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gangplanksorenji · 3 months

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Kinknuary Day 18: Voyeurism

Pairing: Kang Hyewon, Kwon Eunbi x Male Reader

Word Count: 8,725

[Kinknuary Masterlist]

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“Is she even near, Eunbi-ah?”

Eunbi faintly winces and clicks her tongue, “Come on, just be patient, babe—she’ll be here soon, don’t worry.”

Her small attempts of reassurance even ignites your anxiety because you are a man who doesn’t get his time wasted, not even a second for nothing—two beliefs: time is gold and that your patience is as thin as paper—yet gladly, Eunbi’s reassuring tone and her practice of making your patient subdue such ephemeral advances and that alone, makes you appreciate her even more.

Apart from her being such an absolute gem and often you describe as the epitome of perfection, you can see how heart stands out amongst the rest—even though her physical features made you fall in love with her, it’s her personality that made you fully commit onto loving her and that’s the wonder of Kwon Eunbi.

You won't find a girl like her that can treat you like you’ve always wanted: full of love, compassion and intimacy—yes, and you won’t dare to find one because your heart is only shouting her and her only.

“Oh, Hyewon-ie’s gonna be here! Hurry, I want you to meet her, babe!” Of course, Eunbi is going to introduce you to anyone she becomes acquainted with, as she wants you to be more socially in contact with people. You’re not surprised with this, not even a single bit—you appreciate her advances towards you as she only aims to be the better version of yourself, and with that, you’re madly grateful for meeting a girl like her.

“H-Hyewon? I haven’t heard that name coming out of your mouth, Eunbi.”

Eunbi chuckles, as she flashed a contagious grin, emanating her optimism, “Yah—I mentioned for quite some time now, she’s a great friend from my college days.” She sighs heavily as her eyes probably glisten because of reminiscing her past days with her, knowing how much it probably means to her. “Glad we’re still able to keep in touch, whether it’s online or personal…”

You slowly nodded as you’re invested with her small introduction, and then thought of a lovely banter towards her. “You have so many friends, Eunbi—wonder how many more I haven’t met or maybe—” You chuckle from what you’re formulating, making Eunbi pique her curiosity as you continue, “—you’re even friends with some celebrities at this point.”

“Yah! Can’t blame myself for having a lot of contacts.” Eunbi brushes her hair off her shoulders, fixing herself as she continues, “Besides, you’ll like her—she’s shy and sweet, pretty much you, but a girl version. Also, don’t be intimidated by her look. She may look strict but that’s just how her stare is.”

Those piques your interest towards Hyewon because of her relativity towards your personality according to hers—maybe she’s a little overexaggerated but no blatant and evident lie can past and be utter on Eunbi’s own lips—that’s how angelic she is, but only if you knew what lies within…

Eunbi holds your wrists as she enthusiastically drags you towards the coffee shop that she always loves to visit and has a drink to calm her mind with. You could feel yourself smiling uncontrollably on how eager Eunbi is when it comes to introducing Hyewon to you, and with that reassurance, you’re getting yourself onto the brink of excitement, fully-invested into meeting her.

Yet, you always say this yourself and swear until the end of time: no matter how beautiful and captivating they can be, you’ll always lay your eyes and your whole love towards Eunbi and her only, no matter what happens.

This will be an interesting one and little did you know, your expectation will be surpassed by your desires and mostly, Eunbi’s.

---

“H-Hi…”

“Hello, you must be Hyewon?” You continued the awkward meeting between the both of you, as you can feel how shy she is and most likely, seeing yourself in her and because of Eunbi’s excellent practice with you, you managed to initiate the better blow as you can feel herself getting comfortable.

“Yes… Y-You must be Eunbi-unnie’s boyfriend, oppa?”

“Uhm…” You fix your composure as you meet your eyes towards hers, making her more assured and interested towards you. “Y-Yeah, Hyewon… Also, how did you know?”

Hyewon just laughed a little, covering her mouth with her hands and fixing her hair, her captivating mannerisms finally making you like her as you find it presentable and attractive. “Well, Eunbi-unnie talked about you for quite s-some time, that’s why I knew you, oppa, hihi…”

Now being enlightened, you nodded with her explanation as the both of you further conversed with each other, talking about little topics as you wait for Eunbi on the counter, ordering some coffee and with more time left to wait, the anticipated drinks are now finally within both your grasps as Eunbi happily introduces Hyewon to you.

“I’m sure the both of you have talked to each other, already, since we’ve got here.” Eunbi optimistically approached the both of you while distributing your respective drinks as you thanked her, appreciating how she did it herself even though you insisted on ordering it—maybe Eunbi wanted you to really talk with Hyewon, and introduce yourself to her in your own way without her influence. “See, babe, Hyewon’s just chill—I knew you’d like her.”

You scoffed as you do agree with Eunbi—your first impression with Hyewon is that she’s mostly introverted and calm, her demeanor most likely intimidating but nonetheless, she’s composed and a little sophisticated, on your own observation. As few more laughs ensued as well as interesting topics that spice up such hooking conversations, you then asked on the most polite manner, on why did Eunbi bring you and Hyewon here and as per Hyewon’s side, is it really appropriate for her to really barge in between the both of you? Isn’t she getting jealous?

Well, Eunbi insisted herself to introduce Hyewon to you so why would she be jealous in the first place? You may doubt that there is a complete absence of jealousy that she can feel—maybe a hint of it, but nonetheless, she isn’t really that sensitive of a girl as she knows how well your boundaries are and how much you love her than anybody else.

“Well, about that…” Eunbi sips on her straw with a nice amount of such sweet concoction of coffee and cream, then continues her response. “Hyewon actually wanted to say something to you, babe so, I hope you don’t mind being on what she’s going to say.”

Hyewon then faces Eunbi as they met eyes, glaring at her as that’s not what she wanted, for now—Hyewon wanted Eunbi to direct her proposition towards you, since Eunbi’s connection to you is eternal and unbreakable, so to Hyewon’s surprise, she didn’t expect Eunbi to really change her mind as it’s too late to retaliate, and all Hyewon could do is speak as your all ears on her.

“But why me?” Hyewon whispers on Eunbi as she encourages her to just say it directly towards you, knowing she wouldn’t lose anything and you, wouldn’t mind anything she will share for you even though you’ve met her just today—it’s maybe the utter reassurance of Eunbi and your comfort towards her and yes, you like her, too.

Of course, you swore until the day you die, that you’ll love Eunbi and she’s the only woman you’ll be with but Hyewon, she’s a different breed in your own opinion—her pretty face is really what got you, brushing off that intimidating demeanor earlier as her impeccable features are pretty similar on what made you love Eunbi even more: sharp nose, oval face, porcelain skin and of course, those, plump lips.

Having the courage built up upon herself, Hyewon composed herself and made it so that you won’t feel any discomfort for her—maybe, thanking Eunbi too for her reassurance to build up such an incredible courage that led up to this moment. “I w-want to feel you, oppa…”

With a sudden embarrassment, Hyewon suddenly covered her face with her hands as she faced against you, sipping her coffee to calm her down as Eunbi scoffed a little, finding Hyewon’s attempts cute yet on the verge of ineffectiveness. Of course, you were baffled on what Hyewon had said towards you as it could mean a lot of things but being enlightened will be better, and Eunbi will do a great job with that because you trust her with all your heart.

“Ahh, babe—I haven’t really talked to you about this, I’m sorry—” Eunbi took another sip, before holding her hands to you, reassuring you that everything’s fine and nothing’s going off-track. “—but aside from introducing her, Hyewon wanted to take this opportunity to—” Eunbi looks left and right, wanting nobody to hear such sinful words except for the both of you and Hyewon as she continues, “—experience such great sex, and I know you’re a great one, babe. So, if you would want to do it with Hyewon, then it’s going to be fine.”

Well, that was all of sudden and you were caught off-guard with it. You know how Eunbi is open when it comes to talking about sexual desires and her wants but you never thought that it would lead to this moment, wanting to have sex with her friend that you barely knew anything about. Such lustful activities with Eunbi isn’t novel between the both of you—that explains how much you’ve railed her tight cunt a week ago that she couldn’t walk a day after and dumped a healthy load down her throat on a restaurant’s restroom three days ago.

Again, you’re not new to this but just in utter shock at how things immediately unfold at the speed of light and knowing how you can see the eagerness in Hyewon’s eyes, you wouldn’t dare to say know but you need further time to discuss things thoroughly. So, excusing Hyewon with Eunbi in the nicest way possible, you then hold Eunbi’s wrist and drag her to the nearest restroom possible, wanting to talk this out as you can’t possibly comprehend what’s happening right now.

---

“You talked about this with Hyewon a long time ago, did you? Is this on purpose?” Your tone is sharp, wanting to question her real actions towards you as you're too flabbergasted to comprehend anything and with Eunbi’s side, she just wants to help her friend on her needs to, and that’s what she needs to explain all thoroughly to you.

“No, babe—I mean, y-yes, she did point it out but I insisted on you being that man for her, she never suggested you but with my assurance, she agreed. I’m sorry if I didn’t talk about this towards you, babe…” Eunbi lets out a sigh of relief as she feels guilty for not letting you know about this first yet your heart crumbles seeing her anxious like this—she’s your kryptonite and can’t bear to see her being on her lowest or in her possible sadness because it breaks your heart into pieces.

“I mean, Eunbi—this is just crazy, no?” Your flummoxed state didn’t help in any of your decisions to come up to a final conclusion. You just shake your head, and licked your lips, thinking of the possible decision to agree with what she offered as Eunbi reassures you right after.

“Yeah, this is crazy babe but are you willing to? It’s alright for Hyewon if you don’t want—” You the interrupt her with a snap of your fingers as she shuts her mouth, now concluding something after a well-observed round of judgment.

“I’ll say it to Hyewon herself, alright, Eunbi?”

She didn’t hesitate to nod as you came up with the right term: to say it in front of her—even though she’ll be pleased or saddened with your rejection, then it’s probably going to be better to say off what you wanted in front of her and without any time to waste, you and Eunbi got out of the restroom—of course, not in a suspicious manner since you know what people’s mind can think of these days—and came up with the final conclusion.

---

“So, maybe…” You let out a deep sigh as you looked at Eunbi, and then averted towards Hyewon again, smiling as she felt assured with your faint grin. “We can do it, as long you’re comfortable with it, of course.”

Your subtle reassurance makes her smile as she can’t believe that you’ll agree with her, as you just wanted to help Hyewon even though you barely knew her, and that is mostly thanks to Eunbi. Not so long after, she interrupts too as she doubles the efforts on making Hyewon trust you as Eunbi herself pretty much involves her trust towards you when having such a loving, steamy session.

“It’s alright, Hyewon—my baby’s a great person to have fun with and she can take care of you as much as he always does to me, so, don’t be scared and trust him, okay?” Hyewon nods with a faint smile curling her lips, then saying an almost-inaudible “thank you” before you can interrupt again and strengthen Eunbi’s assuring remarks. “Yeah, don’t worry, Hyewon—I’ll stop if you want to, okay? As much as proceeding, okay?”

Your brain still can’t help to comprehend such an incredible confession about Hyewon that mostly was helped by Eunbi—you knew something’s fishy right from the start but if a lovely woman of the girl of your life wants something to be fulfilled, then you’ll gladly help her out as this is just the beginning of what could be an insane session and with your coffee’s almost halfway through and wanting to end the day with a paramount of a bliss, then you would likely oblige to your wants as you invited them to go over Eunbi’s place and god, what can they have in store for this evening…

---

Hyewon’s coyness probably tends to allure you and captivate you, yet she fails to fully let you fall under her spell—not to disparage or brush off her natural captivating demeanor by that but it’s just the fact that you’re mostly investing your love towards Eunbi, but maybe, you can be enlightened if Hyewon pulled a great trick up her sleeve.

“Oh, you have such a great place, unnie—woah, this looks better than where I reside, gosh.” Hyewon’s in awe as her eyes wander around the spacious place, starstrucked on how simple yet glamorous this place is in her eyes.

“Isn’t your place great too, Hyewon? I’m sure it’s as good as this…” Eunbi replies back, feeling optimistic that Hyewon’s maybe just overexaggerating things as it’s probably great as she expected. It’s only expectation between the both of them because they haven’t really got the chance to see each other’s places but now, maybe it’s start of the time where everything going to get back on their original tracks—everything just gets unveiled, one by one, and maybe later, will lead to a bigger revelation.

“I doubt it, unnie. I mean, it’s not that bad but yours is better—”

“Ladies…” You interrupt their small talk with your manly voice, startling them a little. “Are we going to compare each other’s places or set ourselves towards the show, hm?”

Eunbi playfully slaps your stomach, as it did little-to-no-pain but regardless, you jokingly caressed it, playing how painful it is in a sarcastic way. “Don’t mind him, Hyewonnie—sometimes, he’s just getting too horny and impatient.”

“Yah! I’m not like that, Eunbi—you’re mostly the one who begs for dear life.” You bat out against her, knowing how those claims are close to being inaccurate and Eunbi’s enthusiasm taking over her, tending to probably over exaggerate things that she shouldn’t. It doesn’t matter where does it end up as both feeling are mutual—she can turn you on within a flick of her fingers as much as you do towards her, and it’s not even close to exerting effort as the both of you magnetize within each other’s touch, the last things you’ll probably see is her body pressed against yours, her heat emanating how needy she is for you.

“Don’t tell you’re not like that too, babe.” Of course, you wouldn’t act such a hypocrite to deny any of those facts as you gave up battling an argument against her.

“Okay, okay, Eunbi—I am, so—” You clicked your tongue as your eyes averted towards them, anticipating what they may have in store for the three of you. “—how are we going to start this off?”

Both of their eyes met together, almost feeling like some telekinetic energy surged through the air as they instantly knew what they wanted to do, especially Hyewon. “Well, maybe I need to say everything we have in plan, babe.”

Eunbi looks up as she tiptoes a little, just to whisper into your ear but god, that sultry, seductive voice never fails to turn you on off the roof. It’s one of your weaknesses that could literally make you submissive or in the best way possible, fall into the darkness—the darkness where it’s a void with only yourself succumbing to lust and there’s no way of returning back to the light. Now, with Eunbi leading the way, you whisper to yourself how great this can be as adrenaline is now pumping down your veins, anticipation finally kicking in to you as the night is still young and it’s only going to start.

---

“Has a man done this to you, Hyewon?” Eunbi traces her dainty fingers up Hyewon’s thighs as she faintly whimper due to the sudden sensitivity she has been teasing her, and for not so long too, Eunbi averted her attention towards you, and voiced exactly what Hyewon wants and with foreplay building up, it should start small.

“What is it, Eunbi?”

“Well, can you stand and then lean against that wall, babe? Thanks, and Hyewon, kneel down in front of him.” Eunbi’s commands didn’t go deaf on both your ears and Hyewon’s as you immediately obliged to her imperative advances. Knowing the words that escaped her lips, you knew exactly what Hyewon would want as you reassure her as she still feels shy but you can see the lust behind it, and it’s only going to get better from here.

“I guess you probably know what she’ll do, babe.”

“Hah—of course I do, Hyewon kneeling down here is pretty obvious.” You respond hubristically and with your confidence and willingness about the anticipating turn of events, Hyewon faintly smiles because of the sudden surge of serotonin spiking up, feeling really confident on what she’s about to show you.

“Aren’t you going to join, Eunbi?”

Eunbi clicks her tongue, cock an eyebrow to you as she smirks, “Well, about that, I would like to observe how Hyewon does it. I’d like to give her everything I always loved and Hyewonnie—” She then squatted to become in level with Hyewon, uttering such words that could enhance the possible masterclass that Hyewon will do. “—don’t rush and make my baby feel good, okay? The most important thing here is the both of you getting pleasured and delighted.”

Eunbi’s such an incredible instructor—you mutter upon yourself as it’s always evident whenever she teaches something to someone or even just you. You love how eager and conspicuous her happiness is when it’s for the better of the people she’s attached with—it feels like she’s a gift from heaven, an angel in disguise as she’s too down-on-earth yet you know deep inside those genuine smiles of hers are the primal lust that she’s been consumed onto, and it’s not even an effort knowing it with the refulgent shining of her orns, full of lust and wants.

“You gotta undress his bottom-half first, Hyewon—I guess you know how to do it right.” With Eunbi’s command comes an immediate obligatory response: you can just see Hyewon’s hands working on unbuckling your belt and the buttons of your pants. You can see her hands shaking a little, knowing it’s her nervousness and to ease her up a little, you helped her to undress your defenses one by one yet Eunbi isn’t a fan of this, clicking her tongue and calling you out.

“Babe, let Hyewon do the job, alright? Just relax and enjoy the show.”

With Eunbi’s straight remarks, Hyewon confirms that she can finish her job herself and doesn’t need your help as she also wanted you to just indulge and voice out your satisfaction.

“You sure, Hyewon?”

“Y-Yes, oppa—I can do this…”

Now with your pants on your ankles, Hyewon’s eyes lit up with the erecting shaft that’s been captivating her under those frustrating garments, and to reassure her further, Eunbi gave her words of encouragement, saying it’s all going to be fine.

“I know this is crazy, Hyewon but trust me—he likes it, alright? All you need to do is to show us how great you can be. Consider this as your training.”

Even though Hyewon is not naïve in these kinds of situations, it still shows how nervous and how she lacks experience but nonetheless, you’re confident that she’ll do good yet you won’t get your expectations high—maybe, a little part of you may swallow those words once she latched her mouth on your swollen head but an action preceding your expectations will conclude your judgment.

Now grabbing the hem of your boxers, Hyewon undresses it as it goes down to your ankles and god, she’s eyeing your meat like she’s going to devour it as her eyes glistening with hunger and lust says enough. Her gorgeous, black orbs analyzes every length that she sees as she coos in amazement, genuinely excited on how your length could feel inside and most importantly, how incredible it looks in front of her.

“Oh my god, unnie…” Hyewon slowly palmed your thighs as she’s still flummoxed with your length, unable to articulate anything but just in awe. “He’s so big…”

Eunbi chuckles as she bites her lips right after, worshiping your succulent meat right on her sight with only her eyes. “He’s indeed big, Hyewon. That’s the most perfect cock you’ll ever laid your eyes upon and you’ll see why I’m so addicted to it…”

Giving the green light to Hyewon, she then wrapped her digits around your rod, feeling how its warmth already made you euphoric as she stroked it a little, a faint moan escaping your lips because of it.

“I’d consider lubricating his shaft with your saliva, Hyewon. You wouldn’t want a man you’re sucking to have a painful burn with rough strokes.” Eunbi suggests towards Hyewon as she’s absolutely right—rough strokes are the bane of your existence as lubrication will make anything feel a hundred times better. With all of that, Hyewon managed to still question something that makes Eunbi a little bit confused.

“But isn’t it not too bad if I stroked it like that, unnie?”

“It’s never bad but the lubrication is still needed, of course. It helps the man and the won’t just excrete fluids on their own. Also—” Eunbi pointed out the slit of your swollen head, leaking with that colorless liquid and with that in sight, she wouldn’t want Hyewon to waste a single drop off that.

“There you go, trace a little of that and taste it. You could suck it if you want more intimacy, Hyewon.”

“Ooh~” Hyewon coos, finding it gratifying tasting one of your treasured nectars as she licks her index finger clean after collecting a desirable amount.

“How did it taste, Hyewon?” Eunbi’s interest is piqued as Hyewon can’t stop squealing, too focused on admiring your shaft with leisure strokes and playful swipes on your head.

“A bit salty, unnie—I like it.” Without wasting any time with just collecting and teasing, her lips then part onto your shaft as she planted wet kisses onto every inch of it, not leaving anything blessed with her intimate pecks. She grew impatient due to her hunger for cock, and eventually, she latched her lips onto your swillen cockhead and started sucking it, your sensitivity now off the roof as it’s actually great considering how much pleasurable it was than what you expected. She swirls her tongue to add up to the heat of the moment and god, she’s a natural at this as she alternates between doing that and sucking just the tip, leaving small streams of saliva on your shaft and some on the corners of her mouth.

With the constant flicks of her tongue onto the frenulum and then going deeper as she gives in to her debauchery masterclass, Hyewon is a gifted woman with a gifted mouth, and she can make you moan like Eunbi can, then it’s just safe to say that she’s incredible at giving you head yet this is only the beginning of a spectacular show that’s about to unfold.

“Such a natural, hm, Hyewon? Why don’t you try and go deeper, hm?” Eunbi fixes her beautifully-tied pigtails, gaining a better leverage onto instructing Hyewon. “He loves it whenever I go deep and hear those moans he makes? That means he’s loving this, so, keep it up…”

Wanting to go deeper herself, she tries what Eunbi wanted her to do as greed took over her, taking your whole length slowly as she bobs her head frantically, eventually gagging on the spot. It’s becoming too much for Hyewon and with that, such a euphoric session has been abruptly stopped, herself ejecting out of your length as she coughs a little, becoming too risky to take it whole and greed putting a nail to the coffin.

“Hyewon, you shouldn’t take his cock like that deep immediately. You should be slow and patient and work your way deeper.” Eunbi caresses Hyewon’s hair as she reassures her and knowing Hyewon wouldn’t give up that easily, she opted to take you in again and following Eunbi’s advice for extreme pleasure and gratification between the both of you. Now, with her patience taking over her, she laps her tongue onto to your tip and took only half of your length in which, resulted into your brain going haywire again due to the pillowy softness of her mouth and the warmth enveloping over it—not to mention the hint of pain cause by the serrated culprit, which is her teeth that lives up to your guilty pleasure of masochism.

She bobs her head at such a moderate pace, unlike the greed earlier that made her suffer from her actions as every second that passes is savored between the both of you, each of your carnal desires slowly corrupting the both of you, descending towards the darkness—that damn darkness akin to the lustful void you’ve dived yourself into. Her hands aren’t idle as she knew the basic fundamentals of a great blowjob: to fondle your balls with care as a little stimulation is enough to make your knees weak and her warm palm sharing its emanating heat within your skin, caressing it slowly as her touch is as tantamount as her mouth giving away the greatest gratification possible. Eunbi is in awe on how she’s doing an incredible job, slobbering all over your length and slurping on it like she’s been deprived on it for months now—technically, that’s the case and whether it’s figurative or literal, it’s always evident how a girl is hungry for something with the sounds that resonates around your ear.

“God, you look so fucking hot sucking his dick, Hyewonnie. Look at yourself too—” Eunbi averted her eyes towards the mess Hyewon has created all over her clothes, her cleavage and her mouth, such drool capable for any person to think how much Hyewon is enjoying the succulent taste of your shaft as Eunbi was right, Hyewon’s going to be addicted by this for dear life. Eunbi continues to stroke Hyewon’s dark locks as she praises her because of her incredible work and with her confidence going up, she’s now introducing an incredible pace as she hollows her cheeks for a vacuum-like suction, taking more than a half of your length now and frantically bobbing her head, signaling how she’s giving in to primal urges and desires. She slobbered all over your dick like it’s her last, and savored every moment of it, even if it means for her to gag multiple times yet even though she fights the urge to pull out, she inevitably can’t as she ejects her warm mouth out of your raging length, coughing a little as the mess she’s made is now copious than it was earlier—her lipstick smudging onto the vicinity of the base of your shaft, strings of saliva connected onto your swollen head and then her mouth, and her makeup running down her cheeks due to the tears of her constant gags from earlier, making her a disheveled mess.

“You a-alright, Hyewon?” You grew concerned as she seems struggling to breathe because of her hostile nature on slobbering over your length that oxygen became the profound enemy yet she states that she’s fine, and that makes sigh in relief.

“Oppa’s c-cock is just too b-big to handle…”

Eunbi laughs as she smiles at Hyewon, knowing that she’ll soon say that as it’s damn true—even Eunbi struggles to tame that beast within you, even with plethora of times that she’s taken you down her throat, she still constantly struggles due to the gifted length and girth you have. Of course, not even Hyewon complains but rather, loving it because of how she can manage to push her limits off to what she can possibly do, and you, a great example to help her with that.

“It’s alright, Hyewon. You’re a natural at this—keep that up and make him cum, alright? I know he’s pretty close…” Eunbi cocks an eyebrow at Hyewon, signaling her to give everything she has as you know you’re near on your release yourself—and it’s pretty impressive how Eunbi knows how near your approaching orgasmic trance will be, considering how your relationship and herself knowing tiny details about you makes up to her accurate prediction. Maybe it’s not even a prediction at this point, more so, a gut feeling and the visible throbbing of your shaft making her know of your near release and god, it’s just awfully close.

Hyewon isn’t just going to stare at your dick like it’s a long-lost artifact she piqued her interest in, yet instead, she converts that arousal into actions as she continues to suck you off, like a popsicle that can’t get enough. With her constant fondling of your sensitive balls and her ruthless pace onto your shaft, you can’t possibly contain the profanities escaping your mouth as you voice how great Hyewon’s oral service is and with those green lights being muttered, she picks up the pace and further brings you in closer to your high. Her feverish strokes onto the base of your shaft further puts you on the edge of release as Eunbi encourages Hyewon to keep up the good work as she bites her lip in satisfaction, feeling gratified with erotic sight of Hyewon gagging and slobbering over his boyfriend’s perfect cock.

“Also, Hyewon, make eye contact with him. That’s important because with your eyes, you can portray multiple emotions all at once.” Such striking details won’t get passed by Eunbi’s judgmental approach towards the eroticism the both of you emanate and again, it’s goddamn true—such an intimate and endearing look between the both of you can indeed portray a plethora of emotions that can rather increase the quality of pleasure. With Eunbi’s advice, Hyewon then locks her gaze onto yours as all you can see is how engaged she is, full of lust as every bob portrays her willingness to do this and your anticipated load.

It wouldn’t last that long even if you want to savor her warmth for hours as suddenly, your dam broke loose.

“Fuck, I’m g-gonna cum, Hyewon, Eunbi—fuck, shit!”

Now with Hyewon still blowing you with a ruthless face, Eunbi formulates an idea faster than the speed of light as her oral expertise comes into play, offering a proposition. “Pull out if you want him to paint your face or keep bobbing if you want his load deep down your throat, okay, Hyewon?”

Hyewon eagerly nods as she keeps sucking you off, signaling that she wants your load as deep as possible. She then submerges her whole mouth onto your length, up to the back of her throat as she gags constantly but Eunbi guides her, her hands pushing Hyewon’s head until her lips meet the base of your shaft, reaching incredible depths that she thought was nigh-impossible. Now, with Hyewon’s hands gripping your thighs onto dear life and her tight throat constricting around your length, you couldn’t hold it much longer as you shoot thick spurt if your delectable seed, filling it up to the brim as she takes it all like a good girl, despite her constant gagging and her breaths being restricted because of your whole length. Eunbi didn’t influence much, as she lets go of her grip on Hyewon’s head as soon as you voice out your blissful release and ultimately, you do short thrusts into her mouth to keep your orgasm extended but the inevitable will soon happen as it slowly dies, catching your breath from your euphoric trance. Hyewon then pulls out immediately as Eunbi directs her to not swallow it yet and commends her excellent blowjob yet of course, Eunbi not utterly impressed (she still appreciates Hyewon’s efforts but not that much) as she didn’t get her expectation up, since Hyewon isn’t really used to this but nonetheless, she showed her great capabilities and her natural talent.

“Don’t swallow and stick your tongue out to him. Show him the healthy load he has given you.” Again, for like the hundredth time, Hyewon does as she's been told, sticking out her tongue towards you as she’s proud about the creamy load you gave her and with her innocent eyes building up the oxymoron of this filthy mess she has gone into. Now, incredibly aroused and in awe with her beautiful, disheveled visage, you then commanded her to swallow as Eunbi didn’t mind it, knowing you have the control over her too and god, her face and its expression after eagerly swallowing your creamy load is such an arousing as you couldn’t ask more.

This was just one of the few things they have up their sleeve and you’re absolutely into the game, wanting more as your carnal desires are the obvious culprits of your horniness.

“Did it taste good, Hyewon?”

“It d-does, unnie—it’s so creamy and a l-little sweet…” She replies back with a faint smile on her face, still catching her breath due to the intense blowjob session that has ensued.

“Hyewon—I c-can’t believe you’re a natural at this.” Of course, you can’t really comprehend how good she is as you didn’t expect her to be this daring and great and you wouldn’t complain for various and obvious reasons. With your compliment, Hyewon blushed a little as she felt grateful being constantly acknowledged with her skills yet of course, you can see the lust burning on her eyes as she wanted more, and you wouldn’t dare to really stop her on that because you wanted more yourself.

“Well, maybe it’s time for the main event, babe…” Eunbi then stood up from her previous kneeling position as Hyewon does it too right after, knowing what the future may hold once Eunbi said those specific words.

“Are you sure with this, Hyewon?” You still feign hesitance, knowing that it may seem uncomfortable with Hyewon and maybe even Eunbi that you’re going to have some filthy sex with her friend yet all of your thoughts contradicts on what they want—Eunbi insisted you to have her own permission for the best experience for her friend and Hyewon, starting this alone means that she’s comfortable with you and it grew better considering how your small moans of pleasure increased her confidence and your reassurance that made her feel better.

“See, Hyewon wants it, babe—don’t keep her waiting.” Noticing how eager Hyewon had been, she then puts a little bit of a show in front of you, stripping her clothing so leisurely that it’s agonizing to watch considering you want to see her impeccable features badly, as soon as possible. Knowing this, Eunbi has a different thought in mind and decides to step in to the show, interrupting her Hyewon’s spectacular masterclass as you frowned a little because of it.

“No, Hyewon, I think my baby needs to strip for you, how about that?” Being enlightened with Eunbi’s proposition, Hyewon herself can’t really turn that down because that thought alone arouses her, and with her pleading eyes captivating you to do what Eunbi has told, you didn’t hesitate to fulfill everyone’s needs as you came up to Hyewon, inching dangerously close towards her as you palm the straps of her brown, cotton dress and lets gravity do the work, letting it run a little, dropping it below her shoulders. You can feel her hot breath against yours as she voiced her satisfaction with the way you’re stripping her—slowly and surely, unbuttoning her dress one by one as you whisper how good she's been earlier and in return, she voice how juicy and addicting you were.

“I guess you’re so gifted, oppa—your cock is amazing—oh fuck…”

“You’re a natural too, Hyewon. Maybe a few more improvements then you’ll be on par like your unnie.”

With the heated tension between the both of you, Eunbi manages to bat out how incredibly arousing the sight is, sharing how that’s probably the sight between you and Eunbi everytime the both of you get sexually heated against each other.

“That’s how hot we probably look when we get heated, right, babe?”

“Yeah, Eunbi—kinda want to see the sight too but I guess I don’t need it anymore.” Well, it’s evident and obvious because you’re literally in the front seat of a splendid show between you and Hyewon. Now, with the last button restraining her to let her impeccable beauty be visible with your eye, you slowly unbuttoned and god, you’re instantly blessed with her hourglass figure and a scrumptious sight of her tight body: slender, small waist flexing a little of her abdominal muscles, her perky yet large mounds that’s been contained with a brown, strapless bra and her probably dripping pussy covered with a brown-laced thong, that’s complimenting the colors of her outfit. You were starstrucked with her incredible figure as much as Eunbi is, and with that, you can’t help but palm her hips and admire every inch of her delectable features, probably mouth-watering at the sight of it and imprinting a picture on your mind.

“Foreplay is part of having a great session of sex, Hyewon. So, if he caresses and feels her touch all over your body, feel free to voice out how good it is, okay?”

Hyewon nods as you start to strip the last defenses concealing her pure beauty, flicking and letting everything run from her smooth skin and gravity doing the work. With her last bit of clothing now onto the floor, deeming it useless, you take a look to admire her beautiful features again but this time, her apparent nipples and her glistening pussy is now visible, making you even riled up as your cock inevitably twitches from the sight. You then undress your clothing, making everything mutual between the both of you and as you do so, you ask Eunbi another question that will surely intrigue her and make everything even spicier.

“Don’t you want to join us, Eunbi?”

“Yeah, unnie—it would be really good if you join us here with us.‘

As much as Eunbi wants to join, there are two things that are stopping her from her desires and it’s for the better on all parties: firstly, she wanted to instruct Hyewon what’s the best ways to make the session best for both worlds and some techniques that can make her a greater fuck; and second, she badly wanted to watch someone having sex and any sexual activities as that thought (not anymore) turns her on incredibly well that she just wants to watch everything unfolds within her eyes’ reach—talk about peak voyeurism, then its paramount on her mind right now.

“I’d rather watch and make the best of Hyewon, but thanks though—hey, proceed, babe…”

You’re quicker than a predator catching prey, your clothes now off and deeming it useless as you approach Hyewon, pinning her slowly as you grasp her waist and onto the bed. Hyewon trusts you with all her heart as her eyes glistens with need and you immediately can sense how much she wanted this for a long time, so, without depriving her from your touch, you brush your swollen head onto her labia, teasing her as she cries in her own sensitivity and utmost pleasure. Wanting to build up the anticipation and to be gentle with her, you further tease her glistening lips and this time, adding some fingers to stimulate her further, her moans now increasing in volume because of the pleasure coursing down her veins.

“May I, Hyewon?” Your hands then coursed its way onto the bedsheets and then, towards her stomach, as you asked her permission for mutual understanding and agreement.

“Please d-do, oppa—oh gosh, fu—fuck…” Given the green light, you immediately palmed a handful of her breasts as you fondle them, caressing her mounds and feeling its softness is such an addicting act and with that, you can’t really find yourself to let go of it and continue what you’re best at. Her moans really fuels you to let out your deepest desires, stimulating her further as you latch your mouth onto her neck, giving it small pecks that lets her know how much you’re loving this and of course, to further elevate the heat emanating around the bedroom.

“Let it all out, Hyewon—let your voice be the fuel for him to further fuck you and babe—” Eunbi palms your skin, from the back as she leisurely ran her hands down your buttcheeks, caressing it as her touch further arouses you. She didn’t waste a single second and voice out what’s the best for the both of you. “—give her the fucking she absolutely deserves, alright? Want to see how you’ll ruin an incredibly beautiful girl like her…”

With Eunbi’s green light and the urge to further indulge to your own primal debauchery, you further inform Hyewon that it’s about time for the climax as she doesn't even hesitate to nod and agree and with a single flash of light, you plunge your length slowly inside her. The both of you groaned in the mix of pain and pleasure, as each other’s elements of a great, pleasurable intercourse checks all boxes and it’s just way too euphoric to be true. You now start to ensue such a sluggish pace, moving your hips in tandem with her angelic moans that bless everybody’s ears as you grasp her shoulders for a leverage onto a better quality of your thrusts.

“God—Hyewon, you’re so fucking tight—oh fuck!”

“You’re b-big too, oppa—ahh, oh my—ahh, fuck!!”

As you voice out such intense spikes of pleasure and lustful feeling against each other, Eunbi then voiced how incredible the sight is and how goddamn arousing to watch your length suddenly disappearing inside her wet folds as it hypnotizes her, the slow movements you’re ensuing finally making her realize how hot to watch sex scenes with you are.

“Damn, babe—look at her eyes. She’s starting to see stars at this point, god—also, keep that pace for now babe and Hyewon—” Hyewon then averted her eyes towards Eunbi that just had joined on the bed, feeling too much pleasure and drowsy as Eunbi stroked her hair again, making her feel reassured that she’s taking you well and that alone, makes her plant a smile of satisfaction. “—you’re doing good, okay? Keep that up and it’s only to get better from here.”

She then holds your arms for leverage to fight the pleasure and to further admire the filthy mess that has been created since the time you’ve plunged your entire length in her. The constant jiggles of her buttcheeks and her thighs makes such an arousing sight as it hypnotizes you and to top off with that, her cunt spills her treasured nectar very often that it’s getting much easier to thrust inside her in an incredible pace and of course, to coat the vicinity of your nether regions with Hyewon’s own fluids. With a newly-profound pace, you kept your mind clouded onto giving her such a spectacular feeling as every thrust does wonder on both your brains, mostly Hyewon’s since it has been a while since she had one and god, the faces she makes and the eye contact she does whenever you withdraw, and then slammed back in her is alluring and arousing.

With a paramount of an erotic sight being done thanks for the both of you, Eunbi can’t even help herself from getting turned on and decided to take this as an opportunity to derive pleasure from it. You didn’t even see Eunbi, nor even sense her stripping her clothing as you’re too busy giving Hyewon such hammering thrusts that makes her escape more alluring and sexy moans that just add up to the gasoline of the flames of lust inside you. Because of your rampant oscillations, Hyewon couldn’t contain anything as she’s on the verge of screaming because of the incredible surge of pleasure running down on her. She then wrapped her legs all around your waist in order to lock in with your thrusts and to not pull out, wanting her cunt constantly rammed in with your whole length as the wet squelching of it even adds to the symphony of erotic sounds that became music to each other’s ears.

With such a sinful sight of event turning into a pandemonium of filthy events and cacophonous sounds of moans and groans, it wouldn’t take long for the room to get heated up onto its hottest state as the constant clashing of bodies became apparent and made such a big difference. You didn’t even got the chance to know if Eunbi is still there on your back, watching the both of you—maybe even her presence alone—as you became so invested with Hyewon’s tight cunt that you could literally fuck her for days.

Well, that could be possible but we don’t know if Eunbi can even agree on that, or maybe even Hyewon herself.

“Fuck m-me harder, oppa—please—fuck!!”

You then double the efforts of your thrusts as her legs pull you even closer towards hers, initiating an intimate kiss that made her realize how she’s been deprived of this and how badly she wanted this. You immediately reciprocate onto the kiss as Eunbi even encourages the both of you to up the ante of the liplock, now sharing such intimacy and torrid pecks that further heats up the environment of this puny room.

“Love how his lips feel, Hyewon?” Eunbi asks with a smirk painting her face and eagerly, Hyewon nodded as it became the immediate response from hers as they completely indulge into the intimacy of the kiss but eventually, they pull out because of the oxygen running out. You didn’t waste time as you came back to your original pace, withdrawing with only the tip inside and then slamming back in, making her whimper in need and the utmost pleasure. You then thrust in her hard enough for your balls to slap against her constantly clenching puckered hole as you eye onto it, wanting that to be the next target as the thought of railing her from behind and fucking her ass is such an arousing though—well, you should probably focus on further onslaught of harsh thrusts into Hyewon’s wet, tight hole begging for another load because of its constant clenches.

You know how close she is as Eunbi can sense it too—her constant whimper in need and her eyes begging to sully her are one of the strongest evidences that someone fully-indulge themselves onto their own carnal desires and soon enough, she will be gifted because you can feel that familiar sensation in your loins knocking onto the door of your damn, about to break it apart and let everything loose again.

“Fuck her harder, baby—she’s about to cum and look at her—fuck, you look so fucking hot getting fucked into oblivion, Hyewon.”

Hyewon can’t really articulate to say anything now as the pleasure she’s been experiencing is on it's all-time high—you couldn’t blame her and neither can Eunbi: herself getting pounded into an absolute state of bliss is an evident reason for her unable to think straight and knowing the inevitable will soon come, you gave her the best final thrusts your hips can muster.

“Oppa—I’m g-gonna c-cum—ahh, fuck!!”

“God—m-me too, Hyewon—fuck, this pussy is—ahh, fuck!”

Eunbi is in utter shock, is surprised with two things—she didn’t think that Hyewon would last this long with an incredible dick of yours and second and this is where she was genuinely surprised, is the fact that you’re going to cum pretty earlier than what she expected.

Enough of that talk, with a few more thrusts, Hyewon immediately moaned out beautifully as she voices her euphoric high, creaming onto your cock like it’s her last as her thighs quiver in every spasm she does when attaining her orgasm. Her nectar immediately coated everything in its vicinity: the bed sheets, your balls, your constantly-pumping length and both of your thighs and clearly too arousing to handle and it’s such a sight to behold and treasure. Your high, didn’t come late as she locks her legs around your waist, wanting you to fill her up to the hilt as you do so, burying your entire length in her as you let out series of pleasure-laced moans and of course, shooting thick shots of your seed inside her tight, velvety cunt. You could just feel yourself submerging onto the euphoric state of bliss, the highest amongst all gratification as you can’t comprehend how good it felt and after it slowly died, you slowly pulled out of her tightness and watch your hard work seep out of her freshly-fucked pussy.

“God—t-that was a lot, babe…”

After comprehending the sudden pleasure you just indulge yourself into, you then quickly come back to your senses as when you’re going to apologize, Hyewon interrupts you with a reassuring smile as she wanted this all along.

“Don’t w-worry, oppa—I wanted this and I took a pill before t-this.”

So, she knew this may work long ago? Why did Eunbi get to make it clandestine against you?—These thoughts wander around your brain yet dismiss them as soon as you see how a show-stopper Hyewon’s sight is: completely ruined, a disheveled mess and enervated because of your own doings. Knowing how great Hyewon took you in, Eunbi smiled at her proudly, happy for her to experience such an elevating act that’s more than greatness thanks to you.

“It feels good right, Hyewon?”

“Yeah, u-unnie—hah, oppa’s so good…” Hyewon exasperatedly voiced out how great the session was as she fell limp, recovering from her recent high all achieved thanks to you. Eunbi then smiled at you with glee because of what you gave her friend for and she’s happy that everybody’s needs has been fulfilled yet of course, Eunbi herself wouldn’t just be the audience of your own show, she would like to be the part of it and there’s no better feeling in the whole world rather than fulfilling such needs of these hot women in front of you and maybe, it’s just going to get better from here.

“You can lay down, Hyewon and watch us—” Eunbi undresses her clothes swiftly as she brushes her hair hubristically as her confidence peaks off the roof. “—because I’ll show you how real freaks get to fuck each other.”

Well, of course, it’ll end up here and like you said earlier, the night is still young and with that being said, maybe everything is just going to get better from here as there’s more opportunities up your sleeves and it will all start within somebody.

#kinknuary 2024 #kang hyewon smut #hyewon smut #kwon eunbi smut #eunbi smut #kang hyewon x male reader #hyewon x male reader #kwon eunbi x male reader #eunbi x male reader

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tarjapearce · 3 days

Text

Heathens (Pt. 2)

Priest! Miguel O'Hara x Nun! Reader

Art by @mar_mar0u in X

WARNINGS: MINORS DO NOT INTERACT. Religious topics, Corruption Kink, Oral in holy places (Male receiving) Fingering, implicit Breeding kink, Angst, violence (Whipping, and other physical injuries) Character background, sexual and mutual pining, power dynamics, not proofread.

Summary: Father Miguel is growing tired of his beatific life.

A|N : reblogs and feedback fuel me :'). Thanks in advance.

Previous Spanish Version

Miguel tried, tried with all his might to fool himself. It was one of those things he excelled at like no other.

The war won't reach us.

He'd always mumble to his coworkers back at the machinery factory. A place he was designated after failing thr recruitment's medical tests. On purpose.

He faked his eye sight terrible and a slurred speech enough for the doctors to deem him a failing specimen that wouldn't last for more than days, in a war that had brought nothing but calamit to everyone involved.

People barely spoke to him at the factory, which played off perfect. He did his job, none bothered him except for reaching things too far of reach, and he got home safe.

A lanky man that slowly but surely developed his brawns within the heavy duty line. His job was to fix and assemble motors that would end up in cars, planes, ships and whatever medium used to destroy the enemy.

Part of Nueva York was already destroyed. The echelons in society blurred to the point of subduing everyone under the same category in the neighbor states. Refugees.

The church played an important part as they took as many as they could under their beatific walls.

Miguel wasn't a devote believer, but respected the business enough to help whenever they required it in his little town. Anyone who helped others in need had his respect.

If the church needed a new roof to harbor in more refugees, he and other men would make it. The innate feeling of helping and guiding others was something the Church's Father always complimented.

He explained Miguel what would he do in case he turned himself to God and follow a path of holy life. But no matter how much the Father spoke, his ties to the world and it's pleasures were too much to give up.

Miguel had all the qualities of being the perfect Father, but how could he consider such thing when the woman underneath him, writhed while clawing at his back, and begged the heavens above for him to not stop? Begged him to plow harder within her drenched and spasming walls over and over?

A Father would never do that. He didn't care if he was called basic for wanting sex. He didn't care if he was called greedy for wanting a nice car and a little property in a secluded area in the outskirts of Roeville.

And he definitely didn't care if he was called thoughtless for wanting a little family in the admist of chaos. Someone to get home to. Cause again, a Church's father would never. They could never do such things. If anything, he'd fulfill the lord's command of multiplying one day.

He was more than happy as he was, living a relatively innocuous life.

The war won't reach us.

A lie he fed himself to the point of turning it into his personal mantra. And when none else that those three words came into the town, in the shape of armored rebels, destroying everything he had worked for so hard, Miguel knew a decision needed to be done.

He took the remaining survivors out and guided them away from cruel eyes that wouldn't doubt into recruiting them into their madness.

He might have escaped the elite pass to a major scale war, but he often forgot about the opposition. The opportunists that would gain power in the right hands of ignorant and bloodthirsty people.

The rebels had gone town to town, forcefully recruiting men to join their barracks, to fight against a new order that promised nothing but their rights removed.

Miguel didn't want to know shit about it. He didn't want to partake in a war he didn't start. He didn't want to leave the commodities life had served him so far. In fact, as he guided the people through the frozen river, he begged his neglected friend above to allow him to keep a rather easy life.

But rebels caught up to him, killing those that dared to run away, gaining the immediate end for treason to a cause they've never pledged for. A bullet ricocheted on the six year old boy propped on his shoulders, falling immediately to the glacial waters.

Miguel didn't doubt and pulled the kid out, despite feeling his bones freezing and numbing, and hauled him to the ground. If blood loss didn't kill him, hypothermia would. There was little he could do but offer the child a few words of consolation as he held his feeble and trembling form, drowning in tears; feeling the short life escaping warmly through his fingers.

Shouting, screaming and a couple of shots was all he could discern before an armored man pulled him by the collar, making him drop the boy's body to the ground and kneel. The tip of the man's weapon rested a bit too intimate on his head.

"P-Por favor!" (Please)

Miguel mumbled in between nervous pants snd clattering teeth as his hands rose in defense.

The man interrogated him, in spanish. Where was he from, where were the rest and what did he do. And like an epiphany, his mouth spilled the words not even in his wildest dreams he thought pronouncing.

"Soy... Soy un Padre, de la Parroquia San Buenaventura. Sólo vine a ayudar." (I'm a Father, from San Buenaventura's Parish. I came here to help.)

Said parish had been visited during his childhood and possibly long forgotten and non-existant by now, everything he knew about holy endeavours was thanks to his reluctant catholic upbringing. And it was enough to prolonging his stay in this realm.

"Porqué huiste entonces?" (Why did you run away then?)

"No quiero morir." (I don't wanna die.)

The man scrutinized his soul, but the words had came out his plump mouth with such conviction, it left no room for doubtsto those that wouldn't hesitate in shooting at the minimum sign of lying.

Miguel could be one of those people that could say undoubtedly God has a dark sense of humor. Cause none other than the leader asked him to bless him and his weapons to then take the reduced and mourning group to the nearest church.

And now, almost a decade and holy studies later, he preached the mass to people in town. Donned with the holy robes that would screech with condemning words if people ever knew what crossed his mind every time he laid his eyes on you.

His little lamb. His ever delicious little lamb, awaiting to be corrupted by none other than the wolf himself.

Cause that night, back at his den, corruption had ruled over both of your minds. Not only he had shown you what pleasure was and how you could achieve it on your own, but promised more.

More of him exploring places of your body none had the blessing of doing so before. More of him tasting those areas you only though of a single purpose, but his tongue had proven multi-task. More of that debauchery ritual where you'd finally be his.

With a heavy heart and little words beyond see you soon, you left to your duties, back to the reality. Leaving him alone with a painful and raging boner. Screaming for him to not neglect it that way ever again.

And he tried. By God he was trying to not pull you to a nearby storage room and taste you again. His whole body turned into this needy mass of nerves whenever you stared his way a second too long.

The remaining innocence in you, edged him into fisting his hand around himself and pump into oblivion at night before sleeping. His mind took a recent knack for torturing him.

It reminded him of the first months into his chastity vows, and how close he was into breaking them with a woman that was beyond willing to satisfy her own curiosity regarding priests, but war, his cruel friend; acted as the main motivator to remain within line, since it still waged outside and men were still needed outside to die.

And no matter how many gorgeous women paraded under his radar, his vows remained intact.

Until you showed up, drenched in his door, in dire need of help. Not only had you shaken every promise he was trained to believe, to their very core. But ebbed him to his old sinful ways.

The wolf's pelt was growing too large within the sheep's robe he had disguised himself with, in order to run from a fate that was nothing more than a premature death.

The parishioner's voice snapped him out of his darkening thoughts, he dictated a penance and an absolution prayer, not really caring for the man's sins, cause he was worse. He closed the confessional window and stood to open the door.

Only to find the reason of his impure thoughts before him, sitting on the floor, polishing the altar's candle-snuffer.

His dark pupils were blown wide as your hands stroked with gentle moves the handle. How such mundane task turned his gears for the wrong turn was the proof of your power over him.

His groin twitched when your hand circled around the brass bar and moved up and down the rag to remove as much dust as possible, pumping softly.

"Sister."

His voice came out in a husky mumble he tried to keep in his usual deep tinge. But his composure cracked as soon as you turned around and stared back with those beautiful doe eyes of yours.

He gulped.

"What are you doing, pequeña?"

"Sister Leanne sent me to polish the altar's tool as a punishment for the missing vegetables in the inventory."

You mumbled between nervous laughs. And he chuckled. Of course Sister Leanne would do that. As gentle as the woman was, she didn't hesitate into applying discipline the way she saw fit.

She needed to set an example, even more when she was about to be ascended to Mother Superior or Abess.

"I apologize."

"Whatever for, Father?

"I can't deny part of it it's my fault. As I lead you astray from your original tasks."

A flush crept on your cheeks as soon as your mind flooded with the remnants of that night.

"It was the rain, Father. Not you."

"I thought I told you to not call me that when alone."

"I'm sorry. Some habits are hard to kill."

"And remove."

You swallowed a thick lump. His eyes were already undressing you with his red-ish gleam.

"I... started to wear less layers."

May God have mercy on his soul, cause his need gnawing at his flesh certainly wasn't having it. His chest puffed with a deep inhale

"You were right about them. They're... They're heavy to wear. Makes it impractical for almost everything."

He nodded knowingly as an idea popped in his already tainted and corrupted mind.

"That's true. Robes makes it heavier and slows you down."

"I thought the cassock was lightweight? "

He shook his head and offered you his hand for you to stand up. A hidden invitation to his wicked game. You took it.

"It is when done with the proper materials. Otherwise is heavy." He led you inside the confessional. And closed the door as soon as you were in. Cornering you against the hefty oak doors.

Your breath hitched as soon as his hands placed yours on his chest. A pleased purr rumbled through upon the contact.

"Heavy isn't it?" You nodded while feeling the smooth and thick fibers of cotton, stretching all over his chest underneath your fingertips.

"That's why I don't use layers underneath."

Heat begun pooling in the pit of your stomach, "You don't?

He didn't have to instruct you verbally to confirm such thing. His eyes guided your hands through the map of his body to finally stop inches above his tightened crotch.

His heart crinkled with utter delight upon seeing your eyes widen and blink while admiring him. Hardening even further at every second you weren't touching him.

"It's alright. Don't be ashamed. Knowing one's body is crucial to identify where some sins come from."

He sat at the chair, his throne, with his legs sprawled, the cassock tightened around his well sculpted and worked legs, tightening enough to outline the silhouette of his awakening cock.

The confessional was custom built, and given his height, two people could fit in. And what better use for it than having you inside with him. Trapped between his neverending legs.

"Would you know what to name a man's anatomy, pequeña?"

He removed the fabric belt around his waist to then unbutton the lower part of the cassock. Revealing a set of lighter pants, trapping his erection underneath.

Your eyes shamelessly remained on the happy trail leading to the growing bulge between his legs. Curiosity was definitely taking a choke hold on your brain. Although built big enough for two people average sized, you had to crawl closer between him.

"I believe it's called a... c-cock."

"A cock, yes." He nodded proudly, "And how would you know such thing, Hm?"

He beckoned you closer, holding your chin gently while at it.

"T-There's an anatomy book well hidden in the library. I don't wish to remain completely ignorant to my surroundings, Father."

"Ah, I see." He let the father calling go for this time, cause the surprise in your face was everything a man could get when about to perform one of the most lascivious of acts.

He took himself out, letting his erection to sprung in it's full glory before you.

"Does it looks like the one in the book?"

You shook your head softly. His flushed and engorged tip, twitched upon feeling your breath oh so close to his velvet skin.

"At all."

The rich fragrance of clean soap and woody incense remained in his skin.

"You're allowed to touch."

With a new gulp on your throat and hesitating hands, your fingertips grazed his tip. Earning a little hiss from him. Finally feeling other textures that wasn't his calloused hands.

Curiosity made you take him firmer around the base, his hands enveloped yours and guided you to stroke him, up and down.

Your cheeks flushed even deeper while watching his face contorting in pure bliss. It reminded you the way he looked at you as he was devouring your now tingling flesh.

"Does it feels good?"

He nodded through hazed eyes, urging you to move your hand faster with his own, setting a tortuous tempo.

"Oh, very. Very good." he nodded and panted breathlessly, nails clawing at the cushioned part of his seat.

"Then... why is a sin?"

As much as he wanted to quench your learning thirst and instruct you through it, he couldn't care less about what was a sin and what not. But he could satisfy said interest with a more practical example.

"Open your mouth." He talked as he took his hefty cock and beckoned impossibly closer.

Your clothed chest rested inches away from his inner thighs. Lips parted open and when his tip rubbed between your lips, your tongue moved on its own and swirled on his slit. Earning a shaky whimper from him.

"Dios..." His head was thrown back as you took his whole tip inside. The warmth your lush mouth offered couldn't be compared. His hips bucked and you groaned when another inch was pushed in.

"Keep going, pequeña." He husked as he slid a hand underneath your headdress and took a gentle hold of your nape. With enough pressure he guided you up and down pushing as much cock as he could into your mouth, withdrawing carefully whenever you gagged.

The soft saltine taste bursted all over your taste buds, singing in delight. You were tasting a man. The proper way. You hummed approvingly.

Once more he took himself by the base and slapped your awaiting tongue a couple of times with his tip before pushing in again.

His shaky groans turned into deep and raged pants the more your cheeks hollowed around him, licking and sucking in a pace that had him thrusting his hips softly and melting. His hands didn't know whether to claw or hold on whatever surface they had underneath.

The wet and sloshing noises from your mouth made him dizzy, and your hand squeezing his balls gently wasn't helping. Seeing your eyes filled with the same unmarred lust as his, corroded any rational and holy thought our of his frying brain.

You were dangerous. Oh, so dangerous he could mistake you for the very snake that temped Eve back in Eden, cause your tongue swirled and tasted in the right places like no other, despite being your first time.

And by God, he knew you weren't made for a holy life. You couldn't. He refused to believe you were made for such simple and boring life when you were sucking his demons out with such artistry, he couldn't feel but jealous at the sudden thought of someone else teaching you such things.

No woman had achieved such feat on him before by using solely her mouth.

"Sigue, por favor-" He gulped and bit his lip before a loud moan could escape him. His eyes tried to keep on front watching you, bobbing your head up and down. (Keep it going)

If your mouth was delicious, he couldn't help but wonder, how your insides felt.

Would you be drenched? Would you be tight for him? Would you take him as well as your mouth did? Of course you would. You were using your mouth only and left him yearning for more than that.

His teeth bared as his pants turned even more raged and blown. The soft kisses alternated between kitten kicks and unabashed lapping, bending not only his will, but the urge to hold you in place and have fun with your mouth.

The sight of you being bold and taking him in a go completely, made him explode with an acute, shaking and broken whimper.

"Mnnfuck-" He held you in place while he squeezed the very last drop of his hot cum down your throat. All while you looked at him with drunk, pleasurable eyes as you swallowed him.

His chest heaved and his hand rubbed over his face, awash with raw need. But you didn't stop there.

A low humming rumbled through, reverberating through his skin. Sending another wave of jolts down his spine. His head was spinning a second per hour

"W-Wait..." but you didn't listen, you kept tasting and his teeth clenched, "E-Esperate-" He blabbed and choked, his trembling hand took a firm hold of your headdress and pulled his limping cock out your mouth with a squelching pop.

But your tongue sought him, hungry and hypnotised by his taste.

"Stop- Oh Dios... S... Stop-" you whined as he hunched and rested his forehead against yours, putting his throbbing cock back to it's confinements. His breath fanned over your mouth and kissed you deeply. Drowning any furtive and remaining moans.

His tongue swirled over yours, luring it only for a mischievous suck to be delivered, tasting himself in the process.

"Please" You clung to him, body doused with fire, and his nose heaved deeply, still recovering from what you provoked within. His eyes remained shut for a second, to then seizing you with a tender look.

"Not yet, pequeña."

"Not yet. Then, when?!" You whined impatiently, "If you don't want me anymore just say it!"

He understood your frustration, he really did. With gentle hands he cupped your face.

"I do want you." He pecked your lips, "More than this pretty head of yours refuses to believe. But we must wait."

"I don't want to!" You sniffed and he kissed your head once again, soothing your frustration with feathery kisses. Then he stood and picked you up easily in his arms to finally sit you on his chair.

"If I am to claim you, is cause I'm taking my time to destroy every bit of your mind, understand?"

His hands immediately stirred up the skirt of your habit up to your waist, proving your words true of you wearing less layers, leaving your thighs and cunt bare to him as they were parted and placed on each side of the chair's arms.

With a serpent-like motion, he swept his tongue over his lips, awash with prurience when his gaze remained in your drenched entrance. Drooling and glistening, begging to be taken.

There was something he couldn't truly explain when he had you like that. It played too many good tricks in his dazed mind.

As much as he wanted to bury himself to the hilt, he couldn't. He didn't want you to be marked by a whip and shunned before the whole church as a heathen.

He didn't want you to bear with Cain's mark and be despised by the whole community just cause you gave into a natural need.

Two of his fingers coated in your slick, to then rub ever gently at your needy and throbbing nub of nerves. Gaining him a soft coo.

"I need to take my time to posses every bit of you, dear."

Your mouth gaped and whimpered as he slid inside with a sloshing fwop. Walls immediately etched to his fingers, squeezing him and urging to go deeper.

"You think I don't want to take you right here? " He kissed your lips and then your jaw

His thumb rubbed in slow but firm strokes, applying enough pressure to have you a blabbing mess and tidal waves of pleasure quenching your body's primal need.

His fingers hooking and wriggling inside only earned him a renewed groan. Your hands clutched at the surface behind you, as his fingers delved deeper, meaner and faster. Your frame shook with every stroke he delivered in your weeping walls.

He had to cover your mouth at the lewdness spilling out nonstop of it, to focus on the increasing wetness he provoked in your slurping hole.

A shaky whimper was muffled the more he pumped his fingers into you, grazing that sweet and exquisite spot that got your body trembling and your walls contracting around him in a wicked and debauched symphony. Your head was thrown back, too heavy with lascivious thoughts to function properly.

Mouth parted to whine and eyes remained shut, unable to digest the obscene display of prowess by his fingers. Your tightness increased by every second, signaling your need for release.

"Come"

An order. Disobeying was out of the question. A specific thrust had your spine arching and your soaked hole exploding with something so devastatingly delicious, it had you panting and mewling in heat as you drenched Miguel's hand and forearm completely, he kept prodding and poking at that gummy spot within you. Your nails clawed at the seat, trying to anchor your floating soul to your body.

"Oh my God!" You hiccuped in a garbled moan.

His palm kept your stuttering hips under control, his eyes remained at the spasming muscles within you, trying to keep his fingers inside, sucking, squeezing and milking him.

"Tan perfecta." He crooned while pulling out gently to lick and slurp his fingers clean and kiss you with all his might . (So perfect)

Too enraptured in your taste to hear the approaching steps until too late.

"Father O'Hara?"

The voice from the other side of the wall made both to freeze in place. Your eyes went wide and his grip on your panting mouth tightened.

"Are you there?"

Miguel placed a drenched finger in his lips.

Closing your eyes shut, you both awaited for whoever that had arrived to leave, and once the steps could no longer be heard, he released you.

And you gasped and panted for air and he smirked. Admiring with wickedness at his creation. He could already taste your little cries and whimpers for more of him. And damn him if he was lying if his mind didn't come up with the vilest of fantasies, like defiling you in the altar, at everyone's sight, so they could know the real him and show everyone he had claimed you and what they were missing.

He helped you on your feet and wipe away the thin layer of sweat covering your face with utmost care.

But that side was reserved to none else but you. His beloved lamb.

"Soon, I promise. Okay?"

He kissed your lips deeply, sealing his words with a promise. He was a man of word.

You'd have to wait a bit longer.

----

The dull ache in your lower belly announced your period's arrival. Asking the head of the medical supplies and writing your name in a book was a subtle way to keep the youngsters and women in fertile age in check.

Given the few past experiences with nuns suddenly getting pregnant, security when it came to outings increased. Same for the Parish. Another guard was hired to keep the morning shift in case men came to lurk around.

The parish had a reputation to have beautiful nuns under the roof, even if older.

But since you had your period, no harm approached. You could see a little proud smile in Sister Danielle as you fetched your supplies for the week. Teas, pads, some painkillers and a brand new addition, moist towelettes from the city.

"If you run out of them, come again, alright?"

With a nod, you went to the bathroom and changed. You washed your hands and walked back to where Sister Leanne was, to tell her about your condition.

Cause in truth, you felt tired, pained and exhausted. Your face lit up upon seeing her.

"May we speak?"

"Not now. Discipline calls me."

Quirking a brow you looked at her while watching a trail of nuns behind her. One with a slender guava stick, another with a bucket in water, and the other with a rope.

"W-What's going on?"

"Come and see."

You weren't the only one that followed them. A group of nuns giggled, as they whispered hushed secrets to eachother.

Your fingers wrapped around your cross while following the rest, like a dutiful sheep.

To your surprise another nun was held as her sleeve was slit open, on both arms. The woman cried for mercy and soon she was pushed forward before the circle of nuns and Miguel that showed up alarmed.

"You have sinned!"

Sister Leanne begun with a commanding voice. even though Miguel was the Father, he had little to do with the nun's management.

Your mother figure pulled the crying woman's arm, showing a bruising a couple of inches away from her elbow.

"This woman has corrupted her body, the temple of Jesus Christ! With contraceptives!"

A collective round of gasps were heard through the nuns. Contraceptives, same as sex were the highest forms of faults within the Parish. Specially within the convent.

"Not only you poison your body with mundane pieces, but break your vows, just to obey your flesh's whims." Leanne spat with venom.

The poor woman was tied up against a post. Her habit was torn in the back, to expose her temporary unmarred, milky white skin. She begged for forgiveness as water was doused over her.

The first hit made you look away and cover your mouth, a sudden fear rose in the back of your throat.

His need of waiting was more than reasonable now.

This was one the motives why Miguel hadn't taken you yet. And seeing the poor woman writhe in pain and beg for her life, made you remind him of his words.

You had been so neck deep in wanting him that had forgotten completely about the consequences of your forbidden meetings.

The women's cries and pleas were muffled by the aggressive whistle the stick did everytime it swung to strike down and mark her over and over.

Your gaze locked with Miguel's briefly. His eyes said it all.

Now you understand?

As quickly as your eyes met him, you tore your gaze away. Too afraid of the possible lash out for simply looking at him.

A surge of cramps and the newly reached levels of stress had you folding over. His face fell upon the pain in yours. The supplies in your hands were self explanatory. Periods weren't something new to him, after all he took care of the women under his unit in the factory cause the rest was too stupid and scared to do something.

And as much as he wanted to approach and see if you were alright, he didn't want the situation to be mistaken for something else and draw unnecessary attention towards you both.

He felt a coward, but it also fueled his hate for the life he chose in order to save himself.

Once the punishment was finished, the woman was untied and taken to the infirmary. Sister Leanne looked at you

"What is you wanted to talk to me about?"

"My period."

"What about it?" Her voice accused with a frown, still on edge.

"I just asked Sister Danielle for my supplies." She heaved, relieved.

"Good. Good." She sighed and rubbed her face, "I want you to know that I'm not proud of the things I must do. But someone has to."

"I know."

"Please don't ever dare to betray me that way, okay?"

The stung in your chest just bloomed deeper with guiltiness.

What if I'm already doing it?

You nodded, gaining a hug from the woman that raised you, in order to ground herself from the sudden rage that took over her emotional panel of control.

Would you whip me too? Would you make me bleed?

"Go rest. I'll get you some food, alright?"

---

It had been days since either of you approached each other. The raw display of consequences of a failed secret affair was the culprit of the distance that grew wider and wider between the both.

It was a forceful reminder of what laid ahead if you ever got caught. Miguel knew how much the new Mother Superior loved you.

He always heard at dinner with the higher ranks the endless stories about you as a teenager. Precocious and daring. Nothing alike to the tame and demure woman he had already tasted twice.

Would she hate him for corrupting her little and perfect sheep? Absolutely. Maybe would whip him too if she could.

The thought alone made him chuckle.

The silence on both ends made him reflect in so many things he thought long forgotten.

A child's random laugh during a baptizing had brought to life that buried yearn. The way the little human stared at him with a toothless grin on their face sent his heart into a frenzy.

In fact, he always reminisced in the many families that paraded proudly on church. Displaying their affection, laughs and others that only echoed in the solitude of his residence outside the Parish.

There was none waiting for him, no little human screeching in happiness upon hid arrival, and no partner to share his daily adventures on his modest job. There wasn't nothing like that for him.

Just endless hours of praying, visiting the sick, bible studies, hypocritical speeches on how people act and behave with those around him and how to not succumb into the temptation, like he did.

He was the biggest hypocrite under the heavenly roof and everyone adored him. Congratulated and asked for tips on how to be more like him.

If he could, he'd say drink a beer every day and fuck a lovely woman whenever time allowed. But instead his mouth spilled the most ridiculous things such as keep your mind focused and away from trouble.

But he wanted trouble. He wanted that trouble to mewl and writhe underneath. He wanted that trouble to squeeze him to death as he came inside. And definitely he wanted that trouble to swell with his child.

Ten years in this lie had been more than enough for him. War had been long gone, everyone had moved on in the city. Mostly had families. But he...

His hand pinched the bridge of his nose.

Secularisation wasn't an option, since his name was already in many churches and abbeys and running away would imply to spend most of the savings he had done so far. Priest life paid shit, but if this neverending lie had taught him something, was to be more financially wise. And thanks to that, he could afford a home somewhere in the rural areas, away from prying eyes and judging glares.

He had enough of the white rectangle around his neck and the stupid golden ring on his finger dictating how to live his life. Even though God had granted him his wish of having a simple life, he didn't want it anymore.

He wanted it his way. And as entitled and selfish as the thought was, he deserved a forever break from his duties. He knew what he wanted.

He knew what he needed. And he needed you. He missed you. He wanted you to be his problem.

At first he thought it was the lack of contact and other people to talk to, but seeing you so scared back at the public whipping and your need to know more about the world, only reinforced his decision into making you his.

He could take you see places and explain things if you wanted. He could take you anywhere you wanted to. He could please you the times he saw fit without the fear of someone spying or you getting hurt by those that pledged a servitude oath.

Miguel knew what the nuns did to those that ended up pregnant and he wanted you safe. He had seen the underlying longing of knowledge in your eyes and see what was beyond those sacred walls.

Her period

His brain soared alive with the idea.

How many days had gone since you got it? Twelve days?

And if there was something he knew by heart is a woman's cycle. Ironically he used that knowledge to avoid getting his hookups pregnant, even if he used a condom. And now, he was using it for the opposite.

In two days you'd be ovulating. And you had returned early from a sudden trip due to sickness.

He didn't know if to thank God or his luck for such delicious coincidence.

But what if she decides to stay?

No. You wouldn't. You couldn't be so blind to do such thing. His plan was foolproof.

With the gears turning, he set his plan into motion.

----

Taglist:

@tango-juice @miaasmf @migueloharastruelove @slight-darkness @zombiesurf @oharasfilipinawife @thedevax @eepiebeepie @vsplanet @smartyren @m4dyy @keenspeachy @deputy-videogamer @the-colourfull-bean @killjoy-nightshadow @whos-writing-stuff @tomalymme @x0tw0d57 @huniedeux @ange-grayson @cubecube555 @riuichiii @plumplum2099

#t writes✨#miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara x you #atsv miguel #Heathens #priest au #priest miguel #Spotify

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hyggetrait · 1 year

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🚑 Welcome to the White Willow Memorial Hospital 🏥

Functioning Hours:

Open 24 hours a day, 7 days week.

White Willow Memorial is an integrated healthcare system providing quality care to local and global communities of the Sims world. Located in the central point of Magnolia Promenade, White Willow Memorial is acclaimed for its excellent care teams and specialist. With around the clock emergency room, two state of the art surgery room, a pediatric office, and a birthing suite for any expecting patient, White Willow Memorial staff is prepared to take the best care of you and your loved ones.

Gallery Id: NicoleSimblr (check the ‘include custom content’ or it won’t show up). Click here for the lite cc version.

Finally able to share the long-awaited hospital build. I hope you all love it and it lives up to your expectations!

Floor plan and additional information, including CC list and how to set up birth suite below.

Floor Plan

Important Information

Enable bb.moveobjects when placing down

I tried to playtest as much as I could for birthing experience but did not have time to try out with the doctor career, so I apologize in advance for any hiccups.

I used gshade preset spring bubbles by jayica, so colors might look different for you

Please tag me if you use this build, it makes me so happy to see my lots be part of your sims stories!

This built was primarily made to be used with pandasama’s birthing mod. I recommend potentially removing the door (or locking access) to the pediatric room and the doctors office in the second floor to ensure your sim sticks to the birthing suite.

Speaking of the birthing suite, if I want my sim to have a regular birth using the pandasama birth mod, then I start off with the default hospital bed already in the room and when the time comes to deliver I go into build mode (bb.enablefreebuild) and switch the hospital bed for the surgery machine. If you want to go c-section route then use the birthing suite up until its time and then go into the surgery room (I recommend the one at the very end of the hallway which has the baby decor)

CC Information

Note the “*” denotes the costom content that is not required for functional gameplay but just simply decor to add more realism. Essentially, House of Harlix, Pierisims, and Tud’s CC are must.

Tuds - 2nd Wave Set (Couches all over the hospital)

Pierisims - The Office, MCM (for offices)

Harrie - Octave, Brownstone, spoons (windows, bookshelves, clutter)

Harlix - Livin Rum' (table), Tiny Twavellers (wallpaper)

PandaSama - Birth Mod (for sonogram machine)

CharlyPancakes - The Lighthouse Collection (books in offices)

Awingedllama* - All sets (used plants for clutter)

Brazen Lotus - Party Poppers (balloons in maternity suite)

Aeonpixels *- Medicare Ads (not necessary but recommend for posters around hospital & meternity suite)

RVSN* - Skewl is Kewl (school board, not really needed just a detail)

Syboulette -Hippocrate Set (simlish service navigation sign in hallway and ambulance (note this is very high poly, you could just get a makeshift one from the gallery like I did for the cc lite version!)

#showusyourbuilds #ts4 build #ts4 lot download #ts4 exterior #ts4 lot #ts4 community lot #ts4 hospital #ht:build download #ht:build

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destinationtoast · 9 days

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Calling Game of Thrones fans with knowledge of the fandom's history! [see also: Supernatural version]

I'm in the midst of putting together some fandom deep dives as part of my analysis of TV Fandom Fix-Its on AO3, including GoT. I'm trying to give context for how many fanworks the fandom was producing overall, and when overall spikes in fandom activity were happening, and I could use help.

Specifically, I'm trying to label AO3 activity spikes with what episodes/events seemed to contribute to them. But I'm probably missing important context. E.g., I know there were other events like fanwork exchanges happening that might have been contributors to some activity spikes, or things the show creators said/did might also have contributed sometimes.

If you have theories about why the red spikes between seasons happened near the following dates, that would be excellent:

Dec 28, 2020

May 11, 2020

Oct 5, 2015

Sept 29, 2014

July 21, 2014

And if you think I'm missing important context for some of the other spikes, or I made goofs on some of the labels, please LMK!

This was posted on April 10, 2024; I'm hoping for relevant replies in the next few days.

If you prefer to look at the raw data, it's too long to list here, but you can read it in this spreadsheet. And you can view the graph and labels bigger in this slide.

Thanks so much in advance!!

(If you have questions or critiques, please click through and read more context on AO3 or click through to the OP version of this post, which I will update with clarifications as needed.)

#got #game of thrones #asoiaf #fandom stats #questions for the tumblmind #op #toastystats #50 #100

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sleepimali · 11 months

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Candlelight spirits 🕯🔥

If you wanna get these as a print and sticker set, you can do so until the end of May over on my Patreon by pledging to the Professional Napper tier or above <3

Or if you just wanna read about these little friends, that's more than okay too 🥰

Candlelight Spirits Lore:

First off, don't worry, that mouse can pop in and out of the lantern at will, it's not trapped :)

If there’s one thing candlelight spirits know, it’s that the best stories are the ones told in the light of flickering candles and around campfires. And so fire became the very essence of their being! They burn bright, curious and passionate, with an appetite for good tales.

Back when humans and magic folks were at war, they used to hide to listen to the stories of both sides, which was not always the easiest. As a fire elemental they could hide within the flames themselves, but in the face of interesting stories, it was terribly hard for them to not burst out of their hiding spot and ask a thousand questions.

But alas, that was what they had to do. Humans were wary of magic folks and creatures of any kind, and the magic folks did not like that the candlelight spirits would not disclose information about the humans.

But how could they pick sides when they have hearts that melt as easily as wax, and when they knew that if either side won, millions and millions of stories would be lost forever?

So for them, it was heaven when the Long War finally came to an end. There was an abundance of tales like never before, and they did not need to hide any longer.

However, as society started to advance, the introduction of electricity and magic lights ended up thinning out the opportunities they had in the end. And even more sadly for them, storytelling was no longer the primary method of entertainment, at least not in the same way.

From a time where fire was the source of all light in the night, to one where it’s rarely used at all… The poor spirits are nowhere near as common now, given that their presence is tied to the flames, which act as portals for them to come into the same plane as us.

But they persist! Because as long as there are people, there will be good stories to tell.

And if you want to find them, your best bet is arranging a cosy candlelit dinner or campfire night with loved ones, or you can go to a temple or church, or sometimes even a restaurant – any place where there’s always some kind of fire burning.

However, tragically enough, candlelight spirits are banned from the places they adore the most; libraries. This is for understandable reasons, as they cannot control their flames, unlike other flame elementals such as stove bunnies. After all, they came into existence at a point in history when books had not even been invented yet, and fire was what brought people together. And yes, sadly this ban applies even to candlelight spirits in the protective casing of a lantern.

An endearing fact about the candlelight spirits is that they’re shapeshifters from birth, their forms flickering between different shapes much like the flames themselves, but at some point their bodies become stable and stop shifting. In the end they take on the form of whichever character first truly resonated with them. So for that reason it is very common to see candlelight spirits resemble storybook characters, or a storyteller’s loved one.

Sometimes this can be a little bit strange for those who tell their stories to suddenly come face to face with a tiny version of a member of their family or beloved, but it’s usually strangely soothing.

Some who have had these little spirits take on the appearance of their loved ones who’s passed say that instead of being upset, it makes them cherish the memory of that person even more. After all, they took on that form out of sheer love for the person they were in the storyteller’s heart, rather than being disrespectful to their memory.

The candlelight spirits are also excellent storytellers themselves! Who wouldn’t be after listening to so many tales for decades and even centuries?

And they share those stories with joy, which is why a lot of the time historians in particular love them, even though stories are just stories and may not be entirely truthful. But regardless, they’re a goldmine of information from the past.

However, as much as historians love listening to the tales of the candlelight spirits, the love isn’t always mutual. They’re more than happy to tell their stories, but they’re not as excited to hear what the historians have for them. Why? Because they’ve already heard those stories long ago, over and over again, and more accurately too. So they would rather be somewhere else.

Or at least that’s how it used to be. Because in a plot twist this caused a lot of historians (and academics in general) to turn into absolute party animals and adventurers and extroverts in general to appease the spirits’ appetite for good stories so they’d hang around more. It’s to the point that the history department in any given university now has a reputation to be the wildest one there is.

(Please note, this is not to imply historians are boring, I know few people who are more interesting than folks with a passion for history😂)

#artists on tumblr #long post #watercolor #sleepimali #devil in the details lore #watercolor art #watercolor illustration #fantasy creature #ditd lore #animal art #fire elemental #traditional art

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the-timewatcher · 9 months

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A disgruntled Tumblrina (gender-neutral) made a website and why you should too.

Or "reject social media, return to personal websites".

PART 1: THE PART WHERE I CONVINCE YOU TO MOVE TO PERSONAL WEBSITES

So, the Web 2.0 social media infested landscape seems to be crumbling before our very eyes. Reddit's leadership is increasingly greedy, Twitter is sinking under the weight of Elon's massive, yet increasingly fragile ego, Tumblr is slowly turning into another lifeless corpo-fest, complete with the layout, Instagram continues to be vapid and soulless and Facebook seems to be going the way of MySpace.

(feel free to check the alt text on these, btw)

In these troubling times, where everything looks the same and you're expected to be milked for every dollar you're worth, what is a disgruntled Internet surfer such as yourself to do? Move to an untested alternative that's bound to get overrun by fascists thanks to poor moderation? Stay the course on the sinking ships you're used to?

Well, what if I told you that we've solved this problem way back in the 90's and early 2000's and were merely duped by the Big Zuck into forgetting our legacy? What if there was a cure for the sanitized, dull social media hellscape?

It takes a bit of work, when compared to just using a social media site, but even if your particular use case makes switching difficult (ex. an artist looking to promote their work), it's still a good secondary option to consider.

The core appeal is the ability to customize and individualize, make a corner of cyberspace unabashedly yours,

It can also be an exciting avenue of creative expression, giving whatever you want to say a unique coat of paint,

Most website hosting services are a bit more lax about what you can do on them, due to changes in the profit structure (rather than depending on advertisers and investors, they either have a premium option to give supporters perks, have another product, or, in the case of paid services, you renting that space IS the product),

If you want your website to be more accomodating and accessible, you don't have to file tons of feedback - do it yourself,

If you'd like to connect with other webmasters and promote each other's websites, we have webrings - sets of circular links that connect websites with something in common, be it a topic, aesthetic or friend group,

You're less likely to have your stuff purged by an ill-advised change in policy (especially if you have a backup of your files somewhere),

The more people do it, the less power those massive social media corpos have over the internet,

It can be a load of fun!

If I have you convinced, keep reading into part 2. If you just wanna see what I did, skip to part 3. If neither, feel free to continue scrolling. I won't hold it against you. You'll be missing out, that's all.

PART 2: SO, YOU WANNA MAKE A WEBSITE!

Good choice, here's some resources!

sadgrl's absolute beginner's guide to Neocities - what it says on the tin!

W3Schools - a more in-depth tutorial site, a learning resource so excellent it substituted for what I was supposed to learn in technical highschool (because our teacher just told us to go on W3Schools instead of teaching us shit)

A list of free layouts for your website - whether to use as a base to learn from or to simply take for yourself,

Neocities - the posterchild for free website hosting for personal websites. Doesn't allow video or audio, but you can get around that by linking those files from elsewhere. Beginner-friendly to a fault - once you have an account just drag and drop your files in,

Gitlab (& Gitlab Pages) - a more advanced option, but it has a few advantages of its own. Gitlab is a website hoster second and a version control service first - which is programmer speak for "keeps track of changes in your code and stores a backup of it online". it helps a lot when working on multiple devices or co-writing with a friend. And secondly, you can use Gitlab Actions to automate putting your website up (even on Neocities, like I do!)

My askbox - I am not joking, if you have any questions about any of this, I'd love nothing more than to help you out!

But with most of my indie web propaganda out of the way, it's time.

PART 3: Welcome to Timewatcher OS.

Of course, because I couldn't be normal when it comes to making a website, I had to turn it into a fake operating system. Each subpage is an "app", opened in a separate embed window. It has unlockable wallpapers (no pay2win, prommy). There's bideo games on it! I even made a music player for it so I can share my incongruent music tastes!

Like I said in my Tumblr bio, if I ever go radio silent for more than a month, it means I've gotten fed up with this hellsite and moved to my own homepage permamently. And I highly advise you make an option like this for yourself too! Lastly, if any of y'all would like to start a webring, do let me know in the askbox - I'm down to manage it if I'm not alone in there.

Anyways, I hope I convinced you to make a website, or at least check out some of the cool sites you've been missing out on! Hope to see you on the Old Web!

#webdev #web development #old web #neocities #webcore #indie web #codeblr #resources #save

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tmntheadcanons · 11 months

Text

tmnt 2003 headcanons: cooking

Leo:

Bless his heart it's the thought that counts

Mikey thinks he was cursed by the vengeful ghost of a scorned chef because if he is even in the kitchen something will go wrong

And not only that but he will somehow destroy every utensil he touches like those non-stick pans? unrecognizable once he's done

And he'll burn everything

Lowkey it's because he gets impatient and turns the heat up all the way and scorches whatever he's making

And when he's cooking he'll be following the recipe and he'll just decide that something isn't important cause he doesn't know what it is

Or he'll try to guess what it is and that's even worse

he'll be like oh cream of tartar? That's just coffee cream and tartar sauce

He's happy to help but never trust him it's a trap

Here is a list of things Leo successfully can cook: cereal, canned soup and maybe toast on a good day

He's on dishes duty

Raph:

Actually surprisingly functional considering it's Raph

His cooking can be a little sloppy and it might not look very nice but it'll taste good

He's got a handful of recipes he knows how to make pretty well and for everything else he can probably figure it out

But Raph's recipes would be stuff that's pretty basic but very homey like chili, chicken noodle soup or like spaghetti and meatballs

At the farmhouse he likes to bbq like a middle aged dad

But Raph's problem is that he makes like triple the amount of food they actually need because go big or go home

And he cries when he cuts onions and not even like a little teary eyed like full on crying

Donnie:

He's just barely passing a C- at best

Donnie's problem is that he also doesn't follow the recipe because he thinks he knows better

and he doesn't

He's like oh cooking is just science and he treats it like his own little chemistry project

Like he'll make soup and treat it like he's making a potion

He's better than Leo because if he's supervised he can probably pull it off but if left to his own devices he will grab a flamethrower from his lab and be like this will be perfect to broil my nachos

With donnie's cooking it might be okay but there's also like a 20% chance it's poison

But also Donnie has no taste and would probably be content eating saltine crackers for the rest of his life

And he rarely cooks he does a lot around the house so he's rarely given cooking duty

Mikey:

He's the turtle version of remy from ratatouille he's a dreamer

Mikey likes to experiment with recipes and he has a taste for it so he likes to play around with different flavor combinations

And he'll follow recipes the first time he makes something but he can usually just eyeball proportions unless it something advanced

But he's an excellent cook of course and does the majority of the cooking

But he actually likes cooking and it's kind of like his love language

if they order take out and someone is like oh this is good mikey will recreate the recipe for them

And if someone's sick or upset Mikey will make their fav

And he makes his own pizzas

He generally likes everything Mikey isn't a picky eater he likes fancy dinners but he also likes 12 dollar cold left over pizza from dominos

Every time he eats his own cooking he says compliments to the chef

#tmnt #tmnt 2003 #tmnt 2k3 #tmnt headcanons #tmnt 2003 headcanons #I love how the fandom decided leo can't cook #Also I made a sims 4 tmnt save and in the first like 15 minutes leo tried to make mac and cheese and started a fire and died #it was very him

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missmaywemeetagain · 1 year

Text

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

Character/Fandom: Elvis - Elvis (2022)

Requested: kinda

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Stop her, stop her, stop her…

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

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

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

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

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

If anything, he’s cared too much.

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

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

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

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

He’s too late.

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

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

Suddenly, everything feels much too heavy.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

I’ll always be alone.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Something in the way she says it gives him hope.

“You need to fix this, Elvis.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

He nods.

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

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

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

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

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

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

You can’t seem to escape him.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Damn him and Sandy both.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I take care of what’s mine.”

“You were made for me.”

“You belong here with me.”

“It’s meant to be…”

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

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

At all

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I need you.”

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

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

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

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

Your heart stops. And you finally remember.

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

He’s loved you all along.

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

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

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

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

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

“I-I-I…and I’m so sorry, y/n.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Okay,” you whisper back.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You nod. You put the scarf in your purse.

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

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

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

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

When it’s time, I’ll know.

Four Weeks Later

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

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

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

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

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

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

You’d called her last night.

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

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

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

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

“Y/n.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“On your knees,” you command.

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

“Did I stutter?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Show me,” you command.

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

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

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

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

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

“Use your words,” you order.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And he’s all yours.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Get on your back,” you demand.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

But perhaps that is your own ego talking.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Completely,” he nods back.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He nods furiously, eyes unfocused.

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

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

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

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

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

“Mamaaaa…need y-you,” he begs.

This makes you smirk coyly.

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

He can only manage a whimper in response.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Still sensitive, you think.

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

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

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

“I love you,” he whispers.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Finally, you are exactly where you need to be.

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

Here, with Elvis.

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

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