

Book master list

We went towards the hall, the place where the party was taking place. The hall was very beautifully decorated, and all eyes were on us. I suddenly realised that the guy I am with is the most popular guy in the university. Every girl wanted him to be her boyfriend and every guy wanted to be his friend. I never had so much attention to me ever before. Aman instead was very confident, had no fear at all. He looked at me cringing and getting nervous.

Aman then said: "Don't worry about anything. They won't do anything that'll hurt you. Don't get nervous, because I am in any way very nervous."

I then responded: "You? And nervous? Oh, come on Aman! You are the most popular guy in the university then why are you so nervous for?"

He answered: "I know that I don't look nervous because I know you will be nervous about this. I just want to make sure that whatever happens tonight, becomes the most memorable night of our lives. The one thing I really want to do with you is..."He took a long pause. He was looking into my eyes, and I got lost again in his eyes.

"...dance with you, but I don't know what your reaction be like. And I AM REALLY BAD AT DANCING. That's the only thing I hate. And regarding the fact that I am the most popular guy in the university, then no one treats me the I want them to treat me."

While he was talking, he came closer towards me and leant his lips over mine, so that our lips were just inches apart.

I then reacted, trying to remove the tension that was building up: "How can you hate dancing!!! It's the best thing that you can do when you are stressed!! I love it!! I used to dance a lot when I was little and also, I had to dance stealthily because dad didn't like that. And as far for the dance is concerned... I don't mind dancing with you. It can't be that bad."

The music was very rhythmic, it demanded you to dance on the dance floor, but I was a bit reticent because I never danced in a public place before. So, I went towards the bar and asked for a virgin Mojito.

Aman was talking to some other people who I didn't know, and I didn't want to be a nuisance to him. And my friends? They were all dancing with their boyfriends, completely ignoring me. Great! (#BFFgoals)

For some reason, I couldn't take my eyes off Aman. He was looking really handsome and dapper.

Then a guy, I think his name was Karan, asked me if I wanted to dance with him. I did not know what to say, so I looked towards Aman, and he was looking towards me, from a long time. He nodded. I said OK.

Karan took me to the dance floor, and we started dancing. He would keep touching in inappropriate places till I became enraged.

I said, almost screaming: "If you want me to break your face, fair enough, but don't you ever disrespect a woman's dignity!!! Any woman's dignity!!! Just because she's quiet, doesn't mean she's not going to react!"

I looked at Karan and he first started laughing as if I said a very funny joke and then became really angry and wanted to attack me. I saw Aman trying to help me out but, he was getting stopped by the same people he was talking to. Karan ran towards me and formed a fist with his hand when I defended and counter-attacked him and broke his nose. I know this because I heard the bone crack.

Everyone was shocked. Aman was shocked, in all that chaos. Everyone was screaming and shouting. Aman then came towards me, took the hand that I hit Karan and kissed my knuckles and then the palm of my hand. He then kicked in Karan's stomach, and he took me out the venue, in the car park. No one saw us going towards the car park because everyone was focused on Karan and his nose.

It was cold, and I was just wearing a dress. Aman saw me shivering, and so he came towards me and gave me his jacket. I tried to stop him, but he wouldn't listen. He became really silent, not normal for a person like Aman. He was a very talkative person.

Go To Chapter 5

#writing prompts #otp prompts #writing #writeblr #imagine your otp #prompts #otp writing #kal ho naa ho #jaya bachchan #shahrukh #shah #shah rukh khan #shahrukh khan #shahrukhkhan #saif ali khan #preity zinta #dara singh

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