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queen-of-fanfics · 1 year

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Stay Away From Him

Pairing: Miguel O'Hara x Reader

Prompt: Miguel is jealous of your closeness with Hobie and tells you to stay from him.

A/N: Well I have had too much free time at work and all I've been doing is writing. Kinda love it. Also, how did y'all like Across the Spider-Verse? I saw it four times in theaters, it's like a drug in my veins. Anywho I figured I wanted to do a fanfic in a world that I haven't done yet so here it is!

Part 2

“Hey, Y/N.”

“Hey, Peter!”

“Hey, Y/N”

“Oh hey, Peters.”

“Oi! Y/N!” Recognizing the accent, you look up in the air and see Hobie swinging his way over to you.

“Hobie! What are you doing here?!”

This was your second week working inside the Spider-Verse headquarters. You were the only person there who wasn’t some version of Spiderman. One day, Miguel O’Hara was in your universe for a job, bing bang boom, next thing you knew, he offered you a job. Your job here at headquarters was to act as his assistant of sorts. Help him with errands, help him on missions, and fetch him lunch because the poor man will work until he starves. That was exactly what you are doing now. You had finished locating the latest anomaly and went down to the cafeteria to grab him some empanadas.

Working at headquarters was like a living dream. So far, everyone seems to like you and you’ve already made friends. Hobie and Gwen welcomed you with open arms and the three of you became inseparable. During your time working with Miguel, you may have developed a little crush on your boss. You never told anyone about how your heart starts beating faster or how your breath gets shaky when he stands a little too close. Though, you never had to say because everyone could see it. And everyone warned you away from the infamous Miguel O’Hara.

“He’s not for you. He’s obsessed with his work and barely knows what having fun or being nice is. I doubt he even knows there’s a life outside of this place.” Gwen said one day during lunch.

“Who’s not for me? What are you talking about? I’m just here to work.” You shovel food into your mouth in an attempt to hide your face.

“Mmhmm, sure. You can deny it all you want but if you keep staring at him all weird like that, even he’s going to start to notice. Just trust me, you should just try to stay away from him. Which I guess isn’t possible since he’s your boss but you know what I mean.”

“Though it does raise the question as to why he recruited her, don’t it?” Hobie chimes in.

Hobie jumps on your back and it pulls you back to the present.

“I’m here for it! Whatchu think? I would willingly come here? Nah.”

“Actually! We just finished a mission so we just came to check in with Miguel.” Gwen swings down and lands right next to you. The three of you continue walking side by side down the hall to Miguel. Hobie throws his arm casually around your shoulder, keeping you close to his side.

You walk into the main room and see that Miguel is standing on his platform up in the air. There are a few people milling around the room, minding their business. People tend to hover around Miguel in case any missions come up or if he needs help.

“Miguel! I got you some empanadas!” You yell up at him.

He turns and barely glances over his shoulder at the three of you. He grunts and rolls his eyes in annoyance but his platform starts its slow descent. Gwen runs over to Jessica and they start talking. Hobie walks with you over to your little desk that sits on the ground floor …. like a regular person.

“So we still on for tonight?” Hobie asks.

“What’s tonight?” You turn and ask Hobie. You lean your butt against the desk to look up at him. He gets in close, places his hands against the desk on both sides of you, and cages you in with his arms.

“Whatchu mean what’s tonight? Did you forget already? Thought you and Gwen were staying in my place tonight!” Hobie teases you.

“Oh, Hobie! I forgot about that, I can’t come over.” Gwen yells over before she turns back to her conversation.

“Guess it’s just us then.” He mumbles and gives you a wink.

Before you could respond, Miguel’s voice booms through the large chamber.

“Y/N isn’t going anywhere tonight.” Looking over, you see that Miguel has lowered his platform as far as it could go and he is staring directly at the two of you with a deadly look on his face. All the conversations in the room died down and you could tell that everyone's eyes were looking between you and Miguel. Everyone treads carefully around Miguel … everyone except Hobie.

“What? You keeping her hostage now?”

All of a sudden feeling nervous, unsure as to what put Miguel in a foul mood and not wanting to make it worse, you try to straighten up and stand in attention but Hobie isn’t moving.

“We’ve got work to do here, Hobie. Unlike you, some of us have things we have to do.” Miguel crosses his arms and stares down at Hobie.

“What work? We caught all the known anomalies already. Plus I was going to work on my bike, give it some more bells and whistles.” Jessica pipes up.

“There’s more work to do than just waiting around for things to happen.”

“Then what do I gotta do, hmm?” Jessica sasses back to him.

“Nothing. I, uh, just want to do some surveillance. Never know ”

“And what Y/N got to do with it, then?” Hobie asks, giving Miguel a weird look.

“Y/N is my assistant. Y/N must assist me. And get off of her Hobie.”

“Right, but it don’t sound like there is any real work to do. I don’t see why Y/N gotta sit here and suffer being around you. And, uh, I’m actually quite comfortable where I am.”

“No no, I don’t mind. It’s my job. I can stay” You rush to say as you start pushing at Hobie’s shoulders.

Hobie turned slowly to look at you without budging and you just stared up at him. “Move.” you mouth to Hobie with beseechment in your eyes. But all he does is smile at you and barely visibly shakes his head ‘No’. Eyes wide, you think to yourself, I’m not going to have a job after this. The room is still silent and no one speaks as the tension rises.

“Everyone out!” Miguel booms, “Looks like no one wants to work anyways. It’s not as if we’re trying to save the entire universe or anything.”

“Oh! Miguel, we wanted to check in about the-” Gwen is cut off when Miguel turns back around to his monitors and yells, “OUT!”

Everyone exchanges nervous looks around the room while they pick up their things. The whole time though, Hobie is looking down at you with a knowing smirk on his face. “What are you smiling about?” You hiss at him as you push him up so you can grab your bag and head out.

“Oh just something I think you should find out for yourself. And you might soon.”

“Ugh, I’m going to kill you.”

Hobie throws his arm around you and leads you out, “Yeah sure, but hey, looks like you can come over after all, aye?”

“Everyone except for Y/N!” You whirl around at the sudden sound but Miguel is still just looking at his monitors.

“Damn, looks like you’re going to find out real soon. See ya sweet cheeks.” Hobie gives you a wink and walks out with everyone else.

You stood in the doorway waiting for Miguel’s instructions but after a few beats, you realized that he wasn’t going to turn around and talk to you. Slowly walking back to your desk, you couldn’t help but notice how the tension in the room did not leave along with everyone else. It still lay thick and heavy in the air. Taking off your bag and placing it on your desk, you turn around to face Miguel. You open your mouth to say something to break the silence but he cuts you off.

“Come up here and help me look at this.”

Your eyes grew wide and you hurried over to the dais. Your heartbeat started quickening with excitement, you have never been invited onto the platform before. Miguel looks down his nose at you with a disgusted look on his face as you struggle to even get your leg on the platform.

“Sorry, don’t got webs like y’all. Give me a second.”

You finally heave yourself up and flop over on your back, gulping down deep breaths of air. “You know, I’m starting to think I’m out of shape.” Figuring that it was time to actually get to work, you jump up to your feet and face the monitors.

“Alrighty, so what am I looking at?” All of the monitors were showing different videos of different universes. Some other monitors had new articles and alerts of potential disturbances.

“Just, uh, keep an eye on some of the security cameras we have posted around. See if you catch any suspicious activity.”

“Were you expecting something to happen tonight? Did you get a tip?”

“No, just doing our due diligence to keep everything in line.”

Your brows furrowed in confusion and you gave Miguel a side-eye look. This is what he’s keeping me here to do? To watch some cameras?

The whole time he was talking to you and giving you instructions, he did not glance at you, just busily pressing buttons and typing something.

About 10 minutes went by in absolute silence with Miguel working and you … “working”. Getting bored and tired on your feet, you start leaning around the table and let out a sigh. Miguel looks at you over his shoulder but turns back to his work. Another 10 minutes go by before he asks, “So you and Hobie are friends?”

Surprised by the question and surprised he even spoke, you responded, “Yeah, I would like to think so. He’s nice, I like hanging out with him.”

“You two have gotten close?”

Getting confused by his line of questioning, you give him a weird look that he doesn’t see. “I mean, I don’t know about close. We hang out with Gwen too. It’s usually the three of us.”

A few silent beats fall between the two of you before he responds, “I didn’t know you were visiting different universes.”

“Hmm, I’m not really. Besides my own home universe, I’ve only just been to Hobie’s. I haven’t seen Gwen’s though not even she goes back there.”

Again he doesn’t reply immediately and the comfortable silence continues.

“I would advise you to stay away from Hobie. He could be a bad influence on you or something.” He mumbles so quietly that you almost didn’t catch it.

“I’m sorry?” You asked, turning your body full to look at him now.

“I said ‘you should stay’-”

“No, I know what you said. But I don’t understand why. What’s going on with you? Are you stressed about something? Do you not like Hobie? Because Hobie has been nothing but nice to me and he’s a friend. He keeps me safe even when I visit his universe.”

“And exactly how many times have you visited his universe, hmm? You two seem pretty comfortable flying across universes together.” It was his turn to turn and face you. Standing at his full height, the tops of your head barely came up to his collar bones.

“I-I- … I don’t know. A few times I guess? 4? Maybe 5 times? But-”

“5 times?! You met him not even two weeks ago and you’ve already been hanging around him that much?” You were trying to explain to ease whatever caused his temper to rise. However, with every response you give, it only seems to anger him more. With every response, he is taking a step closer to you and walking you backward.

“I guess? But he’s my friend! And I’ve always been safe if that’s the issue. He keeps me safe. I know I’m not a Spider-Man like you but-” Miguel ignores your argument and cuts you off again.

“Right right and he keeps you safe which I am sure he is more than happy to do seeing as how he’s always getting up in your space. And what exactly do you do in his universe? You run around town like some hooligans and go back to your home universe when it’s late enough to be considered morning?”

“Ah- No, we hang out at his place and have dinner and stuff, I don’t know! And when it gets late I just stay over at his place!”

“Stay over?! What? Like overnight? He’s got guest rooms now? He’s hosting house parties?” There’s sarcasm dripping in his words but your brain was running too fast to notice.

“N-No he doesn’t. He’s not. He just lets me use his bed when I’m too tired to go home and I’d just wake up the next morning to come here.”

All of a sudden, he takes one last step forward and you take one step back but your backside hits the table. He drops his hands on either side of you, exactly like how Hobie had you pinned against your desk earlier but this is different. This feels different. The tension is palpable. With Hobie, it was friendly and playful. With Miguel … it feels like you’re getting hunted and just got caught.

“He what?” Miguel’s voice isn’t loud and angry anymore. No. It’s low and deadly. His question comes out always like a whisper as he leads in so close that your noses are practically touching.

“I don’t understand what’s happening. Hobie is just my friend. Why does this feel like it’s a problem?” You whisper. Miguel doesn’t reply. He simply stares at you with such intensity in his eyes, you’re surprised you didn’t evaporate. Suddenly, he’s looking at your lips. Acting almost instinctively, your tongue shoots out to wet your lips and his eyes immediately shoot back up to yours. There’s the intensity in his eyes again, only this time, it’s different. Definitely not anger.

Suddenly, an alarm from Miguel’s monitor goes off and the sound is thunderous in the silent chamber.

After a few beats, Miguel drops his forehead on yours, closes his eyes, and takes a deep breath. The whole time, you never take your eyes off of him. Your heart is beating so fast and the blood is rushing in your ears. Very abruptly, he pushes off of the table and whirls around to the monitor. He turns off the alarm and starts typing away, completely ignoring you. Slowly pushing up from the table, you turn back to your own monitor and stare blankly at the empty alleyways and random buildings.

Where there was comfortable silence before, now, the silence is deafening.

“You should go home Y/N. I can finish this up on my own.”

Not sure of how to act or how to respond, you slowly climb down from the platform without saying a word and fetch your things.

“And I mean home, Y/N. To your home universe. To your own house. To your own bed.”

Looking back up the dais, Miguel is still facing his monitors, not even looking at you when he talks. Hitching your bag higher up on your shoulder, you respond, “Of course. Goodnight, Miguel. And … for what it’s worth … he always slept on the couch.”

And with that, you take off running down the hall and teleport back home.

#fanfiction #fanfic #spiderman imagine #spiderman fanfiction #spiderman fanfic #spiderman #spider man #across the spiderverse #miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara imagine #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara x y/n #miguel o'hara one shot #hobie #hobie brown #spider punk #spiderman x reader #spider man 2099

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sunshinesteviee · 2 years

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call it what you want - s.h.

summary: you find yourself on the edge of friendship and something more with steve at a halloween party. for @sparklingsin's spookinktober writing challenge with the prompt "quick, switch costumes with me!" wc: 8.1k wtf warnings: friends to lovers. alcohol consumption. smut!!! 18+!!! f!reader. a/n: this is the longest thing i've ever written and it killed me lol i hope y'all like it. feedback is much appreciated! love u sm. also huge shoutout to @sparklingsin and @familyvideostevie for reading this and helping me out and listening to me complain about this gd fic for weeks i love u so much thanks for putting up w me

Masterlist

Parties weren’t Steve’s thing. Not anymore, anyway. And Halloween parties in particular were definitely crossed off the list, especially after everything that had happened with Nancy a few years ago. He was over Nancy, they were even friends now, but something about the idea of going to another Halloween party stirred up a sick feeling in Steve’s stomach that he wanted to run from. Somehow, though, Robin had managed to convince him that it would be fun.

Really, it hadn’t taken much convincing on Robin’s part — all she had to do was mention you, and Steve was in, though he’d never admit that to her. It was stupid, she thought, the way the two of you were constantly pining for each other, but refusing to do anything about it. She’d heard enough lovesick complaints from her best friends, and decided she’d take it into her own hands. And Halloween seemed like the perfect opportunity. She wasn’t quite sure how yet, but she was sure the night would end at the very least with confessions. She’d make sure of it.

And so, Steve was two drinks deep in a crowded house, filled with more regret than beer. Robin had somehow disappeared after one drink, Eddie was nowhere in sight, and he still had yet to see you. Maybe you’d decided not to come. If so, the whole night would be a waste. He hadn’t missed parties one bit. The stuffy, crowded rooms filled with sweaty bodies pressed against each other as music pounded in his ears, pulsing lights making his head throb.

It didn’t used to be so bad. He used to be the keg king, down shot after shot, maybe get lucky, and still wake up the next day more or less fine. Now, two drinks usually did him in, and he didn’t always like the feeling of being drunk. Of being out of control. To be fair, he’d taken quite a few beatings that had definitely fucked with his head since he’d last been to a proper party. But parties just weren’t enjoyable anymore. Especially when all of his friends had disappeared, and he didn’t know anyone surrounding him.

Tipping the last of his drink into his mouth, Steve crushed the red plastic cup in his hand and tossed it into the trash can nearby that was already almost overflowing. A familiar laugh sounded behind him, a sweet sound above the loud bass, “Whoa there, champ. How many drinks have you had?!”

Steve already had a smile on his face as he turned around, and his jaw nearly hit the floor at the sight of you. You hadn’t ditched. And better yet, you looked fucking gorgeous. He let out an adoring laugh, eyebrows furrowing together, forehead wrinkling as he asked, “Champ?”

“Your costume, silly,” you nodded towards his outfit as you reached out, placing your warm palm against his bicep. Without thinking, Steve leaned into your touch, stepping in closer to you, his hand grazing your hip slightly.

Since it had been a last-minute decision, and since he wasn’t fond of Halloween anyways, Steve had decided to pull his baseball uniform from high school out of his closet. It fit a little tighter than it used to, but would work well enough for one night. The ugly green and orange baseball jersey was tucked into a pair of baseball pants, and he’d even tucked his wild hair underneath a Hawkins high baseball hat. Steve’s cheeks flushed with embarrassment, the soft pink obvious on his pale skin, even in the dim lighting of the house. “Oh, right. Yeah, I think I kinda… knocked it out of the park with this one.”

The snort that left your mouth had Steve smiling again as you clapped a hand over your mouth, “Oh my god. That was fucking awful, Steve. It does look good, though. Can’t believe you’d ruin all of your pretty hair under that hat.”

Steve flushed again, a common occurrence that he couldn’t help when he was around you, and shrugged, “What can I say? I’m dedicated to the costume. I like your costume, too, by the way; you look nice.”

Your eyes lit up at his compliment as you bounced on the balls of your feet nervously, “Yeah? Thanks, Stevie.” You were wearing a short shirt that had “Camp Crystal Lake” printed across the chest, with a picture of a lake underneath it, and a pair of red shorts that were also nearly too short; you were a counselor from one of your favorite horror movies, Friday the 13th. Quite frankly, the costume fit you perfectly, accentuating all of your best features, and you weren’t oblivious to the way his eyes had caught on you when he’d first turned around.

“Yeah! That’s a great movie.”

“I thought you didn’t like horror movies?” you questioned, a teasing tone lacing your words. You and Eddie had had to convince him more than once to watch a horror movie on one of your movie nights, and he usually hid underneath a blanket for more than half the movie.

“Well, no,” Steve huffed, crossing his arms over his chest as he narrowed his eyes at you, “But I’ve seen that one, and it wasn’t bad. Do you want a drink?"

When you quickly agreed, Steve’s hand left your back as he pulled back from you. Before you could mourn the warmth of his hand on your skin, though, his hand was reaching toward yours. “C’mon then, babe.”

Without a second thought, your hand slipped into his, fingers slotting together easily. Steve started pulling you through the crowd, weaving between bodies skillfully. The grip he had on your hand, though gentle, was firm, as if you’d be lost forever if he let go. As if the crowds of people would swallow you whole and carry you away from him. He glanced back a few times to make sure you were alright, flashing you a small smile every single time his eyes caught yours.

The alcohol was finally starting to hit Steve, making him feel a bit lighter, though maybe it was just from being near you. Your hand in his was enough to make him feel tipsy. To have him questioning if it was real. He definitely didn’t need to have another drink, not if you were going to be holding his hand like your life depended on it. It wasn’t an uncommon occurrence, to be close to you, but the alcohol had his senses dialed up. Steve knew that if he wasn’t careful, he might let his real feelings for you slip, and he didn’t want to risk the friendship you had.

Steve shook his head in an attempt to clear it, though the alcohol was making it a bit difficult, and refocused back on you. He gave you a lopsided smile, working to untangle his fingers from yours, “Whaddya want, cutie? Punch? I had two cups and it’s kinda strong because I’m definitely starting to feel it, and—”

“I’ll have punch!” You’d listen to him ramble for hours, but the kitchen was even more packed than the room you’d just been in. You didn’t see Steve drunk, or even tipsy, often, and you adored the way his face flushed red and he started rambling. He’d clearly had just enough to have him feeling good, not enough to tip him over the edge, and it was endearing the way he seemed to let go a little bit.

Not wanting to be away from your side for too long, Steve hurried across the kitchen to get a cup and fill it with punch for you. He pushed by a few people on his way back, trying to be gentler than the asshole who had pushed you, and frowned as some of the drink spilled over the edge of the cup and ran down his fingers. The pout was still on his lips as he approached you, holding the cup out, “Sorry, didn’t mean to spill it. Here you go, babe.”

Taking the cup from him carefully, you smiled gratefully, glad that you hadn’t been the one to cross the kitchen, “Thanks, Stevie. You didn’t get one for yourself?”

“Nah, if I have more I’ll be suffering tomorrow,” he replied. As he talked, Steve lifted his hand that was now covered in the sticky punch, and slipped one of his fingers into his mouth to clean it off. Heat rushed to your cheeks and you stared in disbelief as Steve did it again with another finger. This time, he caught the look on your face and his own eyes went wide as he stared at you in confusion, completely oblivious, “What?”

You nearly choked on your drink, and you quickly shook your head, turning away from Steve so he wouldn’t see the reaction you were having. There was no doubt you were attracted to Steve — how could you not be? He was kind and funny and brave, and treated you better than anyone else ever had. The problem was, he wasn’t your boyfriend, and you were fairly certain he had no intention of that. He was a nice guy to everyone. Just because he called you babe or cutie from time to time, and held your hand or shared blankets with you… that didn’t mean he was interested, and you’d done your best to shove those feelings down. You didn’t want to lose Steve’s friendship above all else, so if you had to pretend your feelings for him were strictly platonic, you could do that. But watching him lick his fingers clean sparked something in your stomach, and made your face feel hot. To be fair, you had already downed a shot with Nancy while the two of you were getting ready, so maybe you could just blame the way your thighs clenched on the alcohol.

Instead of responding, you downed half the cup of punch just in time for Steve to look back at you, a grin breaking out on his face as he chanted teasingly, “Chug, chug, chug!”

You nearly choked again, this time as you laughed, sputtering some of the red liquid out of your mouth, “Steve!” You wiped the back of your hand across your mouth to catch the drops sliding down your chin with a giggle, “Stop itttt.”

“Hey!” Steve’s pout matched yours, eyes narrowing at you, bottom lip pushing out, “How come you can tease me when I’m drinking but I can’t tease you?”

Your eyes may have lingered too long on Steve’s lips as he pouted, but he didn’t notice with the way he was unabashedly returning the favor as your tongue darted out to catch the last of the punch that had spilled past your lips. You wondered what his lips would feel like against yours. If they were as soft as they looked. If he was as good a kisser as the girls from high school claimed. You shook your head, desperately trying to focus so you could answer Steve’s question instead of gawk at him, “No, it’s not allowed.”

Steve laughed hysterically as his arms wrapped over your shoulders so he could pull you into him. He got even more affectionate than normal when he’d had some alcohol. Pressing his lips to your hair, he shook his head, but was totally sincere as he replied, “Okay, fine! I’ll never make fun of you again, cutie. Promise. Should we find Robin? Or maybe Nancy and Jonathan?”

His words had you feeling like you were on fire once more, but you quickly agreed, needing to find someone else to get your mind off of Steve. To think of something other than SteveSteveSteveSteve. Your cheek pressed into the rough fabric of the jersey he was wearing, and you nodded against his chest, “Yeah, let’s go find them.”

“Wait,” he paused, fingers wrapping around your arm as you tried to pull away from his grasp, “you still have…” His sentence trailed off as he licked the pad of his thumb before placing his free hand against your cheek, fingers slipping into the hair just behind your ear. His thumb pressed to your chin, rubbing across your skin carefully in an attempt to get rid of the last of the punch that you’d spilled. Steve’s hand slid down, fingers hooking underneath your chin as his thumb dragged down, pulling on your bottom lip slightly, and you thought for a moment that he was going to kiss you then and there, his eyes flashing with something you hadn’t seen in them before. But as quickly as it came, it disappeared, and Steve was back to his tipsy, bubbly self, “Got it!”

You felt absolutely breathless, frozen in place as Steve pulled away searching the crowd for anyone he recognized. “You coming or what, babe?”

“I, uh–” you shook your head to clear it and moved towards Steve, “Yeah, ‘m coming.”

Finding Robin seemed to be a lost cause, but Nancy and Jonathan had been easy to find, talking to some of Nancy’s friends from high school, drinks in hand. And after talking for a bit, it didn’t take much to pull your friends away to dance with you. You immediately grabbed Steve, feeling bolder than you normally would be, and pulled him into you, chest to chest.

Steve’s heart thudded in his chest as his hands grabbed at your hips at the same time, fingers pressing lightly into the soft skin there as you swayed to the music. Had he been sober and more aware of what he was really doing, he probably would’ve been much more flustered with the way you were pressed up against him. And, had he been sober, he would’ve seen the look Nancy and Jonathan were exchanging knowingly, with Nancy in on Robin’s plan.

–

Robin found you a bit later, the sound of your name being called over the music was enough to get your attention, and you quickly stopped dancing next to Nancy to search the crowd of people surrounding you. It wasn’t hard to find Robin, who was already pretty tall and was wearing heels for her costume. You grinned at her, throwing your arms out to her for a hug as you shrieked her name, “Robin!”

“Hey, hot stuff!” she replied, wrapping you up in her arms, careful of the drink in her hand, “Where have you beeeen? I’ve been looking for you everywhere!”

You scoffed, “Stevie and I have been dancing. Thought maybe you weren’t here,” you said, pushing your bottom lip out into a pout.

“I am! I have been the whole time!” she laughed like it was the funniest thing in the world, “I’m glad I found you! We’re gonna play a game!” She paused and turned to point at Steve who had been watching the two of you, “You too, dingus! You’re gonna play, too.”

“What? No, Robin, I don’t—”

“Please, Stevie?” you asked, cutting him off with wide, pleading eyes, even though you had no idea what the game actually was, or who you’d be playing with.

The alcohol Steve had consumed was now starting to wear off, while it seemed like it was in full swing for you. Had Robin shown up half an hour ago while he was still feeling tipsy, and was actually dancing with you, he would’ve agreed no problem. Now, as he started to think a bit more clearly, he knew that Robin’s drunk ideas usually weren’t her best, and at the very least, he’d make sure you all didn’t get into too much trouble. And, as always, he couldn’t say no to the look you were giving him. “Okay, okay, fine! I’ll play.”

Reaching out to close the distance between the two of you, your fingers curled around Steve’s bicep to pull him closer. You were giving him the brightest smile he’d ever seen as you leaned into his side, “Yay! C’mon, Harrington.”

The smile that pulled at Steve’s lips was involuntary as your hand pushed down his arm and into his own hand, tugging him behind you as you followed Robin through the house, back to the other side where she’d been beforehand with a few other friends. They weren’t really people you knew – mostly Robin’s friends from band, and Eddie and a few of his friends – but you weren’t going to let that stop you from having fun.

“Okay!” Robin clapped her hands, drawing the attention of the small group, “Everyone stand up, get in a circle. We’re playing a new game!”

“What game is it?” Eddie grumbled, ever the contrarian, though he was getting to his feet to do as Robin said.

Steve had also reluctantly joined the circle, standing at one of Robin’s sides, arms crossed over his chest as he waited impatiently for her to explain what was going on. You couldn’t help but giggle at his sullen expression as you glanced at him from the other side of your friend standing between the two of you. Your laugh caught his attention, and he cracked a smile as he glanced over Robin to look at you, eyebrows furrowing together as if he was asking “What’s so funny?”

You shook your head, pulling your bottom lip between your teeth with a smile as you quickly glanced away, trying to focus on what Robin was saying. Only after you’d listen to half of the “rules” did you realize that this was some kind of speed costume changing game, and you groaned, feeling a bit too tipsy for trying to change quickly. Not only that, but this felt like a game that some boy in high school had come up with in hopes to see the girl he liked half naked.

“On the count of three, find someone that you want to change costumes with, and then we’ll time everyone! One… two… three!”

You’d been counting on switching with Robin, considering she was right next to you, and you could probably get into at least some of her clothes. Steve had a similar idea – who else was he going to switch with when he’d already shared clothes with her before? – and turned in her direction. Robin, on the other hand, had a different idea, pointing aggressively at Nancy who was across the circle from her, “Nance! You’re my partner!” She quickly stepped out from between you and Steve and darted over to Nancy without letting her respond.

At the same time, both you and Steve groaned in frustration, “Robin!” She all but cackled, an evil grin on her face that you knew meant this had been her plan all along. You’d told her about your feelings for Steve, but you never expected her to use that information against you.

Still, you turned to Steve with a grin, hooking your arm through his to pull him closer to you, “Guess you’re my partner, Harrington! No backing out now!”

As soon as he realized that partners were being shoved in one of the closets one at a time to change as fast as possible, Steve wished desperately that he could back out. His face burned at just the thought of being in a confined space with you while you took off your clothes. He didn’t have long to think about it, though, as after two other pairs were timed, Robin quickly pushed the two of you in, closing the door behind you and plunging you into complete darkness, except for the small sliver from under the door.

You and Steve weren’t strangers to being close to one another, but this felt like a new level of intimacy, and Steve didn’t know what to do. His heart was pounding in his ears, so loud he was worried you’d be able to hear it, too, considering how close you were. It didn’t seem to affect you as much, though maybe that was just the alcohol, and you giggled with an urgent whisper, “Quick! Switch costumes with me, Steve! I don’t wanna lose!” With that, you pulled your shirt over your head, nearly elbowing Steve in the face with how fast you were moving. Steve immediately averted his eyes to the dark ceiling, wanting to be a gentleman, though he’d be lying if he said he’d never thought about you shirtless.

Frustrated with how slow he was moving, you gave his shoulder a weak push, “C’mon, Stevie!”

Steve huffed, amused with how badly you wanted to win, even though he knew it wasn’t going to happen, “Okay, I’m going!” He started unbuttoning the baseball jersey as fast as he could as you started to shove your shorts down your legs, and suddenly his buttons became a lot more interesting, fingers fumbling with the small pieces of plastic. The closet felt scorching hot as he shrugged off the jersey and quickly pulled the plain white tee he was wearing underneath off as well, shoving it in your direction. “Jesus, babe. Here.”

The shirt you’d been wearing had been quickly dropped to the floor as you pulled Steve’s shirt over your head, immediately engulfed in his scent. He always smelled nice, and this shirt was no exception. As much as you wanted to hug yourself and breathe in Steve’s comforting scent, you also wanted to win, and slipped the jersey on, motioning for Steve to take his pants off next. Your voice was frantic when you spoke again, “Pants! Give ‘em to me!”

The giggling from his friends outside the door was distracting to Steve as he thought of ways he could get back at Robin for this. It was torture, really, being shoved into a small space with the girl he liked while they undressed, but in a situation where he couldn’t touch her without seeming like a perv. He was only snapped out of his thoughts when your hands reached out towards his waist, going for the button on his pants. There was no way he could let that happen, and pushed your hands away, all but shouting, “I got it!”

He quickly shimmied out of his pants and traded them with you for the tiny shorts you’d been wearing. Groaning internally, Steve pulled them up his legs and knew immediately that he looked ridiculous. They barely fit over his thighs, and his ass was nearly hanging out. It was bordering on completely inappropriate to be wearing in public; he might as well just be wearing his boxers with how little it left to the imagination. “These do not fit.”

Just then, you stumbled forward as you tried to get Steve’s baseball pants on, hand catching on his chest for the second time that evening. His hand shot out as if on instinct, grasping at the bare skin of your hip to steady you, even though there wasn’t really any place for you to go. You were giggling like a maniac, breathless as you murmured a thanks and pulled the pants up all the way. It was only as you buttoned the pants that you realized your shirt had dropped on the ground, and you grabbed it, shoving it into his hands, failing at your horrible attempt to avoid looking at his bare chest, “Last one!”

Steve stared at the fabric in his hands skeptically; the shirt was already short on you, there was no way this wasn’t going to be the most extreme crop top anyone had ever seen on him, “I don’t wanna rip it!”

“You won’t!” you reassured him, “‘s okay if you do, anyway. ‘M never gonna wear it again.”

Letting out what was possibly the most dramatic sigh you’d ever heard, Steve pulled your shirt over his head. The fabric stretched around his arms and chest, the hem falling just below his pecs. His entire stomach was exposed, and while it wasn’t exactly what he’d prepared for that night, the smile on your face in the dark made it worth it.

As your hand reached for the doorknob, Steve realized you were missing one last piece of his costume, “Wait! Can't forget this.” He lifted his hat off of his head and placed it on yours carefully, running his hand through his hair, “Okay, we’re good.”

Your heart fluttered in your chest as he placed his hat on your head, and you nearly dropped everything to kiss him then and there, but the sound of someone laughing outside the door caught your attention. You gave Steve a grin and then pushed the door open, nearly falling over yourself as you shouted, “We’re done! Did we win?!”

Steve’s hand was at your hip again to steady you as he followed you out. He finally felt like he could breathe again. The whole thing couldn’t have taken more than a few minutes, but it felt like he’d spent a lifetime in the closet with you. So close, but so far.

So wrapped up in his own thoughts, Steve missed everything you and Robin were discussing, until there was a loud wolf whistle from someone else in the group, “Damn, Harrington! Who knew you had all that ass!”

Without even glancing in the direction of the noise, Steve knew who it was. He flipped his middle finger up but grinned at his friend, “Fuck off, Munson!”

You let out a laugh as you turned to Steve to say something, but you felt like all of the air had been sucked out of your lungs when you finally properly saw Steve. It’d been too dark in the closet to really see what your clothes looked like on Steve, so you were surprised to see how little of your costume actually covered him. His biceps, stomach, and legs were on full display, and somehow, it still wasn’t enough. Your eyes caught on his arms, the small moles and freckles that covered his stomach, and then, the trail of dark hair that disappeared into the waistband of the much-too-short shorts.

Robin, who was standing next to you, nudged your shoulder, a smirk evident on her face. Her plan was working. You were short-circuiting. Even though your head was feeling less fuzzy due to the alcohol, you might as well have been drunk on Steve. You watched for a few seconds as he found space on the couch to sit down, his cheeks flushed a light pink, and then turned to your friend.

“Robin!” you hissed her name, grabbing at her elbow to pull her closer to you. You gave her the most menacing glare you could muster, but before you could say anything else, she let out a low giggle.

She looked quite pleased with herself, leaning in and whispering loudly, “Did anything happen in there?”

“No! How would that even be possible?” you asked, laughing a little yourself at her ridiculousness.

“Dunno, but a girl’s gotta try. Still have the rest of the night to make something happen.”

As much as you didn’t want to give in to Robin’s hand, you were starting to realize that if she was trying this hard to get something to happen between you and Steve, it probably meant that Steve felt something for you too. You narrowed your eyes at her and then huffed, all but stomping away in search of Steve. If something was going to happen, it had to happen before you lost the confidence.

He was still sitting on the couch, chatting with Eddie, but quickly looked up as you walked over, eyebrows furrowed in concern at your seriousness, “Are you okay?”

“Will you come with me?” you asked instead of answering his question, holding your hand out to him.

“Yeah, of course,” he replied, still confused, but took your hand in his and stood up, allowing you to lead him away. You weaved in and out of people, trudging up the stairs to find a quieter place to talk.

When you finally found an empty bathroom, you flicked on the lights and pulled Steve inside, shutting and locking the door behind you so no one would bother you. The music from downstairs had quieted to a dull thud and suddenly the idea of confessing your feelings felt much more daunting in the harsh light of the bathroom. You quickly turned away from Steve to try to take a deep breath, wringing your hands. Steve watched in concern, reaching a hand out to rest on your forearm gently, “Hey, what’s going on? Are you okay? Did something happen?”

You were just going to have to go for it. Turning around quickly to face him again, you started rambling, “I don’t really know how to say this, so I think I just have to jump into the fucking deep end and say it. Especially since Robin’s getting on my nerves with all of the scheming and smug smiles, which I’m sure you’ve noticed, but if I’m reading this wrong, I’m really sorry, we can just pretend it never happened, and–”

“Say what, babe?” Steve interrupted, shaking his head which caused his hair to bounce slightly, “You’re worrying me.”

“I really like you, Steve. A lot.”

It was silent for a moment, and you couldn’t tell what Steve was thinking with the way he was staring at you so intently, nearly scrutinizing. Your heart began pounding in your chest, worried that you had read the entire situation wrong. His arms crossed over his chest and he let out a soft sigh, “You’re drunk.”

“I’m not!” you insisted quickly, shaking your head vehemently, “Maybe the tiniest bit tipsy, but mostly sober, I swear. I’m– I’m serious, Steve. I just… I thought maybe Robin had a point? And honestly, you look so fucking good in those shorts, and I–”

You were cut off as Steve surged forward, one hand moving to cup the back of your head, the other grabbing at your hip to pull your body into his. Before you could process what was happening, Steve’s lips were on yours and he was kissing you desperately. Your hands struggled to find purchase as they landed on his shoulders and you kissed him back, hardly able to believe that this was actually happening. That you were kissing Steve. But just as soon as you’d started to wrap your head around it, Steve pulled back, eyes wide, chest heaving.

“You don’t…” he stopped himself and shook his head as he looked down at the floor for a moment before looking up to you, “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do that. How long I’ve liked you.” His hand that had grabbed at your side flattened as he smoothed over the fabric of the baseball pants, his gaze dropping down to the floor again bashfully.

“Are you drunk?” you asked in disbelief.

Steve laughed, a soft and amused sound, as he shook his head and repeated your earlier sentiment, “No. Just barely tipsy, almost completely sober. I feel sober now.”

The kiss had sobered you up, too. Your hands slid down from his shoulders, palms resting flat against his chest as you tilted your head up so you could see him clearly. You could count each individual eyelash if you wanted. Count each and every freckle on his face. But all you really wanted was to kiss him.

Your lips met his again as you pushed your chin up, fingers curling into the fabric of the shirt as Steve sighed into your mouth. Both of his hands dropped to your waist, pressing against your body gently until the small of your back bumped into the counter behind you. He squeezed your waist again as he murmured against your lips, “Up.”

You jumped just enough as he helped to lift you onto the counter. His palms grasped at your thighs, fingers digging into the softness there as he stepped into the space between your legs. Once his lips were back on yours, his hands dropped down to your ass and pulled you forward on the counter easily. The feeling made you gasp; your shorts on him left little to the imagination with how you were pressed against him, “Steve.” Your own hands slid down from where they were resting against his chest and pushed against the soft lines of his abdomen, feeling up towards the tiny shirt on him.

“Mm?” he hummed, distracted by the feeling of your hands on his skin. His lips trailed along your jaw, nipping at your skin softly.

“Want you,” you breathed out, eyes fluttering shut momentarily at the feeling of his lips on your neck.

This caught Steve’s attention and his eyes lit up at your admission, “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” you nodded quickly, cheeks filling with heat as you recalled the moment earlier in the evening when Steve had licked the spilled punch off of his fingers, “Want… want your fingers.”

“Shit, okay, babe. Just let me…” he trailed off as his fingers hooked into the waistband of the baseball pants. You lifted your hips to help, letting him drag the fabric down your legs and drop them to the floor. Steve’s eyes caught on the wet spot in the center of your underwear and he cursed softly as his hands slid back up your legs, thumbs sliding up the inside of your thighs. A smirk was growing on his lips, “Y’already so wet, baby.”

You let out a soft huff of embarrassment, cheek pressing into your shoulder to ease the burn as you looked up at Steve, “You’re… you just… you look really fucking hot in basically a crop top and short shorts and then you’re kissing me like I’ve never been kissed before, and–”

“Relax, cutie. I got you,” Steve’s eyes softened, the pads of his thumbs rubbing small circles up your inner thigh, inching closer and closer to the hem of your panties. At the same time, the tip of his nose brushed down the length of yours before gently nudging up against yours until he caught your lips with his own.

He kissed you a bit softer than he had before, murmuring as his fingers slipped under the hem of your panties, rubbing back and forth against the delicate skin, “Can I get rid of these?”

Instead of answering, you lifted your hips off of the counter again so Steve could pull the fabric off. It dangled off of your ankle for a moment before falling to the ground to join the pants. Steve’s hands were warm at your knees as he pushed your legs apart, but before he could properly touch you, you grabbed at his wrist, fingers circling around it carefully. He watched you in confusion, about to speak but quickly cut himself off when you finally did what you’d been wanting to do all evening.

You pulled his hand up to your mouth, kissing his palm once before your tongue darted out to circle his middle and ring fingers. Steve’s jaw dropped open slightly, eyes somehow growing even wider as you took his fingers into your mouth, his breath hitching, “Jesus fucking christ, babe, I—” Your hand still wrapped around his wrist gave it a small tug, releasing his fingers from your lips with a small pop. “Fuckin’ hell, baby.”

Steve kissed you like it was his last chance, tugging at your lips and licking into your mouth, distracting you enough to let his hand drift back down to your center. You jolted forward, whining into his mouth as his spit-slick fingers traced up your center until his fingertip nudged into your clit. “Please, Stevie.”

“I got you, baby,” he replied softly, emphasizing his words with another circle over your clit. Then, as if reading your mind, he slipped two fingers into you, drawing quiet moans from the both of you. “Shit, you’re so tight.”

His words had you clenching around his fingers as you leaned back, pressing your palms into the cool countertops beneath you. Finally, he started moving his fingers, thrusting them in and out of your cunt at a slow pace. “Steve, I need— oh, shit— I need more.”

Happy to oblige, Steve picked up the pace a bit, fingertips just grazing the spot that was going to make you see stars. Ever in tune with you and your body, he heard your soft whimper, and saw the way your fingers curled over the edge of the countertop, knuckles white with how tightly you were gripping it. He didn’t really have to ask, but did anyway, a knowing smirk settling over his lips, “Right there?”

“Ri-right there,” you repeated, voice breaking as you nodded frantically and rolled your hips against Steve’s hand. He curled his fingers inside of you and then he doubled down, fingertips repeatedly rubbing against the same spot that had you keening before. And when his thumb pressed to your clit, you nearly fell apart then and there.

“C’mon, baby, know you’re close,” Steve muttered, rubbing his thumb over your clit again and again and again until you were clenching around him and falling over the edge with a loud moan of his name.

Your head fell back, thudding against the mirror on the wall behind you as you gasped for air, knocking Steve’s hat on your head off, chest heaving, “Fuck, Steve, I–” The words died in your throat as your eyes fluttered open, only to find Steve with his fingers halfway to his mouth.

He paused for a moment but quickly took note of the way your breath hitched, eyes wide, and slipped his fingers into his mouth, sucking them clean for the second time that evening. You squirmed against the counter, trying to shuffle off of it as Steve hummed around his fingers and then pulled them from his lips, “Mm, y’taste so good, babe.”

“Holy shit, Stevie,” you gasped as you stumbled off of the counter.

Steve’s hands shot out, grabbing at your hips to steady you, “You okay?”

“More than okay,” you replied, nodding as your hands trailed down Steve’s chest. To prove your point, you leaned up on your toes and pressed your mouth to his. One of your hands curled into the tiny shirt as you kissed him, and the other slid down his chest and abdomen, brushing over the soft hair that disappeared under the waistband of the shorts. You paused, pulling your mouth from Steve’s to look up at him through your eyelashes, “Can I?”

“I— yeah,” Steve nodded hard, hair bouncing with the movement. He looked so pretty — prettier than normal — with his messy hair and wide hazel eyes, lips pink and shiny from your kissing. As he dipped back down to kiss you again, you slid your hand under the waistband of the shorts, but over his boxers. He groaned as you began palming him, and you nearly did as well.

The shorts left very little to the imagination — you knew Steve was big, but feeling him hard in your hand was something completely different. You wanted him, and you weren’t sure you could wait much longer. Your fingers tugged at the shorts and his boxers, discarding them into the pile of your clothes, and you pressed a kiss to his hipbone as you straightened up again, “What… what do you want, Stevie?”

His chest heaved as your hand wrapped around his length, stroking him slowly while you waited for an answer. Steve felt like he couldn’t think, couldn’t breathe, couldn’t function. Not when you were finally, finally touching him. He wanted to do so many things with you, but most of all, he wanted you. “Need to be inside you, baby, fuck.”

Your breath hitched a little at his admission and you nodded quickly, wanting whatever he wanted, “Okay. ‘M yours, Stevie.”

“Fuck, you’re gonna be the death of me, baby,” he groaned, fingers sinking into the soft flesh of your hips again to help you back onto the counter and pull you towards the edge. “Do you— um, I don’t have a condom, I—”

“‘S okay,” you shook your head quickly, leaning back into your hands as one of your legs hooked around Steve’s waist and pulled him in closer to you, “‘m on the pill.”

“Are you sure?” he asked softly, eyes searching yours carefully.

“Positive, Steve. I want you. Have for a long time.”

That was enough for Steve, and he shuffled forward, one hand resting against your waist while the other reached down to line himself up at your entrance. You sucked in a sharp breath as Steve pushed in slowly, your hands sliding into his hair at the back of his head. It was more of a stretch than you were used to, and it must have shown on your face because Steve’s hand left your hip and came up to cradle your cheek carefully, lips pressing to the corner of your mouth, “Okay?”

“Mhm,” you breathed out heavily, eyes flicking open to find Steve’s face centimeters from yours. His thumb rubbed soothingly over your cheekbone, back and forth a few times, and you nodded, “More, Steve.”

Steve nodded, pressing another soft kiss to your lips as he pushed forward again slowly, searching your face for any sign that you wanted to stop. And when he found none, he continued until his hips were flush with yours. His jaw clenched, fingers digging into your thigh that was around his waist, and hitched it higher up his side to push a bit deeper. “Tell me when you’re ready,” he murmured, dropping kisses to your shoulder.

Your mind was racing, but with thoughts of only SteveSteveSteveSteve once again. Your senses were flooded with him; the smell of his cologne and sweat, the sound of his heavy breaths in your ear, the taste of his lips on yours, his hands on your body and his cock buried deep inside your cunt. With a gasping breath, you pulled Steve’s chest to yours, your other leg wrapping around his waist. “Ready. ‘M ready. You can move.”

His hands slid under your arms and wrapped around your back to hold you against him as he began to move his hips slowly, “God, baby, you— fuck— you feel so good around me. So good for me, huh? Been wanting you like this forever.”

You rolled your hips into his as you all but sobbed his name, pressing your heels into the small of his back. He took the hint quickly and picked up the pace, the filthy sound of his skin smacking yours filling the small bathroom. Your hands searched over his shoulders and back, slipping underneath the shirt of yours that he was somehow still wearing, nails digging into his skin.

Steve’s chin hooked over your shoulder, and he caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror behind you. He looked just as fucked out as he felt; eyes and hair wild as he clung to you. What really got to him, though, was the sight of his last name sprawled across your back. Maybe, just maybe, you’d finally be his after all of this. Heart racing at the sight, he set a punishing pace, “Look so fuckin’ good in my clothes, sweetheart. You’re so… so fucking perfect.”

“Steve— oh fuck— you feel so good. Gonna come soon, ‘m so close—” you were mumbling incoherently into Steve’s neck, trying your best to meet his thrusts, which became harder as one of his hands snaked down between the two of you to rub over your clit. You clenched around him again at the feeling, pulling the best noise you’d ever heard from the back of Steve’s throat. Your moan echoed his, completely oblivious to the fact that you were still at a party and that someone could probably hear you.

“Gonna come for me, my pretty girl?”

My pretty girl. His and only his. It was enough for you to come undone, Steve’s name intertwined with the curses and filthy moans you couldn’t hold back. His thrusts faltered, hips stuttering against yours as he came, your name spilling from his lips in a way you wanted to hear again and again and again.

Your chest heaved against his as you both tried to catch your breaths, and you left soft, open-mouthed kisses to the crook of his neck where you’d buried your face as you’d come. His hands were gentle as they pushed up your thighs and hips, around your back to slip under the shirt of his you were wearing. They were exceptionally warm, tracing over the curve of your spine as he pressed your body into his, voice soft at your ear as he murmured, “Are you okay?”

You let out a soft laugh as you kissed up Steve’s jaw, fingers slipping into the slightly damp hair at the nape of his neck, twisting a strand around your index finger, “‘M perfect, Steve. Are you okay?”

“Fuck,” he laughed, shaking his head in amusement, popping up from your shoulder to look into your eyes, “I’ve never been better. Meant what I said… been wanting you forever.”

“Yeah?” you asked quietly, feeling bashful, like he wasn’t still inside of you.

“Oh yeah,” he nodded, dipping his head down to press a soft peck to your lips. At the same time, his hands moved back down to your hips, holding you tightly as he finally pulled out. You winced slightly at the feeling, causing a soft apology to tumble from Steve’s lips, followed by another soft peck.

It was quiet as you cleaned each other up as best as you could, stealing sweet kisses from the other more often than necessary. The sound of the music had finally come back into focus, and you realized that it wasn’t as loud as you’d remembered. Still, you’d do it all again, even though you weren't sure you could walk, and you knew your friends were going to give you shit for how long the two of you had disappeared.

As you redressed, you finally swapped your clothes back, but just as you were about to give Steve the last piece of his costume — the jersey — he shook his head, cupping your cheek in his hand, tilting your head up, “You wear it. Looks better on you. And besides, need everyone to know you’re mine now.”

You didn’t put up a fight, grinning and shrugging the jersey back over your shirt that Steve had definitely stretched out. Smoothing down your shirt, you held your hands out to your sides slightly, “Good?”

Steve laughed again, reaching out to swipe a thumb under your eye in an attempt to remove some of the mascara that had smudged, “As good as it’s gonna get. And still perfect. Ready?”

Before he could open the door, you grabbed his hat off of the counter and brushed his hair back before placing it on his head, “For the sex hair. Oh, and Steve?”

“Yeah, cutie?”

“Good game!” you giggled, slapping his ass before bolting out of the bathroom, leaving Steve to stare after you for a few moments with the biggest grin on his face.

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington smut #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington oneshot #steve harrington imagine #strangertober #best friend!steve #best friend!steve harrington #steve harrington x f!reader #steve harrington x fem!reader #sunshinehollandd #sunshinehollandd writing

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wordsaresimple-imnot · 25 days

Note

smut ,Joe liebgot and the reader dry humping and slightly pleasing eachother in there foxhole in the cold

Body heat - Joe Liebgott x F!Reader

Anon, I loved this prompt! Thank you! I hope you enjoy it! ;)

Warnings: 18+ content sorta, dry humping, making-out, cursing, she/her pronouns, 1st person pov (female).

A/N: I have the biggest respect for the real life heroes of WWII (and all other wars, past & current), this work & all other works is based on the actor(s) and character(s) portrayed in the Band of Brothers series.

A/N pt 2: This was fun to write and I enjoyed the idea a lot! Hope y'all enjoy it! Please comment, like, reblog :) :)

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Another gust of wind lifts the tarp covering the top of our foxhole, blasting cold, wet air around us effectively stealing what little warmth we'd managed build up around ourselves.

"Goddamn it! When this is over, I never want to see the rain or snow ever again." I grumble, pulling the blanket tighter around myself, but it's damp and can only do so much.

"Quit bitching, you're ruining the mood." Liebgott smirks at the glare I shoot him.

"Fuck you." Any venom I have in my voice is lost as my teeth chatter.

"Would love to, but it's too cold." I see him shiver slightly.

"Glad to know that's the only reason." I roll my eyes.

"Course it is." He shoots me a wink and I feel a little bit of heat crawl up my neck and cheeks. Suddenly I'm thankful it's pitch black right now so he can't see my blush.

"Shut up." I mutter half heartedly, shoving his shoulder before attempting to get comfortable next to him. We are silent for a few minutes as, I assume, we try to get semi warm enough to doze a little until he speaks again.

"You know...sharing body heat is a great way to get warm." His voice is low but the words bounce around us on the wind. Again, I send a thank you to the universe that he can't see how flushed I am. I turn my head to tell him to shut up again and find his eyes already on me. The heat in his eyes has the words dying on my tongue.

"What?" Is all I can manage to get out, which I mentally kick myself for. Real smooth. His hand slips out from under his own blanket and grabs mine, tugging me towards him.

"Come here." He moves me around like I'm his own personal ragdoll, rearranging our blankets so one's over the top of our heads and shoulders and the other is around my back with the ends tucked behind him. The new position has be straddling his lap, our bodies centimeters away and our faces so close we are sharing each others breathes. I can feel his hands rubbing up and down my thighs, squeezing my hips every other time. My own arms are draped around his shoulders.

Joe nudges my nose with his. "Told you this would be warmer." All I can do is nod, making him smirk. "I don't know about you, but my lips are still cold."

At his words my eyes drop down to his lips and watch as his tongue runs over them, then look back to his eyes that haven't lost their heat. I make the split second decision to worry about the consequences and what-ifs at a later date and close the gap between us. He eagerly kisses me back, moving one hand to the back of my neck to hold my head where he wants it, while the other wraps around my waist to keep me flush against him.

Our tongues meet and we enjoy a long exploration of each others mouths; licking and sucking and nipping. After a particularly sharp bite on my bottom lip, I grind down onto his lap and then groan at the feel of his growing erection beneath me. I grind down again and this time Joe groans with me.

"Do it again, baby." He pleads against my lips. When I do he kisses me again to muffle the noises we make. I move one of my hands to grip his upper arm tightly to help my leverage and swivel my hips until I find the angle that gives us both the pleasure we need. Once I find that I set a hard pace that Joe eagerly lifts his hips to match.

Soon the cold around us is forgotten as we focus on keeping the other quiet and chasing the pleasure building inside us. Joe lets go of my neck and I feel both his hands grabbing my ass, using it to press me harder against him. My pace starts to become erratic.

"Fuck, I'm close Joe." Joe gives me a hard nip on my jawline and whispers in my ear.

"I got you, let go baby." My head turns to the side and I bite down hard on his shoulder, trying to hide my moan as much as possible. As I'm coming down from my high, I feel Joe's movements becoming more frantic. I turn my head away from his shoulder, nipping at the bit of flesh exposed on his neck and then his jawline.

Three thrusts later he stills beneath me, breathing heavily as he lets out curses and my name. We melt even more into each other, enjoying the post-orgasm bliss and warmth we created around us. Just as I'm drifting off, I feel Joe drop a kiss on the top of my head and my heart flutters.

But that's something to address at a later time.

#joe liebgott #joe liebgott x reader #band of brothers #band of brothers fanfic #fic request #anon request #hbo war #hbo band of brothers

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ameenvie · 7 months

Text

Wildest Dreams - jamie tartt x keeley jones x fem!reader

masterlist | ao3 | ko-fi | fic recs

Word count: 4k Pairing: Jamie Tartt x Keeley Jones x fem!reader Warnings: nsfw, smut, minors DNI!, threesome, oral (both m and f receiving), dirty talk, dom!Keeley, switch!Jamie, fingering, vaginal sex, unprotected sex Tags: smut Prompt/Summary: Kinktober day 5 - Threesome. You have a sex dream about Keeley and your boyfriend Jamie makes sure that your dreams come true. A/N: I'm sure Taylor Swift didn't write Wildest Dreams so I can title a smutfic after it but oh well! The premise might be super silly but this is what I came up with lol, but hey it's smut so it doesn't have to be logical at all times right? 😭 I hope y'all like it! Also I'm not sure what the rules are here but I'd like to finish the rest of the prompts even though it won't be October anymore. Is that legal? 😂 Have fun, and let me k now how you liked this one! ❤❤

Your eyes shot open, and you needed a second to take in your surroundings in the dark. Your heart was beating rapidly in your chest, and you let out a shaky breath as you looked over at your phone to check the time. It was a dream.

The small digits said 5:34 and you were relieved you still could catch a little sleep before actually having to wake up. You turned to your side and saw Jamie sleeping with his back towards you, so you scooched over to wrap your arm around his waist, spooning him. He felt so warm and as you were listening to his breathing, feeling his chest rising and falling steadily, you were asleep again in just mere seconds.

The morning sun peeked through the blinds when you woke up. You were laying on Jamie’s chest as he was slowly caressing your hair, planting a soft kiss on the top of your head.

“Morning, love” he mused, and leaned down to kiss you. “Did you sleep well?” he asked with a smug smile on his face. You paid no mind to it.

“Yeah, it was alright. Do you want some breakfast?”

“Mm, are you on the menu?” he asked cheekily and you rolled your eyes at him. You were laughing as you got out of the bed and started your day.

You splashed some water on your face in the bathroom after you brushed your teeth absent-mindedly. You still couldn't get your dream out of your head, it loomed over you like a raincloud, spreading into every corner of your mind. The weather was exceptionally sunny, given that it was the middle of autumn in England. Maybe you could go for a walk on the countryside with Jamie – you thought as you prepared your favorite quick breakfast. You were so preoccupied you didn’t realize he entered the kitchen, only when he already stood behind you with his hands on your hips, pulling you flush against his chest. His mouth hovered against your ear, and you felt his breath on your neck, causing a shiver to run down your spine as your breath hitched and heat rose in your belly.

“Stop, or I’ll mess up your food” you chuckled as he pressed a kiss on your neck. Truth was he drove you mad.

“Would be worth it” he replied and turned you around to face him. He was looking at you with a beaming smile, but didn’t say anything else. You were so in love with him.

“So” you started as you finished up the breakfast and moved to the dining table, “any plans for today?” You were very excited that you could finally spend the whole weekend together, without a match our excessive training. It’s not that Jamie’s job bothered you – hell, you were his biggest fan and supporter, but it was nice to spend some time together, just the two of you from time to time.

“I thought we could invite Keeley over” he said nonchalantly, which caused you to choke on your own spit.

“You what?” you asked, and you couldn't hide the shock in your tone, which you realized didn’t make any sense. Why couldn't he invite her over? She’s your friend. He cocked a brow at you and let out a small chuckle.

“Are you okay? That a problem?”

“No, no! Not at all, it just went to the wrong pipe, that’s all.” You scratched your throat to emphasize. “I’d love to have her, sure.”

A wide, almost Cheshire cat smile spread across his face and his eyes lit up. Honestly if you weren’t occupied by trying to act normal you would've definitely realized that he was acting weird. But you didn’t.

“Wicked! I’ll drop her a text. Should we get food?”

“Yeah, sure” you said, your mind still in an embarrassed haze. “Hey, Jamie?”

“Yes, love?”

“Shouldn't we invite Roy as well?” Jamie didn’t reply at first, he just chuckled.

“Maybe next time.” You nodded and finished your breakfast before the two of you went out to do some grocery shopping and planned dinner. The day went by pretty fast and agonizingly slow at the same time. You felt awkward, your nerves were restless, your mind running thousand miles a second. It’s so stupid, it’s just a dream! It’s normal for friends to have sex dreams about each other. It’s not like she knows. You must act natural.

The ring of the doorbell snapped you out of your thoughts.

“I’ll get it!” Jamie said and bolted towards the entrance of your shared home. You tried to calm your nerves as you braced yourself.

“Hey babes!” Keeley said in her usual singsong voice as she hugged you. You hugged her back and let out an awkward ’hi’. She chuckled before she looked at Jamie.

“Dinner is ready in a few seconds, take a seat!” you offered, and they sat down. Jamie opened a bottle of wine for you, but he didn’t drink. You served the dinner and after a bit of time and a glass of wine – your nerves finally calmed down. Jamie seemed very affectionate all evening, he touched you at every given occasion, ran his fingers on your thigh, kissed the top of your hand.

During dinner you laughed and talked a lot, Keeley shared funny stories about work, you reminisced about old times, it was a light-hearted, warm moment. But you couldn't help yourself catching glimpses of her lips from time to time, remembering the way they kissed you in your dream. Her fingers wrapped around the wine glass, reminding you how they curled inside you. You squeezed your thighs together and let out a shaky breath before you stood up abruptly, muttered a small ’excuse me’ and stormed off to the bathroom.

You splashed some water on your face before Jamie entered behind you.

“You alright, love?” he stood behind you just like he did in the morning, this time wrapping his arms around your chest, kissing your neck. You let out a shaky breath.

“Jamie, I-” you started, hesitating if you should even say anything. It was so silly. “I had a sex dream about Keeley last night.” you blurted out, squeezing your eyes shut. You felt Jamie smile into your neck.

“I know” the prick said. He said, ‘I know’. You spun around in his arm, a look of disbelief on your face.

“I’m sorry you what?” you scoffed. “I swear to God Jamie you’re such an asshole!”

“C’mon love, wait a second-” he started but you left him in the bathroom alone, your blood was boiling in your veins. You felt like you were made fun of. Mocked. By him of all people. You sighed before you went back to the kitchen, and you saw Keeley has moved to the couch.

“You want more wine?” you asked, and she nodded enthusiastically. You chuckled as you settled next to her and poured both of you some.

“Everything alright?” she asked, leaning against the back of the couch.

“Yeah, of course. All good.” You took a sip.

“You know you can tell me anything right?” she asked, but it was more of a rhetorical question. She didn’t need any answers, she knew them already. You trusted her with your whole life. She was sweet, funny, beautiful, loyal, and her eyes were looking so deep inside yours that for a second you thought the world stopped spinning before she leaned in and kissed you.

It was shy at first, unsure if the gesture was welcome. And for a second you weren’t sure either, shock paralyzed your body. But after a few seconds you set your glass down and kissed her back, planting both your hands on her face, pulling her closer. Her kiss deepened as she bit your lip before she smiled. Her hand wandered to your waist where she dug her nails into you before she pulled away for air. She looked into your eyes before her gaze locked onto something behind you, and when you turned you saw Jamie leaned against the door frame of the living room.

Blood froze in your veins as the situation just dawned on you.

“Jamie, I-” you started, but he chuckled as Keeley shushed you and turned your head back towards her.

“C’mon babes” she mused as she caressed your face with her thumb. “He was bit of a prick, wasn’t he?” She looked at Jamie who still didn’t move from the door frame, but she didn’t let you to turn around. She moved closer to you to trace her lips against your neck and ear. “Doesn’t he deserve to watch his mad fit girl get kissed by someone else?” She purred; her eyes locked on Jamie’s. His jaw clenched as he held back a moan. Your eyes shut; you tilted your head to give better access to Keeley. This whole situation was so unreal, you just let it take you wherever.

Her lips pressed slow, wet kisses on your neck as she moved to your jawline, then your ear.

“I want you to tell me if you want me to stop, okay?” she asked. “I’ll stop any second, okay babes? Promise me.”

“I- I promise” you whispered, and you heard Jamie’s shaky sigh from the background. You weren’t really aware of what was happening around you, but Keeley nodded for Jamie to move closer, so he settled in one of the armchairs.

She pressed her lips against yours once more, this time with more pressure, more passion. Her tongue grazed against your lower lip, asking for access which you so happily granted. Her tongue was in your mouth in a second, her tongue swirling around yours, dancing in a perfect rhythm. Her hand sneaked under your t-shirt, leaving light touches on your abdomen, moving up to your breast. She quickly unclasped your bra and squeezed your breast, which caused you to moan into her mouth. The reality of the situation still hasn’t dawned on you yet, as she ran her thumb across your nipple, toying with the hard bud.

“Do you want me to stop?” she whispered.

“No, God” you stuttered, and you involuntarily bucked your hips.

“Gosh, Jamie, is she always this needy? Aren’t you giving the poor thing what she needs?” she chuckled while looking at Jamie. You couldn't help but followed her gaze to your boyfriend, who just sat there, pupils blown wide, and had a massive blush on his cheeks. You weren’t sure if you ever saw him like this before, and you felt self-conscious but bold at the same time.

Keeley turned your body towards him and knelt behind you on the couch. You felt flustered keeping eye contact with Jamie.

She took the hem of your shirt and slowly pulled it over your head before she slid the strap of your bra down your arms, exposing your chest completely. You noticed the massive tent in Jamie’s pants, and she did too. She started to slowly massage both your breasts and boy did she make a show out of it. She was squeezing and fondling them while she kissed your neck, biting down lightly. You closed your eyes and tilted your head to the side to give better access before she slowly swiped her thumb against your hard nipple.

“No touching yourself, babe” she mused and for a second you didn’t understand – your hands were gripping the couch next to you – but then you opened your eyes and saw Jamie squirming in the armchair. You moaned and you felt arousal pool in your underwear. “So greedy, isn’t he? Wants all the fun for himself” she smirked before she put her thumb in your mouth. You licked it and swirled your tongue around it before you started to suck it, making a real show out of it. Jamie’s grip tightened on the armrest as he looked at you.

“Fucking hell, love” he moaned, causing Keeley to chuckle. She pulled her finger out of your mouth before pressing it against your nipple, drawing lazy circles around it. The new sensation caused you to see stars. She took her own fingers into her mouth before she pushed them inside your pants and underwear. Your hips rolled against her fingers as you tilted your head back.

“Keeley” you whispered while slowly grinding against her fingers.

“Do you want me to stop?” she asked but you shook your head quickly.

“No, please, please-“ you whined but she silenced you with a kiss before she looked over to Jamie and invited him over, and he was more than happy to do so. In a heartbeat he was kneeling in front of you, wrapping you up in a warm embrace as he stole you from Keeley for a moment. He kissed you with so much love and adoration that you felt your heart burst with love. You wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him flush against you, while Keeley drew slow circles on your back, not wanting to interrupt the moment.

“Jamie, I’m sorry-“ you started, but he shushed you and shook his head. He pressed his soft lips on yours as he licked into your mouth, his tongue grazing against yours.

“I love you” he whispered before he moved his hands to your hips and started to pull your pants down. He did it slowly, leaving soft kisses at every new inch of naked skin. In the meantime, Keeley took her blouse off and you felt her half-naked breasts press against your back as she moved her hands back to where they were before. Jamie reached to touch the wet patch on your underwear before Keeley brushed his hand away and clicked her tongue.

“No touching, pretty boy. Not yet” she smiled as she pushed her fingers through your folds. You arched your back and whimpered as she moved them excruciatingly slow. “Get rid of those, will ya’?”

Jamie didn’t need another word, he hooked his finger into your underwear and started to pull down slowly, revealing your dripping cunt in front of him.

“Good boy.” Keeley’s slender fingers were slowly caressing your folds, stopping just before they touched your clit, teasing you. When Jamie got your panties off, he threw them to the side and spread your thighs. He was practically drooling at the sight in front of him, and you felt exposed as you were laid out in front of them, completely naked while they were still very much clothed. Jamie looked up at Keeley, but she just smiled.

“Do you want a taste, pretty boy? Of this?” she asked as she spread your folds with her fingers before him. You were flustered as you felt your juices drip out of your pussy at her words. This whole scene was so obscene, but it drove you mad. You loved it. Jamie didn’t answer he just nodded. “Should we let him have a taste?” Keeley whispered in your ear while she pinched your nipple. “Do you want his tongue on you?”

You heard Jamie groan and you looked into his eyes. He looked like he wanted to devour you.

“Yes, I- please Keeley, Jamie-“ you struggled to put a proper sentence together, but it was good enough. She nodded and Jamie let out a relieved sigh before he blew some air onto your clit which caused you to roll your hips and whine out as he finally kissed your cunt. He wrapped his arms around your thighs and pulled you closer into him as he devoured you, lapping at your drenched entrance before he moved to kissing and sucking your clit.

You were a moaning and whimpering mess under their touches, which they loved. Keeley was kissing you and playing with your breasts while Jamie ate you out as a man with a mission. And his only mission was to please you. He moved his finger and teased it against your entrance before he pushed it in, quickly adding another one after. His tongue never left you and you started to feel overwhelmed – all these sensations made your head spin, and you felt a knot building in your belly as you rocked your hips against Jamie’s lips faster. Your grip on the couch tightened and it was almost painful, but you needed something to keep you grounded. The room was filled with the noise of your heavy breathing, moans, and skin rubbing against each other.

“Are you having fun, babes?” Keeley whispered in your ear between two kisses. You didn’t reply just nodded furiously, which she rewarded with a chuckle. “Look at her, Jamie, isn’t she gorgeous?”

Jamie’s eyes fluttered open as he looked up at you from between your thighs, and as you locked eyes you felt your body on fire, your orgasm approaching rapidly.

“Fuck, Jamie, I’m-“ you whined, your hand moving into his hair. “Please” you breathed out and he knew exactly how close you were. He moved all his attention to your clit while curling his fingers inside you just how he knew you loved, fucking you faster. You were grasping for air as you felt all your muscles tense before releasing completely, your orgasm washed over you, white overcome your vision as your toes curled, and your walls tightened around his fingers.

He moved his lips from you, planting soft kisses on your thighs as he helped you through your orgasm.

“Fucking hell, angel” he breathed, resting for a second. Once you regained a little of your composure, you pulled him up and made him sit next to you on the couch, between you and Keeley. The tent in his pants was massive and you almost felt sorry for him, so you decided to quickly ease his pain as you pulled his pants down. Keeley didn’t intervene, she just adored the two of you. Once you got his clothes off, his erection sprung free, and you already saw a few beads of precum leaking from it. You bit your lips before you leaned down and licked the tip of his dick. He hissed as he threw his head back, he was so sensitive after all the teasing.

You swiped a long lick against him before you got him into your mouth, hollowing your cheeks and slowly bobbing your head. Jamie was cursing under his breath, singing you praises.

“Fucking hell, love, so good. So good for me” he moaned as you licked and sucked his dick. You were lost in the sensation for a second before Keeley's voice snapped you out of it.

“May I?” she asked, and you looked up at her from under your lashes. Her hand was holding Jamie’s jaw, turning his head towards her. She wanted to kiss him. You didn’t remove your mouth from him, just nodded.

Keeley slowly planted her lips on Jamie’s, and he pushed himself deeper into your throat, causing tears to form in the corner of your eyes. You were so turned on you felt your body could combust into flames at any second. You couldn't help but peeked at them, and the sight was beautiful. Their kiss was passionate, all tongue and teeth while Jamie fucked your mouth. He held Keeley’s breast before he turned to you as they broke apart for air.

“Is this okay?” he started. “If not, I won’t touch her.” His eyes were honest, concerned and loving.

“I want you to make her feel good” you answered, and he moaned before you took him into your mouth again.

“I fucking love you.”

He kissed her again while he removed her bra before he took her nipple in his mouth, sucking on it harshly. Keeley threw her head back and moved her hand under your lips to wrap her fingers around Jamie where you couldn't take him anymore. You playfully licked her finger which caused her to chuckle.

Jamie grabbed your free hand and moved it to Keeley’s bare crotch. You weren’t sure if she removed her underwear when you weren’t looking or she just didn’t wear any, but it turned you on all the same.

“I want you to make her feel good” he said between heavy breaths. You moaned around his cock which caused him to twitch in your mouth. You swiped your thumb against Keeley's clit before you pushed a finger inside her. She was soaking wet. Her hand flinched at the sensation, and she spread her legs to give you better access. It was messy, you were all limbs tangled in each other, lost in the pleasure. But it also felt just right.

You quickened the pace of your finger as you felt Keeley ride you harder. Her breathing became shallow as she succumbed to the pleasure of your finger inside her and Jamie’s lips on her. With his free hand he grabbed your hair to still your movement, removing you from his dick.

“I want to fuck you first” he breathed, his chest rising and falling quickly. Your fingers never stilled inside Keeley, before she snapped, body freezing as she came all over your fingers. Jamie kissed her forehead as you helped her through her high, before pulling out your fingers. Jamie pulled you up before he kissed you and hugged you, while you held Kelley's hand.

“Was that alright?” you asked sheepishly, and as an answer she just laughed.

“Turn around” Jamie said, before he grabbed your waist and turned you to face away from him, straddling him. He sat up a bit and kissed the back of your neck. “Is this everything you dreamed of?” he mused before he kissed the sweet spot just under your ear.

“It’s more” you whispered as you felt him against your entrance. He smiled before he bit down onto your neck, and he slid inside you. The stretch was mind blowing, even after all this time.

“God, love. So good for me ain’t ya?” His head was buried against your neck as he held you against him. “So fucking tight.”

Keeley kneeled in front of you and kissed you before she started massaging your breasts again.

“You’re killing me” you moaned and rocked your hips harder against Jamie. In this position he hit your sweet spot with every thrust, driving you insane.

Keeley moved from your breast slowly to your abdomen, before she was face level with where Jamie entered you.

“Like the view?” he asked her with a smug tone, but he could barely keep it together.

“She’s so good, isn’t she?” she asked, and you felt yourself clench at the praise.

“Ah fuck, you like that don’t you angel?” His hips started to rock into you a little harder as he leaned against the back off the couch. “Such a good girl for us.” As if that wasn’t enough, Keeley dipped her head to lick your clit which caused you to flinch. She smirked before moving her head back down, this time licking both of you at the same time. Jamie’s fingers dug into your hips as he felt your pussy around him and her tongue on him at the same time.

She seemed to enjoy it just as much you did, making you squirm and whine under her tongue as she lapped at your cunt and Jamie’s dick at the same time.

“Keeley, fucking hell” he moaned, and your walls clenched around him. Your second orgasm started to build as you felt your muscles tense, ready to release at any second. “C’mon love, come with me” Jamie moaned into your ear as he bit your neck before pushing inside you harder. Keeley’s tongue circled around your clit in perfect rhythm before she sucked on it while she was caressing Jamie’s balls.

“Fuck, I can’t-“ he stuttered before his thrusts became erratic and he spilled his load inside you. The sensation pushed you over the edge and you came hard - walls crashing down as the coil snapped inside you and you came all around him. After a few sloppy thrusts Jamie pulled out of you and settled you and Keeley on the couch before he returned with some wet towels. He sat down next to you and embraced you.

The three of you were tangled on the couch, basking in the afterglow.

#jamie tartt x reader #jamie tartt smut #keeley jones x reader #keeley jones smut #fawktober2023 #jamie tartt imagine #jamie tartt ff #jamie tartt fanfiction #jamie tartt x you #x reader #ted lasso x reader #kinktober2023 #smut

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scarletlizzard · 3 months

Text

So apparently I hit 500 followers? Thank you to everyone who follows and has interacted with my fics!! 🥳

I thought this would be fun to celebrate? I have a list of random dialogue that y'all could pick from to send me. Ranges from everywhere to fluff, angst, NSFW, etc. And I'll write a little short something for it!

Feel free to pick a number or few to send or you could be specific with who you want or a specific trope or plot. Anything!

Thank y'all so much, made my whole day 💕

104 Dialogue Prompts

1. "Admit it... you're in love with me."

2. "We could get arrested for this."

3. "I thought you were dead."

4. "I've missed this."

5. "You could've died."

6. "Who did this to you?"

7. "I know, I know, I'm sorry... it'll be over soon, I promise."

8. "Come back to bed."

9. "How long has it been since you slept?"

10. "Tell me where you are, I'll come get you."

11. "I still love you."

12. "Such a good girl."

13. "Open your mouth for me, baby."

14. "We have to make this quick."

15. "Beg for it."

16. "Mommy?"

17. "You're in love with them. Aren't you?"

18. "It was you? This whole time?"

19. "You know, just cause you're older don't think for one second I'm not in charge."

20. "Smile at me like that again, I'll fall in love with you."

21. "... is that a trick question?"

22. "Don't just stand there, say something."

23. "Say that again, I dare you."

24. "Fuck you." "Right now?"

25. "I'm joking! Unless..."

26. "You take me so well."

27. "What do you mean I'm dead? I'm standing right here."

28. "Please, I'm begging you. Just hear me out."

29. "Oh fuck... I'm in love with (x)." "You're just now realizing that?"

30. "What if you didn't go? What if you stayed?"

31. "You like it rough, don't you, slut?"

32. "Flowers?"

33. "I hate you. I hate you. I hate you."

34. "Fuck, marry, kill..."

35. "Truth or dare?"

36. "Since when did you ever care about me?"

37. "You think I wanted this to happen? You think I wanted to fall in love with you?"

38. "May I have this dance?"

39. "I know I'm the last person you want to see, but..."

40. "I'm done! I am done waiting for you."

41. "It's okay, you're okay, I'm here. I've got you."

42. "Touch her again and see what happens."

43. "Is that a hickey?"

44. "I'm fine, it's just a bruise..."

45. "I'm going to fucking kill them."

46. "Are you sure about this?"

47. "Why are you all sweaty?"

48. "You left! You left and you didn't even think to look back. What was I supposed to do?"

49. "Well... this is awkward."

50. "You know I've been flirting with you this whole time right?"

51. "They'll never love you the way I did."

52. "If you're trying to make me jealous, it's working."

53. "Wanna bet?"

54. "Just say that you want me and I'm yours."

55. "I'm going to ruin you for anyone else."

56. "Wait you've never kissed a girl?"

57. "Where did all this attitude come from, princess?"

58. "Take my hand."

59. "Can I have your number?"

60. "You're an idiot." "Well yes, you'll have to be more specific."

61. "Quick! Pretend to be my girlfriend?"

62. "Run away with me."

63. "Are you going to be a good girl for mommy?"

64. "That collar looks so good on your pretty neck."

65. "Too bad, you're going to take every last fucking inch of me."

66. "Do you ever think before speaking?"

67. "Count them for me."

68. "You snore."

69. "Let's try that position." (I know, I know)

70. "Bullshit! You're telling me you just don't blush?" "Nope, never."

71. "Just tell her how you feel." "I'd rather get shot again."

72. "Oh my god are you okay?" "Yeah I'm fine, I've been stabbed before."

73. "Daddy?"

74. "Can't we go back to how things used to be?"

75. "Save a horse ride a cowgirl, amiright?"

76. "I like you. A lot."

77. "Is that the best you can do?"

78. "I'll consider kissing you if you can beat me."

79. "Please, pull the trigger."

80. "I'm not drunk enough for this."

81. "You can't run away from this forever."

82. "I know you're having nightmares again."

83. "Would you like me to whisper it in your ear?"

84. "Stop looking at me like that."

85. "Somebody's cranky." "Somebody needs to shut the fuck up."

86. "Get on your knees."

87. "How stupid do you think I am? Don't answer that."

88. "I can't sleep."

89. "Just relax, let me make you feel good."

90. "Close the door."

91. "Was that supposed to hurt?"

92. "I've wanted this for so long."

93. "You can do better than that. Beg for it."

94. "Controlling? Oh I'll show you controlling."

95. "You drive me fucking crazy!"

96. "Nobody needs to know."

97. "Take another step and you'll be dead before you open your fucking mouth again."

98. "Do they always look like that?" "Just when (x) is around."

99. "I made you a playlist."

100. "I know you said you would die for me but I didn't think you meant that literally!"

101. "Is that... blood?" "Huh? Oh yeah! Oh I'm fine it's not mine."

102. "Why are you always looking at me like that?" "Like what?"

103. "Hero? Please. You heroes have to win every time. But being the villain? I only have to win once."

104. "You've changed." "You haven't."

#scarletlizzard thoughts #500 followers #marvel #wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda x reader #elizabeth olsen #elizabeth olsen x reader #natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x reader

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hotchsofficialwifey · 9 months

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Heyo, I'm about as new to requests as you are to writing fanfictions, so please also bear with me if I do this wrong xD Also, just write and don't say sorry, after all we should be thanking you for putting your content out there :3 Thanks for doing this! Looking forward to your stories :-) So for the prompts:

- Jonathan Crane date with scientist!reader (I'd be really interested in something completely different from Crane's interests, like computer science/math). Maybe they know each other from university and get in touch again when he works at Arkham and appears on the news or sth.

- Neil Lewis smut where the reader crushes a little too much on a character in a movie (👀) and Neil gets jealous.

- Jonathan Crane fluff/smut where the reader has a nightmare and Crane tries to comfort them while also being turned on by the fear? xD

hi! thanks so much for your request, sorry it took me so long to get to it. I'll try to do all of your requests but i'll start with the last one. thanks again, hope you enjoy!

summary: your sleeping over at your boyfriend Jonathan's house when you have a terrible nightmare. thankfully, he's there to help.

pairing: jonathan crane x fem!reader

warnings: light smut (jonathan's horny but nothing really happens, more smut to come later ;) ), fluff, descriptions of a bad dream (nothing too scary, dw), use of fear toxin, hurt/comfort,

You're sitting on a field, eating ice cream on a sunny day, and the drizzling rain doesn't deter you from enjoying your summer afternoon. The world is bright, fun, colorful, and at ease.

But it all passes as soon as it came. The drizzling rain turns into booming thunder, and it pours and pours like buckets. You run into a nearby store, soaking wet and praying for a safe place to wait out the storm. The sky is a nauseating shade of grey, you notice once in the safety of the store. Then, you see it. A shadow lurking in the walls with red piercing eyes. Your breath catches in your throat as you inch away from it.

It, however, lunges towards you, and initiates a chase. You're running through the pouring rain, heart pounding and screaming for help, but the world is empty. Silent. Under different circumstances, maybe even peaceful. You run faster and harder, wailing and begging for help, but when you turn around...it's gone! You sigh in relief, but hide behind a tree for safe-keeping. You wait a few moments, but the coast seems clear. As soon as you begin to walk back to the store, your snatched by a shadowy claw wrapped around your neck.

You wake with a jolt, gasping as your eyes shoot open. It was a dream, you think. Just a dream.

"You okay?" A gravely, half-asleep voice asks. You turn to see Jonathan's soft brown eyes, and your heart slows at the sight of him.

"Yeah, yeah I'm fine." You say, still slightly breathless. But upon remembering the dream, tears resurface in your eyes. " I just had a really fucked up dream." You say with a quivering voice.

"Oh, baby." Jonathan coos, wrapping his arms around you. "It's okay..." He murmurs. His voice is sweet as honey, but his mind is far from it. The tightening in his pants only grows as tears begin to stream down your face and land on his white shirt. He shifts uncomfortably, hoping you don't notice how flustered he is as his hand rubs your back carefully.

"Jonny?" Your sweet voice calls. "You okay?"

He nods quickly, trying to play it cool.

"Yeah..." he smiles. "Yeah, I'm fine. Let's just go back to sleep, sweetheart..." As you both lay back down, he quickly hides the can of fear toxin he used on you.

a/n: yay, first fic on here!! not my best work, but i wanted to write a little something because i feel like I kept y'all waiting for too long lol. hope this was okay, much more to come soon!

#cillian murphy #cillian murphy smut #cillian murphy x reader #fanfic #jonathan crane #Jonathan crane fluff #light smut #hurt/comfort #nightmares #dc universe #the scarecrow #scarecrow #cillian murphy fluff

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dreamties · 1 year

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Various! Horror Reacting to their S/O Sleeping W/ Stuffed Animals

A/n- Let me know what character's I should do for the prompt next :D

Inspired by a previous headcanon set I did! If you want to read some quick ones for Billy/Stu, Brahms & Michael -> click here

T/W for some mild language + mentions of torture !! <3

This set includes: The Sinclair Brothers, Randy Meeks + Sidney Prescott

Taglist: @strawberry-moonpies —> let me know if you’d like to be added or removed from this list <3

Sinclair Brothers

None of them really mind <33 except Bo, he's a totaly stinker abt it >:(

Bo finds it weird and he lets you know that. he is literally the lamest partner when it comes to this . . . don't let his negativity bog you down tho, hun!! his brothers are far kinder on it, you don't need Bo's stupid reaction <3333

having said all that about Bo . . . there is some redemption for him!! when he starts noticing you acting funny or a little down around him, he realizes it's his doing and he has a lot of guilt & regret about how he acted.

he'll get you a plainer looking doll, or get Vin's help to sew something up for ya. He leaves it on your side of the bed and doesn't say a word about it . . . neither should you. Be appreciative of what he did, just don't tell him that. He'll just pretend he had nothing to do with it, and get all flustered.

Bo might be kind of a dick to you about it, but if anyone that's NOT him does it?? if someone's passing by and they think they just get free range on the language they use?? oh, hell no!

he has a few tricks up his sleeves, I promise <3 (these may, or may not, include more torturous methods when dealing with guests . . .)

Lester thinks it's mighty sweet!! an' he ain't got much to judge, he knows he's a lil weird. he don't mind ur weirdness tho <33

creativity seems to run in the family, cause sometimes he'll take the animals off the road 'n he likes to skin em and make lil furs out of em. not so much taxidermy . . . he ain't got the patience for that

and i bet he would ADORE to make ya a lil somethin from those critters <3

what's better than seeing your lover all safe and cozy, cuddled up with somethin-- than when that somethin is one of your own creations??

yeah ... nothings really better than that, huh? <3

Vincent's not one to judge on such a small thing. he's spent so much time feeling like the odd one out, for mannerisms and facial deformities . . . and you're so sweet and kind hun . . .

he'd hate to upset ya, especially over something so insignificant.

it brightens his day seeing you down in his studio space with him, while you happily watch him work, while holding a floppy-eared fuzzy pal close to ur arms <333

Randy Meeks

he thinks it's a little silly but mostly endearing <3

he won't poke fun at you . . . unlike certain Scream boys (cough cough Billy n Stu... cough cough)

randy loves doing little voice impressions, and my favorite concept is him playing around with ur stuffies and making them say silly things. or sometimes, since he's a bit of a romantic, but also awkward n nerdy he'd make them say things like "i love you" <3

Sidney Prescott

Tatum still has a ton of stuffies from when she was a kid, and some of her current faves are definitely ones that Stu have gotten for her

Sidney doesn't really sleep w/ any of her stuffies, but she does keep them out on her bed sometimes or on her dresser as like, decoration.

long story short -> she honestly gets it! sleeping with a stuffy is nice, and she wants you to sleep well <3 there is nothing wrong with ur stuffies <333

after the ghostface attacks!! she tends to be more closed off to other people, sort of weary, and isn't always good with contact/touch. the two of y'all's favorite way to sleep is in the same bed, next to each other, but cuddled up with ur comfort buddies instead of holding each other :'3

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jaime-brienne-fic-exchange · 6 months

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Your enthusiasm continues to surprise and delight us!

For the fourth year, y'all wanted to close out the year with some lovely gifts to fellow fans. It’s a low-key, inclusive exchange meant to celebrate our favourite knights! All fanworks are welcomed (and encouraged!)–art, fic, fanvids, any creative endevour!

Already convinced? Sign up here!

Need more information? Read on!

Important Dates

Signups: November 23rd - November 30th Assignments out: December 1st Posting Window: December 21st - January 1st Stocking Stuffer Prompts Released: December 21st

Rules

This is a low stress exchange, and the rules are simple:

1. You create one (1) fanwork, and receive one (1) fanwork. 2. If you can't complete your gift on time, please let us know as soon as you do! Life happens, but the sooner we know the easier it is to deal with. 3. For recipients: no specific, detailed scenario prompts, only a list of general likes/tropes/vibes and your squicks and triggers. For gifters, we encourage you to sleuth out any questions for your prompter yourself (anonymous tumblr asks are a great option!). If you cannot, reach out to us and we'll do our best to get back to you. 4. Have fun! This is a short period exchange, meant to round out the year with a little extra joy. You don't need to paint the Mona Lisa or write the next Westerosi novel, we promise.

FAQ

1. Who can participate? Anyone! Artists, writers, vidders, poets, interpretive dancers are all welcome! 2. What do I need to do? When you sign up, you’ll provide three general ideas of what you like--tropes, vibes, nothing too specific!--for your creator to work from. Once sign ups close, you’ll be assigned someone and you’ll need to create a fanwork for them based off the information they provided. It could be a short fic, a piece of art, a poem, a vid, an interpretive dance, whatever you like! There is no minimum requirements, but as a rough guideline, think of it as something that would brighten your day if you received it. 3. When do sign-ups open? Signups run from November 23rd to November 30th. It's a short signup period, so make sure you don't miss it! 4. What if I can't finish something in time? Please send us an email at [email protected] to let me know and we'll do what we can to either let your recipient know you'll be a little late, or organise someone else to backfill. 5. Does my fanwork have to be festive themed? Definitely not. You'll just be publishing it, or posting it, or uploading it in between December 21st and January 1st. 6. Will my prompts be private? No, they will be released to everyone on the 21st to allow for the Stocking Stuffers. This will be open for anyone to contribute to, not just the people who participate in the main exchange. 7. When is the posting window again? Between December 21 and January 1.

Important Notes:

You must have an AO3 account to participate. If you do not have an AO3 account, you can either request one via the AO3 website or email us at [email protected]

If you have any questions, please email us at [email protected]. This will be a tight turnaround for signups–about a week–so get in quick if you’re interested!

Signups close end of day November 30th!

#jaime x brienne #braime #brienne of tarth #jaime lannister #game of thrones #asoiaf #jaime x brienne festive fest

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ellie-24 · 1 year

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That's alright

A little something based on this prompt:

"Do you mind? I came here to get away from other people."

Word count: 2.6 k

Thanks @whositmcwhatsit for the amazing idea and thanks @thatbanditqueen for the first awesome prompt!!! It was really fun writing this!! Ofc it had to be about Elvis, I can't help myself lol. I'm extited to see what y'all came up with!

@be-my-ally @vintageshanny @missmaywemeetagain @from-memphis-with-love

Shreveport, October 16 1954

She took a shuddering breath and smoothed down the wrinkles in her dress when she saw the familiar auditorium from across the street. Her fingers trembled when she reached up to pin back a single blonde curl that had espaced her fancy updo. It had come loose on the walk here, though it can hardly be described as a walk. It was more like a run and she was in fact a bit out of breath as she stood on the sidewalk, trying to gather her wits again. Next to her was a big glass window and she turned towards it, inspecting herself. The pastel pink sunday dress she wore under her white coat was the prettiest she owned and combined with the now fixed updo her mother had helped her with, she felt truly beautiful. With a look of concentration on her usually very soft features she leaned forward and carefully pinched her cheeks and lips. Proper rouge and lipstick weren't allowed in the house, so this would have to do for now. Her best friend at school proposed to lend her some of the makeup she secretly owned, but she wasn't as bold as her. No, she wouldn't do such a vulgar thing.

She pulled her coat tighter over her body, the fresh autumn wind making her shiver. But the funny feeling in her stomach certainly wasn't caused by the dropping temperatures. Her mind drifted to the boy from school. The boy with the brown eyes she had fancied for a very long time now. The funny feeling in her stomach got more intense as she remembered how he asked her earlier this week if she would accompany him to the Hayride. Stunned wasn't enough to describe what she felt in that moment. Snippets of the conversation remain, like when she hastily agreed and ran away, but the rest was a blur. He wanted to meet her in front of the auditorium, but she couldn't spot him among the crowd that had already gathered at the entrance. She looked down at the delicate gold watch around her wrist. She was almost half an hour early. She huffed a breath, her nerves threatening to get the better of her and she decided to walk around the building, eager to get rid of some of this nervous energy as well as some silence.

As she rounded the building to escape the loud chatter of the people in the crowd she eventually reached a door that was certainly the back entrance to the auditorium. She bit her lip and looked around, no one else was to be seen. Pacing around didn't help much either, the clicking of her low heels on the pavement suddenly too loud in her ears. She eyed the stairs at the entrance and walked up to them. She reached down to feel if they were dry and promptly sat down, her knee jiggling up and down. Just when she considered getting up and pacing around again the door behind her openened and a very strange looking young man stormed out, descending the stairs so fast that she quickly scooted over and winced, afraid he'd either run her over or fall onto her.

"Oh, excuse me! Almost didn't see you there." he exclaimed when he passed her, now standing in front of her. His voice had a nice ring to it and it felt almost familiar.

She squinted up to him, taking in his very peculiar appearance, too stunned to answer. His greased back hair was the darkest raven black she's ever seen. One single curl rested between his furrowed eyebows and she fought the urge to reach out and put it back in it's place. He slowly blinked at her with deep set, ocean blue eyes, his dark and long eyelashes fluttering over his cheek. Upon closer inspection she noticed that he must be wearing kohl, making his eyes even more expressive. The pink suit he wore was a stark contrast, almost matching her own dress and she was sure she's never seen someone like him before. It was strangely appealing.

She shook her head and finally managed to get herself together again. "Oh, that's alright. I don't know what I'm doing sitting on the stairs." she muttered, a flustered laugh escaping her. She leaned forward to get up, but he stopped her.

"Nah, you're good. Actually, do you mind?" he gestured to the spot next to her with a trembling hand. "I-I came here to get away from o-other people." His eyes nervously flickered towards the door he just stormed out of.

She hesitantly nodded at him and he plopped down beside her. "That's something we have in common." she remarked with a sigh.

He turned to her and smiled, his lip curling charmingly. "That so?"

She looked down with a half smile and picked at her nails, his gaze making her even more nervous.

"Where'd you even come from?" she asked and turned her head, gesturing behind her.

"Uh.. you know, I'm a singer. Or, I try to at least. Got a gig here tonight. E-Everybody is going crazy in there, so I needed to get some air."

"Really? You aren't pulling my leg now are you?"

"I wish I were, sweetie. It's really a big thing." he said and nervously combed back some of his hair with his hand, reminding her of her own self barely five minutes earlier in that glass window. She carefully eyed him, not sure if he wanted her to reassure him or distract him.

"You must be exited!" she offered with a smile.

"I sure am." he agreed and his knee started to bounce up and down as well, matching hers. He rubbed his palm along his thigh, trying to force it to be still.

She leaned back, wanting to appear casual. "Standing there on that stage all by yourself. You're very brave."

He huffed a laugh. "Thank god I'm not alone, sweetie. I'm with my band." he nodded, as if reassuring himself.

Her eyebrows raised in surprise. "A band, I'm impressed. Do I know anything from you?" she encouraged.

"Uh I don't know... What's up with you? You a singer as well? You look like it." he inquired, quickly changing the topic of the conversation.

"Good god, no. I'm uh... hiding." she muttered timidly, her face scrunching up in embarassment.

"What's a pretty gal like you hiding from?" he smirked, his finger gently brushing over her cheek.

His boldness shocked her, but drew her in at the same time. "Oh, nothing really. It's silly." she waved away.

"You can tell me anything, sweetie. I'm dying to know." he insisted and leaned forward, way closer than it was proper. She spotted a few acne scars on his face and neck, but she found they didn't affect her impression that he was breathtakingly beautiful.

She took a deep breath. "I just... I'm meeting up with this boy from school here. Uhm, you probably don't care about this."

"This your first real date, sweetie?" he assumed while raising one eyebrow.

"...Yes." she admitted.

His lip curled again and she felt her heart rate pick up. "You don't hafta worry about nothing. That guy is one lucky fella."

She looked down, inspecting her nails again. "I'm just scared that I don't know what to do. I don't want to make a fool out of myself."

"How old are you?" he inquired suddenly.

"Sixteen."

"Cute."

"You?"

"Nineteen."

She nodded. "Mhm.. so uhm... you do that often? Dating I mean." she tried to as sound nonchalant as possible and carefully avoided his gaze.

He smirked, his eyes twinkling with mischief. "Why do you wanna know?"

"Do you... you know..." she trailed off, not daring to say it out loud.

"Have you ever been kissed, sweetie?" he asked, searching her eyes.

She slowly shook her head.

He licked his lips, the motion making her swallow hard, before giving her a stern look. "You know, the first kiss is something real special."

She nodded and waited for him to continue.

"I remember my first kiss, it was clumsy and I didn't really know what to do. Made me feel like an idiot." he mused, carefully watching her reaction from the corner of his eye.

She nibbled at her bottom lip, unaware of his unwavering gaze. He seemed to know what he was talking about. Seemed more... experienced. And she did catch herself wondering if his lips would feel as soft and plush as they looked.

"Could you... I mean would you... uh that's sounds mad, but would you show me?" She was aware that she didn't know him and probably would never see him again, but it was exactly that that made it feel right. The adrenaline and exitement she felt right now was different, it would be her secret, shared with this handsome stranger. No one would have to know, she wouldn't even tell her best friend.

"What do you want me to show you, sweetie?" he frowned and she wasn't sure if he was actually confused or just a really good actor.

"You know... how to... kiss someone." she managed to get out, her cheeks flushed.

"You want me to show you?"

"Only if you want to of course." she mumbled, getting the impression that he didn't want to kiss her. Did he maybe think she was crazy?

"No, no, sweetie. I-I'd like that. But are ya really sure?"

She felt her heartbeat pick up once more. "I am."

He grinned and snaked his arms around her waist, pulling her closer to him. She couldn't stop the little gasp that escaped her when she felt his strong hands pressing into her flesh and looked up, their noses now almost touching.

"Don't be scared, little one." he spoke in a soft tone.

"I'm not." she merely whispered, not trusting her own voice right now.

"I'll be gentle with ya. Just close your eyes."

She tried to control the butterflies she felt in her stomach, tried to ignore the tremor in her whole body and tried to remember how to actually breathe. She eventually closed her eyes and waited, not daring to move one inch. He came closer, she could feel his hot breath ghosting along her lips and squeezed her eyes shut.

Finally his velvety mouth brushed over hers and for a moment she was too stunned to respond. She briefly tought about the boy from school and asked herself if his lips would be as soft as the ones from the raven haired stranger next to her. There was no denying that it felt good to be that close to him and after a few seconds, her cheeks burning, she started to kiss him back by tentitavely moving her lips against his. She felt him smiling against her and added more pressure. All of the sudden she felt a bit dizzy, not in the way she felt when she went on a carousel, but in a different, forbidden way. She didn't recall ever feeling something like this, something so consuming and dare she say... addicting. After what felt like hours, or seconds, she wasn't quite sure, she pulled away from his mouth. There was a tightness in her chest and after being parted from him her mind started functioning again, telling her to breathe. She took a deep breath and looked into his twinkling eyes, his grin almost looking a bit smug. For a moment they just stared at each other until he broke the silence.

"Lordy, that was beautiful, sweetie." he murmured and pressed his forehead against hers.

"You really think so?" she smiled, a bit dazed still.

He bit his lip and smirked at her. "Yeah. Ya got the cutest, softest little lips ever." It felt flattering to hear this from him. He obviously knew what he was doing and she looked down with a bashful smile, suddenly feeling very special.

"...B-But there's something else I'd like to show you i-if you want." he stuttered, his eyes almost pleading. How could she say no?

"S-sure."

He closed the gap between them again so fast she almost had no time to react. When she kissed him back, a bit more confident this time he did something she didn't expect. All of the sudden she felt his soft tongue prodding against her closed mouth and her eyes shot open, not really sure if it was supposed to be like that or not. But he didn't stop, in fact he got more insistant and soon she felt his tongue gliding past her lips into her mouth. He made a little sound in the back of his throat when she slowly touched the tip of his tongue with hers and tightened his grip on her waist, holding onto her like a lifeline. Despite still not really knowing what she was doing he seemed to like it. A lot. He continued exploring her mouth, his kissing becoming faster and more sloppier, teeth clanking and muffled breathing. When they broke apart again it was his turn to look a bit dazed, his eyes half lidded, his breathing heavy.

"...That felt really... good. I won't ever forget this." she whispered with a wide grin.

Elvis suddenly felt exhilerated and brave enough to go on stage, his nervousness now replaced with another feeling. For the one thing on his mind now was this pretty girl thinking of him whenever she kissed another. She was his now, wether she was yet aware of it or not. He pulled her even closer to him. "Me neither, little. You're really something." he stated softly with a tender kiss to her cheek, entirely different from the one they'd just shared. It was sweet, gentle and she felt her heart flutter wildly in her ribcage in response.

"...I should get going." she whispered suddenly and moved away from him, making him shudder.

"D-Do you have to?" he asked with big eyes as he fiddled around with his hands.

"Yes!" she laughed. "And you should go back as well. We both have places to be." She thought back to those brown eyes probably waiting for her by now. She also wondered if they could pierce like the intense blue ones observing her right now.

He hummed with a little pout.

"... And if you're really a singer, I suppose we'll see each other in a few minutes anyway."

"You'll see me, sweetie. I won't see you." he argued, looking at her through his dark lashes.

She sighed and squeezed his hand with an encouraging smile. "I suppose that's true... I really wish you good luck though. I'll certainly cheer you on."

How he wanted to wish her good luck as well with her endeavour. But he couldn't. He didn't wish her good luck. Not really. "I'll count on you, sweetie." he managed to get out, thankfully she didn't notice that his teeth were clenched.

She smiled and jumped up from the stairs in a very unladylike manner, the motion causing that infuriating curl to come undone again from her updo. She huffed in annoyance and reached up with a grimace, attempting to pin it back in place blindly.

He couldn't stop the little smile forming at her antics. "Sweetie, leave it like that. It looks so pretty on ya." he then suddenly interjected after watching her for a few seconds, making her stop in her tracks.

She blinked at him. "...Are you sure? It doesn't look rude?" she asked without thinking, suddenly worried she might have offended him as she eyed the single lock that had come loose from his perfect pompadour. He never fixed it.

He shook his head, decidedly. "Nah, fits you more like this, little one. You're a real stunner, I'll tell ya."

She felt her cheeks warming up again. "Oh well, okay, if you say so. Thank you so much!" she grinned and turned on her heel making her way back towards the main entrance to meet her date.

"That's alright!" he shouted after her with a smile. That's where it suddenly hit her like a ton of bricks. Why his voice seemed familiar. It was the same voice she heard again and again on the radio for the last few weeks.

..................................................................................

#elvis presley #elvis #elvis 2022 #elvis movie #elvis presley x reader #elvis x reader #elvis x oc #elvis fanfiction #ellie writes #writing prompt game

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amazingmsme · 8 months

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You're The Mouse

AN: I was having a hard time wondering just what I wanted to do for the chase prompt, and then I met Distortion Michael & the rest is history! This was an absolute blast of a fic to write, definitely one of the longer ones you'll see this month. I already miss Tim a lot so he gets a nice lil spotlight too. Posting this at 2am because I'm excited & the one time I did that it blew up. Hope y'all enjoy day 6!

It had been a long, tiring day with some rather harrowing statements he had to hear and record himself. His back ached from hunching over the desk for hours without a good break, and he felt tired down to his bones. Even his eyes felt tired, burning from the strain of staring at small font and lack of blinking. He couldn't wait to get home and crash in the couch. It was only Wednesday, which for him didn't bode well for the rest of the week.

He should've noticed the static. That fuzzy ringing in his ears that started out quiet, only to grow in intensity. If his mind wasn't so frazzled, he would've noticed that's not his usual office door.

A chill ran down his spine when he stepped through the doorway and found himself deep in the tunnels.

"Oh God," he muttered to himself, backing up and turning to run, but it was too late. The door was gone, and he ran straight into Michael's arms. Though he didn't remain there for long.

He screamed and started trashing, managing to elbow him in the stomach and stomp on his foot. Temporarily hurt, he recoiled enough for his grip to slip so Jon could free himself. He whipped around to face him once he felt there was a suitable distance between them. Although with Michael, he wasn't sure there even was such a thing.

"What the hell do you want now?" he growled, hands gripping the strap of his messenger bag tightly. Michael let out an echoing, disorienting chuckle.

"Oh archivist, I simply want some fun."

That was quite possible one of the worst things he could've said, at least in Jon's opinion. Because when Michael had fun, people usually ended up dead or insane, or in a cruel twist of fate, both.

"Maybe you should pick up a hobby, like drawing or golfing, or literally anything that involves leaving all of us alone," he suggested, though it felt more like a plea once it left his tongue. Michael let out a shrill giggle.

"You just don't get it, do you?" he asked with a tilt of his head. His wide smile was unnerving. "You're my favorite little toy."

Jonathan's face scrunched up in disgust as he looked him up and down, clearly not amused by his statement.

"Oh get your mind out of the gutter archivist, I didn't mean it like that," he scolded. "It's more like... when you were a child and you'd build fantastic cities out of blocks just so you could watch their destruction at your own hands." He took a step closer. "I'm just looking for a bit of fun amidst the chaos."

His held his hand out in front of him, reaching for Jon. His eyes widened in fear, stumbling backwards. Michael's hand distorted and stretched before his very eyes, long fingers growing in the darkness of the tunnels. Jon was already halfway down the hall.

Michael loved the thrill of the chase. He loved hearing the rapid thud of a racing heart, the panicked gasps for air as they ran for an escape. They were all the same, really, if he thought about it. Just a mindless chase through endless, winding halls that always ended victoriously. (For him, at least.)

Jon was frantic. Why now, of all days? He was so ready to walk through his front door, kick off his shoes and enjoy a nice hot frozen meal on his couch. It really was the least he could ask for, and yet, he couldn't even have that. The only saving grace was the fact that he was in the archive tunnels instead of whatever weird pocket dimension the Distortion liked to trap people in. His lungs ached as his feet pounded against the hard, dirt floor, eyes searching through the dark for something, anything to register with him and give him a clue as to his whereabouts, but it all looked the same.

"Joooon, come out come out wherever you are!" the voice was shrill and empty, the words hollowed out and stuffed to the brim with static. It echoed through the tunnels, and Jon couldn't tell where it came from, but the echo made it sound so fucking close and that sent him into a panic.

He ran ahead, ducking in a small alcove to catch his breath. He felt like he'd put a sufficient distance between them to be safe enough to do so. He gulped down air until the burn in his lungs subsided. He raised two fingers to his neck, checking his racing pulse and willed himself to calm down. Every reaction was just giving Michael exactly what he wants.

He needed to conserve his energy, move slower to remain quiet and keep his wits about him. He was pretty sure he had his bearings now, which was a plus. But if he really was where he thought he was, then they were deep in the underground maze. It took the better part of 30 minutes to even get to this point in the tunnels!

At least he knew where he was, he told himself, forcing himself to focus on the bright side of things. He walked at a brisk pace, a borderline jog really. He wanted to get out of here quickly, but he didn't want to give Michael the satisfaction of causing him to panic.

"Believe it or not, I don't want to hurt you, archivist. I simply want to have some simple, haaarmless funnn together, ehehehehehe!" His voice went shrill and warbly and distorted towards the end of his unnerving giggle so much that it became almost inaudible. And fuck, if it didn't make Jon run.

Could you blame him though? There was no way that- that thing actually meant what it said. It was absolutely going to hurt him. And it was probably going to do so in the most terrible ways imaginable.

Jon hated the deep, guttural scream that ripped from his throat when he rounded a corner and came face to face with the blonde monster.

His feet scrambled on the packed dirt and he was already turning around, but arms that were too long wrapped around him from behind, dragging him back as they retracted to a more normal length. He was screaming and kicking the air, arms fighting to free themselves.

"Shh shh shhhh, would you relax? What part of I don't want to hurt you did you not understand?" he chastised, holding a single finger to Jon's lips to quiet him. He went silent out of shock more than actual compliance.

"I don't trust you as far as I can throw you. Now what do you really want?" Jon demanded, mustering enough confidence to glare him down. Michael just laughed.

"Like I said, I'm just looking for some fun. You humans aren't the only ones who get bored you know," he said condescendingly. Jon remained silent.

"I tend to- peak in, from time to time, just to see how my favorite sheeple are holding up," he mused, causing Jon to visibly cringe and roll his eyes.

"Good to know there's actual reason behind always feeling like I'm being watched," he grumbled.

"Oh no, I'm not the only one, but trust me, I'm your favorite."

"Quite the opposite."

"Well, I will be your favorite," he winked and giggled to himself. "But last week, I noticed you playing with your friends. You looked soooo happy then... I'd like to make you happy like that too, Jon."

What a nice sentiment from such a not nice entity, not to mention he had no clue what he was talking about. "Bullshit, you don't want to make me happy, you want to ruin my life!" he snapped, still continuing his struggle.

"Oh, but can't I do both? Life ruining is such a long process, and I'd really like to hear that laugh in person."

Realization dawned on him the same time terror wracked his body, body going stiff and eyes bugging out. Michael cocked his head, that unnaturally large smile forming into a curious pout.

"Why archivist, if I didn't know better I'd say you look frightened," he cooed. "There's no need for that. You didn't have that look when Martin snuck up on you in the break room," he pointed out.

"You keep his name out your fucking mouth," Jon growled, and in a moment he was pressing into the Distortion's space. He had grabbed him by the shirt collar and jerked him so hard his neck snapped at the momentum, their noses almost touching. A few flecks of spit even landed on Michael's cheek from the force of Jon's rage. It genuinely took him aback before a wicked grin took over.

"Your boy toy's off limits, lesson learned."

"He's not my-" Jon cut himself off, seeing no use in arguing with him. His eyes were closed and he pressed a free hand to his temple. "Look. You said you wanted your sick fun, but all you've done since capturing me is talk. I'm a smart man, I know I can't escape this. But I'm fucking tired, and I just wanna go home, so the sooner you shut up and get on with it, the better."

There was a beat of silence, and then a shit eating grin followed by, "If you wanted me to tickle you already, you could've just said so."

"No, I want to go home you assho-" Jon cut off his own rambling mid sentence as Michael started fluttering his fingers over his sides, prompting him to clamp his mouth shut. He rolled his eyes.

"I'm doing this so I can hear that cute, funny laugh of yours archivist! The longer you hold out the longer I have to tickle tickle tickle you!" his taunt echoed off the walls. Jon flushed and hid his face in his hands.

"Y-you're sohoho fucking weheheird!" His voice pitched higher towards the end of his sentence when Michael tweaked his sides before drilling in his thumb. He tossed his head back with a discordant cackle of his own, seemingly amused by the response.

"Is that really the best insult you can come up with? How adorably pathetic!" he cooed, reaching around with his other hand to knead his belly. Jon writhed in his grip, snickering and squealing with no way to escape.

"Shut up or Ihihi'll- nohoho wahahait!" the threat died on his tongue, melting into frantic giggles. He kicked his feet in the air and gently shoved at the offending tickly hands, but to no avail. He slumped in his hold, leaning back over his arm and covered his face with his hands.

"Oh? And what exactly am I waiting for?" Michael asked, cocking his head. The way he was so calm while picking Jon apart made it all the more maddening. Those long, spindly fingers were able to work their way into every tickle spot they could find, and it was perhaps the most horrendous thing he's ever felt in his life.

"I-Ihihi dohon't knohohow!" he whined, yelping when Michael pinched and prodded at his soft tummy. "Just shuhut up!"

"Hm, I don't think I will. Especially if it gets you all worked up like that," he taunted. Ironically, he started tracing a large spiral over his stomach, closing in on his bellybutton. Jon snorted, covering his face with one hand while trying to push Michael away with the other.

"Ohoho you've gotta behehe johoking," Jon groaned through his giddy laughter, rolling his eyes.

"What? It's my signature, I simply have to," he said casually, closing in on the center of his stomach. Jon's deep chuckles morphed until they were high pitched and bubbly. He was blushing like a fool behind his hand, shrieking and wiggling in Michael's arms all the while.

~~~

Tim had the worst luck. He had been halfway home when he realized he'd not only left his wallet, but his keys as well, at the institute. He backtracked, grumbling to himself the whole time.

He hated nothing more than being alone in the archives. It was bad enough being there during the day surrounded by people, but at night when those endless halls and rooms were empty? It might as well be straight out of a horror game.

He was trying to get to his office as fast as possible, but slowed as he neared Jon's office. The light was off, and he couldn't hear talking, sure, but the door was left open. Jon never left his door open. The sight filled Tim with dread.

"Boss? You still here?" he called out, but received no answer. He walked to the door and peeked inside, greeted only by a dark and empty room.

Maybe he just forgot to shut the door when he left, he tried to reason with himself. But none of them were that lucky, especially not Jon. Still, he went back to retrieve his things and be on his way.

Execpt that's when he heard it.

Muffled screaming. Coming from below.

Tim froze, unsure if what he was hearing was true. He bent down, putting his ear to the floor and listened.

He could just make it out.

"Please, no, have mercyyyyy!"

That was someone pleading for their life. That was Jon pleading for his life... He raced to the trapped doors.

He had the sickening feeling that he'd walk in on Elias standing over Jon's body, having killed him deep within the tunnels just as he did Gertrude. Well not today.

He descended into the tunnels, pausing when he heard frantic, hysterical screams echoing down the halls, but he could swear it sounded like... laughter. And now that he was within the tunnels, he could hear that it was undeniably Jon's.

Just what the hell was going on?

~~~

Jon knew he was going to die here, in these godforsaken tunnels. He had no way of stopping this, and Michael proved to be just as relentless now as he's ever been. And those long fucking fingers of his were absolute torture. Just one hand was big enough to vibrate over his entire stomach and still wrap around to dig into his sides and scribble at the base of his spine. Jon was effectively in hysterics, shrieking and giggling with no end in sight.

He should hate this. Should hate that it was Michael of all people doing this to him, but an overwhelming part of him was relieved that he wasn't subjected to legitimate torture. A more foolish part of him thought that maybe Michael was warming up to them: that maybe he wasn't so downright malicious after all.

And then he felt sharp nails scratching behind both his ears, and that thought was gone as soon as it had arrived. If he hadn't been cackling so loud, perhaps they would've heard Tim calling out for Jon, telling him to just hold on, he'll be right there.

"What the bloody hell are you doing?"

If Jon hadn't been so preoccupied, he'd have jumped and shrieked in fright, though he was shrieking for an entirely different reason at the moment. Michael on the other hand, did startle, having been caught red handed. He almost seemed embarrassed, and dropped him like a sack of potatoes. Jon landed flat on his back, the breath being knocked out of his already breathless lungs. Tim was frozen in place, taking in the scene. He was knocked out of his daze when he saw Jon hit the ground, and he immediately rushed over to help him up.

Jon was gasping and wheezing, face red and hair messy, but he still had that rare, genuine smile on his face.

"Sorry you had to see that, I had thought the archives was empty," Michael said in lieu of an explanation.

"Yeah, it was. Good thing I had to come back," Tim snapped. Michael rolled his eyes.

"Oh please, he's perfectly fine. I didn't harm a single hair on his head."

"You fucking dropped me!"

Michael let out a shrill chuckle. "And that was a complete accident! But you can't really blame me for wanting to have my own fun with you. Especially after everyone else made it look like so much fun."

"Hey, you stay away from him! Only we're allowed to torture Jon like that!" Tim scolded weakly, but it was all he could think to say. Which just made him feel stupid when Michael continued to laugh at them.

"Oh, so you're the only ones who can toy with the archivist, is that it?" he asked tauntingly, cocking his head. Tim opens his mouth to answer, but stops short. Jon is sitting curled in a ball, hiding his face in his knees.

"No, you've got it wrong. We do it because we care about him, and want him to be happy, even if it's short lived. You do it for your own sick kicks!" Tim accused. Jon's head snapped up when he admitted their reasoning for why they always seem to tickle him out of the blue. It brought a shy smile to his face as he recovered from the ordeal.

"... Well that's a rude assumption. I just wanted to see what all the fuss was about."

Tim snorted, "My point exactly." They were all quiet, the three of them engaged in a bit of a stalemate. "Aren't you going to show yourself the door?" he boldly prompted. Jon choked on his own spit in shock.

Michael's smile widened. "You know, I wasn't quite finished yet. And I'd hate for you to feel left out," he playfully threatened, and his limbs stretched ever so slightly as he spoke. Tim took a step back, eyes wide. Jon was just now making to stand, and pointed at him sternly.

"No." He stood up and dusted himself off, glasses askew on his face. He straightened them and cleared his throat. "Haven't you had enough? You leave him, and everyone else alone." And just because he knows better than to trust Michael, added, "That includes me too."

"I'll think about it. It'd be easier if you weren't so fun to tickle. Isn't that right Tim?" Michael asked, even winking at the pair. Jon blushed and turned away, and Tim failed to fight back a smile.

"Heh. Right." He shook himself out of it, glaring at Michael as he stood by Jon protectively. "B-but you just mind your business."

"Ha! Unlikely, diet archivist."

"Hey!" Tim snapped at the insulted and Jon stifled an amused snicker. He was just about to give him a piece of his mind when Michael opened a door that hadn't been there a second ago, standing in the doorway.

"Until we meet again," he waved at them, closing the door behind him, leaving them stunned and alone.

Now that Michael was gone, Tim turned to Jon with a teasing smirk. "You okay?"

"Y-yeah, I'll be fine. I'm honestly... more confused than anything." Tim barked out a laugh and patted his shoulder.

"You and me both."

They began their trek out of the tunnels, walking side by side quietly until Tim broke the silence.

"So, what's it like being tickled senseless by the Distortion?" he asked in a teasing tone. Jon flushed and shot a glare his way, but he had that happy, sheepish grin plastered on his fast, just like every other time they wrecked him.

"Oh, should I have let you find out for yourself?" Jon quipped to mask his own embarrassment.

Tim looked down with a faint blush. "Fair point." A beat, and then, "You know we have to tell the others, right?"

Jon choked on his own spit, and Tim stopped walking to give him a moment. He looked at him expectantly, while Jon looked at him with a floored look.

"Are you joking?" he asked.

"As much as I wish I were, no." The shit eating grin on his face said otherwise. "You heard what that thing said. We're all fair game in his eyes." Jon gave a noncommittal hum. "They deserve a bit of a warning, don't you think?" It was true, but he didn't have to be so damn smug about it.

"Yes," Jon begrudgingly agreed through a growl.

"Think it might be best if you made a statement. You know, so we have an accurate account for the record."

Jon groaned and hid behind his hair. "I would literally rather die." Tim barked out a laugh and threw an arm over his shoulders.

"Always with the dramatics! So you're saying you'd rather tell them in person? Look them in the eyes and admit how I saved you-"

"Don't-"

"From the big bad ti-"

Jon didn't think he'd ever been so embarrassed. "Stop!"

"The big bad tickle monster named Michael!" Tim rushed out in one breath, laughing at the flustered squeak he made as he marched ahead. It took him no time at all to catch up, thanks to his long legs. "Oh come on, you know it's funny!"

Jon huffed, unable to hide his lingering smile. "Only because it wasn't you, asshole."

They continued their playful banter back and forth, unaware of the tape recorder that had appeared in Jon's pocket the moment he entered the tunnels, listening in and capturing every word.

~~~

Tim was relieved when he made it back home, slipping his key in the door and stepping inside. Strange, how he didn't seem to notice the change from handle to doorknob.

His eyes flew open when he was met with the sight of an endless, shifting corridor. He felt sick. A chill ran down his spine, his ears were ringing, his head filled with static and he stumbled in an attempt to get his bearings. There was a sinking feeling in his gut, and he felt so trapped.

Michael walked out from the nothingness, grin much too wide for his face. Tim hugged his arms to his body and stepped back, fighting an involuntary smile tugging at his lips.

"Y-you stay back! I'll fuck you up!" Tim cried, bravely putting his hands up, balled into fists and ready to swing. Michael laughed, and it was a sound that unsettled Tim to his very core. He held his hands up, and Tim couldn't help but flinch at the movement.

"Believe it or not, I'm not here to torture you. I'll save that for a rainy day," he added, chuckling at his own joke. Tim lowered his arms, staring at him skeptically.

"Okaaaay. So what the hell are you doing in my home?"

"But I brought you to my home," he corrected, and that wide grin turned just a tad condescending. Tim narrowed his eyes and set his jaw.

"Yeah, through my front door!" he argued before sighing in defeat, pinching the bride of his nose. "So what do you want?"

"I wanted to give you something." Tim perked up, looking at him in shock. He jumped and yelped when Michael was standing right in front of him. He held out the tape recorder.

"A little... souvenir from earlier. I doubt Sasha and Martin will believe you without proof." He placed the tape in Tim's hand, leaving him dumbstruck. "And I really have a hard time believing Jon will corroborate your story, don't you?"

Tim didn't know what to say. "Um... thank you?"

Michael winked at him. "You're welcome." And because he couldn't help himself, he skittered his fingers over his belly. Tim jerked back with a surprised laugh, a blush and a growing look of fear on his face.

"Relax. Like I said, rainy day."

He gave him a small wave and opened a door off to the side and left. Everything melted into his flat, and he was safe in the middle of his living room.

~~~

Jon walked into work the next day as if it were any other, eager to forget the events of last night. He went to the break room for a cup of coffee to start the day and walked in to see Sasha, Martin, and of course, Tim, huddled around a tape recorder. They all wore a look of concern. Well, except for Tim.

"What're you listening to?" he asked. Sasha and Martin jumped out of their skin when they heard his voice, whipping around to meet him. They looked rather guilty, but more concerning, they looked worried.

The next thing he knew, Martin was hugging him.

"I'm sorry, what's-" A voice on the tape interrupts him.

"Joooon, come out come out wherever you are!"

"I-I'm so sorry, we left you here alone, and Tim said Michael got you and-"

"Did he now?" he asked, cocking his head.

"Now Jon, is that any way to speak to your knight in shining armor?"

"Oh please, you're not my bloody knight." He spoke over the sound of his own erratic breathing and feet pounding against hard packed dirt.

"Were you even gonna tell us Michael attacked you?" Sasha asked, brows furrowed with worry. "Because I really doubt it."

Jon floundered for an answer, face going red. "Um- it- look, it really wasn't as serious as Tim undoubtedly made it seem." He glanced up at his smiling face and said, "Would he really be grinning like that if it was?"

Of course, as soon as they looked at him, he schooled his features into a serious expression, but they each caught a glimpse of a fading smirk.

"Okay what's... what's happening right now?" Martin asked, looking between the two.

"You wanna tell them yourself Jon? Or uh, let the tape do the talking for you?" he asked, holding up the tape.

"Shh shh shhhh, would you relax? What part of I don't want to hurt you did you not understand?"

"I don't trust you as far as I can throw you. Now what do you really want?"

Jon refused to meet his friends' gaze as he spoke over his previous conversation. "Look, I'm fine. He didn't hurt me, didn't psychologically scar me, the only thing damaged was my pride."

The tape played on in the background as Jon tried to explain himself. Michael's endless talk of having fun did nothing to calm Sasha and Martin's nerves for past-Jon. "I-I don't really know why he t- uuh, did what he did, but he seemed almost... friendly isn't exactly the word I'd use, maybe tame? Toned down?" That was about the time Michael mentioned the rest of them, and how they all "played" with Jon. A hesitant smile ghosted over Sasha's lips as she thought she knew what he was hinting at, and judging by Jon's reaction, she might be right, but there was just no way... Was there?

"Jon, did Michael-"

"Yes," he cut her off before she could finish the sentence. "Yeah, he uh, said you all made it look like fun, so he decided to try it out," he said, staring at the faded break room carpet.

"Wait, so it's our fault?" Martin asked, and Jon immediately felt guilty for saying it like that.

"No! God no, you guys are just trying to make me loosen up. Michael's just... morbidly curious."

"Right," Tim agreed, suddenly more serious. "He uh, told me he was waiting for a rainy day. So obviously, he has his sights set on all of us. Which is... unnerving to say the least." He locked eyes with Jon, a soft smile on his face. "So I'm not just doing this to fuck with you. But that is an excellent perk!" Jon couldn't help but chuckle. "But I thought everyone deserved a bit of a heads up. And maybe ease some worry while I'm at it." "Where'd you even get this?" Jon asked, pointing at the recorder just as his own bubbly giggles started pouring out.

"Michael gave it to me."

"Very funny." When Tim's expression didn't change, his jaw dropped, "You're serious."

"Where else would I have gotten it from?"

"Fair point."

A loud shriek followed by shrill cackling and snorts emitted from the tape. All heads snapped over to look at him with amused grins and fond expressions.

"Right. Well, I lived through this once already. No need to stick around for a second time," he said, cheeks burning from embarrassment. He paused in the door. "I'm never gonna hear the end of this, am I?"

"Not likely."

"Nope!"

"Absolutely not."

He gave a curt nod, lips pursed together. "Thought so."

#tickletober #tickletober 2023 #tickletober day 6 #michael shelley #michael distortion #jonathan sims #jon sims #tim stoker #martin blackwood #sasha james #the magnus archives #the magnus archives fic #tma #tma fic #tma tickle fic #ticklish!jon

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gamie99 · 3 months

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Hey, Skibidi Tumblr! Let's do another writing exercise!

I posted the first of these a few months ago on Christmas Day, and I absolutely loved all the responses you guys made! I had so much fun reading your additions, that I just had to do another one! In fact, I've had this exact prompt brewing in the back of my mind for forever! I think y'all will really like it!

(I wanted to add concept doodles to this prompt too, but I'm tired rn and can't be bothered lmao. Maybe I'll add them later ^^;)

In case you missed it, here's the gist!:

Under the cut, I've written a little scene with dialogue involving some of my OCs (in this case, Skip and Solo!). Anyone that wants to participate can reblog this post with their own characters, reacting and responding to the provided scenario!

If you aren't all that good at writing but still want to participate, then that's alright. Bullet points describing your character's thoughts or actions, or even drawing your OC's response are perfectly fine as well!

Happy writing, everybody! Can't wait to see what you'll make this time! :D

They had them cornered now.

In a dark and tiny alleyway in the heart of an old-world city, two traitors stood against the world. The first of them, a lanky Speakerman, dressed in a gray suit and a rather bold and colorful tie. The second, a scrawny Skibidi, with disheveled dark hair and old scars running down his cheek. The pair huddled together, backs pressed against old brick and mortar. The Skibidi tried his best to ignore the pounding pain in the side of his head, as fresh blood ran down the side of his face and dripped below into his slightly cracked bowl. The Speakerman stood in front of him, attempting to put on a brave face. He couldn't do it very well, unfortunately. Who wouldn't, if practically their entire faction was staring them down?

Blocking the entrance to the alley was a large squadron of Alliance agents - cameras, speakers, TVs and all. Speakermen gave the defector betrayed looks of shame, and Cameramen stood at attention with their guns ready - a few of them were broadcasting, the Speakerman noticed. A few TV Men stood amongst them, their arms crossed and their screens displaying disapproving stares. Their lone large unit stood furthest back with with his sub-screens outstretched, shining blinding spotlights down on the little runaways.

Police sirens suddenly sounded off, and the toilet looked up to see the law enforcement of his kind hovering in the air overhead. Mutants and striders stood on the rooftops, glaring down at him with sharpened fangs and glowing eyes that pierced through the dark. This was it. It was over. They were surrounded on all sides. They well and truly had no chance of escape, they were completely and utterly trapped.

Standing defensively in front of the injured Skibidi, the Speakerman reached into his pocket and shakily pulled out a combat knife, rusted and chipped from months of under-use. Holding it in front of him so amateurishly made him look almost freshly built, like he had just begun basic training.

"P-please!" the Speakerman pleaded, his voice waivering with his confidence . "Don't... don't hurt us! D-don't hurt him!"

#writing exercise #writing prompt #skibidi toilet #oc #skibidi toilet oc #skibidi oc #oops the prompt is slightly angsty dydfbj #couldn't help it lol #i had a vision #anyway i coulda written this better i feel #but i got it down. and that's what matters <3

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ablatheringblatherskite · 5 months

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A Raoulstine and Eristine fan recommend fanfics from our ships to each other!!

So @nerdywriter36 and I were talking about fanfics we liked and recommending some to each other, then, for fun and so we can both try experiencing it, we decided to directly recommend fics that are from the "opposite side"!! And for fun, since we can, we decided to exchange them publicly so that y'all can check them out too!! Here's my recommendations!!

Important note: we are both aware that some of the phics we recommend might put Raoul and Erik in a not so great light! It's bound to happen in phics for these ships 😅

Note: I don't know which of these authors have Tumblr aside from two, but if they do, please tell me so I can tag them!

This one is absolutely adorable and heartbreaking and but comforting in the best possible way 😭. This is actually the first phanfic I ever read! I LOVE the way they wrote Raoul SO MUCH, as well as his and Christine's relationship. It's really simple but REALLY sweet and THE WAY HE JUST WANTS TO PROTECT HER AND GETS SCARED WHEN SHE'S SCARED AND OH MY HEART I CANNOT HWHDHWHDHWHDHHWDHHWHD

Rating: General audiences

Summary:

She wasn’t being rational, she wasn’t thinking clearly, and he could tell, but what was there for him to do other than to reassure her that he would try his hardest to keep her safe? She trusted him enough to want to marry him, so he had to be doing something right, but he didn’t feel like it was enough.

This is by my mutual @rumpletrumple and WHEN I TELL YOU THE PAIN THIS CAUSED MY ALREADY WOUNDED HEART??? ALL I WANTED TO DO WAS COLLAPSE ONTO THE FLOOR BREAK DOWN AND SOB 😭 so this is obviously a very angsty fic but it's SO GOOD 😭 IT'S SO SO GOOD AND MY HEART HURTS JUST THINKING ABOUT IT AGAIN AND I WUDJWJDJJWJR

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Summary:

Erik runs out of patience and lets his temper get the best of him, costing him the boy's life and Christine's pity.

Now THIS one... this one is a little spicy, I will admit, but it's not smut I promise. Obviously I don't normally read stuff like this 😅 but It's really short and I thought it really was cute and well written too 😭

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Summary:

Raoul laughed, "I'm afraid I never sought out that bit of 'education' when I was on shore leave."

This is a very good fic with a very good look at Christine and what she might've been feeling after Masquerade. "Themes of fear" according to the author 😭 and while there aren't as many Raoulstine bits, I thought I might as well include it 🥺

Rating: Teen And up Audiences

Summary:

Every time she thought of what had happened that night at the masquerade, she could feel his hands so close to her neck. He had been cold, and whatever kindness, even love, she had seen his eyes was gone—replaced only with cruel and bitter jealousy.

This one's from @textsfromthefifthbasement!

HURT/COMFORT MY BELOVED 😭 this one's also really short but it is EFFECTIVE. THE IMAGERY. AUGHWHDYHWHDHWHFHWHDHEHD I'M whhdhwhdhejfje *cries*.

Rating: General Audiences

Summary:

Christine's thoughts the morning after the final lair. Originally written in 2021 as part of the Touch Prompts on tumblr. Based on prompt #14, On a Bruise.

AND THAT'S ALL OF MY RECOMMENDATIONS!! if the version of the post you see doesn't have the reblog CHECK THE REBLOGS FOR EMILY'S REBLOG FOR HER SUGGESTIONS!! GNIGHT!!

#phantom of the opera #the phantom of the opera #poto #poto musical #phanfiction #phanfic #fic recs #nerdywriter #raoulstine #eristine #erikstine #r/c #e/c #raoul x christine #erik x christine

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missmaywemeetagain · 2 years

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Pink Scarf - PART 11 (Elvis/Austin!Elvis x Reader)

Character/Fandom: Elvis - Elvis (2022)

Requested: kinda

(Read more here--Pink Scarf Series Masterlist!)

Prompt: You are part of Elvis Presley's coveted inner circle, and the currently-disgruntled wife of one of the members of Elvis' famous entourage, the Memphis Mafia. After Elvis' dynamite first performance in Vegas, you find yourself in deep water when his magnetism finally gets to you after all these years. [ Fem!Reader ]

TW: SEXXX. ANGST. Cussing. Infidelity. Historical inaccuracies in the Vegas timeline. Priscilla doesn't exist in this timeline.

Rating: Explicit/Mature (NSFW, 18+, so minors Do NOT Interact) || Word Count: 4655

A/N: Well, the beginning of this is absolute filth, which y'all deserve after the roller coaster that was Part 10! But fear not, there is still plenty of angst to go around as our Reader begins to be confronted with all of her choices.

I so appreciate your patience cuz it took me longer than I wanted to get this one out. Life keeps getting in the way, and trust me, if all I could dive into was this, my ask box, and my EP obsession, I'd do only that! LOL

As always, to all my babies, honeys, and lil' mamas supporting me out there, your reactions, reblogs, messages, asks, and comments are definitely helping me power through some of these particularly gnarly chapters. This community is making me so happy, I can't even tell you. The asks are just so much fun and I'm so happy that I can bring a little joy (and lust) into your lives! This story (and EP) has taken over my heart and soul, so for those of you still with me, and to all the newcomers, I'm sending you all the love! And I promise there's more good stuff coming ahead, complete with more smut, angst, and tension.

If you feel so moved, please let me know what you think or how you're feeling (or send me asks)! I think I put everyone on the taglist who requested it, but please let me know if there are any issues or if I missed anyone.

I imagined this with Elvis in mind, but Austin!Elvis works here, too, whatever floats your boat!

Apologies in advance if there are any grammatical errors or TW that I didn't catch.

(I did start cross-posting Pink Scarf to my long-neglected AO3 account (which some of you already discovered!), so if you are so inclined, you can check it out over there, though it's not all updated yet!)

“Hey, baby,” Elvis purrs in your ear, wrapping his arms around you from behind, gazing at you in the bathroom mirror.

“Hi,” you reply. You can’t help but fall back into him, even though that voice in your head is screaming for you to stop this silliness before you get hurt. It’s just sex, you remind yourself. I can be with him if it’s just sex. He’s achingly beautiful in a way you have never seen him before, all tousled and sleepy, with none of the primping and preening that might accentuate his natural state. It’s just him existing, everything else stripped away.

It’s already late in the day, and you know you have to leave soon, but the thought fills you with dread, knowing the spell of this night will be over. You don’t know if you’ll ever have a night like this with him again. At least you aren’t heading back to Memphis as planned, though it might be better for everyone in the long run if you were. But despite your conflicted feelings about your relationship, you are still intrigued with the possibilities related to the job Elvis is offering you. I’m staying for that, you think, that and the amazing sex.

“I’m glad you stayed over last night. I like having you here when I wake up,” he says, squeezing you a little.

Your heart wants to leap out of your chest when he says things like that. “I like being here,” you say softly. In fact, I wish I could be here with you all the time, you think. But I can’t.

That thought makes you want to cry.

Elvis turns you around in his arms to face him, those heavy-lidded blue eyes still clouded with sleep. He kisses you, lips gentle at first, and you don’t even care that neither of you has brushed your teeth yet because you want everything, even the mundane things, with him. Even though your logical brain wants to keep you safe, the rest of you is spellbound by him.

His kisses become more insistent and you let them be, winding your arms around his neck, fingers playing in his mussed hair, willing reality to stay away just a little while longer. His large hands splay over the silk of the nightie you threw back on, and he pulls you into him, his tongue rolling over yours.

You’re not sure how it’s possible to be so attracted, so utterly drawn to a person. Somehow, he makes you want him even more than you already have. You’ve never been so satisfied (or had so many orgasms) in your life, yet you are still hungry for him. Unable to contain yourself, you sigh in his mouth.

And Elvis is so attuned to you that he knows that you want him and just how to pleasure you, in some ways you don’t even know yourself. Still naked, he moves his bare thigh between your legs, bracing you against the counter. His cool skin meets your warm, bare center, his dick resting soft but heavy on your thigh, and you bite your lip at the sensation. It’s like you aren’t yourself, the way you automatically and needily roll your hips, desperate for the friction he is providing you by just being there. You’d much rather be consumed by him than by the thoughts of all the ways you can’t have him.

You move slowly at first, letting your clit and pussy drag over him, back and forth, back and forth, working yourself up, until you feel the wetness begin to slide in between you. The feeling is delicious, and you can scarcely believe that you are so incredibly turned on just by riding his toned thigh.

“That’s it, honey. Take what you need,” his voice rumbles in your ear, the vibrations shooting down into your core and adding to the burning warmth rapidly growing in your belly. Elvis presses into you, hands on your hips, supporting you. You feel him harden against you as you continue moving on him, kissing his long neck and his scruffed jaw, and you begin to moan softly as your pleasure builds. You feel positively drunk on him, so completely in the moment that you forget everything else: your failing marriage, your recent questionable decision making, your love for Elvis, the fear and excitement of maybe, possibly finding a new purpose in life. Right now, Elvis is all there is.

“EP! Where are you?”

Jack’s voice rings out loud and clear from inside the suite.

Oh, fuck.

You choke, freezing, fear dousing over you like you’ve fallen through ice and into a frozen lake. Wide-eyed, you look at Elvis for help.

His dark eyebrows shoot up in surprise, but he is not frantic or panicked in the least. In fact, he looks more perturbed than anything, which completely confounds you since you are quite literally in the middle of fucking his damn thigh and your husband is now mere feet away.

“Jacky—I’m in the john, man, and it’s gonna be a bit, so make yourself comfortable out there,” Elvis finally calls out naturally. Guess he picked up a thing or two in Hollywood after all, you think.

You are caught between your arousal, your terror, and your wanting to laugh hysterically at the excuse, at the entire situation. You didn’t know you could feel all these things at once and you are overwhelmed, trapped. Your unsuspecting husband is right there in the other room. You’re cursing Jack for interrupting this moment and cursing yourself for being in this position.

“Tell him to go away!” you mouth at Elvis.

To your shock, he shakes his head, his eyes going dark. “I finish what I start, honey,” he says so low, only you can hear, while grinding his thigh into your heat.

Your mouth opens in shock. You have got to be kidding me. You’re not sure what he’s playing at, but the look on his face shows he is not at all joking. It’s dangerous, charged, possessive, almost spiteful. Jealous.

And it sends a thrill through you that you cannot even begin to explain.

Then he kisses you roughly as he continues grinding into you. You think there is no way in hell that you can do this, that you can be aroused with your husband in the other room, but whatever magical prowess Elvis somehow has over you has you questioning everything you thought you knew about yourself. Because, despite your protests, your body has a mind of its own and you start rolling your hips again.

And, god, does it feel good. So good, in fact, that you unconsciously start to moan a little, but before much gets out, Elvis’ long fingers are pushing into your mouth, stopping the sound.

“Gotta be good and quiet for me, mama,” he breathes in your ear. You respond by sucking on his fingers. He grunts quietly, approvingly. Slick arousal pools on his leg as you ride him. That coil in your belly tightens, despite the risk of the situation, or perhaps because of it, you don’t really know. All you know is Elvis makes you feel out of control in ways you never imagined, doing things you would never have dared to do, making you feel things you shouldn’t feel.

Elvis is possessed, devilish, in how he’s seducing you, obviously gaining pleasure from the situation at hand. He cannot seem to contain himself, tearing away from you just long enough to flip you around. You watch in the mirror as he lines himself up to your entrance and pushes into you, his hand covering your mouth to muffle your cry of pleasure at the sensation of him filling you.

Pulling you flush against his chest, his other hand winds to your clit, working it furiously. You are on your tiptoes as he thrusts into you again and again, watching in the mirror, his eyes fierce and determined to stake his claim on you. You’ve never seen him like this.

“Should I take you out there and fuck you right in front of his face, hmm? Show him how he doesn’t deserve you?” he hisses in your ear, looking into your eyes in the mirror. “Show him all the ways I can please you that he can’t?” He snaps his hips in just the right way, hitting that sensitive spot inside you.

Your eyes roll back at that, and you try to stay silent but it’s nearly too much. The heat in your belly is growing exponentially with every filthy word he is saying. You should be mortified by what you are doing, by what he is doing to you, with Jack so close by, but instead you are running headlong towards the edge.

Elvis is plowing into you, driven by jealously and possessiveness, watching you, watching in the mirror what he is doing to you, how he is owning you. Your moans are muffled by his hand but come out nonetheless.

“You want him to hear, baby? You want him to walk in and watch how you take me so good? Cuz that’s what gonna happen if you keep making those sounds, lil’ mama,” he whispers, his lip curling up in a sneer, eyes dark with lust and power.

And that pushes you over the edge. You clutch at the counter as your climax hits you hard and try not to scream out Elvis’ name as your walls flutter around him. You see black and red behind your eyes, writhing against him, completely at his mercy. And he has no mercy for you, not now. He wants to claim every bit of you.

He growls, bending you over the counter, reaching over to turn on the faucet to mask some of the noises he can’t help making. A man on a mission, he drives into you, watching, consumed. You feel his thrusts become uneven, knowing that he’s close. He stutters into you once, twice more before you feel him begin to pulse, but as he is cumming, he pulls out of you. Pumping his dick with his hand and biting his lip in fevered concentration, he pulls up your nightie and finishes on your ass. With surprise, you feel the thick, hot spurts land, and you know he is marking you as his own.

But he doesn’t stop there, no. His cum is dripping out of your pussy, dripping down your ass cheeks and onto your thighs as water pours noisily out of the faucet near your head. Using two long fingers, he pushes some of his arousal back into you and holds it there. Your mouth pops open in an O shape and you relish in the sensation of him filling you again, still sensitive from your climax.

“Fucking mine,” Elvis breathes out as he pushes his fingers deeper, looking you over with wild, dangerous eyes. His tanned, lean body lords over you like a vengeful god, awesome and terrible and beautiful all at the same time. A shiver runs through you, one of pleasure, disbelief, and apprehension. If you weren’t so shockingly aroused by everything he is doing and saying to you, you might be a little scared of the look in his eyes, but instead you are just relishing in the way he’s making you feel.

You can tell by that look that he is not done with you, not yet. He pulls his fingers out of you, turns off the faucet, and walks over to turn on the shower. You lift yourself off the counter, feeling him drip down your legs, watching him curiously. You feel like you are floating, untethered.

“Hey, Jacky, I’m gonna take a shower. You still good out there?” Elvis suddenly calls out. He grins at you like a Cheshire cat.

“Yeah, all good, EP!” you hear Jack yell back. His voice sends a knot into your stomach, but you have little time to dwell on it as Elvis kisses you hard, all teeth and tongue, his hands tangling and pulling in your hair. In your sexed out haze, all you can do is submit to him as he pulls your nightgown over your head and leads you into the large shower, continuing to kiss you.

The water is warm, running over your skin, as he begins to soap up both of you. His hands slip and slide over your body surprisingly gentle considering his state of mind. He plays as he washes, squeezing your breasts and tweaking your nipples, running his hand down your belly and through your folds, massaging your ass as he washes away the last evidence of your sex. You have to remember to stay quiet as heat rolls through your veins, as your wet, slippery body slides against his. It’s a wonder to you that the man can be so dominating yet also so caring at the same time. Just another thing to add to the list of the ways Elvis Presley is a conundrum.

You try to wash him, but he won’t let you. Instead, he washes himself, then pushes you back into the cold tile of the shower. His lips tickle your ear as he speaks low and quiet: “Gonna make you cum again, baby.” Then he runs his fingers through your still-swollen folds.

“I’m not sure I can,” you whimper quietly in his ear. You’re worried you are too spent, too overstimulated after a long night of sex, and while you’ve never been this aroused, your husband is still right outside the door. Your heart beats hard against your ribcage at the thought.

“Oh, I can do it,” he grins, full of ego and danger. The look alone sends another wave of pleasure through you and you nod, giving in, needing him like you’ve never needed anyone.

Elvis kisses his way down your wet body to his knees, lapping at your clit. You jump at the sensation, still sensitive from earlier. He kisses you there instead, lifting one of your legs over his shoulder to give him access to the place he wants to worship yet again, the place he took so wildly only minutes before.

He lathes his tongue flat over your folds and you squirm at the sensation, remembering you need to stay quiet. You hold fast to his shoulders as he licks you again then settles on your clit. He sucks and laps and kisses, using his tongue to coax you back to him, and god knows it’s working, even though you’re not sure how. He slides a finger into your wet heat, then two, then three, pumping into you, curling his fingers to drive you wild in the way only he knows how.

You are so sensitive, you are twitching and writhing under his ministrations. Your heart is throbbing fast in your ears, your breathing labored as you slap your own hand over your mouth in an effort to stay silent and not give yourself away. That heat in your belly is warm and rolling, not as intense as before but there all the same. He has learned fast in five days, already having memorized each way he can make your body sing for him.

Water pelts over his head, running in rivulets down his gorgeous face, plastering his raven hair to his forehead. Water catches in his lashes yet he still looks up at you, eyes like blue flames, devilish but angelic at the same time. Your breath catches at the sight.

“Cum for me, baby. Show me how you’re all mine,” Elvis commands, in whispers, the roar of the water eating the sound.

Then he returns his attentions to you with fierce determination, fingering and eating you with such knowledge that it’s as if he’s telling you that you will never be satisfied by any other man ever again. That he is the only one who can fuck you and love your body in this way. He works as though he’s erasing the men who came before, leaving only him.

The low wave you’re riding begins to peak again and your breathing catches as you clutch at his wet body. You finally surrender with a violent shudder, falling apart around him, your walls fluttering and clenching at his relentless fingers. Your head falls back against the tile, mouth open with breathless sighs as he rides you out. When he pulls his fingers from your soaking heat and replaces them with his mouth, drinking you in, you collapse over him, so overstimulated that tears of pleasure leak from your eyes. You choke back the moans that want to escape your lips as his tongue wickedly works you over, as though tasting his triumph.

You’ve never in your life been so thoroughly fucked out, because, somehow, Elvis seems to top himself every day in that regard. Finally, he comes up from beneath your legs, washing his face in the rapidly cooling water before standing up to kiss you. He seems to have satisfied whatever possessive need came over him and you practically fall into his arms. He washes the slick from between your thighs for you before turning off the shower.

You are unable to form cohesive thoughts, too blissed out, too shocked at yourself and at him for doing what you just did with your husband so nearby. Your limbs shake with the exertion, and you feel wobbly and lightheaded. Elvis takes care of you, drying you off and wrapping a plush terrycloth robe around you. You can barely look at him. His essence is too overwhelming for you right now, and you are too trapped in your confusing web of feelings about him.

Elvis kisses you, whispering things you don’t quite absorb before he wraps himself up in his fancy robe and heads out to conduct business with your husband as if he didn’t just rail his wife into a stupor in the bathroom. He does it effortlessly, too.

As you come back to yourself, you start to shake, thinking about what a mess you’ve made for yourself. You realize that you are ashamed of yourself for what just happened, not really so much for the act itself, but more of the fact that you liked it so much. You also know that you don’t truly understand Elvis’ feelings for you, how his need for you is beyond anything that you assumed.

Sliding to the floor, you sit with your back against the wall as your husband (because as much as you hate him right now, he’s still your husband, and deep down you still have some semblance of love for him, you think) talks with your lover. You need out of here. The multitude of emotions coursing through you is too much. Your impulse to flee is so strong that you have to sit on your hands and pray that Jack leaves as soon as possible.

After what seems like an eternity, Elvis comes for you, telling you the coast is clear. Everything in you is being torn in two opposing directions: one wanting to run away as fast as you possibly can, away from your love and his possessiveness, and the other is so drawn into Elvis that looking at him is difficult because the idea of leaving him physically hurts you.

As you dress, clad once again in the outfit he got for you, Elvis tells you your first lesson with the vocal coach is at 5pm, then kisses you deeply before sending you on your way. You are glad that there is not a lot of time for talk or anything else, as your mind is going a million miles an hour. Confusion and guilt and love and elation all stream through you at once.

You shouldn’t be surprised when you find yourself outside Sandy’s room, knocking quietly on the door.

She opens the door with a look of surprise. “Hey, there, hon,” she says with a smile.

You promptly burst into tears.

“Oh, hon, what’s wrong? Come in, come in,” she says, putting her arm around you and ushering you inside.

“I’m sorry,” you sniffle, hiccupping, wiping at your face.

“Don’t worry about it,” she says, sitting you down, rubbing your back. “You talk when you’re ready.” She waits patiently as you compose yourself, just being a comforting presence.

You can’t seem to speak the words out loud. There are too many of them and they are too jumbled in your brain. Luckily, Sandy seems to pick up on this and gently starts the conversation.

“You disappeared on me last night,” she says.

“I was…I was with Elvis,” you finally stutter out, almost in a whisper.

“Elvis? Why were you with Elvis?” she asks innocently. Then you watch her face as she connects the dots and realizes what you actually mean. Her eyes go wide for a moment. “Oh, shit,” she breathes out.

“Yeah,” is all you can muster up to that. You can see the wheels turning in her head.

“How long?” she asks.

“Not long. Only since we’ve been in Vegas.”

“Hmm,” she nods. You are confused that she doesn’t seem more shocked at the whole thing, that she’s not peppering you with ‘Oh my god’s and asking for every detail.

“What do you mean, ‘Hmm?’” you ask, a little defensive.

“Not a bad, ‘Hmm,’ hon. I guess…I’m not all that surprised is all,” she responds.

“What? How are you not surprised?! I’m surprised!” you argue, voice becoming shrill.

“Okay, take a breath! I just mean, well, you and EP have always had a special connection. And I’ve seen how he looks at you sometimes when he thinks no one else is looking. It’s not the biggest leap, especially considering what happened with Jack this week,” she says.

You are flabbergasted at this response. You expected judgement and disbelief. Certainly not an ‘Oh yeah, that seems right.’

“What are you talking about, a ‘special connection’?” you pry.

Sandy gives you a speculative look. Finally, she shakes her head at you, “Hon, how long have you been in his life?”

You don’t understand the point of this. “14 years, give or take. What does that matter?”

“What other woman has been in his life that long, besides his blood relations?” she asks pointedly, eyebrows raised.

Your mouth opens then closes as you try to piece together the many women in his life over the years. None come even close. “That’s irrelevant. It’s only that long because of his friendship with Jack,” you finally say.

“Sure,” she says, patting your hand, placating you.

“Sandy, my life is falling to pieces here! Jack almost caught us today. And I feel like a horrible person because I’ve gotten completely swept up into this affair, and not just any affair, but with my husband’s friend, who just happens to be Elvis Presley. If people find out, if Jack finds out, all hell is going to break loose, and my life will be over. But I keep going back, it’s like I can’t stop. I feel insane!” you ramble, pacing around the room.

“He’s that good in bed, huh?” she asks, wiggling her eyebrows at you suggestively.

“Oh my god.” You blush furiously, covering your face with your hands.

“Of course, he is,” she laughs. “I mean, one doesn’t want to assume, but how could he not be?”

“Sandy, be serious for one second, please!” you beg. “I’m not going home today. Elvis is having me stay out here, with the pretense that I’m to become part of the show as one of the backup singers.”

“Wait, really?”

“Yes. And he sent Jack away last night on purpose so we could spend the whole night together. I’m telling you, San, I’m in too deep, and Elvis has no intention of letting me go. You know how he gets.”

“Do you want him to let you go?”

“I…no. And that’s the problem,” you say quietly, sitting back down next to her. “It’s like I’m out of my mind for him, which is so stupid. I hate being like all those other women. I hate that I know this won’t end well, yet I’m doing it anyway. And the lies, the sneaking around, it makes me an awful person.” You slump over onto her shoulder, exhausted by your own choices.

Sandy sits silent for a moment, arm around you. “You are not an awful person, hon. Jack hurt you bad, and you are turning to the only other man you trust to get you through it.”

“It’s still wrong. It’s still stooping to Jack’s level. And if it were just sex, I…” you trail off, unable to say the rest out loud.

“You love him.” She says it plain as day, as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world. As if it’s easy.

“I can’t,” you whisper.

“But you do,” she responds. “And that’s what scares you, isn’t it?”

You nod. “I’m just gonna get hurt again, I know it. I know that E doesn’t feel the same way about me.”

“And how do you know?” she asks. “Did he tell you that?”

“Sandy, it’s Elvis. We all know how he is with women. And besides that, there are all the other factors, like Jack, being married, all of it. It’s too complicated. I need to end it, but I’m not sure I’m strong enough, or that he’ll even let me,” you begin to cry.

Sandy suddenly jumps up and begins unpacking her suitcase, suddenly on a mission.

“What are you doing?” you ask.

“Well, I’m sure as hell not going back home today and leaving you all by yourself with all of this,” she says, hanging stuff in the closet.

“You don’t have to do that,” you say, but you are silently grateful.

“Uh huh.” Sandy gives you a knowing look. “You think I’m going home and miss all the action? Do you even know me at all?” she jokes.

“Thanks,” you say, feeling a little better.

“Not a problem, hon. We’ll get you through this, I promise. Love you,” she says, hugging you.

“Love you, too,” you whisper, squeezing back.

“Now I need all the details about how good the sex is! Does he do the lip thing in bed?”

You feel heat blaze over your cheeks.

“Oh, god, he does!” she laughs, teasing.

You smile, but still your stomach churns and your mind spins. What Sandy said about the connection you and Elvis have hits deep, knocking loose some of those dots you’ve been trying to connect, the ones your dreams and memories have been leading you towards. Desperate, you try to push those thoughts away, because even if (and that’s a big if) Elvis has some true feelings towards you, it doesn’t make anything less complicated. In fact, it makes things more complicated. But you refuse to make any assumptions about how he may or may not be feeling towards you, other than horny.

With Sandy and your impending first voice lesson as distractions, you force yourself to move forward. It’s easier when Elvis isn’t in your vicinity, drawing every cell of your body to him. Your head begins to clear at bit, and you finally think that maybe, just maybe, you’re getting a handle on things. That you’re in control and everything is manageable. That everything is not completely, terrifyingly of the rails.

I’ve got this, no big deal. I’m not in love and having an affair with Elvis, and I’m certainly not scared shitless about singing in front of people, and my husband definitely isn’t a liar and a cheat, you try and convince yourself.

Perfect. I guess I can add “delusional” to the list of my problems.

But you can hear the clock ticking. It’s getting louder by the second, telling you you’re one step closer to your downfall and that you can’t stop the shitstorm that’s coming, no matter how hard you try.

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