#when it comes to picking up muses; i always pick characters that i personally like

[cutieeva]

The Beautiful Lie

Female reader

Warnings : Manipulation. Love bombing. Self harm. Sexual Assault.

⌜ The art and the love interest (male character) belongs to the talented artist @meo-eiru and the story is inspiringly written and dedicated to @meo-eiru and the readers ! Hope you enjoy the plot that belongs to me but also helped by @meo-eiru a lot ⌟

𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒

(Y/N) rarely has time to offer to love, dating and such things because first : her taste in men are bad and second: she is a extremely busy person to balance her work life and personal life seperated until the most beautiful man she ever saw came surprising her with love. Or is it ?

"(Y/N), could you go to the Cutieeva mall to check out the new product's sales ?" Her female senior asked sitting from her desk.

"Of course, mam. I will be in a minute". (Y/N) agreed, saving all of her working documents before taking her handbag and left with car keys. Aurora Bloom, the brand of the cosmetic company she works, it is for now one of the top three companies to be trending in global and the best in Europe. While She works in HQ department of the company at a young age she didn't expect and living her life at ease at the rented apartment she lives quite close both to the company and her parents house who always here and there tell her to come home and when she does, it's a feast to eat of her home's comfy food and hearing thousand fictional stories from her writer father, well he wasn't a writer at first before he was a regular working manager at a company but he quit after (Y/N) outdone herself to such pristine department letting him decide to do what he likes until his last breath could be taken applying he wants no regrets to bear.

And he surprised the family by being quite a good writer himself, finding his own group of fandom invested in his writing and always support him while her mother is happy as she was being a housewife like always along being madly in love with her father who reciprocate the feelings to this day which (Y/N) finds utterly endearing yet she has no time to dwell about her love life when she has too much on her plate with her newfound career she wants to grow, as a independent woman and a person who lives her life to the fullest if overlook her empty love life.

"Yes mam, indeed people are enjoying the new shade of lipstick saying it's not only non-sticky but also long lasting highlighting their skin tones". The department store female manger explained pointing to the several women trying their new product 'the cherry blossom lipstick' either on their lips or on their palm.

(Y/N) nod, curling into a pleasant smile when her eyes caught a beautiful woman's back, wore pink shirt and tight skinny black pants with her musing long hair flowing with the breeze. "Must be pretty". She thought when she witness from her pocket a small object— foundation she recognized fell on the ground yet the woman walked away.

"She didn't noticed". On instinct almost she walked to the floor picking up the tiny box and call out. "Miss, your foundation..." She tailed off as she turn into the light, and captivated (Y/N) by the vision before her. His hair was a mesmerizing pink musing hue, with subtle waves that cascaded down his back like a rosy waterfall. The straight strands framed his face, accentuating his chiseled features, while his bangs fell effortlessly across his forehead, adding a touch of whimsical charm.

His eyes, a deep, burnished logoon color, like the warmth of a sunset on a tropical isle, sparkled with amusement as he caught her gaze. They seemed to dance with an inner light, drawing her in with an irresistible pull.

His lips, a vibrant red, curled into a gentle smile, revealing a hint of mischief, and (Y/N) felt her heart skip a beat. But it was the glint of gold at his ears that added the final touch to his captivating appearance - delicate, filigree earrings that seemed to shimmer in harmony with his eyes.

(Y/N) felt like she was drowning in the depths of his gaze, and before she knew it, the words tumbled out of her mouth in a whispered gasp "You're beautiful."

The man's smile widened, and a low, husky laugh rumbled from his throat, sending shivers down (Y/N)'s spine. "Thank you," he said, his voice dripping with warmth, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "You are a funny one complimenting me beautiful after calling me a lady".

As he laughed, the golden earrings caught the light, adding a touch of whimsy to his already captivating presence. (Y/N) felt her cheeks flush, but she couldn't tear her gaze away from his face, her heart still racing from the impact of his beauty also sinking the fact she mistaken a man being a woman.

"I am sorry. It wasn't my intention". Honestly said, she look down, dare peeking though her lashes to flinch finding him staring at her the entire time.

"I can see that, the way it's written over your face". He chuckle moving his finger in air to the circle to her face making her palm touch her own heated cherry face.

"Ah !" She laughed nervously, unconsciously fisting on the foundation box.

"So, can I have it back ?" His hand reached out, palm up, with shiny white nails gleaming in the light, as if beckoning the object back from (Y/N)'s grasp. His fingers, slender and elegant, curled slightly, inviting her to return the coveted item. The nails, smooth and rounded, seemed to shine like tiny beacons, drawing (Y/N)'s gaze to his outstretched hand. With a gentle, yet persuasive gesture, he coaxed the foundation back into his possession, his shiny white nails glinting with quiet confidence.

"Huh ?" (Y/N)'s eyes widened, then blinked slowly, as if awakening from a spell, realizing the man had taken the foundation with effortless ease, leaving her feeling bewitched while his eyes crinkled, lips curling into a warm smile as he chuckled, clearly delighted by the woman's adorable, bewildered expression. His low, husky laugh filled the air, his gaze sparkling with amusement.

"What a adorable lady she is". His eyes roamed her body, lingering on every curve, exploring each detail, as if discovering hidden treasures. "You aren't from the department store right ?" (Y/N) blink twice.

"No".

"Oh, then you came to shop ?" He narrowed his eyes noticing her carrying a huge white handbag.

"No". She answered in short.

"Then why ?" He asked tilted his head with the notion his golden earrings swing gently.

"I am from the HQ department of the brand you are holding". Finally she smiled confidently pointing at the foundation's box printed Aurora Bloom.

"Oh !" He delightfully smile, toying with the object. "Pleasant to meet you then. He added.

"Pleasant to you t—" a melody emitted from her wrist watch widening her (E/C) eyes. "Oh god ! I need to hurry ! I am sorry but I need to go". She apologized having fun to converse with the stranger.

"No worries—" His eyes spot the missing ring finger. "—Miss ?" He tailed off insinuating her unknown name.

"(L/N) (Y/N), sir". She replied.

"Mine is Elias". (Y/N) choose not to comment at his lack of surname and nod before walking hastily. How could she forget this time's event manager is herself hosted on Tuesday, the very next day. Cursing her fate she ran.

Perfect. (Y/N) release a sigh overwhelmed by the fast yet perfect preparations she had to done within such short amount of time thankfully today would be the flawless day to showcase their skin products to their VIP guests who might be arriving any minute. The models have already came but "Has the makeup artist come yet ?" She questioned worried for the delayed time of the famous make up artist they somehow succeed in booking his seat as social media following was staggering, with millions hanging on his every post and tutorial. Celebrities clamored for his attention, and fashion icons praised his work. Sold-out masterclasses and coveted collaborations solidified his status as the most sought-after makeup artist in the industry. His name was synonymous with glamour and expertise, and his influence was simply unparalleled.

"It's alright ! The artist must be running late right ?" Soon her worries were proven right because soon after their automatic glass door opened revealing a man wore sleek black glasses, adding a touch of sophistication to his chiseled features. His French brown coat, crafted from seemly fine leather, draped elegantly across his broad shoulders, exuding luxury.

"The artist came, mam !" Her female junior announced however (Y/N) knitted her brows finding the man somehow familiar, from his blush long hair, tall statue only be still surprised finding the man remove his glasses to indeed be that beautiful man from yesterday who smile at her noting he remembered her.

"Wow ! The world indeed works in a mysterious ways". She grin shaking her head. "Welcome to the our event sir, please hurry the show begins within minutes". Adapting her professional mannerism she shaked his hand, guiding him to their backstage to appear on the front stage.

"We met once again, Miss (L/N)" His lagoon eyes on her, standing behind the dark curtain to go.

"Of course, Sir Elias". She professionally smiled intriguing the man a little. "Oh ! Your turn". She stretch out her hand to the stage guide him who nod.

Wonderfully the event unfolded with seamless precision, a testament to the makeup artist's mastery. With each stroke of his brush, he transformed the models into living canvases, showcasing their company's product unparalleled quality. The VIP guests watched in awe, their faces aglow with delight, as the artist's vision came to life. As the final model face the guest revamped into a living goddess, the room erupted into applause, a joyful crescendo that wrapped the evening in a warm, golden glow. The event concluded with effortless elegance, leaving a lasting impression on all who attended including the staff and (Y/N) herself.

"He was the right choice". She giggle as her co-workers swarmed around her, beaming with pride and admiration. "Congratulations, you absolutely crushed it!" they exclaimed, patting her on the back and shaking her hand. "Your attention to detail and tireless efforts made this event truly unforgettable!"

Meanwhile, the VIP guests approached her, their faces still aglow with delight. "Thank you for an incredible experience," they said, their voices filled with genuine gratitude. "Your preparation was seamless, and every aspect of the event was meticulously executed. You truly are a master of your craft!" As the guests departed, (Y/N) waved goodbye, basking in the warmth of their praises. Her colleagues continued to congratulate her, their kind words and smiles a testament to her hard work and dedication. With a sense of pride and accomplishment, (Y/N) smiled, knowing she had truly outdone herself once again.

"You know your craft". She flinch almost screaming meeting his eyes.

"Hello, Mr. Elias. Partially it is your skills too that the reason why it was such a successful event". He smiled shrugging his shoulder.

"Okay, please have a safe drive and reach home". She wave her hand and farewell him before he parted his lips to say, remained rooted at his place, watching her figure disappearing.

"She is always hurry to leave". He mutter walking to his car.

"Hmm...this time their new lipstick looks better". (Y/N) discreetly stare at the neighboring make up store despite having much customers on her stores, she still find the new appeal of their products threatening to her company so she walked inside nodding to the welcoming female clerks.

Picking out the a box, she about to apply on her palm when a voice intrupted.

"Don't do it that way". Her eyes wide meeting his lagoon ones, smiling alike to crescent moons she compare. "Apply it in your lips directly and it will definitely have a different impact". He encouraged the doubtful woman who glided the crimson bullet across her lips, leaving a bold, velvety trail in its wake.

"Hmmm not suiting your face. Lighter". He picked out a peach shade handing her who again gliding the peach lipstick across her lips in soft, smooth strokes, as he whispered, "Let it caress your skin, like a summer breeze." As his warm breath danced across her ear, she flinched, her hand trembling with the lipstick. She turned, her gaze darting to his, their faces too close, the air thick with tension. Her eyes widened, a flicker of discomfort crossing her face, as she leaned back, her shoulders tensing. The lipstick hovered, forgotten, as she struggled to create space between them, her breath catching in her throat. His gaze held hers, intense, unyielding, making her skin prickle with unease and heart racing.

"This suits you. I will take one". Hearing his comment she cleared her throat, slowly keeping the lipstick to where it was when from the tail of her eyes she saw him choose an uneven box of peach shade. Quickly she picked the perfect box stretching to him who raised his eyebrows in question.

"I already have one". He jiggle the box but frown staring at her shaking head.

"Take this, it has perfect box unlike the uneven one". She pointed out to his surprise as a thrilled chuckle left his lips.

"Thank you". Replacing the case.

"No problem". She wave her hand as if physically waving his gratitude.

"Wanna grab drinks ?" Elias suggested out of nowhere tilting his head.

"Okay". Checking her wrist watch she still has few minutes to spare. Also she did wanted a drink and they together went to the drink store nearby ordering one white chocolate matcha for her and one caramel frappuccino for him.

Waiting for the drink they sat near a white seat opposite of each other, talking about trivial things about one another where she learnt he is a regular customer of her brand along their frequent makeup artist that's why she was able to book him easily. Soon the waitress called for their drinks and they talked, sipping their drinks and walking.

"Okay I need to leave". She decided glancing at her wrist watch missing his disappointed gaze.

"Okay. It was nice talking to you". He told.

"Me too". Happily she answered, finding herself enjoying their conversation. "I will take my leave". With a wave she left once again.

However what she didn't expected was their daily meeting at the mall department store as she stepped into the store, clipboard in hand, she was focused on her task: ensuring the department was running smoothly. But then, she saw him—a familiar face among the shelves. Their daily meetings had become a pleasant ritual, a brief respite from her HQ duties. He'd ask about her day, and she'd share stories about the office, or he'd gossip about his latest makeup news. She found herself looking forward to these encounters, feeling a sense of comfort and camaraderie with this customer. He was easy to talk to, and their conversations flowed effortlessly. As she checked the inventory, he'd chat with her, making the task more enjoyable. Their bond grew with each passing day, an unexpected connection between them she wasn't anticipating because once a mundane checking became the hightlight of her day with that weeks pass in blink of an eye. Until one day they sat in their usual white table in front of the drink shop inside the mall.

As he asked the question "Do you like me?" she felt a sudden jolt of surprise, her mind racing with a mix of emotions. Her eyes widened, and actions paused before laughter awkwardly bursting back and forth like a defensive shield.

"Yes, as a good friend!" she exclaimed, trying to brush off the tension, her tone light and playful. But in her haste to respond, she missed the subtle strain in his smile, the flicker of vulnerability in his eyes but a doubt linger on her mind for him to ask such a question. Why ? Never in her mind did she view the man romantic, beautiful yes but that's a admiration unlike love, she is certain of her feelings are not alike to love.

"I like you too." His voice was calm, sincere, To her, his words were a friendly echo, a mirrored response, a confirmation of their camaraderie. She nodded, feeling a sense of relief wash over her, thinking the tension had dissipated, that they were back on familiar ground. (Y/N) simply smiled back, comfortable in her assumption, oblivious to the moment hung, suspended, a delicate balance of feelings, but she didn't notice, already moving on, the exchange filed away as a pleasant, friendly conversation and took her drinks however she soon has to depart this time with a hint of awkwardness.

"It's alright. Nothing is wrong". And correct to her thought the next day was normal as their conversation flowed easily, like a gentle stream. (Y/N) chatted with him, laughing and joking, feeling a sense of comfort and familiarity. His question from the day before seemed like a distant memory, a minor blip in their friendly interactions. She didn't dwell on it, assuming it was just a momentary lapse, a strange anomaly in their otherwise effortless exchanges. As they talked, she felt her guard drop, her smile genuine, her heart light. Everything seemed alright again, the tension forgotten, their friendship back on track.

"Okay, see you again !" (Y/N) told glancing at her wrist watch because today she has an important delivery to approval on the said store.

"Yup ! See you again". He bid too when a message notification made her pause, worry etching her face. Her dad's request to bring the anniversary cake had just been detailed by the store's cancellation due to an emergency. Panic set in, her mind racing with consequences, her eyes darting around for a solution. Stress and concern replaced her relaxed demeanor, her fingers flying across the screen to respond to her dad's message. Elias noticing the drastic change asked and she replied elaborating her situation of how she must reach to approvel the delivery application but on the otherhand has to get the custom cake from the cake shop if not then the cake would not be handover.

"How about I went to get the cake instead of you and delivery to your parent's house. Didn't you said it is near ?" He presented the idea, smiling causing (Y/N) to halted her racing thoughts and a breath of air pass her lungs.

"Of course ! Of course !". She laughed heartily handing him the receipts and addresses before running to the delivery store to hastily complete her task and return home as soon as possible.

"Today's work was difficult". Her finger pads rub her forehead re-thinking her workload, getting out of the car and towards her parent's house caught the setting sun's beautiful view. Ringing the doorbell she waited thoughts going back to Elias. "How sweet of a person he is". A smile naturally curl to her lips and wider when the door opened by her mother.

"Happy anniversary mama !" (Y/N) embrace tightly, soaking on her familiar comfort while she returned the affections.

"Thank you dearest. Come inside, it must be hot outside". Her mother close the door behind as she let herself in, walking to the living room finding glimpse of her father sitting on the side chair and ran to embrace him from behind.

"Happy anniversary papa". She sing song, playfully kiss his hair.

"Thank you princess". His aged voice laughed, caress her hands to which she close her eyes melting into his raw love. "Also this young man is such an gentleman. Your taste in men is indeed great like your mother". She frown opening her eyes.

"What are you talking—" Her (E/C) wide, taken a back by Elias appearance sitting across her father, on the sofa and he raised his hands in mock surprise, his eyebrows arched in a playful gesture.

"Why are you—" Her words cut by her mother gentle ones.

"My heartless girl ! You left this man to fend for himself by telling him to get the cake and now you ask why is he here ? Of course I told him to grab one or two bite". The young woman nod, feeling guilty and appreciate at her mother's gesture.

"Ah— about that I am extremely sorry. It was my job to do". Elias shook his head nonchalant.

"Yet without my idea you wouldn't agree so yea, not your fault too". She glee truly pleased to find such a good friend she couldn't ask more and the anniversary celebration was a resounding success, filled with love, laughter, and warmth. As the evening unfolded, (Y/N)'s parents shared a tender moment, her father leaning in to kiss her mother softly on the lips. (Y/N) couldn't help but mockingly scrunch up her face in distaste, eliciting a hearty laugh from Elias sitting beside her. The atmosphere was light and joyful, with the sweet scent of cake wafting through the air. As they gathered around the dessert table, (Y/N)'s parents fed each other cake, their eyes locked in a loving gaze. The beautiful man joined in, playfully feeding (Y/N) a bite, his fingers brushing against hers. The room was filled with the sound of clinking forks and happy chatter, as they all savored the sweetness of the moment, and the love that surrounded them. Time stood still and they basked in the warmth of their little family's happiness, creating memories that would last a lifetime.

"Thank you very much. You helped me a lot". She showed her gratitude standing at the doorstep.

Elias shake his head "I enjoyed it so no need". Silence fill between them letting (Y/N) once again notice the lunar luminescence cascaded over the beautiful man's countenance, bathing his sculpted features in an soft, silvery radiance, as if the moon itself had bestowed a gentle caress upon his serene and peaceful face.

"Bye and good night".

"Same to you". He returned, turning his back to her and drove his car away.

From that day forward, the bond between (Y/N) and Elias blossomed into a beautiful, unbreakable connection. (Y/N) found herself opening up to Elias in ways she never thought possible, sharing with him her deepest thoughts, feelings, and desires. She began to show him pictures of her friends, promising to introduce them soon, and shared stories about her life, her passions, and her dreams. As their trust grew, they exchanged contacts, marveling at how they had gone so long without sharing such a simple yet intimate detail. Their conversations flowed effortlessly, filling their break times with laughter and delight. Elias became (Y/N)'s confidant, her partner in crime, and her guiding light. Their friendship was a symphony of joy, a harmonious blend of trust, understanding, and mutual respect. (Y/N) cherished this new connection, feeling seen, heard, and understood in ways she never thought possible. Elias had become her rock, her safe haven, and her forever friend.

"By the way, I need your help with something". This alert her entire attention to him, sipping her drink from the staw as they both stood in front of the usual drink shop at the mall.

"Yes, anything. What is it about ?" (Y/N) was ready to help him when it's his need of time.

"I need your expertise in sorting through my grandparent's old photo albums. I want to create a memory book for my family, but I'm overwhelmed". Elias avert his eyes, smiling rigidly causing her heart melt at such an thoughtful gesture.

"Aww ! That sweet of course. I am happy to help". But his expression remained uncomfortable.

"But, you need to come to my house for that". He whispered dare to stare into her (E/C) eyes.

She suck her breath knowing she never once visited his home and she gulped nevertheless she grin again because her schedule is free mostly and she wants to help "It's alright ! I am happy to go but of course if you are comfortable". She tilted her head.

"Oh !— of course I would be or why would I ask you for help".

"Likewise but why did you ask me ?" If she recalls correctly he showed her many of his influencer, normal friends.

"Because you are the only friend who is good at managing things. You know like a good event manager who knows how to put things together ?" It earned a melodious laugh from (Y/N).

"I feel appreciated".

"As you should". She giggle more along him for his compliment. Soon she found herself in his car as he drove smoothly through the city, their eyes meeting briefly in the rearview mirror. Arriving at the penthouse he lives. The towering marvel of modern architecture that seemed to touch the stars. He expertly maneuvered the car into the private parking garage, and they stepped out into the opulent lobby, surrounded by polished marble and gleaming steel. A swift elevator ride later, they entered the penthouse itself, a breathtaking expanse of floor-to-ceiling windows, chic décor, and stunning city views. Her eyes widened in wonder, feeling as though she'd entered a different world more important his personal safe of walls.

"Sit on the sofa". He pointed going to the open modern kitchen. (Y/N) felt serenity wash over her when her feet stepped onto the shiny white tiles, their cool surface calming her senses. Sinking into the plush black sofa, she felt enveloped in comfort, her eyes darting around the luxurious space in wonder. With each glance, her awe grew, her heart swelling with gratitude for this stunning sanctuary.

"Here, a juice for you and you see those dusty stacks of heavy things. I found them inside". The cold glass slid within her grip but she smiled nervously because unfortunately blinded by the luxury she often seen on the TV she failed to detect the bluntly dusty things.

"Yes". She lied now laiding her eyes.

"They are I think contains photos of my grandparents but I need help to create an entire new album". Elias shrug helplessly.

"Alright ! Let's do this then". (Y/N) full of enthusiasm knelt down, her hands reaching for the dusty photo albums that lay open on the sleek glass table, her fingers touched the worn covers, a cloud of dust swirled up, carrying with it memories of laughter and love. But with the memories came a fit of coughing, as the dust tickled her throat and lungs.

Elias being swift and attentive, appeared beside her, his movements fluid as he knelt down. He handed her a glass of crystal clear water, his eyes filled with concern. "Here, drink this," he whispered, his voice soft and soothing. She sipped the water, cough subsiding only then to be aware of the proximity of their bodies, kneeling together on the floor. Their faces were inches apart, their shoulders touching, and their legs aligned. The closeness sent a shiver down her spine. His lagoon gaze drifted from her eyes to her lips, still moist from the water. His hand, still cradling the glass, began to move, his fingers brushing against her face.

With gentle care, Elias thumb rubbed against her lips, wiping away the droplets of water. she felt a sudden jolt of discomfort. His touch, though gentle, sent a wave of unease through her body. She tried to pull back, but his long slender hand lingered, his fingers tracing the curve of her mouth.

"(Y/N), I love you. Actually I was in love with you for a long time. Please, please accept me". Desperation whisper though his pink lips bringing their face closely and gripping her chin with his thump settle on the curve of her mouth.

"But you said you like—" Her words intruded.

"Never as a friend did I said". Elias connect their forehead. "It was you who receive it that way". (Y/N)'s eyes darted away, her gaze falling on the dusty floorboards as she struggled to process the sensation. Her heart raced, but not with excitement— rather with anxiety.

Trapped.

Betrayed.

Bothered.

She is feeling her personal space invaded by the intimate touch. The air thick with tension, the silence between them oppressive. (Y/N) longed to break free, to shatter the uncomfortable stillness that had settled over them. But her voice caught in her throat, leaving her unable to speak, unable to move, as Elias' hand remained, a gentle yet unyielding presence on her skin.

Why ? How ? When ? So many unanswered crawl inside her limited knowledge. Everything was going well, perfect yet why did it has to crash so harshly.

"Please, (Y/N) be mine. I can offer you anything you want. Riches, fame, connection, promotion. Say a word and it inside your palm". Slowly he draw their distance and (Y/N) felt utter destroyed by the wave of soft lips press against her. The kiss was harsh, demanding, and devoid of love. Her hands desperate to push him away, however his slender grip her fast, his arms wrapping around her like a vice or more like an beautiful snake wrap around his beloved prey.

Raged filled her (E/C) eyes, loathing the string of fate leading her in such advance, loathing the feel of his lips on hers, the way his tongue probed her mouth without consent. loathing the way he held her, like she was a prisoner, not a willing participant she wanted to grace her loved man her first kiss.

Finally air became a need did the beautiful man separate their interviwned lips, heat bust his pale cheeks, adoring heart pupils onto his eyes, chest heaving with newfound excitement snarling the chance she shove him, spatting words of vemon and eyes blazing with anger. "You disgust me". With that she ran and he let her.

Tears streaming down her cheeks, she rushed to a taxi, traveling to her home of trust, sobbing by the betrayal she was returned by the conditional trust she gave after reaching home towards her bathroom was a burl rather her sole focus is escaping the lingering sensation of Elias lips on hers.

Rushed to the sink, gagging at the memory of the unwelcomed kiss. She turned on the faucet, cupping her hands under the running water to splash it onto her lips. Fingers rubbed her mouth harshly to scrub away the disgust moment yet the sensation lingered, haunting her. She gagged again, her stomach churning with revulsion. (Y/N) grasped the edge of the sink, her knuckles white with tension, as she struggled to compose herself eventually her legs gave out, and she collapsed to the white floor, her body trembling with anger and disgust. She sat there, her back against the cabinet, her eyes fixed on the floor as tears of frustration and violation streamed down her face.

The bathroom, once a sanctuary, now felt like a refuge from the trauma of the forced kiss. (Y/N) sat there, surrounded by the cold, sterile tiles, trying to catch her breath, in effort to erase the memory of Elias. The man she thought was her cherished partner, a delightful friend. Where ? Where did it all went wrong ? Where was the wrong step or word she utter to lead such devastating ending or was his whole persona was a facade. A spider wed to trap a butterfly like her and she was a naive little thing to walk right on it.

As the night's veil lifted, the sun rose, casting its warm rays upon the world. The golden light crept over the horizon, banishing the shadows and illuminating the landscape. The rays peeked through the curtains, gently coaxing (Y/N) out of her dark reverie.

Her eyes sunken and dark from the sleepless night, slowly opened alike two heavy doors creaking on their hinges. The golden light danced across her face, highlighting the purple circles that had formed under her eyes. The horror of the previous night's experience still lingered, etched on her face like a shadow.

(Y/N) blinked, her gaze unfocused, as the light pierced through her brain, reminding her of the traumatic events that had unfolded. She winced, mind recoiling from the memory. The usual ray of sun, a symbol of hope and renewal, now seemed like a harsh reminder of the darkness she had endured. She sat up, her body droop heavy, weighed down by the exhaustion and emotional turmoil. The golden light continued to pour in, illuminating the room, however (Y/N) felt not a hint of warmth, not of comfort. Only a sense of dread, a fear of what the new day might bring.

Disturbed by her numb thoughts she called her senior announcing her day off slipping the lie of being sick before declining and about to drift into sleep.

DING ! Her doorbell ring. She ignored. Again. Again. Again. Again and again following with a "(Y/N) ! This is me, your mother and father". Irritated she drag her feet to the front door, opening to reveal her aged parents.

"(Y/N)— what happen sweetie ?" Worry weight her words, touching her daughter's check when she flinch unconsciously frightening both her parents and herself.

"Come inside". Heavy her voice sounded, closing the door and sitting on the chair while they together on the sofa.

The air was heavy, thick with tension. Silence was oppressive, suffocating. The atmosphere was dense, like a knife could cut through it. Slicing through the strained quiet like a razor-sharp blade through velvet. Every breath felt like a struggle, every movement a battle against the crushing gravity of the moment.

"Darling, did you fought with your boyfriend ?" Bravely her mother finally questioned raising her eyebrows.

"Boyfriend ? Fight ?" Her voice trembled.

"Or". The old woman grasp. "Did you break up". Her husband rest his palm on her shoulder while (Y/N) confuse more by their words.

"Boyfriend ? Break up ? What are you talking about ? I do not have a boyfriend to begin with so how can I fight or break up with him ?" Frustration she shake her head as if physically shoving their creative imagination.

"Honey, it's alright. You don't have to hide from us. We understand you wanted to keep it a secret but he told us and we accept him as your boyfriend". Her mother calmly smiled providing a sense of comfort yet all she felt was suffocation and more confusion.

"Okay, at first I was sceptical. He looked flashy, an playboy however he is actually a child at heart, a very good one and is always eager to help". This time her father spoke lacing with a fondness she didn't expect him to talk about someone.

"What is wrong with you ! I never had a boyfriend in my life". She scream her lungs out yet her mother clap her hands on her mouth and her father pressed his lips thin.

"We know Elias is your boyfriend. (Y/N), don't be afraid. We are your parents". Then why ? Then why she doesn't feel the warmth from her parents as if they are distant people wearing familiar faces because the words spoken from their lips doesn't make sense.

"He was never my boyfriend ! Who ever told you that ? Don't assume things on your own". Frustration leaking though her voice, eyes narrowed in a glare and lips in disdain from stress.

"He told us himself. Elias told us when he delivery the cake ! Now don't tell me he was lying". Her father sigh stunned to see her daughter's rebellious side at such age.

"W-what ?" She stutter suddenly the world blurred, the walls melt away like a watercolor painting. The room zoomed out, leaving her suspended in a sea of uncertainty. Furniture and decorations receded into the distance, and she felt like she was floating, disconnected from reality. Their voices turn to distant echoes, thoughts a jumbled mess, as shock wrapped around her like a shroud.

"Why would he be my boyfriend ?"

"Why are you asking us ? You are the one in relationship and you are the one to hid it if not for the good man". Enough. The last straw of her held anger cut.

"G-G-Good man ? Good man ? Good fucking man ! You are calling a man who—who—" Words trailed off, lost in the abyss of her own horror, as she struggled to articulate the vile truth. "A-and that good man—" Despite her effectors the sentences remained unfinished, a haunting echo of her own trauma leaving her succumbed to the darkness of her memories.

"(Y/N)". Her mother's brows quiver and her hand touch hers. "I understand". A sense of relief came to her. Her mother understood, understood her assault by the vile, vile man. "I understand couple fight. They fight a lot and dirty but in the end they fight to be better, to be more loving, setting differences aside fight is normal as long as the couple love each other. You going through a rough patch with Elias is normal. He is a good man, believe your mother's judgment". Her words burn a slap on her cheek and her words were salt on (Y/N)'s wound.

"How dare you !" Her voice shattered the air, a raw, anguished with tears rolling down her cheeks. "How dare you labeled a man who forcefully kiss me ! Get out". Standing up, her eyes close feeling her throat constricted, dry and tight, as shame crept in like a thief, stealing her breath and dignity.

"Oh my (Y/N), couples fights are normal so is kissing. He must have meant it to calm you—"

"So he forced himself on me ?"

"He must not had meant to make you—". Her eyes wide in horror watching their impassive expressions oblivious to her distress she felt a stranger rather than daughter sharing a space now. Their faces blur by her teary vision. They are not her parents. They are strangers. They are not her parents if they slide with a stranger who not only forced himself on her but also lied.

"Get out". She commonded raw, loud and clear walking to her bedroom running from the suffocated, unbreathable small space. Her eyes watched her parents walked away, their figures fading into the distance. She felt a complex layers of emotions and when they turned their heads, she quickly shut the curtains, blocking out the sight of their faces. Her strength couldn't bear to look at them, couldn't bear to see their nonchalant expressions.

Turning away from the window and sat down on her bed, her hands shaking as she reached for her phone. She needed someone to talk to, someone who would understand. Her fingers dialed the familiar number of her best friend, the one person she knew would listen without judgment. The phone rang, (Y/N) felt a lump form in her throat. She was ready to unleash all her emotions, to share the pain and confusion that had been building up inside her. She took a deep breath, preparing to pour out her heart to her friend, the only one who could offer her the comfort and support she desperately needed.

"Hello (Y/N) ! How do you do ?" Her ray of light spoke.

"Emily. I-I-I want to talk to you about something".

"Sure, anything (Y/N) ! Aren't I your best friend". Lighthearted giggles on the otherhand comfort her ears.

"The thing is, remember Elias ?"

"Oh ! What about him ? The hottie". A bitter taste left her lips hearing her sound so oblivious yet she understand it's not her fault.

"Well, yes. He yesterday forced himself on me". Silent was the line for a second before a loud screeching noise came.

"What ? That's messed up !" Her firm and resolute voice felt a weight lift from (Y/N)'s heart, a sense of validation wash over her. She was no longer alone in her outrage and hurt. Emily's words were a balm to her soul, soothing her raw emotions. Feeling seen, heard, and believed.

"I knew it you woul—"

"But you see we have to also must see his point of view. He must had done that in desperation to be more than friends with benefits with you. I know normally friends with benefits should know their limits but he is a kind, pure and perfect man for you". As fast as the ray of light came, that vanished in front of her soaking her in cold reality, numbing her heart. Icy truth seeped in, crushing her soul.

"W-what are you talking about Emily ? I never had that kind of relationship with him !! Didn't I told you ?" More tears cover the dry ones, confusion lay on her mind to wonder how each important person to her is on his side.

"Gosh ! (Y/N) forgive me actually Elias told me about your relationship. He was even ashamed to admit it at first before whole heartedly declare his romantic feelings for you that even I was touched". Lies. Lies and lies. Gritted her teeth she decline the call, throwing it on her bed.

Madly her lips parted to scream. Ha ! What a wicked man he is, feeding lies to her loved ones, snatching them away from her and all in an blink of eye and right under her nose. How idiot was she to not notice ? How ? How ? How ? Rage pump on her veins and emotions controlled her rationality.

Swifty she call his number, clenching her fist. "Hello darling, I was waiting for your call". His sickly sweet voice came from the other line.

"Stop this you fucking bastard ! Stop these mind games ! Stop the lies". (Y/N) glare at him though phone.

"Ouch ! Calling my love lies, games hurt more than I expected. I guess this is the power of loving someone. Huh ?" His laughter was like a taunting to her, racing her pulses.

"I will kill you !" She threaten.

"Oh how lovely it is to have your hand on me as I take my last breath". She throw the phone across her bed in disgust and helpless not aware he is driving to her house. Finally obtained the moment he was so patiently awaited. The time to have her vulnerable and alone.

Wasn't she sound so cute right now ? He bite his lips betting she looks more adorable.

Spoiled. Growing up he was spoiled by everyone, every meeting face from his childhood, once they look at his face, they drastically change their behaviors, showering him with free gifts, praises and all, regardless of old or young. He was the beloved of their hearts, the king ruling their minds. Thus, growing up being spoiled wasn't new for him, the admiration stares mixing with some disband doesn't affect him why ? Because that means they are jealous of him. Ha ! Who wouldn't, he didn't view his arrogance as bad, he simply believe it as his confidence nothing more, nothing less after all all women confess to him one after another non-stop yet never did he loved any. Until that fateful day he went to the shopping mall of department store meeting that adorable woman, all red, blushly for him. It amused him to end, what a pleasant play toy to enjoy for sometimes however the drastic change due to her professionalism was a behold see.

She was nothing like the woman he saw that day. He almost tricked into thinking she forget him.

"We met once again, Miss (L/N)"

"Of course, Sir Elias".

Good, she didn't forget him. She simply wanted to act professional. How fun. He enjoyed nailling his usual performance that for some reasons always got him claps, praises when in reality he just does it naturally because he has nothing else to do. Unlike other people investing in their hobby, he has nothing. Perhaps because of that he is used to being pampered, loved and given anything he wish.

However why ? Why once again like yesterday after the event end did she not stay to convey meaningless string of words like others ? Always running away like an lamb catching sight of an wolf. Boring. Elias care not to pay attention to her after all many have dislike him but thousands who love him. The next day encountering her again was a pure game of fates but after noting her little consider habits did he realize she loves him.

Because if she doesn't, who will notice the uneven box of lipstick replacing with the perfect one ? If she doesn't, why she glance at him so many times ? Often smiling and appearing cheerful ? If she doesn't, why she always remembers his drink from the one time he ordered ? And so much more.

She must love him. Right ? Oh ! Oh ! How naive he was to not realize her blunt feelings for him. It's okay he has fallen for her too. Yes, Elias, the man who usual pampered has this sudden desire to pamper his beloved, watching her daily or even seen a glimpse of her flutter his heart like never did before. Their accidental brushes of fingers and shoulders sent him jolts of delight. Once seen her beautiful face could his lips curve to smile itself.

It's okay he will wait. Wait for her to confess and him accept. One week pass, two week pass. Maybe she is playing hard to get. Understandable she must be waiting for the perfect moment to confess that must mean he has to appear perfect right ? Daily he spent hours in front of mirror selecting the perfect outfit, smoothly care his hair, highlight his beautiful face. First it was only limited to changing outfits to style his hair daily to cut his hair in more desirable way to only repeat the routine. Each passing day he is refining himself then why ? Why ? Why didn't she even compliment him ? Let alone confess to him already ? He dolled himself up almost—no surely daily yet what is she so timid about. Til he realize —actually she isn't timid at all.

Rather she is not in love with him. How he got to know ? Because he was hastily ran to the mall, very giggy to meet the heart of his life when his breath stuck in his throat. In front of him a scene of (Y/N) tying a middle aged man's tie that came untie and she welcome him warmly in return of his thanks before talking warmly to the staffs asking if any needs they wishes to have, even helping a woman who's having trouble wearing lipstick and non-judgmentally explaining their products to others.

She is actually not in love with him. She is just nice. As if the gods played a ridicule game to him still his hatred was directed to the gods not her. How could he blame her ? She was a naive little thing. Sooner of later she will come to love him. That's why one day he asked her.

"Do you like me ?"

"Yes, As a good friend !" What a dishearten words.

"I like you too." In a romantic way were the words he choose to not speak. It's okay, if she doesn't like him now she will in the future. All she needs is time. He has to nurture, sewed and take time to built the love or else how it would be possible. First he has to make her alone. Alone to reply on him. And only him.

And the gods were at his side to grace him with the opportunity on golden plate he was used to. Using the excuse to delivery the cake to her parents house was the first step to isolate her. So he did what he was naturally gifted at, winning hearts regardless of age. Quickly they were head over hell, swooning at his lies about their secret relationship and more lies about their wish to keep it a secret as she want to disclose it on her own term. Fools, her parents were and naive his (Y/N) was moving closer to him. Showing him pictures of her friends, spewing all of her work related words and he silently memorize her password so when she went to use restroom or busy checking her tasks, he smartly save all of her contacts.

Charming her friends, dancing them at his rhythm against her, saying they are friends with benefits where he was unfortunate to fall in love and finally he invited (Y/N) home and confess his passionate love.

"You disgust me".

Well, didn't it end badly ? It's alright she will come crawling to him. Right inside his embrace all willingly. Elias will be the bigger person in here, forgiving her amuture mistakes because he loves her.

Ring ! Ring ! Elias stand in front of his beloved house, ringing the doorbell. The finale came and his patient broke all lose. This is the moment she has to be his and he hers.

"Mom, Dad ! I told you—" Her breath hitched and instinctively tried to slam the door shut, but he was too swift, too potent. His hand darted out, arresting the door's momentum with a firm yet gentle touch, and he stepped across the threshold with a fluid motion. The door creaked in defeat, surrendering to his quiet strength. (Y/N) retreated, her heart racing like a wild animal, as Elias's eyes seemed to delve into her very essence. His presence was a palpable force, filling the space with an almost suffocating intensity. With a subtle click, he closed the door behind him, his hand lingering on the doorknob as his gaze continued to hold hers captive.

"What's the hurry hmm ?" The gentle smile contrast to the violent actions was ironic. Unfazed he step forward. She step back.

He advanced, his footsteps deliberate and purposeful and (Y/N) retreated, her own steps faltering in a desperate bid for distance.

With each step he took forward, she mirrored with a hesitant step back, her eyes fixed on his, her breath caught in her throat.

"What are you doing here ?" Alarm danger ringing inside her entire body, sending mix signals to her flight, fight or freeze mode. All she felt being hovered by him was fear, no longer the anger fuming her veins.

"Just here to visit my darling". In sing song manner he told, walking until his wild cat cornered. (Y/N) feeling the wooden wall of her kitchen immediately run away near the stairs.

"Just stay there—". Her words cut off.

"Do you love me ?" Using the same honeyed coated voice he asked.

"I will call the police Elias !" She threatened

"Do you love me ?" He bore his lagoon eyes into her (E/C) ones.

"Please stay away".

"If you answer. Do you love me".

"No. I don't". She spat, bewilded by the fact he would wish for her to love him even after the twisted games he played with her.

"Then will you love me ?" Her face contorted in mix of anxiety and exasperation.

"No". Nodding calmly to her denial he picked the nearby kitchen knife scarying her further.

"No. No. No. No. No. Elias ! Please don't do this—"

"I must or else you won't be mine". Saying she was ready to sprint for her survival however he pressed the knife to his throat, tears streaming down his face like rivulets of sorrow, his eyes pleading for her. "Please be mine or I will kill myself". He gaze fondly at her widen ones.

"You are crazy". She whispered not expected such move.

"Yes, I am for you". A sly, mirthless grin spread across Elias's face, his lips curling upward in a macabre smile. "So will you love me ?"

Tears swelled in her eyes, fear and despair mingling watching his steady hand inch the sharp blade closer.

"No wait !"

"Then say do you love me ?" He whisper alike to the sweet nothings hushes. "Because without you why must I stay alive". He added.

"Okay okay I will say it". She doesn't know. She doesn't know why she says it because a twisted sense of desperation clawed at her chest, a morbid longing to preserve the life of the one she loathed, as if his existence was inextricably linked to her own.

"I l-l-lo— I can't". In despair she collapse unable to bear so many complicated emotions and nightmares at the same time in her seemly simple life. Footsteps echoed the silent room as his shoes came to her view and he bend to her level, throwing the knife and cupping her chin like she was a delicate flower despite plucking her roots and held her.

"It's all right you will learn to love me". A happy smile curve his alluring lips that press against hers. This time the is gentle, caressing and lovely as if petals of love is pouring out of his lips silently conveying his words. Slipping his tongue in hers, he trapped her tongue savoring her divine flovours he was thirsty to drink again. Sucking mouthful of air he kiss more, not letting their lips separated for a moment and close his eyes drowning under the moment while she close her eyes motionlessly stilled, letting him do as he please selling herself to him with the price of forever.

As oxygen grew scarce, he parted their lips grinning ear to ear, leaning his forehead to hers.

"This is a lie. All of these are lies you said to others". She utter hopelessly.

"Then let's make it a reality". He suggested however brows frown watching her shake her head.

"Can't. Too much lies to forget".

Chuckly raspy, he kiss once more saying. "Then let's make it the beautiful lie".

FIN

⌜ Once again thank you @meo-eiru for letting me use your wonderful male character Elias and your permission to write this story along thank you readers for reading the story. Hope you enjoy it ⌟

[phregnancy]

i saw someone say they blanked on coming up with tit preshow questions so here are 40 questions i would ask that you can take

- does phil consume cannabis in any form for his migraines

- list three book recommendations

- will sister philip made an appearance for halloween this year

- will phil try a slutty halloween costume from spirit halloween

- if you had to change your height, what height would you be

- who bought the precious baby angel shirts

- can phil walk us through his philognese cooking process

- are you ordering deliveroo multiple times a day or do you get enough for leftovers

- what was dan’s clumsiest moment recently

- phil what are your favorite musicians/bands that aren’t muse

- dan what was the last song you learned to play on piano

- what is one aspect of your personality that you feel has changed the most over the last fifteen years

- phil once said he knows how to make salad, what does he put in his salads

- what is your least favorite liquor

- what was the most sentimental gift you’ve received recently

- has phil hurt himself since the rib breakage

- dan have you taken any color blindness tests since hearing about this theory

- phil shares little linguist facts every now and then, dan, is there anything you learned in university that’s worth sharing

- when was the last time you cried and what prompted it

- fmk: chappell roan, janelle monáe, kehlani

- who is your favorite character from scott pilgrim, and you can’t pick wallace

- what bingeworthy tv series have you watched recently

- if you couldn’t get a corgi or a shibe, what type of dog would you get

- how would you cope with going bald

- if you could each change one thing about each other what would it be

- has phil gotten more comfortable around babies since becoming a guncle

- what are your most embarrassing food moments (public spillage, being caught eating something you shouldn’t, etc)

- can’t be career related, what is one thing you both are looking forward to

- what studio ghibli character do you most relate to

- what is something not many people know about you / would assume about you

- what is your favorite quality in the other person

- has phil always been a gentle princess or is this a phlonde-era development

- when eating cereal, do you prefer to use a tablespoon or a teaspoon

- if dan is concerned with phil stealing his cereal, why doesn’t he start buying two boxes

- phil have you had any interesting dreams lately

- if dan has to cook, what is his go-to meal

- where did you get your mario piranha bouquet from

- you two have gone to many award shows and events wearing two button suits, with both buttons buttoned. are you aware that you’re always supposed to leave the bottom button open

- any nailsinki plans? will phil get his nails painted this time?

- what do you like more about manchester than you do london

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Professional Indiscretion

Inspired by this post

Warnings: non/dubcon, degradation, demeaning behaviour, cheating, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Character: Loki Laufeyson

Summary: a colleague returns from a recent vacation but is less than relaxed.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️

You’ve honed the skill of indifference long ago. The voices that carry from down the hall meld together in a dull buzz as you push them to the back of your mind. You’re less concerned with the latest water cooler gossip as your deadline bears down on you. 

You hate when a project comes down to the line. It couldn’t be helped. What should have been a two-person assignment was dropped solely in your lap. It isn’t the first time and won’t be the last. Your colleagues are less than reliable. 

As their voices glaze over each other, you shrug of your resent. They all have their obligations; golf rounds or the windfall of courtside tickets. You’ve never been afforded the luxury of a half-day to go play. You are the dependable one; as far as your coworkers are concerned, you have nothing going on besides picking up their slack. 

Work is work. You don’t linger on it; you just get it done. A peel of laughter jars you from your focus. You should close your door but that’s just an invitation. The last time, they simply moved in front of your door and spoke even louder. It’s like a game to them. 

Caroline’s bubbly laughter trills down the hall. She’s joined the rabble. One of the young temps the men love to flirt with. ‘Oh it makes me feel young again.’ Ugh, you couldn’t imagine turning the clock back twenty years. You’re happy that era of your life is over. 

You squint at the monitor and review your work. There’s a subtle tap on your doorframe. Your flicks up and back down. Loki. 

“Yes, how can I help you?” You ask as your fingers flutter over the keyboard. 

“Good afternoon to you too,” he drawls as he breaks the threshold. 

“Afternoon,” you continue to type. You try not to think of how this was meant to be his project. 

“I’m only doing my rounds. As you know, I was recently abroad and I brought back some sweets,” he crosses your office and sets a blurry object down in your peripheral. 

“That’s generous, I don’t have much of a sweet tooth.” You say. 

“You’re welcome,” he overrides your protest. 

You sniff, “thanks.” 

He’s quiet as he stands across from you. His gaze hangs over you like a dark cloud. You check the auto-save and retract your hands. You push your shoulders back and look at him. 

“You were the only who didn’t come out to congratulate me,” he muses. 

You sit straight. You are not unkind or inconsiderate. You just don’t come to work to socialize. You signed the card they sent with the flowers. 

“Congratulations on your wedding. It seems it was a success,” you say. 

He doesn’t react right away. He just stares at you. His green eyes are sharp and his lips a thin line. It isn’t the ego stroking he was looking for. You’re not quite sure what more to say. You’re not very familiar. 

He scoffs, “I see.” 

You blink, confused by the derision in his tone. You look at him past your monitor as he slowly pivots on his heel. It scuffs loudly and he marches to the door. He stops right before it then delicate grabs the handle and draws it shut. 

You tilt your head curiously, “I’m just finishing up a project, so I don’t have very much time--” 

“You’ve always been a dry old spinster, haven’t you?” He slithers as he faces you again. 

“Pardon?” You’re genuinely stunned by his accusation. It’s not the first time you’ve met with that sort of spite. There is a contempt reserved only for older women. 

“Yes, you strut around here as if you are a queen. Above us all, and I come to you with a token of good will, a souvenir from my honeymoon, and it only reminds you of how utterly pathetically alone you truly are,” he sneers. “So you offer me that trite look and your empty tiding.” 

You scrunch your lips in surprise and cup your hand in confusion, “nothing of the like. I’m sorry, I am rather busy with my work--” 

“Oh but this isn’t just today. It’s how it’s always been. You cannot be happy for anyone for your own misery,” he tuts. 

“If that’s what you think,” you sit back calmly. “I think you should go.” 

He lingers on the other side of your desk, “it’s because she’s young, I know it.” 

“What?” 

“My new wife. I see how it makes you bristle to know a man of your peerage couldn’t be bothered with you. You see, women age differently. They become bitter.” He snarls. 

“I hardly see how this is appropriate. I am asking you to go--” 

He sets his stance and lowers himself into the chair across from you. He smirks and pushes back his dark curls. Your spine locks up. That look in his eye, you’ve seen that in men before. 

“I know what the matter is,” he pushes his feet wide and grips his thighs. He postures so his shoulders are wide and high. “How long has it been?” 

You refuse to acknowledge his jeer. You shift to your monitor and go back to your editing. He clucks. 

“Months, years?” He suggests. 

“I’m busy,” you insist, keeping your eyes averted. 

“What the wife doesn’t know...” he growls. 

You flinch, appalled by his suggestion. 

“Leave,” you say. 

He snickers. “Are you so resigned to your feeble existence? Those lonely nights? In your condo, drinking your chardonnay, reclining on your chaise and reading the latest lascivious rag written for pruny old divorcees?” 

You freeze then slowly look at him. It could be a cruel assumption, though it isn’t untrue. In fact, it is far too accurate to be a coincidence. Down to the chaise and the chardonnay. 

“And that toy you keep in your jewelry box,” he curls a finger to mimic the curved shape. “Do you even feel it anymore?” 

“Get out,” you hiss. 

He smirks and arches a brow, “come.” 

He beckons with two fingers. You clutch the armrests of your chair and your nose flairs. You glare back at him, horrified. A newly married man and he’s here propositioning you. What’s more, he’s been watching you. 

“You’re disgusting--” 

“Get up,” he rubs his thigh. “And come here.” 

“HR--” 

“Oh, I know Bradon well. I will be happy enough to explain how you’ve grown so jealous of my young wife. You’re overworked so of course you couldn’t control yourself--” 

“He wouldn’t believe you--” 

“Wouldn’t he? We play squash on Sundays. He knows my character well. An upstanding member of the country club--” 

“Why are you doing this? What do you want me to say? Hm? Congratulations on your pretty young wife. Now, you should go home to her,” you snip. 

“I don’t want you to say anything,” he taunts as his eyes narrow snakishly. “I want you to come sit in my lap so I can show you how useless that toy truly is.” 

“You are--” 

“I am your villain,” he undercuts you. “And you have two choices. You can finish that project and submit it and have it tossed out for your indiscretions or you can do what I tell you and still have a job to support you wined-up erotica sessions.” 

You curl your lip, repulsed. There’s no point in asking why. Men do not operate on logic. 

“What’s it going to be?” 

You grit your teeth and take a deep breath. You push yourself to your feet and steady yourself. You move stiffly around the desk, eyes on the wall as you near him. As you get close, he grabs your hip and turn you. He forces you down so roughly that your ankles bend. 

You catch yourself on him, grabbing his hands as he grips you tight, and you writhe against his obvious arousal. A man like him can only get off on his own ego. You shudder and grasp his wrists. 

He pulls you back against his and rests his chin on your shoulder. You squirm as he untangles his arm from your hold. He hooks his arm around your stomach as his other tugs at your skirt. You huff and claw at his sleeves. 

“Alright, that’s enough, you’ve made your point--” 

He shoves his hand against your panties, pushing the satin between your folds. You gasp and twitch. You push your thighs together and crush his fingers. It only adds pressure. 

“You remember the day I started,” he turns to nuzzle your neck as he speaks, “and you had to make it known that you weren’t an assistant advisor, you were a senior.” He moves his fingers between the clutch of your tensed thighs. “That you were above me?” 

“No, I--” you gulp slap at his wrist. 

“Oh, and look at you now. Still above me, eh? Right there... on top of me,” he buries his hand against you and nips at your neck meanly. “You will be on your knees soon enough,” he flicks his fingers harshly and you spasm. “Right where you belong.” 

[sangreprince]

I wanna keep this brief (graphic design is my passion level effort but also it kinda works in a really funny way) !!! I wanna let you all know I appreciate the love you've given Zagreus and I'm so so happy to be here. You're all great and wonderful and I could say so many good things to say about each and every one of my mutuals. So fuck it, that's what I'mma do. Because you all truly deserve it. I'm super happy with Zagreus and being able to share my portrayal and have it be well received means so much !!! It's easy to say 'thank you all so much' but I want to acknowledge that I truly do appreciate and care about each and every one of my mutuals, even if my time / availability makes it tough at times. PART 1/4

@withinchains / @hercarnality : Elle you already know how much ily so I'm gonna keep this short. You're such an amazing friend and writer and you already have the screenshot about me gushing pinned so eat my shorts and play arams with me. Your Morgana is to die for and you write every character to a fucking T because of how you just interpret all their personalities and put them into words SO effortlessly.

@lasraichean : NEMO U SMELL LIKE BEEF and I think you're fantastic. You pour so much effort into all your OCs and that passion does you so much credit. You absolutely shower Annie with love in such a way that I shower everyone else with unrequested amounts of fromsoft lore so MWAH.

@blackrosesmatron : Lucy your LB is fantastic and you're so easy to talk to and communicate with. Genuinely every time we sit down and plot I find myself getting so enthralled in her antics and character. You do her so much justice

@avernusfuries : HAN You single handedly made me like Karlach and that isn't even a joke. Before we met and started writing I always thought her story was one of the weaker ones and you somehow managed to turn her into one of the more realized characters in the game. HATS OFF TO YOU and every day I beg for more of this big doofus.

@feuerwizard : Crys I know I need to get back to you for plotting things, I've just been so busy but I want to say: You and some of the other CR writers you write with are so talented and I adore reading your posts. Were it not for you guys I still probably wouldn't have any interest in CR and I'm so so excited to get started with more stuff and actually get threads going!

@soulcluster : Lilah I think all your portrayals are excellent. Your MM deserves all the attention it gets and I honestly couldn't pick a favorite muse if gave me truth serum. Plotting with you is a blast and I'm so thankful for all the ideas we pass between eachother!

@pitgritted : Your Sett, Taric, and Mutli are all so well done Jojo. I can tell you really care about all the people you write and it shines so brightly, right down the amount of detail you place into every reply and how you format things. Passion shows in the end and this is no exception!!

@palespawn : This sassy motherfucker. We've only just started writing and I still need to get to replies but you've showed interest since almost day one and I cant say how much I appreciate that. Courtney you do such a beautiful job with the twink, I almost dont wanna stab him. Almost~

@infinitysagas : I first of all wanna say thank you for writing such underappreciated characters. To see Damon get love brings me so much joy, I always take a second to read his posts when I see them come up. I know we haven't done a ton but please know that I see your writing and totally wanna do stuff, I'm just very busy skdjhf.

@deathdxnces : Irelia was a character I never cared about too much, but how you humanize her so much and have expanded on her character beyond what Riot's given us does SO much for me. I actually adore how you portray her, Mel, and I wish to get writing at some point soon!! I know you liked a starter a bit ago and I do plan to get to that, but please do not hesitate to hit me up for plotting in the meantime. It really does help and I promise I don't bite!!

@tealbeats : I know you're not super active on Ez (and I still owe you a lot of stuff actually) but I wanna say I love the amount of his personality you're able to paint into every interaction. You have such a way of making him the perfect amount of insufferable (in the best way) while still twisting it in SUCH an endearing light. I love that annoying little bug and I'm so glad you do too, because it really shows.

@agonizedembrace : Han it's been really nice to reach out and get into contact again. You're genuinely a really funny, interesting, and thoughtful person who cares about Evelynn in such a way that brings out every aspect of her character. The agony, the sex appeal, the sass, the confidence, you just nail all of it and I'm really hoping we can get stuff going soon!

@bendwill : Elder scrolls blogs are few and far between, but Miraak is absolutely one of those characters that deserves to be more written out. We haven't gotten to do a ton but please don't hesitate to hit me up and scream ideas at me, the idea of Tamrielic Zagreus is very fascinating to me. (And also I need somebody to ramble about my Oblivion D&D Campaign ideas with skdfjh)

@ofweave : First of all, trans gale is based as fuck and you have a vision. Second of all, I know you're on hiatus but once you come back I'd be so happy to get the ball rolling with this stinky wizard man!!

@kismetwilled : I'm not gonna lie, seeing how you pour effort into your headcanons and thoughtful replies kind of inspired me to do similar with my own. I also want to say that I'd love to plot more and yell ideas all day with you, your style is gorgeous and I find myself appreciating characters on your blog I've never even heard of or are barely familiar with. Seriously Dani, it's top tier and I'm so happy to be mutuals.

@enrogued : We haven't gotten anything started with but I'm so hyped. Rogue as a character has such fascinating potential with her powers, and that's not to mention her attitude towards others in general. Once stuff gets started I'm probably never gonna shut up in your DMs but like that's a constant sdfjkh STILL!!

@lunarrepel : Shadowheart my beloved. The aesthetics, writing, dialog, everything you do with her is SO on point and I can't get over it. I was already biased and liked her after Larian adjusted her a bit during the beta phase of BG3 but still. Man you just nail her and I'm so excited to develop these two out. They give wine aunt energy and THAT alone gives me so much life.

@dreadgloom / @cinderschild : I wont lie to you I was GIDDY when I found out you wrote a WoTR character. I honestly expected that fandom to have more of a presence on tumblr but I'll take what small fanclub we can get right?? And also can I comment on the takes you have from Salvatore are absolutely genius and play really well into WoTC's drow?? Genuinely fantastic worldbuilding and it's always a pleasure to see you crop up on the dash.

@nightsbloom : Your headcanons and replies have been gorgeus and I just want to say despite me being really busy and not getting around to approaching yet, I'm so excited??? Also a while back you reblogged a Qimir gifset and it's still living rent free in my head so thank you for the food chef--- Please though, if you have any thoughts or even just dynamic ideas - toss them at me at mach 5 and I will run with them because I'm HYPE.

@spiderwarden : I think you officially win the title of Minthara's #1 fan. Her performance (as I've mentioned) is absolutely captivating, as is your writing. I'm very excited to see where her interactions with Zagreus go and writing with you (or even just seeing your random hc posts and comments) is such a blast. I will always sit down and listen to you ramble about her, I think she's so fascinating and that's in no small part to how you manage to inject so much life and love into her despite all the cut content.

[antiquarianfics]

Taken pt. 10

If Bucky Barnes could time travel, he would go back to that morning. He would hold you a little tighter in his arms, and he would kiss you a little deeper. He would pull your daughter in between the two of you, letting her giggle as loudly as she wants whilst her parents kiss her cheeks and tickle her belly. If Bucky Barnes could time travel, he would have told you not to go to the park—to go anywhere else. But Bucky Barnes can’t time travel, and his wife and daughter are gone.

a/n: sorry for the hiatus. here’s this. it’s not proofed. yay!

warnings: swearing, blackmail, mention of murder, themes of conspiracy, canon typical violence.

note: I do not own the character Bucky Barnes or any other Marvel affiliated characters. Any and all characters are a work of fiction and any likeness to real persons is wholly unintentional.

You do not have permission to copy, translate, or repost my work; however, feel free to like, comment, and reblog.

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previous part | series masterlist | next part

»»———-———-———-———-———-———-———-««

“Well, my targets are gone,” you sigh, glancing down the hallway you had seen Steve run. You click your tongue and return your focus to Bucky, shaking your head slightly.

“Sorry, honey,” you say, knocking him out.

—

Bucky comes to with a groan, sitting up from his position on the floor, a hand holding his head. He blinks a couple of times, scanning the room for any sign of you. You’re nowhere to be found. Shaking his head, he pulls himself off the ground, and starts heading to the meetup spot he and Steve had agreed on months ago in case Becca had to be taken somewhere safe.

As Bucky travels, he replays the conversation he’d had with you. Why the hell would you bring up a Greek myth? He struggles to make any sense of it, but then his brain picks out a particular part of your story:

“Orpheus didn’t get a second chance to save Eurydice. Zeus killed Orpheus because he was afraid Orpheus would tell the humans all the secrets of the Underworld. Some versions say that the Muses kept his head, though, to sing songs forever. They managed to hear his voice even after he died.”

“Why are you telling me this?”

“Don’t turn around, James.”

Your warning—“Don’t turn around, James”— was certainly a code. After all, if you had struck a deal with Frost, and if you were working with HYDRA, then you were probably being watched, listened to. You couldn’t speak freely. But why Orpheus and Eurydice? Why that story?

“Don’t turn around, James.”

Orpheus turned around… Why is that important?

“Don’t turn around, James.”

“This has to be a metaphor for us,” Bucky thinks. “Does she mean I’m Orpheus, then? Eurydice was trapped in the Underworld… Y/N is trapped by HYDRA… Does she mean to stop looking for her? Or does she mean to trust she has a plan? That she knows what she’s doing?”

Zeus killed Orpheus because he was afraid he would tell all the secrets of the Underworld.

Then, it clicked. Bucky isn’t sure exactly what it is that changed how he interpreted your story, but, suddenly, everything made sense:

1. Chance one to save Y/N: Russia. I didn’t save her. I only saved Becca. She is saying I don’t get another chance to try for her.

2. Y/N is picking off people Frost is afraid will come between him and HYDRA. Right now, I’m not apart of that list. Proof: She let me go. If I attempt a second rescue, she will have no choice; they will tell her to take me out. Besides that, they will certainly threaten Becca, and we agreed when she was born that Becca always comes first.

3. The muses kept his head? They won’t kill me. She doesn’t want me to come after her because they will just capture me. She won’t give me up, but she’s more likely to slip up if it comes to me. A slip up is more likely to lead to… They’ll wipe me. She doesn’t want me to come after her because they’ll wipe me if they capture me.

Bucky sighs as he arrives at the rendezvous he and Steve had agreed on. He feels a little better now that he understands more of what you were saying, but he still feels like there is a piece of the puzzle missing.

—

The team goes into hiding. You had revealed a lot about the dangers of HYRDA’s plans, but they still know so little. The team knew you had targets—important targets—that you were being forced to eliminate. They discerned the targets were people HYDRA feel are threats against their mission, but they still don’t have a definite list.

“We’re sitting ducks!” Tony shouts angrily into the room.

“Stark,” Fury says gravely, “watch it.”

“I’m sorry, but we are. We have no new intel. HYDRA is AWOL. The world is looking at us to do something, and we’ve got nothing.”

“Buck,” Steve says, “did Y/N say anything else that might give us a clue as to who she’s after?”

Bucky sighs, thinking back over the whole interaction from the moment you got there to the moment you knocked him out. It was as he replayed your conversation on the roof that it clicked: the missing puzzle piece. Bucky meets Steve’s eyes.

“She told me who she’s after.”

“Well?” Tony questions impatiently. “Who?”

“When I met her on the roof,” Bucky says, “Y/N told me she was marking 3 names off her list. That means her next three targets were in the Compound.”

“FRIDAY,” Tony says, “get me a list of every person who was in the Compound at the time of the break in.” FRIDAY responds in the affirmative.

“Then,” Bucky continues, “she asked me…” Bucky trails off as he tries to remember how exactly you worded the question. “She asked me: ‘You’re not all that close to Captain America, are you?’

“I thought it was weird how she worded that. I’ve known Steve longer than anyone, and it was weird she called him ‘Captain America.’ But that was her clue. HYDRA has no problem with Steve Rogers—”

“But Captain America has been ruining their plans since the ‘40s,” Steve says, arms crossed as he puts together what Bucky is saying. Bucky nods.

“So the other two targets have to have been in the Compound at the time of the attack, and they have to be people that have significantly messed with HYDRA somehow,” Sam thinks aloud.

Bucky thought. Who else could HYDRA consider a threat to their cause? Who else has been foiling HYDRA’s plans time after time? Bucky scanned the room, eyes carefully considering each person. It could be any of the Avengers, he thought, but then you would likely have more than 3 targets. His eyes settle on Fury. Bingo.

“Fury’s a target.”

All eyes are on Bucky.

“How you figure?” Someone asks. Bucky doesn’t clock who, his mind still attempting to fit puzzle pieces together.

“Captain America is an obvious choice. It can’t be another Avenger because you’ve done equal damage to their cause. It’s not me because they don’t want me dead—I’m valuable to them. But Fury? Fury created the Avengers. Fury is the leader. He’s also the director of SHIELD: HYDRA’s number 1 obstacle. It makes sense.”

Fury hums in agreement. “Rogers and I make the most sense. We still have a third target to identify, though.”

Bucky nods in acknowledgment, but his eyes settle on Coulson beside Fury.

“Coulson.”

Coulson’s eyebrows shoot up in surprise, as if he never would have expected he could be so important to Bucky. He swallows and composes himself, and when he speaks, he is calm, confident.

“I do make sense. My team and I have given HYDRA a real headache, and, like Fury, I’m the leader.”

—

With a list of targets that the team was agreed upon and confident in, it was time for a plan. They’d been idle too long. The plan is simply to get you back first, stop HYDRA second, but the way Bucky see is it, you are crucial to Frost’s plan. If they get you, Frost will be scrambling.

“Okay, team,” Steve says into a huddle. “Stick to the plan. The tip we sent out says I’ll be on a solo recon mission, so they’ll be waiting. Y/N will be waiting.

The goal is to get Y/N and bring her home.”

“And we’re sure she’s not just going to kill you?” Sam asks, facetiously. Bucky scowls.

“We have to hope that she really is just playing HYDRA’s game to stay alive,” Steve says solemnly.

—

“Any sign of her?” Natasha asks into the coms.

“No,” Clint says.

“Redwing and I got nothing,” Sam says.

The coms go silent as the team waits. Steve carefully walks through the hallways of the abandoned HYDRA facility. He’s careful—he half expects you to step out of nowhere and shoot at him.

He turns the corner into what appears to be the facility’s security room. Computer monitors line the walls, each showing different hallways or facility entrances. The room is bland and dark except for the monitors and the light emitting from them.

Steve’s eyes take in the security footage, the room, and the woman sitting in a large desk chair in front of the monitors, legs propped up on the desk the security equipment rests on.

“Y/N?” Steve asks.

“You found her?” Bucky asks quickly, heartbeat picking up. He had been ordered to stay behind in the quinnjet, but if Steve found you, he’s leaving.

“Hi, Cap,” you say pleasantly. “Been a while.”

“You tried to kill me a week ago.”

You frown. “You still mad about that?”

Steve scoffs. “Y/N, what’s going on?”

“What’s going on, Captain America,” a third voice chimes in, “is the fall of the Avengers, of SHIELD, and the rise of HYDRA.”

“Frost,” Steve says, presuming he’s meeting the “mastermind” behind the whole endeavor.

“Captain Rogers,” Frost says with an over animated grin. “A pleasure!”

Steve turns back to you, ignoring Frost’s greeting. “You missed.”

“I won’t miss this time,” you say, the corner of your mouth twitching.

“I don’t doubt it,” Steve replies. “I’ve never known you to miss. Best sniper on the team.”

“Steven,” you say, an edge to your voice that confuses Steve. He opens his mouth to answer, but the sound of a gun cocking beats him to it.

Behind Steve, and then behind Frost, stands Bucky; he has a gun to Frost’s head. It’s clear that Bucky had snuck up on him.

“Well! Isn’t it nice of you to join us, Sergeant Barnes,” Frost says. “I just love a little family reunion. Tell me, how is the Mini Asset? Hmm?”

Still holding the gun to Frost’s head with his right hand, Bucky’s left hand goes around Frost’s throat.

“Watch it.”

“Buck, we need him alive,” Steve warns. Bucky releases Frost’s neck. However, in the small amount of time that this interaction took place, Frost had, unbeknownst to the three of you, snuck something out of his pocket.

“Well, this has been fun. I’m sure we will meet again soon,” Frost’s tone is sardonic. “Just know, Captain Rogers, Sergeant Barnes, that you may have gotten your little bitch back today, but this is far from over. HYDRA will rise again. SHIELD will fall.”

Then, Frost throws what he had pulled from his pocket to the ground and smoke quickly billows up into the room, filling your lungs and making you cough. You hear footsteps—Frost running. He must have taken Bucky by surprise, too.

When the smoke clears, you face your husband and run into his arms for the first time since being kidnapped.

—

After being rescued from Frost, Bucky and the team take you back to the Avengers’ makeshift headquarters. They (with profuse apologies) blindfold you on the way so that you’re not able to leak any information if you have actually turned against them, or accidentally give something away if HYDRA is watching somehow.

“I’m sorry, Doll. Y’know I trust you with my life, but we gotta be sure,” Bucky says. You rest your hand on his and squeeze.

“It’s fine. I understand.”

Upon your arrival to the HQ, you’re taken to an interrogation room where Fury and Coulson ask you about the kidnap, the torture, the deal you struck, HYDRA’s plans, and everything else up to your rescue. They hook you up to a lie detector machine, even, and ask you if you are working with HYDRA, if you had gone dirty.

“I promise I only did what I had to survive and to keep my daughter alive. I had to do what HYDRA asked. They’re everywhere. They’re within SHIELD, even. I didn’t know who could hurt her,” you swore.

When Fury and Coulson are finally finished interrogating you, they tell you they think you have a chance of being acquitted. You were a prisoner of war, and, surely, the U.S. government would see that. However, until then, you were in SHIELD’s custody and to be locked up. You agree without protest.

As you’re walking out of the interrogation room, hands cuffed in front of you, you see Bucky holding a sleeping Becca in his arms waiting for you. Your eyes widen.

“What is she doing here?” You panic.

Bucky frowns. “I thought you might want to see her. She misses you.”

“Bucky, if she sees me right now, what will she think? I’m handcuffed. The last time she…” You trail off. “I don’t want to see her. Just… put her to bed. Give her a kiss for me. Tell her I love her. Don’t bring her by my cell.”

Bucky says nothing as a couple SHIELD agents lead you away.

—

It takes 2 months for you to be acquitted. You stay locked up in a SHIELD cell, refusing to see your daughter, barely speaking to anyone for 2 months. When you are finally acquitted, it is because a private grand jury hears your testimony, Becca’s testimony, and the testimony of the Avengers’, security and personnel from the White House there the night you assassinated the president, and the families of the deceased. The ordeal is heart wrenching. You are sentenced to a year of probation (including not going on missions as an Avenger) and weekly court mandated therapy, but you are free.

When the judge tells you, “Mrs. Y/N L/N-Barnes, you’re a free woman,” you let out a sob and feel yourself yanked into a firm chest that you’d recognize anywhere: Bucky.

“You’re okay, sweetheart. You’re coming home.”

»»———-———-———-———-———-———-———-««

@just-henny @jasminocano @browneyedgirl22-blog @barnesboo1967 @matchat3a @unkasworld @qwertyb2577 @raajali3 @yoruse @iilsenewman @alysianc @fairytalegirlofurdreams @marvelxlevram @casa-boiardi @buckybraneslover111 @hhiggs @smolracoon25 @questionableratatouille00 @heytheredemonsitsyourgirl @thearieunhinged @sebastianstansource @middaystarlight @talesofadragon @killerwendigo @ozwriterchick @kandis-mom

[6ronze]

JUST A BIT

꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ — wuthering waves characters : scar. fem!reader. format : oneshot. warnings : nsfw. mdni. scar flirting. brief masturbation. knee grinding. scar mostly focusing on your pleasure. long story short : just some scar getting rover service like he always wanted in the game notes : reader is addressed as rover + imagine ur wearing fem!rover’s top

You shouldn’t be with him. But here you are, at some isolated abandoned village with Scar, a member of the Fracsidus, also your supposed enemy. Scar has always had an interest in you—it wasn’t something he hid.

He wanted you, your attention, your anger, anything. And he was quite eager for it too considering how never stops following you, bugging you, fighting and threatening your friends just enough for them to call for your help. It was ridiculous really, how not even his sister knew why exactly he was utterly obsessed with you. You thought maybe it was because of the past you had forgotten—but from the shit he keeps asking and teasing you, it doesn’t seem like he personally gives a fuck about your past.

“Rover, maybe you should start thinking that coming to an abandoned village alone would be dangerous, hm?” Scar mused almost condescendingly, his hand gripping your wrists and pushing them down onto the bed beneath you.

“You’ll never know when there’s some trickster that might pull some tricks on you like this, princess,” he chuckled, pushing his kneed onto the bed between your legs as he leaned lower to you, a sly grin on his face despite the scowl on your face.

“Not me though. I’m just an opportunist,’’—was what he said to quickly defend himself before you bark an accusation at him.

“You fucking snuck behind me in the shadows, Scar—you’re a goddamn trickster if I’ve ever seen one,” You bit back with furrowed brows, your nose scrunched up to emphasise your displeasure.

“Then why’d you come here even when my letter clearly had my name stated on it?” Scar queried, his tone telling you he was planning on nit-picking every mistake you did as Huanglong’s Hero, as the magistrate’s trusted friend, if you kept on fighting back. The question made you settle down a bit, though the your glares didn’t falter.

“I came because I was curious, okay? Maybe you had some information to share or something,” you answered. Naive, you knew. Yet you didn’t exactly care. Scar wasn’t keen on hurting you, he never really was. All he asked from you so far was for you to join the Fracsidus. Though what intrigued you more about him was why he was so awfully attentive of you, so interested.

“What about you? Why’d you lure me here and push me down onto this bed like an animal?” You returned the question, tilting your head to the side at him.

“Well, that’s easy. I want some alone time with you,” Scar answered with ease, his frankness making you suspicious.

“While I don’t mind your little friends, I like having you alone much better,” he added, his smirk never leaving as he gazed down at you with those eyes—those eyes that looked like they wanted to devour you whole every time you met them with your own gaze.

“Now.. let’s get to real reason why I wanted you here,’’ he muttered, his voice awfully lower now. He leaned down to your laid figure further, his body hovering above yours until his hips brushed against yours.

It was almost like you were panicking—and that was unlike you. Rather than clawing at his wrists to make him release you, you squirmed. And those little fidgets of yours earned the sexiest laugh you’ve heard from him, his voice low and slightly raspy below your ear with his warm breath brushing against your jaw. Lords, this deranged man.

“Scar, what are you—’’

“Shh.. let me have my fair share of you, hm?” He whispered right above your skin, his voice no longer as playful as it was before.

Before you could part your lips to repeat his name, a sharp gasp was ripped from you, your entire body jolting slightly at the feeling of his tongue licking along the curve of your earlobe. Your wrists squirmed a bit more, your body shifting beneath his at the slight ticklish feeling you gained from him nipping your ear.

“Not refusing me much anymore, are you?” He muttered once he released the shell on your ear. He moved lower, changing his target to your enticing jaw that kept on moving due to your lips that couldn’t stay shut.

Scar attacked the sensitive skin beneath your chin, making you turn your head the other way. He’s using his tongue way too much—you internally complained, not liking how much he had you panting and flushed from a few nips and kisses alone.

“What? I have a feeling that you have something to say to me, pretty thing,” Scar murmured with a breathy laugh between his sucks and kisses on your skin.

“Go ahead, don’t be shy. Be as vocal you want—I need you to be,” he added, making you hate him for uttering the last few words with such a pleading manner.

You couldn’t speak up much at all at this point, your eyes glazed over with every stinging suck and bite he made on your skin as he trailed lower to your neck, then impatiently heading to your collarbones.

You whimpered softly when you felt him groan against your skin, uttering a curse in such a lewd way that his voice drew out long like a needy moan. The reason for why exactly Scar was getting rougher was because your hips kept on grinding up against him, though you were probably doing it subconsciously due to the ache you had in your slit.

You couldn’t help it, as much as you disliked it. You were grinding onto him like an animal in heat, rolling your hips against his and rubbing your cunt against his knee. If it weren’t for his body weight holding you down, you would have had slid your pussy up and down his thigh rather than just stopping at his knee.

“I’ll be so happy if you cum on me baby, please, do it for me,” Scar uttered out of nowhere, the encouragement making you whine. Your wrists twisted and turned in his grasp above your head with how turned on that little sentence made you.

You wanted to ask him how he knew you were close, but you couldn’t mutter a single word that wasn’t his name at the moment. You could feel that tight knot in lower belly beginning to come undone, and your legs parted further to have more pressure on your clit, feeling your slick juices seeping through your panties beneath your skirt.

“Scar, ‘m gonna..” you warned half-heartedly, not having the energy to focus on warning him for your orgasm when you were focused on chasing your high.

“Mhm, I know sweetheart. Give it to me, sweet girl,” he cooed against your chest, his wet lips leaving your chest to make way to your tits, using his teeth to bite onto the fabric and move it aside to release your breast.

He didn’t hesitate to latch onto your hardened nipple, greedily swirling his tongue around the bud and releasing one of your wrists to cup your other breast, fondling it shamelessly while rubbing the erect nipple between his middle and index finger.

That was all you needed to bring you over the edge, your hips bucking into him in jerky movements with your now free hand clawing onto his back.

With one last moan of his name leaving your lips, your eyes rolled to the back at the intense orgasm you didn’t you could experience, the intensity from it all making you hold onto him with your breaths heavy and your cunt fluttering with each clench you involuntarily made against his now ruined clothed knee.

It was all sticky and wet from your juices, though your blank mind couldn’t care less about it at the moment. And Scar, simply couldn’t care. Not when he had you, the honoured rover, the rover he’d been pining for so long, finally in his arms as mumbling mess—and it was all because of him. He could have swore he was about to cum just from the realisation. But he won’t. He’ll save it for you.

“Now, now, rover. Don’t pass out on me yet. I need you to take responsibility for the mess you made on me clothes,” Scar drawled, pulling away from your swollen nipple with a soft pop before he leaned away just enough to get a good look at you.

Responsibility for his clothes? You would have slapped him by now if it weren’t for the after-glow that you had you in daze at the moment. You flickered your glassy eyes over to him, watching him shift between your legs and climbing onto the mattress fully now. Your eyes widened slightly at the sight that greeted you between his own legs.

“Aw, rover, no staring. That’s rude,” Scar teased, his hands releasing yours as they moved over to his hips, his fingers deftly unbuckling his belt and pulling it off him completely for him to toss aside carelessly.

You couldn’t but stare at him, not having much shame left in you now to look away. Your eyes followed his every move, watching him undo the zip and button to his pants before lowering down to his thighs to reveal his hard cock that impatiently sprung free.

“Mmh.. look how hard you made me, rover. I can’t help myself when you moans are so pretty right beside my ear,” He muttered, his hand wrapping around his length to give it a few pumps, his shaft slick with precum.

“Don’t salivate for me, baby, you’ll make me shy,” he mused, his voice evidently breathier than usual from the feeling of his own hand stroking his cock—though it mostly because he was so tempted on jerking off to the state you were in right now.

[wrtingsoftheunknown]

Vincent Sinclair HC

Vincent Sinclair hc SFW and NSFW

I’ve haven’t  been seeing my boy get repped recently so I have to do it myself. My first time writing something on here or towards this character ,I promise I will get better y'al,l I made this super quickly not proofread oops.

SFW

-While he can be insecure about his face he definitely has an ego from being the favorite child and having perfected his craft.

Lester drags him out to go for a ride around town or force him to come to his place for some quality brother time (Bo joins every now and then but wants peace and quiet dammit )

‘I know a lot of people have him learn sign language but I think he either writes what he wants to say, speaks as best as he can, or gestures, ( he was born in the south to parents that I don't think cared about communicating with him too much but he could have picked it up later in life maybe in his teen years or middle school era)

More sadistic than Bo when it comes to killing, he doesn't care if they are dead or alive when working on them and takes satisfaction in the result of his work

He prefers to work in silence but you can catch him humming now and then some country song or a guilty pleasure pop song from the 80’s( I see you Vince)

I think he partakes in multiple forms of art besides wax work.We see he’s able to paint, draw, but he also  takes pictures, , sews, writes, makes videos, anything artistic he’s learning and keeping up with new techniques.

Since he takes video of the killings at times I think they sell them as snuff films to make extra cash on top of stealing and selling victims stuff. (At least that’s what I thought when I first watched the film anyone else or just me)

Rarely happens but will keep victims that interest him like Bo ,but dispose of them when they get boring  or no longer match up the ideal version of them in his head.

-Does want a lifelong partner, the white wedding and picket fence, kids,  but knows it might be difficult with the line of work he does.

- He can talk but only does when it’s important or to emphasize something. He does have a southern draw like Bo and I imagine his voice to sound similar but raspier, maybe deeper/ quieter from not using it as much.

-like I said earlier you have to really catch his attention and be able to hold it for more than a week, if that happens then he’s obsessed and protective maybe a little too over protective.

Does indeed have a hair care routine I believe this full throttle and no one can can tell me otherwise I'm not listening.

NSFW

I don't know if he’s a virgin, I don't think he is something is telling me he isn't, but i’m not sure

He has no problem with nudity, bodies are seen as art, there's not as much of a sexual connotation with them as with Bo and Lester .

He wants to be in love with the person he is intimate with, he wants to be worship and worship his muse.

Drawings  of his partner naked as well as in the midst of a passionate night, he might tease them all night to make sure the sketch is as life like and accurate as possible

Good size and thick that's all I gotta say

Praise kink hard core, hearing his partner call him a good boy or how he makes them feel so good he will crumble

He starts slow and sensual, enjoys the control he has and having someone at his power.

I think he will edge you and leave you high and dry when you act out but he always caves by the end of the day and gives you what you need.

Can last a long time surprisingly

Mainly a giver but someone please for the love of god give this man the nastiest had he’s ever received will make the prettiest noises 

Is down to try anything new and more open about sex than you would think.

When he’s horny he comes up behind his partner and starts caressing every inch he can reach, while resting his chin on their shoulder acting as innocent as he can.

[lunaroserites]

Art and Ice - New Perceptions

Pairing: Eventual Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader

Characters: Natasha, Wanda, Pietro, Loki, Bucky, Sam Wilson, Clint Barton, a lot of the avengers cast is mentioned.

Summery: This kinda a filler chapter, some cute fluffy moments between Bucky and Doodle happen.

This might a 2 or 3 parter (it's gonna be more because cannot help myself). College AU, our boy Bucky is on the hockey team, and reader is an art major (because I love that trope and couldn't help myself)

Warnings: Not beta'd! All mistakes are my own. Friends fluff, swearing, mentions of college students being college students. Bit of friendly harmless flirting between friends. Bucky is a playboy. Flirting. Mentions of not eating or drinking for a hours (ADHD Brain)

Word Court: 3539

Likes, reblogs, and comments are appreciated! ❤️

Please do not repost, translate or otherwise copy my work elsewhere, without my express permission, thank you! Lunaroserites on tumblr and ao3

Catch up here: Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5

It wasn’t a surprise that your college finished out the regular season on top. Your college was known across the country for its sports programs. 

It didn’t surprise you when Bucky showed up with a bright cocky smile the day after the last away game. “Ooooh Doodle!” He said in a sing-song voice. 

You looked over your shoulder setting the paint brush down, raising an eyebrow at him, “yeeees Bucky?” You matched his tone perfectly. With all the away games you haven’t seen him since the weekend, you have made some decent progress on the painting of him. You were giddy to show him what you completed in his absence. 

“Guess who scored a date with Mandy, the head cheerleader?” He was beaming. Your heart sank momentarily, your facial expression dropping slightly before you composed yourself and gave him your best dazzling smile. 

“I’m not sure Buck, I’ve always been terrible at guessing games,” you murmured, trying to hide the discontent in your voice as you looked back at the canvas to compose yourself. He didn’t seem to pick up on your change in mood. 

“Ah come on Doodle, I’ll give you a hint. He’s charming, on the hockey team and incredibly sexy,” he sounded so cock sure. 

You turned to face him and tapped the end of the brush on your lip, feigning that you were deep in thought and then a bright smile split across your face. 

“Oh! I know who it is,” you said excitedly. “Sam!” You faked enthusiasm before turning back to the painting but not before catching his face drop for a moment. 

“Pfft, he’s about as charming as an out of tune piano,” Bucky deflected. “Come on Doodle, it’s easy.” 

“They’re easy huh?” You mused. “So must be you then,” you said flatly without missing a beat. He laughed awkwardly behind you. 

“Uh, yeah it’s me,” his cocksure attitude was gone and he sounded a little deflated. 

“That’s nice Buck, have fun,” you said quietly. 

“It’s not until tomorrow night,” he said, “I wanted to come hang out with you tonight,” your heart clenched and you bit your knuckle to stop the pang of hurt that threatened to crush you, you didn’t trust your voice at the moment so you just nodded. 

“How much of the painting have you done?” He asked quickly, changing the topic. You were grateful. “Last time I saw it you just had some base colours on.” 

You had the puck almost done, you were painting as if the puck was being shot at the person viewing it. Slightly different from your original idea, but you liked how it was turning out. Bucky was now standing next to you and you could smell the deep woody and amber tones of his cologne. He always smelled good, even after playing a game or practice. It was something you appreciated about him, Thor would smell like a locker room after practice. It was awful. 

You quickly focused back on the canvas and not how much you wanted to stick your nose into the crook of Bucky’s throat and inhale the heady scent he wore. This little crush was getting out of hand, you needed to squash it quickly. 

“That looks amazing, Doodle,” Bucky said in awe as he looked at the painting. “How do you make it seem so real?” 

“Practice, and a little luck,” you said with a shrug. Bucky moved out of the way when you picked the brush up and started to work on it again. “The inspiration was also a big help,” you looked over your shoulder at him and winked. He gave you a dazzling smile back. “What are you doing today?” He had pulled some books and notes out on the table and was staring down at them. 

“I’m studying for my astronomy final,” he said, his tongue caught between his teeth. His arm crossed over his chest and the other hand held his chin as he looked down at his notes. 

“Mind if I put some music on?” He hummed and you clicked the play button and let the music wash over you. You got to work, getting lost in the music and the brush strokes. 

The soft notes of Work Song by Hozier played soothingly over the speaker and you hummed softly along to the song and swayed gently back and forth. You jumped when you felt Bucky’s hand cup your shoulder and slide down your arm clasping your hand in his. 

“Can’t have a pretty thing like you dancing by herself,” he said softly. He pulled you to him and started to sway you two gently to the beat. Your heart was racing a million miles a minute, your cheeks were a bright shade of red as you hid your face against his firm chest. 

He moved you two effortlessly, he guided you in a small sway. He was smiling down at the top of your head as you leaned your cheek to his chest. His hand held the small of your back gently to him. 

You couldn’t believe this was happening, he was dancing with you randomly. It was completely out of the blue, but you couldn’t bring yourself to complain. He was firm and warm under your touch. He held like you were as fragile as blown glass, his touch feather light and respectful. You usually hated dancing but something about this moment felt right. 

As the song came to close and Bucky took a step back from you, you started to miss the contact as quickly as you lost it. He was smiling down at you and kissed you knuckles of the hand he had been holding at the time. “Thank you for the dance m’lady,” he tipped his chin and gave you a devilish smile. You couldn’t find words to express who you felt at the moment. 

“Thank you kind sir,” you stuttered back. He laughed his beautiful rich as chocolate laugh and made his way back to his studying and you went back to your painting feeling lighter than before. The pit in your stomach growing deeper, you could still feel his warm hand on your waist and the way he held you so carefully.

“Loki I don’t know what I’m going to do,” you whined as you draped over his lap dramatically. You had texted him “code red” before you left the art studio, Bucky had offered to drop you off at your apartment but you declined like you usually did. Code red meaning ‘I need you please come get me.’ Which he did without hesitation. 

“Darling you’re being a little dramatic,” he ran his fingers through your hair trying to sooth your nerves. 

“Loki, I’m not being dramatic. We had this whole conversation about just being friends and spending time together without him waiting to get me in bed,” you exclaimed. 

“Which he probably still does,” Loki added, you glared at him. 

“Not the point, how can that conversation mean anything if I can’t even hold myself to it,” you said in an exasperated tone. “Loki, he danced with me, out of the blue. Just took my hand and danced with me,” you peaked up at Loki who was running his long fingers through your hair, he had an unreadable expression. “Who does that nowadays, it’s something my grandpa would do with nana.” 

“Little brother,” Hela’s sing-song voice called as she poked her head into the room. “Oh hello sweetling! I didn’t know you were visiting,” she smiled at you. You had always liked Helena, she was always nice to you. She gave Loki and Thor shit when we were teens and they were acting like typical teenage boys, insensitive and immature. She looked you over, draped over Loki’s lap, your arm thrown over your eyes. You looked miserable, she entered the room further and sat down on the edge of Loki’s bed and gently touched your shoulder. 

“What’s the matter sweetling,” she asked soothingly. 

“Nothing Hela, stupid feelings and a crush a stupid boy,” you whined. She laughed at that. 

“Men tend to be like that, this is why I like women,” she chuckled. “Seriously sweetling, it can’t be that bad, who is it?” She asked softly. Her eyes drifted to Loki for a moment and he made a face. 

“Bucky Barnes,” you groaned. Hela’s eyes widened and she groaned. 

“You’re telling me you’re upset over that overgrown toddler on skates?” She asked with a raised eyebrow, you looked at her, god she was so pretty. You nodded and sighed heavily. 

“I know, I know. He’s just so.... Ugh.” Loki chuckled and Hela glared at him. She grabbed your hand and rubbed her thumb over your knuckles soothingly. 

“You know a couple years back he tried asking me out. I rejected him. He called me a stuck up bitch,” she said, you raised your arm off your eyes and looked at her. “He wouldn’t even let me tell him I had no interest in men, especially younger men.” You nodded and that was what Loki meant when he was rude to Hela. “He later saw me with Val on a date. He felt like an idiot and apologised for how he acted.” 

“He did?” Loki asked, he sounded surprised. Hela nodded. 

“He learned his lesson. Learned a few things too. From my understanding he’s not as pushy as he used to be,” Hela added. “Shame what happened with his girlfriend and her sudden departure to Alaska. He was apparently a lot different when she was here. She broke his heart. It doesn’t excuse his behaviour but it definitely gives perspective.” 

“You know Nat mentioned that he had a long term relationship that suddenly ended,” you said back, thinking back. 

“Val knew her better than I ever did, she apparently just packed up and left. No explanation, not warning. She was just gone. Barnes was devastated,” Hela said thoughtfully. 

“Huh, well that definitely adds perspective,” you agreed. 

“It doesn’t excuse his behaviour though,” Loki reiterated. You and Hela nodded in agreement. 

“What should I do?” You asked Loki after Hela left. He sighed and looked down at you, eyes swimming with uncertainty. 

“I’m not sure darling, if you told him what do you think would happen?” Loki asked softly. 

“He would probably pick up on trying to sleep with me again,” you groaned. 

You ended up spending the night at Loki’s house with him, falling asleep on his bed. 

“You know, it's a good thing you don’t share a bed with anyone,” Loki shoved you away from the centre of the bed. “You’re a fucking bed hog,” you couldn’t help but laugh at his groggy disgruntled voice. 

“Apologies Loki,” you laughed as he huffed. 

“Bull shit,” he exclaimed while standing up and going into his ensuite bathroom. You stood and leaned against the door frame while Loki pulled a brush through his hair and did his skin care routine. “Do you want me to bring you home so you can change and stuff? 

“I would appreciate it,” you smiled at him. 

“Morning Wands,” you called as you came through the front door, Loki right behind you, he grabbed your coat and hung it up as you pulled it off. 

“In here,” she called out as the toaster popped. You and Loki walked into the kitchen together. “Morning Loki,” she gave him a dazzling smile, which he returned. 

“I’m making cinnamon toast and eggs, hungry?” She asked. 

“I’d love some, I’m going to grab a quick shower and change.” 

“Princessa!” Peitro wrapped you in a hug tightly as he walked behind you and snagged a piece of toast off your plate. 

“Get your own,” you batted his hand away. 

“But I want yours,” he teased. You heard Wanda and Loki chuckle at you both. 

“I have a plate for you too, stop stealing hers,” Wanda ushered him over. 

“What plans do you have today?” Wanda asked as she sat down next to you. You looked to Loki, it was his turn to plan the Saturday plans. 

“The new book I’ve been waiting on is finally here so we have to stop by the bookstore in town,” Loki said, “then I think we’ll drive up the coast, we need pictures for our photography class.” You smiled at him, so thoughtful. “Then maybe some dinner and a stroll through the park,” he finished. 

“God Loki you’re making me look like a terrible boyfriend,” Pietro whined, you snorted into your juice and leaned back laughing loudly. 

“Maybe you should take notes,” Loki teased. You and Wanda were laughing together. Loki was an incredibly thoughtful friend. That’s why you adored him so much. But that’s where it ended. You two were the best of friends and that was where the line was drawn  and there was never a need to cross it. It took time for people to understand your friendship and the boundaries you two had in place. 

“Sounds like a fun day,” Wanda said thoughtfully. 

“What about you Wands? Vis is still abroad isn’t he?” She nodded at your question. 

“I’m going to practise with Pietro, it’s a nice day to be out in the sun,” she answered. “Vis gets back next week.” 

“I had fun today,” you said softly as you and Loki walked through the park after having supper at a sweet little Mexican restaurant. Loki had his hand on the small of your back guiding you and keeping you close. 

“I did too,” he hummed. You two walked around a little more, taking a seat on a bench to watch the setting sun. You looked out over the green space and saw some couples sitting in the grass relaxing. One couple caught your attention. 

“Is that bucky?” You said quietly, tipping your head in his direction. Loki squinted and nodded. 

Bucky was sitting a little ways away leaning back on his hands. Mandy sat next to him completely ignoring him. Something twisted in your heart as you looked at him looking up at the sky and she was scrolling her phone. Loki rubbed your shoulder soothingly. Drawn back to him you gave Loki a sad smile. 

“She probably just wants to sleep with him,” Loki whispered. You nodded in agreement. 

“He likes space a lot. He’s talking to her and she is not even pretending to listen,” it broke your heart. Soon his date leaned over and they got up from their spot. He trailed behind her as they waltzed across the green space toward Bucky’s truck. You watched him follow after her like some love sick puppy. 

But then for a brief moment his eyes connected with yours. His eyes narrowed in on you and he paused for the briefest moment as he looked at you across the field. You couldn’t place the look in his eyes, but it was something akin to longing, maybe you couldn’t be sure. As soon as it started it ended and Bucky was gone with Mandy into his truck. 

“Darling,” Loki’s smooth voice filled your ears and you looked at him. “You okay?” You nodded and sighed. 

“I think so,” you mumbled while shaking your head to clear it. 

You didn’t see much of Bucky over the next few days, practice and studying seemed to completely take over his days. He would text you little updates, ask how your day was going, remind you to drink and eat snacks. Your phone going off startled you out of the trance you were in. 

It was a FaceTime request from Bucky. You slide the answer button and gaze at him with a quizzical look. “Hello,” you chuckled, propping the phone on the easel. 

“Hey doodle,” his hair was wet and he was shirtless, you tried to not look at his shoulders. “Miss me?” He wiggled his eyebrows at you. 

“Like a toothache Bucky,” you mused. Your shirt rode up as you stretched your arm to reach up on the canvas. Your phone left you a perfect anglee for Bucky’s eyes to follow the now revealed skin. You didn’t catch him licking his lips at you. 

“I’m hurt doodle,” he feigned hurt and clutched his hand over his heart being dramatic which made you laugh. There was a sudden knock on the art studio door, you looked over your shoulder and then back at the phone. Bucky was trying really hard to not look suspicious. 

“What did you do?” You asked as you grabbed the phone and opened the door, you looked down and he shrugged. Opening the door you were greeted by a delivery driver. You raised an eyebrow and squinted at him. 

“Delivery for Doodle?” The driver said, he looked completely over the day and didn’t bat an eye at the nickname. 

“I didn’t order,” you looked down at your phone and were met with Bucky’s shit eating grin. “You cheeky bastard,” you accused him. “Thank you,” you took the food and sat down at the table in the art room. 

“Thanks Bucky,” you were touched. He had ordered your favourite, everything completely how you liked it. You had only ever ordered this once in his presence, weeks ago. He remembered. “You even remember the extra sauce,” you could feel tears well up in your eyes from how sweet of a gesture it was. You quickly rubbed the tears away and smiled at him. 

Everyone in your life had been so busy you barely spoke to them, Bucky had been the most consistent person by far. You didn’t blame the others, you had barely kept in touch being swapped with final projects and finals. Everyone was just busy. The fact he took the time to send you food, made your heart soar. 

“I figured we could eat together,” Bucky said as he sat up and positioned the phone so his hands were free and you could see his full torso and face. You almost choked on air seeing him. He was fucking hot, you stoped the that train of thought immediately and looked at his face and not his peaks or squishy tummy. He was a big dude, firm but soft looking. You wanted to run your fingers over his torso. 

“I’d like that,” you were impressed with how composed you sounded in that moment. 

“How’s the projects going?” He asked. You shrugged and sighed. 

“They're going. I’m almost done with three of them and I finished the last one this afternoon,” he nodded. Silence fell over you two again but it wasn’t uncomfortable. That was something you noticed shortly after his visits to art studios became more frequent, silence with him was comfortable and you never felt the innate urge to fill it. “How’s studying?” 

“Good, the practicals will be easy. I hate written exams,” Bucky was a kinesiology major, doing astrology classes for electives. What surprised you early on was that he was actually doing well in classes. It made you question those Reddit comments you read saying he cared little for academics. He wasn’t a valedictorian or anything but he was passing with 3.1 GPA overall. You weren’t surprised when he mentioned he wasn't interested in the arts, and that he only did the two mandatory English classes. 

“You got this,” you said to him with a smile. 

“So do you,” he gave you a dazzling smile back. “I'm sorry I haven’t been coming to visit,” he said quietly. 

“It’s okay, we’re all busy right now. I haven’t seen Nat in 4 days, she was hauled up in the dance studio getting ready for her practicals and the final performance,” you shrugged, the performance arts program did a big show at the end of exams the whole campus was invited to purchase tickets for. The funds raised went toward funding future projects. You had your ticket, and an extra because Loki had bought his and forgot to tell you. 

“She hasn’t been at practice either, Barton has been insufferable,” Bucky said with a mock exasperated sigh. 

“I’m not surprised,” you chuckled and smiled at Bucky, he admired the way the corner of your eyes crinkle when you smile like that. 

“You’re still coming Friday?” Bucky asked. 

“Of course,” you nodded. “Actually I have a question to ask you,” he looked at you attentively and waited. “I have an extra ticket to the performing arts final show after exams, did you want to come with me?” You didn’t build your hopes so high that he would say yes. “If you don…”

“Yeah, love too Doodle,” he cut you off. Your face lights up with a bright smile. 

“Awesome,” you cheered excitedly, you wouldn’t soon forget the beautiful smile that graced his face, you both looked into each other for a moment, smiles morning one another. You didn’t want to look away from him, his eyes snapped from yours at the sound of a crash from another room and some yelling. 

“Dammit Scott,” Bucky groaned and looked at you apologetically. “Gotta go Doodle, I’m going to try and swing by the art room tomorrow.” 

“Bye Bucky,” you waved at him as he waved the call ended. You saT back in the chair for a moment before giving up for the night and packing up to go home.

AN: Thank you all so much for reading! I've have been really enjoying writing this series!

Taglist: @vicmc624, @calwitch, @learisa, @aaqua-tofana, @charmedbysarge, @blackbirdwitch22

Feel free to send me a message if you have a request or would like more, or would like to be added to the tag list!

[bonefall]

You knowww, every now and then I come across someone else's AU project and I see a little sentiment somewhere on the blog that they fear... not being creative enough, or borrowing too many ideas from me in particular, or something similar.

And then, in another post, they'll also be worrying that changing one element or another will spoil things, or that leaning into one character or concept being too bad will come across as "bashing" it, or for some reason they'll end up breaking things if they alter something

To both of those things I gotta say... break shit! Fuck it up! Destroy something and then have fun putting it back together! "How do I go forth and make a conlanguage?" Just do it! "What if it looks like I'm bashing Bramblestar?" If you end up bashing him, you can just put him back together in a way you like more later. "I have this cool idea but how do I make it work?" Figure that out later, commit to the cool idea now and write what makes you HAPPY!

The worst art is art you don't make.

This blog. I made it in the first place because I always wanted people to be able to come here, pick up an idea or inspiration, and go forth with it. It's why Clanmew's free to use and I made that clear with Trout when we first started. I had always made Better Bones, and the Bonefall Rewrite before it, with the idea in mind that I was a helmsman but I was writing it with the contributions, wishes, and musings of followers in mind. Collaboration at its core.

It wasn't all perfect to begin with. I've changed things-- I started BB!DOTC with Gray Wing surviving, and now he is the first pioneer death. It was a major change and I'm STILL altering old posts, but I promise! It's not that big a deal! You CAN just go back and fix stuff! Don't be so afraid!

YOU are you only person who can make YOUR art. You are the most unique tool in your own arsenal, with your unique tastes, interests, and thoughts. That is what makes every AU unique, given love and time. Trust your intuition, be critical but kind towards your work, and remember that passion is always worth the initial price of fear.

[solar-serpent]

PAC: how do you inspire your soulmate/FS?

In their heart, you’re their muse and bewitcher. When the voice quivers and words fail to express how much they admire you, the truth will always find your way.

Pile 1

Justice, Ten of Swords, The Emperor, Two of Cups, Six of pentacles

They like when you get all serious and grumpy after you’ve made your decision—to go to battle💀. Ha! JK, or not? You have an iron will and are a natural protector. No matter if you act cowardly at times as when it comes to protect your loved ones, you will turn fierce and basically into a mama bear ready to claw some baddies’s eyes out. Too early for a +18 mention? Maybe not 😏. Your aggressiveness turns this person on. They like this wild part of you and you releasing the control you hold so dearly (might not apply to everyone, but some of you definitely are huge control freaks). They also admire the fact you get your priorities and morals straight, and you can stick to your choices ‘till the end. You’re stubborn and they respect that. It’s appealing to them that someone as small and cute as you (in comparison to them or that’s how they view you like “their little one”) could fight thugs and manage problems they themselves would be afraid of. “How do you do it?”, I heard. You aim for doing everything on your own and refuse the help offered by those worried of you, which would ultimately lead you to sickness and feeling burn out. Your person appreciates greatly your independency and they would let you do anything you want, but they still worry a lot about you. You and this person are quite similar in character, so they have no right to chastise you for your excessiveness. They’re proud of you and you inspire them to keep going forward. By any chance did you thought of your soulmate when you picked this pile? You’re definitely going to marry your other half, darling. Congrats!

Hello💞 if you liked this reading and wish for a customized one, you can check my list of services here and my lastest offers here.

Pila 2

The high priestess, seven of wands, two of pentacles, ace of swords, nine of wands

You have a dark feminine energy. Whether you’re female or male, you have this sultry and mysterious aura around you. You’re like a chameleon; ever changing and you can show people what you want them to see. You’re in charge here, wow. You remind your person of a female fatale, and they love it. When I said “ever changing”, I didn’t mean you had mood swings nor you’re volatile in nature. You’re smart and reflexive and you have many opinions, even views on one topic that are contradictory to each other. You always have something to say, but I’m under the impression you usually don’t speak more than necessary. You rather surprise people with an interesting comeback or sharp remark. You like to feed the mysterious reputation you have. If people say you’re a vampire, then you will put on an act for them with the goth clothes and dark makeup. You’re a show men or woman. Not like Leo or the rest of fire signs that are high key. You seek to entertain yourself, but you end up entertaining the one who is paying close attention to you—your lover. You’re their dark muse, a naughty one. You might start the tradition of inciting the other so an argument can break out. You two could play-fight and mock each other, until someone gets actually mad and you shut their mouth with a deep kiss. Your person loves heating arguments as they usually lead to a fiercer match in the sheets. However, what they admire the most about you is that anyone can talk to you about anything. You’ve been through a lot, dear, and that turned you into an empath and good listener. You don’t have to tell them anything as they know of your suffering, it certainly shows in your energy. You give them courage to talk about their nightmares and the most weird and random stuff. They would speak to you about camping stories as they probably were a scout and/or those experiences are both the best and worst they went through.

Hello💞 if you liked this reading and wish for a customized one, you can check my list of services here and my lastest offers here.

Pila 3

Four of pentacles, queen of cups, six of swords, nine of pentacles, the fool

Out of the three piles, you have the most feminine energy. For both female and males, your aura is luminous and pure. Your energy feels refreshing and… natural? You could remind your person of the water drops on the leaves after the rain has passed, the smell of petrichor, and the pleasant sound of a near stream. If you’ve played closed attention, I wrote about 3 out of the 5 human’s senses. Your person can’t ignore your presence when you’re around. “You´re too cute and have the charm of a child”, I heard. They mean you’re just like a maiden or little boy—innocent, carefree, and loving. They might not think you’re otherworldly, quite the opposite. You’re the definition of what human should be in their opinion. You set an example for those whose minds have been consumed by social media, capitalism, and wars. You’re incredible, thus a rare sight. I got a glimpse of someone smiling wide and proudly. They find themselves lucky to be your friend. Whether you picked this pile thinking of a soulmate or future spouse, you’re definitely starting off as just friends. It’s weird, I think your person might get obsessed with you but not in a romantic sense? Not at first. They could be an activist or fighter for human rights and they would idealize you for who you are, a conscious being. I’m hearing the following message, “thank God I’ve found you! I’m not crazy! I met a person that’s just like me”. It’s like they’re oblivious to the way they act around you, and you entering their life would put their world upside-down. They will treasure you and adore you and admire you immensely, the list of his favorite traits of yours is too long for this reading. However, they can't put a name to what you are to them. A friend? Nah, you make them go insane and they don’t want to share you with anyone. I feel a strong sense of protectiveness, possessiveness, and jealously. Oh boy, this person might make you wait around for a bit, but right after they realized they actually loved you; they might pounce on you. They might even scare you! I heard, “I want to drink in your essence”. This person who at first was a loving and seemly asexual friend to you would turn into a famish lion with an insane sex drive.

Hello💞 if you liked this reading and wish for a customized one, you can check my list of services here and my lastest offers here.

[a-libra-writes]

so glad you're accepting some requests! i've loved your work for so long now. pls feel free to ignore if this doesn't strike your muse, i'll read basically anything you write.

i must ask for my fav ASOIAF boys: Stannis, Roose, Jorah, Jaime, and Sandor (you can pick and choose between this list, im definitely not expecting ALL of them 😭)

my prompt is awkward/untimely moments when they confess their love for the reader OR moments that make them soft for their lover (again, you can pick which interests you more....)

SORRY IF THIS IS A LOT, please feel free to pick and choose what you wanna do, if you wanna do any of them at all! thank you and have a nice night!

oh thank you!! Im glad you enjoy my silly blog so much. I thought the "moments that make them soft" was just super cute and made me think a lot, so I picked that one. Your chosen characters are at the front, and I added a few more for my own self indulgence

No warnings, Reader is implied to be married in most. Also, Roose is Roose.

Stannis - There are many things Stannis gets sentimental for, not that he could think of them on the spot. It's all things that happen in the moment.

When he's at a social function with you and someone's infuriating him, it grounds him when you gently touch his hand. You might say you aren't feeling well, and of course it's a husband's duty to take you away from the crowd and make sure you're alright... then he realizes you just feigned feeling faint for his sake. 

Another time is when you defend him, especially against the criticisms of other lords. He can handle himself, and he always has, but there's something different about you coldly (and politely) telling them off. The harsher your words, the better.

Gentle touches on his jaw when he grinds his teeth, a touch on the shoulder when he's totally absorbed in something and isn't hearing your call, and wanting to take his arm when you both have to appear before the public. While he's averse to most touching, the fact you're considerate of that instead of criticizing means a lot.

Also, appreciating his attempts to please you, and saying so! Appreciation is not something Stannis gets a lot of, even when his best is put forth. Bringing up something sweet he did a while back will actually get a blush and grumble out of him. 

And while it may not seem like a lot, generally just supporting him in court politics means more than he can say. You aren't just performing an expected wifely loyalty, you genuinely want the best for him and House Baratheon. Being on the same page and working in tandem brings such emotions - relief, gratitude, affection - it can be difficult for Stannis to express with words or actions, but he's absolutely soft for it.

Roose - This can be tricky for his partner to discern unless they're paying close attention or it's been a long time in the relationship. Roose does not wear his emotions, positive or negative, openly. The most obvious emotion one might see is pleased contempt for someone he's just intimidated or screwed over.

Any softness would first come from his wife willingly touching him, usually when she's doing something simple. Adjusting his cloak when it's a little askew, taking his arm when visiting other lords, touching his hand during a meal when you're trying to make a point. He's told himself he doesn't care what your feelings are, he just needs a wife to secure an alliance and an heir, but ... well, it is easier if you're fond of him ... 

He's such a suspicious and careful person that overt affection may be seen as an act, so it's little things where you forget yourself that he thinks of most. When you lean into him as you both speak, or gasp in spite of yourself when he grasps you. The satisfaction of making you "forget" yourself is stronger than if you're doting at the start. 

Sometimes, if Roose catches you being affectionate with any children you both share, he'll watch for a few moments. Again, he tells himself it's simply that he "won" over you and that's the only reason he's so pleased.

Jorah - Tbh it's easier to list what doesn't make him soft for you

The biggest one is when you're fussing over him! Jorah is always the one who puts your needs before his own, so you insisting on caring for him and spoiling him a bit just gets him weak in the knees. It's hard to say what he likes best, but making his favorite meal followed by tons of affection is enough to wash away any fatigue.

Showing him off and being obviously proud of being his partner is another thing that gets him fluttery. He already gazes at you adoringly on a regular basis, but now he looks like you hang the moon when you take his arm and happily introduce him as your's.

And, he can't help but melt when you're sweet with kids. Wether you're helping a little one up after they fall or teaching how to do something, he just has to watch from a distance. Yes, he'd want children if you wished for them, but it's moreso he appreciates the compassion you show those smaller and weaker than you. It's sweet how children seem to rely on and cling to you, knowing you're someone safe - and obvs, if these were children you had or adopted together, it made him even more sentimental and emotional.  

Jaime -First, it's tough to know when Jaime is having feelings because most of the time, he's hiding it. If he's caught gazing fondly at you, he'll brush it off with sarcasm.

The easiest way for him to catch feels is just you being honest with your intentions and feelings. When you tell him how much you adore him, or you appreciate something he did - especially after you both were intimate and you're cuddled up, and you just state how you feel with no manipulations or strings attached, it does something to him. He doesn't respond at first, just quietly contemplating your words long after you've fallen asleep.

Another time is when you see through his arrogance and bravado. When Jaime's trying to assure you he's fine and he's dealt with it, and he isn't bothered by what happened at all actually, and you just quietly listen. That bravado wavers just so, and it just takes a few well-placed questions before he finally just caves and tells you what's actually going on (how do you and Tyrion do that so well?). The fact you listen and don't judge or admonish him is something that occurs to him much later. He can go to you with a problem, and that's a rare vulnerability for the disgraced knight.

Sandor - He is far more affected by you than he wants to admit to himself, especially at the beginning, but after being years of being together, anyone with eyes could see it.

First of all, you're so damn gentle. You always talked to him with a kindness and politeness he wasn't used to, and while he initially brushed it off, the annoying thing is you were genuine. You'll even touch carefully or be considerate of things that may upset him, like he needs to be protected, the huge "knight" that everyone is terrified of. It completely affects Sandor and for a long time he didn't know what to do with himself. Now he just quietly accepts it, allowing himself to be vulnerable and cared for instead of immediately crushing those feelings.

On the same lines, it used to trouble Sandor how you'd hold him so tight. It didn't matter if it was after sex or just an embrace out of nowhere (the latter is a bit more startling), and it almost sent him into a fight-or-flight response the first few times you did it. He's far more comfortable with it than before, but now embraces tend to send him into something of a "reset". Any anger or darkness that was clouding him will fade just slightly, and he'll lean into you and let his guard down.

Brandon - Though he carries plenty of bravado and confidence, it's pretty easy for others to tell when he's being soft on you, especially his family members. The easiest way to get him feeling fluttery is to rely on him. Yes, even if you're clearly teasing or messing with him, you like to have him carry you over water or lift you up on your horse or "protect" you while you both go on a walk in the late hours. It's like he's a boy with a crush again, and he likes to show off his strength.

There's also the simple things that get him every time, like when you take his hand and entwine your fingers out of nowhere. You won't say anything, you'll just do it, and when you kiss his hand and knuckles it gets the big man oddly flustered.

Asha - While she's certainly felt all sorts of soft around you, it's not immediately obvious. As much as she loves you, she doesn't go on about grand gestures or proclamations. It's just not her style. So when you do something just so damn cute and charming - like rambling on about something you love or ranting about someone who pissed you off - she just smiles.

An outsider might think she's just amused, but those in the know have never seen such an expression of adoration on her. When you finish your tirade, she just teases you with a kiss and a pull of the cheek. You ought to stop being so damn cute. Another thing she likes is when you're frank with her. When you honestly tell her how much you love her, or how happy you are - even if she didn't have doubts, it's nice to hear it.

Victarion - First, he doesn't think he's capable of such "weak" feelings and vulnerability. If anyone brought it up, they'd be punched. If his family brings it up, he grumbles and scowls. If you do, he just frowns and turns away. It's not expected of an Ironborn, so obviously he doesn't have any softness toward you. None.

Not even when you've managed to get him in your arms and have him rest on your chest - not an easy feat, this is always after sex and usually when he's drunk - and he can feel your skin and heartbeat. You touch his rough, tangled hair, and his scarred face, and his even more scarred back, and the huge man is like putty. He's heavy, sure, but it feels warm and safe. Later when he's awake and sober and going about whatever he does during the day, he'll think back on that embrace, and odd feelings he can't describe just pick at him.

A smaller thing is when you approve of something he does, regardless if it's an action or words. Even just glancing at him and nodding - even if subtle, he notices. It's like a thrill going through him and Victarion wonders why for a solid minute. Maybe he should do that thing more, or say those words again? Why does he care about your reaction anyway, and why does he want it again? It's even worse when you leave without explaining what exactly it was that pleased you. Asha says he'll figure it out eventually.

[bscully]

Why Zagreus is such a good character

*Obligatory Hades spoiler ahead* Zagreus is so so so interesting from a meta perspective. While his design certainly went into the "attractive bad boy" direction, he is not your usual hyper-masculine protagonist.

Definitely not!

It starts off with his physique, which is not that of a tall, beefy body builder, but more of an ancient greek athlete. He is also shorter than most other Gods, of average size by mortal standards, and doesn’t take kindly to people making fun of his height. I find that a fascinating character design choice to make. From there, let's continue with his character.

His temperament is sanguine; he is a ray of sunshine and loves to share all the warmth that rests in his heart. Which is a fascinating trait to have as Prince of the Underworld, who is veiled in Darkness by Mother Night, Nyx, herself. The following Berserk quote comes to mind: "He who bears light exists in the deepest shadow".

(There is a big conceptual overlap between Hades and Berserk, but I’ll just leave it at that for this post)

Zagreus is a sociable, extroverted type who values family and bonds over everything, is respectful, polite, charming. From someone like him, genuine kindness and honesty are a guarantee. Together with his capacity to empathize, it allows him to form meaningful relationships. His noble spirit and attitude are befitting of a prince. He does not mind stepping out of his comfort zone and challenge himself, either.

When you first beat Hades, he asks Zagreus to tell Persephone that Cerberus is doing well. Zagreus instead demanded an answer for a question in exchange of telling her. However, this question was left unanswered as Hades was taken by the Styx before he could reply. Later on, because Zagreus is a good-natured person and knows his priorities, picking his mother’s needs over the grudge he could hold against his father, he tells Persephone anyways.

There are moments in the game where he is sensitive, observant and catches up on social cues very quickly. He listens to others and apologizes to them when he feels like he may have overstepped a boundary, such was the case when Thanatos berated him for allowing Orpheus visiting his muse Eurodyce and meddled into their affairs without their consent.

Sometimes he appears to have troubles expressing what he feels, or is perhaps insecure or anxious to express it (particularly when interacting with Meg, who is rather intimidating). But despite his hesitations and fears I think he is still doing a good job at it.

Judging from a brief conversation with Alecto, he appears to know how to form healthy habits and deal with difficult situations in a productive, nurturing manner (the fact that 1. Alecto doesn’t take kindly to his attempts at getting along and 2. Zag doesn’t like her for it, is kinda funny to me). He is capable to mediate and settle conflicts between people, this is literally one of the game's primary goals.

Judging by what happened between him and Megaera, it appears he also wasn't always this mature and went a long way learning from his mistakes. His sometimes boastful confidence and his running mouth probably were one of them. Regardless, I'm deeply impressed with Zagreus' emotional intelligence and maturity.

Considering how so many other protagonists typically are characterized, this such an unusual way to write a male one, and as such he really stands out.

I believe it is absolutely necessary that protagonists like him exist and we honestly do need more like him: as these shine a different light on nurturing masculinity and what it can be.

Zagreus is not less of a man because of the radiant and kind person he is. Quite the opposite so, I personally find him extremely attractive (he’s doing things to me oml). He is just being himself: unfiltered, optimistic, with a good sense of humor. He is not even trying to fulfill any gender roles in any shape or form, simply embracing the bonds he has for what they are, living the moment. He does whatever it takes to make the world around him a better place and make the people around him happier. And he started doing that once he stopped running away from his problems.

This reassurance is something boys and men (including those who identify as such) urgently need nowadays.

PS: I’m still not over the fact he canonically likes plushies, the lil dork

[makeitmingi]

Cause Baby You're My Muse [Chapter 19]

Genre: Romance, Idol!AU, Music, Slight angst

Pairing: Mingi x Reader (y/n)

Characters: Producer!Reader, IdolLyricist!Mingi, IdolProducer!Hongjoong, Idol!Seonghwa, Idol!Yunho, Idol!Wooyoung, Idol!San, Idol!Yeosang, Idol!Jongho, cameo(s) by other celebrities

Summary: You always preferred producing underground, having an unknown face and governed by your own rules. But when you start freelancing for idol groups, you say goodbye to your lone wolf lifestyle as you learn to work with idol producers and lyricists.

Word count: 3.3K

When it was time to take Haneul back, the boys let you go on your own, knowing that you would want to spend time with Haneul and to give you privacy. But you did drop by the dorm first.

"I'll see you soon, little bear." Jongho smiled softly, patting her head as she wrapped her arms around his neck to hug him. Haneul was probably the only person that was allowed to hug Jongho without being punched.

"Bye~" Yunho waved while Mingi gave her a hi-five. The boys all doted on Haneul like she was their own sister.

"See you soon, my baby star." Seonghwa grinned and engulfed her in a big hug, making her giggle.

"Promise you'll buy me yoghurt next time?" Haneul looked up at Hongjoong. Hongjoong bent down until he was at the same eye level as she was.

"I'll buy you all the yoghurt you want." He promised. She squealed, looking up at you happily.

"Go to Wooyoung oppa. He's sad." San softly ushered. Haneul ran and hugged Wooyoung's leg. Wooyoung pouted, lifting her up in his arms to shower her in kisses.

"Why are you sad?" Hanuel put her hands on Wooyoung's cheeks.

"I'm gonna miss you, my princess." He said, lightly bumping his forehead against her own.

"I'm gonna miss you too, oppa." Haneul replied, hugging him and resting her chin on his shoulder. Wooyoung pouted sadly, his bottom lip jutting out.

"We'll see each other again. When your unnie brings you to stay, we'll all go and play together." Wooyoung said. He knew he was supposed to be the assuring adult in this situation, not the sad one that's acting like he won't see her again. But he had obviously grown very close to Haneul and vice versa.

"Alright, let's go before we miss our train." You held her hand. The boys walked you both to the door. She waved to all 8 Ateez members before walking away with you.

"Did you have fun with the oppas?" You asked her. She nodded her head excitedly.

"I want to see them again!" She grinned up at you.

"Sure. Next time I pick you up, we'll come visit them. I'm sure they'll be more than happy to see you and play." You chuckled.

"That means Seonghwa oppa can make me more bunny pancakes!" She jumped up and down, happy at the prospect of having another slightly deformed bunny pancake.

"I guess so." You replied with a laugh, buying the train tickets. You were both right on time, the train already at the platform, waiting for passengers to board. Haneul walked in front of you as you tried to find your seats.

"Here we are." You stopped her. Haneul climbed into the inner seat, preferring to look out the window.

"You've been with me for almost 3 weeks, baby." You told her.

"And I had a lot of fun, unnie. We played and ate a lot of food. Thank you." She looked up at you. You immediately melted, reaching out to put your hand on your head.

"You're welcome, baby." You said softly, stroking her hair. You wanted to apologise for not being able to let her live with your permanently.

One day. One day, you can have Haneul live with you. You just needed more stability in your life and job first before you can care for another human being, much less a growing child.

"Baby... Do you ever wish you had an omma and an appa?" You asked her. Haneul shook her head without needing the think.

"You don't?" You were surprised by her answers. Sure, she lived at the orphanage but you knew that her peers in kindergarten all had parents and a happy family.

"I don't want an omma and an appa. I have you! But Wooyoung oppa said that Seonghwa oppa is omma and Hongjoong oppa is appa. So I have you, Seonghwa omma and Hongjoong appa. That's 3! While others have 2! And I have all the other oppas. That's a very big family." She reasoned.

"Yeah... It is a big family..." You replied. How could Haneul and you integrate into the Ateez family so easily? But while Haneul accepted it, there was a part of you that was still scared and wary of it.

"You like the oppas, right?" Haneul asked.

"I do." You replied.

"So they're your family too?" She continued. Family was suppoed to be forever. Your own parents didn't stick around. You didn't want to lean on them only for this to be temporary.

"Wow, Haneul. Look at the horses!" You pointed out the window. She turned to press her hands on the glass, looking at the animals.

Although you felt bad for distracting her, you didn't want to lie to her either. But that was your own convictions. Now, you were supposed to enjoy time with Haneul. You leaned over to watch the animals with her, resting a hand on her back steadily.

"Careful." You helped Haneul down from the seat when the train arrived at your stop. You bent down to wrap an arm around her, afraid she might fall from the train stopping too abruptly.

"Jump." You instructed and she jumped over the small gap between the train and the platform giddily. She immediately held your hand.

"Can we get ice cream before we go back?" She asked.

"Of course." Even though Haneul had ice cream with the boys last night, you couldn't say no now.

"Which flavour do you want?" You held her up to the glass for her to see all the flavours. You read out the flavours to her since she still had some trouble reading the more complex Korean letters.

"Strawberry! With cookie crumbs, please." She decided. You gave her order to the staff scooping.

"Here you go." The male came out from behind the counter to give the ice cream to Haneul. She received it with two hands, her eyes sparkling at the sweet treat in front of her.

"What do you say?" You prompted.

"Thank you for the ice cream, mister." She chimed, running to sit at one of the tables so she could quickly dig into her ice cream. The staff smiled at her, ruffling her hair before straightening up to attend to you at the cash register. You paid for Haneul's ice cream and grabbed some napkins for her.

"Thanks." You smiled to the guy and went to sit with Haneul. Instead of sitting beside her or opposite her, you lifted her to sit in your lap, your arms loosely sitting around her waist.

"Is it good?" You asked, wiping her mouth. She nodded and held a spoon out to you for you to take a bite.

"Good?" She looked at you.

"It's amazing." You smiled as you ate the ice cream. You weren't a fan of sweets but you would gladly indulge Haneul just to see her adorable reaction.

When Haneul finished her ice cream, you both headed to the orphanage. You walked in with her and saw the ahjumma there.

"Ahjumma, how are you?" You asked.

"Better." She replied briefly with a nod, never one to have a conversation with. You turned around and bent down to Haneul, giving her a tight hug.

"I'll see you soon, baby. If you need anything, you know to contact me. I'll come right away. I love you so much." You said softly.

"I love you too, unnie." Haneul replied. After you let her go, you passed an envelope of money to the ahjumma with an awkward smile. You patted Haneul's head as she walked in. It took you a lot of will power to turn and walk away.

Letting out a shaky breath, you slipped your mask on and made your way back to the train station. Behind your mask, you chewed on your bottom lip, trying to stop yourself from getting emotional.

"Stop crying so much." You scolded yourself, hitting your fist against your thigh.

The train departed from the station and very soon, you were heading back to your home. But you didn't expect someone to be waiting there for you.

"Mings? What are you doing here?" You blinked in confusion. He was wearing a mask and cap worn low but you recognised him.

"Wait, let's go up. It's a little open here." You led him upstairs to your home, not wanting fans to see.

"Thanks." Mingi removed his shoes and stepped into your home. He didn't think that you would just invite him into your home like that. But to be honest, Mingi wasn't thinking when he left the dorm to come here. Before you could offer him a drink, Mingi grasped your arm, tugging you to him to hug you tightly.

"What..." You were confused, still unsure why Mingi was at your house to begin with. He was gentle with his hold on you, leaning down slightly so the side of his head pressed against yours.

"Are you okay...?" You asked, a little cautiously.

"I thought you might need some comforting... With Haneul going back. So I wanted to check on you." He explained.

"Oh." You finally understood. You lifted your arms to hug Mingi back, grateful that he came down and waited for you just to see if you were okay. There was a slight warmth in your chest.

"Thank you, Mings." You said, muffled against him. When you let him go, Mingi took a step back.

"I'm fine. I mean... I am a little sad that she's not able to stay with me and I miss her already but I'll be okay." You patted his arm.

"Don't keep things in." He placed a hand on your head.

"I won't." You pulled off your mask to smile at him, knowing he was referring to the promise that you made with him to not keep your feelings in anymore. Mingi sat on the couch while you got him a drink from the kitchen.

"Thanks for entertaining Haneul while she was here. She had a great time with all of you." You handed him the drink before taking a seat beside him.

"There's no need to thank, I'm glad she had a good time with us. The last kid we had around us was Wooyoung's brother." Mingi said.

"She did. I think you guys get along because she's nearly 5 and you guys are all mentally 5 year olds." You snickered. Mingi shot you a flat look while you continued laughing.

"But Jongho was so sweet with Haneul." You added.

"I think she and Yeosang are the only ones that he allows to hug him. Without getting socked." Mingi snorted.

"Actually, would you like to stay for dinner?" You blurted out, rubbing your hands on your thigh, suddenly feeling nervous with Mingi next to you for some reason.

"Sure. We can order take out so you don't have to cook. You've had a long day." Mingi suggested.

"No need... That's if you don't mind eating simply... I think I'm too used to cooking meals now since Haneul's been with me for 3 weeks. I don't really want her eating takeout or outside food too much." You rubbed the back of your neck, realising you might sound like a strict or paranoid parent.

"I don't mind, I'll eat anything." He smiled.

"Except vegetables." You corrected with a teasing smile. Mingi blushed, knowing that he had been caught.

"I think you know too much about us. If you ever go to the media, they're sure going to have a field day with what you know." Mingi raised an eyebrow.

"Well, you guys can do the same. You know what the mysterious Producer Indigo looks like and acts like." You nudged him lightly.

"That's true." Mingi rubbed his chin as if he was actually contemplating it.

"I'm going to take meat out to thaw." You punched his arm and rolled your eyes before shuffling over to the kitchen to take things out of the freezer. You didn't really know what to cook yet.

"What are you gonna cook?" Mingi asked, coming over to see you just take things out of the freezer and fridge, piling them onto the counter.

"Not sure... looks like it'll be a mix of stuff. Beef jeon, japchae, dak galbi..." You listed as you checked on which vegetables were going bad. When you had a lot of vegetables going bad, they would end up in a japchae or some sort of fried rice.

"Those all sound good. I can help with some of the cooking tasks. I may not be the best cook but I promise I'm not as bad as Hongjoong hyung." Mingi chuckled and rolled his sleeves up.

"I'm sure Hongjoong would not be pleased to hear you dissing his cooking skills." You giggled.

"He knows he's bad. He practically went viral for his bad cooking skills." Mingi scoffed, walking to the sink to wash his hands.

"Alright, I trust you." You said. That's how you and Mingi began to work in the kitchen together. You have to admit, he was right, he did kind of know his way around food and the kitchen.

"My parents own a restaurant, you know?"

"I wouldn't know because you've never taken me." You scoffed, meaning for it to be a joke.

"I'll definitely take you next time for dinner. My omma would love you." Mingi promised. You felt your cheeks heat up at his words but luckily Mingi was facing the other way and couldn't see you get flustered by his words. He did the prep work and all the cutting while you made the marinades and sauces.

"Should I start frying the jeon while you continue the dakgalbi?" You asked. Mingi nodded, pouring the marinade that you made for the dakgalbi into the bowl with the chicken and vegetables.

"Be careful." Mingi cautioned as you began to shallow fry the battered pieces of beef.

"I got it." You assured. Since the beef jeon was thin, they were done relatively quickly. You put them on a paper towel to dry.

"The japchae noodles are done soaking, I'll start assembling everything together." Mingi said. You stir fried the dakgalbi and Mingi finished up the japchae.

"Oww, it's hot!" Mingi complained as he tossed everything in the bowl. He only had plastic vinyl gloves on which were not very heat resistent.

"Just use the tongs." You laughed. You went to the drawer to get out the tongs for him to use.

"You're okay with cheese right?" You asked.

"Love cheese." Mingi replied. You turned off the flame for the dakgalbi and sprinkled cheese on the top before closing the lid. The residual heat would melt the cheese. You and Mingi placed all your completed dishes on the table.

"We have japchae but want some rice?" You offered. Mingi stood next to you at the rice cooker as you scooped the rice into bowls. After that, you finally sat down to eat.

"Wow." Mingi took his phone out to snap a picture. He wouldn't tell the members that he was here but it was a memory for him. The first time he cooked with you and the first time he was at your house.

"Enjoy." The two of you sat opposite each other and dug in.

"Mmm, that's good." Mingi melted as he took a bite of food. You nodded in agreement.

"Everything tastes so good." It was a joint effort and cooking with Mingi made the process so much more fun. It didn't feel tiring at all and you both cooked such amazing dishes.

"You should cook more often, you have potential." You told him, swallowing your food.

"Nah, I don't have the interest for it, which is why my omma always laments. Wooyoung is interested in cooking, that's why he does it more and has that cooking segment that he does. Seonghwa hyung... I think it just comes to him because he is naturally like a mother to all of us." Mingi said.

"Haneul keeps saying Seonghwa is an omma, not an oppa. And she says Hongjoong is appa. You guys are teaching her your bad ways." You laughed, shaking your head.

"She's the newest member of the family, it's only right that we teach her of the different roles." Mingi shrugged.

You and Mingi continued to happily chat as you ate. It was all light hearted conversations, nothing too heavy. You and him shared a lot of laughs.

"Let me help with the dishes." Mingi stood up. You were putting the leftovers into containers.

"No, it's okay." You shook your head.

"If you're about to go into a whole thing about me being a guest and how you can't possibly ask me to do the dishes, save it. We cooked together, we will clean together." Mingi was quick to refute. You sighed but gave in to him.

"It'll be easier if I wash and you dry since you know where everything goes." He said, bringing the empty dishes to the sink while you continued to pack the leftovers to put in the fridge.

"You should wear an apron. You're gonna wet your clothes." You adviced, noticing the front of his shirt already slightly wet.

"It's fine. It'll dry. And I'm headed home after this anyway." He waved you off.

"Suit yourself." You took the washed dishes from the rack and dried them, putting them back. When the dishes were done, you and Mingi sat down for some tea to end the evening.

"It's getting late, I should head back since I have a schedule tomorrow." Mingi said. You nodded your head, not wanting him to go back so late since he was on his own and to not be tired during his schedule tomorrow. You walked him to the door but your heart felt heavy at the thought of him leaving.

"I'll see you soon?" Mingi tilted his head.

"Yeah, I'll move my stuff back to the studio and go back to working from the KQ building." You said.

"If you can't move everything, don't do it and hurt yourself. I'll come with the boys to help you transport whatever you need." He smiled and you hummed.

"Thanks for coming by to check on me and having dinner with me. I had fun and I really appreciate you doing that for me." You confessed.

"Don't thank me, Indigo. I would do it any time for you." Mingi said softly. In all honestly, he didn't want to leave too.

"Be safe on your way back. Let me know when you're at the dorm." You said, leaning against the door frame. Mingi nodded but made no attempt to move. Why did his feet feel like they were glued to the floor? He couldn't will himself to move.

"Ah, screw it." Mingi cursed.

It happened so fast. Mingi cupping your cheeks and leaning down to press his lips against yours. He teeterd you back into the apartment, closing your front door shut with his leg.

"M-Mingi." You gasped as you both pulled away. But his forehead remained pressed against yours while you caught your breath.

"I'm sorry." He squeezed his eyes shut, shaking his head.

"No, don't be sorry..." You assured. Mingi opened his eyes to stare into your own.

"I shouldn't-" You tip toed, wrapping your arms around his neck to kiss him again, cutting him off. Mingi's arms wound around your waist, squeezing the flesh as he melted into your kiss.

"I'm not going back to the dorm tonight." Mingi murmured, pressing his face into your shoulder. Although you would have usually persuaded him to go back since he had a schedule in the morning, you wanted to be selfish just this once and keep him with you. You wanted to have him near you.

"That's fine with me." You replied, your hands moving to wrap themselves around him.

~

Series Masterlist

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Dirty Work 54

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as bullying, familial discord/abuse, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You start a new gig and find one of your clients to be hard to please.

Characters: Loki

Note: I am back to work tmrw.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

You choose a simple dress. You like the shade of peach even as Loki eyes you archly. It might not be the choice that offends him but the state of yourself. Your nose is still healing, bandaged but not as heavily, and you have much left to recover. His own injuries remain tinged on his pale skin.

You shimmy the dress on and turn your back to him as he drones cynically. His fingers creep up along your bottom to meet the zipper and he tugs it up slowly. He’s reluctant. 

“What is it? You don’t like the dress?” You face him.

“I’d rather prefer you naked,” he purrs with a wink, “but I am not overly fond of the colour, no.” 

“Oh, but... you bought it?” 

“Yes, my sister did have it included in the purchase but... it is rather bright.” 

“I like it,” you run your hands over your stomach and hips, “it fits nicely but if you want me to change...” 

“No, darling, do what you wish,” he crosses his arms, “I must learn to let you do so.” 

You narrow your eyes. His malleability does not come without resentment. You shrug. You don’t have all day to be sussing out his preference. 

“What is it you and my mother have planned?” He asks. 

“I’m not certain,” you say as you search for your phone. The one he gave you. 

“No? Hm, darling, what about a necklace?” He goes to the jewellery box and plucks out a golden chain with a peridot emblem.  

“I guess,” you dig around in your work bag, most of your luggage still unpacked. 

“You guess? It is a pretty necklace. What about amethyst?” 

“Loki,” you fish out your phone but not the one you meant to. Your old flip.  

You put it down on the nightstand stiffly and return to your search. It feels so long ago that you were that person. That sad girl living with your father and flitting through a meandering existence. You won’t say you’ve moved up very much, still at the whim of a man, but you feel distant from that person. 

Perhaps Walpurgisnacht was more a rebirth than you could know. 

“Pet...” Loki comes closer as you retrieve your work phone. It’s dead.  

“I need to charge it,” you show him the device. 

“You should toss the old one. Doubt it even works.” 

“I know, I will. I have to back it up,” you say evasively. There’s not much on it but it’s the only connection you still have to your previous life. You’re not ready to slice through that last strand. 

“Mm, right then, well, another to do for the list,” he steps nearer and tickles your waist, “suppose you delay your little outing with my mother and I take you to lunch--” 

“She’s a guest, and your mother,” you rebuke. “Loki, I’m only doing what I need to do. Isn’t that what you want?” 

He sighs, “yes, but... it is still my house. I would like more than my leave. I should say when you need go pick out flowers or tablecloths or whatnot.” 

“Proposals typically lead to all that,” you say, “at least from what I know.” 

“What you know?” He muses. 

“Yeah, I’ve seen a few Kate Hudson movies,” you quip and give a goofy smile but quickly repress it. “Sorry, that wasn’t... funny.” 

His cheeks dimple and his nostrils flair, his lips slightly curved, “is that... humour? From you?” 

“Well, I... yeah, why not?” 

“Hm, it isn’t a slight but you are not one for laughter.” 

“Or maybe you’ve never made me laugh,” you blurt out and quickly snap your mouth shut. 

His brows drop and his smile too. You stare at him. Oops. You are getting to comfortable. Even if you are to be his wife, you aren’t his equal. You don’t know that you could ever be. 

He chuckles, “darling, how very sharp.” He reaches to frame your chin and turns you to him completely, “I should try harder then, to hear your sweet laughs.” 

You smile, a flutter in your chest, “that’s sweet.” 

“I am sweet,” he says, offended. “What do you mean?” 

You just stare at him. Is he kidding? 

“Don’t,” he warns with a frown. “Very well, go, have fun. Should I need anything, I will be certain to let mother know since you will be without tether...” he keeps his hand on you, squeezing, “you will be safe with her, I know.” 

“Loki,” you murmur, “he’s not coming back. He wouldn’t.” 

He stares at you solemnly, “no, he shouldn’t.” 

It seems as if he doubts his own words. For a moment, you do too. He knows his brother much better. Yet, how can Thor return when all have turned their backs on him? 

“There is no hurry, mother can wait...” 

“Loki, she’s only visiting,” you remind him, “the sooner it’s done, the sooner they go, right?” 

“Mm, you are clever,” he looks past you with apprehension, “suppose so. And I should speak with father about some things...” he leans in and kisses your forehead, withdrawing absently as he taps his fingertips together, “weddings and such...” 

You give him a look but he’s too distracted to notice. This whole affair is his idea and yet he is uncertain. You watch him placidly. 

“We don’t have to... marry--” 

“No, no,” he returns his attention to you, “of course we must. We will—how could you—oh, I know it is all very new to you, pet, but trust in me. It isn’t my first rodeo. Regrettably.” 

You feel a pang at the allusion to his previous marriage. You remember Sif with her sleek figure and her perfect smile and her sparkling eyes. You are second in all ways to her. 

“I should go,” you insist with a sniff. 

“Mm, yes, you should,” he grabs your shoulders and lays another kiss, this time on your lips. “I have told mother very strictly not to dawdle so you shouldn’t either.” 

“We’ll be fine,” you assure him. 

“When did you get so confident,” he teases as he retracts from you. 

You offer a sheepish smile. Not confident, but hopeful. A change nonetheless. 

✨

Frigga insists on lunch before you do anything. You’re struck with deja vu as she returns to that same place you went to with her sons. That day feels like eons ago but it’s been just over a month. 

The change feels all the more sudden after a lifetime of stagnancy. With your dad, every day blurred together, the constancy was as dull as it was oppressive. Yet, you mourn it all the same. The spontaneity and turbulence of your new existence proves just as paralysing at times. 

You may have gone from maid to fiancee, but it doesn’t dissolve your expected deference. You are marrying into the Odinsons, they have no need to ingratiate themselves to you. Even as the reminder of her elder son troubles you, you will not mention your worries aloud to the matriarch. 

Frigga orders a sparkling water with fruit, you ask for the same. The waitress is not subtle as she eyes your bandaged nose. Just another reason for you to feel out of place. It's tender but feels much better.

You peer up at the sky as you sit in the open patio and the scent of the curated flowers around the space wafts in the air. Your dress rustles and tickles your leg, causing you to flinch. Another flash of before. That day you ate with Thor at your side, his hand under the table... 

You shudder and blow away the memory. You reach for your water and sip as you look over the entrees. Your appetite is erratic. One second you’re ravenous, the next, nauseous. The tuna sounds good but sickening at once. You’ll get a salad. 

“We will have to plan an engagement party first. Perhaps a local venue for that,” she looks at her phone and turns it on its screen as you hear it buzzing. 

“Or the house? I thought... the gazebo...” 

“Mm, yes, I recall, what was the name of that contractor you hired? I wouldn’t mind a similar build back at our house. Oh, and perhaps if you did want to do the wedding at home as well, a wedding arch might be a thought. I’m certain a carpenter might be up to that task,” she continues, ignoring how her phone rattles her glass. “So, we’ll skip over venues then. But invitations, perhaps? Oo, do you have a dress in mind? A brunch or something in the evening?” 

You can hardly keep up with her questions. At least she offers distraction from the shadow looming over your shoulder. Both of them. If it isn’t one son, it’s the other. 

The waitress returns and you order. Frigga eyes you as she puts in for a monte cristo with the soup du jour. You try to smile. You’re tired. 

“Are you okay, dear? You’ve not been eating very much.” 

“Oh, haven’t I?” You squirm evasively. “I’m... fine, I guess I just have a lot on my mind.” 

“Oh, darling, forgive me if I am overloading you,” she fans herself with her hand, “I apologise. I’ve a bad habit of getting head over feet about these things. I have so many ideas all at once but if I sit still, I feel I might burst.” 

Her words call you back to Loki pacing and circling at the hotel, then at home, he manic muttering. 

“It’s alright. I don’t think of any of it. I don’t know where to begin,” you assure her. 

“Ah, well, yes, but I’ve had a wedding and my son’s had a wedding already,” she chuckles, “so I do have a bit more experience. You shouldn’t worry terribly if you have questions. I am simply here to guide you.” 

“I know--” 

Her phone shakes again and she sighs.  

“Pardon,” she tilts the phone up and you see the incoming call; Loki. She quickly turns off the ringer. “My, he is a pest. It cannot be that important--” 

“I don’t have my phone,” you say, “maybe he needs something.” 

“My son can wait. He is so selfish. Especially about you. Surely, he trusts his own mother,” she scoffs, “anyhow, I think a luncheon might be pleasant enough. Perhaps with a theme. Summer is here and the flowers will be lovely this time of season.” 

“Excuse me, miss,” the waitress comes up to the table, a cordless phone in her hand, “there’s a gentleman on the phone asking for you.” 

You frown at Frigga then glance up, realising the woman is speaking to you. You blink and take the phone from her. You put it to your ear, staring at Frigga. 

“Hello?” 

“Pet,” Loki bursts eagerly, “oh, I knew you’d be there. Yes, I only wanted to check in, hear your voice, but I couldn’t get through to mother.” 

“Oh, uh, yeah, sorry, we were just ordering--” 

‘Give me the phone’ Frigga mouths and gestures. 

“I...” you begin and her green eyes flare. You hand over the phone. 

“Loki, this is not your time. You can wait. We are busy. You have a lovely day and we will be home in a few hours,” she says tritely, “certainly, you might find something to keep yourself busy.” 

She doesn’t wait for his response as she hits the end button and hands the phone back to the server, thanking her with a smile. The brunette flits away and you tap your fingers on the table top. Frigga plays with a wave and pushes it behind her ear, “darling, don’t even worry about my son. You just focus on yourself.” 

“Thank you, I just...” 

“You just don’t worry,” she repeats, “if my son has issue with us doing exactly as we told him we would, then he may take it up with me. Uh, he always was a needy little boy.” 

You almost laugh. You might agree with part of her sentiment but you could never imagine Loki as a little boy. In your mind, he just seems as if he’s always been grown. Not like you.  

You’ve always felt clueless and inadequate. As if you never moved past childhood, that you got caught behind some wall and watched the adults from afar. Yet, now that you’re on the other side, you still feel a barrier. Like them, but not the same. 

Not like the Odinsons especially. A family. You don’t have any of that. The more you think of the wedding, the more you see empty seats. No bridesmaids, not father-daughter dance, no one on your side. 

“Dear, have I upset you?” Frigga cuts the silence and you catch yourself staring at the table. 

You shake your head and sit up, “no, sorry, just thinking...” you scramble for a lie. You hate that you do that so often now, “what about a tea party?” 

“A tea party? Marvelous, I love it,” she trills, “oh, yes, we will have to find some fine porcelain for the event.” 

“Loki has lots--” 

“Yes, but this is special, dear. You’ll need a special set so you can always remember the party. Oh, and teas. There is a tea shop nearby. They sell loose leaf. We can have a whole array. Ooh, and biscuits, pastries...” she begins to list off. You let her, thankful to forget everything else for the minutest of details. Tea is easy. 

[whositmcwhatsit]

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

[rahuratna]

Hi! I have a one am musing 🥹

I was rewatching jjk season one (I still haven’t finished season two but I need to cope LOL) and now I’m able to pick up all the little details we talked about before. *heart melts*

It’s so crazy to me how in the very beginning Nanami didn’t acknowledge Yuji as a sorcerer, and by the end, he told Yuji to be the one to take over from here. It’s so bittersweet…

Tbh, the very first time I watched that episode, I was super shocked and thought Nanami was patronizing Yuji. And then I learned that wasn’t the case. He was being very matter-of-fact about it and knows Yuji has a lot of room to grow 🥹💕💕

Yuji was super eager to prove himself to Nanami, and then Nanami was like “frankly I don’t give a shit.” But in reality, he really does as he gets to learn more about Yuji, and so while I was terribly upset with s2 ep 18, his last words were the perfect conclusion.

(This is just a side note but I like it more when writers show off Nanami’s practical-minded nature more. How it may seem cold and standoffish at first but it wasn’t intended that way. I wish I got to see more of Nanami being blunt with criticism since different people could react differently to it and it’s who he is!)

———-

I also realized that Gojo got new glasses LMAO. Didn’t see it before, but his high school ones were circular and his newer ones are more oval. I kinda glossed over it when he shops for new glasses in the “Lost in Paradise” ending. I personally like his high school sunglasses better. What about you?

Hi! And thanks for these lovely 1 am musings. It always makes my day to see one waiting for me 🤭 I also needed to take a moment to cope before moving on with season 2 (didn't help much, but necessary).

Nanami initially struck me as very contradictory, because there he was, taking a jab at the system (in his capacity as both a salaryman and as a sorcerer), saying that "work is shit", but also bowing formally to a teenager when he introduced himself and wearing a full business suit to kill curses!

I saw his lack of acknowledgement of Yuuji as another "fuck you" to the system. Here was Yuuji, a vessel to one of the most powerful curse users to ever exist, and he was essentially treating him as just another kid. I didn't necessarily see it in a good or bad light, it just struck me as a very deliberate choice on Nanami's part.

Of course, his later actions and his background showcased these things in a completely new way. Like you said, he cares a great deal for Yuuji and the younger generation of sorcerers. The fact that his last words to Yuuji were "you take it from here" is such a fitting culmination to his character arc.

He saw his duty as a guardian and protector of the young and the weak finally coming to an end, because they were now able to protect themselves better than he could. He saw Yuuji as completely fitting of carrying his legacy forward, and so let him know that he could now pass in peace.

I, also, wish we could have seen more of Nanami's interactions with others. The way Ijichi is actually more terrified of Nanami scolding him than anything else, describing him as the 'ultimate adult' or something along those lines, will never not be funny to me. Especially since Nanami is the type of man to never raise his voice in a professional setting. His pragmatic nature would probably have given us many more moments of misunderstandings, sweetness and humour, should it have been explored in greater detail.

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As to Gojo's sunglasses, I do like the older style better! They reflected a lot of his irreverent, cheeky and offbeat personality. I suppose the oval shape is a style choice that changed as he grew older and matured, but yeah, I definitely preferred round lenses better!