#pls be free to not read all of this rant!!

[genericpuff]

idk who needs to hear this but if you're a writer looking for a webcomic artist and the best offer you can come up with is a 50/50 split "after gaining revenue", then that's literally asking for free work just with extra steps.

like first of all (and i'm sure people are gonna fight me on this) writing a webcomic and drawing a webcomic is not a 50/50 split, a scene that took you a half hour to write will take them hours to draw so it's literally more like 30/70

but also even IF your comic gains revenue, it's still not gonna pay for that labor, there are comic projects out there that have been going on for upwards of 10 years and beyond who are still maybe only making like $30/month on their patreon... and you only wanna pay them $15 of that?

please just consider writing a novel or short stories, or doing tabletop campaigns, or pitching scripts to comic publishers, or learning to draw yourself (even if you're bad at it! webcomics are allowed to grow and evolve in their art!), or doing RP, or doing anything that will get your ideas and stories out there without being at the expense of a whole ass other human being doing the brunt of the labor for free

no matter how dedicated you are to an idea or how convinced you are that it's truly a unique one that's worth working on, none of that will pay for the labor and time and efforts of people who you're asking to work for free to make your dream a reality. They have their own dreams that they're working on too.

#sorry i know this is very curt but i see this all the time #pls just be aware of what you're asking for if you're looking for a webcomic artist #i know you prolly really like reading webcomics but there's so much that goes into them that a lot of ppl don't realize #you're asking a LOT for someone to just love your own idea enough to work on it for free #sorry but most of us already have our own babies that we love and care for #self post #rant post #artist tips #writer tips #writing tips #hot take

[swearingcactus]

DETAILS IN FAR CRY 6 THAT I FOUND ON MY SECOND RUN THAT I CURSE UBISOFT FOR NOT EXPLORING FURTHER

this is a long ass post so im putting it under the read more tag haha woops

Dani was 18 when the orphanage let them go for being of-age (in May 2014), About a month later in June 2014, they were drafted into the military. They stayed in the military for 3+ years, as evident from a letter of warning issued to them in 2017 because they were doing black market smuggling. (I wish they explored more on this instead of just putting it in as letters we can find because it would've answered Dani's perhaps overtly casualness in doing smuggling activities for Bembe.)

Speaking of Bembe, remember the boat that Alejo and Dani were supposed to ride on to get away from Yara? It turns out Bembe was the one who got them that spot in the boat, with a letter sent to Alejo to leave with his friend that night. Since Bembe and Dani didn't know each other before the events in-game, Alejo must have contacted Bembe alone. This makes his death (and his ghost blaming Dani for it) hit a lot harder, considering Alejo had done the heavy lifting to get them both out of Yara, and Dani still didn't manage to do so.

If you leave to find Libertad, but go back to the beach where Lita's body is still there, Dani will question Lita's opinion that what had happened was fate. (Before sadly and bitterly telling her to rest in peace.)

Despite this, a treasure hunt in El Este has Dani look for boats named after the Legends of '67. One of the boats is named Roja Victoria, to which Dani laughs at the name and says it's fate.

The 6 in Dani's default outfit/baseball jersey might be a reference to them being the protag for far cry 6 (hurhur)

Dani's big dream after moving to Miami is to open a bodyshop called Huérfanos (orphans), (which is a weird ass branding for a business and I'm thankful that the evil ghost of Alejo talked shit about it 😭)

With two different voice actors (and surprisingly slightly different animations for cutscenes), there's a lot of differences on body language and how male and female dani talk with the other cast. Some notable differences are:

female dani tend to be calmer when talking to people, which makes her being the representative of Libertad trying to bridge communications a great choice. In comparison, male dani is more brash, but it fits with them being a nobody orphan from Esperanza with a Libertad armband that people are initially constantly hostile with.

when meeting espada, female dani caught espada's blade without flinching (badass). male dani pulled his head back as he caught it and was jittery after, which in reality would be more realistic.

male dani's character model is significantly more roughed up and bloodied during the torture scene in comparison to female dani's (booooo!!)

female dani sounded way nicer to diego, gently asking "and you won't be? 😔🥺" at diego's insistence that his father was only evil because he was brought up that way. male dani was straight up yelling the line "AND YOU WON'T BE ‼😤🤬" which makes the ensuing scene where diego almost shoot them hilarious with male dani's threat to shoot diego be much realer. that man was ready to throw hands with a 13 year old roblox player.

Also if you pay attention, Diego's screen during the hotel raid is a paused FPS game that kid is a #gamerrrr, and it's hilarious that the implication he's in the hotel suite is just because he wants to peacefully game. (also also Diego might just be the second canonical gamer in Far Cry, considering Jason's the first. Nick Rye from FC5 is also a gamer but he seems to only play arcade games. Vaas being a gamer with his knowledge of Silent Hill is debatable as the DLC may or may not be canon.)

back to male and female dani's differences, during the dinner scene where Antón was threatening to kill Clara and Juan was going to shoot Diego, f!Dani kept staring at Diego and quite obviously says "Juan." warningly, while m!Dani glances at Diego before closing his eyes and whispers Juan under his breath. (Personally m!Dani's approach to try and warn Juan without letting Antón know is more nuanced imo)

m!Dani panicked more when Clara was shot than f!Dani, but f!Dani panicked and yelled out "DIEGO, NO!" when Diego was shot in comparison to m!Dani's quiet horror

m!Dani has a more snappy/accusatory tone when talking to Clara when he was going to meet Máximas Matanzas, re:how a lot of people got hurt due to the riots that they caused in Esperanza. this makes his interaction with them a lot more interesting, since it's obvious Dani disagrees with plenty of their actions (Talia killing Marquessa, his initial annoyance at Bicho, Paolo killing that doctor after getting the intel, etc.)

Valle de Oro is the ONLY time in-game that Dani complains that they have done plenty of things for the faction and demanded them to do something (the rap show) in exchange.

this also makes Dani's relationship with Bembe interesting especially with how Dani doesn't deny Bembe's line about not lying to their friends. Dani was just saying what they needed to say and did what they needed to do to get Máximas Matanzas with Libertad, not because they actually actively like them. Dani possibly didn't kill Bembe because deep down they agree with him to a certain level.

This is a bit of a stretch, but I'd like to say that at the end of Máximas Matanzas's arc, Dani agrees with Juan that their music was no Pedro Torrero, and might hint that Dani (like Juan) dislikes their voice and takes on the revolution, as well as being another way to cement the whole 'Dani will wind up like Juan, an adrenaline junkie addicted to the revolution' narrative.

Another case in point, Dani's much friendlier with Espada and with La Moral's crew, having heartfelt calls with Espada and partying along with La Moral.

Máximas Matanzas suffers a lot as being the most disliked part of the game, if Dani did dislike them and it was made as part of the story, it would actually make the whole thing way more interesting.

Another way Máximas Matanzas arc could've been better executed is if they just explored Talia's POV & the True Yaran Academy storyline further. A big part of why people hate the arc is because of Talia's constant bitching and ordering of Dani around and absolutely no plan other than being loud. The important thing about Talia is: her anger is just covering for her fear. We see this when she's visibly nervous (and hiding it with anger that they WON'T stop the show even as the FND is raiding their location), and when she shrinks when Maria started berating her and Paolo's ideals, something that must have been drilled onto her in the academy. Talia eventually snaps and kills Maria, a very, VERY, bad decision that paints Libertad in a bad light-- but if we had an insight to how the brainwashing worked like what happened in FC5 with Faith's region? Or see shells of people like the Marshall in 5, who were successfully brainwashed and what Talia feared to become? I think the storyline would've went very differently. regardless of Dani's opinion of her and how it would still be a dumb decision, we'd still understand where she was coming from-- something most players don't in the current storyline.

When you kill El Doctor, when Dani was still hallucinating, if you wait long enough and let El Doctor mock Dani, saying that orphans make the best test subjects, Dani would frustratedly yell at him to shut up.

Other than being likened to Juan, Dani is also called similar to El Tigre (being the fist of the revolution/the hero) and also to Lobo. The latter is interesting, because there is a lot of similarity between Lobo-Santos and Dani-Clara. Santos/Clara is the educated politician with a squeaky clean public image who orders the previously nobody Lobo/Dani around to do the dirty work. the only difference between them is that Lobo eventually snapped and aimed to rule Yara tyrannically and was put down. its a good thing Dani seems to have zero ambition! haha :)

After El Tigre hugs Dani when they first meet, Dani angrily tells him to "never do that again." we see that he actually honors this request. the next time El Tigre congratulates Dani for successfully taking back the hotel for La Moral, he just settled for a very enthusiastic handshake and shoulder squeeze

Yelena is catholic, she makes a cross before talking to her boyfriend's grave. Most yarans seem to be catholic but it seems like from the main cast, she's the only one other than the Castillos who's explicitly religious

Dani is also religious but to the native religion of Yara: Triada.

The religion is banned and deemed as a savage practice, and Dani mentions that they haven't seen the Triada symbols around since they were a kid.

The only other person who seems to worship the Oluwas that is named is the father of Zenia Zayas, Elisio, a propaganda artist who became depressed after his divorce and then turned to work with the FND. He became obsessed with the Oluwas and seemed to become insane with his worship to Ida, the Oluwa for passion, fire and war.

Dani is special in their devotion to the Oluwas because it seems that they did gain special favor from the gods, being able to get into the deepest magical caves and was deemed worthy by Oluso, the guardian. This makes Dani similar to Ajay in how they are somewhat chosen ones that doesn't go insane even with their proximity to supernatural powers like normal humans do (Ajay's being his multiple travels to Shangri La and visions as Kalinag that he brushes off like a whole chad.)

This is not a new detail but I'm gonna put it here since it's not mentioned anywhere in the wiki. The Triada features 3 Oluwas: Ida (a male Oluwa for passion, fire and war), Oku (a female Oluwa of water, life, and justice) and Mimo Abosi (Oluwa of wind, trickery, and luck).

There seems to be a lot of concept art re: dark magic rituals that didnt make the final cut except as easter eggs:

last but not least: dani is canonically short :)

#far cry 6 #far cry #good fucking luck reading all this #im cringe but i am free motherfucker! #far cry analysis #add more if yall find anything pls #this doubles as my rant post honestly

[hopecomesbacktolife]

I’m not going to reblog the post itself because I don’t want that behavior on my blog, but oh my god I just saw a post about “looking for fics about your favorite character on ao3” and good lord the amount of bad takes both in that post and in the notes?? I have to just ramble about this for a moment because oh my god. it was ludicrous.

people were complaining that, and get this, unfinished fics exist. and that if you read an unfinished fic you’ll have to, get this, wait to read more until it’s published next. they were allll up in arms that there’s fics for a character that don’t cater to their specific interests. that they involve other characters and either do/don’t put them in a romantic relationship when they want the opposite for the character.

like at this point, most of you people in the notes on that post are 1) just being mean and condescending about FREE WORKS you can, may I remind you, READ FOR FREE and EXIT at ANY time! if you don’t like it!, don’t read it!, it’s so simple!, and 2) straight up do not know how ao3 works lmao

like I saw soooo many people in the notes complaining about a certain ship, dynamic, tag, etc, and like… y’all know you can filter by romantic vs platonic pairings, by ratings, by excluding certain tags or other qualifiers, etc etc etc… you know about ao3’s actually incredibly usable filtering and searching system… right… right??

at this point I’m just convinced a lot of these people are spoiled by large fandoms with 100k+ works for their characters and have decided to just be mean and condescending for no reason on main, about literally free fan works you can read for free any time that people spend hours and hours pouring their free time into out of sheer love for their craft. cuckoo bananas behavior if you ask me 🫠

I was legit so close to commenting that maybe they should try shipping two characters with <10 fics, with 0 fics, try liking a rare pair, try hyperfocusing on a character or niche type of fandom with a tiny but lovely circle of fans, and stop treating fan works and fic as Content TM that they deserve to have handed to them that caters to exactly what they want for free and maybe they’ll calm down lmao

like y’all aren’t cool you’re just being mean. we fundamentally approach fic in wildly different ways and honestly the way you do sounds exhausting. literally could not be me, I’m to busy finding joy in shared love for characters and not flipping the table in a rage because there’s one (1) element of the fic that isn’t specifically catered to me, maybe try that and you’ll feel better, hmm?

and yeah I’m aware that last sentence is me being condescending towards them, but frankly it’s warranted when so many people are being that mean and haughty for no reason lmao but truly those takes were horrific. fellow fic writers and even fellow fic readers I interact with, am mutuals with, authors whose works I read, readers who comment and interact with my works, fans of niche fandom subsets that run in the same circles as me— I hope you know this is so wildly not how I approach fics, I love just finding fics for my characters and forming these lil communities where we share our interests and love for them and hype each other up. I love what we have in these fandom niches and I hope you know I would never dream of being so mean and condescending towards y’all. fic writers and readers and fan communities are so special and I cherish it even if clearly there’s people in the notes on that other post who don’t know how to do that lmao. I love your unfinished WIPs, I love your fics that may only partially be what I’m looking for, I love when you write characters in a way I wouldn’t expect but shows your love for your particular headcanon, I love the variety and diversity and variance in fic. I love us. genuinely. fic writer moots I am hugging all of you and I frequently reread your works, even the unfinished ones. ♡

#personal #god this turned into a rant but sometimes I’m just shocked by how.. mean and condescending and holier-than-thou some people can be about fic #about works people write FOR FREE because they LOVE a character/ dynamic/ etc so much they can’t NOT let that love pour out into a fic tjat #once again you can READ FOR FREE HELLO #like god. maybe those people need to try not being a condescending bench (to quote Eleanor) and maybe they’ll feel better and be able to ac #tually participate in the wonder and joy and delight that is fan communities and fic communities idk man #I’m convinced some of it is people being spoiled by large fandoms and also not knowing how ao3 works at all #but like. this is not a streaming service this is an ARCHIVE it is a LIBRARY do you know how to use a LIBRARY #hello??? if you don’t like a book you can return it and borrow another???? not scribble in the margins about how you don’t like it??? #like literally w h a t. #unhinged behavior and not in a cute way. #being mean isn’t cute it’s just being mean. condescension won’t magically make your dream fic scenarios appear. sorry (not sorry tho) #anyways. there was no way in hellllll! I was going to reblog that post and bring that whole mess to my blog. so instead. making my own post #(somewhat like people who can’t find fic they want could also just make their own but yknow 🤭💋) #anyways fellow fic writers and readers I interact with and am friends with ily ily and pls know I never think of your works like that in a #million years ok ❤️❣️❤️ I’m sorry some people are Mean I’m so glad the people I know who are fic writers + readers aren’t like that ty ty

[sacklerscumrag]

.

#mini rant so ignore me #but im in such a reading slump and idk why #and this month out of all months???? #when all my fav authors have new releases??? #i hate it here #i just wanna read #anyways if anyone wants to jump in my inbox and talk about whatever book they're currently reading #pls feel free #im about to start 'the wrong pucking guy' (hopefully) soon #then i was gonna start 'a little life' but idk if im mentally stable enough for that one yet sjahuuasdhfuihfg

[aria0fgold]

I've reached a point in my OC making activities that the majority of my OCs are really just Alec and Ray but a lil to the left and I don't know what to do with that cursed information.

#aria rants #cursed or cursed whatever pronunciation it is. its cursed either way #god pls i dont caer bout those two thaaat much *pushes my other ocs to the side that is the most like them* #istg why. why are those two always following me wherever i go (they live in my head) #it isnt that theyre stuck with me. IM stuck with THEM #i was like bored the whole day so i decided to read some manwhas again and develop my new set of ocs #while also just repeatedly telling myself: you all will be fine. it looks like youre just alec and ray reskinned but... BUT #i trust that i can be unhinged enough to completely separate yall from those two fuckers (lovingly but begrudgingly) #and you all can finally be free from a hell of my own making #i say that as i also turn around and look at wtv traits alec and ray has thats subtle enough for me to add to em goddammit #my oc creation process is just me hoping that the stars align well enough for me to think of such an insane scenario #where i can finally dropkick my new ocs at. and they can be their own person separate from a CERTAIN PAIR #that plagues my every waking hour

[loveyouprongs]

are you awake?

prompt: "are you awake yet?" "no." "oh, okay sorry." remus lupin x reader

upcoming content: fluff! pls lmk if u think i missed anything. 1.8k words

authors note: despite any photos used in the header, it’s important that people of all races can identify with my work so please let me know if any of the descriptive language i use is exclusionary, i’m trying my best!

masterlist

you had no idea what time it was, your phone abandoned on the night stand atop remus' book. he had come over in a huff, one hand holding his cellphone, keys, and book all at once, the other holding a warm cup of hot chocolate he had picked up along the way.

"rem, is that you?" you called, fumbling with wrapping a towel around your just washed hair while keeping the other towel tucked under your arms. you weren't expecting to see him today at all, he had, in his own words, a fucking shitload of reading to catch up on and planned on spending the entire weekend holed up in his room.

you understood, having just finished your own finals, so you planned on spending the evening watching movies and finally removing the old nail polish that decorated your toes and repainting them. an easy, uneventful night.

“yeah, it’s me dove,” remus said, bending down to untie his laces, “sorry for just barging in on you like thi- did you just take a shower?”

he snapped his head up and drank you in, your body still damp from the hot water and the ends of the towel wrapped around your chest fell apart against your thigh revealing more of your smooth skin. your face was free of makeup or the tendrils of hair that constantly fell between your eyes that remus always brushed away.

“y’don’t have to do that every time, remus,” you said on your fourth date when his fingertips danced against your forehead once more that evening.

“you have to be able to see, darling, i don’t mind,” he replied as if this was something he was doing as a favor to you and not because he was so desperate to touch you in any way.

you looked beautiful, he thought.

“thank you, baby,” you let out, giggling at the sigh of your boyfriend still bent half over himself, looking up at you as if you would disappear if he wasn’t.

“did i say that out loud?”

“you did.”

“well, it’s true,” he had since walked over to you, setting his phone, keys, book and cup on the table and grasped at your shoulders, stamping a kiss to your forehead. in this moment, he felt all his tension wash away and reveled in the feeling of your warm skin under his and the vanilla scent of your shampoo wafting around him. he didn’t even remember why he was in such an annoyed mood earlier until you asked him how come he came over.

“ugh, i have to move out!” he exclaimed. this is something remus said maybe four times a week, seven if it was really bad. when james left his dishes piled up in the sink for too long, “i have to move out!” remus would say while ranting to you over breakfast the next day. when they went on a trip for a few days and sirius forgot to pack any underwear so he took it upon himself to borrow remus’, you woke up to a text from your boyfriend that simply read “i have to move out.” sent at 2:18 a.m. then “good morning” at 2:19 a.m. and “you better not be awake right now, dovey” at 2:20 a.m.

“what happened this time?”

“was trying to study ‘til those idiots had the bright idea of rolling bottles down the stairs, i mean who even thinks of that?”

you had to bite your lip to keep in your laughter. you had seen that trend all down your social media so you knew exactly where they got the idea from. but your sweet remus who had no profiles whatsoever, -unless you count the facebook page he made when james told him he had to have one at least-

“what do you mean it doesn’t count? you can share photos and talk to people.”

“it’s facebook! only mums use it. i’m making you a BeReal.”

“you’re making me be real?”

“oh, nevermind.”

had no idea and believed this was just another stupid activity his roommates shared brain cell came up with.

“i don’t know, remmy, people are weird,”

“right? anyway, i sat through listening to ‘clunk, clunk, clunk, smash! again, again, again!’ for about fifteen minutes before i had to get out of there so i thought to come here.”

a warmth started growing within your chest and spreading throughout your entire body. he thought to come here, to your place. your lanky, fluffy haired, nerdy boyfriend who you loved so so much thought to come to you. the smile that had spread across your face was so wide you knew remus knew exactly how you were feeling.

“don’t go all moony eyed on me now, sweetness,” he began, “i’m here because i still have a lot of work to do.”

“of course”

“with no distractions, at least for the next few hours,” he was looking down at you with a familiar look in his eye and you couldn’t even bother to feign cluelessness. the image of remus bent over a book, concentrated look on his face and glasses slowly slipping down his nose was irresistible to you and when you two studied together, it caused a lot of assignments to go untouched.

“alright, i’ll leave you be. but i expect some form of compensation for my good behavior.”

“hence the hot chocolate, for you dove,” he handed you the tall paper cup he had brought in with him and you smiled as it was still warm enough to drink.

“oh wow, my boyfriend and a hot chocolate? it’s like my birthday!” you laughed as remus rolled his eyes and started setting himself up at your kitchen table.

“you can’t say that whenever i get you something, you need to have higher expectations for your birthday silly girl, or i really will just get you a drink and that’ll be it.” he said and the last thing he heard was you laughing down the hallway.

hours had passed and your hair was dry, toe nails now a light peachy color, and one and a half movies had been watched. you mainly kept to your room, only coming out to get a drink and set some biscuits out for remus who hadn’t even looked up. you were sure a bomb could off in the building across the street and he wouldn’t notice. he was so concentrated that all you wanted to do was press your fingers to his temples and relieve his pretty face of the wrinkles, surely his eyes were sore as well, but you knew better than to bother him.

it wasn’t until it was dark out that remus had finally slumped against your bedroom door and trudged like a zombie to your bed, face planting right into your lap. his calves were hanging over the edge so you grabbed his face and shuffled yourselves closer to the headboard. remus was laughing, the feel of his lips tickling your stomach, and with that information he only began to blow raspberries on your belly button.

“remus stop i’m serious!” you let out and lifted his head up, your hands pushing his cheeks up causing his lips to reach up into a smile. he looked so soft, and happy, but obviously tired.

“‘m finished with all m’reading, dove,” his speech was slurred, surely from exhaustion.

“i’m very proud of you baby, you’re so hard working.”

he wrapped the comforter around both of you, and flipped onto his side, pressing his back to your front. he must have been really out of it because he never let you be the big spoon.

“but don’t you like being held?”

“i like holding you. besides it just makes more sense that way, i’m much taller.”

“there’s no sense to cuddling!”

“there’s sense to everything!”

“i am hard working! and they don’t care, all they care about is smashing things and making lots of noise. i have to move out.” he grumbled.

you ran your fingers through his hair, letting him mumble on, knowing he’ll soon fall asleep.

“well, you’re always welcome here, my love.”

he sighed and pressed a kiss to your wrist, “i know,” he spoke softly, the two words so full of content he could hardly stand it. he thought every day how lucky he was to have you in his life. a love full of soft kisses and hot chocolates and intertwining under moonlight. “i love you so much.”

“i love you too, now get some sleep.”

the night had come and gone, remus sleeping away in your arms and the sun was shining through your curtains. you slowly lifted your arm off him and felt around for your phone, careful not to disturb him. the screen flashed 10:15 a.m., meaning remus had been sleeping for close to twelve hours now.

it made sense due to how tired he was yesterday, but you had done nothing but relax, so your body was ready to get up and start the day. you answered a few messages telling marlene you’d had to get back to her about if you and remus could make it to brunch in a few hours and sending a rolling eyes emoji to james who sent you a number of videos of bottles rolling down the stairs.

remus shifted, unconsciously flexing his back, and you froze. it wasn’t until he began cracking his knuckles individually that you knew he was awake, you still asked though.

“are you awake yet.”

“no.”

“oh, okay, sorry.”

“mmm.”

two minutes passed, “are you awake now.”

“are my eyes open?”

“no, but you are speaking to me, and this isn’t what you usually say when you sleep talk.”

“i don’t sleep talk!” he let out, craning his neck to look at you perplexedly.

“got you to open your eyes, didn’t i?” you said with a wry smile. his look of confusion morphed into annoyance that you both knew was fake and he fully turned so you were both facing each other now.

“i haven’t slept that good in a long time,” he said lowly, his voice still rough from sleep.

“finals are over now, rem, you can sleep for as long as you want.”

he smiled and tangled your fingers together, opening his mouth to say something back when his stomach rumbled loudly.

“that wasn’t very sexy, was it?”

you giggled and shook your head, finally throwing the covers off yourself.

“nope, but that’s okay, marlene wants us to meet her for brunch in thirty minutes, so we better get a move on, sleepy head.”

remus groaned and reached for his designated dresser from the bed and pulled out whatever shirt and bottoms were on the top of the piles. the two of you got ready in comfortable silence and while you were sitting on the floor, pulling up the zipper on your boots, remus realized that he really could see himself moving in here. always doing his course work at your kitchen table, picking up a hot drink for you at the coffee shop two streets away, not because it was on his way to you, but because it was on his way home.

“ready, baby?” you asked, now standing at full height, holding your hand out to him.

i’m ready to wake up here every morning. “ready,” he said, wrapping his hand around yours.

#remus lupin #remus lupin fluff #remus lupin fic #remus lupin imagine #remus lupin x reader #remus lupin x fem!reader #mauraders #mauraders fandom #remus lupin fanfiction #maurauders era #marauders fanfiction #remus lupin fancast #remus lupin blurb #remus lupin drabble #remus fluff #remus imagine #remus x reader #remus x fem!reader

[jemmo]

oh what it was like to be full of passion and ideas and the drive and energy to fulfill them…

#now I don’t even have the energy to fucking reblog something bc my dead brain can’t think of anything remotely witty or interesting to put #in the tags #which sucks bc like… now is my time I’m free I don’t have anything on I’ve got nothing to do I’m off work #this should be when I do all my fun stuff #but a mixture of exhaustion and being overwhelmed by the freedom and my brain being dead means I’m doing nothing #it just sucks #like I wanna do my things! i wanna knit and write and try new stuff I wanna sew and cross stitch and make stuff I wanna rant and analyse #media and read fics and do the things I love #why am I not doing them???? #why am I just scrolling on tiktok watching random shit I don’t care about in this bubble by myself #why am I wasting my time that I was so desperate to have???? #ugh I rlly hope I get some fucking drive and do shit #i love doing shit let me do shit pls

[welovelouisandbucky]

My two favorite Slytherin boys headcanons bc why not?

T/w: few swear words, my writing, and some out of character stuff because im delusional, little suggestive if you can call it that, and yes aside from that if you find any pls let me know:) also my writing

A/n: hi y'all, I just want to say pls be kind as this is my first time writing for these characters so if there's any mistakes pls overlook them thank you! Also I tried my best to keep this GN so everyone can read and enjoy this and yeah that's it, have great day!!!

S/n: requests are open so feel free to send in ideas, I'll love to write what you guys suggest. Also feel free to ask for more Slytherin or any Harry Potter characters you want headcanons/blurbs about, I'll love to write and add more🤗

Masterlist

Mattheo Riddle

(gifs credits to the rightful owner)

Also this one's long as you can see I got carried away😁

Mattheo who always looks forward to see your face after the end of the day

Mattheo who will fight any one who looks at you funny or talks shits about you

Mattheo who glares at every single person but the seconds he spots you his eyes softens up in millisecond in adoration

Mattheo who holds your books or bag everywhere you guys go, because God forbid if his princess/prince ever has to worry about those things when he's there to do them for you

Mattheo who waits after you when the class is over so he can walk you to other class while he pulls you as closer to him as possible

Mattheo who searches for you before every Quidditch game so he can have his good luck charm kiss from you

Mattheo who pretends to hate and act tough when you baby him while secretly melting into a puddle inside every time you call him sweet names. ( He absolutely loses his shit when you call him baby but shush it's a secret 😌)

Mattheo who has probably drawn you only few hundreds of times in his super, super duper, very classified sketchbook that no one knows of.

Mattheo who always encourages you to do things you want to do but are too scared to actually do it.

Mattheo who always supports your decisions, even if they are stupid

Mattheo who appropriates your little hobbies and interests even if they are weird, he just wants to you to feel safe and heard around him

Mattheo who's always there for you whenever you need him, always there to hold you close on bad days because he knows how it feels when you are at your worst and there's no one to comfort you (thankfully he doesn't have to worry about being alone now that you are here as well as his friends)

Mattheo who struggles with expressing his emotions and feelings but still tries his hardest to show them to you because he wants you to know how much you mean to him.

Mattheo who's not that good at comforting but still pulls you to him because he can't stand seeing you cry and not do anything about it.

Mattheo who willingly listens to you rant about everything and anything because he loves hearing your voice (even if half of the things you said are going above his head but hey at least he's trying! ☺️)

Mattheo who hates not knowing what's happening around him because it makes him feel helpless and he hates feeling weak. That's why he always, and I mean always knows what's going on everywhere

Mattheo who's touch starved (bc yk all that being dark Lord's son and growing up with death eaters and all) and craves your touch. He's always in any way touching you, whether holding hands, or a hand on your thigh or waist just any kind of physical touch because he wants to be as close to you as possible.

Mattheo who loves loves cuddles, doesn't matter who's spooning who as long as you guys are in each other's arms.

Mattheo who loves you so much that it physically hurts him, and there's nothing he wouldn't do you

Mattheo who will always protect you no matter what

~~~

Theodore Nott

Theo who loves to tease you throughout the whole day just so he can see you all worked up for him

Theo who looks forward to your quick comebacks every time he comments on something he knows he will get reaction out of you and absolutely loses his shit when you roast the shit out of him for it

Theo who calls you sweet endearments in Italian because he loves to see your confused smile, contemplating whether he roasted you or called you something sweet in foreign language

Theo who keeps you company while you finish your homework in library

Theo who loves spending time with you on Astronomy tower (he just in general loves spending time with you but astronomy tower is more special to him) while you are snuggled up against his side as you guys look at stars.

Theo who will read with you, doesn't matter what kind of books you guys are reading as long as both of you are together.

Theo who prefers reading classic novels but will happily read cheesy rom-com books with you because you said so (secretly he enjoys them too but hush🙈)

Theo who actually enjoys reading poetry, and sometimes when you guys are alone he'll read few to you

Theo who's always there to comfort you whenever you have problems with your family because he knows how it feels.

Theo who's always there to stand up for you in any situation

Theo who starts to smoke less around you if it bothers you, but if you smoke too then both of you guys will smoke together at the Astronomy tower

Theo who loves silence and doesn't enjoy talking much but is always ready to listen to you talk for hours, you are the only person he can talk and listen to for eternity without ever getting sick of it.

Theo who loves when you wear his clothes

Theo who said I love you first time when he saw you curse someone out because they said some shit about him, he doesn't really care whatever shit they were saying but seeing you stand up for him made him feel emotions he never felt before.

Theo who just absolutely loves you and wants to spend entirety of his life with you

Thank you so much for reading, likes and comments are very much appreciated. As well as positive criticism, pls don't hate this is a safe place for everyone!! Bye bye have great day!!!

~~~~

Enzo's headcanon!

#hufflepuff x slytherin #slytherin boys #slytherin x hufflepuff #slytherin #hufflepuff #ravenclaw #gryffindor #theodore nott x reader #theodore nott #mattheo riddle x reader #mattheo riddle #lorenzo berkshire #lorenzo berkshire x reader #x reader #x you #slytherin boys x reader #fluff #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter #harry potter headcanon #headcanon #slytherin boys headcanons #gender neutral reader #slytherin boys x gn!reader #draco malfoy x reader #blaise zabini #draco malfoy #incorrect hp quotes #hp x reader #hp headcanon

[kazutora-kurokawa]

♡ About Me ♡

♡Tora's Angel♡♡Izana's Sidepiece♡♡Taiju's Princess♡

♡ She/her, black, 18, dms open (feel free to message me random things), wanna be moots? just ask me!, reader & writer who's obsessed with fictional characters

♡ You can call me Kaz or any other pet names you'd like

♡ Sorry if any text is hard to see, I only write on dark mode on my phone

♡ My request button is usually there, but requests will temporarily close sometimes because I'm busy but I'll keep my page updated with whether they're closed or not

♡ DON'T COME IN MY DMS REQUESTING STUFF, I'M NOT A REQUEST MACHINE!

♡ I write fluff sometimes but this is still a NSFW blog, minors dni (pls have age in bio before bouncing around my blog, I will block your ass)

♡ I write mainly for jjk, tokrev, and aot but I'll write for another fandom if you have suggestions.

♡ Read the rules before requesting pls ⤵️

♡ Request rules:

I'll write smut (check if a kink or part of your request is okay with me before requesting), fluff, and angst

I WON'T write smut about noncon, incest or stepcest, minors, animals, or any weird shit.

I'll write for any character in the fandoms I write for and any that you suggest if I know the character well enough.

I only write for fem and gender neutral reader so pls specify which one you want or I'll pick for you lol

Don't be rude or bossy when making a request, you don't gotta kiss my ass but have some decency about it pls

♡ Taglist + Masterlist ♡

*Updated Everytime I Post*

@arlerts-angel @i-literally-cant-with-this @trevengersprincess @giugiette @katkusuo @happy-trenchcoated-impala @drunkcheesecake @darkstarlight82 @reiners-milkbiddies @manji-hoe

Shoot me a message or an ask if you want to be included on my taglist

Headcanons

Toman

Tenjiku

Bonten

Black Dragons

Valhalla

Valhalla!Hanma x Rival Gang Member!Reader (NSFW)

Multiple Characters *stuff with characters that belong to different gangs*

Full Fics/Mini Fics

Multiple Characters

Me U & Hennessy (NSFW)

It Wasn't Me! (SFW)

TokRev x Reader: Risky Sex (NSFW)

Beat Me To It: Mitsuya Finds Out Hakkai Lost His V-card (SFW+suggestive)

Good Cop, Bad Cop: Mikey x Sensitive!Reader x Takemichi (NSFW)

HanKisa x Reader: On Camera (NSFW)

TakeMikey x Reader (SFW)

HanKisa x Reader: Ferris Wheel Fuck (SFW->NSFW)

Needy!TokRev x Coworker!Reader (NSFW)

Kazutora

Post Prison!Kazutora (NSFW)

Kazutora x Reader: Thought We Was Tied (SFW+angst)

Mikey

Cheater!Bonten Mikey (NSFW)

Masturfesting w/ Mikey (NSFW)

Draken

Mechanic!Draken x Cheater!Reader (NSFW)

Sanzu

Savior!Bonten!Sanzu (SFW)

Bonten!Sanzu x Reader: Waking Up To You (SFW+suggestive)

Kisaki

Soft!Kisaki x Motormouth!Reader (SFW)

Takemichi

Dom!Takemichi x Brat!Reader (NSFW)

Taiju

Submissive!Taiju (NSFW)

Protective!Taiju x Naive!Bratty!Reader (SFW->NSFW->SFW)

Izana

Izana x Gang Member's Sister!Reader (SFW)

Baji

Simon Says, Fuck Me (NSFW)

Rockstar!Baji Kissing Fan!Reader (SFW+suggestive)

Cheater!Baji x Reader (SFW+angst)

Hanma

Sub!Hanma x Reader: Cumming From Degradation (NSFW)

Random Stuff *things that aren't necessarily full headcanons or full fics*

Take me Out (SFW)

Boobs or Butt? (SFW)

Mommy Kink Draken? (NSFW)

Hanma x Chubby!Reader (SFW)

Pegging Hanma? (NSFW)

Hanma grabbing your waist (SFW)

Hanma Rant (NSFW)

Ran Rant (NSFW)

Kazutora Thirst (NSFW)

Kazutora Thirst 2 (NSFW)

Hanma is an ass man (NSFW)

TokRev x Hispanic!Reader (SFW+NSFW)

Headcanons

Armin

Armin Relationship Headcanons (SFW+NSFW)

Eren

Toxic!Dom!Eren Headcanons (SFW+NSFW)

Multiple Characters

When their partner apologizes for talking too much (SFW)

Headcanons

Choso

Virgin!Choso Headcanons (NSFW)

Multiple Characters

JJK Men When They Catch You Masturbating (NSFW)

JJK x Clingy!Bimbo!Reader (SFW+slight NSFW)

Full Fics/Short Fics

Nanami

Nanami Going Down On You (NSFW)

*Random Drabbles are usually multi-fandom/have multiple characters named

Random Thoughts 1 (NSFW)

Random Thoughts 2 (NSFW)

Random Thoughts 3 (NSFW)

Random Thoughts 4 (NSFW)

🎴 All characters I write about are aged 18+ or have their timeskip! versions used | ask before translating my work (I'll only allow translations on tumblr and wattpad)

#masterlist #tokyo revengers headcanons #aot x reader #aot headcanons #tokyo revengers x reader #x reader #taglist #jjk headcanons #jjk x reader

[m00mis]

i just read your svt shoelace scenario and it's so cute! idk if you're taking requests but if you are can you please do a "svt reacting to their s/o calling them bro" scenario? if you're not feel free to ignore!

thankyou !! i am totally taking requests pls feel free to ask :)

{ also i hope i interpreted your request properly ㅠㅠ im overthinking as usual }

svt reacting to their s/o calling them bro

cheol - he would be shocked and so offended like "bro??? me?? what?? i'm not your bro what are you talking about?? tchh bro? seriously? what happened to 'babe'? 'baby'? 'cheollie'? 'the love of my life'?" goes on a whiney rant about how he is not your bro, he is your baby and won't drop it for two weeks and only responds to you with "ok bro" so you know how it feels

jeonghan - he didn't realise what you said and would reply as if nothing had happened. that is not in your usual vocabulary so it went straight through him but in the middle of the night he would wake up in a cold sweat muttering "bro.. she called me bro?" and would text you right then at 3am to never call him bro again. creepy asf.

joshua - would suddenly look up at you with those big eyes and confused smile ("huh?") which made you super embarrassed because why is he looking at you like you have committed terrible crimes and now you are running away and oh god he's chasing after you

jun - you were eating together and he would burst into laughter but when he sees you're not laughing he slowly realises that this was serious business and he just points to himself with a mouth full of food saying "me? i'm your bro?"

hoshi - oh great what have you done. now he only calls you bro. "hey my bro ! <⁠(⁠￣⁠︶⁠￣⁠)⁠>". yep. the rest of the members think you two have somehow regressed back to the friendzone with hoshi being happier than before??

wonwoo - is shocked and sweetly asks why you said bro, but you can't explain and he has the biggest grin on his face, chuckling because it was so absurd and he can't get over it. it's so funny to him that he tells all the members and he never forgets it. one of his fondest memories of you

woozi - the atmosphere is so tense after it slipped out of your mouth but suddenly he bursts out laughing and folds in half "you actually... actually just called me bro..!? i can't... can't believe it PSHAHAAA" between wheezes . funniest thing to him

dk - would hit him like a ton of bricks "is that what i am to you? a bro?" and is so upset you're basically begging on your knees for him to forgive you but he can't even hear anything you're saying because he's trying to figure out what he did wrong in your relationship for you to call him bro so nonchalantly .. heart brocken fr 💔

mingyu - you can tell it's echoing around his mind as he's off staring into space in absolute disbelief.. you start laughing at his dumbfounded expression so he starts smiling in confusion, "what? what was that? why did you say that? tell me!" and you have collapsed because his reaction is so funny. he's all whiney and rolling around on the sofa because he is so hurt

minghao - i think he would somehow turn it into a psychological thing and ask why you think of him as your brother and if you had any good brotherly figures growing up to try to figure out what is going on for you to call him bro. basically he would use it as an excuse to understand you more cuz he lovs u

seungkwan - would drop everything to judge you with that look in his eyes and the pressure would be so intense that you immediately apologise. he is never letting this go. occasionally calls you bro just to embarrass you because he loves seeing you all worked up

vernon - "sup bro". "sup" . thats it. sorry but he would be so unbothered. starts dapping you up every time he sees you followed by a lil kiss.

dino - half-jokingly goes "was that a mistake? im letting you off this time. watch your back" and does the 'i'm watching you' finger eye point thingy(?) while backing out of the room and when he's out of view he runs to the bathroom to let out his laughter because he can't believe how weirdly cute you were. talks to himself in the mirror about it.

#svt imagines #svt scenarios #seventeen imagines #seventeen scenariios #svt fluff #svt reactions #seventeen reactions #seventeen ot13 #scoups #jeonghan #joshua #jun #hoshi #wonwoo #woozi #dk #mingyu #the8 #seungkwan #vernon #dino

[katiesbowlcut]

hiii i saw u needed requests to blurbs/ headcanons so here i am 🤭 could u write julien x reader where julien has a crush on a random youtuber (that like talks about books and stuff) and phoebe and lucy makes fun of julien bc she wasn’t this type of person before and then one day this bookworm youtuber says that she’s going to a boygenius show and julien tries everything to meet reader?

pls and thank u

i hope this isn’t too long

julien baker x yt!crush ღ

format: blurb

warnings: none!

a/n: i literally fell in love with this the second i saw it omg it’s so cute<3 been working on some anxiety comfort ideas but can’t choose a member of muna or boygenius to do first so if there’s one anyone would like to be first please do request it!! thank you so much for all the likes on my stuff it means the world 💞

okay so, the boys are on tour but tonight is a very special night for them becauseeeee… they have a night off!! they go out, have some nice dinner then decide to just chill in the tour bus for the rest of the night because they don’t need to wake up extra early to go to their next tour destination

so julien is in her lil bunk (pls i can just imagine how snuggled up she is) and she is so beyond bored

so what do you do when you’re bored? you browse tiktok until you fry your brain!!

she’s scrolling on her fyp not really bothering to actually watch through any of the tiktoks she's starting, that is until she sees…you

she mutters a barely audible “woah”

within a minute she’s followed you and is now stalking your whole account

cut to around 20 minutes later and she’s holding her phone sideways (pretty close to her face but not that close that she can’t see) watching one of your youtube videos.

this spiral continues until she is that exhausted she physically can’t keep her eyes open anymore

for the next few weeks this is her new routine: getting ready for shows watching your videos, buying your favourite books online and reading them on her phone when she gets the chance. she never falls asleep without watching at least one of your videos & a few tiktoks

one time she’s watching your newest video after having to wait a whole excruciatingly long day, she’s got headphones in, she’s never been so relaxed until…

you say you HATE people who read books online

“just buy the real book? why can’t people put down their screens anymore” and you’re clearly not being serious as you laugh and continue to joke about how all millennials are just taller ipad kids

but julien? it is no joke to her. in an instant she has removed her online books and has planned to go to the nearest bookstore when she’s next free and buy them all ‘for real’

i feel like the moment phoebe and lucy find out is SO FUNNY like i can picture them all sat together before a show, lucy just talking about the most recent book she’s been reading when julien chimes in with “oh yeah i just finished reading that, so good”

silence fills the entire room… phoebe and lucy share a look of horror

“where’s julien and what have you done with her??” phoebe would joke absolutely cackling with lucy about it

this is where the ‘bullying’ starts and never ends!

somehow they manage to convince julien to give them your name so now all of boygenius + katie gavin follow you on tiktok AND instagram

after seeing this you obviously have to make a tiktok about it. your favourite band members of all time just followed you back! you continue to rant and rave about it in your tiktok, also choosing to mention that you are seeing boygenius the following week and how crazyyy it is that they have followed you for a reason unbeknownst to you

this causes julien to go into panic mode. she was going to be performing to you NEXT WEEK

jump forward a week to the show, it’s going great! julien spent the whole day checking your instagram to see where you were at and when you’d be arriving. there’s barely and service in the venue, so unfortunately, her last update was a photo of you in the queue (she definitely took a screenshot because you look amazing)

so, they’re around 5 songs into the show, then she spots you. you’re standing only one row back from the barrier. julien can’t help but stare because you look beautiful

phoebe and lucy take notice of this but play it off cool. they share a menacing look before phoebe leans into the mic and says, “so, anyone got a crush right now?”

julien swears she nearly puked the second she heard that.

the conversation drags on for what feels like hours to julien when in reality it was only really around 5 minutes, majority of it being taken up by the crowd screaming in response to their several questions about crushes

it goes quiet for a second

“jb has a crush… she’s actually here tonight” the crowd starts SCREAMINGGG. people literally praying it’s them (so real)

julien has now sat on the floor of the stage with her face completely buried in her knees, lucy is still standing in front of her microphone dying with laughter over how embarrassed julien is getting.

little did she know though, it was about to get so much worse!!

lucy had dmed you the night before and basically just told you that julien had like changed her whole personality because of her crush on you. she also very sneakily organised for you to come backstage after the show and meet for the first time ever!

PLEASEEE imagine LUCY DACUS messaging you randomly and telling you that JULIEN MF BAKER HAS A CRUSH ON YOU.

lil time skip to that but imagine julien stood there fiddling with her fingers while she waits for you because she’s so nervous

you asking her the best books she’s read because of you<33

i can perfectly picture lucy and phoebe just stood there like ‘😁’ before having an “oh shit” moment and realising they’re intruding LMAO

your first date is to your favourite bookstore btw

I LOVE SOFT MASCS. (i am one)

a/n: this is my first blurb ever 😮 i’m so sorry i didn’t see this until now! hope you liked it :) again please feel free to send any other requests you have i love munagenius 🫶

#julien baker #julien baker x reader #boygenius #boygenius x reader #live laugh love julien baker #I LOVE HER SO MUCHHHH #not proofread

[sushiwriterhere]

open note

summary: your shoulders won't stop aching and Nanami sits across from you at the cafe | 3.1k warnings: nanami x reader 18+, reader is (lightly) cursed, PiV (unprotected), nanami follows reader around sorta (for protection purposes), oral (f receiving) notes: this is my first jjk fic, pls let me know what u think <3 (to all my tg fans.. hope u can forgive me). not sure who to tag but i hope if u read u enjoy!

It’s late. The letters on the screen blur as you try to keep reading–you’ve lost track of how long you’ve been sitting here, trying to slog through your latest assigned reading. It’s not usually like this for you, like pulling teeth or climbing up ten flights of stairs, usually law school feels like a blessing. 

Everyone warned you about competitive peers and cutthroat curves, but instead you found a community of people who shared your passion for the law and didn’t find it odd that you could launch into a twenty-minute rant about the poorly designed logic of originalism at any moment. It was comforting to feel like you’d found your place in the world, to feel like you’d found your path. Was, being the operative word here. 

Lately everything felt heavy, felt, off balance. Some days, you stayed in bed until you were sure you would miss the bus to your lecture hall, only to make it by some grace of god, half disheveled and not sure you’d brought everything you needed. Some days, your apartment was too quiet, the one-bedroom you’d always longed for feeling more suffocating than the freeing space you’d needed it to be. You’d smile at your peers but gently reject invites for drinks or group study at the law library, citing your internship or a family call, but really, you just couldn’t bring yourself to spend more time than you already were in other peoples’ presence. 

Your only bright spot is Nanami. Every week, without fail, at least three times a week, you find yourself sitting across from him at the cafe down the street from your apartment complex. It’s an odd, unspoken arrangement. The cafe had been crowded one Thursday morning and he’d wordlessly stood behind the chair across from you before sitting after you’d nodded once. He always orders the same thing, a hot Americano–though he’s taken to sliding a muffin across to you ever so often. 

Sometimes you think that when he looks at you, he’s the only person who can really see you. Other times it feels like he’s almost looking right past you, like he’s trying to make out the face of someone far over your shoulder.

Even so, it is a tender set of interactions that buoys you throughout the week, until you find yourself sitting in front of Nanami at a quiet restaurant. Whatever you’ve ordered at random is savory and tender, and pairs beautifully with the wine he chose. It’s also exactly what you would’ve picked. 

The candlelight illuminates his face in a way that throws his features into stark relief, masculine, chiseled, and so beautiful. He’s saying something, and you wish you could put your hand on his chest to feel the rumble of the baritone you know is there. You think it might ground you in a way you haven’t felt in a while. You feel like you’re watching the entire interaction outside yourself. 

Then he’s paying the bill and pulling out your chair, taking you by the hand as he walks you to the coat check. You let him slip your jacket over your bare shoulders, missing the way the way he stiffens when his fingers brush your bare skin. Everything feels so far away then, and you almost stumble out the door. 

You move your lips to form words, to thank him for the meal, the company, the kindness, but you can’t. The world is foggy and somewhere between your shoulder blades is a deep, aching sort of pain. 

I should see a chiropractor, you think to yourself, wondering if all your time laying on your side looking out your apartment windows has finally caught up to you. 

Standing in front of you, Nanami considers you. But he’s not looking at you, instead he’s looking at the curse curled across your shoulders. It’s small, but that doesn’t matter–he sees the way it pulses with a dense cursed energy. If he strains his senses, he can pick up on its scent, the almost acrid stench. 

It’s been feeding on you for a while now–he first spotted you from across the crowded cafe you both frequent–a small thing at first. He hadn’t wanted to startle you by trying to exorcize it in the middle of that crowded room. Instead, he sat across from you, made friends, even? 

Despite the curse, he enjoyed your presence. You had gentle features, smelled nice, and your brow furrowed whenever you were thinking particularly hard about something until you would reach up to smooth a few fingers over your brow as if push the wrinkle away. The feelings were on accident, really. He’d just wanted to keep an eye on you, make sure the curse wasn’t giving you too much trouble. 

After that he’d learned too much about you in his effort to ‘keep you safe’–

(“Nanami, where are you off to at this hour?” Nanami ignored the other man as he pulled on his jacket. 

He’d spent a few minutes too many indulging in a hot cup of coffee, now he was going to be late if he didn’t hurry. You always got off the bus at this hour, and the curse was starting to really settle in. He didn’t like the faraway look you had in your eyes as you walked; he wasn’t sure you’d notice someone following you or coming up behind you. You hadn’t noticed him yet.

Gojo really couldn’t help himself, he was too nosy for his own good. Which was why Nanami couldn’t tell him, rather, refused to tell him about you. But he was running out of excuses and Gojo was getting particularly good at delegating, so he was spending more time than ever hanging around looking for someone to bother. 

“Lock the door behind me.” Was all he said in response, cutting off the other sorcerer’s garbled protests.)

Now, standing across from you, he sees a beautiful woman being drained of her life as a filthy curse digs its talons into you. 

Against his better judgment, Nanami steps forward towards you. In the restaurant, the candle light lit your face from below. Here, the street lights are above, emphasizing the darkness under your eyes. You haven’t been sleeping. 

Your eyes are glossed over when you look up at him, but you place your hands on his chest, his dress shirt dimpling under your fingertips. Rising on your toes, your hands smooth over his shoulders. Something curls pleasantly in his chest at the way your eyes widen when your hands find his muscles. 

His hands find their way to your hips, slipping underneath the coat that you didn’t bother to button. 

The curse thrashes angrily the closer Nanami gets. He ignores it. He can smell the perfume you put on you dotted on your wrists, the insides of your elbows, and it makes something twist in his gut. It’s a startling realization to understand that you want someone’s smell on your sheets for the rest of your life. 

You watch as Nanami turns his head, nose dragging across the sensitive inner side of your forearm to dot a kiss in the crook of your elbow. It sends a shiver down your spine at the same time as the pain intensifies in your back. Your knees buckle as he catches you. 

Nanami carries you home. He picked a place close to you just in case he needed to get you alone (not like that) to rid you of the curse. You’re lucid enough to push your purse into his chest so he can fish the keys out and unlock the front door. 

The inside of your apartment is as much the one-bedroom of a law student as he’d imagined it. There’s a desk by the window with textbooks stacked on one side, and one open in the middle. Highlighters of every color are arranged neatly next to it, a stack of cutesy sticky notes tying everything together. 

“Can you stand?” His voice rumbles in his chest next to your ear, and for a few moments you’re free of pain and that ache, like some sort of noise therapy effect. 

You let him stand you upright until, in a flash, your breath is stolen from you. 

What did he just do to me? Who did I let into my house? You think in a moment of panic until you realize your back doesn’t hurt anymore. 

Nanami’s staring at you, a tender look in his eyes. One of his large, warm, hands is gripping your shoulder over your coat, and it grounds you. 

In a moment, your lips are on his. Maybe it’s the way he carried you back to your apartment, maybe’s it’s the way he’s been sitting across from you for three months now, steadily buying you sweets and paying for your coffees and teas. Maybe it’s the fact that he’s so tall, and so broad, and he looks at you like you hung the fucking moon. 

You hang on to the lapels of his coat as his mouth works furiously against yours. Weaving one hand into his hair, you clutch with the other at his shoulders for dear life as he pulls you into him. He’s got one hand cupping your face, the other around your waist. 

Suddenly you feel so full of life and you want him, desperately. You go to throw off your coat but he pulls back for just a moment. 

“Are you sure?” The mere tone of his voice does something indescribable to you, and you nod furiously as you tear off the garment. 

He shoulders off his coat as well and toes out of his dress shoes as he walks you backwards into the nearest wall. You groan in appreciation as he noses down your jawline, behind your ear, to the dip at the base of your neck. 

A shiver tears down your back as you realize he’s smelling you, inhaling the perfume you put on earlier. You pant as he just holds you there, taking you in. The tip of his nose is slightly too cold in contrast with the warm softness of his lips that follow. 

“Nanami,” you try, gripping at his shoulders for dear life as he goes to kneel before you. You want his lips on yours, want to taste the wine you both drank earlier from his mouth. 

“Patience,” He murmurs as he takes one of your legs over his broad, broad, shoulders and you keen, high, reedy, in the back of your throat at the way his teeth scrape at your inner thigh. 

You feel more alive than you have in six months and he wants you to wait? With everything in you you want him to hurry and fuck you, to feel the weight of him in you and around you in your bed, to have him tangled in your sheets. And yet he takes his time.

Nanami is a patient man. He knows what it is to bide your time for the good things–he used to be a salaryman after all. He has waited for this moment. The part of him that sympathizes with what you must be feeling right now, the surge of energy after the months of being drained like a maple tree. But though ever patient, Nanami knows what he wants. 

What he wants is exactly this–tugging your damp panties to the side with a crook of his fingers, tilting his head up and forward to lick up your center and to taste you. What he wants is to keep hearing the sounds you’re making, the sighs and staccato’d ah-ah-ah’s you can’t hold back as he sucks insistently on your clit. What he wants is to keep feeling the way you hug his two fingers, hot, and wet, and so tight and fluttering. 

You tremble against the way he leans against you, keeps you up against the wall. You’ve had people go down on you in your time, you’re in your late 20s not dead. But none of them have done this–have eaten you out like it’s for them, and not you. 

Nanami stays where he is til your hands twist painfully in his hair, til you’re shaking with overstimulation after cumming so hard you think you might’ve blacked out for just a moment. 

Your chest rises and falls quickly, yet in the most tantalizing way, as your nipples strain against the satin fabric stretched over your chest. Your eyes are wild and your cheeks are flushed as he leans in to kiss you ever so gently, only bothering to wipe his chin with the sleeve of his dress shirt so it doesn’t drip onto his chest. 

He has to wear that home tomorrow, you think to yourself, and something curls almost painfully in your chest from arousal. 

One by one, you open the buttons of his shirt as he kisses you intently. He runs his tongue along your teeth as you tug the bottom of it out of his slacks and his fingers tighten on your waist as you unbutton his pants and stick your hand in his briefs. God. He’s heavy and thick and hot in your hand, and you think you can feel his pulse from the way he throbs in your grip. 

He grunts softly when you slide down his length only to tighten your grip and twist your wrist. There’s not much room between the two of you, not with the way he’s pressed up against you, but you make an effort anyways. 

“Take me to bed, Nanami.”

So he does. He pulls himself away from your reach with a final peck, before grabbing your thighs and picking you up. It’s a certain sort of primal attraction you feel at the effortless way he carries your weight and sets you down ever so gently on your sheets. At this angle, you have the perfect view. 

His shirt, untucked and unbuttoned reveals a trim waist and a broad, muscular chest. The one you’d felt earlier. His slacks are tented and there’s a small damp patch just to the left of the middle seam. He flexes his hands once before kneeling before you once again. Propping yourself up on your elbows, you watch as he slides your heels off one by one, ever so gently. 

You’d forgotten you were wearing them. 

As he shrugs his shirt off, you twist yourself around so you’re sitting on your heels, so you can pull your dress up and over your shoulders. His pants are halfway down his thighs when you reemerge and then you two are frozen in a momentary staring contest.

Nanami doesn’t think he’s gawking per se, but his gaze isn’t innocent by any means. Your satin dress is pooling off one arm, no longer framing your figure just so. Your nipples are hard and he thinks your tits might be the perfect size to fit in his palms (he’ll have to find out). Your panties are lace trimmed, and although Nanami of ten years ago might’ve rolled his eyes (“I’m going to take them off anyway.”), the man before you swallows dryly. The eroticism of watching you undress cannot be overstated. 

He finishes pulling off his slacks to give himself a distraction. You’re so beautiful it makes his chest ache, especially now that you’re not weighed down by grief and anger and sadness. 

You’ve made your way to the edge of the mattress by the time he stands to his full height again. Your hands are warm and soft against his skin as you explore the planes of his chest, scratching softly at the waistband of his briefs. You press a kiss to his sternum and something terrible blooms right underneath his skin. 

He leans down to press you into the bed so he doesn’t have to dwell on that for too long. Below him you’re soft and warm and so responsive. You sigh into his mouth when he drags a fingertip over your nipples, when he rocks his hips into yours. 

Eventually he rids himself of his briefs, and you wiggle out of your panties, an excited look gracing your features. He pretends it doesn’t affect him the way it does. 

When he finally sinks into you, he thinks he can’t breathe. It’s not some overwrought metaphor about being inside you it’s about being with you. You’re here with him, after he took you to dinner, carried you home, got rid of the curse. It’s you who’s moaning his name, scraping your nails across his shoulders and back. 

You’re tilting your hips up into his, gasping in pleasure, whispering filthy sweet nothings– “Been thinking about this since I first saw you–” “Feels so good, Nanami, you feel so good–” “Only want you like this–”

He finishes with a punched out groan and he feels the way you clench around him at the sensation. A hand slips between you two and he finds your clit again with his fingers, determined to get you off again. It’s only fair. 

Your face contorts in pleasure as you finish again, and the way you bear down on him makes his head spin. He holds himself above you as you both come down, resting his forehead against yours and trying to catch his breath–certainly not from physical exertion. 

When he pulls out, when he goes to stand, to find something to clean you up, make you comfortable for sleep, you catch him by the wrist. 

“Stay.” Is all you say, smiling softly at him. It’s so much closer to how Nanami imagined you’d looked before the curse, without its weight on your shoulders that he thinks he might be sick. 

And stay he does. He cleans you up tenderly then coaxes you into the bathroom so you can wash your face and brush your teeth. He follows your instructions dutifully on where to find a clean pair of sheets and hangs your dress up back inside the first empty garment bag he spots inside your closet. 

Nanami lets you press a toothbrush into his palm, lets you peck his lips with your lip mask on, and push him toward the bathroom with a smile. He made the bed. Your dress is hanging in the closet. 

It’s painfully domestic and nurturing in a way you maybe didn’t expect from someone who bed you on the first date. But then again, you’d wanted him to. (The underwear, the perfume–men.)

When you finally watch him climb into bed next to you, you’re more than satisfied by the way he tugs you into his arms and just holds you. There’s no pretense, no motive, nothing other than wanting to hold you and feel your skin on his. You feel lighter than you have in months.

#nanami kento #nanami x reader #jjk nanami #kento nanami #jujutsu kaisen #jujustsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kento #nanami x you #nanami kento x reader #nanami kento x you #nanami #kento #jujutsu kaisen nanami #nanami jjk

[dreamsofminnie]

“Ethereal Paintings”

*:･ﾟ✧Scaramouche X Fm!Reader-> Social media au

“Bastards who want to learn art should respect it’s origin”

Main Synopsis-> When you were required to help the new transfer student the history of art from the two weeks he missed. He didn’t know you were the one artist he was inspired by. You grow fond of each other but stay at a flirting stage. But finding out that he’s a dreaded a.i user; your mortal art enemy; everything in your relationship is obliterated. Will he be able to reconcile and steal your he-art♡ once again?

Genre-> College art students, strangers to crushes to enemies to lovers, college setting, crack and slight angst, gremlin scara, soft scara

Warnings-> Swearing, alcohol, obsessive hate, kms/kys jokes, rants, suggestive(will show warning), more to be added. . .

Notes-> This all came to me when I was raging over an A.I. art article then brain went on from there. [REDACTED] = A.I. Art. Scara smau’s are always enemies to lovers💔 but they are still fun to read. This is my first Smau!! Pls be nice eueue.

Status-> mind is blank in agnst

The 5 pillars of deprivation{Y/N’s} || Accounts

Death’s door is close {Scara’s} || Accounts

{☂️/☔️=Written}

I SKETCHING. . . {S-trangers}

01~ Copyright is a thing | 02~ Transfer students and a task☂️

03~ Denied | 04~ Caffeine overdose

05~ Extra sausy | 06~ Inconspicuous(not) ☂️

07~ Convenience ☂️

08~ Closet Uno torture method | 08.5~ Gremlin beauty standard

09~ Fire and ice do(n’t) go together | 10~ Drunken haze party ☂️

II PAINTING. . . {P-assion}

11~ Hang(out)over | 12~ Study dater | 13~ Free art exhibit

14~ Be my muse co-artist☂️ | 15~ She’s what?!who?!

16~ Shy scarameow | 17~ Touch grass

18~ Inazuman reunion☂️ | 19~ Let me ask you one thing…

19.5~ Given name | 20~ Corkscrew board of emotions☔️

III RENDERING. . . {R~esentment)

21~ Stage one denial☔️ | 22~ Feels like shit

23~ Suffocating in quicksand | 24~ Pressure me

25~ Anxiety attack | 26~ Do not perceive my impending doom☔️

27~ Sickness in health | 28~ Beauty in recollection

29~ Running away is easy | 30~ It’s the leaving that’s hard

IV PRESENTING. . . {P-artners}

31~ Dandelions | 32~ tba. . .

33~ tba. . . | 34~ tba. . .

35~ tba. . . . .

Art show finale*:･ﾟ✧

Taglist-> Ask to be added!! {Open!!} 41/50(?)

@akagism2 @pokidot @feiherp @kyouzki @rmiyuki @infe-risk0 @sakurapeach @bluebelony @kichiyoshi @mikctp @kur44pika @cupids-chamber @crucnhice @neigesprincess @scaramoo @gojoandelsalovechilde @childeslegstrap @sakiimeo @d4y-dr3am3r @m3gitsune @scarletttcroww @sashiette @beriiov @rizakari @xiaossocksniffer @lxry-chxn @bryai003 @eunchaeluvr @goj0h @the-ghost-0f-t0m0 @sketcheeee @ozzierenato @ohmyfinggod @kiyomi-hoku @hutaosbootao @ynverse @featuredtofu @reinoodle @angeilix @yxcade @keizuk

#astronetwrk #genshin impact #genshin smau #social media au #scaramouche x reader #scara x reader #scara smau #scaramouche #genshin x y/n #text fic #genshin screenshots #scara social media au #genshin impact smau #scara x y/n #scara x you #scaramouche x y/n #scaramouche x you #masterlist*:･ﾟ✧

[softxsuki]

Urgent request! Before I start I just want to say that if you are overwhelmed with asks or are uncomfortable with this request please feel free to ignore it. Anyway, can I request baji, and mitsuya with a very sunshine/ happy go lucky gf who’s always smiling but one day they see her self harm scars (that she’s never said anything about)? I’ve always been the therapist friend and the one to help people when no one else would, but no one ever helped me.

I always wear long sleeves cause mine go all up my arm and I hate them. I’ve been clean for a few years now but I never wear short sleeves due to people making uncomfortable comments and just out right being rude to me for having them. I’ve had family members yell at me for hurting myself/ having scars, never really asking if I’m ok. I just want to comforted by my favorite boys and actually be able to vent to someone without being judged and not have to keep up being happy all of the time.

Side note: keep up the great work, I’ve read through your stuff and it has really brought me comfort :’) also take as much time as you need, i don’t want to rush you

Baji and Mitsuya (Separate) Comforting Sunshine S/O After Seeing Her Scars

mentions of self-harm and scars, please don't read if those things will be harmful to you, rather than comforting pls

Pairings: Baji x Fem!Reader, Mitsuya x Fem!Reader

Warnings: mentions of scars, alluding to self-harm

Genre: Comfort

Word Count: 520

Post-Type: Headcanons

Summary: In which you're usually happy-go-lucky so they're shocked when your sleeve raises and they see scars there

[A/N: Hey hun <3 thank you so much for being so sweet and patient, I really appreciate it! I was more than happy to write this for you. I just hope this is able to bring you some comfort! Thank you always for the support <3]

Baji:

Baji is shocked, he’s used to seeing your strong side, the side of you that’s always put together and happy

You always had a smile on your face and never failed to spread that sunshine to the people around you as well, including himself–it’s one of the reasons why he fell for you so quickly

So when he sees those scars for the first time and you let him in on what you’ve been feeling behind your smile, he becomes very protective over you

Not only did he think he needed to protect you from others, but now also from yourself

Of course, this man was always protective of you, but even more so when he sees your scars

He feels bad for the times he ranted to you when you were probably going through your own struggles and he didn’t even realize it

Awkwardly says that he’s there for you if you want to talk about anything (he’s bad with feelings, but at least he’s trying)

Give him some time to loosen up and get used to all this

Yes, he’s very awkward at first and kinda doesn’t know how to go about acting now, but give him some guidance and he’ll figure it out

He loves you and just wants you to be okay, so expect a very clingy Baji for the next few weeks until you open up more to him and show your true feelings in front of him instead of hiding them behind a smile like you always did

Mitsuya: 

Mitsuya is also shocked at the sight of your scars, but he’d never let that shock appear on his face

He has always been your biggest support system, so he’s definitely going to be even more now than ever

Presses kisses to your scars, no matter how old or fresh they are, with the utmost of care, showing you how much he loves you and how these scars change nothing between you

Goes out of his way to design you shirts with long sleeves or jackets when the weather gets colder that he knows you’ll love, if you decide to continue to cover the scars

But makes sure you know that there’s nothing to hide, he accepts all of you, even your arms with scars, and nobody would be stupid enough to comment about them with him around

To him, those scars are proof of your strength, you got through some of the hardest moments of your life and you’re still around pushing through it all, he admires that so much, but he’d never let you go through those battles alone anymore to the point where cutting felt like your only route to relief

Mitusya makes extra time for you in his day, checking in on you and spending time with you to make sure you’re doing okay

Encourages you to speak your true feelings with him, there’s absolutely no judgment with him at all; you don’t need to plaster a fake smile on your face to please him

He wants to face your problems with you and help you overcome them together

REQUESTS ARE OPEN

Posted: 12/11/2023

#tokyo revengers x reader #tokyo rev x reader #tr x reader #baji x reader #mitsuya x reader #tokyo revengers x you #tokyo revengers x y/n #tokyo rev x you #tokyo rev x y/n #tr x you #tr x y/n #baji x you #baji x y/n #mitsuya x you #mitsuya x y/n #tokyo revengers headcanons #tokyo rev headcanons #tr headcanons #baji headcanons #mitsuya headcanons #baji keisuke #mitsuya takashi

[mazeinthemiroh]

i’m deep in my feels rn haha could i request a soft little skz reaction where their s/o puts a lot of thought into learning about their interests and stuff? i want the skzers to feel special and appreciated cos they are :(

stray kids reactions to their s/o putting effort into their interests

genre: general

word count: 0.7k

warnings: none

pls like and reblog if you enjoy! feel free to request anything <3

bangchan

channie is a workaholic and so his interests lie with what he is working on at the moment. he would absolutely love it if you took an interest in his work, and will even run you through how to compose a song, write lyrics, produce, etc... he might even let you make a song with him on the side for fun! i mean, it's not impossible. he's made a whole song on one of his lives! so doing it with you should be easy, and really makes him happy.

lee know

minho has quite a few interests but the one that dominates his heart the most is, obviously, his cats. he can't help but speculate on different toys he should buy them and whether they need any supplements or different meals. he loves taking care of his babies ;-; so when you take an interest in his fluffy children, his heart simply melts. it's definitely important to him to that you get on well with his cats because he loves them so much <///3

changbin

binnie's main interest is working out. which, of course, is not for everyone. if you are the type of person who likes the gym just as much as he does, he would love to share his time at the gym with you! if you are not the type to usually go to the gym or don't regularly work out, but still try your hardest to get involved with that interest of his, changbin will be really flattered and make sure he will help you and make your gym experience worthwhile, since you're doing such a nice thing for him.

hyunjin

hyunjin would probably appreciate his s/o doing this the most. he likes feeling understood. but also, he spends a lot of time on his passions and interests, in particular, his art so they have become really important to him. they are a part of him. so the fact you want to get involved in what he loves? he's over the moon. he would love to teach you how to do certain techniques and even share his hobby with him.

han

han loves getting into new things to watch, especially anime! forget sleeping, he's bingeing the new episodes of what he's currently watching atm. he loves it when you get involved with the shows he's watching because it means he has someone to completely rant about the plotline or openly simp over a character with someone who knows what he's on about. it makes him feel like he has a voice and he can express how passionate he feels about a character being killed off in the third episode because wtf?? he needs someone to talk about this with!!!

felix

this gamer boy would LOVE it if you joined him playing video games. he's so invested in the storylines of certain video games and will get so excited when you ask him about it and genuinely take an interest. and he will happily tell you all the things he knows. he gives you advice on what each of the characters does and which is the best character in his correct humble opinion. will be super excited to play these video games with you and will really appreciate you being interested in what he loves.

seungmin

seungmin has been getting into more artsy stuff lately. he likes photography, for instance, and likes to get outside and look at the world through a different lens other than his own eyes. he would love it if you were to join him on a little photography date uwu. ALSOOOO reading dates are totally his thing. he loves burying his head in a good book, and having you taking an interest in his hobbies means that he can share these peaceful moments with you.

jeongin

jeongin is a fashion lover. we know how well he dresses and how his style is always on point. even if you are not so keen on passion but find ways to make his interest feel understood, he will love you even more. like sometimes you will get him an expensive item of clothing or maybe even suggest going clothes shopping with him. he likes it when you ask for advice too, so he can put his fashion knowledge and expertise to good use!

#skz #stray kids #kpop #skz scenarios #skz imagines #stray kids scenarios #stray kids imagines #stray kids reactions #skz fluff #stray kids fluff #kpop scenarios #kpop imagines #bangchan #bang chan #chan #seungmin #kim seungmin #jeongin #yang jeongin #hwang hyunjin #hyunjin #han jisung #han #lee know #lee minho #changbin #seo changbin #lee felix #felix #kpop fluff

[suraemoon]

A Starry Night in 1956

Link to Part 1: A Sunset in 1956

It isn’t necessary to read Part 1 to understand this fic but hey it doesn’t hurt. ^^^

Warnings: p in v smut, virginity loss, oral sex (f receiving), angst, argument, reader has a panic attack in a crowd, descriptions on uncomfy clothes, some objectification of the body?, edging, unfulfilled wishes of finishing inside a woman, teeny bit of masturbation, any more pls let me know

WC: 13k (please bear with me lol about 5k of it is smut)

A/N: The story takes place in Florida in August of 1956. But unlike Elvis’ real life Florida shows during this time, instead of a theatre I’m imagining an amphitheater, park type of venue, like a music festival? if that makes sense. This is my first time writing smut, go easy on me. My inbox is always open for requests if for some reason you trust me with your ideas. Ahhh enjoy.

The starry night’s humid Floridian air was the cozy homestead of not only the expected water vapor but altogether meaningless, patient chatter. The laughs and small talk of people all with a common goal and interest: to see the Elvis Presley perform before them. The Elvis Presley so nationally loved by friends and schoolmates. The Elvis Presley so naturally hated by parents and guardians.

A passionate performance ranted and raved about, a controversial performance complained about and loathed, fit altogether in such a delicious little package for anyone so free in their judgment and beautiful rebellious lovers who have gotten their hands on the wave of Rock n’ Roll. The bow of this gift was a handsome man at its forefront. The poster boy of it all.

You’ve had the privilege of getting to know and love Elvis ever since you were sat at desks right next to each in elementary, in the days when the world was blissfully unaware that the foreman of a cultural movement was in school learning times tables. Seats that would eventually get moved due to disruptive chatter and giggles from the two of you, but the bond built that day could never let up or separate. Now you get to share the gift that is your best friend with the world, for better and for worse.

The year is 1956. Elvis and his band are touring and performing for adoring audiences all around the country and of course he had to take you, his “bestest girl”, with him to every single stop on the road.

You remember the now-fond, then-scary day when in the comfort of your childhood bedroom of your baby blue family home in Memphis that Elvis first proposed the idea that you come with him across the country.

——————— A few months ago ————————

It was a little while after you and Elvis had come up from dinner. After putting your dishes in the sink and thanking your mother again for the meal she prepared, the two of you quickly but politely and calmly made it a mission to get back up the stairs and into your bedroom like you had done so many instances before. It started when you were little, yawning and waiting patiently to get dismissed from the dinner table to get back to playing, sometimes getting yelled at for trying to race each other up the stairs to see who can get to the top first. Now that the two of you are young adults, you are obliviously unaware at how the urgency to get to your bedroom might look to any bystander. The bystanders being your confused, furrowed brow parents.

It was a vulnerable sunset, the orange hue of golden hour pouring into your window as the only new thing allowed to enter your frilly, pink bedroom. A bedroom whose decor hasn’t changed for years.

The two of you had planned to go page by page through your copy of the high school yearbook from your graduating year, reminiscing together on past experiences and gossiping about where everyone is now. You can clearly recall the moment when you finally were able to wriggle the yearbook from your full well-loved bookshelf, dusting it off and holding it in your hands while Elvis whispered from his spot on the pink, stuffed-animal filled bed behind you his plans about going away to do performances and his hope that you will accompany him. You dropped not only the book you were holding onto the cold hardwood floor but also the smile decorating your face as you turned around to face him.

“What’d you just say, Presley?”

You knew exactly what he muttered. He whispered loud enough to know you could hear him. You were both aware of these quiet facts. Quickly, you scurried over to your bedroom door to grab the doorknob and close it, an action that your parents did not allow when Elvis was over, but at this moment the pure necessity made you not care at all.

His voice was louder and shakier now, his accent getting thicker as he hurriedly tried to explain and convince you all in a few seconds. It was as if the last train was about to leave the station and he's trying his hardest to get you on board. His leg bounces against the bottom of your wooden bed frame.

“I know, I know. It sou-sounds crazy b-bu-but Mama is worried sick about me going and I know she’ll feel better if you’re there with me. I’ll feel better if you’re there with me. You just gotta, you gotta come with me, Satnin. You don’t know how much I need ya, honey. I really do. Never needed ya more than I do now.”

You force words to come out of your mouth in response to this confession of his. He’s never needed you more.

“E-Elvis I can’t just up and leave. What about…”

The tone of his voice has done a 180 and is now trying the best it can to portray calm and certain. The falsehood that everything has been figured out, the hope that everything will be okay. The need that everything will be okay. It’s apparent to him that you need assurance in this moment but his words are not only spoken to you; they are a message of comfort to himself, a plea to the Lord that what he has taught himself to think is actually the plan, that what he has grown to believe is indeed the truth.

“We graduated a while ago. We’re grown now. Ain’t nothing stopping us but ourselves. That’s what I had to tell myself. The only one that’s stopping you is yourself. It’s all doubt.”

You start to pace around the room, your feet going from the softness of your small carpet to the stable hardwood. Every thought and uncertainty is filling your mind at rapid speed and they’re pushing to spill out of your mouth restlessly as if your brain can’t seem to keep them all contained in one spot.

When you regain the ability to form sentences you stop in your tracks to look at him, your racing thoughts are even faster as words.

“I’ve got a family too, Elvis. A loving one just like you do and your mama wouldn’t be the only mama worried. My mother would be more than worried and I can’t imagine leaving her and no way my daddy would just let me roam the country either. You know him, you know how he is.”

“Honey…”

It’s like you don’t even hear him, your brain doesn’t have the space to process that he spoke, “What about all I’ve got here, Elvis? My job at the diner? I told ya that promotion is coming soon. Oh God, I know it is, I’ve been working for a while. I can’t just quit and lose all that progress I made! Brother done moved out to live his life and my parents are gonna be here all alone without me.”

Your feet stop their parading right in front of him, both of your hands on the side of your face like they’re the only thing keeping your head on. Your eyebrows furrow in wonder of why he isn’t trying to combat your words, confused on the fact that he doesn’t seem as concerned as you are.

Elvis decides to gently take both of your shaky hands into his, leading you to sit down on the bed next to him. Your poodle skirt lifts a little in the back just for the top fabric to pool around you and settle back down on the comforter, the breath you take in lifts and settles just the same.

He consoles in almost a whisper, “You don’t gotta worry about all that. It’ll all be alright. We’ll be together.”

“I know we will but….” His thumbs start moving back and forth in a soothing motion, cutting you off.

His voice picks up more, “Please? Come with me? All we’ve been through together, we can’t lose that now. I’m s-so scared of losing that, of losing you. I need to take a piece of home with me. Something to keep me stable, to keep me going. You always do. Every new place I go, I’ll have my Memphis with me.”

He gestures exasperated to you, his Memphis.

You take a long sigh, have all of your years of friendship culminated to this moment? The only movement in the bedroom besides the rise and fall of breath is his steady thumb on the back of your soft hand.

There is a few minutes of uneasy silence before you speak up looking not at him but instead at the glow of the shaded lamp on your nightstand. “How long will we be traveling again? I need to know how much to pack.”

“Well. New dates and venues keep being added and uh—Wait a minute....That means you're coming?” He glances at you, eyes sparkling full of hope.

You stare back at him with a smile, hope matching hope. A soft laugh almost makes your words a melody, “That’s what it means.”

“Oh, Memphis!” Elvis quickly traps you into a big, bear hug as if all of his pent up emotions have been waiting to be released. He’s squeezing you like his life depends on it, his arms around you to hold and keep you close. You giggle at this sudden action as excitement fills the air and fear clouds your mind. But, it’s a good kind of fear. It’s an anticipation that cannot be tamed.

————————————————————————

That day was a while ago. The Colonel has taken Elvis and his band (you and the Memphis Mafia buddies that have tagged along, he has taken begrudgingly) around different parts of the USA. You’ve gone to venue after venue, drove mile after mile, and it was far from done. Tour life has its ups and downs for everybody and it’s proven that the lifestyle is not for the weak of spirit. You have experienced exhilarating parties and contagious laughter that made it so you never wanted the sun to set and the nights to end.

There have also been days that the homesickness stays sitting in your belly, tears threatening to fill your eyes if you thought too hard about Memphis or stared too long at the family picture you kept safe and secure in your bag. An emotional rollercoaster when you come across it while quickly taking something out.

Many had come out for this night’s concert, one of many that Elvis would perform in the sunshine state of Florida. You watch observantly as the crowd around you waited in the open-aired park venue with waiting breath and time-passing fidgets.

It managed to cool down significantly from the heat that coated the early hours of the afternoon, to which everyone was thankful because it hopefully meant less fainting from screaming girls. The fanatic women didn’t have to worry about the sun beaming down to work against them, only Elvis’ attractiveness filling their soul, making them swooningly dazed. Pure anticipation kept the atmosphere thick where the temperature had let up.

You were full of anxiety as you stood alone in the middle of the crowd. You shifted from foot to foot, hand tugging on the edge of your tight black pencil skirt. It hugged your lower half like a glove would and had to be at least a few inches shorter than what was seen as decent. You know that your daddy would have a fit if he saw you dressed like this.

These recent stops have been hardest on your heart, hardest on your mind. It has been too long since you’ve touched your mama’s face, too long since you’ve heard your daddy’s belly laugh. Too damn long since you’ve seen the familiar, calming blue paint of your Memphis home. The same home you were brought home from the hospital to, the same home you left to go on tour.

We’ll be together.

His words have seemed to do nothing but haunt you lately. You’re together all the time, that’s true, but you only seem to be wholefully acknowledged when he remembers you exist. Nowadays, the only long conversations you have are when he needs someone to vent his emotions to and happens to recall that the girl he drags along with him is not only a pretty thing to look at but is also his best friend. You don’t even know if the best friend part still holds up anymore but it hurts too much to even imagine that being the case. If you think too hard about it, you would no doubt throw up right on the lady next to you’s shiny heels.

You play with the strap of your blouse, is it tighter than when you put it on? Is that possible? Well it had to be, no other explanation. You’ve never felt so uncomfortable in a top.

We’ll be together.

He’s together with girls that aren’t you. You shouldn’t be mad about it. You can’t get angry at it, you aren’t his girlfriend. He has no reason to commit to you but now your life is centered all around him. You can’t help the jealousy that fills your mind like a bitter perfume whenever you see him flirt or kiss a random girl. Several beautiful girls crowd around him at each stop, eager to get their hands on Elvis Presley. You sigh knowing that you could never hold a candle to them. If your light shined as bright as there's, why weren’t you his? You give polite, tight-lipped smiles when asked to hold the camera and snap fan photos. You stand there awkwardly shifting back and forth on your feet, playing with your hands in the moments succeeding when he starts smooching all over them with that signature Elvis-style charm after the flash leaves and the picture is snapped. Who knew that there were so many model-worthy women just sitting in Suburban towns waiting to have their lips kissed and boobs grazed by Elvis Presley?

Some nights you find yourself alone under the stars and locked out of your and Elvis’ shared motel room, the only place that you know can be yours in such an uncertain existence. In your place is a gorgeous woman from the party the Memphis Mafia insisted that you all go to after an already long night.

Well, you technically can’t say the lucky woman is “in your place” because the activities occurring on the other side of that lovely door are things you can only dream about Elvis doing to you. There have been many nights where you’ve thought about sneaking in the bed next to yours to feel him in a way you’ve never had. Even if it’s just for sleep.

The reason you two even share motel rooms in the first place is Elvis’ desire to keep you safe and in his line of vision. Away from the access of creepy men roaming around these unfamiliar cities and even some of his Memphis Mafia friend group who think it’s fun to hit on you sometimes. He keeps you close but not too close. You’re stuck in a limbo of not knowing where you stand with a man you’ve grown to know so well. You know with every ounce of your heart that Elvis cares about you, there is no doubt about that, but you don’t know how he feels about you. It leaves you feeling dumb and knowledgeable. Disoriented and understanding.

Little does he know that sometimes you do get tortured sometimes, by no one but him. A mind game he doesn’t even know he’s playing. It leaves you broken, what’s the point?

In the crowd, your hands shake with nerves as if you are the one about to perform. The expensive gold and diamond bracelet Elvis bought in New York and presented to you under the old oak tree in your backyard makes a clanging sound as it moves with your motion. It seems tighter than it was when you put it on earlier. To take your mind off of both boredom and anxiety, you use all of your concentration to unhook the tiny gold clip and you make it looser a few notches. The bracelet had looked so out of place the night he gave it to you; the shine of the metal contrasted with the pastel fabric over your skirt. Though you are sure that the little diamonds throughout the chain shined brighter that night when you were sitting next to Elvis, maybe the light from the sun, maybe the light he radiated.

The jewelry went perfectly with your look tonight. Elvis has been picking out your outfits lately. They have gotten so mature, so grown up, so sexy.

———————— A few hours ago ————————

Elvis’ jaw dropped when you stepped out of the small bathroom looking like the epitome of a Hollywood bombshell in the outfit he had bought for you. He ignored the urge to pat himself on the back with how it all came out. “Wow, honey. You’re tryna kill me, huh? Do a spin, you have ta.”

It’s a tight blouse, a lower cut than you would even think about picking up from the rack but he was glad that could convince you to put it on. Your chest is lifted and displayed perfectly among the bright, satin blue fabric.

He’s used to your lower half being covered beneath the layers of poodle skirts or swing dresses but the tightness of the black skirt was practically nude compared to your usual style.

Some of your body is left to the imagination, how he likes it, but seeing the true outline and curves of your figure was like getting a glimpse of heaven.

You giggled and did as much of a spin as the tight fabric of your skirt and your heels allowed you. “Do you really like it?”

He looked at you, shocked that that’s even a question. “Are you kidding? Like isn’t strong enough of a word. Imma have to beat fellas away with a stick.”

“You’re gonna get jealous? Maybe I should use all my flirting skills tonight. I might meet a nice Floridian boy, you never know.”

“No such thing as one. You should go look at yourself in the mirror though. Might make your head a little bigger but it would be a shame if you didn’t see yourself.”

Your jaw was the next to drop when you got a good look at your full outfit in the mirror. No way the woman staring back in the reflection was you. It had to be someone else.

“Seeing what I’m seeing now, honey?”

You made sure to do every step of the process how Elvis liked it. You had taken his suggestions on how to do your hair and not one strand was out of place. The dark makeup was his idea as well, you’d usually never apply this much. The outfit topped the whole thing off.

“Oh thank you, Elvis! You’ve got a good eye for these types of things, you really do. You’re the bestest. Should pick out my whole wardrobe, that’s how much I like it. It’s beautiful.”

He replied simply but perfectly, making your knees weak as he did it, “You’re beautiful.”

Your eyes tried to meet Elvis’ baby blues in the mirror but couldn’t quite catch them because he was too busy staring at other things. You watched him scan you up and down with those famous bedroom eyes, lidded as in a trance, and you were sure that you could pass out right there. He’s never looked at you with such fever in his eyes before and oh how much you enjoy it now that you’ve had a taste of it. You aren’t sure if you should kiss him or slap him as he lustfully and not so subtly stares at your legs, your hips, your waist, your boobs. His eyes only leave the mirror to look at your backside, not visible in the glass.

Little did you know, you were the manifestation of everything he had worked towards, a physical representation of how far he’s come. His childhood best friend dressed like a leading woman on the big screen…because of him.

At that moment he remembered, a thought provoked by a thought, an incident years back when the two of you were playing and running around the plush grass of your backyard, the blue paint of the house was brighter back then and the birds chirped a little louder. The wooden swing was still intact with both ropes on the tree, aging this story correctly, and your favorite activity in those days was to swing and jump off. One day, Elvis was sitting on the ground watching you demonstrate the skill that was jumping off the swing and the precision it took to get it right. When you leaped, he watched as your skirt went up in the air to act as a parachute, giving him a view of the white cotton panties you wore under your skirt. His eyes widened and his cheeks flushed pink. Years later he can look back and laugh at how innocent and curious he was.

You got up, grass stains on your knees from the jump, and was quick to sit next to him, “Elvis?” You stop trying to catch your breath. “Wasn’t that amazing! I’ve been practicing and yours might not be as good as mine yet cause you are just starting. You gotta time the jump just right..”

You rambled on and on not yet noticing that your friend hadn’t responded yet when suddenly you stopped, noticing his red cheeks. “Elvis? Is everything alright? You’re looking a little pink.” You poked each of his apple-red cheeks with your finger and giggled.

That was the first time Elvis saw you, or anyone for that matter, in such a way. There was a weird pang in his heart, a blush that didn’t want to tame, and a fast shaking of his head when you asked what had gotten him so flustered that he wasn’t able to speak for a whole minute. Years later, he’s the one dressing you.

He smiles to himself at the memory. You saw each other grow up. Elvis started to notice you wear makeup. Your eyelashes magically got longer, little did he know at the time that this was due to mascara, something that has since become well acquainted with. The pretty pink blush that you used to only have when you were flustered and embarrassed stayed permanent on your cheeks as if normal. Over the years, he noticed how your tops started to fill out more, something he felt bad about taking glances at in those teenage years when he had the hormonal urge to stare. Well he still has those urges at 21, but that’s beside the point. Your face has matured into its features. You’ve always been pretty but have you always been this gorgeous?

He’s taken out of his own head when he feels you turn from the mirror and hug him, he uses his hand to pet your head lovingly and follow the shape of your hair.

———————— 20 minutes ago ————————

All those thoughts he had a few hours ago while getting ready in the motel room lingered in his head when you last saw each other about 20 minutes ago. He looked over at you once more backstage before sending you out to join the crowd waiting. “Go out there and enjoy the performance, honey.”

You have gotten used to being a backstage-dweller, watching from the sidelines getting a view that few others would ever have. The only downside was not being able to see all of Elvis’ pretty face while he performed but that stunning side profile was enough to keep you satisfied.

“I can’t just stay back here? No crowds…no sweat…no pushing. It’s nice”

“You think I dolled ya up for you to hide? I wanna see you while I’m performing. Spending all your time behind the scenes you can’t get the full picture. Might forget why you’re here.”

“Are you sure?”

“Don’t know why I’d say it if I wasn’t sure. Do I have a reason to lie?”

“That’s not what I asked.”

“But that’s what I answered, honey.”

You huff, “Fine.”

————————————————————————

This series of events is how you ended up in your current situation.

The cold barricade is the only spot of cool under waiting torsos as you are only two rows back from being able to count the dust of the stage. You take a glance at the curtain stage left, trying to get a glimpse at the man who sent you out here. It’s to no avail as you are just a little too far back and the curtains have no give in their ability to stay closed. Your right hand goes up to cover your chest in defense when while looking to the side you catch one unsuspecting girl’s boyfriend trying to pass the time by staring at you a little too intensely. If looks could kill, you’d have been dead a long time ago. Girls look at you with disgust as if you were planted as an opener for their boyfriends to gawk at; boyfriends who only came out to make their gals happy, their hair styled in the hope that she’ll pretend he’s Elvis later on tonight. Some didn’t care or acknowledge your existence at all which made you wonder if these “stares” were all imaginary. Just your mind trying to protect you from something not happening. No way they weren’t real, if they weren’t you wouldn’t be so itchy right now, and your breath wouldn’t be so heavy even when the humid air is giving you nothing to work with.

You felt so desirable and confident when Elvis was eyeing you at the motel, what happened? Maybe the realization that you’re attracting the wrong people. You aren’t desired by the man your heart yearns for most. All dolled up to be a woman created for you to be, a woman that you knew that if you thought hard enough, if you worked hard enough you can one day become. The shell had been made for you to fill in seamlessly and it was still uncomfy. And oh how much you wanted it.

The lights go down and rogue screams of excitement accompany it. The lights are back up in a few seconds and there he is in all his glory, Elvis Presley. He still has that radiating quality that can be seen in the dark, a boyish smirk that causes women to shriek, hair that except for a few pieces in the front would be flawless. His suit is a little oversized but still perfect. He didn’t look real and every time you see him perform you are taken back as if it’s your first time ever laying eyes on him. Like a flower, Elvis blossoms like a flower in spring while on stage. It’s where he shines the brightest. He’s the boy you’ve always known transformed into something more than just potential. It’s the best version of himself, being in your happy place will do that to a person.

You focus on fawning over the man on the platform as if he’s the only thing that matters. The only interior taking you abruptly out of this reality is a push….not a push, a shove. It’s the group of younger teenage girls behind you trying to get closer to the stage. Someone else bumps into your shoulder as you look over. You can feel people’s breaths around you, the sweat, the sticky warm air, the heat of it all mixing together. It was never roomy on the grass, but the bubbles of personal space subconsciously given in to everyone in the crowd popped in that moment and the people just started getting closer and closer.

It was like a sea of magnets attracted to one thing and you wanted to yell at yourself for picking a spot as close as you were to the stage. Your breath quickened as screams got louder and louder, more and more overwhelming. Are these girls next to perform? How are they getting up to those octaves?

A man holding his woman’s hand, trying to get his gal closer to the front, had to have not seen you in front of him as he pushed through. It was at this moment that the loosened gold bracelet sitting around your wrist flew off and landed on the grass next to you. As you reach to pick it up, tears making your vision blurry, the front of a lady’s heel steps on it, the delicate chain snapping. Your gasp was full of fear and surprise, it was as delicate and small as the bracelet. Either the shock was too pure to come out of your mouth and instead went down to your heart or the sound was drowned out by the noise surrounding you. Maybe both. You were too small to be heard.

The offender walked away quickly and nonchalantly as if the metal of your most beloved possession was as soft as grass. Frozen in place before continuing your mission, the seconds you spend bending down to pick it up from the ground felt like hours. Gasping for air as if you were underwater, your shaky hands reach for the bracelet, now split into two pieces of chain. You grab onto whatever you can, fist turning white and the journey back up was even tougher. It felt like your throat was closing up like the pressure changed from the ground to normal height. No breath you take is deep enough for an efficient amount of air. Why can’t you breath? Your nose stuffs up and your lips shake in a shiver. The stampede of hormones is well past by now, you aren’t squished, no ones touching you but at this moment everything feels too close. Everyone’s focus is on Elvis, no one is even acknowledging your existence but it's still embarrassing to feel the tears travel down your face, getting ready to stain the surface.

Not knowing what else to do, you start to hurriedly walk the opposite direction of the stage, trying to find anywhere to go that wasn’t there in the grass. The only time in your life that you are trying to escape that silky Southern voice. You give a small “sorry” here and a tiny “excuse me” there as you make your way past people too entranced by Elvis’ performance to notice that someone was talking to them. Your voice was so weak and shaky that your mind made you doubt if they could even hear you over the noise, doubt if the words came out of your mouth to begin with.

Your walking leads you away from the crowd and your journey ends next to the water fountains outside the restrooms. This mundane spot is where your tired mind decides is good enough refuge to sit, not caring one bit about what you would look like to an observer.

The far away side view of Elvis Presley giving his all on stage and the crowd of people elated below it is more beautiful from back here. Your head leans back against the brick of the wall of the small restroom building. There’s a hope that the act of laying your head back would allow you to take an actual full breath despite the soreness of your throat, a hope that laying your head back would prevent the tears in the corners of your eyes from flowing down and ruining your makeup despite the immense emotion filling your mind.

Stop crying, stop crying, stop crying. There is no reason for the tears. You didn’t die, you didn’t get hurt. But it still hurts. Nothing happened to you, why are you such a scaredy cat? An overdramatic pathetic girl, a jumpy sheep who’s crying wolf, a…

Breathe.

Your view is up and all you see is the stars. It’s a starry night in Florida, the type of starry night that would give Van Gogh the inspiration to paint a masterpiece. The stars are small dots, all could be mistaken for the others accompanying the dark blue. All except for one. One star is larger and burns brighter than the others, if you stare long enough it vibrates in the sky. It shimmers, it gleams, it gives warmth, it gives hope.

For the first time since it was laying on the ground you decide to look at your bracelet, or what was left of it. After opening your fist, besides a few pieces of grass, you see a gold chain split in half. When looking closely at the small diamonds decorating it, you notice that one of them is missing. All of a sudden your lip quivers and your eyes gloss over as if getting the same queue. You glance over at the stage, the one star that can bring you comfort doesn’t even know you are hurting, he isn’t here to protect you. All alone your vision focuses on him with all its might, his moving figure is a little blurry through watery eyes but he’s there and that’s what matters.

The performance takes 5 minutes and 5 hours at the same time. You watched the whole show, your knees up and head resting on crossed arms as the tears dry in your face. It’s when he exits the stage to roaring applause that you get up from your spot on the ground. You know from your time backstage that when Elvis walk’s off out of view from the crowd he is no longer a figure floating on adrenaline, he’s your tired, sweaty best friend who you provide with a water bottle and a hug. You need to see him, you’ve felt alone and abandoned for so long, you need Elvis.

Determinedly, you walk as fast your wobbly legs and painful heels will take you. You are able to easily get past security to get backstage because the man standing in all black guarding the entrance was able to recognize you from when Elvis sent you to the audience earlier. By the time you get to the crowd of crew and band that you’re sure Elvis is in the middle of, your calves are burning with exhaustion. Your eyes move frantically in their search and finally you see him, he has a beautiful glow making him stand out in the pack of people.

You run up as soon as you see him, almost rolling your ankle as you fall onto him, arms enclosing his body with a tight hug. “Elvis!” You thought the tears had run out a while ago but there was something about being in his embrace, feeling his warmth and presence, being filled with his scent that makes every emotion that you experienced alone rise up again inside of you. You sob into his blazer, not letting him go.

At first he’s shocked thinking that fan snuck her way backstage but he hugs regardless, immediately recognizing that it’s you. “Satnin? W-wh-what happened?”

“Oh Elvis, I can’t be out there anymore. It was so scary and there were so many people crowding and I was bout to fall and trip. A-and my clothes are too revealing, they gotta be. People kept looking at me but not the way you look at me, it was real different. I just wanted to be around ya so you could protect m-me but you were performing! I didn’t know what to do…I was all alone. I don’t wanna be alone anymore.”

He’s never seen you this vulnerable, this broken. “Did someone hurt you, baby?”

You pull away just a little to look up at him, your face is puffy and red from crying and Elvis swears you’ve never looked so small. You look so young, cheeks and big eyes reminding him of the little girl he met all those years ago, not the femme fatale prototype he saw in the mirror just a few hours ago. A broken girl in a woman’s clothing. Pure Memphis was in your eyes, reminders of simpler times.

“I was so nervous, Elvis. I just wanted to be with you.”

“Honey, I asked ya a question. No one hurt you out there right? Answer me ‘cause if some bastard put his hands on ya, I’ll kill the son of a bitch.”

“No! No one hurt me. I was just so scared…I was just so scared. And look!” You show him the fragments of what once was bravely in your hand. “I broke it, Elvis. I’m so sorry. You got it just for me and it must’ve been so expensive and it fell off my hand and broke. O-one of the things is gone and I don’t even know if I grabbed every piece of the ground. That’s why you can’t buy me stuff, Elvis, I told ya that. I’m too clumsy for nice, fancy things.”

“Shhhh…shhh, baby. We’re going back to the room. It’s all gonna be okay. Forget the damn bracelet, it don't mean anything to me. You’re alright and that’s all that matters. You’re okay now, you’re safe now.”

Elvis puts an arm around your waist and guides you through the crowd, ignoring everyone who tries to talk to him except for a few words when asks, not asks tells, one of the guys to drive the two of you home. He quickly opens the door to a car, rushing you in with him to head home.

Home being the motel. You two are miles from Memphis , the home your heart longs to see again.

The ride back to the motel is quiet. The most quiet it has ever been when the two of you are around each other. The car drives there fast but the journey home always feels shorter than the trip you took to go. That is what keeps the world spinning, if not, hope would be lost too soon.

Within what seems like the blink of an eye or the very long blink of your tiny little car nap, you arrive at the dimly lit sanctuary. Giving the driver a small “thank you”, you and Elvis get out of the car simultaneously and walk silently to the room assigned for the both of you, he opens the door to let you in first.

Immediately after walking in and locking the door, Elvis takes off his blazer, the button up he's wearing underneath now on full display, and he throws it on a chair. You walk over to the bathroom, a dim shade of yellow filling the room after you turn on the light. The reflection in the mirror was horrifying, there was a stark contrast from how amazing and put together you looked earlier. Your mascara is smudged from tears and you try your best to rub the residue off with your finger. Your cheeks can be easily compared to red apples and your lipstick is in need of a reapply. Aware of the fact that you look like a hot mess but not having the strength to do anything about it, your attention goes back to the broken bracelet that you’ve had in your tight grasp ever since it was picked up from the floor.

Elvis sits down on his bed, rubbing his eyes as if deep in thought. The silence of the room can be described as comfortable only for the fact that it differs from the loud noise of the venue.

Giving up in your attempts to put all of the pieces of the bracelet together on the counter, you sigh and turn around to head to the main bedroom. It’s when you see Elvis that you’re reminded of everything and all the emotions start to well up again.

You have to tell him. Break it to him easily. Make up your mind.

Your mind stays fast and something is on the tip of your tongue, your lips quiver and in an ill attempt to display conviction in your statement, it instead comes out in a broken, quiet, and tear stained whisper,

“I can’t do it anymore, E.”

Elvis looks up, his hands dropping from his face to fall on his knees, his voice shows true confusion at your sudden words, “What?”

“I can’t do this. I can’t, Elvis. It ain’t me.” Your hands gesture to yourself, not only the Elvis-picked outfit but all the tears and tiredness apparent as well.

He shakes his head unseriously as if this is all too ridiculous to be real, “What do you mean it ‘ain’t you’? We’re making it you. You just gotta get used to it.”

“You always say that but it ain’t working, I’m not the type of girl you want me to be. I need to go home, I just wanna go home.” This last statement comes out as almost as plea, like a little kid’s complaint when they don’t want to go to school.

“So you’re just gonna leave me? Just like that?” He decides to stand up, questions coming out of his mouth defensively. You hate hearing the tone of disappointment in his voice, it’s as if you are unjustified, unreasonable.

“I’m not leaving you…”

“You’re leaving me.”

Face to face, you look up at him, tears threatening to roll down your face again at his harsh and direct accusations. “Elvis, I’m so tired, so exhausted. I wanna be here for you, I want to be everything you want…You don’t know how bad I want that, how bad I need ya to be happy with me b-but…”

“You’re going back to Memphis? This is so outta the blue, honey. This is coming from nowhere, you’re happy and all of a sudden you wanna go home.”

“I’m sorry, Elvis. I think it’s best that I go home. There ain’t no place for me here, no purpose for me being here, no spot to fill.”

“Leaving this…”

His voice is firm in his words and his hand moves around the room as if you forget where you were and then he continues, “..is leaving me. My life is different now. You can’t just quit when it gets hard. I need your support, you don’t know how much I need you here with me. Don’t just up and leave. I make sure you’re alright, I buy you all this fancy shit, I accommodate for ya and I don’t know what I’m doing wrong. I’m doing it for my folks and you. That’s what I’ve always told ya, what I’ve always told myself. It’s for Mama, Daddy, and you. That’s it. All of this ain’t for me, it’s never been. Let me satisfy you. This is your place, that’s the spot you’re filling.”

The sound of your voice raises and your tone has changed to match his in attempts to defend yourself, “Don’t act like I’m abandoning you, Elvis. I’ve supported you ever since I met you. I don’t need fancy things to make me happy, it ain’t about that. I don’t need you spending a dollar on me. I’m just a regular old girl from Memphis and for some reason your mind thinks I’m someone else.”

“You’ve always been you. Ain’t no other girl like you. You know that you’re special, I’ve known ya for so long.” He reassures you as if stating the obvious, something you should know and not be doubting. Something that for some odd reason you have seemed to forget.

“That’s the problem. You’re so focused on what I represent, how I make you feel. I’m not some memento from Memphis that you can carry around in your pocket like spare change. That don’t make me sound like a person. I’m all alone. I’m surrounded by so many people, been places I’ve never stepped foot it in, and I’ve never been so lonely. You don’t give me a second thought. I’m only here when it’s convenient for you, when it’s convenient for me to exist. That ain’t friendship. I’m only here when you’re struggling, I’m struggling, Elvis.”

His voice gets even louder and at this point it’s almost like a contest of who can outdo the other in loudness of volume and truth of defensive statements. “You don’t think I’m lonely? You don’t think it’s overwhelming for me too? Everyone thinks life is all good and dandy for Elvis Presley. Sun is shining all the time when you’re tryna support everyone. It’s all fun and games when you get all the pressure on your shoulders, the attention from everyone, the press hounding ya…”

You can’t help but roll your eyes in annoyance and throw your hands down in exasperation, “Here we go again. You’re the only one going through things. We’re all just planets going around your sun. No one else is allowed to feel? I’m trying to get you to understand what I’m feeling and it’s all about you again.”

The smart choice would be to calm the situation down but your honor can’t let you. To you he is the Elvis you’ve known for years and years, one that isn’t any better than you.

His face gets a deeper shade of red as if you have finally struck a nerve and he points his finger at you accusingly, “You aren’t gonna disrespect me like that. Acting like I’m some selfish bastard.”

“I never said that-” You back up as you realize it has started to get too serious, too real. You’ve never had an argument this momentous and your voice reflects the shock.

“That’s the last thing you’re gonna do, woman. If you wanna spend all your time in Memphis, do that. Live your whole life sitting in that same ole house, I don’t give a damn.” Annoyance seeps out of his voice and you aren't sure if it’s stubbornness or irresponsibility that makes you keep arguing.

“Why am I an extra in your life, Elvis? My whole life revolves around you and you don’t give me the time of day. I hate that I’ve taught myself I’m only good when you’re around. It makes me sick to my stomach. What happened to ‘we’ll always be together?’ We haven’t been for a long time now.”

“Then why do it in the first place? Why let me drag you around if you’re gonna nag and complain about how miserable you are? Why say yes?”

“Because I love you Elvis!” At this moment his face softens immediately.

Your voice breaks into a cry as the strong walls you have built up from the ash have broken down again, “A-and I’m so scared, I’m terrified. Everything’s changing and I’m terrified of losing ya. I wanna make you happy, I want you to love me. But maybe I’m not cut out for it. I’m not good enough for this life.”

He reaches out to hold your hands, “Don’t say that—”

“I wish with every bone in my body that I was but I’m not. I can’t be the girl that you want me to be. Maybe you’ve grown from needing me and I’m still stuck. But if that’s true I gotta sort it out alone, I can’t hold you back.”

In this moment his lips touch yours and you are taken aback for a second from shock, immediately you close your eyes and kiss him back just as passionately. The kiss is years of pent up emotions and years of confessions unsaid.

He pulls away, puts his hands on your hips to stabilize you, and speaks confidently, “I love you, Satnin. I always have and I always will. If I haven’t been showing ya that recently then I’m real stupid. You’re all I want you to be, I beg ya believe me. I don’t know what kinda girl you think you can’t be, but we’ll sort it out.. I’ll make sure we see it through because I love you. I’m in love with you and my biggest regret is not telling you sooner.”

You’re at a loss for a verbal response so your body’s natural instinct takes over and it’s your turn to kiss him, both of your hands cup his face as your lips take ownership of what they’ve always wanted. It’s just as passionate as the kiss you two shared prior, but this one is full of heat. His hands roaming up and down your body feeling anything he can as his lips focus on yours just adds to the friction.

It’s a desire that fills and energizes, a desire that refuses to be tamed just by the touching of lips and moving of mouths. The tension in the room is different from the cold atmosphere of a few minutes ago; it’s dirty, it’s sloppy, it’s sexual. The seconds of kissing turns into a few minutes of a make out session, one that has only occurred before in your fantasies. You’ve both been standing for a while but neither of your legs are tired.

The kiss is only broken when Elvis moves his hand to your ass and after a squeeze he picks you up, your legs wrapping around his waist as your arms do the same around his neck.

He whispers seductively in a tone you’ve never heard him use with you before, “I’m gonna show you how much I love ya. Just you wait. I wanna make it up to you.”

He carries you over to his bed and places you gently onto the soft sheets. Elvis kneels down on the ground in front of you as you lay, biting your lip in anticipation. His hands go to take off your heels, the ones that were killing your feet earlier but adrenaline dulled the pain. “Don’t want your little sooties to be all sore now.”

You blush light pink at the baby slang for your feet, the softness of his words contrasting from the passionate feelings of this moment.

It’s when he comes back up from his spot on the ground to lean on top of you on the bed, the veins on his arms showing themselves off beautifully as he holds himself up, that you realize the seriousness of what’s about to happen.

His lips move from your mouth, down your chin and to your neck. At first it starts with little ticklish pecks, then sucking on your skin that is sure to leave marks all over you in the morning. It isn’t until the first small moan escapes your mouth that you realize the seriousness of the moment. Your back instinctively arches as he moves to your collarbone; it’s as if your body has known for a while what’s going to happen, what it wants to happen, and your brain has just unfuzzed enough to catch up. He wants to have sex with you and you want to have sex with him too.

The arch in your back gives him the cue to lift you even more up to reach the zipper on the back of your top. Your heart pangs and he lifts his mouth from your skin when he notices the way you shiver at his touch on the small of your back. “I-Is this alright? Are you comfortable with this? I don’t wanna move forward if you aren’t comfy.”

“This is more than alright, Elvis. You can keep going…please.” He nods without saying a word and uses his right and unzips your top seamlessly, it’s like it was meant to be taken off this way. The only non gentle part of this process is him taking the top in his hands and looking at it before throwing the garment across the room. This took you by surprise at first but he did buy it for you, so you suppose it’s his to take off and throw. Before you know it your bra is unclipped as well and the room’s cold air hits your warm chest making you shiver again.

“Wow, honey.” Elvis’ licks his lips as he takes you in. Your breasts move up and down with your breathing. “Can’t believe you’ve been hiding ‘em from me…”

He bends down and gives each of your breasts a long kiss, evoking a small giggle from you. His mind compares your laugh to the most beautiful of melodies.

His eyes bounce back and forth between your giggle-induced bouncing breaths as he begins to talk to them. “She’s been covering yall up? Hiding you two from Elvis? That aint fair ain’t it?”

“Elvis stop that.” You give a small eye roll as the laughter vibrates your whole body and the smile on your face lights up the room.

He smiles as he gives your nipple a small nibble in order to get another reaction from your body before looking up at your eyes again. Your blush reminds him of a pretty picture, “It’s like ya locked me out of heaven.”

You laugh at his exaggeration, “You’re too much.”

“You’re just enough.” He kisses your lips again.

He moves his mouth down your stomach and stops when met with another roadblock: your skirt. He just shakes his head and the zipper is undone faster than the one that was keeping your top together. You lift your ass to help shimmy out of the fabric and with Elvis’ help it rolls down your legs to drop on the ground between his feet.

The sight he sees below him at this moment is one he has only seen in his wet dreams, one he has moaned about when erections snuck up on him, one that makes him get even harder in his pants then he already is.

You lay before him with the cutest shade of pink flushing your face, your lips slightly parted as you stare at him awaiting his next move, your chest fully exposed as if inviting him in, and the only item of clothing still keeping some sort of mystery from his eyes is the cotton white panties on your bottom half. It’s the only thing that he isn’t quick to take off once it gets in his way, it’s like a gift on Christmas. A special present you’ve been anticipating all year, for him longer.

Your blush gets even redder in embarrassment as you assume that he’s looking at the growing wet spot dampening the fabric, staining the sea of innocence. It’s one you can’t explain, a wetness that you only get when around him. One that makes you clamp your legs together subconsciously whenever an innuendo hits the right spot. It’s one that calls for obliviously necessary panty changes when you rush to bathroom expecting your monthly blood, to pull down your pants and find out that the “blood” is a pool of translucency.

“Can I take these off, honey?” His fingers play with the upper band of your underwear restlessly, waiting for permission to get exploring a new world. Lewis and Clark getting ready to explore Louisiana. Settlers waiting to go travel west in the search for gold. Elvis doubts that any gold buried in California is a good comparison to the teasing quality of your snatch against the see through white veil of your panties. He looks at you patiently, you’re the fucking American Dream.

You nod your head shyly at him, still unsure of the fact that you’re about to be truly exposed before him. It’s a vulnerable state in which all humans come. Adam and Eve weren’t aware they were naked until after they sinned and you’re about to eat the apple.

Unexpectedly, Elvis shakes his head at you as if you got an answer wrong in class and he’s trying to lightly break it to you. He will break it to you, firm but encouraging, dominant but soft, “Nuh uh. Gotta use your words, baby. Be a big girl and answer me, I need to hear ya say yes. You usually ain’t got no issue with that. Such a talker and now you’re as quiet as a dormouse?”

“Yes. You can ta-take them off.” Your quiet voice doesn’t beat the dormouse accusations and you can’t help but be embarrassed by your weak stutter but you are all the way sure that you want this. You’ve never wanted anything more.

“Thank you.” Elvis wasn't gonna fight you on that, he was a racing horse ready for the starting gate to open, a hungry tiger waiting to pounce. After hearing the sweetness of your consent, there never was a sweeter sound, he gently but efficiently pulls down your panties, exposing yet another part of your delicate body to the cold air. With the same fate as your black skirt, your panties start to be rolled down your legs but instead of letting them reach the ground, Elvis lifts both of your legs slightly to grab the white fabric and put it in the pocket of his pants. He knows that the pants won’t stay on for much longer but even when they eventually fall to the floor, his party favor will stay secure.

He does a full look over you again from your face down to your pussy, a sight that for a while he thought he’d never get the blessing of seeing in person. A sight that there are no words to describe quite right. His voice is breathless as he speaks to you, “You’re gorgeous.”

You’re too focused on looking at his concentrated face to notice his fingers going to touch your soaked cunt, a high pitched moan of surprise leaves your mouth. Not only surprised at his tender fingers touching the hissing heat, but surprised at how fantastic it feels. The two fingers making contact are the perfect balance of soft and calloused. They go back and forth, exploring your pillowy pink cunt like it’s a new guitar waiting to be tested out. Even with just a few seconds of touch, your arousal coats him welcomingly already. “All this slick is for me? I did this to ya? All this for Lil’ Elvis, he’s a lucky guy.”

“Al-all for you, Elvis. Always for you.”

Elvis in all his experience knows exactly where to go to make you twitch in satisfaction, the tiny bundle of nerves is the sweet spot. His fingers move in a circular motion, his fast pace never tiring. Your moans start to pick up and Elvis swears it’s the best sound he’s ever had the privilege to have heard in his 21 years of living. The moans are soft and breathy for the most part, here and there you let out a deep alto coming from your core.

“Oh, Elvis!” The first yell of his name is like ecstasy for him.

As if suddenly aware where you are, a motel room, not a floating cloud in heaven, you bite your lip to be careful. You can just imagine the weird stares you’d get from people in the morning, especially the ones that know it was your high voice disrupting an otherwise peaceful late night.

As if noticing those satisfying, constient noises of pleasure being muffled, rather terribly, Elvis looks up from your distracting pussy for the first time in a while. His fingers never stop their circles on your clit. “Let me hear ya. Don’t keep those sweet noises from me, darling. Don’t ever do that.” You're amazed at how he can multitask, a small reprimand comes out of his mouth while his fingers give the most pleasing feeling in the world, all simultaneously.

Remembering faintly behind the wispy clouds fogging your mind the loud sounds that you’ve heard from other guests while staying in random rooms around the country, your concerns manage to string together a sentence. “Th-the walls are thin. People can’t hear m-me.”

People can hear you. They can hear you well, what you meant is that you don’t want people to hear you but the words didn’t quite come out that way.

“You want em to hear ya moaning and screaming? Gonna up the ante, doll?”

“N-no, no! Don’t wanna…don’t want them.”

“Oh. Well t-those folks don’t matter none. Nothing matters right now but you and me. Me and you.”

To drive this idea into your mind, to take your worrying head off of consequences, one of Elvis’ fingers makes his way inside of you gently. Your walls naturally squeeze around his finger and his cock pulses in his pants in pure jealousy, Lil’ Elvis getting impatient for his turn. His long finger curls just a bit before sitting still inside of you for a second, your button hissing at being left abandoned. He moves his finger in and out of you gently as he speaks, “Jeez, baby. When was the last time someone touched ya? You’re as tight as a virgin.”

You freeze in that moment, for you are a virgin and he senses this immediately from your hesitation, the way your bright eyes widen and long eyelashes flutter as if a secret just became uncovered. From your reaction you’d think he started fucking you already. “Elvis…I-I…”

“Oh. You are…? A w-while ago you were with that…thought you were….Never mind that. I know I gotta give ya that extra attention now. I’m gonna get ya prepped for me, honey. Ju-just wish ya would’ve spoken up and let a guy a know…It’s a big thing for ya pretty head to keep secret.”

Having a bigger duty and responsibility on his shoulders after learning that you’ve never taken a cock before, Elvis knows he’s gotta take extra time with you and he has any complaints about that. Even if you weren’t a virgin, he would’ve been mindful with you anyways for it was the gentleman thing to do. Elvis Presley might be a horny man, a horny man who’s cock wants nothing more to be buried inside of you fucking you senseless, but he’s not selfish son of a bitch.

He wiggles and works a second finger inside of you, your eyebrows furrow and eyelids close at the sensation. As he sets his pace inside of your pussy, your moans get louder as if building up to something. You make no attempt to hold them back, but even if you tried there’s no way you could for the pleasure was too strong.

“Elvis! O-oh…yes, yes!”

“There you go…Let all that shit go, all those bad thoughts. Atta girl.”

You feel something build deep inside of your lower stomach, it’s like a fire being fed. When Elvis feels your walls start to clench, he stops and immediately slips out of you. It’s quick and easy since you are so slick.

What you didn’t expect more than his touch leaving you was an anger building inside of you. Your brows furrowed in confusion and your voice was quick to implore him for answers, “What the….? Why’d you stop? You can’t just—”

He chuckles, making you more annoyed. “Shhh….Imma give ya what you want, Imma give ya everything ya need.”

In his kneeling position at the edge of the bed he adjusts a little and moves his head down so it’s face to face with your cunt. “Such a needy girl with an even greedier pussy. Greedy for something it don’t even know.”

You whine as your body shimmy’s down further, desperate to meet his mouth. He puts his hands on your thighs, opening your legs more and keeping you stable at the same time. “Both of you are whining for me, huh? I’ll take care of ya.”

In that moment he kisses your cunt with a small peck and your mind flips on itself. His laugh vibrates your pussy. He’s amused by the fact that if that tiny kiss made you jump you had a bigger surprise waiting for you and oh he couldn’t wait to show you. He’s the only one who knows what’s coming next.

Elvis’ mouth makes contact with your cunt again, eating you out with unending strokes of vigor and passion like it’s what he was put on this earth to do, he’s close to the finish line of something he’s been dreaming of accomplishing for a long time: helping you reach your finish line.

Your legs bend around his head, encasing him in paradise. Your left hand meets and intertwines with his right one, holding hands is such an innocent gesture at a time like this but it’s so perfect. In contrast, your right hand grips the sheets with whitening knuckles. “Yes, Elvis! Just like that….Oh Lord.”

His tongue has no mercy as it devours you, he’s like a starving animal. Your hips, also chasing, buck up to meet his mouth halfway. He works you perfectly and it isn’t long before the storm starts to brew in your lower tummy again, like lightening is waiting to strike.

“Please, please, oh please, please.” You don’t even know exactly what you’re pleading for, just some release, some finish.

“I’m…I’m...oh my God.” Your words serve as a strong caffeine as Elvis starts to suck on your sensitive clit and that’s when the band breaks and you reach euphoria. A wave of satisfaction floods your body like the ocean, it's a feeling so foreign but so instinctual, new but always meant to be. Your moans are easily the loudest they’ve been so far and your legs start to shake intensely. The room seems to spin around you as you start to see the stars, the same ones you saw decorating the night sky outside. Elvis licks and sucks you through your high, tasting the sweet honey of your release on his face as your legs close tightly around his head, making him go deeper.

Moving your hips against him to ride out your finish, your body feels limp as you try to catch your breath. Elvis lifts his head and looks at you with a grin, an attempt to lift your hand to wipe his face is a failure since your hand shakes as soon as you bring it up and ends up falling right back on the sheets. He licks his lips and comes back up to kiss you.

His grin is boyish as if proud that he was the one to make you feel that way. The first man to give you an orgasm, the first man to make you writhe and moan, the first man who’s name is screamed by that parted mouth of yours. Hopefully the only man to ever make you do those things. His mind will remember this in the future when met with any of your smartass remarks, eye rolls, or teasing. Is it wrong for him to love that? Too damn bad he’d say.

He whispers in your ear, thick southern drawl and all, “You feel better, mhm? You were being so good for me, honey. You taste like some honey too, no doubt.”

Your voice is as shaky as your legs were just a second ago, “I l-love you, Elvis.”

“I love you too, baby.”

A need to give back fills your heart and you somehow manage in this jelly-like state to sit up, your hands going towards Elvis’ pants. When you cup the hard bulge in his trousers, his head falls back with a groan. “F-fuck…see what you do to me?” You nod, amazed at the fact that you are the reason for his arousal. When he unzips his pants and pulls down his underwear with them, he is as hard as a rock, standing at attention because of you.

After taking off his bottom garments, he kneels on the sheets of the bed and goes to unbutton his white dress shirt as you stare at his cock. Assuming that this is the first one you have ever seen, he isn’t all anxious but is instead proud of Lil’ Elvis and the gawking reaction he is getting from you.

The only time you had seen a penis was in middle school sex education class but that was only a drawing of one. It was 9am and the black and white non-detailed sketch of the male anatomy was met with giggles by your immature classmates. For you it was met with a yawn considering the time was 9 in the morning and your only objective in that time slot is to stay awake.

Fast forward to the present day sitting in front of a hard cock, the one belonging to Elvis Presley, was nothing short of fascinating. This one differed in some ways from the one you were shown years back in class, not only was it more detailed and quite a bit bigger, but there was extra skin covering the tip. This observation interests you and with curiosity getting the best of your racing mind, you bring your hand up to wrap your fingers around the thick of his length and pull just a little bit of skin back gently with a soft up and down motion.

When you do this, your glimpse at a pink tip and a bead of liquid forming in the slit was just a small glance because Elvis twitched around you immediately, a small moan. In fear that you’ve hurt the man you love, your hand immediately draws back as if he was a stone that burnt you.

“I-I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to hurt ya, E. I should’ve asked, I really should’ve. You asked before—”

“Honey, honey!” He cuts your worries off. “It’s alright, you didn’t hurt me. I-It’s ju-just felt really good. The way you got all shaky when I kissed ya all nice? It’s the same thing.”

“Oh.” Just a simple motion would help him reach that dream-like state you were in just a few minutes ago? It seems like women were more complicated.

You weren’t oblivious to the fact that many women took cock inside their mouths to pleasure their men. You’ve overheard Elvis and his Memphis Mafia talk about women “giving them head” which you have assumed is a girl making them fall apart with just her head. There’s only one hole on the face big enough to please so your mind decided to fit the puzzle pieces together on its own, unsure if your puzzle matched the truth.

If you knew how to perform this critically acclaimed “head giving” you would in an attempt to satisfy your already watering mouth, but in fear of the unknown you decided to stick to what you’ve been told feels good. You decide to keep pumping him, up and down, up and down. His voice is breathy with encouraging praises. “J-just like that, baby. So good for me. Making me feel so nice…so nice.”

It’s pure vulnerability sitting across from each other fully naked, you pleasing him right after he pleased you. It’s when your fingertip goes to swipe at the beads decorating the slit of his red tip that he stops you with a hiss.

“You’re gonna finish me quick if ya keep on. Now Lil’ Elvis may not mind either way, you’ll find out he’s a horny thing, but it’s better if I’m in ya. I wanna be inside ya. Lay down, honey.”

You do as he says and lay down obediently, trying to mentally prepare yourself by taking deep breaths.

Part of him wanted to take you from behind, fucking you fast and rough until tears form on your face, tears of pleasure this time. But knowing what he knows about your lack of past experience and wanting to see your face as you take him for the first time, he’ll have you lay down comfortably. He has no problem at all either way, he’d even be pleased if the night ended right here without him coming to that sweet finish. A day ended after eating you out is a day well spent in his book.

“Imma go real slow. It might sting a bit cause you’re all fresh and new down there but you’re a big girl. My strong little satnin, I know you can do it. You’ll take me.”

“Okay.” You remember his demand earlier to use your words to respond and you do so.

He leans over you, getting in a good position to enter. While rubbing his tip against your cunt in preparation, edging you both in the process, he swears that he could finish right there easily.

You look down at the spot where you are to connect with amazement. Knowing for a fact that Elvis is anything but a virgin, you trust his skill and watch his process. It seems planned out prefectures and oh how glad you are to have a perfect man. No one on earth is perfect but Elvis Presley is so perfectly Elvis Presley. The things he excels at never disappoint.

You feel the burning plunge of his entry and immediately both hands go to grip as much of the white sheets as they can. Once he has the tip in his eyes go up and down interchangeably, watching both your face and your pussy while you take him. It’s better than any movie.

He continues on his slow journey inside of you. Meanwhile, you’re a pain you’ve never felt before, no way things are supposed to go up there. No way things are designed specifically to go up there. If they were, why is it so big?

His voice is breathy and his eyebrows furrow in concentration. “F-fuck…Tight ass pussy. Sucking me in.”

Your groan is a mix of pleasure at his words and of pain at the impaling you’re experiencing. For a split second you think about looking away, like not watching the needle go in you at the doctors office, but you can’t.

He’s only about half way in when you convince yourself that there is no way you can take more.

“It hurts like hell, Elvis. S-stop, just for a second. I need to breathe..I can’t breathe.” He halts the second you say stop and his attention is strictly on your face, his eyes full of concern. Tears start to form in the corner of your eyes as your breath starts to pick up.

“Breathe, baby. It’s alright. Take your time.” The only thing he wants more than bottoming out is for you to be comfortable. He wants to go deeper, he wants to fuck you until you can’t remember your name but his love and concern for you comes first always.

“I don’t think I can, Elvis. It’s too big, it’s huge.” These comments come not as an attempt to enlarge his ego (they are in fact doing that) but of actual concern for the state of your situation.

“Shhh…it’s gonna fit. God didn’t make men and women not fit with one another, he made us perfect. You just gotta relax or else you’ll just tighten up again. Don’t mess up our progress, honey, it’ll hurt even more.”

It’s hard to relax when you’ve got the long lost cousin of metal pipe piercing into your body. You don’t say that aloud though. With a deep breath you continue, “Okay, you can keep going….just slow.”

He heeds your instructions and continues plunging into you with small rolls of his hips until he bottoms out with a loud grown, officially balls deep inside of you. You two moan simultaneously as he starts moving in and out carefully. Beautiful waves of pain and pleasure perfectly balanced move through your body.

“Fuck. Just like that.” Truth was you weren’t doing anything but moaning and arching your back, but that was all he needed. Just your body responding to his.

Your hips going up involuntarily to meet his thrusts is a signal for Elvis to go faster and that he does. He moves deeper and harder inside of you, one hand showing its veins as it grips the soft sheets next to your head and the other gripping hard onto the bone of your hip.

“Oh my God, Oh my God…” You gasp and bite your lip. Everything about this is so vulgar but so beautiful. Two beautiful bodies focused on nothing but making love. A moment like this is something you’d dream about at night and then in the morning sun pray to God for forgiveness from such thoughts. Now you are yelling up for mercy in a different way.

He leans down to whisper in your ear, his rhythmic thrusts never slowing. “It’s Elvis, honey. I’m the one doin’ it to ya.” You moan from the vibrations of his voice against your skin. His lips move smoothly to your neck, sucking on your skin to mark you as his own. He’s the one who ruined you and he wants the whole world to know.

As he makes a masterpiece of your neck, your hands grab onto his back, fingernails sure to leave red tracks. You’re both making your presence known on eachother’s bodies. Your cunt makes its satisfaction known with loud gushes going hand in hand with your loud moans. There is no vibrato left inside of you.

“Elvis! Oh yes!”

The man orchestrating it all lifts his wet pink lips from your collarbone, breath heavy. “So perfect. You’re made for me, I’ve always known you were made to be mine.”

“Mmmm….”

“I’m so cl-close….I’m gonna….” He wants to finish inside you, it would be his first time coming inside of a woman unprotected and he wants that special woman to be you. But he can’t. He knows deep down that it would be one of the most irresponsible decisions he could make. It would be a selfish decision.

It wouldn’t be in your freshly-fucked best interest, it wouldn’t be in his new careers best interest, It wouldn’t be in the best interest of the fans having to wait for Elvis Presley to get off of paternity leave.

If only he could fill you up without getting you pregnant. That’ll have to be a fantasy between him and his fist.

Quickly, he pulls out of you to prepare for his impending release giving his cock a few pumps to try to replace the warmth from your pulsing walls with his hand. Finally, a stream of white liquid comes bursting out of the slit of his and you watch with short breathed awe as his immediately head leans back, mouth moaning your name over and over like a prayer.

You’re the one who made him feel so good that he reached the clouds. Knowing that it’s Elvis’ turn to see the starry sky, experiencing the same state of bliss that you were able to encounter earlier, makes your heart so happy.

Your belly now is feeling a different type of warmth. it’s his release making a mess of your stomach, spurting like paint all over you. As soon as it’s all out of his system, Lil’ Elvis giving the show its last encore, the man in front of you cups your face into his hands and kisses you. He rolls to lay his body next to yours, your lips now the only parts still connecting.

Elvis pulls away and both of you try to catch your breaths.

“I love you, Satnin.” He whispers softly.

You respond back just as gently, “I love you too.”

That was…an experience. If you got this far thank you, thank you, thank you. I hope you enjoyed. My inbox is always open for questions, comments, and concerns. I take requests but there is no guarantee I’ll get to them. (they’ll probably give me inspiration to write more often though). Call me, beep me, if you wanna reach me. Adieu my loves. ✨

#not beta read #elvis #elvis presley #elvis fans #50s elvis #elvis x reader #1950s #fanfic #elvis presley fic #elvis presley fanfiction #elvis presley x reader #elvis presley x you #elvis imagine #elvis fic #elvis aaron presley