#anyone that i didn't mention please don't feel that i don't recommend your blog i will the next few days

[savebylou]

Hi, could you recommend me some larries accounts to follow?

Hi anon, yes althought I will probably forget so many people. Basically everyone I reblog I recommend but here are some:

@awesomefringey @daisiesonafield-blog @skepticalarrie @twopoppies they have a very organized blog with a lot of things about the fandom's history, I learn a lot of the fandom with their blogs and they also shared a lot of great content, fanart, interesting and funny things. I love following them.

@dreamings-free @sunshineandlyrics besides the organized blog that I love, they share updates on the band or other people related with Louis, articles etc. They also share funny things as well.

Now my mutuals and people that I follow. They share so many great content: fanfics, manips, gifs, analysys, discussions, fanart, edits, photos, reactions, memes, articles etc. I love following all of them:

@thechavier @hl-obsessed @srldesigns6277 @justthinkingaboutlouis @louisisalarrie

@louisarmpits @omglarryrabbit @rachelchinouriris @wendersfive @enchantedlandcoffee

@redpantslouis @shinylights @goldcrumble @statementlou @rainbowbeanstyles

@delicatepointofview @whatifai @tobethemselves @medicinelarrie @harryisthelilspoon

@nauticallyrics @nouies @punkpillowprincess @moonstrucklouis @tangerinequeen19

@sunflowervoltwentyeight @sunkissedlouis @ocean-sailor @louisgayvodka @lets-laughagain

@captainrayzizuniverse @defences-down @defencelesslt @bidamonalbarn

@braverytattoos @voxina @polarighost @starrysaturdays @nunchailou

@calordelverano @curly94 @thebus1boys @theeliampayne @theydopissmeoffavocados

The order is how i remember the url, I love their blogs the same and I'm sorry to miss so many.

Sorry for anyone that I couldn't mention, tumblr only let me tag 50 but I will do a part 2 and maybe 3 the next few days.

[edgeray]

Sorry I meant for you to recommend arlecchino writers that is similar to yours full of sfw :)

Hi anon! Thank you for the clarification!

(That reminds me, I've always thought about it, but would you guys like a post where I recommend my favorite Arlecchino fics from other authors for you starving simps ^^?)

Unforunately, there is not a lot of writers like myself that is dedicated solely to Arlecchino sfw, but there are a few writers that write a lot of Arlecchino content. I'll try to recommend as much as I can! I will mostly be suggesting writers that take requests (and if you do request from any of these authors, ALWAYS make sure to check their rules).

I'd be a terrible child if I didn't mention my Tumblr mothers, @knavesflames and @megistusdiary (gotta keep the favorite child status y'know /hj). You've probably come across their nsfw works for Arlecchino, and while the two write nsfw the most, they both do accept sfw requests, and their sfw stuff is great!! @knavesflames writes only Arlecchino, I think (or she's yet written for any other character, idk).

@enthyya also writes mainly Arlecchino and only accepts sfw request. They're a new writer so they currently don't have a lot but from what they have I think you'd enjoy ^^. Otherwise, you can request from them too.

I love @liliewrites's Arlecchino works! As far as I know, she writes mostly sfw with some nsfw, but I love her works, they're so creative and she interacts a lot with anons! She's written some of my favorite Arlecchino works as of recently. She takes requests as well.

I'm a little (very) biased to @aetherdoesthings because I've following her blog since the start of this year (before I started writing for Arlecchino), so I've been a pretty loyal fan of hers lol. As of recently, she's been writing a lot of Arlecchino works and I'm sure she'd love more requests for Arlecchino ^^. She mostly does sfw requests as well.

@beiiibeii doesn't take requests, and she doesn't have a whole lot of Arlecchino content, but what she does have always smacks. Her Arlecchino works are among my recent favorites as well. (I'm in desperate need of Arlecchino angst, PLEASE, no pressure, beiiibeii, of course) I repeat, do not go to her and request stuff beaccuse she does not take requests! I just think her stuff is neat.

@servalisms 's sevchino lore is so 😩. She also writes mainly nsfw but she writes the best domestic arle. Currently she's taking a break so she's not taking any requests but her stuff that's already there is really cool.

Writers, sorry if I get your pronouns or any information wrong about you! <33 feel free to correct me.

Uhhh I think that's it for now, hopefully that's enough writers? If I'm missing anyone, that's probably because I don't see them write Arlecchino enough for me to recommend them. Go and prosper, or something, Arlecchino simps. As always, I'll still be writing Arlecchino sfw fics.

[genderkoolaid]

Hey, I had read a post from you a while back where you mentioned that people can be queer solely because they're autistic, even if they're still cishet, and I was wondering if you could explain that a bit more? I've been frustrated for a long while with how I'm expected to look and act as a cis man, and that's lead me to blogs like yours.

So, its been pretty well established now that autistic people* are more likely to identify with queerness, in gender and sexuality and anattraction (aspec).

One factor in this is that autistics tend to not pick up (or want to follow) arbitrary, often unspoken social rules. So many autistics don't understand or want to follow rules about what defines men and women and how those groups Should behave and why only these groups can exist.

But there's also deeper issues in how gender roles themselves reject autistics. For example, autistic people tend to use and move our bodies differently. For me, I tend to be somewhat clumsy and generally "ungraceful," which goes against the expectation for women to be good at using the body in structured and pleasing ways. We may not speak in ways men and women are socialized too. Stimming can be a very visible sign of neurodivergency, which is often dehumanized and therefore de-gendered; our physical mannerisms aren't not stereotypically masculine or feminine, but simply inhuman. And sensory issues may influence the way people present themselves, like an autistic woman shaving her hair or an autistic man shaving his beard, or wearing certain clothes that aren't "properly" gendered. I've also seen discussions of kink that talk about how autistics tend to have different ideas of pleasure and pain, which shapes how we engage in sex.

And gender tends to be a highly communal identity- while autistics are often alienated from community. We don't pick up, or fit into, "man" or "woman" culture of allistics, which can often be very exclusionary for anyone who doesn't conform to that mold. (For me, I coped with this in middle school by having a friend group entirely composed of undiagnosed & likely queer NDs, so we didn't have to worry about being weird little freaks around each other. Highly recommend this). This alienation can also effect how we form romantic/sexual relationships, and how we engage with the expectations around what it means to be a "boyfriend" or a "girlfriend."

There's this quote from bell hooks on queerness that I really love: “'Queer' not as being about who you're having sex with (that can be a dimension of it); but 'queer' as being about the self that is at odds with everything around it and that has to invent and create and find a place to speak and to thrive and to live.” Autistic people are frequently at odds with everything around us, and have to create or find new places to speak, thrive, and live. I tend to center queerness on gender and desire (or lack thereof), and being autistic can have an effect on any or all of those categories.

Basically, if you feel like queer is good at expressing your relationship with your gender/sexuality, and/or that queer community/queer theory feels like a safe place to explore and engage with those things then I welcome you here for as long as you want to stay.

*this applies to all ND groups, but we're just focusing on autism in this post

[missmaywemeetagain]

Pink Scarf - Part 20 (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: SEXXXXXXXX. Dom/sub stuff. Angst (as always). Fluff (finally)? Medication/drug use/overdose mentions. Dub con mentions(sort of?). 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: 15.2k (CUZ Y'ALL DESERVE IT)

A/N:  🎶And now, the end is near/And so I face the final curtain🎶

Babies, we are at the end. I don't know what to say other than thank you all so very much, thank you for you patience, and I'm gonna miss the hell out of Reader and Elvis and their stupid, mutual pining asses. (I'm not crying, you are!) 😭 Oh, and I highly recommend listening to Without Love (I Have Nothing) (1969) before reading the middle section here. I've included the first takes to the final master version because the first takes are stripped down & give more of the intimate feel I was getting at, but the final master is excellent, so I wanted to give you listening options! It'll really give you an idea of what the moment feels and sounds like! (I'm such a nerd, I know. Also, only Elvis could nail a song like this in a few takes, lord have mercy.)

I will write a short Epilogue sometime soon, so stay tuned! Also, I am very seriously thinking about publishing a physical book of Pink Scarf (and a Kindle version, too) BUT ONLY IF people are wanting and willing to buy it! It would likely include new bonus chapters/material. Please let me know in the comments, asks, or DMs if this is something you want! Like I said, I don't wanna do it if no one wants it, so let me know!

I sincerely hope y'all will stick around for my next projects as I try to get my writing career off the ground. Y'all are the OG's and the best fans a girl could ask for! 💗

If you so desire, you should now have the ability to tip my blog or different chapters in the story! Some of you have been asking about this, and of course, no one is obligated to do so! If you do choose to tip, thank you so much! I've never had anyone want to pay for my work before, so this is a big step towards my romance novelist dreams. 💜

Finally, I am so FREAKIN' GRATEFUL for every single one of you babies, honeys, and lil' mamas supporting me out there, YOU ARE EXTRAORDINARY! I didn't in a million years expect this kind of support and response for Pink Scarf, and your reactions, reblogs, messages, asks, and comments you've given me have been a blessing beyond expression. You all are the best community a writer could ask for! Thank you so much for your support. I am loving getting to know y'all better! I love every single reaction and comment and ask, and I'm sorry if I don't get back to them all as soon as I'd like but know that I love you all and am so excited to be making new friends! And a big "Hey, Y'all!" to our friends from Elvis Twitter, Elvis Discord, and Elvis Instagram--I see and appreciate you coming over to join us! 👀💋

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. There seem to be some issues with tagging that I can't seem to fix, so please know I'm not leaving you out intentionally! Also, if you comment on a previous part that you want to be tagged, I might not always see it, so feel free to message me if I miss you!

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 AO3 account, as well as my NEW Wattpad account. so if you are so inclined, you can check it out/support me over there with kudos and votes and whatnot!)

Stop her, stop her, stop her…

The words echo in his head, but Elvis is frozen to the spot, watching your back as you walk out the door and possibly out of his life, feeling so raw he fears his heart might liquify and pour out of his mouth. The way you look so angry, more angry than he’s ever seen you, and so disappointed in him—it breaks his goddamn heart. Your vitriol paralyzes him, drying up the words that he can’t seem to tell you.

But he’s done it all for you, every stupid decision he made, he did in the name of love—and of keeping you safe and keeping you sane (you fuckin’ liar, you know that ain’t true, he lambasts himself).

“You screwed with our lives because you could. You and your fucking egomaniacal, insane, manipulative bullshit…” Your words cut like daggers into his skin. He wants those words to be utterly untrue, outright lies, but he knows—he knows—that you are not entirely off base.

And perhaps that’s been the problem all along: he doesn’t truly believe he deserves you. For all the reasons you spit at him and for the fact that he has ruined you in more ways than one.

But the one crucial thing you are dead wrong about is that he didn’t care, that he’d just fucked you and wanted to pretend it never happened. He may be many of the things you said—egotistical, manipulative, stupid for lying to you—but he loves you, more than he has ever been able to express.

If anything, he’s cared too much.

But you are convinced of the opposite and, stupidly, he didn’t tell you any different.

This is the thing that finally gets him moving. His heart thrums in his chest as he races out the door, desperate to catch up to you. He looks around frantically for you, barely processing the confused and pitied looks of the men around him and flies out the main door of the penthouse suite.

“Y/n!” he shouts, hoping he can salvage this because he needs you more than he needs air to breathe.

I love you, I love you, I love you! screams in his mind but not out of his mouth, for reasons he can’t entirely explain. He arrives in the hallway just in time to see the elevator doors close behind you.

He’s too late.

“Fuck!!” he screams, and without thinking turns and plunges his fist into the wall. Plaster and paint flake around the new divot and burning pain radiates up his arm.

He nearly collapses from the way his heart tears in two, the gravity of the situation hitting him all at once. He’s barely slept in days, what with taking care of you in the hospital, being wracked with worry, and then having to come back and give high quality performances as if life was normal. His heart is beating too fast and his limbs feel weak.

Suddenly, everything feels much too heavy.

His legs threaten to give way and he leans against the wall, furious at you for making him feel these things. But he is more furious at himself.

You didn’t even say you were sorry, you stupid fucker, a little voice berates him.

I have nothing to be sorry for, the stubborn part of him, the one driven by his ego, replies.

The inner voice laughs sardonically. You have everything to be sorry for.

“EP!” he hears Jerry’s alarmed voice from far away. But he’s beyond caring.

I’ve lost her, is all he can think as his vision blurs and narrows, After all this, I’ve still lost her.

Jerry rushes to his side, but the despair and fury within Elvis drives him back into the penthouse, causing destruction along the way. He barely registers tearing the rest of his room apart, only knowing that he needs some outlet, some release of these horrible feelings trapped inside of him. To purge himself of the fact that even with all he tried to do to prevent it, his worst fears had still come to pass. Distantly, he’s aware of the breaking glass and the ripping of fabric and the roaring sound coming from his mouth, but everything is unfocused and red in his mind.

Elvis does this until finally his body gives out and he collapses on the bed. As he comes back into himself, his heart is beating so hard and so fast that he’s actually a little afraid he will give himself a heart attack. Trying to steady his breathing, he looks up, and seeing himself in the mirror above the bed, he hardly recognizes the man lying there.

Self-pity descends rapidly. There’s no way she’ll ever love me after this. How could she?

Early in his life, he’d thought June had been his last hope of ever having a woman love him for who he truly is, stripped of fame, warts and all, but he’s long since realized that you are that woman. You are his last chance at having that kind of true love in his life. And now those dreams are dying right in front of him because of his own stupidity.

I’ll always be alone.

And with that thought, he closes his eyes and wishes he were anyone else but Elvis Presley.

*

The commotion outside his bedroom door has Elvis lifting his chin expectantly yet not hopefully. He’s spent the last three hours faking his way through his midnight show trying to push the horrified and angry look on your face out of his mind. Trying to forget that he let you walk out his door.

Needless to say, it wasn’t his best show, though bellowing out his feelings through the music was cathartic in its own way.

He’s not sure why he had frozen like he did. It certainly wasn’t like him to cow-tow in the midst of a fight, but he had promised himself in the hospital that he’d be gentler with you. Perhaps it was the shock of seeing you so completely furious. Maybe it was that you’d finally remembered what happened after so many years, unearthing his deepest, darkest secrets and mirroring them back to him in the worst of ways. Or maybe it was that so many of your words rang with truth, even though you’d misunderstood the core reasons behind his actions.

Either way, he feels like his heart was ripped out of his chest. Part of him yearns to do more self-destructive things, but instead he sits still on the edge of his giant bed, the one you should be in right now, trying to understand just how completely he managed to screw this up.

“Fuck you, Elvis Presley. It would’ve changed everything.”

Your words ring through his head again and again, like a broken record. What did you mean by that exactly? Because the crushed look on your face when you said it made it seem like you had feelings for him back then that if realized would’ve changed your relationship, and that sends a wave of heartache through him so strong that he feels like he might vomit.

“Jerry, I swear to God, if you don’t let me in there, you’ll be sleeping on the couch for the foreseeable future!” He hears Sandy’s voice through the door and closes his eyes, trying to prepare himself for what he thinks is coming.

The door bursts open and he opens his eyes to see Sandy storm in, Jerry looking incredibly apologetic and a bit mortified that he was unable (or unwilling) to stop his wife.

Elvis waves Jerry off. He knows he can’t stop the onslaught. Jerry raises his eyebrows in an, “Are you sure?” way, and Elvis sends him out with a look.

“You’re a fuckin’ idiot, Presley,” Sandy seethes, pointing at him once the door is closed behind her.

“Nice to see you, too, Sandra,” he responds wearily.

“Oh, don’t you ‘Sandra’ me,” she spits, then looks him over carefully, as if really seeing him. She surveys the disaster of the room, which he had completely torn to shreds after you left, then looks back at him. “You look like shit,” she adds matter-of-factly, almost as if she’s glad of it.

He can’t help shooting her a withering glare, but Sandy’s blood is up and does not falter under his gaze like most would.

“How is she?” he finally asks, dreading the answer.

“Well, let’s see…in the last three days her husband beat her up, her life imploded, and she just found out that her lover has been hiding some pretty crucial shit from her for over a decade. She sobbed for two hours straight and has been near catatonic since, so she’s just peachy, Elvis,” Sandy says sarcastically.

“Watch your tone, Sandra,” he warns, feeling his temper threaten.

“No, I don’t think I will, Elvis. Not when y/n is absolutely miserable and you are sitting up here doing nothing about it,” Sandy shoots back.

“This ain’t none of your business,” he says, vexed, standing and pointing a ring-clad finger at her. He likes Sandy, but he sure as hell doesn’t like her calling him out like this, not when he’s already been beating himself up about it.

Sandy laughs wickedly, “You made it my business the moment you let her tell me and started using me as cover for your lies.”

He can’t argue with that. Deflated, he runs his hand over his face. He is utterly miserable.

“What the hell were you thinking?” Sandy says, and this time, her voice is quieter, gentler. “How could you keep something like that a secret for this long?”

He doesn’t want to say and certainly doesn’t want to appear vulnerable, but the ache in him is so bad, he can’t hide it. And he knows for a fact Sandy won’t let this go. Finally, he relents.

“I-I-I was trying to protect her, to protect our friendship… I w-was terrified I’d hurt her, that I’d…taken her against her will, and I-I-I could barely live with myself. I couldn’t burden her with the enormity of what we’d done” he says.

“And what about pushing her and Jack together, all the interfering? How exactly does that line up, E?” Sandy asks pointedly.

Elvis clears his throat and looks down. That is not something he is proud of. He wants to say he didn’t mean for it to go that way, but it would be a lie.

“It wasn’t like that, not at first. By the time I realized how I really felt about her, Jack had already swooped in and asked her out. I had nothin’ to do with it,” he says defensively.

Sandy crosses her arms, not accepting that and waits for him to continue.

“Well, then…then I-I realized she’d be better off with a man who could give her the stability and the family she wanted. I couldn’t be there for her, not the way she deserved. My career was just takin’ off and I—well, hell, it didn’t even matter until that day at Graceland, and I was ready to throw it all out the window when I’d thought she felt the same way about me that I felt for her, but-but then she…the overdose, she didn’t even remember…How was I supposed to explain that to her, Sandra? How? How was I gonna look her in the eyes and tell her she came on to me and we made love on the floor and that it completely changed everything? Who was gonna believe that? You know as well as I that it would’ve ruined her!” he says, his heart pounding, voice quavering, and his blood up.

Sandy looks at him carefully. “You were afraid she didn’t feel the same way. And that she doesn’t now,” she states, as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

His head snaps up to look at her, eyes wide and caught like a deer in headlights.

“I had to protect her. And I had to set her up so she’d always be taken care of. And if she was with Jack, I could do that for her, for them. They could be happy. I wanted them to be happy, I-I swear. I thought they’d be happy!” he yells, back off the rails, pacing the room like a caged tiger.“I-I-I could…w-w-well, if she wasn’t with me, at least with him I would always know she was okay, and I could see her and it wouldn’t be some random-ass man that I didn’t know or trust takin’ her away from me forever!”

Sandy stays quiet, her gaze intense and knowing, and just waits for him to continue.

“I-I-I needed her to still be in my life, Sandra. I didn’t know Jack would fall so deep into the hole that he’d throw everything away. I didn’t think he would ever, ever hurt her!”

The words of his confession ring out and then die. Silence sits heavy for a moment.

“Wow. I have to say, that’s some masterful denial there,” Sandy finally says harshly. “Did you really think it was gonna be good for their marriage to take him away for months at a time? To feed him women and drugs and then be like, ‘Ooops! I didn’t know! It’s not my fault!’? Really?” she adds cuttingly, but steadily.

She’s right and he knows it. And she’s pushing him to admit the one thing he’s not sure he can.

He wants to get angry. He wants to scream and throw her out for her audacity. Instead, he just feels a rock in the pit of his stomach, realizing the truth of what she’s getting at:

That he’d knowingly sabotaged your marriage and then, when it was really bad, he’d taken advantage of the situation.

“You need to own up to what you did and apologize, and then you need to tell her what you’re so afraid of, Elvis. I can’t emphasize enough how much she needs to know that you love her,” Sandy continues with conviction.

His mouth pops open and then closes again, wordlessly, at hearing his feelings shared out loud so easily when he’s been harboring them alone for so many years. “You didn’t see how angry she was with me, how betrayed she looked…There’s no way she feels how I do, not after this,” he shakes his head.

Sandy rolls her eyes and mutters something unintelligible under her breath. “Listen, I have a pretty good idea how pissed and betrayed she’s feeling. And I’m not gonna speak for her, but…” she worries her lip a little, “you two of you really need to talk about how you truly feel about each other. Without all the other shit in the way.”

Something in the way she says it gives him hope.

“You need to fix this, Elvis.”

“I-I-I don’t think I can,” he states, defeated.

“Oh, please. We both know you can do anything when you want it bad enough,” she smiles slyly.

Once again, she’s right. “Why are you helping me?” he asks.

“Because I love her, too, and she deserves to be happy. She deserves the best,” she says knowingly, “That and this mess has everyone on pins and needles. We all just wanna fucking relax.”

Maybe she’s right. Maybe he can salvage this. Just not right now. He is too exhausted and things feel too raw.

"Just...wait a little bit," Sandy adds carefully, as if reading his mind. “I think you both need a little breather.”

He nods.

“But don’t wait too long,” she says on her way out the door, her voice warning him of his worst fear: if he waits too long, he will lose her.

The door clicks shut behind her and silence falls once again. He glances at the bottles on the bedside table. As exhausted as he is, he’s still keyed up too much to sleep.

He doesn’t want to rely on the sleeping pills, in fact, he hadn’t needed them at all when you were in his bed, but his body craves them and he doesn’t have the wherewithal to resist at the moment. So, he pops a few down and waits for the drowsy effect to take hold of him.

When he closes his eyes, all he can see is you.

**

You are itching to play, yearning to feel the white and black ivories under your fingertips. It feels like it might be the only thing keeping you sane these past few days—this need to pour your entire heart into something beyond yourself.

Unfortunately for you, the only pianos you know of are in Elvis’ suite, on his stage, and in the rehearsal room. Two of those aren’t even options at this point. It’s bad enough that anywhere you go in the hotel, all you see is his visage, all you hear is his music feeding through the speakers. An ever-constant reminder of how stupid you are to have ever thought you’d be more to him than just a friend.

You can’t seem to escape him.

You are able, with little effort, to convince Sandy to talk Jerry into letting you into the rehearsal space. Both of them keep looking at you with kind yet sad eyes, as they’ve been witness to all your special humiliations these past few weeks. You suppose it’s good that you are not alone with this, but sometimes all you want is to scream bloody murder and get as far away as possible from Vegas, from Jack, from Elvis.

But you can’t go home, not right now. You learned that Elvis sent Jack back to Memphis to “get himself together” and that Red is his babysitter. But that means you can’t go back to Tennessee, not yet. You can’t face him with all this still up in the air.

So, you are stuck in the limbo that is Las Vegas. You have nothing of your own, no money, no way to get home even if you wanted to. You are exactly where you feared you would be: Alone and heartbroken and stuck.

You hadn’t counted on also being beat to hell, both physically and emotionally.

Which is why you are so desperate to get to a piano. It’s the only way you can get these awful feelings out of your system. You just need to lose yourself in music, in creating it.

But when Jerry lets you in to the large rehearsal space, you are not alone. Someone is already at the piano, their back to you, playing a mournful gospel-style ballad. Someone is already leaning into the keys and singing.

I awakened this morning, I was filled with despair All my dreams turned to ashes and gone, oh yeah

You frantically backpedal and look at Jerry in a panic, but he shakes his head only somewhat apologetically and will barely look you in the eyes as he closes the door, shutting you in with the very person you are trying to escape.

Damn him and Sandy both.

As I looked at my life it was barren and bare Without love I've had nothing at all

You lean your forehead against the door and close your eyes, not wanting to turn around and face him. Instead, you breathe shaking breaths and press your palms into the cool door in order

to not to let the intense waves of anger and sadness that are crashing over you drown you.

You’re not even sure that he knows you are here, his voice ricocheting and echoing throughout the large space. He sounds so consumed by the music that your presence may have gone unnoticed. You aren’t sure if you want him to know you are here or not, but either way, you are swept up into the music with him, your soul clamoring for any part of him despite your mind’s warnings.

Without love I've had nothing Without love I've had nothing at all I have conquered the world All but one thing did I have Without love I've had nothing at all

You don’t want to hear him, not at all (liar), but his melodic voice is hypnotizing, drawing you in with its rich baritone and crying tenor notes and possessed vibrato. And whatever headspace he is currently in has his voice sounding absolutely hauntingly beautiful. It makes you shiver. You are forced to listen, to hear the meaning behind the words.

Once I had a sweetheart who loved only me There was nothing, oh that she would not give, oh no

It's unfair, just how good his voice is at making you listen to it, more than just his words alone, making you hear his soul through the sound. You suppose that is his true talent: being able to pour emotion into a song in such a way that it transcends the music itself. With your eyes shut, it threads through your mind, simultaneously lulling you and making you want to weep. You know you are getting a window into his heart by listening, and it is telling you what you want to hear the most but are terrified to accept.

But I was blind to her goodness and I could not see That a heart without love cannot live

Oh god, oh god, oh god, your inner voice cries because you are suddenly and all at once bombarded with memories. His voice strips you bare, cutting through all the anger and fear and heartache, finally let yourself realize what your subconscious has been trying to tell you for a long time.

Echoes from both the near and distant past trigger inside your mind, your head aching with the residuals of the concussion. First, it’s your own voice, calling back to that moment on the lawn so many years ago, telling Elvis about how you knew Jack was the one: He’s there when I need him. He makes me feel special, like the only girl in the world. I know he’ll always take care of me. He is mine and I am his. Sometimes I almost feel like we were made for each other, ya’ know, like we were meant to be…

Without love I've had nothing Without love I've had nothing at all

Then, Elvis’ words flood your mind, flashing from one moment to the next:

“I just want you to be happy, baby. I wanna make you happy.”

“I take care of what’s mine.”

“You were made for me.”

“You belong here with me.”

“It’s meant to be…”

Your heart slams against your ribcage, making it hard to breathe. It’s like he’s been telling you all along, yet you’ve been too blinded by fear and guilt and the sheer impossibility of it all to truly see.

I have conquered the world All but one thing did I have Without love I've had nothing

 At all

The final phrase is nearly a wail in the most beautiful of ways, the last run falling away and leaving a hollow silence in the room.

The memories come quickly now, a barrage of feelings and images: A boy backstage nervous as hell and his smile as you made him laugh. His eyes searching yours oh-so-closely in a diner booth as you tried to get over Ted. His melancholy the night you got engaged. Dancing, no, clinging onto you at the wedding before his world changed completely, and then again that mournful Christmas he’d returned, when you swore that Elvis wanted you more than anything in the world.

It’s the same way he looked when you climbed into his lap and rode him that fateful, forgotten day at Graceland.

His words from the other day, the ones that felt so possessive and manipulative take on different meaning as the puzzle pieces finally click into place, one by one:

“You are all I’ve been able to concentrate on, ya know that? You’re all I fuckin’ think about. I want you. I want you to be with me. Be with me.”

“Baby, you have me, you’ll always have me. You’re mine, and I’m yours, and I’ll take care of you, no matter what happens.”

“Let me take care of you. Let me be your everything.”

“I thought I told you, honey—I always get what I want, and I think I’ve made it quite fuckin’ clear who I want.”

“I need you.”

You are nearly brought to your knees with overwhelm, breathing too fast as you cling to the wall, anything, to ground you.

Then, like a freight train, it finally hits you, finally clicks, the thing he’s still hiding from you.

You suddenly remember the blanket of Elvis’ warmth surrounding you as you turned cold, bleeding out in his arms. The way his crystalline blues were terrified and beautiful and pleading. He rocked you in his arms, begging you not to leave him.

“No, no, no! Oh, God, don’t—please don’t go…”

Your heart stops. And you finally remember.

“…I-I love you, y/n, please, I love you.”

He’s loved you all along.

All of his cagey behavior, his deceit, the manipulations, it wasn’t to mess with you. It wasn’t because he didn’t care. It was because he loves you.

Tears stream freely down your cheeks as you turn around to face him. And as always, he’s right there, right where you need him.

“I…I…” is all you can manage to eek out.

He grabs your tear-stained cheeks in his big hands, his azure eyes deep and soulful, looking at you imploringly, and he whispers, “I love you. I’m in love with you. I love you more than anything in this life. I think I loved you the moment you steamrolled me in the hallway at school.”

Shock courses through you at hearing the words come out of his mouth, right here, in the present. You let out a choked, tearful laugh. It cuts through the anger you still feel and banishes your heartache, letting a swell of warmth overtake you. Despite all your feelings for him, you hadn’t even let yourself truly hope that he could feel the same way about you that you do about him. And to learn he’d felt this way for so long without your knowing…it feels inconceivable.

“I-I-I…and I’m so sorry, y/n.”

Elvis Presley doesn’t apologize. He buys obscenely lavish gifts. He skirts around the subject and gets really nice with those puppy dog eyes, but he doesn’t apologize, so this in itself floors you.

“I-I-I shoulda told you…but I thought…,” he steels himself against the emotions that are so obviously plaguing him before continuing, “that I’d taken advantage of you when you weren’t yourself, that I’d hurt you. I couldn’t live with myself, y/n. The guilt was eatin’ me alive and goddamn if I was gonna subject you to that pain. And I figured God wanted me to take on that burden for you, that there had to be a reason you didn’t remember. You wouldn’t have to face your betrayal of Jack or your regret for bein’ with me. I thought I was protectin’ you, protectin’ us.” He stops there, voice trembling, eyes open and honest, and you know then that while it had been wrong of him to hide this from you, he had truly believed that he was doing what was best for you. As mad as you are, part of you hurts for him because he’d gone through it all alone.

“I knew I couldn’t give you what you deserved, so I went meddlin’ in your life in the selfish need t’keep ya close to me, t’have some part of you as mine,” he rambles, racing through the words, utterly focused on getting out what he needs to say.

“I just needed you in my life. And I-I-I need you now. I needja more than anythin’,” he keeps going, his voice still shaking and the pads of his thumbs caressing your cheeks before trailing down your neck and your arms. You can feel them shaking, too, a sweaty heat emanating from them as he grabs your hands in his. His eyes are stormy and grey and deep with emotion, pulling you in, forcing you to accept his words.

He takes a deep, steadying breath before continuing. “It w-was wrong of me to-to sabotage what you had with Jack. And then to swoop in when you were vulnerable—it’s unforgivable. And if ya can’t forgive me…well, I-I’m gonna hafta understand. But I-I-I hope you do, that you can. I know I ain’t always a good man, y/n. I try to be, but bein’ with me—well, you already know it ain’t easy, the way my life is…” he trails off.

Part of you wants to interrupt him, to shout your love for him to the heavens, but frankly, his words have you speechless. And you know by his demeanor that he needs to get this out.

Tears pool in his eyes as he struggles to go on. “I know it’s been hard on you, all this. And if you can forgive me, if you wanna be with me, I promise I’ll do better t’make this work for ya. You make me a better man, y/n. You keep me on the ground, and God knows I need that more than anythin’,” he chuckles a little at that before his face drops into something much more serious.

“Come back to me, y/n. Please, come back to me. I love you,” he whispers, eyes imploring you. He is so used to demanding, but this he begs of you.

You are outwardly quiet, though your blood rushes in your ears. You want more than anything to concede to him with these revelations, to fall haplessly into his arms, and any other woman might. Honestly, you would have, just a few days ago, but Elvis cannot erase the harm he caused you with these welcome words or soulful singing or puppy dog eyes. You cannot escape the feelings of betrayal that have permeated through you these past few days.

“Elvis, I…I want to trust you again. I really do,” you finally get out, “because…because I love you, too. I think I have for a long, long time.”

Saying the words aloud lifts a weight from your shoulders, making you feel almost lightheaded.  You were so scared to say them, to reveal this hidden part of you, and the way his face lights up in such a hopeful way, it almost makes you start crying again. He squeezes your hands so hard that it hurts. But you have more to say and can’t let this distract you.

“But my mind it—it made me forget. I don’t know exactly why or how. I think I was so afraid that I could never have you, that there was no way you’d ever in a million years have those kinds of feelings for me…I think I had to protect myself,” you explain.

An inner strength you didn’t know you had until this very moment allows you to keep going. You take a deep breath. “Elvis, I want to forgive you, and I want to be with you, I do. But I am exhausted. I am weary. And I am still angry at you, and at Jack, and at myself. I need a little time to figure out what my world is now, without the oppressiveness of Vegas pushing in on me.”

You look up at him, hoping he understands, hoping he is willing to give you what you so desperately need.

He blinks as if coming out of a trance, surprise and confusion and dismay playing out on his features so quickly. You know he expected something different from you, and as much as you want to give it to him immediately, you know you cannot.

“I need to leave Vegas, E. I need space. I want to forgive you, but I need to heal,” you say firmly, looking into his eyes, holding back the sob that wants to break through. You can only hope that he sees and hears the truth in you. “I can’t start a life with you like this, bruised and broken.”

He shakes his head, small at first and then in outright protest. “No, no, baby, please, I need you here. I love you,” he says with a mixture of frustration and pleading and hurt, grabbing your cheeks again.

Tears pool and fall freely now, but you stay resolute, grabbing his wrists. “No, right now you need to be Elvis Presley and finish this engagement strong. You need to show the world that you are back and to spread that joy of music and performing as only you can.”

“None of that matters, baby. No, I need to be with you. I’ll cancel the rest of the performances,” he says, leaning his forehead against yours, fighting you every step of the way.

“The hell you will, Elvis Aron Presley. That’s not what I want, not for me or for you,” you say fervently, pulling away to look at him, bringing your hands to his face this time. “You need this. Seeing you up there…you are more alive now than you’ve been in years. I know how much you love this and your fans—”

“I love you more,” he interrupts, and it both makes your heart soar and breaks it at the same time. You close your eyes briefly to center yourself before looking back at him.

“And I love you. But I need space, and you have to finish this. Once it’s done, once I’ve had time to heal and forgive, then you come back to me, you hear?” you say, unable to keep the emotion from your voice but keeping it resolute all the same.

You watch him struggle. You can see how young he looks all of a sudden and you know he’s afraid you’re abandoning him. You’re afraid, too, but if the two of you have made it this long, you can stand it a while longer. Ultimately, you know if you fall back into him now, you’ll always hold resentment and that will poison you both over time, and you can’t have that.

Elvis closes his eyes and nods once. “Okay,” he whispers, so quietly you can barely hear it. A lone tear streaks down his cheek.

“Okay,” you whisper back.

He kisses you then, so softly, so gently, that you can’t help but lean into it. The chaste kiss is mournful and longing and hopeful all at once. It’s a kiss that is laced with the possibility that it could be the last one. You desperately hope that isn’t true, but only time will tell.

When you both pull away, you can feel the tether between you, the one that has always been there, tighten.

“Will you go to Hillcrest?” he asks, raising his eyes to yours hopefully, but it is more an offer than a question. The house in Beverly Hills is his home away from home.

You consider this and realize, other than going home to your parents (who you don’t quite feel ready to face yet, either), it’s your only option. It’s also a concession that will keep you connected to him, and you are comfortable giving him that. With its gorgeous views and serene setting, it will be a perfect solace.

“Yes,” you respond, and he seems sated by that. “Thank you,” you add quietly, then before you can second guess yourself, you tear yourself gently from his grasp and walk out the door.

Graciously and swiftly, he has Jerry take care of all the arrangements. Sandy is set to join you, and once you are both packed and ready, Jerry takes you to the airport and sees you both off.

Before he leaves, Jerry stops you. “He wanted me to give you this,” he says quietly, then opens your hand and places something soft in it.

Surprised, you look down, and see the familiar pink silk scarf folded there. You haven’t seen it since Jack ripped it from your neck that horrible night. Your fingers close around it. The message is clear: The ball is in your court.

“Send it when you’re ready for him,” Jerry adds with a knowing look.

You nod. You put the scarf in your purse.

Elvis Presley loves me, you think as you sit on the plane, but that feels trite, knowing other women have been able to say the same at some point or another.

Elvis has loved me since we were teenagers. He’s in love with me and has been all this time.

Now that is something that sends a thrill right through you.

You reach into your purse and run the silk between your fingers.

When it’s time, I’ll know.

**

Four Weeks Later

The hot California morning sun beats down on the umbrella that shades you. You had been reading and wanted to get some fresh air, the cold of the air conditioning giving you a bit of a chill in your white sundress but you cannot help but close your eyes drowsily as the heat swallows you like a blanket.

The last month was restorative, to say the least. It had been such a relief to get out of the stifling cacophony of Vegas, and it had allowed your brain to rest and recover from your concussion. Your bruises healed, and Sandy was there to both listen and have a good time when you needed it. You talked and thought through all your memories, working to understand both your reasons and Elvis’ for the way things had gone for your entire relationship.

You hadn’t heard from Elvis, as he was taking your need for space seriously, but Elvis’ lawyer had visited a few times, drawing up divorce papers that surprisingly took you a few days to sign. Not because you didn’t want to, of course, but because you had to fully process all that had happened and what it all meant to you. Sandy sat through your crying and guilt and shame like a champ, supporting you wholeheartedly once you finally picked up the pen and signed away your destructive marriage.

Once the lawyer had called back a week later saying that Jack had signed the papers, you felt like a new woman. Like you could finally start anew. Part of you had expected more of a fight out of Jack, but you did not dwell on the reasons he might have signed so willingly.

Sandy had headed home to Memphis to join Jerry once the Vegas engagement and resulting celebrations were over. You sent the pink scarf with her, with instructions to give it to Elvis only once you called her to do so, once you were finally ready. She’d smirked and rolled her eyes but was happy to do it all the same.

“Whatever I can do to finally get you two idiots on the same page,” she’d said lovingly.

You’d called her last night.

You can’t help but feel nervous. Even though a month was certainly not the longest you two had gone without speaking, this time it felt poignant and heavy in another way entirely. Your thoughts ran away from you at times: What if he’s changed his mind? What if he met someone else in Vegas?

It was possible and even probable that he’d been with other women since you left. You know how he is, and a man like him is not liable to change overnight. But you’ve spent most of your relationship with other people, and he still loved you after all this time, so even if he had been with someone else, you doubted it meant anything at all.

Of course, it still sends a red heat of jealously through you all the same. You push the thought as far away as you can, swinging your legs off the lounge chair, puttering back inside.

The cool air hits you like a wall of ice, and you close the sliding glass door quickly, goosebumps raising on your skin.

“Y/n.”

The familiar drawling baritone freezes you in your tracks. As your eyes adjust to the darkness inside the house, his tall frame becomes apparent across the living room and goosebumps rise over your skin for an entirely different reason than the cool air.

He looks incredible, magnificent even, wearing a silky white button up, the buttons undone at the top to reveal his tan chest, a pair of perfectly tailored black pants flattering him in all the right ways. But most significantly, the pink and black scarf is draped around his neck.

“Elvis,” you whisper, your heart fluttering in your chest.

That tether that you’ve learned has always been subconsciously tying you two together yanks you towards him. Your book drops to the floor and your bare feet run for him before your brain can catch up to you.

He meets you halfway and you throw yourself into his open, waiting arms. Your lips crash together with fervor, thirsty for each other after such a long drought. Soft, sweet, pillowy lips drink you in as your heart races and he pulls you in tighter. His familiar scent and warmth engulf you in such a comforting way that it brings tears to your eyes.

When your kiss finally slows and you both come up for air, you whisper, “You came.”

“Of course, I came.” As if there was ever any doubt.

Elvis pulls you to the couch, cradling you in his lap as he showers you with gentle but intense kisses. The heat between you builds but unlike in Vegas, it is more patient—openly full of love and admiration.

“I missed you,” he says into your mouth, his statuesquely perfect nose nuzzling into yours.

“I missed you, too,” you admit with a smile.

“Good,” he smiles, that lip of his curling up almost shyly.

His lips find your cheek, then placing soft kisses over your nose and eyelids and your forehead, as if committing your bone structure to memory with his mouth. It is unhurried because, for once, you have all the time and privacy in the world. You sigh underneath the reverence of his kisses as they trail down your jaw.

“Baby,” you say, stopping him, “as much as I want to continue this, I have things I need to say before that happens.”

He gives you one last kiss before bringing his attention to you. His gorgeous azure eyes fix in on you in such a way that you feel overwhelmed. It’s amazing to you how, even after all these years, he still has the ability to completely render you speechless with his magnetism and beauty.

“Yes?” he says, steeling himself for what may or may not be coming.

You tear your gaze from him enough to refocus. “I’ve been doing a lot of thinking and I need you to know that I forgive you, for all of it. I forgive you, and more than anything, I love you. I want to be with you, though I know we need to figure out what that looks like. I mean, if that’s what you still want, of course,” you fumble, looking away, not wanting to make assumptions.

“Oh, it’s very much what I want, lil’ mama,” he purrs happily and seductively, using his pointer finger under your chin to turn your head, bringing his lips once more to yours. Fire blooms in your chest and radiates down into your belly as his tongue dips into your mouth. “I love you. I want you to be with me. Always have, baby.”

“I signed the divorce papers, and so did Jack,” you blurt out, needing to make sure he knows and understands.

Elvis chuckles, the low rumbling vibrating under your hand on his chest. “I know, Satnin,” he drawls, his bedroom eyes sharp underneath the haze of lust you see in them.

“Of course, you do,” you laugh, shaking your head, taking the moment to run your fingers through his coiffed dark hair.

He looks at you deeply, firmly but gently grabbing your chin in his hand. “Let me be your everything,” he whispers. It is somehow both a question and a command.

Your stomach drops, but not out of fear this time. No, it is a tingling anticipation that wafts over you and makes your breath catch. You run your finger over his lips, pulling down on that full bottom one.

“Yes,” you nod. You unfurl from his arms and stand, reaching for his hand.

Elvis looks up at you through those long, dark lashes with something between wonder and eagerness. You pull him off the couch wordlessly, his fingers intertwining with yours as you lead him through the house to the master bedroom.

When you finally arrive, you look up at him almost bashfully. “I was wondering if we could try something new?” you ask. You’d been thinking about this for weeks now, all the different ways you want him, but this one thing had stuck in your mind after all you’d been through.

His eyes sparkle almost gleefully with curiosity and lust. “What’re you thinkin’, baby?” he purrs.

You take a deep breath before speaking. You’re not sure if he’ll go for it, but you figure it won’t hurt to ask. “I want to be in charge,” you finally say, matter-of-factly.

His dazed look at your request quickly turns to interest as his brow furrows with consideration. He doesn’t mull long, however, much to your pleasure, before uttering, “Hmm, why not, baby? Let’s try it.” He smiles coyly before bringing you in for a long kiss.

Your heart begins to thump in your chest. You’ve never done this, and you bite your lip, knowing that you have to change your attitude for him to take you seriously. You draw on the strength you’ve gained over these past weeks and take a deep breath to steady yourself.

“On your knees,” you command.

Elvis looks at you with amused surprise at the order. “What?”

“Did I stutter?”

His left eyebrow shoots up so far you think it may try to escape his pretty face and his brilliant blues go wide.

“No, ma’am,” he says, his voice getting breathy and quiet. His eyes don’t leave yours as he slowly sinks, his knees finally touching the floor.

A thrill shoots through you seeing him like this, humbled before you. This man who commands and dominates every room he walks into, brought to his knees for you. You doubt anyone in his adult life has truly had him like this. You relish in the way it makes your heart race in your ribcage.

“Say it again,” you whisper. He seems to know what you mean.

“I love you,” he replies quietly, his eyes open and shining up at you. There is an innocent and boyish quality to them.

With everything that has happened, you have a renewed sense of purpose and confidence which makes you bold.

You lean down and grab his chin in your hand firmly, feeling the light scratch of dark stubble under your fingers.

“Show me,” you command.

He nods furiously in compliance, that look of innocence tempered by sparks of lust in the depths of his oceanic blues. He is more than willing and up for the challenge, and the look sends a shiver of anticipation through you so strong that you can already feel warmth gathering low in your belly. It’s been over a month now since you had him last and each day felt like torture.

Elvis runs his hands up the backs of your calves, caressing your bare legs and resting on the backs of your thighs, his eagerness and yearning evident in his speed. He wants you, too, and he is oh so used to getting what he wants that it gives you pleasure to stop him.

“Uh uh,” you tsk, grabbing his chin again, “you’re gonna take it nice and slow, baby boy, and then maybe, if you’re really good, then you’ll get what you want.” It comes out like a purr, dangerous but alluring, surprising even you. But the look on his face is worth it, the way he nearly crumbles when you call him baby boy, the way his pouty mouth falls open slightly, the way he squirms on his knees, itching to take you but following your lead instead.

“Now, are you gonna be a good boy and do what I tell you?” you coo with an edge of warning. You’ve never in your life have done anything like this before, and you hadn’t planned this, but the control, the power just comes naturally, his responses fueling you forward.

He nods again, unconsciously wetting his plump lips with the tip of his tongue.

“Use your words,” you order.

“Uh-um, y-yeah, yes, I-I-I promise…mama,” he stutters out, picking up your cues and nodding, eyes are wide and becoming more yielding as he begins to submit to you.

Something about the way he does it has that warmth surging in your belly yet again.

“Good,” you say, running your nails up and through his raven locks, scraping his scalp and making his eyes roll back at your touch. You pull back quickly, leaving him a little breathless.

“No hands. Use your mouth,” you order with a smirk.

You watch his Adam’s apple bob with a gulp. “Yes, ma’am,” he replies, faster this time. He’s adapting quickly to your game, and the way he bows down to your feet, kissing the bare skin so softly as he makes his way slowly up your ankle to your calf has a thrill shivering through you. His pillowy lips and the tip of his tongue brush and lick their way up your legs, as he alternates one to the other. The sensation, especially after being deprived of his touch for so long, has you sighing softly, and his eyes roll up to yours, framed deliciously by those impossibly long and dark lashes. The blue of them has darkened with lust, but they remain compliant and eager to please.

That alone has the coil in your belly rapidly tightening, and you feel wetness begin to seep into your panties the closer his mouth comes to the place you want him the most.

Your breathing speeds up with this teasing when he meanders under your dress, peppering kisses along your panty line until his hot breath ghosts over the thin cotton of your panties. It puffs over your clit, and you pull your dress up with one hand to watch. His hands fly up to your ass of their own accord, squeezing and clutching at your panties to bring them down.

Using your other hand, you fist it tightly in his hair, yanking his head back and forcing him to look at you. “What did I say about hands, baby boy? I thought you were gonna be good for mama,” you tsk, shaking your head.

It’s a test. You relish in watching him quell the dominant urges he’s having by biting back a smirk of insolence, his lip sandwiched between his teeth so hard he could break the skin. The fire in his eyes almost dares you until he sees the serious look in your own and you tighten your grip in his hair. He winces a little and you watch him consider his options. You don’t let up during this battle of wills, unyielding and unbreaking of the eye contact that might usually level you.

No, after the last six weeks, this time you are going to get what you want.

Finally, he gets it, letting his arms drop to his sides. His face smooths, that innocence returning, and he submits completely to you.

“Good boy,” you breathe, releasing the grip on his hair and running your thumb over his lush bottom lip. His mouth opens and you push your thumb in, scraping at his teeth, then pushing into the soft warmth of his pink tongue. A low moan escapes him as his eyelashes flutter, and you allow him to suck it in, rolling his tongue over your thumb. A pleasured hum escapes your lips at the sensual sensation, and you feel it tingle straight down into your pussy.

“Try again,” you say, looking down at him, pulling out your thumb. You pull up your dress once more.

“Yes, ma’am,” he whispers eagerly, and you see the wheels turning for a moment before he continues. This time, he sits on his hands before he kisses directly over your sensitive nub, wetting the fabric with his tongue before kissing upwards. Then, he snaps the elastic between his teeth and slowly but surely pulls your panties down your legs. Your slick is already evident in the fabric, leaving little trails down your thighs. Gravity takes hold once they reach your knees, and they drop to the floor.

“There’s my clever boy,” you praise him, stepping out of your underwear, running your thumb over his high cheekbone. This causes that signature crooked, boyish smile to spread across his features, reminding you just how incredibly beautiful he is.

And he’s all yours.

As he lathes his tongue back up your thighs, cleaning the slick from them on the way back up to your core, your body shudders with delight and you feel him smiling against your skin. Looking down you see it is not a smirk, but genuine pleasure at making you feel good, and that sends warmth through your chest in addition to the heat rapidly building in your core.

You cannot help the moan of pleasure that escapes you when he finally reaches the apex between your legs and flattens his tongue over your folds. He drags it slowly, deliberately, ending with little flicks on your clit. Heat rolls over you, setting every nerve aflame, and this time when you grab his hair, it is to pull him encouragingly closer into your wet curls.

“Yes, good boy, just like that,” you sigh breathlessly as he begins to shower your pussy with attention, going slowly as you requested. He is soft and persistent, swathing gently through your folds, parting your labia with his tongue before rolling back to your clit. Oh, lord, he is so very versed in this, you remember quickly, as he suckles and presses soft kisses to that most sensitive place.

Your eyes fall shut as you grip his head and shoulder for balance. You cannot help the keening and panting that begins to emanate through you as the coil in your pelvis tightens. Even after only a short amount of time together, he somehow knows exactly how to play you for the most pleasure.

In a daze, your eyes open and you look down at him, his dark hair messy from your hands. That’s when you notice it: he is not touching you with his hands, as promised, but you see how he’s somehow undone his trousers without your knowing. You watch silently for a moment as one of his ring clad hands fondles and tugs at his cock, and it sends a thrill of arousal through you to catch a glimpse of him pleasuring himself like this when he doesn’t know you’re watching. Battling the swell of ecstasy that rockets through you, you curiously watch how his hand slides up and down over his length, pulling at the foreskin that mostly envelops his red tip, how his long thumb glides effortlessly over it, swirling the slick of precum around and over and down. It’s a well-practiced motion and it almost seems unconscious considering the way he is utterly focused on your pussy.

You gasp with pleasure as he massages your clit deftly with his tongue, and coupled with watching him jack off, you feel a desperation for more friction, more of him, building until you realize that it is you who is in control of this moment, not him. With a swell of need you push him back abruptly, his eyes bewildered, and lips shining with your arousal, hand still on his cock, wondering what he did wrong.

“Oh, what a naughty little boy you are. I didn’t say you could touch yourself. I didn’t say you could get yourself off, did I?” you say in a chastising tone.

And, oh god, the bashful look he gives you, dropping his cock, and how his cheeks redden at being caught as he looks down, those lashes fanning out, has you biting back a smile and more heat swelling under your dress.

“No, ma’am,” he says mournfully, shaking his head slightly. And then he’s blinking up at you with those deep blues, waiting for what you are going to do next, what his “punishment” might be, you realize.

“I guess I’m gonna need to teach you a lesson then,” you sigh with exasperation. But his disobeying you only serves to make you more aroused. You put your foot on his chest and push him down and backwards with a low growl. It’s like something primal has come over you, not only your need to dominate him, but also this flaming heat consuming your body and needing his mouth on you more definitively.

“Get on your back,” you demand.

Elvis scrambles backwards quickly and you are grateful for his flexibility as he easily untangles his legs from underneath him and falls back onto the thick shag carpeting. You step over him, sliding your dress up and over your head as you do so, leaving you in only your bra. When you look down, you see his blissed-out eyes wandering over your body with something akin to awe.

You lower yourself down to your knees, straddling his chest, which is already heaving from his arousal. He’s wearing the pink silk scarf, the one from your first night together, and it feels fitting, you think, as you lord over him and unravel it from around his neck. He watches you so intently in any other circumstance you might falter under his gaze, but while blown with lust, you can see by that bashful look in his eyes that he is committed to following your lead here.

“Hands above your head, baby boy,” you coo, running your hands up the underside of his arms, guiding them over his head. “Since you can’t seem to keep from doing naughty things with them, I’ll have to make you stop,” you admonish.

You sit fully on his chest then, feeling as the wetness of your cunt stains the front of his lovely silky shirt, and then you lean over, fully aware that it puts your breasts temptingly over his face. You hear him whimper, knowing he can’t touch you, and you smile as you use the black and pink scarf to tie his wrists together above his head.

You intertwine your fingers with his as you slowly pull back over his body, scooting your hips back as you go until your face is hovering just above his. He’s panting now, little puffs of breath coming from his lips as you ghost your own over his face. Tipping his chin up to try and capture a kiss, you pull back a bit.

“Nuh uh, baby boy. You have work to do first,” you shake your head, kissing the tip of his nose. Then you tempt him by flicking the tip of your tongue over the beautifully perfect cupid’s bow of his upper lip, and he fully whines and squirms under you.

You laugh at that, the fact that you are able to put him in this position, to make him want you enough to be vulnerable and needy like this. Then you become more serious, looking him in the eyes.

“Now use that wicked little mouth of yours to make me come,” you say in a low, sultry, daring tone. “And no touching unless I say so!”

“Y-y-yes, ma’am,” Elvis moans as you maneuver your body up and over his head, bracketing it in with your thighs. Your need for him is quite evident as you lower your already-soaking pussy onto his face and as his pouty mouth kisses your most sensitive areas, you know you are so wound already from this little game of yours that you fear you might come undone too soon.

You’ve never done this before and while part of you is a little worried about the mechanics and fears smothering him, that primal, instinctual part of you starts rocking your hips over his mouth.

“Oh!” you gasp quietly, unable and unwilling to contain the soft moans that his lips and tongue begin drawing out of you as you begin to ride his mouth. When he fully groans against you, the vibrations send a shockwave through your core, nearly snapping that coil inside you already. You steady yourself, finding a comfortable rhythm, and experimentally run your hands up your torso, using them to grope your breasts. You feel him moan again and look down to see him carefully watching you, his eyes blown black.

Sensing how it’s driving him wild, you lift your hips a little to give him air and reach down under the lace of your bra, using the pads of your fingers to lightly drag against the sensitive areola, taunting him and pinching your nipples to attention with a moan of your own.

“Fuckkkk,” he breathes out, the air tickling your labia.

“Language!” you hush him and plant back down on his face. His arms fight to come down and grab you, but between being tied and the way your weight is, he cannot, and groans against you again instead. He works you tirelessly now as you writhe over him and you feel that telltale tightening begin in earnest. You are nearly desperate as his tongue lathes against your folds again and again, dipping in and out of your hole, circling your clit and back again. He eats you expertly, willingly, and you ache for him.

“Good boy, there’s my good baby,” you pant quietly as your heart flutters and your breathing starts to hitch.

But when his tongue slips daringly lower, perhaps accidentally, perhaps not, you careen forward with a shocked gasp as it grazes your other hole.

“Elvis!” you gulp, clasping his hands with your own to steady yourself, stilling your hips. You aren’t quite sure how you feel about that slip yet, only knowing that it’s a place that has been forbidden before now. Your heart pounds so hard you hear the blood in your ears, your body on high alert.

“Hmmm?” is his only response before he tests you again, gently, letting his tongue circle that illicit spot lightly.

“Elvissss…” The moan escapes you before you can stop it because the unfamiliar feeling of his tongue there has your already aroused body teeming with the new sensation and you know you shouldn’t like it, you’re not supposed to like it…

“Yes? You like that mama?” he replies surprisingly bashful, submissively, compared to the sensual dominance that you are used to from him.

“I-I-I’m not sure, baby boy,” you finally stammer out honestly.

You feel him nod underneath you, as if understanding, and he goes back to suckle your clit, making you jump a little and roll your hips. And when his tongue travels back through your swollen folds and he goes a little farther to include that little secret spot, you can’t help but cry out in pleasure this time.

He smiles against you, and you respond by rolling harder on his face, effectively shutting him up. The carnality that flows through you banishes your prudishness and you let him kiss and eat you fully now, from hole to clit, letting the sensations consume you completely.

You fuck his face wildly. You don’t try to stop the keening noises crying from your lips, you just grip his hands for dear life as the coil inside you constricts, your body flooded with fire, desperate for the blast of release his talented mouth promises you. Frantic now, chasing that high, your body tenses over him and he groans loudly into your cunt, his tongue deep inside you, as your thighs squeeze his head.

The peak hits you incredibly hard and you cry out as you shatter above him. White stars flash behind your eyes followed by inky blackness. You can barely breathe for the way it hits you. He continues to lick and suck you through your orgasm, coaxing you, moaning into you in order to continue your pleasure for as long as possible. He devours every drop of your arousal. Shaking and shuddering and oversensitive, you finally scoot your hips back, allowing him to come up for air with his own gasp.

“Did I do good, mama?” he puffs, looking pleased, his face covered in your slick.

“You did perfect, baby boy,” you breathe out, kissing his cheeks, then his swollen lips, tasting your tangy sweetness there. Your body shivers with aftershocks as you come back into yourself, your mind concocting all the ways you want him tonight, all the ways in which you can show him your love and vice versa.

You look down at him, enjoying the sight of pussy-drunk lust on his boyish features, the vulnerability of his hands restrained above his head, the way his bedroom blues dreamily follow your gaze and your lead.

Your need for him feels insatiable. You want to wreck him, ruin him, in the best way possible. Biting your lip you roll your hips into his waist, feeling the cold of his belt sear into your bare core and Elvis’ eyes roll back a little as you drag your nails down over the part of his chest that is exposed above his shirt.

“You gonna continue to be good for mama, baby boy?” you lean down to coo in his ear, scootching your hips back just enough to feel the tip of his rock-hard length through his pants, and you can feel the shudder that ripples through him.

He nods furiously. “Y-yes, mama, oh yes, I’ll be good.”

“I’m so glad, baby,” you whisper, “Mama’s got somethin’ special in store for you.”

Elvis whimpers at that, and you can tell it is taking every ounce of self-control he has to keep from taking you right there and then, but he stays good and still and relatively quiet for you. You kiss down the shell of his ear, nibbling on the perfect lobe, and then you focus your attention on the divot just behind it where his jaw meets his skull. Lapping there for a minute, you take your time as he hums and tenses beneath you, turning his head the opposite direction to give you the access you want. You make your way agonizingly slowly down his neck, using your lips and teeth and tongue in all the ways you’ve learned he likes. By the time you reach his collarbone, he is practically writhing under you.

His breath is beginning to heave and become labored when you start down his tanned chest, the course hair there tickling your lips as you go. One by one, you pop the remaining buttons open, and with each, a pretty little huff escapes his pouting lips. Oh, how beautiful he looks with his cheeks all flushed and his hair mussed, those eyes alternating between peering down at you and looking up to the heavens.

Once again you move your hips back, this time hovering just above the erection raging in his pants. It’s enough that he can feel your heat, but you give him no friction whatsoever, and this is what finally has him bucking his hips up desperately, but you are prepared, dodging well out of the way before he finds any sort of relief.

“Now, now, that’s not how good boys behave,” you tsk at him, earning a huff in response. You use your nails to scratch down his now-exposed treasure trail, your lips following close behind and he fully whines by the time you reach the belt line.

“Please, please, mama,” he mewls at you, raising his head to look at you with begging eyes.

“All in good time,” you muse quietly, shooting him a soft smile.

You take your time with his heavy belt and zipper, causing him to spring forth, his cock hard and veiny, precum already oozing a sticky string between his tip and his abdomen, but you leave him there, untouched. Moving lower, you slowly, deftly, remove one shoe, then the other, doing the same with his socks. Then you pull his pants down his long legs, letting your fingers ghost over his sensitive skin. It’s torture, based on the way he squirms and sighs, and you find yourself full of emotions.

A small part of you relishes in making him squirm after finding out what he’d kept from you all these years, for all the time you may have lost with him because of his self-righteous ego. But a much larger part of you wants this with him, for him, because you know he’s likely not given himself to anyone like this. Not the great Elvis Presley, the man who strives for excellence and control in all things. You cannot imagine him letting just any woman bring him to his knees, tying him up, letting her have her way with him. At least you hope not.

But perhaps that is your own ego talking.

But a sense of unease, jealously perhaps, wafts over you, diminishing your confidence slightly.

“Baby boy?” you hum pensively at him, running your finger softly up the sole of his foot, causing him to jump and giggle a little.

“Yes, mama?” he responds softly, tilting his chin down to look at you.

You frown, worrying your lip a little, wanting to approach this skillfully as not to ruin the mood, but you have to know. Now that the thought is there, you must know.

“Have you ever let anyone else do this? Touch and tease you like this?” you ask, trying to keep your voice sultry and light, running your fingers up the underside of his arm, dragging across the pink silk that binds his wrists.

His brow furrows for a moment as he tries to interpret what’s going on underneath the bravado you’re showing, trying to glean your true meaning, and then his face softens and smooths with realization, his eyes wide and open for you. “Not like this, mama. Just for you. Only you,” he says genuinely, and you know it’s true, that he’s not just giving you lip service within the game you are playing.

“Good,” you nod, more moved by this than you want to show right now, your heart swelling with this new knowledge. You kiss him gently and softly on the lips. 

“Do you trust me?” you add more mischievously, your confidence returning.

“Completely,” he nods back.

“Then it’s time to get on the bed, baby boy,” you purr.

He brings his arms down in front of his abdomen, the scarf still taut at his wrists and his shirt open and flowing behind him, and you help him to standing. His eyes sparkle a little with what you think is anticipation. Once to the bed, he snakes his long, beautiful body backwards until he is lying up against the dark pillows.

Your mouth waters at the sight of him lying there, vulnerable and all yours. Getting between his legs, you start at his feet, massaging the ropey muscles with your hands, and alternately kissing your way over the arches, his ankles, and up his calves, up every perfect part of him. You pay attention closely to these spots you’ve never really explored before, listening and watching him carefully. When his breath catches, or he hisses in through his teeth, you know it’s extra sensitive, and of course, when his mouth falls open and his eyes roll back you know you’ve hit the jackpot.

You take your sweet time working up his muscled legs, bringing up and opening his knees to give you more access to what you are finding is the highly sensitive flesh of his inner thighs. Warmth rolls through you when you nip there, very close to his balls and he nearly jumps off the bed.

“Stay still and be good, baby boy,” you purr at him with a sly smile against his leg, and he whines in protest but stills himself. You think it’s high time you give him some well garnered attention to his large, heavy testicles. His musky scent fills your nostrils, setting your biological need for him on fire. You wiggle a little on your knees with anticipation but since you aren’t sure exactly what he likes or what his boundaries are yet, you want to make sure he has an out.

“Baby,” you say seriously, looking into his eyes, “if you really want me to stop, like really, I need you to tell me, okay? Say…” You stop, looking around for inspiration, something he would never say in the heat of the moment, and then your eyes land. Perfect.

“Say ‘pink scarf’ if you really want me to stop baby, okay?” you urge.

Elvis nods, looking excited and also a little concerned at the prospect of what you might do to him to require him to use such a phrase. “Pink scarf, got it,” he breathes.

With that, you feel better, and return your attentions down in between his legs. His cock is hard and buoyant against his pelvis, precum glistening the angry red tip that is peeking out from his lighter foreskin, but that is not what you’re going to focus on, not yet.

Using your thumbs, you apply gentle pressure to the insides of his thighs, massaging slow circles up, up, up, closer to his most sensitive areas. Lying on your stomach between his open legs, you test the waters by running your nails softly over the darkened, wrinkly skin of his ball sac.

He hisses in at that, his lower half tensing as you gently continue, using your thumb, pointer, and middle fingers to explore the area. In his arousal, his balls are pulled up tight to him, but it doesn’t detract from the fact they are still rather large compared to what you’re used to. His breathing becomes more labored as you roll his testes between your fingers, cupping them, then pulling gently.

His hips roll and wiggle. You love the effect you are having on him, the way he responds so readily under your touch, and you wonder if this is what it’s like for him when he plays with you. It sends heat of a different kind rolling through your body each time he jolts or gasps.

Which is exactly what he does when you nuzzle his sac with your nose before flattening your tongue against the seam and licking a long stripe from back to front. His hips rise off the mattress and running your hands over the crease of where his legs meet his torso, you push those famous narrow hips back down to the bed.

“Oh mama, oh mama,” he whispers quietly, almost like a begging prayer, as you continue lathing your tongue back and forth and up and down over his balls. He begins to writhe in earnest, despite your hands holding him, his legs pulling up and boxing you in.

“Be still,” you command, lifting your head, pushing his bent legs back open.

He obeys instantly, looking down at you with wild, shining eyes, nodding almost unconsciously in reply, as if preparing himself for whatever you deem to do next.

You use your hands again, one to push his legs up, tilting him towards you, the other rolling him like dice, before lifting his sac enough to lick the underside completely. Taking inspiration from his playbook, you then flick down over his taint, applying pressure with your tongue, his musky scent consuming you.

He moans long and loud at that, unable to contain himself as you shower this newly found spot with all your attention. As you lick and press and roll, he mewls and begins to shudder. Your heart beats faster against your ribcage at his reactions, how he pants above you, and you wonder what will happen if you press your thumb to that softer spot right above his puckered hole.

So you do. You press that spot over and over and watch him tremble and writhe until he looks damn well possessed.

“Please, oh please, oh GOD!” he cries out and eventually his entire body tenses, hips lifting as though he were coming inside you, and he shudders wildly before falling hard back onto the bed. Heart pounding, you lift your head to see a milky white leak from his tip. It’s not cum in the sense you are used to, but some sort of release nevertheless.

You’re not one hundred percent sure what just happened, but you are pleased you made him feel so good. You watch him lying there, gasping from pleasure, his hands clenching and releasing against their bonds, trying to recover from whatever that was. His face is flushed red, making the blue of his arousal-darkened eyes look almost preternatural, and tears leak, dampening his dark lashes. He looks positively bewildered.

“Good job, baby boy,” you praise him, kissing the inside of his knee.

“Wh-wh-what w-was that, mama?” he gasps, asking.

“That ever happen before?” you respond, curious, instead of answering him.

He shakes his head, his hair flopping as it lolls from side to side.

“Hmm…well, did it feel good, baby?” you ask because you aren’t entirely sure what happened, but you don’t let him know that. You don’t let him know about your own fresh arousal that’s leaking down the sides of your thighs or how your heart is fluttering in your throat at the sight of him such a mess before you. Not yet.

He nods furiously, eyes unfocused.

You smile at the blissed-out look on his face. You crawl up him to give his open lips a little kiss. “Mama’s not done with you yet, baby boy,” you whisper against his lips before pulling back.

His dreamy eyes go wide, but you don’t dwell, instead making haste to kiss down his chest once more, stopping to tongue and scrape his nipples with your teeth, making him jump underneath you once again. You kiss down the flat planes of his belly, detouring to give a little attention to his bound hands, sucking a digit or two into your mouth on the way down.

He fully shivers at that, moaning, sending a thrill of your own down to your toes. His belly is already heaving again with anticipation as you arrive at your next destination. His length bounces as his stomach moves, the milky white having leaked onto his belly, but whatever release he’d had did not affect the hardness of his cock, much to your pleasure.

Your goal here is to worship and tease, rather than the ways you’d had him in your mouth before. The way he’d fucked down into your throat both gently and harshly prior to this was not going to be his experience this time. No, this time is all about giving him a night he’s unlikely to ever forget. It is about claiming him as your own while showering him with love and attention on your terms. You’ve never had that before, not truly, and oh how sweet you are finding it already…

First, all you do is hover over his cock, so closely that he can feel your hot breath against him as you run your open mouth up and down his shaft. He squirms his hips from left to right, his hands fisting, and you can sense how it is taking everything in him not to buck up into you.

“Mamaaaa…need y-you,” he begs.

This makes you smirk coyly.

“Hush, baby,” you admonish him with a furrowed brow, stilling his hips again with your hands. “Be a patient good boy and you’ll get what you need.” Eventually…you think smugly.

He can only manage a whimper in response.

Finally, you place soft, barely there kisses up his shaft, feeling his rapid pulse through the throbbing veins. His foreskin awaits and you kiss gently around it, and it must be very sensitive because he’s fully gasping now, quiet “uh, uh, uhs” escaping his lips. Using only your tongue, you dip it into and under the foreskin, swirling it around the head.

“Oh, oh, no, t-too much, too much, mama!” he half moans-half cries, nearly levitating off the bed, but you don’t stop, instead sucking the tip of him into your mouth and soothing the head with your tongue.

You look up at the man you are in love with, in all his messy ecstasy, as tears stream down the sides of his pretty face, but he does not say the words, only sighing at this little bit of relief you give him. So, you continue, after this moment of reprieve, sending your tongue up and down his shaft, then kissing and tonguing his sensitive tip as though it were a dripping ice cream cone on a hot summer day.

“Please, please, please,” Elvis pants out of that wonderous and full mouth of his. By the time you use your hand to fondle his balls again, he is so fully enraptured, staring up into the mirrors above you, that you’re not sure he’s even on the same plane as you anymore.

God, it has you nearly coming undone yourself to see him like this, bringing him closer and closer to the edge without letting him fall over. You find yourself pressing your thighs together, desperate for your own friction.

His gorgeous eyes flutter down to you as you once again tongue his tip. “B-bein’ good, m-mama, please, needju,” he whimpers, his words slurring together.

“Bein’ so good, baby boy,” you praise him, then you take him fully into your mouth, pumping once, twice, and then you feel his entire body tense and shake.

“F-f-fuuuuckkk,” he groans gutturally, his hips bucking into your throat, coming completely undone nearly instantly. His eyes roll back into his head, beads of sweat mixing with the tears down his face, and the prominent vein in his neck pulses in time with his salty, thick release. It coats your tongue, and you swallow him down readily before gently lathing your tongue over the tip of his sex. He squirms under you, rocked and hypersensitive as you pop off him.

“Thank you, mama,” he whispers, looking so relieved and sex drunk that you are beside yourself now. Every nerve ending inside you is on fire. Before he can soften, you climb onto his lap, lining him up with your entrance and sliding him through your soaking folds and into your heat.

Elvis’ eyes widen in shock and he wiggles his hips down into the mattress as if trying to escape. little “ah ah ah!” puffs come from his lips, like he’s handling a hot potato.

“M-mama, ah, ah! I-I-I can’t,” he shakes his head before slamming it back onto the bed.

“Oh, you can, baby boy, you can, I promise,” you say breathlessly, relishing the feel of him filling you, even though he’s beginning to soften slightly. You roll your hips in his lap. “You’re gonna keep being such a good boy and make me come, right, baby?” you encourage demurely, hooking enough into his ego and his need to please you to keep him going.

All you know is that you need him, need to keep him inside you, to have him fill you up, even if you have to wait.

The noise that comes from him is somewhere between a groan and a growl, his eyes screwing shut for a moment as he tries to compose himself enough to continue. You still, placing your hands on his chest, and wait for his response.

“How about this? You’ve been so good for mama. I’m gonna take this scarf off you and you use those hands to show me some love while we wait,” you say.

That has him opening those glassy, pretty eyes of his and nodding.

“Mama’s gonna keep makin’ you feel real good, don’t you worry now, baby,” you tut at him, untying the knots at his wrists. The silk yields easily. You lean forward on top of his chest and throw it around his neck.

Elvis rolls his wrists a few times then wraps his arms around your back, holding you fast to him while he continues to breathe heavily. The feeling of being draped on him and held in his long arms sends an almost wholesome warmth through your body. Oh, how you missed being close to him like this. It’s almost as if you didn’t know it until this very second, that string that has been pulling you two together for so long finally loosening as you fall unencumbered into each other’s arms.

After a long moment, he calms and his hands start roaming slowly over your back. You can feel the cool of his rings against your fiery skin and it sends shivers through you. You feel starved for him, hence your desperate need to have him inside you and to show him with every fiber of your being that you will be all he ever needs from here on out.

You hum softly, pleased, when his hands find your ass, your hips, and you swivel them. He is soft inside you for the moment, at least, and you feel the sharp intake of breath at your movements, his hands gripping you to keep you still.

Still sensitive, you think.

His hands flutter up and down your sides then, softly enough to make you want more. You can hear his heart pounding in his chest, the rhythm beginning to match yours the longer you stay intertwined. This is what you’ve been missing, needing, all along. Him vulnerable and sated under you. Knowing that you are the only one he truly wants. Knowing that it’s been that way for almost as long as you’ve known him.

“Say it again,” you whisper into his neck, kissing his pulse points.

It only takes him a moment to understand what you are asking.

“I love you,” he whispers.

“Mmmm,” you hum, kissing your way up his strong, angular jaw to his lips. “Again.”

“I love you.” It rumbles in his chest so you can feel it vibrate into yours.

Each time he says it, it dances through you, lighting up all the dark spaces that were so afraid and convinced he would never feel the same.

You kiss his lips, softly at first, then deepening as your own love pours out of you and into him.

His hands are everywhere now, one tangling in your hair, the other snapping the clasp of your bra undone. Your mouths separate just long enough for you to rip off the lace and fling it to the side. The feel of his bare chest against yours makes you feel like you are melting into him. Your mouths are unhurried but intense, tongues exploring, devouring each other whole.

“I love you,” you say into his mouth, voice hushed and reverent.

He pauses for a moment, pulling back just enough for you to get lost in the oceanic depths of his eyes as they gaze at you adoringly, as if memorizing your features. “I’m yours,” he says. Then he pulls you back down to him, his mouth consuming you once more.

You’re not sure how long you lay there, kissing, touching, exploring each other as if it were the first time, but it is long enough that you feel him begin to stiffen inside of you once more, just as you knew he would. Slowly, you begin to rock on top of him, your hands and lips tracing his Apollo-like features. Your fingers rake through his raven hair, damp with sweat from the exertion.

Elvis’ hands cup your face, your neck, tangling through your hair, caressing your breasts. He touches you reverently, though as your passions increase, his hands light streams of fire over your skin wherever they deem to touch. A heated coil tightens again in your belly, more gradually this time, but deep all the same.

The room is quiet, save for the heavy breathing that has synced between the two of you, a hushed feeling that matches the intensity of your lovemaking. His deep gaze threatens to consume you from below as you ride him, and every cell in your body is being called to his.

He fills you in ways no one ever has and as no one ever could. Perhaps he was made just for you, you think, with how perfectly you align. You realize that this is the first time you’ve had him with all your memories intact. Every moment the two of you have had since the beginning now swells between you, a now shared history that makes this moment all the more poignant.

You are lost in the depths of him just as much as he is lost in you. You can see it now, so obviously, and you wonder how you spend so very long without him. Beyond his talent, beyond his gorgeousness, lies that both human yet ethereal man, and he is wonderful and he is flawed, and he is finally yours.

He expertly touches your sensitive bud, sending you careening towards the edge of an abyss that once frightened you. Because of course this was never just about sex, though your brain tried to trick you, making you forget that your love for him started so very long ago. But what terrified you six weeks ago now feels ripe with possibility. What made you feel trapped has now been set free. And as that coil snaps and you fracture above him, it allows your true self to emerge for the first time in a very long time.

“I love you, Elvis,” you breathe, locking eyes with him as you fall, knowing he will be there to catch you.

Your moan of pleasure, his name a whispered prayer on your lips, coupled with the sight of you has him following right behind you, all his years of fear and guilt splintering into pieces along with the most intense orgasm he has ever had.   

“I love you, y/n,” he returns in equal measure.

You collapse into his arms, unaware of the tears on your face until you feel them wetting the pink scarf that somehow remains around his neck. Elvis holds you to him, his fingers twirling the ends of your hair, not just with possessiveness and control, but with unfettered love. There is aways to go between the two of you in your relationship, now that you remember everything that has happened, but you have no doubt that the two of you will figure it all out, together this time.

For the first time in forever, you feel truly at peace.

Finally, you are exactly where you need to be.

With the man you love eternally, who loves you just as much.

Here, with Elvis.

*

Please let me know in the comments/DMs/asks if you are interesting in buying a physical and/or ebook of Pink Scarf (with bonus chapters/material)! 💗🧣💗

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[softdomhailie]

Hey, do you know of any more blogs that do writing similar to yours? I'm especially on the hunt for the sort of softer kinky stuff with lots of checkins and encouragement. Sadly, the tags for soft kink are completely swamped with sadly not so soft posts so I'm having a hard time finding blogs to follow.

Hi, thank you for the ask :)! I hope you're having a lovely day ^_^ Yknow, I absolutely feel you. I honestly don't follow many blogs that are totally soft without something else being peppered in. A lot of blogs I follow are quite mixed, but also I get most of my comfort in this sort of area from fanfiction, so my fav blogs are all fanfic blogs! If you are into Witcher - I have a list as long as my arm 🤣

I totally agree with you though, if anyone has any recs, please, please feel free to reblog and add stuff here because I am on the look out too!

Rest of this reply has mentions of food, feeding, praise for eating, soft feedism kink rec :)

One blog comes to mind for me here right enough, it's a specific kink blog: @likebreadandwine . This is a blog described as "encouragement to folks who like to eat too much" - I got recommended this blog by a friend a few years back and I think that any kink writing that encourages self love and encouragement is just so wonderful. I didn't think this kink was going to be something I would enjoy, to keep it vague, because of my own unhealthy relationship with food & mental health and how this kink is shown to people on tv/film etc. My friend who recommended some fics then recommended this blog, and it was such a great recommendation. I am someone who just loves cooking and seeing how people feel when they eat something that I have made, and the link up between enjoying what you're eating and sharing that with someone where you heap on praise. I also feel like there's sentimental value in passing down recipes and there's something so powerful about relating a dish to a person, like "hey have you tried x's recipe?" and it brings your whole body comfort? I just love it. It really opened my mind to how intimate things like hand feeding someone is. Softly caressing someone's tummy after they've eaten the most delicious thing. Feeling sleepy and cuddling together after eating. Being spoiled with lots of lovely treats. Going for dinner and encouraging someone to enjoy themselves, eat what they want and more! The body positivity mixed with kink is just so lovely. A nice example: Feedee being treated like a "beloved treasure" and how proud they are of them [link]

-

If anyone has any special blogs they'd like to tag that are general soft kink or specific kinks - reblog and tag them.

Reassurance, praise, encouragement and intimacy written through kink can be so incredible and safe for people. And you can explore feelings that are much easier to explore when writing/reading this stuff. I really do think it can be so powerful for inner love and self care - in my own opinion >.<

🌈⭐🌈⭐🌈⭐

[putschki1969]

Live Title & Promo Visuals Revealed

To commemorate the 5th Anniversary of Wakana’s solo debut, a special band live will be held for the first time in 3 years! The official title for the live was announced today!

Title: 『Wakana 5th Anniversary Live ～The “VOICE” Stories～』 Date: May 12, 2024 ◆1st Stage◆ Open 14:45 / Start 15:30 ◆2nd Stage◆ Open 18:15 / Start 19:00 Venue: I’M A SHOW (capacity: 398 seats) Starring: Wakana, Satoshi Takebe (Music Director/Piano), etc. 【Ticket price】 All seats reserved 8,500円 ※An additional 600円 drink fee will be charged at the venue Advanced Ticket Lottery: March 11~March 17 General Sale: March 30~

Botanical Land Post | Instagram Post | Tweet

2024/03/08 Instagram post by Wakana

I went to a wonderful studio the other day🌿 It was a lovely room with lush greenery and plenty of light. It was fun to fantasise about where I would place my furniture if I lived there 😌💕(Source)

2024/03/10 Blog post by Wakana おしゃべりガーデン第7回目‼︎〜卒業とチョコチップと「The “VOICE” Stories」〜

❗This is Fan Club EXCLUSIVE content❗ ❗PERSONAL USE ONLY❗ ❗Do NOT SHARE on other sites❗ ❗Join her FAN CLUB! Check out my detailed TUTORIAL ❗

Talk Garden Vol.7!! ~Graduation, Chocolate Chips, and 「The “VOICE” Stories」 ~

The 7th episode of "Wakana's Talk Garden" has been uploaded! Thank you for sending me your "graduation memories"~(((o(*ﾟ▽ﾟ*)o))) Maybe the topic was a bit tricky this time so there weren't a lot of submissions🤣 But I definitely related to a lot of your stories about things that you want to graduate from and finally leave behind 😭✨ (I certainly want to get rid of my late-night cravings for Korean food)

By the way, I was surprised that I couldn't recall which song our choir was singing at one of my graduation ceremonies even though I was sure that I would remember such a detail. I vividly remember singing at the graduation ceremony as a member of my junior high school choir. I had a pretty loud voice but most of the other members were rather quiet so I would always hide somewhere in the back because otherwise I would stand out too much with my singing😂 (Sorry teacher, please forgive the antics of an adolescent). However, back then there was a boy in our local boys' and girls' choir and he would always make sure to sing with a loud and firm voice. I looked up to him with great respect and thought he was incredibly courageous, he honestly was my hero✨😂 (I was still hiding in the back but he encouraged me to sing with all my might) All the parents mentioned that they were amazed by how well our voices could be heard (*´-`) Despite all of that, I totally forgot what song it was 🤣🤣 That's the most important part! ! *laughs* Oh well, that's how life is...(I'll ask a friend next time💌)

Before I read all of your graduation stories , I went on a tangent about Baskin-Robins ice cream. It went on for quite some time so please be prepared! ! 😂 It was about my favourite chocolate chip ice cream which I had to get as soon as it came out! ♡ it was my first time in years to eat this flavour ♡ (If you add your favourite ice cream flavour in the Baskin-Robins app, you'll receive a notification when it's released). I also tried the newly released matcha brownie flavour 🍨 It was so delicious! 😳 But for some reason...I can't really recommend this particular combination of flavours🤣 It’s better to eat them individually!!👍

Well, the next talk theme is... there will be NO talk theme! 😂 I feel like everyone was having a hard time thinking of stories for the talk themes🥺 I didn't intend to inconvenience anyone...😇Please forgive me...😇 So next time, just throw some random messages at me! Don't even think about it, no matter what it is, just submit it and let me talk about it. So if you have anything you want to ask me or want me to talk about, please don't hesitate! ＼＼\\٩( 'ω' )و //／／ Really anything is fine! 🤗💕 I’ll be waiting💕

Also, the official title for my upcoming 5th Anniversary Live has been announced✨ The full title is Wakana 5th Anniversary Live ~The “VOICE” Stories~! The title of my first tour after my solo debut was ``VOICE'', it was about having my “voice” heard and expressing my “voice”. Back then, there were so many things that felt new to me, and I'm sure it was the same for all of you. Five years have passed since then and I have come across several new "voices" within me. New thoughts and feelings were born within my heart and expressed through my "voice". And of course I've been supported by the voices of encouragement from many people throughout all these years. For these reasons, I decided to name the live The “VOICE” Stories, I want to create an environment for people to hear my new “VOICE”. I will be sharing various thoughts and sing songs from the past five years. I would be happy if you came to experience this special moment together with me. Please come to “I'M A SHOW” in Yurakucho on May 12th! ! The live promo visual has also been released🤗✨

All right, that’s it for today! Until next time~☆( *'▽'*)/

＊＊＊Wakana＊＊＊

Wakana’s Talk Garden #7

❗This is Fan Club EXCLUSIVE content❗ ❗PERSONAL USE ONLY❗ ❗Do NOT SHARE on other sites❗ ❗Join her FAN CLUB! Check out my detailed TUTORIAL ❗

Episode #7 »»—— CLICK ME 🎁 CLICK ME ——««

Vol 7 Topic “Memories of Graduation”

For next month’s episode which is scheduled to air on April 10th, the topic is “Something I Want to Ask Wakana/Something I Want Wakana to Talk About” The submission deadline is 03/31.

[honeyhotteoks]

i think a bit back you mentioned not being open to fic recommendations (and im not entirely sure if you read member/member fics) but you mentioned how close to your heart priest yunho is and it would be literal sin if i did not even mention this regency era, clergy, omegaverse, angst hurt-comfort yungi fic i read. its a wild set of tags (and honestly thats what drew me in ugh) but i promise it all works out. genuinely has some of the most gut wrenching lines on earth, ala "my love for god was shaped my love for you." which like ow that hurts! i wont link it cuz id hate to feel pushy but again, sin to not mention it

also i think you should reblog whatever you like - it is your blog at the end of the day and if you would like to mix fandoms i say go for it! your recommendations have always been fun so i trust you

hi hi! first off..... please my god send me that?????

also as far as fic recs go..... i'm super open to them actually, i just feel a little bad if someone recs me something that i didn't like or wasn't super into it, especially if i don't repost it. but that's probably me being an overthinker lol, so i'm okay if people send me recs i just don't want anyone to be bummed if i don't get to it or don't share it out if it's not my fave.

the other thing is that i used to get a lot of people popping up in my DMs/asks to share their own writing with me, which sounds really nice but ultimately ended up being the person asking for feedback or workshopping advice, which is something i'm not comfortable doing. i certainly support other writers, but i'm not the kind of fic writer who does beta work / workshopping anymore, it's way too much of a time sink unfortunately

but i def read member/member, though i do have "ships" i prefer more than others tbh. if i'm reading ships it's mostly yunho paired with anyone (lol) or woosan or sanhwa. i just don't write member/member exclusively b/c i feel a little more comfortable writing from pov or afab perspective.

anyways, thanks so much for sending this because i def want to read it!! also just wanted to use this to clarify a couple things so other people feel comfortable sending stuff in too. ty!!

[gummybugg]

Writer Questions Tag!

Thanks for the tag, @tabswrites! Find her post here. I did do this tag at some point, but I wanted to restart!

I'm gonna leave this as a fully Open tag. If anyone wants, they can say I tagged them!

...

[1] What is your absolute all-time favorite idea you’ve ever had?

Forcing myself to write more via peer pressure & to maintain a highly Positive blog to foster confidence in my writing. But also, I would say my wip Crater City, because I just like going Wild writing it. I don't have to hold back my imagination, I just use whatever comes to mind create a new path. I promise it's not as chaotic as that sounds because there is a sound plot, but I give a lot of wiggle room. Very refreshing, and it's a stark contrast to writing essays all day.

[2] Is there a question you’ve been asked in the past that really stands out to you, and you still think about sometimes?

Not a question! But! Every time there’s a song playing and my little sister says “I’m assigning that song to your character.” (And then I tell her it’s on the character’s playlist already, ehehehe) I’m just very passionate about my characters, that’s the moral of the story :’)

[3] What is your favorite part of being a writer? What parts could you take or leave?

I’ll hit you with the double-edged sword called “I got the best idea for a scene at 3 am but I’m sooo tired, but it’s sooo gonna be worth it!” (Yet I never regret doing it)

[4] What is your greatest motivation to write/create?

Probably writing stories that are a culmination of my favorite stories. At least, that's what Crater City is so far. Not a copy, of course, but if all of my favorite apocalyptic/sci-fi media had a child, that's what it would be!

There’s a handful or 2 of some sci-fi webtoons I really adore reading! I would recommend books too, if only I could read them in a timely manner. Comics are just easier for me to consume for the time being.

[5] What is the best piece of advice you’ve ever read or been given as a writer?

Write what excites you and don't worry too much about if others think it's cringe. I’ve seen so many reddit threads of people asking if they can put [insert trope] in their writing, and I wish I could just scream at them: DO IT! IT’S YOUR WRITING! DO WHATEVER YOU WANT! You know there’s gotta be some people out there who’s interested in your story if at least one person you know is into it (You).

[6] What do you wish you knew when you were first starting out writing?

I wish I knew I didn't have to live up to the same expectations my family/others have for my writing. I'm an adult & can write whatever I want! I don't really feel the pressing weight of expectations to please others through my writing as much anymore, unless it's some form of commission/assignment. My characters can be gay, mentally ill, what have you, and I'm lucky I get the freedom to write them how I please.

[7] What is your favorite story you’ve written to completion? Link it if you’d like and can!

I wish I could but alas, I struggle to finish my thoughts in day-to-day life.

[8] What is your favorite out-of-the-box quote?

From one of my English professors, grading my essay: “This analogy doesn’t work here.” Here’s another one: “?????” They’re so silly, I swear.

[9] Which of your characters would you say has the most controversial mindset? Why do you say so, and how do you personally feel about their ideals?

At some point I said Darcy, but I’m feeling spicy today and I’m gonna go with Frasier today (both from my wip Crater City). I think everyone in that story is controversial because I kind of made everyone Unhinged. Well, as they say, “Oops, my bad.”

Anyway, the law isn’t the most important thing to Frasier, as he will do anything to make sure he gets his way. At some point (or maybe not yet) I mentioned how Blair and Elijah are lowkey like Frasier’s godchildren, so you can guarantee he’d use his mayor-assistant powers to make sure they’re safe. Many of the Crater City characters (except Darcy, I think) don’t really care about others outside their relationships, so the traumatic consequences of murder and destruction aren’t at the forefront of their minds.

It really makes me ask myself sometimes what defines a villain. Darcy is running around trying to save humanity by any means necessary (even to the point of merging humans with machines), while the rest of the cast just wants to live selfishly in the moment because they’re not promised a tomorrow. Truly interesting how things are developing. I think it makes them more human, but what do you think?

[10] If you, when you first started writing, met you now, what would younger you think?

My younger self would be surprised I had the potential to get this far. Sometimes it’s very hard to begin writing again, but as soon as I just start, I remember what it’s like to have fun writing!

[nonhumanwithin]

Hil I'm here to ask for some advice, I thought this would be a good blog to send this ask to. Sorry if it's really long, I just wanted to explain everything in detail :]

So, I've been feeling really like a character lately. Let's call them X.

I feel very connected to X, while listening to music related to their media I though "something happened to my parents. Auntie and Uncle took care of me". The thought surprised me because i usually don't think of myself as a character even if I feel so connected to them. It was completely involuntary and to be clear, in the media X come from, their parents were never mentioned (not yet, at least).

I've been doing my research, even if every label i read about does not fit. Fictionflicker? I've never felt this way before and I should wait a lot to see. Fictionkin? I'm unsure about this one because it's something very new for me. Fictionhearted? As I said before I do not identify with X, it happened that i thought of them using "I" and that I thought something that's not canon.

Like, I'm sure that thing i thought happened, it's something i know deep down in my heart, no matter the information available never mention it. I really can't understand what I'm feeling and what's happening to me.

Could you please give me some advice on how to understand/deal with this? Or maybe some advice on how to find a label that fits, or even your personal opinion on what my brain is doing!

Thanks♡

-🦊☀️

Hi! It sounds like you are experiencing noemata but unsure what your connection is to this character? Noemata (feeling an innate headcanon or "this seems right", usually about a kintype- exactly what you described!) isn't necessarily a kin thing. I've heard it being used for otherhearted people and I'm sure it can be experienced by just about anyone. The cause of it I guess depends on your view and beliefs; if you believe you had a past life as X or think it's just a subconscious headcanon that manifested as a result of your own personal life experiences! It could also be possible that you have a fictotype with someone else from that source and have that knowledge about X from an outside perspective.

You say you feel like X, and I think you should explore that feeling more! Do you feel like them but don't see yourself as them? That would align more with fictionhearted. Do you feel like you were them once but don't identify with them anymore? That could be a previous past life that didn't translate to a fictotype in your current life. Or do you think you do have some identity connection with X but the feelings haven't fully developed yet, either because it's all new to you or you have some subconscious bias against wanting to be fictionkin? It's common for a lot of 'kin to doubt it at the start because they're afraid of seeming "cringe", which is silly but unfortunately society has conditioned us to be afraid of branching out and being weird!

Looking up the definitions of labels is all well and good, but imo the best way to research fictionkin and fictionhearted is to read the experiences of those people! (It sounds like you haven't done that yet?) I don't have any resources I can recommend off the top of my head, but if you're struggling to find them you can ask again and I'll try my best to help :)

[celestialtarot11]

https://www.tumblr.com/celestialtarot11/735612557921009664/greetings-im-a-may-i-please-know-what-does?source=share

First off all, nice to meet you too dear Mod ❤️ I'm going to be super honest with you - unfortunately at the moment I don't have any card given that I don't work yet and "coincidentally" just today I talked about it with my family. Since you are a kind and talented soul I'd love to tip you at least in the future when I'll make my own Tumblr blog and gain my own money. Meanwhile I'll leave you this well deserved feedback and hope it will help 🤗

First of all, I'm enchanted by your reading and how everything that you picked resonated with me, like everything. Not to mention today I casually checked an app (AstroMatrix - I recommend) and my tarot card was literally 2 OF CUPS, the one you got in your reading, I screamed!!!

This made me so happy because I know what you're talking about and who this person is (again, the way it resonated still gives me chills). And yes, I think I've been manifesting him (hope he did too) because no matter how I tried to 'move on' I always came back to him and that's how I realized that he is connected to me. I still have to develop my intuition ngl but when it comes to this person it just magically wake up to tell me "don't give up on him". The crazy thing is that at first I didn't even know who he was, I was just chilling with my other crush and I suddenly fell into this man's world like it just happened and never experienced such powerful connection with anyone, so yes it deeply resonated straight into my heart like no other readings (no hate, I know there are other wonderful readers like you). I don't mind anymore if he wants to start as a friend to me I'd welcome him with my open arms. What matters is that I have him next to me (not necessarily physically) I want him to be happy with me and proud. I know how much hate he gets everyday yet he doesn't deserve it, hence if I can make his life better I'd feel fulfilled because I love him.

You mentioned that he's connected to me in a psychic, spiritual, emotional way. Indeed we have 12th and 8th synastry & North Node/Saturn/Pluto conjunctions (if it counts) 🥺

Finally, bless your gift/s because everything you've said, from A to Z, for the nth time resonated deeply with me. Thank You and Spirits so much for this and from the bottom of my heart I hope my feedback will help you gain way more followers/clients, you truly deserve it, Mod and I'll gladly recommend you to those I know looking for good talented readers.💖

ps. sorry for the essay and eventual grammar errors since English is not my first language 😅

Thank you so much for this beautiful review 🤗💘 Im honestly so happy and thankful it resonated for you on such a deep level! 🤍 And thats so interesting your connection to him! I definitely had my share of intuitive connections to be able to understand what you mean. And dont worry about the spelling errors I understood you just fine. And I honestly truly appreciate your support 🤗🙌 I wish you the best when it comes to working and trusting your intuition 🤝💗 so nice to have met you

[tirednerd]

instant gratification? or something more

a point on motivation for things that sit on the fringe of things I like.

I have a big family, and a set of cousins nearby that we often go on holiday with. One of the best ones was to Romania.

We did a trek across the country from Cluj Napoca to Bucharest, we had planned stops on our route down. I would go into it more right now- but I will just edit this later with the information. I don't need another excuse of a long-winded piece of shit I start to keep myself away from studying even longer than I already have.

Either way, it was my second time planning a trip like this from flights to accommodation etc. I had my own interests in the trip but had such little understanding of why I enjoyed it so much - it wasn't without its issues but even looking out on it now I still think of it favourably. which I don't for the last one we did in Prague- the less said about the better.

Only looking back onto it now do I see that I had picked Dracula up as a special interest, but like not in the vampire way. like in the guy who it was based off XD Vlad III, Prince of Wallachia.

Not only did solidify himself randomly into a number of my favourite harry potter fanfictions, but please see an aunts love, by emma lipardi and make a wish by rorschans blot. It's a normal thing to have on your mind - ok? Either way landing in Transylvania and going to Bran Castle scratched that itch so well.

I also like any normal 21-year-old I had picked up some summer reading for my holiday, mine just happened to be Dante's Inferno, of course. The voivode also had a couple of books on Dante as well - those being Papini's Dante Vivo, which was amazing at the time. I felt connected XD (delusional gworl!!)

(image 1, photo taken by me. Shows the glass-covered bookcase found in Bran castle in Romania. The castle that housed Vlad III, prince of Wallachia, known as Vlad the Impaler and used as inspiration for Dracula. The picture shows a number of cloth-bound books including the one mentioned previously, Papino's Dante Vivo, a biography of Dante)

Anyway, I had an amazing time on holiday, and Vlad the impaler, in all his political moves and the dramatisations the modern world has done with him and his name kept my interest and I had a fabulous time. Would 100% go again and I would recommend a visit to Bran castle if you are ever in the area.

My parents have only ever brought me like merch twice for me in my life. Once was a t-shirt for bran castle bought as we lined up to enter. the other was a zip-up hoodie for CERN which was another trip I planned and hustled our group of 13 to the border so I could see CERN... All the way from Zurich mind you, the opposite side of the country.

Looking back on my life and being able to rename the often wide-ranging and insane lengths I went through for special interests has been wild. But also enlightening - I mean for fucks sake - I literally made an entire blog about self-appointed homework as I was genuinely honestly researching alpha particle treatments in Europe for an essay. In the middle of the fucking summer. Because see I was in so far deep with my particle physics special interest.

So yeah! I hope you enjoyed this! its utterly useless in regards to information, usefulness or anything really but the reality of recognising and reevaluating growing up knowing NOW that I have ADHD/Autism is insane. Like why didn't anyone fucking help me? BWHAHAHA

what the hell is life man

PS> This entire post coming out as a form of critical commentary on my lack of motivation to study is wild. I am indeed struggling to feel anything regarding my upcoming exams, and it is insane. It's not that I am not worried, I VERY MUCH AM. but I am not freaking out or doing anything and it is killing me.

[a-weird-cryptid]

Hey uh. As a system who read Elle(s). Please don't advertise as a comic about a girl with DID. That's not what she has. You can say it can be interpreted as DID but it is not about DID

SPOILERS FOR ISSUE 2

it's revealed that she was in the womb with 5 other embryos. And that they merged into her. That's not how DID works. As a system that sought out this comic after seeing this post, I did feel like it was a bit of a slap in the face. It's not your fault the comic falls into some actual misinformation but I feel like it was never meant to be about did

I think issue 1 leans into the DID coding a lot and I was very excited for issue 2. I think it's very DID coded but stating that its explicitly about DID is a bit inaccurate

Thanks for the criticism!

(Don't worry, I'll leave my comment spoiler free. But if you want to know what it's referring to, I'd recommend reading the spoiler section to the comment I'm reacting to, to get a basic idea.)

Again, I'm only half way through the first volume and I sadly didn't know that that's revealed in the second book. I can't tell my own opinion on it, because of the same reason, but I most likely will when I get there.

I wasn't intending to advertise Elles and I'm sorry if I accidentally did. The post was ment to be a simple, subjective review about the part of the graphic novel I've read so far. Since I'm new on this app and I wanted to try out a new type of post, to see what my audience would most likely want to see more of.

And I'm extremely sorry if I made anyone upset because I posted this review, not knowing that the series would end up being misinformative.

I def didn't expect the post to blow up that much. But since it did, I see it as my responsibility to correct this mistake, even if I didn't made it, nor could have known about it until I now. (If this person didn't made this comment to put my attention to it, I still wouldn't be aware of it. Again, thank you a lot. I think it's really important to stop spreading misinformation as soon as you see it.)

I can't really judge the accuracy of this reveal, because I'm NOT a mental health professional or similar, nor somebody suffering from DID (as far as I'm aware). But based of my own research, it's def misinformative and a mistake the writer (or whoever is responsible for the basic story) of this comic made. And I won't defend them for doing so, just because I like Elles so far.

DID is NOT formed like shown in the second comic. Instead, it's formed by extreme, repeated childhood trauma (most of the time of sexual nature) before the age of about 8. (And that's already simplified.) I most likely won't give my own, "full", explanation of this dissociative disorder on my blog. Unless there's a high demand. Since they're many ACTUAL systems and mental health professionals who did that WAY better than I ever could, already.

I will correct my post to make all of that more clear. But I won't take the it down, simply because of the positive feedback I got from the DID community. Which I assume means that it's still a good comic for DID representation. At least when it comes to the first comic book.

As well as the fact that, when searching about "Elles", most reviews, as well as real advertisement for this comic talk about different "personalities". Which is another term often used instead of "alter", as far as I know. I even saw some websites straight up stating she has undiagnosed DID. Which, in combination with the rest of the story, lead me to the conclusion that it most likely is about it nonetheless. Or at least it is suppose to be. Accurate or not.

Which makes it all the more disappointing to find out about the reveal in the second novel, in my opinion. I think it's such a "missed out" and rare opportunity to NOT show what DID is actually all about. And how it's formed. I thought they didn't mention it in any kind of way so far, simply because it's undiagnosed and noone really knows abt it. So I was hoping there'd be some kind of "big reveal" later. A few panels or even just simple sentences could have been enough to depict it more accurate, without accidentally triggering sb. Or making it less kid/ya friendly.

[sh0ek0]

after hours (part 2)

please find the other parts via my masterlist or the #sh0ek0 tag, I'm having some trouble with my posts not showing up in the tags and I think the links are messing this up

genre: angst, smut, dark content, kinda all over the place content warning: 18+ !MINORS + AGELESS BLOGS DO NOT INTERACT! mentions of alcohol and drug use, name calling, toxic relationship, abusive relationship, violence, emotional abuse, choking, rough!megumi, slapping, threatening with a gun, Russian roulette, manic kinda episode, I should honestly stop romanticizing this kinda behavior, still: probably more but I am new to this pairing: Megumi x Reader word count: about 6.5k

summary: After Megumi beat up Choso at Yuji's and his houseparty, you're left drunk, high and confused. You start looking for him and remember an incident from your past before you sneak out of the apartment to meet up with your abusive ex, trying to rekindle your toxic relationship.

I'm so sorry this second part took me so long. Again: I don't want to talk myself down and I love writing, it's so much fun but I am very critical of myself and I really think this is trash compared to all the other amazing writing on here. So, THANK YOU SO MUCH for bearing with me and hyping me up. Every single like I got on 'heartbeat' really made my day <3 (I am terrified of posting so brb logging off for a few days help)

recommended songs: Formula - Labrinth / The Hills - The Weeknd / After Hours - The Weeknd / The Zone - The Weeknd / Streets - Doja Cat / Wicked Games - The Weeknd

You stumble through the open door onto the roof terrace. There are people staring at you and some of them seem to recognize you - you knew people were talking and you were old enough to just not care about that kinda shit anymore. They haven't been through what you've been through and if they decided to judge you? Well that was on them.

Right now you needed to find him. Megumi reacted the way he did because he loved you. You knew that. You pass by a table and a few lounge chairs and recognize the people sitting there from your college lectures. A girl, you remember her name to be Yue, waves you over. 

"Y/N! Hi, are you alright?" she asks and you can hear a tiny bit of concern in her voice as you stumble and bump into one of the chairs. 

"Hi, uh, yeah 'm fine." you answer and shoot her a smile, fumbling with the sleeves of your dress before you drop into the chair you just bumped into. Your head was spinning while you were desperately trying to process what had just happened inside but it was too much, it was too loud, too many people, too much booze. Everyone around you seemed to have the time of their lives while you were stuck inside your mind.

You reach for the half-empty bottle of vodka that was on the table in front of you and pour yourself a glass. It would definitely not help you to get any clearer in the head, but it would calm your nerves. Or at least you could just escape this mess for a few more minutes.

You put the glass to your lips and down its contents before filling it right back up. You can feel the stares of the guys sitting next to you. You never bothered to speak to anyone in your lectures and you didn't even know their names but apparently they seemed to enjoy seeing you in this state.

Under normal circumstances you wouldn't give them a single glance and you would’ve snapped at them for staring at you like this but now, as drunk as you were, you didn't even notice how far your dress had ridden up, or the spilled liquor on your cleavage. The wet fabric clung to your boobs, exposing you without really exposing you.

"Hey, slow down." Yue laughed as you down another shot, taking the bottle out of your hand. You look at her before leaning back in your chair, closing your eyes for a brief moment. 

"Listen I actually don't want to bother you any longer," you frown, unsure what to say next "just 'wanna know if you saw Gojo or Megumi I- I am looking for him." you say, unsure if Yue could understand you over the music.

Yue looks at you. You know she understood you because you can see pity in her eyes and you immediately regret asking her in the first place. You told yourself that you didn’t care but you still hated that everyone around you had their opinion about you and your relationship. No one dared to say it out loud, but everyone thought the same. Even your friends. 

"Well, I don't know where Gojo is but I saw Megumi passing by just when I came out here," She moves closer to you to pull your dress down, glaring at the two guys that were staring at you. 

"I think he left." She looks at her hands, obviously searching for the right words to say to you.

Yue leans over to you. You weren't exactly close but apparently most people on campus knew about the ups and downs in your relationship. People really liked to talk. 

"Y/N I guess your friends are really worried about you," she says gently, trying not to cross your boundaries. "You should really stop looking for him - I mean everyone saw the bruising on your neck-" 

Well, so much for not crossing boundaries. 

"Megumi would never hurt me." you protest, cutting her off.

"-people say he threatened you with a gun after an argument escalated." Yue carefully put her hand on your leg and you flinched.

"That's bullshit." you laugh, getting flustered. How could this even have spread around? You told nobody except Maki. 

"That’s not what happened." you whisper.

"You don't threaten someone you love with a gun." Yue said in a sharp voice. You look at her, completely thrown off guard. 

"Yeah and I guess you don't stick your nose in other peoples fucking business." you hiss and lean on your hands to lift yourself up out of the chair, a little bit wobbly on your feet. You grab the bottle of vodka from her hands and stumble in the direction of the terrace door.

You feel tears well up in your eyes as you remember that day a few weeks ago. It happened in your dorm room again, you just came home from another lecture. Grabbing you from behind in complete darkness, Megumi covered your mouth with his hand to keep you from screaming as he pressed cold metal to your temple. You will never forget how utterly and absolutely terrified you were. 

You will never forget the look he had in his eyes when he threw you against the wall and made you face him. You could see on his face how much he enjoyed having absolute power over you.

***

"You fucking stalking me now?" he spat at you, holding you against the wall of your dorm room by your neck. Your throat still hurt from the last time he did this to you. 

Megumi had an old revolver in the other hand and pointed it at your head. "What the fuck did you think you were doing last night? You are fucking crazy, Y/N." Your body was shaking, he sounded so angry it completely scared the shit of you.

Would you let him treat you like this for the rest of your life?

"You were fucking some other bitch last night you fucking asshole," you screamed out, cutting him off. "I fucking know it! Stop bullshitting me I fucking heard you through that door." You started crying.

"You telling me this after you sucked off some random guy at the party you were at? You fucking kidding me?" - "We just kissed an-and I was drunk-" you started explaining but got cut off as Megumi pulled you towards him by your neck before slamming your head against the wall. You let out a muffled groan.

He was still holding the gun to your temple and you were scared shitless that it would go off. 

”'We just kissed and I was drunk'” he mimicked your voice and you cried out in pain. Your head hurt, your face was scrunched up and your eyes closed. 

”You are a fucking whore, Y/N, and you don't fucking own up to your actions. You’re a fucking slut and you think you deserve to get treated like a fucking princess.” Megumi spat at you.

You started bawling. 

"At least that bitch wasn't as fucking annoying." Megumi huffed. 

"I really fucking hate you." You yelled at him. 

"Leave me alone, stop touching me." You felt a headache coming on, your head was throbbing and tears were flowing uncontrollably down your face. "I hate you."

How could you keep on doing this to yourself? You slowly came to the realization that nor you were scared of him neither you were scared of him being violent. You were simply scared about the fact that no matter what he did to you, you couldn't stop loving him.

"I know you do." Megumi answered.

He took his hand off from around your neck and you felt the cold metal leave your skin as he slowly lowered the gun. Your pulse pounded against the spot where the barrel had just been pointed at and you see the usual blank stare returning to his face. 

"You're abusive and a fucking psychopathic maniac." you cried, trying to catch some air.

He just kept staring at you with emptiness in his eyes, watching tears stream down your cheeks. 

"I hate the way you're making me feel, Megumi." you added quietly, staring at the ground.  

"I know." he said. 

You sniffled, tears still streaming down your face.

"Can't you just leave me alone already?" you said, rubbing the bruising on your throat with shaky hands. You didn't even believe yourself and the words that came out of your mouth seemed so far away. As if you were standing next to yourself and listening to some other person talking.

"That's what you want me to do?" he asked in a calm voice and lifted the gun that was still in his hand. 

No you didn't. 

Megumi opened the chamber of the revolver in his hands. You saw that it was indeed loaded when he dropped the six bullets into his hand and slipped five of them in his pocket. He then placed a single round back into the gun and spinned the cylinder with his thumb.

You stood there in silence and watched what he was doing.

He lifted the gun and held it against your forehead. You closed your eyes, unable to stop your body from shaking. You begged him to stop.

"Megumi, stop, you’re scaring me, please stop that." you pleaded. "Just leave me alone, please stop-"  

Not until you felt him pull back the gun did you dare to open your eyes. Your cheeks were wet with tears and as soon as you opened your eyes, his gaze met yours. His dark eyes looked so empty as he put the barrel to his own head. 

Your heart stopped once again.

And then he pulled the trigger.

You squealed and instantly flinched but you could only hear a silent click! - the gun didn’t go off. 

Suddenly it dawned on you what he was up to. Even if you didn't quite want to believe it, in the condition he was in right now he would have been capable of anything. Even of something as crazy as this.

And you were so fucking scared of how far he would go this time.

"Megumi- stop p-please STOP." you sobbed.

He was manic. Completely out of his mind. 

"You asked me to leave you alone." His voice eerily calm, as always. He closed his eyes and grimaced, pulling the trigger again. 

Nothing. No loud BANG! just a faint metallic click!

Watching him almost put a bullet in his head a second time had traumatized you. If he hadn't managed to do that by now, he certainly did at that moment.

"Megumi- PLEASE- please stop this." you screamed hysterically and reached out to him, your hand now touching his chest. 

"Please stop, I-I love you- I love you so much- p-please stop I don’t want you to leave me, please-" you wailed. Your body followed your hand and you leaned against him, head buried in his chest. You felt so weak, barely able to hold yourself on your feet. You sobbed and cried into his chest, staining the fabric of his sweater with salty tears. 

And you could feel that his body was shaking as well. 

You didn't dare look up at him. After a minute that felt like an eternity you finally felt his arm wrap around your waist, stone-cold metal now pressed against your back. 

Megumi’s chin was resting on top of your head and he slowly pressed his lips to you hair, inhaling your scent while planting kisses.

"Next time you ask me to leave you I’ll kill us both." he whispered in a cold voice and you nodded, barely noticeable. 

"I love you." he added and you closed your eyes.

He loved you. That was all that mattered to you. 

You could never love another man, not even if you wanted to.

***

You made it back inside on shaky legs, your heels were way too high for the amount of booze you had in your system by now. You screw off the lid of the bottle in your hands and take a sip. Looking around you spot none of your friends except Yuta but he didn’t seem to notice you. 

He’s sitting on that very couch you were sitting on with Choso just a while ago and at a second glance you can see that he’s making out with your roommate. Maki didn’t seem to notice you either, as she was completely distracted by Yuta’s lips and his hands all over her body.

Under other circumstances you would have been quite excited about this turn of events - you knew how long Maki had been crushing on him. And you also knew that Yuta was the one who fell first, given how he acted around her and how he looked at her like she was the only woman on the planet. 

But now you were way too drunk and way to invested in finding Megumi to care about anything else. You push past a few people while drinking from the almost empty bottle, trying to find the front door.

After taking a few wrong turns you eventually find yourself standing in front of the door through which you had entered the apartment a couple hours ago. And just as you put your hand on the doorknob, you feel someone snatch the bottle from you.

"What the-" you start and turn around, looking at pink hair and a deeply concerned face. 

"What are you doing? Let me get you home." Yuji was completely sober again, looking at you with a raised eyebrow. 

"I really need to get som' fresh air Yuji, please jus' leave me 'lone" You slur, struggling to stay on your feet.

Yuji held the empty bottle in his left hand and grabbed your wrist with his right to keep you from falling. 

"Y/N, please, don’t go out there by yourself. You can either sleep in my room or I’ll get you home." He tries to pull you away from the door but you stand your ground.

"Please just let me gooo." you beg, impatiently stomping with your feet after finding your balance again. "Let me go." you insist and try to pull your arm away from him.

"I just don't want you to get hurt, Y/N" Yuji says and you have literally no idea on how to get out of this situation. It was not like he would just let you leave like this.

"Listn' I really don' need a babysitter and I have an Uber waiting for me, so please just lemme' go." you lie to him, hoping he would be satisfied with that. 

"Bullshit, you did not call an Uber. That’s like a five minute walk, we’re right next to campus." he busted your lie. "What are you really up to, huh?" Yuji asks.

Choso and Yuji indeed lived right next to the campus. You had always asked yourself how they were able to afford this huge apartment and you figured that Choso not only consumed the drugs he hid here by himself - but also dealt them. That would explain at least a few things, for example all the people who constantly went in and out of here.

After a while of not answering him, Yuji finally lets go of your wrist and looks at the ground. 

"You're looking for him, don't you?" he asks after meeting your gaze again. The look in his eyes made you feel so terrible and ashamed. 

"Listen, he’s my best friend too, but he just beat up my brother and that look on his face? I don’t know Y/N, he looked like he was capable of anything in that moment." You tried to avoid his gaze, but no chance. It seemed like he pinned you to the wall with his eyes alone.

"I'm not looking for him- I'm-" you start when suddenly you get cut off by a few guys that were calling out for Yuji. As he turns around for a split second you immediately take advantage of him being distracted to open the door and slip outside. 

You quickly walk in the direction of the stairs, your head spinning but you try to stay composed and take one step after the other before finally stumbling through the door downstairs onto the street. 

The sky was completely black, not a single star in sight and the only light was coming from a few dimly lit street lamps. Thankfully it was still relatively warm outside.

You take a few shaky steps away from the building, still a bit afraid Yuji would follow you. You were in no condition to run from him. 

For a while the sound of your heels on concrete is the only thing you can hear until you notice the faint buzz of your phone in your purse. 

MEGUMI: "Meet me outside. I'll wait for you." Your heart starts beating faster. 

The text was from about 30 minutes ago so you figure that you didn't have a signal upstairs in the apartment. You look up from the screen and turn around, trying to find where Megumi was waiting.

You flinch a little when suddenly a parked car on the side of the road starts its engine. 

You recognize the black pickup truck and as the lights inside light up for a brief moment, you see Megumi sitting in the driver's seat. Your vision is still a bit blurry and your head’s dizzy but your legs are already carrying you towards the car. 

He really expected you to come looking for him.

You open the car's door and slip into the passenger seat without saying a word. The lights inside are dimmed and you can only see his pale, slender fingers on the steering wheel. His dark clothes swallow him up and the hood of his sweater is pulled down over his face. 

Megumi did not say a single word either, his face turned towards the windshield in front of him. 

"Y/N!" you hear someone call out for you as you close the door behind you. Looking through the window you spot Yuji at the entrance door of the apartment building. He's holding the open door and watching you get into the car. 

"Your dog’s already looking for you, huh?" Megumi asks without expecting an answer and starts the truck. He drives off before Yuji could even think about running after you. 

Yuji's eyes were full of concern and yours were full of guilt as you turn to face him, but you quickly lower your gaze. You couldn’t stand looking at him. You knew how desperate he must feel right now.

At this point you wouldn't blame your friends if they never spoke to you ever again. The hours they spent worrying about you, the evenings they spent trying to talk you out of your relationship with Megumi. 

It was all for nothing.

You slip out of your heels and throw them to the back of the truck. Megumi looked at you, one hand on the steering wheel. He watched you while you were rubbing your aching feet, trying to ease the pain from walking in these goddamn high heels for hours. 

With his free hand he stroked your thigh, motioning you to put your legs in his lap. 

"C'mere." you hear his deep voice and you hesitate for a second before you stretch your legs out towards him. He starts massaging your freshly pedicured feet with one hand, the other one gripping the steering wheel tightly. His eyes were focused on the road in front of him. 

You close your eyes for a moment and enjoy the sensation of his touch, your whole body was aching and this right now was a blessing, no matter how awkward the situation was.

After a few minutes you feel the car speeding up. You knew that Megumi was probably still drunk but you also did not really care about it. It was not a big surprise to you that he would drive drunk and it was also not the first time he did this. 

For a really long time neither of you said a single word and you were just enjoying his touch on your skin, without having to fill the silence.

"What were you thinking?" Megumi was the first to break the silence, eyes still fixated on the road. His voice was icy and it made you shiver.

"What d’you mean?" you ask, pretending to be clueless. Your head starts spinning a little as you open your eyes again.

"Don’t play dumb." Megumi huffed, looking over to you, directly into your eyes. "I mean you, sitting in Choso's lap, behaving like a slut in front of everyone." 

"Mhm." you answer, turning your face away from him. You switch on the radio. 'After Hours' by The Weeknd starts playing, probably from some playlist you made for him. 

"Technically, I wasn’t sitting in his lap." you say. You're not sure you would have had the courage to say that if Megumi hadn't been busy driving. 

Even though you’re unsure of what to say next, you didn't want to submit to him again. You did not want to make yourself so small anymore.

"Shouldn’t the question be: Why the hell do you even care?" You shift your weight and put one foot up on his thigh, stroking his crotch through the fabric of his pants. 

The last bit of alcohol in your blood gave you at least a little courage.

"It’s not like we are together anymore." you say teasingly as he looks over to you again. 

Megumi grabs your leg, pushing it back down roughly. You wince, as his grip on your ankle is a bit too harsh. 

"Ouch." you protest and he lets go of you. You send him an innocent smile and tilt your head to the side, as you continue to stroke his thigh with your foot. You feel a bulge growing in his crotch just seconds later

"So why does it matter to you?" He doesn’t answer. You see the grip of his hand tighten around the steering wheel, but he doesn’t say anything. Instead he keeps on caressing your feet and legs, trying to push them down or hold you still but you don’t let him.

The two of you just sit in silence again, listening to the music without talking to each other.

"It matters because I don’t want to see that fucking bastard all over you, acting like he owns y-" Megumi says after a while but you cut him off.

"We’re not together anymore and you don’t get to beat up anyone I am involved with," You snap at him. "Cut your fucking bullshit Megumi, I am sick of this." 

You don’t know how to feel. This is all so confusing - a big part of you is annoyed with him and so hurt and heartbroken, but the other part, probably even bigger, wants to nestle in against his chest and leave as little space as possible between the two of you. 

And he knew that, too. That smug piece of shit knew you inside out, and acting was not exactly your strength.

"Then why are you here?" he asks and glances at you, both hands on the steering wheel again. 

You think for a moment, look over at him, then out the window again. You skip to the next song and loll your legs in his lap now sitting on your side and resting against the back of the car seat.

"I guess I make terrible life choices and besides, you almost hospitalized my one chance at some superficial sex tonight so you have to deal with me now." You say, trying to sound almost bored. Or  at least unbothered.

Megumi swallows, eyes still fixated on the road. You figured that this was not what he wanted to hear but to your surprise you hear him chuckle seconds later. 

Well, as you had already noted: he knew you too well.

"Nah, don’t bullshit me." he sneered. "You started looking for me as soon as you arrived at that party. I saw you disappear with Yuji immediately after." 

Megumi ignored your little show of pretending that all of this left you completely cold and you just wanted to end up in someones bed. It was a show after all.

"And I saw you getting out of that bathroom, holding hands with my best friend." You cross your arms. "Wearing the dress I bought for you. " 

"I doubt that you wanted Choso to fuck you tonight." Megumi huffs, his deep voice making your heart race. 

"I doubt that you wanted anyone else’s attention than mine." He was so right.

After a few more minutes of sitting in silence with the music playing softly in the background and Megumi driving off into the darkness, you roll the window all the way down. He looks over to you as you lean your head out slightly, hair waving in the breeze. 

You take a deep breath and lean out a bit further, supporting yourself on the window frame. As you arch your back a little, your breasts start to perk up and you close your eyes to fully enjoy the cool night air blowing in your face. Besides the music and the sound of the engine it was so quiet outside. The world was asleep and somehow that comforted you.

You feel Megumi’s gaze on your body. His hands act upon his thoughts as he starts stroking up your calves, over your thighs and further up under your dress. You lean back inside and your eyes meet, but as always you couldn't quite read his expression. 

You slowly pull your legs out of his lap and rest your feet on the dashboard. Without breaking eye contact you lift yourself up out of your seat, pulling up your dress a little and taking off your panties. His eyes widen for a second but he seems to try his best to stay composed.

In your perception, you didn't have much power over him. Not after he managed to read you like an open book once again. He was right about everything he said, even if you wish it was different. 

You only went to that party because you hoped something like this would happen.

Megumi would probably not make that statement - even if it didn't seem like that to you, he knew you could bring him to his knees with the blink of an eye.

He swallows hard, turns away for a moment to look at the road and looks right back at you again. You feel his hand run across your thigh, squeezing gently.

You meet his gaze with the most innocent smile on your lips before you throw your panties in his direction. 

Megumi's lips twitch as he takes a look at the pair of panties lying in his lap. 

"I knew I was right." he says with a smug grin on his lips. You notice his eyes immediately scanning the road for an exit and you giggle as the car takes a sharp turn off into some run-down construction side.

"Well, you better hurry up, so you can make up for the amazing sex I would’ve had if it wasn’t for you." you purr and look up at him from big doe eyes. 

He glances over, looking you up and down 

"I will definitely make you regret saying that out loud." Megumi hums before he brings the car to a halt in the shadow of an unfinished building. 

You roll the window back up and climb over to him without thinking twice, straddling his lap in the drivers seat. He grabs your hips to bring you into the right position and you smile down at him before you lower your lips to his neck. 

"Promise?" you ask and feel his hands move all over your body before sliding under your dress, pushing it up and squeezing your ass with both of his hands while you’re leaving hickeys on his pale skin.

"God, I missed that feeling." he groans as you grind down on his lap. You can feel how hard he already was while dampening the fabric of his pants with your soaking wet pussy. You pull back for a moment and look into his eyes. Just seconds later your lips crash down on his, wet and sloppy as you hold his face with both of your hands.

His hands move further down your ass and you moan into his mouth when his fingers reach your slick heat, sliding through your wet folds. He teases you, circling your clit and your clenching hole lazily with two fingers. He deepens the kiss before your lips part with an audible pop! and you’re left to catch your breath. 

His lips wander along your jaw and the side of your neck while your hands move from his face down his neck and over his chest, further down to his pants. Megumi’s hands are back on your ass to lift you up a little so you can try and open up his belt to pull down his trousers. With a hasty movement you relieve him of his pants and grind down on him immediately after.

You flinch a little when you feel his leaking tip brush against your sensitive clit. Letting out a quiet whimper you start grinding on him again, sliding his hard dick through your wet folds. He pulls you into another kiss, gentle at first before he nips at your bottom lip and then bites down hard. You pant and slide your tongue into his mouth, making him groan in return.

You pull away and look deep into his eyes, arms now wrapped around his neck. Megumi pulls you up again by your waist, positioning his cock at your wet entrance. You cry out in pleasure just as he pushes the fat tip of his cock inside you without giving you any time to adjust. 

"Ahh, 'gumi! Fuck-" you moan. You lift yourself up again, the sensation of his dick filling you out being just too much to handle for you right now. Megumi looks at you, a crooked smile on his lips. Hands on your hips and lower back he pulls you closer to him, you can feel his hot breath against your neck.

"Too much?" He breathes into your ear. "Guess you didn’t fuck around after all." 

"Good girl 'been waiting for me." he whispers, caressing your back with one hand before he thrusts up deep into your tight pussy, bottoming out completely. You squeal but have no chance of escaping him as he holds you in place with both of his hands.

"Ah- Fuck! Fuck- Megumi-" you whine, throwing your head back in pleasure. 

"Shit- How are you so fucking tight?" you hear Megumi growl though clenched teeth as he holds you down for another moment to keep you from moving. Finally his grip on your hips loosens a little and you start grinding up and down, picking up the pace. Still, you felt how much he hated not having full control over you so he kept on guiding you with his hands. 

He watched your pussy swallow his cock whole, going so deep and hitting spots inside you that made you cry out in pleasure and pain, his thick girth stretching you out just right. 

Megumi is quick to push your dress further up your waist to expose your boobs, watching them bounce up and down as you keep on riding his dick. You moan out in pleasure while picking up the pace of grinding on his cock, making him pant and groan against your soft skin.

His gaze and hands wander all over your body, having your soaked cunt crush down on his cock even harder now that you were free to move however you liked. Megumi’s getting lost in watching your cute pussy bury him deep inside, creaming and slowly forming a white ring around his shaft. 

Your head’s still thrown back in pleasure, eyes rolling to the back of your head from the sensation of your tight hole clenching around his thick girth, your moans and gasps and groans and the sound of skin slapping against skin fill up the car. 

He watches you in awe as you fuck yourself on his cock exactly how you need it, whimpering, moaning and breathing so hard as he puts a thumb to your clit, drawing harsh circles that make you flinch. 

"You’re so fucking beautiful-" he groans, trying to catch his breath and coming back to reality as he notices your moans getting needier and your breathing getting harder. 

"'Please 'gumi- need you to-" you babble, your grinding on his dick gets sloppier and after a few more lazy circles Megumi's hands move to your waist, squeezing the fat on your hips on his way up.

One hand on your waist, the other moving up, grabbing and squeezing your boobs before wrapping around your neck, he holds you in place as he roughly starts fucking up into you. 

Your thighs were already shaking, his hand around your neck still squeezing tightly. You’re gasping for air while now being fucked at a brutal pace.

"Oh- Fuck- just like that Megumi-" you moan. "Please d-don’t stop- Just like that-" The quiet pleads leave your lips and you close your eyes, desperately trying to hold yourself up by supporting yourself with your hands on the window frame and steering wheel.

"You think Choso would’ve made you feel like this?" Megumi sneered, already leaving bruises on your neck by how hard he was squeezing down his hand. You try to shake your head but instead you can just let out a quiet whimper.

"Huh? You think he could’ve fucked you like I fuck you?" he spat, loosening his grip just as you begin to see stars forming in the corners of your eyes. You feel his hand on your cheek and a second later you hear a loud slap! followed by a stinging sensation on your face.

"I asked you a question." he growls, his thumb on your lips, pressing into your mouth. You begin to suck on it instinctively, your eyes half closed and your strength slowly leaving you because he was pounding so hard up into you.

"N-No- only you-" you whimper, voice breaking.

"Good girl," he praises "be a good little slut and keep squeezing me so tight." His thumb leaves your mouth and you fall forward a bit, losing the support of his hands. Your walls clench around him, turning you into a moaning mess against the hot, sweaty skin of his face.

"Fuck- such a good little whore for me, huh?" Megumi growls into your ear while your head rests against the side of his face. He’s still at a brutal pace, his thrusts getting even deeper and you can’t help but whimper and cry on top of him.

"P-Please- Can’t take n’more" you sob while he fucks into you relentlessly, making you cry out in pain and pleasure. 

"Please- Please let me cum-" you whimper, tears starting to form in the corners of your eyes. 

"Look at me." Megumi orders and you try to lean back again, supported by his strong arms holding you upright. 

"F-Feels so good." you cry, squirming and wiggling under his touch, overwhelmed with the delicious feeling of his dick pumping in and out of you. He’s hitting all the right spots while your walls are squeezing him so tight. Megumi holds you in place, hands on your hips and lower back, not letting you move a centimeter to the side. 

"Fuck- doing so good- now cum on my dick, be a good girl for me." Megumi groans, not taking his eyes off of you for even a second. Tears roll down your cheeks while you look deep into his dark eyes, black strands of hair sticking to the damp skin of his forehead. 

With every thrust you feel the knot in your stomach getting tighter, with every brush of his shaft against your puffy clit you feel yourself getting closer to the edge until you feel that sweet release washing over your body with a final harsh thrust. Your lewd moans and your tight pussy clenching around his cock throw him over the edge just seconds later and you feel him pumping his load deep into you with a few feral groans escaping his lips.

"F-fuck- keep squeezing me so tight," he breathes into your ear, pressing your body as close as possible to his while you lazily continue to move up and down on his dick. "Good girl." Megumi moans. He holds you tight and you bury your face in the crook of his neck.

For quite a long time you both are just trying to catch your breath, entwined in each others arms. The truck’s windows are steamed-up and only the shallow light of the moon falling through the windshield makes it possible for you to see anything at all.

"You’re something else." Megumi whispers after a while, his soft cock gliding out of your sticky cunt and his hot breath hitting your skin. He quickly pulls up his pants and pulls down your dress before he pulls you back into his lap, your body trembling under his touch. 

"I missed you." he says and you feel so exhausted that you can only nestle into his chest, listen to his heartbeat and close your eyes, while he strokes your back gently. 

"Let me stay the night. I’ll get you home." he whispers and plants a kiss on top of your hair. 

"Not if you’ll leave me again." Your voice sounded so delicate and fragile, he had to pause and swallow before he could answer.

"I won’t." he says quietly. 

"Please don’t leave me again." you repeat yourself and you feel a single tear forming in the corner of your eye that gets wiped away by Megumi’s hand caressing your cheek. 

"I promise." You look up at him and he pulls you into a deep kiss. "I love you." you say quietly.

He doesn’t say anything.

"I still love you." You feel so vulnerable, it’s almost making you sick. "I don’t care about us fighting or fucking or obsessing over each other - deep down I know that I’m only capable of loving you."

"You’re the only one I want." You add in a low voice.

"I know." You hear Megumi’s muffled voice, his face is buried in your hair.

If only he could see the damage he did to you. How dependent you were, how much he was hurting you. 

If only you could see how much you were pouring oil on his fire, how obsessed you were with him. 

There was no happy end for the both of you and deep down you knew that.

[traumxrei-archive]

Do you have any advice for people who want to start writing requests?

hmm this is quite an interesting question, so i hope my advice can help !

this is full of my personal advice / experiences on writing requests so fair warning that it might not reflect your experience.

then let's start trau's guide n advice for writing requests :

[ first, do you have the time ? ]

i think that the first step to starting requests is to think abt whether you have the time or not to write requests. i started out writing my requests when i had a period of lull in my classes, we weren't learning much content n we were just working on coursework. so i thought that i had some time to spare that i could use to write requests !

i think i underestimated how much time requests take to do (for me, at least. ik some ppl churn out requests p quick but i'm a slow writer) and it ended up bleeding into my exam time. next time i take requests i'll definitely be more mindful of the timing.

[ second, make some rules for yourself. ]

an important aspect of requests are the requests guidelines. make a guideline of what you will/won't write, chars you will accept/reject, anything else you'd like to add. personalize it to yourself and your boundaries. here's my request menu for reference. i would recommend looking around at bunch of other people's request rules for ideas + to figure out where your boundaries lie.

[ third, DON'T FORGET TO STICK TO YOUR RULES !! ]

i'm a person who was constantly feeling bad abt rejecting requests back then, i still do sometimes, but then you gotta remember:

you made those rules in order to suit your needs. the requester failed to meet those. so you have the right to delete said request.

don't be afraid to delete anything you can't / struggle to write. forcing yourself to write is gonna make it harder n harder to keep writing consistently. you're supposed to be enjoying your writing, so please write things that you are passionate abt writing !

and don't be afraid to delete anything that goes above character limit boundaries. in terms of this, say you have a limit of 3 per hc, and they send in 4, you could even just chose 3 n leave the fourth one; reminding them that you have a limit for 3 chars max.

be strict with people when needed, and remind them of your rules. you deserve to be respected ! they're the ones coming to ask you for requests that will take your time and hard work, so make sure that you're being treated with respect.

[ fourth, now you have ur request guidelines + time to write. now what ? ]

i think the best course of action would be to make a requests open post ! make sure to tag it properly as well, that's detrimental to making sure that people are able to see it.

as an example, this was what i tagged for my first requests open post. + i put in my request menu as a link to make sure people knew my guidelines.

[ fifth, you need to have patience. ]

starting requests was scary sjkdfsjfk like i didn't know if anyone would ever want a request from me, hell, i didn't really have anything on my blog except for two fics, so i was really nervous... you don't know when your first request is going to come, so have some patience ! also, get off tumblr n do something you enjoy instead of stewing in nerves jskdfjk

i would recommend maybe writing something as an example of what you can do, and posting it. here you can mention that your requests are open, link your request menu, and people feel more inclined to request that way.

i remember that for me, i had three requests after hours of waiting, so i decided to work on one of them and publish it + include that my requests were open. (this was the request) and after publishing that, i ended up getting more requests, since people read what i can do, liked it, and wanted requests of their own.

i guess that concludes my advice on how to start writing requests ?? i have a few more pieces of advice tho, so i'll include them below:

[ about: banners n aesthetics ]

aesthetics are important, though it won't make or break your writing. you don't have to have a super beautiful set up from the get-go, you can adapt and change it as time goes by. i've recently revamped my masterlist after a month or two of having this blog open, so it's fine if your set up is simple ! just find something that suits you.

and as for how to make banners, ik there's some blogs out there who use programs like photoshop, but i'm here to say that i personally create all my banners n headers, etc. on my phone. so i'm just saying, it's definitely possible for you to make them too ! (if you're curious i use the free version of picsart)

i'd recommend using official art for your banners: card art, chibi sprites, manga art, etc. or even your own art if you're feeling fancy ! just please don't use fanart unless you've gotten express permission from the creator.

[ about: tagging ]

tags are king on tumblr, so make sure you also tag your writings accordingly ! don't be afraid to use a lot of tags bc it "looks ugly" all those tags are gonna make it so people can see your writing, so don't be ashamed to use a lot of tags. (also don't use unrelated tags on a post, like tagging a char when they weren't mentioned)

[ about: time it takes to write requests ]

no one's expecting you to churn our requests as fast as you can. you should take your time to write, and release them at a pace you're comfortable with. don't feel bad for taking a long time on requests, you have your personal life to deal with on top of writing, so prioritize yourself !

i hope that this was satisfactory advice :D all i can say is if you're contemplating writing requests, go for it ! i never thought that i'd get this far, and all i can say is that i've had a blast writing requests + making new friends <33 it's definitely something that i don't regret doing despite my initial worry about everything.

if you ever want personal advice, my ask box is always open n you can ask me to dm you and i can try to help out.

in the end of the day, all everyone's here to do is have fun, so my last piece of advice is to have fun with it !

[unholyplumpprincess]

Could you pretty please do bloodhound/octane/seer reacting (positively) to their transmale s.o who got top surgery? Sfw/nsfw please !! If not thats okay! :]

O sure! Normally I don't accept stuff without a full prompt, but for this sorta thing, absolutely let's go. I'll just be adjusting it so rather than transmale it's just gender neutral top surgery to include anyone else who'd want top surgery!

If you'd like to request junk from me, check out my rules: HERE

Reblogs > Likes

!!!Though this post is SFW, this blog is not. Minors and ageless blogs do not follow, but plz feel free to rb this post!!!

Warnings: Sfw, reader is gn and has top surgery, top surgery, Octane is trans and has top surgery

-

• Bloodhound: Hound is supportive the entire way through. They personally never had issues with their own chest so they had to do research for you to figure out how to take care of you. And of course what they should be mindful of in the coming days. When you receive your top surgery and it's successful, it's Hound who visits you first in the hospital.

Your joy is what sets them off daily afterwards. Whenever you take off your shirt and beam at them at the simplicity of it, they share your smile, helpless to your delight. And also enjoying the fact you take your clothing off more often without their own wandering hands to aid.

They especially love the look on your face when they take you to their favorite spot in their homeland. A waterfall where you two often bathed and swam, enjoying your time together. When you wiggle out of your shirt and smile at them with a smile rivaling the full moon, they fall a little more in love with you.

-

• Octane: "Yooohoho we match now!!!" Octavio is absolutely casual the whole way through. He's had his chest long since yeet-ed into oblivion and hasn't looked back. When he found out your wanted the surgery as well, he was absolutely on board. Eagerly paying for you, setting you up with a doctor per Che's recommendation.

That's the first thing he says when he walks into the room and sees you on the hospital bed. Practically bouncing over to you in his excitement to see YOUR excitement. Though, when he starts trying to mother hen you about making sure you take care of yourself. You point out that he didn't do HIS aftercare- Ajay had told you.

He shoos you off, saying to do as he says, not as he did. And then goes on to take a selfie with you for his followers, afterwards showing you the picture with a grin and a, "Hey! Maybe you can get 'em pierced so we REALLY match!"

-

• Seer: Obi has to return home to take care of business when your surgery is conducted, so unfortunately he doesn't get to see you right away. Except for, of course, phone calls and videos. And of course pictures sent by you. He's always loved you and supported you through and through, so when you mentioned it, he hadn't even blinked or wavered in his support.

When he finally gets to see you in person, however, his golden clawed fingertips do gingerly brush down your chest. Stopping just short of your scars as he cocks his head curiously. "They have done a wonderful job, my love. And how do you feel now that you are free from your burden and free to explore your new beauty?"

"Like a weight is off my chest!" You'd reply cheekily, grinning brightly up at him and stealing his breath away once again.

Even if you are ridiculous for such jokes.

[fortruthseekers]

Pinned Post

PSA:

FYI this post is pinned at the top of my blog, scroll past it for new posts.

This is Purv aka @p-redux and this was my original Tumblr account where I posted insider source info and debunked Extreme Shipper Lies years ago @fortruthseekers. When I left the fandom to take care of my dad, I didn't think I'd be back, and I deleted all my posts. But I kept the account and name so haters wouldn't steal it. I'm now going to use it to repost past source info posts. Haters keep saying I don't and didn't have REAL sources, well they're about to get a history lesson, and be proven WRONG again.

So, if you see @fortruthseekers reblogged, that's me, and my old posts. I'll use the hashtag #PurvArchives so that people can find them more easily.

Caveat: I’m going to do a past source posts dump, so if you don’t want your Timeline filled with my posts, I recommend NOT following @fortruthseekers...simply VISIT the account when you want to look at old source info posts. @p-redux will STILL BE MY MAIN BLOG. There are way over 100 posts, so I’ll be posting a few a day, as time permits. I’ll alert you on here @fortruthseekers and on @p-redux when I’ve posted all the old posts.

Click on Keep Reading for the rest of this post.

Also, some clarification on terminology: back in the day NSTs Non-Shipper Truthers where called simply Truthers. Extreme Shippers were called Super Shippers or Hardcore Shippers, “Hardies” for short. So, when you see those terms, that's what they mean.

I have a TON of posts, and I simply don't have the time to categorize them or put them in order, so I'm just going to do a post dump, as many as I can a day, in no particular order. Besides the #PurvArchives hashtag I'll also add more detailed hashtags to make it easier for people to find specific topics. These posts will ONLY be past posts from MY sources throughout the years or from big revelations that, yes, may be based on other people’s posts or social media, but mostly from my direct insider sources. And some things I couldn’t find, so this is by no means a comprehensive collection. If anyone has old source posts of mine that you don’t see posted once I’m done, feel free to reblog them to @fortruthseekers. I'll also post SOME old source posts from my current Tumblr blog, @p-redux on @fortruthseekers But since the @p-redux posts are all still there and can be found via a hashtag search of my blog, that won’t be the bulk of the archives on @fortruthseekers

BUT @p-redux will still be my MAIN blog and where I will post NEW info. THIS blog is for archive purposes ONLY. Once I've posted all the old posts, I won't be posting on @fortruthseekers, only updating the archives as needed. If you have any questions, please Send Asks or Submits or Direct Messages ONLY to my main account, @p-redux.

Because I deleted all my old posts on @fortruthseekers, the only way to retrieve them is by me either reblogging other bloggers who reblogged me OR posting links to their reblogs. Some of those Non-Shippers are no longer on Tumblr. Some, I’ve parted ways with. And also some of the Extreme Shippers mentioned in past posts no longer ship. And of course, since these will ALL be old posts, they will involve mentions of Sam's past girlfriends. If any of that bothers you, then this isn't the blog for you. 

My Asks are off on @fortruthseekers and I won't answer DMs, so any questions, please go to @p-redux.

Now let's get started. Up first, a REFRESHER ON MY SOURCES. I’ll link it at the bottom of this pinned post for easy access. If the link doesn’t work, simply search on @fortruthseekers for “Refresher On My Sources” and you’ll find the post. Most of you have heard the history of that ad infinitum, so I won't take offense if you skip that post. That one is for newbies who don't know WHY the SANE part of the fandom believes that I DO have sources, and that what I’ve been saying for 7 years is TRUE. BUT, I have added all the details I was originally given and now they are all in one place, so if you’re interested in what my ORIGINAL industry source said about Sam and Cait, and what my ORIGINAL Tony source said about Cait and Tony, then you’ll find it at the link down at the end of this post.

A walk down memory lane, here we go!