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#also if you see these tags i'd like y'all to know that after this i'm going to be on a semi hiatus from interactions on here
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MAJOR update
So I don't know if anyone else even cares about this stuff, but I made some huge progress with tagging/retagging things here. For some time I haven't been tagging any posts at all lacking motivation because, seriously, does anyone even look at tags these days?
Still, my love for this ship keeps me going. Maker, I'd forgotten how therapeutic the process is. For a few days I almost stopped dwelling on my own personal issues.
Anyway
Allow me to remind y'all that this blog has a list of TAGS, a rather extensive one. I shudder to think how much time I spent compiling it all, but it does make me happier somehow
We have an impressive collection of fanart, so many comic bits they had to be separated into their own category to make it possible to navigate through all the artwork, writings that I don't think can be found anywhere else. In the beginning this fandom also used to produce a lot of memes and jokes, not so much of it now, but we don't forget our history! There is so much to uncover and rediscover.
I guess that canoodling/hugging/cuddling/snuggling tags are still a mess (always have been) despite my best efforts, but I genuinely tried to make it make sense somewhat. Having 8000+ pieces of art for your ship gets you there. Hard to believe it used to be almost nonexisistent in the beginning. It was so easy to navigate in 2012...
I didn't even try to sort out the comics, and fiction is not tagged either, except for the most basic basics.
Well, if anyone has any better ideas/suggestions don't be shy about @ ing me. Hell, if you can think of any new tags worth adding, let me know. And if you could reply to the relevant posts with it, it'd be fantastic.
If you're bored and don't mind spending some time with Fenris and Hawke, observing them love each other, please take a look at the list. There are also separate pages for the people who make fanart and write stuff for us, so you can always find more of their works by looking up the artists name in the tags. Though this page is forever in progress.
There's always room for improvement, so if you have anything to say, PLEASE SAY IT.
Also, the pornstash is up again, and now there is some semblance of a system.
It is a members-only blog, since almost all of its content is flagged and can only be viewed by members. So you need to become one. Everyone is welcome to join, but please don't follow it. All you need to do is like this post. I'll see your username and send you an invite. After that you'll need to check your e-mail (NOT tumblr inbox!) and follow the link you'll find there. And please read the post i linked carefully, there's vital information in it.
I'm just really tired
I'd really like to sort this place out completely so that when I retire, and someone is willing to take it off my hands, I could be at peace.
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chaotic-on-main · 10 months
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hey guys! how about another tag game? :3
I'm using this in my about me page for my tumblr and thought how fun it would be to do a little tag game with character sheets about ourselves! a chance to get to know each other in the silliest way possible lol. credit goes to @cparrisart on here! she gave the okay to use as a tag game! :3
the dots are read from right to left, and the little images under the face are two things to represent my favorite things lol. also i ended up just putting my pronouns in gender but y'all can do whatever! i also used my tablet but this can be easily done in paint or adjacent drawing/writing apps.
blank is under the cut!!
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tagging: @averysmolbear @humanitys-strongest-bamf @youre-ackermine @roseofdarknessblog @icansmellsouls @dkbktk420 @elnyrae @romantichomicide95 @sckerman @genyastolemyheart @highgoon69 @missyasma @kingkonoha @wyvernslovecake @happybird16 @strawberrystepmom @postwarlevi @the-milk-anon @darlingheichou @jayteacups
If you'd like to be a part of my taglist, please go here! I ended up tagging a few extra that aren't on it because I think this is so fun and y'all might like it too?
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tvrningout-a · 1 year
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IMAGES OF JINJA TSUGUMI
" i knew that i was dying. something in me said, ' go ahead, die, sleep, become as them, accept. ' then something else in me said, ' no, save the tiniest bit. it needn't be much -- just a spark. a spark can set a whole forest on fire. just a spark. save it. ' "
pg. 1/∞
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scarletlizzard · 8 days
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Inked Desires - Part 3
(Part 1) (Part 2)
Pairing: gp!Natasha × fem!Reader
Tags Minors DNI: natasha has a dick, miscommunication, unprotected sex, breeding, cheesy shit
Masterlist
A/n: Thank you to everyone who stuck around for this part, and thank you for 1,000 followers! 🥳 There are no more parts to this, but I do have some drabbles I'd like to write for it if y'all are interested 🫶 Please leave some feedback, and thank you again for reading ❤️
Art Creds for the first 2 pics: @sweet--escape17 (Please go check out their art, it's amazing!)
Also, shoutout: @oolsen (Thanks for helping me with the plot when I get stuck!)
****
Your eyes glaze over as you stare at the screen of your phone, looking at the same messages that had been sitting in your conversation with Natasha for the past week. You replay the events from the last night you saw her at Joe's bar, wondering where you went wrong. An entire week, gone, and not a single text. No 'Good Morning'. No 'Have a great day'. No ridiculous smiling emojis attached to an even more ridiculous joke. Instead, a one-sided conversation with yourself:
Y/N: I had so much fun last night!
Y/N: Have a good day, baby <3
Y/N: Maybe we can get together soon? Kate told me about a fair happening nearby next weekend. I think that might be fun!
Y/N: Hey, is everything okay?
It wasn't like Natasha to not text you back. The two of you had practically talked every day since meeting, and when you hadn't, she always had a good reason for not replying. Most of the time, it had been you that was too busy to text back... but now the quietness of the empty chat in the palm of your hand allowed an eerie loneliness to seep into your chest, along with a feeling of guilt.
***
"Come on, it'll be fun! " Kates voice rings in your ear from your phone. A sigh spills from your lips as you shake your head, knowing she can't see you.
"I don't know, I'm just not really in the mood..." You mumble into the speaker and silently thank the man who opens the door for you. The smell of freshly brewed coffee enters your nose, a small sense of comfort filling the cracks in your chest.
"Well, you don't really have a choice. You already know I'm dragging you with me... Plus, you can't be in a bad mood when you're eating caramel popcorn," You can practically see the grin on Kates face, knowing how much you loved the simple fair treat. You can also hear movement from the other side of the phone, raising an eyebrow as Kate shuffles around.
"Alright then, fine. Only for the popcorn," you sigh again as Kate cheers. She tells you goodbye as you walk up to the counter to order your usual latte. You pay and move to the opposite side of the counter to await your drink, when you spot a familiar red head in the corner.
Your eyes widen, chest bursting at the sight of Natasha. The feelings hit you all at once, guilt, anger, confusion. Overwhelmingly at the top, happiness. Her brows pull together in concentration at the paper, headphones rest atop her head as she sketches away in a notebook. Her short sleeve shirt reveals her inked skin, and you feel the familiar desire for her all over again.
You give yourself a second longer to stare, a second longer to mentally prepare yourself for what you want to say. Where have you been? Why haven't you texted me back? But as you step closer to the table, and her kind green eyes move away from the paper and to your not so composed stature, your mind seemingly empties.
"Hi," you say with a small smile after she removes her headphones. Natasha clears her throat awkwardly. You want to kiss her red cheeks.
"Y/N, hey," the smile she gives you back doesn't seem genuine, causing your own to fade.
"I've texted you a few times. Is... everything okay?" You ask, a small tilt of your head.
"Um, yeah, you know. I've just been busy?" She avoids your eyes, her body language distant as she crosses her arms with a shrug. You glimpse at the notebook open on the table, an intricate design of lines and shapes, before she closes it abruptly. "I actually have to get to work," Natasha sighs and throws the notebook and pencils into her bag. You don't miss the fact she's not wearing her work shirt.
"Right." You click your tongue as she stands, the tension in the air killing both of you.
As badly as Natasha wanted to pull you into her arms and kiss the worry off of your face, she couldn't. She couldn't deal with the fact she wanted more and that it was reciprocated. She couldn't deal with the fact that she wanted late night talks and laughs, while assuming you only wanted late night hookups. She couldn't deal with the fact that she liked you more than she thought she would, while assuming your interest in her was not on the same level.
"Look, can we talk?" Your soft tone surprises her as she stands, her tall frame towering over you. "Maybe tomorrow we can get together and just... talk. Huh, baby?" The term of endearment slips your tongue, and in a last ditch effort, your hand reaches out to softly touch her bicep.
Natasha finally meets your eyes again, and the two of you still for a moment, the coffee shop fading around you. She almost gives into you once again. She was weak against you. You feel her muscles tense in your grip, and the sound of your name being called by the barista takes her attention away from you. She takes a step backward and pulls on her pierced lip with her teeth.
"I uh, I'm hanging out with Yelena tomorrow," she rubs the back of her neck, attempting to sooth her nerves. You only stare up at her, feeling defeated. "Maybe next time."
You frown up at her, the feelings of confusion and anger rising to the surface as she refuses to look you in the eyes. "Sure. Next time."
Natasha opens her mouth to speak again, but no words come out. Instead, she turns her back to you and walks away, leaving you behind.
***
The next day, you found yourself once again staring at the empty conversation on your phone. You had typed up a million different messages, none of them sounding good enough to send. All night, you had tried to come up with the words to say to her. Ranging from paragraphs of you confessing your feelings to a simple, 'Hey, I like you. What are we doing?'
She had said she wanted more, didn't she? Why were you suddenly getting the cold shoulder?
You sigh aloud as you walk into your apartment building, calling Kate for the fourth time since you got off work early. In a rush this morning, you had forgotten your key, and you desperately hoped she was still there to let you in. Trudging slowly up the stairs, you get her voicemail - again.
As you walk up to the familiar sight of your door you knock hard, "Bishop, you'd better have a good fucking reason for not answering my calls," you joke and continue banging on the door. The lock clicks, and the door swings open. "I'm so glad you're home I-" you stop mid sentence, a now unfamiliar sight standing before you.
"Kate saw she had missed calls from you, I think she's hiding," Yelena laughs and steps back inside the apartment as you walk in behind her.
"Yelena.. I- what are you..?" Your heart picks up for a moment, assuming Natasha would be here with her.
"Oh, Kate invited me over for a movie day," her accent is thick as she speaks, and she gives you a friendly smile. Apparently, she was unaware of the current state between you and her sister.
"Aren't you hanging out with Natasha today?" You ask with a tilt of your head. Yelena raises an eyebrow and shakes her own head.
"No?" She questions and returns to her seat on the couch amongst a pile of pillows and blankets.
Your stomach drops. Natasha had lied to you. Why would she lie to you? Your mind begins to spiral at the list of reasons as to why she would. Kate walks out from the bathroom in the hall and sees the furious expression written on your face.
"Uh.. hey, you got off early!" Kate strides across the room towards you. "Everything okay?" She asks.
"Everything's great." You give her a bitter smile, making her eyes widen. "I'm sorry to interrupt your movie day," you look behind Kate to Yelena.
"Well, maybe since you're here, we can call Natasha over?" Yelena looks back to the now wide, sarcastic smile planted on your face.
"You know what, that's actually a great idea," you mutter and walk past Kate towards Yelena, who was already grabbing her phone.
"Y/N," Kate starts, but you quickly silence her with a glare.
"Oh, she finally answers!" Yelena laughs into the speaker and looks to you, blind to the situation unfolding in front of her. "Where are you at? Of course you are, that was a stupid question. Look, I'm at Y/N and Kates, we are having a movie day! Why don't you quit working out for 2 minutes and come over?"
At Yelenas words, you quickly walk to the kitchen counter where your key rests, grabbing it. She was at the gym, of course she was. You don't need to see Yelenas face change as you hear her English switch to fluent Russian. Natasha was finally filling her in. Kate gives you a look that you ignore as you leave the apartment and prepare yourself to make the 5 minute walk to Natashas gym.
The two of you passed by it any time you hung out, always pointing out the fact it was so close to your place and how you wondered why the two of you had never met before her party. Your footsteps are heavy against the sidewalk, and you don't give yourself a second to think about your current state. Still in your work uniformed shirt and slacks, hair a mess, eyes dark underneath from lack of sleep. It didn't matter. You were set on finally confronting her.
You walk inside to see Natasha standing by the weights, an unsurprised look on her face as she watches you move swiftly amongst the workout equipment. Your heart races in your chest, an uneasy feeling as Natasha begins to tower over you the closer you get. You try your best to ignore the tight black tank top she wore, along with the tight black shorts that showed off her toned and tatted thighs. You forced yourself to look only in her eyes.
"Y/N... let me explain," Natasha begins. You roll your eyes and ignore her words, anger bursting from every crack.
"So what is this then? You're just going to fuck me in a dirty bathroom bar then ignore me? Lie to me?" It leaves your mouth faster than you can think about it. Natasha meets your gaze at the words, a hurt expression on her face. Gone are the soft eyes once reserved for you, replaced with the cold stare everyone else receives.
"Are you kidding me? That's funny coming from you, Y/N," she scoffs, tone laced with venom.
"What the fuck does that mean?" You raise your voice, watching as Natasha steps forward towards you.
"Lower your tone," she commands, looking around the gym. You suddenly feel small. "I mean, that's all you want from me, isn't it? Look, I told you I wanted more of-of this," she motions between the two of you. "You don't, and that's fine, but stop trying to text me every time you need to get off." The last part is said in spite, and you feel as if you'd been pushed back. Natasha wanted to take it back as quick as she'd said it, but maybe being harsh was what she needed to get rid of her growing feelings towards you.
"Is that what you think I am? Just some slut trying to use you?" You spit back, watching her face twist in confusion.
"I never said that, Y/N."
"No, but it's implied."
"Unless the words leave my mouth, don't you dare put them in yourself."
"Is that seriously what you think?" You huff out. She nods, standing straight and crossing her arms.
"Well, yeah?" Her voice is unsure as she looks down at you. You sigh loudly, pinching the bridge of your nose with your fingers.
"You are a fucking idiot," you say with a shake of your head. Natasha face contorts as you look back up.
"Excuse m-"
"Why do you think I text you all the time to hang out? Why I invited you to hang out with my friends ?" You ask her in a serious tone, seeing her body language soften. "You want to talk about putting words in mouths? You don't get to say if I do or don't like you - and for your information, I do. A lot," you sigh as you finish your ramble.
"You do?" Is all she says, and you don't know if you want to slap her or kiss her.
"Of course I do.. I thought that was pretty obvious." It's your turn to cross your arms as she brings a hand up to rub her inked neck, her cheeks turning red to match the hair braided behind her.
"It's just - I thought maybe - You didn't -" She stumbles over her words, suddenly with a nervous demeanor.
Natasha wasn't prepared for this. She was prepared for an argument and then to never see you again. She hadn't given it a thought that you actually did reciprocate those feelings. And now here you were standing before her, in her mind, looking as beautiful as ever. She was putty, again.
"You didn't say anything that night back, so I just assumed.." her voice is soft to match her eyes, and you feel that guilt again, seeping out of you.
"Baby.. I'm so sorry. It was only because I was so excited that you felt the same way I did, I didn't know what to say," you reply just as soft and step forward. Natashas eyes spark with life at the use of her favorite word, leaving your lips, and her arm instinctively flexes as you touch her forearm. "Maybe next time, give a girl a moment to gather her thoughts?" You say with a small smile. Your heart leaps at the smile that spreads across her lips.
There's a moment of silence between the two of you, and just like before, the world seems to quiet and blur around you.
"Hi," Natasha chuckles, and you roll your eyes at the familiar game.
"Hi," You giggle back and reach up to cup her cheek. She leans down with a strong hand resting on your hip, lips meeting yours in a gentle kiss.
The two of your pull apart, but her large hand continues to rest on your side as you stand in front of her, now letting your eyes admire her toned muscles that were on display. The black lines on her skin move with every flex in her arm.
"Tell me more about this fair... will there be caramel popcorn?" Natasha asks. Your eyes shoot quickly up to hers as a warmth spreads through your chest.
You hadn't told her about your love for the snack. You lean up and kiss her again, ignoring the confused look on her face and letting yourself melt against her.
***
Lights of all colors of the rainbow seemed to flash around you. The sounds of laughter and screaming of people on the rides filled your ears. Your eyes search the area around you, watching as couples and families walk from stand to stand. A few teenagers run by, and a loud ringing and a cry of, "Winner!" catches your attention from next to you.
"Holy shit!" Kate laughs and taps your arm, showing you the brown teddy bear she won. You can't help but smile at the sight.
"Only took you about ten tries," you laugh along with her, reaching out to check out the bear. As you hand it back to her, you notice her eyes trail above your head. Then, a pair of thick arms wrap around your waist from behind. You can smell the familiar scent of the fragrance she wore.
"Well, well, what have we won?" Natasha asks from behind you. You lean back against her, smiling widely as she leans down to press a kiss to your cheek. "Pretty girl.." She mumbles in your ear, fingers tracing the material of your dress.
Things had been going great with Natasha since you talked about your miscommunication. Her morning texts returned, along with nightly chats over the phone until one of you fell asleep. She took you on dates, and you even went with her to the gym. Though, that mostly consisted of you shamelessly checking her out while she blushed gorgeously. You were happy, truly happy. One thing that had been building between the two of you was a certain... tension. The last time you both were intimate was the night at the bar. Since then, there have only been a few heavy make-out sessions and teasing between you. It seemed neither one of you wanted to be the first one to give in to those oh so familiar desires.
"Kate finally won a teddy bear, twenty dollars later," you cough out the last part jokingly and rest your hands on top of Natashas that stayed wrapped securely around you.
Kate groans and rolls her eyes playfully, "You know what? I'm not sharing him with you anymore."
You scoff, feeling Natashas chest rumble as she laughs along with Kate. "Yelena is at the ticket stand, by the way," Natasha says with a small smirk on her lips. Kates eyes widen a bit.
"Oh?" She says with a slow nod. "You know, actually, I think I need some more tickets!" Kate pats her pockets innocently with a shrug and gives you a smile. "Meet you later?" She asks, and you give her nod before she walks away.
Turning in Natashas arms, you finally get a good look at her, and you could drool at the sight of her in her white shirt and blue jeans. Just as always, you can see the pops of color peaking out from the seams, dark lines visible through the thin fabric. Her crooked smile lets a chuckle slip through.
"Alright?" She asks, raising an eyebrow as you continue to gawk at her.
"More than alright," you clear your throat and step back, letting your hand take hers. "Now, are you going to win me a teddy bear, or do I have to do it myself?" You poke her side, and she laughs.
"Step aside, I've got this," Natasha leans down to kiss your forehead, taking out her wallet and handing money to the man in charge of the booth.
"Three shots to knock down the bottles, and it's all yours!" He cheers loudly to gain the attention of others, showing off the teddy bear in question. Natasha takes the ball in her hand, and your eyes are glued to her broad shoulders as she winds up. She throws the ball, missing completely.
"That was just a warm-up," she turns back to look at you, clearing her throat. You stiffle a laugh and purse your lips, nodding.
"Of course, baby! Just a warm-up."
"Two more shots!" The man cries.
Natashas gaze changes from playful to pure concentration, eyes focused intently on the stacked bottles in front of her. She throws again, this time knocking two of the three bottles down. You can't help but let out a giggle this time at the proud expression on her face as she turns to you once more.
"One shot, and it's all yours!" He says loudly, shaking the bear next to her.
"Piece of cake," Natasha says with a laugh. She takes the last ball and winds up again, only to miss completely.
"Ohh, out of luck!" He says with a shrug and moves away. "Who's next?" He yells.
Natasha turns to you with red cheeks, "So maybe I'm not so good at this?" She rubs the back of her neck, and you only shake your head.
"Step aside," you repeat her own words to her, brushing against her as you hand the man money. He goes through his same shpiel and hands you a ball. Only when you go to throw it, the ball hits the bottles perfectly. All three go down instantly.
"Winner!" He yells loudly, handing you the stuffed bear. You smile widley as you take it and return to Natasha, a stunned look on her face.
"But.. how did you.." She shakes her head.
"Here you go, princess," you tease and hand her the bear, giggling as she rolls her eyes but accepts it.
"Alright now, at least let me buy you some popcorn," Natasha laughs along with you, wrapping an arm around your shoulders as you walk.
The two of you spend the next couple of hours riding the carnival rides the fair had to offer, walking around aimlessly, laughing and smiling, teasing each other. You had never felt happier. As you stand there, finally eating your favorite sweet treat, you look at Natasha stood next to you, the sight making you smile. You take out your phone and step back, ignoring the questioning look from her and snap a picture.
You giggle at the image you got of her, the stark contrast of her heavily tattooed and pierced body whilst standing there holding a teddy bear and a box of popcorn was a sight to behold.
"What was that for?" She raises an eyebrow, trying to look at the picture you took.
"Nothing, I just wanted a good memory of this," you smile and put your phone back in your pocket quickly, grabbing another handful of the caramel popcorn. Natasha smiles back. Before she can say anything, a raindrop hits her face.
"What the -" She starts, looking up at the dark night sky. The drops start coming faster, hitting harder as the rain begins to pour. All around you, people begin walking quickly to canopies, attempting to stay dry. "Come on," she says and grabs your hand.
The two of you make your way through the crowds of people, rain pouring down as she leads you out of the fairgrounds. The bright lights and loud music begin to fade as you run behind her, seeing her car just across the lot. Once you reach it, Natasha opens the passenger door for you.
The small act has you swooning as she stands there, waiting with a smile for you to get in. That even in the pouring rain, she was just the type of person to open the door for you. Instead of moving past her, you reach up to take her face in your hands, stepping on your tiptoes to kiss her.
The darkness is thick around the two of you, rain drowning out any nearby sounds. Natashas hands move from the door to wrap around your back, letting you down on your feet as she leans down to deepen the kiss. The cold rain is unforgiving as you melt into each other. A shiver runs through your body as her tongue slips in your mouth, a groan leaving your throat as the two halves spread to engulf your own. At your shiver, she pulls away breathlessly.
"We should get in," she utters against your lips. You nod feverishly.
"Backseat," you say, earning a groan from Natasha. She quickly pulls you away and opens the back door, letting you climb in. She follows behind, and as soon as the door is shut, you are climbing into her lap, lips colliding with hers again. The kiss is messy, tongues sloppily licking at eachothers mouths as you make out.
"Do you have any idea how crazy you drive me?" Natasha moans as your lips travel to her neck, her chest rising and falling rapidly with every nip. At her words, you grind your hips down in her lap, feeling her growing bulge. "F-fuck," she whimpers, bucking her hips up as you grind against her. "I need to be inside you, now," she groans. Her large hands move to your thighs, lifting your dress above your hips.
"Desperate, are we?" You purr, bitting down hard against her neck. She moans and nods, letting one of her hands move up to grip your jaw.
"Y/n," the soft look in her eyes is replaced with dark lust. "I need to fuck you. Now," she reiterates, grip on your jaw tight. Her thumb slips into your mouth, and as you suck on the digit she moans.
Your hands move to the bottom of her shirt, lifting the heavy, wet fabric over her head, along with her bra. Your fingers trace the tattoos that litter her collarbone, nails scratching lightly. You couldn't deny you were just as desperate for her. Natasha lets you up slightly to undo her jeans, pulling them down past her knees along with her underwear. She winces as you return to your previous position in her lap, hard cock rubbing against your still clothed pussy. She could feel you soaking through the thin material.
"God, I've missed this," you mumble as her lips reconnect with yours. You feel her fingers pull your underwear to the side, the tip of her cock rubbing against your aching cunt. Your hips hover over her length before slowly taking in a few inches.
The two of you moan loudly in the small car at the feeling, windows already fogged from your breathy groans.
"My pretty girl.. fuck," Natasha hisses as you lower yourself all the way down, feeling her thick cock stretching you out completely. "You were just made to take me," she moans again, hands resting on your hips. Your hands grip onto her shoulders, nails digging into the side of her neck. Her hands guide your hips to move, and you begin to ride her. Your eyes screw shut as she splits you in two, euphoria filling your veins with every movement of her own hips slapping up to meet your bounces.
"Look at you riding my cock, such a good girl for me," Natasha grunts as she watches your lips part, head thrown back in pleasure. "Taking every inch, fucking yourself on me," she pants out.
The coil in your stomach was building quickly, and as your legs began to grow weak, Natasha held tightly onto your hips, thrusting up into you harshly. Your mouth met hers again, and she swallowed your moans as you kissed her. "Baby I-I'm gonna cum," you moan out, whimpering as she shakes her head.
"Hold it. You cum with me or not at all," Natashas voice is stern, and your head falls forward into her neck. Your chests press together, and you can feel the piercings on her nipples rub against your dress as her arms wrap around your back to hold you in place.
"I wanna feel you soak my cock, god just listen to your pretty cunt make those noises," she moans. You can hear your wetness with every thrust, mixing the the rain hammering onto the roof of the car. The two of you are wet, sticky, and messy. Natashas primal urges to fuck you sending you closer and closer.
"Ohh, Nat, please I need to cum! Fill me up, baby," your moans turn higher pitched and she knows you won't last any longer, and neither will she.
"That's it, pretty girl.. cum for me. That's it, soak my cock, fuck, fuck!" Natashas mouth let's out a string of curses, fucking up into you mercilessly. The coil in your stomach snaps at her words, and you feel your orgasm hit hard. You moan her name loudly, body trembling as you feel her load fill you up, your hot walls swallowing every drop. Natashas hips finally slow to a stop, and you're left limp in her arms as the two of you pant against each others skin.
"So good, so good... my pretty girl..." Natasha whispers against your neck, holding you tightly. You stay like that for a while, head resting against her shoulder and just holding onto each other. The cool piercing on her lip brushes against your skin as she peppers kisses up to your face.
You lift your head to meet her soft green eyes with a smile, feeling her fingers brush your messy, damp hair out of your face. Before Natasha can even think to say it, you open your mouth.
"Hi," you giggle, earning a breathy laugh from the red head.
"Hi," she gives you a toothy grin and kisses your head.
****
The sunlight creeps through the windows, warming your skin. It was late in the morning, when you habitually reached out to grab your phone. Your heavy eyes barely peeking open as you check the screen. For a moment, in your sleepy morning haze, you looked for a 'good morning' text, but saw none.
It was then a pair of inked arms wrap around you from behind, and you smile to yourself, feeling Natashas body wrap around you protectively.
"Good morning," she mumbles tiredly against you, breath fanning the back of your neck. You chuckle and let yourself melt back into her hold, hands holding onto her arms as you drift back to sleep.
915 notes · View notes
landograndprix · 1 month
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╰┈➤ ❝ desire • l.n c.l ❞ xiii
part twelve - book 2
➪ Charles hasn't paid much attention to you after your daughter was born but a certain Brit does.
➪ life is going from bad to worse but maybe a bit of alone time is exactly what you need.
➪ mom!reader x dad!Charles x lando
➪ last part before we continue on desire book 2! Very annoyed because the site I used to edit the text messages is gone and now I have to change the whole aesthetic of the fic. Tag list is closed.
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y/nusername posted to their story
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landonorris replied to your story
landonorris
pick up your phone
where are you?
babe text me back pls
text me pls
baby I'm sorry
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y/nusername
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liked by charles_leclerc, manon_roux and 548,534 others
y/nusername week 14. 🇧🇪
view all 1,114 comments
norrizz absolutely foul that they set you up with Danica all the time 😂
↳ bott_ass is like they want a cat fight on live television 💀
norris4 did you and lando break up?
milliexoxo didn't invite me for some waffles? Rude.
↳ oscarpastry pretty sure you were in the wrong garage 😉
carlandooo millie and Logan confirmed? 👀
oscarpastry she was just in williams garage, doesn't have to mean anything ofcourse but they've been seen together a couple times 👀
bobnorris did you break up with lando???
joris__trouche douce petite fille avec sa nouvelle amie 🦁 (sweet baby girl with her new friend)
↳ leclerc_16 it's been a while since I saw uncle joris in the comments 😭
landoooo why are y'all asking her if her and lando broke up?!
↳ norry4 just a stupid rumor going around again..
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y/nusername
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liked by landonorris, charles_leclerc and 746,523
y/nusername rien que nous deux 🌞 (just the two of us)
view all 1,109 comments
norrizz oh..okay :(
hannahh going on a holiday all by myself with a toddler sounds like a nightmare to me, you go mom!
norry4 who remembers millie getting excited about her holiday to Greece with the 'norris bunch' 😔
↳ lan4lan stop she was so excited when y/n told her 😭
yukisan when was this?
norry4 one of mils her vlogs
hamilt44n fastest kid in the pool 🏎 💨
bott_ass put me in your suitcase next time please 😭
landoscar wonder why they broke up..
↳ clsixteen nothing had been confirmed yet, jeez y'all need to calm down
julieeeexo hope you guys enjoy your little girl vacation <3
landonorizzzz guys lando is still liking her posts, it's probably nothing (I'm delulu 😔)
↳ charliecharlie charles is also still in her likes and guess what they are? Not together anymore :(
landonorizzzz girl shut up 😭
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y/nusername posted to their story
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manon_roux replied to your story
manon_roux
Hi there, it's been a while and I completely understand if you don't want to speak to me and feel free to ignore this message but I've been seeing all the things they've written about you and everything that's happened and I just need to know if you're doing alright, making sure zoë is doing good
I know we don't see eye to eye anymore but you were my best friend since we were little kids so I'll always think about you, I hope you understand that
I'd apologise a thousand times for what I said and did but I also understand you're done withe me
I'm asking for you to give me your whole story but a thumbs up to let me know you're okay would ease my mind
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Desire taglist; @fangirl-dot-cm @sainzluvrr @writingworlds @chezmardybum @lewisvinga @xjval @fanficweasley @rockyhayzkid @aundercover @thecubanator2 @minchedchilli @crimeshowjunkie @alisoncasey21 @eeviepepi08 @shamelesspotatos @sleepybrokenmelle @leireggsworld @janeholt3 @iamahalicinationn @dessxoxsworld @kapsylia @22yuki
Everything taglist; @thomaslefteyebrow @hopefulinlove @smoothopz @softboystarkey @honethatty12 @cixrosie @parkersmjs @ireadthensuetheauthors @celestialams @be-your-coffee-pot @heli991113 @kodzuvk @reality-is-a-con @80sloverry @bibissparkles @myescapefromthislife @lanando4 @elliegrey2803 @ravisinghs-wife @harrysdimple05 @minkyungseokie @pretty-little-bunny382728 @thatgirlthatreadswattpad @severewobblerlightdragon @cherry-piee @namgification @mycenterfold @devineendevers @celestialend @jsjcue @d3kstar @themislovesf1 @geehsf @mehrmonga @gentlemonsterworld
Lando taglist: @beatricemiruna @simp-for-fictional-people @landossainz @christianpulisic10 @bored-brunette2 @i83andrew @mcmuppet @justdreamersdream
952 notes · View notes
redbullgirly · 4 months
Text
The Dancer [FA14 smau]
Fernando Alonoso x dancer!reader
Masterlist
Summary: Few months after, everybody laughs when they remember the rumors about Fernando Alonso and Taylor Swift dating. Would they laugh though if they new it maybe wasn't so far from truth as it may seem? Well, one thing's for sure - Y/N and Fernando will laugh very much while soft launching their relationship... and confusing everyone with swiftie content thanks to her job.
Warnings: Maybe wrong dates and timeline of The Eras Tour, but whatever XD.
messages between Y/N and Fernando
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fernandoalo_oficial posted on instagram
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liked by alex_albon, zhouguanyu24, pierregasly and 562,109 others
fernandoalo_oficial I was taken by the view like we were in Paris... romance is not dead.
view all 4001 comments
user1 i dont think my brain can comprehend so many things all at once😨
user2 right? I'M IN SHOCK
user3 fr fernando wants to give us a heart attack😭
lilymhe I see what you did here...
alex_albon I indeed see what he did here too...😏
user4 guys tell us what he did pls I'm begging youuuu
user5 Alonso soft launching was not on my 2024 bingo card
user6 him soft launching with TAYLOR SWIFT wasn't on MY bingo card 😭
user7 How he's suddenly so hot in the first pic? Like damn sir okay🫢
user8 girlfriend effect is real y'all
georgerussell63 Mate you can't do that to me, I just woke up 😧
user8 lmfao princess georgie is as confused as we are xd
fernandoalo_oficial sorry mate, don't get wrinkles🤞
gerogerussell63 What even is that choice of emoji?
fernandoalo_oficial well, someone is original with an emoji and someone is original with a pose... choice is yours 😃
georgerussell63 Stop it's been almost a year 😭
user9 not them bullying each other💀
user10 Yeah the duo we didn't know we needed
user11 I saw the first picture and almost spat out my drink in shock of such a hot photo of Nando. Then I swiped and literally choked on it because the last think I'd ever expect from his photo dump is a soft lunch of some baddie girl🫣
user12 I am delusional for thinking Taylonso could still have a chance, aren't I?
user13 well i mean you basically answered it yourself so... yeah XD
user14 OMG WHAAAAAAT😱
user15 oh no Fernando is not single anymore💔
user16 I think I accidentally teleported into some alternative universe... what is thiiiis?
user17 REAL
user18 fuck me this man seriously used lyrics from paris by ts💀
user19 Idk why but I kinda like this new side of Fernando😻
twitter
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yourusername posted on instagram
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liked by taylorswift, fernandoalo_oficial, carmenmmundt and 5,234 others
tagged: taylorswift and 9 others
yourusername crazy performance, even crazier night out and the most crazy training the day after... I call that the life of a dancer😻🎉 also my head and heart did go vroom vroom after the second pic
view all 218 comments
taylorswift I call that the eras tour life!💗
yourusername yes ma'am!
user1 damn she got our queen Taylor replying to her posts... how does it feel to live my dream?!😭
yourusername amazing! 🥰
user2 such a shame my mum didn't force me to try dancing when I was little... I could have been at podium next to Taylor Swift right now 😃
liked by the author
user3 You are such a good dancer, the shows wouldn't be the same without you Y/N!
yourusername omg thank u sm I really appreciate that!!🥹
user4 sooo... are we gonna just ignore Fernando in the likes or what???
user5 THAT'S WHAT I CAME HERE TO SAY
user6 fr I need some crazy detective from twitter to figure this out😫
carmenmmundt Hey, could you give me and lilymhe vip tickets...?
yourusername I mean... everything can be done 😏 I'll just need to ask mother Taylor bc I just used my plus one at the last concert🫡
lilymhe OH MY GOD WE LOVE YOU Y/N
yourusername I love you girls as well, we have to finally meet sometimes!!!
carmenmmundt Yeah, I think we'll have chance at the end of February at the latest😉
user7 WHAT IS HAPPENING HERE
user8 Omg are they hinting Y/N at the Bahrain GP?? F1 season starts at the end of February right?!
goergerussell63 Well hello there, nice to meet you Y/N... given the fact my dear girlfriend doesn't care about me, could you give me and alex_albon vip tickets as well?😊
alex_albon Yeah Y/N we are very big fans😊
yourusername everything for the guys that go vroom vroom🫡
alex_albon Like your heart
yourusername exactly!
user9 I AM FREAKING OUT
user9 MY BRAIN HURTS FROM HOW MUCH IS GOING ON
user9 WAIT FUCK I THINK I GOT IT
user9 AAAHHH I FEEL LIKE SHERLOCK MF HOLMES
twitter & messages between Y/N and Fernando
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yourusername posted on instagram
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liked by selenagomez, fernandoalo_oficial, francisca.cgomes, astonmartinf1 and 8,234 others
yourusername preparing for the next season🤞
view all 1,029 comments
user1 y/n is literally living my dream life rn
georgerussell63 Oh no... he infected you with that emoji, didn't he?
yourusername we'll never know... maybe I infected HIM with it
gourgerussell63 I think higher of you and your taste in emojis
yourusername aww thanks princess georgie how sweet🥰
georgerussell63 I take it back
user2 HELLO?! what is happening💀
dancer1 excuse me little miss y/n... is that a man i'm seeing?🤨
yourusername well... maybe
dancer2 Be fr she's trying to soft launch him for like a month now😭
dancer1 okay i'm calling you rn STAY WHERE YOU ARE
user3 Guys why's nobody talking about the paddock pass in the 5th picture!!!!
user4 omg that's a PADDOCK PASS?😱
user5 yeah it is I noticed it thanks to this comment
user6 Wait... does that mean her and Fernando have been together longer? Because she already went to a race before the winter break??
user5 idk girl we don't even know for sure she's really dating him😓
user6 idgaf about who's dating her bc even without bf y/n's sooo hot like damn... mommy🥵
user7 I'm so confused... is this Alonso's girl or not?
user8 trust me user7 - we'd all like to know that😭
user9 😍
yourusername and fernandoalo_oficial posted on instagram stories
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yourusername story has been seen by taylorswift, lance_stroll and 13,634 others
fernandoalo_oficial story has been seen by charles_leclerc, astonmartinf1 and 308,003 others
user1 replied to yourusername story: is that an f1 driver there y/n
dancer1 replied to yourusername story: Hope he'll not disappoint me in person when you talked about him sm 😒
yourusername ohhh trust me you'll love him just as I do🥰
dancer1 omg bleeeeh I hope not 🫣
user2 replied to yourusername story: your friends are so pretty😩
taylorswift replied to yourusername story: When you'll take him to get my approval??
yourusername soon taylor, soon... I'm just afraid it'll break the internet lol
taylorswift I think we're used to that already with Travis at this point😂
yourusername true😭
fernandoalo_official replied to yourusername story: 🔥
yourusername it's going to be okay, they'll love you 🫶
fernandoalo_oficial how did you know I was nervous amor?
yourusername I saw you literally shaking when you left to the bathroom love...😹
yourusername oh they're back come quickly!!💞
fernandoalo_oficial onmw
user3 replied to fernandoalo_oficial story: IS THIS THE CONFIRMATION WE NEEDED?!
user4 replied to fernandoalo_oficial story: I see what you're doing here old man 👀
user5 replied to fernandoalo_oficial story: soft launch slowly turning into a hard launch and I'm here for it!!!!
dancer1 replied to fernandoalo_oficial story: I guess you aren't that bad in person...
fernandoalo_oficial 😁
user6 replied to fernandoalo_oficial story: screaming crying throwing up
taylorswift replied to fernandoalo_oficial story: You better treat my best dancer right Alonso!🤍
fernandoalo_oficial of course ma'am! 🫡
user7 replied to fernandoalo_oficial story: So cute!!😍
messages between Y/N and Fernando
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fernandoalo_oficial posted on instagram
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liked by maxverstappen1, oscarpiastri, f1, yourusername and 601,239 others
tagged: yourusername
fernandoalo_oficial All these people think love's for show but I would die for you in secret... #swiftie
view all 6,022 comments
yourusername I'd just like to make it clear to everybody that it's me who made him be swiftie... you're welcome💋
liked by the author
user1 OMG THE LYRICS FROM PEACE BY TAYLOR
carmenmmundt Y/N is so pretty!😍
yourusername ohh carmen ilysm you're even prettier🥹
user2 No way Fernando just really har launched his gf😭
f1 We smell a new wag!
user4 LOL you're kinda late for that admin xd
user5 Congrats and wish you well world champ!💪
user6 can we talk about how gorgeous she is???
lilymhe double date when honey?
yourusername anytime babeee!!!
fernandoalo_oficial why do I have a feeling me and alex_albon will be third-wheeling on you two?🤨
alex_albon you'll eventually get used to third-wheeling your own girlfriend and her friends, trust me fernando...🤠
user7 This girl is like a goddess, I can't even blame him ❤️🔥
user8 mommy & daddy
georgerussell63 Finally! Congratulation on the hard launch mate👍
fernandoalo_oficial and look who's original with emojis now...😂
user9 from now on this is my fav couple
user10 mine to
user11 SHUT UP THE DELULU GIRLIES ON TWITTER WERE RIGHT
lance_stroll 💚💚
user12 nah I don't know what he see in her🙄
user13 Go away we don't want the jealous haters here 🥱
kellypiquet Welcome to the F1 family yourusername!🤍
yourusername thx!💞
user14 i call this couple goals
user15 I'M SO READY FOR BOYFRIEND MATERIAL ALONSO
user16 I can already feel he'll be so hot in his new era 😩
user17 lmao nando in his swiftie and stlutty era as someone on twitter said😹
yourusername swiftie and slutty era? i like the sound of it😏
user16 not y/n reading all the comments sipping over her bf 💀
liked by yourusername
THE END
Author's Note: Hello everyone, hope you liked it! I'm not sure you should get used to me posting so often, but let's say that after Lance's social media au and the great feedback I had so much motivation... plus I'm sick, so I actually have the time to write and create XD. Anyway, I'll be glad for likes, comments, reblog and every other way of showing support! Have a great day and let me know how you liked Nando and swiftie dancer together!
492 notes · View notes
thalfbloodloser · 20 days
Text
i wish we had alloaro representation in media. a charming character who fucks - both literally AND aesthetically. one that makes other characters go "wow! they're so cool and good in bed, but ultimately un-datable, because as soon as they sense any romantic intention on you, they flee" (kinda like lucifer morningstar from "lucifer". he's aroallo in my heart)
a character who's funny and has a horrifyingly 80's sense of fashion (they have a curly combed-out mullet and mismatched earrings. you'll find them at pride wearing a corn costume because it "matches the aroallo flag" and they're "being subtle") or one who's the embodiment of a 60's greaser (their motorcycle helmet is themed after the aro flag and the back of their leather jacket says "LOVELESS / LOVE LOSES") or one who's a girly fanfiction writer that has more ships than a star wars movie (their fics are muntifandom-ly famous and most their stuff is covered in yaoi/yuri patches and stickers. everyone thinks they're a hopeless romantic because of it, but that's exactly why they're so big on the fiction ≠ reality discourse) or...
anyone else, really. just ultimately a HUMAN who's casually aromantic. one who doesn't make it a parade but isn't subtle about it, either. will they hold other character's hands? maybe. kiss their cheek? perhaps. hang out with them, on picnics and walks along the river? can't see why not! but platonically. or maybe have them be genuinely romance-repulsed & not so eager to participate in anything socially perceived as romantic. that would also be amazing.
let them express themselves sexually! let them fuck. give them a..."fuckbuddy", if you must. or a best friend who's sexually involved with them - classic romcom material, i know - but without it being "complicated"; because there's no romance involved to complicate it.
give them funny scenes. another character tries to kiss their lips or ask them on a date? they laugh nervously, the scene cuts and we get a hilarious shot of them escaping through the bathroom window. or audibly saying "ew" and then regretting it. another character is struggling to write a romcom/romance book without it being corny? we get a scene where our character casually describes the most romantical (and, to them, unappealing) plot ever - because, much like aces acing the smut department, they're far from misunderstanding what is or isn't heartstopping for alloromantics - only to have the other character stare at them like "?????????? HELLO????". give us a scene of them being confused as to why their hookup is yelling at them for acting "so casual" and responding with a quotable shitty line ("just because we had sex last night i can't call you "bro"? / "what? expected me to marry you or something? get off my bed, it's 9AM" / "would you rather have me mad? sad? what's happening here. give me a hint")
but give them complicated scenes too. scenes portraying the loneliness that comes with being aromantic but not asexual, the lack of community. them talking about how hard it is to maintain sexual relationships just sexual. the painful "breakups" because one of their friends declared their undying love for them but they cannot possibly match that energy, even if they wanted to. have them weep because somehow that keeps happening. the unfairness in being accused of heartlessness and selfishness by other queers. the shame on being told they're fetishistic and the reason why queer men/women/people are seen as sex-crazed or impure.
...anyways, i'm rambling- do y'all have any aroallo ocs? or ideas for alloaro characters? maybe aroallo headcanons? i'd love to know what you think! :)
(don't tag as #ace / #asexual / #asexuality)
259 notes · View notes
gabigabigabby · 8 months
Text
all the love in rome | l. norris
lando norris x sainz!reader
the landosainz saga
part two here!
a/n: more y/nlando content since you all seem to love them! rome edition + suzuka dump
synopsis: y/n and lando arrive in rome after the japanese gp
face claim: sophia weber
ynsainzzz
Rome, Italy
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liked by landonorris, pierregasly and 858,022 others
ynsainzzz only bc he promised me unlimited pizza the entire trip 🥹
tagged: landonorris
view all 63,521 comments
landonorris No I promised you I'd love you till the day I die
ynsainzzz landonorris potato potahto lan 🤷🏼‍♀️
carlossainz55 I only invited Lando Y/N
ynsainzzz carlossainz55 i never said i came to support you, you dork
carlossainz55 ynsainzzz what is dork? Translate please
carlosandynnn y/n in romeeee to support carlos 😭😭
ynsainzzz carlosandynnn ik i'm such a good sister
francisca.cgomes i miss youuuu
ynsainzzz francisca.cgomes miss you moreeee!!! pls take me away from lando
landonorris ynsainzzz hey!!! 🥺
kellypiquet 😍😍
ynsainzzz liked kellypiquet's comment
danielricciardo Still cannot believe you are a Sainz
ynsainzzz danielricciardo i'm sorry you're stupid danny
username ynsainzzz i love y/n and daniel's friendship
georgerussell63 Eat as many pizzas for me as you can! Let me know how it is when we see each other 😉
ynsainzzz georgerussell63 anything for you georgie boo 😘
ynsainzzz
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liked by oscarpiastri, carlossainz55 and 773,926 others
ynsainzzz ALSOOOO heard y'all wanted a suzuka dump from me since lando's "unreliable" and "busy with lando.jpg" — so here it is 💋
ps. sorry for the sudden red jumpscare in what is supposed to be a dump of #papayateam — carlitos is getting mad that he never appears in my photo dumps and thinks i don't love him anymore 🙄
pps. also yes, lando has a cute butt. i tell him that every day
tagged: landonorris, scuderiaferrari, carlossainz55, mclaren, oscarpiastri
view all 79,266 comments
carlossainz55 Do you not love me anymore
ynsainzzz carlossainz55 carlos i— no. i don't love you anymore. is that what you wanted to hear
scuderiaferrari Might steal that pic for our own photo dumps 👀
ynsainzzz scuderiaferrari ferrari does photo dumps now???? ok slay
landonorris She's a photo taker 🥰
ynsainzzz landonorris bestie it's called a photographer. and yes i'm much better than you are
landonorris My butt is cute
ynsainzzz landonorris i've been telling ya
pierregasly This dump is so nice to look at
ynsainzzz pierregasly learn from your master
heidiberger_ happy for you guys ahhhh 🧡🧡🧡
ynsainzzz heidiberger_ miss you 💋
oscarpiastri You're the man 🧡
ynsainzzz oscarpiastri i truly am
username obsessed obsessed obsessed
ayelandooo what a good time it is to be a papaya fan 😭🧡
sleepylando that fifth pic is literally my username i am in love
ynsainzzz's story
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979 notes · View notes
psychwxrdd · 3 months
Text
tag, you're it
⋆ ˚。⋆୨ ʚɞ ୧⋆ ˚。⋆⋆ ˚。⋆୨ ʚɞ ୧⋆ ˚。⋆
summary: roman's obsession grows to extreme points.
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warnings: dark! roman (lol as if he wasn't dark himself), horror themes, kidnap, obsession, stalking, i just listened to this song after YEARS and i got so many memories from roman fmv's with melanie martinez songs 😭 honestly so nostalgic. also i'm still writing the chapters for the collector series and the requests y'all send me, i'll write all of them, i'm really trying my best to write in all the small free moments i have!! but i promise it's gonna be all done babes 💕
There she was, again. My sweet girl. My reason to breathe. She was heading to school, still very early in the morning, the sky still looked a bit dark. It was winter, it felt like the most cold in months, years even.
She couldn't be real. It didn't looked real. I've never seen anything quite this beautiful, i didn't knew anything could ever look this beautiful. Didn't knew any human being could be so ethereal. Her gorgeous face covered by almost no makeup at all, i would guess she had mascara on, at the most. Her cheeks and the tip of her nose looked pink due to the weather. Her hair looked so beautiful, healthy, shiny... I would die for a touch. She looked so sweet, so cute with the warm clothes around her, her scarf giving a "out of a movie" look. Actually, with or without scarf, she naturally had that look. Something out of a fairytale, too good to be true.
I was watching from inside the car, she probably couldn't even tell there was a person in it since my windows are dark enough. My hands were shaking a bit, but not from cold.
I had to do this. Had to have her, needed to. There was no other option, i'd much rather die than live a life where she's not mine forever.
God, she would look so gorgeous covered in blood.
"Hey! Good morning, Y/n!" I smiled, when she pass near to my door. My heart was running out of rhytm, i thought i would faint at any second. I knew she would cry, i knew i would ruin her life, i knew all of this. I knew nothing would stop me, tho.
"Hi Roman!" she smiled brightly, making me melt inside. Such a doll. I want to see this smile till my last breath. She would grow to love me back at some point too, i know. Her scent filled the air and it got me intoxicated, god, she belonged to me.
"You're heading to school?"
"Yeah!"
"Wanna a cab?"
She stared at the other side of the street, wondering what she should answer. What a good girl.
"C'mon we go to the same school, it's on my way already" I winked, with the sweetest smile i could do.
"Ok." she agreed, with a shy smile. I almost passed out with excitment, opening the door for her.
"I have some candy, if you want"
"I'd love one!"
I grabbed some and gave it to her soft hands. I was so happy to know that i could touch her soft skin forever from now on.
Didn't took long for her head to fall into my shoulder. There you go. My sweet girl.
190 notes · View notes
xpao-bearx · 1 year
Text
"Like A Virgin"
Steven Grant x Fem!Reader/Jake Lockley x Fem!Reader/Marc Spector x Fem!Reader
Read Part 1 HERE
Read Part 2 HERE
Read Part 3 HERE
NOTES: I literally put my whole heart and pussy into the previous part and it's just so THRILLING to see all the immense love and support!! 🥺❤️❤️❤️
I'm reeeally hoping y'all will like this part, too! Steven has an extremely special place in my heart, but this time we're shifting focus and giving our lovably murderous Moon Boy JAKE his time to shine!! \(^o^)/
Now as we all know, Jake unfortunately hasn't had a lot of screen time yet. I also watched Moon Knight for the third time and besides his confirmed appearance in the post-credits, there are some other more subtle scenes that I'm PRETTY sure Jake was in and it was a lot of fun for me to think so and obsess over!
But I digress! Anywhore, as I was saying, since Jake hasn't been on a lot the way I write him is PURELY made up. Of course, I try my best to capture the vibes I personally get from him, but until Season 2 drops (because I am NOT giving up on that) we don't know for certain what his personality's actually like (and I haven't read the comics please don't shoot me). It was a little challenging, but I really enjoyed getting to explore Jake and his perspective quite a bit! Though he ended up being a bit sadder than I intended CUZ THIS BOI JUST NEEDS AND DESERVES A WHOLE LOTTA LOVIN'❣️
Furthermore, I am not a Spanish speaker. Jake obviously is and I wanna stay as true as possible to the character by having him speak some (*cough* S E X Y *cough*) Spanish throughout, but if I made any mistakes at all then please kindly correct me as I mainly just use Google Translate and/or search up Spanish terms! For example, I was made aware that "ese" means "that" in Spanish. However, it's also Spanish slang for "dude", "man", etc. and I just find it fitting for Jake to call the boys that 😅
Also, Jake is...rough 😳 Don't worry, he loves and cares about you a LOT, but this is a fair WARNING in case you're not into that! And this part got pretty long, IDK I probs blacked out somewhere in the middle and this is le horny result~
Additionally, do y'all think the relationship between reader x Steven/the boys is going too fast? I really try to make it as natural as possible, but hey this is only fiction after all and I think Steven, for one, falls in love FAST since in the show he was already simping for Layla the first time they met 😂 But I can't judge Steven cuz I'd be the same if I ever met Oscar Isaac I mean, I'm already simping now but YOU GET IT
And a lil funny coincidoink, Like A Virgin came on the radio which I guess was your guys' universal push for me to continue this ASAP!
I truly am sorry for the wait!! Life is hard but I simp harder xD
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Part 4: Gonna give you all my love, boy
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Your chest rose and fell with each soft, blissful snore. Your face void of any burden, open and peaceful; plump lips parted slightly, looking so kissable. And that's exactly what Steven did, lonely lips descending to meet yours--his slumbering goddess.
An insatiable part of him longed for you to awaken, to spend more time fumbling around in the sheets until sunrise. But he knew, more than anyone else, that sleep was important. And he had no doubt that after all the...unique events that progressed your relationship, you deserved all the rest you can get.
Like the proper gentleman he was, he had cleaned you up before snuggling in bed together until dreams inevitably consumed you. And now here you were, using one of his arms that he can't feel anymore as your pillow and your bodies exchanging heat.
Then his mouth lowered, down your chin, to your throat, and to the delicate dip between your neck and shoulder. Planting butterfly kisses on your skin, lips tracing and eyes memorizing every perfect imperfection that dotted your body like constellations.
He noticed your breathing slowly growing uneven, your nipples salaciously peaking through your tank top. He knew he had to stop. He had to, but...
He lifted his free hand, inching towards your breasts before freezing, clenching into a tight fist that had his nails digging into his palm.
His cheeks bloomed red, pulling away and laying on his back as he stared up blankly at the ceiling. What the fuck was he doing?
"Jake, mate... I know you're there, might as well say something, yeah?" Steven whispered.
'Your senses are improving, ese.' Jake snickered. 'Is that why you stopped? No need to be shy, it's just the same as watching porn.'
Steven turned redder, clearing his throat. "Jake, you know you can meet Y/N too, right?"
Silence greeted him. Steven waited patiently, giving his alter all the time he needed. As rough around the edges as they may be, the boys all cared about each other and Steven knew that all Jake needed--deserved--was time. Hell, he and Marc didn't even know Jake existed for a while until he finally felt comfortable enough to reveal himself.
'Nah, ese.' Jake snorted, though his voice held a certain heaviness to it. 'She's all yours. You deserve her, Steven.'
"You're a part of me, Jake. You deserve her, too."
'Don't think your little cariño would appreciate it so much that you're wanting to hand her off to some other asshole.' Jake scoffed.
"I'm not 'handing her off', you git. I wanna...share." Steven mumbled the latter, gulping thickly.
'Steven...' Jake sighed, but Steven sensed intrigue in his tone. 'I don't know what the fuck you expect from this talk, ese. We only share the same body, that's it.'
"You're lying and you know it. Two months working with Y/N, I never said anything, but I knew you were always there. This damn body isn't the only thing we share, 'cause I know your feelings are just the same as mine."
It was then that you mewled softly, shifting and wrapping an arm around Steven's waist and cuddling close to his side with a content little smile on your lips as you slept.
Steven melted and he felt Jake do so, too.
"I'm not giving you an out, mate." Steven chuckled, pressing a tender kiss to the top of your head. "I'm absolutely buggered and so are you."
♡•••🌙•••♡
Steven, that absolute fucking puta.
As soon as Jake opened his eyes, dread filled him. Slowly turning his head and seeing your back to him, he knew Steven gave up control at some point and forced Jake to come out from the shadows.
He's tried multiple times to drag that pendejo back out, but Steven has obviously put up a block between them. Jake sighed frustratedly, his gaze lingering on you once more.
His heart ached. And fuck it hurts.
He wasn't Steven.
He did not deserve you.
He was dirty--rotten. He was only good for causing pain; even the ways in which he protected the boys were brutal, inhumane.
And he loved the chaos. Thrived in it.
When Steven met you for the first time, two months ago, that was what Jake intended to cause as well. Pain. Heartbreak.
Nothing more than another pretty notch to add to his belt.
But you...surprised him. You actually cared about Steven, gave him basic human respect and the time of day when no one else did and just fucking listened. Accepted him with open arms and such a kind, blinding smile. And pretty soon, Jake yearned for that, too. From you. Just you.
You didn't even know he existed--you didn't fucking care about him--and yet you smashed his glass heart into a thousand pieces, leaving him to find the sharpest shard and continuously stab himself as punishment.
That's what he deserved. Not you.
But oh... You looked so cold. Why were you so far away? What the hell were you thinking, pulling away from him?
Like a lion stalking its prey, Jake crawled towards you until he was on top of you. His dark eyes trailed down your sleeping form, so beautiful, so vulnerable. He didn't realize his hand was shaking slightly as it reached up to caress your face, breath hitching as his thumb glided across your bottom lip before slowly slipping it inside your mouth.
He watched, completely entranced, as your saliva coated his thumb and the way in which you squirmed so that you were now laying on your back, facing him. You were still asleep, though your brows creased together and your breathing grew shallow.
What were you dreaming about, Jake wondered? Were you dreaming about last night? Steven didn't feel him then, but Jake was there and it was the best torture he's ever endured.
He can make you feel good--better. And if there was any room in your heart (and legs) for him, he'd more than happily prove it to you.
But you were so kind, so sweet... Surely you'd accept him, too, right?
Surely you'd relieve him of his huge fucking hard-on, right?
He found himself lowering, lowering, lowering--then stopped just as his lips were about to meet yours.
No...
You didn't deserve this. You didn't deserve him.
As if he was just burnt, he sprang away from you and sat at the foot of the bed, keeping as much distance as possible. His head hung low, hands scrubbing his face in frustration before turning into self-loathing slaps.
He quickly got a hold of himself, lest you have a cruel awakening to him. Not Steven.
He looked over his shoulder. You really did look cold. He unchained the ankle restraint then stood up, walking over to your side and tucking the blanket over your unfairly scantily clad body.
God... How he wished he was the one keeping you warm.
He then shook his head, glancing towards the wall clock. 5:40 a.m.
He can sneak out and do some business for Khonshu. And by the time he returns, hopefully Steven does, too.
He has to.
♡•••🌙•••♡
You rolled over in bed, expecting to cuddle up next to something much more solid than a pillow. Your brows furrowed, a hand flying out to pat the bed and not finding what--who--it was seeking.
Your eyes snapped open and you bolted upright. You looked around in a frenzy, eyes still bleary with sleep and finding the apartment completely empty.
You then noticed the time on the wall clock. 7:20 a.m.
You were off work today, but you weren't sure if Steven had a shift. But even if he did, it was still too early for the museum to open.
So...
Where the hell was Steven?
He couldn't have ditched you...could he? No, that wasn't possible, this was his flat.
But wait... What if this was his subtle way of telling you to get lost? That he didn't want to see you still here when he comes back from wherever the fuck he went to?
You overstayed your welcome, didn't you? This was what it was about, isn't it? This was all your fault, right?
You were on the verge of hyperventilating when, at the corner of your eye, you spotted a bright yellow sticky note on top of the books on the bedside table. You quickly ripped it off, reading the messy, rushed handwriting.
Don't know when I'll be back. Just relax. Food for you is in the kitchen, amor.
You blinked away tears you didn't realize were forming once, twice, then bursted into laughter.
"Fuck, seriously, what is wrong with me?" You berated yourself, still laughing.
This was Steven. Of course he would never abandon you, and you would never abandon him.
He proved it to you, after all. The memories of last night terrorizing your brain once more, making you blush like a virgin (which you were--for now).
You wanted to prove yourself to him, too. And you're sure you'll think of something, but at the moment you became distracted as your eyes landed on Steven's black sweatshirt sprawled carelessly across the floor.
You put on your glasses then hopped off of the bed and picked up the sweatshirt, tugging it on and letting out a giggle as it drooped over your thighs, turning the sleeves into little hand mittens and your body and heart just feeling so warm.
You ambled over to the kitchen, seeing a plate of slightly burnt toast and scrambled eggs clumsily covered in plastic wrap on the small dining table. You chuckled softly, taking the plastic off before sitting down and having breakfast.
As you chewed, once again your brain couldn't help but wander off.
It was only a little thing. Such a stupid thing, really. But still, it just would not stop nagging you.
Amor. It was French for 'love'.
But... Steven didn't spell it with a U. It was supposed to be amour.
Amor, no U, was the Spanish spelling. And Steven, who seemed fluent in French, should know that.
But people make mistakes, and who were you to judge such a minuscule, silly mistake?
Before you could entertain yourself by ruminating over such nonsense some more, your ears perked up when you heard the lock click and the door opening and shutting close. You kept quiet, watching as Steven slowly trudged in.
He was wearing a flat cap and a trench coat, and from your spot in the kitchen he hasn't noticed you yet. But he looked...different.
You couldn't quite explain it, but he seemed...tense. On edge. An air of agitation surrounding him, stiff in his movements yet carrying a sense of confidence at the same time.
Wild.
You then swallowed, standing up from your chair and silently making your way over to Steven with his back turned to you as he busied himself with stripping off his coat and hanging it on the coat rack.
You wrapped your arms around his waist, feeling him jolt. But before he could react, you spoke up.
"I missed you..." You murmured, embracing him more tightly as you pressed your cheek to his back. "Don't do that again, please. At least wake me up if you're leaving."
Steven didn't say anything, completely rigid and gloved hands balled into tight fists.
Then it clicked.
"You're not Steven...are you?"
His shoulders jerked, and you pulled your face away to look up at him. But you never removed your arms, keeping them in place around his waist.
Then his shoulders drooped, hearing him take a sharp intake of breath before ever so slowly turning his head over his shoulder.
"Caught red-handed." His lips curled up into a smirk, dark eyes gleaming down at you. "You're much more observant than I thought, princesa."
Your breath hitched, mouth agape and eyes blown wide as you gawked at him. You didn't know what to feel. Well, there was definitely excitement, but you weren't sure if it was appropriate for you to feel such a way.
Regardless, you were glad Steven was open and honest with you from the get-go. You knew, at some point, it was inevitable that you'd meet the two other men he's mentioned. So, you weren't too taken aback to be experiencing this right now.
"Judging from your accent and what you called me just now... You must be Jake?" You queried, cocking your head to the side as you stared up at him. Funny, he shared the exact same body as Steven, but he was still...different. The way he held himself, the little quirk to his lips, the look in his eyes--it was all very distinct.
"Don't see why you gotta keep asking me questions, princesa. Seems like ya got it all figured out." Jake scoffed, amusement in his tone.
"Well... You certainly made an...impression when you asked me out." You spoke slowly, carefully, as if not daring to spook some wild animal. You wanted Jake to feel safe, welcomed; because it felt like Jake hasn't at all expected to be here right now, but you wanted to let him know that you didn't mind him. You were happy to be meeting him.
But Jake took it the wrong way. He read your body language as aloof, like you were just trying to be polite. And why wouldn't you be? You were naturally kind, but he knew better.
He was absolutely not supposed to be here. He was never supposed to meet you, never planned to. After all, you preferred Steven.
...Didn't you?
His jaw ticked, his hands untangling your arms around his waist before he spun on his heel to fully face you. You gasped as he did, paling at the sight of blood on his shirt.
"What happened?!" You panicked, your hands immediately touching his body, eyes frantically searching for any injuries. "Did someone hurt you?! Oh my god, who did this to you?!"
"It's not my blood."
You froze, a chill coursing through your veins. Slowly, your head tilted up, meeting his gaze. It was much darker than before, flecks of savagery brewing within. And yet, you also saw...loneliness.
Longing.
"Are you scared, Y/N?"
You held your breath, his voice cracking as he uttered your name for the first time. It was a simple question that had a painfully simple answer.
"I am."
Jake shut his eyes, inhaling deeply and letting it out in a wavering breath.
He fucking knew it.
"Jake..." His eyes snapped open at your voice, so soft, so unexpectedly calm. "Will you...hurt me?"
"I would never." He whispered--promised--holding your gaze sincerely. "I couldn't."
"I'm scared of the...things you can do, Jake." You admitted, noticing his Adam's apple bob as he gulped. His gaze fell to the floor, but you reached up, gently cupping the side of his face. "But...I'm not scared of you."
Jake met your eyes once more, his hardened expression softening as he sighed, nuzzling into your comforting hand. For the first time in a long time, he felt...safe. He was not one of Khonshu's pawns, he was not Steven or Marc's ruthless protector, he was simply...
Jake Lockley.
"I'm sorry..." He murmured, trembling hand reaching out and caressing your cheek; tenderly, fondly, lovingly. "I...was never supposed to meet you. I was fine watching you quietly. But last night, Steven said he wanted us to meet. For me to be a...part of what you have with him."
A deafening silence rang in your ears. Jake watched you with those intense, soulful eyes, brows furrowed and jaw clenched as he waited with bated breath for your reaction. Any reaction.
"Jake..." You have no idea how you even managed to speak, your volatile heartbeat replacing the silence. "Take a shower first, we'll talk after."
♡•••🌙•••♡
Water dripped from Jake's hair, his hands pressed against the wall with his head tilted down as he watched the pristine white tiles of the shower's floor stain red.
This was an all too familiar situation for him. Washing off blood that didn't belong to him, his body getting cleaned though never his damned soul. But it never bothered him before...until now.
He knew there was a chance you'd be awake when he returned, but he figured that he can just pretend to be Steven at least until that idiot takes control of the body again. Jake's done it convincingly enough a few times before back when Steven and Marc were still unaware of his existence, acting as one of them whenever something triggered them and he suddenly had to front.
But when you hugged him, he just...froze. It felt as if he was struck by lightning because this was real--you were real. Your heart-wrenching kindness and beauty were all directed towards him, and he was no longer just a pathetic fly on the wall through Steven's eyes.
But how could he be so fucking dumb? He never should've shown himself, he should've stayed away from the apartment even if it took all day and just let Steven deal with the consequences. And yet...he came back.
Because, the absolute truth is, he wanted to meet you. At his very core, he was a selfish bastard who wanted to be with you, no matter the punishment inflicted on him--he inflicts on himself.
But was he really being selfish?
As drastically different as they were, Steven and Marc managed to control their own separate lives. Steven had his job that he despised, but also the comfort of regularly getting a paycheck that provided for his daily needs. Marc was Khonshu's (main) Avatar and as draining as it was, he could still unwind after a long day with a pack of beer and a Chicago Cubs game playing on TV.
And then, of course, there were Moon Knight and Mr. Knight that ultimately tied them together.
But what about Jake? Was he nothing more than a punching bag for Marc and Steven, only seizing command and handling whatever shitshow they got themselves into that they were too weak to finish?
Jake knew that was his job--his purpose. And honestly, it was okay. He cared about the boys, and keeping them safe meant the same for him as well.
...Until you came along. And for the first fucking time, he actually wanted something. Yearned for someone. Just for himself, and not because of anyone else's expectations or demands of him.
He didn't realize it until you came crashing into Steven's--and his--life like some fucking meteorite, but he was empty. And on the extremely rare occasions that Jake was entitled to the body all for himself, he grew tired of being tired from aimlessly hopping bar to bar. Nearly wiping all his fucking memories out with heavy drinks and the need--the desperation--to forget about the problems he deliberately ignores, hides, even for one single measly night through fucking some random stranger he didn't and won't ever care about.
But you weren't a stranger, that was perfectly clear. Days bled into weeks, and weeks into months; and here you were now, looking all cute--tempting--wearing Steven's sweatshirt, eating breakfast in his home, as his girlfriend.
Steven's girlfriend. Not Jake's girlfriend.
"Jake, you know you can meet Y/N too, right?"
Steven's words from last night echoed in Jake's head, taunting him. And the ridiculous proposition that followed afterwards, of the two of them sharing you.
"You're a part of me, Jake. You deserve her, too."
And maybe, just maybe...Steven's right.
Maybe Jake did deserve you.
But did you deserve him?
"What's got you looking all emo?" Jake's head abruptly whipped around, seeing you with one hand holding the shower curtain open while the other clutched onto a towel covering your body.
Your naked body.
Jake's mouth went dry, completely paralyzed. All he could do was let his eyes scan you from head to toe, undressing you in his mind. He's already seen you last night and he thought he'd be fine just basking you in from Steven's point of view, but oh...he thought dead wrong.
Because now he really wanted to touch you. Feel you. Make you come undone, all because of him. All for him.
"What the hell are you doing here?" His question came out sharper than he intended it to, eyes narrowing as he watched your gaze drop, shifting on your feet uncertainly along with the tantalizing way you bit your lip.
You seemed to be engaging in a silent war with yourself before you shook your head, straightening up as you dared to meet his eyes and slowly dropped the towel to the floor.
"I told Steven this before, but I prefer to get things over with." You smiled a bit sheepishly, stepping into the shower; the warm drizzle of water helped to thaw the ice cold sensation anxiety gripped you with. "I'm a very impatient woman, Mr. Lockley."
"And you think jumping into the shower completely naked with a man you barely know is the answer to your impatience, señorita?" Jake arched a brow, an amused smirk playing on his lips.
"Well, it's not like I can get into the shower with clothes on, right? That's just fucking stupid." You scoffed, playfully rolling your eyes. "Besides... It's because I want to get to know you that I'm here."
"This is a dangerous game you're playing, princesa." Jake murmured, his smirk instantly vanishing; that furrowed brows, clenched jaw sternness once more overtaking his striking features as he regarded you. "I'm not your sweet, sensitive little boyfriend. I'm not Steven." He practically hissed out the name, though there was more sadness to it than venom.
"This isn't a game to me, Jake." You stated firmly, standing your ground as you held your chin high and levelled your gaze with his. "None of this is. I take Steven very seriously--I take our relationship very seriously." You paused, taking a deep, shaky breath. "And I know, maybe I'm moving too fast, and I totally understand your doubts about this--about me. But I'm not a fucking dumbass. I know you're not Steven and I like you, anyway."
Jake was rarely speechless, but even as his mouth parted to say something--anything--nothing came out. He felt something fall down his cheek, and he wasn't too sure if it was water or the strange liquid that suddenly made his vision all blurry.
But he didn't have much time to ponder on it when your hand gently pressed against his cheek, your eyes kind and full of adoration, the same adoration you always bless Steven with and something Jake believed was only a far-off miracle for him.
"Y/N..." He choked out, glossy dark eyes intently set on you. "I'm a monster."
"You're not a monster, Jake." You were quick to counter, taking a step closer, now being chest to chest with Jake. "You're a part of Steven, and anything--anyone--that's a part of him is beautiful. And you sure as hell deserve to live your own life, too. And, well, if you'll have me..." You blushed, looking down. "...I would really, really like to get to know you better, Jake Lockley."
Silence smothered you, wrapping its invisible claws around your neck, and you now fully understood what people meant when they say something takes forever. You thought it would be easier and much less frightening if the ground actually opened up and swallowed you whole, but Jake finally put you out of your misery, his hand turning off the shower and a low chuckle bubbling out of him.
"Well... Damn." He smirked, cocking his head down at you, though his smug demeanour couldn't mask the rosiness that dusted his cheeks. "You really do like me and Steven, huh, querida? Or maybe it's just your boobs up against me that's convincing me."
"Well, if it's helping you to believe me, then I'm not complaining." You giggled, wrapping your arms around his neck, pushing your breasts against him. Both of your breaths stuttered at the close, intimate contact, and you whimpered as his hands landed on your hips, callused fingers squeezing your soft flesh.
"Dios mío..." He growled lowly, his hands slowly, reverently travelling up the curves of your body, leaving a burning wake, before dipping once more and giving your ass a hard smack.
"Ah..!" You gasped, lurching forward, your face bumping against his solid chest. You felt his chest vibrate as a deep laugh rumbled out of him, one hand fisting your hair and pulling your head back.
"I ain't lying when I said I'm not your sweet, sensitive boyfriend." There was mania in his eyes, baring shiny white teeth as he grinned widely at you; like a shark who's smelled blood--your blood--from a mile away, he's set his target and can't be satisfied by anything, anyone else. "Then again, if you could see Steven's thoughts like I can, 'sweet and sensitive' aren't completely accurate for him."
You gulped, but not from fear. You squeezed your thighs together, pupils dilating as you stared up at Jake. "I-I don't mind if you or Steven aren't sweet and sensitive. I wanna be treated nice, but there are plenty of ways 'nice' can be translated to..." You placed a hand on his abs, lips parting as you traced along his taut muscles, looking like some fucking Greek sculpture--a god--with the way his wet body shimmered a divine bronze. "Don't you think so...Papi?"
With no warning, you felt the air get knocked out of you as his lips collided with yours, attacking you; tongues intertwining with a clash of teeth, the moist smack of your lips harmonizing with the vulgar moans Jake drew out of you.
You felt Jake's neediness, the desperation underlying his roughness--as if this was not just the first, but the only time he'd get to kiss you and have you for himself.
As if you'd ever allow for this to be the only time.
Your hands fell to his shoulders, nails breaking his skin and marking him with crescent indents. He groaned as you did, kissing you with even more fervour, fiery passion never ceasing as you both chased after that hellish ecstasy; seizing, bruising, suffocating you.
More, more, more. Giving and taking, taking, taking.
You just could never have enough, clueless as to where you started and Jake ended, Jake's tongue practically down your throat now. You know you needed air, your eyes rolling to the back of your head, but your body refused.
If this was how you died, then you'd die an elated woman.
But Jake suddenly pulled away from you, making you whine loudly. Your hands pawed at his chest, tears springing to your eyes and your ears couldn't even register the pitiful pleas that tumbled out of your mouth for more, more, more.
"You're such a fucking slut, aren't you, mi amor?" Jake snickered, one hand wrapping around your neck, thumb stroking the column of your throat, squeezing just enough to feel as if your head was floating. "Steven always saw you as this pure, innocent angel. But you're not, aren't you? You wanna be corrupted, don't you? You wanna be my pretty little devil, slut?"
"I'll be anything for you, Papi." You replied breathlessly, tears staining your scarlet cheeks. "Just be my everything."
"I'll be whatever--do whatever--for you, mi vida." His voice was low, barely above a whisper, but you heard him loud and clear, his earnesty and sweetness cloying. His other hand caressed your face before he leaned down, his tongue licking away your salty tears, a reprieve from the rapturous flames that engulfed him. "Now... What do you want Papi to do?" He purred, smirking wolfishly down at you. "You want me to fuck you? Spread your little virgin pussy, fill you up with my cock? Wanna see how much you can take, cariño. Take all my cum, don't waste a single fucking drop."
As tempting as his filthy words were, as much as you wanted to, you remembered how Steven refused to have sex with you last night. Of his promise that he'll make love to you another time, when he was better prepared with condoms. And fuck, you wanted him--them--so badly. Steven and Jake. But you respected Steven and his decision, and you did also want for your lovemaking to be special.
"Can I taste your cock, Papi?" You asked, biting your lip as you met Jake's gaze shyly. You felt like a mouse and he was the lion, yet you held the power in whatever was going to happen. "I-I promise I'll take it all... Take all your cum, like a good girl."
Jake knew that you chose not to have sex with him out of respect for Steven, and that only made him love you more. He felt a pang in his heart and a smile tugged up the corners of his lips, eyes locking with yours, full of tenderness and affection.
Right then and there, he knew that you were "the one". For him and Steven.
"Get on your knees like a good fucking girl, then." He breathed, and you didn't hesitate as you instantly dropped to your knees, breasts jiggling slightly as you did. Your eyes widened as his cock stood proudly, mere inches away from your face.
"I...I'm sorry if I'm...bad." Your voice came out as a squeak, mentally slapping yourself before clearing your throat. "I-I've never done this before!"
"You better have not or else I'll hunt down and kill all the fuckers you've ever been with." He barked out a laugh, but his eyes were dark and serious.
Murder was not something Jake Lockley ever joked about, after all.
Strangely enough, you found his possessiveness...sexy. Which only meant that Jake was already corrupting you.
But was that really such a bad thing?
You shook your head, focusing on the cock--erm, task--at hand. Your hand wrapped around his shaft, hearing Jake breathe sharply through his nose as you did. You licked your lips as you watched the pre-cum drip out of the tip, so curious, so transfixed like a moth to a flame.
Your tongue then darted out, experimentally licking the milky fluid. Jake threw his head back with a guttural groan; you've barely even started, and it made you fucking giddy that he reacted like this.
"Jake..." You murmured, giggling softly. You peered up at him through your long lashes, flashing him a dazzling smile. "You're so beautiful, Jake."
"That ain't something you should call a man, mi vida." Jake scoffed, but the crimson tint on his cheeks have spread like wildfire to the tips of his ears and neck. "Especially not when you're the beautiful one."
"Going soft on me now, Jakey?" You teased lightheartedly, slowly beginning to stroke his length.
Jake's breath hitched, brows furrowing as he watched you intently, attentively. "You really are a little devil, Y/N." He chuckled deeply, and you knew that meant trouble. "You think I'm going soft? Looks like you really have a lot you need to know about me."
Like before, his hand fisted your hair, pulling your head back and making you look up at him. "Open up, slut." And you did, opening your mouth and sticking your tongue out. You flinched slightly as his cock hit your tongue, his other hand grabbing his member and moving it around on your tongue, painting it white.
"Now you're gonna be a good cocksucker, got it?" He grinned down devilishly at you, eyes twinkling with sheer, wicked glee. "You're gonna make Papi cum, like the good whore that you are."
You nodded hastily, eagerly. And you just couldn't fucking take it anymore, jostling forward and burying his cock in your wet, hot mouth.
"That's. Fucking. It." Jake hissed, his grip on your hair tightening ever so slightly. Slowly, you began to bob your head, your mouth accommodating his size. You briefly wondered how anyone could ever even compare this to a banana or a popsicle stick; it was much bigger and your jaw started to hurt, which Jake quickly noticed as you tensed.
"Hey, relax." He cooed, reaching down to tenderly wipe away the tears you didn't realize were flowing down your cheeks. "Easy, Y/N. Relax your mouth, loosen up your throat... Fuck, yeah, that's it. Keep going, hermosa."
With newfound confidence and assurance, you gradually increased your pace. You hollowed your cheeks, your tongue sliding along the underside of his cock with each rhythmic bop of your head. Up, down, up, down--Jake's sinful groans bouncing off the walls of the bathroom, never breaking eye contact as you burned all of him into memory.
Then your surprised gasp was muffled as his foot pressed against your clit, only offering you a cocky smirk in return.
He began to move his foot, his toes budging your clit and stroking along your pussy. You moaned around his cock, grinding against his foot for more friction. Then his other hand grabbed onto your hair, both of his hands now pushing and pulling your head up, down, up, down--drool spilling down the sides of your mouth, resisting the urge to gag as the tip of Jake's cock pounded your throat, your hands floundering to his thighs as you clung on for dear life.
"Fuck, look at you... Una putita tan bonita solo para mí." He laughed, the thrusts of his hips growing fiercer, more rabid as he mercilessly fucked your throat. "Wanna taste me, mi vida? Think you've earned it?"
All you could do was nod, nod, nod--looking up at him pleadingly as you continued to desperately grind yourself against his foot, your own orgasm fast approaching.
Jake's jeering laughter soon stuttered into a heavy, gasping moan; his eyes squeezing shut as his head fell back, hitting the wall. You felt his cock twitch, releasing his seed, shooting down your throat and his balls slamming against your chin.
Your own release coated Jake's foot, your entire body shuddering from the intensity of it all and coughing as Jake finally withdrew his cock out of your mouth. But you didn't have time to revel in the afterglow as Jake's hand wrapped around your neck once more, dragging you up and crashing his lips with yours. You swapped spit and cum, but neither of you cared; the two of you groping, squeezing, clinging onto each other any which way your needy hands could fumble.
You didn't keep track anymore of who pulled away first, laughter ringing in your ears as you both grinned at each other; spent, happy.
The dawn of something new, exciting, promising shining between the two of you.
Wordlessly, Jake turned on the shower again. Then he grabbed the soap, his hands gliding along your smooth skin, his lips attaching to the crook of your neck where he could see the faint pinpricks of his handprint slowly materializing.
"Did I hurt you, mi vida?" As rough of a lover as Jake was, none of his pleasure mattered if you didn't enjoy yourself.
"A little bit." You admitted, wrapping your arms around his neck and kissing the top of his head. "But it's okay. I...liked it." You blushed furiously.
"Fuck..." He grumbled, pulling away and looking very much like a kicked puppy, something that you thought only Steven was a pro at. "As cute as you are blushing like that, princesa, I'm so fucking sorry. I know I should know when to stop, when to be gentle...but those are not really what I'm good at." His eyes drifted down, and you can tell that he had a lot more to say. A lot more to regret. "I'm sorry, Y/N."
"I forgive you, Jake. Now please... Stop beating yourself up, okay?" You cupped his face, pecking his nose and meeting his gaze. "I'm not lying when I said I liked it, but don't blame yourself too much. I also should've done something, spoken up if it was too painful for me." Your fingers ran through his hair, smiling softly, lovingly at him. "All of this is new for me--for us. But it's okay, 'cause we can learn together, yeah? And if you'd like, we can come up with a safe word if things get too rough."
Jake hesitated, wondering if you were really telling the truth and not just trying to comfort him. But one look at your sweet, loving smile was more than enough for his worries and doubts to fade away, his own smile gracing his lips and his hands holding your own that were so gently, kindly cupping his face.
"I think that would be great. Any idea what the safe word should be?"
"I was thinking 'Khonshu'." Your answer made Jake snort before he bursted into laughter, you joining shortly after.
"Mi vida, if you say that bastardo's name while we're fucking, you really are gonna make me go soft." He chuckled, pinching your cheek and kissing your forehead.
"Fine, fine! Clearly coming up with a safe word is what I'm not good at. Let's figure it out together." You playfully rolled your eyes, giggling and kissing his cheek. "Anyway, I'll head out first. But don't take too long or else I'll jump in the shower with you again and for the sake of Steven's water expenses, you do not want that happening."
"On one condition, señorita. You have to wear my clothes when you get out, not Steven's." He hummed to which you laughed and nodded, but just as you were about to step out of the shower, Jake suddenly grabbed your wrist and pulled you back to his chest.
He leaned down to your ear, voice a low purr as he spoke; like it was a secret, a sacred oath between only the two of you.
"El amor de mi vida, mi salvavidas... Nunca te dejaré ir."
Your lips curled up into a smile, your heart swelling achingly within your chest. You turned around and leaned up on your tiptoes, your lips melting perfectly together with Jake's, becoming one.
"I love you, Jake Lockley." You whispered, sealing your oath. "Now... Don't keep me waiting. You know I'm an impatient woman."
Jake watched with a dumb, lovestruck grin as you pulled away giggling, finally stepping out of the shower and closing the bathroom door behind you. And as soon as you were gone, Jake piped up to the other occupant in the bathroom.
"Steven, ese... I know you're there, might as well say something, huh?"
'Bloody HELL, mate...' Steven's words stumbled out in a rushed, breathless breath. 'That was MENTAL.'
"You're welcome for the free show, ese." Jake chuckled, standing under the spray of the shower as he washed himself off.
Although Jake couldn't see Steven, he knew that the poor, flustered English man was having a damn heart attack at this very moment.
'That was...that was...' Steven was completely at a loss for words, making Jake smirk.
"The hottest fucking thing you've ever seen? Yeah, I know. Y/N's our sexy girlfriend, after all." Jake turned off the shower, hopping out and drying himself off with a towel. "You're right, by the way. We're both absolutely fucked."
'I'm just glad it all worked out, mate.' Steven replied, relief and happiness flooding his voice. 'You deserve her. WE deserve her. It's just...' He trailed off, sighing deeply. 'Now that I think about it, I'm worried about Marc.'
"Fuck Marc." Jake snapped, his eyes settling on the mirror, Steven's reflection staring back at him with an anxious crease between his brows and lips downturned. "We deserve to live our own lives, too, Steven. That cabrón's just gonna have to deal with it."
And deal with it, Marc will. But...
You'll have to deal with Marc, too.
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kazutora-kurokawa · 4 months
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Mechanic!Draken x Cheater!Reader
♡ NSFW, Fem Reader, Reader has a bf but he's stupid, Draken owns Shinichiro's old bike shop and has also started working on cars, cheating obviously, pet names, praise + slight degradation towards the end, mention of breeding, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it y'all!) & creampie ♡
note: I wrote this at 1 am alongside the breeding headcanons I posted because I couldn't sleep plus I'm on my period and I'm feral for fictional men rn
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"Be back soon babe! Going to the mechanic to get the car checked out." Is what you said to your boyfriend before you left out. Not like he cared though, he didn't even bother to look up from his phone to say goodbye. He wouldn't know what was going on behind his back even if he wanted to. It's the little things that really give away what you're up to. The way you dress a little nicer, the bright smile painted on your face, the pep in your step on the way out the door. That's just the things he could see, but doesn't notice. He has no clue about the things that go on behind closed doors. The subtle glances, the touchiness, the suggestive conversations. Who would've guessed that you'd be cheating on him with the mechanic he goes to?
It started around a month ago, that was when you first went with your boyfriend to a small motorcycle shop that just so happened to work on cars too. That was also when you met him. Ryuguji Ken, better known as Draken. He was tall, muscular, handsome, charismatic, and a very skilled mechanic. At first you were slightly intimidated by his stature, but you could tell he was kind hearted. Obviously not kind hearted enough to not fuck his customer's girlfriend though.
The table in the backroom of the shop rocked back and forth as Draken thrusted into your soaked pussy. Hands holding onto your shoulders and strings of curses and praises falling from his lips.
"You feel so good princess, gripping me so fucking tight~"
This was a weekly occurrence. You'd leave your apartment or job and head straight to the bike shop. You'd enter and head right to the backroom, that's where he always is, waiting just for you. He'd bend you over a table, put you up against the wall, or sit on a chair and have you ride him til you creamed all over him.
He liked to take note of everything that was happening in the moment. The little whimpers you produced when he hit a certain spot, the way your nails clawed at the edge of the table, the lewd noises your pussy made when he slammed his dick into you. But the slight bulge he felt when he put one of his hands on your tummy was the tipping point for him, he wanted, no actually he needed to fill your tight cunt with his cum.
"I'm so close baby, is it okay if I fill you up pretty girl?"
All you could do was whine in agreement, not able to form a single word as his thick cock rearranged your guts. He moved his hands to your waist, roughly squeezing your sides as he picked up his pace, ramming into you as deeply as possible. Your incoherent whimpers turned into loud moans of his name as he slid one of his hands between your legs to play with your clit. He knew you were close, he could feel your legs shaking and your pussy clenching around him.
"I fuck you so much better than he does, don't I? If you were mine, I'd be breeding your pretty little pussy everyday. You'd like that wouldn't you, you filthy little cheater?"
You tried to answer him, but your sentences came out all jumbled up. Draken could make out one word in particular though: please. And who was he to deny you the right to be filled to the brim? He continued to fuck you, even after you had already came. His cock overstimulating your messy pussy as he came inside you, leaving you warm and satisfied. As he pulled out he leaned down to kiss you on your shoulder blade.
"Come on, let's get you cleaned up princess."
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Tagging @arlerts-angel and @i-literally-cant-with-this
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bellaxgiornata · 7 months
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Falling For the Devil [Part ninety: "The Ring"]
Pairing: Matt Murdock x Fem!Reader Word Count: 4.5k
Summary: Matt takes Foggy with him to finally buy an engagement ring for you.
Or You continually almost stumble onto Matt's hiding places for the ring in the apartment.
[Series of one-shots about Reader meeting, falling for, and dating Matt Murdock.]
Warnings: 18+ for this series; contains humor, fluff, romance, angst, smut, violence
a/n: One of the updates y'all have been waiting for! It's mostly in Matt's POV but that alternates near the end. Also, this installment means the proposal is now fair game to appear at ANY TIME. Feedback is always appreciated! Also, how am I at NINETY of these now??
Tag List: @ninacottee @mattkinsella @stilldreaming666 @murdocksclient @mascamp02 @1988-fiend @linmarr @pinkratts @schneeflocky @acharliecoxedfan @yarrystyleeza @theetherealbloom @danzer8705 @lionalsowrites @harperdoodle @kmc1989 @lunaticgurly @mattmurdocks6thscaleapartment
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Monday
“Alright, Matt,” Foggy said with a sigh.
Matt heard the way Foggy stepped inside his office and leant up against the doorframe before loosening his tie. The sound of fabric fibers rubbing against each other was sharp and loud as it met Matt’s ears. His head rose up from his work, his fingers pausing on the braille before him as he focused on Foggy in the doorway, sending him a tight smile.
“What is this super secret thing you wanted to do with me after work today that absolutely could not wait for another day?” Foggy asked.
Matt's brows drew together as he reached over, his fingers pushing up the sleeve of his shirtt as he felt for the time on his watch. “It’s already five?” he asked, double-checking for himself.
“Yup, buddy,” Foggy answered, running a hand through his hair. “The day dragged on, but alas, it is finally over. Or, at least, the work day is. Though my day is not, since, you know, you practically begged me to assist you this evening with something that you would tell me nothing about."
Internally Matt disagreed with the sentiment about the day dragging on as he began to gather up the papers scattered along his desk. For him, it felt like the day had flown by. He'd been trying to focus on his work all day today, but truthfully all he could think about was finding the perfect engagement ring later once he'd finished at the office. He had absolutely no clue what the first thing was when it came to picking an engagement ring. 
And if Matt was being honest, this was the first time in a long time that he found himself feeling self-conscious about being blind. Because it wasn't like he could see all the different styles and options of rings to find the one he wanted–the perfect one that you'd hopefully wear on your finger for years to come. The one that felt like it fit you . The one you'd say yes to. Admittedly it pained him to ask for help with something so personal and intimate, even if Foggy was like a brother to him. He desperately wished this was something he could do on his own. 
"So are you going to tell me what we're doing?" Foggy questioned again. "Is it something to do with Daredevil? Because I'll be honest, buddy, I'm not so sure I want to get involved in anything illegal. I'd like to retain my ability to practice law after all the hard work I put into getting that degree."
Matt laughed lightly, sliding his chair back from his desk. "It's nothing illegal. And it's nothing to do with…that aspect of my life."
"Okay, so then why the cloak and dagger?" Foggy pressed. "If it's not about Daredevil then I don't get what's with–"
Matt's head tilted to the side, his dark brows pinching together the moment he heard Foggy suck in a sharp breath. He abruptly crossed the room, planting both of his hands firmly on Matt's desk.
"Matthew Michael Murdock are you doing what I think you're doing?" Foggy asked, his question hushed and fast.
"I suppose that depends on what you think I'm doing," Matt countered slowly, rising to his feet.
"Are you–" Foggy leaned in closer to him, "– proposing ?"
A grin drew itself onto Matt’s face, one that he couldn’t possibly fight back. Not as the memory of you calling him family from the other day flashed through his mind.
"Well, I need a ring first," he answered.
Foggy’s right hand curled into a fist before he pumped it up and into the air so abruptly that it took Matt by surprise. The loud whoop he emitted next had managed to last a duration of two seconds before Matt had thrown his hand forward, waving it frantically at Foggy and quickly trying to calm him down as panic shot through him.
"Fog, relax," Matt said in a hushed tone, already hearing the clicking of Karen's heels heading towards his office. "I'd like to keep this between us for now so it can remain a surprise."
"Sorry, you just don't know how excited I am right now," Foggy replied in an excited rush. "You don't know how long I've been waiting for this moment, man. I just–"
"What're you so excited about that you're shouting in here without me?" Karen asked, cutting Foggy off. “What moment have you been waiting for?”
Matt could hear the hard swallow from Foggy, noticing the way his friend’s palms had begun to sweat. He was nervous. Which meant Matt probably needed to come up with a fast lie to get Karen off this topic as quick as possible, especially because he was certain that subtle shift in the air was from her gaze curiously dancing back and forth between the pair of them.
“For that new bakery opening up near his apartment,” Matt said, straightening his tie. “He’s been talking about it all week.”
Karen’s eyes narrowed, her head tilting to the side. “He has?” she asked.
Foggy let out a nervous laugh, the sound of which had Matt struggling not to wince. If he kept it up, she’d figure out what was going on in no time. Karen was far too smart and perceptive.
“Suppose it was only to me then,” Matt replied, cutting Fog off before he could speak. “Consider yourself lucky. If I have to hear about bear claws again I might stuff tissues in my ears.”
“Mmm,” Karen hummed out. “Well, I suppose I’m heading home for the night. Unless either of you need anything?”
“No, Karen, we’re just about to head out, too,” Matt said quickly, shooting her a wide smile. “We’ll see you tomorrow morning then.”
“Right,” she replied slowly, dragging the word out. 
There was a brief pause before she said goodbye, and then both Matt and Foggy remained absolutely silent until they’d heard the main office door shut and her heels clicking down the hallway. Foggy exhaled an audible breath, rubbing a hand across his forehead.
“Sorry, Matt,” he apologized. “I forgot she was even here for a moment. It's just–you're going to ask your girl to marry you! This is fantastic news!"
“It’s alright,” Matt assured him with a grin. “But can we just keep this between the pair of us? I’m not sure exactly when I’m proposing, but I’d like it to be a surprise for her. So I’d prefer Karen and Marci not finding out ahead of time–especially Marci. We both know she can’t keep a secret.”
Foggy laughed lightly, shaking his head. “No, that she absolutely cannot do,” he agreed. “So do you know where you want to go to look, or–”
“I know exactly where I want to go,” Matt replied, cutting Foggy off as he made his way around his desk. “I just don’t know exactly what to get.”
“Well you’re in luck, buddy,” Foggy told him. “Because I’ve done this before and it resulted in a positive outcome, so I’d like to think that makes me an expert when it comes to engagement ring shopping.”
Matt chuckled, shaking his head. “I’m counting on it, Foggy.”
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Matt’s fingers ran over the ring in his hand, his lips pursed as he tried to focus on the feel of it. Bringing Foggy with shopping for an engagement ring had proved helpful, he had to admit, but the final decision ultimately came down to him. And picking out a ring hadn’t been easy so far, either. 
Currently he had narrowed his choices down to two, but he was torn between them. One was a yellow gold ring with a solitaire pear-shaped diamond, and the other was a white gold ring with a round solitaire diamond surrounded by a series of smaller ones–apparently called a ‘halo.’ He’d eventually concluded that the ring styles with multitudes of diamonds just didn’t suit you. Because you were not flashy and loud, but rather delicate and understated yourself. He figured he wanted a ring that reflected that, one you’d feel comfortable wearing.
But he was also torn between something he thought you’d like–because the woman helping him had assured Matt that solitaire pear-shaped diamond engagement rings were definitely in right now–or something he thought reflected the relationship you both had. The round solitaire with the halo of diamonds was the one he’d been leaning towards; as tacky as it sounded, the circular shape of the diamond did signify that there was no beginning or end to his love for you, plus it was classic and timeless. And the idea of a halo suited you, after all.
His thumb ran over the pear-shaped diamond again, the tip of it pricking the pad of his finger each time. A frown settled on Matt’s lips.
“What is it?” Foggy asked quietly, leaning in towards him. “You look deep in thought.”
“This one just doesn’t feel right,” Matt murmured, the tip of the diamond sharply catching on his finger again. “In more way than one.”
“Then it’s not the one,” Foggy said simply, plucking it out of Matt’s fingers. "What about the other one? What's that one making you feel?"
Foggy placed the round cut ring into Matt's upturned palm. He could feel the weight of the woman's eyes on him from behind the counter, clearly hoping for a sale. He tried to ignore it as he ran his fingers over the shape of it. Nothing caught his skin uncomfortably as he did, not like the other ring. 
For a moment he stood there, feeling the ring in his hand. He imagined it on your finger as he held your hand–the pair of you out at dinner, sitting on the couch together, or after he'd come home from his night out as Daredevil. He imagined running his thumb along it as he called you his fiancé, hearing the way the muscles would shift in your face as you smiled. Gradually a small smile slid onto his lips at the thought, his thumb running over the diamonds again as he imagined feeling it on your finger with a second band, finally being able to call you his wife. 
"It feels like it's for her," he whispered to Foggy. "This is the one. This is her ring."
"Yes!" Foggy exclaimed, clapping Matt excitedly on the back. "I think I'm shaking in excitement over here, man! I can't believe this is finally happening!"
Matt's smiling face focused back down on the ring in his hand. "I can," he told him. "Because it was always going to be her for me. Knew it from the moment she first stumbled into Josie's."
"Now you just need to propose," Foggy told him, patting him on the back again.
Nerves swirled in Matt’s stomach at the thought of finally asking you that life altering question. He'd had an idea planned for that moment for quite a long time now and he only hoped you liked it when he did finally ask.
"I just hope she says yes," Matt whispered. 
"Of course she will," Foggy said, nudging him with his elbow. "Don't overthink it. She’s crazy in love with you, too. Anyone can see it just by looking at her face, Matt."
Tuesday
You awkwardly unlocked the apartment door while trying not to spill the contents of the takeout bag in your hands. Tonight had been a late night at the office for you, having been busy working on meeting a deadline for Ellison before you left. You'd called Matt at his office earlier, telling him that you'd be the one running late tonight and that you'd grab dinner from the Thai restaurant around the corner before you came home so that he didn’t have to worry about cooking.
Opening the door and stepping inside, you were surprised to be met with silence. Confusion washing over you, you wondered if maybe something had happened in Hell’s Kitchen and Matt had gone out early. As you took your shoes off, placing them under the bench and out of the way so no one would trip on them, you noticed the doors to the closet where Matt kept the trunk of his father's things and his Daredevil suit was partially ajar. 
Brows knitting together, you made your way down the entryway hall towards it. If Matt had gone out, he'd have fully shut the doors after getting dressed. It seemed odd he'd have been in that much of a hurry to forget that.
Though when you neared the closet, you spotted one of his red gloves lying on the floor just behind one of the chairs. Frowning, you stepped over towards it and bent down to pick it up–which was when you finally found Matt.
Dressed in a black-tee shirt and gray sweatpants, his large body was curled up on the leather couch under the plush blanket you'd replaced his plaid one with. He was fast asleep, looking absolutely peaceful, but your heart nearly melted when you spotted Mittens' dark gray body curled into a tight ball against Matt’s chest. Nestled in between Matt's muscular arms, the cat looked even smaller than usual.
A smile gradually made its way onto your lips as you watched the pair of them for a moment. They both looked comfortable and content sleeping as they cuddled up together. Despite Matt’s attempts to tell you he wasn't a cat person–or a pet person of any sort–you'd noticed how often he was usually talking to or playing with the cat. Often when he passed by Mittens laying in his cat tree that you’d recently gotten him, Matt would always stop to pet him. It was such a common occurrence that even Mittens expected it, usually raising his head and softly mewing at Matt whenever he neared.
Glancing down at the glove in your hand, you figured Mittens must have gotten into Matt’s trunk while he was asleep. You knew some nights Matt came home exhausted and didn't fully shut and lock the trunk after himself. Mittens must have opened the closet with his little paws and somehow pushed the lid open. Though how the cat had somehow managed to pull his glove out from under that false bottom was an absolute mystery to you. 
Quietly you crossed the living room, making your way over towards the kitchen table to set down the bag of takeout. When you turned, intending to put away Matt's glove, you spotted him groggily sitting up awake on the couch.
"Hey, Matty," you said, making your way back across the living room. "I just got home. I grabbed dinner–it's on the table. I'm just picking up quick if you want to get started on dinner."
"Picking up?" he asked drowsily. “Picking up what?”
His head was tracking your movements across the apartment, his expression switching from drowsy to alert suddenly.
"Yeah, it looks like Mittens got into your trunk again," you told him. "Pulled out a glove. I was just going to–"
"I got it," he said in a rush. 
You hadn't even had a chance to open your mouth to respond before Matt was at your side, removing the glove from your hand. He sent you a tense smile before he gestured his head towards the kitchen.
"You had a long day," he continued. "Why don't you go start on dinner? I can put this away."
You stood there confused, blinking at him and his odd behavior for a moment. After a few seconds, when he urged you a second time to go get some food, you finally nodded and turned. Heading back towards the kitchen to get everything plated for dinner, you briefly wondered what that had been about.
Wednesday 
"Uncle Matt! Uncle Matt!"
The sound of his name ringing out so enthusiastically in the apartment by your now almost four year old nephew easily put the biggest smile onto Matt’s face. He'd barely managed to exit the entryway hall after taking his shoes off before he heard Hudson racing across the apartment. The boy nearly knocked him over when he threw his arms around Matt’s leg, clinging to him in an excited hug.
"Hey, Huds," Matt said with a warm chuckle. "Your aunt told me you might still be here when I got home and I was hoping she was right. I missed you, buddy."
Matt reached his hand down, affectionately ruffling the boy's hair. Hudson giggled, releasing Matt’s leg only long enough to grab onto his hand instead. Matt could hear the way your smile grew from your place on the couch in the living room, watching as Hudson began to drag him into the room further. His heart swelled–he loved you and your family, even if he could still feel Amber occasionally giving him the side-eye when she was around.
“Huds, why don’t we let Matt have a minute to relax?” you suggested. “He just got in the door from work, bud. He might want to get changed.”
Hudson didn’t remotely let up his hold at your suggestion, continuing to drag Matt around the couch. His little hand had a surprisingly strong grip for a toddler. 
Matt shook his head at you, the smile still spread wide over his face. “That’s alright, sweetheart,” he assured you. “I don’t mind at all.”
“I finally got to meet Mittens, Uncle Matt!” Hudson exclaimed, finally dragging Matt to a stop beside the coffee table–though he didn’t relinquish his hold on Matt’s hand. “Hes so soft and cute! And he really liked my dinosaurs!”
“He did?” Matt asked curiously, head tilting to the side.
“Yeah!” Hudson replied. “Momma got me some new ones. Mittens was running around playing with them. It was silly, wasn’t it, auntie?”
Matt heard the way you pushed yourself up from the couch, his attention curiously shifting towards you.
“Yeah, he definitely was having a blast with them,” you agreed, lowering down to your knees before the couch. “And I think he might’ve knocked a couple under here, actually. Ahh, yeah, here they are.”
“There was another one over there,” Hudson said.
Matt’s heart sped up in his chest when he noticed Hudson was pointing near the other side of the apartment. A sharp spike of adrenaline shot through him because he’d moved your engagement ring from the trunk with his suit to behind the radiator after you almost found it last night when he’d been napping on the couch.
“Where’d it go again?” you asked. “Behind the radiator?”
Matt heard the way the air shifted as Hudson nodded his head. The moment he heard you making your way over there he panicked. If you looked back there you’d surely see the ring box he’d tried to hide and he didn’t want to propose to you right here and now, not like this. He had something more planned for that.
“You know what?” Matt said quickly, shooting you a nervous smile as he began walking swiftly towards the radiator. “I can grab it. Don’t worry about it.”
He heard the way you paused, one of your brows raising onto your forehead. He could practically hear you thinking about how weird he was being right now. 
“You’ve had a tough week at the office,” Matt continued, turning and heading over towards the radiator while you were still hesitating. “Just enjoy the time with Hudson.”
“I mean it’s…not that hard to grab something from behind there, Matt,” you said slowly.
His mouth went dry when he heard the strange tone to your voice. Like you thought he was acting off. 
Because admittedly he was.
“Exactly!” he exclaimed.
He shot you a smile over his shoulder as he bent down, sticking his hand behind the radiator. Your eyes were watching him so carefully that he could feel your stare as his fingers brushed over the velvet box. Still smiling at you, he deftly managed to grab both the box and the little dinosaur, pocketing the box discreetly into his suit pocket as he held up the dinosaur in his other hand.
“Found it!” he called out, palms sweating.
Thursday  
Stacking your clean bras in the top drawer of the dresser, you overheard the apartment door opening and closing. You smiled to yourself as you made your way back to the bed, grabbing a stack of your clean socks next. You’d loved living with Matt, adjusting a little faster than you’d anticipated despite some of the small mishaps the pair of you had had over the past couple weeks. 
Glancing up as you headed back to your dresser drawer, you caught sight of Mittens. He’d followed you into the bedroom a bit ago when you’d brought in the load of clean laundry and began to sort through it. He’d long since fallen asleep in his little hammock by the window when you’d started folding the laundry, but the sound of Matt shuffling through the living room had caused him to stir awake. His green eyes were blinking tired and slow, focused on the bedroom door as if he expected Matt to step through.
And sure enough, as you were closing the drawer of the dresser, you felt a pair of hands slip around your waist. The smile on your mouth only grew wider when he leaned over your shoulder, planting a kiss to your cheek.
“Missed you today, sweetheart,” Matt murmured.
“I missed you, too,” you said, turning in his arms. “But we did talk on the phone through part of lunch today, if you remember.”
He hummed in response, nodding his head. “Ahh yes, how could I forget? Katy had some very detailed things to tell you about her date the other night even though she knew you were on the phone with me.”
“Yeah,” you said with a laugh. “She has no shame, that one.”
“Mmm, no, but I’m glad she’s fixated on someone else’s cake for now,” Matt said.
“Ahh yes,” you replied, making your way back towards the bed when Matt released you from his hold. “I’ve heard her talk about that a little too much today, actually. Though she did still say yours is superior, so do not fret, Matt.”
You giggled at the sound of Matt’s groan as you picked up his stack of boxers. Turning, you made your way back towards the dresser, though you noticed the way Matt tensed. Before you could even reach out and open the drawer, Matt had tossed an arm out in front of you, blocking you from the dresser. Taken by surprise, you stopped abruptly and pulled a face.
“What’re you doing?” you asked him.
“I should ask you that as well,” Matt quickly shot back.
You glanced down at the stack of freshly laundered black boxers in your hands. Slowly your attention shifted back up to Matt. One of your brows rose up onto your forehead, your eyes narrowing suspiciously at him.
“Putting away your clean laundry,” you replied. “Obviously.”
Matt’s hands flew forward, taking you yet again by surprise when he grabbed the stack from your hands. The smile on his face looked forced, which only had your eyes narrowing further.
“How about I finish putting away my laundry and you can start the oven?” he asked. “I’ll finish taking care of dinner once I get changed.”
Your eyes gradually slid down towards the dresser, noticing how Matt was now blocking it more fully with his body. Which was…odd.
“Is there something in there you don’t want me to see?” you asked him curiously. “Because I–”
“No!” Matt replied quickly, his smile growing even wider as he shook his head. “No, not at all,” he added, his voice an octave higher than usual. “I just want you to–”
“Relax?” you cut in. “Yeah, you’ve been saying that all week. It’s getting kind of weird, actually.”
“Well you’ve just been so stressed at the Bulletin and dealing with me home most of the week,” Matt told you. “I figured since I’m here I can try to give you some breaks, right? So why don’t you start the oven and relax your pretty little self on the couch with one of your shows, sweetheart. Let me finish this.”
For a moment you stood there, eyeing Matt suspiciously. He was up to something, that much was obvious. But what remained a mystery to you. 
Figuring it had something to do with Daredevil, you sighed and nodded before heading out of the bedroom.
Sunday  
Matt could hear the tension in Foggy’s muscles as he slid the living room window open. From his place on the fire escape, Matt could still hear Marci in their bathroom presumably washing the makeup off of her face.
"What the hell are you doing here, Matt?" Foggy hissed through the opening. "You know you can stop by dressed in normal clothes using the front door, right? Not popping up on the fire escape dressed like that ." 
Foggy dramatically waved his hand, gesturing at Matt’s Daredevil suit. Matt sighed before holding up the box in his hand, hearing the way Foggy gasped the moment he noticed it.
"Wait, are you proposing to her?" Foggy asked in shock. "Oh buddy, please tell me you're not doing it in the suit. Because as much as I'm sure you think she might enjoy it, I don't think she'd actually want you–"
"Fog, stop," Matt said, waving his hand at him. "Of course I'm not proposing to her in the suit. I'm not proposing tonight, I just came to ask you a huge favor."
He heard the way Foggy’s eyes narrowed, his head tilting curiously to the side. In the other room, Marci was still thankfully washing her face.
"What sort of favor are we talking about?" he asked slowly.
"Can you keep this here?" Matt practically begged, holding the box with the ring in it higher. "Preferably somewhere Marci can't find it and spoil the surprise? Because I have been going insane this week, Fog. Every time I hide it somewhere I think she'd never go–the radiator, next to my suit in the trunk, my damn shoes–she keeps almost finding it. And Fog, buddy, I can't take the anxiety anymore. I swear she must already think something is going on."
"Okay, yeah, sure," Foggy replied, accepting the box Matt practically shoved at him. "I can keep it safe here until you need it."
"Oh thank God," Matt said with a relieved sigh. "You have no idea how grateful I am. I owe you one."
"Think you owe me more than one, Matt," Foggy countered.
Matt sent Foggy a sheepish smile. He was about to respond when he heard the faucet turn off in the bathroom. 
"Marci is about done, I got to go," Matt said in a rush. "Hide that somewhere good, please. But…don't forget where, either."
As Matt turned and hopped over the fire escape railing, he caught Foggy’s promise to safeguard his ring, considering it his first duty as Best Man. The comment had Matt grinning as he continued to make his way down the side of the building.
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lelelego · 8 months
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⭐I'M OPEN FOR COMMISSIONS!⭐
hi y'all!! after a very long time i'm easing back into the commissions scene for a bit :^D
✅ will draw: fanart, ocs (love d&d comms!!), nudity, light gore, suggestive/light n-s-f-w
⛔ will not draw: heavy gore and n-s-f-w, mecha, boone/oc content (sorry!!)
note: detailed backgrounds and/or designs may cost extra.
check out my commission request checklist below the cut 👇
CHECKLIST
email me at lego.cheong (at) gmail.com. say hi, say hey, and include "commission" in your subject line, please! OR dm me if you need to ask something real quick - but full requests with references, descriptions etc. should be exchanged via email. c:
include:
what type of commission you'd like - b&w/colour, waist up/full body, how many characters
references of the character(s) - if you don't have an image of them drawn out in their entirety, please provide picture references of all their parts (hair, face, clothes, etc.). if you also have a pose reference, i'd love to see it!
what you want to see - what pose do you want your character(s) to be in? what expressions? what is the vibe you want conveyed? is there something you want to focus on in particular (e.g. a character's ring, a scar, a limb, etc.)
are you okay with your commission being public? - you will get a higher-res, un-watermarked version of your commission. i do sometimes put lower-res, watermarked versions of my commissions up in my art tag / portfolio, so please let me know if you would like it to be a private commission.
you'll receive a reply within 2-3 days, at which point we can talk a little bit more about your commission if needed!
full payment will be required upfront through a Paypal invoice only. the invoice will be sent to the email you used unless specified otherwise.
thank you so much for reading, and hope to see you in my emails soon! <3
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🦅Russell Adler Headcanons
{Author's Note} Since I'm literally obsessed with this man, I thought I'd post my headcanons for him. All of these are based off of his canon backstory and character with bits of my own speculation thrown in so nothing should be too out of left field here. I may end up posting more of my thoughts on him soon so we shall see. Hope y'all like it and I'd love to hear what you think, as well as any headcanons you guys might have! Tagging @littlemissclandestine for this since she's an Adler fan. Let me know if I did this man justice lol🤭
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‼️Content Warning: swearing, suggestive themes‼️
~ ~ ~
-Badass asshole
-Takes awhile for him to soften enough to really love someone
-Flirtatious jerk when he has a crush
-Shows he cares through small actions that can be hard to notice, as well as vague, rather backhanded compliments
-Shamelessly stares from behind those glasses of his
-Thinks it’s really cute when you wear his shades but would never admit it
-Stylish with heavy 70s influence
-Probably modeled for a male fashion magazine at some point LMAO
-Definitely knows how to dance
-Seems like the type to meme a bit on British people (specifically Park lol)
-Very sarcastic, sometimes to the point that you don’t realize he’s actually joking because he's always so monotone
-Secretly loves Belgian waffles (this is a reference to that one Bruce Thomas TikTok lol)
-Has a soft spot for the Beach Boys (I mean, look at that 🎶bushy, bushy blonde hairdo🎶 of his)
-Since so many people have asked and teased him about it (I see y'all in the fandom and I will not accept this slander lol) -> his hair isn’t fake, it’s actually pretty soft, very bouncy, he likes styling it
-Very particular about his appearance as it is one of the few things that he can truly control
-Prefers cats over dogs
-Can get obsessive about certain things and lose himself to them (i.e. his search for Perseus) -> Mason quote: “He spent so long searching for Perseus, he didn’t notice when he lost himself.”
-Still struggles with PTSD from his time in Vietnam, which, alongside his obsession with finding Perseus, is what led to his divorce
-Carries a lot of guilt and regret that he doesn’t like to acknowledge
-Started smoking to cope with the trauma of war, now has a nicotine addiction; when he’s really stressed, he chain smokes like a chimney
-Gets restless if he doesn’t have a cigarette
-Doesn’t sleep well and when he does, he usually wakes up every few hours
-Scars - Shrapnel? Abuse? Torture? Animal attack? No one knows and he’ll never tell
-Kiss or trace those scars and he WILL melt
-Difficult for him to let his guard down
-Has a tendency to isolate himself -> Mason quote: "You were never alone, Adler. Only in your own stubborn head."
-Always wearing those damn glasses cuz STYLE but also to hide his eyes to remain as a sort of blank, emotionless slate to other people
-Absent parents who never showed him real love or support as he grew up so he struggles to do the same for others -> they were the reason he joined the army as soon as he turned 18
-When it comes to cuddling, he loves holding you against his chest and running his fingers along your arm, cheek, or through your hair; small but intimate actions like that are his favorite
-Doesn’t like to show emotions at all, even during more intimate moments; he needs some coaxing to relax in that way, which takes time
NSFW Below👇🏻 (it's really not too bad tho)
-Sit on his lap👀
-Will pin your wrists during the sexy times🫣
-EDGING & OVERSTIMULATION
-After his divorce, he's tended to view sex as more of a transaction where both parties are fulfilling needs for each other so he'd be selfish at first but as your relationship progresses, he'd become far more generous
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carppediem · 7 months
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I just came across this interview Käärijä gave for an Estonian magazine before the Tallinn gig and thought I'd share it with y'all! He talks about saving money to buy a house, why he quit drinking etc. Also, there are some new interesting things he said about Tommy 👀
Since the article is behind a paywall (and in Estonian) I've put a rough, heavily Google-assisted translation under the cut 👇
There are a few minutes left until the concert. How do you feel?
I feel great, but I'm a little tired because I didn't sleep well.
Did you have a party yesterday?
No party, I'm focused on the European tour. Yesterday was a live in Sweden, from there I flew to Finland at five o'clock in the morning and from there to here. But I'm one hundred percent ready for a show. It doesn't matter how tired I am, I give my best on stage.
You recently released the single 'It's Crazy, It's Party' with Tommy Cash. When Tommy met the members of the band Little Big, they drank a lot of vodka. What did you and Tommy drink?
Haha, I haven't had a drink with Tommy yet.
Not even a Pina Colada?
No. Maybe someday Tommy and I will have a drink, although I don't think he drinks much. And you know, I don't drink anymore either. I stopped drinking a month ago. I need to keep my energy up. When you give as many concerts as I do now, you have to take care of yourself. Drinking and performing hand in hand is extremely difficult both physically and mentally, not to mention how bad it affects the vocal cords. I had the biggest hangover of my life this summer, which put the brakes on my drinking. I went to a music festival with a friend where we drank too much. The next day I had to perform at the same festival. The hangover was so bad that I really didn't know how to get myself on stage with the terrible feeling and the summer heat. But I pulled myself together and did the show. This experience is also one of the reasons why I don't drink anymore.
What kind of person is Tommy?
He is a visionary and very witty - a lot of fun with him. And of course he's cute. I think we have something in common, like we both have our own style. Tommy surprises with crazy outfits: extraordinary hairstyles, extravagant clothing, which are complemented by boleros. In short, insane costumes.
After Eurovision, you started a real concert rally - you gave 51 concerts in the summer alone. Do you want to become a millionaire?
Of course I do! One day I will definitely be a millionaire. I don't keep track of how much money I have in the bank and how much I'm short of six figures. But yes, I'm trying to collect a million euros.
Will the goal be met this year?
No, not yet. It will still take a few years. I've had an insane amount of performances after Eurovision, because I was like a kid in a candy store who wants everything at once, but by now I've drawn the line because I can't perform everywhere. I also set myself a price tag, below which I will not allow myself to go anywhere. If you do 300 shows a year, you're screwed.
What do you spend your money on?
I don't just spend it on pretty things. I have a definite goal in mind - I want to buy a house in Finland. Maybe in the future also real estate in Thailand, we'll see. I don't need a Rolex or any luxury, I don't care about that.
What has been the most difficult thing for you since Eurovision?
Everyone in Finland now knows who I am. It's hard and tiring because I no longer have my own private space at all. I can't just go to the store, to a concert, or to a hockey game, people will immediately come up to me and start taking pictures. I hate when they don't politely ask for permission to do this, but immediately start clicking.
What has been the best?
It's great to see people hear 'Cha Cha Cha' and be happy. Or when they hear the name Käärijä and their face breaks into laughter - it's a powerful feeling. And of course to see how happy my family is about this achievement. And me too!
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missmaywemeetagain · 1 year
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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!)
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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.
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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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