#write-o-ween

[bunny-jpeg]

kink-o-ween - day two

max verstappen & charles leclerc - threesome

cw: smut/pwp, threesome, enthusiastic consent, breast play, fingering, doggy style, oral sex (charles receiving),

you didn't expect for this to happen. when you fell in love with charles leclerc, you didn't expect to end up in max verstappen's orbit. you knew that you'd be in the spotlight regardless. the prince of monaco, it would be impossible not to have your face in the tabloids.

while you were on charles' arm at events, smiling up at him with love in your chest, you could feel the heated gaze of max's blue eyes on you. your world became of green and blue, lingering gazes of your boyfriend and the rival he held dear. it was only a matter of time before it all came to a head. when you ended up in the sheets with the prince of monaco and the lion of the netherlands.

this was a position many would die for. in between two and three of the dutch grand prix, they both had their eyes on something different. while the trophies were nice, but they'd end up in storage and long forgotten. but you were fresh like summer fruit, perfect to put between their teeth.

"i see how you eye her, mate." charles said as he leaned against the back wall, a cigarette between his fingers, "i think you should be more subtle. or people will talk."

max took the cigarette from him and took a drag, "then stop dressing her in outfits that make the whole garage stop and stare.

"she dressed herself. she's been hoping to catch your eye. we've been thinking. a week away. you, me and her. something to keep us busy."

max took another drag and chuckled, hidden from the eyes of the press. he went over to charles and grabbed him by the chin, their gazes remained leveled with one another. he chuckled, "are you whoring out your girlfriend to me, mate?"

"it's not whoring out if we all want it."

it came about weeks later, a break in the season. not a long one like the full summer break. but enough that the two men could spend hours being in bed with you. it was in a hotel outside of austin. where you really felt the heat of the texan sun. it was a small place, a little shady, but you paid in cash and the bed with big. not too many questions were asked, they didn't even ask for your passport. they simply took the cash and handed you a key. and once the door to the room was closed, you felt hands coming from behind to unbutton your shirt.

you looked over your shoulder and saw max's gaze on you and when you looked back, you felt your boyfriend's front against you. charles was getting your jeans off. there really was no time like the present.

"insatiable." you sighed as you aided max getting your shirt off.

"we've waited long enough." charles said as he pulled your shorts down to your ankles. you moaned a little as he rubbed your cunt over your cotton panties. but the noises didn't last long as max captured your lips in his.

you aided them to get you naked and eventually ended up on the squeaky mattress. both men looked down at you and you swallowed a little. you tried to turn your body in a way to hide even an inch of skin. but charles stop you as he climbed into bed with you. he kicked his socks off as he pinned your wrists to the bed.

"no hiding for us, beautiful. you made a promise to be good for us." his voice was heat in your brain as you started to pull at his t-shirt, but max was close by helping him get it off. eventually the two men were stripped naked. expensive shirts were tossed to the ground. charles calvin klein's were over the edge of the bed. the covers were rough and unlike the soft bedding back in monaco. but this would have to do given the circumstances.

the three of you naked with each man on either side of you. their hands roamed your figure. max even went as far as to pinch the softness in your stomach before he pulled you in for a kiss. he tilted your head back to get access to your lips while charles' mouth was on your breasts. his tongue dragged across your nipples.

"she has the prettiest lips." max said as he held you throat gently.

"you should feel her breasts. she's perfectly soft, it's like heavy. she's flexible and is able to take cock like a champion." he chuckled. as he continued to silently worshiping your breasts. leaving wet kisses and small bites across the skin as max kissed you deeply. it all felt so good for you.

when they were done caressing you with kisses, you ended up on your hands and knees in front of charles' cock. your boyfriend was propped against the headboard.

charles grabbed a condom from a new box he kept in the nightstand and tossed it to max, "you're a good friend, max. but, i'm not letting you get that close to her."

max nodded before he put it on. he was on his heels and his cock in one hand while he got the condom over his length. your bare, wet cunt was enticing to him. he said, "it feels like i've lucked out quite a bit."

the other man replied, "yes you are. i don't get too angry about not getting podium sometimes because i know she'll let me do anything to make myself feel better."

max looked down at your bareback, "anything' huh?" that was curious to him.

charles' combed his fingers through your hair, you could feel his rings against your scalp as he looked at you with those dazzling green eyes. he said softly, "you're going to be good for our guest tonight? be good for our world champion." he chuckled before he pressed your mouth up against his cock.

you happily accepted it into your mouth and moaned loudly when max pushed his cock deep inside of you. max's eyes went wide for a moment of how sweet your pussy felt.

oh my god.

charles noticed and chuckled, "yeah. she feels good doesn't she." he looked down at you, "she's a real piece of work. i'm thankful that she is mine."

"except for tonight."

charles replied, "don't get too attached, max. you can have any woman you want." and looked down at you. he stroked your cheek, call it a little possessive but who would want to constantly share their slice of paradise. you continued to suck him off.

max started to work his hips against yours. he watched how you moved under him. the sight of his rival and you in front of him was painfully hot.

your sweet noises came from your lips and were muffled by charles' cock inside of you. the three of you moved together. you were getting it from all angles. letting these men have their way with you. it was all consensual, but it did feel dirty.

"do you like that?" charles asked as he gripped your hair.

you nodded rapidly and could feel your lover's cock in your throat. he was quite big, even after all the time together to take him in your mouth was a little bit of a struggle.

charles took your mouth off of him and jerked his cock rapdily, "use your words, my love. tell max and i how you feel."

you whined, "please, charles. max! it feels so good. like nothing else." you arched your back a little and moaned before your lover grabbed your by the back of your head and onto his cock once more.

the three of you moved in a steady pattern, the bed squeaked under you and the covers were rough against your knees and chest. this little motel in texas where no one asked questions was your little getaway for the night.

to run the course of your sexual fever as both men stayed inside of you. it felt so good. it made you drool in more ways than one as you felt max's cock nudge inside of your slick pussy and charles' cock up into your throat.

you held onto his strong thighs and moaned against his cock. max's cock in your pussy was making you feel a deep lust in your gut. he was similar size to charles, but his methods of fucking were much different. charles fucked like an inferno while max fucked with more methodical movements. regardless your head was spinning from it all.

to be between these two men, some of the toughest rivals in a long time. it made you hot all over, you loved charles but to spend a night with max as well added something that made you feel painfully turned on.

"she's beautiful. where did you find her?" max asked as his pace became a little more erratic. he was trying to chase the high of pleasure.

charles chuckled a little. his hand in your hair, "that's a secret, max." he rocked further up into your throat and could feel the heat seep into his blood.

max would give a lot for a woman like you, even outside of the bedroom he was captivated by you. how you giggled and smiled at the paddock, your knowledge of cars.

you whined a little bit and arched your back as you felt it all zip through your body. you felt alive between the two men and it made both of them very pleased. you were enjoying this despite working so hard to make them finish. you were a perfect woman.

max gave it a few more heavy thrusts before you came quickly around his cock which only made him push further into you. it was ticking all the boxes in his sexual depraved head. his chest against your back with your hips tilted to get the perfect angle for his heavy thrusts.

"please tell me where you got her, charles." max sputtered as he felt the draw of orgasm pull through him as he looked up at his longtime friend, "raya? snapchat? through a friend? does she have a sister?"

charles chuckled and patted his friend on the cheek, "that's a secret, max." he licked his lips, those green eyes gleamed with mischief. he wouldn't give away the secrets of how you met charles. it was too much of a funny story for the bedroom, plus charles may like it whe max is a little desperate.

max held onto you as tight as he could, almost bruising the skin. he finished inside of you and made the pleasure curl through both of your bodies. it was all so much for him but it felt good even while using a condom. it briefly made him wonder if he could ever try it bare with you. to get a better feeling of you sweet pussy.

"now help me out." charles said as you continued to suck him off. he almost felt the wind out of his gut as he felt max also lick his cock in the parts you couldn't reach without deep throating his cock too much. his choked out a groan before he came down your throat and you swallowed it eagerly.

charles looked down at the both of you and it excited him. to see his loving girlfriend and also his rival by his bare cock. he tried to shift off the bed to get settled for the night. but you held his hips to the bed.

you looked over at max and chuckled. you were still in a post-climax haze, "i think we should thank charles for tonight." then giggled at max.

max licked his lips and said, "of course. you take his cock, i'll take his mouth." which made heat rise to charles' cheeks as he was moved from the headboard.

everyone was going to get theirs tonight. charles only worry was, that he might have created a sexual monster out of you and max. and that tonight wouldn't be the last time this happened <3

[strawberrystepmom]

pairing: werewolf!kakashi hatake x f!reader

word count: 5.2k

about: your boyfriend leaves you alone for one week every month and you can never seem to put your finger on why. convinced he’s cheating, you book a romantic getaway to pin him down and figure him out. while preparing to leave, you instead discover the hairy secret he has been keeping from you all this time.

contents: nsfw - mdni. cw knotting, cw mating, cw breeding kink. miscommunication with resolution, established relationship, piv sex, vaginal fingering, reader has breasts and is referred to as pretty and mate multiple times, reader has pubic hair, few mentions of birth control (reader is on it but method is not specified), sloppy and messy sex (saliva is mentioned but there is no specific instance of spitting)

notes: part of thot-o-ween 2023! ngl i had the most fun writing this one out of the whole group this far and i hope that it shows and you enjoy reading it! thanks for the support the last four weeks and i'm so glad we are getting into the thick of the good stuff now. ♡

“Don’t be ridiculous, he absolutely adores you.”

Despite the consistent reassurance of your best friend, you aren’t certain that your boyfriend Kakashi does adore you. 

It’s not that he isn’t wonderful because he is. Supportive, serious without being a bore, and surprisingly humble - these are all things it takes no effort for you to feel and say about him. Despite this, you can’t shake the nagging distrust you’ve felt since he told you he’s going on his once a month week long business trip. Unfortunately, this time it coincides with a romantic getaway you tried to book for the two of you as a surprise. Despite days of trying to convince yourself that it’s nothing and you have nothing to worry about with his cyclical departures, you have a really bad feeling. 

“I can’t explain it but my intuition is going crazy. It feels like he’s lying to me.”

Your mind has played through all of the reasonable possibilities for his departure and is now filtering through the unreasonable ones. The “he has a family he’s hiding from me” paranoia pings between your ears like a racing pinball and your friend can tell, her face set in a displeased frown. She has been placating you for the past five months, politely shoving you in the direction of speaking your mind to the man, but she knows you’re uncomfortable with the idea.

She reaches across the small table the two of you sit at, dotted with discarded napkins and cups full of rapidly melting ice, and grabs your hands between hers. You appreciate the gesture and squeeze her fingers with your thumbs, smiling softly. 

“You already know my advice because I’ve given it freely. What you do next is completely up to you.”

Nodding, you know she’s right. She has told you to confront him, to snoop, to follow him and these all sound like wonderful ways to handle the issue in theory. In practice, though? That’s a different story. 

Dropping her hands and picking your phone up from the table, you sigh and open the little green bubble that is the messages app. Kakashi’s thread is at the top of your list and you open it, smiling looking at his sweet wishes of a good evening with your friend. 

Hope you’re having fun. See you soon. 😊

“I booked that cabin before he told me he was leaving, do you think I should still tell him about it?”

Your friend nods firmly, sticking to her earlier advice.

“Yes, you should have told him as soon as you planned the getaway but maybe he can arrange something with work if he knows. It’s still a week out.”

Sighing, you nod in agreement and tap out a message in response to your boyfriend, worrying your lower lip between your teeth.

I know this is kind of off the cuff and you already told me you’re going to be gone but I booked a cabin for all of next week for the two of us. If you can’t make it, I understand. Romantic surprises are so hard sometimes!

The message whooshes and shows as sent, the blue text bubble sitting as heavy as the anxiety in your stomach. It’s long winded and something you probably should have said in person rather than via text but considering how nauseous you already feel anticipating his answer, you think this may have been for the best. You lock your phone and place it back down, not wanting to stare at the screen any longer, and the waitress comes to drop off your check. 

Just as you reach for the little black tray with your receipt, your phone pings and your eyebrows raise. You smile at the waitress as you slide your card onto the tray and send her off, picking up your phone as soon as it’s not rude to do so.

You are so thoughtful. Don’t worry about not saying something sooner, I will see what I can figure out. Thank you for doing something so sweet.

Maybe your mind really has been playing tricks on you. It’s hard to hide your grin as you pass the phone across the table and your friend smiles as she reads as well, holding her hands out and tilting her head.

“See? Good communication is key.”

You know she’s right.

Across town, though, Kakashi paces the floor of his bedroom wondering how the fuck he is going to make this work.

How he ended up landing someone like you is still beyond his rational understanding. You are too good to be true and booking a surprise romantic getaway, in any other situation, would be a gift. A luxury, even. Time spent with you, secluded, watching the autumn leaves fall? He couldn’t dream of anything more but next week simply does not work for him.

Pressing the screen of his phone wildly, he swipes through apps until he finds his moon phase tracker, popping open the calendar to see when exactly the full moon falls. He’ll get more details from you later but if you booked it from Monday to Sunday, he may be able to pull off leaving early but staying for most of the time. The full moon falls on Friday and realistically if he spent the week with you up until Thursday, he may be able to pull it off.

Sighing, he slumps down on the edge of his bed and scrubs his hand over his face. The luck he has had over the last few months hiding his secret from you has been nothing short of fortuitous and he’s glad for your trust in him even though it eats him up to lie about his whereabouts for a week every single month. 

Putting you at risk is the last thing the man would ever want to do so he’s already taking a huge chance trying to make this week work knowing that his hormones are stronger in certain months rather than others. He has felt overcome by his instincts this entire month, it’s the reason he has buried himself in busy work rather than spending his free time with you, but he knows that if he hangs you out to dry this week it could result in him losing you.

That’s simply not an option he’s willing to entertain so he will figure it out despite how it makes his gut twist and his mind race. 

Swiping off of the moon cycle app, he opens his messages and the cursor blinks at him tauntingly while he considers what to say. 

I can come along Monday through Thursday if that’s alright with you?

Tapping the little blue arrow that sends the message off to you, he feels a weight on his shoulders that he can’t quite name. It’s sadness because he knows eventually he’ll have to tell you the truth about himself or let you go but selfishly, he wants to put it off for as long as he possibly can. 

Something about you makes him believe that those old stories his dad told him growing up about their kind having fated mates may have been true. His mother was his father’s mate, she knew of his secret and kept it until the day she died, and despite this harsh world, Kakashi has always kept the smallest kindling of hope that it could be true.

Then he met you and his body all but told him it was, the ruts coming more consistently and stronger, lasting for longer than they ever have. What started as one day a month he had to hide away to keep from exposing himself became two days, and then three, and then an entire week having to seclude himself from you to keep from giving into his more base urges.

Another sigh leaves the man and he taps his feet against the floor beneath them impatiently, clutching his phone in his palm. Three pings in succession make him lift it to his face, squinting slightly thanks to the brightness of the screen, but he smiles reading your words.

Omg yay!!! 

I’m glad to get you for even that long

Thank you for making it work for me

It’ll be a risk but he’s willing to take it to see your pretty smile and to spend time cozied up reading and watching your silly shows and enjoying each other. 

It’ll all be worth it as long as he can keep control.

The days leading up to the trip pass uneventfully for you but Kakashi feels differently with each hour that passes, especially today.

He’s hot. Cloyingly and overwhelmingly, to the point he has to lay on his couch in nothing but boxers and an old tank top dug out of the back of his dresser drawer to try and cool down. Sweat glistens across his skin and his very bones ache, all of the blood in his body running to his cock and making it impossible for him to think.

When you arrive at his apartment to spend the night in order to make leaving in the morning simpler, you’re shocked to see him lying on the couch with one hand down his boxers halfheartedly playing with his hard cock with one arm thrown over his eyes. His cheeks are pink and he’s panting, only glancing up briefly when the door opens and shuts. He scrambles to sit up but you can tell he’s struggling, his abs tensing with every breath he takes.

“Oh babe, are you alright?”

Dropping your bags at the front door, you rush to his side and kneel on the ground next to where he is strewn across the sofa. You press the back of your hand to his clammy cheek and coo, your other hand tangling in his unruly hair and combing it away from his forehead. He doesn’t uncover his eyes but his breathing is so heavy you worry something is seriously wrong with him.

“Kakashi, what’s wrong? Are you sick? Do you need to go to urgent care?”

He shakes his head and groans, chest still heaving and you notice the tip of his cock peeking above the waistband of his boxers. It looks the same as you remember it in every way except for the color - so red, as if it’s blushing to be spotted and leaking a pool of sticky pre-cum onto the barely exposed skin his tank top isn’t covering. You know the two of you have been too busy the last several days to spend much quality time together and sex hasn’t been possible but you’ve never seen someone so horny they’re actually ill because all current signs point to that being the exact issue.

“Talk to me. What’s going on?”

Embarrassment keeps him from opening up. Kakashi is ashamed of who he is, a beast more than a man, and he’s even more ashamed that he has no way of keeping the secret from you any longer. This rut is too strong and he needs you to leave lest his instincts take over his logic. Pulling his arm from over his eyes, he tries to sit up and you assist him to the best of your ability, his cock throbbing through the thin fabric of his boxers and catching your eye despite your attempts to focus on his handsome face. His stormcloud colored eyes have never looked more tumultuous than they do right now and you reach out to cup his face, only for him to gently grasp your wrist and pull you away.

“Don’t touch me.”

The look on your face, brows pinched and mouth agape, reminds him that he’s a monster and not a man and he should have never brought you into his life. The only thing he can do is hurt you. His grip on your wrist is gentle and he loosens it further but you capture his hand in your own, eyes brimming with tears of frustration. 

“Please tell me what’s happening,” your voice cracks as you speak and you feel warm tears spill down your face, irritated by your own ability to hold it together, but your worst fears are coming true in front of you. Something is off about your boyfriend, you were right, and now he’s denying your touch when he clearly needs it. “I just want to know the truth.”

The truth would be a heavy burden for both of you and the last thing he wants to do is force you to carry it with him despite the pleading look in your eyes and your quivering bottom lip.

“What are you hiding from me?” 

Your voice cracks again and his heart breaks all over, gray eyes trained on your face despite his disgust with himself. Despite the tears and the way they blur your vision, you scan his face and drink in every feature because despite how you feel right now, you love this man. You were hoping to tell him so this week, tucked away in the idyllic countryside, and now you feel the dream slipping away from you.

“Are you married? Do you have another life?”

Desperation for the truth makes your hands shake and he shakes his head, blowing a breath out of his lips. He continues to feel so hot it’s painful, like he’s burning alive, and he is resisting inhaling and choosing to breathe through his mouth instead to keep from catching your scent that is gradually replacing all of the fresh air in the apartment. 

Allowing you to hold his hand, he sits forward and looks you in the eyes. If his gut feeling is real, if what he believes about you is true, then he needs to be honest. If you are his mate then you’ll understand. His voice shakes when he speaks and you scoot forward on your knees, closing the distance between your bodies as much as possible, still kneeling on the floor next to him. 

“I think I should be offended that you’d even think that about me.”

Despite yourself, you laugh and he hides a smile of his own, eyes darting away from you. He pulls you up to your feet and scoots over on the couch, hissing as you occupy his space even further. You are affecting him more strongly than you ever have and his self control thins with every moment that passes. 

“I’m sorry, I just don’t know what else to think. The weeks away, the secrecy, all of it…my mind has filled in the blanks I don’t understand.”

Kakashi nods. He understands, he truly does, knowing that his behavior has been less than exemplary while he has tried to keep his secret from you, but he wants to right his wrong while his mind is still clear. His cock throbs angrily, still pressing against the bottom of his stomach even while he sits, and he knows it’s now or never.

“This is going to sound ridiculous but I’m not what you think I am.”

Tilting your head to the side, you look over your handsome boyfriend and wonder what he could mean. Is he lying about his job or where he’s from? He can tell you aren’t following so he looks away from you and tries again, spitting out the words he himself has tried to run from his entire life.

“I’m only half a man, the other half of me is something else entirely.”

Again, you look lost and he grasps your hands in his own hot ones and chuckles, letting his eyes shut.

“Werewolf. I’m a werewolf.”

He opens his eyes at the sound of your surprised laughter and he’s met with the smile he has found himself falling more in love with every single day, your nose scrunching the way he finds utterly adorable.

“Kakashi…” you start but he squeezes your hands and shoots you a look so earnest you feel guilty for ever questioning him. His cheeks have turned from pink to flaming red, the same color as the engorged tip that is still peeking out over the top of his boxers. Your jaw drops and he groans, eyes falling to your lips. 

“What is happening right now is called a rut and unbonded men like me go through them occasionally.” You nod, understandingly. You are always unfailingly kind and patient to him, more so than he deserves for lying to you all these months. He takes your silence as permission to keep speaking and you remove your hand from his to push his sweat slicked hair off of his forehead, noticing the way his nostrils flare with your touch. “Mine have been happening more frequently than that, though, because of you.”

He expects to have lost you again and to see confusion on your face when his eyes flit up to look at you but instead he sees a sweet, almost nervous, half smile. You don’t know what he means or how you could possibly be affecting his rut but the insinuation that you have this strong of an impact on him is flattering to say the least.

Arousing too, you think while pressing your thighs together. Your focus shifts from the heat in your own core to Kakashi and you lean your head on his shoulder.

“How can I help you through this?”

Your boyfriend is far from shocked that this is your next question for him but he’s grateful, shaking his head and gazing at you nervously from the corner of his eye. You have been surprisingly okay with everything so far, or at least it seems like it, but he worries how you’ll react if he tells you everything. 

“Well, ruts are usually resolved by…well, for lack of a better word, mating.” Nodding, you keep your cheek pressed to his shoulder. “It’s not just, you know, having sex like we usually do. It’s more than that.”

You shift where you sit and he watches you intently, gasping when you move to straddle him and sit on top of his thighs. His bulge presses against your core and you hum, still combing your fingers through his hair. Those instincts he was dreading continue to work at him, his mind all but overwhelmed with the sight and scent of you, and his mouth fills with saliva.

“I can handle a few days of fucking if that’s what will make you feel better,” you smile and press a kiss to his forehead, his hands finding their way to your hips and holding them tightly. His grip is harsher than he has ever touched you but it doesn’t hurt, it’s simply anchoring you in place. “But if that’s not all, I will do anything you need.”

He chuckles lowly, the sound sexy and ringing in your ears, and you instinctively grind down on his lap to relieve the tension of your own arousal. It doesn’t take much to turn you on, not when it comes to him, but the mystery of what you have to look forward to makes your head swim. 

“I, uh…well, I’d need to knot you.”

Your eyebrows raise and your eyes glisten with mischief watching him search for the right thing to say. 

“What does that entail?”

Again he sighs, cock throbbing painfully, and you press your lips to his forehead again. He holds you in place to keep your hips from grinding or bumping against him. His mind is growing fuzzier with each passing second and he doesn’t need the encouragement of your luscious hips to turn him into something he can’t explain away with a conversation. He’s teetering on the edge of it anyway.

“You’re familiar with my dick, of course, but when I’m rutting it’s different. It’s…” He trails off again and you reach down between your bodies, snapping the elastic waistband of his boxers. You smirk, the little temptress that you are, and he groans in defeat.

“Show me.”

Despite his brain telling him not to, he nods, happy to bend to your whims as long as you’re okay with what you see. He shifts where he sits, keeping you anchored to his lap with one hand and he uses the other to pull his boxers down around his thighs. You gasp when you notice the thickened base, larger than you’ve ever seen it and swollen. 

“This is your knot?”

He nods, eyes fixed on your face as you inspect the newest part of his anatomy, to you anyway, and he’s relieved to see nothing but curiosity on your face. Your hand drifts back between your bodies and you squeeze the base of him, his knot almost too large for your hand to wrap around, and his hips buck into the touch. He pants, chest heaving with each breath, but you keep your grip intact.

“So let me make sure I have this right,” you start and he nods to indicate that he’s listening despite the overwhelming pleasure he’s feeling at your touch, lower lip tucked between his teeth. “You need to knot your mate to get through this and feel better?”

He nods again, happy that he doesn’t have to explain the gory details and that you were able to fill in the blanks on your own.

“Do you know who your mate is? Is it someone I need to go find for you?”

Shaking his head, his brows furrow.

“You are my mate. That’s the only explanation why my body is reacting like this to everything about you.”

His voice sounds strained, struggling to hold onto his humanity with each passing second. You mercifully let go of his knot, the relief on his face disappearing when you do, and you lean forward, just inches from his lips.

“Then fuck your mate and feel better, baby.”

Sealing your offer by pressing your lips against his, you’re shocked to find that they’re as hot as his hands, his body, his cheeks, but they feel like home to you and the sloppy sound of your tongues running against one another in open mouthed kisses fill your ears. His grip on your hip tightens and he does his best to remain gentle as he slides you off of his lap and places you on your back on the sofa below you. He pauses for a moment to glance over your face, to be absolutely certain that you still want this, and you smile at him.

Reaching for the button of your jeans, he helps you slide them off and tosses them across the room, your panties coming off with them and the rest of your clothes in short order. He wants to shred them, to see the pieces fall and flutter away from your beautiful body, but he holds himself back.

This is just the beginning of his rut, after all, and the two of you are bound to have a very interesting week ahead of you so he savors this moment, the first that he can be who he really is in front of someone he loves.

It’s freeing and terrifying but his cock is throbbing so painfully he can’t focus on anything else.

“Tell me if I’m hurting you, okay?”

You nod when he slots himself between your spread legs, his boxers and tank top gone. Your cunt pulses at the sight of him, walls clenching almost painfully around nothing as you look at the size of his knot and wonder how you’re meant to fit it inside of you, but he quiets your wandering mind by leaning down and pressing his chest to yours, kissing you sloppily.

“God I love you,” he mutters and you hum in agreement.

His mouth is wetter than it ever has been, a side effect of his current state, and saliva drips down both of your chins and drips into the valley between your breasts. You moan into his mouth and your hips cant and grind against his erection that slips into the cleft between your pussy lips and he feels himself slipping further and further into the basest of his needs, the warm slick seeping from your cunt a nectar he can no longer resist.

Kakashi’s fingers slide down your body, dragging through the pool of saliva between your breasts, down your torso, across your belly button, and finally down to your aching pussy. He makes himself useful quickly, one of his long digits replacing his cock and running through your soaked folds. You whine, hips bucking, and he increases the pressure of his finger as he slides it over your slippery clit.

“My pretty little mate is so eager for me, huh?”

Nodding dumbly, you spread your legs further hoping he’ll take the hint to get moving to where you need him the most. Your eyes dart from his face to where his finger slowly slides inside of you, warmth accommodating the digit with ease thanks to how soaked you are, and sweet relief washes over you. Tipping your head back, you softly moan beneath him while he works you open for him - he’ll need all the help he can get if you’re going to take his knot, and a second finger joins the first while his thumb massages your clit just the way you like.

“Oh baby, you feel so good.”

You nod and hum, hips grinding into every thrust of his fingers in and out of you, the sound of your own sloppy pussy making your breaths stutter. Who would have guessed you’d be so into finding out your boyfriend’s not so little secret? 

His fingers continue to spread you open, shifting and grinding against the spot deep inside he knows drives you wild, and you know you’re about to cum for the first time tonight when his thumb grinds small circles directly into your sensitive clit. Your back arches off of the couch and you clench around his fingers, mumbling his name. His lips find yours, chests still pressed together, and you whimper into his mouth while your legs shake.

Withdrawing his fingers from inside of you, he holds them up and spreads them apart, breaking away from your lips long enough to let you look at the slick that webs between them when he does. You gasp, his fingers glistening with your arousal, and he smirks.

“Think you’re wet enough for me now. Gonna stuff you full of me, is that what you want?”

Nodding, you shiver, catching a glimpse of the hunger in his eyes. He’s the same man you love and have known for all this time but there’s a hunger you can’t wait to sate dancing in his eyes. Your cunt clenches again, finally ready for more after your orgasm, and he reaches between your bodies to position himself at your entrance.

The first inch isn’t anything you aren’t used to but you still gasp as he slides himself inside of you, your nails digging into his shoulder while his blunt head prods at your eager cunt, slipping inside with ease. He sinks deeper and deeper and you gasp breathlessly when he stops just short of the inflamed knot at the base of his cock.

“Can’t go all the way in, not yet,” he explains, grinding his hips and guiding them to make sure the head of his cock brushes against the same spot his fingers were just working. You are breathless, wordless, and completely overwhelmed, deciding to let him have his way with you however he needs. His hands travel the expanse of your waist, settling on either side of it, thumbs brushing the underside of each of your breasts that bounce slightly with each movement he makes.

He isn’t satisfied keeping his hands at your waist, though, and one travels back down your stomach and rests in the hair covering your mound. He loves the feeling of the hair between his fingers and he stretches his hand so that his thumb brushes against your clit, maintaining steady pressure on the bud while he grinds and thrusts in and out of you.

“Baby,” you coo from beneath him and he smirks, leaning forward enough to fold your legs up against your sides. Your thighs are pressed against your torso and your knees rest by your ears, the shift in position making you groan, shocked at how deep he is despite the whole of him not even being inside of you. “Need it all, Kakashi, please.”

How can he deny you when you ask so sweetly and he’s so close to cumming himself?

Shifting his own position so that he is practically mounting you, the front of his thighs pressed to the backs of yours. It feels like you can hardly breathe with how he has you folded but you don’t mind, succumbing to the mind numbing pleasure of the additional inches of him slowly sinking inside of you.

“Tell me if it hurts, okay?”

You nod, licking your lips, and he continues to push what remains of his cock inside of you. His hips grind and shift and you do your best to lift your own to meet him but he stills you with the hand spread over your pelvis, pressing directly on your clit while you stretch to accommodate his knot that slowly slips inside of you.

The stretch is delicious and your lashes flutter against your cheek, eyes rolling back into your skull. He thrusts shallowly, not wanting to release his knot from your warmth, but he gives in quickly and withdraws his knot. You gasp at the loss of the fullness but he’s quick to rectify his wrong, slipping his knot back into you in a quick motion that leaves you breathless. 

“Full,” you spit out with a nod and he chuckles, dipping his head to kiss you again.

“Not as full as I’d like you to be but soon.”

You giggle and kiss him back, his grunts and pants against your lips making you whimper. He’s so sexy and you’re so full of him, your head spinning when his grunts increase in a way you know means that he’s close. His cock spasms inside of you and his thumb doubles down on its ceaseless pace on your clit, his knot swelling as he groans and fills you with his release. His knot remains swollen and keeps his cock in place, the warmth of his spend filling your pussy. 

Reaching for his face, you grab both of his cheeks and kiss him, his thumb still rubbing idle circles on your clit until your hips jerk and the sensation becomes too much. 

“I love you,” you return his earlier sentiment with a smile against his mouth. He smiles and kisses you back, the two of you afraid to part and technically unable with his engorged knot still inside of you.

“We have to stay like this for a little while,” he explains and you nod, eyes glossy and body limp. “Instincts say I have to make it take even if we both know it won’t.”

Smiling, you keep your grip on his face and kiss him again.

“Do you feel better?”

He nods, sighing contentedly.

“For now but we have a long week ahead of us and the full moon is on Friday.”

Dots connect in your head and you giggle, wrapping your legs around his waist while he gradually shifts and rests his head on your chest.

“Good thing we’ll be all alone in the woods then, huh?”

Kakashi chuckles and nods, kissing you between your breasts.

“My thoughts exactly.”

[kbirbpods]

[Podfic Link] | Length: 12 minutes, 9 seconds

Original Work: Green String of Fate by @flowerparrish

DPxDC: Danny Fenton/Jason Todd | Rating: Teen & Up Audiences

Summary: 

When Jason dies and then comes back wrong, his soul thread is always there, always visible, always distinct. It is also changed, as if it came back wrong alongside Jason himself: it glows a sickly but vivid Lazarus green.

Notes: Pod-O-Ween 2024 | Prompt: Uncanny + a treat for Flowerparrish!

[noots-fic-fests]

Behold: The Prompts!

We've been spoiled rotten this year with *26* marvelous prompts - a special treat for our 5th annual Fic-O-Ween Fest! How the time flies!

Less than 30 days before posting begins, so get those ideas brewing! As always, late posting is allowed but please don't post early! Write just one, nail all 13 days, or attempt all 26 prompts! Any and all combinations are welcome.

If posting on AO3, please also make a quick Tumblr post with the link so it can be shared here. Or, send me a link via Discord or Tumblr so I can create a post for you.

Happy Autumnal Equinox! The fest approaches!

[be-my-ally]

Autumn Leaves Falling Down

(Like Pieces into Place)

I've inserted the sneak peak/1st part from last week into this to make it easier to locate and read, so if the first 1k reads as familiar that's why.

summary: it's autumn 1972, and Elvis' girl on the side, Laura (from All Revved Up), who is no longer the girl on the side -- has come to stay at Graceland. There's the Memphian, an attempt at a trip to the morgue, and Elvis in a sweater - oh, and smut.

wc: 7.6k

warnings: 18+, kissing, making out at the cinema, there's an argument with Red that results in a gun being drawn but doesn't go off, mentions of dead bodies, p in v sex. this could probably do with a ton of editing but i am fundamentally lazy.

the memphian scenes are totally inspired by @whositmcwhatsit’s The Gate Girl — I've avoided rereading the past couple of weeks to try and forget it but i’ve read it upwards of 55 times and i think i’ve absorbed it all into my brain as fact - and really, she does it much better than me so everyone (if you haven't) pls go and check it out.

October 19th 1972 Graceland.

It’s quiet as Laura pads down the stairs, suspicious of the silence in the house - hoping that Elvis hadn’t actually up and left her on her own. She hadn’t bothered to get dressed, hoping to find him quickly and work out what she should wear today, and besides, it was early - knowing him they’d end up back in bed soon. But she hadn’t really anticipated having to go all the way downstairs before she could call to him. She wraps her arm around herself as she looks around, it’s the first time she’s been cold at Graceland, really she’s only been there a handful of times anyway - and last year in the colder months he’d had her over in Palm Springs. Sure, he kept his room at a frankly ridiculous temperature but under the warmth of his heavy comforter and arm she barely felt it. Now though it feels as though there’s a cool breeze running through the house. The late summer having certainly given way to autumn, bronzed leaves starting to fall off the trees.

Elvis is nowhere to be found as she peeks around doorways and arches, and she wonders if she should give up and just wait for him to show up in the bedroom - but she’s sure he’d have woken her up if he was leaving, so he must be around here somewhere. She’s grateful there’s carpet in the kitchen for her bare toes when she creeps around the corner, the breeze suddenly stronger. The mystery is quickly solved; the door to the hallway flapping from the exterior door being left open. Laura huffs as she slams them shut, but it does at least explain where they’ve all gone (and why it was so breezy in the house). She looks down at herself, considering if she was prepared to venture out, but it’s just this side of too cold, and besides she’s pretty sure Elvis would flip out at her parading outside in just her silk robe. She heads down to the den, intending on just getting a little glimpse before going to get changed.

She quickly spots some of the guys, as she peeks out of the glass, but they’re all just a little too far to the side for her to see everyone. She leans against the windowsill to help her stretch to peer as far as she can out, tiptoes rubbing into the plush green carpet. A football comes flying and Joe comes running past, red-faced and struggling to breathe in an attempt to catch it. She can’t help but giggle watching him as the collection of men come trotting around the corner to join him. Elvis at the end of the group, looking pleased with what had clearly been his throw. Laura leans as close as possible to the window, ducking her head under the little curtain, appreciating the look of him having fun. He’s practically bouncing around outside, dressed casually in a way she hasn’t really seen before - his velour zip-up looking particularly cosy. He’s a little thicker than he was in the height of the summer and in Laura’s opinion it looks good on him; she’s a fan of how he’s styling his hair at the moment too - the slightly longer shaggy length of it that seems to look like he’s either just combed it into a gentle swoop or like he’s been rolling around on it. Both looks make her tummy flip if she looks at them for too long. He’s foregone his tinted glasses, whether because it was overcast and therefore the light manageable to his eyes, or simply from fear of the football being thrown Laura didn’t know. She could, however, just from looking at the set of his shoulders tell that for once he seemed untroubled. As calm as he could ever be, his carefree attitude was evident even from a distance. He spots her at the window after a couple more passes, his face lighting up as he jogged over to the window.

Even though Laura was watching him she still startles when he taps the glass, through the decorative metal, grinning at her. She beams back - thrilled at his happy face.

“How’d’you sleep honey?” He shouts at her, muffled but still audible, she giggles in response - shaking her head at his antics. She’s pretty sure she’s somehow alone in the house, but she wasn’t about to start shouting through a window at him. He folds his arms, leaning back to look her up and down, frowning suddenly and insistently tapping the glass again in mock outrage.

“Get dressed!” Laura shakes her head again, teasing him and watches as he signals something to the boys who all jog off to one side. She’s too distracted by all the movement to notice Elvis himself disappearing, until the door slams open. She stumbles, caught in the drape when she attempts to whirl herself around - but before she can right herself there’s an arm suddenly wrapping around her middle, holding her tight and close. Despite the plush velour rubbing against her back, she can feel the chill on him; they must have been out there playing for a while already.

“Jesus Elvis! You’re freezing!” He shakes his head, laughing and shoving his cold nose into the crook of her neck, “Elvis!” She tries to dance and wriggle out of his hold, but he has a surprisingly tight grip onto her.

“Not my fault Lor! Y’gotta get dressed, honey, catch yer death runnin’ round like this!” He tugs her away from the window, bundling them towards the middle of the room.

“Didn’t need - didn’t need to before.” His hands brush up her sides and she squirms as he tickles her. “‘Fore someone kept shoving their nose places it didn’t be-” Laura yelps when his nose makes another appearance, now with accompanying snuffle-snorting noises. “-long!”

“Oh yes you do. Can’t have you like this -” Elvis holds her with one arm, the other hand trailing down to brush across her bare thigh, large hand parting her robe and pushing up her nightgown. Laura involuntarily clenches her thighs and immediately feels his huff of laughter as he feels it. His voice lowering as he leans closer to her ear, the gentle vibration sending goose-pimples across her skin. “Not like this.” He flicks at the hem, now high enough to send a gust of air across the crease of her upper thigh, just the threat of exposure enough to make her gasp.

He smooths the fabric back down, mock outrage back in his voice; “Anyone could see you!” As if he wasn’t the one exposing her. He prods his long fingers into her tummy, making her crunch in an attempt to squirm away from his tickling, giggling the whole time.

“No, no!” She shrieks, “No more! I give!” He stills his hands and between gulps of air she tells him, “I’ll get dressed! I give.”

“Y’better!” he growls against her ear, squeezing her tight to his torso for a long second before releasing her with a grunt. Self-satisfied smile on his face when he pulls her around to face him, her own rosy cheeks matching his. He flicks at the hem of her nightgown again, shaking his head at her.

“Go on then.” He turns her to the stairs, slapping her behind as she stumbles calling out to her as she heads up the stairs and back up to his bedroom “Hurry! Want you to be my little cheerleader out there!”

So, Laura hurries. She gets ready as quickly as possible; dabbing on a little makeup and brushing her hair. She’s casually dressed when she heads back down towards the back door - jeans and a ribbed rollneck, fully expecting to change again later in the day. She grabs one of Elvis’ coats out of the coat closet on the way, wrapping herself in the thick fabric and liking how it fell past her knees - she’d really not been prepared for this early fall chill, having brought with her light jackets and layers instead of anything with a focus on warmth. Elvis grins over at her, pretending to throw the ball at her when she finally exits the house, and she giggles back at him, standing to the side of their playing space,

“Gimme a E!” She shouts at him, and he roars with laughter, shaking his head as he loudly tells the boys;

“Oh, you’re in for it now! Got my little good luck charm out here, haven’t I? Where’s all your missus’ huh?” Jokingly shoving and jostling as they come in closer. The game continues - seemingly some sort of bastardised version of football wherein it was every man for himself, and Laura contented herself with watching from the sidelines, every now and again giving Elvis an encouraging cheer at what she hoped was a particularly decent run or pass. It was growing a little boring watching by herself and she wondered where all the other wives and girlfriends were, if they’d had other plans or turned down an invitation to watch - or, as she hoped (despite her boredom) if she’d been specially invited out to the boys-only impromptu game. But Elvis looked happy, practically beaming at her every time he ran close by and so she was more than happy to burrow into the lapels and collar of the large overcoat, enveloping herself in his scent while she watched on. It’s only about ten minutes later that he runs past and pauses, hands outstretched,

“Aw, Lor, baby, I’m all chilled to my booones, you gotta warm me up ‘fore I freeze!” He tries to shove his cold hands up her sweater and she shrieks, dashing away from him -

“Oh no you don’t!” He pouts, arms crossed, and she shakes her head, “Not gonna work this time mister, you’ve got icicles for hands, and you can keep them to yourself!” Elvis huff in a faux put upon manner, and calls the boys in;

“C’mon guys, I’m gettin’ bored of kickin’ all your asses… and ‘m hungry - let’s go have somethin’ to eat and warm up a bit.” Laura goes where he nods towards the house, slowing to let him catch up with her and letting him curl his cold hands onto her warm stomach from behind as they walked in together.

Hours later, after the afternoon light had turned to darkness and they’d spent the day fooling around in the house - if she didn’t know better she’d be wondering where all their energy was still coming from - Elvis was again calling for her to get dressed so they could leave for the Memphian.

“Maybe you wanna get changed sweetheart? You know, into, uh, just something, you know, honey, just, just a bit more, uh, flattering…” He’d followed her up the stairs, and she found it hard to be annoyed at his disparaging comment towards her jeans when he’d playfully chased her into the bedroom. Laura shrieked and danced out of his hands, screeching when he got close enough to dig his fingers into the sensitive flesh just above her knee. She careened through the door and they both fell together once he tackled her when she was close enough to the bed.

They ended up rolling around on the bed for a moment, both laughing. She allows him to pepper her face with kisses, rolling on top of him to return the favour. He clings to her, unwilling to let her wiggle off of him even when she tries to lean back fearing she was squishing him. “Elvis, you’ve got to let me get offa you; I bet you can hardly breathe under me!” He rolls his eyes, flexing his forearms as he squeezed her even tighter to him,

“Can’t breathe! I’ll show you can’t breathe.” She can practically feel her ribs cracking and she yelps,

“Elvis!” Elvis laughs, releasing her, making Laura relax on top of him, sinking against his body. She leans back to observe his face, running a gentle hand over his cheek, stroking the side of his intense eyes and trailing it down to trace his plush lips. He playfully nips at her finger, growling and she blushes at how the noise immediately sent her tummy into somersaults. She feels herself tingle at the sensation of his breath on her now damp finger, and her eyes slip closed for a long second. When they reopen he’s staring at her, mouth slightly open, eyes lidded and she no longer cares about being on top of him, his hands sliding down her sides to hold her as she bucks her hips, manoeuvring her to slip her legs on either side of one of his. She grinds down, tangling her fingertips into his sideburns as she captures his mouth again. It’s delicate for one short moment before they both seem to sense an urgency in the situation and she suddenly feels like she’s a willing victim being devoured, his tongue and teeth everywhere all at once. She pulls back to catch her breath, and he chases her lips even then, kissing the side of her mouth until she recaptures his. He ruts up against her once, twice, before stilling and rolling her to the side - Laura lays there panting,

“El, what’s? what’s wrong?” She pauses, she doesn’t want to embarrass him but she can’t help but ask, “Did you - did you, uh, finish?” Elvis smiles a little bashfully, eyes crinkling at the sides as he shakes his head,

“No, no, honey, no just, just gonna save myself - be better later if we just wait; I’ve got plans for you this evening, jus - just lemme hold off for the mo.’” She nods, it makes sense, even if she impatiently wanted him now - and she whispers as much against his jaw.

“Want you all the time, want you in the morning, in the evening in the - god, Elvis, I just - I want to be here all the time, want you right now.” He rolls them so he’s leaning over her, caging her in with his arms and wrapping one of his legs between hers.

“You got me darling, you got me - we just, I want to make it special, tonight - just, just cool it baby yeah? Gotta,” He leans forward into her to kiss her, pressing his mouth hard against hers, tongue licking into her long and slow, before pulling back, breathing heavily again. Elvis reluctantly stood up. “Gotta get ready now. Get ourselves looking uh, presentable.” He cracks his back, stretching his arms and Laura feels abruptly cold at the loss of his warm body heat, panting as her heartbeat slows and the throbbing between her legs cools to a faintly warm glow.

—------------

Laura stares at her hair in the mirror, pinning half of it up, brushing through the rest gently, trying not to lose too much of the volume from the day. Her mousy roots are showing from where she dyes it near-black and she absentmindedly makes a mental note to ask if Elvis knows where she can get some dye, or if there’s time for her to go to the hairdressers. He’d already left for downstairs, having gotten changed unusually faster than she had and left the bedroom long before she was done in the bathroom, telling her,

“Take your time, baby, ain’t going nowhere without you.” She’d blushed at her own reflection at her reaction to his words - it had clearly been a throwaway sentence for him, not something she should take to heart and yet she couldn’t resist it. It was too much, too soon, too close to everything she wanted that she could practically feel it fluttering around her head, feeling herself locking it away tight in her chest. It had been on the edge of every interaction with him the past couple of years, the knowing that she was kept around for a reason, and that she kept coming back for a reason. She’d never been much of a fan of the men in Vegas; they were all too lecherous and desperate – even those that weren’t there to partake in all the sins and pleasures. The few dates she’d been on with guys she’d met while working out there had ended fast, and often slightly uncomfortably. Elvis wasn’t like that though. She’d thought he might be, expected he would be - had rolled her eyes at herself when her stomach flipped at his fingers calling her over. Had lain in bed telling herself it was just her stupid crush from years ago rearing its ugly head, making her see things that weren’t there. She wouldn’t ever even see him again, and don’t be stupid Laura, he probably wasn’t all that nice anyway. Besides, he has a wife and she knew enough not to get involved.

But somehow, her feelings and heart ruled over her sense and before she knew it her life revolved around him in a not unwanted way. She’d not had to worry as much about the men in Vegas then, they could behave how they wished — her dating life that had previously been slim was pared down even more, too anxious that she might be out when Elvis would choose to call and she’d miss him or have to explain where she was. It meant dates were few and far between, but as much as she thought herself a terrible idiot - she couldn’t bear to let anything get far enough that she might have to turn Elvis down.

She shakes her head at the reminiscence, it's been years since that first encounter during one of his early residencies. She’s getting too emotional about it now she’s allowed to be here, tangled in the domesticity of Graceland life, allowed to be photographed, and publicised. She just needs to stay in the moment, worry about how her feelings are getting involved when she gets home - she’s only here for a month, she should just make the most of it. She finishes getting ready quicker with that in mind, rushing through her make-up, a voice in her head telling her not to stupidly waste time. Before long she had her mini dress on and shoes quickly buckled before she headed down the stairs.

Laura had seen photos of Elvis when he was younger, knew that he wasn’t opposed to knits, it just wasn’t something she’d yet had the good fortune of witnessing. But there he was, sat on the couch in the music room, waiting for her and everyone else to be ready. Open V neck knitted sweater with a little collar. She stilled in the hallway, reluctant to break his silence. He’s just sat there with his thighs spread and his legs stretched out, arms across the back of the sofa, his eyes closed and head tipped back. She must make a noise, or something, because he suddenly jolts his head up to look over at her. They make eye-contact and she freezes even more still, trapped in his intense gaze. He looks well, like she wanted to climb into him and never crawl out, cuddly and soft and yet thick and masculine. Laura swallowed, her hands shaking a little, as he pats his thigh. How ridiculous that something as little as that could make someone so nervous - she’s just about to take a step towards him, ready to curl into the plush fuzzy softness of his sweater and tangle her fingers in the similarly plush fuzzy softness of his chest hair when there’s a sudden ruckus from seemingly all sides as all the other men and woman, ready for a night out, suddenly appear. Laura mourns the loss of her cuddle, but Elvis’ hand in hers as he effectively shows her off on their way out makes up for it a little.

The step out into the late evening air was even chillier than the day, Laura shivered in her thin jacket - it was downright unseasonable for Tennessee in October to be this cold and she wishes for the second time that day that she’d thought to bring a heavier coat, but then the heavy thump of Elvis’ arm comes down around her shoulder, enveloping her in him. She finds she doesn’t mind the cold so much then, able to enjoy the scent of the wet, crisp fall air and how it just feels different to the summer within the warmth of his grasp.

They’d filtered into the Memphian and Elvis immediately grasped her wrist, pulling Laura with him. He ignored the hustle of the others to head straight up the stairs to the balcony, she goes where he leads - he’d taken her to the Crosstown the last time she’d been in Memphis, so she didn’t really have much choice; not knowing where he was going beyond the ‘balcony’ sign on the door. The door slams behind her, and she jumps at its loud echo in the empty movie theatre.

“I didn’t wanna ‘embarrass you ‘round the guys, I just, uh, want you all to myself.” He pauses while he shuffles down the aisle, “Figured this way,” He settled himself into a chair one row back, in the very centre, “this way you can - “

Elvis suddenly realises she hasn’t followed him down the aisle and laughs, “C’mon, darling, what’chyu standing out there for?” Laura hurries down to him, and he clasps her hand as she gets herself comfortable in the seat next to his, bringing it to his lips. She blushes at the feeling - it was so startlingly romantic that she can’t think of what to say, her heart beating like a hummingbird’s. He settles back into his chair, dropping her hand to stretch his arm across the back of her chair. A couple of the others come thundering up the stairs, laughing and joking, but they go silent when coming through the doors, taking seats right along the back wall - Laura’s head turns to see who it was but Elvis’ hand from her chair blocks its path, two fingers pressed against her cheek as he cups her face - keeping her looking directly at him.

“Don’ worry about them - they won’t bother us none.” She nods, unable to stop herself leaning her head further into his hand — he smiles softly - cheeks crinkling into his eyes. His hand falls to stroke at her shoulder,

“There we are. Now, what was I saying?” He pauses, “Oh, yeah, if - this way if y’get scared I can cuddle ya.” He pauses, “You’re alright with a…. uh…. slasher flick aren’t ya?” He prods her far shoulder.

She nodded enthusiastically, although her head was ringing alarm bells - she wasn’t normally a huge fan of any kind of horror. She lived alone - life was scary enough without worrying about x hiding behind her doors at night.

But any reservations Laura had were quickly lost when after the title card came across the screen accompanied by some ominous instrumentals Elvis’ hand came creeping across to her thigh,

“You scared?” She shakes her head.

“Course not.” He nods, although his smirk suggests he’s unconvinced,

“Good, but just so you know - ‘m packing…. I could protect you from anything. ‘Specially a man.” He’s looking at her almost too seriously, and she feels trapped under his intense gaze, all she can do is nod.

“Of course - I know, I know you would.” He stares a second longer, before leaning back into his chair, and he indicates with his head the unoccupied seat next to him.

“Besides, if you’re just scared, I got my big ol’ flashlight with me too.” She nods again, not quite knowing what to say in reply - she can tell he’s waiting for her to speak though so all that spills out of her mouth is,

“That’s-that’s the police one, right?”

“Mmhmm… got it direct offa the sheriff.” She turns to say something else, but the opening scene starts to play and he shushes her, pulling his hand off her thigh, enrapt in the movie.

Clearly, it fails in holding his attention for very long. Mere minutes later he leans over, sighing, not bothering to try and keep quiet. She squeaks in surprise as his hands grip hold of her arms - tugging her, she scrabbles over the arm of the chair to go where he’s pulling her — arranging her to be sat on his lap. She looks around, suddenly coming to the realisation that at some point he must have shooed away everyone else from the balcony. He tuts, a finger going to her mouth in a keep quiet gesture when she opens it to speak, pointing at the screen as if telling her to keep watching. Laura does, but she’s lost track of whatever was going on and can’t find it in herself to care when she feels one of his hands curl around to creep gently up her uncovered thigh, the other gripping tight on her side, just below her breast. He teases her like that for a few minutes, although Laura’s lost all sense of time, too focussed on the tickle of his fingers and breath on her neck. She can’t take it anymore, turning to throw an arm around his neck, shifting on his lap to draw him into a kiss. Elvis pulls her tighter, fingers tensing, and she moans into him.

He tugs Laura’s leg a little, pulling her to be straddling his lap. She’s embarrassed almost, or would be if there were anyone around, to be sat on his knee like this, rocking against him and necking him like a goddamn teenager. She’s not done this since college, and he feels so different. He’s got solid thighs and sure hands, manoeuvring her and masterfully keeping his lips on hers - just the right amount of pressure, of tongue, and nibbling bites.

Elvis’ fingers slide up her skirt, toying with the fabric of her slip while his other comes around to palm at her like a teenager himself, hand roving over her breast. She gasps into him, pressing open-mouthed kisses to his jaw as she grinds against him. He seems to gain confidence at her reaction, moving to push the wide strap of her dress off her shoulder, tugging it low enough to reach the soft cotton of her bra. His fiddles with her nipples, pinching one just the tiniest bit between his fingers and Laura’s eyes roll back in pleasure. He bumps her panties with the other, but goes no further, moving to grip her back in an attempt to keep her balance on his legs.

She pants, uncaring now if she’s louder than the actors, gasping as he pulls away. She’s never been gladder he’s wearing a v-neck when she rocks against his thigh, leaning forward to suck a bruise against his collarbone. His hips dislodge her accidentally when the pressure gets too much and he bucks up, jerking her away. Laura’s fingers tangle into the fabric on his shoulders, her nails making little divots in the knit; he was going to have to have someone steam this sweater to get it straight again. He’s breathing rapidly against her cheek, hot breath tickling her nose,

“‘s no good baby, I got - I got plans for you tonight.” Laura grinds against him, unabashed at her wanton display.

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah baby, wanna,” His thumb rubs a circle on her hip as he slows his own jerking pelvis. “Wanna show you something. Something a lil’ spooky” Laura grins back at him, hand slipping down between them -

“Oh yeah, you got something you want to show me?” She attempts a particularly awful Transylvanian accent, “Something spooky you wanna show me?” She brushes her hand over the not insignificant bulge of his trousers, the outline of his cock clearly displaying he’d forgone underwear. He moans, eyes closing for a moment before he shakes his head, clasping her wrist and tugging her hand away.

“No, no baby, honey, I got, ah, lord, got something serious I wanna show you.” Laura pauses from her playful wriggling, curious.

“Oh yeah?”

“Uh-huh Lor, but, uh, let it be a surprise.” He pulls up her strap, patting her shoulder.

“A surprise?” She’s unsure now that he’s not joking about sex.

“You trust me, don’t you?” He’s looking at her so earnestly, lip caught in his teeth that she couldn’t dream of refusing him.

“Of course!” He pushes her off his lap, brushing himself off and straightening her collar when he joins her in standing up,

“Well then darlin’ let’s go.” He holds out a hand and seems to take a mischievous glee in practically running away; leaving the boys downstairs none the wiser to their disappearance. He opens the car door for her with an exaggerated wave and bow before trotting around the front to climb in himself.

They pull up to the nearby funeral home and Elvis starts to climb out of the car but Laura stays frozen where she’s sat, more uncertain than ever. “El I’m not sure about this,” He cuts her off,

“Nah baby, trust…you said you trusted me.” He leans down to peer through the door at her, “Don’t go lying to me now, doll, Cilla liked it - she told me herself it was uh, enlightening!” He’s tripping over his words in his haste to convince her. He’d mentioned his trips to the morgue before - endlessly fascinated with the spiritual and scientific notion of the still bodies. But Laura’s conflicted - she can’t help but feel it’s fundamentally disrespectful to stand there gawking at some poor person’s body but, on the other hand, the reverent way he spoke about the trips and his persistent aura of peace means that she can’t help but feel that it’s ok. As long as she’s with him. She nods, climbing out to follow him. He once again takes her hand, and the unease builds again the closer they get to the door - she was concerned before with the morality of going in there but now it’s her squeamish nature that’s starting to make her tummy hurt.

“C’mon hon, it’ll be good for you.”

“If you say so -“ She mutters back. He raps on the door that was now in front of them. There are no lights on, and she shakes her head,

“Elvis - I don’t think there’s anyone in there, they’re closed.” He tilts his head, frowning, as if confused that a door might remain shut to him before insistently knocking again.

“I got, got special permission, Laura, they - they can’t just lock us out. Hello?” He bangs on the window to the side of the door, he huffs, turning away when there’s a sudden loud crash from inside. Both him and Laura jump at the noise, both whirling back - Elvis jogs down the path, standing back to be able to see all the windows but still no light turns on to indicate anyone inside. He marches back up to the door, raising his arm to pound on it again but Laura catches his forearm, tugging it back to her;

“C’mon El - we’ll come back another night. I’m - I’m scared now, and maybe if they know we’re coming they’ll have the lights on…” He looks down at her, gaze softening at the way she’s quivering a tiny bit - a combination of the anticipatory fear, her jumpiness, and the cold.

“Goddamnit.” He swears, “Well, guess we’ll have to come back another night.” He makes it sound like his idea and accompanies it with a shake of his head. Laura had fully expected him to be more annoyed - and he is, somewhat, ranting the whole way back to Graceland; but thankfully less at the funeral home and his inability to sneak in and more at the movie they’d left. Blaming it for his rash idea to come here with no planning involved.

Most of the cars were already back and parked along the driveway when they got there; either the movie had finished and they’d all left before they started another, or more likely - they’d noticed Elvis’ disappearance and abandoned the movie all together. Red shook his head at Elvis as they walked in,

“Man - don’t you go looking at me like that.” Red baulks at the suggestion,

“I wasn’t Boss, wasn’t looking at you like anything, swear it -” Laura tactfully takes a step back, removing her jacket and taking Elvis’ coat in an attempt to remove herself from the conversation. She goes to the kitchen in the hope of finding someone to hand them off to, before taking a second to collect herself to be, hopefully, a calming influence on the raised voices she could now hear. She slinks back into the hallway,

“I can go where I goddamn like - you sayin’ I can’t protect myself?” Elvis’ waving his pistol in the air like he’s in a western, and Laura bites her lip to stop from giggling. Red’s backtracking now, his hands up as if warding Elvis off,

“Of course, I wasn’t - I wasn’t suggesting that I’m jus’ - just sayin’ you disappeared is all and what with the threats -”

“You hear about anybody threatenin’ me at home?” Elvis roars back, his finger inching ever so slightly to the trigger; Laura panics desperate for them to not get into this now - God forbid there had been a threat made, they’d all be up for hours while they reassessed the security. Red shakes his head,

“Well, no - but people move about, EP, they don’t just stay in one-” Laura takes her chance and steps in, lightly touching Elvis’ arm,

“Baby, I’m tired.” Elvis does a double take at her, completely ignoring Red still talking. “Can we go to bed please?” She blinks owlishly at him to convince him to leave it be, and Elvis seemed to relax, his tense shoulders coming down as he lowers his arm with the gun in hand. There’s a long pause,

“Sure, sure, doll, sure.” He gestures for her to go ahead, pausing at the bottom of the stairs, “Get him the fuck out of my house, I’ll talk to y’all tomorrow.” Elvis ignores Red’s reply, climbing the stairs himself. He shushes Laura when they reach his bedroom, fiddling with the security camera feed until he watches Red leave. He sighs, heavily, and shakes his whole body out, “Awh, baby, I didn’t - didn’t need to get all worked up like that, just - those assholes just don’t understand what it’s like to be me. I can’t be all, all, all cooped up like this all the time.” He whines, gesturing expressively as he talks.

“It’s ok.” She shrugs, running her manicured hands gently up his arm, “They can be pretty overbearing huh?” She presses her chin into the crook of his shoulder as he sighs, kneading his biceps. He sighs back at her,

“I know he’s just doin’ his job, but…” He trails off, taking another deep breath, “Anyway, enough of that now. I want to get back to the night - all m’plans were ruined tonight - you deserve well, you deserve the perfect night.” He turns in her arms, and Laura frowns up at him,

“Why don’t you let me worry about that. I’m fine, I’ve had a great night; such a shame about not being let into the morgue…. How about you let me take care of you?” He shakes his head,

“Naw, naw darlin’ I want to -” He cups her face in his hands, the size of his palms dwarfing her cheeks, “want to show you how much I like having you here.” Elvis tips her head up, bending over a little to reach her lips even as she’s stood on her tiptoes.

She’s enrapt in the moment, not really even conscious of his hands fiddling with her zipper on her back until she suddenly feels his fingertips on her bare skin, chasing the zip all the way down until it's falling off her on its own. His hand comes up to clasp her face to his when she moves as if to pull away, using his free hand to shove her dress to pool at her feet. He pulls back with a tug on her bottom lip, and Laura surges forward to hurriedly tug at his sweater - he takes the hint, pulling it over his head and Laura turns her attention to his trousers. He rushes to unhook her bra, even as he stumbles out of his pants, and it's only a few seconds later before her panties join her dress on the floor.

“C’mon now, honey, s’ok, just - just wanna love on you some,” He pulls on her wrist again, smiling almost shyly down at her naked form. Gently lowering her on top of the covers, he kisses her neck, gentle presses of his lips - every few seconds sucking down with a little more pressure in one spot, before moving to the next. He moves down Laura’s chest, one hand on her waist keeping her still, the other joining his mouth. He kisses across her breasts — capturing her nipple in his mouth, he wets it with his saliva, pulling back to blow his breath across it, Laura’s skin pebbling in response as she quivers. Her hands come up to tangle in his hair, and Elvis stills when she tugs just a little too hard - the sting sparkling down his spine. He pants against her, eyes closed as he rests his head on her chest, trying to regain any semblance of self-control so he could continue, his hands splayed across her stomach. The heat that had been building in Laura’s body all day is back with a vengeance, and already she can feel her heartbeat throbbing between her legs.

He presses little kisses down the soft folds of her stomach, and he grunts as he repositions himself up onto his knees. Laura takes a moment to drink in the sight of him - the way his hair is fluffed out from where her hands were just in it, the dark shadow that hints at stubble around his chin catching her attention, and below that a flush that matches hers colours his chest. She’s almost embarrassed at the little moan that slips out of her mouth as she follows, with her eyes, the thick patch of chest hair past his necklaces, and down, down his soft tummy before she rests them onto Little Elvis. Who’s already popped up to say hello, rosy and chubby. He takes her moment of stillness as his cue to go on and shifts one hand to tweak her nipple, the other going down to gently trail across her thigh. Laura gasps, urging him on. He dances his fingers across, hovering them over her until she’s about to beg. The moment his rough fingertip finally touches her she jolts, legs falling open even as her thighs clench.

“Oh Lord, you’re, you’re, Christ Lor, you’re ready for me already.” He strokes his finger up her wetness, adding a second to the mix to expertly spread her sticky folds. Laura tries to respond but all she can manage is a frantic nod as she struggles to find her words while Elvis busies himself with teasing her in little circles, dipping his finger in just the teeniest bit to gather more wetness and bring it back to circle almost directly on her clit. He’s got the same burning focus he does on stage, eyes blazing and his mouth open a little in concentration, pouty lips looking even more appealing in their bitten state. Laura’s eyes fall closed and she feels Elvis’ hand come back to her stomach, pinning her in place while his other plays with her, stilling her jerking hips a little. Laura doesn’t know what to do with her hands, but the problem quickly resolves itself when Elvis leans back to rub his wet hand over himself, before lining himself up and sinking into her hot, soaking, heat. Laura’s hands fall to grip at his shoulders, uncaring of her nails sinking into his delicate flesh.

“El-Oh, god, bit, bit of warning - next time, would be, ah, would be ni-ice.” She was ready but it didn’t stop her from feeling the stretch of him pushing into her. He pauses,

“You want, you want me to, fuck, come out?” He looks pained as he says it, and Laura grins,

“Christ no! Just, give me a-,” She wiggles a little, “No, no. It’s fine.”

“Yeah? You sure, honey? I don’t wanna - meant to be about you baby,” He says this, even as he can’t help but nudge further into her, his eyes begging her to say he can stay.

“Elvis. God, you can move.” He’s slow at first, barely rocking his famous hips, eyebrow quirking as he teases her.

“Yeah, baby? That - that what you wanted?” She groans, red-faced and sweaty,

“Elvis. Please.” It’s the magic word for a reason and he smiles before he concentrates again, his own eyes rolling back a little at the pleasure of it all as he builds up speed, rapidly fucking into her.

Laura rocks her hips into the air, legs shaking as Elvis brings his thumb down to rub directly over her clit, and their tight connection keeps her in precisely the right position even as her legs seem to flail. Her orgasm hits suddenly, and she falls off the precipice with a yell, mouth open and eyes wide as she catches sight of them both in the mirror, Elvis’ sweaty self-satisfied grin as he slows his fingers.

She shivers with the aftershocks, suddenly realising there were tears streaming down her face.

“Oh - Lord, what’s, ugh, what’s wrong baby, am I - am I hurting you?” He slows himself until he’s almost completely still, although, not totally. His voice strains with the effort of not moving, high-pitched, and Laura just shakes her head, “No - honey, I gotta know, you want me, you want me to stop?”

“No, no,” Laura sniffles, “‘s just, just a bit much - please Elvis, I want more.”

“Bit much?” Elvis takes her at her word and thrusts into her again,

“Just can’t get over you wanting me - ‘s just,” she moans, “just over, oh, overwhelming.”

“Baby, you feel what you do to me? What you done to me all day?” He pushes the hair from her face, staring down at her. She gazes back at him, glossy-eyed. “Awh, now baby, don’t look like that - you’re so pretty - Jesus, Lord, even,” He thrusts again, starting to fuck into her at a solid pace, “Even, fuck, even crying baby - makes your eyes all big, and your cheeks all rosy … god you look so fucking pretty.” He drags her even closer to him, his hands tight on her hips and waist, finger bruises being left - she babbles at him that he looks good too, pretty, and handsome and sexy. He doesn’t last much longer, maybe another thirty seconds before he’s shouting,

“Oh fuck, baby,” and his hips still, mouth falling open and his eyes rolling back as he groans. He collapses half on her, half on the bed and despite the almost overwhelming heat of him Laura welcomes the sensation of his heavy presence over her and the way he rubs his face on her shoulder. It should disgust her, the fact that he’s essentially covering her in his musk and sweat, but instead she finds it endearing, her pulse jumping in reaction to it. She kisses the top of his head and he responds by gently pulling out of her, rolling to one side. She tries to find it in herself to be brave, the afterglow making her bolder than she would normally be, but still not quite enough on her own.

“Can feel them cogs whirrin’ from here - did I not give you ‘nough attention?” He rolls over to face her. Laura shakes her head, taking a deep breath - it’s hard to have this conversation when she can literally feel his cum still sliding out of her, and she doesn’t know what she’ll do if he refuses.

“Elvis, can I - I want to stay here. Can I stay?” He pauses,

“For Christmas?” Laura frowns, starting to shiver at the cooling sweat and her stress at the discussion. Elvis tuts, rubbing her arm,

“Well, maybe? I mean I’d love to - if you’ll have me. But I mean, maybe that could - I’d really like to stay with you.” He hums, as if finally understanding what she’s getting at, there’s a long enough pause that Laura opens her mouth to say she didn’t mean it, explain that she was caught up in the emotions of the evening and she didn’t want to - honest, but Elvis beats her to it.

“Well, hon-ey,” He’s talking slower than normal, his southern drawl even more pronounced, “I don’t, I don’t see why not - I sure like having you around.” Laura turns to face him, finally,

“You mean it?”

“Wouldn’t say if I didn’t.” He says it sarcastically but he’s smiling softly at her and Laura grins,

“Oh! Thank you,” He strokes a circle against her arm, and she continues the only thing she can think in her mind that’s not just Elvis Presley agreed I could live with him is the next thing that comes falling out of her mouth, “I’m gonna need a thicker coat.” Elvis laughs,

“Baby, you wait ‘til Christmas - I’ll get you the warmest coat you’ve ever seen.” She smiles back laughing a little with relief, “Now, let’s get you warmed up again.” He rolls himself back over her and she giggles as he digs his fingers into her sides and his lips find hers once again.

—————

taglist!

@thatbanditqueen @whositmcwhatsit @vintageshanny @ellie-24 @lookingforrainbows @literally-just-elvis-fics @missmaywemeetagain @peskybedtime @shakerattlescroll  @arrolyn1114 @from-memphis-with-love @powerofelvis @dkayfixates @18lkpeters @lettersfromvenus

[dionysiaproductions]

The Bride of Frankenstein is My Monster-In-Law!

Journal of K. Peterson, Oct 2, 2024

I found out Ms. Frankenstein’s first name is Lilith and Mr. Frankenstein’s is Adam. (They picked the names themselves.) Shockingly, Mary Shelley’s novel was fairly accurate and all the Frankensteins are big fans of the prose. Well, the monsters anyway. They don’t talk about the other Frankensteins, the human ones.

I think I’m adjusting to my new reality. I must have been horrified initially because Alph kept offering to fly me home between promises that his parents would never hurt me.

His biological parents, who are immortal beings made of dead human body parts reanimated with electricity. —It’s fine, I’m adjusting.— Lilith was some big brain scientist. She was a generational genius even when she was human. After a few centuries of accumulated learning under her belt, she was fairly unstoppable once she set her mind to developing a fertility treatment for…well, whatever they are. It feels a little wrong to call my in-laws monsters.

I came here to plan a wedding and I’ve told Alph I still intend to do that regardless of any unforeseen events.

Previous entries in The Bride of Frankenstein is My Monster-In-Law!

My blog is open for trick or treating on Oct 31 2024, giving out bite-sized spooky stories

[jumpywhumpywriter]

MORE TRICK-OR-TREAT WITH SNARKY SHADOW!

The second most commonly voted reaction to the initial trick-or-treat story request from HERE was "Politely take a small handful of candy, secretly returning Shadow's look, unphased" so here's how she'd react! 😂

Shadow loomed behind him, staring at you intensely with a cruel smirk full of malice as she mouthed a single word:

Run.

You're afraid, but determined not to show it, holding your chin high and taking a pointedly polite handful of candy from the bowl Thomas was offering, holding Shadow's intense gaze the entire time.

It was a dangerous game to play, but you forced yourself to stay calm and composed, appearing unphased by how intimidating Shadow's aura of power was.

And you could have sworn Shadow smirked at you for it, a flicker of newfound respect dancing in her cold eyes. But it was like spitting fire at a lion, a meek human like yourself facing a dangerous predator like her.

But Shadow seemed amused now, and slightly less hostile than before, so maybe she was just testing if you truly deserved to be respected. And you proved yourself by standing up to her despite your fear.

You put the candy in your bucket and turn away to leave after thanking Thomas, when a dark voice sounds behind you.

"Hey, catch--"

You turn back in time to see Shadow toss a small object to you, and you snatch it out of the air with a hand, staring down at it in surprise.

Shadow watches you with an unreadable expression edged with faint curiosity, but gestures with a hand toward the object you are now holding.

"A gift, for your boldness in the face of danger," she rumbled. "For self-defense only, of course. Use it wisely."

You flip the object over in your hand, and realize it's a fancy folded knife with intricately engraved hilt, razor-sharp when you pull the blade out to take a look -- hand-sharpened to a lethal point. Made of a rare and exotic metal meant to last for a lifetime. Clearly one-of-a-kind.

"SHADOW!" Thomas gasped in horror. "You can't give literal WEAPONS out to trick-or-treaters!" His voice rose with alarm.

Shadow shrugged nonchalantly, completely unconcerned."I didn't know there was a 'Human Halloween Rulebook' to follow."

"There isn't one because common sense is supposed to exist!" Thomas barked.

Shadow merely rolled her eyes in annoyance. "If only common sense were a little more common, then," she snarked, "because I see no problem here. You gave them candy, and I gave them something better. That's all . Don't tell me you're jealous that my gift is way cooler than yours!”

Thomas stared at her with his mouth open in sheer disbelief, sputtering for words that wouldn't come.

@scoundrelwithboba @lumpofsand @isikedmyself878 @iamheretohurt @fleur-a-whump

@ay5ksal @otterfrost @sausages-things @togzy

@whump-till-ya-jump @cravesunconditionallove @whumpwritinglover222

[arrolyn1114]

No Tricks, Only Treats, Baby! (An Elvis and Jane Writing Prompt Game Halloween One Shot)

Happy Friday the 13th everyone! This is my absolute favorite time of year, I live for spooky season so I suggested a Halloween/autumn theme for our little group (@thatbanditqueen, @ellie-24, @whositmcwhatsit, @vintageshanny, @from-memphis-with-love, @be-my-ally, @missmaywemeetagain) to do for the writing prompt game. I do apologize that mine is soooo late but this week was crazy busy and I didn't have as much time to write as I would have liked. But that's ok because posting mine on Friday the 13th seems appropriate for me because well, this is me and this is my time of year. It's always Halloween in my soul. 🎃

So, that said, here is my little contribution for Elvis-O-Ween. This is pure fluff and smut and I had entirely too much fun writing it. I hope it ends up being worth the wait for you guys. As with my previous one shot with these two, nothing relevant to the plot of the main story except for the explanation behind Elvis's nickname for my OC Jane. Other than that this can stand alone. And I do promise the next chapter of the main story is coming soon, it got set on the back burner for a bit so I could have some Halloween fun with these 2 so I hope you'll forgive me. (Links to main story and previous one shot under the cut if you need them.)

Tag list is under the cut, I do hope it works correctly but we all know Tumblr can be buggy and well, it IS Friday the 13th soooo...you never know. @samfangirls I know you're not on my tag list for the main WIP but I'm tagging you in this because I feel like you'll appreciate the costumes I picked out for Elvis and my OC. 😁 ENJOY!!

WC: 3548

@thatbanditqueen, @be-my-ally, @ellie-24, @whositmcwhatsit, @vintageshanny, @from-memphis-with-love, @xanatenshi, @karel-in-wonderland, @peskybedtime, @alienelvisobsession, @shakerattlescroll, @deke-rivers-1957, @louisejoy86, @artlover8992, @windsofthesea, @gayforelvis, @notstefaniepresley, @lovininapinkcadillac, @dkayfixates, @jaqueline19997, @presleyenterprise, @crash-and-cure, @literally-just-elvis-fics, @wildhorseinkansas, @tacozebra051, @lookingforrainbows, @kaitaesupremacy, @powerofelvis, @ashtag6887, @myradiaz, @richardslady121, @elvisrealgf, @genetakovicluvr, @thetaoofzoe, @mydarlingelvis

@j-v-9-2

@mspoisonivey

@aaron57070

@rainyday10-4

@rocknroll50sep

@dream-in-x-dream2

@sasural

@satisfy-the-crave

@velvetelvis

@sillybookmarks

@everythingelvispresley

@elvisgirly

@1dluver13xx

@thedaisymaisy

@amydarcimarie

@p0lksaladannie, @oh-my-front-door, @fallinlovewithurlove, @shantellescrivener, @i-r-i-n-a-a, @stargirllily19, @laura23elvis, @meetmeatyourworst, @rachelljeann222, @precious-little-scoundrel, @peaceloveelvis, @returntopresley, @tupelomiss, @archival-ep

@kendralavon7 @gatheraheart

[itsaash]

unsatisfyingly satisfying part 2: shivers

Set sometime in the future when our beloved Coops are married and on vacation in Banff :))) prompt and cover art credit to @noots-fic-fests, character credit of Coops to @lumosinlove And shout out to @girlwithcurls96 for helping me and reassuring me about this whole story, and who is the type of friend when you say, "what kind of tattoos should this character have?" comes through with the perfect pinterest board of style inspo to create the OCs of my dreams

“You got the camera baby?” Remus called as he shut the trunk of the white rental car.

“Ouais, et j'ai les collations là.” 

Remus smiled as he translated in his head. Being in Banff National Park, or Parc national Banff as Sirius exclusively called it, with signs and boards and everything in French as well as English, had set Sirius into a firmly French state of mind. Remus was absolutely not complaining, the melodic sounds scratched his brain just right, even if he couldn’t replicate them. He just beeped the car, pocketed the keys, patted his pocket to feel his phone, and caught up to Sirius and took his hand as they walked across the parking lot. 

It was early in the morning, the gondola would be just starting up. They planned their visits to touristy places for the least busy time of day. A good half hour had been spent signing autographs at the Calgary airport when they arrived a few days ago. Canadians knew their hockey players, especially ones who would certainly be on the next Canadian Olympic hockey team. Neither of them minded , per se, but also if they could blend in, well they’d rather prefer that option. 

Typical outdoorsy MEC outfits like every other tourist were their outfits, with a pretty generic blue ball cap for Sirius, and Remus had chosen a fashionable flat brim hat after Sirius had gone silent and staring when Remus had tried it on in the store.  While any claim they had to disguise was low, their main hope was that most of the people who rode a gondola on a Thursday morning wouldn’t also be hockey fans. Banff had been great so far, busy streets of tourists to blend into while eating elephant ears, a hike yesterday to lakes the most fucking amazing color of turquoise where everyone nodded their head and said hello as they passed on the trail, and today they were heading up the gondola. It was a warm July day and Remus knew heat would start to gather soon, but it felt so fresh here in the mountains, always a breeze, really it was nearly idyllic. Even here, in a busy parking lot, dozens of cars already and pavement for hundreds of meters, it still somehow felt rustic. That was the influence of the towering rough mountains he supposed. They were everywhere here, he had never been in the mountains like this. He squeezed Sirius’ hand as they walked, his head turning to take it all in. 

“The view doesn’t get old, eh,” Sirius laughed as he took in Remus’ wide eyes. 

“Literally never. There’s just mountains everywhere .”

“And here we go, up another one,” Sirius said. 

“Can’t wait,” Remus said, squeezing Sirius’ hand with excitement again, taking in the grey of Sirius’ eyes and comparing it to the grey of the mountains. The mountains were undeniably majestic, but that blue grey gaze was still his overall first place favourite.

Remus scanned the tickets on his phone for the agent with the usual “bonjour, hello” passed between them and joined the small line of people waiting to board the gondolas. They wound through the roped off area, back and forth across the loading area as the line moved, reading the information placards as they went. Remus challenged himself to read the French versions and asked Sirius for help with some words, just to hear him say them, to see Sirius’ eyes smile when he heard Remus say the words back as best he could. They passed the time in the line quickly like this, passing words in French back and forth to each other quietly, almost like bubbles of love being traded between them, like emotional kisses, like whatever the sounds are that are in my mouth, they always mean I love you. 

Remus vaguely knew from the corners of his attention that the people who worked for the Park were working with the line, fitting groups together into gondolas in the most space efficient way, calling for single riders to come join groups of 3, putting two couples together, keeping kids with their parents. There was a large family ahead of them and Sirius and Remus had been half-hearing conversations about snacks and who would sit by who and where’s my water bottle and dad, what if we see a bear ?? So when the attendant called, ‘next group of two? Un groupe de deux?’ looks travelled down the family and passed like dominos to Sirius and Remus. 

“On est deux,” Sirius said, knowing everyone who worked for the Park spoke at least some French, and he was loving using it at every opportunity.

“Allez, on y va,” the attendant said, waving them over. Sirius and Remus kept their hands clasped as they snuck past the big family, Remus murmured an, “ope, sorry,” as they made their way to the front of the line. They boarded the open gondola, sitting down on one side together as the doors slid closed and the gondola started moving.

Remus was just starting to look out the floor to ceiling window, seeing the expanse of nature below them, all around them once they were past the loading area of the building, when he heard,

“Sirius Black?? ”

Oh shit. They were on a gondola with a fan. Well, hopefully a fan, god, imagine if it was someone who wanted to lecture them for the whole 8 minute ride. Sirius would give them his stony cold game face, and inevitably the person would back down, but it would be so awkward.

But Sirius hadn’t said anything. He was just staring, mouth slightly open. Time passed in frozen silence, enough time that Remus darted his eyes back and forth, from Sirius’ frozen form, to the two girls sitting across from them. One had a ball cap on with a dark ponytail floating out the back of it and her tank top showed clearly well developed biceps and deltoids, hiking shorts and shoes. She  was nearly as slack jawed as Sirius. The other girl was much more fashionable, in pants that were somehow loose but still fitted, and a cropped shirt (sports bra? what did Remus know about women’s fashion), clean white runners, long curly blond hair pulled into a messy half bun. It was still Banff and hiking appropriate except everything about her outfit and hair seemed to be on purpose in a way that none of the rest of them could claim. She seemed to be trying to read the situation as much as Remus was, and after long seconds she was the one to break the silence. 

“Rebecca? You know him?” 

The other girl, Rebecca? Almost literally shook herself out of her surprise and laughed, a smile coming over her face. 

“Oh my god, what are the fucking chances? Yeah, well, I mean, Sirius and I, well, yeah, we’ve met.”

Remus felt his eyebrows raise at her faltering tone and he looked to Sirius who didn’t seem ready to say words of any language yet. So Remus spoke first. 

“Oh, well hello. I’m Remus. It’s nice to meet you,” and he put his hand out to Rebecca to shake. She smiled more, her eyes taking him in and she took his hand. 

“Hi Remus, I’m Rebecca. Nice to meet you. This is my girlfriend Claire,” she said, gesturing at the well dressed girl. “We’re just touring the area, on vacation, I guess you must be too. It is the offseason I guess? I can’t believe we’re on the same gondola as you, what even is this.”

Remus felt himself relax, girlfriend, ok so they weren’t in for an 8 minute lecture. That was something at least. He turned to Claire and shook her hand too. His eyes travelled up and down her tattooed arms, all thin lines and curling shapes. He especially noticed a beautiful one of a star surrounded by a circle on the inside of her elbow, but the whole thing was made of flowers and vines in light colours.

“Nice to meet you too Claire. Are y’all hockey fans then?” he asked, glancing repeatedly at Sirius, who was still seemingly frozen. He pressed his palm against Sirius’ thigh, hoping to ground him with touch. Feeling more than a little bit like he needed that too.

Claire laughed, a high, bright sound. 

“No, I can’t say I am. Is that how you know him, sweetheart?” Claire asked her girlfriend. 

“I, um, well yeah, kind of. We met at a media weekend where they were doing stories on a bunch of athletes for a magazine,” Rebecca explained, her gaze bounced between Sirius, Remus, her girlfriend, back to Sirius.

Remus nodded. Well that made sense. What didn’t make sense was that Sirius hadn’t said a single fucking word. He turned toward him, angling his body towards his husband so he could mouth as much as say, ‘ça va, baby?’ 

Sirius started bobbing his head. Remus saw him take two purposeful breaths, close his eyes for a long moment, and then open them again with his media smile on.

“Désolé, sorry, sorry Rebeccca. You just surprised me,” he took off his hat, ran his hands through his hair and replaced the hat. “Wow, yeah, it’s good to see you. Like you said, what are the chances?” 

“What media thing was it that you did?” Remus asked lightly, hoping to soften whatever the fuck this atmosphere was. 

“That one in New York that Pots and I went to? During your third season with the team, I think?” Sirius said. He looked deep into Remus’ eyes and took and squeezed his hand. Remus didn’t know why Sirius needed comfort, but he clearly did. So he scooted as close to Sirius as he could on the bench, held his hand, and tried to send comfort like osmosis. It seemed Sirius may have received the offering because he seemed to relax a degree or two. 

“Rebecca was on the olympic rugby team that got a medal at that olympics a few years ago,” Sirius supplied, gesturing to her. “Or maybe you still play?”

“Yeah, I do actually!” she replied. “I’m not a starter anymore, but I still have one more Olympics in me. The team has been doing so awesome, it’s been such an sweet ride.”

“Oh wow, that's amazing!” Remus said, meaning it, and hoping to take the conversation in safer territory. “Are you on a break from training right now? Being a tourist for a bit?”

“Yeah! It’s so beautiful out here. And it’s nice to have time to take in the sights. We travel for matches all the time, but it’s never very long in one place. We played a match near here last season, and it was so beautiful I knew I needed to bring Claire back here.” She smiled at her girlfriend and took her hand. 

“So you’re a hockey player?” Claire asked Sirius. He smiled a small smile and nodded, maybe started to say more while gripping Remus’ hand, but Claire continued, “that’s nice, but you two obviously slept together, right?” she said, gesturing between Rebecca and Sirius.

Rebecca just laughed, Sirius’ mouth dropped open, and Remus startled like he’d been shocked.

“That’s what this weird vibe is?!” he asked Sirius, half laughing, half horrified. “Oh my god, well, I get it now.”

Sirius dropped his head into both his hands, shaking his head, and then his shoulders were shaking, until his whole body was quivering with laughter. 

“Mon dieu, sorry, Rebecca… Re, I’m sorry.” Laughter bubbled out of him.  “I don’t know why I locked up, I got thrown back in time there for a minute, in my head. I’m ok now, sorry. Rebecca, it really is good to see you, I just was so surprised.”

Remus just shook his head. He’d be pretty shocked in the same situation too. The air already felt clearer, Sirius’ laughter had dissipated most of the awkwardness. 

“So you’re bi too then?” Rebecca asked. “Or pan maybe? I saw you two in the news of course, oh god I didn’t mean to bring that up, I just mean, obviously you’re married now! Congratulations,” she seemed to force herself to stop talking and Remus laughed. 

“Yeah, we got married last summer, it was amazing.”

Sirius smiled at him, the smile they always had when they thought about the lake house and their friends and family and the perfect haze of happy memories that surrounded that day. Sirius took a deep breath and turned to Rebecca.

“Yeah! But, um, no. Uh, I’m actually gay. That’s probably why I froze up there for a minute. But if you’re queer too that makes me feel a lot better, I think I panicked for a second that there would be flirting? Sorry, sorry.” he said, looking back and forth between both Rebecca and Claire.

Claire laughed, “Oh there could still be flirting, I’m afraid. You’re just her type in guys. I’m gay too, but my sweetheart here had a later in life bi awakening, much to my benefit.” She got closer and closer to Rebecca’s neck as she said this, and ended with a soft kiss to her jaw. Rebecca smiled a soft smile at her girlfriend, but then turned to Sirius, more serious. 

“Wow, so, um, that night must have been hard for you then? I feel like I should apologise. I think I kissed you first that night.”

Sirius shrugged his shoulders like his shirt was too tight, and Remus studied his reaction, taking his hand in both of his now, and drew circles in Sirius’ palm with his thumb. Sirius rubbed the back of his head with his other hand before answering. 

“No, please don’t apologise. You couldn’t know, I didn’t know. Well I knew, but I didn’t know . It’s not like you were the only girl I was with. I thought I just had to meet the right girl. And actually you helped with that, because you were so amazing. Beautiful, and fun to be around, and athletic and funny. And it was still… fine.” Rebecca laughed and faked hitting her heart with her fist like a stab. “No, I don’t mean it was bad! It was fine! Shit I keep saying fine… it was…” Sirius trailed off, looking to Remus, clearly now developing an aversion to the word fine. 

“Sirius, Sirius, it’s ok. I get it. The comphet comes for us all, doesn’t it?” Rebecca said. She started off half laughing, but her voice was full of authenticity by the end of her sentence. 

Remus kept running his thumb over Sirius’ palm in soothing circles, and Claire lifted her arm up to trace the edge of the window, and then put it around Rebecca’s shoulders, hugging her close. 

In the moment of silence that followed, the gondola slowly swung to stop. They all looked around, looking down at the magnificent view really for the first time since they got on the thing. 

“Huh, they must be stopping it to help someone on or off, I guess,” Remus said. A shiver had come over him as they swung to a stop, but it passed. The others nodded in acknowledgment as they swayed gently. 

“You were my last,” Sirius said into the silence. “My last time with … with a woman.” Remus raised his eyebrows at Sirius. “Well, I kissed other girls after that, only in public, but I knew after that night with you that I wanted to be with guys. Even if I didn’t let myself actually do that for a long time yet, at least I knew.” He paused. “Sorry,” he said again.

Rebecca laughed. “Honestly Black, it really is ok, stop apologising. I’m a little surprised, for sure, because for me it was really good. Like, really good. Like I-never-found-a-guy-as-good-again good, despite giving it an honest try. Had to fully just move onto women, good. So I might be questioning my perception of reality a little bit over here, but you don’t have anything to apologise for.” 

Remus was processing, hardly believing the turn this gondola ride had taken, but had to smile at that.

“He is pretty good, isn’t he?” Remus said, gazing up at Sirius with mischief in his eyes. “From our very first time, he knew what he was doing. Fuckin knocked my socks off,” Remus laughed. Rebecca joined him and Sirius buried his head in his hands again.

“Right?! His hands –”

“God, tell me about it. And his back?”

“Divine,” Rebecca sighed, tone half teasing and half serious. “And just his size, you know, when he’s on top, fully covering you?”

Remus faked a swoon, back of his hand to his forehead. “It’s amazing. Might be my favourite place in the world to be.” Sirius sat up and smacked Remus’ shoulder. “Re! Stop it,” he laughed.

“Did you get to experience his mouth?” Remus asked, leaning forwards to Rebecca. “Or how his eyes get so intense it’s like they glow?”

“Remus!”

Rebecca sighed dramatically. “I didn’t experience his mouth unfortunately. And I think he must be the only man in history to have turned down a blow job! It was mostly hands and some lovely dirty talk and … well, you know.”

“Oh the French dirty talk,'' Remus fawned, fanning himself with his hand, smiling evilly at Sirius. “It’s so hot.”

Rebecca faked a dramatic gasp. “Is this why you wanted me on my hands and knees??” she asked, gesturing dramatically to Remus. “So you could pretend I was him!?” The words might be accusatory, but the tone was pure glee. “Did you know him then?” she asked Remus. 

Sirius moaned into his hands and ground out what might have sounded like kill me now. 

“I just knew him as the hockey obsessed, tough as nails, never an emotion to be seen hockey captain back then. And I saw him make out with multiple girls at bars after that, so he clearly wasn’t ready for me yet back then,” Remus teased. 

Claire and Rebecca both nodded. “We all have to make our journeys of self discovery in our own time, don’t we,” Claire said. 

“That we do,” Remus said, letting the last of his laughter bubble out of him. They all took in a minute of happy silence, admiring the view. Even Sirius cautiously poked an eye out of the safety of his hands and looked past Remus to see towering snow capped mountains which they were almost eye level with up this high, this ground was really quite far away. Deep green trees transitioned into bright green grass in places, the buildings of the town looked like dots from here, and the fluffy white clouds seemed much closer than he had ever experienced before. 

The peace of the mountains seemed to sweep into the softly swinging gondola and Rebecca turned back to Sirius, still snuggled into Claire’s side. 

“I am sorry though, that society or whatever made you think you had to sleep with me. I’m sorry if I played a part in that,” she said. 

Sirius wasn’t frozen like the snow tipped mountains now, he tried to let his words flow like the breeze instead.

“I appreciate that, Rebecca, I do. But I could’ve said no, and I knew that. I went upstairs with you because I thought I should want to, but I was so deep in the shoulds, that in a roundabout way I did want to. And I’m honestly so glad you thought it was good, that’s like all I cared about.” “I never would’ve known you weren’t into it Sirius, really, it was good.” Sirius rolled his head on his neck, looking sheepish but happy. 

“It’s not that I didn’t think it was good. It did feel good, you’re amazing. I just was also really busy, in my mind. My thoughts were just going in bad circles with pressure and doing the right thing and what you might tell your friends and what I’d tell my teammates … so of course it was harder for me to just enjoy it. But like I said, you were the last time I did that, so I’m also really thankful for that, and for you. If you couldn’t be the right one, I knew there was no point in trying anymore.” He switched his gaze to Remus and his grin turned dopey, “until this one told me he was gay, and that I’d be worth it.”

Remus squeezed his hand. “You are worth it. Every day.” 

“If I may,” Claire said, “it sounds to me like you’re both right. You’re right, my love, to feel a bit weird about learning the guy you slept with doesn’t actually like sleeping with women. But it’s also ok that you still enjoyed it, because you’re always allowed to have your own version of a situation, based solely on your own experience of it. And he was actively trying to have you enjoy it, for different reasons than you thought. There’s no way you could have known his every inner thought.” Rebecca smiled and rested her head on her girlfriend’s shoulder. 

“And you Sirius,” she continued, “it could be interpreted as misleading to have gone upstairs with her, but Rebecca and I, as women who love women, know the strength and seeping nature of comphet, as I’m sure you do too, as a man in a traditional masculine field. It gets into your bones and bosses you around and ties your thoughts up in knots. I’m really glad you freed yourself from expectations to let yourself live. I can tell the two of you are really good together,” she smiled. 

Remus nodded his head along with her and kept drawing calming circles with his thumb around Sirius’ palm. 

“Merci, Claire,” Sirius smiled, “and for what it’s worth, Rebecca, I’m sorry for putting you in that situation.”

“Forgiven, Sirius Black. And thank you for ruining me for other men, so that I could find this goddess,” she leaned up to kiss Claire on the lips, deep and sensual. Sirius thought that looked like a really great idea, and leaned in to Remus. 

“Ça va bien, baby?” Remus repeated, their lips close, breathing each other in and out. He had been pressed up against Sirius’ side this whole conversation, clutching his hand. And now they blocked out the mountains, the uncomfortable seat, the shining sun, and only focused in on each other. 

“Oui. Je vais bien. Etonné. But … also good. Glad to have you, like always.”

“I’ll never be anywhere else, mon mari,” Remus murmured as he leaned in to kiss Sirius. Lost in their kiss, they didn’t notice that Rebecca and Claire were watching them with soft smiles on their faces, Rebecca’s head still against Claire’s shoulder. Claire twirled her hand around and then threaded her fingers through Rebecca’s ponytail, smiling. 

The gondola started moving again, startling Sirius and Remus apart with a smile. They squeezed each other’s hands with a shiver, they both had goosebumps from a brief chill. They all rode the last few minutes how they all had thought their whole ride would go. They pointed out the tallest trees, saw shapes in the clouds, basked in the chance to be so high up and see the world from such a different perspective. Funny how that makes a difference for so many things. 

They all saw the loading area approach, and stayed quiet while they slowed to a stop and the doors opened. They filed out into the visitors center. When they rounded the corner and were away from most other people, Rebecca folded herself into Sirius for a hug, squeezing him, her cheek pressed into his chest. He rested the side of his head against her and held her for a long moment. 

“Despite the shock, it really was good to see you, Sirius. And super good to get to clear the air with you about our night together. I, selfishly, hope you don’t regret it, but it’s ok if you do. I’m still happy to know you. Maybe you can actually text me back now that there’s no big secret swirling over you, eh?” she swatted him in the stomach at the last, and he dodged with an oof and a laugh. 

“Rebecca, honestly, I’m really glad to have run into you like this. Sorry if I was weird. I don’t regret it, how can I, when it was a stop on the path to me finding my husband?”

Rebecca turned and gave Remus a hug too. “Sorry for having your husband before you,” she teased. Remus huffed a laugh, and hugged her back. 

“Good to meet you Rebecca. I’ll forgive you, I suppose .” he joked. “Since I’m the one he’s going home with, I can’t complain.”

“Nope, you have absolutely nothing to complain about, I would know,” Rebecca teased as she took Claire’s hand again. “And I have this goddess now anyways. Bye, guys, take care!” she said as they started to turn away down the boardwalk.

“Enjoy your vacation!” Claire said with a wave, and Remus and Sirius waved as well, standing with their arms around each other’s backs. When they were a good way down the boardwalk Sirius turned and collapsed into Remus’ arms. They stood there amidst the beauty of the mountains. Tourists walked past and around them, taking pictures. They stood long enough for clouds to form and reform shapes, until Sirius could huff out a laugh. “What the actual fuck are the chances.”

“Of you stepping into a 6 foot square enclosed space with the last woman you had sex with? Really, really, really low I’d imagine. Even if we changed the odds to include all the women in general who have seen you naked, the number still has to be…” Remus trailed off as Sirius stood up and pushed him away, grumbling and laughing. 

“Stop teasing me, mon loup, this was traumatising ,” Sirius pouted. 

“Oh baby, I know, I know, come here,” Remus laughed, and gathered Sirius in tight for one more hug. “Let’s look around? And then we can walk down? So we don’t accidentally get trapped with the next least likely person in the fucking world? I can’t quite imagine who that could be at this point, but we’re probably safer on a hiking trail.”

“Let’s get trapped with your college boyfriend, and I’ll make comments about your mouth, tabarnak , that was embarrassing,” Sirius laughed under his breath as he turned to take in the view. 

“I was trying to cut the tension!”

“I’ll cut your tension,” Sirius muttered back.

“Can’t wait, baby,” Remus said with a suggestive eyebrow waggle. Sirius rolled his eyes, and then they did enjoy the view, thoroughly. And they took the hiking trail back down the mountain. 

[givemetherapyimawritingtravesty]

So I've taken to writing snippets apparently, but I'm counting it as a win because I haven't been writing much lately. Here for the first day of fic-o-ween and in just under the wire we have day 1! Big thanks to @noots-fic-fests for hosting and the adorable headers, as always! I'm already devouring the fics popping up on my dash, I'd been craving some more SW verse content recently.

Anyway,, without further ado, some cubs...

“It’s here!” Finn yelled as he let himself back into the warm apartment after his morning run. His cheeks were bright pink from the chill in the air and his hair was askew as he slipped off his running shoes and wandered into the kitchen for kisses before his shower.

“What’s here?” Logan asked, grumpy this early in the morning but awake and standing far too close to Leo to be polite.

“Christmas!” Finn said excitedly.

“Rouge, non. Ce n’est pas Noël…” Logan groaned, huddling closer to Leo.

Leo hugged Logan close and Leaned in to kiss Finn as he approached. “It isn’t even Halloween yet, why is Christmas here? What does that even mean?”

Finn kisses Leo before he explains his thinking, “It MEANS there’s the first frost on the ground which means snow is soon which means it’s practically Christmas!” He leans down to kiss Logan slow and sweet.

“That’s not how that works, Harz, but good try,” Leo said, passing off Logan into Finn’s arms so he could turn to the stove to start on breakfast. “Take Logan with you, he can help get you warm in the shower and I’ll have this ready by the time you two finish. Sound good?”

“Parfait?” Finn said tentatively, pronunciation a little off but his French was getting better.

“Oui, allez,” Logan grumbled, tugging Finn in the direction of their bedroom and the warm shower that would await them.

[allthebestcowboyshavedaddyissues]

Nothing is slowing down Lost-o-ween! Second fic is out now.

His blood dried on her hands, it flakes off when her palms sweat around the wooden handle of the shovel. The ground is shifty underneath her, it isn’t the time now to be doing this. Then again, Kate wonders if there will ever be a good time to bury her only friend that was left. Five shovel fulls later, she’s using the last of her muscle strength to heave him into the shallow grave. There’s a small thudding in the distance and every vibration sets her heart on fire. She pushes the dirt over him with the shovel, as fast as she can. He deserves better, deserves to be either buried with a marble headstone or preferably, alive right here beside her. The world is no longer what it was, and all Kate can do as the final shove of dirt covers his face, is grip the shovel tight as she runs. All that’s left now is her wits, and God help her if she loses that too.

special thanks to my beloved co-host Arizona, @obsessivedaydreamer and some people who cheered me on in the writing process: @stripesysheaven @epiphytecanopy @frankensteinsmuppet @in-your-walls @praesuo you guys are fantastic!

[bunny-jpeg]

kink-o-ween - day ten

oscar piastri - breeding kink

cw: smut/pwp, breeding kink, established relationship, marriage, gentle sex, praise kink, mating press position, dirty talk, aftercare, tenderness & romance

kink-o-ween: formula one edition - call of duty edition

mrs. piastri was a title that made you blush. even after being married for over a year, you still felt the heat in your cheeks. you were happy to be married to your best friend.

even though you met by chance, when you spilled your ice coffee all over his lap and you begged to pay for the cleaning. almost on your knees because you felt so guilty! but oscar played it very cool and simply suggested that you could pay for dinner.

your career and his racing kept the two of you busy for extended periods of time. but in recent months you had felt the tickle in your gut when you thought about you two expanding your little family.

you knew that you two were not getting any younger, and the idea of having a child with oscar made you feel almost excited. to share the experience with someone who cared about you so deeply. you brought it up over dinner and you watched oscar get pink in the ears.

"a baby?" he asked.

you looked down at your dinner, "yes. i want to start a family with you. but there's no pressure or anything!"

he leaned back in his seat a little and looked away for a moment. he went more red in the face as he admitted, "no. no. i'd love to, i'm just worried i might lose it if given the chance."

"lose it?" you asked.

he looked at you and replied, "my breeding kink... remember?"

your eyes went wide for a moment as you remembered exactly why you always had condoms on hand. oscar piastri, your loving husband who knew everything about you. from your favourite flower to how you liked your steak cooked. had a massive breeding kink.

you assumed that the kink and his desire to have children weren't one in the same. you didn't want to make assumptions, but him putting them together made your face grow hot. you should've guessed.

"i just held off from wanting to get you pregnant until i got your consent. and we agreed that we wanted to start a family. i wasn't going to baby trap you or anything!" he said, "it takes two to tango."

you both sat in an embarrassed silence for a moment before you said, "well, oscar jack piastri." you stood up in your chair. your face still burned as you continued, "let's make a baby then."

your forwardness had your husband standing up from the table as well. now that your desires were verbalized, oscar didn't want to waste any time. there were numerous times when he was alone with his thoughts in hotel rooms across the globe, that he thought about you pregnant.

he thought about you pregnant with his child. you'd be such a good mother to them. oscar wanted the three of you to be a proper family. he yearned for it, but kept his desired hidden for fear of 'forcing' you into a situation you didn't want to be in. a child was a big step and he didn't want it unless you were onboard too. marriage was a partnership.

you were thankful that the conversation only came up after you had finished dinner and were splitting some cheesecake that you bought from the store. it was left on the table in favour of the bedroom. for oscar to get a feel of his beloved wife.

you barely made it to the bed before oscar's hands were on the waist of your pants. he pulled them off of you, admiring your lower half. your strong thighs that still had a bit of softness to them. he loved your thighs, and while he'd love to kiss them while you smothered him with them. his brain was focused on one thing.

breeding his beloved wife.

the more he undressed you, the deeper his brain fell into the kink. and the hotter he got. his cock strained in his jeans, only finding relief when he got them off and onto the floor near the bed. he eyed you as you got your bra off hastily.

he swallowed back pleasure and you admired his features.

"what's on your mind, my handsome husband?" you asked as you rubbed your thighs together. you still wore the cute cotton panties with the printed roses on them. you left them on for your husband to take off.

"i don't want to scare you off." he said as he got closer to you, "i'm afraid i'll say something wrong." he admitted a little sheepishly.

you laid out on the bed under him and gazed up at him, "oh, don't worry about that." you smiled, "i don't think anything could scare me off at this point. i know too much about you, my dear." you watched him eye you up and down with such tenderness.

he grabbed you by the hips and lifted them to meet his cock. he rubbed himself up against you and exhaled deeply. he could feel the pleasure in his gut. you looked beautiful under him. he knew that he wanted to spend a lifetime with you.

"i wanted to get you pregnant for so long. to have you be the mother to my children." he licked his lips, "the sight of you with my child, being the perfect mother to them. making me so proud. coming home to you and our kids." he felt the pleasure mount in his gut and soon he had you in a proper mating press.

your knees were at your face with your pussy exposed to your lover. you felt something stir in your gut as he got you in a position that was perfect for meeting your goal. you blushed at his words and said, "oscar."

"i know. i know. i can't help myself. i want to make you a mother so badly." his voice was a low purr by the time his cock was dragging across your achy slit.

you could feel the heat splash across your face and you hooked your hands under your knees to give yourself more balance as your husband sank his cock into you. you moaned a little bit and oscar savoured the sounds and the feeling. you felt like a dream just like you had every other time you made love.

despite the position, oscar took his time with you. he wanted to feel every inch of you. this wouldn't be a quick affair, if you were going to make a baby together. your husband wanted it to be a night to remember.

and if it took more than one night to conceive, then it would be a good few memorable nights.

he moved against you more, his cock hit against some of the softest parts of you and it made him run hot all over. you in turn felt the same way to be pressed in such a way made you feel flustered as your husband took you.

he said in a low voice, "you're going to make sure a beautiful mother to our children. you were always so good with everyone else's kids." he said his voice tinged with affection, "we'll both be good parents, working hard together. for our family." he leaned forward and pressed into you further to kiss you on the lips.

"i love you."

"i love you too. more than you'll ever know. you complete me." he said, his voice was doused in love. you knew that he meant it. he wouldn't marry you and lie about loving you.

you could recall his tenderness throughout your relationship. and it made your heart flutter. oscar adored you, even going as far as to have a keychain on his bag with your favourite animal on it. so he'd have a little piece of you when you were apart.

he continued to move against you, his lips found yours once more and you both felt hot. in the quietness of your home during the season break. you could feel how much he loved you even without words. oscar piastri adored you, loved you so deeply that it made up his heart beat.

"you're the funniest, most amazing woman i've ever met." he chuckled softly, "i remember when you took us out on our first date and we split that cheesecake." he moved against you further, "in all fairness it was really good, but i wanted you to have more of it. your smile when you ate it, i couldn't get enough of it."

you squirmed a little more under his heavy thrusts and you moaned a little louder. thankfully you had some privacy in your large home, which allowed the two of you to really go at it.

oscar thrusted against you and you felt hot all over. the throb of pleasure in the back of your head as he moved against you. you said softly, "i love you."

"and i love you." he said. his heart raced. the two of you fit perfectly together, the pleasure pooled between you two. you felt hot all over.

you felt close to your climax. you held onto your legs tighter as you tensed up. you moaned a little louder as you felt yourself reach your peak of climax soon after. as you came, you reached for your husband and the two of you kissed passionately.

oscar was close behind you, his pace staggered and eventually he gave it his all to finish inside of you. he felt the pleasure shiver down his spine as he panted heavily. his body pressed into yours, keeping you pinned under him as he finished inside of you.

he got close enough to pepper your face with kisses. you melted into his touch a little more as you felt the after glow of pleasure. eventually oscar pulled out and you placed your lower half down onto the bed once more.

he laid out next to you and pulled you into his grasp. he loved the feeling of you against him as he peppered your face with kisses. you leaned into him like a flower did the sun and you felt comfortable next to him.

"did i hurt you?" he asked softly.

"no, no." you said as you captured his lips once more before he pulled the covers over the both of you. you both snuggled against one another naked.

he asked, "do you need anything? anything at all?" he always made sure you received after care, even if the sex was tender.

you pecked his lips once more and assured him you needed nothing. until the light bulb went off in your head. you smiled at him and suggested, "maybe we can finish that cheesecake?"

"in bed?"

you giggled, "better than sitting at the table naked."

he chuckled and wrapped an arm around you, "well, it'll be the first and last time. we have to set a good example for our daughter."

"oh, already certain of the gender?" you laughed a little.

"of course. and she'll be as funny and smart as you." oscar pulled you as close as you could get with you leg over his hip. he looked at you with such affection. he couldn't wait to have a family with you <3

[strawberrystepmom]

pairing: ghost!gojo satoru x f!reader

word count: 2.8k

about: the bump you’ve been hearing in the night isn’t just your imagination, it’s a friendly ghost. a handsome ghost. a ghost who you've befriended that isn't so sure he wants to share you.

contents: nsfw - mdni. you are enjoying oral sex (f!receiving) from a ghost, voyeurism (he's a creep but reader is into it ♡), vaginal fingering, alcohol consumption, mentions of masturbation, possessiveness leaning on yandere behavior, reader is referred to with feminine terms (pretty girl) and is stated to be wearing a dress.

notes: welcome to thot-o-ween 2023! we are kicking things off with my ghostly boyfriend and im gonna be honest with u guys here, i didn't do extensive research about the ins and outs of ghost sex but he can materialize and harden the parts of him he wants to and let's leave it at that, okay? thank you to @rossithepixie for beta reading this bad boy and i hope you enjoy! happy halloween!

Another unlucky night, you lament upon arriving back to your apartment. Your keys jingle in the door as you turn the lock with your uncomfortable heels dangling from your hand, pushing the door inward and slumping with each step forward. 

Third dates usually end better than this but it seems your last several third dates have ended with nothing satisfying, polite kisses and wishes for a good evening. It’s hard not to internalize the rejection given this is the fourth person it has happened with and you drop your heels with a thud on the hardwood below, padding across the floor and working off your jewelry, contorting your wrist to unclasp your bracelet.

“Back already?”

A sigh and a shake of your head mark that you already know who the voice belongs to despite being unable to witness its owner. Tossing your bracelet down on the coffee table, you slump against the couch with an unimpressed grunt and jump slightly when you look up to see a pair of blue eyes with white hair falling in them staring back at you.

You don’t know why you expected anything less than Satoru being ready to gloat that you’ve returned home empty handed but you hoped for at least a little bit of time to lick your wounds.

“Well hello to you, too,” you snip and he chuckles. The dim overhead light shines through him reminding you that he isn’t quite human, something it’s all too easy to forget given his charming grin and affable nature, and he hops over the top of the couch in a flash and plops down next to you. 

You still aren’t sure how you ended up with a ghost as a freeloading roommate nor how you’re able to not only see but feel and communicate with him but at least he makes good company after your failed attempts at finding love. He’s always there with a silly joke or a goofy smile to make things hurt a little less.

It’s almost embarrassing how easy it has been to find comfort in this specter, a figment of a man left on Earth for reasons you’ll never know, but hey - a friend’s a friend when you’re lonely.

“Not sure what happened this time,” you explain while standing up. He watches your every move, eyes dancing across your chest and trailing down your waist and hips as your dress settles back across them. Taking one look at you, hunger rises within him but he swallows it as you walk to the kitchen and he hears the telltale noise of a corkscrew at work.

He can be as patient as he needs for as long as he needs given his games have worked up until this point. You pour a glass of wine, another sitting next to your full glass, and you furrow your brow.

“Satoru?”

He looks over the couch, eyes narrowing as he sees your relaxed posture and the way you lean against the counter next to you. It has to be the dress, he thinks, that hugs every delicious curve and has made the already thin tether he keeps on his self control further loosen.

“Yeah?”

You smile when he responds, pulling your glass away from your lips. His eyes fall on the lipstick stain left behind and he has to curl his fist in his lap and keep his face neutral to keep his frustration from showing.

“Ghosts don’t eat or drink, right?”

He shrugs, arm dangling over the side of the couch as he watches you slip the glass back into the cupboard above your head. You’re assuming that he isn’t interested in the wine despite how his eyes follow your every move. It isn’t unusual that you feel him watching you, having to draw boundaries on where he is and is not allowed to be several times given how you’ve seen his face after wiping the mirror off post shower, but this feels different. Weighted. Maybe he’s worried about your ego after your failed conquests.

“Not usually, no, but we can make exceptions.”

Raising your eyebrows, you hum at the way he accentuates the last word. Another sip and warmth fills you, wine relaxing your frazzled nerves. You approach the couch again and slip next to him, pulling your knees to your chest with an amused smile.

“What’s so funny?” He asks, looking up at you through his lashes. Sliding your wine onto the table beside you, you consider for a moment what to say next not knowing where your words could possibly lead. He’s harmless, friendly, and a friend.

A little flirtation just to make sure you’re still capable of it couldn’t possibly hurt anything, could it?

“What kind of exceptions do you make when it comes to eating, Satoru?”

You wonder what he was like when he was alive - was he just like this? All jokes and fun and bluster or was he serious, tied down by responsibilities and pain? Was he this handsome even when the light didn’t shine through him, illuminating him in a way that makes you wonder if he isn’t an angel rather than a thing that goes bump in the night?

“Hmm…well. Children, small animals…” he pretends to be thinking, fingers stroking his chin and you laugh raucously at his display. He shakes his head and puts his other hand on your calf, cold fingers sending shivers crawling through the limb. You make a show of shivering but don’t shove him off, instead moving closer.

“Anything else?”

He hums at your question, hand sliding from your calf to your exposed knee. Your dress rides further and further up your thighs and he can almost see the lacy little panties he watched you slip over your legs before leaving. He spent all evening thinking of the way the trimmed hair covering your mound poked through the holes in the lace, pacing the apartment hoping, hoping, hoping that this time would be the time where you took the rejection personally enough to seek him out for comfort.

It seems his plan is working flawlessly and he’s smug, raising his chin and looking down his nose at you just enough that it makes you shutter. You aren’t sure if it’s the wine or maybe that you’re reading too much into the situation, but you watch raptly as his mouth moves.

“Sometimes I eat really pretty girls if the appetite strikes.”

Raising your brows, you lean forward and look up at him. He knows all too well what that look means, unfortunately having to witness you flash it at the few people you’ve managed to bring home over the last ten months of living here, but he can forget about them now that it is pointed at him.

“Oh is that so?”

He nods, hand crawling further up your leg. You wish you could describe the sensation, a cold static, the trace of his touch across your skin, but words fail you as his eyes blaze. The tension is thick and it’s almost puzzling how you ended up here, scooting closer and closer with each second that passes. His hand dances at the hem of your dress, fingers slipping beneath and grazing the soft skin beneath it and he moans.

“How long have you wanted to do that for, I wonder?”

You giggle, ass scooting across the couch to drape your legs over his thighs and hips. The two of you sit across from one another, legs barely spread, and you take a step to spread yours further.

“I think the better question is how long have you wanted me to do it for?”

Raising your brows as his touch creeps further upward, you wonder if you haven’t met your match in the form of the eerily tall specter that lingers over the back of your couch. He makes himself scarce unless he wants to be seen, pounding footsteps and shifting on the shelves hanging on your wall the only trace of him when others are around. 

You stop yourself on that thought and he sees awareness dance across your face, recalling the moments where your last several dates were in the apartment and you had to insist the rustling was the pet cat you do not have fiddling with things in your room or down the hallway.

“Have you been…” the accusation slips past your lips and you can’t stop it, head tipping as he reaches out and cups your face with his free hand, one hand still sliding across the bottom of your panties. His cool fingers are a rush across your heated skin, hotter now than it was a few moments prior, and he nods.

“Yeah, I have been.” He expects you to react more strongly than you are but your mouth remains agape and wordless. “You keep bringing these idiots home and it’s my job to make sure they know you already have everything you need right here.”

He shifts position onto his stomach, his long legs dangling over the arm of the couch as his lips, cool and soft, follow the same pattern his fingers were previously taking. He laces your calf with kisses, licking the curve of your knee and nibbling as he reaches the soft of your inner thigh and you feel your hips buck instinctively. 

You should kick him off of you, disgusted by his antics, but you feel your slick pussy lips rub against one another as you shift where you sit. Those electric eyes are locked on you and he dips his fingers beneath the lace that spurred his frenzy, groaning as he comes into contact with your searing hot warmth and the wetness seeping from your cunt.

“Seems like you aren’t disappointed to hear that,” he taunts, nibbling your soft skin again while working one long digit across your slit. You gasp when the back of his finger brushes against your swollen clit and he chuckles. “You wanna hear what else I’ve been doing since we’re bein’ honest?”

Satoru’s finger traces the same pattern through your slit, finger gliding easily along the sensitive skin and you nod, lip between your teeth. You want to witness exactly what he’s doing to you because the feeling is indescribable - more intense than anything you’ve ever felt. 

“I’ve been watching you,” he withdraws his finger from your panties and you whimper, brow furrowing. Eyes fixed on him, you watch as he pulls the finger into his mouth and hums at the taste. The wet digit is removed from his mouth with a pop and he slides it back into your panties, dipping into your cunt only to make your back arch. 

“Watching you do that,” he nods at your last movement. “With that noisy vibrator. With the showerhead.” He continues, mouth moving closer to your panty covered pussy with each word. “With people who don’t deserve it.”

Another chill runs through you at the insinuation that he has been watching you…everywhere. In the shower, in your bedroom, in the living room with a blanket pulled over your lap for some sense of decorum. Your walls clench around his finger and he finally lowers his face to your pussy, licking a broad stripe over the front of your underwear. 

Tipping your head back, you moan his name and it’s the sweetest sound he has ever heard in life or after it. He licks another strip, tip of his tongue tracing your slit through the lace, and you reach behind you to grasp onto a throw pillow.

“I’ve been waiting for when you’d pick up on it but it seems my pretty girl wanted to believe I’m nothing but a friendly houseguest,” he taunts from between your legs but you are at his mercy enough that you don’t mind the challenge. 

You like the way his eyes shine as they look down at your core, as if he’s found a prize that he has searched many lifetimes for. He has and he holds himself back from making further moves, taking the time to keep you wound up.

“You’re mine now no matter who you bring in here, you know that right?”

You nod, and he tuts from below. You aren’t getting off that easily.

“Say it,” he prompts. “Say you’re mine.”

Untucking your lip from between your teeth, you reach out and try to grab his face but find it’s futile, phasing through him as it drops back down to the couch below. You try again, raising your hand to be met with the same results, and he waits.

“Say it and I’ll let you touch me too.”

You aren’t certain of how that works but he would know more about the delicate relations between a ghost and a human so you acquiesce, nodding while you look at him.

“I’m yours,” you whisper and he wastes no time going back to work, dipping his head back down to your covered cunt and pulling your panties away. He inhales, eyes fluttering shut at the scent of your arousal, and you reach to touch him to find you can merely graze him, fingers dancing along his sharp jawline. It’s enough for now, distracted by how his tongue now dances between your folds.

“Fuck that’s so good,” you whimper and he wraps his lips around your aching clit, your back arching to put all of you in his face. He loves it, surrounded by your thighs and your scent and your beauty, and he hums his pleasure around the bud.

Releasing your clit, he begins to once again lap at you like a man starved, tongue dragging from your bud to your entrance and down lower, the sensation still one you are struggling to name. You’ve been on the receiving end of good oral sex more than once but this physically feels like something you’ve never experienced, cold and hot and spiritual. It’s difficult to describe so you don’t bother, keeping moans spilling from your mouth instead.

Continuing to lave his tongue across the mess he’s making of your pussy, he swallows thickly and looks up at your pleasured face. The sight makes him smile, more than happy he has finally managed to get his way, and he adds another finger to the one he has kept massaging your insides. His tongue retracts but you don’t mind, long fingers filling you more than you anticipated and drawing gasps from you.

“Just remember,” his blue eyes fall to where his fingers curl against your pelvis, squelching with your wetness and his saliva. “I can follow you wherever you go.”

You gasp when his fingers curl against the spongy spot inside of you that makes your head swim, walls once again gripping him so tightly he can hardly move so he settles in place.

“You’ll never get away from me now.”

Nodding, you smirk and it turns into a gasp when he runs his thumb over your clit, hips canting to match the rhythm his fingers were working at before they stopped.

“You assume I want to,” you shoot back breathlessly through swollen lips. You’ve been gnawing that lower lip a little too hard and it’s plump, slick with spit and he admires the shine while you speak. “Maybe you'll never get away from me.”

Raising his brows, Satoru wonders if this wasn’t your endgame all along. Recalling all the times you spread your legs and stroked your pussy on the couch, knowing he could see it; memorizing all of the people who have darkened your doorstep, only to get you all warmed up and then be sent away - you making the choice instead to moan into the cool dark of your room while making yourself cum again and again.

“Looks like we’re on the same page then,” he confirms and you smile. His mouth goes back to work, tongue slurping and drinking every bit of you that he can, and you feel yourself edging closer and closer to cumming for him, for real, this time. 

His fingers work inside of you and he closes his mouth over your sensitive clit, your mouth opening in a wordless shout with your release. You weren’t expecting it to come just yet but you won’t complain, head drooping backwards and eyes shut tightly. The on top of the world feeling is coaxed out of you for as long as it can be, his mouth mercifully releasing you when you start breathing heavily. 

His face rests against your thigh, glistening chin backlit and shining, and you reach out to touch him again and gasp when your touch lands, fingers wrapping around his jaw. Again, you won’t question it knowing that the best orgasm of your life just came at the hands of this man…or spirit…Whatever he is, you aren’t terribly concerned about it.

“I feel like I need to take you out to dinner now,” you tease breathlessly and he laughs, cheek still pressed to your thigh. Placing a kiss, he winks in your direction and you feel that familiar heat rise in you once again.

“We have all the time in the world for that, now don’t we?”

[violetfairydust]

Countdown to Halloween

#2

I hope you have a better mischief night than Scott here

-

Allison had unlocked the classroom door and took the key from the knob. She walked into the room a few feet and stopped short. The tables were now on the outer edges of the room with the ugly gray carpet that was standard in every classroom in the middle. The bookshelves were under the windows and the calendar was next to her own desk across the room from the birthday chart. Allison dropped her keys.

“What the fuck?” she mumbled. Louder she said, “What the hell happened to my classroom?”

One of the nearby teachers hurried in. She blinked at the arrangement.

“That’s quite the setup you got there.”

“I didn’t do this.”

The other teacher looked at her with narrowed eyes. “So someone broke into your classroom and rearranged everything?”

Allison was fuming. “I spent eight hours setting up this classroom the way I wanted it to be. And now... It’s a donut.”

“What?”

It dawned on Allison what happened. She dropped her voice and leaned into her coworker. “I think I know who did it. If Principal Amy asks, I’m defending myself from an intruder.” She dashed out of the room and ran down the hall.

The teacher hurried after her. After several turns around corners and in a more private section of the school—between the music portable and the gym—Allison was sitting on Scott. He was on his stomach with Allison’s chest pressed against his back and her forearm against his neck. She also twisted his other arm behind him and it was pinned between his lower back and her stomach.

“At least Lydia didn’t attack me.” He struggled under her weight. “Also how did you run and catch up to me with a broken leg?”

She kicked him with the boot in the hip and he cried out in pain. “Do you work alone?”

Scott didn’t answer.

“How many partners do you have?”

“Just Malia.”

Allison kicked him again.

“Stiles went to mess with Theo. He’s not here. Please... I’ll tell you what you want to know, just don’t feed me the chili.”

[henrysglock]

like i said, i love making his life hell

[peyton-warren]

Am gonna attempt this.

Since Finn had his birthday... I say it's safe to start prepping for Halloween!

Behold: the 2023 Fic-O-Ween prompt list! (created this year by the lovely @arrowofcarnations!)

You have more than 2 months to write, draw, or otherwise create for the fest as we start posting and reblogging on October 19. There will be a 30 day reminder post on September 19 and a week before the start date, so fret not!

The daily prompt cards will be uploaded soon-- you're encouraged to use them as the "cover photo" at the top of each day's post.

More instructions to come!

Happy Spooky Season!!