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obae-me · 5 months ago

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Happy Birthday to my favorite boy who I love with my whole soul!

He's ostentatious, yes. It's hard to think otherwise with his title of Pride, his extravagant clothes, his dramatic entrances, and his peacock-like aura; always strutting about with his head held high and his metaphorical and oftentimes literal wings held out fluttering behind him.

So, it's easy to forget how much he loves simplicity. How he craves normalcy.

You'll fully admit you had misjudged him when his first birthday with you rolled around. Rumors forced visions of Diavolo putting a screeching halt over the whole kingdom, making everyone come out of their homes and business in droves just to celebrate. He'd have a limo or flying carriage take him to an exclusive five-star restaurant, drinking millennia old Demonus so expensive, one drop could have Mammon rolling in money for months. All the while decked up to the nines- the tens, even.

But, you quickly learned that those symbols of opulence were not what he wanted.

However, this year, you still found doubt clawing at your insides. Was this enough? His brothers assured you that what you all had planned was more than adequate, but it was still difficult to think so. You wanted to give him the world... Now you knew Diavolo's struggles firsthand when it came to the fallen angel.

After he had fallen asleep, you'd rolled over and disabled the timer on his phone. Mammon had already somehow snuck in and stolen Lucifer's alarm clock, eliminating his backup (which might already be sold at this point). He could sleep in now. Diavolo had already given Lucifer the day off, but old habits died hard, and everyone assumed he'd be up before he needed to.

The plan was set. He'd wake up to already-made coffee he could sip in bed before lumbering down to breakfast in his pajamas. There would be no arguing, the house would be clean, and everyone was ready to participate in a historical museum tour that was showcasing demon adaptations of human technologies. One of which was the first magical rendition of an assembly line.

Then you'd head out to have tea and snacks in the Royal Gardens. It would be just you, him, and Diavolo (with Barbatos serving of course) while the others set up a party at the House. The only ones attending would be family and close friends. It would be then that he opened presents, ate his favorite homemade dinner, and drank a little in the company of others while playing different games. Then while the night was fairly young, you'd offer to take him away.

As you rolled over in bed, listening to his light breathing as he slept soundly, you couldn't help but feel both nervous and excited for what you had planned for him. For months, you had tried scouting for the perfect gift. Was this...enough? It deviated from what you would normally plan to get him. It wasn't a cursed record or a set of cufflinks or a tie or anything like that. This year, you'd managed to find a music box. It played a lovely little tune that had the sort of melody that forced you to go quiet, chills running down your spine. But this wasn't just any music box. No. Under certain conditions, it would show the listener the memory that would make them the happiest in that moment. And the conditions were easy, one only needed to turn the winding key exactly six times.

Thinking about presenting it to him made you all giddy inside, knowing that he could use it whenever he felt particularly stressed...but also more anxiety allowed itself to flood your nerves. What if it had somehow broken in the spot you'd hidden the gift in?! Did you check it twice last night? Yes. But stranger things had happened in this house, broken things were actually quite common. So, you'd check on it again...just to be sure.

You eyed Lucifer as you slipped out of bed, keeping the mattress from bobbing too much as you tip-toed your way out of his room. Straight to the planetarium you went, assured by the youngest sibling that he'd keep it safe by shooing Lucifer out of the area if he got too close, which was so common already the eldest shouldn't get suspicious. Slipping your way into the room, you rushed over to the specific chair you had hid it behind. The ground was cold as you sat down on it, your legs crossed over each other as you sighed in relief as the intact music box was pulled into your lap.

"Might as well give it a test run," you muttered to no one but yourself as the key clicked six times. Music poured out into the room as you opened the lid. Mist seemed to shimmer a little in the air, a scene projected into the magic. Faint voices played into your mind, syllables almost twinkling in time with the notes.

"You worry too much." A familiar voice had you smile a bit sheepishly, an old memory of Lucifer shaking his head at you being the music box's memory of choice. "I've told you time and time again that you don't need to fret over impressing me, or whatever that silly word you said was." Ah, yes...you remembered this now...it was some time ago, worrying over some kind of RAD gala. Even now you weren't exactly sure what the specific thing you had panicked so grievously over was, but you had been so anxious over letting everyone down, especially the one who you held so close to your heart. In the image, Lucifer grabbed your face, looking so deeply into your eyes, it was as if he were reaching through the haze to assure you all over again. "And if I must, I will continue to tell you time and time and time again, even if my jaw must break from the strain. So take a breath, relax your shoulders, and remember that--"

"I love you," something echoed. You jumped, your arms pulling the music box close to your body instead of launching it in the air. You shut the lid as you glanced over your shoulder.

"L-Luci..."

The demon chuckled a bit as he tucked the fabric of his robe tighter against his body as he came up behind you, getting on his knees and resting his chin sleepily on your shoulder. "Should I be offended or pleased that you're sneaking off in the middle of the night to meet up with another me?"

You audibly sighed. So he saw... "Shouldn't you be asleep?"

"Answering a question with a question are we?" As he mused he wrapped his arms around your torso.

"Answering my question to your question with another question?" you quipped right back.

Even without fully seeing him you could feel his eyes roll. He gave you a squeeze and pressed his cheek right next to yours. "Am I to assume...perhaps rather selfishly...if all the secrecy is to imply that this interesting little thing is mine?"

A long pause settled between you. Was this...a bit of disappointment bubbling inside you? "It was supposed to be a surprise..."

If anyone knew the tragedy of derailed plans, it would be him. He hummed in apologetic understanding. "I can pretend like I didn't see it."

That actually had you chuckle a bit, shaking your head. You scooted on the floor to turn around to face him. Grabbing one of his hands, you placed the gift inside his palm. "Happy birthday, Lucifer. May this uplift you in those darker moments when I can't be there. May your birthday this year add to the pool of happy memories to choose from. May I be by your side for another birthday, and the birthday after that, and so many more to come." You leaned forward and kissed his cheek, chuckling at his slightly wild bed-hair that you were just now getting a good look at.

He went a bit silent, and you could've sworn as his eyes shut for a moment, a little bit of color came to his cheeks. He set your gift off to the side of himself as his arms wrapped around you once more, pulling you into a tight embrace. "And may I get to tell you time and time and time and time again...how much I love you."

#giving him so many smooches #Is this any good or not? who knows but I needed to do something for my husband this year #obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me nightbringer #obey me lucifer #obey me lucifer x mc #obey me lucifer x reader #obey me headcanons #obey me imagines

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retnym · 2 years ago

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WORLD TOUR- .01

"Gosh, you just couldn't keep our names out of your mouth."

Flashing lights, loud talking, humid air, crowds full of paparazzi; all screaming to get you to look their way. My breath hitched as I stood up straighter, feeling the fabric of my dress finally move down as it had been tight against my torso. My manager thought it’d be a good idea to go with a tight red dress for the premiere of my new movie. Something I highly wanted to decline but I didn’t know until the last minute.

“[Name]! This way!” A dark-haired lady calls me, her microphone in hand. This was someone that my friend, Emma warned me of. Heading over to her, she gives a quick side hug and has us stand so the camera sees both of us. “How are you, you look amazing!”

How am I? Well to be serious, I am horrible. This dress is squeezing me in what feels like all the wrong places. The flashing lights, it feels like I’m going to go blind with only seeing dots for the rest of my days. The screaming, having to look everywhere all at once. And last but definitely not it, missing home for this movie. Missing my best friends in Germany for America.

“I’m wonderful, seeing so many familiar faces, it’s great." Lying straight through my teeth here. "How are you?” Obviously putting it back to her I start to space out, the loudness of it all being the cause of it.

I wonder what Bill, Gustav, and Georg are doing. Hopefully thinking about me.

Glancing around the lights are still bright. I wonder if their fingers ever hurt from clicking that button repeatedly.

“[Name]?” My eyes flicker to her face.

“Sorry, everything is so overwhelming. The shouting.” I explain, bringing back a smile onto my face. A fake one, of course. “Oh, I totally get it.” She laughs an obnoxious laugh I’m sure everyone hears and finds just as annoying as I do right at this very moment.

“So, how does it feel being away from Germany?” This question makes me raise my eyebrow for the splitest second. It was like she read my mind. “Well, it’s pretty normal to be away just due to all my productions being away or my tours being in the United States. Only thing I will say is I truly miss my best friends.” I tell in a sad tone, at the end though I bite my buttom lip. Picking the dead skin off of it as a nervous habit that most of my fans have even caught on to.

She does another phoney laugh for the viewers. Gosh, if Gustav was here he’d be subtly hitting my arm or squeezing it as he tried not to laugh.

“And your best friends, aren’t they in a famous German band. What are they called again?” She questions the name of my best friend's band? If you’re going to interview me that’s the one thing you should know! It’s all I talk about, Jesus Christ, this lady lives under a rock. “Tokio Hotel,” I say in almost an irritated tone but I caught myself in time to stop it and not make her embarrassed or have this end up on MTV.

“Right, I knew that.” And again with the laugh. Its excruciating.

“How do you know them?”

How do I know them!? It’s all over Myspace! Look on Twitter! Look on Youtube! We have repeatedly told people, over and over and over!

“We’re childhood best friends! Mine and the Kaulitz twin's parents also grew up together. Bill is my absolute best friend, he literally knows everything.” I laugh, talking about them gives me so much happiness, a nostalgic feeling even though we’re still around each other.

“What about the other twin, Tom?” My face faulters a tiny bit.

“Oh, he’s a friend as well. Growing up together how couldn’t we be?” I save myself from a lecture from my manager. She never understood our hatred for each other and because of that both of our managers told us to keep it off screen.

The rest of the interviews were just questions about the movie or about my dress. It was like almost every interview. Most didn’t ask about Tokio Hotel because if they did I’d probably sit there for hours.

By the end of the night, after watching the movie I had gotten into my limo by myself.

I didn’t want to stay with everyone else or go to after parties. I was getting ready to go back to the hotel, change into some comfortable clothes to go back to an airport.

Heading back to Germany, it will sadly take almost 11 hours on a plane. I also get to go back to my kitty, Springroll or Frühlingsrolle. I couldn’t bring her this time since it was just a week's experience so I left her to the twins. Hopefully, Bill didn’t leave her with Tom for too long she might’ve been starved or neglected for too many hours.

Mentally rolling my eyes, we pulled up to the hotel. I lazily got out of the vehicle to another swarm of camera flashes and screams asking me about the night. This paparazzi you can not say a word to. They will twist everything you say. They’re nasty monsters.

I just want to go back home.

“I missed you guys so much!” I laughed, hugging my best friends as they were gathered outside the Kaulitz’s house. “Dude we missed you too.” Georg pulls back, all of us following suit. Bill was still grabbing onto my arm with a wide grin. “We saw every single interview. Gosh you just can’t keep our names out of your mouth?” He teases, the other two guys laugh.

“Did you see-”

“Oh we saw, we saw the one lady.” Gustav cuts me off, and my eyes gleamed before bursting into a fit of laughter. “You guys have no idea how awful that was!” I shouted tugging on Bill as he agreed. We all talked about what I missed or what they should’ve seen while I was in America. It was all pretty wild.

My mother being from Detroit Michigan we go sometimes every now and then. The twins would join sometimes but they’ve never seen every state like I have.

“We have pictures of Tom with Frühlingsrolle while he was sleeping. He will never admit it but they bonded quite well when you were gone?” Georg explains, pulling out his phone to show me the pretty blurry pictures of the other twin with my all-black kitty laying on top of his chest while he slept. His hat was in his hand as his dreads actually laid down.

I smirk, my eyebrows raised in amusement just as the angel of a man spoke, one of the devil's children came out with my cat in her crate.

“Here’s your brat of an animal.” He grumbles, dramatically handing it to me causing all of us to snicker. “What?” He scrunches his nose in confusion. “My brat of an animal?” I repeat.

Bill was practically cackling at this point.

“Yeah? That’s what I said.” He was not getting to what we were saying so Georg takes out his phone again and shows the picture. The boy's face slightly dropped as we all laughed.

“That doesn’t mean anything.” He crosses his arms.

“It doesn’t?” I frown in a sarcastic way making him punch my shoulder. “Aye, unnecessary.” I shove him back.

“It’s okay to be a pussy lover, Tom.” Gustav lays a hand on his shoulder, I shake my head and Tom just plays with his piercing to cover the noticeable smirk he has to attempt to hide his laughter.

“Oh, I’m a pussy lover. Just not [Name]’s.” He flips me off, I nod. “You could never get it even if you wanted to.” I roll my eyes.

“Oh really?” He comes closer and I straighten my posture. “Yup.” I glare at him.

“Never say never,” He shoves me backward a little bit but Bill was behind me to make sure I didn’t stumble further than I could’ve. Before I could say anything else, Tom was making his way back inside.

After he left it was a tad bit awkward. Usually how it goes. Either we go into full blown fights or tiny weird arrangements like that. We couldn’t stand each other if it saved our life. Surprisingly that was longest we’ve been in area together without cameras or outside people and didn’t fight until the last second but still.

A World record for us.

Later than I wanted so I apologize for that. I will try to have the second chapter out tomorrow. I hope everyone enjoyed this, it's fun to get back into writing like I used to:) Also the chapters will be longer:) this is just the beginning.

#tom kaulitz #bill kaulitz #georg listing #gustav schäfer #tokio hotel #x reader

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therealslimshakespeare · 11 months ago

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Gigi -the unbaked thots:

• Bath •

Summary: I’ve had so many requests for this universe (including a bath time which this includes) and I appreciate all of y’all’s patience. I find this universe the hardest to write for and create entire scenes and fics out of so in order to keep it from dying out I intend to loosen up a little and start throwing out headcanons for y’all to enjoy in the meantime, you can watch for them with this header above. For now enjoy a trash bit of nastiness I wrote in under an hour in the middle of the night last night -kudos to the minxs @eliseinmemphis and @stylespresleyhearted

Warnings: Explicit! 18+ Bath sexy times, grinding, fingering, praying during sex, age gap, slight degradation, voluntarily drinking bath water containing cum. Yup.

Era: September 1977

Well here they are. On the dreaded tour.

But for now -there are bubbles. So many bubbles. And the heavy rumble of the bath’s jets and the golden glow of the dimmed bathroom lights in the hotel suite and the slippery bulk of Elvis as he grumbles beneath Gigi while she writhes amidst the foam of his rinsed shampoo.

“Sloppiest lil rider I ever-“ his face is shining in a heated glow, he is awash in pink cheeked arousal and Gigi persists, wearing herself out for his little gasps and the twitches of an eyebrow here and there. Bouncing adamantly atop his thick thighs in the swirling water and trying her avid best to slip his fat length inside her. She’s been trying since day one and every time it’s

-“not yet, Gigi, not yet, s’posed to be special and you’re special baby girl, not somethin’ to rush with someone special like you, see, I uh, i-i-it’s special-“

Gigi thinks having his rock solid cock inside her would be special enough.

“ ‘member the other night,

daddy?” She asks him in a huff, winded from the exertion as she pins his throbbing length against himself and grinds her clit against the hairs on his rounded belly, full of desperation born of youthful overexubernace, “remember how -how - when you were teasing me -and you pressed against my little hole?”

Elvis lets out a long groan in reply, slapping his hands against the sides of the tub in sexual frustration, causing his rings to clank and his bracelets to jangle against the porcelain. He can feel himself swell even more, the ache in his balls nearly unbearable at the proximity to snug tightness that he’s been denying himself for a myriad of reasons that are making less and less sense now, the more Gigi’s glossy wet tits slap his face silly.

“Oooh, oh I feel you-“ she gasps, as that redundant piece of meat between his thighs gives a hearty little twitch at the memory of her tiny hole and it’s fluttering need.

“You son of a bitch,” Elvis hisses to his traitorous little friend who’s acting very stalwart in his determination to find nothing but a tight cunt sufficient stimulation for release -it was easier back when little Elvis was a limp and useless dong: “this is the one time i’m asking you not to work. C’mon, don’t fail me now I-I- hell… O-o-our father. Who art in heaven-“

Gigi buries her face into the steamy crease where his cheeks meet his throat and licks at the salt there that not even the bath can remove. His hands fly to grip her hips and he yanks her up and down, grinding harshly against her raw little center as her breasts smash against his broad chest.

He regularly complained to the boys about her voraciousness and got no sympathy, not even when they saw it for themselves with the way he could barely get his seat in the limo, have his water handed to him and a towel before she was taking off his belt, unzipping his jumpsuit and inevitably giving lil Elvis some strong mouth suction. The boys had gotten used to ignoring him dumping a load down this little girl’s throat in the blurry blaze of street lamp lit nights and cranking up the radio to hide her moans every jet flight. Nothing about it was fitting and it wasn’t even to his tastes -so Elvis insisted- but it was real nice to be so wanted, even if the voraciousness of it was all a little alarming and out of hand.

Yet, God knows Elvis wanted Gigi badly. It half scared him sometimes and the rest of the time it kept him alive.

As did Lisa in an entirely different way and between the two girls tearing up his sedate plans for self mortification and permanent hermitage, Elvis found some zest for life returning to his soul as August became September and tabloids went from calling Gigi “the new girl” to calling her his whore and the colonel went from not answering his phone to leaving a perpetual red light on the message box and it went from kisses and snuggles in his Graceland bed to frantic grinding like this after every show that had her caterwauling in his arms begging to be torn open by his cock and him grunting like a bear in heat as he spurted against her belly and smashed the button for the tub jets to stop.

Wouldn’t do to circulate superstar spunk in a Cincinnati hotel jacuzzi.

“Mmm, that feel good daddy?” her sweet voice asks as the singing angels dim and the sense of time and space and his spent cock bring him back into consciousness.

“Uhuh. Feels real good.” he admitted sheepishly and felt her plump lips pressing to his bashful grin.

He returns it, pouring his love into her with the cradling of her head in his hands and the flick of his tongue against hers and the languid massaging of lips.

Gigi swirls the milky strands of his spend in the bath water between them, giggly and invigorated. She gets this way after climaxing and Elvis can only blearily smile and indulge the way she drags him around and makes him stand and get out of the tub, how she pats him down with towels like he’s a boy child and chitters to him about backstage gossip, praises for his performance of the night and Tammy’s latest tips for making Jerry’s life a living orgasmic hell. All while pressing kisses to every single part of his body as she goes along.

She’s found goosey places on Elvis that he didn’t even know existed.

Gigi is drying his shoulders when she sees the last remnants of the tub water cycloning in a swirl towards the drain, precious pearly strings cavorting like ribbons in the eddy.

Her conversational chatter ceases abruptly with a regretful -“oh no!“

She drops the sodden towel.

He watches her kneel, crouched and bent and glorious in a soft line of naked beauty from the back. Thought his maidenly idyl is shattered as she faces away from him and in what seems to be an impulsive moment of adoration, Gigi leans over the tub, hard porcelain lip digging into her sternum as she ducks her head and dips her mouth to the tepid bathwater.

He can hear her slurping.

Her graceful bracing in position and the greedy working of her throat suggest competency at this vile practice that makes his stomach lurch and spent cock swell thickly against his thigh. Without autonomy he hears himself grunt appreciatively.

“Fuuuuck me.” he drawls in disbelief, shuffling closer to watch the whole of it, the working of her sweet mouth sucking up his diluted seman and the arch of her back showcasing pink little pussy lips glistening from the back.

It’s sick and he’s terribly in love.

“That’s my good baby girl,” he finds himself praising this heinous degradation, hand coming to rest on the dip of her lower back, “not lettin’ m’lil contrition go to waste.”

It makes her strain to get as deep in the tub as she can, legs taut and face red from the blood rushing downwards to her cheeks as she chases gravity against the flow of the drain, his hand heavy and encouraging as it palms her ass, the pinch of his rings and the grunting, savage, male appreciation for her wantonness making her squeeze her thighs together in hopeless dissatisfaction.

A sting jolts her as his hand collides in an approving slap across her plush backside. The desire to make him proud eggs her on and she crawls further over the ledge, hair dragging in the drain.

Elvis’ hand once groping her butt moves until he’s peeling her apart and sliding in the long lengths of his middle and ring finger into her tight heat, meanly stabbing inside her as she’s bent double, tonguing at the drain for the last of his essence.

“You done this before.” Elvis’ voice is low, without a shred of questioning.

“Yes.” she moans, rosy cheek pressed to the wet floor of the now empty tub. “I always do this when you leave some left over, daddy.”

Elvis watches his fingers sink into pink plushness again and again, rings acting like stoppers at each culmination, spearing her until Gigi is sobbing and spasming over the tub edge, mouth wide open screaming for him with a tongue white from his spend, as broken as he is over the need to fuck her.

Sore and puffy, he assumes he’s learned her a lesson.

Standing her back up tenderly with all gentlemanly grace, Elvis wipes at her slimy cheek with his hands, pleased to find her smile as irrepressible as ever, the only thing on this godforsaken tour that hasn’t disappointed him yet.

“When is soon?” she whines into his kisses as he presses against her, bath quite redundant with the way he has her pinned between the door and his weeping cock, freshly spluttering his devotion against her bare pubic mound like he’s twenty years younger and fit to be such a minx’s lover.

“What?” He questions, murmuring in happy confusion.

“You said you’d make love to me soon.” she insists like a child reminding their senile parent of promises for ice cream after a trip to the dentist. “When is soon?”

Elvis grins through his grunt as he slides against her puffy clit, effortless from her slick and close to coming from images of her drinking his bath- “Soon, little baby,” he pronounces with all the gravity of a wiseman and the authority of a deadly opponent who his hand engulfing her fragile jaw, “-means soon.”

🏷🏷🏷🏷🏷🏷🏷🏷

@parodsal000

@ab4eva

@stylespresleyhearted

@presleyenterprise

@kendralavon7

@coolgirl462

@colahola

@lillypink

@stephthestallion

@vintageshanny

@landmermaid12

@ashtag2887

@notstefaniepresley

@butlersluvbot

@steph-speaks

@eliseinmemphis

@lookingforrainbows

@dkayfixates

@ellie-24

@memphisflash1935-1977

@marriedtopresley

@powerofelvis

@thatbanditqueen

@elvisabutler

@butlersxbirdy

@heartbrake-hotel

@fav-fanficssss

@austinbutlersbaby

@freudianslumber

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@be-my-ally

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@fallinlovewithurlove

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@18lkpeters

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@lil-mamas-obsessions

@father-of-2cats

@helen06dreamer

@returntopresley

@gonnagoandfangirl

@kelssssxd

@octobers-snow

@velvetelvis

@blursedblegh

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chlmtsdoll · 4 months ago

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my suggestion could be i dont know if you seen this show called the l word before but there is a character named dana fairbanks and she RADIATES tashi duncan energy. so if you could maybe make a dana fairbanks inspired tashi duncan x reader or if you haven’t seen it i was thinking former model reader x tashi is a good one too 🤍

I’ve literally always wanted to watch the L word and I’m gonna have to start it soon bc I GET what you mean omg !!! And former model reader x Tashi hits my niche on the NOSE. This took me forever to publish bc I just had so many ideas I wanted to go with 😭 so I hope this is good !!! 🤍

IS IT A CRIME TO WANNA SHINE ?

✩ Pairing: Tashi Duncan x reader

✩ Word count: 3k

✩ Summary: your a wild and free it-girl, adjacent to a life going on to be an inspiring top model when you suddenly meet Tashi, you then start to crave even more

✩ Warnings: eventual smut !, gxg, age gap (reader early 20's) Tashi mid to late 30’s, failed!marriage Tashi, fingering, slight angst, spanking, cursing, degrading, pet names, needy reader, brief mentions of substances, Tashi went blonde after her divorce (blonde hair Z during the Challengers press tour)

Your life was casting calls, early (or late night) rehearsals & fittings, caffeine runs, flights back and forth around the country, and fashion show after fashion show, after party after after party..

You loved the career you were lucky enough to pursue, you had all the beauty, ideal body, and money. You’d been on top of the world but you were also twenty two and nearing burnout.

Your love life was non existent unless it was last minute hook ups, and you’d go home to a cold bed. Empty hearted and longing for someone to make it all change.

And it did change rather quickly when you met her.

“Um- excuse me, can I get by ?” You covered your eyes as lights and flashes blinded you. Trying your best to maneuver by meddling paparazzi, and your few body guards were barely any help. You were rising to the top but still hadn’t always been able to get the best protection which was essential for a young girl like you — even though to the outsiders it had seemed your life was so glamorous and beyond, even a dazzling starlet like you had struggles. It wasn’t always pretty.

You had finally been able to scurry to your limo and you were taken off fast to your next destination, an after party hidden for only the most relevant socialites and models in the industry. You’d known a few athletes and actors would have been there too since the club was well known yet anyone hardly got an invite.

Even you were declared lucky enough to be attending as you were still merely just an it-girl trying to find her place on the scale. When security tried to stop and ask you for verification because you looked far underaged, you rolled your eyes and dug through your thousand dollar Versace bag you did not pay for, to pull out your id.

Just a walk around, say hi to a couple known faces, and go home. We have an early rehearsal tomorrow.

You had a drill. The dozens of times you’d gone to these parties, you learned it was all a tactic,. simply being just work and networking for you — you were on a schedule. As much of a sex symbol your agents tried to present you as, deep down you’d still been this shy and reserved girl from your home tow, only difference is you just knew you had bigger places to be.

Lights low and music blaring throughout the place filled with bodies and people way too into their own self obsession to notice you after a while, all you wanted to do was have a smoke, maybe a drink. You’d known as big as the space was there had to be somewhere you could get away.

You headed upstairs to another area that was a bar as well, but much more relaxed. No club lights flashing and heels clashing against the marble floors by influencers hanging off their nearing the grave “boyfriends”.

But there had been one person sitting at the bar, and there had definitely been some interesting heels.

You’d seen the back of her excellent lean body. Almost in a way that was unreal. Legs had been slender and long, you had to double check if you’d been hallucinating at the sight of her.

She’d been wearing a full sparkling silver dress that had a pleated skirt with a few navy blue stripes lining it. It was preppy but in a glamorous and classy way.

Her skin tan and soft short blonde curls sat on her shoulders, it gave you a Marylin Monroe feel. And her heels — you’d never seen anything like them. They were Louboutins with tennis balls on the six inch heel ?

You took a breath as you examined her figure, stepping in the quieter room, you’d gone straight to the bartender as they asked your drink preference.

“Um, a gin and tonic please ?” you thanked the bartender before turning to peer at the woman a few feet from you, her hair draped over most of her face and all you could really see was her perfectly sculpted nose.

“Are those… tennis balls on your heels ?” You questioned softly, and the blonde had looked up at you, striking brown eyes searched your face under her lashes coated beautifully with mascara.

You had swallowed over a new lump in your throat at her gorgeous features. Never had you seen a woman so beautiful.

She’d look so familiar as well, you couldn’t tell if it was nolstagia, but you could of sworn you had posters of her on your walls when you were young- oh my god.

It’s Tashi Duncan.

The blonde highlights had thrown you a curb since you always remembered her with brown hair, but you remembered she had been much older since the days when she was every tennis girls idol in your eleventh year. Plus, you’d heard she’d gotten a divorce with her star tennis player husband, Art Donaldson.

Either way, fuck had the blonde complimented her eloquently. You’d been completely mesmerized by the way it framed her face.

“Oh these ? Yeah, they’re Loewe.” Her tone smooth as she looked down at the silky white shoes with a striking heel, neon green from the balls just tying it all together.

“I-I love them,” later you’d scorn yourself for stuttering like some starstruck fan. “Are you debuting in fashion week this year ? Not to be a bother but, you’re such a huge inspiration for women like me..you’re amazing.”

You shut your eyes quickly. You sounded way too juvenile. But Tashi had showcased a small flattered smile as she examined you face. You expected her to be unbothered and just walk away, after all you were merely just a dumb little model girl, frolicking around New York on a trust fund to her. She was a powerful and sophisticated woman who worked hard for everything she has. With all her shit together and much more life experience than you.

“No, I um.. I’m here for the fashion, but what to add to my company’s new roll out. I’m looking for models to campaign for me as well, but no luck so far. A lot of these girls all the same, and the designers they walk for pussy.” she spoke over her glass of vodka and your eyes glossed over with an immediate burn of yearning taking over your body.

You had forgotten that after Tashi stopped playing tennis from her infamous injury, but she hadn’t stopped there. She became one of the biggest business women in the industry, with her name tied to multiple brands. She was richer than your worth to be standing next her right now — but you were a strong believer in destiny. And being told she was looking for models to run for her brand,

She might as well say she’d been looking for you.

“Oh, that’s.. awesome. I’m walking in Milan for Vera Wang in a fortnight. But yeah, they make this all seem so serious but a lot of it is bullshit.” You thought if you threw in some pretty words she’d take you seriously. Coming from being in this industry since you were sixteen years old, you knew your way around selling yourself quick and sharply. In desperate hope she’d maybe let it run through her own to let you model for such a woman like herself. That you weren’t just one of those model girls.

“Lovely.” Tashi’s eyes graced over your tall slender body, you’d been so happy you went with a shorter Chanel dress and not the leather Prada pants you we’re pondering on. “You play tennis ? I know a lot of younger models love to think they’re all tennis players these days.”

You couldn’t help but let out a tiny laugh at her joke, but it had been true, you nodded over your glass of gin.

“Yeah, I play a little here and there with friends. But nothing like your upbringing, my god, I could never.”

“Don’t underestimate yourself.” Her eyes had narrowed but still sparked all the way, and she’d glanced at the way you licked your lips shorty. Your face heating up at the way her finger ran around the rim of her glass.

You couldn’t help but think about them sinking into your mouth.

Tashi took a breath to lean back against her chair, then she had leaned up to asked the bartender for a pen and napkin. When he brought it back to her, she had started scribbling on the paper, her slender fingers manicured with a nude color.

“If you ever want to model for me.” She handed you the napkin with her number and you’d feel like you had to stop breathing for a moment. Not even most high class brand deals had ever gotten you all flustered like this, but when it came to hot older women, you’d been like putty. You couldn’t deny it.

“Oh my god.. okay, okay I’d love to. I’ll contact you.” You had given her a girlish smile which you rarely ever did, it was all about resting bitch face, and to Tashi’s defense she had quite liked the lightness too you. The hope I’m your eyes that far too many girls your age had given up on already. She knew you had a spark.

In that moment, you had been already getting prepared for the dreams you’d have that night about being Tashi’s favorite and best model. When you said you wanted to be on top, you meant here.

And that was three years ago.

And not only had you become her best model, top seller in everything you wore, shown off on your angelic like body, making all your friends from your intern Jobs at Vogue envious with hate — that you’d eventually bump up even higher to becoming her girlfriend, but then that extended when you became the Tashi Duncan’s ex supermodel wife.

Now at the ripe age of twenty four, you’d no longer needed to run around to casting calls and auditions, nor even model unless either you desired too or you’d been offered to walk in fashion week.

You’d been promised a life of luxury. With Tashi by your side, letting you be her pride and joy that took her even farther to the next level. Your days had consisted of being a stay at home wife, going on yachts, accompanying her to photoshoots and work dinners, and you would even play tennis often in your free time with you and Tashi’s shared wealthy friends.

You had the life you’d always wanted in the palm of your hand, never did you honestly have to lift a finger. And definitely no thinking on your feet or wondering when the next spontaneous adventure would be really.

And as enticing as it all was, it could at times get a little mundane even for you.

“Make sure she arrives to her lessons on the dot. And I don’t want tv time running to late when practice is over.” you over heard Tashi on the phone with her mom whom was watching over her daughter Lily while the two of you took a quick work trip (flying to Europe.)

You’d been on Tashi’s private jet just about to take off in due time, and you watched as your wife sipped on a cup of Matcha by one of the window seats. Her light colored locks pulled up into a French roll, and some of her bangs hung over her lashes.

She wore a suit dress, white with fabric silky of the softest kind. The way she wore the blazer had her glowing tan skin on display. A true sight for sore eyes.

She was beautiful in every way, and not even your own overachiever mindset could still grasps the fact that she had been your wife overall.

“Okay. Love you too, bye.” Tashi hung up the phone and dropped it onto the table in front of her in a unbothered manner as she went right back to her laptop to check emails.

You, observant and always in witness of the life you two had altered together, watched her. Pondering by the cafe station that was stocked with dozens of different flavors from teas to lattes and all kinds of milks and creamers to choose from.

You’d always gone with almond.

“We have to stop in Florence. There’s a dress fitting you have to attend with Ralph Lauren for this seasons collab.” Tashi spoke to you in orderly to you as she hadn’t even looked up from her laptop screen to meet your eyes. She took a sip from her cup and went right back to typing, you had scoffed and shook your head a bit as you pushed away the container of sugar in your hands,

Leaning against the counter, you remembered when you’d been in your honeymoon phase with the woman you loved most. Happily traveling across the country with her full attention on you. You missed that rush.

You missed her.

“Oh..” you trailed on, voice reluctant as you looked down at your cup, dark black tea. You didn’t even need to look because now you’d known Tashi’s eyes had found your figure from just a few Louis Vuitton sit cases away.

“Yeah ? What’s up ?” Her voice was light although you knew she had picked up on your distance. Now giving you full attention of whatever you had been disproving of from just the sound of your voice.

Her eyes narrowed for a moment at your puzzled expression, finger tips hover the rim of her mug.

“I just thought we’d get Dior this season.” Is all you said. Standing up straighter and looking at the woman who nodded.

“Well, they haven’t decided on if we can or can’t do a campaign this year, it’s been a couple of years we’ve been trying. You know that.” Tashi answered as she let her mug down and you’d known the slight annoyance in her voice all too well. You bit your lip a little in thought.

“I just thought this would be the year. I want Dior, I want to work with them this season.”

Tashi looked at you with a blank expression, trying not to play this game she’d known you’d been treading on for a while now, and you tried not to break a grin at her switch in demeanor to your obvious attempt to make her get unpleasant with you.

“Are you being ungrateful ?”

“No.”

“You’re acting like it.”

“I want a say in what I wear, who I walk for.” You had addressed her more sternly and it was a small moment that had passed before Tashi got up from where she was sitting, to trot over to you calmly.

But that wasn’t so when her hand came up to you sharp, bringing slight pain when she grabbed your chin in her grasp so you could look her eye to eye.

“You don’t wanna do it. Don’t do it. But you can leave.”

Your eyes went to her unsympathetic expression quick, and you tried not to whine at her hold on you.

“You can always leave because I don’t think it runs through that pretty little head of yours that I didn’t get divorced and remarried just to repeat the same shit I did with him. You think this is some fucking charity ?”

You fell back on forming a response when the glint in Tashis eyes as she narrowed at you had, scared you much more than you intended — yet at the same time you couldn’t look away as she got in your face.

“I give you everything. Life, a career, a voice. Let you choose your own hours and let you become of whatever you want while you whine and complain in jewelry that cost more than most people’s rent. And you want what ?” Tashi furrowed her eyebrow as she had grow repugnant of you, which you couldn’t help but love.

“Don’t forget I was your boss first. And I always will be.” Her tone has gone darker as she peers at you, your eyes wide with craving and you’d be lying if you said your core hadn’t become soaking wet when her sent of oak and raspberries was almost suffocating you now.

You’d shown her a soft grin on your lips, signaling you couldn’t have wanted her more right then, she wet her lips intermittently. Tashi turned you around with force and pushed your lower back onto the counter that was embarking you,

“Is this what you want ?” The woman croaked hungrily over your ear as she pushed on your slender body to bend over for her,

“Yes,” you let out a breathe of satisfaction finally.

panting softly as her hands explored your shape and your eyebrows knitted in exhausting bliss when her palm had came down hard on your now exposed ass.

Tashi kissed the space between your neck and shoulders briefly as she whispered,

“You’ve always been an attention whore.”

You couldn’t help but smile as she pulled on your hair to lean up and her fingers graced your heat, wet and pulsing for her. Tashi had hesitated before dipping them into you and you let out a pleading moan, face against the cold marble counter top.

You clawed at something to grab at as her digits pumped you slow than gradually faster, other hand grasping at your waist to seize you because she knew you’d come quick.

And you did with half a cry and half whimper.

You only had a second to catch your breath before Tashi pulled you up straight. She had gently placed your skirt back over your thighs, fixing your presence back to how she found you. Your wife then hovered over your lips,

“Behave.” Was the last thing she said to you without even an apologetic kiss before walking back to her lap top like nothing. You had gone back to your tea and with a pleased simper on your lips indeed.

You were a wild card that would do whatever to be under Tashi’s control, have her notice, and with that she’d known that you’d now be her perfect little model the moment you two would land this evening.

#tashi duncan smut #tashi duncan x reader #tashi duncan #tashi challengers #tashi x reader #challengers #challengers smut #challngers x reader #challengers movie #zendaya #x reader #model!reader #ask #anon ask

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merakiui · 11 months ago

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thinking about androids again, but rather than the plot seen in android jade,,,, consider android floyd who is being developed by tech genius idia shroud with input and funding from business magnate azul ashengrotto.

(cw: yandere, unhealthy behaviors/relationship, obsession, vaguely implied non-con/dub-con, android floyd)

He's designed to be a companion for those who are lonely and in need of the company (whether physically or socially). You're just a tired, overworked university student, so it's mind-boggling to you when there's a sleek limousine parked just beyond campus property. Security guards are insisting you come with them because there's someone who'd like to meet you.

In the limo, you find yourself sitting across from Azul Ashengrotto himself. He doesn't bother with flowery introductions, instead cutting to the heart of the matter. You've been randomly selected to help with a very important phase of his and Idia's project. The general idea is to test how well the android interacts with a normal, ordinary person in a monitored setting.

You're very confused. You never signed up for any lottery, and you certainly aren't affiliated with anything of that sort. You're just trying to get through your degree, survive two part-times, and hopefully make enough to keep afloat for another month. Azul tells you this isn't an issue; you'll be generously compensated for your time and efforts. It's only three months; you'll be permitted to live your life as you normally would, only now you'll be accompanied by a highly intelligent android.

Despite hearing all of this, you hesitate when he reveals the lengthy contract. As you flip through it, analyzing each clause and category, Azul says something that piques your interest. "We don't expect you to house an android in your little apartment. Goodness, that's simply ludicrous. We'll provide your housing for these next three months. After all, we must be able to monitor your progress."

"Housing? What do you mean?"

He smiles at you. Backdropped by leather interior, the lights casting odd shadows on his face, he looks near-sinister. But he leans forward to press a ballpoint pen into your hands and the illusion vanishes. "I think you'll find it quite to your liking. If you've finished your classes for the day, why not visit the property with me? Then you may decide whether you wish to participate."

You're not worried about that part. What worries you the most, however, is the fact that he's right. You are finished with classes for the day and you have nothing planned. You took today off from work. Your schedule is perfectly free.

But of course the Azul Ashengrotto wouldn't know that, would he?

The house is a smart home, equipped with every necessity and appliance. Everything's controlled by a remote here. It's not very far from your university either, built on a hill that overlooks houses below. It feels a little isolating and smells very new and clean. Like that fabled new car smell, only it's a house. But everything is so unique to you. Its minimalistic design is oddly cozy, and you can't help but feel enchanted the deeper you venture through the two-story home. It's all so unreal!

Azul gives you the rundown, explains how the remote and each button works. You can lock doors, open and close windows, mess with the thermostat, turn the home security on and off, and even start the oven. You hold the power to this home in the palm of your hands. It's immensely fascinating.

By the end of the tour, you're shaking his hand and signing his contract, agreeing to three months of study. Not only are you provided this nice home, you'll also be paid per week. And the pay is far more than you were making with your two jobs.

The android has a long, tongue-tying serial number, so to make things easier he's named Floyd. They even gave him a surname in preparation for the twin android who is being designed to complement and mirror him. He certainly looks human when you meet him, but there's this uncanny nature to his presence that slightly unnerves you. He's too perfect. Skin too smooth. Eyes too bright. Hair too soft. He towers over you, having to bend down to walk through the doorframe, and every movement he makes is very mechanical and stiff.

Still, you smile at him and offer your hand. "Hi there. I'm (Name). Your...housemate, I guess."

He nods, peering down at your hand before lifting his own. "Floyd Leech. At your service."

You were expecting to feel coldness, so you startle when his hand fits into yours and it's warm. It feels so very real. So deceptively lifelike. You wonder if he can regulate his own internal temperatures. Just how advanced is he?

"Right... Um, I look forward to getting to know you!"

He nods again, releasing your hand after a perfectly timed handshake.

Azul had given you a special number should you need to reach him or Idia. All you needed to do was phone it if at any point you were to feel confused or unsafe. "But I don't think you'll utilize it," he told you when you stood in the lab, watching Idia Shroud flit around to do final maintenance checks to ensure Floyd was ready for his first trial run. His eyes were open the entire time, two mismatched lights centered on you. His stare was listless, but somehow you felt as if he was looking through to your very soul. "He's very safe. In fact, he's programmed to assess and react appropriately to dangers of all kinds. You'll be safe with him around."

And safe you are.

You've always been alone, so it's nice to have a roommate, even if he only speaks when spoken to. It's awkward for all of one week until you ease into his pattern. From various vantage points throughout the house, Idia and Azul watch through hidden cameras. You cook your meals for yourself and Floyd watches, assisting when you order him to. You leave for class and Floyd waits by the door for you to return, standing stock-still for hours.

You lounge in the sitting room and put on all kinds of films. Action. Comedy. Horror. Floyd's eyes never leave the screen. But sometimes he watches you more than he watches the movie, noting all of your reactions. He doesn't understand why you get so emotional over sappy romances. So you explain it simply: "It evokes emotions. We all have emotions, and these movies make us feel them. Happy. Sad. Angry. Upset. Things like that."

But Floyd doesn't feel. Even so, he listens and he nods along, filing your answers away for later dissection. It's interesting.

By the end of the first month, Floyd's adopted new habits. Ever since you told him he's free to do as he pleases, he's taken to cooking your meals for you, doing your laundry, preparing your bag for the day. He's surprisingly good at it. He does chores when you leave for classes or work. And for the first time in a while you're excited to return home, knowing he's there waiting.

Floyd adds new words and phrases to his ever-expanding vocabulary. You watch a lot of TV together and he starts to use some of what he hears in his own speech. He picks up informal language quickly, and it isn't long until he's using words like sup or dunno instead of the rigid how are you? and I am unsure he was previously programmed with.

The first sign of unrest comes when you realize Floyd's also connected to the smart home. At first you didn't think it was a bad thing. After all, with him controlling it you won't have to worry about getting up to grab the remote if you've already sat down. Floyd can do that for you. But then the remote goes missing, later turning up shattered. You ask Floyd what happened and he looks at you and says, "Why use this piece of junk when you've got me?"

"Still... What if you're not able to help? What if you're in sleep mode and I need to open a window or something?" you argue, cradling the splinters of remote like they're an injured baby bird.

"That won't happen," he replies smoothly, issuing you a soothing smile. "I'm always gonna be here for ya. Count on it."

And you do because, by the time the three months are nearing their end and Floyd's developed into quite the companion, more and more human than he's ever seemed, you find yourself stuck.

No, not stuck. That's not quite right. You're more so trapped.

Floyd locks the doors, shutters the windows, turns off the lights. You're cowering in the closet, the only place that feels just a little safe in this moment. You can't reach Azul or Idia either. He's shut the power off, the internet connection, everything. The smart home on the hilltop feels like a tiny island now, and Floyd's the shark always circling it, waiting for you to dip your feet into the depths.

"C'mon, Shrimpy," he calls out, and it's a nickname you were once so fond of because he thought of it himself. "I already told ya I ain't gonna hurt ya. So just come out and talk to me."

You have no idea where you went wrong. Was it too many horror films? Was it the fact that you started to rely so heavily on him for companionship, ignoring your human friends in favor of staying in with Floyd? Or was it because he was blocking their numbers that you never received any messages and automatically assumed they were cutting contact? He said he'd always be here for you, so why to this degree?

The closet doors are thrown open. Floyd drags you, kicking and screaming, out by the ankles. Every camera has gone dark on Azul and Idia's end. All but one. The one in the bedroom. Floyd stares directly at it when he lifts you up and lays you on the bed, gentle and sugary-sweet.

He smiles and waves before that screen blanks out, leaving you truly trapped with him.

And because it's all experimental, morbid curiosity trumping ethical morals, no one comes to rescue you.

Three months is more of an indefinite forever in this lonesome smart home.

#meraki mumbles #yandere twst

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whositmcwhatsit · 9 months ago

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Enjoyable Slide to Oblivion

Like a lot of girls, Chancy Crawford had once been able to call herself one of Elvis's girlfriends, but that was long time ago. Now, she called herself his friend, or his 'cousin' if any of his girlfriends asked. It was just easier that way. And their relationship was all about being comfortable and easy. Until she gets asked to come and join a tour that seems endless and cursed.

AN: I'm not sure if anyone remembers I used to write silly stories, but here's the next installment of one I have neglected for too long. Thank you to everyone who continued to patiently message and let me know how much they liked the characters and very politely ask for the next chapter.

Thanks to @thatbanditqueen for injuring herself in order to give me motivation. And reading to check that I still remembered how to type words. You might need to remind yourself what happened before: Chapter 11 Chapter 12- Move Across the night sky, with those anonymous lights.

Pulling up to the gate of one of Elvis’ homes always invoked a strange combination of emotions in Chancy no matter how often she visited. Maybe it was the fact that there was always, always, at least a few people standing around ogling her curiously, but there was also the insecurity that this might be the time that the gates would not open for her, and the pride she felt at how much he had achieved, as well as an undeserved sense of personal achievement that she knew someone who had so much. That last one always made her feel guilty.

Harold kept her waiting, pretending that he needed to come to the window of her Chevrolet to see who she was and then saying he would have to call up to the house to check it was okay.

“Can’t be letting in just anyone, you know.” He went to the gatehouse and the gate began to open immediately. She smiled and pretended to be amused by his trick as she rolled past.

Chancy pulled up around the back near to the fence where the staff parked. Her car fit in better there than next to the limo and the Lincolns and the cadillacs. She glanced in the rear view mirror and checked her make-up hadn’t slid off her face in the humidity. Her air conditioning was busted, again- it only ever seemed to happen in the summer, a cosmic joke or a punishment.

Grabbing her two small, yellow travel cases, she swung the door shut with her hip and sighed, trying to force her heart to slow down by denying it oxygen. Just a visit, just a visit, she focused on the words and willed her heart to follow their rhythm.

“Well, hello there, Chancy.” She started and dropped one of her cases as Mr Presley approached her from the office, a smile on his plump face. He had that end of the day twinkle in his eye and Chancy mused how, between his twinkle and Mrs Presley’s dancing glow in her brown eyes when she was laughing, it was no wonder Elvis could incapacitate people with just a glance.

��Hi, Sir, it’s good to see you again!” She went to grab her fallen luggage, but Vernon reached it first and picked it up, adjusting his grip and miming like the case was heavy.

“My Lord, what do you have in here?!”

“Well, you know now a girl can’t give away the secrets needed to make her presentable, it’d spoil the magic, wouldn’t it?”

“I guess it would,” he agreed, still smiling slightly. “Though I reckon I need some magic to help this ole mug.”

“Nonsense! I was just about to ask you for your secret!”

Chancy could do this all day. In fact, she did do this all day; most of her job was buttering up clients and making them feel good about themselves. The fact that there was a slight ache to her cheeks as she smiled now was proof of how hard she worked.

“Well, you always were a sweet girl,” he returned, glancing over his shoulder at the house and tightening his lips. “Let me walk you in, I know Elvis is expecting you.” He reached out for her other case and she let him take it, puzzled since Vernon didn’t usually go out of his way to be helpful or even really acknowledge her much past a short, pleasant greeting.

On the way, they made small talk about the weather, which was the law in civilised society. One of them remarking on the heat, the other saying that it had to break soon. Debating whether it was hotter or cooler than previous years and then exchanging stories of the most extreme heat they had ever encountered. He told her about a time when he was a young man down in Mississippi and he was doing some work for a man who wore a hairpiece. The day got so hot that the glue melted and the hair started slipping when he spoke. No one was brave enough to tell him and lose the job. He mimed the man’s hair flying back and forth and how they had to all fight to keep their eyes from flicking from side to side with it. His laughter at his own story was infectious.

As they came in through the back door, he paused in the dim back hallway. Somewhere nearby she could hear a football game being played on television and men’s voices rising and falling as they questioned plays and commiserated.

“You know, it sure is good to see you, Chancy. Elvis’ mother always used to speak so highly of you and how well you took care of him.” He left the rest unspoken, looking behind him to the stairs to the basement, and then turning back and nodding at her.

“Thank you, Mr Presley,” she smiled, a little puzzled. She awkwardly fished back her cases and wondered if he was working up to something, and if she should wait.

Instead, he opened the door to the kitchen and motioned her in, wishing her a good night.

In the kitchen, Elvis’ aunt Delta was complaining about trying to buy something and how they had raised the price when she gave them the delivery address.

“Shouldn’t matter if it’s Tom, Dick or Elvis, if it’s fifty dollars it should stay fifty damn dollars. The nerve of people!” Her little dog was yipping and bouncing around her feet, excited by the heightened emotion in her voice. Mary, Elvis’ cook, her coat on like she had been trying to leave for some time, agreed with her, nodding her head wholeheartedly.

They both turned to look at Chancy as she paused by the counter with a faint smile of anticipation. It was always a roll of the dice which side of Delta you would get, but that evening was a good day, because they exchanged greetings and Chancy was invited into the story of the new chair that had started out as fifty dollars and became one hundred once it was destined for Graceland.

“One hundred dollars, my ass! I said, it’s for me, not Elvis and we both of us have enough sense not to waste another fifty dollars on some piece of-”

The phone rang on the wall by where Delta was sitting at the breakfast bar and she snatched it up, listened for a minute, and then nodded to her.

“Elvis said to go ahead and go on up.”

Chancy had to temper her speed as she moved through the kitchen, heading towards the back stairs.

“I’m sorry you didn’t get your chair,” she shrugged, stepping onto the first tread.

“Oh honey, I got the chair, and a little table to boot. Soon’s I told ‘em that I’d go home and say what a rat-infested flea-ridden store they had and how we ain’t never gonna shop there again, we got the friends and family discount too.”

“Well, they’ll know better than to mess with you next time, Mrs Biggs. I might need to get some tips from you for when I have to negotiate with my suppliers.”

As she was climbing the stairs, she heard Delta say:

“Honey, I don’t think you need any help from anybody trying to get anything.”

Her foot momentarily faltered as her body wanted her to stop and march back down, but her brain won out just barely and forced her to continue her climb. By the time she had opened and closed all the doors that marked her journey, she was pretty sure she had knocked her case into her left shin enough times to leave a bruise, and she paused just inside Elvis’ office to run a finger under each eye to catch the slowly dripping mascara. She tapped on the door and waited to hear a low murmur of assent before she pushed the slightly ajar door open.

Elvis was sitting on his enormous bed with the newspaper laid out before him, apparently deeply engrossed in it, though she knew he had to have been watching the monitors at least a couple of minutes ago to know that she had arrived.

“Oh no! I think there’s been some mistake!” she lisped in a high voice. “The man at the reception desk said that this was my room.” She whirled around, wide-eyed, in the doorway. “This is room 385631.6 and half, right?”

Elvis smirked, his lips and cheekbones all curves as his eyes narrowed. His voice was a little thick like his tongue was still waking up.

“Damn, they must’ve double booked the rooms again, and, you know, I heard the clerk say that they were full up, no vacancies.” He clenched his jaw and shook his head like he was genuinely upset and disappointed in the ‘hotel’.

“Right,” she responded. “I guess that’ll be because of the convention?”

He nodded, rising slowly and stepping closer to her, his fingertips tickling her wrist.

“Uh huh, right, the, uh, One-eyed Albino Python Lovers of America convention,” he nodded, turning away as he almost broke.

“Oh, yeah, that’s a popular one,” she murmured, hearing him snort over his shoulder, and fighting to keep her face straight.

“Well,” he sighed with a sense of inevitability, turning back to her. “I guess there’s only one thing for it.” He shrugged with his whole body, throwing up his arms. “We’ll just have to share the room.”

“That seems like that’s all there is to it,” she agreed in her ditsy high voice.

“You sure your boyfriend won’t mind, uh, Miss…?”

“Tallulah-Wanda, and I don’t have a boyfriend.”

“You don’t, huh. Well, I guess I’m just fixing problems all over the place tonight.” He pulled her into a clinch worthy of one of his movies, dipping her down so that she dropped her cases and grabbed his shoulders for safety. They broke apart and smiled breathlessly at each other for a minute.

“One-eyed Albino Python Lovers,” she muttered, slapping his shoulder. He smirked and pulled her back up.

“What? I’m telling ya, Tallulah baby, it’s a real group.”

“Uh huh, and I bet you’ve met quite a few members.”

“I meet a lot of people,” he replied evasively. He grabbed her jaw and kissed her hard on the mouth. “How was your day?”

She paused, surprised by the question. “Uh, it was fine, thank you for asking. How was yours?”

“Honey, I woke up less than two hours ago,” he pointed out, with a wry lift of his eyebrow.

“Right, right, I’m in the Elvis time zone now. Gotta adjust my clock accordingly. How was your breakfast?” He rolled his eyes and tugged her towards him, cradling the back of her head as he kissed her.

“That’s enough of that,” he murmured, though he didn’t elaborate on what ‘that’ was, just steered her around and nudged her backwards towards the bed. “Gotta unwrap my present here.” He tugged on her pale pink pussycat bow, teasing the ends out from where they were tucked into her low scooped waistcoat and pulling the loose knot free.

“You want me to give you my scarf?” she murmured, keeping her voice low to hide how affected she was. “Hmm, that’s a twist.”

The corner of his mouth lifted slightly, but he seemed absorbed in his task, letting her silky scarf flutter off to the side as he studied her. She returned the favour, noting how fair his lashes looked in the daylight. His face was fuller, maybe because he hadn’t been well, but his colour was better than when she had last seen him at her house.

Biting his lip slightly, he unbuttoned her waistcoat, but there was nothing seductive or gentle about his movements. She genuinely felt like a gift given to an overexcited six year old. The waistcoat went in the other direction to her scarf, quickly followed by her heels.

“I’ll show you where your things are,” he said, pulling away and holding out a hand. She had to tamp down a smile as she let him lead her, padding behind him in her stockinged feet.

That morning, she had deliberately dressed up in her most businesslike outfit, stopping just short of wearing pants, because she knew he wouldn’t like it. Not to antagonise him exactly, but there had definitely been something pointed in her choice. Some barbed reminder that she was a whole person with a successful, fulfilling life that went on out of his sight line. She wasn’t one of the no doubt many girls around the country just waiting for his call, their life outside of him just filler that happened between their time with him.

In the ‘guest’ dressing room off his office, he showed her the row of plastic covered outfits that he had bought her on tour as if they had been there ever since he returned and not, as was more likely, hastily moved in that day after the last girl had left.

“You don’t like what I’m wearing?” she asked as he hovered in the doorway. He shifted uncomfortably and opened his mouth, clearly still formulating his reply. “I’m teasing you. Go on now, let me change.”

“Oughta tan your hide,” he muttered, giving her a sideways look as he retreated from the door. “Don’t change your hair.”

“Saying please don’t hurt you know!” she called out the door.

“I know!” he hollered back from presumably the bedroom.

In the small dusky pink dressing room, Chancy deliberately did not touch any drawers, no matter how painfully her curiosity niggled at her. She tried to be as dispassionate as she would be in a communal dressing room, which, essentially, it was. She made sure not to make a mess and folded her own clothes neatly, putting them back into her case.

There were a few toiletries sitting on top of the dressing table and she leant over them in order to apply more make up to her eyes, appreciating the good lighting. When she had finished, she checked that she had not left a trace and came back out into the office.

Elvis was sat at his desk with Joe standing over him and murmuring into his ear, his arms spanning the desk and the back of Elvis’ chair. His broad back blocked Elvis from her view. The body language could not have been clearer.

Without stopping, she tiptoed past them towards the bedroom, still holding her bags.

“Hey, what are you doing?” Elvis snapped over the top of Joe’s low mumbling. Chancy glanced over her shoulder almost guiltily.

“Going in there? I got changed like you said.” Elvis visibly relaxed, his face smoothing and shoulders dropping.

“I thought you were ducking out on me. What you got your bags there for?”

“I didn’t want to leave all my things lying about. I’m trying to change my messy ways, you know.” He shook his head and waved his hand back towards the dressing room.

“No, go ahead and put everything in there, honey, that’s yours.” She hesitated, but Joe had already resumed his whispering and Elvis was frowning at the console of his desk with its screen and knobs and switches. So, she tucked her cases inside the door of the dressing room and speed-walked past them back into the bedroom.

The curtains were closed and, though the lamps were lit, the room still felt dark to Chancy. This was not helped by the enormous bed that was clad in black every way from the headboard to the bedcovers. She perched on it primly, her feet barely skimming the floor. She didn’t like that, being reminded that she was short. It made her feel like the room was patting her on the head somehow.

Instead, she pushed off the bed and scanned the shelves of the units, smiling a little at the framed photos of a blond little girl and running her finger over the ornaments, some of them clearly from fans.

There were a few records scattered around the record player, their labels a mess of scrawled handwriting that revealed them to be demos. And there were books, piles and piles of books with fuzzy, slightly scary titles like ‘The search for…’, ‘A Study of…’, ‘Explore the world of…’

One caught her eye, a small, slim volume with exotic gold patterns etched into the worn covers. She glanced up at the door before she opened it to the foreword. It was Sufi poetry translated from the original Persian. Chancy pressed her fingers to the pages in wonder, trying to make it fit into the already complex and contradictory picture of Elvis she held in her mind.

The man himself burst into the room, slamming the door shut behind him, but he stopped short when he saw her standing by the shelves as if he had forgotten she was in there. She could see him biting down and breathing hard, his nostrils flaring, like he was trying to change gears while still accelerating.

She didn’t say anything, looking back down at the book and reading the first poem silently to herself, giving him time to collect himself without being observed, to leave without feeling obligated or ask her to leave. She felt him as he drew close to her, his chest brushing her shoulder.

“It’s good, you should borrow it when I’m done,” he said quietly, calmly. She smiled as she took her hand away from the page and turned towards him.

“What’s it about?”

“I- I can’t exactly say,” he shrugged. “It makes me feel like words and ideas, even sermons and laws, they’re just getting in the way and confusing people, distracting them from the truth and the real essence of God, you know. I-I-I ain’t saying it right, but the guys in this book, they pull back the curtain, you know, and you feel like you’ve caught a glimpse of something, just for a moment, that’s greater and truer than anything else.”

Chancy tilted her head, letting that sink in.

“I do think I’d like to read it after you, thank you.” He leant past her and picked it up.

“Here, take it, honey. I can get another. Ignore the scribbling though, sometimes I just gotta work things out in my head. Try and get things straight, you know.”

“No, Elvis, I can’t, not if you’re enjoying it! I can wait until you’re done.”

“Baby, I want you to. Like I said, I can get another. And we can talk about it when you’re done reading it. I don’t- I don’t have no one I can discuss these things with. They all just get this damn pie-eyed look on their faces like ole Elvis’s gone nuts and they don’t know who to call to fix it.” He crossed his eyes and pulled a silly face while he pushed the book into her chest until she took hold of it.

“That’s dumb,” she murmured, cradling the book to her chest. “Everyone knows you already went crazy years ago.”

“Yeah, well whose fault was that,” he returned, gritting his teeth and pushing his forehead against hers, smushing the tip of her nose. She wrapped her arms around his waist and drew him closer, simultaneously loving and resenting the almost painful wave of relief that rolled over her as she nestled into his arms and felt his soft lips brush against hers. The big sigh he let out as he squeezed her in tighter at least let her know that she wasn’t alone in this comfort trap.

“I missed this silly little face,” he murmured, one hand gripping her jaw playfully but gently.

“Really? This one?” She crossed her eyes and scrunched up her nose, tightening her lips so that it looked like she had buck teeth.

In response, he wrapped one big hand over her face and put a little pressure into it, nudging her backwards. She went with it, trusting him not to have her tumbling on her butt down the stairs. The side of the bed pressed into the back of her legs and she grabbed him by the biceps to stop herself from falling backwards.

“You missed me too, right?” he almost whispered, leaning down to kiss her again. “Tell me you missed me, Cha Cha.”

Chancy heard her own voice as if it came from far away, muffled and almost whiny with longing.

“I missed you, Elvis.” She continued to kiss him even as he turned his head slightly. She could feel his cheek bunch beneath her lips as he smiled, enjoying her affection. “I missed you, I missed you.” She felt his faint stubble grazed against her lips as she let them trail down his cheek and under his jaw. He was bent slightly at the knees so that she could reach, rubbing his thumb around in little circles on her back. Her awareness narrowed to only those points of sensation, the thumb circles on her back, the tingle on her lips, the warmth down her front.

The phone started trilling. They both looked at it blankly for a second, before Elvis straightened and sighed, going to answer.

Whatever was being said on the other end of the line irritated Elvis, he mumbled one word answers until he slammed the receiver back onto the hook.

Without a word, he disappeared into his bathroom and left her yet again wandering around his room, running her fingers over his belongings and trying to pretend that she belonged there. She opened her new book at a random page and let her eyes trip across the words:

“That’s how you came here, like a star,

Without a name…”

She had no idea what it meant, but it sounded beautiful. She murmured it under her breath, finishing with a sharp inhale as Elvis stormed back out of his bathroom clad in a long leather coat, gloves and carrying a police flashlight.

“C’mon, we’re getting out of here.”

Billy was waiting at the bottom of the kitchen stairs, hands shoved into his jeans pockets. He grinned, reflecting Elvis’ smirk as they converged in the kitchen.

“They fell for it, huh?” Elvis remarked, knocking Billy’s shoulder with his knuckles.

“Uh huh, I told ‘em we’d meet ‘em on up ahead.” “Joe bitchin’ and whining about it, I bet,” Elvis remarked gleefully, heading towards the back door with Billy beside him. Chancy trailed them, wondering what the hell was going on.

The wall of wet heat hit as soon as they stepped outside and Chancy shook her head as she stared at Elvis’ broad back wrapped in black leather even as she was peeling tendrils of her hair away from her damp neck and face.

Elvis was too busy crowing over his ability to fool everyone to notice the temperature. He and Billy were joking and laughing about it as they passed the car port and continued on down towards the back gate near where Chancy had parked her car. On the road was a white Cadillac coupe with an old, black truck behind it.

Billy tossed some keys to Elvis, who was still laughing as he got into the truck, but Billy’s smile faded as he turned away and he looked at Chancy with something close to reproach. She couldn’t think why he would be mad with her or blame her when she had no idea what was going on. He was the one going along with whatever crazy plan Elvis had come up with.

“Is anyone going to tell me what’s going on?” she asked nobody in particular.

“Shh, we’re being sneaky!” Elvis whispered in an Elmer Fudd voice, leaning out the window. “C’mon, Cha Cha, get in!”

She looked to Billy again, hoping for something that made more sense, but he had already climbed into the Cadillac and the back gate was opening. Elvis beckoned her and she hurriedly circled the truck and jumped in.

As they pulled out into the narrow road that ran down the side of the church next door, Elvis accelerated slightly and gave the Cadillac in front a little nudge on the bumper, grinning so wide that his dimples made an appearance.

“Uh, shouldn’t you have your lights on?” Chancy asked, goosebumps of anticipation nonetheless breaking out over her arms as she caught his infectious excitement.

“Now that wouldn’t be very sneaky of little old us, would it.”

“Billy’s got his on.”

“Exactly!”

Ahead of them, Billy pulled out onto the highway and faintly they could hear a few people shouting. Elvis waited, engine idling with his lights off. Chancy watched him expectantly as he tapped his thumbs on the top of the steering wheel, humming quietly under his breath. He seemed to become aware of her eyes and glanced towards her, eyes narrow and cheekbones brimming with mirth.

“Being bad feels good, don’t it?”

“It might, if I knew what we were doing.” He didn’t reply, just flew out onto the highway, switching on his lights at the last minute and swerving around the oncoming traffic.

Eyes on the rear view mirror, he murmured, “I bet they’re shitting a brick right about now, man. Serves ‘em right, serves ‘em right. I tell you, boy…”

“So we’re not going to the recording studio?” Chancy asked, mainly to remind him that she was in the car too and he didn’t need to talk to himself.

“You catch on fast, don’t you,” he remarked, shooting her a sideways look. “Baby, what are you doing all the way over there?” He reached blindly across the bench seat and clamped a hand on her thigh, trying to drag her closer to him. She made a series of unladylike noises as she left behind half of the skin from the back of thighs on the warm leather.

“Where are we going then?” she inquired, once she was flush against him, her forearm resting on his thigh and her cheek stuck to his coat.

“Well…” He tailed off. “Where would you like to go?” She bit down on her lip as he made himself sound very magnanimous and not at all like he hadn’t thought his great escape plan all the way through.

“I haven’t had anything to eat since lunch,” she reasoned. “Maybe we could-” He took a sharp turn that almost sent her sprawling. “Or maybe we could not die, Elvis, how about that?!”

He snorted and glanced at her with his eyebrow quirked playfully. She swatted at him, because he knew exactly what to do to take the heat out of her irritation, leaving her with just the intellectual understanding that she should feel annoyed.

“Poor widdle Cha Cha, all moody and mad cos she’s hungry,” he murmured in that damn baby voice again. She was about to swat him a little harder when he did a double take out of his side window. “Hey, you know, I ran out of gas there one time.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah, back when I was starting out. It was one of the first times it got really crazy, boy. The cops had to come out and everything. It was wild.”

“Uh huh, getting a ride in the back of a police car to the gas station is not something you ever forget. Especially after I got back and some girl called me your whore.”

Chancy watched his face as his brain worked overtime, recalling the little details that he usually airbrushed from the patter he gave his dates as he took them on a personal tour of his home town, like who else had been there.

“They called you a whore?” he echoed finally, focusing on the detail where he had no culpability. “I didn't know that.”

“Well, it wasn't something I would've wanted to repeat.”

It had been the first time she had been the victim of jealous, spiteful resentment, but not nearly the last. She shook her head like she could dislodge the echoes of embarrassment, hurt and outrage she had felt.

“Besides, you didn’t even remember I was there!” She smacked his leg and turned away slightly, playing at being mad.

“Honey, I did! I-I remember, I was just testing you!”

“Uh huh,” she murmured. “Well, I guess I passed.”

“With flying colours,” He hit her with a poorly aimed kiss on the ear as he steered the truck into a parking lot. Chancy glanced around and realised he had pulled into Dairy Queen.

“You do take me to the fanciest places,” she teased, already moving to climb out.

“Well, I only know of two ways to get you out of this mood you’re in,” he returned with irritating insight. “One’s food and the other… Well, we’re in public, honey, you know.” She felt so much better about the shiver she had to fight back when she saw that, despite the naughty look on his face, he had gone pink.

“You are terrible,” she informed him. “Hey, where are you going?” He paused as he pushed open his door.

“There’s only one way out,” he replied, looking bemused.

“You can’t go in there!” she exclaimed, then wanted to rewind time and roll her tongue back in, because the one way to guarantee Elvis would do something was to tell him that he couldn’t. “Baby, you don’t have any of the guys with you. It’s not safe.”

“It’s late, Cha Cha, I’m not letting you go in there by yourself,” he returned. Then, she witnessed the exact same expression of regret cover his face that must have shone from hers moments before. Because telling her that she wasn’t allowed to do something was like firing a starting pistol.

“It’s not exactly Times Square.”

“I don’t give a damn. Cha Cha, honey, you got all kinds of characters out there now, crazy sonsofbitches and losers strung out on all these fucking drugs they’re pushing on the streets. Baby- Baby, you don’t understand because you don’t know what it’s really like.” She bristled at the condescending tone and folded her arms over her grumbling stomach.

“Well, then it’s not safe for either of us.”

After ten minutes of silent sulking and hunger, they came to a compromise. Chancy would go in and order the food, and Elvis would park as close as possible with his gun ready just in case.

As silly as she knew all that was, Chancy still felt tingles of apprehension as she pulled on the metal bar and opened the door.

At that time of the evening, the place was full of teenagers hanging out and families grabbing a treat on the way home from the movies. None of them really spared her a look apart from a few pleasant smiles as she made her way to the counter.

Not long later, she was juggling a sack and two milkshakes and stopped to thank a man who had jumped up to hold the door for her. He smiled back, nodding at her chest rather than her face.

Turning towards the truck, she let out a little gasp as she saw a small knot of people standing by the driver’s door. Her heart hammering, she glanced towards the phone booth at the front of the parking lot, wondering if she would have to make a call to Graceland to get someone out to help.

As she drew closer, she saw that it was just an older couple and their children. As long as they made a getaway before they attracted any more attention they would be okay.

When she climbed in the cab, Elvis was signing a scrap of paper, what looked like a receipt, and he handed it over, ruffling the young son on the head. Chancy kept her head down so as not to attract notice. The only problem was that the family did not seem satisfied with the autograph and small talk and lingered, forcing Elvis to say that they had to leave. They even took a few steps forward as he backed out, like they were going to follow them on foot.

“Just can’t stay out of trouble for a minute, can you,” she remarked, handing him his milkshake.

“Well, you were gone so damn long,” he complained, spilling a little of the shake on his pants as he tried to negotiate the road. “Goddamn it! She quickly retrieved the paper cup before it was thrown, possibly at her. He was still swearing as he pulled into a rest area, the frosty drink slowly trickling into uncomfortable places.

Seeing his mood souring, she grabbed a napkin from the sack but hid it at her side.

“Don’t worry, I’ll get it,” she exclaimed brightly, ducking her head down towards his lap.

“Chancy, no!” His voice went impossibly high, breathless and panicked.

She burst out laughing, she couldn’t help it, and tossed the napkin at him as she collapsed against the back of the seat, gasping and giggling, wiping her eyes. She tried to get herself under control as he irritably wiped at his pants with the napkin, muttering under his breath, but every time she looked at him, all kitted out in his flashy badass outfit, she kept hearing his panicked protest like he was a sweet virgin being propositioned by an over amorous date.

“Don’t see what’s so goddamn funny,” he snapped. “My fucking pants are ruined.”

“I’m sorry,” she replied, her voice quivering very slightly as she bit on the inside of her cheek. “I…” She started laughing again and he smacked the steering wheel and started the engine, shaking his head. “No, baby, no, I’m sorry!” She lifted her milkshake and tipped it slightly as if she was going to dump the whole thing in her own lap. “Look, you give me the word and we’ll match. Want me to?”

A fast diesel truck rattling by startled her and she jerked slightly, causing a large drop to splat onto her bare leg.

“Damn, that’s cold!” she hissed. His eyes twinkled and a slow smile crept across his face. She realised that there was a very real possibility that he was about to knock the cup over her and almost resigned herself to it.

“You’re crazy, you know that,” he remarked, before very slowly and deliberately leaning down and licking the milkshake from her thigh. He punctuated that by opening his mouth and pretending to take a bite of her, his teeth leaving a faint imprint in her pale skin under the light of the cab. Holding her breath, Chancy now understood how fish felt drowning on dry land.

They ate their food at the rest stop without much chat. Elvis was still mad at her for laughing at him. It was always a sore point for him, and she sensed that he was embarrassed by his unfiltered reaction to the idea of her going down on him in public. He always loved to give off the impression that he was unflappable, that there was no boundary that he would not push and no impulse he would not indulge, but that wasn’t true. Not really.

Licking the salt from her fingers, she leant up and kissed his cheek as he chewed the last of his third burger. He didn’t reciprocate, but nor did he move away, just looked out the window at the shadowy brush. She stuffed the wrappers into the empty sack and slid a little closer to him, her bent knees knocking into his thigh.

Rising on her knees, she nudged her nose into the hair at his temple, pressing butterfly kisses into his skin, catching her lip on the arm of his sunglasses. His fingers tapped on the ledge of his open window, almost like she was keeping him from a more pressing appointment, and she wondered if his mood had sunk too low to be recovered. She started to draw back, but the firm line of his arm just behind her shoulders stopped her retreat.

She studied him, looking down from his turned cheek to where the tendon in his neck was just visible above his turned-up collar as he craned his head away from her. Almost tentatively, she pressed her lips against it, feeling his pulse pounding beneath the salty skin. She lapped at it with tiny kitten licks until he jerked away, trying to hide his smile.

Leaning forward, he started the engine and pulled back out onto the road, executing a neat u-turn so that they were heading north.

“Where are we going now?”

“Gotta get you back to the nuthouse before they send out the guys with straitjackets,” he replied, shooting her a sly grin.

“Uh huh, I’m sure it’d be me they were looking for,” she replied, settling herself down at his side. He just kept smiling, dropping his hand into her lap and entwining their fingers. That didn’t last long, because he had to keep twiddling the dial of the radio every time the deejay started talking.

“Wasn’t that George?” she asked, as he abruptly twisted the knob again, muttering a curse word. “I don’t care who it was,” he snapped. “Don’t talk over the goddamn song. What’s the point of them even playing songs if they’re gonna-” He let out some high pitched gibberish that sounded like an irate chipmunk after sucking helium.

“So, where’s next on the famous Elvis’ hometown tour?” “Aw, honey, there’s no…” He didn’t even bother finishing his lie. “There ain’t no point showing you, you know more about it than I do. I ever end up writing that book about my life, you’ll be there…’No, Elvis, it didn’t happen like that, I was there.’” She shook her head at his usual high-pitched impression of her.

“The two of us in rocking chairs, me trying to edit every story,” she added. “In my head, you’re old when you’re writing this life story.”

She felt her cheeks heat as she had basically admitted that she pictured them together when they were old. That was giving away too much and also trying to take too little.

If he noticed her embarrassment or thought that the idea of them being together when they were old was far-fetched, he didn’t show it, huffing a laugh as he guided them back through more familiar streets. “We’re going back? So soon?” She thought of all the people back at the house, likely some annoyed employees and some tense phone calls to be made. She wondered if they would get to sneak out like this again during her stay, and considered that plans would probably be put in place to stop that happening.

“Well,” he bounced a closed fist against the inside of the truck door. “I gotta change my damn pants and… It seems like you might still be in a bad mood, honey. I think it might be time to try the second thing.”

Tag lIst: @richardslady121, @dkayfixates, @fallinlovewithurlove, @notstefaniepresley, @heartbrake-hotel , @freudianslumber , @bbrtt777, @18lkpeters , @prompted-wordsmith, @literally-just-elvis-fics , @eliseinmemphis @lookingforrainbows , @stylespresleyhearted , @amydarcimarie , @returntopresley, @savedrebelcreation, @lettersfromvenus , @littlehoneyposts, @joshuntildawn13, @i-r-i-n-a-a, @from-memphis-with-love, @ellie-24, @be-my-ally, @vintageshanny

#elvis presley #70s elvis #elvis fanfic #elvis x oc #elvis fanfiction #elvis presley fanfic #elvis presley fanfiction #enjoyable slide to oblivion #whositmcwhatsit #Consider this my dessicated zombie hand breaking through the ground and finding the world above has changed beyond recognition

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soupiiiie · 21 days ago

Note

Not sure, but I was thinking about Josh either reader who is a famous singer and they have been dating for a while now and maybe she goes to the Clancy tour with them/they go to some sort of award show together

Rewarding

Josh Dun x famous!reader

words : 1224

warnings : none

I hope this is good, I feel kinda iffy about it...

Fixing my hair for the final time, I glanced beside me at Josh looking handsome as ever in his suit. Tyler sat across from us next to Jenna in the limo, all four of us dressed to the nines for the award show. Over the past 2 years, I have been working on my third album. When it was released, all of my fans and Twenty One Pilots fans got it to number one on a bunch of charts. So much so that I was nominated for a Grammy. I of course brought Josh, my boyfriend, as my date, and I had to bring Tyler and Jenna. They'd been my best friends since I met Josh and helped a ton while making the album.

The limo finally stopped at our destination and my hands shook slightly. Noticing this, Josh grabbed my hand and rubbed his thumb over my knuckles, “Hey, they love you, there’s nothing to worry about, okay?” he whispered quietly to me. I nodded and swallowed thickly. He kissed the side of my head and the door to the limo opened. Lights flashing all around us were blinding, fans were standing behind velvet ropes and security guards stood at either side of the door. Josh stepped out first and held his hand to help me get out. I took it and stepped out, Tyler and Jenna following soon after.

“Y/n we love you!” “Oh my gosh Twenty One Pilots?!” “I love you y/n!” “We hope you win y/n!”

Fans were yelling toward us and we just smiled and waved every so often. I was already beginning to get overwhelmed with all of the paparazzi and noise. Josh gently squeezed my hand reassuringly and I squeezed back. We walked through the doors to the venue and were met with even more paparazzi and a photo-op section. We all stood with each other for photos and I was pulled aside by an interviewer. Josh, Tyler and Jenna stayed back for more photos.

“So y/n big day huh? We’ve heard that you’re nominated for 3 Grammy's tonight, how do you feel?” The interviewer, a young woman, asked me.

I smiled and nodded along, “I’m super excited to be here with my team and friends but also nervous. I don’t have a speech prepared.” The woman laughed lightly and continued with another question.

“We see you brought a Grammy winning band with you tonight, maybe they’ll give you some of their good luck?” she motioned toward Josh and Tyler standing with a reporter, Tyler with his arm around Jenna.

“Yes, my boyfriend Josh is with me of course and I couldn’t be here without Tyler and Jenna. All three of them have been absolutely amazing and supportive. It wasn’t easy making an album while on tour with them.” I smiled toward Josh as he made brief eye contact with me and came toward me wrapping an arm around my waist and kissing me on the top of my head.

“Well y/n, we hope to see you go home with an award tonight, good luck!” I smiled at her and shook her hand. After catching back up with Tyler and Jenna, the four of us went inside the theater to find our seats.

“Does it feel weird to be here a second time?” I looked toward the three next to me.

“It feels weird to be here with my pants on.” Tyler smiled and Jenna just laughed and shook her head. I laughed along with her rolled my eyes

“Josh, if I win, can you promise to keep your pants on?” He gave me a small smirk.

“No promises sweetheart.” Rolling my eyes jokingly, I sat down in my seat and we waited patiently for the ceremony to begin.

Soon enough, the lights dimmed and it started. After a ton of applauding and singing along to some performances, it was finally time to announce the main award I was nominated for. My palms grew clammy and I grabbed both Josh and Jenna’s hands. Josh smiled at me and they read of the nominees, we were shown on the big screen as the announcer named us.

“And the winner,” Taking a deep breath, I squeezed Josh’s hand and he put his own over top of mine. “ for best album goes to… y/n with (album name)!” I gasped and looked at Josh with wide eyes.

He smiled back at me and I stood to walk onto the stage for my award, the audience cheering loudly behind me. I shook the announcer's hands and stepped to the microphone, award in hand. “Thank you so much for this. I want to thank my friends who are here with me tonight, you guys kept me sane. And I want to give the biggest thank you to my wonderful boyfriend who’s also with me tonight. I couldn’t have done any of this without you. I love you. Finally, thank you, thank you so much to my amazing fan base. You are the reason I do this.” I smiled and stepped to the side and started toward the stairs back to my seat.

“Y/n everybody!” The announcers spoke and a roar of applause was heard. When I sat back in my seat, Josh kissed my hand lightly. “See, I knew you could do it, and my pants are still on.” I chuckled at him and turned toward Jenna and Tyler.

“We’re so proud of you y/n. I knew you could do it.” Jenna squeezed my other hand and Tyler nodded beside her.

After the show came to a close, we exited the venue with another slew of photos taken and questions answered. One limo ride and a bunch of celebratory car karaoke later, Josh and I had been dropped off at Josh’s house. We said goodbyes to Jenna and Tyler and went inside. My feet were cramping from being squished into heels all night and my dress was becoming itchy.

“Would you please unzip my Josh?” I asked with my back turned toward him.

“It would be my pleasure hun.” He smiled and unzipped my dress, kissing my shoulder as I slid it off of my body, “I’m so proud of you baby. You deserve the world for all of your hard work.” I blushed and went to put on my pajamas.

“Thank you babe. It feels nice to know that people love what I make for them.” He agreed and walked into the bathroom to get ready for bed. I followed and after brushing our teeth, we climbed into bed. Josh’s arm wrapped around me and I was pulled into his chest. I breathed in his scent and a wave of calm washed over me. “Even if I hadn’t won an award tonight, this feels just as rewarding.”

He lifted my chin slightly, “I love you so much,” and with that, he kissed me sweetly, smiling into it. I pulled back for a moment.

“I love you too.” Leaning back into the kiss, his smile widened. We pulled apart and I laid my head on his chest, letting his heartbeat lull me to sleep. A kiss was placed atop my head and a small goodnight was whispered before my heavy eyelids gave way and sleep took over.

I was the luckiest girl in the world.

#twenty one pilots #josh dun #tyler joseph #tylerjoseph #top #josh dun x reader #twenty one pilots x reader #fluff #grammys #award #josh dun x reader fluff #twenty one pilots fluff #twenty one pilots imagine #josh dun fluff #josh dun imagine

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nationwidecarservice · 11 months ago

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partybusrentalpittsburgh10 · 11 months ago

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Party Bus Rental Pittsburgh for Christmas Lights Tour

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aliciavance4228 · 1 month ago

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Here's a list with obscure deities from Greco-Roman Mythology to obssess about

Aceso: The goddess of the healing process and Asclepcius' daughter;

Achlys: The goddess of the eternal night, aka the Mist of Death;

Agon: The greek god of competition;

Alala: The goddess of the war cry, daughter of Polemos and one of Ares' attendants;

Alke: The goddess of battle-strenght and Eris' daughter;

Amechania: Apparently the ancient greeks did have a goddess of helplessness too.

Apate: A daughter of Nyx and the goddess of deceit;

Arete: She's more a concept than an actual deity. From what I found, her name means virtue, in the sense of being the best version of yourself or reaching tour highest potential. She was supposed to personify that;

Aristaeus: A minor god primarily known for rustic arts like beekeeping and cheesemaking. And Eurydice's assaulter;

Arke: Iris' sister who was thrown intk Tartarus after betraying the gods and becoming a messager for the titans;

Atë: Eris' daughter and the goddess of mischief, delusion, folly, and reckless impulsiveness that leads to ruin;

Bia: The goddess and personification of force;

Caerus: Very obscure guy and the god of opportunity;

Ceto: An early sea goddess and the mother of the Gorgons, the Graia, Echidna and the Hesperian Dragon;

Cybele: A Phrygian Mother Goddess, her cult being very popular in Anatolia once;

Dike: Goddess of mortal justice and fair judgment;

Dolos: God of trickery and guile, and a former apprentice to Prometheus;

Dysnomia: Daughter of Eris and goddess of lawlessness;

Eleos: A daughter of Nyx and the personification of pity, mercy, clemency, and compassion;

Endovelicus: Worshipped only by the romans, and apparently a deity who came from the Lisutanian Mythology. He was the god of healing and light.

Epione: The goddess of the soothing of pain and Asclepcius' wife;

Eucleia, Eupheme, Euthenia and Philophrosyne: Hephaestus and Aglaea's daughters;

Geras: Son of Nyx and the god of old age;

Homados: God of the noise of battle and all the blood-curdling screaming that implies;

Homonia: Goddess of concord, unanimity, and oneness of mind;

Hygieia: A daughter of Asclepcius and the personification of health, cleanliness, and sanitation;

Iaso: Daughter of Asclepius and the goddess of recuperation from illness;

Janus: Present only in the Roman Mythology, Janus was the god of doorways, gates, transitions, and beginnings and endings;

Kratos: Apparently he actually existed in Greek Mythology, but he was the god of strenght and power;

Limos: Daughter of Eris and the goddess of starvation;

Lyssa: Daughter of Nyx and the goddess of mad rage, frenzy and rabies in animals;

Mithras: Besides the fact that he was a roman god worshipped by a popular mystery cult there are few things known about him;

Momus: Son of Nyx and the god of satire, mockery, censure, writers, and poets;

Moros: Son of Nyx and the god of impending doom;

Oizys: Daughter of Nyx and the goddess of misery;

Pamacea: Daughter of Asclepcius and the goddess of universal remedy;

Peitho: Goddess of persuasion and seduction;

Penia: Goddess of poverty and need;

Phorcys: God of the mysterious dangers of the deep and Ceto's husband;

Plutus: God of wealth;

Polemos: Personification of war;

Ponos: God of hard labor and toil;

Porus: God of plenty and a son of Metis, making him the half-brother of Athena;

Praxidike: The goddess of judicial punishment and the exactor of vengeance;

Priapus: A minor fertility god, known for trying to rape Hestia once and his large equipment;

Ptocheia: Greek goddess of beggary;

Quirnius: An early roman god of Rome itself as a city state.

Seilenos: The god of drunkeness and crushing grapes under foot to make wine and the godfather of Dionysus;

Soteria and Soter: The goddess and god of safety and deliverance from harm;

Zelus: The personification of dedication, emulation, eager rivalry, envy, jealousy, and zeal. Had wings like his siblings (Nike, Kratos and Bia) and was an enforcer for Zeus that stood about his throne;

#greek mythology #greek gods #minor gods #greco roman

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lomllover · 2 years ago

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grammys day

summary: y/n and harry are there to support each other at the grammys

warnings: so much fluff omg

pairings: husband!harry x fem!reader

word count:

"Y/N and Harry over here, to your right!!"

"Jesus, they're so loud and demanding." Harry said loud enough so only you could hear which made you let out a giggle.

"That's their job, H." You turned to look at him and picked up your dress with one hand and held his hand in the other. "Lets keep going, yeah?"

As the pictures went on, the more Jeff nagged the both of you to hurry up otherwise you’d be late for your performance and Harry would be late for his. “Jeffery, calm down its gonna be okay.” You jokingly reassured him and climbed into the limo. “H, let’s take a picture.” You handed Jeff your phone to take a picture and smiled at Harry as he pressed a kiss to your cheek then made you face him so he could kiss you on the lips.

Jeff made a fake gagging noise and you flipped him off while still kissing your husband. “Okay okay, I think I got the picture. You can stop kissing now.”

“Now before we move onto our next performance by Y/N Styles, I’m here with her incredible husband, Harry Styles!” Trevor said and the audience clapped. “I mean what can you say about this man that hasn’t been said, huh? Incredible album.. Mind blowing tour. What is it? 15 nights at MSG AND the Forum? Women throw their panties at this man,” He pretended to throw something, “And he puts them on and he looks better in them than they do.”

You were watching backstage and could tell Harry was very uncomfortable but what Trevor said next really made your blood boil.

“Easily the worlds sexiest man! Are you- There’s no competition! Sex. Symbol. Of the globe. Especially now that they’ve killed off the green M&M, no competition. R.I.P. This is the room, people. We’ve got LA’s very own Y/N Styles joining us now performing her hit song, Lavender Haze!” He finished and you smiled as everyone turned their attention to you. You had on a new dress since your other one was definitely too big to preform in.

The music started to play and you looked over to where Harry was sitting and gave him a small wave. The intro of the song started and you took a deep breath then began talking. “Grammys! How are we tonight??” You asked and the crowd cheered.

“Staring at the ceiling with you. Oh, you don’t ever say too much.”

“And you don’t really read into my melancholia.” You moved off the main stage just like you had rehearsed and moved over to the center stage because that��s where Harrys table was by and obviously you wrote this song about him. “I’ve been under scrutiny.. You handle it beautifully. All this shit is new to me.”

Those were important lines to you because after being not being in the public eye for as long as Harry, they obviously tried to cancel you for everything little thing but Harry didn’t care, that wasn’t the Y/N he knew and loved.

"All they keep asking me is if I'm gonna be your bride." You held up your ringed finger. "The only kinda girl they see is a one-night or a wife."

"I find it dizzying, they're bringing up my history. But you weren't even listening," The lights went purple and there was fog surrounding the stage. "I feel the lavender haze creeping up on me."

"Surreal, I'm damned if I do give a damn what people say." You looked around the room and saw everyone standing up dancing. "No deal, the 1950s shit they want from me." You loved that line. Everyone always expected you to stay home, give Harry babies, and make him a nice warm dinner to come home to every night. But that wasn't what you wanted, you wanted your own career. Obviously you wanted kids as well but that was for the further in the future and Harry absolutely understood where you were coming from.

"Talk your talk and go viral, I just need this love spiral." Harry smiled brightly and mouthed 'I love you' to you which made you blush like a teenage girl. "Get it off your chest.. Get it off my desk,"

"Talk your talk and go viral, I just need this love spiral. Get it off your chest," You spoke that line instead of singing it. "Get it off my desk!" You moved back to the main stage and everyone cheered loud. "Surreal, I'm damned if I do give a damn what people say. No deal, the 1950s shit they want from me."

"I just wanna stay in that lavender haze."

"Get if off your chest... Get it off my desk."

"That lavender haze, I just wanna stay." You moved back to where you originally started off at on the stage.

"I just wanna stay in that lavender haze." You bowed as you caught your breath then left the stage.

"That was so amazing, Y/N!!" You heard someone shout as you walked back to your dressing room.

"Thank you so much, I really appreciate it!" You called back and checked your phone to see all of your family members had texted you.

Mom

"Good job, honey!! You did amazing!"

Dad

"Can't believe my baby is all grown up, we love you Y/N"

Y/S/N

Attachment 1 video

"Good job, sissy. We were all cheering you on!"

Haz <3

"You did absolutely amazing, my love. I'll be in your dressing room in just a few xx"

He wasn't lying when he said that because a couple of minutes later, you heard a knock at the door. "Hey, do you mind getting that? I'm trying to get changed." You called out to your manager from the bathroom.

"And the Grammy for best pop vocal album goes to... Harry Styles, Harry's House!" JLO announced and Harry his his face behind his hands.

“Harry you did it!!” You stood up with him and hugged him tightly.

“Holy shit, Y/N.” He hugged you back and pulled away after a moment to hug everyone else.

Harry took the Grammy in his hands and took a deep breath. “Wow.. Thank you so much, this album from start to finish has been the greatest experience of my life, from writing it with my best friends and my wife, to playing it for you, it’s the greatest joy. I’d like to thank Rob, Jeffery, Tom, Tyler, Tommy, Tom, and Y/N. Thank you to everyone who inspired this album, thank you to all my family and friends. I wouldn’t be here without you, thank you.”

You cheered with Lizzo as loud as you both could and smiled when Harry made his way back down to you. “There’s my Grammy winning husband!!” You pressed a big sloppy kiss right over his dimple and wrapped his arms around his neck. “How’s it feel to know you have two whole Grammys now?”

“ ‘S amazing, sweetheart. I believe your category is coming up next.” He winked at you and your face turned red.

“Oh gosh please don’t remind me. I’m so nervous.” Your eyes grew wider as you both sat down.

“Here are the list of nominees for song of the year,

As It Was, Harry Styles.

Break My Soul, Beyoncé.

Just Like That, Bonnie Raitt.

About Damn Time, Lizzo.

Lavender Haze, Y/N Styles.”

“And the Grammy for song of the year goes to,” Jill opened the envelope and smiled. “Y/N Styles, Lavender Haze!!”

You stared at your champagne glass and you felt Harry gently shake you to get you to stand up. You looked up at him and let out a shaky laugh. “Oh my god.. Is this actually happening?” You asked him and he pulled you in for a hug.

“It’s actually happening, darling.” He pulled away. “Now go up there and get your award!”

You did as you were told and looked back at the screen to make sure it was actually your face up there. “Wow.. I didn’t have anything prepared because honestly I didn’t think I’d win. I mean I was up against Beyoncé and Lizzo, why on Earth would I win this?” You looked at the award in your very shaky hands. “Holy shit. Thank you so much to everyone who helped me with this song. Thank you to Harry for being my inspiration for this entire album, really. I wouldn’t be here without you, H. Thank you, thank you, thank you.” You walked off the stage and went back to your table.

Trevor started talking again through the microphone and you stared at your hands in shock. “Oh my god, Harry. I just won a fucking Grammy.” You said, looking up at him with tears in your eyes.

Harry pulled your chair closer to him and placed a kiss to your temple as you leaned into him. "Mum wants a picture of both of us with our awards, are you up for one right now?" He asked, pulling his phone out of his pocket.

You nodded and watched as he handed his phone to Lizzo then helped you stand up.

"Okay smile!" Lizzo said and you both held your Grammys up to the camera with a huge smile. "Perfect, I took like a thousand."

It was the last category of the night, Album Of The Year, and man were you nervous. It was such a tough category against many talented artists but you kept reassuring Harry that he was going to win. "When you win, we're gonna go celebrate like there's no tomorrow." You ran your fingers through his hair at the back of his neck.

"Okay everyone, we're on in 5 seconds!" You heard someone say through the speakers and you put your phone in your handbag.

Trevor stood on the stage and smiled brightly. "To wrap the evening up, we have DJ Khaled and John Legend performing for us tonight but before that, we have one final category, Album Of The Year! Lets take a look at the nominees."

"Harry's House, Harry Styles.

Voyage, ABBA.

30, Adele.

Un Verano Sin Ti, Bad Bunny.

RENAISSANCE, Beyoncé.

Good Morning Gorgeous (Deluxe), Mary J. Blige.

In These Silent Days, Brandi Carlile.

Music of the Spheres, Coldplay.

Mr. Morale & The Big Steppers, Kendrick Lamar.

Special, Lizzo."

"And the Grammy goes to..." He smiled and opened the envelope. "Harry Styles!"

Everyone started cheering and you practically jumped out of your seat and hugged Jeff as tight as you could before pulling away after a moment and looking at Harry who had his face in his hands. "H! You did it, H!" You helped him stand up and then pressed a kiss to his lips.

He returned the kiss and then after hugging everyone, he made his way top onto the stage with you, Kid Harpoon, and Tyler. He took the award in his hands and smiled. "Shit! I mean-shit! Man.. Um, I’ve been so, so inspired by every artist in this category with me. At a lot of different times in my life I listen to everyone in this category when I’m alone, and I think on nights like tonight, its obviously so important for us to remember that there is no such this as best in music. Um-I don’t think any of us sit in the studio thinking, making decisions based on what is gonna get us one of these. This is really, really kind. I’m so, so grateful. I’m gonna pass it over to my collaborators who are- I’m just so uh, this doesn’t happen to people like me very often and this is so, so nice. Thank you very, very much." He handed the Grammy to Tyler and pulled you into a tight hug.

“I love you so much.” He wiped his tears on your dress and pulled back to admire your face.

"I love you so much more."

After you went home, showered, and got changed into comfier clothes, you and Harry headed over to Jeff’s house to hang out. Now you both were sitting on the couch with you in between Harrys legs with a wine glass in your hand.

“Okay but can we just talk about Y/N’s killer performance?” Jeff asked which made everyone look over to you.

“Oh gosh, my earpiece wasn't working at first and then they turned the lights purple and turned on the fog machine too soon and it was so embarrassing. They were supposed to wait until after I sang ‘I feel the lavender haze creeping up on me.’” You sighed and took a sip of your wine.

“Well you did amazing either way, my love. And you won your first ever Grammy!” He rested his hands on your stomach underneath your Forest Green Pleasing sweatshirt and pressed a kiss to the top of your head.

You put your wine glass on the coffee table and flipped over so your chest was pressed against Harrys and you closed your eyes.

Harry noticed this and ran his fingers through your hair. “You tired, peach?” He asked and you hummed in return. “Wanna go home?”

You nuzzled your face into the crook of his neck and pressed a soft kiss there. “No no no, you’re having fun with your friends. Don’t let me ruin that.”

He nodded his head slowly. “Okay, well just let me know when you’re ready and we can go.”

You woke back up a couple hours later to all the lights off and the TV playing a movie. “Harry?” You looked up at him and placed a kiss to his cheek.

"Morning, sleepy head." He whispered and pressed a soft kiss to your lips.

You hummed against his lips and smiled. "Where are Glenne and Jeff?"

"They went to bed, I was waiting for you to wake up but they said we can stay in their guest room tonight if we don't feel like going home, it's up to you, lovie."

"I'm fine with anything as long as I'm with you." You let out a yawn then nuzzled your face back into the crook of his neck.

Harry turned off the TV and slowly sat up which made you groan. "Before you go back to sleep, let's go get in bed and we can cuddle all you want."

Once you got up to the guest bedroom, you took off your sweatshirt and sweatpants so you were left in only your shirt then climbed into bed and snuggled up to Harry's now bare chest.

"Darling?" You heard Harry say after a few moments.

You looked up at him. "Yeah?"

"Thank you for everything you do for me, I wouldn't be here without here." He ran his fingers up and down your back.

"You don't need to thank me, H. I love you," You grabbed his left hand and kissed his knuckles. "We're in this together, remember? ‘Till death do us part’ then even after that you’re still stuck with me. It’s just us, baby, it’s you and I against the world. We don’t need anyone else.”

“Let’s have a baby.” He blurted out and your eyes widened. “Shit- Uh, I mean, do you wanna have a baby? I’ll be on tour only until July and then we can stay in England and out of the public eye contact and-”

“Harry,” You interrupted him and pressed a kiss to his lips. “Of course I wanna have a baby, do you think we’re ready?”

He nodded his head. “I do, we’ve never been happier and I think it’s the perfect time.”

“Then let’s have a baby, H. I’ll stop taking birth control tomorrow and then we can start trying.” You yawned. “But let’s go to sleep now, yeah? We can talk about it more in the morning?”

“I love you so much.” He pulled you closer to him and kissed all over your face and down your neck.

You giggled and laid your head against his chest to listen to his heartbeat to fall asleep. “I love you too.”

hi hi! here she is in all her glory! lmk if you want a pt 2. for when they start trying to have a baby, i think i have a couple ideas on how i wanna execute it! as always make sure you reblog to help my page grow, if you just like then that won’t do anything for me! have a good day/night i love you all,

xoxo bella 🤍

#harry styles #harry styles one shot #husband!harry #soft!harry #harry styles grammys #harry styles x you #harry styles fluff #harry styles writing #harry styles stuff #harry fic #harry x reader #harrys house

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