#New fandoms for y'all to request.

[daliain]

New Fandoms:

•Reverse 1999

•Vincent: The Secret of Myers

•Therapy With Dr. Albert Krueger

•Morfosi

•Mushroom Oasis

•Kingdom (K-drama about Zombies-)

•Where The Winter Crows Go

•What in hell is bad

•A Date With Death

#New fandoms for y'all to request. #reverse 1999 #x reader #vincent: the secret of myers #vtsom #twdak #therapy with dr albert krueger #what in hell is bad #morfosi #Where The Winter Crows Go #mushroom oasis vn #Kingdom k-drama #A Date With Death

[internetbanality]

jo's sketches of griddlehark is never gonna let me rest, huh

#Internetbanality #Every single time I log in I got new notes/likes for it #Not complaining I just think it's funny how feral the tlt fandom is #People keep saying 'op blah blah' and I'm like YO I just requested it I didn't DRAW it #Y'all want a tlt GN go to publishers and beg them to hire Johanna

[dewdropdinosaur]

Our Mom

LUCIFER x (F) READER

Part One

Summary: You like Lucifer and he likes you. One problem though: what will your 'kids' think? Based off an comment from @river-ride

Warnings: NONE

OMG!!! My lovelies, thank you so much for the support on my last Lucifer fic. Y'all are amazing! Remember, requests are open for lots of fandoms etc. Thank you so much for all of y'alls love and I appreacite you.

For now, enjoy more Lucifer my dears!!

In the bustling corridors of the Hazbin Hotel, where the damned sought refuge from the fiery depths of Hell, Y/N was a beacon of warmth and solace. She was more than just a resident; she was a pillar of support, a confidante, and a pseudo-mother figure to many within those crimson walls.

Among those she touched was Lucifer, the charming and enigmatic ruler of Hell, who found himself inexplicably drawn to her gentle kindness and unwavering compassion. Yet, despite the undeniable spark between them, neither dared to voice the truth lingering in their hearts. Despite being quite close after the battle with Heaven and the rebuilding of the Hotel, neither party could seem to bring themselves to speak their feelings. 

On one hand, Y/N feared two things: that Lucifer could never like a lowly sinner like her and that since she was a pseudo-mother to all of the hotel’s residents…dating the King of Hell may cause a few setbacks in relationships that she desperately did not want. Y/N loved each and every resident in the Hotel, an older demon herself who never had the chance to have her own, everyone under the crimson fading roof became like a child to her. She adored Angel’s compassion even in the midst of despair, she loved playing cards with Husk(who definitely didn’t let her win to see that small smile of hers), time spent chatting and planning with Charlie was always a blast, and yes…even time with Alastor listening to old jazz tunes had found its place in the grand scheme of things. So, her feelings for Lucifer would have to be put on hold indefinitely for this arrangement not to break.

On the other hand, Lucifer the King of Hell himself was a wreck. Every time he saw Y/N, her smile, the way she carried herself with compassion but still headstrong it made his knees buckle and he could have sworn he was back in Heaven. She was like an angel, ironically so. He fully knew of her past, her sins. Yet, she was so willing to help and assist others at a shot of redemption she knew she could never have struck a chord within the lonely ruler of the Underworld. 

However, one fateful evening, as the residents gathered in the grand hall for their routine meeting, tensions simmered beneath the surface. Charlie, along with Husk, Angel Dust, and Alastor, had grown wary of Lucifer's aloof demeanor towards Y/N. They knew of the unspoken affection that brewed between the two, and they were determined to push the devil to confront his feelings(or perishing for daring to even look at Y/N was another option considered by some…ahem…Alastor and the beloved Sassy Narrator) 

As the meeting progressed, Charlie cleared her throat, catching everyone's attention. "It has come to our attention," she began, exchanging knowing glances with the others, "that certain... feelings may be harbored within our midst."

Husk smirked, Angel winked mischievously, and Alastor's grip tightened, his eyes glinting with murderous amusement.

Lucifer's eyes narrowed in suspicion as he let out a breathy chuckle, sensing a trap. "And what feelings might those be, my dear? I surely hope no animosity has been brewing."

Charlie gestured subtly to Y/N, who stood by the sidelines, her gaze fixed on her ‘children’ around her. 

"Feelings of a... romantic nature, perhaps?" Charlie smiled but her eyes were nervous. She knew her father well enough that it was indeed time to move on from Lillith and Y/N was no better candidate, doing a better job than Lillith herself ever did. But what if she was wrong and her father really had no interest in her ‘new’ mother. Or the other way around?

A collective murmur swept through the room as the residents exchanged curious glances. Y/N's cheeks flushed crimson, and Lucifer felt a strange warmth spread through his chest at the mention of romance.

Clearing his throat, Alastor leaned forward, his grin widening into a smirk. "Now, now, Lucifer, don't be shy. We all know how dear Y/N is to you. Why, if anything were to happen to her, well..."

The implication hung heavy in the air, and Lucifer's eyes narrowed dangerously. "Are you threatening me, Alastor?"

Alastor chuckled nonchalantly, though the glint in his eyes betrayed his amusement as he waved his hands in a circular motion around his cane which made ominous shadows appear around Lucifer’s chair. 

"Merely stating the obvious. After all, we wouldn't want anything untoward to happen to our dear Y/N now, would we?"

The tension in the room was palpable as Lucifer's jaw clenched, his gaze flickering between Y/N and the others. Husk flicked his claws open, Angel smirked with a glinting knife in hand, and even Vaggie tilted her head to gesture to her angelic spear. All of them were in agreement… ‘hurt our mom and you will wish you got to die a second time.’ 

 Sensing his inner turmoil, Y/N stepped forward, her voice gentle but firm.

"Lucifer, you don't have to listen to them. Whatever you feel, whatever we feel, it's... it's our choice." 

Her words hung in the air, and for a moment, time seemed to stand still as Lucifer met her gaze, his expression softening with an unspoken understanding.

Finally, with a resigned sigh, he stepped forward, his hand reaching out to cup Y/N's cheek tenderly. "Perhaps... perhaps there is truth in what they say," he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. "But know this, my dear Y/N: I would move mountains to keep you safe, to cherish you, for as long as you'll have me."

A soft smile tugged at Y/N's lips as she leaned into his touch, her heart swelling with a newfound sense of courage and hope. "Then let's face whatever comes together," she whispered, her eyes sparkling with unshed tears.

And as the residents of the Hazbin Hotel looked on, witnessing the delicate dance of love and redemption unfolding before them, they knew that no matter the trials that lay ahead, Y/N and Lucifer would weather the storm together, bound by a love that transcended even the depths of Hell itself. 

And even if something did ever happen…well they would kill the King himself without a second thought and Lucifer knew it. 

#romance #hazbin hotel fandom #vizziepop #lucifer hazbin hotel #lucifer imagine #lucifer morningstar x reader #lucifer x reader #lucifer morningstar #vaggie hazbin hotel #angel dust #husk hazbin hotel #nifty hazbin hotel #friends to lovers #charlie morningstar #alastor the radio demon #hazbin hotel alastor

[danaewrites]

you with the dark curls (you with the watercolor eyes)

part i: and while you were asleep, i was surely awake

james potter x reader // read it on AO3

word count: 2.8k

summary: “Falling in love with your best friend was never a good idea, but you’d managed to do the idiot thing anyway, carrying a torch for a boy who would never look past Lily’s emerald eyes to see the watercolor ones that had always been by his side.”

tags: best friends to lovers, angst with a happy ending, based on the song "dear arkansas daughter" by lady lamb, fem!reader

author's notes: hii y'all, sorry for not posting in a year :P my only excuse is that i didn't feel like taking the energy to actually write out my story ideas. also perfectionism. anyway i somehow wrote this in two hours while procrastinating my college app essays and have plans to make this a multi-chapter fic despite intending to write an angsty oneshot request for a completely different fandom (i see you, beloved anons, and i raise you this completely unrelated fic <3)… the brain of a writer works in mysterious ways.

read it all here: part i, part ii, part iii (coming soon!)

You were in love with James Potter.

It was a fact of life, just like how the sky was blue, or that his favorite dessert was treacle tart, or that you were the only person he’d ever let see him cry besides his mother. You’d loved him from the moment you met him on the train to Hogwarts as a shy, anxious muggleborn unsure of the new world of magic and prejudice you’d been thrown into without so much as a warning. He hadn’t cared at all about your blood status- didn’t even think to ask about it. He had launched himself into your compartment and began talking at you a mile a minute, beaming with every tooth showing once he found out you were hoping to get into Gryffindor, his hazel eyes alight with the joy of making a new friend. And friends indeed you had become; you were proud to remember that you’d known him before Sirius or Remus or Peter did, though it took only an instant after the Sorting for him to become best mates with the rest of them, too.

You and James were inseparable from that moment on, giggling at Professor Binns’ failure to notice Sirius’ antics in the back of class and reassuring each other when home seemed too far away for comfort. He stole sweets from the Slytherin table for you at meals, and you covered for him when the teachers almost caught him pranking Snape– after all, who would believe that sweet, innocent Y/n would ever be involved in such shenanigans? The soft-spoken demeanor and love of everything pastel you’d thought would eventually oust you from the close-knit Gryffindor boys’ group proved to be quite the useful asset when affirming their ‘innocence’.

Not that they only wanted you around because you were helpful, of course. You had quite the talent for exaggerating stories until even Sirius fell off his seat laughing in disbelief, and your creative mind made for some glorious pranks and entertaining mistakes. Peter would blush for an hour straight if anyone mentioned The Great Plum Pudding Incident of Christmas 1974, all thanks to your clever meddling. And Remus– well, he was eternally grateful for your mother-henning during the worst of his moon cycles. You’d been the first to figure out his “furry little problem”, and upon learning that enjoying chocolate was his favorite method of escapism, showed up every month without fail with an armful of Honeydukes sweets. The little ways in which you loved each Marauder meant the world to them. They would do anything to protect you and make sure you were okay, James most of all. You often teased James that he was more bodyguard than friend, with his deep glares at too-forward Hufflepuff boys masking the big softie you knew he was underneath. You remembered fondly the summer days he spent chasing you around your house, scaring your mother half to death with his colander-and-pot ‘armor’ as he declared that as a chivalrous knight, he was meant to save Princess Y/n from the terrible Acromantula King. Privately, you thought James had a few too many Arthurian legends for bedtime stories as a child, but what could you do?

Even now, as sixth years, the bond between you and James never changed, your love for him ever-growing. Your heart melted every time you glanced over your shoulder in the hallway, only to find him chatting softly with a sniffling first-year and guiding them to Professor Sprout’s office for a hot cuppa and a biscuit. You cheered at his Quidditch victories and were euphorically lifted up onto his broad shoulders afterward, whooping as he galavanted through the common room in celebration. You were there when he needed a shoulder to cry on when his grandfather died, softly stroking his hair as he fell asleep in your lap with tear tracks still running down his face. And he adored you in return– braiding your hair while you worked on Herbology essays, racing you on his beloved broom when you stayed with him during the summer, distracting you from your rants about Slughorn’s unfair grading with a trip to the kitchens and a blissfully soft blanket.

James was your lifeline and you his– and nothing in the world could change that.

Except, perhaps, one tiny little complication. A complication with vibrant red hair, sparkling green eyes, and a natural affinity for Potions. A complication that had sparked your jealousy since the first time you noticed James glancing dreamily at Lily Evans in second year Transfiguration, jealousy that had only gotten worse with his grand declarations of love every week. He’d begun to announce his affection for the muggleborn to anyone who would listen in third year, and it didn’t stop there. No, when James Potter loved someone, he loved hard, and that meant that you had to watch as beautiful bouquets appeared on Lily’s nightstand nightly while the rest of the girls in your dorm whispered and swooned. You were a wallflower when he sighed about how lovely her skin was and how bloody talented she was at everything she did during one of your late-night chats in the common room, curling in on yourself with every word he spoke. When he asked her to Hogsmeade the first time (and the second, and the third, and the fiftieth), you observed as she rolled her eyes and shoved past him, despite the small smile on her face.

It wasn’t that Lily wasn’t smart or pretty or talented– far from it. She deserved every good Potions grade she got, and even the pureblood Slytherins begrudgingly noted how she was the darling of Hogwarts society. But you thought that the way she treated your best friend, refusing his advances quite harshly but sending him flirtatious glances and making a show of wearing his flowers in her hair, was rather unkind and misleading. She had James wrapped around her little finger and didn’t seem to want to let go of his attention anytime soon, despite Snape’s protests about how much time he was spending with her. You disliked Severus, but didn’t think he deserved Lily’s bad treatment either. Sometimes you’d see him staring at James and Lily deep in conversation, and shoot him a glance of communal disappointment– before realizing who you were sharing the moment with and resuming an expression of disgust, at least.

At first, you ignored your growing angst about his new obsession, chalking it up to sleep deprivation, stress over your upcoming exams, and even your monthly. But when you started to run out of excuses for the despair slowly overtaking your heart and flashes of his dark curls began to appear in your sweetest dreams, you were forced to admit that your feelings for James ran much deeper than a platonic friendship. From the way he spun you around in the snow to the way he snorted at Remus’ awful puns, you were head-over-heels smitten with your best friend.

The way he’d filled out since the end of fourth year hadn’t escaped your notice, either; you were pretty sure that his pecs should be considered a traffic hazard, with the way you’d fallen flat on your face after seeing him shirtless after a match. He’d rushed over to clean up every one of your injuries, of course, with a touch so gentle it released a whole menagerie of butterflies in your stomach. You’d barely managed to mumble a coherent thank-you before sprinting to take a very cold shower and scream into your pillow with embarrassment. How on earth did Lily Evans even think around him?!

Alas, you’d read your fair share of romance novels, and you knew how this story would end. Falling in love with your best friend was never a good idea, but you’d managed to do the idiot thing anyway, carrying a torch for a boy who would never look past Lily’s emerald eyes to see the watercolor ones that had always been by his side.

That was the state Sirius found you in, broody and lost in thought in a quiet corner of the library. He grinned rakishly, planting a well-polished boot on a nearby chair and leaning over to tap your forehead. “Lots going on in there today, huh?”

You snapped out of your daze and smiled sheepishly up at him. “Sorry, Siri, didn’t mean to ignore you. Just, er, thinking about my Potions essay, do you know how many uses there are for mandelwort? Quite fascinating plants, hones–”

Sirius winced and slid back far across the table. “Oh, no, you are not discussing horrid Potions work with me today when there are so many other wonderful topics.” He gestured to a table of swooning fifth-years gazing dreamily at his backside. “For example, those lovely ladies,” he crooned, sending an exaggerated wink towards them and smirking when they sighed.

You wrinkled your nose and scoffed. “Oh, please, as if I haven’t heard enough about your conquests already. I’m already scarred for life from your stories about that Belgium Veela, let alone the muggle sailor you nearly broke the Statute of Secrecy for.”

He waved a hand, dismissing your allegations of the mental injury caused by his excruciating attention to sordid detail when slightly tipsy in the common room. You made a mental note to charm his shampoo to turn his hair bright lavender for the next week for that little snub. Although, being Sirius, he’d probably just use it as an excuse to sway the rest of the Hogwarts population into going to Hogsmeade with him. “Ah, but darling Y/n, that’s what I’m here for!” He furrowed his brow and stroked his chin in mock consideration. “However, I can’t seem to recall a time when you–” here he poked you in the cheek for emphasis– “confessed to a little tete-a-tete in the hallway. Ever. Which means we have a problem,” he grinned.

You felt rather like prey being hunted for sport. “That would be because I’m not interested in anyone, you dolt!” Crossing your arms, you turned your face back towards your homework. Maybe if you denied romantic interest for long enough, Sirius would leave you alone and go flounce off to flirt with the noisy table of fourth years. “Anyway, I heard Marlene’s been circling Dorcas like a lovesick pigeon lately, so perhaps you should be putting your matchmaking efforts to her benefit instead.”

Sirius rolled his eyes. “C’mon doll, I know you weren’t actually thinking about Potions when I arrived. Who’s the lead actor in those fantasies, mm?” He snatched up your favorite pink gel pen, twirling around his fingers as he looked at you expectantly.

Drat. He wouldn’t be so easily distracted with the latest gossip. You opened your mouth to protest yet again when you caught a flash of red over Sirius’ artfully tousled locks. You watched as James strode up to the alcove where Lily and her friends were studying, transfigured a sheet of parchment into a butterfly clip and held it out to her with a grin. Her laughter pealed out through the library as she let him lean over her shoulder to place it in her hair. He seemed oblivious to the titters of the girls around him while he gazed at Lily adoringly. You felt your heart clench as you recognized the expression on his face; you’d seen it on your own in the mirror after spending time with James, after all. And it seemed like maybe Lily was finally starting to be swayed into accepting his starry-eyed proposals, if the pretty blush on her cheeks was anything to go by.

Sirius tracked your despairing gaze to the couple and immediately paled in realization. “Oh, shit.”

Shit, indeed. Your face turned bright red as you scrambled to pack your bag and leave the area as fast as you possibly could, not sure how you could face Sirius knowing your deepest secret now. The boy had no self-control, fueling the Hogwarts gossip mill with the wild stories he overheard, and he had even less discretion when confessing things to his friends around the common room fire. It’s no wonder he wound up in Gryffindor, you thought miserably. There’s no way he’d be able to keep a secret like the rest of the Slytherins, and definitely not from James. It would only be a matter of time before he let it slip about your feelings to the rest of the Marauders, and— well, you’d just have to face losing your best friend for good once he heard.

Sirius broke your train of thought by wrapping his hands around yours, looking up at you with concern. “Hey, doll, wait— I didn’t know—“

You sniffed and wiped the tears threatening to fall from your eyes away fiercely. “That’s exactly it, Sirius, you didn’t know because you won’t be able to keep it from James.”

He looked guiltily down at the table. “I’m sorry. I’ve been a bit of a git with keeping things private lately, yeah?”

You nodded, covering your face with your hands. Sirius reached out, placing them back down on the table, and softly said, “Listen, I shouldn’t have pried so hard. You don’t have to tell me anything if you don’t want to.” He broke off, pausing to scramble for a handkerchief from his bag to wipe off your rapidly disintegrating mascara. “And I promise not to breathe a word of this to James,” he finished.

You looked up at him, startled. “Are you serious?” At his answering grin, you groaned. “Don’t answer that. But really, are you sure that you’ll be able to resist telling him everything?” You fiddled with the now-soiled handkerchief and whispered, “You two are so close, I don’t want to drive you apart. If James thought you were hiding something important from him, it would destroy him,” you sniffed.

He frowned. “Doll, you know you’re just as important as James is to me, right?” At your answering slump, his jaw clenched and he continued on with more intensity. “You’re like my sister, Y/n, there’s nothing you could do to make me care for you less. Especially not asking for your privacy. Clearly, I haven’t been treating you as well as you deserve if you doubt that.”

He walked around and took a seat in the armchair next to you, pulling you in to lean on his shoulder. “And I can be discreet, you know. I might not show it often, but growing up in a family of the most intensely secretive purebloods ever to exist taught me a few things.” You glanced at him doubtfully, the tiny quirk of your mouth the only sign that you were joking. “Hey, I’m being serious!” He laughed, then quieted suddenly. “This thing with James— you really love him, don’t you?”

You gave him an exasperated look out of the corner of your eye. Sirius released a breath and gazed deeply into the space in front of him. “Hey, we’ll figure this out together, okay?” He poked you in the side. “If he’s too focused on the smell of Evans’ hair or whatever to see that he already has the perfect girl in front of him, he’s not as smart as you think he is.” You giggled slightly, his words warming you. Sirius smiled, happy to see you cheering up a bit.

“Why don’t we go raid the kitchens? The coolest person I know once told me that elf-crafted mint chocolate chip ice cream is the best way to heal a broken heart,” he teased. You groaned, remembering how you’d told him that as a last resort to get him to stop complaining about how he missed his sailor ex-boyfriend every time you two went to Hogsmeade. At least your random advice wound up benefiting you now, you thought as you collected the last of your stationery and exited the library.

Neither you nor Sirius saw how James watched you smile up at Sirius as you walked away, holding his arm and laughing loudly at something he muttered. Anna Dumotier, a Hufflepuff fifth-year and one of Lily’s friends, would remember later that night how he seemed to tune out Lily’s voice for a moment and stared at the doors to the library with a strange expression on his face. His brows were furrowed like he was trying to decipher the answer to an unfamiliar puzzle, his eyes widened with confusion and a glint of something she could only identify as jealousy before Lily brought him back to the conversation with a graceful flip of her hair. But no— she shook her head— that couldn’t be right. What could James possibly be jealous of when he finally had the girl of his dreams in his arms?

taglist: @magpiencrow @that-kid143 @lilly-aliyah @itmustbegreattobecalledtheitgirl

comment if you'd like to be tagged for any of my works/fandoms in the future! :)

read on: part ii

#james potter x reader #james potter x y/n #sirius black #bisexual sirius black #remus lupin #peter pettigrew #marlene mckinnon #dorcas meadowes #fem reader #best friends to lovers #friends to lovers #marauders #marauders x y/n #lily evans #harry potter #hp fandom

[mvskedxrtist]

A enemy of an enemy is your lover?!

Wᴀʀɴɪɴɢ: Rough Sex, Slight Choking, Dumbification, Bondage, Size Kink, Sir Kink

Nᴏᴛᴇ: Y'all are really liking my posts and I love that a lot!! I'm also glad I've made my first mutual! But for this, I wanna show off the many fandoms I'm in so you're gonna get a Thoma smut. One that I had requested before but the account got deleted, so I'm taking it into my own hands.

Raiden Son!Reader x Thoma - A enemy of an enemy is your lover?!

What had you done? Well, saved your househusband of a boyfriend from the puppet version of your mother who was going to take his Pyro vision away. And what were you doing in the moment? Kissing him senseless while he sat on your lap in the Kamisato Estate.

"W-we might get caught, babe..." Thoma whimpered softly while you kissed and left hickeys all over his neck. "While yes my mother is trying to find you right now, she's probably dealing with the new traveler. Plus I saved you from losing your vision, you did say you'd pay me back my love~"

The two were already naked, with Thoma's arm tied the same way they were with your mother but a little less tight. You chuckled and stood above him, your cock hovering right above his head. "Ready for your gift?" "Yes sir".

What had turned from a simple throatfucking with some gagging from Thoma, turned into loud moans echoing the shrine while you slammed into him endlessly. "God fuck you feel so good, baby~" You groaned in his ear, seeing Thoma's eyes roll to the back of his head, the only thing he could hear was small babbling from the househusband.

"H-hahh~ m-more..more... Too much!~" He whined softly and leaned his head back as he came all over the floor. "Aww... My little baby made a mess huh?~" You chuckled and kept thrusting inside of him, hitting his prostate with each thrust. The soft whines from Thoma could be heard clearly while you leaned closer to him and held him close.

"Such a tiny boy in my arms... Taking my big cock inside of you~" You teased your boyfriend while fucking him faster, seeing him slowly start to lose his mind over pleasure. "C-c-cumming sir!!~" Thomas cried out and came once again at the same time you did, passing out into your arms right after.

Hours had passed while the two men rested before Kamisato Ayaka walked into her home with Aether and Paimon. The traveller had spotted a door that was slightly open, seeing you and Thoma cuddling in the room before he had asked Ayaka who you were.

"Oh! That's [Name], he's the Raiden Shogun's son." The girl told him with a smile while Aether and Paimon had the same reaction. "WHAT?!"

#top reader #genshin impact #genshin inazuma #thoma x reader #raiden #raiden shogun #thoma #my writing #mvsked.writing #electro archon #genshin archon #archon quest #sub genshin #genshin x reader #genshin smut #genshin impact smut #genshin impact x reader

[holografrick]

DO YOU SHIP NISCHA IF SO CAN WE HAVE SOME DOODLES??

hi!! I am still fairly new to the fandom and I am still looking around and finding out how I feel on most ships, but Mischa and Noel had REALLY sweet moments in the musical fr fr (ps- i got a TON of nischa requests! I see y'all have a type.)

#ride the cyclone #rtc #rtc fanart #ride the cyclone fanart #mischa bachinski rtc #rtc mischa #mischa bachinski #mischa x noel #noel gruber #rtc noel #noel gruber fanart #mischa bachinski fanart #nischa

[ofstardustanddreaming]

never too much

oneshot summary: (the request) Throughout their first few weeks of being in a romantic relationship together, Nanami finds out that reader is still pretty shy and insecure of herself. She wants to hold his hand, hug him, kiss his cheeks, talk to him and rant about anything— his heart melts. Yet reader gets insecure, being told in the past that she was clingy and talkative, not wanting to make Nanami uncomfortable, she keeps it to herself instead of showing affection. Nanami makes the first moves of the mentioned gestures of affection, so she can feel comfortable around him, hopefully.

content warnings: heavy talk on insecurities, mention of shitty exes, and nanami being super comforting

fandom: jujutsu kaisen

character: kento nanami x reader

gender neutral reader

anon request

a.n. - oh anon, this tugged at my heartstrings. i always love fics like this, and i feel like nanami would be so sweet lol. i enjoyed writing it, i hope y'all enjoy reading it!

Two months is how long you have been dating Kento Nanami and every day has felt like a dream. He's the perfect boyfriend that you always dreamed of, feeling like you were in a fairytale. And today was no different really. Today marked the first weekend you'd be spending at his place, the first time either of you step in the direction of spending the night. He was the one to ask if you'd like too, and you of course have to jump on the chance.

You decide to plant yourself outside of his work with his favorite snack (and one you grabbed for yourself, obviously) from the bakery, knowing he was working some overtime and probably needed a little pick me up. You also figure seeing him after work could be a good surprise, you only hope he might want to see you after work. You had gotten out of work early, so it made sense to you, while you made the plan on the train, to be able to make a quick pitstop.

You look around anxiously for Nanami, hoping you hadn't missed him, or he had gotten out early as well. But you had nothing to fear as you see him walk out, his face brightening when he saw you, a soft smile gracing his features.

"Hey sweetheart, what a nice surprise seeing you here." He says to you, and his first plan of attack when seeing you was to shoulder the overnight bag you had brought with you to Jujutsu High, that contained what you needed for the weekend visit. It made your heart flutter when he so mindlessly did the most gentlemen of things. The next thing he did was with the opposite hand than that of the arm shouldering the bag, was to offer it to you as you both walk to his place. He doesn't live too far from Jujutsu High and it was a nice day outside. A perfect day for a walk, as he told you, making sure you knew that he doesn't live to far.

"Of course Ken, I hope you don't mind me stopping at your work so soon in our relationship. You also didn't have to grab my bag, but thank you for doing it. Oh! And before I forget, I got another surprise. I picked up some treats for us this weekend, some of our favorites." You tell him, cringing a little. You weren't sure if you had been talking too much, or jumping around in your statements. Previous relationships had always made some comment regarding your talking levels, always being roped in with being clingy. You glance over at Nanami, who is smiling down at you, eyes darting between your face and the route in front of you, making you relax a tiny bit.

"These treats sound lovely for this weekend. I also don't mind you stopping by at work, you always brighten my day. And in no way is it a problem for me to hold the bag for you." He says, noting your jumpiness around him still. He genuine about enjoying seeing you after work, even if the relationship was still relatively new. He could feel his heart blossom anytime he saw you, something he hasn't really felt with anyone else. He was hoping that he wasn't pushy at all with you though, concerned he would seem to forward and make you uncomfortable with any words or advances he has made.

He did notice that you weren't one to initiate any sort of first contact, not that he expected that at the initial part of the relationship, but he was a bit nervous if him grabbing your hand earlier seemed too forward. But he holds the observation inside, wanting to enjoy the weekend and not focus on something that could be nothing. Surely you'd say something if you were uncomfortable he truly hoped. (Although if he felt you were uncomfortable he'd sit you both down to talk about it.) But he figures you just didn't enjoy initiating contact first in such a new relationship, and besides, he loves initiating contact anyway.

"Any plans for the weekend?" You ask, changing the subject as the both of you come up to his house. He messes around with the lock, trying to find the right key, as he talks a lot about relaxing for the evening at least, leaving the rest of the weekend up to fate.

You're curious about his house, really soaking up the outside while he swings open the door. Two stories, plain looking outside. Knowing Nanami, he was a very minimalist person, and you were right in that guess. Inside the house, it was very minimalistic. As you walk through the entrance way and into the main area, you pause in the living area to really take it in while he takes your bag to the guest room.

He has a couple of hanging plants next to the long sliding doors. The light filtering through the blinds, his TV stand pushed up against the wall so it wasn't blinded by the sunlight. The couch placed in the nice sunlight of the window and a blanket hanging off it, and you could only imagine how warm it felt there. You're brought out of your thoughts when Nanami walks back into the kitchen, the sound of his footsteps causing you to sharply turn to him.

He's out of his work clothes and into more lounge wear, and it sparks you into moving into the guest room to do the same for yourself, shedding yourself from the workday. You come back out to see him making dinner, your eyebrows raising in shock.

"We could have ordered take out, you didn't have to go to the trouble of making anything." You say, grabbing his attention.

"I do enjoy cooking, you know. This is no trouble at all, really." He says, continuing his thought. "It's simple and easy, to kick off the evening."

You smile, relief at the thought it wasn't too much trouble. You sit at the table near the kitchen, still visible to each other and close enough to hear each other talk if you wanted too. It was kept minimal though as he was hyper-focused. He soon finishes the dinner though, as he promised a quick and easy make, bringing your plate over to you, and you continue what small conversation you had. And to your appreciation, it flowed. It isn't forced and awkward. This is the first time in a long string of awful exes that you've felt truly listened too by someone, without them wanting to get something in return for it.

He asks you questions, sincerity behind the tone, really listening to your answers. He looks you in your eyes as you respond, causing your face to warm up anytime he looks at you for longer than 10 seconds. You're starting to worry you're rambling too much.

"But yeah, I think that's the new idea I came up with would work, I'm just unsure how to bring it up. I'm sure they'd choose someone else's idea first though, I don't know if mine is the best." You catch yourself rambling, your breath hitching. "Sorry, not to hog the conversation. Has Gojo done anything to bother you lately?" And your eyes shift. What if he thought you were trying to find out about another man.

"Your idea is good, but that's the second time you've done that, you know. Stopping yourself from talking, that is." He says instead, and your eyes snap up to his. His eyes are ones of concern, and you aren't sure how to respond.

"Sorry. I don't notice I do it." You finally stammer out, and Nanami looks understanding.

"Hey, it's okay. Just a small observation. Sorry to put you on the spot, truly. Gojo was relatively fine today, but then again, I wasn't around him very often." Nanami continues, noting how nervous you were about the observation. He didn't mean to say it so bluntly and take you off guard, very willing to switch the topic for your sake.

You both finish up eating, where you both playfully fought over you helping with the dishes. You eventually won when you flicked some of the water in his face. (Although he didn't miss you you tense, worried you took it a step too far.) But he gently laughs at it, pulling you in close to stand next to him at the sink to wash and dry. The hand on the waist when he pulled you in made your body ghost shiver, and you hope he doesn't feel that. You swear he lets his hand linger though, for a second longer than necessary, sure that he might have felt your shiver anyway.

You fall into a peaceful silence while you wash and you so badly want to rest your head on his chest, but you refrain. As you finish up, you both head over to the couch to relax for the rest of the night. He brings over the snacks you bought as well, intending to eat them over whatever it is you both choose to do.

"Any ideas for a movie?" He asks, deciding to take a small lead. He sees how nervous you are in suggesting something new, as if he wouldn't want to do what you suggest, and he wants to help with that. He did notice in previous situations that you tend to get bashful at suggesting anything, opting to let him have the choice in what to do. He didn't want to always make the decision, always wanting to hear your input as well. At the very least here, he could start with nudge you into voicing what ideas you have about a movie.

"Something in the romantic genre?" You question, wanting to see if that's a good idea with him, and he nods. You're excited, previous relationships not really wanting much to do with romance, thinking it was one of your "tactics" to push them into doing more romantic activities. Nanami's considerations for what you want to do always took you by surprise, in a good way. He looks fine with the decision too, scrolling through the lists on the variety of streaming services. You both settle on a movie that sounds promising that neither of you have seen before.

You both lean back into the couch, and you nervously bite at your nails. You curl your legs under you as you glance over at Nanami, craving the touch of cuddling, unsure of how to ask for it without it being awkward. He's coming back from dimming the lights and closing the blinds as he sits next to you, and thankfully you don't have to worry about asking. He grabs the blanket off the couch as he also hits play on the movie. He wraps the blanket around the both of you, as the blanket was big enough to wrap around two people, and you couldn't be more happy at the invitation.

He pulls you into his chest and you feel warm as you bury yourself into his chest. His frame makes you feel secure as he strokes your arm and side. His heartbeat was soothing as you burrow into him. Your arms strengthen their grip on him as he pulls you even closer. You turn your focus to the movie, enjoying the warmth for a majority of it.

But the movie then pulls you out of the comforting trance right around the climax though, where the fight between the love characters are at a high. It reminds you of what used to be. The guy uses the woman's exes against her, saying that maybe they were right about her personality. Maybe that he should've listened to them and should have never went out with her.

What if Nanami finds about about your insecurities or clinginess, and decides to use it against you? Is your thought, and it causes you to stiffen. It's enough to get Nanami looking down at you with his brows furrowed in curiosity. He pauses the movie and you look up at him, worry at ruining movie night.

His heart hurts when he sees the gloss of tears in your eyes. He shifts you both around, the dim lighting allowing him to still see you clearly when he sits you to face him.

"Hey, it's okay. I know we've been going slow for two months, and we haven't known each other for very long, but you can talk to me." He speaks with a soft tone in his voice, eyes shifting around your face for any sudden changes in your demeanor.

"Sorry. I'm sorry." You whisper out at first, tears falling quick. He wipes them away, the pads of his fingers cool and welcome against your warming skin, letting you take your time.

"It just made me worry about previous exes talking to you. You would've found out eventually about my personality, but maybe they would've told you sooner and you would leave me sooner." You say, looking at him with your lip trembling a little. He senses your heightened anxiety, but he can't imagine what they'd have to say to him. Anything an ex had to say about you, he'd assume was a lie until you told him otherwise. He lets you collect your thoughts before you continue.

"I suppose it's better you hear it from me anyway. I'm too clingy. I'm too talkative. That's what they all said anyway when they broke up with me. It's the reason they did. And even though you might be the best relationship I've had where I was starting to not have to worry about that, it'll be the reason you break up with me too, eventually. Even though I'm trying to control myself and not be too touchy or talkative, it'll still be too much for you. One day I'll talk too much or want one to many kisses and it'll cause you to break up with me." You tell him, trying to easy your way out of his touch, worried that would even be too much for him.

You're full on sobbing now, standing up from the couch and pacing in front of him. He stands up next to you and pulls you by the wrist to try and stop you.

"That's why you primarily want me to initiate anything, huh. Darling, look at me." He wraps his other arm around your waist, the one on your wrist coming up to gently trace your face. "Hey, it's okay. I haven't minded initiating contact at all these past couple of months. I know I may not have touched you often, I can't imagine how hard that must have been for someone who loves touch. I just didn't want to cross your boundaries, I always wondered why you seemed hesitant to reach out to me or kiss me. I even wondered why you always seemed cautious with your words, as if I wouldn't give the chance to hear your beautiful words."

He sets you both down on the couch again, your breath still hitching, still also feeling bad about stopping the movie night. It's as if Nanami can sense that too, quick to get on more with his speech.

"I need you to know that they're all wrong. I want nothing more than for you to feel comfortable around me. I don't mind you touching me, I don't mind you talking to me about any and every thought you have. It's you being a regular human. And so what if you need a little more contact than what's considered a norm? That's what's normal to you, alright? I'd let you know if I need space, but that's so rare. I want you to feel comfortable enough that you don't hesitate to kiss me because that's just what you feel you need. Much like I'd pull you in for a hug because it's what I need. If anything, you should be telling me off if I'm not providing you the support you need. From now on, don't hold your breath and deny me the chance to hear your gorgeous voice. I can't imagine how starved you've been for contact you've been denying yourself and craving, and I can't believe I haven't been giving enough of that contact, especially since I've been catching on lately. How stupid I've been to not ask you outright." He cups his hands around your face and you sigh, leaning into his touch.

Your tears are stopping, he plants many kisses alongside your nose, forehead, anywhere on your face. He kisses you once, twice, three times on the lips, deepening the third one. You really lean into that one, hands balling the fabric of his shirt up. You start to let go, and he's quick to remind you that it's okay. As long as you feel comfortable to touch him.

"You may not be okay with it right away, and we'll have our boundary talks as situations arise, but I'm willing to stand with you side by side." He says, a finger tracing the outline of your face.

"Thank you Ken. I don't even know how to begin to thank you."

"You don't have too. It's what relationships are, it's about finding that middle ground." You bite your lip and threw caution to the wind for once in the relationship. You take charge and you slide your arms around his neck, pulling yourself as close as you could for the skinship, shaking in his embrace. He wraps his arms as tight as they could go without hurting you, burying his face in your neck. He maneuvers you both in the lying position on the couch, wrapping the blanket around you both, the movie you both had put on now long forgotten. As you both now take in the warm embrace, you're glad to have shared in the vulnerability. Even if it's a two month relationship, it was good to take a step forward in a new relationship, as you both drift to sleep.

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[missingn000]

a note about tpg's hiatus

hi everyone!! i've missed y'all <33 i want to share a quick note on tpg's hiatus, and how long it will last.

first and foremost, the tl;dr: i will not abandon tpg. the story remains incredibly important to me, and this hiatus is only that: a hiatus. i will return eventually, and while i am not exactly sure when "eventually" is, i hope to begin updating again soon.

now the long explanation. tpg's hiatus has lasted much, much longer than i expected. it wasn't until i took a break that i realized how mentally and emotionally drained i was after writing 600k+ in 2 years, along with being an engineering master's student then starting a job in aerospace. especially after writing sukuna's backstory (75k+ words in one month), my brain was utterly fried. all in all, it's been a lot.

as some of you may know, i started watching one piece in september. and i love it! it's an incredibly fun, well-written feel-good series. it's been a refreshing mental break to engage with a new series, especially since jjk canon has been so disappointing in both content and writing quality. 

if you check my ao3, you'll notice i took a break from jjk with other series in the past: namely dr. stone, sxf, and natsume yuujinchou. this is necessary for me to remain creative and explore narrative themes that i bring back to tpg when i return to it. but by the time my recent hiatus started, it had been well over a year since i engaged with any other series than jjk, and it was starting to take its toll on me. i'm almost caught up on one piece now, which means i'll be able to focus on tpg again soon.

when i return from tpg's hiatus, updates may be slower. releasing 15k+ word chapters every 2-4 weeks was incredibly mentally taxing and required much of my time and focus to constantly be on the story. it wasn't healthy, and other areas of my life were impacted negatively. it can be easy to forget that i'm a real person with real-life responsibilities writing this story in my spare time for free -- even i sometimes forgot this. 

another note on why taking a break has been so necessary is my mental health. when season 2 released and toji + satosugu was animated, the fandom exploded and tpg's readership drastically increased. while this meant an influx of amazing love and support, i also started to receive rude and hateful comments and messages.

don't get me wrong: not everyone has to like tpg. that's totally fine! but as a very sensitive person, receiving hate took a huge toll on my mental health and motivation, and i have needed time to recover from it. i've been doing better mentally lately, and have taken some measures to reduce unkind interactions. i'm working on becoming less sensitive in the meantime so i can handle it better if/when it happens again.

since i've been feeling guilty about not posting jjk content, i haven't been on tumblr quite as much, but i'm still around online on both discord and instagram. mutuals can request my priv @chiidoriii on IG, and my discord is @MissingN000 -- just shoot me a message with who you are when you request! i'll still post fic updates on both new stories as well as tpg content and previews on tumblr, so please stick around :)

thank you so much for your patience with me! i love you all so much, and truly appreciate your support. love, chi <333

[hangmanssunnies]

They All Know, He's In Love With You.

Summary: From the night you first set eyes on Jake “Hangman” Seresin, and went home with him from the bar, you knew that there wasn’t ever going to be anything serious between you two. You just wish you could figure out why he keeps acting the opposite, and everyone thinks you are together.

Pairings: Jake “Hangman” Seresin x Fem! Civilian!Reader

Fandom: Top Gun: Maverick 

Word count: 4.3k

Warnings: slight angst, miscommunication trope.

A/N: Just a random thing that I came up with over the weekend. The reader is pretty oblivious, and maybe Jake needs to be a bit better about communication. I hope you like it. Also i gave Jake a promotion because he deserves it. A brief cameo for my darling Coyote. Also, it turned out weird on this, but Hangman's text is italics, and readers should be bolded.

"So, I like your new boyfriend."

The word boyfriend makes you laugh. "He isn't my boyfriend, Zali," you corrected your friend.

The two of you had met up for tapas and drinks. You had asked your current fling to drop you off since you had been at his house the night before and all morning. Hangman lived on base. So, it was always easier for him to pick you up and drive on base. The one time you tried to deal with the mess of getting your car and base clearance and registering yourself all alone, you had gotten so anxious you had just driven home. Ever since then, Hangman had dutifully picked you up from your house anytime you wanted to go over to his house. That choice, though, left you needing a ride off base this morning. However, when he dropped you off at the restaurant, your friend, Zali, had invited him to join you two. An invitation he had gladly excepted with a wink and smile. 

"Are you sure about that one?"

"Yeah, I'm sure."

"It's a pretty boyfriend thing to grab our drinks," she said. Then she nodded her head over to where Jake was at the bar. 

"He is just being nice. He likes people to think about him as a gentleman." You laughed, shaking your head a bit. 

"Fine," she conceded, but you could tell she wasn't convinced. "How long has it been going on then?"

"We have been sleeping together for a few months now."

"That's a long time to be friends with benefits. It is exclusive?" 

"I don't think so. Jake and I are just fuck buddies."

"You don't know if it's exclusive, and you don't even want to call it friends with benefits. But he is still getting a round of drinks and drove you here. I don't know, Y/N. That sounds messy." 

"It's not messy, and friends with benefits might also just be too strong a phrase for what we are." 

Zali's eyes cut their eyes over again, and you followed them, seeing Jake standing at the edge of your table. He was holding the drinks y'all had requested and a beer for himself. He had an odd look on his face, but it quickly faded, and he threw a smile on.

"Drinks for the ladies," He passed each of you your drinks before taking the seat next to you. 

You all made some conversation, and then once Jake had finished his beer, but before y'all had ordered food, he stood up. "Well I don't want to crash y'all's date, but I appreciate you indulging me for a bit."

You didn't like the way he said indulging and furrowed your brows staring up at him. Zali beat you to questioning, though. "Leaving already? No, you aren't crashing anything, just a friend's lunch. Please stay, Jake."

He looked at you then, like you held the answer to all his questions and should make this decision for him. Which considering it was your friend, you figured you actually probably should make the choice. He was giving you an easy out if you wanted to take it. 

"Yeah, don't live up to your call sign today. You are my ride home," You finally said. Jake grinned, hearing your words. It was his real smile, too, not just that confident aviator one. Then he settled back in his chair. 

"What's a call sign?" Zali asked.

"Silly professional nicknames all these pilots have for each other." You told her, laughing.

"What's your callsign?" She asked Jake. 

"You're going to have to buy me a beer if you want to know," Jake said with a wink. You shook your head and rolled your eyes at that typical answer. Then decided to immediately fill her in.

"They call him Hangman." And Jake didn't protest you giving away his call sign so easily. Instead, his hand made its' way to rest on your thigh a little above your knee as he started to explain a bit more about flying to Zali. The rest of lunch went by without a hitch. 

——-

"I never thought I would live to see the day Hangman brought his girlfriend to meet all of us. Especially when drinking and talking were the two main events. It really gives him no opportunity to show off," Javy "Coyote" Machado told you once Jake had left your side to go greet a friend. 

You were at a beach bonfire that a bunch of Jake's coworkers had thrown together. You hadn't planned on coming and originally didn't think that you would be invited. However, a few hours ago, forgetting the date you had, text Jake wondering if you two could meet up that night. 

He had seemed more than enthusiastic but told you that y'all had to make a stop before he was able to go back to his place. Of course, you had not anticipated that stop was the cookout he and his friends had been planning and talking about for the last several weeks. 

"Well, I'm not his girlfriend, but I appreciate being involved in the party. It's been really fun so far. I'm very honored to be included."

Coyote looked confused, narrowing his eyes at you. "You are Y/N? Right?" he asked, his voice seeming unsure.

"Yeah, I'm Y/N," You bit your lip, trying to think of something that might be identifying about you. "I'm sure it's confusing, but Hangman might have mentioned I'm the one who makes him drive me all over. Especially if we are going to his place on base." You hoped the detail would jog his memory. You weren't sure how many other girls on Jake's roster would do that to him or how much he actually would mention you to his best friend. 

"Yeah, that's what I thought. It's not confusing." Coyote still didn't look like he was completely getting at what you were saying. 

"Well, I wouldn't blame you if it was confusing. But, it's nice for y'all to include me since I just came by unofficially invited."

"Y/N, of course, we wanted you to come. Did you have something else to be doing with your Sunday afternoon?" 

"No, I didn't. I was just shocked because, well, it is Sunday. I used to be the Wednesday Thursday girl, but now I'm usually around more on the Friday Saturday train." 

"Yeah. Y/N, I promise I know exactly who you are. You make those delicious crepes." Javy said. He shook his head at you, and you couldn't help but still feel like you were missing something but decided to brush it off. 

"Yeah, I like to make them sometimes."

"Hangman brought some in for his lunch a few weeks ago and almost murdered me when I stole a bite."

You laughed at this, picturing the two aviators. "Well, if you liked them, I would be more than happy to make you some sometime."

"Make what?" You heard Jake's voice ask from next to you. 

You turned to the spot he had appeared and gave him a soft smile. The wind had tousled his hair, and his sunglasses were precariously perched on his head. You automatically reached up and pulled them off Jake's head, tucking them into the white v-neck he was wearing before they could fall off his head and take damage in the sand. His eyes filled with affection at your action, and the edge of his lip quirked up. 

"Y/N was just offering to make me crepes sometime," Coyote filled in. 

The warm look in Jake's sea glass eyes disappeared, and he cut his gaze to look at Coyote instead of you. "Oh really? Wow."

"Yeah, I was telling her how good those ones I stole a few weeks ago were."

"It wouldn't be that much trouble to make them. That way you don't have to get murdered," you joked.

"You've only ever made me crepes when I beg for them. You said you only make them for special people." Jake said, a small frown on his face. You looked over at him, confused, and cocked an eyebrow. 

"All my friends are special people, Jake." You shot Coyote a wink and a small smile, not wanting to make things too weird with Jake's wingman. "My new friends are obviously included on that list, even if they haven't been friends with me as long as you have, Hangman."

He looked like he wanted to say something, but before he could get the words out, Javy jumped in and changed the subject. 

Jake didn't leave your side the rest of the party after that, making sure he was involved in all your conversations. Then, when things had started to wind down, and you were helping clean up a bit, he slipped away from you. You saw him having a conversation with Coyote again. When you caught the two men staring at you during their conversation, you had given them a small wave. Javy had given you a kind smile back, but the knit in-between Jake's eyebrows only got deeper. 

In fact, you didn't see him smile again until you were driving back to his place on base, humming along with the music he had playing. Spending time with his friends and the slight buzz from the alcohol made you feel bold, so you took his right hand in your left and intertwined your fingers. The smile on his face was so bright; he probably could have turned off the headlights, and y'all would have been just fine. 

——-

You had offhandedly mentioned something about the day being hot and perfect for ice cream while checking the weather app in bed that morning. You thought Jake had still been half asleep when you brought it up because he hadn't even made a sound of acknowledgment. Instead, all he did was nuzzle your neck and tighten the arm he wrapped around your waist. 

That's why it was a surprise when he had pulled his truck into a parking spot near the beach while driving you home in the early afternoon. He further surprised you by taking your hand in his and not letting go until after you had both gotten ice cream, which he had insisted on paying for. 

From there, he led you to the park by the beach, wandering through the different pathways. The two of you were making general conversation. It shocked you how fast Jake demolished his ice cream. Then suddenly, he was looking at you with puppy eyes.

"Can I try some of yours?" He asked sweetly. 

"No, you had your own! This is mine."

"Please, baby, just a little taste," Jake even went as far as to stick out his bottom lip a little bit. 

You pretended like you were considering it and then finally nodded, holding out your ice cream cone. Jake leaned forward to take a small taste, but you pushed it further into his face. It smooshed all over his mouth and nose. The look of shock on his face, combined with the ice cream, made you giggle, having to hold your side from the laughter coming from you. 

"Oh no, baby. You're going to have to pay for that." Jake whipped his face off on the sleeve of the teeshirt he was wearing and glared up at you. Then he started towards you, his hands reaching out to snatch you. You clutched what was left of your ice cream and escaped Jake's searching grasp. You started running away from him, but he was right on your heel. 

It didn't take him more than a moment to catch you and sweep you off your feet. He twirled you around twice before setting you on the ground again, both of you laughing. Jake's hands not moving from where they were circled around your waist.  

You tried to pull away from his embrace when you caught your breath. This only forced him to tighten his arms around you more so that you were now essentially pressed flush to his chest. 

Your eyes roamed his face, and one of your hands clutched his neck. You were tempted to kiss him then, but this whole outing really went against your fuck buddies, friends with benefits, situation you had going on. In fact, most of the things the two of you did together anymore didn't fit into that category. However, before you could commit to pressing your lips together, an elderly couple approached the two of you. 

"You two are such a sweet couple," the old woman said with a twinkle in her eye. 

"Oh, we aren't," you started to say, but you were cut off by Hangman interrupting you. 

"Thank you so much," Jake said with a smile. 

"Now, you two never stop having fun. It'll keep you young," The older gentleman said. The couple smiled at you once more before continuing to walk through the park. 

"I can't wait to be old and happy like that. They were so adorable," Jake said, staring after the two retreating figures. The quiet affection that he was openly showing startling you. You were so caught up in staring at him that you forgot the question on the tip of your tongue about why didn't he let you correct the couple. It was even further pushed to the side when you noticed your melted ice cream dripping. Down your hand and on to Jake again. 

"I think I might need to shower now, and yours is so much bigger than mine," Jake told you, also noticing the mess you two made. He wasn't upset and didn't even seem a little bit bothered by how sticky you two were. 

"I think that can be arranged, Lieutenant Commander Seresin." 

----

After that, it never seemed to be the right time to bring up the couple thing since the moment had passed. However, it was all starting to bother you. Everything you did together felt like a small barb to your heart. The nights spent in his arms, paired with how sweet and affectionate Jake would be. The constant use of pet names. How you spent time with his friends, and that he had started meeting yours. The way that he knew your order at half the restaurants you went to anymore and how you liked to take your morning drink. The way it felt like second nature to hold hands, or for him to grab your thigh when you were driving together in his truck. It was all too familiar, too sweet. 

In your mind, you were thinking about him, wondering how he was doing, planning your weeks and weekends around the time you would spend withJake. But, it had started to become very apparent that your heart was going to get broken. You had let yourself get way too involved with the aviator. So, you decided to hurt yourself a little bit before he could hurt your feelings a lot. 

The next week when Jake texted you asking if you wanted a ride to the bar, you had texted him a kind reply that you weren't planning on going out that night. He had immediately fired back another message asking if you wanted him to pick up take out and come over instead. You again said no and told him to have fun at the bar. Given your rebuffs, it was even more surprising to get text messages from him the next morning. You had fully expected Hangman to still be wrapped around whichever beautiful girl you knew he took home from the bar. 

Saturday market this morning? 

Fresh mini-donuts, on me. 

I can pick you up whenever you're ready. 

Your heart clenched reading the messages, but you decided not to respond. Best to leave it, then try and spend another hour crafting something that made it seem like you didn't care about the offer. So, you decided to jump in the shower and pick how you were going to spend your first Saturday in what felt like a long time without Hangman. However, when you finished your shower and checked your phone, there was a missed call and another message from him. 

Beach day, if you don't want to do the market? 

I'm open to suggestions. 

You stared at the messages; you wanted to say yes, but you knew you had to say no. The more time you spent with him, the more in love you knew you would fall. You were stopping this in its tracks. You had to be strong. 

Great suggestions. I can't today I'm not feeling super great. 

Do you need anything? Medicine? Soup? Cuddles?

No, I am good. Thanks Hangman! 

You had almost sent a heart emoji but caught yourself before you did. You did spend the rest of the day doing chores and chilling, watching Netflix. You also spent the day ignoring the memes and check-in messages Hangman was sending you. He was texting you all week, and you stopped responding to him entirely on Wednesday. It wasn't quite ghosting, but you expected him to take the hint and leave you alone. You did seem to forget that persistence and consistency were a staple of Jake's personality. 

He hadn't stopped messaging you all week. On Friday, like clockwork, you got a message from Jake as he was getting off shift. 

How are you feeling today, sweetheart? 

What are we doing tonight? 

You left his text messages to sit. You had no idea how he hadn't picked up that you weren't talking to him. You had even gone as far as making sure that your read receipts were on for him. An hour passed before your phone pinged again. 

I'm worried. Are you okay?

Send a random emoji if you've been kidnapped. 

Not kidnapped.

Busy. Can't see you anymore.

Glad you aren't dead. 

What about tomorrow?

When I said can't see you anymore. I didn't mean just tonight. 

I can't see you again, at all Jake. I was trying to give you hints.

I've had a lot of fun with you, but I'm done now. 

Please stay safe out there. 

The three dots indicating he was typing immediately popped up, and you waited. After five minutes, you were worried about what kind of paragraph you were going to get convincing to keep being his friends with benefits, but it never came. Instead, the three dots disappeared, and you didn't get any response back. 

Even though this is what you had wanted, what you decided was best. The urge to cry and throw your phone across your room was bubbling in you. It wasn't fair for you not to be direct with him anymore. The small part of you that was hoping he would have some sort of reaction was crushed. But it was done now, over. You could finally start to move on from whatever it was you had with Jake. Let your heart start to stitch itself back together. 

That manifested as yourself wearing pajamas wrapped up in a blanket and watching your favorite comfort movie. You were only about halfway through it when there was a knock at your door, followed by your doorbell being rung twice in a row. You wanted to ignore it, but when the doorbell rang again, you paused your movie and pulled yourself to the door. 

Before opening the door, you grabbed the baseball bat you kept for safety and slowly opened it. The sight before you made you drop your bat, it clanging loudly on the ground. Jake "Hangman" Seresin was on your front step, holding a massive bouquet of seasonal flowers and wearing his dress whites. Your jaw dropped, and you were half tempted to close the door because you had to be hallucinating. 

"I don't know what I did wrong, but whatever it was, I am so sorry." He held the flowers out in front of him like some kind of offering, wiggling them slightly like that would get you to spring into action and accept his apology. Your tongue felt like it had swollen, and you were still in too much shock to respond. 

Jake moved in closer, so he was practically in your doorway now. "Can you forgive me? I haven't seen you in two weeks, and I miss my girl so much." 

His phrasing snapped you out of the mindset you were in, and your grip tightened on the door. "I'm not your girl."

"I'm not letting you break up with me over text Y/N."

"Break up with you?" you asked, confused.

"What else would you call that text? I thought everything was going great, but clearly, I was wrong. We can talk this out, maybe if you let me inside?" His voice remained level and calm, but you could tell that he was a boiling pot of emotions on the inside. His posture was a little too straight, the grip on the flowers almost too tight. 

You stepped to the side to let him into your house. Before coming in, he stooped down to grab a vase that you hadn't noticed until now on the ground before slipping past you. He made a b-line to your kitchen, and you stumbled to put away your baseball bat and close the door. You followed after him hearing water running in your sink. 

"I knew you didn't have any vases big enough for this arrangement." Jake emptied the long-lasting flower food pack that came with the bouquet into the vase and water. He didn't look at you until the flowers were properly settled on your counter and leaned back next to them. You were still lingering in the doorway to your tiny kitchen. 

"I definitely wouldn't have, thank you." 

"I hope you like them."

"They are beautiful."

Silence stretched out between you and him. He was waiting patiently, his arms crossed over his chest. It provided an ample distraction to your nerves, eyes tracing the strain of his muscles against the white of his shirt. 

"Okay, we got to get this over with and talk. What did I do?" Jake asked, finally breaking the silence between you two. 

"You didn't do anything wrong or bad."

"How could that be possible? You don't break up with someone for no reason. Or ignore them and leave them on read."

You let out a frustrated huff and crossed your own arms staring down the aviator. "I realized I couldn't just sit around and wait for you to break my heart."

"I wasn't planning on breaking your heart, baby."

"Well, I'm sure you wouldn't have done it on purpose."

"If we are talking about broken hearts, maybe we should be talking about mine. The one you have been stepping all over for months now." 

"I've been stepping all over your heart?" You asked him in disbelief, pointing at yourself like there was anyone else in the room.

"Yes!" Jake's hands came down to grip the edge of your kitchen counter. "We have been dating for months, and you have refused to tell anyone. Denying at every turn. You acted like we weren't even together when you were hanging out with my friends. You flirted with Coyote and said you would make him crepes!"

"I was trying to be nice to your wingman. I was not flirting." Hangman rolled his eyes at you, saying that. "Plus," you continued on, ignoring his eye roll. "We aren't together. We aren't dating. I'm just one of your fuck buddies." 

His eyes widened, and he stared at you in shock. "Oh my god," he breathed out. "You really haven't thought we are dating?"

"No?" You told him. Not sure why he seemed so confused by this. 

"We spend almost every weekend together, and we talk every day."

"Yeah, I know. Why do you think I," You couldn't even finish your sentence, though. 

"I don't know where our miscommunication happened," Jake told you, stepping away from the counter and slowly pacing towards you in the doorway. "But I am stopping it right now in its tracks. And I will say this, I have been under the impression you were my girlfriend since I took you sailing. I asked you if there was anyone else in the picture, and you said no. Then when I asked if I could be in the picture, you said I could be the whole picture."

"That was like the fourth time we hung out, Jake." 

"Yeah, I know," he breathed, and he was only a few feet away from you now. 

"I don't know what to say." Your mind was spinning. You were so confused you thought Jake had been seeing other people this whole time. You had not interpreted that conversation to mean you were dating or exclusive. He just hummed and stepped closer to you so that you were now inches apart. 

"There hasn't been anyone else?"

"No. No one else. Not even in the start. It has only been you, baby girl."

"I thought." 

His lips ghosted over yours, then taking your breath away. "Stop thinking so much. I love you. Do you love me?" He asked, his hand coming up to cup your face and tip your head slightly so your eyes could meet his. You took a bated breath, mind whirling a million miles an hour before you could respond. 

"I love you too, Jake." 

"Good," Jake said, grinning. "Now, will you be my exclusive girlfriend, my other half, and continue to be my favorite person I spend all my weekends with?"

"Yes, I would like that very much." 

That was what it took for Jake to finally kiss you. His hand cupping your cheek, pressing you in close to the wall pinned there with his own body. And there was absolutely nowhere else you wanted to be, except maybe in bed with this man. Something that was quickly remedied only a few minutes later. 

#jake seresin x reader #hangman x you #hangman x reader

[wordbunch]

SFW Alphabet: Frodo

a/n: anon requested, this is for all the frodo girlies out there - y'all are one of the pillars of this fandom, truly! i feel like (and hope) this is very cute <3 enjoy and be kindly reminded that all feedback/reblogs are so appreciated xxx and my drafts are almost cleared out - stay tuned for new things!

A = AFFECTION (how affectionate are they and how do they show affection?) He needs a little bit of time to get completely comfortable with being openly affectionate to you, but once he does, there is affection galore! In many little ways - running to hug you after being apart, making you tea, reading to you, questioning you about your interests. And he likes to feel you close at all times, whether it’s just pinky fingers interlocked in a public setting, or an evening cuddle session.

B = BEST FRIEND (what would they be like as a best friend and how would the friendship start?) He would be a really nice best friend, you would be able to confide in him about anything, you’d lean onto each other during tough times, but it would also be balanced out with a good amount of jokes, little adventures, and of course trading books!

C = CUDDLES (do they like to cuddle & how?) He is a cuddly person through and through, he will initiate it relatively often, but if you want to make him extra happy, you be the one who suggests a cuddle session. He likes to read with you while you cuddle, so a common position would be your head leaning on his shoulder and one of his arms around you, while he holds a book in the other.

D = DOMESTIC (do they want to settle down; how are they at cooking/cleaning?) Probably yes, he loves his home and he is comfortable there, but what would make it even better is if you stayed forever! Frodo is pretty neat and clean, maybe not the best cook, but at least he is tidy. If you like to cook, he will enthusiastically learn from you, or just hang around while you do it.

E = ENCHANTED (what was their first opinion/feeling about you when you just met?) He was eavesdropping on you a little bit as you talked to a friend of yours about something you were passionate about, and he found it so charming that he immediately decided he needed to build up the courage to go and talk to you, because you sounded so interesting. And he loves an interesting conversation!

F = FIANCE(E) (how do they feel about commitment; how quickly would they want to get married?) Commitment - yes, for sure! However he takes a bit of time to make up his mind about taking such an important step, and he wants to know as certainly as possible how you feel about it. He’d never want you to feel forced into anything or to regret such a big decision, maybe he even overthinks it a little bit.

G = GENTLE (how gentle are they, physically and emotionally?) Come on he is The Baby!!! He is so soft and loving towards you in all the possible love languages and he is absolutely the kindest little soul!!!

H = HUGS (do they like hugs, how often, what are they like?) Big fan of hugging, he will hug you at any given opportunity, he’ll literally run to you and hug you when he sees you after a few hours of being apart! His heart flutters when you do the same, especially if it’s in public, since his reputation isn’t exactly the most amazing - it means a lot to him when you show him off a bit.

I = I LOVE YOU (how fast they say the L-word) I think he falls in love pretty quickly but he would push the feeling aside, or try to, because at first he thought he doesn’t have much of a chance with you… wrong! Even after you begin to return some of his affections, he would put the “L-word” on hold, but eventually when he confessed it was super romantic - maybe a poem or a letter with rose petals inside of it while he waited anxiously somewhere behind a corner to see your reaction.

J = JEALOUSY (how jealous do they get and how they act then) Frodo is not jealous at all, he is literally too pure for that and he trusts you endlessly. In case someone is bothering you a bit too much, you can just give him a “save me” look and he will be there in an instant, more worried for you than jealous. Sometimes he will deem someone more suitable for you than himself, so he might grow a little quiet while pondering his insecurities, but if you kiss him on the lips in front of everyone, the negative feelings will dissipate rather quickly.

K = KISSES (what are their kisses like, where do they like to kiss you/be kissed?) He’s a little bit shy when it comes to kissing you and a little hesitant, so he appreciates it if you take charge when it comes to that, at first. Later on he will kiss you without a second thought, and he relishes in kissing you on the cheeks, you’re just so cute and precious (oops)!!! Maybe he won’t go for it in public, but if you kiss him on the lips in front of others he will blush FURIOUSLY but he will be unable to wipe the smile off of his face. Also he’s very respectful and will kiss you on the back of your hand a lot.

L = LOVE LANGUAGE (what is their love language and how they show you love) Acts of service and words of affirmation! I don’t think I need to explain the ‘acts of service’, but as for words of affirmation, he’s a nerd who reads a lot and has a wide vocabulary in more than one language - you’ll often find him lavishing you with compliments and sweet declarations of love. Maybe quality time as well.

M = MORNINGS (how are mornings spent with them) I think he could be a morning person! As much as he wants to cuddle with you a bit longer while you’re still asleep, he will most likely get up, open the windows, put some tea to brew so that you wake up to fresh tea. If he wakes up early enough, he will even go outside to pick you a few flowers to give you as soon as you open your eyes so that your day starts in the best possible ways. 

N = NICKNAMES (do they like to use cute nicknames for you/you for them?) Actually not so much, he likes to stick to the classics like ‘dear’ or ‘love’, and he likes it when you call him that as well.

O = OPEN (when would they start revealing things about themselves; everything at once or wait a while to reveal things slowly?) Somewhere in between. You two build a solid friendship, and then a relationship, through a lot of talking about all things, and a lot of pretty good communication, and some things just pop up with time. He grows to trust you more than anyone and knows he can confide in you with basically anything, however big or small.

P = PATIENCE (how easily angered are they?) Literally never ever, especially not at you! He gets more annoyed than angry with things, and he will absolutely vent to you about anything. At some point he will stop himself and be like “sorry, did I burden you too much” but you think it’s kinda cute when he’s ranting about something.

Q = QUIZZES (how much would they remember about you – every little detail you mention in passing or do they kind of forget most things?) He remembers quite a lot and he likes to learn things about you, about things you like, things from your past, things you love. He will ask you to elaborate on anything and everything and then listen to you with a smile on his face.

R = REMEMBER (favorite moment in your relationship) When he first introduced you to his besties!!! He was and is SO proud to be with you, and he had a feeling they would love you but he was still a little bit anxious because that’s just how he is. But of course you hit it off immediately, and before you knew it you could turn to Sam for advice, or have inside jokes with Merry and Pippin, and all that makes Frodo so happy - he is close to them, and you’re his special person, so his heart triples in size when he sees you getting along.

S = SECURITY (how protective are they; how they'd like to be protected and how they protect you) A moderate amount - he has a lot of respect for you and your independence, but at the same time he can be a little anxious. If needed be, he will stand up for you, or get you out of a situation as soon as you give him The Look, but he won’t necessarily step in if you seem to have everything under control. Sometimes you can be a bit too defensive of him, which is especially understandable after the quest, so if you shut down any rude comments he will be relieved, but sometimes reassure you that you don’t need to expose yourself for his sake that much. 

T = TRY (how much effort do they put into dates, gifts, anniversaries, everyday stuff) Frodo is a very romantic soul, and he will try to create special moments with you as often as possible, but still manage to keep you on your toes. On some extra special days, like birthdays and anniversaries, you can expect really well-thought out gifts (gifts, plural), which show that he really knows you and really listens to what you say and what you want. On other regular days, he will get you flowers in the morning, get you your favorite book for no special reason, or ask Sam to help him prepare food for a romantic picnic on a hill at sunset.

U = UGLY (some bad habits of theirs) He can be in his head a lot and he can zone out relatively easily, especially when he’s bored (he hates being bored so he often turns to his imagination). It’s not necessarily that bad of a habit

V = VANITY (how concerned are they with their looks?) As long as he’s clean and has clean clothes on, he is good to go. He will most definitely ask you for your opinions, and if he notices that you particularly like when he wears this or that shirt, he will make sure to wear it more often. Maybe he even likes to match with you in subtle ways!

W = WISH (something that they really want to do/experience with you?) He would love love love to visit Rivendell with you once more, but this time without any burdens or threats. It’s such a magical and comforting place, and he would love nothing more but to enjoy it with you in peace, listen to elvish music, take long walks and appreciate all the stunning nature. 

X = XTRA (a random headcanon for them) Not the best of singers, but he’s very talented with words and writes quite decent poetry. At first he doesn’t want you to see it, maybe only for your birthday or anniversary he might write you a little something. Obviously, you love it, and that boosts his confidence and encourages him to show you more of his works.

Y = YUCK (what are some things they dislike generally or in a partner?) He despises violence, obviously even more after the quest!!! Boy just wants to live in peace!!!

Z = ZZZ (a sleep habit of theirs) He quietly mumbles nonsense in his sleep on the nights when he’s extremely tired, and sometimes it can be super funny! Also it’s a habit that he pulls you closer in his sleep if he doesn’t feel you nearby anymore… adorable!

-

taglist my beloved @starlady66 @queenmeriadoc @entishramblings @thesolarangel @silversword7000 @friendofthefellowshipsnerdblog @averys-place @valkyriepirate @emmaarenstarr @noldorin-painter @asianbutnotjapanese @adamgetawaydriver @fenharel-enaste @ironmandeficiency @starryeyedrogue @dinofromspac3 @wisheduponastar @lady-of-imladris @frodo-cinnamonroll @unethicallypleistocene @deadlymistletoe @suncran @high-sea-husbands @asianbutnoteastasian @aidansloth @moth-makay

@bubbleyukismile @kitexvi @herstudios

i hope i tagged everyone right cause my taglist is a mess oops-

#lotr x reader #lord of the rings x reader #lotr fanfiction #lotr imagine #lord of the rings imagine #from my pocketses #frodo baggins #frodo baggins x reader #frodo x reader #lord of the rings #lotr

[vainvenus]

⌲;꒰ Groovy! ꒱

Pairing :: Johnny Cade x Fem!Reader

Synopsis :: Johnny starts to crush on Dally's new friend who's a little bit different from everyone else.

Includings :: Hippie!reader, mutual pinning, readers love languages is personal touch, wingman!Dally, panicking!Johnny, this is kinda short, fluff

An - I'm just trying to drop/finish my drafts even though i think this fandom is practically dead...send outsiders requests if you'd like though!

"I still don't get all that peace and love crap, it's not gonna solve anything." Dally scoffed as he walked beside the you and you shrugged your shoulders.

"You don't have to understand me. If you think fighting will solve everything I'll let you think that." You shrugged and Dally rolled his eyes slightly before his brows raised a little bit and he waved his hand up at a figure who was a few feet away.

"Johnny! That you, man?" He called out and the black hair boy froze like he was caught doing something illegal until he saw a familiar face and he eased up.

He walked over, looking over to the you. He took quick notice of your wardrobe, upi didn't look like too much like a Soc and you definitely couldn't of been a greaser.

You wore a white shirt that seemed a few sizes to big and bell bottom jeans that had multiple patches of different patterns along them and tan sandals. You had multiple necklaces on and a mute orange bandana.

You smiled softly at him and waved your fingers at him which made him stomach flutter a little bit.

"Aww, so you weren't lyin'! You do have friends~!" Yoi giggled, hitting the boy softly on the shoulder and the brunette rolled his eyes with a small snarl.

"Haha, so funny. Johnny, flower power. Flower power, Johnny."

"Flower power?" Johnny repeated as he shook your hand and you let out a short giggle which made his stomach flutter all over again.

"Not my real name of course, it's a nickname. My real name is [Y/n] but you can call me whatever ya' like."

"Ohh." Johnny nodded along, noticing how you still hadn't let go of his hand. Yours were warm and felt comfort at touch. "I...uh..I like your pants."

You beamed, letting go and shaking your leg a little. "Really? Dally thinks they look like an art project gone wrong."

"Because they do." Dally muttered and you rolled your eyes.

"I think they're far out, you're such a downer Dally! Hah! Downer Dally!" You laughed and Dally had let out a sarcastic chuckle with another eye roll. "Ahah. Almost busted a lung there."

"See? A downer. Johnny-man thought it was funny." You turned back to Johnny, messing with one of the loose patches on your jeans. "I could make ya' a pair- actually they probably wouldn't be your sty-"

"I'd like that!" Johnny piped up before you could shut the idea down and your eyes widened in surprised, you smiled at him. "Really?"

He nodded, smiling growing along with yours. "Groovy! I'll get onto it as fast as I can."

"Groovy?" Johnny repeated, tilting his head a little bit and you nodded. "Groovy, it's kinda like when y'all say tuff. It's just a good thing."

"Oh, groovy." Johnny said and you had giggled, patting his shoulder.

"You make it sound so weird like it's a different language or something. It's kinda cute." Johnny only smiled, trying to ignore the fact that you had called him cute.

Dally looked between the two of you, narrowing his eyes a little bit before a small smirk itched onto the end of his lips.

"Johnny, you wanna tag along with us? We were just about to head and see that new movie that just came out."

"You should, if you don't mind horror movies." You added and Johnny pressed his lips together in a small yet strained smile.

"Naw, I don't mind."

★

"I could have paid for y'all, you know. We didn't have to break in." You sighed and Dally chuckled.

"Now where's the fun in that?" He hummed as they all took their seats, a little bit away from the front.

"What kind of horror movie is it again?" Johnny asked and Dally shrugged his shoulders. He never really came to pay attention to the movies, he came to be a bother to those who were trying to.

"Some sort of slasher. Shouldn't be too frightening if you're scared."

"I'm not scared!" Johnny squeaked and you had giggled, leaning back in the chair.

"It's alright if you are. I wouldn't judge. You can even hold my hand if you want." You offered as the movie had and started. Johnny pursed his lips before he took your hand in his.

"I'm just holding yer' hand in case you get scared." He established and you had nodded, entwining your fingers with his their hands were basically locked together.

He smiled at that as he tried to focus on one thing.

Not looking like a scaredy cat.

But the movie was barley ten minutes in before Johnny had jumped back in his seat from the killer jumping out of nowhere, his scream muffled in the collar of his jean jacket.

He glanced over at you as he felt you squeeze his hand comfortingly. "Sorry.." He mumbled, his sunkissed skin growing warm from embarrassment.

"Don't apologize. You don't have to act all tough for me, Johnny. It's a horror movie for a reason." You reassured with a small smile as you moved closer to him, resting your head on his shoulder.

"Next time we can see something a little more relaxing."

"Next time?" He repeated like it was a foreign statement.

You nodded excitedly. "Yeah, next time! Do ya' not wanna see me again or something?"

"No!" Johnny quickly said. "I'd.. I'd love to see a movie with you again."

"Groovy."

#the outsiders #the outsiders x reader #johnny cade #Johnny Case x reader

[missmaywemeetagain]

Pink Scarf - Part 20 (Elvis/Austin!Elvis x Reader)

Character/Fandom: Elvis - Elvis (2022)

Requested: kinda

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

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

TW: SEXXXXXXXX. Dom/sub stuff. Angst (as always). Fluff (finally)? Medication/drug use/overdose mentions. Dub con mentions(sort of?). Cussing. Infidelity. Historical inaccuracies in the Vegas timeline. Priscilla doesn't exist in this timeline.  

Rating: Explicit/Mature (NSFW, 18+, so minors Do NOT Interact)        ||     Word Count: 15.2k (CUZ Y'ALL DESERVE IT)

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

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

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

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

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

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

If you feel so moved, please let me know what you think or how you're feeling (or send me asks)! I think I put everyone on the taglist who requested it, but please let me know if there are any issues or if I missed anyone. There seem to be some issues with tagging that I can't seem to fix, so please know I'm not leaving you out intentionally! Also, if you comment on a previous part that you want to be tagged, I might not always see it, so feel free to message me if I miss you!

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

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

(I did start cross-posting Pink Scarf to my AO3 account, as well as my NEW Wattpad account. so if you are so inclined, you can check it out/support me over there with kudos and votes and whatnot!)

Stop her, stop her, stop her…

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

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

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

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

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

If anything, he’s cared too much.

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

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

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

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

He’s too late.

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

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

Suddenly, everything feels much too heavy.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

I’ll always be alone.

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

*

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Something in the way she says it gives him hope.

“You need to fix this, Elvis.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

He nods.

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

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

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

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

**

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

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

You can’t seem to escape him.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Damn him and Sandy both.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I take care of what’s mine.”

“You were made for me.”

“You belong here with me.”

“It’s meant to be…”

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

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

 At all

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I need you.”

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

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

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

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

Your heart stops. And you finally remember.

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

He’s loved you all along.

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

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

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

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

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

“I-I-I…and I’m so sorry, y/n.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Okay,” you whisper back.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You nod. You put the scarf in your purse.

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

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

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

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

When it’s time, I’ll know.

**

Four Weeks Later

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

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

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

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

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

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

You’d called her last night.

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

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

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

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

“Y/n.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“On your knees,” you command.

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

“Did I stutter?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Show me,” you command.

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

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

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

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

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

“Use your words,” you order.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And he’s all yours.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Get on your back,” you demand.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

But perhaps that is your own ego talking.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Completely,” he nods back.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He nods furiously, eyes unfocused.

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

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

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

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

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

“Mamaaaa…need y-you,” he begs.

This makes you smirk coyly.

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

He can only manage a whimper in response.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Still sensitive, you think.

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

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

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

“I love you,” he whispers.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Finally, you are exactly where you need to be.

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

Here, with Elvis.

*

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

*

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#Pink Scarf #Pink Scarf Part 20 #Pink Scarf THE END #elvis #elvis presley #if you’re looking for trouble #you came to the right place #elvis 2022 #elvis movie #elvis presley x reader #elvis x reader #austin butler elvis #austin!elvis presley x reader #austin!elvis x reader #elvis sm #elvis presely smut #elvis presley imagine #elvis imagine #austin elvis x reader #austin butler #austin elvis imagine #elvis fic #elvis fanfic #elvis fanfiction #elvis presley fanfiction #elvis presley fanfic #elvis angst #happy ending #missmaywemeetagain #elvis x y/n

[melloween-candie]

I said NO! [P.P & F]

Storybrooke/ Childish Peter & Responsible Felix x Reader

Requested // Request Rules

"Not in Neverland, but if you lived with Pan and Felix in Storybrooke or something, I feel like Pan would let you buy whatever you wanted and Felix would have to like, stop you. And it makes me laugh"

A/n - Omg yesss. Lol, I can totally see that! Like if they were modern or in storybrooke, Peter would be like-

"Y/n can have EVERYTHING they want!"

And Felix would be the more reasonable and down to earth one saying stuff like.

"But Peter!! That's so expansive!" Or like "Okay, well, how are we going to pay for that?!"

It would be such a cute situation 😍😂 I might even end up making a cute little drabble about it... 🤔 I don't know; it's up to y'all if y'all want to see it.

Reply

Asked by @emmaloo21

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

A/n - Welp, I guess you guys are seeing it! Hope it's okay that I made this into a polyfic. I wasn't really sure who you wanted me to ship on this one. But yeah, it's just a drabble~ hope you enjoy it!

Warning! Mentions of tantrums? Literally there's barely anything bad on here lol

Word Count: 764

[Drabble Fic]

Once Upon A Time Masterlist

Fandom Masterlists

/"Talking"//Thinking//Muttering-Whispering/

***Y/n's Pov***

Life has been a little chaotic ever since Peter and Felix arrived here in Storybrooke. Long story short, we managed to find a happy ever after for all of us.

Lucky for Peter, Regina and Emma allowed him to come with the help of Henry, convincing them, of course.

Now you might be wondering... Why in the world would Peter Pan want to leave Neverland? Well, he didn't. But I wanted to know he's here with me and Felix.

Oh, and by the way, we're all dating... Or at least I'm dating Peter and Felix. They aren't really dating each other since, well, they say they don't swing that way, but anything is better as long as I can love them both equally~!

Time skip!~

A good amount of time has passed since that incident, and people around here are starting to trust us. Which is a good thing since now we won't get a lot of death glares, and we can actually talk to Henry without anyone staring at us.

It felt great being able to just be a part of something, and the lost boys seemed to like their new environment, too. Some of them even have jobs!

Which reminds me of our struggles... Since Peter was the one behind all that havoc, it's kind of hard for him to get one... And besides that, he hasn't even put in a lot of effort into trying.

He'd always say stuff like, "Jobs are for old people. It sucks the life out of everyone!"

Meanwhile, Felix got a job super-fast. Which isn't much of a surprise since he's the responsible one in this relationship... Though, don't tell Peter I said that, or he'll throw a fit.

Anyway, I got a job, too, but it barely pays. I work here at Grannies as a busser. All I do is clean tables and dishes. It isn't hard since we don't get a lot of customers at once, but it's decent.

However, the pay isn't the greatest. It's fine for one person, but I'm with two others... So, we mainly have to rely on Felix's income.

He works as a construction worker, and he barely gets any time off... Especially the giant incident. Tiny literally destroyed half the town. It was a great pay, though.

Anyways, enough of that! Me, Felix, and Peter are currently heading to the grocery store to buy some food for the week.

Felix always hated shopping for food. But I know that's not true. He only hated it when me and Peter tagged along because we'd always add more than what was planned in the cart.

Felix would end up telling us no and to put it back, and Peter would say no to his demand every time, and those two would end up fighting about it all the way home.

It's honestly annoying. If I had enough money, I'd just buy groceries myself...

Anyways, it isn't all that bad. There'll be times when Peter and I would agree into getting something, and we'd pled Felix into buying it for us... That usually works surprisingly well.

Or times when Peter and Felix would agree into buying something, and they'd take it home to show me. Usually, it would turn out to be a gift they think I'd like or food they know I like. I love it when they do it for no reason. It always warms my heart knowing they both agreed to get it just for me~

Overall, life was great. Peter gets along with children surprisingly well. And they end up loving him too; meanwhile, they'd always avoid Felix at all costs. It was pretty funny.

Felix would always have to be the bad guy and pull Peter away from his fun. But that's how it always was. If Peter gets too ahead of himself or starts to think like he owns the place- Felix would always be there to slap some sense into him. And my part- well, my role is to help calm Peter down after he gets slaps.

His 'tantrums' are no joke people. Especially when he's trying his hardest to behave for me. After all, he didn't want this, but I'm sure deep down he actually enjoys it, and I know Felix does too.

He'd always smile for the strangest things... Like every time he finds a word for his crossword puzzle or when he finishes organizing something...

Overall, these two balance each other well, and I'm the glue to this whole ordeal! I wouldn't want it any other way, either~!

#once upon a time #ouat felix #ouat peter pan #ouat peter pan x reader #peter pan x reader #ouat felix x reader #poly relationship #peter pan x reader x felix #fanfiction #once upon a time fandom #fanfic #fluff #good cop bad cop

[bas-writes]

a lot has happened lately, but so far i haven't made any official statement about my decisions and the path i want to take as a writer. it was a long road of trial and error & detailed examination of conscience in regard of my bad habits, gained experience, and goals and expectations. there are some massive changes that i need to address, followed by explanation of my decisions. i know i don't need to explain myself but i feel it's only fair to my loyal readers to share at least little insight into the context.

I. One Piece goes on indefinite vacation...

not going to lie, i was falling out of this fandom for years. it's started in 2021 when i fell victim to bullying and stalking, initiated by a widely-known (and still active, as far as i am aware of) x reader writer. it's the biggest reason for my slow withdrawal but not a sole one: pressing discourse around my comfort characters, toxic environment i fell into when looking for a relief from relentless bullying, forcing myself to write for topics and characters i didn't even like, readers overstepping my boundaries over and over again, falling into a trap of purity culture...oh, the list is long. way too long.

i still love one piece but i don't want to create for it en-masse anymore. right now it's just a wound that's far from healing, i need to treat it at my own pace. aside from an occasional poke at sapphic topics and my fav trio, i doubt it will appear in other way than commissions or gifts for friends. and some characters (kid, sanji, marco, katakuri, shanks & a few more) will never return.

II. ...but new fandoms arrive!

jujutsu kaisen is right now the main love of my life & will remain as the main fandom for long. but i found more series and characters i adore enough to feel that creative spark buzzing in my veins. soon you should see fics appearing for: demon slayer, chainsaw man, haikyuu and hell's paradise!

i'm keeping my head low rn when it comes to requests but i want to hold at least a kinktober open for them so you definitely will have an opportunity to see your faves from those series from me!

III. It's a gender neutral & afab Y/N sphere now!

it's something that was inevitably floating over me and my fics (and some of y'all definitely caught the whiff of it already), but i couldn't quite find courage to put a hard limit. we all know how it is in the y/n circles: way too many people expect from writers to cater to everyone, and treat it as a personal offense if you prefer to play in your own sandbox. as if writing y/ns was "activism", not a fandom activity like any other.

so, i won't force myself to write against myself anymore. i feel the most happy and comfortable when i make my y/ns gender neutral and when i'm giving them vaginas (and sometimes boobs) when i'm writing smut with them. i don't want to battle my weirdly-veiled dysphoria to force female reader out of myself. i don't want to stress myself while writing amab y/n, from the sheer biological fact of being unable to relate via lack of penis, to being sick and tired of the toxicity and misogyny that m!reader circles reek of.

so, gender neutral and afab it is. sometimes i will stray towards afab nonbinary or transmasc direction, if i feel like i need some good gender vibes coming from my fics.

it doesn't mean i will never write different y/ns. commissions, gifts for friends, exchanges, random ideas for a plot that requires a specific kind of y/n, sapphics feels, and such will appear here and there. i will also interact lots with f!reader fics, since it's what i see lots around & don't mind reading, if i feel more fem or if it's from a writer i like and trust.

incoming ino x reader (that i hope to publish tomorrow) will be the last non-sapphic f!reader that will appear for a long while. all requests i'm keeping in my drafts right now will be turned into completely gender neutral or from fem to more general afab reader (i don't have any requests for amab readers rn anyway). unless you really don't want to have f!reader taken out of your request - then please, let me know, i will delete it so you can head with it to a different writer.

IV. Never miss a fic again - sign for a tag list!

and now a little treat! if you don't want to miss a fic about the topic that might interest you, you may sign for a tag list by filling a simple form!

V. And what am I going to do now?

write, write, and write even more! i wanna write the in the heat of spring drabbles before the spring is gone, have three fully-fledged multichapter fics outlined and itching to be written and posted, and an interactive event with which we will welcome the summer 💦

in june i want to publish a few sapphic fics that i had in mind for a while now & later towards the second half of summer (think august-september) i'll smile at you again with a kinktober i really want to complete this year!

there might be a few smaller events on the way, depending on how busy i'll be. there's an idea for dilf enjoyers and for a chubby y/n, as well as many others that still didn't take a clear shape.

i also didn't forget about the kiss event and nonsexual acts of intimacy for the fluff enjoyers!

if you survived this wall of text (or just scrolled down here lol understandable) - thank you for your patience, understanding, and support. whether you're here with me since the very beginning or clicked the follow recently, i'm happy to have you here ❤ if you have any questions or just want to talk, my askbox is open for any kind of interaction! and if you want to support a poor writer who has way too many health-related spendings lately, you can buy me a ko-fi ❤

#bas speaks

[luwritesomething]

hey!! i saw what you wrote about mickey, billy and stu taking care of the sick reader. so i was wondering if i could request something with billy and stu x the reader? basically, stu ends up catching the world’s WORST cold. we’re talking the poor love can barely get through a sentence because he keeps sneezing, shivering, and my god it is tissues galore up in this house.. SO, billy and the reader step up and insist on taking care of him! (sick stu would be so fucking adorable)

(also it’s up to you if you want to include billy or not!!) i don’t mind at all!)

ps: your work is absolutely AMAZING!! :)

Stu Macher Heacanons: Him catching a cold would include...

Warnings: Swearing lol, probably typos or bad constructed english, poly!ghostface (aka poly relationship between reader and billy/stu. not a warning in reality)

Edited?: Like always, no.

Reader's pronouns: Not stated, gender neautral (reader gets called 'angel' once)

Summary: Stu catching a terrible cold!!!!

Author's note: THANK YOU FOR REQUESTING FOR STU, I LOVE YOU. he gives me so much comfort <3 i made this in the form of headcanons, hope you don't mind. also, anon is referring to THESE headcanons, so you should go and check them out. also thank you so much for the compliment, you're lovely <3 here's my billy and stu playlist because why not.

criticism, comments and reblogs are always appreciated! requests are open, especially for scream! hit that anon button and tell me your ideas. in the scream fandom, i write for billy loomis, stu macher, randy meeks, tatum riley, sidney prescott, mickey altieri, kirby reid, chad meeks martin, mindy meeks martin, tara carpenter, anika kayoko and laura crane.

i feel like you wouldn't find out about him actually catching a very bad cold until billy appeared on your doorstep with the news.

it would literally go like this,,,

"billy?"

"we're going to stu's. he's sick."

"oh, hell."

it wasn't often that stu got sick, but you knew the eternal annoyance journey a sick stu would put you through.

you still love him, he's always so adorable, but oh sick stu...

the firsts days are the worse for him, because those are the days in which he really feels sick and he's shivering and coughing and covering himself up in blankets.

but once those days pass... he becomes a menace.

billy is the bad cop, you're the good one. neither of you had really realized the reality of that dynamic until a bedridden, fiverish stu called you out.

you two have learned to take advantage of that, though

"i said put the fucking thermometer!"

"NO!"

"stop yelling, you two! stu, please, put it on."

"...fine."

billy makes him soup, and during the few times you don't stay by stu's side, you help billy with whatever he's doing in the kitchen.

first time, stu accidentally poured the soup over himself because of his hands shaking so much and the three of you panicked.

constantly checking for fever, by putting either your hand or lips to his forehead.

billy can take a lot of things, but not snots. he gets really grossed out at the amount of tissues in stu's room, so if stu is too sick or tired to throw them out, you do it for him.

the amount of attention he receives from the two of you is worth the cold for stu.

"i'm sick of the soup."

"c'mon, stuwie. billy made it for you. have one more spoon?"

if billy loses his patience with stu, you're there to ease him and ground him.

and it works the other way around, because stu may call you angel, but everyone can lose their patience.

when billy starts getting tired of stu's sickness, he locks himself somewhere else and copies homework and the notes that stu has missed from school. it helps him stop being so cranky.

"you can't smoke when you're sick."

"...please?"

"... i can't say no to you. if billy finds out we're dead, so make it quick."

watching movies with him !!! even if he keeps sneezing !!!

y'all can't cuddle like you use to, but billy sits on the floor, you sit on a chair and stu sits on his bed as you all watch the movie on his bedroom's tv.

okay, listen !!

reading to him so he falls asleep. hell yeah,,,

billy would read him stephen king or some of his scary books, and you read him whatever he wants --- even if it's just comics.

he's just so happy about having you two taking acre of him.

#stu macher #billy loomis #stu macher x billy loomis x reader #stu macher x reader x billy loomis #billy loomis x stu macher x reader #billy loomis x reader x stu macher #scream #scream 1 #scream 1996 #scream franchise #scream fandom #lu write #my writing #writing #headcanons

[thexsilentxwordsmith]

Listen you lovely followers, readers, etc. I just need to say this.

Seriously, thank you for enjoying my stuff. Like I have been having such an awesome time writing for this blog, creating stories requested and not for you guys, and just enjoying the fandom in general.

That is all thanks to you.

I am blown away by all the support, comments, likes, messages. You don't know how much they all mean to me. It makes me excited to keep creating and bringing you all new and better stuff. I couldn't do any of it without y'all.

So, from the bottom of my heart, thank you! And may I continue to bring you all some awesome stuff this year 💚

#just had to say it #you guys are the best #i cant thank you enough #seriously #its been so much fun #lets continue the fun